#digital curb cuts

[perlelune]

Creep | Oliver Quick

Though you can’t grasp exactly what, you know something is very off with your boyfriend’s peculiar new friend.

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, Stalking, Voyeurism, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Drinking, Smoking, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamic

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Felix’s long digits drum over your back as he pouts, “You really brought me here just to study, babe?” His raspy, flirtatious tone tugs your lips skyward. Still, your attention doesn’t stray from your laptop screen. Sentences bleed from your fingertips at a quick-fire pace. A little under three thousand words on Bentham’s theory of utilitarianism, due by Monday. The topic isn’t exactly thrilling but you have to hand it over in time.

“If I don’t ace this essay, I’m going to fail this class,” you absently reply. Failure. The one thing you literally can’t afford right now, though you forbear sharing that particular bit with Felix. Best he perceives your single-minded determination as a core stare of your character rather than what it actually is…a necessity, one born of dire circumstances.

He takes a long drag off his cigarette. Grey smoke floats around you, smudging the words on your screen. You repress tears as your eyes burn. You wished he’d curb the nasty habit. You’ve dropped hints before.

But no one tells Felix Catton what to do. Many would kill to even breathe the same nicotin-infused air as him. Felix is the sun and everyone on campus craves to be in his orbit, eager for the slightest chance to bask in his warmth, shower in his light.

You’re no different. The day he asked you out, a little over a year ago, you pinched yourself twice to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Felix Catton wanted…you? It couldn’t be real. 

This was the boy you held in your heart for a decade, the only one you ever had eyes for.

And while your relationship suffered its share of hardships, namely Felix’s wandering eyes, you couldn’t picture life without him at your side.

He’s your everything.

He could hurt you a thousand times and you’d forgive him each of those times.

Felix’s bare shoulder grazes yours as he states, “They won’t fail you, not with who your dad is.”

Your stomach knots with his comment. Still, you shrug, pretending away the guilt steadily gnawing your insides.

“I don’t want to get special treatment just because of my family name, Felix,” you say, trying your best to sound nonchalant.

Though his smile never falters, his jaw ticks. “And I do?”

The ice in his tone scatters in your veins. Immediately, you discard your homework, concerned gaze finding his.

“I’m not saying that.” When Felix doesn’t respond, panic roars inside you. You touch his exposed chest to bring his attention to you. He doesn’t move. “I didn’t say that.”

A thick blanket of silence engulfs the room and your airways constrict. It feels as if your heart is on the verge of collapse as you wait for a reaction from your boyfriend, his chestnut gaze glued to the ceiling.

His head turns to you slowly. He releases a large puff of smoke in your face. Tears rush to your eyes, filling them to the brim.

Felix shrugs.

“It sounded like you did. A little. But that’s okay.” His tone is mellow in that way that oozes displeasure. “I’m just a legacy kid getting by on his trust fund and good looks, right?”

Your mouth quakes and he bursts out a chuckle. He cups your cheek, a wide grin breaking onto his face. “I’m just fucking with you, babe.”

You swallow your budding tears, wiping your eyes swiftly as Felix reaches around you to put out his cig in the ashtray.

You punch him in the chest, your own laughter bubbling out.

“You’re an arsehole.”

His grin expands. Twining your fingers with his, Felix’s tone gets softer.

“I wanted to ask…” He trails off, brown gaze clinging to yours. “Can Ollie come to the party you and Anabel are throwing tonight?”

You tilt your head in befuddlement. “Ollie?”

He traces the lines in your palm, adding absently, “Yeah, Oliver. I told you about him. Saved my arse when my bike broke.”

“Right, bike guy,” you say, remembrance hitting you. You tilt your head. “What’s he like?”

Felix sighs.

“He doesn't have too many friends.  He's also had a rough upbringing. So I thought we could help him a little, you know?” You study him. However casual your boyfriend attempts to sound, you instantly recognize what this is. Yet another try at playing knight in shining armor. Whoever this Oliver guy is, he’s now become your boyfriend’s side project. His charity case possibly.

“He’s not like us so we could try to be nice.”

Not like us. You mask your discomfort with a bright smile. 

About a year ago, your dad’s company filed for bankruptcy. Thankfully your scholarship still allows you to attend Oxford, but your lifestyle has drastically changed. No more shopping sprees. No more casual leisure trips to Europe. No more frivolous spendings with daddy’s black card.

The last straw was when your father emptied every account, including your trust, and left the country without as much as a goodbye text. Since those events, your mother has taken refuge at the bottom of a whisky bottle. You can barely get a hold of her these days.

So not only are you penniless, you might as well be an orphan. 

Felix is all you have left. You can’t risk him finding out the truth. He can never know about the part time jobs you’ve had to take to cover tuition costs or the small flat your mum had to move into after your father had to sell the family manor. He might think you’re beneath him now, working class, destitute. Or worse, he might pity you, treat you like a charity case too. 

You follow the curve of his dark brow with your thumb, sweeping over his silver stud.

“Hm, sure. I can be nice,” you promise.

“I know you can,” he teases, large hands pulling on your thighs to spread you across his lap.

You squeal before scolding him, “Felix…I really really need to finish this essay.”

His eyes darken with lust as he licks his lips. He wiggles his hips, causing the bulge in his jeans to rub against your clothed center. Your breath hitches. “And I really really need you to take care of this for me.” His hoarse, desperate inflection makes your core clench. His palms run over your thighs beneath your short dress. “Just five minutes? Come on, I’ve been hard for like an hour, babe.”

He hums, already playfully fiddling with the edge of your lace panties.

“It’s your fault for wearing this fucking pink dress. You know the way your ass looks in it drives me crazy.”

You resolve crumbles beneath Felix’s heated stare. You can never tell him no. And he knows that. Releasing a deep sigh, you relent.

“Five minutes,” you offer.

He slides one finger inside your weeping core. As you draw a sharp breath, Felix beams.

“It’s all I need,” he coos.

The party’s at his height, loud music blasting from the gigantic speakers and glow sticks waving in the pitch blackness of the underground cellar. You thread your way between tipsy students, carrying two cups of beer in your hands. 

As you reach the VIP corner, you hand Annabel her drink. The redhead mumbles her thanks as she bobs her head to the music. You peer at your surroundings, glad to see everyone having fun. 

It’s a frank success. Pride trickles inside you at that. It’s been hard collecting pockets of free time to put it together between classes and assignments. But you did it. 

Truthfully, you’re also craving some fun tonight. All you’ve done lately is studying. You miss the days when you were more carefree, unconcerned about your grades deciding the course of your future.

You glance down at your watch, scowling as you notice the time. He was supposed to be here three hours ago.

“Where’s Felix?” you ask Venetia. Your boyfriend’s sister  lazily opens her eyes, a drunken smile spreading onto her lips. She shrugs. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen him around.” 

You pivot to the rest of the group. 

“Have you guys seen him tonight?”

Annabel shakes her head apologetically while Farleigh brings his blunt to his mouth with a taunting smile.

“Desperate much?” he teases.

“Farleigh, come on,” Anabel chastises. She bumps her shoulder into yours, her expression sympathetic. “Don’t mind him, you know he’s always a jerk after a few drinks.”

Farleigh sighs. “Darling, you know I love you. It was just a joke.”

“A joke, right…” you mumble. Your cheeks heat though you try not to let your feelings show. Still, Farleigh’s words linger in your head. Maybe you’re being too clingy. It’s something you should mind.  What if you became too needy and Felix grew bored of you? It’s not like he wouldn’t find a replacement for you in a heartbeat.

You lie back on the plush couch, sipping from your beer cup as your friends continue their chat. The conversation has long since stopped making sense, fueled by drug-inspired ramblings. Your attention is halved by your straying train of thoughts, the current whereabouts of your boyfriend still at the forefront of your brain.

Another hour flies by before Felix’s towering frame finally pierces through the crowd. A smaller boy trails behind him, his expression mirroring that of a lost puppy. He adjusts his glasses, awkwardly avoiding the drunken bodies around him. The word “Sorry” doesn’t stop pouring from his mouth. 

You realize this must be Oliver. Astonishment flows through you. This isn’t the kind of company Felix traditionally keeps. But you elect to try your best to be nice and welcoming.

It’s what Felix asked of you after all. Besides, entering a new group of people cannot be easy, your tight-knit circle having known each other since kindergarten for some.

You don’t miss Anabel’s fleeting,  condescending glance as she takes in Oliver though. Getting her assent to let him come had been a hassle, as she regards him as some weird, scholarship kid who’d just bring the mood down. But you insisted and she finally caved.

You trade a meaningful look with her, silently nudging her to be nice. The redhead practically rolls her eyes but squeezes her lips shut. Annabel may be one of your best friends but even you’re aware that she can be quite snobbish at times. 

A sullen expression decorates your face as Felix enters the private booth. 

“You’re late,” you blurt out. Farleigh snickers behind you and your cheeks flare. But everything around you fades as Felix grabs your face and presses feverish lips over yours. Your irritation melts in the heat of the passionate kiss. 

When he frees your mouth, his thumb runs over your swollen bottom lip as he explains casually, “Yeah we were just hanging out and we lost track of time.”

He then introduces the shy boy.

“That’s Ollie.”

“Nice to meet you,” he stutters.

“Likewise,’ you reply smiling.

You gauge him. Beneath the large glasses, you note the slanted blue eyes and soft, round boyish features. Felix’s friend is cute. If only he weren’t so painfully awkward. 

“You should sit with us. There’s plenty of space,” you say. 

Felix draws you onto his lap as he sits. Oliver takes a nervous seat next to the two of you. His eyes keep rising to Felix, as if seeking perpetual approval from your boyfriend. You’re a little perplexed. Farleigh hands Felix a spliff and he lets his hand rest on your thigh while taking a long drag from it.

“So, where are you from exactly?” you ask Oliver.

His gaze on you and Felix is sharp, somehow constantly darting to where your boyfriend’s holding you.

“Prescott,” he answers.

You mull over his response. It’s a few hours away from Oxford. You don’t know much about it. Though, based on what Felix implied about the way he grew up, you expected him to originate from a rougher area. Prescott doesn’t seem too awful.

“Prescott? They must be proud of you back home, especially your parents.”

“Probably not, actually.”

Your curiosity is piqued. “Why are you saying that?”

Oliver shrugs. His eyes find the floor before meeting yours again.

“Just don’t talk to them much,” he mutters. “They got problems and stuff…”

You slant your head. “Problems?”

Felix’s hand tightens atop your thigh. “Babe, that’s enough prying, don’t you think?”

“I’m just making conversation, trying to get to know him.”

“You’re embarrassing him, babe.”

Oliver’s blue gaze lifts to yours, his face unreadable.

“No, it’s fine,” he says, though you detect a slight edge to his timbre that wasn’t there before. A small smile tugs his lips. “I don’t mind questions. Got nothing to hide.”

You nod. An icy tickle blooms at the base of your spine, scattering outward as Oliver’s intense focus doesn’t leave you. You turn away, shifting your attention to your boyfriend. Throughout the entire night, a strange sensation thunders through you, like the lightning before the storm. You can’t explain it. It’s like the world shifted off its axis, though you can’t pinpoint the reason.

Thankfully the strangeness is cast aside by Felix’s soft lips and heady, masculine scent. As the party goes on in the background, the two of you sneak away. You end up making out in a dark corner, Felix’s greedy hands slipping beneath your short skirt to grab a fistful of your ass. He pinches your flesh and you squeal.

A warm chuckle spills from his lips as he peppers tender kisses alongside your neck.

“Let’s go back to my dorm,” he whispers.

You readily agree. He takes your hand and the two of you hitch a ride back to campus. The two of you giggle in the backseat of the car every time the driver berates you for getting too handsy with each other. You laugh it off all the way back to his room, lips locking as you cross the threshold. You jump to wrap your legs around Felix’s tapered waist. He purrs, his hands latching around your hips, pulling you closer. He pushes you against a wall, tracing a scorching path in the valley between your breasts. Moaning, you toss your head back. 

As your eyes flutter however, you catch sight of a silhouette standing outside Felix’s window. Your heart bounces, your eyes growing saucer-wide. You gasp and leap away from Felix. 

“What the fuck?” he curses as you race to the window. Chest pulsing with your quick heartbeats, you peel the window open to peek outside. The cold night air whisks inside the room. Goosebumps break out on your skin.

Your gaze wanders, searching the darkness. Confusion swells within you as you find nothing. Nothing but greenery, the same trees and grass flanking your path whenever you stroll through campus. 

“There was someone outside, w-watching us,” you stammer.

Felix’s frustrated breath grazes the back of your neck. “Babe, there’s no one out there.”

You squint, dumbfounded when nothing but pitch blackness stares back at you. For a minute, you really believed someone stood there. In fact, whoever they were bore a peculiar resemblance to…

You catch yourself before finishing the thought.

Now that’s just crazy.

“But I saw…”

Felix shifts your body towards him. He cups your cheeks and rasps, “Hey. Hey, look at me. There’s no one but us here.” His lips collide with yours. He starts groping you again and you push him off  you, stunned that he wants to have sex at a time like this.

“No, Felix, I-I can’t.”

He stumbles back and scoffs, “Oh.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you inquire, glowering at him.

His gaze flicks over you, his expression cold. “All that teasing just to leave me high and dry?”

“Felix, wait…”

He avoids your touch, collecting his jacket from the bed when your fingers stretch towards him.

“It’s fine. I’m just gonna have a smoke. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Your stomach sinks.

“O-Okay,” you say as your hand retreats to your side.

The door slams shut and you collapse on Felix’s bed. Your eyes veer to the window once more. You could have sworn you caught a glimpse of someone. Maybe all those late nights writing essays and revising for the upcoming exams are slowly catching up to you, dragging you to the brink of madness.

Felix doesn’t call you the following day. Of course he doesn’t. You broke the mood. You acted weird. What reason does he have to want to be around you again? It’s bad enough you neglected him in favor of your assignments and club activities for the last few weeks. Now you can’t even enjoy the sparse time you have together.

Still, you flip your phone open all day long, longing for a word from him, any trivial, insignificant word.

You get nothing. 

You gloomily drag your feet around campus and somehow find your way in one of the empty student lounges, save Farleigh and Venetia. Lying flat on the carpeted floor, eyes glued to the ceiling, the two of them are sharing a spliff. You wedge yourself between them, lying on your back also. You steal the roll from Venetia’s fingers and bring it to your lips. Your throat burns and you cough as you inhale a puff. Venetia’s lips curve upward as your eyes water.

“You gotta take it easy the first time,” she says, amusement lighting her olive orbs. “Tiny inhales.” She shows you how and you mimic her gestures. You go slower the second time and a pleasant numbness sets into your limbs. Your eyes shut. You kind of get it now. For the first time in several weeks, your mind’s almost at rest, your stormy thoughts quieted. 

“You don’t smoke,” Farleigh notes near you.

“I am today.”

“You guys will be fine,” Venetia assures. “You’re always fine.”

Your eyes open, settling on the pristine white ceiling. 

“I fucking hate him sometimes.” You pause, sucking a deep breath. “But I love him more.”

“Yep, that’s Felix,” they utter in unison.

You heave out a weary sigh. They grew up with him. They know better than anyone, how sweet and wonderful he can be, but also cruel and careless sometimes.

Just like the sun, Felix’s light can also burn whoever gets too close. 

For a while, the three of you hang out in silence, the spliff switching hands every once in a while. Eventually, each of them rises, leaving you to your mopey thoughts. 

Before taking his leave however, Farleigh whispers in your ear,

“Oh and darling, next time you wear a rental…make sure the price tag isn’t sticking out. It gives you away.”

You sit up immediately. A smile dances on the boy’s lips as he disappears. You grab the back of your neck, face warming as you feel the tag poking through the collar of your shirt.

You nearly forgot you’re due to return the designer piece in two days’ time. You can’t believe someone noticed. Though you suppose if anybody would, it’d be Farleigh. Nothing gets past his keen eye. You surmise it was a necessity with the way he grew up. Learning to read people, knowing what makes them tick, being able to spot a pretender from a mile away…which you are now.

Maybe it’s ludicrous, acting like you can still afford to live like this, like your life wasn’t turned upside down.

Still, you can’t fathom the alternative. The judgement, the pity, from your friends…from Felix. The thought alone makes you sick. The echo of Anabel’s voice as she disparaged Oliver’s background a few days ago never left you. 

Dunno what Felix even sees in him. He’s some weird scholarship kid who buys his clothes at Oxfam.

That was harsh…and made you wonder what your best friend would have to say about your current situation. 

So you’d rather lie, even if you sometimes look like a fool doing so.

You swallow a wide lungful, willing yourself to be calm. You repeat the mantra, again and again. You’re okay. You’re okay. You just need to keep your grades up and get through the semester.

The rest of the week is hell. Felix all but ignores you, not even sparing you a glance when he brushes past you in the university corridors. The itch to talk to him sears inside you. Unfortunately, he’s always surrounded by a swarm of people, the center of attention as usual, making approaching him near impossible. You can’t picture bringing up your relationship problems in front of so many eyes.

Besides, you don’t want to project desperation, Farleigh’s pointed gibe still resonating in your mind. You need to play it cool, wrap yourself in a disguise of indifference…despite the way you wither away every second he’s not texting you back. 

The agonizing wait is made worse by him. He’s everywhere now. Wherever Felix goes, he goes too. Oliver Quick has essentially become your boyfriend’s shadow. Whether in class, at pub meetups, at parties, the quiet, nervous boy  never abandons Felix’s side, always peering up at him with those round baby blues of his, a strange mix of admiration, devotion and…something else you can’t pinpoint etched on his face.

It’s sort of creepy in your opinion. 

Though you’d never say it aloud. For some reason, Oliver’s his new toy. And you’re acutely aware of how Felix is with his toys. He plays with them for a while then moves on to the next fancy, shiny new one. He did it to Eddie before. Now Oliver. 

And maybe it’ll be your turn one day…if you don’t do something. 

It’s how you end up in front of his dorm one night, already tipsy from half a bottle of vodka. Liquid courage to get you to knock on his door. It’s pathetic. Of course it is, but you just can’t wait anymore. 

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and shaking off your nerves. Your knuckles are less than an inch from the door when a broken whimper reaches you from the other side of Felix’s door. 

Brows furrowing, you place your ear against the wood. You hear a moan this time. Deep, distinctive, masculine…familiar. Your heart stops. 

You plummet to your knees, peering through the keyhole. You feel wrong for doing so, for invading Felix’s privacy like this. But guilt crumbles beneath the weight of heartbreak at what you witness. 

You almost find yourself wishing you hadn’t looked. Almost.

Rivulets of anguish flow down your face as you watch your best friend and boyfriend lip-locked, practically swallowing each other’s faces. Their clothes aren’t off but the urgent way they’re grinding against each other is a dead giveaway as to what’s to come.

Legs trembling, you stumble back from the door. You shouldn’t have come. This was a mistake. You’re a fool.

You drunkenly stagger through the corridors, clinging to the walls each time you almost trip over your own feet.

You wind up slumped on some stairs, too inebriated to carry yourself much further. Your lids sag as you exhale. More hot tears spill down your cheeks. Your chest aches, a knife piercing through your heart as the memory of Annabel and Felix lost in the throes of passion fleets across your brain. Why are you even shocked? It’s not like you never caught Anabel leering at him while she thought you weren’t looking. And it’s not like Felix is some kind of saint. Still, you can’t help but feel massively betrayed. You thought you meant more to him. You thought they wouldn’t…not with each other.

When your eyes flutter open, you find a pair of intense cobalt orbs studying you.

“Oliver…” you mumble. In your drunken stupor, you don’t bother wondering how he got here, seemingly materializing from thin hair.

He hunkers in front of you. His scent tickles your nose and it twitches. The smell of his cologne is so strikingly reminiscent of the one Felix wears. A wave of emotion engulfs you. Sobs shake your frame as you shrink against the wall.

Oliver’s gaze rises to your weeping face as he questions, “Are you okay?”

“M’fine…” you slur, wiping your snotty nose. You must look a fright, a pathetic heap of tears aimlessly wandering the university corridors.

He tilts his head. “You don’t look fine.”

You consider Oliver. He is cute, which you noticed before. And in the dimly lit stairway, his blue eyes burn even brighter. You loathe that Felix is allowed to hurt you the way he did and can just…keep on. If your friends aren’t off-limits, why would his be?

You bat your lashes at Oliver.

“You got any alcohol?”

His lips curve upward as he rasps, “Would you like me to have alcohol?”

How did you end up there? The question keeps swirling in your head as Oliver’s mouth hungrily devours yours, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer. He trails fevered kisses down your neck and you squirm. As his teeth sink into the flesh at the crook of your neck, you let out a sharp cry. You tug on his dark locks and Oliver growls against your skin. The pain mixes with pleasure in your haze. His tongue then circles where he punctured your flesh, dragging slowly as an elated purr rises from his chest. His hard-on presses into your thigh. Alarm bells ring inside your mind.

It’s all a little too real, you realize. You got carried away. You draw back, pushing against his chest. “Oliver, wait…”

You might as well have said nothing, your words falling to unlistening ears as Oliver grabs your wrists and nudges you on the bed on your back. You peer up at him. Lust darkens his blue gaze, making him appear almost inhuman in the darkness.

Your mouth wobbles.

Pinning your wrists at your sides, Oliver kisses you senseless. Soon his lips are tracing a scorching path down your body, his hands moving to peel off your short skirt and panties.

His attentive gaze doesn’t leave yours as he sluggishly drags the tiny layer of lace down your legs.

His throat bobs when your bare cunt is exposed to him.

Biting his bottom lip, Oliver crawls his way to your core. Your legs quake. There is a strange glow in his eyes that sends chills down your back. 

“Oli-” you start, but the protest dwindles in a helpless whimper when Oiver buries his head between your thighs and flicks his tongue against your bundle of nerves. Oliver’s firm hands clasp around your thighs, keeping you in place when you attempt to close your legs. He greedily eats you out, fingers digging into your soft flesh. He suckles your tender button in his mouth and your eyes roll back. Your fingers get lost in his dark mane as your back arches against the sheets. Oliver’s feverish tongue sweeps around your folds and you grow weaker, slumping against the pillow. 

Quickly, stars dangle in your vision. Your fists tighten around the sheets while your legs turn to jelly. A long breath flows from your lips. 

You don’t remember ever coming that hard before, not even with Felix.

Tingles are still dancing over your legs as a sliver of clarity returns to you.

Oliver’s tongue slowly moves, collecting the remnants of your essence off his lips as a look of sheer bliss decorates his face. You shiver.

You try to move off the bed. “I think that’s enough,” you say, folding your knees.

