#a little girl who was taken advantage of

[dirtytransmasc]

how do y'all think Alicent + the Green kids would react to seeing their little selves. like if they saw them in some life like, vaguely magical, dream.

Alicent seeing herself prior to queen Aemma's death, or perhaps right after, right before she stopped being a child, and was terrified as to what was to come, feeling in her gut something bad was going to happen. would she hold her like she had Dyana? trying so badly to protect her, to keep her safe, while knowing she didn't have the power to do so, that it was pointless. Would she tell her it wasn't her fault, that she was sorry she had to go through so much pain, that she didn't deserve it?

Aegon seeing a little boy who had yet to do anything wrong, who had yet to be labeled bad or a disappointment, who was still under the illusion that he was loved unconditionally. what would he feel towards this naive and innocent little boy? would he hug him? would he cry? what would he say when this little boy who was still good and kind enough to ask him why he was upset and clumsily wipe away his tears? would he hold him like he struggles to do with his own children, pulling him a little too close and squeezing a little too tight? would he whisper to him that he was loved, that even when she was tough on him, their mother loved him so much? would he warn him, to tell him to be a better brother, to drink less?

what would Aemond do when he saw himself unmaimed? what would he do when he saw himself made meek and small by the bullying he faced. would he offer him advice? would he tell him it gets better? would he hug the boy to his side? or would he feel disgusted looking at himself, a version of himself he just wants to forget? would he walk away from him, rejecting himself because he cannot bear to remember being that pathetic.

what would Helaena do if she saw her little self, so innocent, too young to understand the weight of her dreams and prophecies? would she listen to her, because her words often fell on deaf ears? would she share he knowledge so her younger self did not feel so alone in her interests? would she comfort her in the ways she craved to be comforted but no one ever understood her needs when she was young? would she warn her about the future, or allow her to be content in her ways? would she tell her that Mother tries very hard, she just doesn't understand, and that it doesn't mean she loves her any less?

#the greens have so many issues #and I love them so much #not one of them is ok in the head #I don't know enough about Dearon to do one on him I'm sorry #the internalized issues aemond has to have is wild #and aegon just wanting to be loved even after he started to self destruct only to meet his little self and breaking down #cause that pain had been with him since he could remember #alicent struggling to look at her you fer self cause all she can see is a victim #a little girl who was taken advantage of #helaena knowing that she *knew* her fate but didnt understand till she got older #trying to treat herself how she longed to be treated all her life #just shoot me #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #hotd #team green #pro team green

[shima-draws]

The fact that this won’t even be the LAST time Sanji gets horribly manipulated by another woman. I’m just 😔

#HE’S A SIMP and girls take advantage of that too often 😭 #AND THE FACT THAT he still forgives them anyway!! Even after putting him through hell!! #Listen say what you want about Sanji but there’s no denying that he’s. SUCH a good person #Too good of a person who is endlessly kind and caring and forgiving #Sanji gives and gives and gives and never takes. He’s so stupidly selfless sometimes it makes me want to cry #And people take advantage of that so often :’( #HE’S A GOOD BOY!!! He doesn’t deserve this #Shima speaks #One Piece #Sanji #Black Leg Sanji #He literally became my favorite (besides Luffy) for this exact reason #The fact that he’s so self sacrificing. The fact that he gives himself entirely to other people #And doesn’t expect anything in return #And has so little self worth I just. FUCKING hell dude. #His attempted sacrifice at Thriller Bark was a really big thing too #’They can always find another cook’ that was probably his thought process #BUT SANJI MY LOVE. THEY CAN NEVER FIND ANOTHER SANJI. ANOTHER YOU #If Sanji had taken Zoro’s place he WOULD have died. And that would have fucking torn Luffy APART #SLAMS MY HEAD INTO THE GROUND UGHHH SANJI. I LVOE YOU

[autistic-katara]

why does tumblr keep recommending me terfs- what am i doing wrong?

#i’ve blocked like every tag i can think of #if ur a terf/radfem/whatever and u see this disrespectfully i hope u die #oh sorry was that not innocent little girl who was taken advantage of by an evil moment enough for u? 🥺 #ur guys’s ideology has almost killed me get the fuck off my dash #anti terf #anti radfem #fuck terfs #transgender

[d3eathcurbing]

I truly do not understand how anyone thinks Amanda is evil, like even in the beginning while I was watching CoryxKenshin play the game I felt scared FOR her not of her. If anything it would make more sense not to trust Wooly especially with the information given on the hidden tapes.

#me thinking #amanda the adventurer #wooly the sheep #homestly i dont like alot of the language being used to describe her AT ALL especially knowing shes a black little girl whos been #taken advantage of by a corporation

[maddy-ferguson]

i wish the internet had never learned the term prefrontal cortex because people use it to make 25 the new 18 which is so strange

#like is 17-19 predatory no and it's stupid to say you have to wait until midnight on the younger person's birthday to be in contact with #them even if you're only 366 days apart. and now people are like someone who's 20 can still be taken advantage of which yes obviously but #they're like it's because their brain is not done yet. at 24 you are a baby and at 25 you're a grown woman. but actually not really because #chris evans married someone who's 26 but that's close to 25 so she's not old enough. her brain has only been done for five minutes so it's #actually terrible that they're together. like there's saying that young adults are still vulnerable and...young and then there's pushing #the idea that women are just little girls forever lmao. #and it's just so weird that people use the brain thing so much i can't say why exactly but it rubs me the wrong way #i'm not saying this because i'm only 22 and people who say that would talk about me like i'm 14 because i wouldn't even date anyone who's #significantly older than me or anyone who's like under 20. but yeah😭 #and i'm not even saying that the phenomenon of men always dating younger and women always dating older (even if it's just like 2 years) #and not vice versa isn't worth examining i'm literally a sociology student i'll be the first to say everything's interesting. but like #what's the end goal here #even in more extreme cases when a 25-year-old woman marries someone 40 years her senior i'm always like well i would never do that #but what are you random person on the internet gonna do. #and the thing is there's always potential power dynamics like you would have to be dating yourself to avoid it and even then #and like i say: brf slt

[thetrgger]

A depressed and lonely guy trying to kill himself but cant and Aphrodite comes and tells him she made him immortal and must bring her the most beautiful person ever to lift his curse. He does this for years and years but gives up and goes to Aphrodite and bam he is immortal now cause he was the most gorgeous person in all the realms and Aphrodite was being wholesome and he dies an old happy man and goes to Elysium.

