#Everyone loves being hunted and hunting. That's what tag is all about. This is just tag with swords.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

you cannot tease wei wuxian and hua cheng hunting for funsies and not show that to us??? it has to go one of two ways right? either an absolute visious blood bath where everyone cowers in fear or the equivalent of a teenage girl's slumber party. both??? both.

Hunting each other for sport is the keystone to a fun slumber party

[pedrospatch]

run

Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader

*moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only. no mention of reader’s race or skin tone.

summary: When you’re given the chance to run from your captor, you don’t take it.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. MENTIONS PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). reader is described washing her hair (the exact length is not specified) and she wears a dress. she is also shorter than Joel. violence, kidnapping, reader has major stockholm syndrome, Joel is fairly soft for her but HE IS STILL NOT A GOOD MAN, brief mention of Tess and Joel being involved with each other, Tess seems like the villain but she might actually be the only one of these three who is not totally fucked up in the head. SMUT. daddy kink. size difference (no description of reader’s body type, Joel is just a big guy with a big dick, enjoy it). oral sex (female receiving), super risky unprotected p in v sex (mention of reader ovulating, Joel pulls out, don’t be be like these two, practice safe sex), creampie (yeah he doesn’t give a fuck the second time around). many, many pet names (baby, baby girl, honey, angel, sweetheart, little girl). um i think that’s it. oh, and they fuck in the dirt.

PLEASE HEED ALL WARNINGS.

word count: 8.6k

a/n: one thing about me is i WILL soften up EVERY version of Joel Miller to my little heart’s content. HUGE HUGE thank you to @endlessthxxghts and @joelsdagger for lending me their eyes and beta-ing this fic for me last night. <33 i love and appreciate you guys SO MUCH. i loved seeing you both in the doc at the same exact time lmao. this can be read as a standalone, but it is considered part of the captive universe.

Everyone in the group has a job. Except for you.

Or at least, that’s what you hear them say.

That bitch doesn’t do shit.

She never has to lift a fucking finger.

She should work for her meal—just like the rest of us.

Bitterness laces their tones when they talk about you.

Insults grow a little bolder when he’s not around.

Useless.

Freeloader.

Leech.

You might not be out there with a rifle in hand hunting game or invading camps and spilling blood for supplies—but you do in fact have a job, and that job is to make Joel Miller happy. It is your responsibility, your duty, to please him, and to keep him satisfied. Because keeping him satisfied keeps him in a good mood, and one thing you’ve come to learn about your captor is, where there is a good mood, often there is mercy.

Hell, you’re doing them a favor by keeping their violent, fearsome leader in a good mood. Because you’ve seen what he does to them when he’s not. He can be just as brutal towards his own people as he is to strangers.

It doesn’t make a difference, though. They still see you as nothing more than his coddled little whore.

“Fuck, that’s it.”

He groans, his thick, callused fingers digging harshly into the softness of your flesh as he holds you firmly in place underneath him. “Oh fuck, baby girl,” Joel curses through gritted teeth, his hands gripping your hips as he uses his own weight against you, pressing you down into the old mattress until you feel every uncomfortable lump, each creaking spring.

While he isn’t fucking you as roughly as he has on other occasions, he’s hardly being gentle. It’s hard, fast.

Loud.

Joel couldn’t care less about the rest of the group, the men and women on the other side of the wall, forced to listen to the sounds coming from the single bedroom of the cabin he decided they would hunker down in for the remainder of the summer season. Strings of curses and brutish grunts that came rumbling from deep within his chest, pleading gasps and whimpers that fell from your swollen, bitten lips. If anything, knowing they were listening only spurred him on—it didn’t hurt to remind them, especially the men with wandering eyes, that you were his special girl.

His good girl.

You certainly did your job, and you did it so, so well.

“Christ, sweetheart. M’so fuckin’ close—” Joel picks up speed, his hips snapping even harder, faster, the front of his thighs slapping against the backs of yours. Each thrust causes the bed’s rusted, iron headboard to slam violently against the wood panel wall.

You clutch fistfuls of the single, stale, yellowing sheet beneath you, each stroke he delivers knocking the wind out of your lungs, making it harder to breathe. He is so heavy on top of you, this big, broad, bulk of a man who makes you feel swallowed, smothered, and small. Joel takes up so much room inside of you, and it’s a wonder how you could possibly have any space left to spare.

It’s a fullness you can’t seem to get enough of.

It’s a craving, a need.

Worst of all, it’s slowly becoming a want.

“Daddy,” you choke out, fisting the sheet tighter, your skin stretching taut over your knuckles. Can the others also hear the squelch of your drenched cunt around his cock as it begs him for more?

“Fuck. You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, baby,” Joel croons his praise. His hands abandon your hips and he hunches over you, his thrusts momentarily ceasing. He crushes his chest against your sweaty, quivering back and leans forward even further, bracing his large hands on either side of you. Then, his lips move to the shell of your ear and he speaks, his breath blazing hot on your skin. “Y’take me so well, honey. Y’take Daddy’s cock so fuckin’ well. This pretty little pussy was fuckin’ made for me. She was made jus’ for me—ain’t that right, angel?”

He’s right.

Oh, how you fucking hated that he was right.

It was made for him. Your cunt. Your body. You.

Every part of you was made for him, and only for him.

All you can do is nod dumbly in agreement.

“Say it,” Joel whispers his firm command. “Wanna hear you say it. Be a good girl and use your words. Say it, say this pussy is made for me.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan obediently, prompting him to grin against your ear. “My pussy is made for you, just—just for you. No one—no one else. Only you.” Could this really be the same voice that would break, grow hoarse from screaming for him to stop? The same voice that would beg and plead for him to set you free?

Jutting his hips forward, Joel buries himself to the hilt, eliciting a noise from you, something caught between a pained whimper and a contented sigh. His balls, heavy and full for you, rest on your clit, which is still sensitive to the touch after he’d spent a majority of the morning with his head buried in between your legs. Desiring yet another release, you try wriggling around beneath him in a silent plea for more. More, more, more.

Please, Daddy. More.

Joel’s grin widens. He places one of his hands on your soft lower belly, fingers dragging down the slope of it until he finds the slick swell of your seam between your legs where his girth splits you open. “Ready, baby?”

Nodding, you open your mouth to answer him, but the sound of your own groan cuts you off when his fingers firmly circle around your throbbing, swollen bud. “Oh,” you breathe, instantly sinking right into his touch. Your eyes screw shut tightly in pleasure, and you throw your head back onto his shoulder. The scruff of his beard is rough on your cheek, and it burns, the same way it had burned the tender flesh of your inner thighs.

His hips find their rhythm as you rub against his hand—you’re almost there. He knows this, you can tell by the chuckle that thunders in his chest and against your back. But you’re too busy chasing your pleasure to be embarrassed.

He’s made you a needy, greedy girl.

“Daddy,” you mewl, trying your hardest to move under him, to work your cunt up and down on his cock. “I’m gonna come—” You gasp, back arching as Joel strokes in and out, his fingers rubbing your clit with urgency.

Joel plants a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek. “Give it to me, baby,” he grunts. “C’mon. Lemme feel her squeeze me.”

Feeling how close he is too, you try to hold on for just a little bit longer, at least long enough to finish with him, but Joel’s relentless, and you’re forced off of the ledge you’re both standing on first.

Crying out, your walls spasm around him, asking to be filled until he’s made a complete mess out of you, until white leaks, and it slowly dribbles down the insides of your trembling thighs.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel rasps. He lifts himself off you and he pulls out, taking his throbbing cock in his hand. His chest heaves as he fists himself, the wet sound of your slick in his palm filling the room. “Down,” he grits, and you obey him, lowering down yourself on the mattress until you’re lying almost completely flat before him. He gives himself one final stroke just as you look over your shoulder at him, the gentle flutter of your eyelashes the last push he needs. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck—” Joel spills his load, shooting thick ropes of warm cum along the soft curve of your spine.

You rest your cheek on your folded arms, biting back a small sigh.

He’s left behind an ache—you feel painfully empty.

But it was Tess, who had been given the task of helping you track your menstrual cycle, that had given him the warning earlier that morning. “She’s ovulating. Don’t be a fucking idiot, Joel. Last thing we need is for her to—”

“Relax,” he’d gruffed in response. “I fuckin’ know.”

Spent, Joel hunches over you once more and he lightly kisses the top of your head before burying his nose into your hair. “Good girl,” he murmurs. Affection that once was unwelcome and unwanted, that once made you feel sick to your fucking stomach, now makes you feel something else entirely. You’re not quite sure what it is, only that it’s warm. Comforting. “Y’did so well for me, sweetheart. Always do.”

Your lips curl into a faint, tired smile he doesn’t see.

A while later, you find yourself perched on the bed with the sheet wrapped around you, quietly watching as he gets dressed. “Daddy?” you say tentatively as he drops into a nearby chair to pull on his boots.

“What is it, baby girl?”

“Do you—do you think we can go to the creek today?”

Joel finishes lacing his boots and looks up at you.

“I’d really like to wash up,” you admit, softly. That, and you would like to see the light of day. He’d boarded up the windows with slabs of wood—sometimes, if you’re lucky, you get some decent light seeping through the teeny gaps.

“Not today, honey. I’ve got some things to take care of. Supplies are low, we gotta do a run. Don’t have the time to take you.” He stands and picks up his rifle, slinging the strap of it over his shoulder. Noticing the crestfallen expression on your face, Joel’s eyes soften. He walks over and gingerly cups the side of your face in his palm. His thumb strokes your cheek. “Promise I’ll take you to the creek tomorrow, sweetheart. First thing. Alright?”

Nodding, your eyes fall to your hands in your lap.

“Okay.”

Joel kisses your forehead, then leaves the room.

He makes sure to lock the door from the outside, and you can’t help but wonder if he knows locking you in is no longer necessary.

“I can take her.”

Joel’s dark eyes remain focused on the state map laid out on the table in front of him. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about, Tess?” He sees her in his periphery, but is too busy figuring out the group’s best route to look her way.

“I heard her asking you to take her to the creek so she can bathe,” she tells him. “I can take her.”

Finally, his head snaps up and he turns to her. “What?”

Tess leans her hip against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. “You and Tommy can take the group, go and take care of what you have to take care of. I’ll stay behind and take her down to the creek,” she suggests casually, as if she’s not asking him to trust her with his most prized possession—the only damn thing on what was left of this fucking earth Joel Miller actually gives a shit about. “Once she’s washed up, I’ll bring her back to the cabin and put her back into the room. Easy.”

Joel stares at her, bewildered. “What makes you think I’d fuckin’ allow somethin’ like that?”

“Oh, come on.” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Anytime I bitch about having to do something for that girl, you’re on my fucking case about it, and now that I’m offering to do something for her, you don’t wanna let me?”

He shakes his head and lowers his voice. “You’re talkin’ about takin’ her outside, Tess. Without me.”

“The creek’s just a mile away,” Tess reminds him. “I’m pretty sure I can handle getting her there and back with no trouble, Joel.” When he says nothing, she cocks her head to the side and scoffs. “What? You don’t trust me enough to take her under my wing for a couple hours?”

Joel’s lips pull into a tight line. 

Of course he does. Tess was his right hand woman, his second in command.

He trusted her more than his own fucking brother. She had never given him any reason not to, had never given him a reason to doubt her loyalty to him. No, his lack of trust has nothing to do with Tess—but everything to do with you. He doesn’t trust you. He will never trust you.

“What if she tries to—?” He can’t even say it.

“Tries to what?” She pauses. “Run?”

His throat goes dry and he gives her a subtle nod.

Joel Miller was a bad man who did bad things, but you were his good. You’ve brought back some meaning into this wretched life of his, gave him something that felt a lot like a sense of purpose. You were something for him to take care of, to keep safe and protect.

Tess raises an eyebrow at him. “You think I’d even give her the chance? Besides, the girl’s not that stupid, Joel. She knows better than to try anything. She knows she wouldn’t get very fucking far.”

“Tess—”

“I’m just trying to do something nice for her. Besides, I think it might do her some good to be in the company of someone else for once—the company of a woman.”

Joel peers at her, taking a minute to think it over in his mind before asking, “You’ll have her back in the room before I get back to the cabin?”

“Long before then,” she swears. “All in one piece.”

He hesitates. He’s still not sure.

It’s then that he remembers that disappointed look on your sweet, pretty little face. “Alright,” he relents with a deep sigh. “I trust you, Tess.”

It always feels a bit strange to be outside.

But being outside without Joel?

It feels even stranger.

When he’d walked back into the room and told you Tess was willing to take you to the creek, the news had taken you by complete surprise. When he said he was willing to let her take you, that you almost couldn’t believe. It hadn’t even sunk in until the three of you stood outside the cabin and he was kissing your forehead sweetly in a temporary goodbye before turning to Tess.

“Never take your eyes off her,” he’d instructed her.

“She’ll behave.” She had smiled at you as she pulled her pistol from the waistband of her jeans, the gleam of the silver barrel catching your eye. “Isn’t that right?”

Swallowing dryly, you had answered with a strained, “Of course.”

She’s the last fucking person you wanted to cross. She was almost as terrifying as Joel, if not more.

“Tess? W-Where are we going?” you ask as you trudge along behind her, hoping you don’t sound as winded as you feel. Although you had no way to keep track of the time, it felt like you’d been trekking for at least an hour. Your feet are starting to hurt in your shoes—old, worn, yellow canvas sneakers that certainly weren’t made for hiking. “I don’t remember the creek being this far from the cabin.”

Tess snorts. “Don’t tell me you’re tired already.”

“It’s just—we’ve been walking for a really long time.”

She glances over her shoulder at you. “Here I thought you would be a little fucking grateful to be out getting some fresh air,” she chuckles, shaking her head before turning her attention back to the path ahead.

“I am,” you squeak, stumbling over a fallen branch.

Silence falls over the both of you.

“We’re not going to the creek,” Tess finally speaks after a minute. “I’m taking you somewhere else. Somewhere even better. Just trust me, kid. Now hurry up.”

It takes another hour before you reach your destination, and you hear it before you can even see it, a humming sound that turns into buzzing the closer you get. Then, you feel it, a vibration in the rocks beneath your feet. “Is that a—?” Stepping around her, your mouth falls open in absolute awe at the sight before you.

The waterfall is nestled right in between the trees and surges over the rocky mountain, throwing up bubbles of spray as it plunges into the lake at the bottom, and from there, it foams into a thick, white lather at the base. On the bank, where you stand, you spot different types of vegetation you couldn’t identify even if you tried—all you know is that it’s green, and it’s beautiful.

“This is incredible,” you gasp.