Oliver’s mouth quirks lopsidedly. “Oh, we’re nowhere near done, luv.”

Much quicker than you, Oliver slithers his way up your body and cages you beneath his frame. He steals your lips in a hungry kiss, trapping your wrists above your head. His fingers are tight enough that you just know it’ll bruise. You taste your own bittersweet flavor on his tongue. His hand creeps under your shirt, groping your tits. He plants urgent pecks on your face, dragging his teeth along your jaw.

“Oliver, please…”  you beseech, shock making your voice shake.

He sinks a finger between your slick walls. Your stomach tightens.

Oliver releases your swollen lips and twists his finger inside your core. Your breath hitches.

He smiles down at you.

“But you’re gushing down there, luv. This is what you want.”

Your face warms. You hate that he’s right, that your body clings to him, making space you wish it didn’t…almost inviting his actions.

But Oliver’s mouth and hands are far too good at knowing which buttons to press to turn you into a whimpering mess. Shame pools in your gut as sharp keens leave your lips.

He pumps inside you at a steady pace, his thumb teasing your heap of sensitive nerves every once in a while, pressing until you cry out. He adds another finger and the air in your lungs falters. His hands feel everywhere at once, his teeth and mouth scattering marks all over your body.

He doesn’t stop until you clench around him, soaking his hand with your juices when you shatter with a high-pitched wail.

You crash over the pillows. Your body is still coming off the high. Half-lidded eyes blindly rise to the ceiling. Oliver yanking off his shirt and discarding his pants doesn’t register, not fully, the entire bottle of vodka you emptied before making your mind slow.

He’s suddenly inside you, his thick length splitting you apart as he places his forearms besides your head.

Your lips part in a quiet shout. It feels like if you might break, your walls aching as they stretch around him.

He begins to rail into you, each of his thrusts blunt and animalistic. As if he were possessed by some beast. You know it’s ludicrous. But as the lewd clapping of your damp skin against his rises each time he buries himself balls-deep inside you…it’s how you feel. Like a wild animal somehow broke free and started rutting into you.

Your head lolls against the pillows, your thoughts going blank every time he grazes your sweet spots. Your fingernails rake down his back. 

“Does Felix fuck you like this?” he rasps. He presses his chest against yours, his cock hitting an angle that draws a lengthy moan from you. A crooked smile ghosts over Oliver’s lips. “Or maybe more like this…” 

His warm breath fans over your earshell.

“Tell me luv… How do our cocks compare?”

When you don’t respond, he roughly shoves inside you, his fingers cinching around your windpipe. You gasp in horror, gaping at him through tear-filled eyes.

“Answer me,” he instructs, his voice deeper than before.

“Y-You’re bigger than he is,” you sputter, struggling to get the words out with his hand squeezing your throat. 

A peculiar blend of excitement and disappointment swims in his gaze when you answer.

You weakly claw at his chest, squirming beneath him. He doesn’t let you go, bending to shove his tongue in your mouth. He drags his tongue over your face, licking your hot tears. Sobs jostle your frame.

“Oliver, please,” you repeat.

He shushes you, framing your chin. His thumb follows the outline of your bottom lip, bleeding and swollen from all his rough kisses. 

“Stop fighting it. Be a good girl.” He showers tender pecks across your collarbone before softly whispering against your temple, “Or I’ll tell Felix everything. That you came onto me, begging me to fuck you.” His devilish smile sears into your skin. “I’ll tell him what a good little slut you were for me.”

Your stomach drops. Oliver collects your tears with his fingertips. He shoves his fingers in his mouth, emitting a throaty moan at the taste of your despair. He then dips those same fingers in your mouth, his pelvis snapping into yours.

“It’s beautiful, how much you love him,” Oliver mumbles, growing harder inside you as a fresh wave of tears brim beneath your lashes. “You’re beautiful. I can see why he always comes back.” He rests his forehead against yours, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips. 

“Maybe I’ll keep you for myself when this is all done.”

The awakening in the early morning is rude, the wicked headache and ache in your limbs reminding you of last night’s events right away. Strips of sunlight sneak between the curtains, caressing your face. The usually pleasant warmth does nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. Your stomach clenches as you peer at your side. Oliver’s completely naked, only wearing the silver chain always around his neck. His arm is lazily spread over your belly. You don’t dare move, fearing he’ll wake up. 

What would you even say?

This is a disaster. You somehow ended up in Oliver’s room and…had sex with him. 

You swallow a shaky sob as your gaze travels low. Your panties are torn, which you didn’t notice last night. At least your clothes can still be worn, lying in a messy heap at the bottom of the bed. Carefully, you writhe your way out of Oliver’s hold and grab your clothes. 

You hastily put your skirt and shirt back on, trying not to cry when you realize you’re going to have to walk back to your dorm without your knickers. Heat rushes to your cheeks. 

You toss a glance behind you, relieved when you find him still sleeping soundly. 

You climb off the bed. Your heart leaps when the mattress squeaks as you rise. 

Pulse quickening, you head for the door. 

Pain radiates through your lower body when you move. You stagger the rest of the way, constantly tugging on your short skirt as you pray not to encounter any strong gust of wind on the way back.

Before leaving,  you look back. 

Oliver’s still sprawled on his side on the bed but his eyes are wide open now. 

No word leaves his mouth as he studies you in silence.

A wide, lazy smile slowly unfans on his lips. 

Your blood turns to ice. Fumbling with the doorknob, you scurry outside the door.

Once you’re outside, you slam the door closed.

You dart panicked glances around the corridor. Relief fills you when you note that it’s empty. For now. It won’t be long before students start milling about.

You shamefully return to your dorm. The entire walk back, paranoia lurks at the edge of your mind. You keep wondering if every stranger you come across can tell what you did.

And you keep hoping not to run across anyone you know.

When you reach your bedroom, you lock the door. You make a beeline for the bathroom. You need a shower, expeditiously. Oliver’s smell still lingers on you. When you catch your disheveled reflection in the bathroom mirror, you’re shocked. You approach the mirror on unsteady legs. You crane your neck, your fingertips skimming over the two puncture wounds on your neck. A cool wave ripples down your back. It’s twisted. You feel like a character in a Polidori’s tale. Except this is reality somehow.

The one where you have to face the fact that you shagged your boyfriend’s new friend…and you’re not even entirely sure that you wanted it. Your mind throbs as you search through your memories. You changed your mind midway through. Oliver did not care.

Oliver did not care…

The ghastly realization has you keel over the toilet bowl to empty the meagre contents of your stomach. You slump to the floor and start quivering over the bathroom floor.

A sudden knock on your door has you rising from the floor.

Your heart skips a beat when you glance through the peephole.

“F-Felix?” you stutter, panic hitting a peak inside you.

His deep voice penetrates through the door.

“Hey, can we talk?” he asks. 

He sounds heartbroken, desperate. You almost unleash a sigh. You recognize this. You’ve been there before. This is a rollercoaster you can never get off of, the thrill when you’re high up entirely too intoxicating.

“Right now is not the best time.”

He heaves out a deep sigh. You can literally picture his kicked puppy expression, even with the door between you two. Your heartstrings flutter as you lean against the door. The craving to toss yourself in his arms wars with the sizzling betrayal still sitting in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck. Are you still mad at me?”

Swallowing the surge of tears, you reply, “No. Just feeling a bit rough. Had a tad too much to drink last night.”

“I could take care of you…”

You nibble your lip. It’s tempting. He’s done it before. Bought you pastries and showered you with kisses and cuddles until you got better. When he wants, Felix can be the perfect boyfriend. When he wants.

“No,” you say firmly. “What do you want, Felix?”

“Can’t you just let me in, just for a minute, babe?” His pleading inflection shatters your meek fences.

“The park. In two hours,” you concede. “I got microeconomics right now, can’t miss it.”

“Thank you. Thank you.”

He’s overjoyed. You can’t bear it anymore. You race back to the bathroom as another wave of queasiness engulfs your insides.

Jittery steps lead you through the park as you rejoin him under an oak tree. You spent the last hour in class totally unfocused, your chest tight as you dreaded how this conversation would go.

“Felix,” you greet.

He wraps his arms around you. You remain still in his embrace, the distinctive scent of his cologne floating around you. You feel sick. Now it doesn’t remind you of Felix anymore.

“I really missed you.”

“Didn’t seem like it,” you mumble coolly.

His long exhale tickles your shoulder. “I know. I’m a wanker.”

“More like a selfish arsehole.”

His hold on you slackens as he draws back a little.

A look of hurt and shock covers his face. He isn’t used to you speaking to him so harshly. To him, you’ve only ever been sweet and forgiving. His brows crumple.

“I deserve that.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Listen I… I almost did something awful last night.”

“What thing?” You fiddle with the scarf around your neck. It’s the sole last minute resort you found to conceal the mark decorating your throat.

Of course you know exactly what thing Felix is referring to. You saw it with your own eyes, that thing. If it weren’t for that, you may not be a complete wreck today.

“Doesn’t matter, cause I stopped. It’s not who I want to be anymore.” He cups your face, warm brown gaze diving into yours. “You make me better.”

Words leave your mouth without forethought.

“Who was it this time?”

He hesitates, his jaw tensing. But beneath your heavy stare, he finally caves in.

“It was Annabel.”

“Oh.”

The knife inside your chest twists. It’s one thing to know, to have seen. It’s another to hear it confirmed from your boyfriend’s own mouth. Last night wasn’t some dragged out nightmare; it was reality. When you turn your head, Felix pivots it back to him. 

Sincerity vibrates in his tone. 

“I ended up kicking her out though.” He wipes the single tear that spills down your cheek. “All I could think about was you, the entire time.” He strokes your face. “You’re the only one for me, babe. This is the last time. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Fuck…” 

You spot something you never heard in Felix’s voice before. Fear. And instantly, you break. 

He leans his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he states.

You’re dumbstruck. Those words have crossed Felix’s lips at least a thousand times. He’s said them to so many, even strangers…but never to you. 

He came close a few times, but never has he been this clear, firm, his meaning unmistakable. Butterflies swarm your stomach. 

“I love you,” he repeats.

Felix plants a feverish kiss on your lips, leaving them tingling when he releases you. 

“I love you too,” you whisper as your hot breaths mingle.

A sunny smile breaks out on his face.

“No more lies from now on.”

A sinking feeling spreads through you, but you ignore it, returning his smile.

“No more lies,” you echo. Guilt eats at you the second you utter the words.

Felix’s attention veers from you as he waves at someone behind you.

“Hey, Ollie,” he shouts.

The air around you plummets to a few degrees. You go still against Felix, nudging a shaky smile onto your lips.

“I need to go to class,” you chime. 

You don’t even turn around, his presence alone sending your senses into alert.

Confusion scrunches Felix’s features.

“Your next class isn’t for another hour.”

You pat his chest, willing yourself to sound more cheerful than you feel.

“Just got some studying to catch up on beforehand.”

Felix’s fingers cling to yours as you try to leave. 

“I’ll see you tonight at the pub?”

“Sure.”

He doesn’t let you go until you give him another lengthy kiss. You’re uncomfortable, the weight of a certain somebody’s stare drilling holes into your back.

Things recede to relative normalcy, in some ways better than before, and in others worse. Better because of your relationship with Felix. It improves tremendously. He dotes on you more than he ever has, showering you with gifts and small attentions.

Worse because he’s still there, his unsettling presence the dark cloud over your rekindled romance. Each time you’re forced to be around him, there’s a knowing, smug glint dancing in his eyes, a subtle smile tugging his lips skywards. Perpetual fright eclipses your happiness, all because of Oliver Quick.

What if he told Felix everything? This was a mistake and you’re fairly sure you tried to stop it. You still have nightmares about that night, the way he held you down and wrapped his hand around your neck, stealing your air and ability to defend yourself.

You were helpless. Even letting Felix touch you is hard now, the memory of what Oliver did to you seeping through the cracks whenever you expect it least.

He branded you. And while the marks on your body may have faded, the ones engraved on your soul won’t vanish so easily.

It’s a blessing when Felix finally grows bored with him. You have no idea how it occurred. You simply know that they seem stitched at the hip for months then, suddenly, Oliver is gone. Felix shows up at group meetups without him and stops mentioning him altogether.

As if he took an eraser and wiped him from existence. Just like he did to Eddie back in the day.

You’re relieved…for an ephemeral while alas.

Oliver’s dad's abrupt passing changes everything overnight. 

Once more, Felix feels the need to be Oliver’s knight in shining armor. 

And once more the two of them are inseparable. Two peas in a pod.

You elect to take some distance. While you understand that Felix wants to help him, it doesn’t mean you have to. Thankfully, with summer fastly approaching, you won’t have to bear with Oliver Quick for much longer.

As usual, James and Elspeth urged you to come spend the summer at Saltburn, particularly Elspeth who couldn’t stop gushing about what a gorgeous couple you and Felix are. And while you may have tried to decline every other year, finding his family to be an awful lot, this year is different. This year, more than ever before, you long for an escape. 

Even the pits of hell would be a suitable vacation spot if it meant not having to run across Oliver Quick for two whole months. 

It’s a thrilling prospect. These days you can’t be around Felix as much because being around him means being around Oliver, and you just can’t do it. You look forward to having your boyfriend all to yourself. All day long, you dream about lazy afternoons by the pool and cloud-gazing in the grassy fields.

These are the balmy thoughts floating through your mind as you return to your dorm that day after classes end. A carefree smile decorates your face. You can’t wait to finish packing your suitcase. You saved every penny from your part-time job to buy a new swimsuit. And while it made a small dent in your savings, imagining Felix’s face the first time he’ll see you in it makes the tiny sacrifice worth it. 

But the smile on your lips dies when you cross the door to your bedroom. Your jaw drops, the stack of books in your hands crashing to the floor with a loud thud.

“What are you doing here?” you whisper. You shrink against the door, maintaining as wide a distance as the small room allows.

Oliver doesn’t even spare you a glance, casually lying on your bed with one knee bent like it’s his.

“Your taste in books. A bit of a letdown I gotta say, luv,” he says, flipping the yellowed pages of one of your favourite novels.

You lick your lips. “Look, I’m sorry about your dad…but you can’t be here.” He doesn’t leave your bed, engulfed in his reading. Your brows knit. “Get out of my room, Oliver,” you repeat, folding your arms as you approach the bed.

His cobalt gaze finally settles on you. He places the book on the night table, slow and unhurried as he gets to his feet.

Your pulse soars as he inches closer.

“Or what? You’ll scream?” he challenges. He circles you, gauging you in a way that summons a picture of a lion stalking its prey in your head. Your blood curdles when Oliver’s breath caresses your nape. “Then you’ll have to explain what I’m doing in your room and make a scene.” His voice lowers to a taunting rasp. “Do you want to make a scene?”

Your voice comes out shaky. “What do you want?”

Oliver takes a deep breath while placing his hands on your shoulders. His thumbs trace a slow path along the column of your neck. His lips graze your earshell.

“I want you to come over here, lie on this bed and spread your legs like a good girl for me.” You suck in a sharp breath. His fingers drag down your arm as he adds, “I’m feeling…peckish.”

When you don’t move, he releases a deep sigh. 

“...Or I can tell Felix everything.”

Your heart starts hammering in your chest. “What?” you exhale, spinning to face him. 

Oliver smiles. 

“You guys are great right now. He says you’re the best you’ve ever been. No more lies. No more secrets.” Oliver bends close to you, his smile expanding. “How do you think he’ll react when I tell him that we fucked…” He pauses and you hold your breath. “And that you’ve lied to him about your family this entire year.” 

Goosebumps spread across your flesh. You stumble back, your eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. “H-How do you know about that?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, Oliver takes small steps forward, causing you to retreat until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. He places his hands on each side of you. His  gaze traces the motion of your neck as you swallow the lump in your throat.

“I…It’s not the right time of the month right now,” you lamely offer. 

Oliver’s blue eyes rise as he sinks to his knees in front of you. Tingles bounce over your skin as he rolls your plaid skirt up your thighs.

“And you think it’s something I’m worried about?”

A moan tears from your throat when he buries two fingers inside your core without a warning.

“From now on when I tell you to spread your legs for me, you do as I say,” Oliver informs, his fingers curving inside you. You choke on your breath. “Don’t make me repeat myself. Do you understand?” The threat laced in his tone scatters ice in your veins.

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes, Oliver,” he corrects.

“Yes…Oliver,” you sputter, legs tensing as his digits reach deeper inside you.

“I’m sure it’ll be a summer to remember.”

Between uneven breaths, you stammer, “W-What do you mean?”

He strokes under your thigh absently.

“Oh didn’t Felix tell you?” He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “I’ve been invited to Saltburn, as a guest.”

When Oliver leans away, he’s smiling from ear to ear. Excitement sways in his cobalt orbs as he studies your crestfallen expression. 

“I know. I’m looking forward to it too.” 

#saltburn #saltburn fanfiction #oliver quick #oliver quick x reader #dark!oliver quick #dark!oliver quick x reader #dark!fic

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

Cinnamon Girls

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Fem!OC)

Summary: Eddie never thought his nightly routine would include sneaking into a catholic collage to see his two girlfriends, but never say never, right? Wk:4.5k

Warnings: Established poly relationship, M/F/F threesome, spanking, choking, Dom!Eddie, Sub!Reader, Switch!OC, Pet names(Eddie has nicknames for both R & OC that I’ll explain in a different part), spint kink, scissoring, gum sharing?, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex. I think that’s it? Lmk if I missed any. 18+MDNI

A/N: Okay this idea came to me the other night and I was like possessed by it. I’m kind of obsessed with these three now and I’ve actually come up with other lore about them. I might expand on this lil AU if anyone’s interested. Thank you to my lovely betas @babygorewhore @bimbobaggins69 & @reidsbtch🧸🤍 Moodboard.

Eddie’s ringed fingers reach for the volume knob on the radio, turning it almost all the way down as he rounds the corner to his destination. He turns off the headlights as he slowly pulls his van close to the curb before cutting the engine. He always makes sure to be as quiet as possible, even if he is parked half a block down the road from the school itself. He pulls down the drivers side mirror, fluffing his unruly hair. He pops a piece of cinnamon gum into his mouth and exits his van, making sure not to slam the door like he tends to have a habit of doing.

He looks both ways, checking for bystanders. He was pretty sure there wouldn’t be anyone out on the street at 2AM, especially with the students strict curfew, but he always liked to be sure. If he got caught, he would be so fucked. He shoves the chain on his jeans in his pocket before hiking his leg up on the fence, vaulting himself as quietly as possible up and over onto the other side. He lands with a quiet thud, again checking his surroundings to make sure he was alone.

He walks around the edges of the campus, making sure to keep to the shadows and not set off any automatic lights. Once he reaches the building he’s come to know well he grabs a few small pebbles from the gravel beneath his feet. He tosses one up at the window he’s found himself crawling into most nights lately, and waits.

It only took a few seconds before he saw two heads popping into view, bright smiles on their faces. His heart rate immediately picks up, his stomach erupts with butterflies, and his cock slightly stirs in his pants at the prospect of what the night was going to bring.

Eddie quickly climbs up the conveniently placed fire exit ladder and the window is already pushed open for him when he reaches it. His long ripped jean clad legs enter the room and his boot covered feet hit the ground with a gentle thud one by one.

“My girls.” He smiles wide, taking the sides of your faces in each of his hands. “I missed you.”

“Eddieee.” You nuzzle your face into his palm, practically purring like a kitten. Looking up at him through your lashes with those big sweet eyes that drive him insane. “I missed you.”

“Hey nerd boy.” Mina chuckles, turning her face to nip at his fingers. “We saw you less than 24 hours ago.”

“So you didn’t miss me, pretty girl?” Eddie mock pouts, his thumb running along your girlfriend’s plump bottom lip.

“I didn’t say that, did I?” She rolls her eyes, taking his digit into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it, pulling a groan from his chest.

“Don’t fall for her tough girl act Eds, you should’ve heard her when I was underneath her skirt between classes earlier… ‘fuck baby, you’re so good, I wish I was watching Eddie fuck you from behind right now’ she totally missed you.”

“Hey!” She pulls off Eddie’s thumb with a pop, a string of spit still connected to her lips. “It’s not fair to use what I say when you’re eating me out like it’s the last chance you’ll ever get against me, brat!”

“That’s okay she pretty much lost me at ‘when I was underneath her skirt between classes earlier’… you two are going to fucking kill me, I swear.” Eddie groans, throwing his head back while he runs his hands down his face. The image of you and your girlfriend sneaking off in your little catholic school uniforms to get each other off driving both him and his cock insane.

“Is that doing it for you, Eddie? Thinking about us fucking when you’re not here? Because we do… All. The. Time. Before class, between class, after… we were just messing around before you got here actually…” The look on your face is innocent while the words leaving your mouth are anything but and Eddie swears every single time he comes here his dick gets harder than he ever thought possible.

“We tried to wait for you, but we just got so worked up thinking about you coming over… we couldn’t help ourselves.” Mina reaches up to run her long pointed black nails down his cheek and he grabs onto her wrist, stopping her movements.

“So you admit it then, you missed me? You can deny it if you want, but I bet the minute I get my hands on that pussy it’ll be dripping for me…” He smirks at her, his ember orbs boring into her mossy ones as his lips trail open mouth kisses down her wrist. “Show me…”

“Huh? Show you what?” Her eyes are wide, her body language much more relaxed than it had been in the last few minutes.

“You already getting all dumb on me, baby? All I did was put my lips on you…” Eddie’s large ringed hand grips her jaw, shaking her head from side to side. “Get on the bed and show me what you were doing with our girl before I got here.”

A whimper leaves her lips and it makes you clench around nothing. You always love watching them together. Mina was the more dominant of the two of you, often taking control in and out of the bedroom. So watching the way she submits so easily to Eddie makes you melt. They were both so fucking hot.

He releases her wrist and steps back, leaning against the desk near the wall. He crosses his feet at the ankles and looks at you both expectantly. His eyes finally take the time to drink you both in. If he hadn’t been so distracted by your dirty words and flirty banter what you were doing before he got here probably would’ve been obvious.

You were in nothing but a little pink cami that had a bunny printed on the front, your little white lace panties were adorned with a pink bow and you even had on fucking ruffle socks. You were the epitome of a little religious girl gone bad. Mina on the other hand was very much your opposite. Her black cut off tank top had a little skull and crossbones printed on it, her red g-string sat high on her hips, her feet were bare and the moonlight reflected off her black polished toes. She was the perfect example of what happens when religious girls rebel. Your lips were kiss swollen and her long dark hair looked like you’d been pulling at it. God, Eddie was the luckiest bastard to ever walk the earth.

