#he's not in denial he's just. sad :( he wants that but. that's just not how it is for them here. :( :( :( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eff4freddie · 23 hours

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Touch | Part Six

Words: 5.8k

Just as you approach something resembling contentment, this broken world will exact its toll.

Warnings: smutty smut, trauma, grief, Joel hasn't come to terms with what happened in Salt Lake, Joel is bad at feelings, but pretty good with his hands. Minors DNI.

Part Five | Series Masterlist

You were busy again, the new table earning its keep almost immediately, and the ease that you moved around your treatment room, the way that you could bend without reaching over, push with your weight rather than your wrists, meant that you could concentrate more, heal more effectively. You hadn’t realised how much the clumsiness of the old dining table had been holding you back. Every day that you used it, you wanted to find a new way to thank Joel. Maybe even sometimes, with all of your clothes on.

Except that the idea also terrified you, in a way that you were struggling to really understand. The idea of him, of being naked with him, not that you really fully had been, of kissing him even, no that you had, was enough to send an absolute riot of butterflies careening through your guts and down into your legs, into your knees. The idea of him scared you, his reputation proceeded him, and you kept thinking of how wary Maria was, how protective Ellie seemed to be, how sweetly oblivious Tommy was most of the time which you were beginning to suspect was actually a choice. You wanted to pull them all into a room and forensically map out who the fuck Joel Miller actually was. You were aware you were thinking like a crazy person. You didn’t care.

Because then when he was with you, when you fell into his orbit, looked into his eyes, there was something heavier and realer and more tangible than your stupid, flighty, squawking fears. It worried you, that he made you into a different person when he was around you. You weren’t sure what that person was capable of getting up to, left to her own devices, but you had an inkling.

You knew that you were pushing him away, pushing it all away, because it scared you, but also it felt like the only sane thing to do, had kept you alive for years and years, had meant that when you lost people it hurt less, maybe. Being busy again, and fairly invested in maintaining your denial for as long as you could manage it, you got back to your usual routine of seeing the broken and weary people of Jackson early, before the work hours, and then steadily throughout the day. It afforded you the illusion of being sociable, of contributing to the community, without having to actually be in it. Without Ray and Marla, with Maria and Tommy wrapped up in the baby, with Joel being…Joel, you had collected a long list of clients and a dwindling list of friends. It could have made you sad if you thought about it, so you didn’t, and you were too busy anyway, and how could you be lonely with all these people in your house?

Besides which, in the quiet moments you could feel the tension in people, the uneasiness woven tight into the musculature of most of the residents you now saw. Not everyone knew Marla or Jacob or the others personally, not everyone even necessarily liked them, especially not fucking Jacob, but everyone had an investment in their safe and hopefully bountiful return.

To escape it, you went for long walks along the foreshore of Jackon’s lake at the bottom of the township, until the dying light forced you back. You were there, hands in the freezing water feeling out for flat stones you could warm in hot water and press into particularly assertive muscle knots, when you heard the yelling. You were up and sprinting, the twisty and icy path underneath you occasionally threatening to boot you into the snow, and if you’d had time to think about it you have marvelled at the difference in your reaction from Joel and Ellie’s homecoming to this one. The elation you felt at their return, the relief of it, not just for you and Marla and Ray, but for Jackon. For what it meant for this community. For your community.

Trying not to knock yourself out on the way to the gate meant that you didn’t initially notice the quiet. There was a smattering of people still out despite the cold, the encroaching darkness, but they weren’t rushing forward, weren’t really helping the returned residents, were in fact milling around, some just standing in quiet observance, and it occurred to you for a second that they were like onlookers at a funeral. You pushed forward into the crowd, trying to see past unmoving shoulders, past still bodies, moving towards the sounds of horses, of panting breaths you weren’t sure belonged to whom.

And then you arrived at the front, and you had a clear view. And you realised the panting breaths were your own.

There were only two horses, and only three riders. Marla at the reigns of one, Jacob slung over the back of her saddle, slumping over at an odd angle, his head rolled back in a way that you thought would really strain his cervical spine, until you realised he was tied to the horse, had been roped around Marla’s midsection, that he was nearly as pale as the snow around you, that he was very dead. The other rider stared, unblinking, into the distance and was eventually helped down and led to the infirmary, not ever having said a word.

Marla had seen you, had watched you fight your way to the front of the crowd, had searched you out. She was shivering, a splatter of blood across her chest and under her neck, and you couldn’t tell if it was hers or if it was Jacob’s or someone else’s entirely, and in that moment staring into her eyes you knew that it didn’t matter, that it would never matter, that whatever damage it was it had already been calculated, tallied, on a ledger somewhere none of you would ever be able to balance.

You motioned to a few of the men around you, gesturing to the ropes around Marla’s middle. ‘Cut him loose,’ you said, in a voice you didn’t recognise, and reached your arms up to hold Marla’s hand. You held it, limp and contrite in yours, while Jacob’s body was freed from hers. When he was lifted away she slumped forward, her back having held his weight for god knows how long, and you caught her, pulled her down from the horse on wobbling legs, let her crumple underneath you and set her down onto the pavement. Someone pulled a blanket over her shoulders and you held her in it, gripped her hard and tight and let her shake in your arms. You looked up into the eyes of Ray, who looked like he might throw up or pass out or both, and you pulled him down with you, wrapped him around her while he cried into her hairline, and you watched as the horses were led away.

‘Did you bring anything?’ someone asked from the crowd, quiet but hopeful, and you wanted to reach up and slap them for every moronic word they had dared speak into existence, had thought to utter in this sacred space of abject loss.

Marla never answered, and you squeezed her. She twisted in your arms to look up at you, an angry purple and yellow bruise forming having formed under her eye. You turned to Ray. ‘Help me get her to mine,’ you said.

You had the fire going, and you pushed your old armchair right up to it, folding Marla into it under a sea of blankets. Ray went to get something to bring her from the mess hall, something warming but easy to chew, and you perched beside her, slid down until her knees were in your lap and she was resting her head against the wing of the chair, and you stared, together, into the fire.

‘We barely made it back,’ she whispered, her voice dry, her lips chapped and windburned. You stayed still, not wanting to shake her, not wanting to do anything that might stop her from talking. ‘Rode through, all night. I wanted to bring him back, bring them all but I could only get him.’

‘Was it raiders?’ you asked, and she shook her head.

‘Both,’ she said, and you didn’t understand. ‘Raiders that had…kept a few clickers, had them locked up, had them uhhh…weaponised.’

You shuddered. ‘Like pets?’ you asked.

‘Like torture devices,’ she simply replied. You contemplated this for a second, couldn’t imagine it, the terror of being faced with that choice: raider or runner.

‘We got within a few hours of where we thought the pharmacy was,’ she went on, her voice catching. She continued to shake, her hands tremoring underneath the blanket, and you tried to tuck her in tighter, tried to warm her up. ‘We’d gone through a valley, ended up on the other side of a glade, it would have been so beautiful in the before times. We found a farmhouse, looked abandoned. Wasn’t.’

She was jiggling her foot and you put your hand out to hold it, feeling that her socks were wet. ‘By the time we realised they were already on us, were ready, had seen us coming.’

She looked at you, tears forming in her eyes. ‘They tried to lock us in the cage with them,’ she swallowed. ‘Jacob was really brave, fought them hard, stopped them from putting us in.’

If cold had gotten into her boots she must have been freezing, was risking losing a toe. You lifted the blankets to pull at her sock, putting your hand on her bare skin to warm it.

‘But one of them, two of them maybe, they got out,’ she continued. You held the ball of her foot in your hand, rubbing your thumb over the top of her foot in what you hoped were comforting little circles.

‘I just wanted to get him back here,’ she said, just as you felt it, a raised, rough ridge on her ankle, tendrils of heat snaking up her shin. You threw the blankets back, saw the bite there, the way the ropes of twisting fungus had already started their march up to her heart. You froze, your terrified eyes snapping to her wet, sorry, scared ones.

‘Don’t let Ray do it,’ she said.

It didn’t matter that you hadn’t been there before, you knew where it was. You wrapped on the door so hard you would later discover the skin on your knuckles had split. All you could hear was the ringing in your ears, your vision narrowed down to a pinprick, the look on Marla’s face so drawn, so scared, so resolute, imprinted on the inside of your eyelids. You kept wrapping, hopping from side to side, your tears mingling with the frigid air. You called for him on his front porch, your voice high and choking on the fear, on the grief in it.

He'd wrenched the door open, having pulled his boots on but not yet done up the laces, the furrow in his brow deep, his eyes wild when he clocked you, when he checked your six.

‘Jesus, are you? What is it?’ he spluttered, and you couldn’t let him finish, had to get the words out in case they poisoned you.

‘She’s bit, Joel,’ you spat out, watching his face fall.

‘Who, Ellie?’ he asked, panic rising in his voice, and you choked out a sob, shaking your head fiercely. He grabbed you by both shoulders, bending down to look you in the eye. You shook underneath him, wanted to launch yourself into his chest and bury yourself in it.

