#but nothing terribly bad is happening either

[persphonesorchid]

Connotations Of Sin - JHS x Reader || Teaser ||

Summary: At your lowest, you’ve been living on the streets for the past couple of months. When you decide to leave your only safe haven and find yourself lost in a mysterious fog, an angel stretches out a hand of mercy. Little do you know, black taints his once alabaster wings.

Genre: Fallen Angel au | Angst, fluff, smut, horror ( V Lowkey, i swear)

Warnings: None for the teaser besides a little intimidation :) Full fic warnings will be on the official post ^^

Notes: I accidentally posted this last month LMAO (I cried) Thankfully I think only like one person saw it. Okay!! hi, hello, welcome! This is what i dropped off the grid to write hehe, it's a labor of love....or something. This bad boi here gets very dark, but, I will warn accordingly on the official post ^^. This fic is also in collaboration with the loml @hwaslayer !! Her new Seonghwa series takes place within this universe and I'm so so so happy to have been part of the project! (We've been slaving for months lmao) Please look out for the drop of her series (It lands in June) and be excited because she has so much planned! Tags are open for this fic if you'd like to be notified!

TBP : 19.05.24

You don’t understand him. In the short time you’ve known him, he’s like a square that’s trying to fit into a circle. The circle is too round to accommodate his sharp edges, but he somehow manages to get just half of the square through, even if the circle is struggling to contain it.

Not to mention the weird things that’s happened within the half hour you’ve been awake, things he’s yet to explain to you. Matter of fact, strange things has been happening since you left Abigail. The police officer, the fog, and whatever the hell was out there in it with you. You’re not even sure if that was real either.

You feel like if you focus on it, you’ll go crazy. So your mind does the only thing it can do to protect itself – pushes it away into a corner to mull over later along with everything else.

“I’d rather not.” You no longer feel the need to show him gratitude. You feel stupid, for one, why did you think trusting a random stranger would be a good thing?

Hoseok shrugs, dropping the half-eaten toast back onto the plate. He walks around you, close enough that the hairs on the back of your neck stands on end, that the warning bells are going crazy in your head again.

It’s uncomfortable being this close. The reaction is visceral, unable to ignore and you wonder why you hadn’t felt it the night before. Why you’d manage to follow him all the way here and not noticed. Maybe you had, briefly and in little moments that were small enough for you to brush them off.

You watch him watch you as he circles you like a vulture, “What are you?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was human?” He asks from behind you, and it feels like a terrible idea to have your back to him. He sounds amused, like this is nothing but a little game to him – just something to pass time while he’s bored.

As he rounds your right, your eyes meet the darkness of his. “You’re not.” It would be strange if you still thought he was after everything that’s happened already.

Hoseok hums, a twinkle lighting his eyes, “Perceptive, aren’t we?” There’s something like pride in his voice but you’re not sure what it’s for, “What do you think I am?”

“You expect me to guess correctly?” The difference in your height does nothing to stop you from glaring at him. He tilts his head at you, dark locks of his hair swaying against his forehead gently.

“No.” Hoseok smiles, “But it’ll make things interesting. I like games; play along.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his tone and the darkness in his eyes. He takes a step away from you and it feels like you can finally take a breath. His movements are fluid as he pulls the dining chair out from below the table. He sits gracefully, propping his chin in his palm as he watches you expectantly.

“Do you want a hint?” He asks, smiling sweetly.

“Why don’t you just tell me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You’re tired of whatever game he’s playing at, sick of the fear that keeps you standing still as he stares you down.

Tagging: @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @astormunchar @eren-fall @taestefully-in-luv @bangtansmauyeondan @xpeachesncream @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @eoieopda @mssukeyna @euphoricfilter

#persphonesorchid #jhope #jung hoseok #jung hoseok x reader #bts jhope #bts #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts hobi #bts hoseok #j hope bts #upcoming fic #coming soon

[dynjir]

Wow.

I really feel like I'm starting a clean slate this year. Like I'm starting a new chapter of my life.

#dyntalks #I'm quitting my job soon #my relationship reached an end #no weird feelings towards anything anymore #everything feels like #things are going to a default blank #nothing terribly good is happening #but nothing terribly bad is happening either #just nothing but a strange but welcome neutrality #:') #after my job ends #I think I'll take a small break #before I start working towards the future again

[hella1975]

im so easy when it comes to immoral characters like okay do you bear your pain terribly? get behind me

#fandom is looking at a traumatised guy and going 'they deserved better' #but let me fucking TELL you if that guy goes on to let their trauma absolutely mutilate them then im gonna be there #bad victims etc etc #bear it terribly. bear it ugly and mean. bear it with your teeth stained by innocents that had nothing to do with the slaughter #let it make you worse. lash out. kick down. become the terrible thing #im defending that guy until the end of time #touya todoroki #andrew minyard #touya is the closest anyone has come to andrew in a very long time for me when it comes to this #like andrew is THEE baseline of this ive never seen anything like the way he does it #he was treated terribly and it made him terrible. shamelessly. he took the bad thing and decided to be worse for it #and while it's unsustainable in a person it's so fucking cathartic for a reader to just see that happening despite the tragedy of it #it's touya stood over his abuser and ripping his world apart with his bare hands while laughing #because he spent 10 years in hell for this moment. this single moment. and the audience and the characters call him a monster #it's andrew threatening his own cousin at knifepoint to defend a stranger's integrity simply because that is one of andrew's lines #and you do not cross them. no one ever will again. and the audience and the characters call him a monster #it's watching people who were treated awfully refuse to swallow that pain. refuse to forgive. refuse to move on #it's watching them embrace the wreckage of it and self-destruct either in one glorious explosion or gradually over years #because they are willingly choosing to live this way instead of getting over it. they are rejecting healing with their eyes open #because they were hurt so badly that healing now seems like a denial of that pain #and then u get to read fanfiction where they heal and are acknowledged for what they suffered and u cry and cry and cry <3

[puppyeared]

footnotes arent enough I need you to talk to me like im fucking Amelia Bedelia

#this isn’t about anything in particular btw. I just have to add a lot of memos when I’m doing things because some things are done a certain #way and it isn’t explained well in the instructions. like my mom has instructions on her baking recipes right #but when it says stuff like add dry ingredients to wet ingredients it also means you don’t dump it in one go you add it slowly by portion #this is probably why I find videos and demonstrations the most helpful when I learn something. like I almost always ask someone to show me #how they do it because there could be something they do that’s already second nature and wouldn’t really be considered in an explanation yk #I don’t think I’m an exception either. when the rice is done cooking I divide it into 4 quarters to bless it #but there are a million ways to divide rice and it makes me think that one persons way of doing it or not doing it all is just as valid #theres also technically no wrong way to divide rice afaik. this means either all ways of dividing rice is safe or valid until we find some #universally terrible way of dividing rice. until that happens nobody really thinks about specifying HOW you divide the rice #source: I have anxiety starting and doing things for the first time because I got way too many people yell at me NONONO WHAT ARE YOU DOING #THATS WRONG while I’m in the middle of doing the thing. I would rather have people think I’m either very stupid or overly specific #than go thru the panic inducing fear of ‘YOURE DOING THIS WRONG OMG WHY DIDNT YOU ASK AHEAD OF TIME THIS WILL BE FUCKED UP FOREVER’ 🧍 #nothing wrong if you don’t give something a second thought because you’re so used to it. but I can and will ask about it and I don’t think I #really should feel bad about it if I don’t know enough to dispute it. idk #the other way around I try to be as specific as possible and word things in a way that people who might not get where I’m coming from will #understand. but the problem with that is my explanations tend to be lengthy and I lose them either way 🗿 #Im. trying to work on that using examples and stuff because they seem to work the best #but if I could write everything down on a word doc and beam it into your melon that would save both of us time and embarassment #im rambling the short version is I have adhd #yapping

[caterpillarinacave]

So you choose not to step through the door, after all why mess with nonsense when you're already in nonsense? You check the items in your pockets, your phone you shut off to conserve power, the dog tag, key and top clink together but offer no help, and when you fiddle with the walkie-talkie you manage to get it to turn on, excitedly you call out to the void but only static responds, which is disappointing but predictable, so you put the items away and hunker down for the night, looking at the sky you can see that the stars seem strange, though you're no expert, and the moon seems to have a second smaller moon near it which looks pretty cool but is a stark reminder of how not on your own world your predicament has landed you.

In the morning you begin looking through the nearby bushes and plant life taking note of anything strange, you notice the berries you had been picking before you stepped through the door are also growing around here, they look and taste the same, and some other plants seem pretty similar to the forest from before as well, although the further away from the door you go the more unfamiliar plants you come across (of course that may just be your lack of familiarity with plants) and the few animals you have noticed are bizarre in a way that you can't explain, like the people from town, they seem almost perfectly familiar, just a little off and the noises they make have you thinking they wouldn't be able to communicate with their counterparts either, brushing aside another branch you come across a strange funnel made of metal which you pocket and what looks to be a regular whistle, you wipe it down and blow but hear nothing aside from the air going through, you consider it is either broken or maybe a dog whistle, as you go to put it away you hear something big running in your direction, before you can decide how to react a large creature storms out of the bushes and stops in the clearing before you, it's huge as a horse with paws and sharp teeth it licks as it looks around and spots you, it shakes its head again reminding you of a horse, then steps closer before turning and staring expectantly, you get the feeling it's waiting on you, impatiently, and you realize it seems to expect you to get on its back. Do you get on?

Yes.

