#but anger Is a very satisfying emotion

[trans-xianxian]

one thing about the core reveal scene is that it's one of the only times someone defends wei wuxian just out of like. anger and contempt. there's the desperate way that jiang cheng protects wei wuxian from his mother and the wens, and the gentle quiet way that lan wangji stands up for wei wuxian against the world, but it is So endlessly refreshing to see someone just be fucking mad that wei wuxian is being mistreated. wen nings fearsome, righteous anger is so good especially considering that wen ning is a character who so rarely ever let's himself show any anger at all, even when he has so much to be angry about

and he doesn't even get angry in a reserved, polite way either he literally tells jiang cheng to his face that he will never be as good as wei wuxian. saying that serves absolutely no purpose other than to hurt him. it doesn't reveal anything more about the core, its not a cold truth that jiang cheng needs to learn, it's not even really something that strictly Defends wei wuxian against anything. he literally just says it because he Knows it's exactly the thing that will hurt the most, and in that moment what wen ning wants to do is to hurt jiang cheng. and it's delicious

#sorry bestie just watched this ep so I am thinking about it Yet Again #the only other time I can think of another character getting angry like that for wwx is jyl on phoenix mountain #and we Know how much that scene fucks #idk like lwjs persistent tragic way of standing up for wwx is great obviously #but its so good to see another character get just plain mad #just fuckin snap #I think part of it is like. as a viewer I spend so much time angry on wei wuxians behalf #so to see a Character finally be angry too is very satisfying #and lwj defends wwx a lot but anger is almost never the emotion at the forefront of that #which is fine #but anger Is a very satisfying emotion #and arguably wen ning is the one who was closest to wwxs suffering #all the time #through nearly all of it #he saw so closely how the core transfer affected him #knew the truth the whole time #and you just know that that anger had been building for a long. Long time #ghost posts #text #wwx #jc #lwj #wn #yunmeng bros #wangxian

[nordfjording]

theres a response on the male suicide post that goes basically "it's not that men aren't allowed to show feelings, it's that men show emotion differently from women which isn't accepted" and I'm sure there is something to that but it's funny to me because i have four straight older sisters with what i'd call average rates of romantic relationships and every single boyfriend that's made it through our family in the last 30 years have had more classical displays of emotion than my sisters have.

which is deeply anecdotal and probably says more about my family than anything else. still funny.

ofc it doesnt matter because to my understanding it's got very little to do with how feelings are shown vs how feelings are recognized, validated, processed or regulated.

#earlier today i heard a psychotherapist explain self harm as a method of self-validation for emotional distress which #i havent had spelled out to me before but rings a lot more true to me than most other explanations ive had presented #in my own case that is #likewise - and even more anecdotal - the one of my sister's exes who killed himself #was one who WAS very expressive about his emotions and showed them in very typical ways - but whose family and closest network #did not validate what he was experiencing when he came into crisis #and whose family has a generational history of suicide. none of which has been processed. #i just. listen. you can boil it down to whether or not someone is able to cry but that is IMO such an oversimplification #because emotional displays highly individual and i DO think that's pretty accepted #imo the the question is: whether someone is allowed to react emotionally and to process their experiences #in a satisfying way #or are they expected to simply not notice or care #and whether one has acceptable routes to regulate emotions that pass the threshold of what can be handled by stoicism #so when the most expected or publically accepted emotional reaction is outward anger? well.

[shisurus]

can't stop thinking about dungeon meshi btw. how it comes down to being able to appreciate the hard and painful times because of the moments of happiness you experienced along the way.

it's about falin being able to forgive and look beyond the harsh way things were done- be it their father announcing he will send her away from the village or laios leaving her behind- partly due to her personality, and how she used to prioritize her loved ones' needs and emotions over her own, but also because of the positive impact that road eventually had on her. she knows her family was trying to protect her but what truly made it impossible to regret the path she had to take were the precious memories she made later on- it was learning magic and seeing new places and becoming friends with marcille and of course she couldn't hate it all, she was happy. it's about laios feeling so utterly miserable because on his end, it seemed like nothing good or enjoyable happened to him after leaving home, aside from the letters written by falin. but how long can a child be satisfied with another's happiness which he never got to experience himself?

so it really is beautiful that the series started off with him realizing that this journey allowed him to finally feel that happiness he was yearning for-

-and ended with everyone else realizing it too. when you first read chapter 11 it's just a funny gag about people not understanding laios, but it genuinely was too early for them to share his sentiment. they needed to come to terms with it on their own, with chilchuck opening up to them and senshi resolving the hovering mystery of his past and izutsumi freeing herself and joining their party and marcille facing her greatest fear. the winged lion was taking advantage of the loneliness and anger and pain lingering in laios's heart, but even it couldn't deny this. how, despite everything, he couldn't be satiated and his own happiness couldn't be complete without his friends' happiness too. how it was always about everyone enjoying a meal together.

and then there's marcille, who refused to admit it until the very end. it's in the way she had such a hard time fully accepting eating monsters despite how tasty she found them, not just due to how weird they were but also because she tried rejecting and burying her own pleasure and joy during this entire journey. from the very beginning, she was only willing to endure the pain and suffering.

as if she couldn't accept feeling an ounce of comfort, satisfaction, let alone happiness while falin was suffering on her own. and it might've been laios's reaction as well if all of this had happend a decade ago- i mean, that's exactly what he did back then. blaming himself for leaving her behind, being tormented by her loneliness and absence while falin was actually slowly moving towards a brighter future. it was him that was stuck, not her. but he kept focusing on her pain to ignore how deep the hole in his own heart had become, consumed by guilt to ignore his own agony, or to make sense of it- because maybe he did deserve it after all he had done.

and for that reason marcille was so terrified of admitting there was warmth in what she considered the depths of hell. because it would mean accepting falin going ahead of her and leaving her behind, accepting the inevitable she was trying so hard to deny and the end of her dream.

but it was learning there's joy even in her worst nightmare that allowed her to finally embrace those moments of pleasure that made her life worth living, however short they were. she realized that her pursuit would take away the things that truly mattered to her, that if she had succumbed to her fear of loss she would've been the one hurting her loved ones, just as happened to thistle. laios asking her to use ancient magic for falin's resurrection and then encouraging her to not give up on her desires during the nightmare chapter was a direct parallel to delgal being the one to push thistle down the road of destruction, while both marcille and thistle were trying to protect the people most important to their friends.

but in marcille's case, laios was able to understand her at the end, pulling her back just before she descended to complete ruin. it's truly fascinating how the story is not only about laios being understood but also getting to understand others properly, deeply- it's about mutual understanding, the balance between two people he never managed to maintain before. and i think it's only after seeing thistle's tragedy that he was able to fully realize what might become of marcille down the line. so while delgal put the weight of the world on thistle's shoulders, laios was the one to tell marcille she doesn't have to do that. because even if falin's resurrection hadn't succeeded, they both already know- there's happiness even in the dungeon's pit. and it's by preparing a hearty meal made of her loved one's remains that marcille was able to truly accept it- thus allowing herself to enjoy it to the fullest, embracing the cycle of life, no matter how weird or painful or grotesque it is.

#and chil was weirded out by how marcille of all people was truly delighted while eating falin 😭 #the character development through mealssss #dungeon meshi #marcille donato #laios touden #falin touden

[futureman]

old dogs don't change

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: weeks after sleeping together, your no-strings-attached agreement goes up in flames when joel goes on a date with another woman. you make sure that never happens again. (sequel to keep it on the low)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, ex-boyfriend!joel, jackson era, tlou 2 jesse appearance, age gap, hurt, angst, smut, unprotected piv, post-breakup sex, rough sex, public sex, rough oral (m!receiving), exhibitionism, possessive behavior, jealousy, alcohol use, briefly dating other people

word count: 10.6k

You have no idea who she is, but you bet she’s a total bitch. Is that mean? Maybe. Do you give a shit? Nope.

To be fair, you’d probably say that about anyone Joel started dating after you, but that doesn’t mean it can’t still be true. Sure, you've never actually talked to her…or seen her before in your entire life, but that’s beside the point. She’s cute and bubbly, and everything you’re not, and that’s the point. 

It’s honestly a little comical how different the two of you are, and you can’t help but wonder if Tommy did that on purpose. You know he was the one who set them up. Everyone in the dining hall was talking about it this morning. The latest, hottest piece of gossip, bouncing from table to table like a cruel game of telephone. 

He probably thinks he’s protecting his big brother, but you think he needs to mind his own fucking business. It’s not like he knows anything about your relationship, not really. Well. It’s not your relationship anymore, is it? And Tommy, along with everyone else in this town, blames you for that.

Poor Joel, dumped by the biggest bitch in Jackson, who took advantage of his kindness and patience for years, and broke his heart when all he did was love her. Selfish, cold, and uncaring. Nothing like the pretty, perky girl sitting next to him in the booth they’re sharing at Seth’s. 

If only they knew what really happened.

The bar is especially busy, even for a Saturday night, so you figure no one’ll notice you blatantly glaring at them. It’s not like you care, anyway. You’re feeling warm and loose, and maybe a little too tipsy for your own good, but tonight, you get to do whatever the fuck you want. 

Because Joel’s sitting ten feet away with his arm slung around another woman, and it hurts. 

It sucks way worse than him avoiding you since the last time you slept together, after all of the things you did and said on that couch. The things he said. You shoo away the thought with another swig of beer, wishing you were drinking something stronger. It's for the best. 

If you get any drunker, you’ll probably end up doing something stupid, and the last thing you need is to prove everyone right that he’s better off without you. But you can’t seem to shake the anger that’s starting to simmer below the surface. 

With the emotional toll this night has already taken, you kind of don’t want to. So, you surrender to it. Fuck him. He’s a piece of shit for parading his new girl around right in front of you, and for breaking off your agreement without so much as a word. 

If he wanted to see other people, he should’ve opened his mouth and used his big boy words. Then again, he’s always been terrible at that, so why are you surprised? 

Maybe he’ll fuck her tonight. Touch her all of the ways you like because that’s all he knows anymore. She’ll moan for him, soft and sweet, gentle in her affection, just like she’s touching him right now. But it won’t satisfy him, and when he’s panting on top of her, chasing that all-consuming release only you can give him, you know he’ll be pretending she's you. 

Asshole.

You’re still watching them, shooting daggers from your spot at the bar, when your wish from earlier is granted. Two overflowing shot glasses topped with lime are placed in front of you, and you look up to see a very attractive dark-haired, brown-eyed man smirking down at you.

"Looked a little lonely over here," he says in a raspy baritone even lower than Joel's. He clinks the top of your beer bottle with the bottom of his own. "Thought you could use some company, maybe another drink."

Well, he’s right. You could use some company, and you’d love another drink. There’s no harm in having a little fun, right? If Joel’s doing it, then there’s nothing stopping you.

"So, both of these are for me, then?" you smile coyly, reaching for one. He nods, his own smile widening.

"Could be. Can I join ya?" he gestures to the empty stool next to you. 

He has this cocky look on his face like he already knows you'll say yes, and in your inebriated state, you think it's kind of hot. It reminds you of Joel when you first met. How he knew exactly what he wanted and wouldn't give up until it was his. Until you were his.

You consider him for a moment. He’s young, maybe even younger than you, and obviously confident enough to make a move on you. Fleetingly, you think he might end up being that stupid thing you do tonight, but then you down one of the shots and decide you don't actually care. 

What turns out to be tequila burns the entire way down, and you immediately pick up a slice of lime. You’re hyperaware of the way his eyes lock onto your mouth as you suck on the sour fruit, lingering when a droplet of juice dribbles down your chin. 

It’s not a total surprise when he reaches up to thumb it away, but you are taken off guard by how strange it makes you feel. The pad of his finger is disappointingly smooth, no weathering or even a hint of a callus. You're not sure why that matters to you, but you can take a decent guess.

You chance a glance over at Joel's table and, of course, you have his full attention now. His entire body looks tense, from his hand clenched on the table to the prominent vein bulging angrily in his neck. 

Good. Now he knows how it feels.

Looking back up at your mystery guy, you run your tongue along your bottom lip, catching any remaining lime before you finally give him an answer. 

"Sure. Pop a squat, cowboy," you giggle. It doesn't even sound like you and feels wrong the second it passes your lips, but as long as Joel heard it, that's all that matters. "You got a name?"

He replies, but you're too busy keeping an eye on Joel in your peripheral to catch what he says. In the back of your mind, you think that’s probably a good thing. You'd rather not know, especially if you do end up taking him home. 

Mystery guy laughs at your noncommittal hum and you realize you’ve been caught. But he doesn’t seem upset. It’s clear he’s amused by your obvious interest elsewhere and that piques your curiosity. 

Any other guy here would’ve been pissed by your apathy, especially if they’d bothered to buy you a drink that you accepted, but apparently not this one.

He sits down on the stool next to you, pulling it close enough that his knee presses against yours. You unconsciously lean into him, your skin erupting in goosebumps despite your growing unease.

He's...baffling. A total enigma. You can’t figure out what his deal is or why he’s choosing to keep pursuing you when your eyes have been glued to another man all night. 

The thought of letting this continue long enough to find out is a little thrilling. Might as well see where this goes. If it escalates, you’re more than confident in your ability to care of yourself.

But it happens sooner than you expect. His hand finds the back of your stool and, then, his lips are suddenly right next to your cheek. You can feel the warmth of them as he tilts his head to whisper in your ear.

“Look, not try'na to overstep, but…,” his eyes dart to where Joel’s sitting, unreservedly ignoring his date. The poor thing barely notices, chattering away about something not nearly as important to him as watching you. His gaze returns to you, and you can feel him smirking. “You wanna make that guy you've been staring at all night jealous?"

That’s—wow. You didn’t see that one coming. He’s got a lot of audacity to assume that’s something you’d want, let alone offer…what? His services? 

But, then again, he isn’t wrong. Joel’s been the only thing on your mind since you walked into Seth’s tonight and saw him with her. He’s always on your mind if you’re being totally honest with yourself. It’s plain to see, obvious to every single person in this bar including the man himself.

You eye your mystery guy curiously for a second before nodding, your lips quirking into a small smirk. Maybe it’s time to prove to Joel and everyone else in this judgmental town that you’ve moved on, too. That you’re not the sad, bitter shrew that deserves to be alone.

"Yeah, actually, I do," you reply cautiously. But there's still one lingering question that has yet to be answered. "I just…why? I don’t get why you’re helping me. What are you getting out of this?”

He shrugs, and somehow you can just tell by the look in his eyes that there’s no hidden agenda. You’re not sure how you’re just noticing, but he has kind eyes. This whole time, he’s been nothing but patient and attentive, like Joel always was—...is? 

Was.

You almost wish you could fall for someone like this man instead of pathetically clinging to your past. Maybe you’ll at least get a friend out of this crazy night, if nothing else. But then you remember one, tiny problem with that idea.

“Can you tell me your name again? I promise you have my full attention this time,” you smile sheepishly. He chuckles good-naturedly and, again, doesn’t seem to hold it against you.

“It’s Jesse,” he says with a deep, southern drawl you should probably be more attracted to. “And let’s just say I know how it feels to want someone ya can’t have.”

You nod slowly, understanding perfectly. Except—you didn't realize up until this moment that that's exactly what you want. Someone you can't ever have. 

And it took seeing Joel with someone else, his body pressed up against a woman that isn't you, to realize it. Well, that fucking sucks.

You decide not to ask about Jesse's situation. It's not your business and, anyway, you're both trying to feel better about your circumstances, not worse. 

There’s a silent sense of camaraderie between you that tells you to throw caution to the wind. Tossing back the second shot, you turn your stool to face his, literally and figuratively turning your back on Joel. 

“It’s really nice to meet you, Jesse,” you murmur, and you genuinely mean it. He grins, leaning in slowly, still giving you time to back out if you want to, but you don't. 

Eat your heart out, Joel Miller. This one's for you.

"S'nice to meet you, too," he replies softly. 

Then, his lips are on yours. The kiss is wet and open-mouthed, and yet he handles you so delicately. He cradles your face in his hands as his tongue brushes against yours, and you moan softly into his mouth, letting your body get lost in the way he feels. And he feels so—

Much different than Joel. 

All you can think about is how much you miss Joel's rough touch, the way he'd thread his fingers through your hair and tug you into his mouth, nearly devouring you whole. Joel kissed you like every time might be the last, right up until it actually was. 

Fucking hell, why can't you just enjoy this without him ruining it for you?

You try to forget about it, about him, licking into Jesse's mouth a little more aggressively, and he groans, his body eager and responsive. It's probably more than you should be doing in public, sitting at a bar surrounded by people but, hell, you want them to see. 

They can say whatever they want about you. You're done giving a shit.

And, boy, will they have a lot to talk about after tonight. Joel makes sure of that. It happens so fast, you barely register that Jesse’s lips aren’t on yours anymore like they should be.

One moment, Jesse's hands are trailing down your sides to your waist, and the next, he's being forcibly dragged off you. Between you stands a broad, imposing figure ensuring you stay separated.

Your mind goes blank, and all you can do is watch in shock and disbelief as Joel lets loose on him, his words possessive and almost nonsensical. 

"The fuck you think you're doin' touchin' her like that? Y'need to learn how to keep your hands to yourself, kid, before ya get yourself in trouble," he grits out angrily. 

To his credit, Jesse stays cool and collected, but it’s not enough. There’s already a few pairs of eyes on you, drawn by the physical altercation, and it won’t be long before the rest of the bar notices the impending fight.

"Respectfully, sir, s'long as the lady consents, I'll put my hands wherever she wants," Jesse replies, standing his ground. He tries to move around him to return to your side, but Joel fixes him with a look that sends a shiver down your spine.

"S'that really a good idea?" Joel sounds menacing and looks even more so the longer the conversation continues. 

You’re still numb to everything unfolding in front of you and it’s not until Jesse’s next to you again, snaking an arm around your waist, that you finally come to. The reality of your situation hits you like a ton of bricks and now you’re mad. You open your mouth to retaliate, but Jesse cuts you off before you can get a word in.

“There a reason it wouldn’t be?” he turns the question back on Joel and you tense, anticipating a less-than-friendly answer. Jesse squeezes your hip in reassurance, but it does nothing to soothe your unease. He doesn’t know Joel like you do.

“Kid, do I look like I’m fuckin’ around? Take your hands off her and walk away. M'not gonna tell you again,” he all but growls, taking a threatening step forward. 

Neither of you back down. Jesse’s arm stays firm around you as your nails bite into your palm. It's taking everything you've got not to make a bigger scene than you already have.

You knew it. Since the breakup, you’ve been trying to reconcile this increasingly unfamiliar man with the Joel you gave your entire heart to all those years ago. With each passing month, the differences between the two become more and more obvious.

He's angrier now and has so much less patience. It's not that he's unkind. You know that no matter what his circumstances are, Joel will continue to be a good man. But he has a hair trigger, especially when it comes to you. 

And he wants. God, he always wants you. It’s not that you didn’t have an active sex life before everything fell apart. He just...fucks you differently now. Possessively and without restraint, like he needs to be sure you're satisfied enough to never need anyone else. The agreement to keep sleeping together was actually his idea. And it worked for a while—until it suddenly didn't. 

Now, you're forced to come face-to-face with that reality. Sitting at this bar, you spent the entirety of the night believing he'd decided he didn't want you anymore, that he was ready to find happiness in something simpler than sneaking around with his ex.

Except, it's starting to feel like maybe that's not as true as he made it seem. Like he never should've gone on this date in the first place.

"What the fuck, Joel?" you hiss, fighting to keep your volume under control. Not that it matters. The entire bar is staring at you, their eyes ping-ponging back and forth like they're watching a tennis match. "Back the fuck off. Now. This is none of your business."

"The hell it ain't my business. Some kid's runnin' his hands all over another man's girl and y'think that ain't my business?" 

His trembling hands clench into fists at his sides and, while you’re betting the rest of the bar thinks he’s preparing for a fight, that isn’t Joel. It might be you, though, if he keeps this up.

"Excuse me? And whose girl am I—yours? Because I'm pretty sure your girl is sitting over there in that booth. Or did you forget about your date?"

For a moment, he actually has the nerve to look ashamed, like he feels bad about leaving her all alone at their table and for humiliating her in front of all these people. He avoids her crestfallen gaze, likely not ready to face the hurt he’s caused. 

But it only lasts for a second before his eyes darken again, focused solely on you. As if Jesse, his pretty date, and everyone else in this bar disappeared, and it's just you and him. This conversation doesn't include them anymore. It's a private matter now.

"We're leavin'," he says with finality, his tone leaving no room for argument. 

He should know better. That's not how things work with you. You’re a fighter, a trait he’s always loved about you, even if your ire was directed at him. Back then, it rarely was.

"You're out of your mind if you think I'm leaving with you," you scoff bitterly. "Go back to your date, I'll go back to mine, and we can forget about this. All of it. We're done, Joel."

He shakes his head, mouth tipping down into a frown like he's thinking something over. Then, he huffs out a laugh. Like, an actual laugh, and you start to think maybe he really has lost his mind.

"Y'know, I really don't think we are, darlin'," he drawls dangerously. 

He's on you in an instant, his hand wrapped tightly around your arm as he drags you out of the bar. You briefly consider resisting, but he's moving too quickly. All of those shots you downed combined with the beer you drank earlier go straight to your head, and you're suddenly overwhelmingly distracted by the feeling of his skin on yours.

Fuck, it feels like it's been so long. In reality, you know it's only been a few weeks but, god, you missed it. His hands on your body, anywhere at all on your body. You'd hate how quickly you forget about Jesse if you could think about anything else but those familiar, rough fingertips.

The way they dig into you, reminiscent of how he'd squeeze your thighs or clutch your waist when he was making love to you.

...Wait, what? No...no, fuck. Why is he making this so difficult? Why—Christ...why can't you just leave each other alone? If he never planned on letting you go, he shouldn't have broken up with you. And if he still wanted you this badly...all he had to do was ask. You would've said yes in a heartbeat.

So, you let him steal you away, out into the brisk, wintry air that does little to cool your fury or the heat beginning to coil in your belly. The door shuts noisily behind you, and you immediately wrench your arm out of his grasp before he can say a word. It's your turn to talk now.

"What is wrong with you? You can't just...fuck, you can't do shit like this!" You're seething, practically shaking in your rage, and his expression doesn't look much different. 

"And you can? I dunno what the hell you were thinkin' gettin’ cozy with some goddamn kid, lettin’ him touch ya like that in front of the whole town," he reiterates harshly. He's starting to sound like a broken record. It's the only leverage he's got, and you both know it's flimsy at best.

"Some kid? Jesse's a fucking adult, clearly more mature than you," you bite back. "And it’s a bar, Joel. That's what people do at bars."

Joel scoffs, and you can tell he hates the way Jesse's name falls from your lips. Especially when those lips were on yours not even ten minutes ago. 

"And who are you to decide who can and can't touch me? You broke up with me," you continue resentfully. "You don't get a say anymore."

At that, his face becomes unreadable. He didn't need the reminder, and you know that, but it needed to be said for both of your sakes. Sometimes you think maybe he actually forgets it was his choice to give you up. That he didn't realize his decision would hurt you as much as it hurt him.

"So, what? You gonna take him home then, let him fuck ya?" He leans in close, so close you can feel his soft, graying curls against your temple and the coarse drag of his beard across your cheek. 

"Kiss ya here—," a finger trails delicately down the side of your neck to his spot above your collarbone, then continues down to where you've been aching for him for weeks, "—taste ya here." 

You slap his hand away before he can get any further, but your reaction only spurs him on. How could you forget? He likes that.

"Y'know he can't make ya feel as good as I do. Fuck you just how y'like it, make ya cum as hard as I do," he drawls confidently, almost smugly, in your ear. "Don't ya?"

It's less a question than a statement, because you both know he's right. Joel knows your body better than anyone ever has, maybe even better than you know it yourself. Just as much as you know his. And it's sort of funny. You were thinking the exact same thing about him with his date earlier.

"Sure, Joel. Just like you were gonna take that girl home, right?" You raise an eyebrow, turning your head so your lips graze his skin. "Pretty little thing like her, I bet she likes it slow and romantic. She’ll probably even stick around for a snuggle and some pillow talk. You'd love that.”

Even as you mock him, the sneer marring your face doesn’t quite meet your eyes, and the spiteful nature of your words tastes acrid as they pass your lips. He’s so good at that. Always able to bring out the worst in you to prove his point—that he’s no good for you.

But you stand firm, your chest pressed flush against his in a show of determination. You're still in control here, unlike Joel, whose fingers are twitching noticeably at his sides like he's just itching to get his hands on you again. 

"Maybe I would. Liked it with you, didn't I?" he murmurs wistfully, and that catches you completely off guard.

His words are almost too gentle to belong in this argument, and it doesn’t feel fair. What's worse, he looks like he means them. You’d prefer the fight, the aggression of the man who dragged you out of the bar. Not this. Not these traces of your Joel. 

You can already feel your resolve slipping, and the rapid thrum of your heartbeat tells you to let it. When his hands finally take their rightful place on your waist, he’s in control again.

The cool evening air is suddenly stifling, and you’re starting to feel like you’re suffocating, your thoughts a jumbled, heated haze of anger and fear and want. He squeezes hard enough to pull your hips into his and you unintentionally buck, allowing his hands to travel up your shirt. 

There's an intensity to his gaze, tinged with an unexpected tenderness. He almost looks...sated. Fulfilled, now that you're back in his arms. But not completely, not yet.

"You still haven't answered my question," he mutters. His hands splay across your ribcage, high enough for his thumbs to tease the undersides of your breasts.

You bite down hard on your bottom lip, sliding your hands up his chest to push him away so you can catch your breath, but your body won't cooperate. It's been well-trained to crave his touch. Exhaling sharply through your nose, you fist his shirt and instead pull him impossibly closer.

"You asked a lot of questions tonight. You're gonna have to be a little more specific,” you pant heavily.

It's getting more difficult to think, now, with the warmth of his body against you, his thumbs shifting higher to stroke your stiffening nipples. He urges your hips forward again to meet his, and you can already feel him straining in his jeans.

You whimper helplessly, unable to curb the way your body's reacting to him, and the soft sound causes something in him to snap. He suddenly backs you up against the hard brick of the bar's exterior and begins to grind languidly into your stomach. 

"Y'really believe that boy can take care of a woman like you? Hm?" He interrogates you, his voice gravelly and uneven in your ear. "Tell me I'm the only one who can give you what ya need. Wanna hear ya say it."