He watches with his bottom lip secured between his teeth as she approaches you, one hand resting on your hip while the other grabs onto the hair at the nape of your neck. She uses her grip to pull your face to hers, kissing you with fever. Your hands snake around her to grab handfuls of her ass and she moans into your mouth.

“Wanna give Eddie a show, baby girl?” She mumbles against your lips.

“Fuck ya.” You pull back from her with a glint in your eyes and a smirk on your lips. Those mischievous eyes meet Eddie’s as you pull your girlfriend by the hand towards your bed. She sits against the headboard with her legs spread and you climb on top of her. You position your legs so your hips are tilted to the side, your barely clothed core sat directly on top of hers. You roll your hips causing both of you to moan at the feeling.

Her hands grip onto your ass to help you move against her while her hips grind up to meet your thrusts. You take her face in your hands and connect your lips again, your tongue darting out across her bottom lip, silently requesting access. She grants it to you immediately, intertwining her tongue with your own while she moans into your mouth.

Eddie licks his lips at the sight, the way your girlfriend’s long nails dig into the flesh of your ass, the way your tits are pressed up against each other while you grind together. His cock is so hard it feels like it’s going to pop the button on his jeans, he hastily reaches for his belt, clumsily undoing it. Then he moves onto his button and zipper, fumbling slightly, not wanting to take his eyes off the two of you. His cock finally springs free and hits his stomach, a drop of precum dripping onto his dark faded band tee. He spits in his palm before taking his cock in his hand, stroking it roughly. A moan rips through him at the feeling of finally being touched, even if it’s his own.

“Mmm look at Eddie baby…” Your head is turned towards him now as your eyes drink him in hungrily. Mina’s face leaves the crook of your neck to follow your gaze and the sight combined with just the right roll of your hips makes her whimper.

“Fuck, you like what you see, nerd boy?” She pushes your tank top up over your tits and takes them in her soft hands without breaking eye contact with him. Your hips pick up speed and you’re both so wet now that your combined juices are making the fabric of your panties stick together with each roll of your hips.

“You know I do, pretty girl.” He smirks right back, his hand still stroking his thick cock while his eyes travel over both your bodies. Her tongue licks around your areola before she takes your nipple in her mouth, causing you to gasp.

“I want more.” You whimper. She feels so good against you, but it’s not quite enough. You need to feel her. You lift your hips just enough to use your hands to push both of your panties to the side before lowering yourself back down onto her warm wet cunt. Her clit bumps against yours and you’re both so wet you practically glide against her. “Fuck, yes.”

Eddie approaches the side of the bed, taking both of your jaws in his hands, forcing you both to look up at him. “Goddamn, you guys are so fucking sexy, can you cum like that for me? If you’re good girls and make each other cum I’ll give you my cock.”

His words spur you on, your hands coming to rest on Mina’s shoulders for leverage as you grind your wet pussy against hers. She leans forward to take your nipple into her mouth, her free hand toying with your other one.

“Oh fuuuck, yes. You’re so wet baby, you feel so good. I’m gonna cum.” You press yourself down on her hard, moving your hips in a circular motion that has her clit gliding deliciously through your wet folds. Her teeth sink into the meat of your tit, sending you over the edge. Her hands grab onto your hips, guiding you against her as your high crashes over you.

“Mmm that’s it, good girl, cum for us.” She pulls off of you so she can watch your face as you fall apart on top of her.

“Your turn.” You’re still panting as you come down from your orgasm but you use one hand to shove her shirt up over her tits, your tongue immediately flicking out to lick across her perky peaked nipples. Your other hand slides between your bodies, finding her clit with ease. You grind your palm against her sensitive bud while your tongue and lips continue their assault on her nipples.

“Fuuuuuck.” You hear Eddie groan above you and your eyes snap his direction, immediately meeting his lust filled ones. His tongue darts out across his bottom lip and you can’t see from how you’re angled but the way he’s shaking you can tell he’s jerking himself off again. You can’t wait to get your hands and mouth on every inch of him too.

“Cum for me baby, I wanna hear those pretty sounds.” You insert your middle and pointer finger inside her while your palm continues its ministrations on her clit.

“Oh my fucking god, that’s so good, you’re gonna make me - I’m gonna fucking cum!” Her sharp nails dig into your ass and a pornographic moan rips through her as she cums around your fingers. You fuck her through it, leaving open mouth kisses all across her chest.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen, shit.” Eddie’s voice breaks you from your Mina induced trance and you whip your head towards him. He’s shirtless now, his jeans still hanging low on his hips, his hard leaking cock on full display.

“Mmm does that mean we earned our reward? You look damn right edible, Mr. Munson.” You smirk up at him, practically salivating at the sight of the bead of precum dripping from his slit. Eddie groans, something about you calling him that makes his cock twitch.

“Yeah, I think you earned it, Bunny. Why don’t you get over here and suck it?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You climb off Mina, crawling towards him so you can sit in front of him on your knees. She follows suit, sitting close enough to you that your bare thighs touch. Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking cum just looking at you both on your knees for him, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Take your shirts off and stick out your tongues.” You turn towards your girlfriend, grabbing the hem of her already hiked up tank top and pulling it over her head. She does the same for you and then you both turn back towards him, sticking your tongues out just like he asked. “God fucking damn, have I ever told you I’m the luckiest man to ever live? Look at my beautiful girls, waiting for me to use their little throats.”

He slaps his cock against your tongue, that bead of precum you’d been eyeing dripping into your mouth just like you wanted. He glides his tip along your tongue a few times before turning to do the same to Mina. His large ringed hands come around both your heads, gripping onto the hair at the nape of your necks.

“Keep your tongues out.” He leans over you to spit in your mouth before using the grip he has on your hair to pull your face to his cock. You take the hint, taking as much of him as you can into your mouth. You bob your head up and down while he gives Mina the same treatment above you, pulling her head down next to yours once he's done. You feel her lips traveling up your shoulder to your jaw, she leaves wet kisses across your cheek until she reaches your mouth. Her tongue darts out to lick the part of Eddie’s shaft that isn’t down your throat, curling around it.

“Holy fuuuucking shit.” Eddie groans, he uses the grip on your hair to pull both of your heads back again, looking down at you with lust filled eyes. “Be good girls for me and make out on my cock.”

Mina smirks up at him before leaning forward to lick along the side of his length, you follow her lead, running your tongue up the opposite side. You both lick all around his cock like it’s a lollipop, your tongues occasionally touching and intertwining around it. She takes his tip in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it before taking him fully down her throat with a gag. You lean down so you can kitten lick across his balls, tasting the musky saltiness that is Eddie. You suck one of them into your mouth, your tongue massaging around the soft skin before pulling off and giving the other one the same treatment.

“Shit shit shit!!!” He pulls you both off of him with a gasp. “You gotta stop or I’m gonna fucking blow my load I swear you two are little succubi.”

“Mmm… you just taste so good, we want your human essence.” You giggle up at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “You know Eds… I haven’t even gotten a kiss yet.” You pout.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Bunny, I guess I got carried away, huh? Come here.” He grabs your face in his hands, leaning down to place a kiss that was much more gentle than you were expecting on your lips. He kisses you a few times before turning to Mina and attempting to give her the same treatment. But you watch as she grabs onto his hair and tugs, pulling his face hard against her own. Her tongue licks across his lips and his darts out to meet hers. She sucks his tongue into her mouth, bringing the cinnamon gum he was chewing with her.

“You’re sweet and all, nerd boy. But I’m still really fucking horny and I believe you promised us your cock? I’d like to cash in on that now.” She bites down on his bottom lip before pulling away with a smirk, popping his gum between her teeth.

“Yeah? You want my cock? Hands and knees, both of you. I wanna try something.”

Mina pulls her thong down her legs before flipping over on her hands and knees with her back arched, her ass in the air and on full display. You do the same, wiggling your ass back and forth as you look at Eddie over your shoulder. You watch with hungry eyes as he discards his jeans. His ring adorned hand comes down on your asscheek causing you to jolt forward with a yelp.

“Look at these perfect fucking assess, and they’re all mine…”

He pumps his cock a few times before running it through your slick folds, dipping the tip inside of your entrance before slapping it against your clit.

“Eddieeee…” you whine and wiggle your ass again, pushing back against him.

“Aww is a little Bunny feeling greedy?” You can hear the dumb smirk in his voice but you don’t have time to talk back before he’s shoving himself balls deep inside of you, knocking the air from your lungs. The stretch is so good, every single time. No matter how many times he fucks you it’s like he’s filling you up just right.

He starts fucking into you rough and fast, his grip on your hip is so tight that you hope the ring indents that had started to fade from last time are even darker than before. His free hand comes down hard on Mina’s asscheeks in succession before he’s soothing it with his palm and running his thick fingers through her dripping slit. He inserts two fingers inside her and starts to fuck her with them in tandem with the thrusts of his cock inside you.

“Fuck bunny, you’re so wet, this little pussy is squeezing me so tight.” The hand on your hip finds your clit, applying a delicious amount of pressure while he continues to bury himself deep inside you.

“Baby, gimme a kiss.” Mina’s voice almost sounds like it’s underwater with how close you are to cumming but you turn your face towards her. She grabs your jaw in one of her hands and smashes your lips together in a desperate moan filled kiss. Her tongue slips between your lips, exploring every inch, the gum she had just taken from Eddie’s mouth slips into your own and it still somehow tastes cinnamony sweet.

“I’m gonna c - cum, I’m gonna cum.” Your words are slurred against her lips, Eddie hits that perfect spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“Yeah baby? You gonna cum? Mi, why don’t you be a good girl and cum for me too?” Eddie continues his assault on your g-spot while his skilled fingers curl just right inside your shared girlfriend's cunt. It only takes a few more pumps of his cock to send you over the edge, Mina tumbling over her own right after you.

Eddie fucks you both through your highs before pulling his fingers away, he uses his other hand to grip onto your hair and pull your back flush against his chest.

“Suck.” He brings the slick covered digits to your mouth and you greedily take them in, tasting your girlfriend’s sweet nectar. “Good girl.”

He releases his grip on your hair and you fall forward, catching yourself on your hands at the last minute. You go to turn around but he grips your hips, keeping you in place.

“Stay. I didn’t say you could move, did I?” He smacks your ass before turning to Mina, roughly gripping her hips. “You want my cock now, kitty? I think you’ve earned it.”

“Just fuck me already, Munson.” Normally Eddie would take the time to tease her for her attitude, make her beg a little, but he’s so fucking hard he needs to be inside of her, right now. He grabs onto his cock, lining it up with her puffy lips, he pushes himself all the way inside of her in one thrust, throwing his head back when she clenches around him.

“You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?” He leans over her so his lips brush against the shell of her ear, trailing a few kisses down her throat. He stops at the juncture of her throat, sinking his teeth down onto it while he starts to fuck into her roughly.

“Yeah, but you fucking love it.” Her chuckle turns into a strangled moan when he wraps a hand around her throat, his cock pounding into her so deep she can feel him hitting her cervix.

You look over at them and you can’t help but moan at the sight. Eddie’s head is thrown back, revealing the expanse of his thick throat, a layer of sweat covers his inked chest and he’s growling almost animalistically. Mina’s face is slightly red from the way she’s being choked, a bit of drool is dripping from the corner of her mouth and her tits are bouncing deliciously. You want to lean down and suck them, and lick the drool off her chin but you also want to be a good girl and for Eddie so you decide to stay put.

And damn does it pay off, because one second he’s pounding into your girlfriend like his life depends on it and next thing you know he’s pulling out of her and thrusting deep inside you. He’s fucking you as hard as he was fucking her, picking up the pace he left off on. He thrusts into you a few more times before he’s pulling out and plunging back into Mina. He continues like this for a bit, fucking deeply into one of you before switching off and giving the other the same treatment. The room is filled with the sounds of your moans and slapping skin, and in the back of your mind you’re thankful that the girl next door moved out last week.

“My good fucking girls, letting me use your little holes like this, you’re so fucking good for me. Fuck!” Eddie pumps his into your girlfriend deep and hard, before pulling out and plunging into your wet, waiting heat. “Mi, go get in front of Bunny so I can watch her eat that pretty little pussy from the back while I fill her up with my cum.”

She’s past the point of giving him shit, so fucked out that she will do anything he asks without question. She crawls so she’s positioned on her hands and knees in front of you and your grab onto her asscheeks, spreading them apart.

“Looks so tasty…” You spread her open a few more times, watching her clench around nothing, then you lean forward and plunge your tongue as far as it can go inside of her. You fuck into her with your tongue before licking down to her clit, sucking it into your mouth.

Eddie is about to lose it, your pussy is clenching him so tight and your ass is bouncing deliciously against his hips. The sounds and the sight of you devouring your girlfriend is enhancing his pleasure by tenfold. He reaches his hand around you to rub circles on your clit, angling his hips the way he knows you love it.“Fuck baby, I’m not gonna last much longer… need you to cum for me.”

You bring two of your fingers to Mina’s entrance, pushing them inside her and curling them upwards. She pushes back against you, her pussy clenches around your fingers and you can tell she’s close too.

“Shit, I’mgonnafuckingcum.” She whimpers.

“Cum for us kitty, cum on our girl's face. I’m gonna cum too - fuckingshit.” Eddie’s thrusts get sloppy but he’s still fucking you so good, the speed of his fingers picks up on your clit and you feel his cum start to spill inside you. Mina’s pussy is like a vice grip on your fingers and the moans she’s letting out are like music to your ears. It’s all so hot and it has your own orgasm wracking through your body.

You’re all panting as you pull apart from each other, throwing yourselves down on the bed with Eddie in the middle. You both rest your heads on his shoulders, your legs thrown over each of his thighs. You and Mina absentmindedly play with each others fingers that rest on Eddie’s chest.

“I can’t fucking wait until you guys get out of here.” Eddie sighs.

“Soon baby, just one more month and this catholic collage nightmare will be over.” Your girlfriend places a gentle kiss on his peck, resting her chin there so she can look up at him.

“Then our dads will finally get off our asses and release our trust funds to us. And we can buy a nice house, and get you studio time.” You lean up to kiss his jaw, mimicking Mina’s position so you can look at his beautiful face too.

“Yeah? You guys are my certified sugar mama’s I swear.” Eddie chuckles, bringing his hands up so he can cup both of your jaws. He rubs his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks and looks into both of your eyes, placing a gentle kiss on each of your lips. He seriously was the luckiest bastard to ever live.

#eddie munson x reader #Dolly writes #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie Munson one shot #eddie munson x fem!oc #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

[loliwrites]

The One You Need | four

🎶 I spent most my life thinkin’ love was out of reach, so maybe just this once, you could be the one I need, if you let me be the one you need🎶

pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader  rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni  summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. warnings/tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], hyper-independent reader, unannounced visitors, actual daddy issues, would-be suitor being forceful, perceived b&e, handgun [not used], SMUT, slight resistance kink, mild choking, fingering, oral [f receiving], slight degradation [one usage of whore] unprotected p in v sex, praise kink, aftercare, terms of endearment [sweetheart], THEY SHARE A BED, female reader, no physical description, protective!joel, soft!joel, dare i say ei!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 8.0k joel miller masterlist | part three a/n: we're doing the thing, y'all!

This was new for Joel. When you’d dodged him for nearly a month after he’d put your bed together, he just figured that was the action of a new neighbor from the west coast. He never figured you’d waltz your way back in with your faulty refrigerator. But this wasn’t that. This was post-sex when you all but fled his home. And for having told him one night stands weren’t your style, he thought you were doing a mighty fine job of making them your style. 

It had been three days since that night and he hadn’t heard a peep. Not a check in, drive by, or walk through. It was as if your presence in the neighborhood had been a figment of his imagination. The only reason he knew it was real was because he was missing one of his shirts – the one you’d left in. And for three days hadn’t even done as much as slingshot it back to him or send by way of carrier pigeon. The amount of times in the past three days he thought he’d walk over and ask for, or demand, an explanation surpassed the amount of digits on his hands. But every time he talked himself out of it, telling himself all you needed was time.

But time only brought you one thing. A boy. In some automatic, foreign car. He rolled up the night of that third day and stepped out in a well-pressed black suit. Joel wasn’t spying, no… he just happened to mosey out to the porch and saw it all happening. He even witnessed you leave your house in a long red dress. Saw you descend the porch with this new boy, how he opened up the passenger door for you, and how you ducked into it. As that foreign car drove away, Joel turned and punched the post by his porch steps. The post was left unaffected. Joel’s hand, however, throbbed for the next three hours.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Staying out of Joel’s space had been intentional but the date had not been. This guy; he was a friend of a friend of a third cousin and he popped up out of nowhere. You hadn’t even really wanted to go out at all, let alone on some random date. But when you were shown a picture of the guy, he was… cute. He looked like the type of guy you normally let ruin your life, so ultimately you agreed. You hoped and prayed that Joel didn’t see you leave with this guy. And you spent the rest of the evening hoping and praying Joel would forgive you if he had. This wasn’t how you wanted it to go. The plan wasn’t to bed your neighbor and then leave him on the curb like trash. The plan wasn’t even to sleep with him, but given that you had, the rules to the game had changed so quickly. 

And Chad… Brad… whatever the hell his name was, he was just… what you expected he’d be. He was attractive and he knew it, but he had nothing on Joel and he had no idea. He had blonde hair cut into a neat and tidy style but it had no story. Joel’s unkempt graying curls told you of his age and the unwillingness to burden his life with things as menial as primping himself. This guy had bright blue eyes, but they didn’t leave you searching their depths for the meaning of life like Joel’s had. Clean-shaven, baby-faced, uncalloused hands… There were any number of things that he was that Joel wasn’t, and staying present in the moment with him proved to be a challenge when you hadn’t even processed everything about Joel yet.

When the date finally ended, and you were escorted home, you peeked over at Joel’s house, wondering if you’d see him out on his porch, strumming his guitar. You hoped not. Please, on everything that is holy, don’t let him be out there. And when you couldn’t quite tell if he was or not, you decided to count your lucky stars and work with the assumption that benefited you most.

Chad… Brad… walked you up to your door and stood eerily close to you while your back was to him, unlocking it. Heat radiated off of him, and unlike the heat that came from Joel, you didn’t quite like how this one felt against you. Door unlocked but foregoing opening it just yet, you pivoted in a tight circle so as to not brush up against him as you faced him.

“I had a good time tonight, thank you,” you murmured, staring at his face to get a read on if he was going to lean in for a kiss you were going to have to dodge.

“Y’know, I didn’t get to see your place when I first got here,” he said as if that were a totally normal thing for him to have done. “Maybe you can give me a tour,” he reached around you and went for the handle.

You pushed against his arm with your hip before he could get his thumb on the latch, “maybe another time.”

“You’re gonna cut the night short?” he smirked and closed the practically imperceptible gap that was between you anyway.

Trying to back up, but running out of room as your back hit the door, “yeah, I’ve got an early morning.”

“What I want won’t take very long,” he leaned his hips forward, pressing them up against yours where it was oh so very clear he was sporting a semi. “C’mon, I bought you a fancy dinner, the least you could do is put out,” he still reached around you and pressed on the latch, nudging open your front door.

“Hey bud,”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Panic. Or was it relief? And managed to escape from Brad’s (or was it Chad?) hips, tugging your door shut again as you side-stepped away. He turned around and found Joel, climbing the porch steps coolly.

“I think you should leave,” Joel said, resting his hands on his hips. He even smiled at his suggestion.

“Who are you?” Your date asked and looked back in your direction as if he’d be able to grab you again, but you’d already moved to the side.

Joel flicked his eyes at you as if inspecting to see if any hurt had been done, then looked back at the would-be suitor. “Doesn’t matter, I think it’s time you got outta here,”

“Dude, she was just inviting me in,”

“Dude, no she wasn’t. I don’t wanna have to call the cops, just get goin’,”

Your date chuckled incredulously. He turned to you with what looked like mild fury in his eyes, “your pussy’s not worth all this.”

You nodded in agreement, “it definitely is not.”

Joel waited until he was gone – watched him all the way to his car, and until it took off down the street, before he looked back at you. You’d already made it back to your front door and were backing into it, leaning against the frame.

“Thanks,”

He nodded once and turned. Then over his shoulder, “your pussy is worth it.”

You laughed and shook your head, “thanks!” 

Back, safe and sound in your house, you locked the front door right away and carried on through the rooms, first into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, then back toward your bedroom. There was a brief thought about how Joel must’ve been outside when you’d arrived back home, and now there were new lucky stars to thank. But that thought was pushed aside when you glanced into the den as you passed it and it made your heart stop. It was the only room left to be unpacked. You’d eventually use it as an office, but right now it was just a handful of cardboard boxes and pictures that hadn’t been hung yet. But the mess wasn’t what gave you pause. It was that it was the room with your back door, and that door was currently wide open.

You ran back through the house, set your glass of water on something, and bolted back through the front door. “Joel! Joel!”

He was gathering his things from the porch, getting ready to go inside when he’d heard your panicked calls and immediately ran off his porch and toward you, meeting in the middle of the street.

“There’s– my door– open–” you took a deep breath just to fill your lungs with substantial air. “I think someone broke in,”

In the same instant, Joel reached behind his back and pulled a handgun out of his waistband. He side-stepped you and went toward your house, knowing you’d be right behind him.

“You had that on you the whole time?!” He didn’t answer. Just kept laser focus on your house. “Were you gonna shoot him?”

“Maybe,”

“Joel!”

Finally, he turned toward you, and even in the darkness you could tell the glare he shot you was something icy. “‘M’gonna need you to be real quiet when we go through your house, okay?” He waited for you to nod, obediently. “Stay right behind me. Hand in my pocket or finger in my belt loop, got it?”

You nodded again, and when he turned around you tucked your fingertips into the back pocket of his jeans. Even as he began to walk and approach your home, you stuck close, feet falling in rhythm with his to practically meld yourself to his body. He held the handgun poised in front of him in both hands, only lowering one to push your door open. With a clear line of vision inside, he paused and listened before carrying on inside. All of his movements, searching and clearing each room, were deliberate and methodical. He took his time. Reaching around your back to hold you close to him when he needed to turn or pivot, making sure you remained fully behind him at all times. 

Without searching every room, he made his way back to your bedroom. No one was standing there, or hiding under the bed, and with the closet being the only other place to hide in the room, it was one of the easier one’s to search. The closet, he soon came to learn, wasn’t a viable hiding place as it was still only partially unpacked, stacks of luggage and boxes obscuring the floor. He shut your bedroom door and lifted your hand out of his pocket.