“Way better than some little creek, huh?” Tess tucks her pistol into the waistband of her jeans and shrugs off her pack. She digs around in the front pocket and pulls out something wrapped in a piece of crumpled brown tissue paper. She hands it to you. “Here.”

“What’s this?”

“Well, if you’d fucking open it, you would know,” Tess rolls her eyes. “It’s my last piece of soap. It’s all yours.”

Her kind generosity comes as a surprise—usually, Tess wanted nothing to do with you. But you don’t question it, and you certainly don’t turn the rare luxury down.

“Thanks,” you say, shooting her a grateful look.

Tess nods towards the body of water. “Alright, then. Go on and get to it.”

You take the piece of soap out the tissue. The scent of lavender is faint, but still very much there. Joel will like the smell of it on your skin tonight, you think.

As you start to pull the strap of your cotton blue dress down your shoulder, you feel her gaze fixed intently on you. Heat rushes to your cheeks. “Uh, aren’t you going to turn around?”

“For fuck’s sake,” she scoffs. “I’ve got what you’ve got. Now hurry up, we don’t have all fucking day.”

Nodding, you peel off your dress and underwear, your face on fire as the older woman’s eyes slowly drag over your naked body. Carefully, you step off the bank and wade into the water. It’s so clear that you can count the pebbles underneath your feet.

Leaning against a nearby tree, Tess calls out, “You have ten minutes! And stay out of the waterfall! Last thing I need is for you to fucking drown.”

As she lights a cigarette, you can’t help but stare at her. Her features, though worn down after the hell she had been through trying to survive the post outbreak world, are beautiful. Big, dark green eyes, a perfect nose, and full, pouty lips. There’s never been a doubt in your mind that she and Joel have been involved with one another, and lately, the mere thought of anything between them made you uncomfortable.

It’s an odd sensation deep in your gut—jealousy?

But what were you jealous of? Her having had him first?

It shouldn’t matter to you, but it does. Insecurities you have never in your life felt before seep into your bones.

“Anyone ever tell you it’s fucking rude to stare?” Tess quips, raising an eyebrow at you. She shoves her lighter into the back pocket of her jeans.

Nervously, you sink lower into the water, nibbling the inside of your cheek. “Tess? Can I ask you something?”

“What could you possibly fucking want to ask me?”

You hesitate.

“How—how long have you known each other?”

“Who?” Tess plucks the cigarette from between her lips and flicks the ashes. “Me and Joel?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

She shrugs. “Don’t know. Six, seven years?”

“How did you two meet?”

“Long story that’s none of your fucking business.”

You ask your next question before you lose your nerve. “Have you two ever—?” Unsure of how to phrase it, you stop and clamp your mouth shut in instant regret.

“Have we ever what?” Tess studies your face, and she quickly realizes what you’re trying to ask her. “You’re seriously asking me if me and Joel have ever fucked?”

Biting your bottom lip, you glance down into the water at your feet. You honestly don’t expect her to answer, so when she does, you look back up at her in surprise.

“Yeah.” She takes a long drag from her cigarette, then adds, “Few times.”

Something unpleasant claws at your insides. “You two were together? Like a couple?”

“Something like that,” Tess mutters, flicking her ashes once more.

“What happened?”

She looks at you, pausing before answering, “You.”

Oh.

Before you can utter another word, Tess snaps, “Quit asking so many goddamn fucking questions and finish up washing. You’ve got eight minutes left.”

Not wanting to push your luck further than you already have, you do as she tells you in complete silence.

You lather up the soap in your hands, washing your hair first, and then your face and body, using your hands to scrub yourself as best as you can. Between the calming scent of the soap, the soothing sound of the waterfall, and the warm afternoon sun, you find yourself relaxing. You try to clear your mind, live in this peaceful moment which you very well may never get again, but your mind begins to wander.

And it wanders straight to Joel.

Closing your eyes, you can’t help but picture him here, standing behind you in the lake. You can almost feel his hands on you, long, thick fingers lathered with lavender soap, sliding down your body. His lips at your neck, he cups your breasts in his hands, rolling his thumbs over your hardened nipples until your head lulls, falling back onto his shoulder. Joel drags his hands further down, over your stomach, going lower and lower towards the place where you need them the most. “Yeah, baby?” he murmurs into your neck, dipping one of them between your legs until you are, quite literally, in the palm of his hand. “This where y’need me?”

Breathless, you respond, “It’s where I want you.”

Suddenly, your eyes snap open.

There is a wetness between your thighs, one that has nothing to do with the fact that you’re standing waist-deep in the middle of a lake. You shake those thoughts away and finish washing yourself.

“Time’s up,” Tess calls. She meets you on the bank with a dry rag. “Here.”

The rag doesn’t exactly cover much surface area, but you dry yourself off as best you can before tugging on your underwear and slipping on your dress. Just as you crouch down to slip your shoes on, she tosses her pack and it lands in front of you with a soft thud.

Confused, you glance up at her.

“There’s about a week’s worth of jerky in there. Longer, if you know how to ration,” Tess explains, calmly. “And a canteen for water. I also packed you a flashlight and a pocket knife. It’s not much, but—”

Frowning, you rise to your feet. “What are you talking about, Tess? What’s going on? Why are you giving me your pack?”

“Because I’m giving you a chance, kid.”

A feeling of dread pools in the pit of your stomach.

“A chance to what?”

“Run.”

Your heart stutters a beat. “Run?”

“He’ll come looking for you. You need to get as far away from here as possible. Run away, as far as you can, and don’t fucking look back.”

All you can do is stare at her in shocked silence.

“I can help you get a head start,” Tess offers, quietly. “I can show you which direction to go in and put you on a path leading to the closest state highway—”

“But what if I don’t want to run?”

Tess places her hands on her hips, and she exhales an incredulous laugh. “Jesus,” she breathes, shaking her head in pity. “He’s really got you fucking brainwashed, doesn’t he?”

You glare at her. “I am not brainwashed, Tess.”

“You’ve gotta be if you’re telling me you wanna go back to him.”

“Tess—”

She cuts you off. “He gave the order to raid your camp and kill your people,” she reminds you. “He fucking slit your father’s throat right in front of you, then took you as his prisoner. He made you his fucking sex slave.”

“He takes care of me! He feeds me, makes sure I have a bed to sleep in no matter where we are. He keeps me safe. He—he cares about me.” You will your voice not to tremble as you stand your ground. “No. I’m not running away, Tess. I want to go back.”

Tess sighs. “You’re really not gonna make this easy, are you?”

“Take me back,” you all but demand, your hands curled into the least menacing little fists she had ever seen in her life at your sides. “Take me back to the cabin—take me back to him, Tess. I mean it.”

Amused, she huffs through her nose. “Or else what?”

“You can’t make me run away, Tess.” As you take a step towards her, she reaches behind her and swiftly whips out her pistol from the waistband of her jeans. You halt, freezing in fear when she aims the barrel of the gun at your chest.

“Actually, I can,” she says, her finger hovering over the trigger. “So here’s how this is gonna go. I’m gonna walk away now. And if you even think about following me, or trying to find your way back to the group, you will die.” She tosses you a tiny, wry smile. “Believe it or not, I’m doing you a real big favor, kid. Problem is, he’s got you so fucked in the head that you can’t see it.”

“Tess, please,” you plead. “Don’t do this to me!”

She begins to back away. “Remember when you’d say that to him? How you’d beg him not to do those things to you every night? Beg him to let you go?”

“Please, just take me back to him!”

You start to follow her.

“You take one more fucking step and I’ll shoot you,” she threatens, her eyes darkening. “Don’t think I won’t.”

Tess keeps her pistol pointed at you until she slips into the trees and disappears, abandoning you in the middle of the forest.

He’s furious. Livid.

Joel paces back and forth on the porch.

“Where the fuck are they?”

The old, rotting wood that wraps all the way around the cabin creaks, and certain softer spots bend and buckle, threatening to give way beneath his heavy boots. Joel’s younger brother leans against the railing, which is just as fragile, an unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.

“Christ, Joel. Can you fuckin’ relax?” Tommy grumbles, fishing around in his back pocket for his lighter. “You’re gonna bring the whole damn cabin down if ya don’t cut that shit out.” He sparks a flame and lights the filtered end of the cigarette. He takes a long drag, and exhales the smoke through his nose. “You’re gettin’ worked up over nothin’, brother.”

“S’almost sundown, and they’re still not fuckin’ back.” Joel shakes his head. “Fuckin’ knew I shouldn’t have let Tess take her. Somethin’ happened, Tommy. I just know it.” He lifts his shirt and reaches for his pistol, pulling it from the waistband of his jeans. “M’gonna head to the creek myself to find ‘em. Ain’t gonna sit around on my goddamn hands and wait for it to get fuckin’ dark.”

“She’s with Tess. M’sure the girl’s fine—” Tommy stops, his eyes widening slightly. “Well, hell.”

“What?”

Tommy jerks his chin over Joel’s shoulder before taking another slow, casual drag of his cigarette. He savors the last few seconds of peace before shit inevitably hits the fan and his brother unleashes his wrath on anything, or anyone, in his path.

Joel whips around and his stomach sinks, his blood ice in his veins when he sees Tess approaching the cabin. Alone.

Both his mind and body go numb. It’s a jarring shock to his nervous system, and it takes him a minute or two to fully process the fact that you’re not with her.

“Joel,” Tess says his name carefully as he descends the porch steps and walks towards her. “I need you to take a breath, alright?”

“Where—where is she?” His voice breaks, his weakness momentarily slipping through the cracks.

Not that Tess didn’t already know you were Joel Miller’s weakness, his soft white underbelly, the only vulnerable part of his hardened self that could be penetrated—you would have been his downfall. As much as she’d like to say she did what she did solely for your own good, she also did it for his, and for the sake of the group as a whole.

It needed to be done.

He stands in front of her, a ticking time bomb about to go off.

Prepared to face whatever consequences of the choice she had made, Tess tucks her gun away and sighs. “You need to take a breath—”

Joel snatches her arm, his fingers digging into the flesh above her elbow. His emotions hit him all at once.

Fear, worry, anger. It’s the third that takes precedence, and before Tess can utter another word, Joel yanks her forward. She crashes against his chest so hard that it knocks the wind out of her. “Where the fuck is she?” He leans down, his nostrils flaring as he brings their faces the closest they have been in almost a year.

“Joel, take a fucking breath—”

“Where. Is. She.” His grip on her arm tightens with each word he bites out through his teeth. He’s vaguely aware the others have piled out of the cabin, gathering on the porch to watch the altercation.

“She ran,” Tess explains, calmly. She doesn’t falter, not even as his fingers sink deeper into her skin, promising her painful bruises which will take days to fade away. If he decided to let her live. “She ran away, Joel. I turned my back for one fucking second and she was gone. She even took my fucking pack. I tried going after her, but it was no use. She was too fast.”

Behind him, Tommy snorts. “She outran you?”

Her eyes momentarily flicker to him. “Her knees are a lot younger than mine,” she replies, flatly.

“Which direction did she go in?” Joel demands. When Tess doesn’t immediately respond, he shouts, “Which fucking direction!”

Tess manages to snatch her arm out of his grasp. She glowers at him, hissing, “What the hell does it matter which direction she went? You won’t fucking find her.”

His eyes meet hers, and he sees it. Feels it.

She’s lying to him.

“Tess.” Joel’s voice drops dangerously low. He studies her face, his brows creasing with suspicion. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do shit, Joel. She fucking ran away.”

Without warning, Joel takes her by her throat. His other hand brings his pistol to her head, shoving the barrel of it against her temple. His nose touches hers. “Now, tell me why I have the feelin’ you’re not tellin’ me the whole truth?”

Tess lifts her chin. She searches his eyes, a sharp ache shooting through her. After everything, all the hell they had been through together—he would end her life, put a bullet in her because of you? Did she mean that little to him?

Or maybe she’d never meant anything to him at all?

She’s not sure which stings more.

“Because you’ve fucking deluded yourself into thinking that she willingly wants anything to do with you,” Tess finally answers. “That’s why.”

He ignores the burn of her scorching words.

“Where the fuck is she, Tess?”

“If she’s smart, she’s far away from here by now,” she hisses. “I did everyone a fucking favor, Joel. That girl is just another fucking mouth to feed. And what if you get her pregnant? That’ll be another one. Not to mention, a crying baby could draw unwanted attention and get us all killed. Ever thought about that? She’s not an asset to the group, she’s a fucking liability. Besides, I think I can speak for everyone when I say we’re all fucking tired of hearing you ra—”

Joel digs the barrel harder into her temple, his finger hovering over the trigger. “Listen to me. You’ve got ten seconds to tell me where she is, y’understand me?”

“Or what? You’ll blow my brains out?” Foolishly, Tess chooses to call his bluff despite not knowing for certain whether or not he’ll actually pull the trigger. “Go ahead, then. Kill me, Joel.”

His finger twitches over the trigger, but he doesn’t pull it. He can’t fucking pull it. Not on her. Not on Tess.

Still in his hands, she sags slightly in relief.

Swallowing harshly, Joel Miller lowers his gun and does something she’s never seen him do before. He begs.

“Tess, tell me where she is,” he whispers. His pleading is subtle, and only she can hear it. “Please—just fuckin’ tell me where my girl is.”

Tess stands her ground and says nothing.

Releasing her, Joel shoves her aside and with nothing but his gun in his hand, he sets off to find you.

“Ow, fuck!”

You gasp, quickly lifting your bare foot off the ground.

You’d stepped on something sharp—a stick, or maybe a rock?

In a desperate attempt to try and keep up with Tess’ tracks, you had stupidly left behind your shoes back at the waterfall. But the mere seconds you had spared by not stopping to put your shoes on hadn’t given you the advantage you thought it would. She had moved much too fast, and within minutes, you’d become helplessly, hopelessly lost. Every tree and every bush, they all look exactly the same, and for all you know, you’ve probably been going around in fucking circles for the past couple of hours in your search for her footprints in the dirt.

Sagging against the trunk of a nearby tree, you take a minute to try and catch your breath, to give your poor little feet a break from hiking over fallen branches and jagged stones.

Your head falls back, eyes gazing through the canopy of trees. Dusk has settled in, and nightfall is on its heels. It was foolish of you to leave behind your shoes, but even more so to leave behind the pack she had given you—in the pack were all the things meant to help you survive. Knife, flashlight, food.

Sure, you can survive a night out here in the wilderness without any of those things—but then what? Come dawn, what do you do? Where do you go? Do you just stumble around in the woods and hope for the best? Pray you’ll make it onto a highway with signs that will point you to a quarantine zone?

Hell, maybe you’re overestimating yourself. Maybe you wouldn’t survive long enough to worry about your next move. Howls in the distance remind you there’s wildlife out here, dangerous predators that come out after dark in search of their next meal. Or what about infected? It wasn’t unheard of for them to veer off the highway and lose themselves in the trees.