#I am a terrible terrible Irish child #Clearly all those folk tales whose only moral was “don’t climb on the strange horse” were lost on me. Technically not a horse though. So. H #Uh please don’t run into the bog with my on your back strange horse thing. #…This may be one of my worse ideas #On one hand moving away from what appears to be the only connection my world doesn’t sound like a great idea #Back through the door is logically the the best bet. However I’ve already explored the area #The only thing to do would be to just sit there for hours and that will get me nowhere. The things that do have leads like the walkie- #Sputtering are things to pay attention to but not things that are likely to change if I don’t move. The whistle is the newest thing- #And let’s be real I’ve been in the bramble for like 14 hours without the neurospicy meds I am teetering on dangerously antsy #Probably better to get on the horse before I come up with something more stupid #It’s interesting my world flora seems to surround the door. I wish I’d payed more attention before I stepped through #If the nearby flora on the other side seemed like it would come from this world it would suggest that the door just leaks between universes #In two ways. If it’s earths flora then it’s either only leaking one way which we could no from one step through #Or - which we will not know but should pay attention for if we step into some other world - if the earths flora shows up around EVERY porta #Which would suggest earth is the base in some way #It might be beneficial to climb a tree to try and see farther out #Though I don’t exactly get many opurtunited to haul myself up a tree so I would put to much stock in a)my upper body strength #And b) my ability to chose a tree that won’t kill me #It’s defintley worth taking in as much info as possible. I’ll try and notice things like different winds gravity tempature ect #What should i tag this all. Help I got lost in a blackberry bush? Anon who takes me to alternate planes of reality? #I know #Guys I got lost in a bush #That’s a good one. Nothing weird there at all. #FINE I’ll rage it “guys I got lost in a blackberry bush” #I wonder what makes things so familiar. Perhaps this world exists very closely to the other. Perhaps they’ve crossed paths before. #Perhaps they’ve shown up in our dreams. Perhaps I have bad memory and my brain gaslights itself into thinking everything’s familiar #I wonder maybe the horse is a horse/dog thing- that would explain the likeness to the dog whistle (?) #This can’t get any worse I say doing something that could very much make it worse #Eh what’s the worst that can happen. At least I don’t have to pay taxes in this world #Guys I got lost in a black berry bush

[nerdyqueerr]

Warrior nun. Augh

#if i had a nickel for every time a jesus figure wanted to sacrifice herself for a girl but the girl didnt want her to #is it niche or are wlw just like that #walks up to a gay couple which one of you is the self sacrificing jesus figure and which one of you is refusing the sacrifice #anyways praise god and kick ass nothing bad happens in this show ever #tbh just when im thinking of getting emotional theres either a banging fight scene or a display of terrible cgi and i feel better #warrior nun #wn spoilers

[ranboolivesaysstuff]

IMPORTANT POST PLEASE READ

Im gonna be honest and open for a sec, and please do not take this as "oh I HATE my community or I dont like the people who watch me" but honestly as of late (and I did highlight this during the mcc bit), ive felt like I havent been able to really be in my own community simply because of the constant way that "discourse" is handled. Making vague posts and not really tackling issues in a good way, all that is going to do is just show people a big "THIS COMMUNITY BAD" sign and not actually help anything within the community, all its going to do is have the good and potentially good people leave or not join in the first place. The way that discourse is treated that ive seen has been the main reason why I have started to try to distance myself, which has been the most heartbreaking thing I have had to do. I want problems to be solved in a mature, civil way, with either a dm or a reply, not an entire vague thing that only says "bad things are happening" and doesnt elaborate on anything or barely elaboratesa and only gives people on both the inside and outside a bad sign of what the community is. Making posts whenever something happens being like "here we go again" is only going to highlight the wrong things, and actually DOESNT help the issue at all! The problems should be discussed directly with the people who are doing said problems FIRST! Bring attention to behaviors and things that arent good DIRECTLY! And also, YOU DO NOT HAVE TO!!! It is not your duty as a viewer or fan of me to be involved in any of this if you do not want to! Just enjoy the content and make silly posts! As someone who constantly tried to fix and get into every problem as it was happening, it took a huge toll on my mental health, and I want you guys to just be able to enjoy the content without having to worry about what you say about it! Be constructive! Dont make posts again just being like "wow this community is so bad" because that doesnt solve literally anything! If you have enough passion to make the posts saying "wow this community is bad" then only post about that, you are only spreading that negative message, and not uplifting anything of actual value! And if the person you are trying to help is not willing or not listening, BLOCK! MUTE! DONT BRING MORE ATTENTION TO THE PERSON IF THEY ARE NOT BEING A GOOD PART OF THE COMMUNITY!!!! I know I say that if I see problems I will call them out, but I shouldnt have to babysit every single time a thing happens within the community as that just isnt a healthy way for a creator or a community to be handled. This does not mean that I do not care about the issues or dont want them fixed, rather it shouldnt take me having to make some grand statement every single time something happens it should take only your own self reflection and self awareness. And to add onto this, make sure that every once in a while no matter who you are you think and have that self reflection, you should be open to being willing to learn and grow as a person! And again, I do NOT want anyone taking this as "Wow this community is terrible" but rather that we just have things that need to be fixed and changed and THAT IS OKAY! I do not hate the community, I care so much about it that I want it to be a silly place for my content again! I want it to be the reason why people get into what I do because of it again! And I want to be able to just have fun and relax without having to worry about how every single thing that I may say could have someone stirring things up that simply dont help or solve anything! Take care of yourselves. And this isnt coming from a place of "I hate the community as a whole" but rather again I want to be able to exist and make content that we can all enjoy without having to worry about walking on eggshells around me or around eachother! At the end of the day im just a fella that wants to make silly videos for you all, and you are people who enjoy said videos. Nothing more. Nothing less.

[sinisterintuition]

.

(tw self destructive behavior)

#i have terrible shin splints and something is wrong with my foot but i can’t bring myself to care about me or my wellbeing enough #to do anything about it #so i just keep dancing even though im in pain #and the rare occasion that i’m not drowning in self hatred and ask a teacher if i can modify or put on leg warmers or some shit #my fucking lack of object permanence makes me think i’m just faking it #im so tired i’m so fucking tired of being like this #im constantly in pain and it feels like as soon as i do something i’m magically not in pain anymore and i’m really just faking #because i want attention but i’m not even getting attention everyone always forgets about me #i hate this i just want to either always be in pain or always not i can’t deal with this #i’m so unstable nothing ever stays the same it’s constantly changing and i hate it so much #something will hurt so bad in the morning when i get up that i can barely walk and all day it’ll hurt until the moment i say something #then it somehow immediately is better as though it never hurt in the first place and i fucking hate it #i never even know if i’m faking something anymore #because as soon as it doesn’t actively hurt i forget what it felt like or if it even hurt at all #my teachers keep telling me to go to the doctor about my injuries but i never even tell my parents about them at this point #because i know it’ll stop as though it never happened within a month or two #it doesn’t matter if i keep dancing on a fucking stress fracture or torn muscle because it always fucking stops hurting no matter what i do #i’m so fucking tired of this i don’t even know when i fake injuries #i don’t want to feel like i’m being lazy and not doing everything i possibly can to get better #because let’s be honest even though i did this level twice i’m the worst in my class #i feel like a terrible person everytime i modify or wear warmups because as soon as i even say something it won’t hurt #and then i forget it ever hurt because my stupid brain can’t hold a feeling for longer than five fucking minutes #i’ve given up at this point i’m not going to try to do anything for my multiple fucking injuries #it doesn’t matter if my ankles collapse from under me i’m going to fucking get back up as though nothing happened #tw self destructive behavior

[newfallstrangeleaves]

Yandere with a unknown identity

Breaking and entering

M!Yandere X F!reader Warning: non-con, fingering F! Receiving. Summary: You had a terrible day and end up going to bed early when a masked man breaks in and decides to make it all better.

Part 2 aaand Another part

You had such a bad day today. Nothing seemed to go your way. All day you kept your emotions in. When you got back home all you did was throw off anything uncomfortable and then crawl into bed to just cry it out. 

While crying your heart out you don't notice the bedroom window slowly creeping open and a dark shadow climbing in. He is just about to walk further into your apartment when a sniffle stops him in his tracks. 

Perhaps it's the feeling of being watched, but something tells you to turn around. When you do you are met with a tall man dressed entirely in black. Not even a speck of skin is showing. His face is covered by a balaclava and the room is dark, only the lights from outside shine in but you can tell he is looking at you. 

In an instant he throws himself on top of you, pinning you down. You try to scream but he covers your mouth, muffling any sounds you make. Your panic is met with soft hushes which by no means calms you. He is way stronger than you. He holds both your hands down with one hand while he covers your mouth with the other. He has one leg on either side of you, straddling you, forcing you lower body in place while not putting all of his weight on you. 

You struggle against his grip but to no avail. Tears stream down your face. The mix between panic, crying and a hand covering your mouth makes you gasp for air. 

"Shhh, shhh. It's fine, I promise I'm not going to hurt you. Just breathe, breathe okay?" He hushes you softly. Because of the lack of air you force yourself to calm down. Taking slow breaths through your nose. 

"I'm going to move my hand okay? Don't scream." He says firmly and when you do he chuckles, pleased by your obedience. 

"Good girl." He whispers as he starts to wipe away your tears.

All the while you look up into his only exposed feature. His eyes. Even with only the moonlight shining in through your window his blue eyes are piercing through you. 

"Don't hurt me.” Your voice is barely a whisper. 

“I'm not going to, I told you that before." He stops for a moment before he speaks again. "Why were you crying before?” 

He wipes away a few more tears that escape you as you avoid his gaze. 

"It's okay, you can tell me." When you don't answer he continues. 

"Did something happen today? I could tell you were upset when I got here." 

When you still don't answer he moves off your body and with one arm pulls you after him making you sit up beside him. His sudden motion and the fact you don't know what he possibly could want from you makes you panic again. 

"I don't have much money. I… you can have my jewelry." 

"I don't want any of that, I want to know why you're crying." He cuts you off. You take a moment to calm down before you answer him. 

"I just had a bad day, that's all." It feels like your heart is beating out of your chest. But then he nods, straightening his back.

"That's alright, it's over now. If that's any help." Then he squints his eyes and you can only guess that he is smiling under his mask. Then he looks down, catching your shirt riding up exposing skin. He takes a deep breath before he continues with a low voice. 