“I’m gonna search the rest of the house. Stay here and lock the door,”

“Joel, what if–”

He held up his hand and shook his head, “don’t worry about it. Lock the door. Don’t open it until I get back.”

That was it before he went back out. You ran up and locked it behind him, then quickly backed away, to your bed, nervous as all hell, and fighting every urge your body had to break out in a sob. It seemed to take forever. His absence made the worry inside you grow. If only he’d just come back. You’d say or do whatever he wanted to make things better again. To not have him shooting daggers your way. To just live as harmoniously as you needed to, to not make the neighborhood unbearable. You’d become a hermit and never see another man in all your life if that’s what it took. Not that that didn’t seem like a great option at this point.

Three gentle knocks on your door, “it’s me. You can open up,”

You ran to it and turned the knob, the lock clicked back on itself, and you came face to face with Joel once again, finding him completely unharmed. He tucked the handgun back into his waistband, “we had some strong winds earlier. Might’ve blown the back door open. Did you have it locked?”

Thinking back, you couldn’t be sure. You’d been in and out of it so frequently, throwing things in the trash that the likelihood of it having been left unsecure was relatively high. Shrugging, you looked up at him with timid eyes, hoping to find a little bit of comfort there. But they were still cold, thwarting off any advance you might be making for warmth.

“Well, the latch is busted now so you’ll have to get someone in here to fix it,”

“You can’t fix it?”

He tilted his head to the side. After what you’d put him through in the last few days, he was surprised you even asked that at all. You were the one who apparently didn’t want him around. That is, until you needed him for something. “You ignore me for three days after we sleep together and are only talking to me because you need me to do you a favor,”

“Joel,”

“I’m not some fuckin’ toy you get to play with whenever it’s convenient for you,”

“You scare me!”

“Why?!”

The argument had gotten loud and you hadn’t wanted it to. That was too much like home. You just wanted peace and quiet. But even if your surroundings could be, your brain never was. And it hadn’t been for the last three days. It had been loud and persistent. “Because what if this keeps going?! Whatever this is, it keeps going. We keep fucking. And you keep fixing things. And suddenly we’re staying the night at each other’s places sporadically. And then I’m meeting your daughter. And your brother. And you’re learning about all my fucked up stuff. And we keep doing this thing for however long. And then we give it a label. And we’re a couple. And it just keeps going.”

Having grown baffled at the road your brain had traveled down, Joel furrowed his eyebrows and studied you. He folded his arms over his chest, and only when you’d stopped talking did he offer any response, “so?”

All that and a one word answer? You could’ve slapped him silly. “What if we never break up?”

He laughed and rolled his eyes, “sweetheart, I don’t think that’d be an issue. You seem difficult,”

You shoved your hands against his chest as he continued to laugh. “I mean it! And then I’m like… dependent,” you nearly gagged at the word, “on you like some sad, servant housewife that’s just waiting in her window for her husband to get home so she can fix his meals and wash his clothes.”

He let out a breath that almost sounded like another laugh, “you’re fuckin’ insane, you know that?” Swinging at his chest again, he caught your wrists this time and held them against him tightly. “First of all, a wife’s not a servant. Second, I wouldn’t want you to cook for me anyways. Campbell’s soup in a can for the past week! And lastly, if we never broke up – which I assure you we would because you’re nutty – then you’d be the person I get to come home to and fall into your arms, and relax with! And I’d take the trash out to the bins, and pick the flowers in the yard for you, and pull your fuckin’ hair out of the shower drain when it clogs. And yeah, you might do my laundry every now and again, but we’d do it because we’d love each other. Your shit would be my shit, and there’s nothin’ I wouldn’t do for you.”

You stood, mouth agape, not blinking, staring up at Joel. He let go of your wrists and all but pushed them away, but you were back on him in a second. Hands replaced on his chest, this time with the utmost care, fingers curling into the fabric of his cotton t-shirt.

“I’m not trying to take your independence away. Not tryin’ to trap you. Hell, we don’t have to call this anything, just don’t ignore me.” He only stared, as if allowing himself to live in the feeling of your hands on him, pressing down on his chest but really into his soul. “If you want a man and not a boy, you got one, but it requires you to be a woman and not some scared, little girl.”

“I can be,” you assured, eyes dropping down to where your hands lay on his chest. Then once looking back into his eyes, your hands drifted further south, blazing a trail over the fabric of his shirt until you felt the rough denim of his jeans.

“Y’know,” he smirked almost devilishly, as if daring you to continue on, “you’re just a dog with a loud bark, but you got no bite.”

“Did you just call me a dog?” You grinned back, playfully squinting your eyes.

“No bite at all. You just fold and turn over on your back like a pup,”

“I got bite,”

Joel’s eyebrow quirked but his eyes didn’t waver from yours. Not even when you lowered a hand to his crotch and gave it a squeeze. He gave you no reaction, just tilted his head to the side as if he was waiting for you to amuse him.

And it got your mind spinning. What did bite look like? What did he think that meant? That you’d get on your knees and give him the sloppiest head this side of the Mississippi? Because to you, bite looked like everything you’d ever been to him. It looked like stubbornness or as he liked to call it brattiness. Last time, he’d fucked it out of you. A tried and true method. But if he wanted ‘bite’, he’d get it. Your way, on your terms.

So you swiftly undid his jeans, making quick work of the button and zipper as if they were only the slightest of inconveniences, and slipped your hand into his pants, giving him another generous and firm squeeze. By the looks of it, he was the one that nearly folded. But something else kept him preoccupied. It was then you remembered the handgun he’d tucked so haphazardly in his jeans. He reached around his back for it as you’d created a less secure space for it. And though it gave you pause as he pulled it out and glanced down at it to ensure the safety was on, it didn’t deter you completely from continuing. You removed your hand from his pants and pushed against his chest, sending you both in opposite directions. With the growing distance as you rounded to the side of your bed and a premature feeling that you’d somehow won, a smile passed over your lips. It was there and gone in a matter of milliseconds. No sooner than you’d felt it stretch across your face, Joel had closed the gap between you, lifted his free hand to your throat and with a firm hold on it, pushed you backwards. It wasn’t until you’d run out of real estate, pressed up against your closet door, that he stood over you with an almost playful glare like a cat who’d caught a mouse to toy with. He bent over and set the handgun down on the bedside table, then returned his complete focus to you. Fingers applied the softest of extra pressure to the sides of your neck and catching your gentle nod, he pressed them into a tighter squeeze.

Annoyance emanated from you – for you – that you liked it so much. That you enjoyed him having control over you, and effectively taking yours away. You hated that you wanted to give him control, when in every other aspect of life, you clung to it like a life raft in the ocean. Maybe thinking that that was all you had, there was no other fight or bite left, Joel’s fingers loosened from around your neck. And as though you hadn’t quite learned the lesson yet, thought you’d gained back some of the control, grunted and pushed on his chest again with all your might. It only sent him backward one step, and he retaliated with a searing grip on your wrist with one hand, and the return of his other hand to your neck for a cautious squeeze as his hips lowered to yours, effectively pinning you motionless.

“That was cute,”

You wriggled beneath him, trying to break free, but quickly found it pointless. His weight kept you where he wanted you and his hand on your neck was the decision-maker now. You let out a sigh of surrender, body fully collapsing and giving up beneath him.

Joel felt the fight leave your body and released your neck and wrist at the same time. With his hips still buried into yours, and now absently rubbing against you, he ducked his head to the side and planted a series of soft kisses to your neck where his fingers had just been.

“You just wanna be a good girl, don’tcha?” He could feel your pulse quicken against his lips on your neck. The only response he got came in the form of a needy whine and he set his hands on the closet door at either side of your head. “You don’t want to have to bite, huh?” He was almost goading you now, grinding his growing length against your waist. “Just looking for a bigger, badder dog to lead the way for you,”

You weren’t sure why, because except for in a sexual sense, it wasn’t necessarily true, but you nodded anyway. He could have control here. You liked not having it here if it meant you got to retain it in other aspects of life. At your acceptance, he laid a kiss on you. As good of a kiss as he’d ever given you; made sweeter by that fact that you’d made sure you’d gone without it for the last few days. Just as a headrush began, he pulled away, and it had you leaning forward as much as you could to try and get his lips back.

“I want you to get undressed and lay down on your back for me.” He thought you’d get going, but he was confronted with a pout instead. Smacking the side of your hip, “get going or I’ll put those lips to better use,”

“Is that a threat?” You smirked, reaching behind your back for the zipper on your dress.

“‘S’a promise,”

You couldn’t even really relish and appreciate his promise as at this point you remembered the trial in gymnastics it took to zip up your dress in the first place. It started far too low on your back and ended far too high to be accessible for a single human to do on their own, and at one point, you’d seriously considered just letting your date into your house without dinner just so you could stay naked and save the trouble. In hindsight – small blessings that you’d managed to get it zipped up.

“Help,” you murmured to Joel and spun around in the same moment, pressing your ass back against his crotch. Setting your hands on the closet door for more leverage to rut against him, you pressed harder, feeling the form of his growing length against your backside.

Joel didn’t waste too much time in helping you, opting to tug the zipper down in one quick fell swoop instead of taking his time with it. But as soon as your back was exposed to him, he snaked his arms around your torso and pressed one large, strong palm over your belly while the other found your clit. He cupped your sex and gently bit down on the back of your shoulder. Then as if he remembered what he’d previously been doing, he removed his hands from you and tapped your ass.

“G’on, lay down,”

You obeyed him and delicately let your dress fall from your shoulders and to the floor. He was pleased to see you already without a bra, and by the time you turned and laid back on your bed, Joel was at the latter part of pulling his t-shirt over his head and throwing it to the floor with your dress. He descended upon you as you’d moved up to rest your head on the pillows. But that wasn’t in his plans yet. He grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you down along the duvet until your legs hung over the end of the bed.

“Joel,” you gasped, finding yourself immediately repositioned. He hadn’t even bothered with a kiss to your lips or a check in, but opted for migrating straight to your breasts. 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he kneaded your soft flesh in his hands and knelt to the floor at the end of your bed.

You heard his knees click on the way down, and truly wanted to say something about it this time – maybe that it was time for a couple knee replacements – but found yourself cut off again when he gripped onto the thin line of your g-string and began to pull it away from your center. “Joel, wait…”

And to his credit, being face to face with your wet slit and already sporting a hard on, his fingers stilled immediately. Quit their pursuit of ridding you from the underwear that was barely there anyway, and opted for bending in to kiss the inside of your thigh.

“I don’t think…” your voice trailed off as he sucked on your inner thigh, surely leaving a mark. Then steadfastly, kissed the skin again.

“I like you like this,” he murmured against your thigh before moving an inch higher and kissing that fresh skin. “Soft,”

A whimper died in your throat, only barely emitting soundwaves into the space between you. But your gaze remained locked on him for any sudden movements.

“I got you, you know that, right?” He kissed your opposite thigh when you nodded. “You can be soft, and small; I got you,” he smiled when you nodded again. “Can I take this off?” his fingers toyed with your g-string again, “can I taste you? And give you a couple brain-melting orgasms,”

“Where’s that horn,” you giggled and looked around the room as if searching for it, finding it bought you some time and distance from having to look directly in his soul-piercing eyes. But he grazed his teeth against your inner thigh again like a horse chomping at the bit, and that got you locked on him again. “You can try. A little bit,”

His hands got back to immediate work and carefully slid the miniscule fabric past the curve of your ass, down from your core, trying not to get lost in the way a bit of your arousal connected you to the fabric for a second longer until he pulled it further away, down your thighs, past your calves, and finally, off completely. He lifted your legs, set them atop his shoulders, positioning himself right in the center of where he yearned to be, and kissed your inner thigh again, this time higher than he’d previously been. His hands found their way to your hips, fingers digging into the flesh as he worked you into a more comfortable state before lips would meet your slit.

Nerves bubbling up to the surface, realizing you’d have a helluva time trying to dissociate from this, you reached down and clawed at the back of one of his hands. He flicked his eyes up to you in time to adjust, releasing your hip and allowing you to take his hand in yours. He moaned against your skin as he moved higher, now to where your leg and hip met, and laced his fingers with yours. You squeezed his hand and he took it as approval for the next step. Of laying a wet kiss on your clit. Thighs briefly squeezed closer to his head, releasing just in time as he licked a broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit. 

A high-pitched groan fell past your lips and he shook his head against you when his mouth made contact with your clit again. He hummed too, sounding beyond elated with his current position. A noise you hadn’t ever quite heard with such enthusiasm. As if everyone in the past had been doing it cursorily instead of out of sheer desire.

Joel flicked his tongue over your clit repeatedly, then lowered his mouth to your entrance and rimmed the tight opening. The feeling of you squirming beneath him was all he needed by way of encouragement. He guided your hand up to his head, not completely satisfied until you released his hand and grabbed hold of his hair. Only then did he move his hand up over your belly and pressing his palm flat against it to hold you still, while his other hand moved from your hip and hooked around your thigh.

“J-Joel… please,” you breathed out, lifting your head to look down at him. But his eyes were closed, getting lost in his ministrations that were unending. You let your head drop back to the bed, “oh my god, please.”

In the past, there had been a worry about the amount of time it took, or how long a boy would be willing to go to get you there. Now, you weren’t quite sure what time was. Or how much had passed. Maybe it had been only a few minutes, maybe it had been fifteen. But your eyes snapped open and made contact with your bedroom ceiling because Joel pressed his middle and ring fingers against your soaked entrance. “Joel,” you whimpered again.

For the first time since he’d begun, he pulled his mouth off you, though his eyes remained on his fingers for the time being, “I got you, girl. Bein’ such a good girl for me,” as he knew it would, your body reacted to his praise. Relaxed. And he slowly urged his fingers inside you, gaze now flicking upward to watch your expression. Jaw slack and eyes rolling back until they shut, he evenly pulled his fingers in and out of you. “Look at you, sweetheart. Like my fingers inside you?”

You nodded emphatically, choking out a sound with a throat that had run dry.

“This pussy’s so good,” he leaned back in and licked your entrance where it met his fingers and continued up to your clit, “tastes so fuckin’ good.”

Thighs closed around his head, muscles twitching and spasming on their own volition. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,”

He smiled against you, softly sucking your clit into his mouth and rolling his tongue flat against it. The mewls it drew from your lips sounded like the sweetest song he’d ever heard. You didn’t need to tell him not to stop. He’d keep doing whatever it was that got that sound to come out of you. 

Joel moaned against you and it sent a vibration up through you that was the last thing you really needed to get you to your first orgasm of the night. It had been on a nonstop incline since he’d started, and the release was just there at the edge. You were sure Joel could tell. His fingers moved more hastily, his mouth and tongue not ceasing for even a second. But then – your brain entered the picture. Took center stage. Reminded you that some man was in between your legs, his mouth performing pure magic… and though your orgasm still neared, your brain fought for distance. 

Your hand had been nestled snugly in his hair, holding him against you, begging him to stay put. But now you were using it to push back on his head. Your release was there, centimeters away, and you desperately pressed against his head, trying to pry him off of you. “Joel, no, please. Stop,”

He pulled his mouth away, though his fingers remained pumping inside of you, and with a growl, he leaned forward and moved his free hand up to your neck, getting a soft grip on either side of it. “Come on, right here,” he curled his fingers inside you, “come all over my fingers.” 

But you only whined and writhed beneath him, now frustrated that you’d pushed away his mouth – the very thing that had been getting you to your climax.

“Got you moanin’ like a whore with my mouth… Push me away…” He shook his hand with his fingers deep inside you, rocking the entire lower half of your body, “c’mon, give it to me.”

The hold he had on your neck tightened and without his mouth, that had been your undoing. You came with a scream, back arching off the bed, chest spasming. Joel removed his fingers from you before you’d ridden out the entirety of your climax, and slapped his hand down on your clit at the tail end of it. You whined a little louder when that sent rippling shock waves through your body. Chest heaving, your sex, already red and swollen, Joel still got up from his knees and leaned over your body for a kiss. You could still taste a hint of yourself on his tongue and it made you want to ravage him more.

“Want you to fuck me,” you begged against his lips, pushing his underwear down past his waist. At some point while he was on his knees, he’d pushed his jeans down and had been able to step out of them when he stood back up. However it happened, you didn’t care, as long as it got him inside of you sooner.

Joel smiled against your lips and tapped your hip as he stood back up and rid himself of his underwear. “Turn over,” he ordered as he stroked himself, smearing the precum that leaked from his tip down along the length of his shaft.

Instantaneous obedience rushed over you and you clumsily turned over to your stomach and got up on your hands and knees. Joel’s hand returned to your skin soon thereafter. Fingers splayed over your ass cheek, digging into the supple flesh. It was the gentlest of the actions you’d feel over the next few minutes. Just enough time to relish in the expanse of his hand before he was using his other hand to guide his length to you, sliding his member over your wetness and then finally pushing himself inside of you.

The air evacuated your lungs with the feeling of him sinking into you. Relentlessly. Until he’d worked himself balls deep, nestled tight in your core. A throbbing overtook the lower half of your body and you allowed yourself to collapse, chest and head now resting on the bed while your backside remained up for Joel to use. And that he did. The thrusts you remembered from the first time together had felt deep, and were, no doubt. But they paled in comparison to the feeling of this, of his length actually splitting you in half, like an axe to a piece of wood. You released a long, lingering cry that changed into a breathy moan when his thrusts picked up, nothing but the sounds of your shared labored breaths and skin slapping together. 

“Shit,” Joel groaned, gripping onto your hips with a bone-crushing hold. His hips faltered for just a second. 

If you hadn’t been paying such rapt attention to the feeling of each inch inside you, you likely wouldn’t have noticed the stutter of his movement for the slightest of seconds. But it was impossible to ignore how he felt inside you. A fullness you sure was indescribable – at least indescribable by any sense that would do it justice. And a heaviness that was all-encompassing. It seemed to seep into every cell, weighing you down in the most delicious of ways. On shaky arms that seemed unlikely to be able to bear any weight, you pressed up from the bed to return to your hands and knees. 

But no sooner than you’d risen, a hand left your hip and migrated to the center of your upper back, pushing you back down until your chest was flush with the mattress again. “Stay like this,” his jaw dropped open when you squeezed around his shaft, and he very nearly doubled over. “Just like this,”

“Joel, I can’t–”

As though he was a mind reader, he slid his hand down your back and enveloped it around your hips; the pads of his fingers making contact with your clit again. Your body went soft for him again, malleable to whatever course of action was to come next.

“Yes. God yes,” you pleaded like God was in the room with you in the form of Joel.

“Feel fuckin’ incredible,” he moaned and offered a particularly hard thrust. One that had caught you off guard, and your knees slipped, sending your stomach down to the bed as well. 

He managed to follow you down, keeping himself sheathed deep inside you, and with hand still curled around you, kept you lifted enough for his fingers to continue massaging your clit in small, quick circles. Now with only your ass left above the rest of your body, he straddled your legs and scooted himself up closer. His thrusts now deep but short, you let out a shriek and curled your fists in your sheets.

“Takin’ this cock like a champ,” he bared his teeth into his bottom lip with a thrust that had his tip pressing against the opening to your cervix. You whimpered again, which only made him smile. “Yeah, you like that? Tell me about it,”

“Love it,” you panted. Legs pressed together, feeling fuller than ever with his hands on your clit, coil in your stomach was winding up. Tighter and tighter, and you knew it was only a matter of moments before you’d snap. “Fuckin’ love your cock, Joel,” 

Just expressing the sentiment made you throb, and you knew he felt it. Knew it when he replaced the circling of your clit with a couple quick taps to it which made your body jerk. He smiled again and reset his hands on your hips, using them for all the leverage he needed for what would end up being the last of what you’d be able to take. 

“Joel,” you cried and unwound a hand from the sheets to reach back for his hand on your hip. You curled it around two of his fingers, “I’m gonna…”

“Yeah, you are. Gonna be a good girl and come all over this cock?” He groaned after your body responded to his praise, “let me have it, sweetheart.”

You felt his hips falter again and thought if you could just hold out for a while longer, you’d both hit the peak together. So you stiffened your body, and tried to stave off the snapping of the spring inside you. Tried to blur out the pleasure for sheer focus. But all that did was send a shot of discomfort through you which settled in your chest and your body purged it with an animalistic growl.

Joel pressed his hands to the bed on either side of you and rested himself against your back, cautious to not lay all of his weight on you. He bit into your neck, “don’t wait for me. Go on, I’ll be right behind you,” his jaw slackened when your muscles clenched around him, sucking him in deeper and milking his length. 

“Promise?” you squeaked out, the beginning of your orgasm gearing up deep in your stomach. 

He smiled against your neck and nodded, “yeah, I promise. C’mon, sweetheart.”

It didn’t take too much more coaxing than that. One more thrust and you unraveled beneath him. Body trembling involuntarily with an endless string of moans filling the room. He grunted behind you and pulled out before you’d even finished. Stroked himself just a couple times before his own muscles flexed and released, releasing his come over your lower back and ass. You turned your head to the side when the feeling of his come hitting you finished, and smiled breathlessly at the sight of him giving his length a couple more tugs. He let go of his member and let it rest along your ass, taking deep breaths to steady himself.

Joel leaned down, his cock sliding to your lower back. He nestled his nose against your cheek and kissed your jaw, “you’re a good girl, huh?”

You grinned, cheeks growing hotter, and lifted your hands up behind you to tangle them in his hair.

“Yeah, you are,” he pecked your cheek once more then pushed himself off you. “I’ll be back, lemme clean you up.” He only waited for you to nod before he was off.

Left alone in your room, you leaned up on your elbows and looked around. It was pretty sparse and impersonal, like the rest of your house still. Nothing like Joel’s. In his house, everything screamed him. It was lived in, worn. The things that were out of place had been so for so long that their lack of a place became their place. He’d spent years making it a home while you were still just in a house. You wondered what it would take for your house to become that. Time? Maybe a dog? Or worst case scenario – a man?

Joel re-entered your room, towel in hand, and crawled back on the bed to you. He gently wiped away his spend until your skin was clean again. “Couldn’t find a washcloth,”

After he threw the towel to the floor by your bed, you rolled over onto your back, “don’t have ‘em. Got these,” you lifted her hands and waved them about.

He scrunched his nose and you swatted at his chest as he laid down beside you. With a hand holding yours against his chest, he maneuvered his other arm around you, behind your neck and shoulders, and pulled you into him. You rest your head down on his collarbone and focused on your fingers, running them along his tanned skin leaving invisible doodles in their wake. If you could just stay here like this, in the post-sex afterglow, you could almost convince yourself that the closeness wasn’t freaking you out. It was a lot so quickly. A far cry from your status quo.