Fuck, you can't lie to him. As much as you want to, it's just one more thing your body won't allow you to do. Not when he's working you up like this. 

"You're the only one," you moan around your admission. He's still crowding you into the wall, his hands greedily roaming your soft curves.

His eyes meet yours, darting quickly to your mouth before he leans in to kiss you passionately like he’s rewarding you. It only lasts for a second, one deliciously fleeting second, before he pulls away. You’re not sure why you let him. Or why you kissed back.

"Who's the only man who can make ya scream?" he demands a little more urgently.

"You, Joel,” you murmur obediently, your lips already parted and ready for your prize.

And he acquiesces—another insistent kiss that doesn’t last nearly long enough. This time, you chase him, but he jerks his head back. He still has one last question for you. Except, this time, he looks afraid of the answer. 

"Whose girl are ya?"

He whispers it so softly, you barely catch it over the whistling, nighttime breeze. As he brushes a few ruffled strands of hair behind your ear, you answer without hesitation. 

"Yours, Joel."

His entire body relaxes. Now, he's complete.

"Damn right, you are—"

Then, the front door bursts open next to you, and he's abruptly cut off. Joel is quick to tug you around the corner into the alleyway before anyone can spot you, but he's not fast enough to keep you from seeing who just left the bar.

Jesse.

And there it is. A shock to the system, enough to clear some of that smoky, nostalgic haze and bring you back to the present. But as everything hurtles back for the second time tonight, this time around, you can’t be mad because he’s right.

Of course, you're not Jesse's girl. As pathetic as it sounds, you'll always be Joel's because he’s the only one who can take care of you and give you what need. The only man who can make you scream. But that goes both ways.

Even though he’s been picking fights all night, he hasn’t raised his voice once. It's not the way he wins his battles. So, maybe it's time to remind Joel Miller that there is someone who can make him scream. But he isn't allowed to unless you say so.

It all feels eerily familiar—his fingers digging into your waist and your lips crashing into his hard enough to bruise. You lead him deeper into the alley, back to where the glow of the string lights above the bar can't reach you, before you separate from him. 

Neither of you wants to be the one to say it, but it needs to be heard. Here, in the dark, you can be his completely, but once you part ways and return to your empty beds, that's it. Just like last time. The reasons for your breakup are still very real, and that means your relationship can't be.

"Only here. Right, Joel?"   

He stays silent for a moment, his gaze filled with deep longing and sadness. It almost makes you want to take it back. Take him back. So, when he shakes his head and cups your cheeks, kissing you like this might be his last chance, you're not surprised in the slightest.

And after this whole night—this whole confusing, fucked-up night—you let him. Right now, he needs this. Maybe you do, too.

His lips taste like whiskey and relief, and you return his kiss with all of the passion and fervor he’s pouring into you. You’re both a little frantic in the way you touch each other, but as much as you don’t want it to, it makes perfect sense. 

Those few weeks without each other felt like years, and now that his hands are back on your body and his voice, deep and dulcet, is in your ear telling you how badly he wants you, you don’t want to let him go again.

You grind the heel of your hand into the front of his jeans and his responding groan pleases you more than it probably should. This. This is yours—his pleasure, his attention, him. They belong to you and you alone. Not his pretty, perky fucking date. 

The sudden possessiveness stuns you for a moment, but it's not enough to stop the feeling from consuming you. This must be how it feels for Joel. It's potent and feels so, so…right. You're starting to think you've felt this way for a while.

"I needed you, and you made me wait so fucking long," you gasp against his lips, and the fingers cradling your face tense. You’re still fisting his shirt, nearly hard enough to tear, and you wrench it up from where it’s tucked into his pants. 

"M'sorry, darlin', I know. I know I did,” he rasps back, following your lead and dropping his hands from your cheeks so he can unbuckle his jeans. “M'gonna make it up to ya. Tell me what you want, I’ll give it to ya.”

You want everything. Everything he has to give, you want it all. After everything you've been through, the hurt he caused you, you deserve it. And right now, what you want is for him to feel so good, he'll never go on a date with someone who isn't you ever again.

Sharp gravel bites into your bare skin as you drop to your knees in front of him. He's already so hard under all that heavy fabric and looks desperate above you. Just as desperate as you are for him to replace the flavor of Jesse's tequila and lime on your tongue with something saltier and headier, and undeniably Joel.

You hastily unbutton and unzip his jeans, not wasting any more of the precious time you have left together, before tugging them down just enough to free his cock and balls. He looks...fucking mouth-watering—flushed and red and leaking, and so goddamn thick. You wrap your hand around him and he sighs gratefully, dribbling precum onto your fingers.

"This is what I want," you finally reply, keeping your eyes locked on his as you lean forward to lick a broad line up his cock. He hisses in a breath through his teeth, his thighs already beginning to tremble, and you brace your hand on one. "But you're gonna be quiet, okay? I'm gonna suck your cock and you're not gonna make a single sound."

His expression darkens, but he agrees to your terms, nonetheless.

"Sure, darlin'. Whatever you say," he nods, gazing down at you with furrowed brows. He cradles your face in his hand and brushes his thumb along your cheekbone.

The affectionate gesture isn't lost on you, but this time you accept it. Instinctively leaning into his touch, you revel in it for a brief moment before his cock pulsing a frantic rhythm against your palm becomes an unignorable distraction. But a welcome one.

"That's my boy," you mumble against the tip. Just as a pained noise escapes his parted lips, you swallow him down as far as you can take him, purposely gagging yourself on him before you can dwell on the words that accidentally just tumbled out.

Your boy. Your boy. It echoes in your mind, ricocheting wildly and painfully like a bullet. Before you can take it back, maybe even to keep you from taking it back, he buries his fingers in your hair and holds you in place. You choke around him, trying your best to breathe through your nose, but in doing so, you take in a lungful of the heady musk at his base.

The familiarity of it all sends you reeling. He only gives you a second to adjust before he's fucking into your mouth and biting back a litany of needy sounds that rival your own wet, audible gagging. Your grip on his thigh tightens as your throat relaxes, allowing you to take him deeper, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing every time he grazes the back of your throat. 

Tears stream down your cheeks and he wipes them away with a much too tender swipe of his thumb, even as he continues to force you up and down his cock. But you're too lost in your pleasure to notice anymore. So fucking good, you feel so, so good. But you need more, and you're not willing to pull off of him just yet.

Tugging down the front of your shirt, you roll a sensitive nipple between your fingers, and, god, that helps. You imagine they're Joel's and it amplifies the sensation, though your fingertips are still too smooth and delicate. Then, they're replaced by exactly what you've been yearning for all night. 

“You don’t even know how beautiful y'look like this,” he grits out, his fingers running through your hair with one hand and roughly cupping your breast with the other. His hips stutter, and you moan around him. “Fuckin’ perfect. How are ya so fuckin’ perfect?”

Beautiful. More beautiful than her? Well, you must be, because you’re the one here on your knees, choking on his cock, and she’s still sitting in the bar wondering if her date will ever come back. 

He won’t.

You preen without meaning to, your eyes blearily finding his while you drool around him, dripping saliva down his balls and onto your bare breasts. It's as if the visual alone has him thrusting into your mouth faster, pushing your limits only as much as he knows you can take. You must look like a wet dream right now, his wet dream, with your watery eyes and swollen, split-slick lips wrapped tightly around him.

Yet, he's remained so, so quiet this entire time, just like you told him to. Joel likes his sex loud, regardless of where you are and who might hear, so if he’s following your rules, that means something. 

It means he'll do whatever it takes to have you. The realization crashes over you like a bucket of ice water, and then you're pulling off of him. 

“You’ll give me anything, right? Anything I want?” your voice cracks around the question, wrecked from the effort of taking him. His hips chase your hand as you continue to pump him, matching his previous, unforgiving pace. 

“That ain’t a question, y’know I will,” he replies breathily and without hesitation. 

You gaze up at him, praying your eyes convey all of the need and anguish and hope you've felt since the last time you slept together. Since the last time you were his.

“Fuck me," and you won't accept anything less than his all. Not that half-assed shit he would've given her. "Fuck me."

He understands. His heart rate kicks up, thrumming wildly against the palm of your hand, and you know he does.

The growl that rumbles through his chest is nearly soundless but powerful. An entire night's worth of tension culminating in a single exhaled breath, just before he drags you up and spins you around, bending you over against the wall. 

Bracing yourself on the harsh brick, you rush to give him better access, arching your back as he tugs your pants and underwear down to your knees. A callused hand runs upward, following the notches of your spine, while his other spreads across your waist, pulling your hips back onto his so you can feel him, heavy and leaking against your bare ass.

God, he’s so close to where you need him now. His knuckles graze your skin as he grips the base, pumping himself before the blunt head of his cock nudges your entrance.

But then, for some godforsaken reason, you feel a wave of panic. Time suddenly feels like it's running out, worsening with every subtle movement he makes. The ticking clock of your and Joel's relationship, perpetually stuck at two minutes to midnight, has sprung to life and that terrifies you.

You don't want him to stop—fuck, you don't want him to stop, but you know neither of you will last long once he's inside you. The build-up was too intense and this entire night has you both wound up so tight, you could snap at any moment. 

You need to savor this. The way you failed to on your couch all those weeks ago, and might not get to ever again.

“Slow,” you tell him over your shoulder, and it's equal parts a command and a plea. If this is the last time, then you want to feel it. Every thick inch of him, while he still belongs to you. “Just…go slow.”

He nods, shifting forward almost imperceptibly so he can watch your lashes flutter as you brace for the stretch.

"Don't need’ta tell me. I know how ya like it," he replies gruffly.

He does. For now, you won’t overthink it or let yourself get lost in the nostalgia of his cock nestled inside you. You’ll just enjoy it. Sex with Joel has always been mind-blowing, and here, in a dirty alleyway, pressed up against the exterior of a bar, you bet it’ll be life-changing.

It stings like it always does when he breaches your entrance, no matter how wet you are for him. Together, you hiss in a sharp breath, mutually adjusting to the overwhelming stretch that quickly ebbs into something addictive.

"Tight as all goddamn hell," he mutters to himself, rocking into you languidly. He takes his time, relishing your walls enveloping him, mesmerized by the way you suck him in until he's buried to the hilt. 

"Would'ja look at that," he continues in awe, tracing where his cock is forcing you to yield to him. "Greedy fuckin' pussy, ain't she? M'not goin' anywhere, don't'chu worry. Gonna take care of ya...make ya feel so fuckin' good..."

He's starting to babble. Not good. Not good at all. 

Broad hands grip your ass, pulling your cheeks apart so he can see how tightly you’re gripping him, and it's too much. His hips buck, startling a pained whine out of you as he rams into that spot. The one deep inside you he can only reach when he’s fucking you from behind. Your cunt clenches, fighting to keep him there, and he growls low in his throat, hungry and territorial like a wild animal.

"There it is," he nudges it again, purposefully this time. You barely manage to bite back a sob as you gush messily around him. "Christ, honey, y'sure ya still want it slow? 'Cus it sure don't sound like it."

He's patronizing you. He knows exactly what he's doing—that's his spot. He also knows it makes you loud as fuck. But he wouldn’t. There’s no way he’d go back on his word, not after he promised he’d be discreet.

"Joel. Don't," you warn him shakily, but you're already too far gone to be intimidating. 

He pulls out until just the tip is still inside you, huffing out a distinctly calculated breath.

"Don't what? Don't make ya cum nice and loud on my cock? 'Fraid I can't do that, darlin'."

That's all the warning you get before he slams in hard. Your jaw drops, and you're positive you couldn't have stopped the wail punched out of your chest even if you'd tried.

Wrong. You’re wrong again, and you should’ve known better. It’s not the first time he’s gone back on his word, remember? Joel’s shitty lack of communication is why you’re here in the first place. Sure, he agreed to be quiet, but he never said anything about you.

He establishes a brutal pace that has you scrabbling against the wall for purchase and slapping a hand over your mouth in a futile attempt to muffle the desperate cries being forced from your body.

Please, don’t be outside. Please, please, Jesse. Don’t still be outside. 

But your luck's officially run out. 

Heavy mahogany crashes into solid brick, echoing down the alleyway, and a raucous group of people spills out onto the street, barely 30 feet from where your ass and tits are out for anyone to see. Then, the deep baritone of Jesse's voice cuts through the rest, and your blood immediately turns to ice. 

You're fucked. You're about to get caught and expose your secret to the entire town, except...Joel isn't stopping. Fuck, he's—

Yanking your entire body up and ripping your hand away from your mouth, rutting into you like he was just waiting for an audience. He snakes a hand up your stomach to palm at your chest, squeezing firmly to anchor himself as he fucks up into you with all the force he can muster.

And it turns you on so much, you finally stop caring. Fuck it. Fuck this town. Fuck everyone in that bar who made you feel like a goddamn pariah for months, crucifying you for the unforgivable sin of getting your heart broken. 

You hope his date's standing out there, too, so she can hear everything she'll never get to have. So they can all see that Joel Miller isn't the crushed, cruelly dumped old man they all thought he was.

Your moans ring out, loud and high-pitched, all but drowning out the messy slap of his hips into the drenched curve of your ass.

"That's it, darlin', let it all out," he chuckles darkly against the shell of your ear. Your next moan tapers into a drawn-out keen that he mimics, his thrusts getting shallow and sloppy. "S'for me, right? Let 'em know you're makin' all those pretty noises just for me."

Christ, you're close. And he's as close as you are, you can feel it. You turn your head, nodding jerkily into his shoulder.

"S'for you, Joel—mmph, just for you. Only for you," your words slur as he continues to bounce you on his cock. 

"Tell 'em you're mine, darlin’. Not just here," he pants raggedly, desperation coating his words. "Everywhere. You're mine everywhere."

The voices are getting closer, about to pass the mouth of the alley, and the ice in your veins quickly thaws, turning to molten lava. They'll definitely be able to able to hear you, but can they see you? For the umpteenth time tonight, you decide you really don't give a shit. You've got none left. You and Joel, that's all that matters now. 

His hand drops between your legs, thick fingers swirling tight, slick circles into your clit while he waits for you to confirm what he already knows. You've said it again and again—weeks ago, wrapped up in his arms, and earlier tonight, after the worst argument you've had since the breakup. 

And you’ll tell him again in this alley as you cum blindingly hard around his cock. Third time's the charm.

"Y-yours, Joel. I'm always yours."

His hips completely lose their rhythm, and he barely has time to breathe out his contentment before the violent convulsing of your cunt and contrasting serenity of your words send him hurtling over the edge.

"That's my girl."

He crashes his lips into yours, swallowing every noise you make as the group finally comes into view. Their drunken chattering and roughhousing aren't enough to draw your attention away from each other, but the depraved sounds of Joel continuing to fuck you through your release captures theirs almost immediately.

A few of them stop to squint into the darkness, trying their best to pinpoint what everyone already knows is happening further down the alley. As they inch closer, they can just barely make out two connected figures, and the wind carrying muffled gasps and labored breathing with it into the street all but confirms it.

"Y'all seein' this?" they whisper amongst themselves, but in the inebriated state they're in, they might as well be yelling.

And that's what pulls you and Joel back to reality. Shit. Shit. So, this is it, then. You tense in Joel's arms, waiting to get called out as the slutty girl who seduced her ex away from his date. Hell, they're not even wrong. You can feel his cum dribbling out of you, and can't help but think maybe you'd deserve it.

From where you're standing, you recognize each and every one of their faces under the string lights, and you know damn well that none of them can keep their mouths shut. Except...wait a second. They're still glancing back and forth between you and Joel in the shadows and each other. 

Oh. The fucking shadows. None of them can see shit. They have no clue who the hell they're looking at. Joel must've caught on around the same time you did, because now he's backing up, putting more distance between you and the looming crowd. Before they can get any closer, one of the younger guys cuts in front to block their path.

“C’mon, it's probably a couple’a teenagers. Just let ‘em be," he drawls, glancing back at you. Your eyes lock, and you're suddenly so grateful, you could cry. It's Jesse. He shoots you a wink before turning back to the group, shaking his head in mock admonishment. "Don't act like y'all weren't doin' the same damn thing at their age."

By some miracle, it fucking works. They all laugh in agreement, appeased by Jesse's quick thinking. One by one, they follow each other out of the alley and back onto the road to continue their original path home. Jesse lingers. 

"Glad y'all figured things out," he calls out over his shoulder, giving you privacy to tug your shirt back up. He clears his throat awkwardly before continuing, "Look, I, uh...distracted as many people as I could from comin' over here, but if y'all were gonna be that loud, maybe you should'a figured things out at home."

Jesse shakes his head again, chuckling to himself as he shoves his hands into his pockets.

"Anyway, y'all have a good night, now. Get home safe."

As he jogs away to catch up with the rest of the group, you start to laugh, too. You can’t help it. It feels cathartic, relieving some of the tension of this overly eventful night.

Joel’s body begins to shake behind you, his chest rumbling with what you realize is deep-bellied laughter. It gradually increases in volume as it melds seamlessly with yours; transitory, white clouds of condensation that intertwine, then dissipate.

You feel him slip out as he starts to soften, and then he turns you to face him, carefully crowding you into the wall. He kisses you again, this time slow and deliberate like you asked him to earlier. His tongue meets yours, gasps exchanged and treasured like you have all the time in the world. 

When he parts from you, it feels reluctant, but he stays close, whispering his next words against your lips.

“M’gonna get ya cleaned up, alright?” he mumbles, dropping his arm from around your waist to run his fingers up the cum leaking down your thighs. You shiver as they continue up, slipping his release back inside you. “Don’t…,” he continues, squeezing his eyes shut as his forehead drops to yours, “…just—don’t go anywhere. Please. I’ll be right back.”

Maybe he’s trying to protect himself from the response he anticipates you’ll give him, but that seems silly after everything you’ve been through tonight. You cup his cheek and thumb the coarse, trimmed hairs of his beard, willing him to open his eyes. He does, hesitantly, one then the other, and you offer him a soft smile.

“I’m not going anywhere, Joel.”

An intoxicating breath fans across your face, and the taut muscles in his neck and shoulders loosen. His lips match the soft quirk of your own and, then, brush fleetingly against your cheekbone as he backs away and disappears through a metal side door you didn't notice before. The moment it clicks shut, you slump against the wall. 

Christ. Your mind is simultaneously blank and racing a mile a minute. Taking a deep breath, you let your head thunk into solid, grounding brick while you wait for even a single coherent thought to take root. What now? What happens next? 

There's no coming back from tonight. You both made choices you'll have to answer for, but, for some reason, that doesn't seem so scary anymore. The clock is ticking, but there's time. Plenty of it.

You're still lost in your reverie when Joel gets back with a thick wad of damp paper towels. You snort at the idea of him suddenly appearing in Seth's kitchen and having to explain himself, but maybe the racket you kicked up right outside his door was explanation enough.

"Seth didn't give you any shit for stealing his stuff?" you ask as Joel drops to his knees and coaxes one of your legs over his shoulder.

The cold air has already started to leach the warmth from the paper towels, and they feel cool as he slides them along your soiled skin. He huffs out a laugh.

"Nah, the kitchen was empty. Think they're startin' to close up for the night." 

When he finishes your first thigh, he surprises you by leaning in to press a soft kiss against your freshly cleaned skin. He nips at you teasingly before starting on the next one.

You hum in response, threading your fingers through his hair and watching fondly as he pays careful attention to his task. He continues to wipe away his drying release, trailing his lips down your thigh as he goes, until he finishes at your knee.

He gazes up at you with a charmingly crooked grin, and that’s when it finally slips out. The single coherent thought you’ve been waiting for.

“I love you, Joel,” you murmur, brushing your fingertips across his cheek. 

His smile falters. Then, it drops completely and your heart shatters. You don’t understand. But that—no. No, it doesn’t make any fucking sense. After everything that’s happened, how could you have been wrong again?

Joel sighs, grimacing as he slowly gets back up. He braces himself on one knee, clearly aching more than he's letting on, but when you reach down to offer him a hand, he refuses your help.

“S’fine, I got it. Just…,” he gestures to your jeans, still hanging loosely around your knees. You pull them up, fighting not to feel humiliated as he rises to his full height. 

You search his eyes for…something. Anything. Any indication of what he’s feeling right now, but they’re blank. Cold and distant, just like they were the night he left you. 

No. He doesn’t get to do this to you again. Not after everything you’ve been through. Not without an explanation. Not if he doesn’t want to lose you forever.

“Tell me why you broke up with me."

For a long time, you genuinely believed you could live without knowing the truth, but somewhere along the line, it began to eat away at you. Now, you want the real reason. He owes you that, at the very least.

You wait while he either works himself up to it or tries to figure out what bullshit to tell you this time. Once his hands settle on his hips, you know with absolute certainty it's the latter.

“Darlin’…,” he starts wearily, but you shoot him a look that stops him in his tracks. He doesn't get to call you that right now, and he knows it. Pausing, he nods grimly before beginning again. "We already talked about this. I’m no good for ya. It was only a matter of time before ya woke up one day and realized it for yourself.”

There it is. That same bullshit reason. You scoff bitterly, not surprised in the slightest.

“What the fuck does that even mean, Joel? We were together for years. If that was gonna happen, don’t you think it would’ve already?" you counter angrily. 

You're trying not to get emotional. This can't be a repeat of what happened last time, but it's dragging up too many painful memories. It's always the same fight. You can't do this anymore.

"You know what? Fuck you," you seethe as your self-control slips completely. "Fuck you for making that decision for me. You had no right."

At your words, his face crumples and he has the nerve to look ashamed. Maybe even a little hurt. His pained expression makes your heart ache, yet a nastier part of you believes it's only fair that he feels this way, too. He sighs, his eyes dropping wistfully to his feet.

“I did what I thought was best," he mumbles quietly as if he doesn't want to be heard. It's hard for him to say this out loud, and you realize it's because he's finally telling you the truth. "I just…I thought you’d be happier with someone else, someone who could give ya a family. Kids. I gave you up so you could have the life ya always wanted."

You eye him incredulously. The life you always wanted? Sure, you and Joel had toyed with the idea of having a family once upon a time, but that was never a dealbreaker. He should've known that. He should've brought it up before deciding to destroy your life together over an idealized fantasy.

“Oh, here we go. Joel, the fucking savior. Mr. Fix-It, swooping in to save everyone and solve every problem," you hurl back venomously. But it was a cruel thing to say, and you immediately hate yourself for it.

Rationally, you know his intentions were kind. He probably even thought he was being selfless. But he hurt you, and, through your tunnel vision, that's all you can see. You push yourself off the wall, stalking closer to where he stands, still refusing to look at you.

"So what, you thought you’d dump me and I’d immediately shack up with some other asshole? Is that really what you think of me?”

His eyes shoot up to yours and his fingers begin to tap restlessly at his sides. Now, you've pissed him off. 

“Don't go puttin’ words in my mouth. That ain’t true and you fuckin’ know it," he all but growls, his body shaking with a turbulent combination of frustration and adrenaline.

You're starting to feel it, too. This conversation is overwhelming both of you, but he still hasn't told you everything. There's a piece missing, keeping all of his disjointed reasonings from adding up. He's holding back and it's time for him to stop.

“Then what is, Joel?" you plead with him to give you a definitive answer. One that finally explains why you had to lose everything. Ellie, your home. The love of your life. "What’s the truth?"

Then, everything he's kept bottled up inside and allowed to poison his happiness claws its way out as a single, unwavering statement. 

“I’m too fuckin’ old for you!”

The silence that follows his admission is deafening. You watch in shock as he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He's never yelled like that before or looked so defeated. By something as innocuous as his age. 

It isn't something you'd ever considered, not before your relationship and never once during. But he did. His bottom lip starts to tremble as he turns and takes a few steps away from you.

“Every day, I’d watch ya…offerin’ to take more shifts, spendin’ time at the school with Ellie and the kids," he says softly, shaking his head as he works through his next words. "And every day, I’d feel it. My body givin’ out on me, more and more. My blood pressure’s up, my goddamn knees are creakin’. Couldn’t even fuckin’ stand up on my own just now." 

When he turns back to you, his eyes are wet with unshed tears. He feels too far, but you know you can't go to him, yet. He's not finished.

"You can do better than that. You deserve better than that," his voice cracks and your whole world blurs into a wash of colors. “You’re gonna outlive me by a mile. I’m an old man, darlin’. It wasn’t fair for me to keep ya.”

For a while, you just watch each other. Tears overflow and continuously spill down his cheeks and yours, but neither of you moves to wipe them away. 

None of this is fair. You're both miserable and heartbroken, perpetually yearning for a love you've told yourselves you can't have. Months ago, Joel made a choice for both of you. You won't make the same mistake he did.

"I didn't want fair, Joel. I wanted you. A life with you...," your face screws up as you fight back a sob, "...the rest of my life with you, however long that is."

Joel takes a tentative step forward, carefully reaching out to touch you, but stops himself before he can get too close. He looks afraid...of you. Scared of the consequences of allowing you back into his heart. 

A sob escapes your chest, then, and you wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly bitterly cold and wanting nothing more than for Joel to hold you. To tell you for the first time since the breakup that he loves you and, regardless of time, won't ever stop.

So, you cross the alleyway and cup his wet cheeks in your hands, wiping away his sadness and, hopefully, his fears. He melts into the poignant familiarity of your touch and it makes you brave. This time, you'll be brave enough for both of you.

"Don't I deserve that?" you whisper, close enough to share his next breath. He watches your lips, hanging onto your every word. "Don't you?" 

His eyes meet yours, and it finally happens. The moment Joel gives in and decides to let himself be happy. He nods slowly in your grasp, reaching up to cradle your hand on his cheek. 

"Dunno what I deserve, darlin'. Not after the things I've done and the hurt I put ya through. But if I'm...if this is really what ya want...," he hesitates, his voice thick with tears and, yet, still that full-bodied, twang that sounds like home. "I'm yours. 'Til my last breath, I'm yours."

He kisses you before either of you can start crying again, and it's all there. The love he kept under lock and key to protect you, released from the prison of his own making.

His kiss feels different again. There's no hunger or rush, and the possessiveness—the need to devour everything you have to give so there's nothing left for anyone else—is gone. He's sure, now, that there's no one else you'd rather give yourself to.

His arms circle your waist and he pulls you closer, crushing you into time-worn chambray and sullied denim as you continue to explore each other like a pair of horny teenagers. Two lovers learning to give and take for the first time. Time passes slowly in this space you've carved out for yourselves, even as the moon continues to rise in the night sky and floods the corridor with light. 