#wholesome #greek mythology #aphrodite #greek gods #she does this to a lot of people because shes the god of love and she thinks that means she has to love everyone #she doesnt actually but she refuses to listen to the other gods and does anyway #she also helps little girls who get taken advantage of by older men #she buries rapists in the cement and concrete in the roads and goes teehee

[inkykeiji]

you dont have to reply to this if this is too personal a question! but would you consider your childhood + upbringing more toxic than others? my dad also has addictions along with a mental health diagnoses and its hard to talk about it to people, even my friends, who think addiction is like the show Euphoria (this show on hbo) but like some parts of youre writing is like a mirror image of situations ive been in with my family! it just feels real reading your stuff in an amazing way

tw: trauma + clari overshares!

absolutely, 100%. my father was and still is extremely abusive on top of all of his other issues, and my mother also has a severe mental illness. my house was constant turmoil and i used to cry when the school day would end because i didn’t want to go home. it was extremely unstable and i grew up walking on eggshells trying not to trigger one or both of my parents, as well as acted as an emotional punching bag often. i had to do things and witness things no child should ever have to go through, and i cannot express to you how utterly alone i felt, growing up in a small town where it seemed as though everyone else had these wonderful home lives and loving parents and just an overall great childhood. none of my friends understood anything and for a long time, when i was very young, i couldn’t figure out why everything was so much worse at my house than it was for anyone else around me.

so i totally and completely understand where you’re coming from. it’s really rough and it feels incredibly isolating. even now, i don’t have any in real life friends who can understand even in the slightest what i had to go through as a child, and while they’re fantastic listeners and so sweet and so sympathetic, they cannot and will never get it (and i’m glad about that obv! i’d never wish what i went through as a kid on anyone). please know that you are not at all alone in feeling like no one else can truly understand.

i’m so happy and so grateful that i have this little community where i can share some of my work and provide comfort or catharsis or whatever they need etc for people like me, whether they experienced trauma as children or as adults or both. that’s so so special to me and it genuinely means the whole world to me <3 it makes me feel less alone and it brings me a ton of comfort!! so thank you for sharing this with me!!! i’m so sorry you’ve had to go through similar experiences :(( we did and do deserve so so so much better.

i am sending you bunches and bunches of love anon!!! <333 please take good care of yourself <3

#yeah it sucked so bad #also omg do you ever like #get triggered or overly upset when people are all ‘oh i wish i could go back to my childhood’ or reminisce about it????? #i hate feeling so fucking bitter about it because again i would never wish it upon anyone #but i guess i just mourn and weep for the little girl i was #i’m upset she didn’t get the happy childhood she deserved #i’m upset she was taken advantage of #i’m upset she suffered *so much* #my therapist says it’s good to mourn the childhood i never had so #i try to do that hahaha #definitely think it contributes at least a lil to my uhhhh childlike tendencies #not that anyone needs childhood trauma to justify that of course #people of all ages are allowed to enjoy cute stuff like stuffies etc and anyone who tells you otherwise is an asshole #buT ANYWAY #i’m rambling now hehe #the point is: you are not alone #i know how tough it is and how incredibly difficult it feels #and i’m sorry you’re feeling so isolated #but please just know you are not alone #i am giving u a biiiig hug!!!! #please enjoy ur night bb n drink some water!! stay safe!!! #inky.bb #clari gets mail #clari overshares

[loisroo]

ohhhhhh min woo is a little bitch. i’m gonna say something that many people are gonna dislike but i don’t care.

if you feel ‘attacked’ and upset that you have to adjust your own worldview/environment so people can receive equal treatment or when people start to receive equal treatment in general —then that’s a you problem.

even before this episode (seven) where min woo feels like he has evidence that young woo is getting special treatment, min woo had been stuck on young woo receiving special treatment. he’s jealous, confused and frustrated because he already has an idea in his head of what autism is and doesn’t think there is any way young woo could make it on her own. even after she is constantly helping and winning cases, even once she proves that she has a right to be there. he just ignores her growth and he can’t just admit — young woo is a good attorney.

for me the fact that young woo’s father said he would be a bad dad if it meant she could keep the opportunity that was given to her no matter what, no matter why, because she wouldn’t get another. that right there should be enough for someone to understand that young woo hasn’t received special treatment ever. the law firm correcting its mistake about discriminating against young woo (no matter the ceo’s secret reason) is the right thing to do. and if anything min woo highlighting the hiring practice mistake should show this fact more then prove him right.

#extraordinary attorney woo #like your feelings are valid bro #even soo yeon when she was talking about the whales and wanting to slap young woo #maybe a little dramatic but also valid #but that’s your feelings and your own nonsense #go to therapy #talk about it #but lashing out and talking about getting someone fired #that’s a whole person that already has everything stacked against her and you say IM MAD IM NOT AS COOL SO ITS SPECIAL TREATMENT #if closing blinds to make someone more comfortable bother you then ask why #if asking clarifying questions and not being comfortable being wrong bother you then think about why #if communicating with a person diagnosed with autism is hard for you then figure out why and how you can fix it #like jesus i hate when we decide that having to accommodate anyone makes them less then #i know a lot of its historical/societal and a global consumer economy mixed with a lack of knowledge #but this idea that if someone doesn’t fit this very specific mold they aren’t as valuable makes me angry #nuerodivergence and disabilities and mental health do not make a person weak or different or less human #like this girl always got first but who was her actual friend? did professors talk with her and help her the same way? #how hard was it to do presentations? group projects? mock trials? #did she still get hit and taken advantage of after high school? did the im sorry game continue? #if someone giving her a seat in a car feels like special treatment and that’s all you can think of then the problem is you #or at least reflect on yourself #oh man I got on a ranting soapbox again

[katszumi]

“you know, your eyes kinda resemble a ruby.” you slurred your words. your chin rested in the palm of your hand, elbow digging in the table below you.

bakugou snorted, his eyes never wavering from yours. “what made you think of that shit?”

you lifted your shoulders, quickly dropping them.

“do i need a reason?”

“to be thinking about nonsense? yes.” he answered his own question. his response caused an eye-roll out of you.

you grabbed the small glass in front of you, finishing the shot you set down earlier to save for later.

“that’s your fifth shot of the night.” bakugou intercepted the silence. he sat upright in his chair, his arms folded across his chest.

you gulped the remains of the liquor, swiping your tongue across the bottom of your lip.

“and you’re on your what? like second?” you remarked.

bakugou wasn’t a drinker. everyone knew that. he preferred to be sober, always offering to be the designated driver whenever the group wanted to have a night of fun.

but tonight was his pro-hero debut party. all of his friends and old schoolmates were there, so he figured if he were to drink, tonight was the perfect time.

also, who was he to decline having a drink with a pretty girl?

his eyes glanced at your now wet lips which unfortunately didn’t go unnoticed from you. “two is plenty.”

you leaned forward, reaching your hand towards bakugou’s shirt. your fingers grazed the top button of his shirt. slowly, you unfastened it. “there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun, katsuki.”

due to the sudden proximity, he could smell the alcohol coming from your breath, but he couldn’t bring himself to resist your actions.

you continued to the second button. “take this time to relax.” you raised your hands once more, your fingers now grazing his neck to uncuff the collar of his shirt.

now, you leaned away from him, returning to your previous position. “now you look like a man that’s ready for the night.”

bakugou dropped his shoulders and leaned back in his chair, turning his head sideways. he couldn’t refuse the blush that was coming onto his face nor could he hide it. he knew you were staring right into his soul. he was also aware that you loved to tease him like that.