You recall your first few weeks in Joel Miller’s hands.

Escaping them was all you could ever think about, even though the chances of you surviving alone were slim to none, just like they are now. Never having been on your own, death would have been inevitable—but back then, in your darkest moments in captivity, you wished for it. You’d welcomed the idea of starving, freezing, or being torn apart limb from limb by an entire hoard of clickers. At least then, you’d die with your freedom.

Almost a year later, that wish has been granted.

You’re free.

You may very well die, but you would die free.

Closing your eyes, you think about Joel. His arms, that once held you down—held you still—as he did all those things to you without your consent, are arms your heart yearns to have wrapped around you, holding you close.

“Jesus,” you grit, a tear rolling down your cheek.

Maybe Tess had been right. Maybe he really does have you fucked in the head.

Joel was a monster. He had taken everything from you, including your innocence. He’d defiled you in ways you hadn’t known were possible. He was a terrible, terrible man.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you fed.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you warm.

A terrible, terrible man who kept you safe.

Another tear slides down the side of your face. What is fucking wrong with you?

You don’t know. But what you do know is, the thought of never seeing Joel again is somehow more terrifying to you than the thought of dying even the most brutal of deaths.

A loud rustling sound brings your train of thought to an immediate, sudden halt, and your eyes wrench open.

It’s darker now, but you manage to catch a movement in the shrubs, only mere feet in front of you. Panic flares in your chest, it rattles you to your very core, and even though every nerve in your body is urging you to move, you freeze, your back flush against the tree trunk. Your fingernails dig painfully into the bark as you watch the shrubs part down the middle, and a tall, hulking figure emerges with a heavy grunt.

At first, you think it’s just a figment of your imagination showing you what you wanted to see—a hallucination. Blinking furiously, you lightly shake your head, and then take another look at him. Your breath hitches when you realize it’s Joel.

He stares at you in the same manner, as if he’s trying to figure out if you’re real, or if his mind is playing a cruel, cruel trick on him. Feet cemented to the forest floor, he watches you take a small, tentative step towards him.

Once adamant that you’d never look him in the eye, you find your gaze locking directly with his as you carefully take another step closer. Then another, and another.

“Joel?” It’s the first time you’ve ever uttered his name.

He seems as taken aback hearing it as you are saying it.

“Joel.” It rolls off your tongue smoother, and with more ease the second time around.

It sparks a flame somewhere deep, deep inside of him, a fire that burns differently than those ignited by carnal desires.

No, this is something else entirely, and you feel it too.

“Baby?” he whispers hoarsely. “S’that really you?”

“Joel!” you cry, hurling yourself into his arms.

Joel’s gun falls from his hand and he curls them around you. Burying his nose into your hair, he inhales deeply. The scent of you, the feel of you—you’re fucking real.

Shuddering with sobs of relief, your arms wrap around his waist, and you cling to him as if you’re clinging onto dear, precious life itself.

“Hush now, s’alright,” Joel soothes, cradling the back of your head in one hand, while the rubs soft, calming circles into your back. “I’ve got you, honey. M’here.”

“I swear I didn’t want to run away,” you explain through your tears. “I begged her to take me back to you, Joel, I really did! But she left me out here—she said she would shoot me if I tried following her back. Please, you have to believe me, you just have to believe me!”

He squeezes you harder against his chest. “I do, baby. I do believe you,” he assures you. Pulling away, he takes a step backward and takes your face between his palms, peering at you in concern. “Y’hurt, sweetheart?”

“No,” you hiccup, curling your hands around his wrists. Your lower lip trembles. “I—I thought I’d never see you again. I was scared I wouldn’t,” you admit, softly.

Joel’s thumb wipes away a fresh tear. “M’here now,” he murmurs. “You’re with me, baby. You’re safe, alright?” As a late evening breeze passes through, he lets you go and shrugs out of his brown jacket. He goes to drape it around your shoulders, but you snatch it right out of his hands, then toss it aside.

Something in you snaps. You take fistfuls of his flannel, pulling him down towards you to do yet something else that takes you both by surprise—you initiate a kiss. You lean forward and press your lips to his, a little swipe of your tongue across his bottom lip as you clutch tighter at his shirt, holding him in place. Groaning, Joel opens his mouth more, his tongue brushing yours.

Liquid heat pools in your belly, and before you realize it, you’ve grown frantic, kissing him with fervor. Releasing his shirt, you slide your hands down his chest, over his stomach, lower and lower until you find his belt buckle. Desperate, you clumsily fumble with it, and that’s when Joel tears away from you, his breath hitching.

You’re begging before he can even say a word. “Please. I need you—I want you. Right now.”

You cup him through his jeans, and he exhales sharply.

“Fuck.” Without giving it a second thought, his hands reach for the straps of your dress, pushing them off of your shoulders. He roughly tugs at the material, letting it slip down your body until it falls around your feet. In a tangle of limbs and tongues, you both sink to the forest floor. Your hands brush his buckle, and he catches your wrists. “Not yet, baby girl. M’still in charge, alright?”

Sheepishly, you nod.

“Say it.” His command is firm, but somehow still gentle.

“You’re—you’re in charge.”

“Good girl.” Joel guides you onto your back. He’s over you in a second, swelling your lips with a hard, hungry kiss that leaves you dizzy and breathless. He moves his mouth, teeth scraping over your cheek and jaw, down to your neck where he nips at the tender, delicate flesh over your pulse point. Then, he bites his way over your collarbone and to your shoulder. “Bet she’s already wet for me,” he mumbles into your skin. “Ain’t she, baby?”

Pushing himself back onto his knees, he slides a finger over your clothed cunt, eliciting a small gasp from you. Hooking his fingers under the elastic waistband of your cotton underwear, he yanks the fabric down your legs. It catches on your foot, your wetness smearing against the inside of your ankle.

You’re drenched.

“C’mere,” Joel grunts, sliding his hands under your ass and pulling your hips over his thighs. He leans over you once more, your bare, throbbing cunt rubbing against the crotch of his jeans. He tuts lightly into your neck as you buck against him. “Such a fuckin’ needy little girl.”

Desperate, you try rolling your hips into his. “Joel.”

“Kinda like it when y’say my name.” He starts making his way down the length of your body. “Think I’ll like it even better when you’re screamin’ it. Won’t I, baby?”

Your stomach tightens as he nibbles his way down your neck again, teeth scraping over your clavicle and down your chest to your heaving tits. Taking one in his hand, the other goes into his mouth—his tongue is scorching hot over your nipple. He licks the pebbled flesh, sucks it and bites it while he rolls the other peak in between his thumb and index finger. “Oh fuck,” you gasp.

Releasing your breast with a wet pop, Joel sinks further down your body. He plants hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your tummy, leaving behind a trail of fire in their wake. He stops over your mound and hovers for a fraction of a second before pressing his nose into the silky soft curls there. Inhaling deeply, Joel picks up the subtle, herbal scent of the lavender soap you had washed yourself with. “Fuck, y’smell so fuckin’ good.”

He pushes your thighs open, pinning one to the ground with his hand while the other goes over his shoulder. Your foot slides down his back, toes curling despite the fact that he hasn’t even reached the spot where you’re aching to have him most. Heart thundering, your blood rushes, roaring in your ears.

Joel turns his head, his lips brushing your inner thigh in another kiss. “S’this where y’want me, honey?” he asks you. Goosebumps erupt over every inch of your skin as he draws closer, his breath like steam on your core. He glances up at you, his cock twitching against his zipper at the sight of you laying naked before him on the floor of the forest. Willing. Wanting. “Hm? Right here?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Joel.”

Thankfully, you only have to ask him once, and then his face is buried between your legs, and he is giving you what you want.

“Fuck!” you cry out. Back arching, your head tilts back until the crown of it meets the ground, leaves and twigs finding their way into your clean hair.

Joel’s tongue flattens over your cunt in a broad stroke, then dips between your folds, collecting your slick with a harsh groan, one that sends a bone-rattling vibration throughout your entire body, from head to curled toes. His mouth opens wider—a starving, greedy man trying to eat you whole. Sliding his tongue over your clit, Joel seals his lips around it, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves until it swells in his mouth.

High-pitched little cries and whines spill from your lips. Your hands shoot down, fingers tangling themselves in his dark, graying curls, eliciting a grunt from him when you tug at his roots. “Joel, fuck,” you choke, your nails scraping against his scalp. He slurps and swallows your wetness, the sounds drowning out those of the night—the chirping of crickets, the croaking of frogs, the soft hooting of owls are washed away until all you can hear is him devouring your pussy.

Your body starts to tremble, and you know you’re close. Joel does, too. He feels your thighs twitch, threatening to close around his head, but he wrenches them further apart with a muffled but firm, “No.” He drapes his arm over your pelvis, his large hand splayed on your belly.

Relentless, he sucks your clit, gliding his tongue over it, again and again until the muscles in your lower tummy tighten and you burst at the seams, unraveling into his mouth. Warm slick gushes out of you, a sweet mess he licks clean. You choke back sobs of pleasure, your body tensing, vision blurring with every stroke of his tongue, each scrape of his teeth over your clit.

Joel lifts himself onto his knees with a grunt and gazes down at you—his good girl, sweet and pliant and ready to be fucked full of his cock. His hands slide his belt out of its brass buckle, eyes still trained on you as he pops the button of his jeans and yanks down his zipper.

Your mind is fuzzy, still syrupy and dripping—it doesn’t fully register what he’s doing, not until he climbs back over you and you his hard cock brushes your thigh, hot velvet that sears the inside of your leg. Precum smears your flesh.

“Y’feel that? Feel what you fuckin’ do to me?”

“Joel.” Hands shaking, you reach for the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of his skin on yours. You whine when he catches both of your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. “Your clothes—”

“Stay on.” Ducking his head, he nips at your pulse point and mumbles, “Tell me what y’want, pretty girl.”

Joel shifts over you, his cock now resting on your lower belly, thick and heavy and leaking.

You squirm under him, hips coming off the ground, that hollow thing inside of you begging to be filled.

“Use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what y’want.”

“You, Joel—I want you. Please, please, please—”

He hushes you.

“I’ve you, baby. I’ve got you,” Joel promises. He wraps his other hand around himself, dragging the head of his cock along the seam of your puffy folds, up and down—he elicits a ragged little gasp from you when he grazes your clit and his fingers tighten around your wrists. He coats himself in your slippery slick until he’s glistening with it, and then he gives a slow roll of his hips, working himself into you.

Your mouth falls open. No words come out, no pleas for more—only jerky breaths, pathetic little pants for air as you take it.

Joel’s cock throbs, pulses like a heartbeat as your cunt welcomes him home. He presses his forehead to yours. “She’s always so fuckin’ sweet to me.” His voice is low, rough gravel. His eyes meet yours in the dark blue glow of the forest, and he savors the last moments of seeing your pretty face before the last traces of dusk are gone. Brushing his lips to the corner of your mouth, he feeds you his cock inch by inch, murmuring, “That’s it, honey. Good fuckin’ girl.”

You melt around him at his praise.

Releasing your wrists, he moves his hand, placing it on the crown of your head. “Ain’t ever lettin’ you out of my sight again,” he swears. “Alright? Never gonna be apart from me again, baby girl. Never. Y’understand me?” He curls his other hand firmly around your jaw, his fingers sticky with you and him. “Do you understand me?”

“Never,” you repeat, softly.

Joel kisses you, deep and slow, almost sweet. Tender. He breaks away, his lips hovering right over yours as he pushes his hips forward, bottoming out inside you.

Moaning, your hands grasp at his shoulders. Your legs widen further to accommodate the breadth of his hips.

“There y’go.” Joel presses deep within, until your belly feels hot and full. “That’s it, baby. Good girl,” he coos, drawing his hips back, then rolling them right back into you. He takes one of your ankles and tosses it over his shoulder, giving himself a better angle to fuck into you.

A loud cry tears from the back of your throat. “Joel!”

He grins in the darkness. He knew he’d like hearing you scream his name.

Joel’s hand settles on your leg that’s over his shoulder, your thigh already shaking. “Y’gonna be a real good girl n’ give me another one?”

You try to answer him, you really do, but your mind falls further and further away.

His fingertips sink into your thigh. He strokes in and out of you, never retreating more than inches at a time so he keeps you full. Stuffed. “Christ. Takin’ it so fuckin’ well,” he croons, moving your leg off of his shoulder so they are both wrapped around his waist. Hunching over you, he bears down hard, using most of his weight. He almost chuckles at the little oof that puffs out of you.

Rocks and twigs dig painfully into your back, but all you can do is feel him. How close he is.

You’re right there with him.

“Joel—fuck, I’m gonna co—”

You’re cut off by your own sharp gasp.

“That’s it. C’mon, honey.” Joel slips his hand between your thighs, his fingers firmly rubbing your clit. “C’mon, baby. Be a good girl and come on my cock—”

It rips through you like an electric current, a shockwave that has you clawing at the dirt. You come crying Joel’s name, crumbling into a whimpering, quivering mess.

Within seconds, he’s swept away by the same tide.

“Baby,” he groans, dropping his head into the hollow of your neck. He goes still and lets your tight cunt clench at him, gripping his cock as it throbs, pulses, empties into you. After a minute, he brushes a kiss to your neck before mumbling, “My sweet girl.”

Joel makes no move to pull out of you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your soiled fingers toy with the soft curls at the nape of his neck, shattered breaths slowing and piecing back together.

You gaze up through the trees at the night sky, feeling the safest you’ve ever been with the earth at your back and your whole world on top of you, his cock buried in your cunt.

Tess is right. Joel Miller really does have you fucked in the head.

You’re certain of it when you make the realization with a smile.

divider credit to @/saradika 🖤

for fic notifications please follow @joelsgreysupdates!

[smuttysabina]

Born To Be A Slut

(Male Reader x Shin Yuna x Hwang Yeji, 5k words) Tags: Romantic sex, Dating an Idol, Lovey dovey stuff, Adorable cuddling, Teasing, Lesbian sex, Some cuckolding, vaginal sex- hey what was that last part?, Oh, well if EVERYONE is cucking each other isn't that just a polyamorous relationship?, Yeah so group sex, Anal sex, Deepthroating, Cum eating, Threesome, Oral sex of all kinds, forceful sex (I mean, Yeji is involved, what did you expect?), Rampant sluttery, And smatterings of mutual understanding, Oh and fat sloppy creampies.