Then, noisily and as if right on cue, the last-call crowd stumbles from the bar and immediately catches what the previous group missed. You and Joel separate, dazed but unhurried, to find that it's them. 

It has to be fucking kismet that, of everyone in Jackson, the first to witness your reconciliation would be the biggest blabbermouths in the entire town. The same women who talked shit about you every day for months and constantly vied for Joel's attention, standing there with wide eyes and slack jaws.

Their varied expressions almost make you want to laugh, and you can't help but snort unattractively into Joel's shoulder. Half of them are glaring at you, and the rest look either devastated or genuinely surprised. Guess you were better at hiding your arrangement than you thought, not that it matters anymore. It's a relationship again, and everyone's about to know all about it. Joel clears his throat, drawing their attention back to him.

"Evenin', ladies. S'there somethin' we can help ya with?" he drawls, breaking out the Southern charm that endeared every single one of them to him in the first place.

They all shake their heads, looking a little too pleased with themselves once the initial shock wears off and they realize you've just given them the gossip of the century. After a few fake, high-pitched pleasantries, they slink away as quickly as they came, already chatting to themselves about some shit you'll definitely hear tomorrow at breakfast. You watch them go, feeling oddly liberated.

"Guess the cat's outta the bag, huh?" You wrap your arms loosely around his neck, still chuckling softly to yourself. Joel huffs out a laugh, too, bending down to kiss the crown of your head before nodding in agreement.

"'Fraid so," he muses, amusement and a hint of something lighter glinting in his eyes. 

You haven't seen him this relaxed in a long time. As he holds you in his arms, he leans a fraction of his weight on you to ease the night's strain on his back and knees, and it makes you feel needed. Relied on. That's new, Joel depending on you like this. Things are going to be different this time around, you can tell. They already are. 

You hum, ruminating on what awaits you after your first night back in your own bed, in your own home. What everyone will think and say—to your face and behind your back—when they find out you're back together. Though, the only opinions you give a shit about are Ellie, Tommy, and Maria's, anyway.

So, yeah, you're a lot of things right now: exhausted, yet relieved and so full of hope. But you're not afraid, the cat and the bag be damned.

"I'm not," you tell him honestly as you pull away. You let your hands trail from his shoulders, down his arms, until his hands are in yours. 

Tugging gently, you walk him backward out of the alley, away from the bar and plummeting winter chill, and any lingering, prying eyes. Even the moon and stars have no stake in what comes next. This moment, right here and now, belongs to you and Joel, alone.

"Take me home, Joel."

The light in his eyes burns brighter, amusement giving way to adoration and contentment. He's been waiting for this, to be given the privilege of keeping you safe and taking care of you the way he needs to—it's how he shows love. 

He slots his fingers between yours and leads you down the empty streets of Jackson. 

"Darlin', nothin' would make me happier."

thanks for reading!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[killuintense]

leon taking care of you while you are ovulating!

it really was a whirlwind of emotions to be on your period, but most of all you suffered even more during the period when you were ovulating and seemed to be completely unhinged with Leon. sometimes you wondered why the poor guy hadn't ended up running away from you the instant that time of the month came when you saw him as a giant stuffed animal to keep your hands on whenever you could.

it was strange and annoying, but all too satisfying at the same time. on the one hand, ovulating you noticed those mood swings, going from happiness to absolute sadness or anger that made you want to crush your own bones. but your cute boyfriend was always there to make up for it, telling you it was okay if you inadvertently got too angry with him or crying for some stupid reason; he never blamed you.

nor did he blame you when you seemed to want to have your hands all over him all the time. but you were horny all the fucking time, and when he was at work you would fantasize about having him touch you at every turn, and when he was with you your hands would become a whirlwind on top of his body "what's going on, love?" he looked confused as you tried to lift his shirt and touch his pecs, pouting as you noticed he was ticklish and gently lowered your hands.

"let me touch you!" your whimsical voice caused him to giggle more, he knew you were like this because you were close to your period, and he always gave you what you wanted because he was weak to you. and it wasn't that it always ended in something properly sexual, sometimes they would just spend whole minutes kissing and he would let you caress his body, squeezing his arms, stroking his hair. It all seemed to make you feel full and satisfied.

that is until your period was near and your tits started to swell and get tender. it was the most painful moment but, as contradictory as it sounded, it was when both of you fucked the most. you were so sore, even before you bled, that the only thing that soothed you was your man's cock. even his hands, without going any further.

you asked him with that puppy face to help soothe the pain in your breasts. your nipples looked like they were about to explode and he loved the sensation of feeling them get so hard the instant he ran his fingertips over them "so cute..." if his fingers weren't enough, he used his mouth to suck on the sensitive skin to make you tremble under him. those massages he gave you, even if there was a connotation of arousal, soothed you too much. his voice resonated with love and care "i have to learn to take care of them from now on, don't i, sweetheart?" he would kiss the skin gently, in that just right spot he knew so it wouldn't hurt but would cause you a 'something' "when you are with your tummy swollen from my baby and your tits full of milk, i have to take care of you so they don't hurt" and there you felt it was the death of you.

you seemed to have everything you needed, because it wasn't really the desire of both of you to be parents —because you were still very young—, but your desires for Leon to impregnate you and leave his mark inside you at that time of the month were too overwhelming. you whimpered when he said those kinds of things to you, when his hands kneaded your swollen, sensitive skin. you were so bad, so needy and ruined that that alone was enough to make you cum... yes, just that.

he laughed softly, as without having to bury himself between your legs you were already completely wet and, much to his dismay, exhausted from an instant orgasm that only left you half asleep in his arms with the pain in your breasts calmer and your mind full of images of you holding the future love fruit of you and Leon in your arms. you seemed drugged by that sensation, almost without being aware before you fell asleep in a tranquility where you knew that even on the most sensitive days you would have your boyfriend to please you in whatever way you wanted.

#leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy resident evil #leon death island #leon kennedy #leon re4 #leon kennedy headcanons #leon resident evil #resident evil fluff #resident evil vendetta #leon kennedy smut #leon re2 #leon s kennedy #resident evil leon #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy #leon smut #leon x reader #re4 leon #re4r leon #vendetta leon #resident evil 6 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #re2 #re4 #resident evil death island #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x reader #re3 remake

[daskolas]

MOON IN HOUSES

Moon is a fast moving planet. It moves from one sign to another in approx 2 days 6 hours. Moon is considered as queen in Vedic astrology. Moon shows feminine energy and represents mother.

Moon in 1st house

These individuals are very emotional

Their nature is very changing i.e they can feel anger or sadness or any other type of emotion very quickly.

They can adapt to any situation quickly. Mutable in nature.

These people are also very caring. Some of them can even cry if they see their loved one crying or going through a hard time.

Individuals with moon in 1st house can be little chubby, if not then they are prone to gain a little weight

They are romantic. They often listen to their heart rather than brain.

These are the type of people who will know how to react in what situation.

They also have etiquette. Like the type of people who have tons of table manners and all those things.

Their eyes are very pretty just like moon. However, they have weak eyesight.

They have a lot of influence of their mother on them. Their mother could also have been more dominating at home.

Moon in 2nd house

Their money is always fluctuating. Like some month they are earning a lot but next month, their income isn't as as strong

Their financial gain is also not equal. There will be tons of up and down financially.

Despite having unstable income. People with this placement tend to make a good living for themselves. It does show that individuals will earn a lot of money.

If moon is strong, then they will be attached to their family and will also get a lot of happiness from their family.

Some of them are also very scared of dressing up even though they like to as they think that people around them are judging them.

They spend a lot of money. People with this placement most often tend to fall for retail therapy.

Natives with this placement are interested in helping people. They like to do social work. Their career choice can also be effected by this.

They also very caring and want to fulfill needs of people around them. Depending on rest of the chart, they may or may not show their love and affection for others

They also have very positive view towards life.

They tend to get attached to any non-living thing.

Moon in 3rd house

They never feel satisfied. Their heart is always wishing for more and more.

Individuals with this placement cannot feel relaxed. As their mind is always wandering off. They are always thinking about different topics.

The more they desire to have a relaxed mind and heart, the more stressed they can get.

They are very hardworking. As the moon which denotes heart is in house of hardwork.

They have a lot of mood swings.

They will not have stable relationship with their mother. Their will always be love and hate in their relationship. This is because relation of 4th house is in 12th house from its position.

They will be very attached to their neighborhood and thei younger sibling. They are also prone to reminiscing their primary school life.

They are good writers. As they have a broad imagination.

People with this placement also have easy go attitude.

They want to learn about many things. They have a mind of researcher, always digging deep.

Moon in 4th house

Individuals have emotional attachment towards their mother or hone.

Individuals do not have any control over their heart. They have a hard time having some self control.

They like to stay in their comfort zone only.

They like luxurious items like jewellery or even an expensive phone

They are imaginative. If they have creative placements then they can be good in art. Given their imagination they can create something really good.

They gain security from relationships. If a relationship gets affected somehow then they can feel insecure and think they are not good enough

They are way too much dependent on their relationship with other people and materialistic items.

Person is very calm and patient. They also are very emotional.

It is believed that individuals will have a lot of assets like home, vehicles etc in their life.

You can be prone to people-pleasing.

Moon in 5th house

They will have a very close relationship with their kids. They also are attached to them and love them unconditionally.

They can have a good luck in stock market. They can even be interested in learning about different shares

They are very creative and are very interested in creative things like drawing, singing or dancing.

This placement gives a lot of curiosity. They are interested in learning about different things and expanding their knowledge.

They have a lot of empathy. They can easily put themselves in other person's show.

This is a placement that shows that the person is a great listener. They also give good advices.

Individuals with this placement are very welcoming and care a lot for other people.

These people give way too much and do not receive on that level. You should learn how to not drain yourself.

They will also be able to connect with the opposite sex more. They will also have many romantic relationship.

Their higher education will be successful. As 5th house rules it.

Moon in 6th house

They are very shy people. They also feel very hesitant to ask for things. They are the type of people who will not correct their order when they receive them wrong.

Individual is introvert

They always are thinking about past events like thinking how they could have done something differently.

They also are very indecisive. They are always weighing down different options. And even if they select one then they think about it a lot rather than moving forward with it.

They also have weak immune system. They can fall ill easily.

They will always their enemies on their mind. Which will have effect on their mental health. They will also be thinking about their competitors and enemies.

They can have a strained relationship with their mother or have some kind of childhood problem in any way.

Their mother can work in the service industry like a nurse, caregiver etc.

Individual worries a lot. They are most of the time overthinking about different scenarios which can effect their mental health.

CW: MENTION OF INFERTILITY

They can have problems with kids like they can be infertile.

(credits: @flickr on Pinterest)

Moon in 7th house

Spouse will be very emotional and romantic

They will have a lot of influence of their mother on them.

They are prone to mood swings.

They will also be good looking. They will also have kind looking eyes.

Individual will know how to talk with people. They will know how to work the crowd.

Individual will know what to say and when to say it. They will be socially intelligent.

Individuals can be good at handling daily issues. Whether it is work related or household related, they can handle tasks easily.

You could pursue a profession related to business, legal field, marketing etc. You will also be able to excel in your career. As this placement is considered lucky

You are loyal to your partner. You will put your whole energy into anything, it doesn't matter if it is work or relationships. (Negative result if the moon is weak)

If the moon is strong then they will be emotionally intelligent, however if it is weak then the result will be the opposite.

Moon in 8th house

People with this placement are incredibly sensitive to the environment

They also are mysterious regarding their studies or they like studying occult subjects. They are deeply interested in topics which you do not read about in daily life.

They also are incredibly good in hiding their feelings. As moon is weak in this house, therefore they are not able to express what they are feeling.

They also are deep thinker. They want to understand why a person reacts in a way they do.

Many people with this placement have high libido

This position also indicates that the person is not good with kids or they are not interested in having them.

They also are interested in researching things. Many people of this placement also tend to he interested in getting PhD.

People with this placement are also not able to handle themselves emotionally. They feel too much inside

Many people with this placement do not talk much. They are very silent and also prefers to stay in a quiet environment

They are very hardworking and will do anything to achieve success.

Moon in 9th house

Individual will be religious. They will also travel to many religious places.

People with this placement put a lot of effort for succeeding which also increases their chances of being popular

They are interested in philosophy a lot. They like to share their experience or hear other's experience.

They will get benefit from their mother

They will have influence of their teacher for their entire life.

They also are more logical. They like to live their life in a certain structure and only work according to it.

As, this placement is neutral so the native will have many up and down in their life.

Many of them also tend to be philanthropists.

They are peace loving individuals who will avoid conflict at any cost. Many of them also have trouble confronting people.

They do really well in their higher studies. And they may also want to travel to another city/country to get a certain degree

Moon in 10th house

This isn't considered good placement as the person will be constantly changing their profession. They will go from one job to another or will change their business fastly

It'll be good for their career, if they can get into a profession through which they can travel.

Their will be tons of up and down in career. It will not be stable

Individual wants to work. They like to put all the efforts in their work

They get satisfied from their work itself. They are also perfectionist

Individual's father is very caring. He will also care a lot about native. Father or their mother in law will have soft nature like nurturing, calm, patient. They don't hurt other people with their words.

Same as their father, people with this placement are also caring and nurturing

They like learning about new things. They want to gain as much as knowledge they can. And may want to become "jack of all trades but master of none."

They also want to present themselves in a certain way. And when they do not they may start feeling anxious or insecure

A person is also able to connect with many influential people in their life which can help them bring closer to their goal

Moon in 11th house

Person will do only those things which they think they will get benefit. They won't learn anything which will not benefit them

They even put efforts in those relationships only which will be fruitful or if they can get something from the person in return

They will have a good relationship with their elder siblings. They will even get benefit from them like they can give them advices or anything.

They can understand easily from where the other person is coming from. They see two sides of the coin. Therefore, they can be good mediator

Individuals are extroverts. They like to socialise with other people a lot. They also know how to network

This is a placement which also works as a wish fulfilling placement. If they really desire something then they can manifest it

They will also feel happy and more content with themselves when they will spend more time in social environment

They will feel like they are good at many things so what exactly to pursue. This can make them feel anxious about their future

People with this placement are also very imaginative and dreamy. They have big dreams for their future

People with this placement are not the most emotionally stable

Moon in 12th house

Person will have trouble sleeping. They also tend to develop insomnia.

They can have trouble in their left eye. Or their eyesight is weak.

They will also have to go through a lot of emotional difficulties. They can face many issues which can make their emotions heightened.

They also have to go through loneliness in their childhood. They tend to be ostracized by their peers or even family members.

They tend to have strained relationship with their mother. There will be some distance between them or they will not get any support from her.

They tend to have a really hard time in earning fame.

They hide their feelings from other people. They don't express themselves much which can lead to emotional outburst.

Many people with this placement tend to have prophetic dreams. They can foresee the future or have really good intuition

They have problems with depression, anxiety, fainting etc.

This position also indicates that the native has weak memory or suffer from some mental problems.

#astro community #astrology #astro notes #jyotish #sidereal astrology #vedic astro notes #vedic astrology #astro observations #moon #moon in houses

[starillusion13]

Hi! can I request an ateez 9th member poly au but the scenario is they make her feel left out, being mean and entertains another girl from another grp and she was painted as the villain by that girl! so they gang up on her, she suddenly left the group and now they’re chasing her back!!

Missing Piece

Pairing: Ateez!ot8 x f!reader

Genre: Idol au, Angst, Mature

Warnings: ignorance, tired, mention of drugs( just a rumor), leaving the group, feeling left out, light arguments, anxiety, evil intentions(a pick me not y/n), a mess of emotions nothing more.

W.C: 6.9k

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. After writing this fic, I realized that I don't know how to write 9th member fics😔. I hope this what you wanted anon<3.

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Now let’s take a moment to appreciate my dear friend @dreamsoffanfics Thanks for helping me out and being my proofreader. A dear friend indeed <3.

"Congratulations Ateez!"

Whenever this phrase echoed, you always felt proud and satisfied with yourself for coming a long way. It's obvious that your hard work and determination made it possible for you to stand strong and shine on this ground.

But, a wave of emotions was running inside you today because of the feelings that are itching your mind.

The scandals you are in lately.

The staff and other idols who are passing by while making your way towards the private room are constantly congratulating you and the members of your group. They all are having a wide smile across their faces but you just hesitantly smiled towards others. You know very well that everyone is aware of the scandal you are currently dealing with.

You excuse yourself from the washroom and Hongjoong notices you stepping away in another direction. He called out your name and asked where you were off to but you didn't reply or turned back.

All the members were gathered in front of their room to enter but when they saw their leader---the captain was standing in front of the door and looking in a particular direction. They all looked towards your fading figure into the hallway.

"Where is she going now?" San asked the captain but quickly noticed the anger on his face.

Hongjoong slammed open the door and others followed him inside the room, "I don't know. She didn't reply to me when I asked her. She is really becoming stubborn."

"What's her problem? Isn't she acting so childish all the time?" Mingi slumped down on a cushioned chair and closed his eyes when placing himself comfortably.

Jongho shook his head while removing the mic and earpiece from around his neck and placing it on the wide desk in front of the mirror. "What about the updates on her scandal? The way she is sneaking around here and there, I feel like believing those are not just scandals."

"No. I don't think that's possible. I don't see a sign from her taking any drugs." Seonghwa stated and looked at the leader who was leaning against the wall after removing all the unnecessary items from him. When he caught his eyes, the one standing sighed.

"But she didn't even deny it." Hongjoong said and raised a brow.

Yeosang nodded and spoke up, earning others attention to his words,"When the manager asked her to explain the matter she remained silent and was staring down as if she was high on drugs. Even when the company tried to answer the question about her on the internet, she refused to make a statement."

Some of them nodded and others had confusion visible on their faces.

Wooyoung pointed at your bag beside his and asked, "why did she bring this bag again?" He lifted the bag and found it to be the same bag which you're carrying everywhere, "it seems like she has a lot of stuff inside it."

"Open it." Hongjoong orders the younger one but he hesitated to the command. "I said open it. I am asking you for it and she has no say in this."

"But it's a girl's bag."

"Don't act like we don't stay together. Even if I ask her about bringing this bag, she won't reply. And if something inappropriate is there then we would apologize to her later."

The younger nodded but before he could open the bag. The manager entered. Hongjoong signaled to put the bag down.

It was always a bit challenging for you to be in a group where you are the only female member. All the fans accepted you very willingly and gave you lots of love on the day when it was announced you would be the last member of the debut line. Yeah, the competition had always included the five girls with the boys but you didn't expect back then to be in the lineup of the final showdown. As you were very sure of Minnie to be debuting with them. Her talents and looks are always remarkable and you admired her dance moves and vocals so much. And, you're sure others loved her more than you. They have a strong friendship with her even after her debuting in a different group 'Stray Kids'.

But your members never made you feel left out or different for being a girl. At first they were a bit hesitant to have you as the member but gradually you all became close and had so much fun together during the first MV shooting. Your debut was memorable with you all traveling to a different country and experiencing several new things.

Moreover, your members treated you like the baby of the group. They pampered you so much and of course, they won't leave a chance to annoy the shit out of you. You felt closer with Jongho because he was around your age so you were always paired up with him. And that's how the deep friendship started between you both.

Ateez are very close with Stray Kids and for that you all often meet them to dine out and hang out on off schedule days and after encore and promotion stages. You loved Minho's company a lot because you both clicked together perfectly. But there was something you noticed: San doesn't like you spending time with Stray Kids and sometimes, he and the others often drag you away with your members telling them that they need to hurry back to the dorm because something urgent came up. Only for you to get scolded later by Hongjoong that being so friendly with others would lead you to get into a lot of scandals.

What about them?

They often can be seen talking with Minnie after the performances or concerts and even two or three of them hanging out with her. Did you ever say anything? No. Then how come the dating rules only apply to you? You had enough one day and screamed at her and them, telling them that because of her Ateez would soon be under controversy but she quickly apologized to you and cried to them.

That was not the end. Because of her Hongjoong treated you really badly. He and other members used harsh words on you and others supported him on the fact that you had overreacted for no reason. They really started to go out alone without you - you were already used to it. But after the incident, they purposely made you feel left out. That didn't even stop them being friendly with her. They even did the new dance challenge with her and the way she was leaning on Seonghwa's arm made you glare at the video longer until the manager announced the practice time.

All these struggles really made you exhausted day by day and it's even showing in your performances and interaction with others. One afternoon, you were in the middle of the preparation for the comeback when you suddenly got to know about something trending under your name on all social media platforms.

'Is y/n really taking drugs?'

And the comments under the post - some supporting your side saying it's fake but you were shocked to see the amount of people believing the post and making strong comments that your recent appearances do look like you are under its effects. You ignored the news, you ignored everyone. You thought about the trainee days and then after debuting. You had lots of fun with Ateez. There are a lot of good memories and there are a lot more than just memories which couldn't be revealed everywhere. You tried to talk with others but never had the courage so you kept everything to yourself. Whenever you were asked to clarify on this matter, you remained silent.

One day, finally you had a talk session with your manager to discuss the ongoing situation. Many of your fans went against you and you accepted their opinions because you didn't make any strong denial statement on it so it's obvious for people to suspect you. You are being a bad influence on the industry.

"Are you sure about this?" the manager had concern and worry etched across her face but you just nodded and sighed when she kept staring at you.

"I don't want to change my mind. I have come up with this decision after thinking a lot."

She opened a file on her tablet before passing it to you to read, "read this. And, what about them? This is a big decision so please think carefully."

"I know."

"Will you be fine after this? People might blame you more."

"I don't have any other option. Even if I have, this is the only thing that seems right to me right now."

She just nodded in acceptance.

.

.

.

As the manager entered the room, she noticed Wooyoung placing your bag down to the side of the chair. Hongjoong stepped forward to greet her and she sent a quick smile to everyone present in the room, also noticing your absence there.

"You all don't have any more upcoming schedules this week so hurry up, we have to leave for the dorm. You guys look so tired. You all didn't got enough rest the last few days." She announced and stared at Hongjoong who seemed to want to ask her something.

"Do you want to say something?"

He nodded, "Y/n is not here since we came back from the stage. She went towards the stairs and I asked her but she seemed a bit lost. Where is she? Do you know about it?"

She sighed, "she is probably in the restroom, don't worry."

"Before the day of the comeback, she had a talk with you. What did she tell?" Seonghwa asked, who was now wearing a black t-shirt with just a washed face. He wasn't wearing his stage outfit anymore.

"You all will get to know about it tomorrow morning."

"What is it that you can't tell us now?" San asked her curiously.

She shook her head, "it's not like that. I can tell you but she doesn't want me to tell you. Don't get your hopes up. Just know it's nothing good." She handed over the food bag to them so that they could feed themselves inside the van while going back home. She asked the last two members to quickly change into a comfortable outfit and took your outfit to the restroom.

.

.

As soon as she handed you the outfit, you thanked her and asked her to wait outside. Changing into the comfortable soft fabrics made you sigh in relief. But you felt tears welling up in your eyes while staring down at the mic, earpiece and the stage outfit in your hand. A lot of emotions coursing through you but your mind was only focusing on the fact - this was your last stage performance.

You wiped your tears and put on a fake smile before exiting the door. the manager took the things from your hands but before you could step forward, she grabbed your wrist and looked at your face, scanning the smudged eyeshadow and liner. You were crying and she caressed your hand.

"Y/n, you are not okay with this. Please, I would suggest that you change your mind."

You shook your head before removing her hand. "Trust me. I will be okay without all of these problems." She watched your retreating figure until you took a sharp turn.

When you reached the door of the private room, it was expected to hear their loud laugh or them having weird singing competitions that could be heard from outside. But now, it's so quiet. Are they that tired? Or did they already leave for the dorm without you? That's not possible, the car was for you nine so it won't leave until nine of you have entered it.

You tightly held the handle before pushing the door open only to find them gathered around the couch but staring at you. You noticed Wooyoung holding a bag at the end of the couch.

A bag, wait, your bag. No!

You hurriedly went over to the couch to find it was your bag and the things were already scattered on it. You tried to pull the bag from his hold until Yeosang grabbed your wrist and turned you around.

"What is this?" he asked you in a demanding tone.

You licked your lips before prying his hand off from your wrist, "nothing. you don't have to know." You snatched the bag, "and why did you even touch my bag without my permission?"

"Since when are we asking each other to touch our things?" Yunho asked and got up from the chair to make his way towards you. You tried to pick up the things and place them inside the bag but Hongjoong blocked your hand and signaled Mingi to take the things away from you. The tall man finally stood in front of you, "and you better explain what all these boxes are for?"

"Nothing..."

Yunho exhaled sharply and grabbed your biceps tightly, "Y/n, what are you hiding from us? what is it that you can't tell us?"

Mingi was glancing between you and the things which he was putting inside the bag. Seonghwa stood beside the man holding you and stared at you sharply, "are these the drugs?"

"Please just shut up!" you screamed at them.

They slightly flinched at your sudden outburst but it was not noticeable by you as your teary eyes blurred your view. You put your palm over your ears and closed your eyes tightly.

"Please shut up. I can't hear any more of this. I know you don't trust me like before but please don't blame me every time. Because of me, this group is already under so much controversy and I'm really sorry for that."

You were going through a lot and having them all cornering you in the room, confined to a little space was too much.

San pushed Yunho so that he could hug your crying form, "It's okay, y/n. No one is blaming you. But why are there so many boxes containing various pills in your bag? You can tell me if those are distractions." he continuously rubbed your back.

You were crying in his hold, clutching his white t-shirt tightly. He didn't care that his fresh t-shirt was getting wet because of your tears when you were crying helplessly. It was breaking their heart to see you like this but what could they do. If you are doing something wrong then they must solve it and for that they need to talk to you but here you are not telling anything and always ignoring them since the incident happened between you and Minnie.

Realizing you were holding San tightly, you quickly removed his arms from around you and glared at him. Everyone observed your sudden change in mood and Hongjoong held your biceps to turn you towards him. At the tight hold you said harshly "let go of me."

"Y/n, enough. What's wrong with you suddenly?" His demanding tone was obvious and your glaring eyes didn't faze his expression. "Don't show me that look."

"Then leave me."

"Joong, leave her hand. We are all tired and we need to go to the dorm. We can ask her about this there." Seonghwa said calmly and placed his palm on the younger's shoulder. the latter sighed and you snatched your hand from him.