“unhinged. i swear you are.” was the only thing bakugou could muster.

ever since he’s known you from u.a, you were always that daring girl who was so unpredictable. there was never a dull moment with you.

but that was also what made you so dangerous for him.

a laugh parted your lips. “been called worse.”

“bullshit.” he called it, looking into your eye once again. “like what?”

“irresponsible,” you started count on your fingers.

“i can see it.” bakugou shared his input.

“arrogant,”

he rolled his eyes, “heard my fair share of that one too.”

“impulsive,”

“accurate.”

“provocative.”

bakugou moved his head in a notion like he was deciding between two things. “nah.”

you furrowed your brow, squinting your eyes in confusion. “what is that supposed to mean?”

“provocative sounds like a slutty word.” he simply responded. “i think you know you’re attractive, and you know how to use it to your advantage. not a bad thing at all.”

you paused for a moment, your lips parting from shock. a small grin began to form on your face. “did bakugou katsuki just call me attractive?”

the male scoffed, “don’t act like this is news to you. ‘m sure you heard it plenty times before.” he brushed it off.

“just didn’t think you of all people would willingly say that.”

bakugou chuckled to himself. he raised his finger in the air, indicating for the server assigned to your table to bring him another drink.

“unlike you, not everyone needs five shots of liquor in their system to confess something.” undoubtedly, it was shot taken at her, one that you couldn’t refuse the growing smile on your face.

“oh? since when did you decide to get so bold?”

“someone’s actions tend to rub off on me.”

“they must be foolish.”

once again, bakugou’s ruby eyes lowered to your lips. undeniable. how could his heart ever stand a chance when you treat him this way? did you not understand he loved a challenge?

“yeah, an irresistible fool.”

“please, i’m anything but a fool.”

“don’t flatter yourself; who said i was talking about you?” he opted to lie.

you leaned forward slightly, “with the amount of times you keep staring at my lips, it’s not hard to notice it’s taking everything in you to resist me.” your voice lowered in volume, for his ears to catch only. “therefore, irresistible.”

bakugou took his time to respond, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk. “this must be that arrogant side of yours coming out.”

“one, not necessarily arrogance if it’s true. two, i’m attractive and i know how to use it to my advantage.” you recited his own words.

“this something you do with all your flings?”

you gave him a playful confused look. “do what?” intentionally, your voice had an innocent tone to it.

“drink with them. tease ‘em. nearly undress them. flirt with them in front of an audience?” bakugou could feel his patience slipping. like a sand hourglass, only a few grains left at the top waiting to fall to the bottom.

it had to have been from the shots that made him so precariously bold. but he couldn’t walk away. not when he has you in the palm of his hands— maybe even the other way around.

you propped your elbow on the table once more, cupping your own cheek. you gazed at bakugou through your lashes.

“if i had other flings, you think i’d be here with you all night?”

“don’t know. good question actually.” purposely, he played stupid.

you paused. “there are no others,” you knew that was the answer he was searching for. luckily for him, you didn’t mind giving it to him. “just you.”

bakugou nodded slowly, basking in the information. he could feel his heart flutter from the confession, a huge wave of relief washing over him.

“good. was startin’ to think you were actually considering the guy over at the bar.” of course, bakugou plays it off as a joke. even with the small liquor in his system, it was still difficult for him to admit his true feelings.

but you were fine with it. because even with the guard he pretends to have up, you can feel even with the slightest touch how much he cares for you. bakugou may be loud, cheeky, maybe a bit conceited, but he wasn’t a good liar. you always saw through his facade no matter what lies he decided to spew.

you scoff. “oh, shut up.” you fight a smile. “the guy at the bar doesn’t have the ruby eyes i like so much.”

“here you go with this stupid shit.”

-

i ’d do anything to flirt with katsuki late at night, both of us tipsy. god please im beggin

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #katsuki smut #katsukibakugou #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo my hero academia #bakugou katuski x reader #my hero academia bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugo katuski #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou fluff #ao3 bakugou #katsuki bakugō #katsuki bakugo fanfiction #katsuki bakugo x y/n

[direquail]

I think what bothers me most about how John is talked about in the fandom is the implication that a different (implied: better) person would've done things differently and somehow more right than he did.

When the text goes to lengths to explore how suddenly coming into an incredible amount of power in a fatally constrained situation cannot lead to a good outcome.

If you're putting John in dialogue with the concept of the "magical girl", which Muir has said he is (a little tongue in cheek, but)--these are young, often profoundly unready people, who often get taken advantage of by the people who give them their powers. And like, yes, John is not a teenager, but I think that's part of the point, is that at no point is a person really prepared to become as powerful as he did--even before he merged with Alecto. Even when he was fully in control of his powers, even when they were given with honest intent and trust, even when he used them with the best of intentions and tried to do the right thing, there was no way for him to be prepared, especially given the situation he was in.

And it's funny to talk about how bad John must be in bed, but also, this isn't a scenario where John is some self-deluding Elon Musk-like villain or loser. He is genuinely trying to do the right thing, in terms of rescuing the Earth's population, rescuing the Earth Herself, and doing it ethically (see: M--'s insistence that they perfect the cryo containers until they could transport pregnant women).

I really do think this is something people are blocking out, because it is one of the uncomfortable parts of Muir's message with the series. But ESPECIALLY because the people "critiquing" him as an embodiment of patriarchy and empire are failing to see that part of Muir's critique is of human vulnerability to power: That is, that power corrupts.

And this even has echoes with Gideon & Harrow's story! Harrow begins the series in a deeply unequal dynamic with Gideon! And she does horrible things, not just because she is traumatized, but because she is traumatized and has the power to act her desires out on Gideon. She might have the motive (trauma), but that's not enough without the means (power).

And, yeah, I do have a semi-salty angle on this because people are frequently loath to think critically not just about axes of oppression but individual relationships of power when it applies to them and to people they like. ESPECIALLY when there is a very vocal segment of the fandom that is enthusiastically pro-harassment. It's very convenient to villainize John and actively dis-identify with him, because otherwise, you'd have to face the question of whether you'd do any better in his place. But the thing is, the mission of revenge he embarks on is a lot closer to many peoples' hearts than they'd like to consider.

That's the whole point.