‘Marla,’ you said, shivering so hard your jaw was barely cooperating. ‘She came back bit.’

‘Where is she?’ he asked, and you told him. You’d locked her in your treatment room. She hadn’t turned yet, and you figured there was still an hour or two, maybe. The tremors you’d thought were the cold, shock.

‘Please, Joel,’ you said, and he was already heading back into the house to grab his rifle. Tears were streaming down your face now, your knees threatening to give. ‘Please be kind about it.’

He pulled you in, off his porch and into his living room. Set you down on the rug beside the fire.

‘I’ve got you,’ he said. ‘You stay here, you stay warm. You wait for me. You don’t come lookin’, you hear me?’

You nodded, and he shook his head at you. ‘Repeat it,’ he said.

‘I won’t come looking,’ you said, quiet and desperate like a child. He nodded, then, his rifle slung over his shoulder. You took a long breath in, felt the burn of it down your chest and into your lungs. Felt the electricity crackle between the two of you, arcing from his chest to yours through the air, let it fuel you for the next part.

The three of you had just left Chicago, two or so days into your trek towards Wyoming, to maybe find something better, to maybe find more of the same. Ray and Marla were ahead of you by about four paces, you deciding to hang back to let them chat. You could hear their murmurs, Ray’s giggle high and giddy when Marla made him laugh. You could imagine the two of them strolling down a sidewalk together, one hand holding their coffees with the other hand holding each other’s. You could see the golden light of the late afternoon in the trees, backlighting them as they chatted about their work, about their friends, about what movie they wanted to see on the weekend. You could imagine them going out for dinner of an evening, Marla resting her head on Ray’s shoulder as the sun set over the water, the two of them intertwined and suburban and blissfully, delightfully bored.

You were so lost in this reverie that you hadn’t realised they were talking to you until you nearly rammed into them, and you stopped to see them smiling, warmly at you.

‘You were a million miles away,’ Marla observed, and she reached out to pinch your arm.

‘Years,’ you said. ‘I was a million years away.’

You sat with your legs folded underneath you on Joel’s floor, the fire warming your skin enough to remind you that you were alive. Your stomach ached, your chest burned, you rocked backwards and forwards and tucked your chin into your chest and sobbed, alternating between wiping your tears with the top of your shirt and just letting them fall onto the carpet.

You saw yourself as if you were floating outside your body, observed yourself get up on all fours and keen into the carpet, unleashing a wail unlike anything you’d ever heard. You thought, for a second, that this woman on the floor was unrecognisable, was barely human, scratching at the rug and trying to breathe through the sobs.

The night grew darker. The fire died down. You collapsed in on yourself, felt the last guide rope tethering you to the ground fail, and you slipped under, crouched on the floor with your forehead resting on your arms, your knees numb from the weight of pressing into the rug, your mind empty, time having stopped, the world having fallen off its axis. A small part of you observed in wonder at how much grief you could carry. A larger part, a wiser part, a part that had taken a back seat to let the banshee take the wheel for a while, knew that this was so much more than Marla. Knew that it was all of them, a ledger steeped in red.

In the darkness you became vaguely aware of footsteps, the sound of the fire being stoked, logs being added. Felt a blanket thrown over your shoulders, then warm hands on the small of your back guiding you, pulling you up and over to sit astride a warm body, a strong pair of legs. You wrapped your arms around him, clung to him like a koala to a Eucalypt, snuffled your tear-streaked face into his neck, into his shirt. He held you to him, a hand buried in your hair and cradling your skull in his palm, the other wrapped around your back, easing the fabric away and tucking under, to touch you, skin to skin. You heard whispers of words, mixed with your own sobs, your own gasps. He held you through all of it, on aching bones on the hard floor, until the crashing waves settled, until you finally washed ashore.

‘You don’t have a couch,’ you said, after a while, pulling your head up to observe the oddly sparse furniture arrangement. He snickered, leaning you back to brush the hair out of your eyes, away from your wet face.

You realised, after a moment, heat on your cheeks. ‘Oh,’ you said, simply. He gazed at you, watched you put two and two together, stood unshaken in all that he had sacrificed for you.

‘But where do you sit?’ you asked, and he nodded towards the old rocking chair he’d pulled in from the porch outside. You nodded your head, because it was perfect really, and because it made sense, and because you needed it to.

‘Is she gone?’ you asked, shifting on his lap to watch his face. He blinked slowly, nodded. You felt your face crumple, felt him tighten his hold on you. ‘Was it bad?’ you choked out, and he shook his head.

‘She was so brave,’ he said, gravelly voice just above a whisper. He reached out and cupped your face, wiped a tear away, held your gaze to him. ‘She was ready. She said when it was time.’

‘She didn’t…turn?’ you asked, clinging to his forearms now, letting him anchor you. He shook his head once more.

‘No, baby,’ he said, and you wanted to wrap yourself up in the sound of it, let it blanket you in warmth and quiet, burrow down into it and hibernate for the winter.

‘Thank you,’ you said, simply. He hummed in response, collecting a tear on his thumb and raising it to his lips, licking it clean. You gasped at the sight of it, his eyes never leaving yours, squirming on his lap, the sudden heat in your cunt catching you off guard. ‘Joel?’ you whispered, and he raised his eyebrows at you. ‘Are your legs numb?’ and he laughed then, because you had managed to surprise him, and after he caught his breath he sheepishly nodded. ‘Take me to bed, then,’ you said, climbing off him and extending a hand. You hauled him up, his knees creaking. For a moment the both of you stood, staring at each other in the light of the fire. You felt breathless with need for him, your head swimming, the sadness shifting just enough to let the heat in, the want. ‘Up the stairs,’ he told you. You slipped your hand into his paw.

Joel’s bedroom was sparse, the walnut oak bed pressed up against the wall, a stack of books on the floor beneath a bare lamp, a guitar in the corner. His scent was all over the sheets, all over the clothes strewn around the floor. You pressed yourself against him in the hope that you would absorb some of it into your cotton.

The moment you crossed the threshold his hands were on you, pulling your clothes from you like they had personally insulted him, shucking your jeans off your hips and pulling your panties down with them until you were bare, standing before him at the foot of his bed. He took a step back and you watched his face as his gaze devoured you, the heat of it so scorching that you could swear you could feel his fingers on you even standing three feet away. You trembled from the cold air and the intensity of it, and he saw in your face, read in you that you wanted to turn away from it, from the intimacy of it.

‘Don’t,’ he all but whispered, coming towards you and running his hands up on the outside of your arms. ‘Don’t be shy, not now,’ he said. He slipped a hand behind your back and his knees between yours, pushing you gently onto the bed behind you, laid his body over you and nipped at the skin behind your ear. You pulled at his flannel, trying to claw it from him without even unbuttoning it, groaning in frustration when the garment held fast. He snickered, his little lopsided grin, as he pulled it away.

You lifted yourself up on one arm, bringing the other to cradle him to you, licks and nibbles to his collar bone, to the patches of hair on his chin. His brought his hands to your breasts, pebbled the nipple with his fingers while he pushed and rolled them, squeezed them together just to watch them bounce. He was hard and heavy between your legs, still covered in his jeans, and you lifted shaking fingers to his belt buckle. He froze, a sharp intake of breath between his teeth, as he watched you. You faltered, worried for a second you had read it all wrong, that he was going to push you from him, that he had seen something in you, that you had revealed something wrong and gnarled.

‘Do you…should I?’ you stuttered, and he came to his senses again, his brow creasing when he saw you were floundering.

‘Oh, my sweet girl,’ he said, and you thought it would be kinder if he just set you on fire at that point, ‘darlin’ I was just awed for a second, that somethin’ as gorgeous as you would want a man like me. An old man like me.’

You felt the relief wash over you, your pulse quickening now but not from fear. ‘Seasoned,’ you grinned, bringing him back down to you, pulling him on top of you as his hands helped yours to free him, push his jeans over his hips. ‘Worn in,’ you went on, and he grinned at your little game. ‘Fine wine,’ you finished, and he snickered again.

‘Vinegar,’ he said, and you pushed his head down to your chest, fed him your breast, let him lave at your nipple while you gasped and clutched at his hair.

‘Experienced,’ you whimpered, and he huffed out a warm laugh into your breastbone. You wanted to unlock your ribs, swing them open like an ancient garden gate, and capture it there for safe keeping.

Free, now, the two of you naked and lying together on top of his blanket, the sheets rumpling underneath you as you rutted against each other. He reached a hand down to cup your sex, groaning when he felt how wet he had made you, how you were dripping for him. You gasped as he ran his fingers up and over your slit, gently teasing your lips apart, testing you, teasing you. You rolled your hips, trying to snare him, trying to slide him inside, but he worked against you, zigged when you zagged, and your frustrated little gasps delighted him.