It was a particular agony to be a personal trainer for idols. The more mundane aspects of it certainly held painful tensions, sculpting the taut, supple flesh of gorgeous girls into ever more enticing shapes would be a temptation in and of itself. But the methodology of idol training requires a rather hands-on approach, which makes the sexual pressures nigh unbearable. Normally this stress would be easily resolved by the idol in question, in fact many "trainers" were on hand for precisely such an occasion; since the ladies themselves were hardly immune to the arousing effects as well. Unfortunately for the true professionals however, they were far too expensive to be used as fuck-meat and discarded. And so they would suffer from their pent up lusts, morosely watching as others were fucked senseless by the very luscious idols they had been training mere moments before. Of course, the more kindly or salacious girls would surreptitiously assist the poor trainers, briefly allowing them to drain their tensions into them before returning to a strictly professional relationship. Which was what was supposed to have happened to you, but sadly some idols simply enjoy breaking the rules...

You really shouldn't be doing this with Yuna. But it's hard to say no to her when this nubile vixen is staring up at you with such needy eyes. She had been teasing you for months, constantly glaring at you hungrily, wordlessly demanding your attention as well as your love. Yuna had put her body through its paces for you, relentlessly showing herself off during training, moving subtly so that your hands strayed where they should not. Which is not to say that she had not been quite verbal about her interest either, her sweetly innocent voice had been encouraging you to take liberties with her the entire time. Yuna's constant attentions had locked you in a sordid spiral, unable to think of anything but being here, yet unwilling to simply leave and end your misery. The easiest thing to do would be to give in, but that would create a whole host of problems, since you knew that you would be unable to resist giving into her demands after falling the first time. Lia had noticed your predicament, and a week ago had sympathetically led you into the bathroom and sucked you to completion; willingly swallowing your painfully bloated load that had festered in your balls for ages. But now...

Yuna presses against you, hot and sweaty from her exercise, her toned body lithe and ready for more intense... exertions. You awkwardly pry the young idol off of you, you're here to help her with her workout, not engage in unwholesome activities. Yuna submits to your entreaties with a sly smile, sighing dramatically as she returns to her stretching routine. A routine that seems to have gained some rather exotic positions since you last ran through them. Yuna presents her body to you from all imaginable angles; arching her back to show off her smooth abs and perky bodice, bowing down and thrusting her tight butt into the air, spreading her legs wide and leaning down to reveal her bulging camel-toe... All the while she watches you like a hunting cat, her poses growing ever less useful and ever more erotic as she slowly whittles down your will to resist. Yuna doesn't even bother averting her gaze from the obvious bulge in her pants. She knows you want her, so what are you waiting for? Give in.

Eager to shatter the final chains of restraint, Yuna flows upright and stalks towards you; hips swaying, chest thrust out with clear seductive intent. You stumble backwards into the wall, sliding down its mirrored surface, trying to find a way to escape, but Yuna will not be denied. She joins you on the floor, crawling the last few feet and between your legs until her face is inches away from yours. Her face is flushed with arousal, her eyes begging you wordlessly for everything you have. Kiss her, caress her, grope her, please her, fuck her, fill her, fill her with your seed, fill her until she is swollen with your love, love her, loveherloveherloveher- With a snarl you savagely kiss Yuna, your tongues wrestling greedily as you pull her body against yours. She moans in ecstasy, her legs wrapping around waist as she gyrates on you, her hands already groping at your crotch. Your hands clench around her petite ass before sliding lower to grip the fabric of her leggings. Fueled by lust, you rip them open at her crotch with brutal strength, exposing her already dripping pussy to the cold air. With mirrored enthusiasm Yuna painfully wrenches your cock out of your pants, before slamming herself onto your rigid manhood with a groan of pleasure. This virile slut had been teasing you for months, ever since you started working with her, and you pay her back for every excruciating second with interest. You jackhammer her tight cunt, pounding into her crotch with such speed that the wet slaps echo noisily throughout the empty room. Yuna blubbers with joy, taking every thrust with salacious enthusiasm, loudly begging you for your hot cum... Unable to resist her encouragements any longer, with a tortured groan you empty yourself into Yuna, making her squeal as she follows suit. Her pussy milks your cock greedily, squeezing out every last drop until your shaft has been fully drained.

Yuna lets out a content purr, her legs locked tight around your waist, her hands idly rubbing up and down your back. She stares deep into your eyes, her own wet with tears of joy, and kisses you possessively, you are hers now, got it? You belong only to Yuna...

Yuna howls as she squirms beneath her lover, her lithe body writhing as she takes every last inch of him, her greedy little cunt squeezing tight around his manhood. Her eyes roll back and she spasms as his seed erupts into her, her legs locking tight around his waist so that she receives every last drop of his love. Yuna snarls as he withdraws, but is quickly mollified as he is replaced by another fan whose cock is already dripping with excitement. This one takes her from behind as she slobbers on another member that appears like magic in front of her face. Yes, fill her up! Give her more...

"Oh! Be gentle," Yuna exclaims as you slowly push inside of her pussy, "I'm still so tight baby, so go slow with me..." She simpers as your cock fills her belly, nodding shyly in encouragement while pressing one hand against your chest, the epitome of an innocent lover. Once Yuna had caught you, her continuous seduction had mellowed, well comparatively so, she still teased you endlessly, just more in private now. And now whenever her temptatious stretches filled you with lust, you simply took her in whatever position she so happened to be in; it had gotten to the point that Yuna had joked that she should wear crotchless yoga pants, since you tore hers open so often. She hadn't, of course, she knew full well that nothing was more exciting than the anticipation that led up to the act itself, and kept her puffy lower lips shrouded to fire your imagination... Yuna moans sweetly as her legs bounce on your shoulders, you are so deep inside of her that a bulge forms in her belly from where your cock is buried in her, "Please, you're stretching me out, I'm not used to taking-"

"MORE! Give me more!" Yuna screeches as twin cocks piston her gushing cunt, her pussy slobbering fluids all over the pair of them as they plow her. The pink of her insides are clearly visible as her hole fails to grip them tightly enough, the slut too busy orgasming to even consider clenching down on their dicks. It's still not enough to fully satisfy her though, and soon another meaty cock is cramming itself into her already gaping cunt. Yuna wails with pleasure as her pussy is stretched out by three pounding dicks, gleefully scrabbling at the floor as her guts get brutally rearranged...

Your member noses curiously up Yuna's soaking slit before prodding gently against her anus, causing her to squeal in protest, "Wait! I want to save that for a special occasion! I'll need time to prep too you know!" She looks back at you and pouts, her ass still raised high in the air while her chest is pressed fully against the ground in a perfect arch. Yuna smiles affectionately as you lower your ambitions and push into the now-familiar warmth of her pussy, its wet folds welcoming you inside lovingly. You had been seeing Yuna for a couple months now, meeting with her in a disused practice room to provide a thin veneer of deniability; ostensibly she was growing stiff and required some extra assistance in working out the kinks. You certainly had been helping her stretch out, though the main area you focused on was her crotch and core. For her part, Yuna remained adorably endearing, lavishing you with attention whenever possible, even if it was mostly sensual in nature; her love language was undoubtedly sex. But still, you sensed she was holding back somewhat, contrary to the rumours about her, Yuna was delightfully wholesome and submissive once you got her clothes off; she was aggressive while teasing, but once your cock was inside of her she was like putty in your hands... You shudder with pleasure as your seed pours into Yuna as you hold her perky butt tight against you, causing her to gasp with delight, "I feel so warm inside..."

Semen spews out of Yuna's gaping asshole like a fountain as her guts empty themselves in a torrent of foul liquid after getting mercilessly pummeled by a gargantuan cock. The whore wails in distress as all the creamy love her fans had filled her with gushes out of her, as she desperately tries to squeeze shut her blown out asshole. Yuna's frantic bawling eventually draws Yeji's attention, who sighs in annoyance before assigning yet more meat to pump Yuna full again. Soon the slut is once more spasming in delight as her butt gets refilled once more, her filthy cunt drooling from the stimulation of having her ass violated by countless cocks...

Several weeks later, you and Yuna had secreted yourselves once more in the unused studio, going through actual stretches for once, as Yuna had strained her leg the other day while dancing. Though things had certainly started to hint at a more intimate sort of physical therapy, when the door suddenly slams open; and in saunters Yeji. Wearing naught but a towel, and crowned with the same, Itzy's leader appears fresh out of the shower, and more than a little amused to see you, "So this is where you've been hiding then," she smiles evilly, "don't think I haven't noticed you running off all the time, Yuna." Yuna sits upright from where she had been touching her toes and rolls her eyes in exasperation, "Well yeah, where else would I go to do some physical therapy in private?" Yeji sighs and stalks closer, as Yuna scoots between you and her protectively, glaring up defiantly at her senior, and Yeji meets her gaze with ease, "Yuna, tell me the truth, is this your new lover? It's been months since I found your last one, or have you finally grown up?" Yuna's pretty face twists petulantly, "No, he's just helping me do therapy, I've been a good girl, I promise!" Yuna's posture shifts from rebellious to submissive, affecting sadness at Yeji's lack of trust in her. It seemed all for sure, but even you felt a little moved by her performance, and it seemed Yeji did as well as her lips part slightly, "Oh, you promise?" her voice suddenly reduced to a husky whisper, the tension between the two felt like a familiar one, as Yeji stands directly in front of Yuna, so engrossed in her junior that she ignores you entirely; or you are merely beneath her notice, "So have you been a good girl Yuna?" she breathes. Yuna tilts her head forward and gives Yeji her best puppy-dog eyes, her face the very definition of purity, it was hard to refuse Yuna when she looked like that. Yeji twitches. Yuna lays it on like butter, "I promise I have not been a naughty girl, Yeji..." She flutters her eyelashes, smiling sweetly up at her leader, adorably shifting slightly from side to side as she maintains constant eye contact. Yeji's face flushes, as her lips draw back revealing clenched teeth, until with a snarl of pure lust she grabs Yeji's head and shoves it into her crotch.

"You lying slut," Yeji hisses as she forces Yuna's mouth against her cunt, "you filthy little whore, you've fallen in love again, haven't you?" Yuna lets out a whine of protest, even as she gorges upon Yeji's pussy, doing her best to try and pull away but unable to match her senior's strength. Yeji's towel falls to the ground from the violence of their sex, revealing her well-toned body and perky breasts; if she had any shame at being nude in front of a male coworker while forcing her junior to eat her out, she did not show it. Instead she groans brazenly as Yuna pleasures her, that nimble tongue and soft lips you knew so well now put to good use stimulating Yeji's hairy pussy; she crouches slightly as she pushes back against Yuna's head, hand gripping her hair tightly. And as much as she seems to struggle, Yuna still satisfies Yeji skillfully enough that soon she is shuddering as she approaches climax, "Oh fuck, eat it, eat it," Yeji moans loudly, even as Yuna squeaks in distress, which only seems to excite Yeji even further until she cannot hold on even longer, "Oh fuck, Yuna!" Yeji eyes roll back and she screams as her cunt squirts all over Yuna's mouth, forcing her to gulp down her fluids even as she struggles for breath, until Yeji stops quivering and regains her composure. Exhaling slowly, she releases her grip upon Yuna and allows her to collapse onto the ground like a piece of trash, where she coughs pitifully. Finally, Yeji acknowledges your presence, glancing at you with a sneer that conveys all too well her relish in cuckolding you, "Now then, strip."

You hesitate, knowing full well that company policy protected you from the idols' sexual demands, but unsure where your protracted tryst with Yuna left you on the scale of things. Were you still a professional trainer, or were you just an intern now, to be used and abused at will? Yeji cocks her head, "I said strip, or else I'll do it for you, meat." Yuna squawks in protest at this, but Yeji just laughs mockingly, "What? I thought he wasn't your lover, so why do you care so much?" While Yuna scrambles her brain for a response, Yeji returns her attention to you and menacingly raises an eyebrow, indicating you should get on with it. She eyes your nude form with the mild disinterest of a lady whose body count was in the thousands, before shrugging slightly and lazily stalking forwards. Her slow advance halts though when Yuna scrambles in front of her, arms outstretched, still bravely defiant, "You can't have him, he is mine!" Yuna snarls fiercely, you are unable to see Yuna's expression, but it must have been serious as Yeji blinks in surprise, "No, he is fuck-meat, he exists to be drained and discarded." "No," Yuna spits, "I love him, and he is mine!" Yeji groans in irritation, "How many times... Yuna darling, if you really loved him, would you have fucked literally hundreds of fans while he was yours?" You knew obviously, but you still feel a pit open in your stomach, before Yuna replies, "Those don't count! Those were just dicks, he is different! He is special!" she turns her head and gives you a reassuring smile before returning to staring down her leader; and the knots in your belly disappear, she did love you! Yeji rolls her eyes, and glance past Yuna to give you an exasperated look, before sighing wearily, "If he really loved you Yuna, would he be hard for me right now?" Yuna sniffs haughtily, contemptuously not even bothering to check to see if it was true (it was), Yeji continue as if by rote, "So if I were to fuck him right now, he would not stay hard at all, and would not enjoy himself?" Yuna nods confidently, "Of course not! But you would be able to force him to cum anyways!" Yeji smiles wanly, "See? If he can't stop himself from breeding whatever hole is wrapped around his cock, what makes yours so special? For all you know he's been plowing Chaery and Lia as well." "What, no!" Yuna stammers, "He's been giving all of his love to me! Plus he's a professional, so he's off limits!" "And what if I made him love me, would he just be fuck-meat then?" Yeji smiles slyly. Yuna laughs at that, "There is NO way you could do that, his love belongs only to me!" Yeji merely smirks, "Well let's find out then, shall we?" she looks at you, "On the ground meat, time to get fucked..."

You shiver slightly as you lay down, nervous about the ordeal to come, but Yuna gives you several kisses for support before pulling back and giving several more for your cock; as if claiming it for herself once more. Then Yeji arrives, "Oh good, you're getting it ready for me," as she grabs your cock and points it up, before slamming Yuna's head into it. Yuna's arms flail as she chokes on your meat, but Yeji simply leans forward, applying her body weight on her juniors head to keep her occupied. Giving you a faint smile, she murmurs in your ear, "Sorry, but this is going to be rough. Her lovers rarely last this long, so I'm going to have to make this... memorable," her smile becomes genuine for a moment, "enjoy this, because I will." Yeji pats your cheek before returning her attentions to Yuna, whose face is growing steadily redder by the moment as spit pools around the base of your shaft. She eases up enough for Yuna's head to jerk up, allowing her to gulp down what air she can with your cock still occupying her mouth, before Yeji forces her down again, "Didn't I say to get him ready for me? Fuck, you suck at this," she starts to piston her junior's head up and down your cock, uncaring of the massive mess she was making as Yuna slobbers and gasps desperately for air. You meanwhile are too busy groaning with pleasure to worry much about your lover, her wet tongue and throat driving your cock wild; you even start to thrust a little in time with Yeji's rhythm. At some indeterminable point Yeji grows tired of her sport, and hauls Yuna's drooling face off of your meat before depositing her nearby. She gives you a ravenous glare, "Time to fuck..."