“Can you stay tonight,” you asked in the same moment Joel kissed the top of your head. And because he didn’t answer right away, you felt the need to justify yourself. “If it wasn’t the wind and someone did bre–”

“I’ll stay,” he shook you reassuringly, “‘cause you’re nicer to cuddle up against than my old pillows,”

You wrapped your arm around him tighter, “this doesn’t mean anything.”

“Of course not.” For just a moment, he let his fingertips dance over the skin at your bare hip, smiling to himself at the goosebumps that erupted across it. Then he tapped your hip, “you should go to the bathroom,”

Ah, yes. Your delicate pH balance. Apparently it was on Joel’s mind more than it was on yours. You willed yourself out of bed and carried on into the bathroom, whereupon looking at yourself in the mirror, it was impossible to ignore the seemingly permanent smile on your face. You tried to get rid of it; tried to turn your lips into a straight line, but it wouldn’t leave. It was there. Etched deep and sure. And you knew it had very little to do with the fact that you were in your own home, a thousand miles away from family drama, and very much to do with the man waiting for you in bed.

If you from two months ago could see you now, you were sure there wouldn’t have been the slightest chance of recognition. While to most, and maybe even to Joel, a change had scarcely happened, you saw the leaps and bounds of apparent progress. Two months ago, you’d closed on the house and had swore off boys altogether. Like a form of housekeeping, you swept those ideas into a dustpan and deposited them in the garbage. Boys were superfluous. Intimate relationships were superfluous. A couple lousy boyfriends had taught you that, but they hadn’t been horribly awful people. They’d just been boys. Perhaps the worst of it was that your father had taught you that. Taught you that the man who was supposed to love you unconditionally, couldn’t, or just flat out didn’t. Taught you that romantic relationships looked like prison sentences. That a man would never be able to evolve and understand his own emotional range, let alone yours. And worst of all, that despite being obviously unhappy with everything, that he’d never leave, never let you leave; and instead hold you hostage in a relationship that everyone could see had failed, but he refused to admit for the sake of his own delicate ego. 

You grinned, thinking about how the only delicate thing about you was your pH balance.

“Y’alright?” Joel asked as you re-entered your bedroom. 

You figured you’d looked pretty spaced out upon returning. Not entirely sure how you’d made it back there from the bathroom. Still, you pressed a smile and crawled back into bed, immediately curling up into his side. Back in only his underwear, his skin against yours gave off tremendous heat and for the first time (perhaps in life), you really found yourself hoping that Joel was all the things he said he was, and that it wasn’t just performative.

“What’s this?” He held out a lone bolt in his fingers.

You tilted your head back from where it rested against his chest, “where’d you get that?”

“Side table,”

“You’re snooping in my stuff?”

“Yeah,” he nodded and jiggled the bolt in his hand again. “Where’d this come from?”

You shrugged and lowered your head, rubbing your cheek against his bare chest to get comfortable again. “Found it when I was Swifferin’ beneath my oven,”

The bolt stopped moving in Joel’s fingers and you peeked back up to find him stunned. “‘S’truly amazing your house hasn’t exploded yet,”

“What?” you whined, “it works and it’s not like I smell gas. It was probably an extra part,”

“Since when do ovens come with parts you don’t need?”

“Joel,” you whined again and wrapped your arm around his belly, holding him close.

He leaned over and set the bolt back down on the side table. He’d fix that tomorrow. Along with your back door. And maybe give everything else in your house a once over to make sure you wouldn’t combust.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Sun rays filtered in between the slits in your blinds and you cursed yourself (yet again) for not having invested in black out curtains. One of these days you would and maybe then you’d get a restful night of sleep. With a groan and an aching in your hips, you turned onto your back and looked to the side where Joel was still asleep, his back to you. Generally, sharing a bed with someone resulted in you having the worst night of sleep known to man. It was as if your brain could never really settle knowing someone was beside you. And while you had slept some last night, you couldn’t wait for Joel to not be in your bed the following night. 

After having slid out of bed, successful in not rousing him, you padded down the hallway to the kitchen and squinted out the front window where the neighborhood was slowly coming to life. A couple kids were riding their bikes in the street. Mr. Cole was hobbling down his driveway to pick up the newspaper. Your routine was coffee first and after a night like last, where your hips weren’t the only thing sore, but your thighs and core, too, coffee was supremely necessary.

The slowness of the act was almost meditative. You could turn off your brain. Grab the filter, scoop the coffee grounds, add the water, hit the button. At least on a normal day. What you didn’t know at that moment, but came to know halfway pouring the water, today was not to be a normal day. Not at all. Because a knock on your front door had you spilling some of the water down the side of the machine instead of within the well. 

You turned, confused, and then were riled into action when the knock happened again, this time more insistent. Perhaps one day you’d learn to look through the window first, or install a door with a peephole, but on this day, you simply tugged the front door open and felt your heart drop into your stomach.

“Mom? Dad?”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller au #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction

[ronearoundblindly]

For your Valentine's ask game: #7 Jake Jensen x reader, idk why but it seems fitting 😂

Shut Up, Jensen, one of my Valentine's Fics for 2024!

Oh, this poor, poor, awkward perv. He's pervy until there's a naked lady around and then 😳 "...when I was four, I shoved pennies up my nose..." Seriously, boi, shut up!

Warnings for spice, i.e. a setup to smutty times, but mostly suggestive. MINORS DNI, just to be safe. There's plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this one is not for you! WC 1042

You’ve always had a soft spot for nerds, and now, that’s translating to a damp spot on your fanciest panties you wore for this date.

Jake Jensen goofy-grinned his way through the entire evening, making you almost snort a tequila sunrise through your nose, and he never let up. The humor made you comfortable. It’s endearing to see his nervousness right on his graphic-T sleeve as opposed to being ‘manly’ and aloof.

It’s so, so refreshing to hear someone say, “I’m having a great time,” “I don’t want the night to end,” and know deep down in your bones that they mean “spending this time with you has made me happy” instead of “I’ve done enough to get laid now, right?”

Unsurprisingly, it does mean Jake’s done enough to get laid.

You give him your address so he could park his Jeep outside your building. There are parking meters, but tomorrow is Sunday when they’re free. No big deal. You left the bar (which was after the restaurant, which was after the coffee shop) a minute or two before in order to meet him at one of the open spots and walk him in. He can’t meet you at your door because there is a locked gate to your courtyard, and then a keypad for your building, and then about three corridors to navigate. It’s just easier to show him the way.

You can hear that fucking car coming a mile away.

Jake smiles and waves as he parallel parks—with extreme precision, you note—then hops out, gesturing to the meter questioningly.

“Don’t worry about it,” you shrug, jumping to the edge of the curb before he steps up so you can use the height for a kiss on his cheek.

It’s adorable how flustered he gets at just that tiny bit of affection. Though it’s dark, it’s obvious he blushes ferociously, rubbing at the back of his cropped, short hair, racing to gather his thoughts.

“Did you know there are almost three hundred ways to make change for a dollar? Two hundred ninety-three to be ex—woah—“

You grab his hand to lead him inside.

At the gate, you have to pause for the magnetic lock.

“I’m surprised those things even take change anymore,” Jake muses quietly, courteous for the neighbors’ sake, “because physical money only makes up 8% today’s currency…in the whole world.” He slides past the thick steel grating. “Thank you, digital banking.”

He follows behind you in the maze of concrete paths to the next entry.

“People leave like half a million dollars worth of loose change at airport security. That’s a little shocking,” he whispers when you motion for him to take a left, “think you’d splurge for some decent toilet paper with that kind of dough, or maybe some more cup holders in those row-seats? They could, I don’t know, offset the cost of making pennies. Shit cost two cents. Is worth one. Wild…

“Meanwhile, a dime has 118 ridges on the rim of the smallest circumference.”

Doesn’t even matter what he’s saying, the more his plump pink lips move, the more insanely turned on you get. You have to crowd him through your own doorway before you start stripping in the middle of the hall.

You peel your blouse off the instant your keys clatter onto the dinette table. You spin around to grab him by the screen-printed emblem of his t-shirt.

“There are 1.4 billion $2 bills in circulation.”

He gives a little oof sound when his back hits one of your bedroom walls, and there’s a barely audible whimper as your hands snake up under soft, well-worn fabric.

Holy shit, is this boy cut!

Your thumbs actually catch on the deep ridge of his Adonis belt. Dimes got nothing on you, Jake Jensen…

His breathing has changed significantly. “Did you know they—“ he gasps and swallows “—still make those?”

Ok, why is it hotter when he’s not even trying?

“Fun fact: if you went to Zimbabwe, guess which currency you’d…use?” The neckline of his shirt has to pop over his glasses before he fixes them. “The U.S. Dollar. Seriously! Same damn mon—EH.”

His belt buckle is tricky to navigate from this angle and in the very low light of your bedside lamp. You give up on his pants to unzip your skirt at the hip and let it fall.

Jake stands perfectly still with his hands half-raised.

“You’re…really fucking pretty—sorry—really pret—sexy, not that I—but beautiful. You’re really—”

He sucks in a breath as you step within inches of him again, reaching up to carefully pull his glasses over his ears and place them by the lamp.

“Fuck…”

Your index finger tucks into the elastic of his boxers where they peek out above the belt.

“Yeah, so I’ve been—I’m—I don’t have a—what I’m trying to say is—“ he squeezes his eyes shut and wiggles his fingers higher in the air, searching for the right thought “—the most commonly printed bill is actually the one-hundr—“

“Jake,” you interrupt, gently smoothing your hands over his thick shoulders. He is so ripped, what the hell? You guess there are nerds and then there are nerds, wow…

“Do you want to continue?”

He nods super fast, eyes growing wide in panic.

“Good.”

You smash your lips to his, hauling him down and you up by the sturdy tower of muscle he is.

“Condoms are in the drawer,” you mutter between breaths.

He lets out a high, choked whine before clamping his huge, warm hands to your waist, melting into you and your touch.

You coax the both of you toward the bed, swatting at his belt as a signal for him to help, and he does, though he’s not the greatest multitasker. He huffs and smirks, breaking the kiss so he can unlatch, unbutton, and unzip.

Then he looks up at you. 

“So you like movies…?”

You cup his jaw in your hand and pinch, a gentle peck on his lips as encouragement to focus. “Less talking, more fucking, Jensen.”

He opens his mouth, clearly running through a series of replies, but thinks better of it and  pushes down his pants and boxers all at once.

Lloyd Hansen and a kiss on a place of insecurity ⬅️ ➡️ Steve Rogers and a kiss on a scar

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @spectre-posts @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @peyton--warren Y'all getting sick of me yet???

#jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen x y/n #jake jensen smut #jake jensen fluff #ro answers #valentine's day fanfic #valentine's day prompts

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

BET!

141 x reader w an oral fixation (you/your pronouns, mild self injury -nail and lip biting)

It started out simple. Everyone knew about your habits. Biting your nails, peeling dried skin off your lips, chewing the end of pencils. You usually don't notice when it's happening, much to the mild annoyance of those around you.

Once, while trying to focus on a crossword puzzle, you bit down so hard on your pen that blue ink sprayed all over the place. Soap still hasn't let you live that one down.

Kyle, ever the sweetheart, always seems to have lip balm on hand. Vaseline as a preemptive measure and to soothe any cuts.

You've tried everything to curb the habit. Minty gum, hard candies, ect. But it never works for long.

It's actually Simon who decides enough is enough when you bite your lip so hard it bleeds.

Carefully, he takes a tissue and dabs at the blood. You like to think he doesn't notice the way your heart beats faster and your skin heats up when his touch lingers a second longer than expected, thumb brushing your lips.

He totally noticed. He mutters something under his breath about "keeping your mouth busy" before letting his thumb slip into your mouth. Luckily, the weight of his thumb pressing gently on your tongue is the cure to your problem.

Everyone helps you in their own way. Johnny thinks it's great fun when you sink your teeth into his skin, nibbling on the muscle. Just be prepared to get bit right back.

You have free reign to tug Ghost's gloves off whenever you want. Within reason. He takes the nonverbal cue to let you suck on his digits in stride.

Price doesn't complain when you mouth at his bulge while he does paperwork. Even as drool falls from your eager lips, saturating the fabric.

Once you even fell asleep nestled between Kyle's legs, keeping him warm with your mouth.

Once all four of your boys get the memo that the easiest way to help you relax is giving you something to suck on, you never have to worry about biting your nails raw again. There's always a cock for you to suck on. By the time one is pulling away, another takes its place.

-🔪

👀👀👀👀

KNIFE

MY BELOVED

ME NEXT

ME NEXT

#asks #🔪 anon #cod smut #my anons are so talented

[afreakingdork]

Crush Too Much - Part 7

RotTMNT Donatello x GN!Reader

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Embarrassment, Overbearing Siblings, Aged-up Turtles

Synopsis:  So you met a customer three times at work and that made a pretty big impression on you? That’s nothing to necessarily get worked up over, but when you’re all prepared to ask for his number the next time you see him and his brother gets involved instead, you might be in for something more than you bargained for.

FIRST 💜 PREVIOUS

“This would happen in New Jersey!” Donnie griped from underneath the van.

The street it had broken down on was desolate so you sat beside him on the road leaning against the large rear all-terrain tires. “How did you get your driver’s license?”

“Like anyone else.” He responded in time with the soft clicking of something being tightened.

“It’s hard to picture you standing in line at the DMV.”

“Oh, you meant legally?” Though you couldn’t see him you could tell he was joking. Kicking your leg out, you tapped your shoe against his ankle. “Ow. Oh. Oh no. I have been mortally wounded. Now you’re stuck in this tragic place.” His dry wit brought a lazy smile to your face.

You leaned your head back against the rubber and looked up at the sky. “We’re not gonna make it.”

“Time.”

You pulled out your phone. “Almost 8.”

“A surprising lack of faith from the individual that asked acquaintance to trust them before dragging them to arguably one of the most seedy restaurant fronts in the city.”

Staring at the lock screen photo of the two of you from your rooftop rendezvous, heat pooled in your cheeks. You wouldn’t have asked just any acquaintance to do that. The eventualities had been on the fringes of your thoughts since your meeting with Leo. For now you’d change the subject. “Tell me more about the van.” You shuffled your legs into a straight line and clicked your sneakers together. On the quiet road, you could just hear your aglets clatter against one another.

Donnie slid out from under the vehicle and posed on his side in a French girl manner. “I acknowledge that by changing the subject you are avoiding an admission of guilt, but hoo boy!!” He shouted and jumped to his feet. “I’ll take any opportunity to talk about the Dream Van!”

He held out a hand to help you to your feet and you took it. As soon as you were righted, he released you in favor of hugging the car. You tried to curb your smile by biting your lip.

“I spotted her like a glittering jewel in the desert of Repo Mantis’ scrap yard!” He ran a hand along the side door. “Still mostly intact, though obviously broken down, she called to me in a sweet language only I can hear.” 

You were so glad you were already chewing on your bottom lip. “Purple?”

He stopped and shot you a scandalized glare.

The distant streetlight just barely illuminated the pearlescent paint job in said shade. “You mentioned restoring the original color when I complimented her earlier.” Tipping to one side you let your shoulder bump up against the vehicle.

“Hey!” Donnie pried himself off the van to shoo you away. “Insult the Dream Van and you don’t get to touch the Dream Van.”

Maybe it was the relaxed boredom, but you just wanted to press his buttons a little more tonight. You took a step back, hands raised in defeat. He gave a curt nod and just as he was about to return to his explanation, you reached out a single digit toward the van.

“Don’t…” He warned, throwing up a challenging finger of his own.

As soon as your pointer made contact with the cold steel, you were both off. You kept a hand to the vehicle as your rounded the rear. Donnie forwent the obvious straight chase line and lept straight over the van, cutting you off on the other side. His smug smile turned to dismay as the worn tread on your sneakers skidded on an unknown sidewalk puddle. The two of your unceremoniously collided. You waited for gravity to take over, but the world didn’t seemed to rotate around you. Blinking you looked up to find Donnie had reflexively caught you and was staring at your with a self-satisfied smirk.

“I’m starting to get the feeling that you don’t actually want to hear about the van.”

From your current proximity, you had a clear shot of the just barely marred shred of sadness in his otherwise deadpan gaze. “No, I do!”

He raised a single brow in question.

“I-“ You started and sighed, your eyes cast down from your delinquency. “It’s just we’ve been here for about an hour and I’m no help when it comes to this.” You nodded a head toward the vehicle and Donnie blew a relaxed puff of air out his nose.

“’Idle hands.’” He shook his head. “I have 3 brothers or did the prospect of an exciting night of science distract you from that?”

“You’re used to it.” You shook your head, parsing out his meaning. “I would say I’m a normal amount of excited for LSC After Dark.”

“It’s true.” Donnie tipped his head to the side with mild dismay. “If the Gilder Center had an afterhours event, that would be better suited to my tastes.”

“Are you telling me the science speakeasy and dance floor with a touch of science aren’t your speed?” You put on your best puppy dog eyes knowing full well Donnie had shot down the third Thursday party transformation at the Liberty City Science Center over text.

“Maybe if it actually had a modicum to do with science.” He rolled his eyes, but a thought seemed to strike him. “A techno rave where the beats per minute were set in a way to mimic heart rate.”

“Oh, it could be a five senses sort of thing!” You brightened, catching wind of his idea.

“A full body experience manipulation of one’s faculties.” You watched as he seemed to already be creating a mental map. “The ultimate implementation of jams!”

“Club owner has now been added to Donnie’s to-do list.”

“As if it already wasn’t.” His brows wiggled in a way that said he thought of everything. You smiled cheekily and felt a hum in his chest as his brain switched gears. That exact sound made you realize that he was still holding you. You cursed yourself for not taking the proper time to appreciate the moment. On the other hand, it was jarring that it’d felt so natural you hadn’t noticed it was happening at all. “Most of tonight’s events are placating stunts for masses that’d like to portray themselves as having scientific prowess. I’m more interested in gaining access to the planetarium and picking the brain of tonight’s Space Talk speaker.”

“Which we will miss if you don’t get the van running again.” Any hesitation you had about shifting his attention was immediately eclipsed by the guilt of causing him to miss the events he'd listed. He’d been willing to come all the way out to New Jersey to attend and that said more than enough about his excitement.

“Yes, of course.” He released you and brought a hand to his chin as he rounded the vehicle to gain access to the hood. “I regret having not installed a monitoring system!”

“Why didn’t you?” You followed him at a much slower pace.

He shot you a quick look that said you didn’t need to bother before scouring the engine.

You deserved that. “I wasn’t lying. I did want to know more about the van.”

He made a sound of wry sound of uncertainty, but spoke anyway. “It took many hours of negotiation, but I got the van and fixed her up.” He leaned back and you watched him disappear around the passenger side. “The Turtle Tank is my true baby, but her and Shell Cycles are more team oriented vehicles.” The back door slid open and you watched Donnie through the driver side window as he climbed in. “This is for my own personal use only. As such I retrofitted the interior with a miniature lab, but I left the exterior and major components street legal.”

“The dash certainly has a spaceship vibe.” You mused, turning your window attention to said lights and knobs.

“Mostly street legal.” He corrected himself and disappeared into the very back of the van. “I would have needed to rehaul the suspension to add a monitoring system!” He raised his voice to compensate for his distance. “The frame is basically just flat steel so the weight of the tech would have overtaxed the current build!”

“But because it’s an older car it was able to survive being junked to get into your hands, right?”

“Absolutely.” The vehicle shook as Donnie shuffled back out the door and rounded to the engine once more. “As Michael described it, I trend toward the ‘shiny and new,’ but there is a slew of merits to certain older technology. The first of which, in our current case, is there’s only so many things that can be wrong…”

You nodded, having not quite followed all the checks he had done so far.

Planting one hand on either side of the engine block, Donnie huffed. “The battery isn’t dead because the lights work, I tightened the terminals so those are fine, no sign that the alternator is bad, it turns over so ignition and starter work, and no sounds indicate timing belt or distributor…” He trailed off, clicking his tongue.

“So what’s left…?”

“That’s just it.” He lifted and smacked his hands down in frustration. “With my own two hands, I put every single part in this beautiful creature. I know where they’ve all been and where they all go-"

You watched as his face froze up. You blinked rapidly, making sure your vision was still good. Everything else seemed to be fine; it was just Donnie that had gone statuesque. “Uh…” You moved to his side. “Donnie? Earth to Donnie?” He was unresponsive so you waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello?” You were just about to touch him when his left eye twitched.

“That…”

“Wha-?”

“AbsolUTE IGNORAMUS!!!!” He roared back to life and you stumbled backward. Your heel caught the sidewalk and you sputtered to keep from falling. Donnie moved in an instant, snatching both of your wrists. You would have thanked him, but the look on his face said he had not done it for you safety. “Vacuum cleaner.”

“Vacuum cleaner?” You probably looked as pale as you felt.

“I was intensely focused on building the engine block!” Releasing you, Donnie whipped around and all but flung himself back into the van. The car bounced comically until he emerged with a small tool in his hand and dove straight into the engine. “Mikey had just finished his first whittling project and Raphael offered to vacuum up the saw dust.”

“Uh huh…?” You stared, mouth slightly agape. You had no idea what he was talking about, but you could hear something pop and the sound of a little trickle of liquid.

“It’s delicate work!” Donnie growled, pieces moving out of your view. “It takes a lot of focus!!”

“You rebuilt an engine from scratch…” You could only affirm what you knew for sure.

“They know how focused I can get! Which is why-" Donnie emerged with a small cylinder in his hand. “-when I was asked if the vacuum’s new filter had come in, I just brushed it off. Anyone of them is more than capable of opening packages!” He growled and held the cylinder out for you to see. As he jostled it the top popped off. “It’s not supposed to do that!” He hissed.

“What is-?”

“I had to special order some parts because of their age.” He reached down and grasped the lid of the object. “One such item was a fuel filter.”

“Which is…” You brought a feeble finger up. “That?”

“The filter that goes into the vacuum is cylindrical also.” He pulled the top off and blackened gunk clung to the ridges of the filter inside. “But why…?” Donnie dropped to his knees and held the object out in front of him in dismay. “Why did Raph think you had to saw through metal to get to a filter?! Why did he presumably put it in the vacuum, use said vacuum, then take it BACK OUT, PUT IT BACK INTO THE METAL CASING, AND INTO THE BOX FROM WHENST IT CAME?!”

You stared in twisted awe. You had never seen Donnie both this mad or this distraught before. “P-probably because it didn’t work…?”