‘Joel,’ you groaned, your voice tight across your chest, not enough air in your lungs to properly scold him. He ignored you, instead lifting his lips to his fingers and sampling a little taste. You watched him, eyes wide as his fell shut at the taste of you.

‘So sweet,’ he said, almost to himself, before he opened his eyes as if he just remembered you were there. ‘Here, baby,’ he said, and he fed yourself to you, his fingers sliding over your tongue as you suckled at them, his hot breath on your face as he watched you, pupils dark in the half-light of his lamp, sweat forming on his brow.

When you had sucked them clean he lowered them again, slipped them inside you, bending down to rest his ear on your mouth when you began to pant, to whimper.

‘Show me,’ he said, pulling your hand to your cunt and watching as you began slow, lazy circles around your clit. He furrowed his brow, pushed off you and down to watch properly, lifted a leg to prop you open, planting your foot on the mattress beneath you to open you wide and obscene in front of him. You blushed, moved to cover your face with your hands, but he stopped and caught you, brought your fingers back to your core before he slipped inside again. You raised your head to look at him beneath you and you realised he was learning you, studying your movements to replicate them later, letting you teach him how to touch you so that you’d never have to do it alone again.

Your first orgasm hit you hard. Under his careful, studious gaze you felt yourself unravel, your legs shaking where he held you open, his hand grasping at your ankle to keep you from slamming shut. So lost in the feeling of it, of the blooming heat expanding out and into your belly, of the undulations of your cunt around his fingers, that you barely noticed him slip his fingers from you and slide to the ground beside the bed, pushing your legs into your chest and holding them there, pressing you in half all the better to ease his tongue into your cunt and lick up your spend, kitten licks at your sensitive clit before plunging his tongue into your hole, breathing hard through his nose and groaning, uttering filth in the base of his throat as he devoured you, wrung your second orgasm from you in a matter of minutes, rolling from side to side and head thrown back, hands tangled in his hair as his mouth rode you, as he stayed with you up to your peak and then over it, savouring and lapping at your come, rutting into the side of the bed as he let your thighs down to rest on his shoulders, your breath ragged and rippling with pleasure, hands clutching to the blanket to steady himself, to catch his breath.

He gazed at you in repose, ran his eyes over your sopping cunt up to your heaving belly, to the curve of the underside of your breast, the nipples straining into the cold air, and then up to your face, your head thrown back as you came down, as you squirmed from the overstimulation still coursing through you, as you let your hands drop beside you, sated and glorious in his worship of you.

You swallowed, your mouth, lips, throat dry. With shaky hands you reached for him, grabbed at the air above his shoulders, felt him shift and rise up to meet you, felt his weight blanketing you as you came back to yourself. With one hand in your hair and the other tracing your cheek, your jaw, you opened your eyes to stare into his, the desire carved hard and deep into his features.

‘Take it,’ you whispered, watching as his bottom lip quivered with need. ‘Please, Joel.’

He shifted his weight to one arm, reached down between you as you lifted your legs to bracket his hips, crossing your feet at the ankles behind his back. You felt him guide his cock to the weeping maw of your cunt.

‘Please,’ you whispered again, as you felt him slip inside you, the burn and the stretch and the force of him, so hard and pulsing as he parted you. He dropped his head, sighing, and you planted your lips to his brow, whimpered at the weight of his cock inside you, at the weight of the two of you finally, finally joined.

‘She’s tight, baby,’ he said, his brow creasing. He moved his hips, shoving further into you in one shot, and you gasped, grabbed at his shoulders, brought his eyes back to yours. He paused, gazing into your eyes, read the trepidation in them. ‘S’ok baby,’ he cooed, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheekbone. ‘You can do it,’ he encouraged, and you felt the warmth of his reassurance radiate down your thighs. ‘We can take our time,’ he said, languidly pulling back from you before gently, achingly, taking his place again. ‘Got all night for ya,’ he said, and you realised he had started to ramble, and that under his hot breath, on top of his blanket in his sparse bedroom lit only by his bedside lamp, in the cold Jackson night where the snow dampened all the noise, all the loss, all the sharp edges down, you never wanted him to stop whispering his filthy encouragement to you, never wanted him to stop easing his way into you, to the core of you, marking you where only he belonged.

‘Doin’ so good for me,’ he went on, his eyes closing on their own, lost in the grip of your cunt around him, in the heat of you. Finally he was fully seated, the warmth of his belly coming to rest upon yours. He settled there, reluctant to move, until you squirmed underneath him, caged whimpers escaping your throat. He opened his eyes, his lopsided grin appearing above you, as he planted a kiss on your hairline, gazed down at you as you stretched around him. He brought his hand down to cup your jaw again, held you there under his stare, as he withdrew his hips and eased back in again, pushing deeper into you that you gasped when he bottomed out, his eyes never leaving yours as your mouth dropped open in surprise at the feeling he was pulling from you, at the need and the ache of your cunt spread so open and wanting for him, at the way he was so effortlessly taking you apart, so calmly and so warmly unravelling you.

‘Too good,’ you complained, your brow saddling and jaw clenching, as you felt your cunt grip and release, grip and release. He cooed at you, revelling in your whimpers, gasped as you did, shared in your breath, made you submit to the divinity he was pushing you towards. This was how your third orgasm found you.

Locked in his gaze you could only lie beneath him, holding him to you by the shoulders and groaning as he pistoned in and out, watching his eyes slam shut as he was dragged under, submitted to the pull, his come washing the fear and the stress and the grief out of you, replacing it only with scorching heat, with a kind of pleasure indistinguishable from a greedy, pernicious want, with something that, in another life, you could have shaped into love.

You lay, entwined together, under his blanket. Your head on his chest, ear to his heartbeat, you felt your body rise and fall as he breathed underneath you. You hadn’t wanted the night to end, hadn’t wanted to close your eyes and wake to the aftermath. Together you lay and watched the sunrise. Occasionally Joel ran his fingers up and down your arm to let you know he was still there.

‘Joel?’ you whispered, and he hummed in response. You kept your head down, listening to his pulse quicken as you spoke. ‘Canna ask you something?’ you said, jaw resting on his ribs.

‘Uhhuh,’ he said, but his fingers were stopped now, frozen in place on your shoulder.

‘Before, when we were…’ you trailed off, because even though hours before he had been eyelevel with your swollen, puffy cunt, now suddenly talking about it felt too intimate. ‘Before,’ you started again, ‘you said you didn’t think I’d want a man like you.’

‘An old man,’ he corrected, and you smiled.

‘Seasoned,’ you corrected, and he groaned, theatrically. ‘But you said a man like you, then an old man like you,’ you reminded him. He wasn’t laughing anymore, and you could feel the temperature in the room drop. ‘What did you mean?’ you ploughed on, because you were in it now.

He thought for a moment, swallowing hard. You shifted in his arms, looked up at him, saw the flicker of panic there, before he reset his features in stone. You pulled away from him in surprise, not having seen that look directed at you in weeks, not since the first time he had appeared reticent and sore at your door. Your stomach dropped.

‘I gotta check on the horses,’ he said, rolling you out of the way and moving to get up. You sat up with him, grabbing at his arm.

‘Joel,’ you said, trying to pull him back towards you, but so easily overpowered. He rolled his shoulder, shaking you off.

‘The two that came back, they need to be checked over. Waited for first light.’

‘Joel, I don’t understand what’s happening.’ He was standing, pacing around the room pulling his clothes back together, gathering yours and dropping them on the end of the bed. He stared at you, expectant, but you refused to move.

‘What kind of man did you mean, Joel?’ you pressed him, and he scoffed, pulling his jeans on and hastily doing up his shirt. He missed a few buttons, and in that moment you didn’t feel like helping him.

‘You know exactly what kind of man,’ he said.

You saw Maria’s tense shoulders when he came into her kitchen, bleeding. You saw her sitting in your kitchen as you held her feet to your chest, explaining how Tommy was different, how he had only wanted to impress his big brother.

Sort of dressed, he was now pacing, the morning light turning his skin a ghostly pale, and you thought for a moment he was haunting you. ‘You know exactly,’ he repeated. ‘Same reason you came running to me the second your friend needed killin’.’

You flinched like he’d slapped you, would have preferred if he had.

‘What kind of man, Joel?’ you asked, and he looked at you, then, tortured for a second before he wiped it away with his hand on his face.

‘A fuckin killer,’ he said, quiet and deathly in the chill of the morning.

You stared at him, heart racing. You were surprised and you also weren’t. You knew what this world demanded of people, the toll you had all paid for survival.

‘Infected?’ you asked, and he sighed, frustrated.

‘Don’t be so fuckin’ naïve,’ he said.

You remembered you were naked, but this was the first time he had really made you feel it, and you held the blanket to your chest, tight.

He wouldn’t look at you, staring instead out the window as Jackson woke.

‘I ain’t a good man,’ he said, quietly, and you shook your head.

‘I don’t believe that,’ you said, and he sneered at you then, picked up your clothes and threw them at you.