With languid grace Yeji orients herself above your slippery member, holding position just low enough that her coarse folds kissed your tip. She gently sways her hips, running your cockhead through her moist, hairy slit, smirking as you shudder from the stimulation; she can tell how badly you want it. Yeji licks her lips as your hips begin to unconsciously hike upwards, your body desperate to breed her, no matter the implications, "You see Yuna," Yeji purrs to the prostrate form of her junior who was only now raising herself up onto her elbows, still hacking as she recovers from having her throat used like a fleshlight, "just a little teasing and now he is mindlessly desperate for me already. And this is why men are all worthless fuck-meat." Yuna whines despondently at this, but fixes you with a stare that wordlessly conveys her confidence in you; she nods in encouragement, she knows your love will not waver even if you are balls deep inside of Yeji. Speaking of which, Yeji finally decides to put you out of your misery, and with a feral groan slowly slides your length inside of herself until her folds kiss your crotch. She pauses her for a few moments, savoring the feeling of being filled, allowing you to feel the differences between hers and Yuna's insides; then with a crooked smile she rides you. Her pace is ferocious, almost feral, fucking you as if she were an animal in heat, her sopping cunt massaging your cock ceaselessly. Unlike the smooth tightness of Yuna, Yeji's cunt was practically drooling with fluids, roughly dragging against your shaft as she bounces atop you. After several minutes of this voracious sex, you can feel your balls already pulsating needily, and no matter how hard you tried to hold on for your beloved, you knew you were going to breed Yeji. Or not. Pausing on the precipice of your climax, Yeji waits until the moment has passed, before slowly starting again, hungrily she leans forward, her dark nipples rigid, and growls, "Say you love me." You refuse, and so she continues.

What feels like hours pass by, but it must have surely been far less, as Yeji continues to pry at your determination, urging you to give in. And oh how you want to, your balls throb in agony from being denied so many times, and your brain feels melted from being edged for so long by this cruel sexual goddess. All the while Yeji smugly provides a running commentary for Yuna, who is out of your view by this point, and no doubt worried sick about you. But even the thought of your dearest Yuna could only sustain you for so long, and like the experienced slut she was, Yeji could tell without you even needing to say anything. So when she runs her hands up your sweaty chest, and clasps your cheeks, she knows exactly how you will answer before she even asks, "Do you love me?" Despairing, you moan an affirmative, feeling absolutely wretched for betraying Yuna, but unable to resist your body's demands that you impregnate the woman atop you. Yeji smirks, her body similarly coated with sweat, her breasts heaving from her protracted exertions, her legs bulging with muscles, and lets out a little laugh, "No, you don't," Before finishing you off with a furious burst of riding that has your head spinning as your balls empty themselves into Yeji's fertile cunt. Who groans with delight as her pussy is filled, her narrow eyes widening slightly as the sheer quantity of semen pouring inside of her surprises even her. She slowly grinds on you as your cock finishes leaking its load into Yeji, "Fuck," she murmurs, "That was a lot, I'm almost impressed," she turns around and calls behind her, "Yuna dear, time to clean up! Oh stop masturbating and get over here already!"

You frown up at Yeji in confusion, masturbation, what was she talking about? Yeji grins mirthlessly down at you, "What, didn't you notice? The entire time you were doing your best to hold on for her, your supposed lover was busy finger-blasting herself silly like the perverted little cuck she is. That's right, she was enjoying your suffering, she was aroused by watching you getting taken by another girl. Pitiful, isn't it?" With that Yeji smoothly unmounts you, uncaring of the slick of semen leaking from her cunt down her glistening thighs; she was about to get cleaned off anyways. Then she drags the now completely naked Yuna towards you, who blushes shyly as she approaches, stammering awkwardly in embarrassment, "Honey! You're okay! You um, held on for so long! I'm so proud of you!" she gives you a sickly sweet smile, as if trying to distract you from the fact that her legs were absolutely drenched with fluids. The look of jealousy that flashes across her face is genuine though, as she smells the stench of another girl slathering your nethers. With a determined expression, she gets to work sucking and licking the evidence of your copulation off of you; cleaning you so enthusiastically that your member improbably starts to rise to the occasion once more. But Yuna's chore is not yet finished, after all, your delicious load belongs to her, so she takes her due.

Yeji groans as Yuna devours her sloppy cunt once more, the slut's lithe tongue scooping out its creamy contents before undulating it back down its length and into her throat. Yuna's ass is raised high in the air as she works, the tempting sweep of her hips put on full display, showing exactly why she was so often taken in this position. Your interest does not go unnoticed, even as her pussy is getting emptied, Yeji beckons you closer, leaning forward slightly so that she can spread her junior's cheeks, "Ready again? Good, now fuck her ass this time," Yuna lets out a surprised noise at this pronouncement, but Yeji uses a hand to keep her on task by holding her head in place, "Oh and don't worry about lube, she likes it rough. So, are you going to fuck her or not?" You hesitate, Yuna had said that she had wanted to save anal for a special occasion, but she had not helped you while Yeji was ravishing you, and instead had been aroused by your suffering... Your tip prods at her entrance, causing Yuna to quiver slightly until you grasp her wide hips to hold her in place as you force yourself into her asshole. You push inside of her vigorously, expecting to have to press through the cramped confines of her unused rear; instead, you slam yourself inside of Yuna's guts to the hilt. A muffled squeal emanates from Yeji's crotch, as Yuna's entire body jolts in surprise, and a gush of squirt splatters against your balls. The tight hole which you had been aching to fuck for so long, was loose from overuse, stretched out from countless cocks that had been plowing it while you had patiently waited. So you jackhammer Yuna's worthless asshole, now beyond caring about her discomfort as you relentless fuck her guts, causing Yeji to coo in delight, "See I told you she was a slut, make her pay for cucking you..." And oh how you do, you treat her asshole like a cheap fleshlight, uncaring of the pain you might be causing; though judging by the sporadic sprays of squirt that hit your thighs in balls, the whore was enjoying it. And you were too, though her anus was no longer the snug hole it used to be, her coils still had enough strength to massage your shaft as it slams past them. Your balls start to clench upwards once more, your thrusts deepen and grow in force, Yeji notes this and urges you on, "Do it, claim her fucking asshole, fill this bitch's guts with your cum," groaning loudly, you comply, spurting your seed deep inside of Yuna's innards while she spasms with ecstasy from having her ass bred.

Still shuddering, you pull out of Yuna's ass, and are unsurprised when it closes immediately after you leave, sealing your semen inside of her. Panting, she looks up at Yeji for approval, her face flushed with arousal, her face smeared with Yeji's cunt juices. Yeji pats her cheek affectionately, "Fuck, you were born to be a slut, Yuna," the girl in question giggles shyly, before glancing back at you apologetically, "I'm sorry dear, I guess it wasn't love after all, I'm just a slut after all..." Yuna continues to breath heavily, and whines, "I need mooore," she pouts, "does nobody love me enough to give some?" Yeji lets out a knowing sigh, "I'm sure some of the interns are absolutely bursting with love for you Yuna, why don't you go ask them?" Yuna brightens noticeably at this, and beaming happily scampers up onto her feet and races out of the room, not even bothering to spare you a parting glance. And thus ended your relationship, if it could be called that, with Yuna. Yeji gives you a sympathetic look as the pair of you sit on the wooden floor, both uncaring of the fact that you are seated in a puddle of sexual fluids. Yeji clears her throat, "We're going to have to let you go, but don't worry, we know a few other companies with openings so you shouldn't have any troubles finding work. IVE in particular seem to be needing good physical trainers, those lazy brats," she gives you a level stare, "But first, fuck-meat, I am going to use you until I am satisfied. After all," she smiles cruelly, "I don't have to worry about being down a professional trainer any more..." Her smug boasting is cut off however as you jump up and shove your cock into her face, forcing her to clean the stinking ass-juices off of your cock as her eyes narrow dangerously. Once you are erect once more, you push her back onto the ground, where she growls huskily, "Feisty, I think I'm going to enjoy this more than I expected," Yeji smoothly assumes the position, sticking her butt up into the air and giving you a meaningful glance,

"Well pick a hole already, and don't worry, I won't let you stop until I'm satisfied. Now show me how you fuck an actual woman, and not some mincing slut..."

[aerithmybbgmypookiemywife]

Genshin SAGAU where GN! Reader reads a fanfic about them being a sub.

people of tevyat look in horror as a fanfic about you being a sub is released, not knowing you ARE actually a sub. not proofread. also shoutout to @/gameperson23100 (not sure how tags work here im just a tumblr noob so i just did like a twitter thing) they were in my comments on my first post about this and had an idea about a sub reader! i just expanded on it a little :))

Creator! Reader who seems so elegant yet have such an untouchable aura towards them. Everyone praises them for being so mature, for being so calm and collected towards stressfull siturations, everyone fawns over them. Just one glance from their slightly intimidating eyes has their knees trembling. The archons praise them as someone to really look up to, a true pillar of Tevyat.

When fanfictions like the Creator x Reader became popular, there was an unsaid rule that you were the dominant one in the relationship.

So imagine everyones suprise when a book from an anonymous author potraying the Creator as a sub pops up in Inazuma. Yae Miko was suprised this was published unsupervised! She shut it down but it was too late, almost all of its copies were sold! Everyone was baffled at how the author potrayed the Creator, when it came to their duties, the author wrote them perfectly but when it came to the romance between the Creator and whoever the reader is... It was a catastrophe! The Creator? Submissive?? Down on their knees?? Begging?! Getting degraded and liking it?!?!

BLASPHEMY!

People of Tevyat were conflicted at this book, everyone had divided opinions. Some saying that the Creator is a sub, while some saying they are a dom. There are a few people who suggest that the Creator may be a switch but this gets shut down by both sides. It even reached the scholars of Sumeru! With debates turning into heated arguments that escalates into fights.

The archons, except Nahida, were upset at this book as this somewhat taints your image. (although they secretly love the idea of the creator being beneath their feet) The acolytes were also divided and different opinions, with Alhaitham finding it somewhat interesting while Kaeya found it a little hilarious and treated the book like a parody. Xiao on the other hand, had the same opinion as Zhongli, the book may taint your image thus he made it his mission to hunt down the anonymous author. Itto, who got the book from a random stranger he befriended, treated the book like a sacred scripture or a guilty pleasure. He knows it's probably bad but he just can't stop reading it! Wriothesley read the book during tea time, and thought that the idea of the Creator being a sub was possible...

"And that concludes the report on Fontaine." Neuvillette concluded his report. You only hummed in response as you looked around the room. the Archons were there and some acolytes were also present in the meeting. You felt as if they have something they want to ask but is holding themselves back.

'...Is it about the book...? Fuck, why did it have to be so accurate...' you thought.

You cleared your throat, "I'm sure all of you are aware of a certain book going around." you spoke up, their minds started scrambling, thinking that you would be upset and angry that they haven't found the author yet. "Your Grace, we are all working hard to hunt down the author and imprison whoever they are." Zhongli spoke up, you shook your head.

"No need, it's... An interesting book." you told them, you cleared your throat again, trying to ease your embarrassment. That book ended on a cliff hanger too! No way in hell were you going to imprison the author after writing an accurate potrayal of you!

Everyone didn't show it in their face but they were shocked, but even more shocked at how red your ears are while you tried to keep a calm face. Did this mean that you didn't mind the potrayal of the book about you?! Or are you truly a sub?! Do you just like the book?! What is it???!! HOW IS IT INTERESTING??!!? Their minds were filled with unanswered questions.

Word spread to Tevyat really fast, and as soon as they heard that you called the book interesting, it just added more fuel in the debates about you being a sub or a dom. Like two groups in the same fandom fighting for their non canon ship! The book would still be treated like an illegal book, a guilty pleasure.

[hintsofhoney]

Mine

Paring(s): Alpha!Dean Winchester x F!Omega!Reader

Summary: When Dean is forced to mark Y/N in order to not blow their cover on a case, it leads him to reveal a secret that he's been keeping since they met.

Square(s) Filled: biting for @anyfandomkinkbingo

Tags: 18+, true mates, smut, p in v, marking, a/b/o if that wasn't already obvious lmao, knotting

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Helloooo, it's been a minute. If I'm being honest, I have about 10-15 finished works just sitting in my "ready to post" folder, but posting is always such an ordeal, so they just stay there until I feel like dealing with Tumblr. But, this one I did write over the last two days after I finished reading Bride by Ali Hazelwood, which I loved so much that it made me want to dip my toes into the Omegaverse! That being said, I don't know how much in here is actually in line with A/B/O "rules", but I know I needed to twist some things to fit the story (e.g. in this specific A/B/O fic/universe, claiming marks will fade if they're not true mates). Huge thank you to my A/B/O girlies, @makeadealwithdean and @emoryhemsworth, for reading it over, I love you both to the moon and back! I hope you all enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST |  SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST |  MAIN MASTERLIST

“We get in, find the knife, get out, got it?” Dean asks, looking between Sam in the front seat and Y/N in the back, making sure everyone is on the same page. They both nod once in understanding, before the three of them make their way out of the car, their doors slamming shut simultaneously. 

Y/N stares up at the mansion before them, the music loud, the party raging. It’s some charity event thrown by the wealthiest Alpha in the state, and he just happens to have the weapon they need to finish out this hunt. Y/N stumbles a bit, tripping over the cobblestone driveway in her heels, and she catches the sleeve of Dean’s suit to steady herself. He shoots her a glare that tells her to pull it together. They need to blend in.

“Sorry,” she whispers.

“Here,” Dean replies, grabbing her wrist and pulling it through the crook formed by his bent elbow, forcing them to walk arm-in-arm.

“I don’t need –”

“You are an Omega, Y/N. And there are upwards of a hundred Alphas here who can all smell it. So what you need to do is start acting like one. Just because I’m not some asshole Alpha who demands your respect doesn’t mean they aren’t, and we can’t risk drawing attention to ourselves.”

Y/N takes a deep breath and plasters on a fake smile as they move slowly up the driveway. “Anyone who demands my respect just because of some bullshit biological hierarchy doesn’t deserve it,” she grits out.

Dean stops, turning to face her, one of his hands on either side of her biceps. “Do you want to be on this case or not?” 

His voice is lower than usual, demanding and gruff. A voice he only uses when he wants to remind her that he is an Alpha, and bullshit biological hierarchy aside, her body is wired to listen to him. 