#the locked tomb #john gaius #tlt meta #and let's be real--this is made easier by the fact that john is a man #given who the author is that's a meaningful choice. but it's not an uncomplicated one either

[tojisun]

simon ghost riley x fem reader

!! smut - minors dni; extended foreplay teehee (fingering); mentioned switching

simon hums, the sound rumbling from the base of his throat. you startle, your eyes ripping open and you swivel to turn to him, forgetting, for a moment, that he's here.

that he's been watching you.

he smirks like he noticed; knowing him, he definitely did. still, it makes you self-conscious and you go to shut your legs close, hoping to shield yourself from his gaze, but simon moves so quickly, his warm palm landing on the inside of your thigh to push it down.

"no-"

"shh," he says. "y've got nothin' to be shy about, baby." he grins, all dangerous and mean. “we both know you've long crossed that bridge.”

you huff, rolling your eyes even when you let yourself be manhandled to the position he wants you in—spread open for him; presented for him.

he rumbles in pleasure, eyes darkening in rippling desire.

"c'mon, pretty, girl," simon murmurs, his fingers tickling the sensitive expanse of your inner thigh, making you tremble. "y'were just showing me how you play w'yourself when i'm not around."

the reminder makes you hiccup, shyness creeping up in slow drawls. you feel warmth filling up your cheeks and you duck down, hiding away from the intensity of his honeyed eyes.

simon chuckles. “such a doll, aren’ya?”

you ignore him and the way his words make your face burn, choosing instead to return to what you were doing—your fingers trembling as they begin to tease along your folds again. the previous sensitivity that you were riding off of has petered away but it was so easy to re-spark it, especially now that simon is touching you. the loose hold he has on your ankle makes your skin thrum and you use the hyperawareness to ramp up the flicking desire into an explosion of untethering euphoria.

your fingers aren’t enough—simon made sure, after all, that your body can only ever cum because of him—but he’s so close. he’s watching you and you take advantage of the attention.

you moan his name, a breathy little thing that rasps itself out from the base of your throat.

“si- si-!”

there is something doctored in the way you mewl, but who can blame you? yes, you’re giving him something to watch, but you’re desperate for more. you try your best to rile him up because you’re desperate for his own fingers or, and this one truly makes your breath hitch, his cock.

simon’s beautiful, beautiful cock.

god, the way it curves. the way the head is pink because simon’s so pale all over. the way his pre- beads like pretty pearls, always has you lolingl your tongue out to catch them before they drip. the way his veins surround the expanse of his girth, drawing his cock to look so macho, especially when you close your first around it.

“fuck-!”

thinking about simon’s cock makes you even wetter, slick gathering between your fingers. you punch the length of them as deep as they can go, crooking them and spreading them apart as your orgasm begins to build, pooling in your belly, making your toes curl.

“simon, please!”

your moans are more honest this time. more truthful despite the pitch that they’ve taken.

“need y’r cock. need y- no!”

you tear your eyes open—you didn’t realize you’ve even shut them tight—at the feeling of simon’s fist closing around your wrist, holding it steady, making you freeze. the peak of your orgasm crumbles, your legs trembling at the feeling of having it be ripped from you.

“no!” you cry again, thrashing. “why’d you stop me?! wanna cum, please, baby? wanna cum, please!”

“shit, lovie,” simon rasps out, looking dishevelled himself. your eyes flick down to his waist and you realize, with a coo, that he’s taken his cock out to palm himself while watching you.

you bite down a smile at the realization—you’ve won.

“y’almost made me jealous of y’r pretty fingers,” he croaks. you track the way his chest heaves, his muscles and his pecs rippling underneath the tight shirt he’s wearing. “lemme fuck you now, yeah, baby? y’want that?”

you lick your bottom lip, trilling to yourself when simon’s sharp eyes zone in on the action and tracking it with vivid intensity.

you hum then, teasing, and you shake his hold off of your wrist which simon easily acquiesces. he watches as you pull your fingers out of your cunt, slow and deliberate, before presenting them to him, the length of them having a thin sheen because of your slick.

“lick f’r me?” is what you reply to him instead.

simon full body trembles before circling your wrist for the second time today. this time, though, with a different purpose. he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he drops his jaw open to take your fingers in.

you mewl at the same time that simon groans and, you wonder, if you can last another round after this. maybe you’d bring out your strap then.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley #female reader #suns

[futureman]

old dogs don't change

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

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

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

word count: 10.6k

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

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

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

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

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

If only they knew what really happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Asshole.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good. Now he knows how it feels.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Much different than Joel. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Whose girl are ya?"

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

"Yours, Joel."

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

"Damn right, you are—"

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

Jesse.

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

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

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

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

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

"Only here. Right, Joel?"   

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He won’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But your luck's officially run out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's my girl."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not going anywhere, Joel.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me why you broke up with me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m too fuckin’ old for you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Take me home, Joel."

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

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

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

thanks for reading!

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

[judithhhh]

an angsty one w judeee! like they're having a bad fight over smnth and they go to bed in seperate rooms still upset. reader comes out in the middle of the night for like idk a glass of water or something and sees a bouqet of flowers on the kitchen counter that Jude must have went out and got after their fight. with them is a little note like an apology or something and its so sweet and they make up ! :)

love note (one-shot)

jude x reader

summary: read the request!

thx for your request, hope u like this :)

fighting with jude was the last thing you had planned to do in the only week he was available to come see you. but there you were, going to sleep in another room and actively ignoring the man instead of enjoying the few moments that were given to you to spend with your boyfriend. you hated the rare but still real screaming matches you had with him. the reason was always something stupid and you two’s bad temper only made things worse. this time, he was the one who started it, mad that you had still not decided if you wanted to join him in madrid or stay in england. at first you had tried to calmly explain to jude that you had your own life here and that leaving everything behind was not a easy thing but your calm tone was replaced by harsh screamed words when he just would not understand your point. you said things you regretted, mentioning issues that you knew hurted him, but in the end you knew that you were right. jude couldn't deal with the fact that your entire life was not dedicated to him and he had to get over it.

trying your best to silence your sobs, you took your favorite blanket and pillow from your bedroom and went to install yourself in the guest room at the end of the hallway. you knew your boyfriend was downstairs, probably still fuming, and it allowed you to do your night routine without bumping into him. you were snuggled into the unfamiliar bed listening to your comfort show when you heard the front door slamming shut and you could not help the unhealthy thoughts that filled your mind. you trusted jude with all your heart but you worried that maybe he went to seek comfort from another girl. a girl that could give him her everything unlike you. you shook your head, still determined to stand your ground on your opinion, and decided to go to sleep. it took time for your mind to shut up and let you fall asleep but when it did jude had still not come back to your house.

you always had problems sleeping an entire night without waking up so it did not surprise you when your eyes shut open at four in the morning. usually, you would have taken advantage of jude being here and you would have snuggled into the man but obviously the current circumstances did not allow you to do so. you sighed and stretched your limbs before going downstairs to drink a glass of water. passing by your bedroom, you saw that the previously open door had been shut close signaling that jude was back. it gave your mind a bit of reassurance but you stayed upset. you did not open the lights and preferred to shuffle around in the dark for a glass. the view of your kitchen, plunged into darkness except from the moonray escaping from the slightly open blinds, gave you some comfort and you sat down on your couch slowly sipping your water. you were looking into the empty space in front of you when a moonray illuminated an object in your kitchen that was not usually there. opening the light in the room, you saw the flowers placed on the kitchen counter. you sighed realizing that jude still thought he could win you over with simple gifts like this. you still took the effort to fill up a vase and went to pick up the flowers to put them in it. when doing so, a small pink note you had not noticed before fell to the ground. you picked it up and read the words written on it.