‘You don’t know shit about me,’ he said, and then he was gone. You listened as his heavy footsteps stomped down the stairs, the pause as he pulled his boots on, the slam of the door.

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winepresswrath · 9 months

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Cannot believe at this late stage of my life I'm becoming a Gabriel fucker. Local mean jock doesn't want to be evil now, he wants to be loved. I'm slightly annoyed they didn't make Beelzebub more unhinged because the "plot" should have been at least half about them fucking up shit on an absolute rampage trying to find Gabriel, a thing everyone assumes they are doing to fry him with hellfire so they can kick off the war in a way that's advantageous to hell, BUT ACTUALLY!!! true love.

#I do love evil love!#but more than that it's like... the terrible emptiness of heaven and hell?#absolutely no one has been having a good time!#they're just middle management admin suckers doing a soulless job no one else understands #they don't even care about earth! six thousand years of #mommy promised that if you all sit down and shut up we can have another war when the humans are dead #as a form of enrichment for their underlings #and they're just going along with it because that's the grind #incidentally I enjoyed how childish the angels were this season my pet theory is that they and the demons also have free will but no one #noticed so they've all just been making themselves miserable enforcing corporate culture and plotting each other's downfall because it #didn't occur to them to do anything else #gabriel and beelzebub realizing there's more to life and they can simply say fuck it and make something good between them #implies other angels and demons can do the same! as does Muriel obviously #like they are torturing each other. in much the same ways that humans are torturing each other #sad for Aziraphale and Crowley they care about earth & humans #which is a real problem they have that Gabzebub do not #and also that Crowley is in denial about how much he wants to be good and Aziraphale is in denial about just so many things and also #committed to being an ass about it.#these are problems that Gabriel and Beelzebub do NOT have because they are goal oriented and keep their eyes on the prize #good omens spoilers

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mourningmaybells · 8 months

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"the creator of FAITH said john ward is bisexual" yeah but does john ward know that

#he is in 9 layers of denial for all we know #id like to think he knows though... just ofhandedly mentions how no one want him. sad that this gets confirmed outside the game and not in #faith the unholy trinity

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dramarants · 1 year

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don’t even look at me if you wouldn’t consider sealing yourself in an ice coffin with me to stay by my side should I suffer an untimely death 😩

#till the end of the moon #tteotm #ranting #luo yunxi you fucking GOD - the way he speaks to and holds her corpse in both scenes. denial. desperation. fear. disbelief. the trembling.#his face walking up to her coffin and subsequent rage and protectiveness with qingyu over both her and their relationship #no matter how many times she said her purpose was to kill him he still believes they loved each other and refuses anything else #the bracelet sequence the face nuzzle the mirthful laughter #he can’t bear to lose her and he has no idea where to direct his overwhelming pain and sadness despite their conflicts #after all what’s grief but all the love still left to give. he has lost ppl before but not like this #there’s prolly a fair amount of guilt and self hatred underlying everything too #all he's done these last eps is try to hold on to her in every way - with every shred of his being - but none of it worked #‘just say one word please’ ‘you’re really hateful’ AAHHHH #his injured hands shaking her as if things are normal. later tucking her hand in gently as if not to wake her despite the truth.#he's lost all sense of self and purpose. his grasp on reality is hanging by a thin fucking thread #he will gladly live in his delusion & try to stay by her side. even in death. even when she didn't want it.#he can't go on w/o her anymore - doesn't know how. she has fundamentally changed him.#(so much that he even fights the devil god voice in her defense 🙏)#it’s scenes like this that bludgeon you with humanity amidst all the unreal fantastical elements and bring you back to these shows #omg I’m remembering his fixation on her not looking at him with ttml before - boy was already going insane w/o her when she was still there #healthy attachment and coping? ttj doesn't know her 😌#like idk if he fucks her corpse in the novel but props to lyx I’d fucking believe it #and once again nian baiyu is not paid nearly enough for any of this

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strifethedestroyer · 2 years

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anyway i started playing ac brotherhood.

#assassin's creed #its really cool so far i like it #brotherhood spoilers ahead i know all of you have played it but im putting this here for unsuspecting eyes just in case!#i stopped at the part where we move in the studio into the sanctuary #i missed ezio sm #and also claudia footage!!!!!! when i get farther in the game i mayyy be able to write that claudia x courtesan reader for ayame #wow desmond's pronounciation of altair ibn-la'ahad.. 😭#i forgot how bri'ish shaun is like goddamn #why are we casually brushing off the fact that DESMOND SWAM IN A SEWER.#also im starting to like lucy more?? i didnt like her in the other 2 games but she's growing on me #UNCLE MARIO'S DEATH MAKES ME SO SAD EZIO YOU SHOULD HAVE KILLED THE POPE #anyway i finally saw cesare in action. im still gonna bully leo for liking his design but i may just be in denial becuase he's kinda..#also cesare showed a gun and said that ezio's friend fashioned it for him. does that mean that leo betrayed it PLEASE tell me leo was #forced to do it I DONT WANT LEO TO BETRAY EZIO PLEASE

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gazelessmenagerie · 1 year

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🗝 I would like to Compel the space gorilla

Send 🗝 to force my muse to talk about a topic they never want to speak of

Large hands idly traced their thumbs around the shiny skin of a perfect Demonic Apple, ceaselessly rubbing the surface solemnly. Emptiness fill the gap within absent-minded pupils staring upon the waxy surface, hollow, and yet there lay something beside it slowly eating away at him with invisible fangs and a slow, relentless hunger.

For months its resided there in that little crevice, nibbling away at its surroundings in the dead of night and with each passing day. Nameless and unknown, it was as unfamiliar as this planet’s range of flora and fauna. Something compelled him to speak of what ailed him so, coaxed him to finally loosen the choking chain around his throat and let forlorn words hinge over vexations riddled upon the burden of his shoulders. How to begin, though, was the first step of many and it wasn’t one so easily taken by a mouth that knew nothing than how to spit venom upon the desecration of his fallen enemies and vow threats carved from his tongue.

“ .. They disgust me. ”

“ These wretched things within. ”

“ I hear them in the silence of the world. ”

“ I feel their poisonous tongues glide along my flesh. ”

Searing red pierced deep into the abyss of onyx pupils, matching the same vibrant hue of those rolled papers held by golden string against the canopy of dark hair. Eyelids fell over slowly, echoes of the old wails of memory seeping to focus within the darkness of smaller feet skipping along behind him. The sun rose and fell, the annoyance of that stupid girl tailing him worse than his own.

‘ Something on your mind again? How about we work it through with two heads than one? ’

Idiot. What use is there to have two heads if one of them was weak and stupid? What could a second head offer that one couldn’t do on its own?

‘ You can sleep if you want. I made sure a good dream is waiting for you. ‘

How does one assure of a good dream? It seemed nothing but a false promise made. He hadn’t dreamed for a long time, slumbering as needed but.. lately he’s been having dreams that touched upon realities he hadn’t thought were--

Stop it.

Stop making him remember..

Nails dug into the once pristine flesh of the apple, sweetened words brimming with the warmth of the sun. Hardly a day went by that he didn’t escape that little runt. Verdant fields blossomed with the most fragrant flowers he’s encountered in a long stretch of time. Walking amongst those peasants and lowly insects, coaxed along by the skipping beat of that miserable girl wanting to show him where things were should he ever decide to leave the seclusion of the wild. Savory scents of succulent foods and desserts, paving the way for where the hot springs were and how..

“ I hate it. ”

Tension roiled within his body, hardly anything to hinder him but that wretch wouldn’t leave him be until he took time to sit in the searing warmth of the hot spring.

‘ You always look so tense, its not good to be tense all the time but I have a remedy for it. There’s hot springs nearby and people from the village go there to relax. It’ll help you too. ’

When did he need help? He was perfectly fine the way he is. Punting the cur got her to leave him alone but she’d be back the next day. Sometimes, if she was particularly stupid or stubborn, she’d return in the same day. Offerings of food, what they were called and the ingredients used if she caught him observing it. Showing him how to cook an egg while he was soaking away his pains and aches in the bubbling waters, dropping eggs into the water and peels of oranges for that wonderful fruity scent.

The scent of those damn apples were the most favored by that runt..

Or was it her favorite fruit to eat..?

Was it both..?

‘ The world’s beautiful, like the trees and birds. The flowers and fruit. The sky and sun. Moon and the stars, you have to see it for yourself to know the beauty of it. ’

He’s seen the endless abyss of a careless void, seen the burning hot fury of stars and ended entire planets by his hand. Once he’s seen it once, they’re all the same. What makes this mudball so damn special that he’d care for one measly second of it? He’s witnessed how the tempest tears away at anything caught in its path and the destruction caused by its howling winds, pelting needles and fires ignited by the strike of heavenly fangs.

‘ Do you like flowers? I noticed you like to look at them when we’re out here in this field. ’

His jaw tightened. Juices ran down the curves and contours of his hands, ignored entirely as a low growl rumbled. Every stupid word he’s had to hear. Things he never asked for but that girl kept telling him stories about her village, her life, her mother, anything she thought would be something worthy to talk about regardless if she was the only one speaking.