She gulps, and he tries not to focus on the bob in her throat, the pulse in her neck near her gland, the scent of her. The moment he met her he knew who she was, what they were. Are. He’s been taking scent blockers since before he met her, finding it far easier to interact with other Alphas when investigating cases if they couldn’t scent him out, but the moment he met her, he knew he had to start taking rut blockers too. Though, it feels like the longer he’s around her, the more immune he becomes to the pills. Like she’s going to send him into a rut any fucking second, and she has no idea. He’s thought about telling her so many times, but mates come with strings. Strings that aren’t conducive to the life of a hunter.

“Yes,” she answers his question meekly, almost submissively, and he nods to cover the hormones he forces himself to swallow down. Rejecting your biology is not easy, no matter how many pills you take.

“Then I’m going to need you to take my arm, put on a smile, and act like being an Omega is the greatest joy of your life. That means –”

“I know how to be a good little Omega, Dean,” she interrupts, dragging the words ‘good little Omega’ through a sarcastic tone.

He tenses slightly at her words, sarcastic or not. Good little Omega.

“I’m only bad for you,” she continues with a cheeky wink, and fuck, he might explode. Hell, he might take her into the bushes right now and mark her, claim her, before parading her around in front of this entire fucking party with his teeth marks on her neck. He’s rigid, trying to keep himself under control, and she gives him a playful pat on his shoulder. “Lighten up, Alpha,” she teases. “I’ll be a good girl.”

Jesus fucking Christ. He gives her biceps a squeeze that he hopes comes off as reassuring as he’s trying to make it seem, before linking his arm with hers once more and catching up to Sam at the front of the driveway.

The trio is greeted by the owner of the mansion himself, one Jim Myers, who welcomes them in with a smile on his face and a cigar in his hand. 

“How Gatsby-esque,” Y/N mutters under her breath, watching as Myers shakes Sam’s hand.

Dean nods in agreement. “You definitely wore the right outfit.”

Y/N blushes as she looks down at her dress; a black, semi body-hugging cocktail dress bedazzled with gold sequins in some sort of art deco pattern. All she’s missing is a cigarette holder and a feather in her hair. 

“Only because I read the invitation. Unlike some of us,” she mumbles in reply.

“Watch it, Omega,” Dean grits out, plastering on a smile as soon as Myers comes over to greet him.

“Jim Myers, pleasure,” he says, shaking Dean’s hand.

“Dean. And this is Y/N.”

She keeps the cordial smile on her face as Jim takes her hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently before inhaling her scent. 

“Pleasure, Miss Y/N,” he says with a feral grin, his eyes darkening with unmistakable lust as he lets her hand fall back to her side. 

Dean takes a step forward, unable to stop himself. “Mine,” he practically growls, and Jim takes a step back, throwing his hands up in surrender. 

“My apologies. I didn’t see a mark, so I just assumed.”

Dean falters, clearing his throat, suddenly reminded of the reason they’re all here in the first place. “No, that’s alright. It’s my fault for not putting it in a visible place.” His eyes dart over to Y/N’s. “I think I’m gonna fix that.”

She ducks her head but can’t hide the red flush that creeps up into her cheeks, reminding herself that it’s just her biology, and that this is all for show anyway. They’re here to do a job, and sometimes those jobs involve… well, whatever the hell just happened. And clearly, Dean is a better actor than she gives him credit for.

Jim chuckles, clasping his hands together. “Well, you three have fun, the drinks are free, the food is good, and if you,” he points at Sam, “good sir, are in search of an Omega, there are plenty to choose from.”

Sam blushes. “Right.” He nods. “Thanks.”

And with that, Jim disappears into the crowd.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Sam says. “You two go. Upstairs, down the hall, third door on the right. If I got the right blueprints.”

“If you got the right blueprints?” Dean asks.

“Just go.” He taps his ear to indicate that he’ll drop in on Dean’s earpiece if anything goes wrong. 

Dean sighs, taking Y/N by the hand and leading her up the stairs. He weaves in and out of the crowd, the scents of everyone mixing together, making it impossible to decipher who is what. Y/N’s never been more glad to be on heat suppressors; knowing full well the scents of this many Alphas invading her nostrils would send her body into a major one.

Dean quickly finds the door, and they slip into the room unnoticed, closing the barrier and switching on the light. It’s a bedroom — the master, from the looks of it — and the knife is right in front of them in the middle of the room, across from the foot of the bed. It’s in a glass case, on display, and likely armed with a million alarms, but right in front of them nonetheless. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters, running a hand through his hair as he thinks about what the next move should be.

“We could find something that weighs the same? Lift the glass and replace it super fast?” Y/N offers.

“Unfortunately, I think it’s the glass that’s probably set to trip an alarm. But the fact that you’re applying Indiana Jones to real life scenarios is making me want to —” 

He stops himself, realizing what he was about to say. He needs to get himself under control but Y/N in that dress with her smart fucking mouth, with other Alphas eyeing her, he really shouldn’t be here, with her, alone, and —

“Making you want to what?” she asks.

Shit. “Making me want to… make you watch more of them,” he replies, opting to circle the display case, searching it for a way in to distract himself from her. 

“Oh, goody. Can’t wait.” She’s as monotone and sarcastic as ever, and every time something smart comes out of her mouth he has to resist the urge to bend her over and fuck her right then.

“Get out of there now,” Sam’s voice comes in on Dean’s earpiece. “Lost track of him for a few seconds, just found him again. He’s making his way upstairs.”

“Shit,” Dean says. “Shit, shit, shit.” He looks around the room frantically. If they go out the door, Myers will without a doubt see them leaving his room. “Myers is coming,” he explains to a confused-looking Y/N.

“Fucking — God dammit.” She looks around too, for a hiding spot, for a weapon, and then she spots herself in the mirror hanging on the wall and an idea comes to her. “Mark me,” she orders.

“What?” Dean snaps, his attention fully on her.

“Get over here and mark me. You told him you were going to make it visible.” She continues before Dean can protest. “Who knows if it’ll even stay, it’s not like we’re mates, right? And if it does, I don’t mind being bound to you for the rest of ever. It’s not like I’m having much luck in the relationship department anyway. But we need that knife, and we’re not going to get it if we don’t –”

“Fuck,” he says under his breath with a quick shake of his head, before he strides across the room and pushes her up against the wall just in time to hear the door click. He inhales her scent, his mouth trailing from the base of her jaw all the way down to her mating gland where it hovers as the door opens all the way. Then he bites down.

Y/N throws her head back, her fingers digging into Dean’s shoulders as his teeth sink into her, and none of it is for show. The pain is euphoric, and her senses heighten, and she suddenly wishes she hadn’t been so stringent on taking her fucking pills, because whatever this feeling is, coursing through her veins, settling in her core, she needs to feel it more. She can’t stand how dulled it is, how it just stays there, simmering underneath the surface. She wants to erupt. 

“Mm, fuck, Alpha!” she cries out, no trace of sarcasm in her voice, and Dean’s hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise them. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Jim exclaims. “Got an alert that someone was in here, there’s some very valuable things in here, you see, and I just wanted to make sure —”

Dean pulls away from her neck long enough to shoot him a glare that translates to “get out or I’m going to kill you”, and Jim gets the message, backing out the door and shutting it behind him. 

“Fuck,” Dean breathes, letting his forehead fall to Y/N’s shoulder. He shouldn’t be so close to her. He should back away, give himself some space to breathe. But her scent keeps him rooted in place. It’s her usual scent; something like freshly baked sugar cookies and vanilla, sweet and enticing, but there’s something else, something —

“Are you guys okay?” Sam’s voice in his damn ear again.

Dean lifts his head and presses the button on his earpiece to reply. “Fine, Sam. Give us a second.” Then he takes the earpiece out and tosses it over his shoulder, more agitated than he should be at his brother just trying to check in.

“Dean,” she breathes, and she sounds absolutely wrecked. She brings her hands to his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. “Are you okay?” 

He nods. Her touch is like fire on his skin. He needs her. 

Y/N squeezes her thighs together. She’s never been able to scent Dean before, but he’s never been this close for this long. He’s never marked her, either. Right now his scent is breaking through the suppressants, little by little. It’s bits of cedar and leather and whiskey, and she’s never smelt anything like it, yet it is so familiar somehow. It invades her senses, and if this is what he smells like with suppressants, she’s terrified of what would happen without them.

“Dean… your scent.” She closes her eyes and inhales deeply.

“Fuck, my pills must’ve worn off, I —”

She shakes her head. “It’s dulled but… but it’s there.” Her thighs clench together again, and she needs him back on her skin. “It’s there and it’s so fucking good.”

Dean’s eyes fall to the gland on her neck, and the severity of what he’s done comes crashing into him like a wrecking ball. It’s enough to force him to take a step away from her, panic rising in his chest. “I – fuck. I marked you. I fucking marked you.”

Y/N’s fingers come up to graze the indent on her neck, and she shudders at the touch. “I told you to.”

“No, you don’t understand, Y/N –”

“I know what happens when mates get marked, Dean,” she interrupts matter-of-factly. “I’m sure this’ll fade.”

“It won’t. I – I shouldn’t have done that. Fuck. Fuck!” He turns to the wall next to him, hitting it with the side of his closed fist. 

“Dean.” Her touch on his arm is gentle and comforting, but he doesn’t turn to face her. “You need to calm down. It’s really not a big deal, I –”

Dean takes a deep breath, both hands on the wall now as he collects himself. He can’t even bring himself to look at her when he says, “You’re my mate, Y/N.”

She takes a step back, and her fading scent is what makes him finally face her. She’s halfway across the room by the time he does. 

“W-what do you mean?”

“You’re my mate, Y/N,” he repeats.

She shakes her head, her hand coming to her neck again, the teeth marks seared into her skin. “N-no. H-how? When? How – how long have you known?”

Dean takes another long, deep breath. He could lose her tonight. She could run and never come back and he wouldn’t blame her. “Since we met.”

“THREE YEARS!?” she roars. “YOU’VE KNOWN FOR THREE FUCKING YEARS!?”

“Y/N, I –”

She stalks toward him, one finger outstretched, one fist clenched by her side. She points at him as she backs him into a wall, and he’s incredibly turned on and incredibly scared at the same time. 

“You’ve known that we’re fucking mates for three years, and you didn’t feel as though that was pertinent fucking information to tell me!?”

Dean swallows. “I – it’s – there are… strings with mates. You know that. I didn’t want to ball and chain you. I didn’t want to keep you anywhere you didn’t want to be. And if – fuck – we’re hunters, Y/N. If something had happened to me, and you knew… I didn’t want you to have to live with that. With the pain that comes with losing a true mate.”

Y/N stops half a foot away and drops her accusatory finger. “What did you say?” she whispers.

“True… mates,” Dean breathes.

“We’re…? But… We never – I don’t –”

“With me on my pills, and you on your pills, I think it was enough to… so we just never…”

“But you knew,” she says, closing the gap between them, her hand coming up to caress his cheek. “You knew for so long and you watched me go on dates, had to listen about the… things I did with other Alphas… if I had mated with one of them, you –”

“You deserved to have a choice. Regardless of what I wanted, you deserved to have a choice.” 

“My choice could’ve left you depressed and alone and celibate forever, you fucking dumbass.” 

He shrugs, and her hand falls to rest over his heart. She stares at it as she continues.

“When you… marked me… I felt… I don’t know what I felt. Nothing’s ever been so intense.”

She looks up at him through her eyelashes, and he smiles softly.

“That’s the bond,” he explains, his large palm coming to rest over the hand on his chest. 

“And if we weren’t on… our blockers?”

“If we weren’t on our blockers, there’s no fucking telling how many pups we’d have running around by now.”

Y/N shivers as the thought of being bred settles in her core, and for once she’s not cursing her biology. Dean chuckles faintly at her reaction, dropping his forehead to hers. 

“We can practice in the meantime. Until you decide you want off of them.”

She inhales deeply, taking in as much of his scent as she can. “Oh, I –” another deep breath, “I’m getting off of them for sure.”

Dean lets out a borderline animalistic growl, thinking about how many times he’ll get to fuck her through that first heat. “I’m gonna stop taking my pills, too,” he says breathily.

“Yeah?”

“I had to get on rut blockers when you moved into the Bunker because I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself. But now,” he says, spinning them both around and pinning Y/N against the wall, “now I don’t fuckin’ have to.”

“Dean,” she half gasps, half moans. He kisses the mark on her neck before licking all the way up to her jaw line and pulling back. 

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, Omega.”

She meets his feral gaze with one of her own, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Prove it.” 

And it might be an incredibly stupid thing to say to a horny Alpha, but it’s also Dean. And he’d never hurt her.

“Mm, fuck.” His voice is raspy and wrecked and they haven’t even done anything yet. Before Y/N can process what’s happening, he’s picking her up and throwing her onto the bed. He climbs over her, hovering for a moment, taking in her flushed cheeks, the warmth radiating off of her, her scent. “You’re beautiful,” he states plainly, like it’s the one fact in the world that he knows without a doubt to be true. 

Y/N blushes. “Thank you, Alpha.” She says it because she knows what it does to him. 

“You’re beautiful, and I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” 

A gasp leaves her lips as he pushes her dress up her hips and moves down her body to the foot of the mattress, his fingertips dancing along the hem of her panties before his eyes meet with hers. She gives him a nod, and it’s all the confirmation he needs before pulling them down her legs and tossing them aside. 

He watches hungrily as she spreads her thighs, her core damn near dripping with her wetness, and if this is what it’s like when she’s on heat blockers, he can’t even begin to imagine what it’ll look like covered in her slick. His cock grows hard in his slacks at the thought, and he has to step off the bed to take off his pants and boxers before the containment grows painful. He shrugs off his suit jacket and white dress shirt too, and when he’s standing in front of the bed, fully naked, Y/N is propping herself up on her elbows to take him in.

“Holy – fuck,” is all she can get out. 

Dean chuckles deeply, one knee coming up onto the mattress as he fists his cock. “Fuck, sweetheart.” He looks her over again, pussy glistening, nipples peaked through her dress. “Fuck, I want you to – would you present for me?”

A smirk spreads across her lips, but she doesn’t say anything before flipping over and assuming the position. Ass up, legs shoulder width apart, chest resting on the mattress. 

Dean lets out a low and guttural, “Fuuuuck,” and it’s enough to make her pussy clench around nothing. She feels the mattress dip behind her, and when his cock starts to move through her folds, she almost cums right then and there. 

“I know you you wish you weren’t an Omega,” he starts, “but you’re a fuckin’ perfect one, baby.” 

She shakes her head, soft whimpers escaping her as he continues to tease her with his dick. “I’m glad I’m an Omega, because I’m yours.” 

With that, Dean loses what little self control he has left. He lines himself up with her entrance and sinks into her heat, and she feels so fucking perfect, the way she molds around his cock. The noises leaving her throat spur him on as he thrusts into her, setting a bruising pace. He wraps his hand around her shoulder for leverage, his other gripping her ass.