‘’i love you more than anything, no matter where you are, no matter if you're close or far away from me. you're always in my heart and that's the only thing that counts. sorry for being such an asshole baby, i regret everything i said today. whether you choose to stay in england or go to madrid is your choice, and i respect it.

ps. i know you're probably gonna read this in the middle of the night, wake me up when you do.’’

at the end of the note, jude had drawn two wonky stickmans with a heart at the top, his attempt of drawing the two of you making you laugh. the sweet words brought tears to your eyes, you were quite a sensible person, but the last sentence made you chuckle. he really knew you more than anyone. you debated going to wake him up now or giving yourself the night to think about it but the idea of going back to an empty bed seemed way too depressive. you quietly made your way back upstairs and stopped infront of your bedroom door. you were apprehensive, a bit scared that this conversation would lead to another fight, but you opened it anyways. the sight of jude hugging a pillow made you smile, you knew he had missed your presence just as much as you missed his. you went and sat on the bed next to him and softly stroked the nape of his neck, knowing it was something that he enjoyed so much it would probably wake him up. jude seemed to wake up from his slumber as a few sighs escaped him. his eyes opened and you read the hint of stress in them as he saw sitting next to him.

‘’ you okay love?’’ he asked voice still raspy, just like you loved it

‘’mmh, i saw what you wrote’’

your answer woke him up entirely and he sat up to face you. his hand reached to fix your slightly messy hair before he dropped it back down, not sure if you wanted him to touch you right now. the two of you looked at each other without uttering a word for a few minutes until you decided to take the first step.

‘’i’m sorry for some of the things i said too, jude. didn't mean it really, i was just mad because of… well you know.’’

‘’you were mad for a reason, i was being unreasonable.’’

he sighed before continuing

‘’i miss you when you're not with me but i really do mean it, whether you stay here or come with me it's your choice and i love you.’’

‘’baby, i wanna come with you so bad. i just need time to organize everything here, you know. but i swear that when i’ll be ready, i’ll take the first flight to madrid and i'll join you there.’’

‘’you will, really?!’’ your boyfriend exclaimed, eyes light up

‘’yes jude, but that doesn't mean i'm going to be settled in madrid next week. it might take time’’

‘’i don't care my love, you just made me the happiest man by telling me you’re gonna join me’’

jude was smiling hard, his mind already thinking about the joy of having you close to him at all times. finding him absolutely adorable, you threw yourself on him and tucked your head into his neck. the boy laid back into bed with you in his arms.

‘’you don't ever talk to me like that again though’’ you whispered to your boyfriend

‘’never again baby i know’’

‘’and you don't go to sleep without wishing me a good night ever again’’

‘’you're the one who went to sleep in the other room’’

you side-eyed jude and he sighed telling you that he was only joking. laying in his arms, you felt tired yet again and was ready to go back to sleep. you lifted up your head to talk to your boyfriend but frowned seeing him already fast asleep. you lightly slapped his cheek and he woke up, surprised.

‘’i said to not go to sleep without wishing me goodnight jude bellingham!’’

‘’yeah, yeah good night baby love you” he said tiredly, falling back asleep immediately after

you sighed at his nonchalant behavior but was struck by a wave of fatigue and you too was back asleep in jude’s arms.

#football #football imagine #jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude x reader #football x reader #jude bellingham x reader #hey jude :)

[gorgynei]

barbie is not an "anti man" movie at all. it's so obvious to me that the kens were written like idiots not to call all men idiots (well... maybe a little) but instead to show how easy it is for someone to get taken advantage of. it's important to remember that while the barbies and kens are played by and written as adults, they function in the real world and overarching narrative as adolescents that don't know very much about the world.

reading ken as a young boy, he's initially nice to the girls around him (if insecure, lonely, and feeling pretty disrespected) but as soon as he steps into the real world, he sees all these men who feel very secure in their masculinity and self-assured, and he wants that for himself. he falls into the trap of the patriarchy much like a lot of young boys in real life fall into extremist right wing ideologies. but ken's insecurity never really goes away, it just gets covered with faux fur and headbands and country music. it's why he cries and admits to barbie that leading was hard. he never really wanted to hurt the barbies at all, he just wanted to feel confident and accepted by everyone, but especially barbie.

ken was never the problem by himself. he wasn't made into the world hating women. he was manipulated and turned into a misogynist by society.

#i was struggling to put my finger on why i felt so strongly that barbie is not ''man hating'' as a lot of ppl keep saying #and i finally figured it out. hoorah. #theres also the additional nuance of barbieland having a reverse world where men are oppressed and i think that definitely impacts #ken as an individual but ultimately i dont think the implications of a matriarchal society are relevant to the greater themes #and thesis of the film #ramblings #barbie #barbie spoilers

[fallenhunnyapple]

Some Baby Savior AU Expansion

This is an Adamsapple AU because I love them they have taken over my life. I'm sorry in advance because there's a lot going on and I'm bad at being succinct.

This AU works under the Assumption that Adam didn't Die to get into Heaven. He was Ascended while he was still alive as a 'reward' for staying 'good', having not eaten of the Fruit of Knowledge. But his children were still tainted because of their mother, and so while they were still young, the eldest still only being in their teens, he was taken away from them to stay safe in Heaven.

Also, there are yearly meetings held a week after Exterminations where Lucifer and Adam (and Lute) meet in order to discuss quotas, numbers, etc. They're mandatory as per the agreement.

So-

Lilith left Lucifer while Charlie was still just an infant and he had to raise her alone. It was Difficult and when Lucifer was Busy, Charlie spent a lot of time being watched by her Aunts and Uncles, the Sins. But he foolishly let himself trust the people of his ring once and they took advantage, an Overlord trying to vy for more influence hired someone to steal the Princess and hold her hostage. The night before the Extermination.

Lucifer is already overworked and stressed and now having his daughter kidnapped made him lose his mind and go on a full rampage, destroying part of Pentagram City in his blind rage and panic. Which, Great for the Exorcists as long as they keep out of his way because that means they can pick off all the freaked out and fleeing sinners.