‘ You sound like thunder. We have a saying that the sound of thunder means new life is sure to follow. The storm, no matter how vicious, brings rain and rain makes our crops grow. ’

“ I. Hate. Her..! ”

The hole wouldn’t fill itself no matter how much resentment and hate he attempted to drown it in. The sharp crunch of sweetly aromatic flesh squelched like a skull in his crushing grip, eyes snapping open with the onset of Rage twisting at his face. Gusts burst away from his frame, flinging away loosened gravel, stones and debris. Fluid ran down the extent of his forearm, sticky as the blood that had coated on that day he pulverized that runt into the dirt! He heard her bones crack, heard her screams for him to stop but jealousy blinded him into a wrath. It was her fault.. HER FAULT for getting in HIS way! She was the one to blame for angering him!

“ I burned down her miserable village and broke that sniveling whelp like the insect she is with the Audacity to try and Take what is MINE! ”

Why was he getting worked up over that inane worm?! Months passed and the hole only deepened. It ate at him when he was alone with his thoughts in the dead of night, festered like an unclean wound for what reason?! He’s killed before, thousands, billions. Several sea’s worth of blood were upon his hands and not once did he ever feel regret for any of it. He’s destroyed entire civilizations and the planets they called home. Stars were of no match to him and even the entire being of a galaxy was slain by his own insurmountable power!

And yet, that insignificant speck wouldn’t let him be!

The hole in his chest grew wider by the centimeter, ate away at him like a disease that had no cure. To what end did he wind up with such a vile, tormenting pestilence?!

“ I can’t get that insufferable worm out of my head every damn time I look at these wretched apples..! ”

“ I don’t bring life, I Destroy it! Every ounce of it, every little iota of it, I’ll kill all as I please and there isn’t a damn thing that can be done about it! Not her, not them, Not ANYONE! I don’t need her help, I never needed anything from that little speck of Weakness! ”

Weak. Weak! WEAK!

That’s all she ever is. That’s all anyone is on this floating mudball! Why should he bother himself to see beauty when it was nothing but the same formations of rock and pockets of civilization? These lives mean nothing to him. These people are nothing but bugs to be squashed whenever he pleased, AS he pleased! Stringent torso expanded and contracted with the forceful snarls of air filtering to and from lungs, tearing at the air before his head yanked backwards for a harrowing howl to echo outwards into the far reaches of the land. Destruction followed suit with a cacophony of explosions ransacking the territory around, mindless roars shattering the atmosphere with a hiccup of short, choking breaths biting past a throat before another prolonged shout filled the air.

#viopolis #|| Tag: Answered #|| Tag: Gazing over the Abyss of Stars { Broly }#|| Verse: The Future Will Bare It's Fangs #( lmfao whats something he never wants to speak of? admitting he actually felt a semblance of content and then fucking it up. )#( bc of his own jealousy and rage. )#( mirin might as well have been a little sister but welp. he just botched it bc who ever taught him how to handle his emotions? )#( and just god. the english dub of movie 8 when he starts roaring right before he breaks free of control sounds like sobbing. )#( with how he breathed and screamed. furious but it had that sob in it. just alfsjg yeah could be me but thats what I went with. )#( sad that he just can't process anything without anger or violence. )#( not yet at least but BOY that's gonna take months to get any progress and months more to make progress with setbacks and lapses )#( anyway. the months of denial and burying the pain and guilt he pushed down for so long are catching up and he has a reckoning to face. )#( will he do it? find out next time. )

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grandmofftarkinsuggestions · 1 year

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crying and crying and sobbing thinking about tarkin.

#sorry everyone all the self denial and guilt and masking and bottled up feelings he deals with constantly really got to me.#oughh. whyy. he's so. like. ough.#sw #wilhuff tarkin #idk it's just really sad the way he feels so othered but kinda. holds onto it and lashes out about it. and gets manipulated through these #feelings of alienation. don't you just wanna go apeshit. don't you just want to fucking lose it. i love when he's unhinged bc i Understand #how it feels to want to lash out violently. and to deal with violent urges.....#it's so easy to characterize yourself as a vicious wild animal when everything wants to spill out through blood.#and he does. he's bleeding out like a wounded animal and he's fighting back... he's a deer knowingly walking into the headlights.#AND he's gonna win. or he's gonna die trying. isn't it interesting how deer will die with their antlers locked in combat?

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no-one-hears-me · 21 days

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I really truly genuinely do not want to let him go

#I'm in denial. what order are the 5 stages of grief #like. i don't want it to be true. if it's true that means i can't forgive him this time and i can't go back #that can't happen i can't lose him #idk what to do #i feel so lost and helpless #i can't believe this happened. I'm so sad #i just want things to be good again. everything was so good #why did it have to change #was it worth it? was it worth all my pain #i don't know what to do #and now i have nobody. he was everything to me and now he's gone #it's been years. doesn't that mean anything to him?#but he doesn't want to lose me either. he'll do anything to keep me #but it's too late. we can't change the past and i can't pretend it didn't happen #he can apologize and promise to change but it's too late #and i wish it wasn't. i wish we had more time together #and i wish i wasn't so sensitive and emotional and nostalgic and attached #a stronger person would have let go a long long time ago. and would do it now without hesitation #but i can't. how could i just give up without looking back? i can't #I'm so sad #Sera

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astro-break · 5 months

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The problem with being a cozmez fan is that for the past two weeks I have been eagerly awaiting The Reveal TM but keep getting hit over the head with BAE angst instead

not complaining but also. cozmez Angst. please. im just a starving paralive fan

#like this week was better than last because of that conversation between them which muah beautiful foreshadowing and peak angst #but i just want to see how the anime will reveal The Thing TM #I wanna see kanata's face go from elation to horror and denial #i wanna see iori look on with grief and sadness that no matter how hard he tried he failed to help kanata #i want kanatas quiet grief as he comes to terms with everything and acknowledge that some part of him no matter how small had already known #i want his desperation as he tries again and again to summon the phantom but just can't #I JUST WANNA SEE COZMEZ ANGST PLEASEEEEEE #speaking of phantoms im sad we didn't get to see allen not being able to summon his illusions #like that would have been cool to see as he talked with bae over the phone but i guess animation budget couldn't fit it #if you wanted my train of thought i believed it would be one ep per drama track #so after VIBES it would be TRAP then two eps for LIVE for full angst and the final ep would either be a prologue or a setup for a season 2

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katz-chow · 3 months

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sorry sex with simon

warnings: pnv, fem!reader, fluffy, edging/denial, msub, fsoftdom

simon doesn't know how to apologize besides throwing himself into your mercy. he loves you and can't think of any other way to express to you how never means to hurt you, how everything he does is to make sure you're comfortable and taken care of.

even after this stupid little argument that he had with you, he didn't even know why he was fighting. he just realized too late when he saw tears form in your eyes and your feet stomping off into your shared bedroom.

so here is his penance, his apology: giving you soft kisses on your shoulder as his arms hold you up over his cock.you whine and groan as his cock slips in and out of your dripping pussy. he didn't want to hurt you and he didn't want to make you feel any more discomfort so he, in turn, used more lube than he normally would. the sounds of skin slapping skin normally would have made you blush in embarrassment and cause you to curl up into him. this time around, you couldn't care less, the way he's making you feel was a clear juxtaposition to how to feel just an hour before.

you feel his breath, heavy and hot in the crook of your neck, you pussy pulses around him and over your moans, he gives you one in return. his tongue licks and sucks on your shoulder gently, "m' sorry baby...shouldn't have said that..."

you whine and wrap your arms around his neck and his back, your tits pressed against his chest, "can we...ah- can we not..." you suck in a breath, "do this right now, si? when you're in me?"

he mumbles something you can't process or hear as one of his arms unravels and goes to rub tight circles around your clit. your back arches into his touch and a loud groan of his name rings out.

"wanna show you...how sorry i am.." he pants as his dick throbs inside of you, so so close to cumming, fill you up in his sticky release. the snap of his hip dials down into a roll. he hums as he feels your body start to tense up as the tension builds in your lower stomach.

crescent indents form in his back as your nails dig in from the pleasure he's able to give you, the amount of bliss 10x as strong from the lack of such a euphoric feeling you've been feeling. his thumb rubs your aching clit just a bit harder and your groans turned into a cacophony of whimpers and high pitched squeals as your orgasm runs through you.

simon feels your body tensing up in his arms, and damn does his cock feel it too. the way your cushiony walls pulsate and clamp dowm on him, god he was hard, it was unbearable. he wanted to cum so fucking badly, been wanting to put a load in you for half an hour now but he won't let himself. he said he was showing you how sorry he was, and that's exactly what he's doing.

your breathing steadies itself and you curl up closer to him, resting your face onto the top of his head, smelling in his yours shampoo. your whines become hiccups as your high dies down, overwhelmed and tired.