“Oh my fuck!” she practically screams, and he can feel how close she is, can smell it. 

“You’re gonna be a good little Omega and cum for me, aren’t you baby?” he pants, and he couldn’t be thrusting deeper if he tried.

She nods frantically. “Yesyesyes, please, Alpha, I wanna to cum. I wanna — mm, fuck — on your —”

She’s too fucked out to even finish her sentence, and Dean can feel himself about to fall over the edge. “What’s that, sweetheart? Speak up.”

“I wanna cum — oh, God! — on your knot. Fucking fill me up, Dean, please.”

He barely manages another thrust before he buries himself to the hilt, the base of his cock swelling inside her as he pumps her full of his seed.

The feeling of him filling her sends her over the edge, her pussy clenching around his cock, his knot, and she feels so full and fucked and sated.

“Oh my fucking fuuuuck,” he groans, feeling her pulse around him. “Fuck, everyone and this fuckin’ party is gonna be able to smell me inside of you.”

She moans at his words.

“Gonna have me dripping down your thighs ‘til we get back home.” His hand squeezes the globe of her ass before he leans over, getting as close to her ear as he can. “And then I’m gonna fuck you again. And again. And again. Because we got three years to make up for.” He nips at her ear playfully. “And now you’re finally mine.”

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I can't recall if you take requests but.. The boys with a vampire lover? If you haven't already.. Been thinking about this for awhile, I just had to ask. And if you don't, Then I apologize for asking.

Vampire Lover!

Tags: mostly fluff, monsterxhuman, mention of blood (you’re a vampire duhhhh)

Incl: Satoru, Suguru, Sukuna, Choso, Nanami

An: Hi! My requests are open :) No need to apologize! Thank you for the idea <3 I hope this is what you meant btw this is the best I could come up with.. 😭

SATORU

Satoru would definitely be the type to beg you to bite him. You would always deny him and tell him that it’d be wrong for you to feed on him since he’s your boyfriend, but he gets all giddy at the idea of you biting him and drinking from him.

He always makes excuses for why you can’t attend events or different clan meetings if they’re during the day. You’re constantly known for having some sort of sickness that Satoru randomly came up with.

He’s very inquisitive: constantly asking you if people smell different based off their blood types, which blood type is the sweetest etc.

He also has the money to fund all consensual giving of blood to feed you for years on out. You never have to worry about going hungry or having to hunt for food. Another reason why you refuse to drink from him.

Satoru would at first be happy with his humanity. He doesn’t want immortality or to never age. He doesn’t want any more power than he already had. Though, when you randomly bring up to him that you’ll outlive him, he’s suddenly questioning whether being a human is for him or not.

The thought of you going on to live without him for as many years as this earth stands drives him wild. He starts doing a lot of research, and he begins to ask you if you’ve thought about turning him. He’s definitely willing to give up his humanity if it means being by your side.

SUGURU

Suguru insists you drink from him to prevent harm from anyone else. At least, that’s what he tells you. In reality, he loves how much you rely on him. He adores each time you crawl up into his lap and gingerly kiss on his neck, obviously hoping to feed on him.

He’ll always tell you, “Go ahead, baby. Take what you need,” as he brushes his hair back from his neck. His hands would gently caress your back and bottom as you drank from his neck.

He’d never stop you either, even if you took a bit too much from him because that’s when you’re extra doting on him. You’re super apologetic and tend to him like he’s some frail being. It’s the only time in his life that he’s looked at as weak, and he doesn’t mind it, especially not when your apologizing with kisses and bringing him anything he could possibly ask for.

Suguru lies to his found-family that you have a rare skin condition, and you can’t be in the sun at all. He makes sure everyone accepts you into their little group, and he even introduces you to his followers. You expressed fear about being around that many humans, but he loves to watch as you nervously make your way across the room, introducing yourself to everyone. He knows you’ll be itching to feed as soon as everyone’s gone.

Suguru wants to be by your side for forever, but he knows that if you turn him, then you can’t feed on him anymore. He’s stuck in a dilemma of choosing which is more important to him. His humanity isn’t even part of the equation as he gave that up a long time ago.

SUKUNA

Sukuna would be the type to laugh at you for needing blood as substance to keep you alive. He would mock and bully you saying things like, “Look at the worthless creature who’s really no better than a mere mortal.”

He’d tempt you by various means, sometimes even “accidentally” slicing his finger open so you could smell the blood that still somehow pulsed through his veins. Once you finally pled enough for his liking, he’d finally allow you to have a taste.

For the King of Curses, he has some of the sweetest tasting blood that you’ve ever had the pleasure of indulging. Though, he won’t let you drink from him often, instead he gifts you human sacrifices. He thinks of it as a courting present.

When he’s not being a little asshole towards you, he does enjoy lying in bed with you while you theorize about what the future holds for you two. He’d gently pet your hair and tell you not to worry your head about such foolish things.

Everyone in his inner circle already knows about what you are. If they’re fine with being associated with the literal incarnation of evil, then they should be completely okay with a vampire at his side.

He doesn’t have to give up his humanity to be with you for all eternity because he doesn’t have any humanity to begin with. You’re not even sure what would happen if you tried to turn him, but you’re not too keen on finding out.

CHOSO

Choso would be like Satoru in the sense that he’s constantly making sure that you’re fed. Given his blood manipulation cursed technique, he can feed you quite easily through various different means. Though he rather prefers when you bite him.

He relates to you on a deeper level, understanding what it’s like to be not quite human. He sympathizes with your struggles and tries to reassure that some humans will accept you for who you are.

Knowing that you can’t go out in the sunlight, Choso finds so many date ideas and things to do at night. You never feel like you’re missing out on anything because this man will make it happen, no matter what it is.

Only Choso and Yuji know you’re a vampire. He knows he said that humans will accept you, but he also knows some will try to hunt you down, and he’s not willing to take the risk.

Choso doesn’t have to give up his humanity to live forever with you, but he does wonder what would happen to him if he was half-curse and half-vampire. He’d become fixed on the idea, but you’d have to politely remind him that if he turned, his cursed technique would basically become useless.

NANAMI

Nanami would be such a cautious lover to a vampire, not because he’s scared of you. He loves you. He’s just worried about everyone else being around you.

He’d let you feed on him, but he brings around small blood bags for you to enjoy at all times! He even gets jazzy with it and makes you fun little drinks with the blood (while trying not to throw up because it probably repulses him). Nevertheless, the drinks always turn out good.

He holds an umbrella for you constantly if you insist on going out during the day time. If anyone asks why you need an umbrella, he snaps at them to mind their own business.

Nanami would tell no one that you’re a vampire. He doesn’t want anyone potentially leaking that information and bringing you into harm’s way. He prefers that he’s the only one who knows.

Unfortunately, I don’t see Nanami giving up his humanity to be with you forever, and you agree with him. He grows old beside you while you remain the same, and you give him the most fulfilling life possible.

[inknopewetrust]

𝐒𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐫, 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞�� 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞. [𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] [𝐰𝐜: 𝟕𝐤]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝟏𝟖+, 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐱. 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 [𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠], 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚+ 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧.

𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬: 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

You weren’t sure when you started to feel this way.

It ate at you—the sensation. Nipping at the bits of yourself that were far too obvious in a mirror. They rushed through you like you were a lamb for slaughter. It was often you wondered if all of those creatures you sought could feel it too, this vulnerability underneath a tough skin.

And you could see it too. In the mirror, passing a reflecting door or window, in the sunglasses of a friend. Every time your image reflected back to you, a wave of self-doubt washed over you.

It was debilitating and something you never voiced aloud. The thoughts simply ate away at you as the days passed on and the world unraveled with it.

Little help came when your daily return to safety came in the form of a mismatched bunker. In it, the glamorous common sections provided a bit of beauty while the corridors were bland and the rooms much more so. There was nothing there to make you feel pretty—let alone beautiful in such an ugly world.

When the bunker was quiet, those thoughts came alive.

Everyone had gone off for the day. It was one of those strange, sitting duck kind of days where there wasn’t a story to chase or evil lurking around the corner to seize a moment. It was quiet, content with whatever lull had formed for the time being. You were alone in your room flipping through an old book on werewolves that was quickly losing your interest.

For once, you just wanted a break to be normal. To feel normal and be normal without a fear of cosmic retribution for wanting to be someone other than what you had become. This… monster-hunting sidekick chick who feels a bit down and out about the cards life dealt her.

Dean and Sam weren’t on the same wavelength as you, you had imagined. They played off their content with this life as perfectly as anyone could.

A knock at your door interrupted your thoughts abruptly. It startled you. Shaking a little jump from your skin, you approached the door with caution as your knowledge had led you to believe you were alone.

But as you cracked open the door, it was painfully obvious you weren’t.

“Dean?”

He gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I thought you’d be—“

“I told Sam to go on his own,” he clarified. Sam went down to Wichita early that morning and with the roar of Baby, you had assumed Dean had tagged along.

“Oh.”

There was something more stirring in the air around your room. The internal self-loathing was misting and Dean’s presence was billowing. For you, all it took was one glance into his green eyes to fall into an abyss of him. Dean Winchester had girls falling to their knees, praying for a miracle that he’d notice them and fall in love with them and end up with them forever.

He never did but it was too notable to ignore.

He made your heart thump louder. The blood stirring the cauldron of doom inside, building a pool of sweat in your palms and your pupils to grow wider. He was a beautiful man—it was almost embarrassing to think that he’d pay more attention to you than he did.

And there was a scorned inside for the scattered moments he did make you feel something more.

It was on days like this: when everyone was gone and fate had found you alone together when something clicked into place, drawing you together like moths to a flame and touch was a burning relief.

Having sex with Dean was an action that lit up the pitting feelings of doubt.

Every time your shirt came off—hideous.

Every time your pants came undone—ugly.

Every time he gave himself—unworthy.

And every time you let go—pathetic.

You took your bottom lip between your teeth and gnawed at it. Dean leaned against the frame but didn’t push. He never did.

“Why didn’t you go?”

He shrugged his shoulders. In his own bashful way, he looked down at his shoes.

“Didn’t want to, I guess,” he said. “Got better things to do than go see a city I’ve seen a hundred times before.”

There was more to do there. There were more girls there to choose from.

“Well it’s not anymore exciting here,” your eyes gave an unfortunate admission. “Just me.”

“You’re plenty exciting,” Dean lifted his head with a scoff. “I figured if you stayed behind then at least it be worth staying behind for.”

When he said phrases like that, it was so casual. It made you roll your eyes in a shallow disbelief he was flagrant with saying your worth anything. Wichita had more than you could ever offer.

You rested the side of your body on the door and clung to the doorknob on the other side tightly.

“I’m afraid you might be wrong on that one.”

Dean’s eyes flinched in curiosity. They searched your face unabashedly for answers it was unwilling to give.

“Why?” He asked. “We never get any time to ourselves. It’s… nice for a change, yeah?”

“Sure,” you agreed. “I just don’t think I’m worth staying behind for.”

He let out a laugh. No smile, just an amused laugh at the suggestion. You weren’t sure if you should feel miffed or reassured.

“Spend five hours in the car with Sam on a Saturday or spend the day with you? I’d much rather be here.”

His honesty was endearing. It was far different from the man you met so many years ago. He had grown comfortable, willing, in that time and if you thought hard on it, it was generally only around you.

For Dean, being vulnerable was cracking his soul open. It was as debilitating as your inability to see yourself as valuable was. But he was comfortable here, alone, and he was content in letting it bleed from every part of him.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Is there a plan I am unaware of?”

Your day was to be spent flipping through books and taking notes of what resolutions could help you all the most.

Dean shrugged again and kicked his foot out slightly. You knew what he wanted, hell, you wanted it too but you couldn’t feel that inside of you.

“I don’t know,” he played. “That’s really up to you.”

Ball, court.

“There’s no one here,” Dean reassured you. You could be loud. You could do what you wanted. You could take your time.

“I know,” you nodded your head. You twisted the knob on the other side of the door.

“We don’t have to,” he backed up with words. The last thing Dean wanted you to feel for him is resentment for propositioning you. “It’s alright. I can… I can,” he cleared his throat, “take care of myself.”

“No,” you said quicker than you meant to. “No.”

“No?”

“You don’t have to take care of it, Dean.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded at him as the tone shifted. In your hearts, the beating anticipating was in your throats. You could feel it in the jittering movement of your fingers and toes and the insatiable appetite that manifested inside.

The door you were holding on to opened slightly to gain him entry. He took the signal, brushing past you and not feeling cautious when his hand came to rest on your side as he pushed by.

It dawned on you as he entered that you’d never had sex in your room. It was always Dean’s and the one, singular occasion he caught you in the library on a day like this one and ate you out between the bookshelves.

You shut the door behind you as he stepped into the room and took it in differently than before. He’s been in it, sure, but when the circumstances change, everything changes too.

“You remodel?” He joked, pointing around the room that looked identical to all the others. “Looks nice.”

“Thanks,” you smiled. Leaning against the door, you folded your hands behind your back. “It was a real task, you know? All the painting and laying the wood.”

He nodded with a hum. He patrolled the space before shrugging off his flannel that rested atop a t-shirt.

You weren’t sure what he wanted exactly but you were hesitant to approach him.

Sitting, facing your bed from its place on the floor was a mirror. And you’d be fucking damned if you watched yourself fuck Dean Winchester through your reflection.

It might be the death of you.

And you didn’t want to curse Dean with that memory.

He kicked off his shoes without instruction. Pieces of himself began to unshed before you. First the shirt, then the shoes. His hands went to his belt, flicking it open and unraveling itself in swift motions that your own hands had learned to do before.

Dean didn’t look at you, he didn’t ask you to join him.

His hands went to the bottom of his shirt and as he lifted it up and over his head, you weren’t shameful to ogle him. That was why he was here—for you to feel him, touch him, worship him in ways he wouldn’t get elsewhere.

There were plenty of other girls in Wichita.

He tossed his shirt to join the flannel before looking at you. Dean held out his hand to you, beckoning you.

“Come here,” he said softly. It could have been enough for you at one time, but it wasn’t today.

You shook your head.

“You come to me.”

If you knew Dean correctly, he would, and he did.

Even in your doubts, having Dean near you was comfort. His eyes drank you in. Completely encapsulated by you and only you and he felt free in that space. He was giving and grateful.

So, he stood toe to toe with you. One of his hands creeped up your slides and slotted into the space where your hands created an opening to the back of you. He silently begged for you to untangle your hands, taking one of them in his own as he allowed the position to draw himself closer.