And it's during this panicked frantic mess that Adam quite literally drops in on these shady sinners (through the ground because of Hell's shitty infrastructure) who try to Kill him. Surprise, Angelic Steel weapons are being manufactured and they can Hurt Angels. They're still no match for Adam, so he kills them, but not without getting nicked by a few bullets, his arm injured, his wing useless, and his mask a little shattered. And then he hears a fussy crying sound and finds a baby hidden in a nearby crate. Pale with cute red cheeks and golden hair. She reminds him of someone. And she reminds him of his youngest daughter the last time he saw her... Well, she's hellborne, so he wasn't going to kill her anyway. Maybe he'll just take her home with him and he can puppy dog eyes at Sera until she let him keep her!

But he can't fly with these injuries, so he needs to go to the Embassy where he knows Lute and his girls will be waiting for him. But the Embassy is really close to Lucifer's rampage zone. What's he being so insane about anyway? And after almost becoming collateral, and Adam Yelling at him, it clicks. Those red cheeks were familiar for a reason. She must be his kid. There go his plans for bringing her with him. And here he was picking out a name and everything : / He can't bring himself to hate her or to take her away from her dad when he's obviously so upset. It's Begrudgingly that he gets Lucifer's attention to give the baby back. He's attached to her now.

A week after the Extermination, there's a meeting. To discuss the use of Angelic Weapons in hell, to find out who and how they're being made and distributed and ending that production immediately. And Lucifer can't exactly trust anyone in Pride anymore so Charlie comes to the meeting. She's happy to see the weird Kitty again. Adam is Thrilled to see her and spends a good chunk of the meeting making silly faces to make her laugh.

This becomes Normal, Charlie coming to the meetings, too young to understand anything but excited to get to see Adam. She has very clearly gotten attached to him.

Many years pass (Charlie is over 200 years old, and I assume that means super slow aging so she's developmentally 6 years old) and Adam tells Lucifer to not bring Charlie to the meeting. Lucifer agrees and leaves her with Bee in Gluttony. At the meeting, Adam is there in person, pacing and stressed. Lucifer arrives to find him in that state and Adam breaks down, begging on his knees for Lucifer to keep him in Hell. He can't go back to Heaven. They're going to make him remarry Lilith and she's probably into pegging and he doesn't want to be pegged.

Lucifer tries to wrap his mind around the fact that Lilith is in Heaven. Adam feels a little guilty but what was he supposed to do? He couldn't force Lilith to go home and stop being a deadbeat Mom. Lucifer is Mad that Adam never told him Lilith was in Heaven, he knew how much of a struggle he was having without her. Adam tries to make excuses and reverts to begging again, saying they won't let him leave Heaven again if he goes back. And that hits a cord. Lucifer's angry about the thing with Lilith, but Charlie didn't know her mother. She knew Adam though, and he doesn't want her to go through the pain of losing someone important to her. Okay, he'll help keep Adam safe in Hell so Heaven can't get to him. And by that Point, Adam was reminded that there's a chance that Heaven might come after Charlie so actually he'd be staying regardless so he can keep an Eye on Charlie and keep her safe.

Unbeknownst to Adam though, Lucifer has a secret. He'd fallen in love with him. It's 100% because of seeing how good Adam is with Charlie. Charlie is Lucifer's Everything, she is the most important thing in his life and she likes and gets along with Adam and Adam clearly cares for her and that means more than anything else could. And he's in love because of it. But he doesn't tell Adam that.

Together Adam and Lucifer raise Charlie, they're Dad/Daddy and Dadam (Adam came up with it because actually being called a nickname for father reminded him too much of the kids he didn't get to see grow up). And when Charlie gets old enough to move out on her own, Empty Nest Syndrome kicks in. But in the "we're not raising a kid together anymore, we should go our separate ways" kinda way. Because the entire time Lucifer never said anything about his feelings so they'd been Platonically co-parenting for over a century while Lucifer pined.

Charlie finds out that Adam is thinking of moving out and panics because she thinks this means her dads are getting a divorce. She never knew they weren't married. She never knew they weren't even Together. Because they sure Seemed to love each other all those years! She tries to encourage her dad to tell Adam how he feels and he does. It doesn't go well. Adam doesn't believe it, he refuses. (And it's not because he doesn't love him, Adam has loved him consistently since Eden) But he just can't accept it and decides it's Definitely better to move out. Lucifer goes into a depressive isolated episode while Adam is out there going on week long Benders to try and cope. The Sins have to get involved once Charlie reaches out, worried about both of them because Lucifer is barely responsive and Adam is dismissive. Ozzie tries to find out what's going on with Lucifer and Bee is taking care of the doped up drunken depressed mess that is Adam, she knows how to deal with drunks.

The Sins and Charlie are going to help them sort out their shit so they can actually try to be happy together the way they should have been the whole time. That's about where the conversation's ended for now. Orz this is long

Gonna @ the people who seemed interested in more info @lordxsblog @fightinsoda

#hazbin hotel #baby savior au #adamsapple #guitarduck #charlie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin charlie #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #my art

[coeurify]

repost the period vampire ellie fic!

middle of the night,, vamp!ellie

a/n: this is a repost from early this year so excuse any change in writing style!

warnings: vampire!ellie. period sex. oral!r receiving fingering!r receiving. sort of a dreamy, less modern vibe. if u aren’t into it.. just don’t read it.

˚✦　.　　. 　  ˚　.　 . ✦　˚　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

Some times--Most times, you only saw her at night. When darkness enveloped the small town you called home, when the stars rocked the sleepy eyed humans to sleep and the moon hummed the lullaby that quieted the crickets outside, she came.

Only then did you ever hear the distinct creaking of the splitting wood on your window panes being pressed up. Only then did the white of your sheer curtains move with more than the wind, the grip of the air nothing compared to the long hand that often wrapped around the fabric and pushed it open. When the moon was the only light filtering into your room, you saw the green of her eyes.

Tonight was no different, despite one little issue. Often, the woman who visited you under the cover of midnight would arrive to your eyes closed in sleep. She would press a hand to your warm cheek before waking you, greeted by your sleepy excitement each time.

This time, you had not been able to sleep. A heat had taken over your body, tight in your stomach with a pain you would compare to that of claws gnawing at your insides. Sweat beaded between your brows with every swift turn under your uncomfortable sheets, lip tugged between your frustrated teeth to stop any whines of discomfort. That had been what your favorite visitor heard as her shaking palms found the wood of your window. Your pained grunts floated through her buzzing ears as she quietly made her way into your room, auburn hair messy behind her ears as her figure became visible, head tilted as she looked across the room to your heated body.

“El,” you whined, wiping your forehead with a hand, not at all concerned about her chosen point of entry. “Go away.”

Ellie’s gaze softened, a scoff sounding from behind your squeezed shut eyes. “Go away?” she mused, her voice much closer now.

The split second your eyes had been closed, Ellie had somehow silently made it to your bedside. You don't question it, you never do.