"i'm sorry lovie..." he begins, his hand slipping out from between your legs and his hips start to roll his cock in and out of your raw pussy. you groaned and tense up at the overstimulation, clinging onto him.

he turns off his brain as you help him, pulling your hips up and down. he lets out a breathy moan and holds you closer, snapping his throbbing cock inyo your harder, faster. his lips on your neck as he prays to you a mantra.

"m'sorry..so sorry, lovie..." simon's close he can feel it, he just needs two words from you, that's it. he needs you to let him cum, god-seeing you sad is punishment enough, mixed with the pain of his tight balls and overly sensitive cock makes him a brainless mush.

he couldn't take it anymore as he pounds into you, mumbling messily into your ear, your scent overwhelming him- you overwhelming him. "m'sorry m'sorry...so sorry. m'sorry sorrysorrysorry...."

"it's okay, si...it's okay." god, that's all he needs as his prayers to you were answered, his mantra stops with a restrained moan, quickly turning into whimpers like a hurt puppy as you feel his thick cum fill you, dripping down his shaft.

his arms loosen the grip he has on you and you slide down his dick just a bit and he bites into your shoulder, the friction making him overwhelmed. the two of you sit like that for a bit, leaning on each other to stay upright. you don't even think simon had anything to think about.

"you okay?" you ask him, grounding him from his headless space that he had slipped to, dependent on you for everything.

you feel him nod and his arms lift you up, pulling out of you. he gives you a gentle kiss on your lips and your hands find his cheeks, wiping away his tears. "m' really sorry.."

"i know, baby...i know.." you assure him and he lays back onto the headboard.

simon riley would gladly give up his whole being for you, and luckily for him, you'll always accept it, holding him together until he stitch himself up again.

master list | letter box | main directory

stop by the letter box!

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senxitive · 1 year

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I was walking with The One the other day as we were having our talk, and he always does this thing where he starts narrating for me and its kind of like in Golden Girls when Blanch slip into a trance and starts babbling about her ~sexy~ experiences and the girls have to stop her or she'll go on forever into a spiral of delirium.

And anyways, so he's over there narrating a conversation we aren't having and I hand gestured a mouth closing and said SHHHH to him.

He had to stop walking because he was laughing.

Why is this important?

Because if this had been my ex partner, they would have been OFFENDED. They would have been hurt. They would have taken it to heart.

And the difference is so astounding to me. I didn't think twice about doing it to Him, but I would have had to witthold or never would have even thought about doing it towards my Ex. I always had to withhold so much of my authentic self because it always offended him.

It's both confirming in the sense that my ex partner really wasn't for me, nor me for him, and it's all coming to light so much more now. As well as confirming the feeling of being robbed of what could be one of the most compatible relationships I would have had the pleasure of experiencing. We truly are kindred spirits. And it just fucking sucks.

#personal #delete later #yes im going to keep whining about it #5 months later lol #to be fair i think i spent the first 3 months in denial #it was this sense of we HAVE to end up together how couldnt we! we were made for each other!!!#whilst still separating myself from our very good memories #and then it kicked into reality somewhere around 4 months like oh...yeah...we really are never going to get to be together #now ive accepted it mostly but i still get my hopes up and i still get so angry that something so fantastic could be presented to me and #be just a fucking joke #it was kind of sad he told me when he was trying to find reasons that we shouldnt be together one of them was that he will die before me #he was talking about how genetically he's not healthy...and i knoe this and it scares me and makes me want to take over his life and make #him take care of himself...but anyways he was just saying like he'd probably die in the next 15 years or something #and i just feel sad #that he feels that way and that it is a real possibility #im thankful i managed to somehow tell him it didnt matter because it would have been worth the time i got to spend with him #and i didnt mean in a bargaining way. i just wanted him to know. because i wish he understood the value he holds and that he is important #aightttt ive gone off on a tangent again

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lemmetreatya · 1 year

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driving instructor!nanami who knows as soon as you step into his car, that you’re going to fail.

with your hot pink acrylics that click, clack against the wheel, your mini skirt that just about covers the round of your ass and the see-through mesh top you hone that you wear absolutely no solid material underneath. with driving instructor!nanami knows he shouldn’t look but he can’t help his eyes that glance towards your perked nipples that are clearly begging for attention.

and the thing is, it’s not like driving instructor!nanami wants to fail you, but he does have his doubts when you ask him if you can finish the test early because you have “a more important function to attend to.”

But alas, driving instructor!nanami let’s you take your test. and despite his misconception, you’re not a bad driver. you end the course with no major faults but you just about have one-too-many minors and sadly he has to fail you.

“what?! only one minor over the threshold?!”

your glossed pout is adorable and driving instructor!nanami hates that you look you’re about to cry — especially since he’s the one who’s caused your sadness.

but its when you ask if there’s really nothing you could do then and there to make things right or fix the mishap, that driving instructor!nanami suddenly has a change of heart and mentions how maybe there is something you could do to maybe fix it.

driving instructor!nanami is absolutely mesmerised by how your breast bounce in his face, your pathetic little whines of “i can’t do it, i can’t, i can’t!” as you struggle to ride his heavy cock in the back seat.

he bunches your now pleatless skirt in his hands as he grasps at the fat of your ass, swishing his fingers inside your puckered hole as he chants back “yes you can” with the utmost lack of remorse.

the double penetration is so overstimulating that you squirt a messy spray of wet juice all over driving instructor!nanami’s dick, his tan coloured trousers and back car seat darkening in colour. driving instructor!nanami moans loudly into your ears as he pulls out and cums just over your moist pussy lips. he makes sure to tap the head of his cock over the steady stream of liquid that pours from your sex.

“you think im gonna let you pass after you just spoilt my car?”

you whimper at his sign of possible denial of passing, your mind still hazy from your shocking orgasm. on impulse, your hand comes down to languidly stroke at driving instructor!nanami’s dick. as if it wasn’t wet enough from both of your cums, you swaddle a bout of saliva in your mouth before dribbling it down over his curved and semi hard cock.

as a string of spit still dangles from your chin and lips, you give driving instructor!nanami a teary eyed yet manipulative look.

“please.” you whisper.

it’s safe to say that on that day, you gained your driver’s licence.

#nanami kento #nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x black!reader #nanami x black reader #jjk nanami #jjk #jjk reader #jjk reader smut #jjk smut

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samodivaa · 2 months

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Bucky with an oral fixation due to his anxiety so you let him suck your big tits (smut)

Bucky’s heart may fail him in so many horrors—both in waking, from his nerves, and in sleep, from his nightmares, because the punishment of his disordered mind is its own disorder. A disorder nobody else has. There is no cure, but he is trying to master it, he is learning to live with it—just as he has learned to live with other storms of his mind. The impossibility of love? He has you now. The past can't be annihilated, it is a part of him. Regret, denial, sadness—it leads to anxiety and his habit of always chewing on something—gum, sweets. He holds his breath, a desperate attempt to slow down his heartbeat, a desperate attempt to get away. One second. Two seconds. The moment he chews on the pencil you gifted him for that purpose, he is feeling better. No amount of him trying to explain himself is doing any good, he doesn’t even know what is going on inside of him—but your observation is the first step of the inner unfolding, of finding a solution to every problem he has. You create so much love, compassion, equanimity and joy in his mind that he doesn’t feel ashamed or judged. But seeing him biting down on that pencil—once you've seen how broken he is, it's like seeing him naked. How can you help now? “Bucky, why don't you suck on my tits instead?”

His gaze, though almost improper, is the most sensual thing he could have done at the moment, and it jolts your heart into a strange rhythm, leaving you unable to speak. There is lust and then there is love. They are related, but still very different things—you surge forward, crossing the final, tiny gap and pressing your lips to his. It is desperate and frantic, but the feel of his mouth against yours sends a bolt of electricity straight down your spine. Bucky grips your waist and lifts you off the ground with ease, dropping you softly on the luxurious white linen bed. He gets on top and the gentle, erotic pressure of his mouth on yours, the compelling pleasure of his kiss—the world stops and all the silence, but for your hearts, trying to synchronize your crashing. It is all the thrill of these kisses, of your new naughty suggestion. It is the impatience of the way he tears your shirt from your body, that really turns you on—lust getting the better of him, Bucky is a gentle lover, but not today which makes a jolt of some foreign but not unwelcome sensation pierce you. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear as he mutters out: “I already love that idea, baby”

You let out an involuntary airy moan as he grabs them in his palms, his huge hands palming your tits, kneading gently at first before he rubs his palms in circles. He rolls one nipple between his fingers, humming in satisfaction as it hardens under his touch before he begins to suck on it while massaging your other tit. He's drooling, swirling his tongue over it before biting gently the nipple and he is thankful that your head is thrown back so you don't look how desperate he is. How fucked up he is. He fully embraces the deliciousness of this sin, the calmness that it brings to his mind and all you want to drown his worries. You want him to do something totally unlike himself and it is working—but this lust is something close to anguish, because he needs to stop eventually and he doesn't want to. He leans back a bit, searching for your eyes as he struggles to breathe, focusing on his lungs, on his ability to take deep breaths, to soothe with oxygen—the vast ocean of blue that is his eyes, remarkably focused and soft at the same time. “I love it, I love how big they are” he says thickly and completely without shame. He bites down on the curve of your breast, breathing softly on top of the skin “Can’t stop,” he says, the words coming out like a caress. He says it again, over and over. A litany. As your clothed cunt contracts at the friction against his pelvis, his words, you can feel him, hips bucking slowly up into you. He latches his mouth directly on your other nipple, making you cry out as he envelops a part of your breast into his mouth, a hand coming up to play with the other one. “Bucky—enough” Your hands go to his hair as he sucks sharply on the breast, but you can’t pull him away. You can’t help the whimpers that escape you, the long drawn out sobs that punch out of your throat whenever he bites a little harder, giving your other nipple a harsher tug as a punishment every time you try to push him back. Sucking removes any daily existence from his mind, any anxiety, grounding Bucky firmly in the moment and dragging your body with it. Until he had enough. What a beautiful madness, he never felt so relaxed.