Everyone's eyes followed how disheveled you were looking while picking up your things and no one tried to stop you as you were all going to the same place after all. When you pulled the zip of your bag, Wooyoung stepped forward to offer you the food but you rejected it and went outside the room, slamming the door. They flinched at the loud noise but no one noticed your tears and emotions while exiting the private room backstage for the last time.

"I will be good without all of them." You have repeated this line to yourself a lot of times but still you felt the emotions to return back all over again.

Wiping your eyes, you raised your head only to find Minnie standing in front of you with folded hands and innocent eyes, the way she always looks at others. She was still wearing a faerie stage outfit and smiling at you. Ignoring her presence, you tried to turn around but her voice made you halt.

"Are you carrying those drugs in the bag again? So should I post it clearly that you are being spotted taking drugs?" she was smirking when you turned around.

"What are you saying?" You gripped the bag tightly when she glanced at it and chuckled. Stepping forward to you, her smirk grew wider, "it was me who posted that about you. and even if you say this to anyone, no one is going to believe you."

"It was...you." you watched her in disbelief when she lightly laughed and twirled a strand of hair between her delicate thin fingers. She pouted and blinked at you, "you shouted at me in front of them so I had to take my revenge."

"And it's just-"

"It hurts my pride." She made a disgusted face at you and bumped against your shoulder, "well, thank me for not doing something else but....I just ruined your career. Goodbye!"

You saw her walking like on a cat walk towards the corridor and smiling innocently to everyone in her way. She turned a little and smirked at you before taking a turn leaving you there in shock.

"Y/n...you're still here." You heard Jongho's voice and then saw others exiting the room but before they could ask you something, you ran towards the elevator and fortunately it just opened for the staff members queuing in front of it and you got inside with them. They were all glancing at you because of your weird behavior and you being alone with a sad look.

As soon as the ding sound indicated the arrival to the ground floor, you wasted no time and speedily walked towards the car. You got inside and sat in the far back, waiting for others to come.

.

.

After they got into the car, they found you sleeping peacefully at the back. "She is sleeping." Yunho told others and placed your head on his shoulder while adjusting in the seat beside you.

"Let her sleep. She is extremely tired." Hongjoong said and scolded Wooyoung who was about to say something loudly.

Seonghwa shook his head, "but she has to eat."

"I will feed her after we reach home. Leave her for a while. Let's not ask her anything more today." Yeosang started and closed his eyes while leaning back.

Yunho kept stroking your head so that you don't wake up and he felt you nuzzling into him and he smiled while looking down at you.

>>>><<<<

You stretched your arms, you heard their voices coming from a distance. You groaned and rubbed your eyes. Your body was aching so bad that you felt like going back to sleep again. But then you remembered your plans for this night.

You got up and stepped outside the room, their voices were coming from the living room and when some of them caught your sleepy figure entering the room they sent a smile towards you.

"Y/n come eat with me. Others have already had their dinner and I will accompany you while the rest keep doing whatever they do at the moment." Yeosang called you from the table and patted the chair beside him. You were hungry but you didn't feel like eating anything because of all the emotions you had inside.

Is my decision okay?

You shook off the feeling and walked towards the table. Some returned back to discuss the topic they were busy with and the youngest of the two joined you both at the table.

"So, as we don't have a schedule this week. How about we go on a trip somewhere?" Wooyoung suggested and Yeosang nodded before urging to start eating.

Your heart ached when you heard the joy in his voice and how they were planning for the week.

"But can we not spend time inside the dorm? I don't feel like going out." Jongho whined.

"What do you say, y/n?" Yeosang asked and you glanced at him to your side but remained silent.

He shared a glance with Wooyoung before the younger one spoke up: "Hey! Do you want to stay inside or go out? We will decide after what you say."

"I......whatever you all will agree on." You mumbled softly.

"But-"

"I said whatever you guys will agree on! It doesn't matter what I say. You all will be off on your own." You stood up from the table and took deep breaths, "have fun without me. Whatever you guys do, enjoy yourself and live a happy life."

"Y/n...if-"

"Yeo I don't want to hear anything. I'm going to sleep. Goodnight."

The moment you had to pass the couch where others were sitting but their attention was on you after you shouted at the table, Mingi grabbed your hand, "Are you okay?"

You glanced at the grip and to the others.

"You all are always meant for each other. The eight of you are soulmates and I'm just an extra character who acted as a villain in the group and destroyed your success with my scandal."

Hongjoong stood up, "Don't think like that. We can sort this out together."

"No. People already hate me for this and even if I try to claim myself innocent then all the fame I have already lost is never coming back. I'll still receive more hate. It wouldn't have happened if you guys really cared for me." You whispered the last line.

San scratched his neck and spoke up, "But you have us. Even if they hate you, we will show them that you are the best."

"But you don't have me. I can't do anything in return so it's better for me to move away from the scene so that you don't have a problem on your way to success. There's still a long way to go and I can't stop you all from that."

Seonghwa shook his head, "You are not stopping us. You keep us motivated, Y/n. You'll always be with us like the final missing piece of the puzzle."

"Sometimes there's an extra piece to distract you and confuse you and I'm that extra piece. You are already complete without me."

"Why are you thinking like this?" Mingi asked you softly.

"Because you all made me feel like this." You sighed and turned back but before stepping forward, you said loudly, "Just remember that even if I'm not with you all in this journey you all will move forward and achieve everything. You deserve a lot and on top of that, be happy. Don't let yourself fall apart because of a missing piece."

Your quick steps led you to your room and you fell on your bed. Cries getting muffled by the sheet and you pushed your face into it more. When you were saying those words earlier, you stood strong but deep down, your heart was heavy.

Time passed and you didn't realize when you fell asleep. A figure stepped inside your room, he smiled at your sleeping figure, his dimples peeking out even in the dark and his sharp eyes staring at you softly. He adjusted your body to a comfortable position and pulled you closer to him, lulling you to sleep. You mumbled something in your sleep and he smiled and patted your head. Soon, he fell asleep with you in his arms.

Now, this is the secret that nobody knows yet. You're dating all of them. Since the day of the debut you all found comfort in each other's arms. This can't be mentioned in the public media and nothing can be obvious if you are really dating one of them - let alone all of them. They're always so protective and showered you with love, making your heart warm and a wide smile visible on your face.

In many shows and interviews, you've referred to them as your strongest pillars of life and that you would be always thankful to them for being with you.

But lately it turned into a disaster after you all met her again after a year at the show when Minnie introduced herself to them and they became friends quickly. You didn't mind the friendship at first but when they started to blame you on whatever she tells them, they started pointing out her right proving you wrong in every aspect.

She really had to destroy your career---even your relationship with them.

<<<<<<>>>>>>

"You are here?" Yunho yawned while nodding his head and rubbed his eyes while making his way towards the table after greeting the leader. "I thought you're the one sleeping with her."

Yunho shook his head before gulping down the water, "No. San told me that he wanted to sleep with her." Hongjoong nodded and turned his attention back to the food on the table.

The rest of them soon started to gather around in the living room. Wooyoung saw San coming last into the wide space but all alone. He creased his brows and asked him, "Isn't she coming for breakfast?" He put down the plate on the table.

"It'll soon be lunch time." Jongho said and laughed. Yeah, it's true that they woke up so late that they have passed the morning and it's already noon but they're still preparing breakfast.

San, who was still rubbing his eyes, looked at him and then around the room, "She isn't here?"

"No..."

"When I woke up, she was not in the bed."

Hongjoong stood up and took the phone in his hand before watching everyone in confusion,

"Did she tell any of you where she is going today? Does she have something to do?"

He dialed your number but the line was dead.

Mingi skipped to your room to see if you had left any sticky note but nothing was there. Wait. Not even your things were there. Only a few items were there but the photo frames with a few boxes were missing too. He went back into the living room to inform the others about it. They were so lost and confused about the situation when suddenly the doorbell rang.

Jongho quickly opened it to be greeted by their manager whose appearance was more serious than usual. She walked inside and looked at everyone before sighing and sitting on the chair near her, "Have you checked your phones?"

When they shook their heads and told her that they had just woken up. She turned her phone screen around to take a look at it.

'Y/n, the member of Ateez is leaving the group...'

San snatched the phone from her hand and scrolled down the whole post only to find out the news was announced by their own company and there was also an apology letter from your side posted. So many things happened just in the morning.

"What is this? Where is she?" Hongjoong demanded a clarification of this situation from her but she only shook her head before brushing some strands of hair back.

"She has already left the place. These past few days, you were busy and didn't notice her preparing for this day so I was there to help her collect everything. I tried to change her decision, make her understand but she had already lost hope in this. She was so disturbed with the whole scandal and all."

"Can't we contact her?" Wooyoung asked her while tears were threatening to fall from his eyes.

"No. Your company has banned you from having any contact with a former member. I don't think it's good for your image."

"I don't care about my image. I want her back. How can she leave the group? And she didn't tell us anything about this the whole time..."

Seonghwa looked at the leader and sighed, "That's why she was saying things like that last night."

And now, they realized how they have ignored you all these past months just to believe that girl whom they had befriended and trusted so much that they doubted you on taking drugs and being jealous of others too much.

But their career can't be stopped here. They need to move forward on this journey - even if that means with a missing piece in their group.

>>>><<<<

[2 years later]

"8 makes 1 team...Hello we are Ateez."

The whole audience in the arena cheered. Ateez with wide smiles and sparkling eyes were watching their fans from overseas greeting them by shouting out their names. They felt so loved at that moment that they forgot the pain inside their heart, not getting to be loved by you anymore.

They love their fans a lot but your love was the precious one and when Yeosang realized that you were not there beside him in the choreography, tears fell from his eyes. It's already been 2 years but still everytime he cries during this step where you are no longer smiling while spinning with him in the center.

The concert went for two hours and they quickly changed into some casual wear afterwards and decided on takeout for the day.

The next day, at night they planned to stroll around the city and take in the view of the new place overseas and enjoy the place. They were not given any schedules for the vlog so they were free to roam around.

"I have seen this place just across the street that has a good variety of foods. Let's try it out." Yunho stated his search for this place and others agreed quickly.

All of them entered the big glass door of the restaurant and eyes roaming around in appreciation of the new place. The things decorating the tables, shelves and each corner with the soft melody of the overflowing music with the right amount of warmth and light were a perfect setting. Many customers turned towards them, a table with four girls recognized them but the rest just watched them curiously as they were standing awkwardly until a waiter offered them a helping hand.

They opted for a table at the very end as it was a bit away from the other tables and a bit hidden by a wooden rack.

They all settled down and the waiter waited for them to order. After a lot of complaints, whines, bickers and scolding, they had decided on the menu to be ordered finally.

For the time being, they were waiting for the food to arrive. They gossiped on a lot of stuff, few scrolling through Instagram and taking aesthetic pictures of the place but they don't forget to see any update from your private account. nothing. Jongho sighed and switched off his phone.

"Here is the food!" A cheerful voice made them look up at the person with two others trailing behind her. The girl didn't look at their faces but the eight boys from around the table were staring at her. she was joking with the girl beside her while placing all the bowls down the table. the other two left her when she turned around, "is there some-"

her voice got lost in her throat when she finally locked eyes with the ones watching her intently.

"y/n. you are here."

oh. they're having tours in this country. you're so busy these past few days that you didn't notice that they have announced the tour dates. yeah, even if you have left the group and moved away to a different country, you keep yourself updated with them.

you just can't get over them and this kills you inside.

"uh...um...congratulations on the comeback."

"Why did you leave the group? You don't even contact any of us." Hongjoong asked you from just the opposite direction from where you were standing.

"Isn't it obvious that I left the group not to keep in touch with you all?"

"But why?"

"Now your group is free from scandals and under no controversy. You all are having comebacks and your fans even forgot about me and giving you all the love you guys deserve. So what's the point of me being there." You chuckled in an unamused way.

Wooyoung stood up and suddenly hugged you catching you off guard, "you don't know how much we missed you. Everyday we thought that you'll call one of us or will show up to the front door. But you totally disappeared."

"It hurt us, baby. It hurts to not wake up to your side. It hurts not to see your smiling face and you walking around the dorm. Heck! I watched all the videos of you to hear your voice." San bit his lip to prevent himself from crying.

It hurts me too...

You just curled your fingers, wanting them to stop or you might break down in front of them. You thought after joining at your friend's restaurant that you won't ever come across your past life but who knew after two years here, you would be facing them again.

Licking your lips, you pushed Wooyoung off from you and eyed him before turning to them, "but you all became used to ignoring me then why suddenly you all are acting like this."

"No it's not like that."

"Really Mingi? Are you sure you're not the person who blamed me that for me all your hard work will be gone."

The chatters around the place increased with the entry of some more customers. Little did you know, your friend noticed the current situation you were in and she told other workers to take your place and not mind anything at the end table.

Jongho glared at Mingi but still he also knew that the news got them all shattered because it was their first accusation after the debut and they knew very well the cause of any controversy regarding a group. They all feared for their dreams to be crashing down.

But they were also worried for you. They all asked you about it but you're not the outspoken type and you remained silent and refused to talk to anyone. You distanced yourself from them when they hinted their anger towards you and it really scared you.

and that girl Minnie really played her wicked games with them at their weakest moment. "I'm sorry. Please forgive us for not being there for you. We-"

"Jongho, there's nothing to forgive or forget. I had some great memories with you all and I loved every moment but for me I don't want someone's dreams to end."

You weakly smiled at them.

"But what about you? How are you?" Seonghwa asked you while he approached you and held your hands in his, he caressed the soft skin and stared down.

"Honestly, I don't even know about myself. I'm totally living a different life. People don't recognize me after dying my hair and not wearing makeup and I don't come out often to serve the customers but unfortunately today I did and...."

"And what about the......drugs?"

"Joong-"

"It's okay Hwa. He is just obeying his rules being a leader." You bit your lip when retreating the hand from the hold, "those boxes in my bag were not drugs. Those were my anxiety pills. I used label-less boxes so that people won't know about my problems but that only led to some bigger problems."

Yunho stepped forward, "you had anxiety?" You nodded.

"What caused you this? I swear y/n tell me what happened to have this happen?" He was furious and you watched his impatient hand brushed his hair back.

"Yunho.....it's you guys. You all did this to me." After voicing out the words, you stared at them blankly.

"Us?" Yeosang asked you but also to himself.

"The ignorance. The blames and accusations adding up to the online comments on my posts were stressing me out and I had a consultation with my family psychiatrist." You sighed at the end of the sentence.

San suddenly asked you, "what about your dreams, y/n? You shared so many things with me with us. You planned a whole future with us. What about that?"

"I really wanted to spend my whole life with you all. To create so many memories together but I think those will just remain as dreams because of the rumors. Even if I want to get back. I won't because it would hamper your future and dream."

"But who spread the rumors on drugs?" Hongjoong sat down and held his head.

"It's-... it's..." you bit your lips and proceeded, "it's nothing. You don't have to worry about it now. I'm out of this whole thing and you are all free from all controversial posts."

You tried to smile but the tears falling from your eyes betrayed you.

"You are not coming back to us?" Yunho held your hand, he held it so dearly as if you were a delicate person. He didn't want to let it go but still somewhere in your eyes he saw the distance between you both.

There was no sign of love from you.

"No."

Jongho came in front of your view, "but please we need you. It's no more the same feelings without you. There's really a missing piece in our life." He gulped the lump of sadness and continued, "and, It's you, y/n."

"No you are a perfect team even without me. Eight makes a perfect team like you." You looked over all of them.

"And nine makes the perfect family." Seonghwa said in a hushed voice.

You shook your head, "then work on your teamwork and make it a family. I hope you will find a better girl for yourselves."

Wooyoung pushed aside Seonghwa and cupped your cheek and Hongjoong just stood behind him, watching you keenly.

"Please, y/n don't do this to me. I got to see you after two years and...and just for you to say leave me again?"

"Woo, people might be watching."

"I don't care."

"But I care. I have to work unlike you who will go back to your country after the tour ends. I have to stay back here and face these customers again and if somehow this scene got to the media then it'll be a new situation to handle. Please, I beg you. I don't want to be in a similar situation again."

You inhaled and continued, "and this time it won't be because of me but because of you. So stop before anything happens again."

" but you can stay with us. We can move out from the dorm and stay somewhere else. Also, you don't have to be with us for the sake of being a group member but as our girlfriend." Hongjoong said the words very precisely but you just laughed at him.

"You have lost the right to call me that way before. Don't say that word again. I hate it. I don't want to stay with any of you."

"But-"

"The food is getting cold. They worked hard in preparing this."

San held your hand when you stepped back, "At Least eat with us. Last time, you didn't even eat properly with us."

"Y/n, I miss you a lot." Yeosang looked at you with a longing feeling but you just ignored it.

I miss you all too...

And I know I shouldn't...

You took deep breaths, "I'm telling this to all of you. And it's my final wish to you so please kindly keep it. Just forget about me. You all have a long way to go to achieve success. Don't get stuck in the past. Pretend I never met you all. I was never a part of your life."

San gripped your wrist tighter.

Hongjoong said in a low voice, "this is impossible for us to do. How can we forget you? How can we forget all the memories of us?"

You stared at the grip and glanced at his face. He had changed a lot in these two years and the maturity in his voice and demeanor was visible.

He stared at you helplessly and waited for your response. You removed the grip and turned around.

"Enjoy the meal!"

How can they just eat now? They all have lost their appetite after this and the way you didn't even turn back to them for the last time left them staring at your direction until you disappeared behind the door beside the desk.

You entered the door and tears slid down your cheek and whispered to yourself, "pretend I was just a missing piece of your dream."

[I just realized that I don't know how to write 9th member aus like what did I write here. It could have been better but still I tried so appreciate me🥹]

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg

[open!]

#cultofdionysusnet #kvanity #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #poly ateez #ateez poly #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez au #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #ateez yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #ateez ot8 #poly ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x you

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

Time of the month

I mean this in no slander way, but the clones may know about sex and etc, but they definitely are dumb ass hell to a period lmfao. They are clones after not really like the other demons too lmfao

Warnings: fem!reader, fluff & smut, periods, oral (reader receiving), hunger impulses, humor

Aizetsu

Aizetsu could tell someone wasn't right with you for the past few days. He explained that a demon is able to sense the hormone changes in a human, but he couldn't really make out what it is. When Aizetsu smelled blood from you, he almost panicked. "Y/n, where are you hurt?" He asked, holding your face looking around your neck and chest.

You giggled. "I'm not hurt. Why are you assuming that?" You asked "I smell blood from you" Aizetsu says almost crying and looking around your body "don't hide your pain from me it makes me sad when you do" Aizetsu kept checking until he squats down to your lower half and smelled where the blood was coming from.

You took a step back a bit nervously. "Aizetsu... I'm just on my period. Do you not know what that means?" You asked, and he just shook his head, no in response. From that day, you had to explain to Aizetsu what a period is and how it's very common for women to have one and anyone with a uterus, and he was able to understand.

You couldn't stop Aizetsu hunger when your period came. "Y/n, I'm so hungry. Please let me eat, I need to. I can't resist it anymore. " Aizetsu begs you every time, drool falling from his chin from his hunger. Aizetsu goes down on you, having his tongue lap up at the blood flowing out of you having his fill. Most of the time, Aizetsu does it to satisfy his hunger but will get carried away and end up over stimulating you.

"A-Aizetsu you said you were done" you mewl and your back arches when you feel him suck on your clit. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he moans on your pussy "forgive me" he said between licks not stopping until he's tasting your cum mixed with your blood.

Aizetsu takes notice that when you're on your period, you get more emotional and clingy to him. "Y/n, I have to go see "that man." I promise I'll come back," he said, but you just held his hand tighter. "Don't leave Aizetsu. I'll miss you, " you said and began crying, but that only made Aizetsu cry and even harder at that. "Your poor thing. You can't live with out my for more than a second, can you? " he said.

"What the fuck!? I just don't want my boyfriend leaving me" you sob "so you can live without me!?" Aizetsu asked only making him sob harder having you both because an emotional mess.

Sekido

The first time Sekido realized what a period was after you explained it to him, he literally called it stupid. He couldn't understand how the uterus could cause a person so much pain all because they aren't pregnant each month. "If it's because you're not pregnant, why don't I just get you pregnant, you fool?" He said, being very serious, and you tried not to laugh since it wouldn't really change anything.

Sekido would get mad when your period could affect your whole body. "What do you mean I can't lay my head on your chest!? You said it was just your stomach hurting you," Sekido said, sounding confused but somehow angry as well.

"Sekido, when I get my period, a lot of things happen to my body, including my boobs... they are really tender and sore right now, " you explained, but that only angered Sekido even more. "Please don't be mad," you say with tears instantly coming out of your eyes. "Why are you crying!?" He raised his voice. "Don't yell at me either!" You sob in your hands, having Sekido stand there dumb founded and feeling somewhat bad for making you cry.

Sekido had to take many months to understand you on your period and when not to say certain things. Even so, he couldn't hide his hunger when you're around on your period. "Stop squirming. The more you do, the less blood that comes out and I'm fucking hungry" he said, holding your legs open but reminds himself you are in pain and sure to have his hand on your stomach, rubbing it and giving your clit attention with his tounge to give you pleasure.

Sekido doesn't get carried away with getting his fill but there will be those days where he'll want to fuck you on your period and that's the softest sex you'll ever get from him.

Karaku

"A period? Do I get one? My dick does have a hole, so maybe i can have one..." He'll ask seriously after you explained to him why you bleed every month from your vagina. Karaku couldn't believe this was something you could do all because you weren't pregnant, and surprisingly, he made sure to take a mental note of how he should help you when this time comes around.

Karaku did realize how needy you'd get for him on your period. He'd use this opportunity to get his fill, lapping up the blood from your pussy but take his sweet time but making sure to pleasure you in the process, moaning from how good you tasted both for his hunger and your arousal.

"You're still in pain, aren't you?" Karaku rubs your stomach and gives it soft kisses. "Don't worry. I'll make the pain go away," he smirks. Karaku is able to go up to many rounds with you, that's just the stamina of a demon but he has to realize on a normal day you can only do so many but on months like this? Oh he loves how you can take his cock for more then an hour.

Karaku notices how you're much more needy for words of affirmation during this month. "y/n, you're beautiful. I love you. " he'll hold your face, squish your cheeks together, and even pet your head. "Are you still in pain?" he'll say, rubbing your back and sometimes giving you butt rubs as you lay on his chest. "It'll end soon. You'll be fine"

Urogi

"Wow! Are these pads? Look how easily they break!" He said, ripping up at least 3 of your pads with his sharp talons. You screamed at him so loud that day, saying you need them to the point where Urogi doesn't dare mess with them again.

Urogi makes fun of you for being in your period. He'll often compare you to Sekido with how angry you get. "Am I bothering you? Why aren't you talking to me? Hello, hello hello" Urogi said, knowing he's being annoying and even using his talon to poke you in a painful way to annoying you "fuck off! Stop that you annoying bird!" You yell "ok ms.sekido, " Urogi said.

You'd never have a problem with Urogi going down on you when it's that month for you since it was normal for a demon to have hunger impulses when they smell blood from a human but you never wanted to give Urogi the satisfaction of how good his tounge felt.

You can tell when Urogi has had his fill but will want to keep playing with you. You'll turn your head with a pout, not looking at his big yellow eyes staring at you. "What? Don't wanna look at me? Is it because I'm a mess with your blood" he mocks you and presses his tounge flat on your clit.

"So much more sensitive then usual" Urogi grabs your thighs spreading them open keeps licking at your clit and feel your legs trembling in his grip. "Oh? Does it feel good? Your legs are shaking, " he said "C'mon tell me how good it feels, " he stops, looking up at you, waiting for an answer

"Fuck... it feels good, keep going" you grab his hair pushing his head closer to your thobbing clit. "Don't worry, I'll have you cumming on my tounge in no time~"

#demon slayer smut #kny smut #aizetsu x reader #sekido x reader #karaku x reader #urogi x reader #karaku smut #urogi smut #aizetsu smut #sekido smut

[netherfeildren]

Honey, Stomach, Mine ; 2. More Intelligent Than a Face

Series Masterlist ; Part 1. ; Part 3.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics; Dystopian Society; Outbreak not Cordyceps AU; Angst & Yearning™️; Slow Burn; Sexual Inexperience; Cock Riding; Size Difference; Size Kink; Sex Ed for Omega’s 101; Power Dynamics; Creampie; Discussions of Heats and Knots and Slick, Oh My!; Virginity; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Young and Needy Omega; Possessive Behavior; Age Gap

A/N: FYI I do mention that she has small breasts in this one only because I usually write big boobs and thought it was time for some itty bitty titty committee representation. 

Word Count: 13.9K

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2. More Intelligent Than a Face

Existence is a strange thing, a needful thing. Something to be sated, filled, satisfied, this ordeal of being a living, breathing person. And to be an unusual sort of person, someone with needs extra to what the regular sort would require, doubly strange. 

You had always thought, in different ways, that the mating program, although a choice thief, a freedom thief, was also benevolent in its control in some ways. After all, it gave those of you who were of the not usual sort, alphas and omegas, that such thing that you needed so badly. 

Each other. 

A bad, terrible, devastating thing that in turn gives you something necessary, life changing, life fulfilling, even, perhaps. 

When your aunt had died and you’d been taken away and then put away and then shut away for what seemed would be forever, it had not, at first, in your child’s mind, seemed so terrible. But with the years, that existence you bore that needed, it began to hurt. It eventually became a very terrible thing that in turn, had taken away your ability to recognize yourself, as well. The reality that you’d been caged because of what you were, perhaps not particularly who, but certainly, what, was, at first, difficult to see. And then, when you did see it, even more difficult to look at. 

A thing caged because of what it is. And again, existence is a strange and needful thing. Caged because of what you exist as; caged because of what you need because of what you are. Caged because they can give you what will sate you. 

You open your eyes slowly, the bright, waning golden light of dusk shooting over the edge of the end of the world; bleeding pinks and violets feeding the fire. And he’s there, in a deeply set arm chair pulled up by the hearth, staring into the flames, and you realize, like you’d never truly considered before, that the cage was in part also his fault. That in ways, you’d been put away also because of what he is. You wonder if this should make you angry, resentful. If it should mean you should not want to be here, langoring so comfortably in his home that he’d brought you to. This man who you do not know, who does not so much even look like he wants to know you. In ways, your caging is his fault. And certainly, concretely, the prolonging of that caging was entirely of his doing. So why is there no resentment?