"Maybe I can make it a little better." Without really being able to do anything he moves you to sit in his lap with your back pressed against his chest. You let out a small gasp and squirm in his grip as you feel something hard pressing up against your ass. He grabs one of your legs to hold you in place and to spread your legs. You try to pry his hand off you but his grip on you is too firm.

He places a leather gloved hand on your clothed cunt, groping and rubbing. The friction makes your breath hitch. He moves his finger up and down your underwear and much to your dismay a sting of pleasure hits you everytime he brushes over your clit. He rests his head on your shoulder whispering in your ear. 

"You're so beautiful, I'll make all your problems go away, I promise." 

He pushes your panties to the side and slides a finger inside you while he circulates your clit with his thumb. He curves his finger looking for that perfect spot.

"Please stop…" 

"Shhhh… you will feel so good soon." 

He adds another digit inside you, that together with the gloves extra thickness he stretches you out. A whine escapes you, which prones him to work faster. You can feel yourself getting closer with each move he makes. Your breathing grows heavier and so does the knot in the lower half of your stomach. His fingers hit a certain spot inside you and you jolt as if electrocuted. A moan leaves your lips as he continues to abuse that spot.  

You grip his arm, scratching him through his shirt as your orgasm riples through you. Throwing your head back on his shoulder as you bite your lip to try and suppress any sounds, but a muffled moan slips you anyways. He works you through your high and stops when you relax leaning back on him. 

"Didn't that feel good huh?" He nudges your cheek with his nose. 

"How about we go for another one?" You shake your head but he doesn't care. His hands start up again. 

His hand lets go of your leg and worms his way under your shirt. With no bra on he goes right to squeezing your boobs and playing with your nipples.

"Oh, you're so wet. I wish I could be inside you. Feel your pussy clench around my dick instead of my fingers." 

Another orgasm ripple through you. But this time he doesn't stop. 

"You're doing so good. Just a few more for me." 

The room is filled by the wet sounds from your pussy and the moans that you have stopped caring about. All your mind can focus on is his fingers. 

You couldn't keep count over how many orgasms he made you go through until he decided you finally had enough. 

You feel exhausted. Leaning back panting on his broad frame. Sore from the over stimulation. 

"How are you feeling?" He holds you so impossibly close to him, one of his arms wrapped around your waist. He is gently rubbing your cheek with his index finger. The leather feels cold against your skin. 

You look up at him through hooded eyes and for a moment you two just look at each other. Then you move your hand to pull off his hood but he grabs your wrist. 

"Not today, hun. Another time I will show you." He gently lifts you up and moves you off his lap. 

"I'll be back in a sec okay? Don't move." He tells you as he stands up. Before he leaves the room he grabs your phone. You can hear him walking around in the kitchen. 

When he gets back he hands you a glass of juice and a towel. You cover your lower half with the towel as you watch him pick out new clothes for you. You can't not notice the giant wet stain that is left on his pants. He hands you the clothes and goes to get his bag by the window and set it back down on your bed.

"Do you want me to help you shower?”

“No, I want you to leave.” You say firmly. He takes a deep breath before nodding. 

“Okay, I'll leave. Just before I go." He opens up his bag and reaches down. Fear overwhelms you like a cold shower. He must have noticed you tensing up because he says. 

“It's okay, I'm just going to give you money. Take the day off tomorrow and the day after that too. This will be plenty to not disrupt your economy. And hey, treat yourself, eat out or buy something nice. I know how hard working you are, you deserve it." He hands you the money and then heads for the front door.

But before he leaves he turns back to you once more. “And remember to lock, will you? Been too many times where I have got here and you've forgotten to lock for the night. The window too. You can never be too careful.” And with a wave he is gone, left is just a stack of money in your lap.

#yandere x reader #yandere smut #yandere noncon #yandere oc #yandere male #male yandere #yandere x female reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n

[bluejutdae]

• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Minho x you

Chan, Changbin, Jisung, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin

genre: friends to lovers

warnings: asshole date, nothing happens but reader thinks her date might follow her home

This night has been terrible so far. Your friend convinced you to go out with one of her colleagues to get over your crush for Minho, and you knew it was pointless, but she insisted so much you have lost the will to fight. So you wore a nice dress and a minute before you left the apartment, the guy texted you saying there was a change of plans and to meet two hours later and at a different location. Is the dating scene like this for everybody? You haven’t dated anyone for a long time, a bit because of how things ended with your last boyfriend but mostly because of the raging (unreciprocated) crush for Minho.

Minho’s now one of your closest friends, but you never actually gave up on your feelings for him. It’s almost comfortable, safe in a way, to love someone knowing things won’t change but won’t end either.

But for the sake of shutting up your friend, you are now in a very shitty situation. The guy is pretty, you’re mature enough to admit that, but he’s a major asshole. Even ignoring the last minute change of plans, the fact that he arrived 25 minutes later and apparently the new location is a nightclub. His hands have been on you the moment he introduced himself and the more you try to put some distance between you two, the more he’s all over you. You could just leave, that’s true. It’s also true that this guy is very set on never leaving your side and he’s so pushy you’re certain he wouldn’t hesitate to follow you home.

You wonder when Minho is going to be here so you can at least leave the club and have him keep you company, when you feel a hand grabbing your wrist. You turn to find the hand holding you belongs to Minho himself and he’s looking at you with a surly expression, teeth clenched and a frown between his eyebrows. “We’re going home.”

His voice is cold and firm, you’ve never heard him speak to you like that. Your date notices the scene and turns to Minho. “Woah dude, she’s mine tonight.”

Minho’s cold stare rests on the guy and at the same time your friend makes a step to place himself between you and your date. “She’ll never be yours, not tonight, not never. She belongs to me. Dude.” The last word was spat through Minho’s teeth, mocking and a bit cruel.

Words die on the guy’s tongue when Minho gets into his face and says something too quiet for you to hear.

A moment later he’s gently pushing you away and through the crowd, towards the exit.

“Well, that was intense,” you joke when you’re safe on the sidewalk.

“Don’t you ever put yourself into a situation like this. Ever again.” He’s on your face, almost screaming the words at you, anger contorting his face.

You can understand he was worried, but you don’t like the way he’s talking to you.

“Ya, Minho! Do you think I wanted that?” You raise your eyebrows. “I didn’t call you so you could scold me! I called you because I trusted you to help me, I know I was in a shitty situation!”

“And yet you still got into this situation!” He rebuts, and in this moment you hate him a little.

Why is he judging you like this? Why is he blaming you? Sure, you were a bit too naive but it’s not like you consciously decided to put yourself in a potentially dangerous situation.

“This clearly wasn’t what I expected.”

“No? You’re the one who decided to go to a club with a man you didn’t know. And you came alone! Was bringing a friend too easy?”

“Fuck you, Minho!”

You stalk away, towards the direction of the bus stop. Why is he mad at you now? He’s never been mean or cruel to you, despite what lots of people say about him, he’s a caring friend.

You can hear his footsteps getting close and you almost laugh at the thought that comes to your mind: you are always so focused on him, you can now recognize his footsteps.

“I parked in the other direction.”

“Then go the other direction. I don’t need you here. Sorry I bothered you. I won’t be your problem anymore.”

“You are my problem.”

“Oh, so I really am a problem to you.” You can believe him. All this because he had to come get you? You didn’t think it’d be such a hassle.

“Yes. You’ve been my problem since I met you.”

“You’re being so fucking cruel tonight, Minho.”

“I am not- can you stop walking?” He asks, sounding exasperated. You stop and face him, one hand on your hip and your lips pursed in disapproval. “So you can tell me more about how I’m a problem?”

“I didn’t say a problem.”

“You said exac-“

“I said MY problem! Emphasis on my. Because you’re not other people’s problem. And I don’t want you to belong to other guys, don’t want them to call you theirs! I want you to be mine.”

You stare at him for half a minute, silent and still. Putting aside the fact that he’s repeating the fact that you’re a problem, you try to read between the lines.

“Is this a fucked up way to tell me you have feeling for me?”

“Yes.”

This is ridiculous. Really ridiculous. Your crush has feelings for you. And the most backwards way of confessing. Well, considering he is Minho, it’s pretty in character for him. Still ridiculous, though.

“I didn’t know you decided to go on dates.” He says it like a second thought.

“I didn’t.”

“You were on a date.”

“Doesn’t mean I decided to go on dates.”

“Means exactly that.”

“Jesus, Minho. Can you ever drop something?”

“Not when it’s about you.”

This asshole. How can you find his otherwise annoying answers amusing?

“My friend insisted so much that she wore me down, so I accepted this date with her colleague. So, as I said, I haven’t decided to go on dates.”

“Good.”

“You can never be normal, uh? Always with a weird answer.”

“You like weird.”

“I do.”

“You’re normal. I like normal.”

He likes normal, and he likes you. And he tells you so in a Minho way at least another ten times in the following minutes, during your way home.

You say goodbye and you’re about to get out of the car, when he puts his hand on your arm, an hesitant expression on his face. “No more other guys, right?”

You smile softly at him. “No more other guys. There hasn’t really been another guy since I met you.”

His smile is all you need.

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #bluejutdae #skz #minho smau #minho imagines #minho fanfic #minho scenarios #Thiana writes Minho

[breadbrobin]

lavender roses

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of persephone reader]

summary: everyone thinks red roses are synonymous with the perfect love. you believe that lavender roses deserve more love, and luke believes that you’re worthy of all the love in the world—you’re both just bad at communicating it.

warnings: kissing, swearing, suggestive content, mentions of weapons, idiots, miscommunication trope but it’s cute dw, seriously they’re both so stupid and oblivious, besties to idiots to lovers

word count: 3.3k

(y’all i’m losing my mind i can’t stop writing but this might be one of my favourites ever)

(also i might put together a luke taglist and a clarisse taglist so lmk if you wanna be put on either of those and i’ll get to work on it 🤩)

———————————————

“i’m free february fourteenth,” you said nonchalantly.

you were sitting with luke at dinner and he’d just asked you if you ever had a day off working. as a daughter of persephone, you lived in the hermes cabin, but spent most of your time working in the strawberry fields. you spent every free moment there, soaking in the sun, helping the plants grow and picking flowers to put in vases around the cabin and infirmary.

he nodded as chris choked on his food beside him, coughing hard. “okay, we should hang out then.”

you weren’t sure if he knew what was going on. was he messing with you? playing a joke? really wanting to hang out with you on valentine’s day? or was he having a lapse of memory and he forgot that day had any significance at all?

either way, you nodded. when you spoke, your voice was slightly higher pitched than usual. “sure.”