#lord have mercy #drabble #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #bucky x reader

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reiderwriter · 3 months

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505

Week Four of my yearly playlist challenge!

Summary: When you fall asleep on the overnight drive between one case and the next, Spencer gets awfully distracted by your sleep talking.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Partial Spencer POV, dom!Spencer, brat!Reader, pain play (scratching, choking, spanking, etc), degradation (use of whore, slut), masturbation (m and f), orgasm denial, breeding kink, creampie, cockwarming.

A/N; Thank you to the Arctic Monkeys for fuelling my delusions and for gif makers everywhere for their services to horniness. This was the first playlist fic chosen from a recommended song, so if you enjoyed it, don't forget to send me more song recommendations for the playlist!~

Masterlist || Playlist

Spencer was never the most confident driver in the BAU, but between the two of you, he was the only one who possessed a licence.

Which is how he found himself driving through the night with you asleep in his passenger seat, trying not to be distracted by the small whimpers and sighs dropping from your mouth.

You'd been sent across state lines to investigate a recent homicide that may have been linked with your current case, and now that you'd deemed it relevant to your case, you were driving back to the rest of the team with all the documents you needed in tow.

He'd been happy to drive when you left, with the sky black and the air cold, knowing that the country roads that would lead you just over the border would be practically empty. He'd even been content to let you sleep the majority of the journey, having noticed how little sleep you'd managed to get so far on this case.

He'd been happy until your lips parted and you'd whispered his name in a moan.

He'd thought you were awake at that moment and assumed you were about to ask where you were or what time it was. But you hadn't opened your eyes, and your breaths were still even and steady.

You did it again five minutes later, and the gentle sound hit the hairs on the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine that settled comfortably in his now tight pants.

‘Shit,’ he thought, sparing a glance at you whilst keeping his hands comfortable at 10 and 2, his posture rigid as he willed other parts of his body to relax.

Your legs had splayed open, your hand having fallen unconsciously between them for some kind of relief. He didn't let his thoughts linger where his eyes had fallen.

He tried to convince himself that you were just dreaming about a case. Maybe he'd been shot in your dream, and you'd felt sad. Maybe your moans were ones of sorrow.

“Spencer, fuck…”

Maybe he was going to hell for the thoughts flooding his brain because he wanted nothing more than to slide a hand into your pants and start giving you the relief you so blatantly begged for.

He settled for turning into the next motel he saw advertised on the road. Hotch had told them, of course, that they could rest up for the night if needed, but he'd been too eager to get on the road while it was clear. But with his mind fogged with less than ideal thoughts, and your obviously aching body moaning beside him, a motel honestly couldn't hurt.

You woke up slowly as he parked the car, the lack of motion wearily drawing you from your dream. He looked across at you and let out a sigh of relief to see you conscious.

He'd been willing to carry you to whatever room you'd get, but he didn't know whether his hands would linger over your body. Wouldn't know if he'd be able to retract his hands at all if you reacted like that in your sleep.

Now you were awake and looking at him, talking to him even, but all he could think about was whether you'd react better to his touch when awake. How could he get you to moan his name again, and how loud would you dare do it?

“Spence? Hello, are you listening?”

“What?”

“Okay, I'm glad you pulled off the road if you're so tired you're not even hearing me speak,” you laughed a little, and the sound shot straight to his cock.

Your voice was thick with sleep, and the phantom of his name hung on your lips, having been the last words to drop from your tongue. He usually had better control of himself.

“Yeah, let's go get some sleep. You sounded pretty tired, too.”

“Sounded?” You asked, and he watched your face warp in gentle confusion. He bit his tongue, trying to retract the statement, choosing the cold, biting winter air over the sight of you with a pout on your lips.

His brain was addled with thoughts of those two plump cushions pouting around his cock as he held your hair back and- and yes, the cold air was definitely necessary.

“You stretch your legs, I'll go organise the room,” you said, climbing out of your side of the car. He nodded along, not trusting his voice not to break like a prepubescent boy and turning his back to you, not trusting his eyes to linger awkwardly on your ass.

It seemed like seconds, and then you were back leading him to the rooms you'd booked.

When you unlocked only one door, with only one key, however, Spencer found all the progress of the last few minutes squashed immediately.

“We're sharing?” He hung around the door, not sure whether to step inside or just resign himself to sleeping in the car. He made a mental note to grab some tissues before heading back out to the car if this conversation ended the way he thought it would.

“Yeah, they only had one room cleaned and ready right now. It's fine, right? We've shared rooms on cases before.”

You’d shared rooms on cases before, but never after he'd driven for nearly a half hour listening to you moan his name. He'd usually been too exhausted after full days of work and had regrettably fallen asleep first each time you'd been roommates.

“Yeah, it's cool.” He cleared his throat, trying to make the octave jump his voice had just made it seem like a symptom of some kind of sickness he was coming down with.

“Great, let me just go shower quickly, and then we can get into bed.”

Warnings signals rang throughout his head, but he still sat patiently listening to the water running in the shitty motel bathroom. Grabbing his go bag, he readied himself for sleep, trying to ignore the fact that you were hot and wet and naked just a wall away and that he could hear everything.

Every sigh you released, every trickle of water running across your skin. Every mumble of his name.

Again, he thought he'd imagined it, but now he was sure you were torturing him.

Your gasps of air were less innocent than they were four minutes ago, chest having faster and faster, and he thought it was clear that your hand covered your mouth to make you less audible. He didn't know what you were doing, but it didn't matter much to his cock, which had stiffened painfully once again. Unconsciously, his hand reached for it, needing to give himself some release. He'd already pulled off his slacks and put on his baggier sleep pants, which did nothing to hide his affliction.

Instead, it was somehow more obvious, painfully so. And his hand was pawing at it through the thin material, chasing that high that you yourself were likely close to in the bathroom.

It was only when the shower shut off once more that he realised how fogged his brain had been. His cock throbbed in his hand, and it certainly wasn't going down anytime soon, and you'd be out of the bathroom in minutes if not seconds.

With no other choice, he dived under the bed sheets and pulled them up across his chest, too, and began to pretend to sleep.

When the light spilt from the bathroom, he screwed his eyes shut tighter, even as his brain willed him to sneak a look at you.

But he held firm, telling himself that he just needed to wait for you to fall asleep and then he'd relieve himself.

At least those were his plans until he felt the dip in the bed, the movement of his sheets, and the warmth spreading across the bed from you to him.

You'd climbed into bed right next to him. Your ass was mere centimetres away from his crotch, and he shuddered in pleasure. Shuddered.

He tried to keep his breathing still, even, and he really thought after a few minutes that you too had fallen asleep. It was all but impossible as your body cuddled in closer to his and he found your ass pressed comfortably against his straining cock.

“Y/N, you need to move,” he warned, breath shooting out of him as he resisted digging his hands into your breasts and holding you tight so you couldn't move.

“I don't want to,” you replied sleepily, either not noticing the danger you were in or not caring.

His hands rested on your hips, trying to press you just slightly away so his own hips could scoot back, but you clung to his heat.

“It's cold in here, Spencer, and you're like a furnace right now.” With those pouty words, you turned your body around and wrapped your hips up and around his body. He scooted back as you did, though, just an inch too far, and instead of landing softly against his chest, the two of you landed in a tangled mess on the floor.

“Spencer,” you moaned again, this time in shock, as you perhaps finally felt his aching length poking the inside of your thigh.

He'd dampened your fall on the way down, clasping you to him as he flailed in the air for a few seconds, bringing his downfall on faster with your ass cupped in his palms.

“Fuck, Spencer, you're so hard.” His dick twitched at the sound of your tired voice pressed against his ear.

You pulled away slowly, head peeking down between you, trying to catch a glimpse of his still hardening cock between the two of you.