Once, one of the other omegas had said that they were brainwashing all of you. Preparing you, ripening you for slaughter. He’d come in later than the rest of you, when he was more grown, more mature, when he’d seen more things in his before life. He had lots of opinions, lots of thoughts, said that your before life, those ten years of living with your aunt, of only being a child like all the rest of them and not an omega, did not count. He said you’d been too young to understand all you’d lost. A boy named Leo. He was kind, but he was angry. And his anger frightened you. It was something you did know, in the sense that you could recognize it, for you’d seen anger before, but you could not understand it. For some reason, maybe you were built wrongly, and Leo was right, and you should have been angry like him, but you could never find it within yourself to muster it. Maybe there was nothing wrong about it. Maybe everyone was simply built and made and felt differently and that was fine too. But you knew that he was wrong on some accounts, particularly, that your before life had counted, that your aunt, who you remembered with so much love, had counted. And most of all, what he was most painfully wrong about, was that you did, and deeply, understand all you had lost. 

After all, you could only see the sky for one hour a day, every other day, now, and that one hour made your understanding of everything around you, everything happening to you, keen and painful and humiliating in a very clear way. 

The last rays of the sun wash Joel in vibrant orange reds now. A slash of glowing vermillion across his face, something almost violent about the streak of light, something possessive, and you focus your eyes intently on the sight of his face. This man, this alpha, who for all intents and purposes would or could own you as declared by the government or nature or even Leo and all he’d said would happen once you’d been claimed. 

But there was one last thing he’d been wrong about, that young, angry boy, and what you felt was the greatest chasm between the way the two of you had existed within your new designations, which was that, at one very recent point in Leo’s memory, he had belonged to someone, to somewhere. He’d had a place and a home and a family, and he had belonged, and you had never had that. Your aunt, despite her love for you, had been too old and tired to want you, truly want you. You had never been wanted in any soft, true way by anyone before. And looking at him now, you don’t think Joel could ever be capable of wanting anything in a soft way, but you do think he could want something in a true way, and you’re certain that could be more than enough for you. 

“Why didn’t you come for me?” Your voice, scratchy and small from sleep, floating away from you towards him. He jerks, the twitching returned, head snapping towards you, eyes wide, moving forward in his seat as if he’d spring out of it and towards you without thought. His scent seems to be heightened somehow now. As if your sleep had awakened your senses in new, keener ways. You can feel him tickling the back of your throat, threading his way through your hair, beneath your clothes, between your legs. 

“Are you hungry?” He asks, ignoring your question. “When was the last time you ate? You need to eat.” And again that frown, too many fast words. 

“Why didn't you come for me?” You press. “They told me you didn’t know if you wanted to come, that you wouldn't answer. I want to know why.”

He sighs a heavy, heaving thing, falling back in the chair, and turns back to the fire, and you want to whine and cry until he puts his attention back on you. You feel so… so– you don’t know. Little, unmade, with a need to be big, to grow and grow and grow so that all the things you feel and want might fit inside of you, so that he might fit inside of you. You feel hungry as if your gums ache and sting with a desire you’ve never tasted before. But also, and despite all of these conflicting, churning things, you also feel so inexplicably at ease. He’s just there, and you are just here, and you’ll make him answer, you know you have it in you to make him do the things you want, and you can’t say how, you don’t know how, but you understand that you do. 

There’s power in that – even as you are, all you are not, you can see it – the ability something small possesses to make something big move, do, be. There’s power in that. 

You whine low in your throat, and he turns back to you, something dark and tumultuous in his eyes, brow crooked sternly, but he opens his mouth. “I was going to leave you there,” he says, and you immediately wish he’d shut it. Never mind, you want to tell him, you say all the wrong things.  

“But why? I was waiting for you.” Whine, whine, whine.

“I didn’t want this. I never have.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t want me?” You ask again, just to be absolutely certain you’re understanding that you’ve once again found yourself in a place where you are not wanted for, or despite of, the thing that you are. The logistics, the intricacies of it don’t seem to matter as much anymore, after everything, the before life, the not life, all that matters now is the yes or no. 

But he goes silent again, attention back toward the fire, the sun set, no more glowing vermillion slash, very little hope now too. 

He ignores your question again. “Tell me about the place they kept you,” he says instead. 

“There’s nothing to tell.” You want to cry now, for the first time, besides the tears of initial happiness when he’d finally walked into your white box, you want to cry. You dig stubby nails into the round of your knee, hard as you can, trying to make it hurt and distract. “It was very calm and very quiet.”

“Did you have friends?” He won’t turn back to look at you, and it makes you feel very lacking. Very much like the nothing they tried to make you feel you were before. 

“No. They wouldn’t let us.”

“They wouldn’t let you have friends?”

“No. They said it would agitate us – too much socialization. Really, they just didn’t want us realizing, becoming angry and aware”

This makes him turn, makes you feel, within yourself, the anger you’re telling him of, like oh, now, when I’ve been shocking and honest, you look at me – after I waited all that time for you. There is no resentment about the cage, only for the waiting. You should stick your tongue out at him, make him an ugly face, turn over and go back to sleep and ignore him the way he’d ignore you. But no, you think, let him see that you do understand, and you do know some things, that you are angry, and Leo was right.

“What did you do then?” He asks. 

“I read. I learned about myself, about you. About what we are.”

His gaze is so intense now, a ricochet, a scream, something very persistently sad. “And what are we?”

“People just like all the rest of them. But with more necessity.”

“How do you mean?”

You tip your head side to side, bright fire eyed gaze to bright fire eyed gaze. Your cheeks feel molten, sweltering, sweat at your nape, the fire in the hearth so bright, but not as bright as you; your belly glows. This is what you are, this is what you’d been made into. “There is so much necessity in existing, don’t you think?”

He tips his chin, he doesn’t understand. 

“We need so many things. We require so much to be alive, to be what we are, to be satisfied and content.”

“Do we?”

“The things we are, yes. I think so.”

“You don’t seem like you spent years in that place,” he says, voice slow, molasses in the notes. There’s something hypnotized slumbering in him that forces something satisfied to swell within you. Your belly glows. 

“I had a before life. People forget that.”

“I read in your file — you lived with an aunt.”

You wait for the: only for ten years, but the diminishing does not come. “Yes. She was kind, and I remember all of it, even if the rest of the world forgets it happened.”

“Did they ever mistreat you? At the facility–”

“No. Never. There was nothing.” You’re the one to turn away now. The sun has entirely gone away, a single glowing sliver just at the drop off of the end of the world. You stick your hand out straight ahead of you, fingertip following that line of fading light through air and space and sea. 

He watches you unblinkingly, and asks, “What do you mean?” The far off light glows through your skin, through your fingernail; he follows the path of your hand.

You can pretend in your mind that you feel the warmth of it against your fingertip, that it scorches the way it glows, heats the length of your limb, feeds the same glow in your belly, but there’s no more possessive streak of light to wrap around you; now, the heat only lives within you. This is what you are, this is what they said would happen, and now it’s finally happening. You let your arm fall back to your lap, limp, and turn to look at him again. He looks so angry, and you feel so incredibly sad for him. This cold perch, this cage that is not white like your box, but dark and struck right on the edge of peril, this place he chose to exile himself to. They were honest, in the things they'd told you all, the truth of the way alphas exist out in the world. Lonely and ostracized and feared, brainwashed to your reality maybe, sure, the way Leo claimed. But in certain things, they’d been honest, and you’re glad for it, that you have the ability to understand him now from this vantage point. The reality of how he exists, the reason for that look in his eyes, it all makes sense to you. 

“I suppose that can be a kind of bad thing… a mistreatment. Making nothing of us, of our lives, taking the whole world away until someone chooses to come and give it back to us.”

He flinches, the look shutters, clicks and flashes, a camera capturing the truth of what the two of you have already done to each other without even really knowing one another at all. “I’m sorry I waited. I’m sorry I took so long.” The words cost him something the way all truths cost something. “That I wasn’t there for you as soon as I should have been.”

“Why weren’t you?” You ask, although you know. 

“I couldn’t. I can’t. I’m not– I’m not right. I’m not well.” And this costs him more than the rest, you can see. The thump, thump, beat of his heart in his throat. You should tell him to stop, mercy is power, but you think, feel, that this pound of flesh you’re demanding via his truths is what you’re owed for your life and a year of waiting. And anyways, you’ll pay your own pound of flesh in kind eventually, and it’ll cost, even if it’s freely given, it’ll still cost. Everything is equal here, it’s only that it takes a certain kind of eye to realize the truth of that. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Everything, what I am, the whole thing of it and this. It’s all wrong.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t know.” And he looks suddenly angry, aged, wearing all his years and all his very obvious loneliness, teeth bared but on the verge of falling out.

“No…” you say slowly, thinking, rationalizing, a rolodex of truths in your mind. What you are, what I am, what we all are and all the honesties that compromise us. “I don’t, but I understand anyway. They make you all nothing, as well, don’t they? They take it all away, all nothing until you have one of us. It’s a terrible way to live.” And you don’t ask him, it’s not a question, only a very obvious thing. 

Your words upset him, put him right at the mouth of madness, all those shakes and jitters returned, but you only lay your head back down on the soft pillow he’d tucked beneath you, hands folded undercheek to wait for the explosion that does not come. There’s something in you that wants to see him angry, angry like Leo, like the boy who’d said you didn't have to be what they told you to be, that reminded you that you could choose for yourself. One of the few things you’d agreed on, despite and inspite of the friendship that they would not let you have but that would have blossomed anyways if they’d given you the time. They wanted to make you nothing, but you didn’t want to be nothing. You wanted very much to be alive and to belong. 

You realize, watching Joel muzzle his nature before your very eyes, wondering if the truth of him would have him springing up out of the chair to smother you with his weight and temper you with his knot, subdued with his teeth sunken into the gland at the back of your neck, that you want to see him angry. You realize that you want to see him break, that you want to hear that truth no matter what it costs the either of you. You want to see him honest. 

He struggles, a dog fight right before your eyes, but when he wins, it changes the game, turns the truth chimeral. Makes you see him in a different way, and all at the same time, makes you aware and even more comfortable than you’d already been. You’re safe here. He is safe. Most importantly, you want to be here. 

“Let me show you your room,” he says after a deep breath. 

“My room?” A little seedling of dread and sadness and disappointment. 

He shows you to a bedroom hued in soft blues. The sea when it is gentle, the sky when it’s joyous. Everything comfortable, nothing white, like he’d known already. 

He stands awkwardly at the mouth of the entry, as if scared to step foot into this serene pool of azure and marr it’s peace. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as you move around, no shoes, no socks, slowly running your fingers over all the soft surfaces, sweaty little toes sunken into the deep pile of the rug underfoot. 

“I wanted you to have somewhere to adjust– where you’d have privacy. I’m sure this– that I– that it’s all a shock…” he stutters.

One of his boots inches forward, snaps back, like he wants to follow, like he needs to follow, like nature is right here in the room with the two of you, but he wins that dog fight again, holds back. Frustrating. 

“I’m not shocked. But I– I won’t stay with you?”

“No,” he says with a finality that makes that seedling bloom in full. “I also got you clothes. And– and soft things. I know your sort–”

You give a soft huff of air through your nose, my sort… our sort.

“Like things like that. And I also… I also put some of my own things in the drawers,” he nods towards a dark mahogany dresser shoved up against the wall; shy and boyish and hesitant all wrapped into a package that would seem to be none of those things. “They say that helps.”

“Okay… thank you.” 

“Went into town to get it,” he says of the robin's eggshell blue duvet, a more dove gray blue wash for the silk soft sheets beneath. It’s all beautiful and delicate and lace trimmed and looking at him, huge and rough and something like a lonely mountain, you can’t believe he’d chosen this for you. “Lady at the store said you’d like it when I picked it out.” And that makes satisfaction smother the seedling, yes, he’d chosen it for you. A good sign. 

“You went into town to get me things?”

“I told you I want you to be comfortable while you’re here.” Something about the sentence tickles your mind, but then you’re lowering yourself onto the cloud soft bed, cool silk and cotton beneath your skin, sliding against his clothes, your belly glows bright. You’re full of distractions and truth. “There’re a couple of young women that live down aways.” Young women? You perk up at the thought. Friends? “Ellie and Dina. Two young alphas, and they’re good people. I’ll take you down to meet them soon, when you’re ready.”

“Two alphas?”

“They’re a couple.”

“Like– like in love?”

He hovers at the edge of the rug with that strange look in his eyes again, the one from before – I’m only an omega, you don’t have to be afraid of me – and a palpable desperation to cross the border you don’t think he’s even aware he’s letting you in on, but that you can see nonetheless. Two fingers tucked into the line of his belt, twisted there as if grasping for restraint. 

“Yeah, they’re together.”

“I didn’t know alphas could do that… that they’d let you.”

“Reckon it’s why they came all the way out here, to be honest, for freedom. But ‘course they can – be together, that is. We can do what we please, despite what they’d have us believe.” And Leo’s words ring in your mind again. Perhaps everyone sees the truth of what you are except for you. The seedling grows vines, suffocates. All the hope you’d thought would live here seems to have never even existed at all. You feel, for the first time, heavy with all the things you do not know, all the things you lack, all the inexperience and naivety like ignorance thick and cloying in your blood. “From what I understand, Dina presented late, after they’d already gotten together. And by that time it was a done deal, they were in love, no going back. And anyway, they make it work, make it look easy as nothin’, to be frank.” He runs a big hand over the back of his skull, and the way he lifts his arm has the thick of his bicep bunching, fat ball of muscle just there for your teeth to sink into. You shift restlessly on the bed. 

“Easy as nothin’,” you say slowly, trying to imitate the dip and pitch of his drawl. Your fingertip follows the line of stitching in the duvet, petting at the seams holding it together. “Is that how we’ll be too?” And although you mean the words, intend the question, you’re suddenly awash with shy regret for asking, even though you can’t say exactly why. Probably for the look on his face, which goes immediately dark and serious, and even yet, you persist. “Will it be easy for us too?” And you’re sure your voice must sound like you’re begging. 

“No. It won’t. It won’t be like that between us. You’ll stay here as long as it takes for you to acclimatize to being out of that place,” that place, he says like a curse, and it makes you angry, “To bein’ out in the world, and then we’ll find somewhere for you. Somewhere that’s safe and comfortable where you’ll be able to make your own life.”

“I don’t– I don’t understand,” you tell him, but it’s a lie. You do understand, you see, and very clearly, that all you’d waited for during your life, the before, the not life, the extra year, it had all been in vain, for nothing. It would not be given to you here. 

“What don’t you understand?” And his tone is cruel and spitting, making you flinch. “I’m sending you away soon. This is what I’m saying.”

“But I don’t– No–” You’d waited so long. He’s being so mean, and you tell him so. 

“Yes. You need to be with people your own age. You need to see the world and grow up,” and what a horrible thing to say, you think – to grow up. As if it were not a thing you’d been forced to do already all on your own, without anyone to help you.

“Well then what do you care about what I need? You make no sense!” And you bare your teeth at him. “If you don’t want me–” 

But he cuts you off, broad palm held up in a staying gesture, and it’s so incongruous with all the rest of it, that you want to laugh in his face. “Didn’t say I don’t want’cha.” And that frown again, he makes no sense, the tip of his boot makes landfall in the high piled rug, halfway in, hypnotized and compelled in full. You settle on the bed and feel very calm despite the too fast beat of the thing that moves and lives within you, despite your anger and confusion. 

And through the beat and the heat and the sweat on your neck, despite the shyness you’ve forgotten is shyness right at this moment, but that you’re sure will return later because this is what you are and this is what you were made for: him. You ask, “Then are you going to knot me now?” Because if he’s going to send you away, then surely he’ll give you that before you go, surely he’ll still want that from you. 

He splutters, going all red in the face as if the notion of a young omega asking the experienced alpha she’s been presented with to do that most basic thing his nature demands, is something out of the ordinary. “What? No– no.” But despite his supposed refusal, he takes two steps forward towards you. Venturing further onto the soft piled rug, leaving large crushing footprints in his wake. 

“Later then?” You ask very pragmatically.

“No. Absolutely not. There will be no knotting.”

You shake your head at him, small frown between your brows, but still feeling calm despite the tragedy. Forcing that horrible seedling down into submission, the vines smothering all your hope. “But what do you mean?” And you feel like a child. 

“I’m not going to fuck you. We aren’t doin’ any of that. You’re too– you’re too young, practically a girl.” A child. He has an accent that thickens with agitation, the ends of his words sluicing off between his tongue and teeth and anger while he hurts you.

“You don’t want me,” you say, and it isn’t a question anymore, only an obvious thing.

His eyes go very dark, and you want to turn away, look back at the edge of the world and the bright glow of the sun being swallowed by it. “I don’t want that.” And the way he spits the words hurts, making you a thing impossible to desire.  

“You don’t want me,” again, repeated, so the both of you can bask in the truth of it. 

But it snaps something in the room, or in him, or amidst the honesty being brought out here and now. He takes two ground-eating steps forward to loom over you aggressively, forcing you to fall back on your elbows, looking up at him wide eyed but still inexplicably not afraid, only a greater thing than what can be called merely disappointed. And yet, not disappointed enough to not notice the way one of his knees presses against the inside of one of yours. “I should get to have a fucking choice too, shouldn’t I? Like you, locked away in that horrible place–”

“It wasn’t horrible,” you try and say, but you don’t think he hears.

“The way you had all your choices and freedoms stripped. Shouldn’t I also be allowed to have one single goddamn thing?” Where else would I have gone if not there? “A choice – to say, no, stop, I don’t want this.” He’s so angry, and it is all suddenly so clear, and he finally grabs you, pulling you up by the bend of your elbow, the small joint almost crushed in his massive fist to pull you halfway up off the bed and towards him, getting in your face with all his anger. 

Leo’s voice again, you don’t have to be what they tell you to be, you can choose for yourself. This is what Joel wants too. 

“You can’t end up stuck out here at the end of the world with some washed up old alpha who can’t give you a quarter of what you need and deserve. I won’t let you. I won’t,” he snarls.

But despite your greenness, your naivety or your ignorance or your youth, you think: how dare he? “And what about what I want? What about my choices? Or are you going to be just like all the rest of them? Like the whole world telling me I’m too insignificant and too stupid to decide for myself? Just locked away in another cage–” You spit at him, trying to claw and shove at him, stubby nails digging at the sun pebbled skin of his throat, yanking at his too long hair and patchy beard, inadvertently pulling yourself closer to him. He grunts, struggling to take you in hand, slippery thing you can make yourself into when you really want, and you, trying your mightiest to hurt him any way you can as he’s already decided he’s going to hurt you with his rejection. “Is that what you are? Just like all the rest of them?” You cry amidst your struggle, choked with tears and being too little to be effective but too big for your own skin. 

You shove at his jaw, trying to scratch at his cheek, but he grips you full around either arm, locking you in place and gives you a swift but measured jerk, jostling you into submission, trapping your hands bent as they are up by his neck so that one small palm is sliding to the back of his nape, over the gland behind his ear, at that soft vulnerable hollow, and coming to rest at the one in back, at the base of his neck beneath his collar. Both of you go still as stone, frozen by the truth of what you both are and how inescapable it all is, reality held in the palm of your hand.

Obvious: a designation is not a thing you can ever hide. Alphas and omegas wear it on their bodies like markers. Glands scattered at different places: behind the ears, at the base of the neck, inside the wrists and ankles; vulnerabilities that when acknowledged, bitten, seal a mating bond. Places that if handled properly, turn you into nothing but what you are at your basest nature. And you can’t help yourself – at the feel the spongy patch of skin, slightly raised and slightly rougher than the rest of him, a place that when in rut or in heat, would become, will become, extra sensitive, extra swollen, extra ripe – when you slowly slide your fingers against it, feeling the texture of it, the way it’s even hotter than the already sweltering rest of him. 

He growls low and rumbling in his chest, that sound again, and he’s so angry, it’s painted all over his face in shades of defiance; coming off of him like radiation, angry at you, angry at the truth of what you both are, angry at himself and the world and all of it, but he pulls you closer anyways, tugging your forward by his grip on your arms which is starting to mimic the ache you’re suffering at that place between your legs you long to show him, pulling you in so that the tips of your breasts, covered beneath his thick sweater and the too thin, soft bra they gave all the omegas who needed them, brush against the thick of his chest, pulling a soft breath of a moan from your tongue.

“You’re being so mean to me,” you whisper. “And I don’t deserve it. And I waited so long for you and you never came for me, and now this is how you’re treating me,” you say with a hiccup and a tear, and you feel little and big and that place that calls for him pulses and hurts and leaks. He’s so mean and you’re so sad and you want him and you can’t understand why he’s being this way when you were made for him and he for you, and if nothing else was right in this world, then this was the thing that was supposed to be. 

His eyes shift quickly back and forth between both of yours, that frown, mouth turned down, his mustache that connects to the patchiness of his beard showing how contrary he finds you. You frown back at him, trying to pull away, whining when he tightens, pulls you closer, right up to his face as if he needs to inspect you even more closely. Your toes aren’t touching the rug anymore, scraping against the thick round of his boots, and you won’t have it. You’ll give him a piece of your mind, you’ll show him. “You think that because I’m little and young and easily bruised that I’m not in control.” It’s not a question. If you could grow fangs, you would. If you could rip him to shreds, you would. “That I can’t control you. But I made you come for me, didn’t I?” Now you laugh at him, now you show him. “I knew if I wrote to you, you’d come, and you did. I made you come. I made you.” And saying it feels like victory, so you don’t care that it makes his face crack, you don’t care that he pushes away from you, letting you fall back onto the bed with a limp bounce, storming out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him. You don’t give a thistle for choices. You want to be selfish, you want to be alive, you want to see the sky. You have the sea now, and you want to be this thing you are because this is already you, this is what you were made into, and you have no choice but to bask in it, and you won’t bend to him or give it up for him only because he can’t accept the same of himself, only because he’s still trapped in his own white box. 

-

He knows, as soon as you make whatever stupid decision it is that you’re making, that something’s off. A shift in the air in the house, his heart beating funny, his scent changing because his body knows you’re not in its immediate vicinity anymore, something that tells him off, off, off, be vigilant, she needs you so much, you can’t fail again. He reminds himself of all the decisions he’s already made, of what he knows he wants and does not want, of what he is and what he is not. 

After he’d stormed out of your room – I made you – he’d retreated to hide in his own bedroom, to the other big chair by the fireplace in here, cowering like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, forcing himself to listen to you cry for hours, the whine and whimper of an omega in need of something he was made to give, and yet will not. As if a little thing like you could make him do anything. Him. He grits his teeth, chews on his own tongue, digs his fingers into the arms of the chair to force himself to remain seated in place, to not return to you, to not give you all the things he knows you need and want to be soothed by. 

He can smell your scent changing already, reacting to him, reducing him to nothing, entirely effective in your conquering. And he’d stupidly thought that perhaps the heat, and the rut that it would yield, would wait, give him a moment of reprieve or compassion before it came for him. A moment to think. He thought he’d have more time, a chance to escape the thing he so desperately wants but cannot and will not let himself have, refuses to give in to. His body stirs and smolders, and like he’d done for eleven years and then one, he ignores it. He ignores the truth of who and what he really is. 

He sits in his chair, head propped up against the back, and listens to your cries and mewls ebb and quiet until finally, he thinks you might have sobbed yourself to sleep. He doesn’t want to hurt you, he doesn’t mean to hurt you. It’s the absolute last thing he could ever, ever want. Everything, not only in his nature, but in his character, in the things that make him up as a man who’d want a woman like you, is clamoring within him to go to you, to give you what you want, to sooth you with his voice and his scent and his cock. To fuck you into your heat until you’re soft and slick and fevered enough to take his knot, to let him breed you, to let him mate you. His cock stirs and thickens beneath the rough confines of his jeans, that thicket of skin at the base where his knot waits in ready for you, simmering with heat and tightness. He digs his knuckles into his temple until it hurts. 

You don’t want me… Of course he fucking wants you. He’d have taken your cunt for himself right there in that white box room, on your rickety little iron cot for all the surrounding omegas and witless betas to hear without giving a single shit what anyone said or thought if he had any sort of right or will or choice. If he had anything more to give you. And then watching you go right to sleep when he’d brought you into his home, the sight of you feeling so immediately safe and content, ready to nest amongst his things and his scent – that feeling of having within himself the things that he needs to be what he is – indescribable. 

Pretty little omega – and truly, you’re so pretty. All he’d never let himself imagine or desire or hope for. He��s too old, past his prime and forgotten by the world, but he’s still a man with a working cock, still an alpha, even if only in the simplest of ways. Of course he wants you. 

He lets himself languish miserably before the fire, eyes going hazy with exhaustion, the comedown of adrenaline, the presence of warm omega all around him, the taste of your pre-heat scent coating his tongue and throat. He pulls his socks off and lets the heat of the fire warm his feet and thinks he should’ve given you his room instead, let you sleep in his bed, near the fireplace, between his sheets and amongst his scent. He can sleep out in the dirt for all he matters as long as you’re comfortable. And the rational part of his brain wants to laugh at the thought, sitting here alone, realizing that despite his battling, his nature will always win out in the end, that all this fight really means shit. His cock gives a faint throb, his deflated knot rhythmically pulsing in time with his heart, ready to swell and claim what everyone including nature, but excluding Joel, has said belongs to him. Of course he wants you. And if he’s honest, or a fucking liar, he can’t really say which, all his truths and deceptions have become so muddled within his own mind, his past and his present and this future he’s never thought he wanted or had a right to, the year of waiting was more a form of self punishment, restraint as proof of fear, than anything to do with you. 

Anger, yes, that everything had been decided for him for so long. That he isn’t even allowed to decide what he is, what he wants. But fear, more than anything, that interminable curse of failure he’s so haunted by and so afraid of. How could nature ever look at him and think him strong enough to take on the role of caretaker, protector, alpha – whatever it is that you need him to be, the whole world in the eye of a young and untried omega – when he can hardly stand the sight of his own face in the mirror? There’s nothing but tragedy setting the stage the two of you stand posed on. 