“we can have a picnic. we haven’t done that in a while.” he was nodding still, looking into his food with a thoughtful expression.

the air nearly left your lungs. you nodded back, though he wasn’t looking at you, and exchanged a wide-eyed look with chris across the table. sure, you and luke used to go for picnics occasionally, but that was before he’d gotten unfairly attractive overnight and you’d developed the most annoying crush on him. “yeah, sure. it’s a date.”

if you could have jumped into tartarus you would have.

what the fuck. why would you say that?

chris was staring at you in shock.

your mouth was dry.

and luke was smiling like nothing was wrong. were his cheeks red? or was that your imagination? “yup! it’s a date.”

when he got up from the table to leave after dinner, he kissed your cheek. this wasn’t too far out of the ordinary, per se—it happened occasionally—but it sent a rush of adrenaline shooting down your spine and set your cheeks aflame.

chris’ eyebrows were raised. “what was that?”

“i have no idea,” you breathed.

“do you think he knows?”

your voice was even softer as you shook your head. “dude. i have no idea.”

valentine’s day couldn’t come soon enough.

you could hardly think of anything else. zoning out in the fields, losing focus while sparring, getting distracted by luke’s shoulder muscles while he was drawing back his bow, sending your arrow flying off to the side.

he laughed at you with everyone else, coming over to stand by your side. “you good there? need any help?”

you shook your head, your quaking fingers drawing the string back once more, pulling it taut. archery wasn’t your best skill, but you weren’t terrible at it.

you could feel his eyes on you, judging your form, analysing your aim. it put you off.

your arrow barely hit the target.

luke winced. “that was… better.”

you sighed and lowered the bow. “you’re distracting me!”

he laughed. “i’m distracting you?”

“yes!” you huffed, frowning at him. his eyes were lit up with amusement. “you are.”

“well, then i’m very sorry.” he raised his hands and took a step back, dipping his head too. “as you were, milady.”

you rolled your eyes with a smile and drew your arrow back, aiming and firing, but it still didn’t do well. in fact, every arrow that you shot pierced outside of the black rings. you were starting to think there was either something wrong with the bow or that you’d been cursed by one of the apollo kids, when someone’s hand lowered your elbow.

you looked over to see luke. he wasn’t watching your face. he was guiding your elbow down so it was more level with your arrow’s line and gently pulling your shoulders back so they were more even.

“pull back a bit more,” he coached quietly.

“i know what i’m doing,” you protested.

“i know, but today you look like you need a reminder. do you want my help? or do you wanna keep missing?” he finally looked you in the eye. he was sincere, you realised.

you sighed and draw the arrow back a little more.

he nodded happily and continued guiding your stance until you were perfect, his hands hot on your body and his breath on the back of your neck. he stayed behind you as you lowered the arrow and took a few deep breaths.

you were still watching him over your shoulder. his lips quirked as he reached out and gently turned your face away to look at the target. his hand was calloused and rough, but the tough was soft. you could barely breathe.

“focus,” he said softly. “eyes on the prize.”

you’re the only prize i want, was all you could think, but you didn’t say anything. you drew the arrow back, your fingers brushing against the corner of your lips. you felt better—more powerful, more confident—in this stance. and maybe luke’s presence behind you was helping with that too. you could feel the slight ghost of his hand on your waist. it kept you grounded. it stopped you from floating away.

your arrow pierced just beside the bullseye.

luke’s hand tightened on your waist, squeezing proudly. “that’s my girl.”

your heart fluttered as you smiled. “thanks, luke.”

he patted your lower back as he stepped away. “that’s what i’m here for. go kill it.”

then he was gone, and there was a fiery pit in your stomach that grew with each passing day that told you that—oh shit—you were in fully love with luke castellan.

february fourteenth arrived in a flurry of pinks, reds and whites. hearts adorned the camp, courtesy of the aphrodite cabin, and you and the demeter cabin had been tasked with growing what felt like hundreds of red roses. personally, you didn’t understand the hype surrounding red roses. after all, the lavender ones were the prettiest. they even meant love at first sight—far better than plain old love.

but with all the love in the air and the aphrodite campers swooning left and right, luke was sure to figure out his mistake and call off the picnic. it made you feel sick with anxiety, and your hands shook as you tended to the roses.

“y/n, hey!” luke’s voice came right next to you.

you flinched and the rose bush sprouted ten feet in the air with new flowers springing into existence left and right.

“whoa…” he said, looking up at it in shock. “i don’t think we need that many.”

“i don’t think anyone needs that many.” you muttered and took a deep breath, bringing the bush back down to size. “what are you doing here, luke?” your heart was in your throat. he didn’t look upset, but he’d always been good at hiding his emotions. was he about to tell you that he didn’t want to meet up later? or that he hated you for tricking him? thoughts started spinning like tops in your mind as you sunk into worse scenario after worse scenario.

“i just wanted to make sure we were still on for this afternoon? and to let you know to meet me by the lake.” were you imagining things, or did he look almost… nervous? his cheeks were red and he wasn’t meeting your eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. was he? really?

you nodded. “oh, uh, yeah. we’re still on. i’ll meet you…?”

“at two?”

“at two.” you smiled. he smiled back and you ignored the flutter in your chest. a strand of hair blew in front of your face.

his hand twitched by his side, like he wanted to push it back, but he just nodded. “okay. see you later.”

“later,” you nodded as he walked away. “can’t wait!” you called after him. he shot a grin over his shoulder, and once he was gone, you buried your face in the rose bush with an exasperated groan.

at 1:45, you still didn’t know what to wear.

your friend becky had dragged you into the aphrodite cabin and was shoving various outfits into your arms to try on, since you didn’t have many nice outfits of your own, but nothing was right.

even though you were the same size as her, nothing seemed to fit you as well as it did her—some aphrodite’s daughter bullshit, you guessed.

she sat down on her bunk next to you and sighed. “i hate to say it, but… we’re out of options.”

you groaned and flopped backwards, covering your face.

she swatted your hands away. “you’ll smudge your makeup!” she then sat back and sighed. “honestly, hun, you might just have to go naked.”

“i’m sure he’d love that!” one of her brothers called from across the room.

you threw a pillow at him, but it dropped halfway there.

then becky froze with a gasp. “oh, my gods.”

you sat up. “what?”

“wait here.” she got up and dashed away, peering into the depths of her wardrobe.

you watched absently, kind of worried she’d pull out some sexy lingerie, as she felt around at the very back, in the corner. then her face lit up. she pulled out a dress. it was white and floaty, with tiny pale pink flowers on it and the most flattering neckline you’d ever seen. she held it out to you and then dragged you to the designated changing area beside her bunk.

you changed slowly, not wanting to rip the delicate material, then looked at yourself in the mirror.

holy shit.

becky stuck her head around the corner and gasped. “perfect! ugh, i feel like a proud mother.”

you laughed, smoothing the floaty fabric over your thighs. it was kind of staticky. “yeah, thanks, mom.”

she grabbed your arm and dragged you out, showing you off. “siblings! my magnum opus.”

as whistles and cheers came from the few people in the cabin, you smiled.

“he’ll love it,” becky whispered. “you look hot.”

“it’s not even a date,” you protested. “it’s just a hang out.”

“sweet cheeks, its a picnic on valentine’s day.” she tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder. “it’s a date. now go. you’re gonna be late.”

you slipped on your white sandals and the light green jacket you always wore, let silena slip a white headband into your hair, then stepped out the door.

it wasn’t a cold day, exactly, but you were grateful for the jacket.

you rushed down the lake and got there two minutes late.

luke was no where to be found.

great, you thought. he was messing with me the whole time.

just as you were considering leaving, you heard footsteps running up to you.

“y/n! i’m so sorry, i could figure out—oh, wow...” luke stopped in his tracks as you turned around. his eyes were wide and his cheeks were red as he looked you up and down. he cleared his throat. “i didn’t know what to wear.”

he’d settled on a navy blue crew neck sweater and black jeans. his hair was messy, like he’d been running his hands through it, and he looked good. really good.

shit. that would make things more difficult.

“it’s okay,” you smiled. “neither could i.”

“well, you look… you look amazing.” his voice was soft, almost reverent.

gods, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop blushing. this was torture. “thanks,” you said though, pretending your heart wasn’t climbing up your throat and threatening to jump right into his hands—like suicide. “should we—“

“oh! yeah.” he nodded and stepped forward, placing a hand on your back (just low enough that it made your heart stutter, but high enough that it was innocent) and leading you towards the strawberry fields. “this way, milady.”

your heart was sinking a little as the fields came into view. everyone went to the strawberry fields. there were at least seven couples there already. it was the standard date spot. you had to remind yourself this wasn’t a date.

but he led you past the fields and into the forest.

great, so he’ll just murder me instead, you thought bitterly. it was like you were searching for a reason that it wasn’t a date now. at least i won’t have to deal with the embarrassment of everyone seeing.

you snapped out of your thoughts as his hand gently slipped into yours and you nearly fell over. he looked back at you, amused. you shot him a thumbs up as he set down a familiar path.

you knew where you were going.

there was a clearing in the woods where you went. it was you own personal secret garden, hidden deep in the forest behind a thick hedge that you’d grown yourself. it had taken weeks to get it thick enough to keep your space safe, and weeks again to regain enough strength to add any other plants to it. in the last year though, you’d been going there often, coaxing a few new plants to grow. you’d learned that forcing growth was hard and near impossible, but encouraging growth was easy.

you’d shown luke the garden one day a few months ago, just before you developed that pesky crush.

he pulled you gently in front of him to enter the garden first, through a magically shifting gap in the hedge, so that he could enter too, and stepped aside to pick up a hefty bag hidden just off the path.

you stepped through the hedge, your hand still linked with luke’s, and into your garden. it was the same as last time you were there, around a week ago; filled with flowers and bees, with a patch of clear grass in the middle, linked to the hedge by four paths, running north to south and east to west. some of the flowers growing were out of season, but as a daughter of persephone, you had a certain level of influence over things like that. bees buzzed lazily around your head as you entered, happy to see you again. everything seemed to get happier, healthier and brighter the second you stepped into the garden. it was your favourite thing and your favourite place.

you looked back at luke to see him smiling at you. “you know me too well.”