When a girl like Ellie sports small fangs and a taste for blood, her speed is the last thing you think to question.

“I don't feel well, don’t want you here.” you add, mouth pulled into pout as you look up at the freckled face of Ellie.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, bunny? Instead of shooing me away,” Ellie requests, sitting on the edge of your bed. Her cold hand finds your sweaty arm, sighing. “You’re burning up.”

Your neck tickles with heat as Ellie questions your current state, and you fall wordless. Somehow, it was more embarrassing to admit to your vampire visitor that you were starting your period than to simply tell her to leave. Obviously however, Ellie was not taking the second option as a valid answer.

“I started my period, nothing is helpin’ the cramps,” you explain softly, pressing your hand into the sheets of your bed to try and sit, to maybe find some sort of relief to the growing tension in your stomach. But the other set of hands is faster.

“Lay down,” Ellie insists, glancing down at you. You can almost see the cogs of her brain turning behind the evergreen in her eyes, a sort of fogginess settling over the color.

“Let me help you,” she eventually says.

“What? I told you nothi-”

Ellie presses her lips together to hush you, one wandering hand finding the dip of your hip, blunt nail tracing the goosebump coated flesh there. Sometimes she liked being so cold, simply because she enjoyed seeing how you reacted to it. If she was damned for what she was, she may as well use some of it to her advantage.

“What are you doing?” You couldn't help the shiver that followed her movements.

Suddenly your mouth feels dry, tongue unable to wet the plump fat of your lip. The scratching in your throat finds no comfort when you swallow, only further irritating your vocal chords. A choked noise finds the heavy bedroom air as fingers tug at your cotton shorts.

“Helping you,” Ellie repeats, her own mouth much more wet than yours. Even in the dim light of the moon you can see the glistening dew on her parted lips. Usually the look she currently wears is saved only for when her pearly teeth find the sensitive and already scarred skin of your neck. Not for.. this.

Your hands immediately slap to your heated cheeks. “Oh my god Ellie, no fucking way.”

The vampire, who had now moved below you on the bed, hums in disagreement to your little show of kicking feet, a hand too strong to be that of a human halting all movements.

“We always have fun when I come over,” The freckles of her face disappear as she glances down, fully pulling down your shorts.

“Not when I’m on my period,” you hiss quietly, the words feeling cracked and embarrassed as they leave your mouth. You could deny the growing arousal in your belly simply by how *mortified* you felt. Even with the churning feeling of deeply settled embarrassment, you make no further moves to stop Ellie. Not as the shorts fall to the floor with a dull thump.

“It’ll help,” Ellie soothes, the near frigid temperature of her hand calming the heat that rises on the skin of your legs. “Haven’t you heard things like this help with cramps?”

The words that are spoken almost teasingly fall upon deaf ears as her wet lips press right above your knee. “Please,” the auburn haired girl whispers, sounding a lot more breathy than before. “Please, let me taste you. Let me make you feel better. ”

Ellie had a tendency to become a little less cold, figuratively at least, when she found her body nestled between your own. The unwavering voice you had grown oh so accustomed to always slid into a more mushy sounding version whenever it got intimate. Today, it seemed even worse. The words dripped with the sweet sounds of neediness, a sound that tasted sweet on your tongue, which swiped nervously over your dry lips.

“El..” Another kiss pressed further up the flesh of your warm thigh broke any following denial. “Fuck..” your chin wobbles, almost too embarrassed to actually say your following words, “Yea. Please help.”

You were sure if you believed something was watching down on you from the sky, it was with horror. Some people may call what Ellie was doing sinful. The angels in the clouds would shrilly gasp as fingers wrapped around your panties and tugged them and everything else from your bottom half, tossing them into the growing pile of clothes. Her shirt came next, the simple white cloth acted as something to watch as it pulled off of her chest, likely to avoid any mess. Some may call the sight of her dipping down again, green eyes looking up at your quivering lip, sinful. Maybe it was, surely the mewl you made when her lips found the heated flesh of your inner thigh was. But if you had to describe it, that wasn't the word you would use. You may even swear it was heavenly.

“Relax,” Ellie drawled, spreading your thighs further apart, despite the slight tremble to them. “I’ve got you, don't worry,” her voice soothed you enough to tilt your head back against the pillow, squeezing your eyes closed. The embarrassment simmered low in your belly, even more so when you could feel the arousal that dripped from you, which your vampire visitor had no problem pointing out. “So wet for me,” she groaned, lips still refusing to find home anywhere other than your thighs. Teeth sharper than your own nipped at the skin there, bucking your hips up. “You want this, don’t you?”

It was an obvious request for another confirmation of what was to come, but your chest felt too tight to reply, no air finding your lungs the moment her breath hovered over your pulsing core. “Tell me you want it,” she requests again, voice dipping into a softer territory again, searching for your approval. Her resolve was cracking however, jaw clicking as she tried her best not to dive straight into where she craved to be.

“I do,” you whine, eyes still closed as you answered, words met with the quick and overwhelming feeling of her tongue pressing flat against your wet center. You couldn’t think too hard about the fact she was doing this right now, not when the sharp gasp had come from two mouths instead of one, a quick call of, “Fuck,” from only you this time followed. Ellie had no words, not as her tongue made another long stripe up your pussy, going much slower than you liked. It led one small roll of your hips down into her, a sign for what you searched for.

It resulted in a hand gripping your hip, pressing you further down into the mattress, ceasing any attempt to control the movements. Her mouth pressed further into you, licking at the same excruciatingly slow pace, seemingly taking her time to enjoy the taste she found between your thighs. “El,” you gasp, eyes fluttering open to glance down at her. However her eyes were closed, another press further into you came, her nose bumping your clit as she licked into you. The rush it brings is almost enough to completely paint over the lingering cramping in your stomach.

The dizzying mixture of pain and pleasure seeps into your bones, making you feel too heavy to do much else than move a hand to find Eliie’s hair, fingers tangling between the auburn strands. You tried again to guide her movements, but she was much stronger than you, paying little mind to the shaky hand that tugged at her locks.

“Taste so fuckin..” she sucked in a breath, unable to keep from dipping back into your folds, humming. “So fuckin’ good,” she finishes, words reverberating against your throbbing core. It had you trying to squirm, held down by the stone light weight of Ellie’s grip. The deeper she licked, the more you fought against her. Your body ached the do something.. anything to find comfort in the overwhelming feeling of her still slow pace. The fingers in her hair tugged again, finding a low groan in response.

The air of the room had already been heavy on your feverish skin, but now it was nearing a state of unbearably humid. Every time Ellie’s tongue made a particularly aimed movement you felt another round of fire straight in the mess that was your clenching core. It all felt so heightened, so much better. The sticky feeling on your skin did not slow either of you down, and you had little care for the sweat beading on your flesh. Not when your favorite girl’s lips were doing such mind numbing things to you.