Finally, your cries fade to soft hiccups, and then a peculiar silence he doesn't trust. He waits, ears peeled, his head turned slightly towards the cracked open door of his bedroom, sensing the shift in scent and after a few beats of too loud silence, a thud and a huff, the music of a little mind thinking too loudly and mischievously for its own good. Even the wind seems to blow differently as if it knows you’re scampering about amidst it now, vulnerable to its lashings, and he’s shooting up out of his chair and charging through the house. By the door, he realizes his boots are gone, stolen from where he’d dropped them discarded after he’d left you in your room to cry your salt tears. He forgoes a coat and his flannel, braving the icy wind in nothing but his white undershirt, stepping silent but no less frantic out onto the deck. The truck is dark and quiet, still in its usual spot, and this quells his fear minutely. It occurs to him that you likely don’t even know how to drive. 

But when he comes around the western facing corner of the house, it’s worse than he could’ve imagined, and the scar slashed across his right temple suddenly zings like copper, burns like fire at the sight of you. You are, for some inexplicable reason, crawling on all fours, towards the edge of the cliffside. And he’s frozen solid for a second, shocked and terrified, and then moving forward like lightning, tripping over his own two feet and breath before he realizes you’re right at the very edge now, and he needs to move very fucking carefully to ensure he doesnt send you spilling in fright over the edge. 

He alters his movements, continues forward slowly, his bare feet over the freezing ground and sharp bric-a-brac of the forest floor, the slabs of stone turning to ice as he nears the edge, and he watches the uncoordinated wallop of your movements, banging your knee with a small yelp, as you crawl like a slow and drunken spider in his too big clothes, dragging his too big boots around your ankles, to the very edge of the cliff side, slowly lowering yourself to plop down with your head and arms hanging over the edge. 

He pauses about ten feet away from you and waits for your next move, but you lie still, quarter part of you draped over the edge of the cliff, and he realizes that you’re watching the water far below crash against the rocks. 

“Sweetheart,” he calls slow and gentle, crouching down low so that his voice travels along the ground where you lay. “Sweetheart, what’re you doin’?” You start, turning back towards him, one palm coming to the edge of the rock to shove yourself up to peer back at him, rock pebble spraying out over the void with your movement, and his heart and stomach lurch to his throat, almost gagging at the terror. Your eyes are hazy and bright, and he recognizes the beginnings of the fever, it’s tendrils wrapping themselves around you, making you a little confused, a lot needy, and he’s so fucking stupid, he should’ve never left you alone. But he hadn’t thought it’d come on this fast, that you’d affect each other so. 

“I wanna go down there,” you call over the small hill of your shoulder, turning back to peer down at the beach. You point down at the shoreline with your other hand, wagging your finger as to emphasize what it is you want.

Jesus fucking Christ, he’s going to have a goddamn heart attack. “Alright, baby. Come back here, I’ll take you down. Let’s go together.” You mumble something, arm flopping out, waving him away. “Please, sweetheart, come back here with me,” he begs, and there must be something in his tone, he’s sure, because you turn full back at that, looking at him suspiciously like you remember his earlier words of rejection and no longer trust him now. 

“I’m glowing, sir. I need to feel the sea and the cold.” Your voice sounds not your own, like it comes surfing off the wind to his ears. 

“Not, sir. Joel. Only Joel, remember?”

You push yourself up, moving to sit back on your knees, but still right at the edge, still too close. Sweat slides slick and frigid down his spine, the complete opposite of what you must be feeling right now. Only Joel. Only Joel, he hears you mutter at the sea. “There isn’t anything only about you. Leave me alone. Go away–”

“Please, baby. Come back here. Let’s go inside, I’ll give you the sea, I promise. Just come over here – with me.” You turn back at that, shifting on your knees to face him. If you lose your balance, stumble, you’ll topple back over the edge. He just needs to be good enough for you to want to come to him, convincing enough. He puts his palm out towards you, all supplication now. “Come here, sweet thing. I’ll show you the sea, I promise I will.” You start your slow spider crawl back towards him and his scar burns, a sharp pain through his brain, piercing behind his eye, heart beat to death between his ribs. As soon as he gets his hands on you, he’s going to fucking throttle you, he promises. But he’s almost got you, and he dares not move, barely even breathes, his hand is shaking so badly it interrupts his view of you on every other painful heartbeat, and he realizes his eyes are blurry with terrified tears, and suddenly, that anger doesn’t matter even half an ounce as much anymore because then you’re here and crawling into his arms, up into his lap so that he’s falling back onto his ass on the cold, hard ground. He pulls you into himself, clumsy little spider legs wrapping around his waist, your arms going around his neck so that you’re clinging to him. 

One of his boots lies lost and discarded back by the edge of the cliff.

“Please, don’t ever fucking do that to me again.”

“I’m glowing,” you sigh into his neck.

“I know you are, baby. It’s okay, we’ll fix it.” He feels you nuzzle at his collarbone, his neck, the gland, already sensitive and swollen behind his ear, already, already, already, God help me, and his heart feels like it’s beating so hard he can feel it move through your chest cavity and reverberate against his hand on your back. Christ, it wasn't supposed to happen this quickly, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to have more time, more choices, more control. The wet of your lips mouthing at his skin, and then the peek of your tongue tasting his gland, and he rumbles deep in his chest, his mind going loose and slacken like an old rubber band, and then snapping back to clarity at your surroundings. Cold wind and now the beginning sprinkling of needle freezing rain, your shivers jittering into his chest.

“We gotta go inside – let’s get up,” he murmurs into your ear, unable to resist nosing at your hair, the small, freezing cold seashell hidden within. 

Wait, wait– and then the scrape of small, blunt edged teeth just there at the vulnerable patch of skin. He swallows a scream, and the caged thing rattles and howls inside his chest, his arms going iron and binding around your back, pressing you to him, chest melded to chest. “Wait, please,” again, and now a tiny kiss. “If you don’t want me,” and he never should’ve even insinuated it, it’s the worst thing he’s ever done in his entire miserable fucking life. “Then will you please–” another soft press of lips to his jaw, the corner of his mouth. His hand slides down your spine, he can’t help himself, presses down on the base of your vertebrae, the heat of your cunt along the pulse of his cock, through cotton and denim and cold, just there, just there, he’s so fucking close. “Will you at least kiss me–” but you’re not waiting for another rejection, you’re just licking clean across the slash of his mouth, taking his bottom lip between both of yours for a shy little suck, unsure and inexperienced with desperation. And then there’s nothing caged about any of it, no more white box, no more perch at the end of the world, he squeezes you to himself so that it hurts, and he kisses you.  

Hand twisted too tightly in your dampening hair, he pulls your head back, and with a rumbling grunt sends you deep and languid into easy submission, the steady deep timber of the sound wringing the desired effect on you. You twitch once, as if he’d tugged on your strings, his pretty puppet, and then go soft and open and easily penetrated, jaw hinging open so that he can lick inside of you, tasting all you have to offer which he refuses to accept he’s actually taking and which you’re all too desperately eager to give. 

He takes it all regardless. 

Slick mouth against slick mouth, out there in the cold rain and wind, rolling around in the dirt, he tastes you the way the two of you were made for. Pulling your hips closer, rolling his up to meet all the heat you have to offer which will only get hotter and hotter the more he continues down this path. You claw at his hair, the gland at your wrist rubbing against the one at his ear, marking him with your scent and pheromones, marking him as yours. And he swears he can almost feel that glow in your belly too, a little wriggling comet in his hands, set to burst. The crescendo of your whining climbs higher, your mouth hungrier, and Joel feels insane for a second, entirely outside of himself, lost to his senses. All he is, is what you need him to be, something hard and strong and solid for you to mold yourself around, and it’s so right it’s wrong. Not what he’d planned, not what he’d decided. 

He rips his mouth away from yours, panting, forgetting his name and his sense and everything else he is besides a hard cock and a now equally smoldering belly. “Wait– wait,” he begs, burning comet, too willful to tame without teeth, surging in his arms. You rub yourself against his face, your hair sluicing through his, your soft tits against his chest, his neck, bumping his chin while you try to climb him perched in his lap like you are. “Wait, please–” he tries to sooth over your huffing whines, and then a sharp stinging little bite to his jaw line. 

No, no. 

“Stop. We have to stop, please. This isn't what’s supposed to happen. This isn’t what I want.” And you hear that. 

The comet burns out, you go still in his arms, and it feels worse than anything. He wishes he could swallow the words back immediately because then you’re pushing back and away from him. Scrambling out of his lap, escaping his arms as fast as you can. 

“You’re horrible! Get away–” He dodges a small, kicking foot – the bootless one.  And you’re stumbling to your feet, tripping over the too big shoe wrapped around your too small foot. He pushes to stand, as well, gripping you about the elbow, avoiding a weakly punching little fist now. This is truly getting too ridiculous. The two of you need to come to terms with each other, meet in the middle, forgo the theatrics you seem all too desperate for. He ducks away from another ineffectual punch, grips you by the scruff of the neck, unruly kitten that you are, and pushing you forward, hooks you under his arm, lifting you clear off the ground and rendering you entirely captured, bent in half, a wilted flower over the strong of his forearm. 

You squawk indignantly, kicking your feet against the back of his leg as he stomps over to his abandoned boot, slowly filling with rain now, fuck this shit, and trudges through the mud back to the house, ice cold droplets dripping off the tip of his nose. The two of you are well on your way to soaked, but he thinks it might not be such a bad thing, considering the ball of heat radiating from your belly, the one in his own mimicking you. It seems to pool in the palm of his hand, where he’s got you hooked and caught over his arm, honey collection of magma.

Let me go! You’re screeching. “Leave me alone! You don’t even care about me and I hate you and I want to see the water!” More kicking and clawing.

When he finally dumps you back onto your rumpled bed, undignified yelps and pathetic little growls, he’s at his wits end. Taking you firmly in hand, heavy hand back at the nape of your neck, thickly calloused palm scraping against the quickly swelling gland there, other pushing at your hip to drape you over the edge of the bed like a rag doll, he folds himself over you, smothering you with his weight and heat, forcing you into calm. You go shocked frozen, wracked with shivers and then finally, blessedly still and quiet. This was all you needed, for Joel to follow his instincts. 

He presses you into the bed with his too heavy weight, thick arms caged around your head, pert little ass tucked up against his pelvis, and he breathes you in, lets you settle. 

“You need to behave,” he rumbles, and all you do is sigh bleary eyed and exhausted by your own willfulness. “You’re not to go outside all alone at night like that again, do you understand me? And you are especially, never, ever, to go that close to the cliff edge again.”

“But the sea–” you whine and shift, rubbing your little cunt against his now fully hard cock, perfect position that he’s got you in, presented to him like this. He presses tighter against you, growling deep in his chest to shut you up. 

“Promise me.” But you whine, shifting, starting to cry a little, too far gone to the start of the fever he’s done nothing to really sate. There’s still time yet, for your full heat, but these beginning symptoms, they need to be soothed just as well, tempered just as diligently as the full blown heat would be. If for nothing else, than for the sake of the omegas' comfort and happiness. He bends his knees, shoving the thick of his erection up against the apex of your thighs, pressing you further up onto the bed and tighter beneath him, and nosing through the mantle of your hair, he finds the gland at the back of your neck beneath the collar of his sweater and bites down gently. Not breaking skin, only giving you teeth to feel, to be soothed by, that blunt clasp that’ll dull your own sharp edges for now. 

He laves his tongue along the scorching patch of skin, the texture different to the rest of you, different, even, to his own glands, like silk, like water, something liquid about the feel of you here beneath his tongue and teeth. You let out a terrible little sound that has the threads of his control snapping, providing cause for concern, and he growls softly, pleased, in response. It’s a sound of submission and acceptance and praise, from the both of you equally, all at the same time. He lets you settle like this, petting at you with his tongue, giving you the scraping edge of his teeth like a threat, every so often. Grinding, because honestly he can’t even fucking help it, against that scorching little cunt he knows would already, even now, be so soft for him. Perhaps, not soft enough yet, not ripe enough yet, to take his knot and everything else he wants to force on it, but soft enough for him to teach you how to take a good fucking. 

A virgin, never even had a heat before, and trapped here between his teeth and beneath his cock. It would all be so easy, it would all feel so right. 

But that is, Joel thinks, just the thing of it. It would feel right – but would it be right? He can’t yet tell. 

You cloud his judgment, seduce his nature into wanting to give you everything and anything you could ever even think to ask for, and he can’t yet tell if it’s just you, that sparkle and that light and that heat like a comet that lives inside of you that he’s coming to suspect is wholly yours, nothing to do with biology or designations or markers that tell of what you should and should not be, that’s got him so desperate to please you. Or if it’s only nature, trying to force him into another choice he’s not made for himself. 

-

You wake slowly, disturbed out of your sleep the way one feels when they’re being spied on by something too large and too scary to look at right in the eye. 

You shift in the blue bed, cool and calm now, all that glowing heat from before that’d forced you out into the cold and the wind, hungry to throw yourself through space and time out into the sea, reckless and free, gone away now. All you feel as your eyes blink open slowly, is a shivery, damp cold rattling down the line of your spine. The room around you is dark, the glow of the slumbering fire out in the living room peeking in through the slightly left ajar door of your bedroom. 

He’d stayed until you’d gone boneless and calm, trapped beneath his weight and between his thick strong arms, letting you suck on the gland inside his wrist as you’d pleased. And when finally, you’d been just on this side of awake, he’d changed your clothes and slid you beneath the soft sheets and weighted duvet, and sat in the cozy sofa chair by the window until you’d been too exhausted by the embers in your tummy and the tight want between your legs to fight sleep any longer. 

The chair sits cold and empty now, and above it, the wide window, the pitch black of the world beyond is bright with unknown terrors, and you huddle into your nest of pillows and blankets, hiding beneath the edge of the duvet. 

You’d never had a window in your bunk, had not experienced the night in years and years, and looking at it now, put on display as it is through the clear pane of glass separating you from all of that unknown, you feel suddenly terrified, nothing but little. It feels as if you were to look away from it, it’d reach through the glass and pluck you out of your bed, whisk you far enough away that he’d never be able to find you, come for you again, and also, like if you don’t stop looking, it’ll eventually begin to look back. You wiggle backwards, bum finding the edge of the bed, and then sliding out, feet first, gaze still peeled on the window and the night, walking backwards out of your room and pulling the door shut on your way. At the very last moment, you peek through the sliver of the door edge and frame, nothing but your nose remaining in the blue room, and you swear the night stares back now. 

You shut the door with a snick, and turn to rush on tipped toes in search of his room. 

He’s sleeping on his back, one thick arm thrown over his head, the other laying across his belly, and you peer over the edge of the bed, hands clasped beneath your chin, watching the up and down of his breathing, the flicker of his eyes beneath his lids. He has long eyelashes and funny whiskers and hair everywhere. Under his arms, and across his chest and his belly, leading down below the sheet covering him, to the thick lump there, that place you don’t know yet, but do understand. He’s hairy, and he’s big, and the aching place you want to show him comes awake in response to all this man you have before you. And although the house is warm, the fires stoked diligently to keep you as toasty as you need, another shiver runs its way down your back. So taking hold of one of his thighs, you hoist yourself up onto his too tall bed, knobby knee stabbing him in the side as you climb on top of him, planting yourself right in the middle of his broad expanse. He gives a rough grunt, shocked awake by the little creature climbing its way all over him, hands shooting out to steady you by the hips as he jerks startled. 

“What in the Sam Hell–” You ignore his spluttering, rubbing your bottom against his stomach, finding a comfortable position to drape yourself over him, wilting like a felled weed snuggled up against his chest, tucked just below his chin, giving an entirely contented sigh when you settle. “What the fuck’re you doin’?” He has such a nasty mouth. Someone should wash it with soap for him. 

He tries to roll over, but you cling, bearing your sharp little teeth to latch at his collarbone, holding tight, refusing to be shoved away again. “M’cold–” you fuss, chewing and slobbering all over him as you pull yourself closer, hitching a knee over his hip, burrowing your foot between the bed and his back. 

“You have t’go back to your bed. You can’t sleep here.”

You whine, chewing harder, and he grumbles, but his hands slide from your hips to your back in a soothing pass and you slick your tongue against the flavors of his skin. He tastes so good, and he smells so good, and in a tiny voice you know will get you what you want, you say, “The window is too big and it’s so dark. I’m scared, alpha.”

He groans, grip going tight and strangling around you, fists bunching in the oversized clothes he’d swaddled you in after he’d dried the rain and outdoor chill off of you before putting you to bed. “Can’t I just stay here? I promise I’ll be good like you told me to,” and you nuzzle against him, making sure to thoroughly cover him in the headiness of your scent. Everything is so warm and right, and he’s so thick and comfortable and strong everywhere, perfect for laying on top of like this. The hair on his chest is prickly, tickling your face where you rub yourself against it, and he rumbles low, a deep sort of purring sound that you feel vibrate in your tummy, big wolfish man that he is, but his grip goes loose and soft after a while, stroking and soothing and petting along your slopes and planes. Convinced. Ha. 

You hold very still, breathe very slow, make sure not to spook the beast while he accepts the fact of you here atop him until he finally says, already sleepy and relaxed again, “Alright… but you’ll behave like I said.” And eventually he rolls the two of you over, little omega barnacle that you’ve turned yourself into, and tucks you into his warm side. 

The third time you wake to him, there’s fire everywhere. And an ache in your womb so sharp it sends shivers through your whole body. You cling and grind and tremble; forget your name, where you are, nothing more than that sticky throb in that place that you want to give to him so, so badly. 

He’s draped atop you, heavy arm caging you in, thick chest covering your back, smothering you between incredible strength and, soft, Joel smelling sheets. You cup the ball of his bicep, it’s big and hard and hot, and drag your palm along the thick slope. He’s so strong, he could crush you, hurt you, make you into anything he wanted, and you want all those things, you think. You want him to do whatever he wants if only he’ll make the ache go away. Fire and glowing bright heat everywhere, most of all your belly, your heart, somewhere so deep inside you’d never known it existed until he’d come and made you aware of it. 

Your fingers slide along his wide forearm, hairy here too, thick wrist, hard, strong bone beneath, and then the soft spot on the inside that belongs to you now. You stick your tongue out, tasting the spongy patch, scraping your teeth along it. If you bite him, you’ll be able to keep him forever, he won’t be able to send you away, but there still remains – even if just for a little bit longer, before the heat you’ve been waiting your whole life and a year for to finally take you – a part of you that’s still rational, head only halfway gone to the clouds. That part which reminds you that more than anything, you want him to choose you. Without the bite as a deal breaker, bond sealer, only because he wants you, only because he likes you. 

But you can taste him, it doesn’t mean you have to bite him, and you the tip of run your tongue along the inside of his wrist, gently suckling at his gland, the flavor of him so much stronger here, as if his essence is more concentrated at this small place. And the ache between your legs, in your tummy, deepens, spreads and blooms and ravages. The inside of you feels sensitive and swollen and big and little all at once, and you shift your bottom, trying to rub yourself back up against him, your sucking mouth pulling sharper, a whine bubbling in your throat because you need something, something more, and you think you know, and you know you understand, but you’re not sure, and if he could just wake up and show you it would all be so much better.

You press back harder, arching so that the aching place feels the heat of him behind you, that hard ridge there that makes your heart pound all through your body. You’d shucked off your leggings and the sweater he’d put you in through the night, too hot and sweaty with the big beast smothering you as he’d been, so now you’re left in nothing but one of his too big t-shirts and the soft, cotton white panties all the omegas always wore. You whine again, gnawing on his wrist for real now, and a big paw of a hand comes up to wrap around your hip, stilling your wriggling. You feel him lean closer, burying his face in the back of your hair, groaning, hot bullish breath fanning across your nape. He rumbles deep and it only makes you feel worse, more desperate, more hungry for that thing you don’t know how to ask for. You want to cry his name, beg him, but your tongue feels fat and swollen inside your mouth, too full of blazing heat to form actual words. He just has to know, he just has to be able to tell. 

“I know,” he mumbles against your nape, nosing around to your ear where he presses his mouth. “I know, it’s alright.” You gurgle again, pulling his wide palm to cover your face completely, nuzzling against his rough palm, muffling your pathetic animal sounds of supplication. It’s okay, it’s okay, you can hear him murmuring and you’re not sure who the words are for, but you feel certain they’re not for you. He’s scared, you know this. Between all the things you’re so uncertain of, this you’re sure of. He’s afraid, and it’s your job to reassure him, to show him how well it will all be once the two of you come together. 

You push your face harder into his palm, and you feel him hook his fingers into the elastic of your panties, tugging the soft fabric wide, tugging them down your legs, and there’s that same need, yes, that comet bright glowing heat, but also, and something you can recognize as more your usual self, a desperate sort of shyness. Something coming unraveled and unspooled for the whole world, him, to see. You can feel the slick uncoveredness at the apex of your thighs, running down your legs, a blossom of heat and vulnerability there at that place, the core of you, and it doesn’t feel shameful, necessarily, but painfully exposed. Your softest place bared for him to see. And yet, alongside that, the knowledge that this soft place is only for him, that you only ever want it to be for him, and so this can, again, be nothing but right. 

“Look at all this slick you’ve made for me, what a sweet girl you are.” There’s such reassurance in the timber of his voice, it makes the heat change, something swirling but steady, constant. You spread your own palm against the back of his hand covering your face, line your fingers along the backs of his, little and big, matched alongside each other, and you press his fingers against your forehead, squishing your nose against his palm, Hiding there in the cup of his hand from the whole world and him, waiting for this truth of yourself to finally be revealed to you. 

His palm strokes along your bare thigh, I know, I know, he keeps saying, and they’d told you all that your alphas would know, that they’d show you, and there’s reassurance in this, that some part of what’s happening is unfolding as they said it would. It makes you feel not so small, not so untried and naive. You try and lay as still as possible, willing the flames into patience, breathing in your own hot breath from the cup of his palm. I know it hurts, we’ll make it better, I promise. He shifts behind you, the rustling of fabric, and then his hand on your bottom again, moving in a slow circular motion, steady and reassuring. He moves to your leg again, lifts it and then something hot and hard and big, coming to rest on your inner thigh, and he lets your leg down, starts the soothing rub of your bottom again. 

“We’re gonna go so slow, alright. Only a little at a time and not the whole thing today. We gotta wait for your heat to settle in all the way, time it all right so that my rut doesn’t start before you’re ready to take me. How does that sound, sweetheart?” But your tongue is still fat, your words still jumbled and missing, and all you really want to ask is if he’s changed his mind now, if he’s finally decided he wants you, and you think you’re crying, sipping salt water from the palm of his hand. “I know I wasn’t how you needed me yesterday, and I’m sorry for that.” He presses his forehead against the back of your shoulder, hand sliding up your hip to your waist, dragging his shirt along as he goes, uncovering you for himself. And you feel so intensely, that you belong to him, and you can’t understand how he could have ever not felt the same way. 

You hitch an agonized little sob, muffled by his hand, and he rolls slightly so you’re half draped atop his chest, his palm rubbing soothing circles low on your belly now. And forcing you out of your hiding place, he pulls your face back to look at him, gripped around your jaw. His face is very serene, and this settles you, makes the words he’s saying clearer, more meaningful. “Can you hear me silly thing, or can all you think about is taking a cock right now?” You scrunch your nose at him, you know that word, it’s his hard thing between your legs. 

“It’s so heavy, alpha,” you sniffle, feeling the weight of it pressing against you there. 

He nods, warm look in his eyes that crease at the edges. “That’s how it’s going to feel inside you, baby.”

“The knot?” A seedling blooms again, this one very different now, full of hope once more. You realize you’ve found your missing words. 

He shakes his head, not yet, and drags his palm up the inside of your thigh, squeezing and kneading as he goes, and you want to complain that he moves so slow, that he needs to do something else, you don’t know what, but something. You want to click your teeth at him, bite him again, anything to make him go. 

And then: “Drippy little girl,” and he’s finally there and a moan that’s almost a scream because he’s cupping a place that is so unbearably sensitive and raw and full of heat and wet like you’d never known was possible. 

Oh, oh, ah, ah, ah. “It’s alright,” he says, rubbing gently back and forth, a slick sound that is loud and embarrassing coming from between your legs. “It’s alright. This’ll help for now. We won’t go inside.” And he grips the heavy thing, his cock, in his own palm that’s all slick from your leaking and presses it against you. He rolls over completely now, shifting higher in the bed so that you’re sitting full on top of him, back to chest, bum to belly, and he spreads your thighs wide with his other hand, pulling your shirt up to bare all your nakedness for him to see. You wonder if he can also see all that burning shyness you’re suddenly so chock full of. 

“Look at these pretty little tits,” he murmurs, cupping one small morsel in his palm, squeezing so that you’re arching against him, mouth agape like a fish, trying to find sounds that seem to have suddenly gone missing once again. “That’s right, I know.” He moves to the other one, squeezes and pinches and shakes it so that it jiggles in the cup of his hand. All the while he strokes his cock between your legs, pulling his hips back every so often so that it slides against you, coating it in all that wet slick you’re spilling for him. 

You look down at the place where it juts out between your thighs, and it’s so big. Dark and angry looking at the end, thick and covered in veins that make it look even angrier and about to burst. You ask him if it hurts him, and he laughs a little and says it isn’t anything you can’t fix which makes you seven different shades of pleased. 

The hand at your breasts moves up to your face again, and he turns your head, searching for your eyes. “We started off badly yesterday, yes? But we’re gonna do better today. I promise.” He slides his hips back again and this time he presses harder against you, his hand flat against the underside of his cock so that the top is slicking all along you. Sensitive little cunt, he says when you tremble and shiver and keen, and that’s when you know that’s what it's called. Your cunt. That place that belongs to him, that you want to give him so badly, that you want him to want so badly but that you barely even know yourself. No more experience than the greedy, frantic digging at the soft, hot flesh beneath your hand in moments when everything had felt too tight and needy to do anything else. 

“Gonna break you in so well, baby. Gonna teach you how to come, how to fuck, how to take a knot.” And now the wide head presses against you, against a place that is so, so incredibly sensitive it almost hurts. You suck in a sharp gasp, trying to jerk away from the hurt, but he holds you in place against him, presses again, yeah, I know, yeah I know, like he’s trying to put it inside you, and yes, you think that’s what it is, that’s what you need, even if it might hurt. “You’re gonna get everything you need jus’ from me,” and his words are slurred and dripping slacken from his tongue. 

He starts to move faster, you think he’s swallowed the same stone of desperation you did, rough grunts and huffing pants, and “So fucking small, it’ll never fit.” Jesus fucking Christ. And on every slick slide forward that wide angry head of it, his cock, bumps the crest of your sex, catches at your hole. You watch it in shock as it presses in just a little, and it hurts and feels like you’re full of bubbles and everything is sticky and your tummy glows with heat. 