“i knew you wouldn’t like to have everyone around,” he shrugged. “and i wanted to see this place again. it’s better than last time i was here.” he looked around in wonder.

“well, last time you were here, i’d just gotten over the flu, so i was still pretty weak. all of my hydrangeas wilted.” you pouted and crossed the garden to your hydrangea bush, blooming in all ranges of colours. soil acidity and pH didn’t matter if you were the daughter of persephone.

luke laid down a plaid picnic blanket as you murmured a few words to some of your weaker looking plants, breathing life back into them. you could feel his eyes on you as he sat and waited, but you didn’t feel rushed or observed. more than anything, you felt admired.

finally, you sat next to him. he’d set out some food and water bottles for the two of you. he was prepared. that was one thing about luke castellan: he was prepared, always two steps ahead. which is why this didn’t make sense.

as you started eating, you found yourself staring at a lavender rose bush. love at first sight, you mused. if only.

you’d fallen for luke after a whole year of friendship. that made it worse. you’d loved him already, platonically, then, without warning, those feeling shifted. the way you looked at him changed in a matter of moments. when he’d gotten cherries on his plate for dessert after you were told you couldn’t have more, then he’d given them all to you, claiming he didn’t like them (even though you knew he did), you fell stupidly, irrevocably, in love. but the way he looked at you never changed: always soft, always kind and always the same.

you were drawn to look at him. you always were. the sharp lines and soft curves of his face. those dark eyes that made your heart flutter never wavered as they met yours. never shifted, never darkened, never clouded with anger. never. they were as constant as time, as reliable as the tide, as predictable as the full moon coming around again.

and he was looking at you now. “what?” he asked.

you blinked and looked away, watching as two bees clumsily bumped into each other and went on their way. “nothing.” would that be you and luke? two bees bumping into each other briefly, then going on with their lives? unlikely to cross paths again? you couldn’t let that happen.

“you know it’s valentine’s, right?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

luke lowered his apple, resting his hand on his knee. his forehead was creased in a confused frown. “yeah, why?”

“well… then why… why are we hanging out today? i mean, this isn’t a date.” you paused. “is it?”

his eyes widened. “wait, you don’t think—“

“it’s fine, luke.” you shrugged, pretending your heart wasn’t crumbling. “it’s my fault. i shouldn’t have brought up valentines. it was a silly joke, and—“

“a joke?” he frowned again. “this isn’t a joke.”

you looked at him. he looked earnest. “what?”

“it’s not a joke. why would i joke about going on a date with you?” he swallowed tightly and put his apple down. “did you… did you just think it was a joke?”

“no! well, yes. but i didn’t want it to be.” you exclaimed. “did… you want it to be?”

“no!” he exclaimed, turning to face you. “why would i want that? i thought we’ve been dating for three weeks now!”

“you, what?”

he took a deep breath. “you’re telling me that i’ve been assuming we’re dating for three weeks, and you’ve been assuming i’ve been joking for three weeks, because we’re both a little bit fucking stupid and can’t communicate our feelings properly?”

you stared at him, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress. the static crackled like the tension in the air. “i guess so.”

“huh.” he said, turning back to face the flowers. he was silent for a moment and you almost thought he’d leave, but then he started laughing.

“stop laughing,” you protested, pushing him lightly, your cheeks flaming hot. “stop it.”

he didn’t.

soon, you weren’t able to stop yourself from giggling, then you were both laughing uncontrollably. your stomach hurt and you had to lean on each other to avoid falling over. your faces were close—too close. your laughter died as you felt his breath on your face. his fingers brushed your hair behind your ear. his breath hitched as he did, like he’d been waiting to do that for months.

“i’ve liked you for months,” you whispered.

“i’ve liked you since the moment we met,” he cupped your face in his hand, his other one resting on your knee.

you could see the lavender roses behind him. love at first sight.

the two bees that had bumped into each other settled on the same flower.

fucking hell.

you kissed him before you could talk yourself out of it.

the kiss wasn’t like fireworks. it was more like the first flowers of spring: fresh, exciting and pure. his lips were soft. yours were probably rougher than his from your long hours in the fields. you figured he didn’t care, because he kissed you like you were the only air he needed to breath for the rest of his life. you could feel flowers blooming around the picnic blanket—daisies and dandelions in the grass. the plants in the gardens were going wild. he was like a drug; some kind of amplifier for your powers and your heart rate and gods, you never wanted to let him go. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer against him. your hand rose to his cheek and static electricity jumped from your skin to his.

he pulled away with a gasp, his hand on his cheek. then he laughed, and kissed you again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

and you were infinitely glad for the privacy of your own secret garden.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #charlie bushnell

[doberbutts]

Anyway yes, people who can X should be accomodating to people who can't X. People who can walk should accomodate people who can't. People who can hear should accomodate people who can't. People who can see should accomodate people who can't. And on and on. When that doesn't happen, it's a problem that deserves to be talked about.

But the problem is not and has never been "physical disabilities are more important and deserve more accomodations than mental disabilities"- nor the other way around either.

People love to dunk on folks with ADD/ADHD but you know? As someone with ADD raised by diabetic parents I gotta say there's a lot of similarities here. People with ADD, myself included, often forget to eat and when they do eat they often load themselves up with carbs and sugars because those foods make their brains feel good. People with diabetes have to closely monitor their meals and often crave sugars and need a blend of sugary and protein-rich snacks on hand. This is not to say ADD and diabetes are exact one-to-one disabilities.

But having grown up watching my parents manage their diabetes, I too am very aware of meal times and blood sugar and constructing meals that will tide you over and having a blend of sugary and protein-rich snacks on hand Just In Case. I am able to manage my ADD better in this way because I have experience from watching my parents. I also need access to snacks and to be able to say to my boss "I need to go eat something real fast" without being punished.

I had a training client who was the image of "able bodied mentally ill" outside of the usual creaks and squeaks associated with age, her body worked just fine. But after a series of incidents in her youth- a car accident that left her with a serious brain injury, coming home from the hospital afterwards to immediately have her house broken into and herself raped by an intruder, and assorted medical malpractice while she was healing from both- she has a serious and extreme case of agoraphobia and spent the next 40 years completely unable to leave the house. She would hide and wail and scream when deliveries of groceries and other goods would come, because it meant a stranger (and usually a man) would be at her door. She could not go more than a couple steps outside to get her mail and especially not if other people were outside.

At some point her therapist suggested getting a pet, one that *had* to go outside, to help her. So she got a dog and contacted a trainer (me) and we got to work. And she did improve! The dog has been a huge help to managing her symptoms! But you cannot seriously expect me to have worked with this woman for years and then belittle mental illnesses as being lesser when this woman also shares the inability to even leave her house let alone go inside a grocery store. Even today there are times when she simply cannot, she cannot will her body to move out of her door and into transportation let alone into the building.

When she first started coming to me she thanked me for not belittling her or making her feel bad for classes she had to cancel because she couldn't force herself to take the first step over the threshold. That is when she told me what happened to her and that while it sounds terrible she was really happy to have found a trainer who knew something personal about trauma and brain injuries. She is also a case where I feel her ESA should be considered service dog not because of training or tasking but because her need is so high and she is just completely incapable of doing anything without the dog in her arms.

Anyway I think of her any time someone says "but you can walk through the door". There's nothing wrong with her legs so in theory sure she could. But often she *can't*, not because of anything physical, but because she is very severely mentally ill.

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

what about edging eddie everytime he comes over to visit you? Grinding or sucking him off only to stop right before he comes every single time.

The way this has been SITTING in my ask box since August :(( I'm sorry. 💕🩷

Can this be bestfriend!Eddie? Because it screams best friend eddie.

The thought of edging Eddie just does something to me. He'd be so whiny about it too whispering to make him cum but you won't and he knows it too. His soft needy cries with that deep voice as your tongue teases his leaking tip. He gets so frustrated when he's about to spill his cum in the back of your throat but you pull him out everytime

Besfriend!Eddie munson x fem!reader

Not proofread.

Your friendship with Eddie was very special. You did everything together. Even fooled around when you got lonely or drunk. You had an agreement of "as long as everything is above the waist," it's okay. Sometimes, things did eventually happen.

You and him didn't date much, so you ended up learning how to give a blow job from him. You taught him how to eat pussy. You practiced on one another. You felt like it was only right to get some experience in for whenever someone asked either one of you out.

That's just how close you two were. It never felt weird or awkward, either. But those type moments only happened once you never spoke of them again. You just heavily made out a lot and did some heavy petting.

Not that you didn't enjoy feeling each other. You most definitely did. You guys felt kinda bad about not having much experience being your early twenties. At least you have one another he'd always reassured. Deep down, Eddie always wanted to make you his.

Now he likes to come over to your place on the weekends to watch a movie and eat junk food. Usually, he brings pizza and rents a terrible b-horror flick from family video.

A loud kick to your door startles you at, and you walk over to look out the peephole.

"Pizza is here, sweetheart." Eddie greeted you with a big smile as you answered your door. That smile soon faltered when he noticed what you were wearing.