“It didn’t…” Donnie’s voice had dropped down low along with his head. You leaned in slight. “OF COURSE IT DIDN’T WORK, IT’S FOR A CAR!!!” He screamed at you while snapping to his feet.

Now under the direct fire of the fury, you froze.

The fear must have translated to your face because Donnie dropped out of the snarl and you watched his eyes dart around your features. He pulled back and closed a hand around the filter. “I apologize. I’m not mad at you… I just…” He hung his head and went silent.

Still coming off the frightened adrenaline rush, you shifted your shoulders. “It’s… ok…”

“No, it’s not.”

“Donnie…” Tightened restraints wrapped around your heart as you realized he was distraught in a different way now.

“I’ll order you a ride home.” With his free hand, he unearthed his phone from his hoodie’s pocket.

“Wait!” It wasn’t just your mouth for once. Your whole body moved before your mind could process it. You leapt forward and covered his phone with your hands.

“It’s probably better for you to go home. I’ll wait here with the Dream Van until an auto shop opens up and get the part.”

You might have let him get away with it if had he moved even a muscle. Instead, he continued to keep his head down, staring at your hands. “Worries was one of the things we promised to discuss, remember?”

He was quiet, but gave a single tight nod.

“You were really excited for tonight.”

Another nod.

“Do you want to ship me off and let it end like this?” You wished so badly that he would look at you,

“It’s already 9, we really weren’t ever going to make it.”

“What did you say before?” You put force down on the phone. Like a pulley system, as his hands went down and his head lifted up. “Changing subjects was admitting guilt?”

“Incorrect.” His gaze was guarded.

“Ok, I didn’t get the exact words you used…”

“No.” He shook his head. “Incorrect as in I was not admitting guilt. I don’t want the night to end like this.”

“So, you just want to ship me off?” You didn’t mean for it to sound bitter, but maybe it was just the inherent content of the sentence.

“Absolutely not!” You were taken back by his sudden sternness. “I just…” He turned his head away. “I find it hard to look at you right now because when I do I’m reminded of the face you made earlier.”

You weren’t sure what to say.

“I snapped at you and you were scared of me.” You could feel the slightest tremble of his hands through the phone. “Your easy going temperament means you’re quick to forgive, but the same can't be said about me.”

“I don’t know if I would call myself easy-going…” The notion seemed ridiculous given your ever present anxieties.

 “You put up with me.” He turned and gave you a serious glance. His tone dripped with scornful sarcasm.

“Is that what you think?” You pushed his phone down all the way and stepped right into his personal space so he was forced to look at you. “I love spending time with you. Our banter, discussions, even when you just come in to pick up your weekly pizza order! Did any of that seem like I was just dealingwith your existence?”

It was a logic query that you knew he had no chance of rationalizing himself out of.

It took several moments, but the creases in his brow softened. “Emotions tend to be a grey area for me. When I feel them, I am often swept and bested.”

You tilted your head. That was familiar. “You must be joking.”

He was taken aback, but before he could protest, you continued.

“Yes, this time you got too heated, but this whole situation is beyond frustrating!” You swung your arms in a wide gesture. “It’s a very normal reaction.” He was so close you could see your reflection in his eyes. “I have never once thought of you as emotionless. You’re not heartless; you just struggle with articulating your emotions sometimes.”

He stared down at you with such intensity that you thought you might wilt under his gaze alone. Just as the speed of your heart rate was reaching critical levels, he took a step back and centered himself deep breath.  “Since, and you won’t hear me often admit this because it almost never happens, but I am not in my right mind. What do you propose we do now?”

You cleared your throat to get ahold of your own emotions before looking at him ruefully. “We make the guys, specifically Raph, pick us and the Dream Van up. When we’re on our way home, explaining what happened, you should show him the part without letting on that you know what happened.”

You watched as some life was breathed back into the otherwise limp hero. “Make him stew?” Donnie craned an eyebrow up in tentative curiosity.

“Just this once I thought I’d take inspiration from someone.” You rolled on the balls of your feet while giving him occasional side eyes.

“Finally.” He rounded the van and closed the open door. You were about to follow when he hopped on top of the vehicle and looked down at you. “I was wondering when I’d rub off on you.”

You smiled up at him and he offered his hand. Curious, you took it and squeaked in surprise as he hoisted you up onto the van with him. “Is it ok to be on top of your second baby?”

“She’s reinforced.” He noted and collapsed back onto the roof. He then held his phone above his head and appeared to be typing something out.

You folded your legs up against you body and rested your chin on your knees. You listened to the soft pattering of fingers on a phone screen until there was a thump against the roof. You turned to find Donnie had let his arm collapse, phone in hand one hand and the fuel filter in the other.

“Our target will be here in T-minus 24 minutes.” He reported with his eyes drifting shut.

“When you say it like that I don’t know how long I’ll be able to play the part.” You chuckled lightly, your lids feeling a similar tug.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine.” A long swath of silence stretched out between you before Donnie broke it with a barely legible, “Thank you.”

In case that was some kind of sleepy comment not meant for your ears, you responded with a soft hum of affirmation. You thought he might have fallen asleep when another sentence slipped from him.

“This is just like when Jupiter Jim became stranded on Sectron…”

That name sounded vaguely familiar. “Jupiter Jim.” You whispered carefully. “Is that like a movie character?” You had truly meant it as a wonder for yourself.

“Yeah, you know.” He folded his phone hand over his chest. “Marcus Moncrief?”

“Huh, never seen it.”

Donnie snapped upright so fast the whole van shook.

“Par-DON!?”

-

You didn’t think you had ever been this tired in your whole life. The final scenes of the movie swam across your face. You tried to keep your eyes focused as Lou Jitsu tore his way through a sea of bad guys. Every time you lost focus, the image would start to blur. You squinted as suddenly the action stopped. You allowed yourself to blink for what felt like the first time in several minutes. When you opened them a snappy one-liner was quipped and then a big ‘The End’ card appeared. Sleep drunk, the room darkened as the only light source scrolled with credits.

“Did…” You own voice sounded foreign. “Did we do it?”

“Every-” Donnie’s speech seemed as affected as yours. You could hear him lick his lips, but it seemed like too much energy to turn and look at him. “Single Jupiter Jim and Lou Jitsu movie has been consumed. Congratulations. You are now caught up.”

“Hurray.” You couldn’t muster any emotion to the word. After his discovery the night of the failed museum trip, Donnie had been hyperfocused on getting you caught up on ‘all the good cinema you had missed.’ He was very lucky in several regards. The first was that it was now summer so your schedule had freed up. The second was you no longer had any summer classes to attend to with your internship on its way and, finally, that said internship did not start until the beginning of the next month. Based on Donnie incessant pestering though, you wouldn’t have lasted more than a week without succumbing to the movie marathon. In fact, you’d made it exactly three days and only had to trade one shift to squeeze the event in.

As if on cue, both of you collapsed back into the couch at the same time. When had you even started leaning forward? With only back support now squared away and lethally low energy in the tank, you body threatened to fall further. You were trying to calculate if you would hit your head on the armrest if you fell to the right when Donnie’s hand shuffled between you to unearth his phone. The simple movement bumped your shoulders and your body gave into the motion. With a soft thump, the side of your head gently plopped right onto his shoulder. You weren’t sure if it was pure exhaustion, but he didn’t seem to notice. From your new view, you could see he was now holding his phone in hand, tilted so both of you could see it. Staring at the dark screen, his thumb seemed to move in slow motion as he activated the device. It read the time and date against a glowing purple motherboard background.

“That’s…” You stared. It took so much effort to speak. “How long…?” You hoped and hoped that he understood.

“31 hours, 32 minutes, and 47 seconds…” He didn’t unlock his phone and you both watched as it went back to sleep.

“I… will never move… again…” You whined softly.

“When…” He trailed off and took a deep breath. “When do you normally go to sleep?”

That seemed like an odd question, but you couldn’t think of what a normal one would even be. “Around 2am?”

“Then we need to stay awake for 27 more minutes.”

“You’re joking!” It was so surprising that it gave you just enough energy to boost your voice.

“No.” You could see his reflection in the darkened phone screen and his face was the definition of neutral. “It’ll keep your sleep schedule on track.”

“How…?” You wanted to ask how you would stay awake, but the rest of the sentence was lost.

“I can’t... explain…” You watched his reflection close its eyes in defeat. You felt bad for mirror Donnie until it sunk in what he had said. You had to try harder, for his sake.

“No…” You shifted your head enough to just bump his. “How will we stay up… that long?”

“Oh.” His reflection’s mouth formed a perfect circle. His thumb moved again and the screen illuminated once more. He unlocked his phone and opened an internet window. It then sat there, static, with only suggested articles at the bottom.

“Donnie?” You wondered and his head flopped over atop yours.

“Thinking.” He responded weekly, his thumb hovering over the screen.

If you had a shred of your mind left, you would have screamed at your current contact. Instead you were left as a husk with no inhibitions. “I don’t think I can… make it home…”

“Sleep here.” If he meant literally right where you were on the couch, that sounded like everything good and perfect in this world. When you’d first arrived at the lair at 5pm the previous day, you’d been blown away by the short tour. His family had dropped in throughout the marathon in stages, but for the last 2 movies only you and Donnie remained.

“You say sleep…” Why were you wasting energy on this? “I say how high.” That didn’t even make sense.

“Dumb.” He responded, finally typing something into the search bar. Your eyes lost focus again. When it returned you were staring at a news feed.

“Nooo…” You whined. That was going to put you more to sleep.

“Don’t complain.” His voice was somehow flatter than usual. “You have 11 minutes and 17 seconds on me.”

“What… are you talking about?” You couldn’t see his reflection anymore in the bright screen.

“You micronapped during Punch Chowder.” He thumbed over the screen, scrolling.

“I did?” You wondered how he knew to the very second how long you were out.

“One fight sequence missed.” Another line of articles floated by.

“Did I miss… a lot?”

He shook his head and you could feel the motion as if he was settling down further into your hair. “We’ll discuss… later.”

“Many movie discuss…” You nodded also. You were really starting to lose touch with reality now that you had nothing to focus on.

“Pick one.”

“An article?” That seemed like so much work.

“16 minutes left.”

Was that an answer to your question? How had both so much and so little time passed?

With the phone balanced on Donnie’s right thigh, you managed to drag your left hand out from where it was squished between both your legs and plop it next to the device. Your index finger wobbled as you pointed at the screen and managed to flick through a few articles. A pretty picture of a starry sky caught your attention. “That one.” You pointed at the photograph while simultaneously opening the article.

“There’s a meteor shower next week…” Donnie paraphrased the headline. He then took back control of the phone and scrolled over the blur of text.

You swore an entirely different Donatello had talked about a planetarium.

“Wanna go?”

“Mm.” It was more of a hum, but it sounded like a confirmation. “Together?”

That was more concrete. “Yeah.”

“Ok.” He gave another nod and you were sure your hair was going to look like a nest. “New telescope…” There was just the tiniest dash of excitement to that. He was too cute. You wished you were more awake so you could enjoy how sleepy he was.

“It’s a date.”

His thumb stopped, but it was also at the end of the article. You watched as he moved to the back button, but hovered over it instead of clicking. Why was he hesitating?

“It’s a date.” He finally spoke after what had seemed like hours had passed.

“Think we’ll remember?” You could barely remember the last thing you said. There was a nagging feeling it was important.

Donnie made another inconspicuous noise and closed the internet browser. He then thumbed over to a calendar that was packed with dozens of multicolored notes. You had no energy to marvel at his efficiencies as he opened up a specific day next week and added a new event.

‘Meteor Shower Date’

You watched him thumb quickly through several reminders, but your eyes refused to focus enough to tell you when they were set. He closed the window and the home screen picture of both of you was marred by a atomic clock.

“Three minutes.”

“Can’t we cheat it?”

“No.” 

You both fell asleep with one minute remaining.

NEXT

A/N: What's the Dream Van you ask? It's a Donatello-themed Hot Wheels Toy I saw! The XGW is technically not a real car, except it is now.

So there’s like 8 Lou Jitsu movies named in Rise and in "Repo Mantis" Donnie says there’s 60 sequels to “Jupiter Jim’s Last Trip to the Moon” alone, but man there’s like only 40 Godzilla movies so… I used the number for when I did my own marathon which was watching every single episode of Ed, Edd, and Eddy in a row to the premiere of Big Picture Show so like… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#crushtoomuchfic #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #cartoons #fanfiction #my fanfiction #me

[malhare]

I'm going to be kept busy helping my mother while she is recovering and I've been meaning to cut back on social media anyhow because it exacerbates my paranoia and I've been using it as a dopamine crutch more and more lately. I'm not leaving, I'll just be less active here. I also won't be posting about politics at all anymore since this account is now connected to my irl name and I do community organizing and activism in the real world, which I do not want to jeopardize. It isn't that I don't care, just that I've found that mainlining the tap of human misery just burns me out and I can do so much more good if I just focus on the small things I already do to help my community.

My queue will keep running as long as it has posts in it, and I'll still likely log in here at least once a day (especially with all this waiting around in the hospital), but my eventual goal is to curb my cellphone addiction so I have deleted the app from my phone.

If you'd like to remain in quick contact with me, here is my Discord. I have a few "digital penpals" I write to semi-regularly, or we could just send each other daily memes or whatever. Love you all <3

#malhare.txt

[jenyifer]

Nick and Keith Haring

I’m missing Nick and Boston extra hard today. First Saturday without BostonNick. So I want to talk about Nick first today. Many times in the show Nick is seen wearing Keith Haring’s art and I believe it has meaning beyond looking great on him.

Keith Haring was an American artist from New York he believed art was for everyone. A lot of his art was murals etc because in his own words

He was diagnosed with AIDS in 1989 and passed away in 1990. He was a advocate for AIDS research. Today his foundation is dedicated to helping people with HIV/AIDS. He talked about how life was fleeting anyways but art was forever

Nick wore Keith Harings art as shorts multiple times and socks at the end of the show with the colors inverted. I find it interesting both Nick and Sand’s inspirations passed away due to AIDS. Freddy Mercury and Keith Haring were geniuses who’s lives were cut tragically short. I can’t help but think about how Keith Haring was an artist in New York making art accessible to everyone by doing beautiful graffiti because “Art is for everyone”. Possibly… a reference to Boston leaving and his dream to have a gallery in New York of normal things of people in bed. Saying possibly Nick will always support his favorite gay New York based artist even if they are separated by time and space.

Another interpretation is in all 3 scenes where we see Nick wearing the art Nick is talking about himself a very rare occurrence since he likes to talk about boston. The first dark room scene he tells Boston about his past. The second in Sand’s room giving him advice that sounds very familiar. The final the skate date where Nick is telling Boston he doesn’t like skating and he can’t keep up with Boston. It could be Keith Haring is one of Nick’s favorite artists because Nick is also an artist. He’s a digital artist really a dream of the future. Anyone can be a digital artist with a little money. Now art is seen everywhere at any time similar to Keith’s graffiti it was everywhere and for the people. Perhaps that’s what Nick wants with his art too. To spread his messages and ideas with digital animation.

Anyways I hope you guys find it interesting as well I’m going to go back to wallowing in sadness that we don’t know if Nick ever seriously dated anyone ever again. Also that we don’t know in the series if Sand didn’t kick him to the curb after Boston left. Why wasn’t Nick in the last scene? He helped with the hostel. More than sand anyways. But where was he. My poor baby.

#only friends the series #ofts #only friends #only friends nick #only friends Boston #ofts nick #ofts Boston #bostonnick #ofts meta #only friends meta #jenny’s rambling #nickboston #boston x nick

[freewillacquired]

In a world ravaged by a virus that primarily creates monsters, nasty encounters are in no short supply. When Rain begins to hear heavy footfalls—when she feels them practically shaking the ground beneath her, she figures she's about to have another.

Cursing under her breath, she unholsters her gun.

The days were blending together in depressing ways now. Nemesis was shocked at how quickly things had gone to hell after the Hive and Raccoon City Incidents. It had taken him quite a while to regenerate after the city's "sanitation," but once he was on his feet again, he realized the gravity of what was happening to the world.

Alone and with nothing left to do in his current mutated state, Nemesis had taken to showing up at Umbrella facilities unannounced, and destroying as much of them as he could. The digital feed supplied by the retinal implant attached to his right eye and sewn up into his head gave him a lot of useful information, especially after his mind was liberated from Umbrella's control. May as well put it to good use, right?

He'd acquired more clothes and equipment this way, with the boots and leather trenchcoat-style getup being standard issues for a creature called a Tyrant, which he apparently now was. They seemed just about the only things that were going to fit his... unique body shape nowadays.

Learning about himself and destroying Umbrella assets were good pastimes, but Nemesis was extremely lonely. The few survivors he came across now and then either screamed and ran from him or shot at him. Bullet wounds were nothing more than annoying mosquito bites to him now, thanks to his thick hide, but even so... it was demoralizing. All he wanted to do was help. He was almost getting used to being alone all the time, by necessity rather than desire, until that unexpectedly changed. While exploring a city one day, he rounded a corner and-

"Raaaain!" Nemesis bellowed the moment he saw her, unable to contain his excitement upon seeing her. "Oh... ny god!" He couldn't believe his eyes. Well, eye. He still had two, but one was... indisposed. In a move that probably looked damn near ridiculous to the other, he lifted his hand... and waved to her. "I'n so glad... to see you! How... are you... alithe... right now?" he tried to ask, his massive chompers getting in the way, as usual.

Nemesis couldn't get his voice to be anything other than a monotone growl, and with monstrous teeth and a noticeable lack of lips, his speech was something of a garbled mess. It took him a while, but he'd learned to make certain sounds in other ways, using his throat and tongue. Essentially, he'd had to relearn how to speak. Some sounds and words, though, were lost forever. None of that did anything to curb his enthusiasm at seeing Rain alive, however. Was he finally losing his mind? Hallucinating, maybe? No, the target identification system is identifying her as Rain... Right now, Nemesis didn't care either way. Just the sight of her was one for sore eyes, since his last clear memory of her was being at death's door.

"I thought... the anti-thirus... didn't work...?" he said, his elation at seeing her alive completely overriding his common sense. Nemesis wasn't thinking about the fact that Rain wouldn't recognize him anymore, or about how negatively she would likely react to seeing the hulking beast before her. Not to mention his tentacles, rooted at the backs of his shoulders, which were excitedly coiling and undulating in their own right, reacting to his surprise and happiness. He batted one of them with his hand. "Cut it out...!" he admonished the obnoxious appendage. It recoiled temporarily before returning to its idle activities.

Then it dawned on him, especially with how she had her gun at the ready. Oh no... she has no idea who I am. "It's Natt," he said, laying his hand on his chest. "Natt... Ad-di-son." How pathetic is it that I can't even say my own name correctly anymore? he thought grimly.

#wanderingaroundwithmysoul #muse: nemesis #{hello new person! ^_^} #{i'm only on this blog on wednesdays} #{but nemmy didn't want to wait to at least get this started XD} #{also this got long... you don't have to match length!}

[perpetualspinach]

How long will you survive?

silly concept i came up with while out for a walk today. i would love to turn this isnt a simple browser-based game one day, if i have the time.

[ID: a sketchy, digital drawing with text annotations. Handwritten letters read “Hostile Environment: The game” at the top. The game involves: the best powerchair you could afford (plus one pissed off disabled passenger) versus: bad parking, people not paying attention, shit pavements, ridiculously steep driveways, poorly placed wheelie bins, and no curb cuts. Each obstacle/ “enemy” is shown as text with an associated quick sketch representation, and the powerchair/ “player” is shown as a folding powerchair. end ID]

#hope the ID is good. its a very weird drawing to describe haha #disability #cripplepunk #actually disabled #disabled art #physical disability #powerchair #powerchair user

[greymoonfeelings]

How about “I thought that you said that you’d passed your test.” “No, I said I could drive, I never said how well.” with Eddie Munson? 💖

Thanks Vee!! Idk how good this is but I had fun writing it. This is for all the homie who drive like animals but still managed to get their license 🍻

Bad Driver

Pairing: Eddie Munson x GN!reader

word count: 745

summary: Eddie experiences your driving for the first time.

warnings: none! (except way too many commas)

drabble below cut

Eddie had heard stories about your time learning how to drive. How you once drove into a brick wall when you’d zoned out behind the wheel and the estimated number of curbs you’d run over hitting double digits. That’s why when his van ended up in the shop and you had offered to take over his job of driving the two of you to school, he was wary, to say the least.

However, you had convinced him after swearing that those incidents had occurred during your early days and that you passed your driver’s test, so how bad could you be? After all, Eddie himself had never experienced your driving so it wasn’t fair of him to judge from a few stories.

His agreement caused you to cheer on the other end of the phone, promising to be at his trailer at 7 to pick him up. You were excited to return the favor after a year of him driving you to and from school every day.

The next morning you greet Eddie with a kiss when he climbs into your mother’s Subaru and force him to put on his seatbelt for safety.

The drive starts smoothly, you focus on the road and only tap your fingers against the steering wheel to Eddie’s music rather than giving a full performance like you normally would, but then you start telling him about your weekend and blow through a stop sign while distracted.

No biggie, Eddie thinks, there was no one at the intersection anyways.

He decides to take over the conversation so you could direct all your attention to the road in front of you. He passes the time by explaining the new storyline he had come up with for his D&D group as you continue through Hawkins.

The car approaches a four-way intersection with lights at the town square. The light hanging on your side flashes yellow as you speed towards it. Eddie expects you to stop and wait your turn, but instead, you press down harder on the gas pedal.

He prepares to make the sign of the cross and pray to God to spare his life, something he’d never dreamed of doing before as the traffic light changes to red, but you continue to speed through the intersection, causing at least one car to honk at you.

“Ah, fuck off.” You wave casually as if you didn’t almost cause a car crash.

“Maybe you should slow down, babe. You’re hauling precious cargo.”

“Eds, I’ve seen you go 50 in a 35.”

“I was trying to get you home in time for the Grease showing.” He defends.

“And I'm trying to get us to school on time so you can actually graduate.”

All you had to do was turn into the school parking lot and then he would have safely arrived in one piece, but at the speed you were going, Eddie could see this going wrong.

Eddie desperately clutches the handle above his window, bracing himself as you take a sharp left turn sending the two of you, as well as all the loose items in the car, flying sideways. You also manage to partially run over the curb.

You laugh nervously and mutter, “I hope no one saw that.”

By the time pull into a parking space, narrowly missing someone’s brand-new corvette, Eddie is prepared to make the sign of the cross and pray to God to spare his life.

When you finally put the car in park and take the keys out of the ignition, Eddie breathes a sigh of relief.