“Your little cunt needs this,” he grunts, the head catches, he presses, presses, pulls away, you want to bite and scratch and demand he go all the way, and you’re nothing but a pounding heart and a clenching cunt and you want more, and when he slides again it notches full on at the tiny opening, he pauses, lets it rest there before he presses not even half a centimeter further, only giving you the wide stretch of it, letting your cunt flutter and grip around the very head. 

“Look at that–” And he peers over your shoulder to look at what he’s doing to you. “Look at your tiny cunt stretching for me.”

You cry, trying to pull away, trying to shove yourself deeper, to take the whole of it like the greedy thing you are, but he holds you in place and lets you flutter and flutter and cry until something in your womb pulls tight, and with his fingers swirling at the apex of your sex, the little nub that is so sensitive it pulls a warbled, baying moan from your tongue, an ah, ah, ah, he gives you your first orgasm with him. A desperate thing, too much and not enough, and with his other hand he’s squeezing, shoving his fist along the rest of the length of his cock, pressing it hard where you meet, and then he’s feeding you a blazing heat, filling you with it, stirring your insides to flutter and shiver harder. Forcing you to cry and beg for more, “Please, please, please,” more.

“You’re not ready yet.”

And although you’re not entirely certain for what, you promise, “I am, I am, I can take it.” You know he’s supposed to put it all the way inside, that then, the knot will come. And although you’re unsure what it will specifically be like, what will become of you during or after, you know you’re ready to discover it all. 

“Not yet.” And he’s grunting it through clenched teeth, his hips churning, spitting tip grinding at your hole, something hot and thick sliding wetly all over and between the two of you. “You’ll do as I say. Your little cunt needs this, needs me to be patient with her.”

He lets the slick weight of himself fall away from you, leaving you feeling stretched and bruised and all shivery on the inside, yet still hungry for more. And he pulls his hands along the slopes of you, leaving trails of sticky wet along your skin. The proof of all you are, invisible but tangible, with a taste and a smell and a feel. 

You lay your head back on his shoulder, the heat swirls and simmers for now, and your cunt, your cunt, your cunt, you want to give it to him in full, it throbs and trembles against his slick cock. “I’ve never had a heat before,” you tell him although you know he knows. He probably knows everything there is to know about you, which, admittedly, is not much. 

“That's alright.”

“It will come soon, yes?” You peer over your shoulder to look up at him, and he nods down at you, that warm, eye creased look on his face again. You like the sight of it so much. 

“Will I go away from myself?”

“No,” he says gentle, “I won’t let you. I’ll keep you here with me. You have nothing to be anxious about.”

He rolls the two of you over, keeping you in the comfort of his embrace, and he’s huge and steaming and naked behind you. His hairy chest, his hairy legs all along the smooth and sensitive curves of you. And his thing, it’s still trapped between your thighs, heavy and sticky with your wet, and still kind of hard but not as much as before. You reach between your legs to touch it, and he jerks and hisses but lets you do as you please. Curious fingertips gently along the thick round end of it, down the long length to find two heavy and hot weights hanging lower. 

“Where is the knot?” You ask uncertainly, shy with all the things you don’t know. 

“Here,” and he grabs your hand, moving your fingers to the base of it where there’s an area of skin, of a different sort of texture, rougher, thicker, around the circumference of it. You prod gently at it, not understanding. “See, it’ll swell when it’s inside of you, and then we’ll stay connected for a time, and I’ll fill you, and that’ll help your heat. And after a while it’ll go down, until you need it again. Did they explain to you how it’ll happen?” His cock is thick between your thighs again, beneath your exploring fingers. A little harder and bigger than it was before. His body, something like a wonderful miracle you need to know everything there is to know about it.

“Yes, but not– not all the way, I don’t think. They said you’d show me.” You turn back to look at him, searching for confirmation, reassurance, but instead ask: “Why did you change your mind?” And finally, of his own choosing, he grips you by the throat, and presses a small kiss to your mouth. The greatest victory of the day, and it’s only just begun. 

“It’s exhausting, not letting yourself have what you need.” Need, not want. He shifts over you, coming up on his elbow and rolling you so that you’re on your back and looking up at him. You bring your fingers up to explore along his face: the hooked nose, soft mouth, heart brandished beard. He sighs that bull sigh, and you giggle as it tickles your throat and cheeks. Need, not want. That stings. “Fighting against what you are constantly– and you reminded me that we still have control in what we are. That there’s still choice in this, decidin’ to be what we are without resenting it. And we need each other, after all.” Need, not want. 

“I don’t think you need me.”

“No?”

“No.” The truth that you very much feel like you need him, you keep to yourself. And anyways, he knows. You know he knows. 

“M’thinkin’ I didn’t know I did. Or couldn’t say it out loud.” And he mimics your exploring fingers: thumb against the fan of your lashes, up the slope of your cheekbone, prying your mouth open to catch the edge of your bottom teeth and look inside. There’s a warm look in his eyes, like he’s pleased with you, like you’ve done a good job. “Think I’m realizin’ how wrong I was. How I want this all too.” 

Want, not need. 

He bends his head and kisses your mouth, kisses your breast, shows you how much he wants it.  

3. I Was a Child Once, I’m Not Any Longer

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

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#vic fic #HSM fic #Joel Miller #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us AU #pedro pascal characters

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere Monkey D. Luffy Headcanons (General)

''I can't be the King of Pirates without you by my side.'' — Monkey D. Luffy.

❝ 👒 — lady l: It's 4am and I decided to finish this because I was bored lol. Hope you like it! I'm sorry for any mistake and good reading! ❤️💛

❝tw: obsessive behavior, overprotection, mention of death and torture, unhealthy relationships.

❝👒pairing: yandere!monkey d. luffy x gender neutral!reader.

Monkey D. Luffy has a relaxed and even sloppy personality, in a way. He has a carefree air, who cares about few things in his life. He had a goal, a dream, in mind and he would do anything to achieve it. But that dream became irrelevant after he met you.

He insisted a lot on you joining his crew, literally chasing you, harassing you, until you agreed to become a pirate. Luffy jumped for joy when that happened, because it meant you responded to him, as your Captain.

Luffy doesn't like to give you orders and he will rarely do so, unless it is unavoidable, in which case he will try to be as subtle as possible, as if he wasn't ordering you to do something. He is the Straw Hat Captain, but he is not your captain, not in a personal way at least. Furthermore, he wants you to find One Piece together with him.

He is very optimistic and tends to be very kind, trying to see the good in people, but he is a hypocrite when it comes to you. Even if you were the cruelest person in the world, Luffy would defend you tooth and nail. He's not very fair when it comes to you and anything ''wrong'' you do will be ignored by him, maybe even applauded.

People tend to think he's dumb or at least stupid, but that's not true. He may not be good at things that require greater thinking, but Luffy is anything but stupid. He is quite intelligent in his own way and it shows in the way he acts towards you. His intelligence is characterized by his emotional ability, he is very good at reading you and knowing your needs.

Luffy values you more than the rest of his crew. He loves all his friends, but he loves you the most. He would never say it out loud, but he would sacrifice everyone, send them to their deaths, if you so wish. He wants to make you happy and if the death of those who are important to him is the path to that happiness, so be it.

He is not possessive or jealous because Luffy knows he is your favorite. He doesn't mind other people being around you, but he has his limit. If Luffy thinks, even a little, that he is being replaced in your life, he won't accept it. Not without a fight. He's no stranger to bloodshed or killing, so he'll have no problem doing so.

On the other hand, Luffy is extremely overprotective and clingy, to a frightening degree. He dragged you into this life, but he doesn't want you to be an active participant. The idea, the thought, of you getting hurt sends you into a frenzy of anger and worry. He will kill, cut and even torture the person who hurt you and will only be satisfied when he has finished with the person.

Luffy is quite controlling and curious, he wants to know everything about you and he will find out. He doesn't want any secrets to be kept from him and he may feel betrayed if you try to keep something from him. Did he not give you enough confidence? Don't you know he's the only one you can really trust? Luffy will have to do something about your inappropriate behavior.

He likes to spend as much time as he can by your side, take everything he can and stay close to you as much as possible. His favorite moments together are when you are eating or sitting on the bow of the Going Merry. Luffy is very greedy for food and for you, if there are two things he cares about most and values above all else, it's you and food, in that order.

It's not easy to irritate him, but he gets irritated very easily when you're involved. If someone says something bad about you, feel sorry for that person because they won't end well. Luffy would never go so far as to kill over an insult, but he will get upset and he can be a pain in the ass when he is upset about something.

Luffy often behaves like a child, he tends to go to extremes very easily. He goes from 80 to 180 very quickly, his infectious joy turns to fury very quickly when it comes to you. He loves to entertain you with his rubber body, letting you play or making funny faces. He loves to hear you laugh and will do anything to see you laugh.

He hates seeing you cry, hates seeing your beautiful face wet with tears, your lips pursed as you cry. If Hell exists, then for Luffy it's seeing you cry. He will become furious and demand to know the cause of your sadness and once he finds out, he will deal quickly, often bloodily. If it is one of the Mugiwara, however, he will just be more rigid and will not hurt them.

Luffy is selfless, he is willing to sacrifice himself for you, to save you. He is delusional to a fault, willing to kill anyone who crosses you, including his own friends. Whatever past hurt you may, if he has your approval, Luffy will get revenge for you. No one can hurt you, no one can make you cry. He may not be the most dangerous to you, but to others around him, Luffy will have no qualms.

#one piece #yandere one piece #dark one piece #monkey d. luffy x reader #luffy x reader #yandere monkey d. luffy #yandere monkey d. luffy headcanons #yandere monkey d. luffy x reader #yandere luffy #yandere luffy x reader #yandere luffy headcanons #yandere headcanons #headcanons

[dilfsfordinner]

a/n- this fucker is nasty, but my uterus is taking over my brain so idc

warnings- IF YOU DON’T LIKE BLOOD, DON’T READ, PLEASE, fem! bodied reader, period oral sex (fem! receiving), fingering, cramps and talk of periods in general

——————————————————————————

Since the torturous days of puberty, every year you had been suffering from the claws of your monthly blood week, your period somehow always finding a new way to piss you off, this time being the fact that you were getting pelted with an endless slew of pitchfork-esque cramps.

A warm bath didn’t help, sitting didn’t help, and somehow, sleeping didn’t either because the pinching twists in your uterus followed you into your dreams as well.

It didn’t matter that it was Saturday, if you couldn’t relax it wasn’t really the weekend. It didn’t help that the sky was gloomy either, clouds blocking the one thing that could possibly lighten your attitude. Toji didn’t seem to notice your very irritated mood, or the countless side-eyes you had been throwing at him since the beginning of the day, he just continued to prep breakfast, seemingly clueless to the war raging in your insides.

Groaning, you threw the heavy, down comforter off of your burning limbs, struggling to the kitchen in a very shaky fashion. You couldn’t even be mad at your man for not noticing, he was caught up in making food for the both of you, and you had to admit, it smelled wonderful.

You seemed to forget that his senses were unnaturally heightened, so dragging your feet and muttering under your breath did very little to conceal your presence, let alone your emotions. Making an effort to wrench the fridge open, you scanned for something sweet, preferably watermelon or something that wouldn’t make you feel like shit after eating, but to no avail, you were left with no fruit finds, a huff leaving you as you placed your hands on your hips, staring at the shelves as if you could make something just magically appear.

Warmth radiated from behind you, strong arms wrapping around your waist as Toji rested his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. “What’s the matter, pretty,” he murmured, kissing the soft panel of skin beneath your jaw before turning his attention to rubbing soft circles on your waist.

A half-moan, half-sigh was pulled from you, his actions relaxing the tense muscles coiling inside of your lower half, cramps calming briefly at the deep massage his fingers delivered. “My period,” was all you managed to breathe out, trying to appreciate the short-lived relief he gave you, your limbs almost going lax in his hold.

Toji stiffened against your back, his muscles tightening in some protective, almost primal way. He wished he could take your pain, even for a second, because the sight of his love struggling to eat, walk, and even stand for a week of every month was torture in itself.

“Do you want to eat now?” he asked softly, continuing his massage just below your navel. You were actually excited to eat, excited to finally satisfy one kind of abdominal ache, that was until a sharp, stabbing sensation ripped along your lower, left side, most likely caused by the long fingers kneading the muscles there.

Gritting your teeth to prevent a cry, you pushed Toji’s hands away, shrugging out of his hold to stomp back to your bedroom, anger, as irrational and undeserved as it was, fizzling off of you and pointedly toward Toji. Yes, your period made you the “stereotypical”, hormone-crazed, emotional woman, but you had an excuse, you were cursed with some of the most inconvenient pains, which inevitably caused your attitude to turn, well, a little.. sassy.

Toji, however, knew exactly how to quell such sass, as bold as it might seem. So, carefully, he followed behind the angry breadcrumbs of muttered insults you purposely said aloud, to join you in the warmth of your bedroom. There, Toji watched as you plopped on the end of the bed, the action causing your arms to fold over your stomach in pain, curses spewing from you as his presence was accidentally, or maybe, intentionally ignored.

Gathering his courage to approach the beast groaning on the bed, Toji made himself known by pushing open the door, his footsteps light as he made his way over to your hunched figure. Your hands came up to cover your face, a sigh shaking your shoulders as a ticklish sensation enveloped your feet.

There, kneeling before you, was your very caring, very concerned husband, his large hands cradling your feet, the warmth of his palms even hotter than the fluffy, woolen socks that adorned your toes. He didn’t say anything, his face perfectly calm, peaceful in the warm light of the lamps you had placed around the room.

Green eyes came up to meet your hidden gaze, your fingers split just so to peek down at him. “Let me help you,” was all he said, voice hushed, his hands continuing their massage further up your legs, and even then, he never broke eye contact. “Please,” he whispered, those eyes of his so genuinely interested in pleasing you, taking care of you, you couldn’t help but trust him, letting your hands fall away to slowly nod at him.

Humming gratefully, his hands skated up your thighs to grasp the waistband of your pajama pants and undies, fingers teasing the delicate skin of your navel. “Lie back for me,” he murmured, hands still as he awaited your response. Apprehensively, you let yourself sink into the thick blankets beneath you, watching as he lifted your legs to slide your clothes and undergarments off.

“Wait, Toji, I’m-”

“I know,” he hushed you, kissing the inside of your knee before pulling his black sweater over his head, leaving him bare from the waist up. You thought he was trying to get something for himself, but no, he used the sweater for you, one hand lifting both of your legs up so that he could slide the knit material under your bottom. A.. towel of a sort?

Finally realizing what he planned to do, you snapped your thighs closed, huffing to sit up on your elbows, Toji looking up at you with amused eyebrows, his head tilted knowingly. “I’m bleeding,” was what you settled on, surely thinking that that was enough to steer him away from anything remotely sexual.

Toji just looked at you, his gaze not faltering, almost like he was challenging you for a better excuse, “And?”

“It’s gross!”

“No, it’s not. Besides, it’ll help you relax.”

Holding eye contact, he lowered himself to leave a kiss on your ankle, continuing up until his nose nuzzled the top of your thigh. “Trust me,” he whispered, his arms snaking underneath your thighs hesitantly, before he was tugging you to the edge of the bed, the crook of your knees fitting perfectly over the curve of his shoulders.

Biting the inside of your cheek, your eyebrows furrowed, debating letting him have his way with you, a checklist appearing in your head; One, he was clean so there really wasn’t the need to worry about infections or uti’s, especially because he had washed his hands a bunch while making breakfast. Two, he hadn’t eaten so his mouth was clean after recently having brushed. The third was where you really struggled. Did he really want to? Was he really not disgusted by the fact that you were currently leaking blood?

His low eyelids and eager kisses answered your questions enough, the doubts you had disappearing one by one, so with slow movements, you settled back onto the blankets, body relaxing in his hold.

Now, there was no word to describe how good it felt to have “relations” on any regular day, but on your period, it truly felt other worldly. The second Toji’s mouth left a kiss to the curve of your pubic bone, it was like your cramps took it as a sign to stop their infernal pounding, like even they knew what was to come.

Those kisses didn’t stop at the top, oh no, they continued to places much lower. There was a pause in his sweet ministrations before a gentle lick was being delivered up your slit, Toji’s tongue stopping at the top of your crease before he started to suckle the little bud there, your clit wasting no time sending electric bolts of pleasure up your spine.

He continued to suck and suck, circling his tongue, up and down, and side to side all while you shivered in his hold, chest rising and falling faster with the need to pull in air, your hand coming down to rest in his silky hair, inky strands slightly askew from the restless movements you used, your fingers raking through his locks.

It went on like that for what seemed like hours, his tongue pattern routine in your mind. You were so close to falling off the edge, all of your pleasure funneling to one spot in your core before you felt something nudge your entrance. Said “thing” was long and expertly trained on the subject of fingering, Toji’s middle finger pushing into your hole, a breathy sigh of his name leaving your lips.

With the added appendage, the sensations you were feeling increased tenfold, that familiar heartbeat throbbing in your cunt making your hips restless in his hold, Toji never relenting, continuing his strokes added with the plunge of his finger.

Looking down, he was certainly a sight to behold. His eyes were closed, eyebrows drawn together, cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and his lips, his chin- they were red, smeared with a dripping, ruby substance. Humiliation burned throughout your body, your hands about to cover your face before a certain noise stopped you. He had groaned, you realized, and not only that, it had sounded desperate, throaty and utterly him. He really didn’t mind.

A second finger began to push into you, the cold band of his wedding ring entering the warmth of your cunt, two different types of liquids squelching from the curl of his fingers, trickling down the inside of his palm. The skin of your entrance was taut around his fingers with every plunge inside, a pink ring beginning to accumulate at the base of his knuckles, your white liquids mixing with blood to create an interesting mixture of telltale orgasmic signs.

His mouth was messy, tongue delving to tease your hole before licking back up to your clit, his fingers and lips sometimes trading places to stretch your sanity even thinner. You looked so pretty, your nipples peaked under the material of your shirt, your chest heaving, and your face, which was barely visible to him, was cast to the side, eyes closed and mouth open, panting his name and other mindless words he couldn’t focus on enough to decipher.

“Toji, I’m-” you couldn’t even finish your shaky sentence, Toji finding it in him to make sure you finished in the most overwhelming way possible, his strong arms curling around your thighs, anchoring you to his mouth to prevent you from running away.

With a brush against that spongey spot inside of you and a particularly deft suck to your clit, you came with a shudder, your thighs shaking and squeezing him, heart beating so fast it felt like blood was emptying into a hollow place in your head. Easing his fingers out of you, Toji slowly detached his mouth from your cunt, licking his lips, gazing fondly at your very lax limbs and panting chest.

A dip in the mattress told you that he had seated himself next to your spent form, your eyes too tired to actually open and see. The fingers of his clean hand stroked down your cheek- comforting and calm. “How do you feel?” he murmured, fingers continuing their strokes down the side of your face until you opened your eyes.

You hadn’t even realized until he’d brought it up, but the agonizing, devilish cramps you were pelted with before were now reduced to nothing but a dull ache, sharpness and nausea free from the chamber of your insides. “A lot.. better,” your last word was quiet, like you didn’t want to admit that he was right about the whole thing after all.

A teasing flick to your forehead hinted that he knew very well how right he was. “I told you,” Toji grinned, watching as you rolled your eyes playfully, using your jello-like arms to try and push yourself into a seated position.

Being right next to him, you noticed just how dirty you had gotten him. The bottom half of his face was stained red, pinkish lines from your liquids trailing down his jaw and down his neck. Holding a laugh, you gestured to his figure, “You need a wash.”

Moving past him, you bent to pick up your discarded clothing that had been thrown haphazardly in the moment. You should’ve known he was planning something because as soon as you grasped your pants, a slap was delivered to your bum, a gasp coming from your lips as your head whipped to face the culprit, Toji’s arms crossed, eyes looking suspiciously humorous.

Twisting to see what he’d done, the slap he’d delivered had left a handprint, two imprinted fingers stained red on your skin, your previously clean body now sullied by your own blood. Scowling up at him, you watched as he strolled to the bathroom, saying over his shoulder, “Now you do too.”

With a muttered curse, the balled up pants you had in hand somehow made their way soaring across the room to hit the black haired man right to the back of his head. There’s one thing that never changed- if your period wasn’t the one pissing you off, Toji certainly knew how to take up that position.

——————————————————————————

#what movie may have caused me to write this i wonder #toji x female reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji zenin #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #period sex #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x fem!reader

[uva124]

THE MOMENT WE WERE ALL WAITING FOR, FINALLY FINISHED THE DESIGN OF ASTER YESSSSSS ✨✨✨✨✨✨❤❤

This design belongs to the Wish rewrite called "The kingdom of wishes" (Written by @annymation and soon illustrated by @emillyverse and me)

Sorry for the delay, but this guy had so many things to draw and I also had a thousand ideas that it took me a while to capture them all (4 drawings wow, even I'm surprised lol)

Now after this introduction I will tell you the procedure of its design :]

2D MODEL:

-Maybe some don't notice it, but for the 2D drawing of Aster I didn't add many shadows, because in the classic Disney movies the animation doesn't have many shadows if we look closely, this is for several reasons (at that time they had to inking FRAME BY FRAME, can you imagine how much longer it would have taken to add detailed shadows? I really have respect for the animators)

(Here are some examples of what I'm trying to explain)

-As I said before, I didn't detach myself much from the concept art of the movie, I just added some other details that occurred to me, Anny and Emy.

-We decided that his cape would have the constellations of the signs of the zodiac (It was Emy's idea), which in the final result are on the cape, the constellations are noticeable more or less depending on Aster's mood.

-In the Wish rewrite it is mentioned that Aster's hair is like a candle (Reference to Hades) so I decided not to add the lineart in that part

His hair changes depending on his emotions, but not only that, but also his lineart, the calmer he is, the cleaner his animation will be, however with strong emotions (anger, sadness, nervousness) his details will be more neglected, especially when He is REALLY angry, by the way I made his hair look like a flame to give more drama to his design and also make a reference to Ember from Elemental

And as a final detail, the star-shaped gem that she has as a brooch changes color, just like her earrings.

3D MODEL:

-When Aster disguises himself as a human, his details on his clothes would disappear and the shape of his accessories would change to ones without a star shape, also the tone of yellow would look duller, you know so as not to draw attention (although he is dressed like a prince with a giant cape, the boy doesn't know how to hide the truth very well lmao)

-In general, it's just that the design becomes simpler, the only thing that changes is her hair that is no longer a flame, her freckles that are no longer little stars, her clothes no longer have so many details and her mark on her eye disappears(￣▽￣) .

By the way, I wanted to thank @the-autistic-idiot for giving us the great idea of ​​Aster having a star-shaped mark on his eye :D.

-Also, I think that those who have seen my other Wish redesigns are wondering why it seems like I had spit a rainbow at Aster's 3D drawings, what happened is that when I was painting my neurons said ✨Change your coloring✨ and well, The drawing in the end came out like this, although I honestly like it better, it better represents how I draw in a traditional way

Yes, basically the coloring of my drawings is as if a unicorn had spit on them lol

FINAL COMMENTS:

-It was very fun to draw Aster! The boy really has a lot of changes, but thanks to him I already discovered my digital drawing style so I am satisfied.

-Again sorry for the delay, I know that for many Aster must be their favorite character so I hope your wait was worth it :]

See you next time!✨✨

#disney wish #wish 2023 #disney #wish movie #sketch #wish #art #artists on tumblr #artwork #drawing #star wish #starboy #human star #wish star #starsha #star redesing #the kingdom of wishes #the kingdom of wishes fandom #the kingdom of wishes au #starboy wish #starboy x asha #asha and starboy #wish concept art #asha x star #wish asha #wish disney #disney fanart #disney movies #disney animation #walt disney animation studios

[sukimii]

Clingy

Tags: fuff, slight angst, foul language, touch-starved!Reader

Notes: Before reading any of my fics please read this first, thank you.

"Do you even love me?"

"Yes" your answer is immediate, with no hesitation. Of course, you love him, if you could write it in the sky you would. Yet now, the man you love is angry at you, with a mix of disappointment while you're on the verge of crying.

"Then why the fuck aren't you initiating shit?"

You know you should say something. You know you should open up and explain your behavior, but it's easier said than done. Because in the past, whenever you opened up no one listened. They either pretended not to hear or changed the topic of conversation. So you settled on pretending.

Over the years you became good at faking your moods and smiles. It came naturally for you to plaster a smile on your face and make it believable. You became good at pretending you were fine, when in fact you wanted nothing more than to have someone to listen. But no one ever did. No one cared enough to listen to the end, because as long as it doesn't concern them your insecurities are irrelevant.

"If I don't text you, you don't. If I don't call you, you don't. If I don't kiss you, you don't. Why the fuck are we in a relationship then?" The anger in his voice is deafening. It makes you want to crawl on yourself, wishing to disappear. You can feel his resentment in your bones. You know you should speak up, but your voice seems to be stuck in your throat.

"I didn't call you for three fucking days to see if you would. And guess what? You didn't!" Bakugou's eyes narrow on you, waiting for an answer that he will probably never get. "Why the fuck aren't you speaking?! Do you even give a shit about me? About our relationship?"

"I-I do care"

"Fucking bullshit." He scoffs, one hand dragging along the roots of his hair while the other one curled into a fist. "If you cared you would've reached for me. If you cared you would show it through your actions. If you cared-"

You can't listen to all your flaws.

He's listing the very same things people in your past had complained about. The sad part is that you already know the endgame, which only worsens the angst creeping up your back.

Bakugou is the only person you managed to fall in love with. He's the only one that makes you feel important, the only one that always waits for you. He is the first one that makes your heart beat so loud to the point of tuning out the world. He is the only one that keeps you on your toes. The only one that can awaken emotions buried in the depths of your heart and soul.

But now, having him complain about you was destroying your already fragile heart. All the wounds that you managed to somehow patch over the years are now ripped open again. It hurts. His words are like stabs, and you don't have the strength to listen. Because the man you love isn't willing to wait anymore.

You should've seen this coming. It was bound to happen. But your childish self, that small part of you that believes in hope, thought he was going to be the exception. You feel betrayed, by yourself. And you snap.

"BECAUSE YOU WILL HATE IT!"