You never cared if Eddie saw you naked. You've seen him naked plenty of times when he was drunk off his ass and needed a shower. You opened the door in nothing but a thin tank top and panties that hugged your ass just right. He immediately gulped at the sight.

"It's about time Munson what movie did you pick." You giggled taking the food from his hands.

He clears his throat. "Oh, uhhhhhh, Slumber party massacre." He scratched the back of his neck as he tried to avoid looking so flustered.

"Slumber pary massacre--the movie with the chicks in lingerie getting slaughtered?" You eyed him and got plates ready for the pizza.

"Not surprised that's the movie you'd pick."

You don't really notice how he's looking at you. You're too focused getting the food ready for you and him to eat. You moved around your apartment, and his eyes followed your every step.

Eddie couldn't stop staring at you. His eyes fixed on the curve of your ass and the way your nipples were poking through the material of your shirt. He tries to discreetly readjust himself, so you see the obvious growing buldge in his jeans.

"Yeah, well, we've watched everything else in that video store." Eddie looked down at his feet with his hands in his pockets.

His cock was throbbing against the zipper of his jeans. He stood there by the door, not moving a muscle. He thought if he didn't move, you'd forget he was even there.

"Hey Eddie." You called out softly to him.

His head perks up and his eyes meet yours. "W-whats up?"

"Come sit with me." You pat the empty spot next to you on the couch.

The pizza and drinks were already laid out and ready to eat. Eddie couldn't focus on anything but you. His mind races at all the possibilities of taking you right there on the couch. Your pussy getting split open around his cock. Your cute, soft little moans in his ear. Your juices dripping down your thighs while he fucked you roughly in your living room. Your poor neighbors hearing your cries of pleasure.

The movie was playing, but he has no idea what's even happening or cares for that matter. His eyes kept glancing over at you. You're sitting with your legs criss-cross while eating your third slice of pizza. He had one foot propped up on your coffee table as he licked his lips watching you.

Your eyes focus on the shitty movie he rented. You were right he did pick this out to watch half-naked women run around in the skimpiest lingerie. The killer having a guitar as a weapon now makes perfect sense now, too. Truthfully. It was the closest thing to porn Eddie could get you to watch with him. He was a bit of perv, and he'll admit that.

He eyes keep wandering over to your figure from the swell of your breasts down to your thighs. His head leaned forward to get a tiny glimpse of what's between your legs. Your underwear doing you no justice in covering much of anything at all. He smiled to himself. his mouth watered, remembering the night he tasted you.

You could feel his eyes on you practically all night long. He was acting a little funny the second he walked through the front door. You chalked it up to him working too much and needing some rest. You tried to ignore his lingering stare. You just couldn't any longer.

"You okay?" You looked over at him. You noticed he hasn't eaten one single slice of pizza. "You seem a little...antsy I guess."

He coughed and tried to play it cool. "Me? No, no, I'm fine."

You squinted at him. "I don't believe you."

"Alright, fine." He threw his back and groaned. "it's you."

"Me?" You asked, confused. "What about me?"

"It's....you. it's always you. You always make me so hot and I feel like anytime I'm around you I can't even fucking think straight." Eddie confessed. He was speaking so fast that you barely had time to register what he was saying.

You sit there quietly, not saying a word yet. You don't want to misinterpret what he's trying to tell you. even though you have a pretty good idea of what it's about.

"I--look. Listen--Touch me. Please. We don't have to have sex. Just touch me. Make me beg. I don't even have to cum. I just need to feel you." He voice sounded so desperate.

His eyes looked into yours, and you couldn't deny him. His brown eyes are looking deep into yours. You nod and move to sit in his lap with your back against his chest. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, keeping you close. Your ass pressing right up against his cock. You could feel just how hard he is.

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" You whispered.

"Didn't want to make shit uncomfortable." His voice muffled as he peppered light kisses on your neck.

Your eyes flutter closed when his soft lips touch your skin. "You'd never make me uncomfortable we've done lots of things together before."

"I know I just never want you to feel like I'm using you." Eddie leaves a trail of wet kisses from your neck and down to your shoulder. You moved your head back to give him better access.

His hips lift slightly to rub up into your ass. He cursed under his breath, and your hands went down to grip on his thighs

"Fuck sweetheart grind on me." He said breathlessly.

You nod and move your hips back and forth in his lap. Your ass rubbing on his cock over his jeans. His arms wrapping around you tighter as he buries his face in your neck.

"That's it, sweetheart grind that cute ass on me." Eddie grunted and bucked up his hips for some added friction.

You pressed down harder on his cock. Your hips swiveling in a circular motion. He's whimpering in your ear. His legs bounce up and down while you grind on him. You dig your nails into his thighs to hold on tight.

"Fuck please---id do anything for you sweetheart. Anything." Eddie rasped in your ear. "You can have my cock whenever you want it."

"You think I could take it?" You teased and pushed your ass on him hard, making him jerk.

"Baby ill make sure you can take it. Y-you're such a good girl." He groaned and grinded himself up against your ass.

You continued moving back and forth on his cock. You could feel his breathing quickening just by how his chest pressed into your back.

"I know how messy you can get. Thinking about having you squirting all over me." His voice is shakey as your hips switch to moving back in a circular motion again.

You whimper at his words and feel yourself growing wetter. Your panties are completely soaked through. His voice is trembling, and his arms are constricting around you. There is a small wet patch forming on his jeans from the mess you've created in your panties and his precum.

"Mmm, I'm so close." He moans, and you slow down.

You stopped your movements for a few seconds, and Eddie whines. He swallows and tries to control himself.

After a few more minutes, you start moving. His cock is so sensitive and begging for release. He needs to cum so bad but loves the feeling of you edging him. The feeling of getting so close only for you to stop is driving him crazy.

You speed up and your ass grinds down on his cock. Your pace went from fast to slow anytime he got close again. You kept getting him close to the edge only to stop or slow down. it was almost too painful for him to keep going but liked it. His face is covered in sweat.

"let me cum." Eddie beggee and bit down on your shoulder. You whimpered from the pain.

Shaking your head no and grind your ass down on his cock. The material of his boxers scratched against him. He was becoming needy for you the more you teased him.

"Fuck please let me cum baby---please." He kept begging. Your pussy was aching for some type of relief. His breath tickled your throat while he spoke. "Shit I'm gonna cum."

"Oh," your eyebrows shoot up, and you stop. You moved his arms from around your waist and went to sick back down in your spot.

"I-i thought." He swallows and sinks back. His legs spread wide open. The look he gave you almost made you feel guilty for stopping.

You could see that wet patch on his lap that's much more noticeable than you thought. His painfully hard cock straining against his pants.

"You said you didn't have to cum. Remember?" You teased and went back to watching the movie.

Eddie smirked and moved to scoot closer to you." If I make you cum around my fingers will you let make me cum?" He whispered seductively.

"Maybe... we'll see how good you make me feel first."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x reader

[jellieland]

"You know," says Jimmy smugly, "I think second is the best spot to die in, actually."

"Really," says Mumbo, exasperated.

"Yes, I don't know what you're so happy about," says Lizzie. "You barely lasted ten minutes more than me."

"Doesn't matter. Not out first, baby!" He crows, triumphant, to the neverending void.

"And you killed me last session!"

"...Yes, I, uh, I'm sorry about that one. Sort of. Mostly," he says, momentarily cowed.

"I can't believe you people," says Lizzie. "They didn't have a funeral for me. I died first, and you got one, and they didn't even have a funeral for me!" She sounds indignant, but a look of genuine hurt crosses her face for a moment.

"I'm going to be honest, Lizzie," says Mumbo awkwardly. "I think they had bigger things to worry about. I- I think Joel was quite sad about it, though. If that helps?"

"I suppose it's better than nothing." She crosses her arms.

"But- wait, hang on. Jimmy?" says Mumbo abruptly. "Did you say you wanted to go out second?"

"No!" Jimmy protests. "I just think if you have to go out, then second is sort of ideal, really, if you think about it!"

"No!" says Mumbo, indignant. "No, surely third is better, actually! And to extend that logic, fourth would be better as well, and fifth, and- well, you get the idea. Anyway, my point is that I did better than both of you!"

"Hey, don't bring me into this!" says Lizzie.

"Anyway, you're wrong," says Jimmy, back to being smug again.

There is a short silence.

"You, uh. You gonna elaborate on that one, buddy?" asks Mumbo.

"Well," says Jimmy. "Obviously going out first is terrible. Would not recommend. I don't know why anyone would do it, honestly, I know I would never-"

"You're going on my list," says Lizzie, cheerfully.

"Wait wait wait, no, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I really am!"

"Hmm." Lizzie narrows her eyes. "Acceptable. For now."

A few moments pass.

"You may continue," she says.

"Right," says Jimmy. "What was I saying?"

"You were being wrong about how the ranking in this game works," offers Mumbo.

"No I wasn't!" says Jimmy. "Just, let me explain. Now, you obviously don't want to go out first, sorry Lizzie, but it's true."

"I will concede that point," says Lizzie. "It wasn't great."

"But—have you seen how they get?"

"How they... get?" Mumbo frowns. "What do you mean?"

"The people who don't die."

"I- now, I don't know if you remember this," says Mumbo, "But third is a new record for me, so I really don't know how you expect me to know that."

"Anyway," interjects Lizzie, "Mumbo and I have only done this once before. I mean, I guess people started losing it a bit once you two died, but it wasn't that much different to how it already had been. Although I wasn't around for that long at that point."

"Yes, but, it-" Jimmy frowns. "I haven't seen much of it either. But there's something- I don't know how to explain what I mean. Maybe you haven't noticed, but there's stuff with Grian, Scott, Pearl."

He stops, sighs. Looks at the ground.

"Martyn's going to be alone, now," he says.

"Well," says Lizzie, a little acerbic. "You don't have to have people die for that to happen, you know."

Jimmy gives her a look that is a combination of sheepishness and genuine regret. "Ah. Yeah. I guess not."