“Fuck, I’ve never felt that close to death in my life.”

He boyfriend slumps against his seat, clutching his chest to try and steady his racing heart.

“I thought you said you passed your test!”

“No, I said I could drive, I never said how well.” You clarify while gathering the supplies that had fallen out of your backpack due to your erratic driving.

“Oh come on! Was I really that bad?”

“Yes.”

Eddie cups your shocked face, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips.

“Baby, there are so many things that you’re good at, but driving isn’t one of them.”

“You’re lucky I’m in love with you, Munson.”

“And I love you, but I am never getting in a car with you behind the wheel again.”

“Fine, but if anything happens to my Mom’s car while you’re driving it we’re dead.”

“Babe, we’d be dead if you’re the one driving it.”

#heather writes #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson x gn!reader

[aceofstars16]

Extra Fingers

Before I finished rewriting Trapped in the Past, I perused some old Gravity Falls fics that I wrote but never posted.

This is one of those fics! Though it's part of an AU, so I'll give a little backstory for y'all so it makes more sense haha

Half a Home is an AU that I created with @mandaloriandragontrainer back when we both first got into Gravity Falls. The basis is that Mabel and Dipper are separated at birth and Dipper is raised by Ford after his dad and grandparents die (it's a lot of angst, but also cute fluff, as in the case of this fic)

I also made some more notes about the AU/fic on the AO3 post, but you can read the fic below as well.

Ford frowned as he looked at the equation in front of him. Something was wrong with it, but he didn’t quite know what. Tapping his pen against his lip, he hummed to himself, only to laugh a little as he heard the hum mimicked a second later by the three-year-old in his lap. 

“What do you think, Dipper?” Ford lowered the paper in front of his great nephew, whose frown looked scarily like his own.

“Too many…” Dipper said quietly, and Ford chuckled lightly and ruffled the boy’s hair.

“Yes, I suppose this may be a little too complex for you at the moment…” 

With an arm wrapped around Dipper to keep him from falling off of his lap, Ford turned his attention back to the equation. That is until he felt tiny fingers touching each of his fingers, only to stop for a few seconds, then start again. 

Glancing down at Dipper, Ford saw the boy’s eyes furrowed in concentration as he touched each of Ford’s fingers again, only to stop and touch each of his own small fingers in turn. 

“Six…five…Uncle Ford…did…did I lose a finger?”

A very unflattering laugh broke out from Ford's mouth before he could stop himself, shaking his head as Dipper continued to look in confusion between his fingers and Ford.

Trying to curb his amusement, Ford shook his head again. “No, Dipper, you didn’t lose a finger. I just…happen to have an extra one.” As he spoke, he wiggled his fingers and Dipper looked on with big eyes. 

For a moment, there was silence as Dipper looked at Ford’s hands and then his own. 

Then, “I want another finger…”

Biting his lip to keep from laughing again, Ford took Dipper’s small hand in his. “Trust me, Dipper, you have all the fingers you need. And almost anyone else you meet will have five fingers too. Besides-" Ford cut himself off before he could continue. Dipper didn’t need to know that his extra digit had caused its fair share of pain and embarrassment for him. Despite being so young, Dipper had a very keen sense of emotion, especially when it came to any time Ford mentioned his past. 

“I still want another one…” Dipper said, looking at his hand as if by staring at it he could make another finger appear, which resulted in Ford chuckling more.

“Well I’m afraid I can’t do much about that…but I think it’s about time we take a break and go outside. What do you say?”

A grin broke out on Dipper’s face and he nodded quickly.

Matching his great nephew’s smile, Ford moved his arm and Dipper shot to the ground, racing to the back door. 

“Wait for me!” Ford called, not even trying to hold back a laugh. It was crazy to think that it had almost been a year since Dipper had come into his life. He had to admit, there were still days when he wondered if he was doing the right thing. Academic knowledge wasn’t exactly in the same field as raising a kid. But every time he felt in over his head, Dipper would grin, or laugh, or look at Ford with the biggest eyes and the fear eased. It had been so long since he'd had family that actually cared about him for more than just his brains and accomplishments, not since… Shaking his head, Ford pushed the thought away. He couldn’t think about his brother. Because if he did, he would fall into a hole that was nearly impossible to get out of…but as he watched Dipper rushing towards the tree line, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, one person might be able to help him out of that hole. 

#half a home au #gravity falls au #gravity falls #dipper pines #ford pines #stanford pines #gravity falls fanfiction #aceo writes things #half a home

[newstfionline]

Friday, December 15, 2023

Few US adults would be satisfied with a possible Biden-Trump rematch in 2024, AP-NORC poll shows (AP) It’s the presidential election no one is really jazzed about. Relatively few Americans are excited about a potential rematch of the 2020 election between President Joe Biden and Donald Trump, although more Republicans would be satisfied to have Trump as their nominee than Democrats would be with Biden as their standard-bearer, according to a new poll from The Associated Press-NORC Center for Public Affairs Research. “Probably the best way to put it is, I find it sad for our country that that’s our best choices,” said Randy Johnson, 64, from Monett, Missouri. Johnson, who is a Republican, said he wishes there were a third legitimate option for president but that the political system does not make that viable and added: “We’re down to the lesser of two evils.”

House votes to formalize Biden impeachment inquiry (CNN) The U.S. House of Representatives has voted to formalize its impeachment inquiry into President Joe Biden. Lawmakers voted along party lines to back a resolution that Republicans say will give them more power to gather evidence and enforce legal demands. Three Republican-led House committees allege bribery and corruption during Biden's time as vice-president.

Prisoners Sue Alabama, Calling Prison Labor System a ‘Form of Slavery’ (NYT) A group of current and former prisoners sued Alabama on Tuesday, saying that the state’s system of prison labor is a “modern-day form of slavery” that forces them to work, often for little or no money, for the benefit of government agencies and private businesses. In the lawsuit, the 10 plaintiffs, who are all Black, say the state regularly denies incarcerated people parole so that they can be “leased” out to produce hundreds of millions of dollars in profits for local and state agencies and businesses every year. According to the lawsuit, the system effectively resurrects Alabama’s notorious practice of “convict leasing,” in which Black laborers, from 1875 until 1928, were forced to work for private companies, who in turn paid substantial fees to state and county governments. Since 2018, about 575 companies and more than 100 public agencies in Alabama have used incarcerated people as landscapers, janitors, drivers, metal fabricators and fast-food workers, the lawsuit states, reaping an annual benefit of $450 million.

YouTube tops teens’ social-media diet, with roughly a sixth using it almost constantly (AP) Teen usage of social media hasn’t dropped much, despite rising concerns about its effects on the mental health of adolescents, a survey from the Pew Research Institute found. But the data also found that roughly one in six teens describe their use of two platforms—YouTube and TikTok—as “almost constant.” Seventy-one percent of teens said they visit YouTube at least daily; 16% described their usage as “almost constant” according to the survey. A slightly larger group—17%—said they used TikTok almost constantly. Those figures for Snapchat and Instagram came in at 14% and 8% respectively.

Anxiety and resignation in Argentina after Milei’s economic shock measures (AP) Julia González wonders how she will afford the three bus rides and train trip to her job in downtown Buenos Aires. Lucía Pergolesi regrets her best friend has been fired from her job in a government ministry. Hilario Laffite admits he will have to increase prices in the shop where he works. These are some of the faces of anxiety that Argentines are dealing with after President Javier Milei’s administration announced economic shock measures aimed at tackling the country severe crisis, including a sharp devaluation of the peso by 50%, cuts to subsidies and the closure of some ministries. Milei himself has warned people that these steps will cause some pain, but he insists they are needed to curb triple-digit inflation and have sustainable economic growth in the future.

As Russia Gains Confidence, a New Urgency Grips Ukraine (NYT) Ukraine faces dwindling reserves of ammunition, personnel and Western support. The counteroffensive it launched six months ago has failed. Moscow, once awash in recriminations over a disastrous invasion, is celebrating its capacity to sustain a drawn-out war. The war in Ukraine has reached a critical moment, as months of brutal fighting have left Moscow more confident and Kyiv unsure of its prospects. The dynamic was palpable last week, as Vladimir V. Putin announced plans to run for six more years as president of Russia. He declared that Ukraine had no future, given its reliance on external help. That air of self-assurance contrasted with the sense of urgency in this week’s trip to Washington by President Volodymyr Zelensky of Ukraine, who pressed Congress to pass a stalled spending bill that includes $50 billion more in security aid for Ukraine.

The E.U. agreed to discuss membership with Ukraine (Foreign Policy) European Union leaders gathered in Brussels on Thursday agreed to open talks on Ukraine’s EU membership bid. Opening accession talks has long been one of Kyiv’s top priorities, especially as it prepares for another harsh winter of fighting against Russia. Although Ukraine’s accession to the EU is realistically still many years away, the decision to begin talks represents a major step forward and a big win for Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky.

Japan Wants a Stronger Military. Can It Find Enough Troops? (NYT) After 75 years of peace, Japan is facing immense challenges in its rush to build a more formidable military. To understand why, consider the Noshiro, a newly commissioned navy frigate equipped with anti-ship missiles and submarine-tracking sonar. The vessel was designed with an understaffed force in mind: It can function with about two-thirds of the crew needed to operate a predecessor model. Right now, it puts out to sea with even fewer sailors than that. On the ship’s bridge, tasks that previously occupied seven or eight crew members have been consolidated into using three or four. The ship’s nurse doubles as dishwasher and cook. Extra sprinklers were installed to compensate for the smaller staff onboard to fight fires at sea. The slimmed-down crew on the Noshiro nods to the stark demographic reality in Japan as it confronts its gravest security threats in decades from China’s increasingly provocative military actions and North Korea’s growing nuclear arsenal. As the population rapidly ages and shrinks—nearly a third of Japanese people are over 65, and births fell to a record low last year—experts worry that the military simply won’t be able to staff traditional fleets and squadrons.

Torrential rains in Gaza bring flooding and disease to displaced population (Washington Post) Heavy rains pummeled southern Gaza on Wednesday, bringing mud, flooding and in some cases disease to the thousands of displaced Palestinians living in makeshift tents in this corner of the besieged enclave. “We didn’t get our winter clothes from Gaza City when we left more than a month ago,” Ramzi Mohammed, 31, told The Washington Post in a phone call. Mohammed is staying in Rafah with his wife and three children. “The only thing we do during the night, we cuddle each other to warm up,” he said. Roughly 1.9 million people in Gaza—or 90 percent of the territory’s population, per United Nations data—have been displaced. Many now live in tents draped with whatever blankets or clothes they can find. “Blankets are not available in the market to buy,” Mohammed said. “But [even] when it’s available, I can’t afford the price.”

Images of stripped and humiliated Palestinians draw condemnation (Washington Post) The images of the Palestinian men, stripped to their underwear, forced to kneel, some bound, some blindfolded in the custody of Israeli soldiers, were certain to provoke extreme emotions. As photos and video spread on X, Facebook and other platforms last week, they were picked up by Israeli media. “Images circulate of dozens of Hamas terrorists surrendering in Gaza,” the Jerusalem Post trumpeted in a typical headline. Israel’s military, which censors the Israeli media, did not object to the characterization or prevent the images’ spread. Many in Israel viewed the images as evidence of victory over the militants who rampaged through Israeli communities on Oct. 7, killing 1,200 people. Or righteous vengeance. Quickly, though, claims that the detainees were Hamas militants were challenged. Palestinians in Gaza identified relatives who they said were not fighters. Some of them were released. The images, rights activists say, began to convey something different, and darker: an attempt to humiliate and dehumanize Palestinians. This week, the United States, Israel’s closest ally, called the images “deeply disturbing.” Now they are an enduring cause for rage among Palestinians and anger in the region. For some, they stir echoes of the tableaus of torture that emerged during the Iraq War from the U.S.-run detention center at Abu Ghraib prison.

Support for Hamas grows among Palestinians in West Bank (BBC) Since the war in Gaza began, Israel’s military operations in the occupied West Bank have become more frequent, and more forceful. Here in the West Bank, 271 Palestinians, including 69 children, have been killed since the attacks—more than half the total number for the year. Almost all of them have been killed by Israeli forces, according to the United Nations. An opinion poll carried out between 22 November and 2 December by a respected Palestinian think-tank, the Palestinian Center for Policy and Survey Research (PSR), found that support for Hamas had more than tripled in the West Bank compared to three months ago. Supporters of Hamas were still in a minority, but 70% of the respondents said armed struggle was the best means of ending the Israeli occupation. By contrast, support for President Abbas had dropped sharply following the Hamas attacks, the survey found, with more than 90% of Palestinians in the West Bank calling for his resignation. Raed Debiy, a political scientist and youth leader for the West Bank’s ruling party, Fatah, said the attacks were “a turning point” for Palestinians, just as they were a shocking turning point for Israelis. “The people, especially the new generation, are backing Hamas now, more than at any other moment,” he told me. Even his 11-year-old nephew, he said, had little respect for Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas, but idolises Hamas military spokesman Abu Obeida “because he protects us”.

The World’s Poorest Countries Buckle Under $3.5 Trillion in Debt (Bloomberg) At Manhattan’s luxe Pierre hotel on a late September morning, Adebayo Olawale Edun, the finance minister of Nigeria, tried to soothe the jitters of Wall Street bankers, pledging that his country would cut spending and collect more in taxes to make the crushing debt payments owed to foreign investors. But new documents show that Nigeria’s 2022 debt payments, the equivalent of $7.5 billion, surpassed its revenue by $900 million. In other words, it had been borrowing more just to keep paying what it already owed. A debt crisis is brewing across the developing world as a decade of borrowing catches up with the world’s poorest countries. In 2024 these nations, known to rich-world investors as “frontier markets,” will have to repay about $200 billion in bonds and other loans. The bonds issued by Bolivia, Ethiopia, Tunisia and a dozen other countries are either already in default or are trading at levels that suggest investors are bracing for them to miss payments.

#headlines #news

[bluepoodle7]

#CerealMascot #JohnDoeGame #Househuntedgame #CerealFlavors #MyQuestion

I wonder if John Doe and the other Realtors were cereal mascots. What flavor would be their cereals and what would be their catchphrase?

Housing Crisis Crunch would be a guess for the Realtors.

John Doe's Molar Munch and it's like crunchy sweet cereal similar to Honey Smacks and Golden crisp but shaped like teeth and is vanilla.

Still trying to figure out what Housing Crisis Crunch will taste like.

My guess is cookies and cream or smores maybe a mix of both.

Maybe rocky road flavored.

The cereal box is plastic while also house shaped that keeps the cereal inside.

You have to open the door of the cereal box to get the cereal out.

I got the commercial for the Housing Crisis Crunch Cereal.

Like it starts out as those kids cereal commercial where a Realtor is chasing a buyer road runner style then a voice appears like a narrator and says "Are you tired of the buyer rat race?"

Then the Realtor says "Yeah my lure is body aching me something fierce and I'm hungry."

Then narrator would say "Try Housing Crisis Crunch and you will be lured in by the flavor."

Then the Realtor eats by the mouth of the lure body but then the camera cuts to a Realtor eating it the natural way by the floor.

The Realtor says "This almost helped me curb my human craving." "Almost.." And stares down the camera with a hungry look.

Then it cuts to the Realtor successfully catching the buyer and eating them then the camera distorts.

Then the commercial ends with mini mystery Realtor figures that connects the plastic lure cord to the plastic house shaped cereal box.

The common one is the #1 Realtor and the rarer ones are the more obscure ones.

It's like the cereal commercial company was taking pictures of all the Realtors in the valley to make merch of them without them knowing and getting full profit.

I image the house shaped cereal boxes to be similar to the Puppets cereal that Disney had mixed with a dollhouse.

And the Littlest Pet Shop Digital Pets Electronic Toys.

----------------

The cereal opens from the house doors once the metallic foil cereal bag is opened.

Speaking of foil, who remembers corn pops in that foil bag? : r/nostalgia (reddit.com)

What it sounds like inside the commercial building.

Music not mine but link is there.

Thomas Clausen - Bio Rhythm No. 6 - YouTube

------------------------------

I was thinking about the Work District part of the Uncanny Valley and that the commercial and tv show half are like surveillance and keep up with everyone.

Kind of like ad companies trying to be hip and make memes to sell you stuff while taking information to use for later.

Themed Realtor's

----------

I wonder if there is a vampire realtor that is a gothic house body.

Do they still do the vampire rules when entering buildings or house?

@d4ff0d1l14 helped.

Images not mine but links are there.

Kellogg's Bigg Mixx cereal commercial (1990) - YouTube

Littlest Pet Shop Digital Pets Iguana Electronic Toy Hasbro Toys - ToyWiz

KAWASONY Best Quality Double Doll House With Furniture For Kids - Best Quality Double Doll House With Furniture For Kids . Buy Doll house toys in India. shop for KAWASONY products in India. | Flipkart.com

Disney’s Forgotten “Puppets Cereal” Commercial | (cartoonresearch.com)

#Cereal Mascot #JohnDoeGame #Househuntedgame #Cereal Flavors #My Question

[mariacallous]

The green transformation can be a depressing business. We know we need it, we know how to do it, and life fueled by renewable energy could be extremely attractive. There’s just the issue of the metals needed in vast quantities to make the whole thing work. As virtually every digital-gadget user knows by now, China processes by far the largest share of those metals—which means it can cut other countries off from them.

Enter Norway, where a mining company says it has just discovered an extraordinarily large phosphate reserve that could meet the world’s needs for the next half-century. Let’s just hope it pans out.

China’s already started to flex its muscles over its control of critical materials. This month, Chinese authorities introduced export restrictions on two metals used in semiconductor manufacturing, gallium and germanium, allegedly to “safeguard national security” in response to the barrage of U.S. restrictions on the Chinese semiconductor sector. It was an ominous sign. China conducts more rare-earth mining than all other countries combined (63 percent), and it carries out 85 percent of the processing. Not only has it spent years building up its mining and processing; it has also been building remarkable strategic reserves of the metals, which are crucial to the manufacturing of digital life (no smartphones, digital cameras, hard drives, or monitors without rare earths), lighting, and the green economy (without rare earths, no transition to electric vehicles, also known as EVs, or wind power).

Though gallium and germanium aren’t rare-earth metals, they’re similarly critical to digital life, and the export curbs were clearly meant as a warning to other countries that if they annoyed Beijing, they could be cut off from the technologies of the future.

But what are countries to do now that they’ve painstakingly built digital lives and embarked on their green transformations in the belief that globalization would, as it has for decades, efficiently provide the components needed? Though the United States is trying to expand its rare-earth mining and processing (perhaps unsurprisingly, China is thought to have been part of a NIMBY campaign against a rare-earth processing plant in Texas), it’s slow going.

That’s because the known rare-earth deposits outside China are comparatively small. China’s reserves are twice as large as those of Vietnam, the world’s no. 2. Russia and Brazil, tied at no. 3, possess reserves just a bit smaller than those of Vietnam, but after that there’s a big gap. Knowing that China could cut us off at any moment makes the green transition dangerously vulnerable to the harsh winds of geopolitics.

The beginning of this year delivered further troubling news, when three Chinese firms signed a $1 billion deal with Bolivia’s state-owned YLB to explore Bolivia’s lithium reserves, the world’s largest. (Lithium is indispensable in modern batteries, including those for smartphones and EVs.) Last month, YLB signed further lithium agreements, worth $1.4 billion, this time with a Chinese firm and a division of Russia’s Rosatom, for lithium exploration and extraction. The deals follow a 2019 agreement for $2.3 billion between Bolivia and China’s Xinjiang TBEA Group.

Leave it to Norway, which has achieved extraordinary wealth thanks to the discovery of enormous oil deposits under its North Sea waters in the late 1960s, to deliver rare good news for mineral resources. Last month, Norge Mining—a British-Norwegian company—announced that it had finished its exploration of phosphate, another crucial component in devices including batteries and solar panels. And, ta-da!, Norge Mining had found that the Norwegian mineralized, igneous phosphate rock contains enough phosphate to keep the world going for another 50 years. The numbers involved are enormous. The Norwegian deposit contains an estimated 70 billion tons of phosphate, nearly as much as the world’s heretofore documented reserves of 71 billion tons. Morocco has the next-biggest reserves, at 50 billion tonnes

Phosphate’s main use isn’t as glamorous as rare earth’s role in the digital world, but it’s equally critical. It’s mostly used as a key part of modern food chains by way of fertilizer—but while used in smaller quantities in digital devices and EV batteries, phosphate is a crucial component there, too.

Until the Norwegian discovery, the available phosphate reserves were dwindling. The discovery will change that, and in the nick of time. “We believe the phosphorous that we can produce will be important to the West—it provides autonomy,” Norge Mining co-founder and deputy CEO Michael Wurmser told the news website Euractiv. Now the West needs the Norwegian public to do its part, because like rare-earth mining and processing, phosphate mining is dirty, and it also emits considerable amounts of CO2. Wurmser told news media that Norge Mining will be using modern carbon-capture technology—but Norwegians (and the Norwegian government) still need to go along with the mining plans.

“Continental Europe is rich in many strategically important raw materials, and the large raw material deposit in Norway is a stroke of luck for Europe,” Matthias Wachter, head of the Department for International Cooperation, Security Policy, Raw Materials, and Space at the Federation of German Industries, told me. “It has the potential to significantly reduce Europe’s import dependence on autocratic regimes, especially China. However, it will be many years before extraction can actually begin.” And a geologist at Oslo University’s Natural History Museum similarly downplayed expectations on the find. Experts have known about the reserves for some time, Professor Axel Müller told Courthouse News Service, adding that the problem is the extraction – the part Norge Mining wants to pursue. “We are talking in the far future, and the processing technique is complicated and energy intense,’ he said. ‘You have to separate minerals from each other by crushing the rock. Then you have to apply different processing technologies such as magnetics, flotation, and possible acid treatment to get a phosphate concentrate out.”

A lot is riding on Norge Mining, a company founded by Wurmser less than five years ago. According to Wurmser’s LinkedIn profile, this is his first position in the mining sector, other than a position in another mining company led by Wurmser, which has a minimal footprint but which, when I reached out to Norge Mining, they told me “advised globally on mining projects and commodity resources.” Norge Mining’s website lists as its staff only Wurmser, a CEO, a CFO, an advisor (who also runs a small consultancy), and an executive assistant. The European Raw Materials Alliance has said that it would support Norge Mining’s undertaking, but the organization is a public-private industry alliance, not a financial outfit.