Your breathing is heavy and ragged, tears already spilling down your cheeks while Bakugou is stunned to silence, watching you with both his eyebrows raised. Then he frowns.

"Why would I hate it?"

"Because everyone does, sooner or later." You can feel snot threatening to drip down your nose, and you sniff, using the abused napkin in your hand to wipe it. "You say now that you want me to do all those things, but as soon as I do you will get sick of me. So-" you choke back another sob, gathering your phone and bag. "It's best if we break up. Sorry for wasting your time" and with those final words, you get up from the table, intent on leaving his house.

It's always like this.

In every relationship that you had, it always ended up with them complaining about you. Something, at the end of the day, made you unable to satisfy them properly. There's always something wrong with you. You. You're your own reason why no one can ever stand you. Right now, all you want to do is get back to your house and cry out all your frustrations. But before you reach the handle, something tugs your other wrist, spinning you around into a hard chest.

"You're not going away, not when you're opening up. Fucking finally" Bakugou drags you back to the living room, this time on the couch. All your protests fall on deaf ears, even the attempts of pushing him away are an utter failure.

"Sit your ass down and start chirpin'."

To Bakugou it's clear that there is a problem, which might run deeper than he originally expected. So he waits for you to speak up.

Yet again, you seem to lose your voice, uncomfortable under his stare, and you look anywhere but at him.

After several beats of silence - disrupted by your sniffs in a poor attempt to not cry- Bakugou sighs. "If we- if you don't speak up, I don't know how to help you. I already have a feeling of what the problem might be, but I want you to tell me. I want to hear it from you."

You mull a little over his words, weighing down your options. The past experiences with childhood friends, exes, and family members, taught you to never expect anything from anyone. Sometimes people pretend to listen because their goal is to seem nice, but once they realize that the problem is nothing interesting, they drop the subject. And as much as you love Bakugou, you don't believe he'll be any different.

"There's nothing too important. It's exactly what I said it is. You think I don't want to hold your hand? You think I don't want to wrap my whole body on you like a koala all day? I crave physical touch, I crave it so bad, but I can't. I can't" as you keep spilling out your frustrations, your voice grows bitter and resentful. "Because you enjoy it in the beginning, but then you'll get sick of it and call me clingy, just like everyone else did! I know that after, you'll tell me to 'get a life', to 'go bother someone else' and I don't want it to happen again! Because I'll be the one getting heartbroken while you all keep surfing life as if you didn't stump on my stupid, useless feelings! You're no different from the others, once you get what you want then I hold no value in your eyes. Just another bitch to add to the fuck list no-" Bakugou is quick to cover your mouth with his palm, and you finally look at him.

He looks… sad. His eyes are soft, mouth pressed into a thin line as he looks at you with what you could describe as pity. But in reality, you couldn't be any farther from the truth, because Bakugou isn't pitying you. No. He understands you.

"We already fucked, two months ago. And I'm still here, aren't I?" His voice is gentle, probably the softest you've ever heard him. As if trying to soothe a wounded animal. It's endearing.

Blinking the heavy veil of unshed tears away, you give him a couple of nods.

"Do you really think I would do something like that to you? Do you think I would say to anybody that I love them?" his palm slides down your neck until it rests comfortably at the back of your head. With breath stuck in your lungs, you offer him a soft shake of your head, no. You don't think Bakugou is that type, but you never know.

"Do you have any idea of how much I want you to do all those things? Fuck- be a fucking leech for all I care, just-!" His forehead lightly bumps into yours, the tip of the nose rubbing a couple of times against yours. His eyes are transfixed into yours, and you can feel goosebumps raise on your whole body at the intensity of his stare.

"I don't care if I'm in an uncomfortable position. I don't care if you're all sweaty from working out or if I'm barely standing because of a rough day. I want you to do anything you want. You want to spoon me? Do it. You want to hold my hand in public? Do it. You want hugs when I'm busy? Do it. Fuckin' do it. I don't care. Fuck- I could be in the middle of an important call and I still wouldn't refuse your attention!" His head dips into the crook of your shoulder while leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.

"I don't care what shit-stain you dated before me, all I care about is for you to be comfortable with me. Do you understand?" His arms are circling your back, holding you tight, but not enough to cut the breath out of you. You sniff, suppressing another sob that threatens to come out.

"Y-yes"

"Then hug me" He gives you a squeeze, voice barely above a whisper. "Please"

You know that this doesn't count as a potential improvement since, again, Bakugou is the one that initiated the physical contact. But you oblige, wrapping your arms around his neck.

For several minutes, you bask in the silence, enjoying the comfort and warmth. Until Bakugou speaks again, voice partially muffled by your clothes.

"I noticed how different you are with that weir- Hatsume."

"She-" you clear your throat, trying to get rid of the ragged tone "she never pushed me away. Probably the only one that never did." you don't want to relieve the past, but with Bakugou seems right. Up until now, he showed nothing but understanding.

"There were times when I would visit her back when she was in UA. She didn't mind when I would sleep on her while she worked on her babies. One day I remember falling asleep on her back, and she didn't complain. She- she was the only one that never called me a bother."

"You didn't do anything too scared I would…" he trails, lifting a little his head just enough to see your eyes.

"Call me clingy." You finish for him. His arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer.

"Even my parents pushed me away. I used to seek physical attention all the time. If it were possible, I would stay with you like this all day, but I know it's impossible. And I don't want you to think that I-… I don't want to be a burden. An inconvenience. I don't want you to hate me because of that. So I give you space. I let you initiate everything on your own terms because I'm scared of being annoying."

Bakugou listens. He knows that if he speaks you might try to make the conversation take a detour. So he waits for you to continue.

"I used to like sleepovers. I used to beg my parents to let me sleep at a friend's house. But then they told me no because I would be a bother, and that people are too nice to tell me that. Even holding hands was something I enjoyed, until someone slapped my hand away."

That detail doesn't sit right with Bakugou, and whoever slapped your hand was already on his piss-the-fuck-off list.

"Is this why you keep refusing to stay the night?" When you nod, Bakugou feels like the heaviest stone has just been lifted from his chest. When he slept with you for the first time, he asked you to stay over. It was late, and dark outside, and letting you wander the streets where danger lurked wasn't something he was keen on. Plus, it would give him more time to spend with you. But when you got up and dressed, turning down his offer saying that you were busy the next day, he walked you home.

The second time, again, you shut him down. He tried to be understanding. At the time, he couldn't understand why you refused to crash at his place when he did overstay at yours. At first, he thought you didn't like his apartment, or that you didn't feel comfortable enough. So, he bought a couple of plants, hoping that it will ease you, and stuffed his bathroom with products he saw at yours. He made sure to put hairclips and hair ties near the sink, in a pink-stained glass bowl. And different types of pads were stashed in the first drawer, just in case. He also added some décor, similar to your aesthetic, but even that didn't work. Despite your compliments, saying that you loved the changes he made, it still wasn't enough to make you stay.

Another time he tried again was three weeks ago. He tried his hardest to fuck you stupid, he hoped that six hours of constant sex will tire you out enough that you will cave, and finally spend the night at his. He tried different positions that he knew would strain your legs. Positions that will weaken your body, and time for you to recover were minimal. If he was generous, only a minute before he went at it again. Despite all his efforts, you still went home. Bruised, body screaming in pain at the effort, and on the verge of passing out, you asked him to take you home. And Bakugou, at that point, began to think that maybe you didn't love him.

He became self-conscious. Because why else wouldn't you want to spend more time with him? Why would you only have sex and then drop out as soon as you felt like sleeping?

Yet that theory wasn't exactly making sense, because the very next day you asked him to stay over at yours.

But now, Bakugou understands. He now knows what the problem is, and he has to admit that you told him way more than he originally expected. He's glad you did so, it's a step in the right direction, and he believes that improvements will happen soon.

One hand moves on the back of your head, cradling you closer while his lips ghost the skin right below your ear.

"Let's take baby steps" he murmurs, leaving a feathery kiss on the side of your neck. Your arms hook around his shoulders, leaning into him.

"Stay tonight" He feels your body tense up, and before you can utter a word -already knowing what you were going to say, he squeezes you, silently adding the 'please' that was lingering on the tip of his tongue.

When he feels your body relax in his hold, and a soft 'ok' leaves your lips, Bakugou allows himself to smile, happy with the outcome.

#bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou imagine #bnha bakugou #mha katsuki #bnha imagines #bnha bakugō #bakugo x reader

[flowersadida]

I know people have already talked about this topic, but I want to too.

There are a lot of jokes on the Internet about how Katara constantly mentions her mother as if it were the most important event, but...

Isn't that so? I mean, in the life of a little eight-year-old girl, this is truly the most important event in her life and she wants to share it.

Katara took on the role of an adult too early, and she didn't have the opportunity to work through this problem with anyone, because she's already an adult => she cannot afford to rely on someone. But she needs it, and that's what traveling with Aang gives her: the opportunity to find children like her and share with them the burden that she has been carrying all this time. Note that Haru, Jet, and even Zuko are people who not only have experienced loss, but also have some kind of responsibility for others: for their family or even for a group of people. She doesn't tell adults about this because she isn't looking for care, she's looking for understanding of her feelings.

The problem is that it's not enough for her. Her sadness turns to rage because the further the story goes, the less satisfied Katara becomes.

The closer the heroes get to the end of the war, the more angry Katara gets: first at her father, then more specifically at Zuko. And, in the end, she finds the cause of this anger, as well as the opportunity to satisfy the thirst for understanding of her grief - the murderer of her mother. She needed revenge not just because it was fair, but because from the very beginning of the series, Katara was looking for an opportunity to calm those feelings that were rushing out. And her attempts to do this by expressing the problem were not enough. She needed more, and she got it by facing the biggest monster in her life.

In general, the “monster” metaphor obviously speaks not only about Yon Ra, but also about Katara herself. Or rather about her anger. Judge for yourself: she had to restrain a storm of emotions from the age of eight; she began to reveal her grief only in the first season, that is, at the age of 14. She ignored her pain, pushing it deep inside until it became a raging monster rushing out. And what Katara really needed was to face it. So when she flies to find Yon Ra, she also finally meets the version of herself that she has carefully ignored and hidden for the benefit of others.

It's funny that Zuko is the one who helps her. In general, it was his complete understanding of Katara in this matter that amazed me. He, like no one else, knows what it’s like to face your inner demons and knows how useful it is for knowing yourself. And how dangerous it is when you're alone in it. So he accompanies her to keep her safe. So that she has a person on her side who will be there, no matter what choice she makes. He will support anyone. (I'm crying because of how beautiful it is wasgffv💖)

(A small antikataang insert: this is the reason why their relationship doesn't work. Aang only supports the right decisions, even if they require Katara to sacrifice inner harmony, while Zuko will simply support her for whatever choice she makes. It's funny because Aang has to keep balance and as a monk he knows a lot about that. The show focuses heavily on the theme of yin and yang, that is, the balance of good and evil. In order to achieve internal balance, Katara needed to turn to internal evil, because she tilted this scale towards good. She was imbalanced to begin with, and instead of understanding this, Aang insisted on continuing the preponderance of good. It’s as if he doesn’t understand that the preponderance of good is as bad as the preponderance of evil, and this will only harm Katara. I hope my point is clear)

Finally, Katara finds inner peace when she faced everything that was raging inside her, when she did what she needed and poured out everything she ever wanted. Every word about her mother led us to this moment, as did Katara herself.

And do you know what the point is? Why am I telling all this? It's all a character arc that unfolds linearly over three seasons.

Now think back to the arc of Aang, the main character of the show, in relation to his family. Did he bring them up in seasons two and three in a way that was linear? I mean, the one who constantly grieves over his father's death should have been Aang, because he learned the pain of loss so recently, he didn't have a chance to get used to it. But even in the episode SR, Aang compares the loss of mother not to the loss of his mentor and father, but to the loss of Appa and his people. It’s as if he doesn’t care about the individual connection with Gyatso and it’s nominal.

Katara, on the other hand, has emotions that she smoothly carries throughout the show and resolves in it. She has a huge number of Chekhov's guns, which each fire at its own time. Her feelings about her mother, the development of these emotions and their resolution are the most beautiful thing about this show along with Zuko's arc (even though I have problems with him in book 3).

And making derogatory jokes about it like Katara is whining and annoying is blasphemy. After all, she's the only one of the Gaang who has a single development arc throughout all three seasons, this must be respected

#atla #atla critical #avatar the last airbender #atla meta #anti kataang #anti aang #katara #zuko #zutara #katara supremacy #katara is the real main character change my mind #katara deserved better #katara meta #southern raiders

[h0rnyauth0r]

just thinking about being pinned between ghost and könig, who can’t get enough of using you :3

THIS PROBABLY ISNT ANY GOOD BUT I GOT HORNY AND WANTED TO WRITE FILTH AGAIN :) thank you for reading!!!!

word count: 1.2k

warnings: double penetration, reader w/ vagina and i think she/her implied, cumming inside, threesome, very very dirty and rushed tbh

you’re not sure how the moment came around where the tension and anger between ghost and könig became resolved after all this time, but you can’t help but be relieved that you can finally spend time with them this afternoon and feel comfortable.

they’ve both spent time doting on you, offering help with different tasks you want to complete and to bring you different things as you may need them. but now? they’re both awfully close to you, faces covered as they practically trap you while talking about what different desires you hold within.

you’re not sure how the topic even got brought up, but needless to say, you mentioned masked men and it seemingly piqued their interest in you after. neither are too good at expressing emotion, but you can sense just how horny every person in this room is right now.

you would be 100% lying if you didn’t say the idea of the two of these large men defiling you makes your pussy run like a river, and you are craving one of them to just do something to make the built up tension finally snap between the three of you.

“you like mystery? anonymity?” ghost’s asking you, and you nod embarrassedly. having the two of them know things about you that you don’t really tell others is overwhelming you in the most filthy way.

“are you okay with being shared?” könig asks you, voice behind you and right in your ear. you quickly nod in hopes of them both taking the hint and finally having their way with you.

you whimper aloud when ghost’s hands grip your thighs intensely, könig gripping onto your ass as the two men fondle your body with their large hands in sync.

they waste no time in stripping your clothes off, ghost working on your top half and könig stripping your bottom half in a teasingly slow manner once you’re left in just some panties.

he plays with your waistband for a moment, slapping the elastic against your skin repeatedly and eventually sliding his fingers in to caress your clit gently. you squeal and squirm when he pinches it just as ghost opts to knead at your tits and play with your nipples, the stimulation overwhelming you and soaking your panties completely.

könig finally helps slide your panties down your body and they slap onto the floor with a soft wet sound, the two men looking at you with almost animalistic eyes knowing just what impact they have on you now.

“that wet already, huh? guess you like being used like a slut.” ghost’s voice is lustful and oh so hot as he opts to get his dick out and ready to go into you.

könig stops him though, fingers teasing at your wet hole and gathering up your wetness before dipping them into your other hole. you moan from the foreign feeling, his fingers slowly making their way into your ass as your pussy clenches around nothing.

your eyes clamp shut as he works you open, ghost opting to play with your clit to you get prepped to take them both. the feeling that both of them are giving you has you wanting more, legs feeling wobbly and unholy noises escaping your throat.

it isn’t long before both of them are satisfied with your drooling cunt and finally line themselves up, ghost entering first. your eyes roll to the back of your head when he’s in all the way, almost screaming out when könig starts to push in as well.

you’ve never felt so full before, tears streaming down your face and you know you’re on the verge of an orgasm already. they both give you a moment to get used to the sensation, ghost whispering into your ear about how good you are and how well you take them.

after a little while, you start to grow impatient with their stillness. “please move.” you whine out head falling back against könig’s broad shoulders.

when they both initially thrust, your mouth falls open and your eyes clench shut tightly. you can’t help the pornographic noises that come out of your mouth as they find their rhythm together, slapping noises echoing off of the walls.

“you’re doing so good- fuck.” ghost’s voice is strained as he attempts to praise you, a low growl escaping his throat as he picks up his pace. his pelvis hits against your clit from his movements, pleasure tingling up your spine from the friction.

könig’s breathy moans and groans really get you going, feeling his hands grip onto your hips tightly as he fucks into your ass with fervor. you feel like you’re about to cum at any moment, body twitching and muscles giving up against their bodies.

when ghost reaches in between your bodies and rubs your clit in fast and tight circles you cum with a loud moan, pussy clamping against him as your orgasm racks through your whole body with an intensity you’ve never felt before.

“such a good pussy.” he mumbles into your ear as he coaxes you through your orgasm.

the man behind you hums in agreement to those words despite being balls deep in your ass, still grunting with each hard thrust he takes. “feels amazing.” is all he can say, words coming out in a groan that you find so very attractive.

it isn’t long before you can tell that they’re both close to cumming, thrusts becoming labored and more desperate. könig cums in you first, a whine coming out of his mouth that makes you flush and you unintentionally clench against ghost as a result. 

as könig pulls out, ghost finally cums inside of you with a shudder. the force behind his thrusts and the feeling of his cum filling your cunt have you crying now, so much pleasure to the point where you feel like you’re broken and your brain can’t work anymore.

when his thumb starts playing with your clit again, you feel like you’re going to implode from how pathetically quick you cum against his fingers as he pulls his dick out of you. cum is leaking out of both holes and does even more so as your orgasm pushes through.

könig plays with your tits as you finally feel some clarity again, going limp against his chest and feeling a tiredness that practically incapacitates you. you can hear ghost move and head into your bathroom, the sound of the sink being turned on, but you can’t open your eyes.

the large austrian behind you holds your weight, a hand gently caressing your hair and massaging your scalp. you feel like you could pass out at any moment as ghost comes out.

the feeling of a warm, wet washcloth gently wiping at your body makes you jump before you relax into it appreciatively. “thank you.” you whisper to him, voice hoarse.

“of course.” he says, gently slapping your ass before you feel könig carry you to your bed and lay you down. they’re both sweet with the way they comfort you and eventually tuck you under your blankets.

you’re out before you can say anything to them, falling asleep to the sound of their hushed voices and hoping that this wasn’t some sort of one time thing that wouldn’t occur ever again.

-

taglist: @wwwurmomdotcom @kovieky @chibijusstuff @clove-shitposts

send me a dm or ask if you want to be added/removed from my taglist!

#call of duty smut #cod #female reader #x reader #call of duty #cod smut #smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #könig #könig x reader #könig smut #könig cod

[tuhtofu]

cw: sub alhaitham, dom reader, gn reader, mild dacryphilia, enemies with sexual tension gone right, foot jobs, hand jobs, choking, begging, light sadism, coming in pants, dumbification

wc: 1.6k

Summary: Sometimes, even the scribe of the Akademiya needs a reminder of where he belongs.

You hate Alhaitham. 

 

You hate the way he carries himself with that arrogant air surrounding him, and each time he opens his mouth, you want to punch a hole into his skull. It’s such a pity for a man as handsome as he is, but you’ve grown used to it. 

 

Due to your field of work, and how well the two of you work professionally, you are constantly assigned to partner up with him. The both of you are very dedicated to the task at hand and usually, whatever annoying remark he throws at you, you can handle. Unfortunately, you’re not always in a good mood, and Alhaitham, being around you so often, always seems to know it. To him, that’s the best time to push your buttons.  

 

Today was one of those days. You and Alhaitham were assigned to work through and sort out different documents and archives, and prepare materials for a meeting between the sages of the Akademiya. “Where should I place the documents about the Knowledge Capsules?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. 

 

“One as skilled as yourself should know something so simple,” he replied with a slight scoff. Oh, here we go again. 

 

“My foolishness doesn’t comprehend the talent of a scribe such as yourself, hence my question being directed to you. O mighty scribe, would you fucking answer it already?” you say, standing up to wave the documents in his face. Despite knowing you were playing into his cards, entertaining him with your reactions, you couldn’t help but express your annoyance. You’ve had a long day, and playing games was not something you were in the mood to do. 

 

Grabbing your wrist, he looks up at you with a slight smirk. “Come now, there’s no need to be so emotional. The point of a discussion is to arrive at a conclusion, is it not?”

 

“Then quit your attempts at patronizing me all the time. I’m not in the mood to play games,” you reply, snatching your wrist off of his hold. 

 

“Is that so. Well, let’s get back to work then, shall we? Considering you’re the one who interrupted me, after all.” He looked back down at his papers, seemingly satisfied with his reply. You swore he looked like he was about to burst with laughter from your anger. He was mocking you. 

 

“I fucking hate you.” 

 

“Mhm,” he replied absent-mindedly, going back to sorting out his own documents laid on the table. 

 

You’ve had enough of him. Reaching out with the hand that wasn’t holding your papers, you grabbed Alhaitham’s jaw roughly, making him look up at you. Gods, he was so pretty it only served to irritate you further. There was a hint of surprise that disappeared as soon as it appeared. 

 

“Look at me when I fucking speak to you. It’s proper etiquette, isn’t it?” To your annoyance, he started grinning. He clearly thinks he’s won. 

 

“I’ll kill you,” you spoke again. 

 

“Go ahead.” 

 

There was a moment of silence between you, your eyes locking with his. Even now, with him looking up at you from his chair, his cheeks being squished together roughly, he was trying to win, to assert dominance. 

 

Fuck it. 

 

Fuck him.  

 

You lean down and smash your lips to his, and he lets out a yelp that was almost inaudible, having once again been caught by surprise. He gave in quicker than you thought though, shutting his eyes and kissing you back with a sloppy hunger you weren’t expecting from him. 

 

Alhaitham was an intelligent man. Was he expecting this? Did you play into his cards again? Deciding to enjoy the moment rather than dwell on it, you bit his bottom lip before going back to kissing him with fervor, licking his lips as if to ask for access to his tongue only to pull away once his mouth opened for you. 

 

Panting, you looked at each other with half lidded eyes. Fuck, his lips looked so glossy and inviting, you wanted to dive back in, but unfortunately, that thought dissipated the moment he opened his mouth to speak. 

 

“If you wanted me this badly all along, you could’ve just told me,” he breathed, speaking as if he didn’t look debauched from a single kiss already. 

 

Sliding your hand downwards, you took hold of his neck, and leaned in to whisper. “You know... It’s about time someone puts you in your place, you arrogant mutt.”

 

Fuck, your words were so harsh, and since when did you look so dominating, looking down at him like that? And why did it make his dick throb? In an attempt to regain his composure, he cleared his throat as he spoke, “Is that so? Enlighten me, how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

 

“My dear scribe, I trust someone as smart as you would know. After all,” you prod his legs open with your knee, before lifting it and placing your shoe on the base of his erection and nudging it. “You’re already hard. Do you like this treatment?”

 

Looking down at where your foot met him, he gulped before attempting to look up at you again, only to turn his head to the side at the way you stared down at him. Dissatisfied with the lack of response, you applied pressure to his balls, making him jerk up and look at you with widened eyes. 

 

“H-hey, how about we get back to work now…” He cringed at the way his voice came out, shaky and breathless, but the smirk forming on your face and the way you’d been touching him only made him harder.

 

“How about no? It’s true, Alhaitham. I did want you all along. I’ve been dying to see you like this. How could I not?” You lean into his ear, continuing as he tried his hardest not to squirm, “The way you speak just screams of someone who wants to be put in their place. And don’t get me started on how you flaunt that tiny waist and those tits of yours with the tight clothes you wear.”

 

You could see the goosebumps forming on his muscular arms from the proximity of the two of you and your hot breath on his sensitive ears. He opened his mouth to speak, but he could only breathe out heavy puffs of air as you lifted his head up by his throat and began to leave open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. 

 

“Go ahead, tell me how badly you’ve longed for this. There’s no need to keep putting up a front, I’ve already seen how perverted you are. See?” You look down, and his eyes follow yours only to find that he’s been subconsciously humping your shoe. Fuck, if he felt pathetic before, he feels like a complete degenerate now. But… he couldn’t stop. His mind was becoming hazy from everything, and he didn’t care anymore.

 

“I want this. It feels so good. Please,” he breathed, watching as the precum leaking from his slit started to form a wet spot in his pants from the delicious friction.

 

“There you go darling, good job,” you whispered, and finally decided to help the poor thing out by moving your foot along with his thrusts, causing him to buck up and let out a whimper that surprised the both of you with how desperate it sounded.

 

Moving your hand from his neck to the back of his head, you pulled it backwards, and Alhaitham let out a hiss in response, but the way his hips sped up told you how much he enjoyed it as you smashed your lips to his once more. Your other hand traveled along his torso, leaving feather-like touches all over it, contrasting the desperation and roughness of your makeout. 

 

Not daring to pull away, Alhaitham moaned into your mouth before muttering incomprehensible words. For a man like himself, he was surprisingly needy and quite adorable. It made you melt a little on the inside. You took the initiative to pull away first so he could speak, looking at him as he attempted to catch his breath.

 

Aw. His eyes were getting teary.

 

Cupping his face gently, you let him speak. “I’m s-so close. Wanna cum. Gonna cum,” he panted, words all slurred as he got drunk on the pleasure you were so graciously providing him.

 

“You can ask me nicely, can’t you? One as skilled as yourself should know something so simple,” you mocked, and his face burned with embarrassment as the knot in his tummy kept getting closer and closer to snapping. He liked it. It felt good being the one who’s played with.

 

“Please. Please let me cum, I need it. Please?” Gods, the desperation in his eyes as the tears finally started falling sent jolts down your spine. Hearing him finally beg like he was made for it felt so much better than all the times you’d fantasized about it.

 

Pulling him in for one last kiss, this one gentler as you left small pecks all over his plump lips, you removed your shoe from its place, causing Alhaitham to jolt his hips into thin air as he whined. He quickly went quiet though, because you replaced it with your hand, cupping his cock and rubbing it in tandem with his thrusts. You’d graced him with something better to rut against and it made him go dizzy as he whispered chants of thank you’s into your lips, attempting to catch them into a kiss but ultimately failing.

 

“Go ahead, cum for me like the dumb puppy you are,” you whispered back, helping him connect his lips to yours while his mind went on auto-pilot and his hips stuttered before he came into his pants with a loud moan.

 

Helping him ride his high out, his eyes had shut from the intensity of his own orgasm, but your thumb rubbing his tears away from his flushed cheeks caused him to open them once more to the sight of his cum having seeped through his pants and your hand being stained.

 

Absent-mindedly, he took hold of your wrist and started licking your hand free from his own filth, wincing at the taste of himself but being too out of it to care.

 

You really hate Alhaitham.

And now you hate how the beautiful face he makes when he orgasms would be etched into your mind permanently.

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