"So you're right," says Lizzie. "I don't know what you mean."

"...I did feel bad," says Jimmy, quietly.

"You... did?" asks Lizzie. "What about?"

Jimmy looks at her, then off to the side. "...When I killed you."

"Oh."

"I really didn't mean to," he says. "I felt bad. It wasn't satisfying. It was just... a person I cared about. Dead. Because of me. Because I acted without thinking, because I wasn't paying attention."

"...Oh." says Lizzie, softly.

"And that was when I knew you would come back," says Jimmy.

Lizzie and Mumbo exchange glances, unsure.

"I'm good with second," says Jimmy. "I think it's the closest you can get to winning, actually."

They stand there, silent, for some time.

"Well," says Mumbo eventually. "I still feel like third is a bit better, though."

"Mumbo!" cries Jimmy.

"Mumbo, come on, we were just having a moment!" says Lizzie.

"Yes well, look, I really need this, guys," says Mumbo, shifting his weight from side to side. "I don't know if you know this, but I've had a really bad day. It was just terrible!"

"I think we've all had pretty bad days, Mumbo!" says Lizzie, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we all died!"

"Yes, I- I had picked up on that, actually."

"I don't know," says Jimmy. "My day was great!"

They keep talking, and bickering, and the emptiness stretches off into the distance.

It's nice, not to have to be there alone.

#secret life spoilers #secret life smp #jimmy solidarity #i think it's really interesting how both lizzie and mumbo have only been in one other season and died quite early on #I've just been thinking about those three #together after the end. #my writing

[autistic-shaiapouf]

"Haha yeah I'm doing just fine with my job search" *bursts into tears*

#i may have to put next month's rent onto my credit card.. I'm preparing to drop 100 tomorrow for a lyft to and from my neurologist #and also for my copay for the specialist visit #my prospects are limited bc i cant drive and am being investigated for chronic health conditions so I'm #a little hesitant to do anything else that's gonna mess up my body more; i dont wanna go back to retail #when i worked retail I'd come home and cry every evening and dropped all my hobbies; i exclusively worked and did #nothing else and my depression spiraled out of control and i cant let that happen again #I'm only really losing it rn my my roommate said that she was worried about me and I'm like. oh my god it's actually that bad #people are getting concerned bc it's actually that terrible #i can't afford to not have these doc appts either; ive had my issues for at least 7-8 years and I'm finally getting close to answers #i refuse to regret any silly purchases; anything that makes life feel like it's worth the hassle is something i will not let myself regret #plus some like the humidifier and blood pressure cuff were necessary; but i am. my god. i am not okay right now #hoatm rants

[covetyou]

sleepless

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: unprotected PIV, creampie, fingering, cumplay, pet names (baby, sweetheart, darlin’), mild praise kink, very mild dubcon (sleepy reader), bratty reader, no use of Y/N. word count: 3.5k summary: It’s been days since you last got anything resembling decent sleep. You’re exhausted, but more than that, you’re angry. Every little thing is pissing you off, and you just want to be left the fuck alone. Joel, ever the gentleman, has a solution to your sleeplessness, and your bad mood.

A/N: This was an out of body experience and I don’t know how it happened. Seriously, I stood up out of bed and wondered what the fuck I’d done. I haven’t written a single thing in an entire year (and that was for a funeral), and I have never written smut and don't know what I'm doing. So. Enjoy?

This one is for all of us who get really grouchy when tired. Or hungry. Or if the phase of the moon just isn't right. I see you honeybuns, and so does Joel.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

terrible graphics by me

“What's got your panties in a bunch?”

You were in a shit mood. It was a shitty day, and you were in a shit mood and Joel was not helping.

“Nothing.” You huff out. Totally believable.

Joel runs his tongue over his teeth, eying you. “Okay… You need to go make yourself come or somethin’?”

You slam your mug on the counter, hot tea sloshing over the edges with the force. ”No Joel, I don't need to fucking come.”

It was true. You didn’t. What you needed was to be left the fuck alone with your bad mood and misplaced rage. What you needed even more was to get some goddamn sleep.

“Right.”

“Just fuck off, Joel.” You say. And he does.

An hour later and you still haven’t left the kitchen. You haven’t seen Joel again either - he knew better than to bother you when you were like this. He’d just piss you off more, which hardly seemed fair when he wasn’t the one to piss you off to begin with. You were the one to piss yourself off to begin with. You’d barely gotten more than a full night's sleep across 4 whole days, you were tired as hell, and the sleeplessness-induced irritation was starting to seep into every part of your day. You didn’t want to inflict your bad mood on anyone, but you would if it came to it, just to be left the fuck alone in peace and quiet.

Slamming doors as you tidy away the things you'd used that day, you continue to stomp around the kitchen. It was your mess. You'd used the coffee pot. You'd used a mug, a spoon, a plate. But it still pissed you the fuck off and you were trying to conceal the blind rage that was flowing through you.

You slam yet another door, putting a plate away - why did you use a fucking plate instead of eating over the sink - and suddenly your front is crushed against the counter, a warm, solid mass pushed against your back and strong arms boxing you in either side. Joel. You could hit him. You could fucking hit him. But you don't.

“Fuck off, Joel.” You say through gritted teeth, gripping the counter in front of you.

“When did you last sleep?” He growls in your ear. You feel his warm breath ghost the side of your face. How the fuck did he know. As if it wasn’t obvious.

You don’t answer, and he nudges a shoulder forward, momentarily pushing you more firmly against the counter to get you talking.

“At night.”

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he sighs. “Which night, smartass.”

You’d taken the opportunity given by the movement of his arm to slip out from where he’d pinned you. You were not in the mood to play this game.

“I don't know.” You sneer at him as you fold your arms over your chest. It may have been childish, but you didn’t care.

“Yeah you do.”

“I said I don’t -”

“Yes. You fuckin’ do.” He was stern now, pointing a finger at you, daring you to be a smartass one more time. “Because I know it sure as fuck weren't last night.”

Busted. “The night before.” Looking away, you busy yourself with folding a dish towel.

“Really.” It’s not a question. Joel cocks an eyebrow at you with a twist of his head.

Shrugging your shoulders, you mumble back to him. “Couple hours.”

“And the night before that?”

“Didn't know you were the fucking Spanish inquisition.”

He cocks an eyebrow. Again.

“A couple fucking hours, Joel. Now fuck off and leave me alone or I swear I'll -”

He grabs you as you’re about to slap the dish towel onto the counter in anger and pulls you forward into his chest. His nose is practically touching yours and his eyes are impossibly dark.

“Shower. Now.” He means it, but you resist, trying to pull from his arms. You're pissed off. Now is not the time for him to be telling you what to do.

“No, I-”

“Get in the fucking shower.”

You can feel your top lip preparing to curl itself into a snarl. 

Instead, you turn on your heel and head for the shower.

You’re still damp, wrapped in nothing but a towel, when you exit the bathroom.

“You done?”

Joel is stood there at the foot of the bed, his t-shirt already discarded somewhere in the room. His belt is unbuckled and he’s beginning to unbutton his jeans and pull down the fly. You can’t help but stare. The sleep-deprived rage that’s flowed through you all day feels an awful lot like arousal when your brain is too muddled to know which way is up. And when you’re looking at Joel. Especially when you’re looking at Joel. 

You gawk at the hard planes of his body. Broad shoulders, muscle built from years of working on construction sites, and a softness around the edges given to him by the comforts you know he loves so much.

It’s only 6pm. You were now more tired than angry, some of your anger washed away in the shower, somewhere between scrubbing your body and rinsing conditioner from your hair. 

You float toward the dresser and open a drawer, planning on readying yourself for bed - you suspect that’s the plan anyway. “Shower and bed” is your usual routine, after all. You distantly register that he’s talking again, but the words don’t compute until he’s twisting your head toward him with a firm finger on your chin.

“No panties. Get on the bed.” He cocks his head toward the plush bed in the middle of the room. You don’t move. “Get on the fucking bed.”

Dropping your towel, you move to the bed. You’re compliant. So tired you’ve given up. So tired, the rage can’t take hold in the same way any more. So tired, you’d do just about anything to get a few hours sleep. The fight in you has all but fucked off. For now.

Your limbs feel like lead as you pull yourself onto the comforter and fall back somewhere toward the center of the mattress. You’re too tired for grace right now. You just need to sleep. If only you could fucking sleep.

There’s a rustle of discarded jeans, and a moment later, the mattress is shifting under Joel’s weight and the heat of him radiates up you as he shifts his body on top of yours. At some point your knees were knocked apart and his own had settled between them, but you don’t remember exactly how. All you're focused on is the heat of him. 

A large hand ghosts over your hip, down the soft swell of your thigh and between your legs. He starts stroking gently at the soft skin of your inner thighs. Moving up, and up, and up, he switches sides just before meeting the apex of your legs and moves to give your other thigh attention.

You don’t know if you’ve been breathing, but you’re not dead yet so you must have remembered at some point. All you know is you’re somehow sensitive and numb in equal measure - feeling everything so harshly, but so distantly.

Soft kisses are being pressed to you - your neck, jaw, temples, chest. Up and down, just like his hands. The movement of him could send you off, but the heat above of him is burning through you too much for you to be lulled to sleep.

Swapping from side to side, he caresses your soft flesh until he’s so impossibly close to your center yet not close enough to be touching. A soft sweep of his hand over your cunt, and you’re pulled from your daze with a jolt.

“Joel, I said I don't want to come.” You try to be firm, gripping his arm and lightly tugging, but you don’t want to be. You do want to come. You’re tired, you didn’t want it before, and you’re being stubborn because fuck you always are, but now that he’s here - now that he’s there - you want it.

“I ain't makin’ you come. I'm gettin’ this pussy wet so I can fuck it.” He says it so matter of factly you could headbutt him.

Instead, your mouth falls into an o-shape and you stare at him. Your grip on his arm weakens, partly with your resolve, and partly with exhaustion.