“Don't look, it'll get harder,” he grunted, grasping your hips harder and trying to catch your attention again. But that just had you grinding down into his hips again, and your mouth widened in that perfect ‘o’ as you felt the desperation and need drip from him.

“Spencer,” you said, hips reacting slowly at first as they kept up the small movements of pressing down on him and lifting your hips slightly to do so again.

You were grinding your cunt into his hard cock, pinning him to the ground and using his body to get yourself off.

It was the most deliriously arousing thing he'd ever born witness to.

“Y/N, stop it before you regret it.” His tone was a warning, but his words came out at barely a whisper. You didn't even bother with a reply.

“Y/N, please I mean it-”

“Spencer, fuck-” you moaned for the last time before he pushed you to the ground and pressed his lips against yours.

He'd hit his limit, and now he was going to reach his reward.

He ran his hands up to the waistband of your sleep shorts and quickly tugged them down, lips not leaving yours as he forced his tongue into your mouth. Your moans were throaty now, and they were loud, your brain so delirious with just you'd completely bypassed any shy feelings.

After making quick work of your pants, he grabbed your hand in his and moved it over his throbbing cock, showing you what it was you needed from him.

“Stroke it.”

You did. Sliding a hand into his pants, you gripped him firmly in your hand and gently ran your fingers up and down his tip, more teasing than anything solid.

Spencer didn't complain, though, knowing he wouldn't last that long if you took your job as seriously as he was about to take his.

“Spread your legs. Now.”

You weren't sure what it was about his tone, but you complied easily. His fingers reached out, and he almost sent up a prayer as his fingers came into contact with your wet, heat. You were so aroused.

“Did you dream about me? Earlier in the car?” He questioned, two fingers slipping easily inside your pussy as his thumb traced your clit.

“Y-Yes.”

“Did you think about me in the shower?”

“Spencer, I can expl-”

“Answer me. Please.”

“Yes.”

“You were touching yourself thinking about me, knowing I could hear just how much of a slut you were through these walls. You wanted this, Y/N.”

He increased his pace as your eyes clouded over, your already sleepy countenance looking decidedly more ready for release and rest.

But he wasn't in a giving mood.

“What an impolite little whore,” he whispered in your ear, withdrawing his hands completely and picking himself up from the floor.

Your eyes shot open in confusion and pain as he sat himself on the edge of the bed. You watched his movements, saw him pull his still erect cock from his pants and begin stroking himself, and quickly organised your limps into a kneeling position by his feet.

He watched you closely as you let your head fall onto his thigh, your eyes following each pump of his hand up and down, and up and down.

“Spencer, please fuck me,” you pleaded with him, trying to resist the temptation to wrap your legs around his and hump his leg like a real bitch in heat. Though he'd probably greatly enjoy the view.

“Why should I?”

“Because if you don't, I'm going to sit here and finger myself until I pass out from exhaustion. And then I'm going to request a room with you on every other case this year and do it all over again.”

“You're manipulative, you know that?”

“I just know what I want, Spencer.”

“Then come and take it.”

Though he told you to come to him, it was his hand on your neck that guided you to your place in his lap.

It was his hand on his cock that lined himself up with your cunt. It was his hips that snapped up into yours as he finally took you.

But it was your lips that screamed his name as he fucked you roughly.

Each thrust was most intense than the last, deeper, harder, faster.

You clawed at his hair, you bit his bottom lip when your mouths Mey again. You clawed your nails across his shoulders and back.

He pressed you back into the mattress, and you wrapped your legs around him one more time, urging him to stay right there for the rest of the night.

His hands found your breasts, and he grabbed them again, roughly.

It was finally too much, and, as he pinched down on your nipple hard to see that beautiful mix of pleasure and pain one more time, you came around his cock, heat spreading out of you in waves as your thighs twitched under the weight of sheathing him.

“I'm going to cum, Y/N, I'm going to cum,” he dragged his teeth across your neck, whispering the words like a prayer.

You couldn't reply, mouth so heavy with lust your tongue couldn't move if his wasn't forcing it.

“I'm going to cum inside you,” he whispered again, his voice a growl of pleasure as your eyes shot open again.

All you could do was moan his name as he painted your cunt white, pressing his entire weight down on you without a care in the world.

You remained locked in that embrace for a long moment, your body tired and brain similarly diminished. Trusting him to take care of things, you let your eyes droop closed and let sleep consume you.

Your last thought was on his weight still pressed into yours, and the fact that he was still yet to pull out of you and spill his well-placed seed.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n

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buccini555 · 6 months

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𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: "𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮"

⁀➴ Them reacting to you saying "I hate you" after an argument

⌕ H e a d c a n o n s !

ᶻ 𝗓ᵎ 𝐹𝑡. Ran Haitani, Rindou Haitani, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Kakucho Hitto, Izana Kurokawa, Shinichiro Sano, Inui Seishu and Kokonoi Hajime

𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢

Ran would be surprised and immediately remain completely silent, he would ignore you and look at you with a look of utter disappointment.

"So that's it? You hate me? Okay, just leave me." He would say in a serious tone, pretending not to be hurt in a certain way and would definitely shrug his shoulders, ignoring you after your spoke.

"Think better before you take out your stupid anger on me, understood?" Ran wouldn't listen to your apologies or any other speech coming from you, he would remain rude to you for a long period of time and would certainly become even more absent.

𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢

Momentarily, Rindou just wouldn't take your sentence seriously, despite that, that doesn't mean that hearing those words didn't hurt him in some way.

"You have to control your fucking emotions before you say something you'll regret later." Immediately, Rindou would respond to your speech, looking away and shaking his head in denial, it was undeniable that Rindou was totally disappointed with such an attitude coming from you.

"... Leave me alone." He would ask politely before he lost control with you and worsened the current situation between the two of you.

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨

Haruchiyo would ignore you talk, or at least try to ignore it, hearing you say that you sincerely hated him broke his heart, but he would never show any feelings about it.

"I'm not going to stand here and listen to you talk shit." Sanzu wouldn't hesitate to leave to avoid even more confusion, he honestly didn't intend to end up losing control with you.

"...You've already hurt me enough." It would be the last thing Haruchiyo would say to you before walking away, even if you apologized or wanted him to stay, Sanzu would ignore you, even if he didn't want to, he would leave you for a while.

𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨

Kakucho always did his best to avoid fights and would never say rude things to you, when he heard you say that you hated him, the taller felt his world collapse at the same moment, despite everything, Kakucho hid how sensitive he was, but, at that moment, all he could do was cry.

"I-I'm sorry for making you hate me, I never wanted that..." As soon as he calmed down a little, he would say completely disappointed in having let things get to this state.

After this fact, Kakucho would remain hurt for a long time, no matter how much he understood you or accepted your apology, he would continue to feel that feeling of not feeling loved and being unable to make someone really love him.

𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚

Izana would be deeply hurt and disbelieve your words, as soon as he heard you, he would laugh nervously, but as soon as he realized how serious your words were, the smile would give way to a serious expression.

"I hate myself too, do you think I would really be affected by your stupid hatred for me?" Izana would say, screaming, he wouldn't even be able to look at you, he would just remain brooding away inside because he thought that, in a way, he had caused such behavior in you.

"Since you hate me, go ahead! Leave! Leave me like everyone else did!" It would be Izana's final speech, he really wouldn't accept your apology.

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨

Shinichiro would look at you with a look of disapproval and sadness, he wouldn't even be able to believe what he was hearing.

"... You hate me?" He would say, still in denial, the fight would end instantly, Shinichiro wouldn't even want to hear you anymore, he would really believe those words and that would hurt.

"I would never say something like that to you, never! Do you know the pain of hearing that? You'll never know that." After completing his speech, it would take you a while to see him again, Shinichiro would definitely leave you there, alone, because he was hurt and also to get away from all those fights.

𝐈𝐧𝐮𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐮

He would be completely disbelieved in your statement even though he knew that the fight was becoming unbearable, he really didn't expect that from you.

"Y-you hate me?" He would question, with teary eyes and a trembling and low voice, as soon as you finished speaking, Inupi would immediately look away and try to hide how much it affected him.

"I'm sorry for making you hate me, it won't happen again." Before you could say anything or apologize, Inui would say, walking away and going to be alone for a while, at that moment, he would believe your words, making him feel guilty for not being able to avoid all that fight.

After a while of trying to convince himself that you just said that in a moment of anger, Inui would try to forget the whole mess.

𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞

Kokonoi would be silent as soon as you made your speech, hearing you say that you hate him would really hurt him, despite that, Koko wouldn't show how sad and disappointed he would feel, on the contrary, he would act as if nothing had happened.

"You hate me? Okay, I'll remember that." He would say in the calmest tone he could and give a wry smile.

"I'm sorry, but I can't say the same to you." Kokonoi would walk away from you and not say anything else after that, ignoring any apology or anything like that, deep down, he would honestly be holding himself back from crying.

Even if everything was fine, Koko would definitely hold a certain grudge against you, moreover, he would start to think that you really hate him, making him become a little cold and distant.

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