Had you told your past self, even that of just an hour ago, that you would have allowed it to happen.. They would have laughed in your heated face. The past version of you would have sworn up and down, prayed up to the mysterious sky, that this would never happen. But now- now you have no room for denial or regret. Your mind was becoming too cloudy to house thoughts of shame, questions of if this was right. Because it felt right. The slick sound of Ellie’s mouth against you sounded right, as did your little huffs and puffs that you couldn't hide. The cramps had subsided in tandem with the tightening band in you. But you needed more, and you were gone past a point of being embarrassed to ask for it.

“I need..” you try to speak, but Ellie’s lips wrapping around your clit is the cause of the death of the forming words. A jolt of your hips is one finally strong enough to rupture the heavy hold of the vampire’s hand. Your lame attempt at a command did not go unheard by Ellie, who for the first time since this began, pulled herself away from your cunt. Her eyes darted up, looking to meet your own. But you were far too focused on something else. Her lips were glassy with your wetness, which she licked without a second thought. But the usual clear sheen that you had been no stranger to seeing on her face was more of a rosy color, a stark reminder of the reason this had begun in the first place. The slight tint of red smeared onto her chin, across the corners of her mouth, and it was oh so addicting to see. You felt no lingering shame, no shiver of disgust. Instead it made you feel even more desperate to have her against you again, but first you had to listen to her speaking. “Need what, babe?”

The urge to simply shove her face right back into your cunt flipped through the pages of scenarios in your head, but the moonlight that painted the side of your lover’s face, illuminating the red paintbrush stroke of you, had you a little too separate to risk such a bratty action.

“I need more, El. Need to cum,” you manage to whine, one light push of her head to prove your point. Ellie dipped her head down again, pressing small kisses to your sticky inner thighs. “Just love taking my time with you,” she muttered, a few more pecks planted on you were a search for forgiveness, one you graciously accepted with a loud moan when the lips finally found your clit again.

Ellie seemed to take your beg to heart, the hand that held your hip slowly dipping between your thighs. Her searching fingers met just below her chin, one long digit sliding over your slit, teasing the weeping hole with a slight press. The air feels like it has been punched from your lungs when the finger sinks into you, just as evil as her mouth as it curls into you the exact moment her lips suck a little harder. You were sure she was looking to torture you with how slowly the finger pumped in and out, working and exploring around your walls that gripped around her so tightly.

You had always heard the mythical vampire was sadistic. Ellie had never been much of that, but with ever slow movement into your aching cunt, you began to believe the whispers. Your head turned lightly to stare at the open window, the stars that dipped in the night sky were surely spotlighting your body splayed out on the bed, the auburn haired vampire between your thighs was quite the show for all the celestial beings up in the night air, every single being held its breath and watched on, you were sure of it. You didn't blame the stars, or the moon, or whatever else may have their attention focused on this tantalizing sight. If you could, you would float right out of your body to watch on yourself.

Surely you looked a mess, chest heaving with the heat of the air, with the heat of Ellie. Your limbs shook just lightly, your fingers knotted your companions hair, the messy pile of clothes on the floor, the red that painted her cheeks. Surely it would make your cheek turn bashfully if you could see it. Maybe this was sinful. The little dip into your rushing thoughts is ended with the raspy tone of Ellie’s voice.

“Relax, bunny. Gotta relax for me,” Ellie cooed against you, a few more languid presses into your cunt causing you to finally loosen around her, coupled by the continuing ministrations from her mouth on your clit. Soone another finger joins the mix, the large fingers stretching you just right. She reaches spots that have you remembering the stars you had just seen behind the black of your squeezed shut eyes, a pathetic cry falling from your lips. This reaction only encourages her to continue, the pace of her suckles and thrusts into you speed up. It's harsher everytime she plunges into you, your hips moving lightly with the pure force.

“That’s my girl, there you go,” she compliments after a long moan, the words causing another clench around her fingers. You let out another string of incoherent whines and moans, grinding down into her messy face and fingers. Somewhere in the back of your mind you cursed yourself and Ellie for the certainly ruined bedspread under your ass, but it seems like the much smaller issue when you had *this* to focus on. You were nearing your peak, and it was no secret. Your grinds against Ellie became sloppy, ununiformed and more needy than before. No words could form on your tongue, only whimpers and unintelligible begs.

The vampire never lets up, curling her fingers, your walls clenching. her teeth grazed against your clit lightly enough to have you trembling, whining softly. She knows your body as well as you do, every small sign you were reaching the final moments before your world would explode. She knew what moves of her fingers would have your legs shaking, knew where to press, how hard to go. She was no stranger to making you cum, and she definitely was on the mission to make it happen now. Her free hand grips your thigh, pushing you even more impossibly open for her, fingers pressing into you harshly enough to draw another cry. She readjusts slightly, sinking even deeper into your folds. “C’mon,” Ellie whispers, the word slightly broken, shaky and pleading. Pleading as if she needed you to come as much as you did.

Maybe she did, because the moment your back arched, a near pornographic moan filling the heavy air, spilling out of the window and swirling against the peeping eyes of the stars and moon, she moaned with you. Her fingers still within you as you gushed around her, her lips still pressed to your clit. But as your thighs shook, she slid the fingers out and replaced them with her tongue again. The pink muscle flattened against your slit again like it had earlier, this time with no attempt at going slow.

If anything, she was ravenous. Every drop your pulsing center gifted her, she sucked down like she needed it, ignoring your desperate whines of overstimulation. You attempted lamely to press her head away with the hand still tangled in her scalp, but it was no use. The pleasure of her tongue was much too overwhelming to fight.

After a moment that felt like hours, she pulled away. Her tongue licked over her lips again, collecting the rosy colored cum from where it smudged there. Her eyes stayed on your own blinking irises as her fingers raised to her already messy lips. They were coated with the same mixture of red and clear shining wetness, and she sunk them into her mouth with a moan. The debautchary that took place in front of your eyes should have your stomach queasy, should have your legs closing and pressing far away from Ellie.

But of course it doesn't, instead you watch on with morbid curiosity, watching her tongue curl around her fingers, sucking the last bits of you, leaving a glistening layer of her own spit behind. She found no shame in this situation, no shame in drinking down evey single thing you would give her, so why should you?

“Fuck,” you breathe, eyes transfixed on the fingers as they fall from her lips and down to her lap, her eyes back on your own. She makes a move to crawl over you, arms locking you in from either side.

“Just got a taste of you bunny,” she mumbles, nudging her head into the crook of your neck.

Her lips pressed there, and this time you could feel her fangs under the plump fat of her lip. “Gonna let me have more?” she questioned.

Of course you would, of course you did. As you tilted your neck for her, the curtain to the side of you blew in the wind, and you closed your eyes.

“Yes.”

#vampire!ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams smut