“I -”

“Shut up.”

“But I -”

The firm fingers that were caressing your thighs so softly a moment ago are suddenly gripping your chin hard, and your eyes snap directly to his. “I said shut the fuck up.” He lands a gentle peck on your lips before releasing you, trailing his hand back down the contours of your body. His nose brushes up and down the side of your neck and jaw, occasional soft kisses being pressed to the sensitive skin there as he breathes you in. 

You are floating.

His fingers meet your folds again, relentlessly teasing and stroking the softness of your labia, a flare of something coursing through you that stokes a fire no longer built of rage, but arousal.

Joel looks down the stretch of your body as he feels at your entrance, parting you with two fingers. Teasing, he swirls his finger tip just outside of you, collecting the veritable oil slick you'd generated in the last few minutes of his careful teasing.

“There we go. We got there, huh?” He almost sounds condescending and you want to slap off the smug look you know is on his face.

“Now. Here's what we're gonna do.” He murmurs into your ear as he still teases around your cunt, dipping a little further in but never down to a knuckle. 

“You're goin’ to shut the fuck up and take what I give you. Then you're goin’ to go the fuck to sleep whether you like it or not.” 

He pulls his finger from your cunt, and before you have a chance to protest the loss of sensation or his instruction, he’s slipping the slicked finger between your lips. Your brain stutters to a halt and all you can do is gently suckle on his digit, tasting the sweetness of your own pussy.

“That taste good?” He strokes your hair, your face, and a soft whine escapes you. “Yeah I know it does baby.”

He brushes your hair back as he takes his finger from your mouth and puts it into his own, tasting the remnants of you. You stare at him, dumb from sleep, dumb from the wetness you know must be dripping out of you. 

“I know.” He coos as he sits back on his haunches. His heat is so far away now, and you almost whine again until you feel him notch at your entrance. Your eyes widen. “I know.” He pushes in the weeping tip of his cock - you don’t know how long he’s been hard but you can feel it- and slides in with a gentle thrust. Rocking his hips, you take more and more of him until he slides home and pushes his hips until they’re flush with yours. 

You are so impossibly full, stretched without much warning, and your mind so deliciously blank that breathing has to become a conscious effort.

He pulls out slightly, giving you room to breathe, before pushing back in, deeper than before. “That's it. You take it. You're getting your medicine now, huh? I'm goin’ to come in this pussy and you're goin’ to go the fuck to sleep. Ain't ya? Huh? Answer me sweetheart.”

Practically going cross-eyed with the effort, you look him in the eyes. “Mhm.”

“Good. There's a good girl. Just take it and then you'll sleep. You been needin’ this. Too damn pissy for your own good to be able to ask for what you need.”

He’s fucking into you so deep, so gently that you can do nothing but quietly gasp with each rock of his hips into yours.

“Once you get some come in your pussy that'll send you right to sleep.” He’s right. You know he’s right and it’s all you want. You need it, but words are lost to you so you nod your head softly, before letting out a deep moan. He’s pushed himself even deeper and he’s holding there for a moment before releasing. He repeats the action a few times, and your moans get higher and higher pitched.

“I'm goin’ to get it nice and deep, just how you like it. This is where you need it, ain't it?” He pushes low on your stomach. He’s always been big, but like this he feels even bigger. You let out a whine. If you had the energy to sustain your rage and be fucked, you'd be furious at your own pathetic noises, but you were so past any of it.

“Yeah.” Too sleepy and too cockdumb, it’s the first word you’ve been able to utter for what feels like an hour.

“Oh, baby, I know, you're so tired.” He tuts and picks up the pace of his movements, his solid length slowly drawing out of your messy cunt before punching back in.

Maybe if you were even more tired, the smooth, rhythmic movement of his hips slapping against yours would let you drift off to sleep, but it has the opposite effect. You can’t possibly sleep now. You need him, you need more. He’s everywhere but not everywhere enough and your arousal pools and drips down from your needy hole, down the crevasse of your ass and onto the bed below. 

Words are gone again, so you whine, high pitched and needy.

“You're taking your medicine so good baby. So good.” His words shoot right fucking through you. You could come. Oh fuck, you want to come. But you don’t know the words anymore - you don’t know any words.

So you whine again.

“Oh, it's okay, it's okay.” He shushes you, kissing your temple. “I know what you need.”

He doesn't tease. He simply brushes a hand down between your legs, never breaking the rhythm of his cock thrusting in and out of your dripping cunt. He splays his fingers around your pussy for a second, feeling his length as it slides in and out of you, collecting your wetness in the process.

Those same fingers trail up and find their place on your neglected clit, circling lightly.

He searches your face, waiting for the connection of his fingertips with your clit to register in your eyes. There it is.

“That's it, huh? That right there.” He adds a firmer pressure to his fingertips as he swirls them around your slicked clit. Your eyes have glossed over and you let out a keening whine at his ministrations, your pussy already twitching around him. 

“Thank you. Thank you.” It’s barely a whisper, but it’s words, so you’ll take it.

“Oh now she's polite, huh. Gettin’ what she needs and suddenly she remembers her manners.” He teases. Asshole.

He was so good at this. All of it. He knew the exact buttons to push, the exact way to get you wet, the words to say, the way to be. If you wanted it hard he'd give it hard, if you wanted it gentle he'd give it gentle. And this, some delicious no-man's land in-between where his movements were gentle but his words were somewhat harsh, was sending you over the edge.

The rhythm of his fingers and cock is so in sync, so perfect, that you feel your whole body begin to quake as the beginning of your orgasm flares through you.

“Oh that's it, you fucking come. You come. Didn't even know you needed it huh. Don't even know your own pussy like I do, baby. You needed all this. Needed my cock in you, feelin’ so good, needed to come around me.”

Your walls flutter around his rock solid length, gripping him, and your legs clench, trying to snap shut but unable with the press of his body between your thighs. Your orgasm washes over you, briefly blinding you and you feel Joel’s fingers and thrusts speed up, fucking you through it and rocking you back and forth as your mouth opens in a silent scream. 

One ragged intake of breath later and you go limp against the mattress. Joel stills, removing his fingers from your oversensitive clit, stroking at your arm and making you twitch.

He nuzzles his nose into you and gives a deep press into you with his hips. You gasp and open your eyes. His face is softer now - no condescending wrinkle of his raised brows, no smirk.

“You gonna play stupid next time? Huh?” He softly traces a finger over your chin and mouth.

“No.” You try not to pout at him, you really do. You’re not sure you succeed.

“You gonna ask for what you need when you need it?” His finger moves to trace over your nose, your forehead.

You nod, soaking in the feeling of his hands, acutely aware of his cock still impaling you so deeply. “Mm.”

“Good. Good girl.” He mumbles into your mouth, kissing you, licking at the seam of your lips.

With a sudden movement he pulls out and snaps his hips forward, swallowing your gasp with his mouth.

You’re fucked out and exhausted, but he’s not finished.

“You're gonna take this come now.” He practically whispers it, and you want to scream with how it reignites every nerve ending in your body to his touch. “I'm gonna come in this pussy and then we're getting those panties on you.” His head ticks over to the dresser, where the drawer still lies open from earlier. Oh. You’d forgotten about that.

“Then, you're goin’ the fuck to sleep.”

“Mm.” You nod weakly. You'll do anything. Anything he says.

“We'll deal with the messy panties when you wake up, sweetheart. See how much of a mess I make in you.” 

His movements barely speed up, barely get harder, but you know he's close. He’s been close for a while - he likes it when you fight but he likes it when you’re feeble too. 

"Yeah. Ohhhh - fuck - yeah." He doesn't stop moving, fucking you in the same steady rhythm as he empties himself deep into your cunt, thick ropes of come filling you and making you feel even more impossibly warm and wet as it leaks out of you already, still stuffed full of Joel's cock.

"Fuck. There we go.” He says with a sigh, stroking your shoulder and kissing your neck. “There we go baby.”

His cock twitches as it starts to soften, but he holds it, and his come, inside of you for a moment until it’s an impossible task.

You’re delirious from the orgasm, from the constant rhythm of Joel’s fucking setting a metronome up in your body, and from so little sleep.

A deep kiss is pressed to your lips, you try to catch it and return the pressure, but your reflexes are so slow that he’s away and sliding out of you before you can even register what’s happening. Another stroke of your shoulder and his weight is suddenly off of you completely.

You could float away without him there to tether you down.

Distantly, you hear the slide of a drawer in the dresser. You're dozing when he slides one foot then another into the legs of your panties, before pulling them up your legs to your knees. Fingertips ghost up your legs, and meet at your dripping core. He looks at the mess made of your pussy, clicks his tongue, and he fingers some of the escaped come back into you with two thick fingers.

“Up.” His voice gruff with post-orgasm relaxation and his fingers still gently moving inside of you. You lift your hips, probably barely, but it's the most you can give right now. Joel shimmies them up the rest of the way with one hand, and pulls his fingers from inside you once they're settled in place.

He rubs the soaked seat of your clean panties. "We'll keep that right there, right where you need it.”

"Mm." You nod, barely seeing him now through the haze of your sleepiness and that post-fuck haze. He was right. You did need it. He was always right.

Another soft kiss is pressed to your temple, and you feel a soft caress across your arms, shoulders, neck, face. 

Just as you register the cold you feel without him on top of you, you feel the weight of a soft blanket fall over you. Your eyes are impossibly heavy now, but you realize you haven’t been seeing anything for a while anyway. You almost don’t recall ever being angry - your frustration from the day flipped into arousal so quickly, and melted away with the waning of your orgasm.

“Sleep.” His voice is so deep and so inviting. Your body so relaxed and ready to give in to him, give in to sleep.

You’d been chasing sleep for weeks, only for it to evade you. Being given dregs of what your body would let you have. But this time, for the first time in weeks, you don’t let your eyes fall closed, you close them. You don’t let sleep take you, you take hold of it. 

“Sweet dreams, darlin’.” And you’re gone.

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