Norge Mining certainly has big ambitions. It’s is also exploring Norway’s reserves of vanadium and titanium—metals used in everything from aircraft and submarines to laptops. Today, China produces by far the most titanium in the world, followed by Mozambique, South Africa, Australia, and Senegal. The United States, in 10th, produces 200 tons per year, compared to China’s 3,400. In the production of vanadium, China’s dominance is even stronger. Last year, it produced some 70,000 tons, followed by Russia at 17,000, South Africa, and Brazil. (If the BRICS nations were to stage a vanadium boycott of the West, we’d be in trouble.)

Norge Mining might end up being the company that solves the world’s phosphate shortage and tackles China’s domination of vanadium and titanium. But Western economies would be wise to make a few more bets. There are deposits to be found of not just phosphate but vanadium, titanium, and all manner of rare-earth metals as well. The Canadian firm NPM is upgrading it rare-earth processing facility in Estonia (supported by funding from the Estonian government).

And, Wachter said, European governments should do more to help get the continent’s rare-earth metals and other critical resources out of the ground: “We need a regulatory framework that supports resource extraction, incentivizes private investment, and massively accelerates permitting.”

The biggest news might, in fact, come from Sweden, where the mining giant LKAB is already painstakingly drilling its way toward the enormous rare-earth and phosphorus Per Geijer deposit in the Kiruna mine in Sweden’s far north. It’s already clear that the Per Geijer deposit is Europe’s largest. Digital life and green transformation without dependence on China are within reach—especially if consumers and companies get serious about doing their part and begin recycling far more gadgets.

[bangtanbraps]

Panda Express (JINMIN sickfic)

//TW!! *Pro-ship (JinMin) *18+ sexual themes *Bloating *Male masturbation *Eprocto *Desperation *MILD scat If you think anything else should be listed as a warning, please let me know! Enjoy.

***

The pair had been driving for hours, alternating the driver every few hours when one needed a break. It was a long drive down to the set location for their new television show ‘In The Soop’, but, luckily, Jimin loved long drives with his best friend Jin – they often had lots of fun gossiping and singing along to music. They had to be recorded the entire way there through a small GoPro suctioned to the windshield, but the staff had become used to editing out hours of banter between the two singers that would be too inappropriate for ARMY to hear.

Jimin looked at the car’s digital display. 12:53. Upon seeing the numbers, a sonorous grumble erupted from the younger’s stomach. Jin stifled a chuckle.

“Hungry much?” He quipped. Jimin laughed.

“Yeah. Starving. Are there any service stations nearby?”

“There should be. Could you check your phone?”

“Sure.”

He opened the maps app and searched for service stations in the area.

“Ah, yeah. There’s one five minutes away. Do you think the others’ll be hungry? Should I radio them?”

“Uhm. They might be. But why don’t we go in there on our own?” Jin took his dongsaeng’s hand into his own and interlocked their fingers. “If we go with the others, the camera crew will be forced to stop too, and we’ll be recorded the whole time. How about we have a private meal together, just us?”

Jimin couldn’t help but blush and bite his lip at his hyung’s touch. It was almost embarrassing to him that something as simple as holding hands with his boyfriend could melt him instantly.

“Sure. We can.”

*

Jin parked the car while Jimin stood in line for Panda Express. The older man soon joined him, nonchalantly taking Jimin’s hand in his own once again. He let out a huff of air.

“It’s nice to just be us for once. You know. Without the cameras and all.”

“Yeah… I like holding your hand Jinnie….” Jimin looked down to hide his embarrassed little smile. Jin placed a finger under Jimin’s chin and lifted his head to look him in the eyes.

“And I like holding your hand, Minnie.” Jin winked, oozing charisma as always. Jimin rolled his eyes playfully, though he was unable to curb his grin.

After ordering a banquet’s worth of food – and eating and chatting for about an hour – the pair were ready to hit the road again. Jin made sure to send Jimin to the bathroom before they set off; he was almost certain that this was the last service station for a long while.

*

“Don't smile on me; light on me~ Neoege dagaseol su eopseunikka~ Naegen bulleojul ireumi eopseoooooooooooo!”

“You know that I can't~ Show you me, give you me~ Chorahan moseub boyeojul sun eopseo~ Tto gamyeoneul sseugo neol mannareo gaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

“BUT I STILL WANT YOUUUUUUUUUUUU~!”

Both of them erupted into laughter as they toyed around, impersonating the other members of the group – namely Namjoon and his infamous shower ‘singing’. Jin took the following line, with it being his own and all.

“Oeroumui jeongwone pin~ Neoreul dal- agh….” He cut mid-line.

Jimin chuckled. “Voice crack~?” Jin shook his head.

“Mmmm… no… just a stomach cramp that took me by surprise.”

Jimin’s smirk was reduced to a concerned frown.

“Are you alright, Jinnie? Are you gonna throw up? Do we need to pull over?”

“No. I’m fine. Just a silly pain.” He sighed exaggeratedly, “I’m getting older! Oh! Woe is me, Jimin!”

The act seemed to relieve some of Jimin’s worry. He laughed.

“Oh, stop it; you’re not old. You are dramatic, though.”

“Me?! Dramatic?! You must have me confused with someone else~. I have been called many things in my lifetime, but dramatic is not one- ugh-!” Jin faltered again, one hand leaving the wheel to rest on his stomach.

“Jin..?”

“I’m- Fine. Just another random cramp.”

“Jin… we can pull over-”

“No.” The hyung interrupted, “We’re already an hour behind the rest of the crew. We can’t afford to stop now.”

Jin’s stomach let out a growl, not much unlike Jimin’s from a few hours earlier… only this growl was different—slightly more ‘gurgling’ in nature and most definitely NOT from an empty stomach. Jin mumbled something under his breath that sounded like a mixture between a groan and an expletive.

“Are you sure you don’t want to pull over, hyung-”

“Does it look like there’s anywhere to pull over?!” Seokjin snapped. Immediately, he followed with an “I’m sorry, Minnie. I didn’t mean to shout. I’m just-… My stomach hurts a little.”

“I can tell…” Jimin placed a hand on Jin’s thigh, rubbing it reassuringly. “I’ll look to see if there’s a service station nearby. And I'll take the wheel as soon as we can pull over. You’ve been driving too long.”

Jin sighed, defeated. “I don’t think there are any service stations for a while. I checked at the last one. I suppose I was so busy making sure you used the bathroom that I didn’t remember to go myself.”

“Shit.”

“Language. … In fact. Turn the camera off. I don’t even want the staff seeing me like this.”

“I’m sure they’d edit it out-”

“I’m sure they would, Jimin, but I don’t even want them to go through it. We can turn it back on once my stomach ache has passed.”

Jimin nodded and reached for the GoPro, yanking it off the windshield and fiddling with it to find the power button. The little box bleeped, and the red recording light went dark.

“Done. It’s off. Feel better?”

“I’m certainly more relaxed. Fuck-. Minnie, I know this is odd, but could you please unbutton my jeans? I think my stomach needs a little more room to breathe.”

Jimin’s heart skipped a few beats until he recalled how to breathe. His face flushed pink, and his gaze slipped to the bulge of his boyfriend’s bloated belly. He gulped, hopefully inaudibly. Jin noticed the younger’s sudden change in demeanour and guffawed in reaction.

“Oh, Minnie, come on, it’s not like that~. Unless you- Uh-. Want it to be.”

Park Jimin could not believe his luck. They had been dating for nearly two years – of course, he had told Jin about his… ‘unique’ interests. Jin had been refreshingly supportive, unlike past partners who had looked down on him or laughed. That being said, Jin did state that it wasn’t something he would be interested in exploring for the foreseeable future, given the foul nature of the kink.

Because of this, Jimin left that door closed and never brought it up again. Jin had thrown a few jabs his way concerning it, but other than that, it had been left untouched. Until now. This is the first time Seokjin had ever expressed any non-joking opinion surrounding engaging in… it.

“We don’t have to.” Jimin hurried, “It’s fine. You’re uncomfortable and sick. I’ll- uh- I’ll undo your jeans for you, though.”

Jimin fumbled his fingers around Jin’s zipper, hissing a ‘sorry’ as he clumsily grazed his crotch. As soon as the zipper was undone, Jin’s bloated stomach spilt out with a relieved sigh. Jimin wished his zipper was undone. His pants were getting a little tight. Of course, Jin wasn’t fat by any means – but a buffet of service station food was enough to make anyone a little larger, idols included.

“Hhh… thank you, Minnie. And uhm-. Sorry. If this is-. Uhm. Awkward for- for you.”

Jimin’s stomach lurched. “No. It’s fine. Really. You’re just sick. It’s not like that. I’m not perverted or anything.”

Jin chuckled, slightly more relaxed at his lover’s words, “Oh, you’re not? Are you sure you’re Park Jimin?”

Jimin didn’t respond, opting to pick at his fingers instead.

*

Time stood still. It was as if the clock never changed and the sun never moved. The only way Jimin could measure the passage of time was by the intensity of the thunder that, ever more frequently, rolled inside Seokjin’s stomach: accompanied by a worsening grimace.

There had been no service stations or lay-bys, and time was taking its toll on the man’s insides. Time also took a toll on Jimin; his crotch was engulfed in the familiar heat of lust. Jin’s mind had become cloudy with desperation. He felt as though he was going to burst, and his temper was flaring. He cursed, smacking a hand on the steering wheel.

“Ugh! Why have over an hour of fucking motorway with absolutely fucking NOTHING! What if someone got into a fucking ACCIDENT? Someone could fucking DIE! This is RIDICULOUS!”

“I know, right?” Jimin echoed, attempting to ease Seokjin’s frustrations, “This is crazy.”

“If I could just piss, the pressure would go down. That’s ALL I’m FUCKING asking for! Just to FUCKING piss, and MAYBE I could make it to the set.”

Jimin rocked his feet anxiously; he didn’t like it when Jin got mad. He wasn’t violent or scary, but, having a short temper himself, he was all too acquainted with the fire that rises in one’s chest and how uncomfortable that burn can feel. A hollow jangle clacked against Jimin’s shoe. He looked down at the empty water bottles in the foot well. He swore he could hear a ‘ding!’ as his brain connected the dots and formed an idea.

“Uh. Jin. If you really think pissing would help, there are some empty bottles down here.”

Jin groaned.

“You know, normally I’d call you revolting – but, desperate times and all. Pass one over here.”

Jimin gulped once again as he kicked up one of the plastic bottles, unscrewing the cap for Jin before handing it to him.

Jin struggled to free himself from his boxers while holding the bottle and the car steady. He cursed and snarled as he grappled at his jeans, eventually dropping the bottle into his own foot well.

“FUCK. THIS IS RIDICULOUS!”

“I can help if you want. It’s gotta be hard to do fifty things at once while- uh. You have to go.”

“Fuck. Yes. Please. God, Minnie, please.”

The begging nearly tipped Jimin over the edge. He clenched his thighs to contain his ‘excitement’.

Jimin reached down, picked up another bottle, and set it between his legs as he reached over to unclothe his boyfriend’s manhood. Seokjin coughed awkwardly, willing himself to remain flaccid while Jimin touched him to avoid another issue.

Jimin took the bottle, uncapped it, took the lip and put it against Jin’s tip: ensuring he had aligned the hole with the opening and created a tight seal between the two.

“Oh-” His voice cracked. He coughed and gulped. “Sorry. Er- Okay. You should be good to go now, Jin.”

Jin did not have to be told twice. A stream of golden fluid gushed into the bottle as an exasperated sigh seeped from the host’s lips.

“Ffffffffffuck…” Seokjin exhaled. “Thank you- Oh, God-….”

Jimin’s hand grew warm as the fluid rose in the bottle. It rose dangerously high, in fact. And it was rising fast.

“Uh- Jin- I- Never mind. Just- Could you try to slow down a little?”

“Minnie, I’m mid-flow. I can’t fucking slow down.” Jin glanced at his boyfriend, then quickly returned his eyes to the road, turning pink in the cheeks.

Jimin kicked up another of the empty water bottles at his feet and swapped hands at the ochroid bottle. He brought it close to switch them when ready. His free hand picked up the empty bottle and uncapped it one-handedly.

“What are you doing?” Jin blurted.

“It’s gonna overflow. I’ll swap them.”

“You’d better not fucking spill any, or I swear to GOD.”

“I won’t. I won’t. I won’t. Trust me; I know what I’m doing. Don’t worry. Jihyun and I used to piss in bottles on road trips all the time. I’m practically a pro. Relax.”

Jin huffed, trying to remain calm and control his stream to allow Jimin some leeway for mistakes. It didn’t exactly work, but Jimin managed to swap the bottles without much help anyway.

“There. You’re good.”

Jin’s abdomen constricted as he pushed freely once again, his outflow picking up pace with another relieved sigh. Jimin twitched. If he weren’t careful, he’d have an ‘outflow’ himself.

Once the older was finished, Jimin capped both the bottles and set them down in the back seat so as not to kick them accidentally and create a mess.

“Better?”

“Fuck. Yes. Better. Miles better. It still hurts, but. Definitely better. Th-thank you.” Seokjin’s cheeks were a deep shade of rose now. Jimin didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was.

“No problem, baby. Don’t worry. You focus on the road. I’ll keep my eyes peeled for somewhere to stop.”

Jin’s stomach bellowed in discontent, earning a similarly dejected hum from its owner. The rumbling continued one after the other, continuously. To make matters worse, they hit traffic – since they were lagging behind their entourage, they had hit rush hour.

“Fucking wonderful.” Jin retorted, sitting back in his chair and pawing at his ever more-so bloated stomach.

Jimin tried to focus on other things, but ignoring the glaring reality of Jin’s predicament was hard. Amazingly, Jin laughed.

“Oh my God, Minnie. I have to shit so fucking bad.”

This earned more laughter from both of them. The situation was quite incredulous, after all.

“I mean, we have more cups.” Jimin suggested sarcastically, “You could always shit in one of these.”

“Ha! I’ve used enough containers as toilets today for the rest of my life. I’m not sure I want to add to that number.”

It was nice to see his hyung perking up a little; Jimin knew he must be in a lot of pain.

“Well, just try your best to relax. If you need to- uh- let anything out-… You know I won’t judge.”

“What are you suggesting?” Jin reclined his seat slightly, sighing, “That I shit myself?”

Jimin scoffed, “No! I meant- like- Excess gas?” He immediately reddened. Jin noticed and smirked.

“Yeah, I bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you, you little pervert~.”

Jimin’s pants tightened again; he had certainly not been expecting that. Jin noticed this as well.

“I dunno… I’m a little scared to push….” He chuckled.

A deep grumbling noise rolled out into the driver’s seat, Jin sighing in unison with the noise – attempting to hide his smirk at Jimin’s visible arousal.

“That felt good. Sorry. I know it’s gross.”

Jimin shook his head, “Jin. You know that stuff doesn’t bother me. For… obvious reasons.” Jin cocked an eyebrow at him, his smirk revealing itself.

“Oh, yeah. Right~.”

Jin groaned, rubbing his stomach. “It looks like we’re gonna be stuck in traffic for a while… You couldn’t rub my stomach for me, could you, Minnie? It reeeeally hurts….”

Gulping, Jimin nodded and reached over to help his lover. He pressed his hand gently to Jin’s abdomen and slowly began to rub clockwise, applying slight pressure at the air pockets he could feel under the surface. It gurgled in response to the touch, Jin whining along and running a hand through Jimin’s hair in thanks.

Another bubbling rip sounded from underneath Seokjin, a sigh of relief quickly following. Jimin had to close his eyes and remind himself to stay calm despite what was happening. Bubble after bubble were released from Jin’s stomach, with Jimin’s rubbing only encouraging raunchier, deeper farts. Jin moaned with each release in an attempt to egg Jimin on; he’d noticed the growing bulge in Jimin’s jeans, and his mind was racing with indecent thoughts.

The traffic started to move again, at first shunting, then moving slowly and steadily. It was seemingly too little too late, however, as Jin’s stomach ache had worsened tenfold. At this point, he was whimpering at every touch and gasping at every fart, unsure whether it would be just air escaping him. The trouble was, he couldn’t control it. Now that he’d started releasing the gas, he’d surrendered to it involuntarily. The pain was too harsh to bear without expelling excess wind, and Jimin’s skilful hands pushed in all the right places to coax it out of his puffy gut. It had started as a teasing strategy, but, at this point, the older singer couldn’t contain his lewd noises.

“Asgh- Minnie… ouch…” Jin ripped another bassy fart into the car and rolled down the windows. “I’m sorry, this fucking sucks… I have to shit so bad you have no fucking idea. I- I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to hold it until we get to the set. Are there really no service stations nearby?”

Jimin checked his phone for what was probably the tenth time, “No… I don’t think so, Jinnie….”

“Fuck… well… could you search ‘public restroom’ and see if there’s anywhere we could turn off? A café or something. A McDonalds. Anything?”

“Uh, there’s a small village at the next exit. My stupid fucking phone won’t connect; I can’t see any bathrooms. But I can see some shops. There should be bathrooms there, right?”

Jin swerved recklessly and took the car off at the next exit. His driving was becoming more erratic the longer this went on; Jimin was starting to fear for his life. Telling him to stay calm would do no good; if anything, it would make things worse. The best he could do was sit and comfort him.

“Keep an eye out for anywhere that could have a bathroom, yeah? Ugh, oh my God…” He sat directly on his ass to apply pressure and avoid releasing anything solid. Not that it would be solid – it was way past that point. Despite this, another muffled blurt rippled from under his ass.

“I can’t see anything. Fuck. Uhm. It’s late. Everywhere’s fucking closed.”

“Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on…” Jin muttered under his breath. He was getting visibly desperate now, bouncing his free leg despairingly. “Aghhhh my fucking God, my fucking God, my fucking GOD.”

Jimin picked up his jacket from the back seat and placed it on his lap, quietly unzipping his jeans and slipping his hand over his boxers, caressing himself. Jin leaned slightly forward and pushed out a short fart. It sounded dangerous. Each blast sounded riskier than the last, and Jin was painfully aware of that fact.

“Okay, we can do this. We can do this. Come on Jin, just pay attention.”

“Just a little further Jin.” Jimin reassured, “We’ll find something, just hang on okay?”

“Mmmhmmm!” Jin groaned in a mixture of agreement and pain. He farted again. “Oh my god- Shit shit shitshitshit!”

A car pulled out from a side road, despite being behind a give-way line. Jin slammed on the breaks and the horn simultaneously, leaning his head out the window to shout a deep “FUCKING GIVE WAY, ASSHOLE! THAT MEANS STOP! FUCKING GOD!”

The driver of the other car visibly whitened at the rage, sheepishly waving his hand in apology and allowing Jin to pass.

“For FUCK’S SAKE!” Jin shot a short, sharp fart into his jeans, grunting. “Agh- Fuck! I am NOT going to shit in my FUCKING company car. This is NOT happening. FUCK!”

Jimin kept an eye out for any open businesses as he pleasured himself under the privacy of his jacket. Steadying his breathing was becoming increasingly difficult the closer he edged himself to climax. Jin’s breathing was uneven too, but most certainly not in pleasure.

“Fuck, hurry UP. LIGHT. PLEASE. TURN GREEN. … THANK YOU! This is an ACTUAL joke.” He let out an exasperated sigh, “Okay. Okay. Come on. Go. I CAN’T shit myself in the car. A FEW more minutes. You can do this. Come ON. Have you seen anything, Minnie?”

Jimin jumped a little, startled. He coughed, “nO. No. I haven’t. Sorry. I’m looking, I promise.”

“I know, I know, I know. Fuck fuck FUCK. It’s okay. Phew. We can do this. Just keep trying?”

“I will.” Jimin gasped breathily, “Yeah…”

Jin glanced over at Jimin and immediately realised what he was doing.

“Minnie! Seriously?!”

Jimin retracted his hand from his pants immediately. But, once again, Jin laughed. “Oh, my God! You really DO like this stuff, huh? I didn’t think it was THIS bad!”

“S- Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Jin turned the car round the corner to double back and check the street again, “I’m glad you’re getting something good out of this, even if I’m fucking dying. It’s nice to see you… uh…” He coughed, “Turned on. By me.”

They both flushed at the same time. The moment was interrupted by another deep fart. It sounded wet.

“Shit. Fuck. NO. Not now. NO.”

“Did you-…?” Jimin started,

“NO! It was JUST GAS! Come ON, why are there NO FUCKING TOILETS?!” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel anxiously, sighing to calm himself. “I can do this. I can do this. I can. I can, I can, I can.” Another alerting wet fart. Jin yelped. “NO! No, no, no, no! I can DO this!” His stomach screamed in pain, and another deep, wet fart ensued. Jimin moaned, immediately covering his mouth and widening his eyes.

“Shit. Sorry.”

Jin chuckled nervously, “It’s fine. You keep. Uhm. Doing what you’re do-” Another close fart. “SHIT. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s. Uhm. Just a little.”

Jimin’s face flushed a deep shade of scarlet and his cock twitched in his hand. Jin wasn’t going to make it. There were no bathrooms. Jimin knew this because he had purposefully led him to an area where there weren’t any.

“I… I have a spare pair of jeans if you-…”

Grumble. Groan. Splatter.

Jin hit the breaks. Luckily the road was entirely empty.

He raised himself up slightly, leaning on the wheel, in a somewhat ditch attempt to not get it on the seat, Jimin reckoned. He slammed a hand on his ass, willing it to stop.

But it was already coming, no pushing necessary. Jin screeched as the hot liquid spattered into his pants and seeped through his jeans, creating a growing dark patch. Still half-standing, Jin swerved the car off the road – once again – and shoved his door open, throwing himself into the bushes by the silent sidewalk. Well, once his pants were off, the sidewalk was everything but silent.

A cacophony of squirts, farts and yelps rung in the area as Jin unloaded what was left in his bowels into a bush.

A white flash hit Jimin’s retinas and he finished in his hand, crying out in pleasure as his boyfriend cried out in pain.

Jin was reduced to tears as the searing liquid burned his hole upon exit. It was never ending. His favourite jeans would have to be thrown out, he had shit himself in front of his boyfriend, they were late on set and he was going to get an earful about it… and Jimin was orgasming. Surprisingly, this made him feel better. A lot better actually.

As another lurch punched his stomach, Jin caught Jimin’s eye. He purposefully rolled his eyes back and moaned as the liquid hit the floor, streaming out of him.

“Agh~! Oh, Minnie~! It hurts sooooo bad~… I have to shit so bad~…” Jin moaned, earning a moan from Jimin in return.

Jin slammed his hand onto the lamp post beside him, feigning gripping to it for support. Jimin was now turned to face him, stroking his cock openly, his eyes clouded with lust and his mouth agape.

With one look, they both knew that this would be the night they would lose their innocence to each other.

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