He held on to you in two ways: against you, pressing you into the door as his nose knocked your own, and his and your intertwined hands pressing into your back. You used your free one to cup his face. You hummed in agreement. Dean tilted his head, breathing in deeply as the skin of your face grazed his own. He could play a long time. The hand you let linger on his cheek brushed along the sides of his neck, folding itself around his back and gripping onto his opposite shoulder. His skin was hot to the touch. Dean let his fingers detached from yours and he cupped at your ass to pull you closer. There was nowhere closer than him. Flush against his body, feeling everything but the blood rushing through him and he soaked in the staggered breaths of anticipation.

You tipped your head away from his to look in his eyes.

His short stubble was tough under your palm. Nothing, however, could detract you from the way his eyes bore into you. He had lovely lashes, fluttering and romantic compared to his outward appearance of “tough man.” They complimented the way his eyes changed from welcome to conversation to lust.

Maybe it wasn’t love, but it was enough for now.

“How’s this gonna work?” You asked him, breath fanning his face.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” he mumbled. Eyes hooded, trapped on your lips as they wet themselves. “But we’ve got time. We can go slow.

You nodded like he read your mind. Slow, steady, different from other times.

“I don’t need slow,” you murmured. He gripped your ass harder than before, pushing you against him before letting go and running his hand smoothly over the rump.

“But I’ve got too many clothes on.”

“You’re damn right about that, sweetheart.”

Dean needs no true instructions.

Even in your wallowing pitiful despair of self-destruction, as long as you truly couldn’t see yourself everything would be fine. It would be fine. Dean’s hands roamed your body freely with the invitation. Hands large and free, they begged to grip and squeeze what they could but settled on unraveling the fruits of the goal. With every piece of clothes that came undone and piled themselves onto the floor at your feet, you spied Dean’s eyes grow shades of green. Each deeper than before—tantalizing from opportunity and wolfish in a hunt.

His hands met the tops of your bottoms, trading the top of it with his fingers as they grazed the skin of your stomach. You laid your head back against the door, admiring the way he had the smallest sign of a smile on his lips as he looked at you. Something glimmered, something gleamed in his eyes when he looked back. Dean leaned in, planting a light kiss on the edge of your lip but not on them before falling to his knees.

Clad yet in his beltless jeans, Dean ran his hands over the curve of your waist and down your legs. The agony of time made your heart thump. Thump, thump, thump against your ribcage and into your mind and into the place where his head was mere inches from. You loved the way Dean made you feel—you just hated how you felt on your own.

The muscles of his shoulders worked elegantly as he removed your bottoms and re-ran his hands upwards along your skin. Light goosebumps formed along his trail and he smiled, letting out the lightest laugh in admiration.

Dean’s thumbs found themselves on the edges of your underwear and he paused.

“Like I said,” he was gruff, “we’ve got all the time in the world. So, how do you want me?”

There were few men in the world who would offer themselves to a woman. Be freely tasked with whatever she wanted, not he.

But again, you hated decision making. From dinners to motels to books to people, you hated being the shot caller.

“Use your imagination.” You settled on. “I’m all yours, Dean.”

And since he was already on his knees, he supposed he’d start there.

Dean bent an index finger and rested it at the top of your underwear before dragging it downward, slowly watching your eyes and chest as he inched closer and closer to your core. He didn’t stagger as he crossed a threshold of your covered clit and continued further as he wrist turned and his palm rested against the front of you, his fingers pressing into you from above you panties.

He rubbed his hand back and forth, arching his fingers to press inwards but not moving the Fabric away but caressing it into you. Dean shifted his hand upwards and outstretched a finger on your clothed clit to massage small circles on the bundle of nerves. His opposite shoulder knocked into your leg, opening the space for him as on of your hands shot to a dresser top beside the door and the other rested on his head.

He could feel your hand falling with every ministration. He turned his head in the direction of your hand, the heat of your hand on his face pulsing as the blood was rushing.

“Are you gonna keep fingering me like a middle school boy or really make me feel something, Winchester?” You looked down at him.

He stopped moving his finger.

“Well you told me to use my imagination, sweetheart. You gotta be more specific than that.”

“I want you to eat me out,” you clarified. “I want you to use your fingers and then I want you to fuck me before everyone else comes home.”

Dean’s eyes lit up. A smirk, followed by a “yes ma’am” gave him the orders he needed.

In your imagination, you thought it’d be here by the door. He’d eat you out from the floor and then fuck you against the door but for some, god-fucking-awful reason you can’t place, Dean got up from the floor and walked toward the bed.

His reflection of his back toward the bed reminded you of what you didn’t want to see in it—you.

Dean took a second to undo his jeans and remove himself from them. He was strained already against his briefs but didn’t care to take care of himself first or make it the “problem” needing to be fixed.

And like before, he extended his hand out to you.

“Come on,” he called out and it was hard to ignore the order itself.

A wave of nerves washed over you and made you cold. The sudden realization that you were nearly nude, he too, and your brash words of sex were all that was on the table became too much of a reality. His outstretched hand remained cold.

If you hadn’t known better, you could have assumed a poltergeist had appeared in the room. The sudden chill, the bucket of water dropping on reality bursting a bubble of pretend before it was too late. You were self-conscious and it began to leak like a sieve through the floorboards and walls and all it took was for Dean to truly, really look at you to see that something had changed drastically in the minutes it took for him to move, remove his pants, and hold out his hand.

The romance, the lust, or the sex had died in the moment.

Your hand grasped the edge of the dresser tightly and you couldn’t bare to look at Dean. A shameful, whimpering dog-like mentality was embarrassing and you didn’t fathom it would take on this large of a life. It encapsulated your wants and your needs and was now preventing you from finishing a job that you’d become all too familiar with and it should have been easy.

The mirror reflected those thoughts.

“Hey,” Dean closed his hand and his brows furrowed. “Hey.”

He received no response, just a near frozen you. You shook your head no.

“W-what’s wrong?” He questioned in a state of confusion. Things had changed so quickly. You clicked your tongue, shutting your eyes tightly before opening them again and looking anywhere but him and to the left.

“It’s…” you staggered your words. “It’s, I just, I thought that… well…”

You laughed incredulously at yourself. The hand once gripping the dresser flew to your face in embarrassment and over your eyes.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

Dean could only reiterate his “hey” over and over as he approached you calmly. He shushed in reassurance as he tried to remove the hand that covered your eyes.

“No, no, Dean—I’m fine, really, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Dean said quietly. “What’s going on, hm? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you let him move the hand from your eyes yet you couldn’t look at him. “Nothings wrong I just… I just needed a second, that’s all.”

He didn’t believe you.

He never did when times like these flared up. Whether it be about what he knew or didn’t, any time where you, Sam, or anyone else had a sliver of doubt or injury or sadness, Dean would stop his world to help even if it hurt his own.

“Sweetheart, I think we both know that isn’t true.”

“I’m good. Really.”

He studied you for a time. Just looking, watching the way the muscles in your face twitched, the lack of contact you gave back to him. Dean was far from stupid even if he had his moments; he could see through the veil.

“Then come on,” he proposed. “Let’s just sit down and we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” You knew he wouldn’t force you to.

Dean made the slightest move to step backwards and your eyes flashed in the direction of the mirror.

“It’s ok!” Goddamn. How many times were you going to say it?

You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him back. “It’s alright!”

Dean shook his head.

“No, it’s not.”

“We can just do it here,” you suggested. It wasn’t exactly the romantic afternoon he had planned out in his head. “Right here.”

“Against the door?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. Your gaze popped again in the direction of the mirror.

Dean caught it this time.

“The doors fine with me,” you restated assuredly. Dean nodded but didn’t make a move to finish what he started before.

Instead, he lifted one of his hands and cupped your face gently. His green eyes bore into you like lasers, prodding for answers he wasn’t sure he’d get but attempting to discover them nonetheless. There was a slice of pity, a lingering disappointment he couldn’t mask but above all else, Dean wanted you to be truthful to him.

He’d spent forever being lied to. Being told that there was only one path to getting what people needed out of life and listening to the directions of people who didn’t truly care what happened to him nor what he wanted. In a small corner of his own personal heaven, he wanted it to be nothing short of perfect even if perfection could never be attained.

And lies were always the cause of its destruction.

“What’s wrong with the bed, Sweetheart?”

You shook your head.

“This ain’t like a… monster-under-the-bed kind of situation, is it?” Dean joked. You scoffed, a smile cracking itself on your face and he could feel the way it grew underneath his hand.

“No,” you laughed. “There’s nothing in here except you and me.”

“Good,” he said lowly. “Then what’s wrong with that mirror on the wall?”

The smile on your face fell.

“Th-the mirror?”

Dean turned his body slightly to open the pathway to the mirror. Floor length and bolted into the wall sat a mirror across from the bed. It was there when you all arrived at this destination and you had never bothered to move it, only growing to hate its location when you got up, got dressed, and when you met the reflection on accident when you were halfway to self pleasure.

“You keep looking at it like it might come alive.”

“There’s nothing in the mirror.”

No real demons, at least.

“Then come to the bed,” Dean offered again. “I’m not twenty-five anymore.”

The ground was too hard even if the idea enticed him. He’d work you to your orgasm and then need help getting up—one too many throw downs with evil and the world catches up with you.

“We could always go to your room,” you suggested.

Dean’s hand caressed your face. You knew he knew you were avoiding something larger than just a room.

“What’s wrong with the mirror, baby?”

Ah shit. Baby.

“Dean—“ you started in argument against him but he wouldn’t let you. He wasn’t letting this go until it was like all other mysteries in his life and it was solved.

“No,” he argued back. “No, and you know you’re not telling the truth. What’s wrong with the mirror?”

“Nothings wrong with the mirror!”

“Yes there is,” his voice was getting tougher, rough around the edges in frustration with not you, but the thoughts swirling within you.

“No—“

“Yes!”

He let go of your face and grabbed your hand.

“Dean—“

Dean took one step toward the mirror and you broke the façade.

“Fine!” You grunted, tugging your hand out of his grasp. “Fine! It’s the fucking mirror, okay?”

“Well—“

“I don’t like it! It’s at the end of my fucking bed and I can’t stand looking in it.”

Dean’s eyes shifted again to a slight sadness and you wanted to throw a brick at the glass.

“Sw-“

You cut him off. “All I see when I look in that reflection is someone who’s… disgusting. I just… I can’t look at myself anymore and I certainly don’t want to watch myself doing something I don’t deserve to do.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Dean wanted to reset the day. “You’re not disgusting, sweetheart. Why did you say that, wh—“

“You could have gone with Sam and had someone else for the day, Dean. Someone pretty and sexy and fits all the right boxes for you. I don’t know why you didn’t go.”

“I don’t want them” he said your name firmly. “I stayed because I want you. I don’t want them. They don’t know me or what I like and I chose to be here.”

“Because it’s easy or because it’s convenient?”

“Because it’s perfect.”

“It’s not perfect, Dean.”

Dean stood there aloof in his briefs. Across from him, you were the most vulnerable he’d ever seen you and you were beautiful. There was nothing that caused him to feel repulsed or rejected. He was encapsulated by a glow he’d grown fond of and wanted to be held in. You were gorgeous, underwear and all, and nothing you’d say was going to change his mind.

“To me it is.”

Dean’s head tipped to the side in observance again. “I don’t know what you see—I won’t know what you see. But to me, I see someone who checks all my boxes and it takes nothing else.”

“I can’t look at myself.”

“What if I showed you someone else?”

It didn’t sound right to you. Dean could see it on your face as the confusion fizzled the upset and he wanted to walk it back to clarify yet didn’t.

“You’re not ask-“

“No one else is here,” he shook his head as he reproached you. He grasped one of your hands and hesitantly brought you to the mirror.

“But I want to show you someone else.”

You wanted to protest against him so loudly but when he stopped you in front of the mirror and stood behind you, the words died on your lips. You saw the same person.

The vision in front of you was lumpy and frumpy and the choice of underwear was quickly becoming something to regret.

“Who do you see?” Dean asked you. One of his hands rested on your shoulder, digging into the spot where your neck and shoulder met. The other held onto your own and intertwined your fingers gently.

“I have a feeling you won’t like what I say.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I see… an unfortunate woman. She’s not a supermodel and she’s not a celebrity. So… she’s not the standard of beauty. Her hair’s not done and her makeup is well… not ready for the magazines and she chose the wrong day to wear this color bra.”

“Anything else?” Dean listened.

“The man behind her is too handsome for her. He deserve someone who matches what he gives and that’s not the person in the mirror.”

Dean let that sit in the air for a moment. The seconds felt heavy and you wanted to look away from yourself and crawl under the covers and never see the light of day again.

“Can I tell you what I see?” Dean asked you and you shrugged.

“I can’t imagine it’d be any different than me.”

Dean cleared his throat and from his reflection, his eyes crawled along every inch of you that was exposed to him. You were under a microscope and he the scientist.

“I see my best friend,” he started and you knew you were quickly sinking. “I see a woman who is so strong and capable and caring and good. I see pretty hair and pretty eyes and maybe… maybe…the best lips in this bunker. But I may have to take that back when I look at myself.”

You squeezed his hand.

“I see a woman who has the most beautiful body.” He took the hand from your shoulder and slowly ran the backs of his fingers along your spine. “Every part of her distracts me. I catch myself starting at her when she’s not looking and I have to look away before she notices. Every color looks good on her and she looks the prettiest like this.”

“Anything else?” You said quietly.

Dean looked you in the eyes from the reflection. There were a million things he could say.

“How long do we have?” He laughed. The sound bounced off you; his chest vibrating against your back.

“I haven’t always been the best… anything… when it comes to women. But goddamn do you make me want to be someone else, sweetheart. Like maybe I could be a rock star and you can be the most devoted groupie or… or maybe I could be a firefighter and you can be a school teacher who can’t wait for me to get home.”

“I think you’re projecting, Dean,” you chuckled and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you tight against his bare chest.

“The woman I see in this mirror is perfect to me.”

“I wish she could see that for herself,” you said dejectedly.

“Then let me show her how,” he prompted. His mouth at the base of your ear, his breath was hot on the side of your face. “Let me show you how.”

“I do—“

He said your name strongly. “If you don’t face it, you won’t overcome it.”

A half a second you thought he might have read that from his Dad’s journal back in the day. Perhaps it was a statement he had grown up with but no matter that root, he sought the end to the cause.

“What were you thinking?”

“Nothing different from what you had said before,” Dean’s hands began to shift. They curved over your back and to the front of your body. You watched in the mirror was they traced along your sides and over your hips. The slow agony of his glide caught the fabric of your underwear and begged for them to be pulled away, but he let them remain.

“I’m going to eat you out, like you asked,” you caught his eyes in the mirror and blood rushed to your face. Cheeks hot and flustered, you can’t believe how blatant you had been before. “And then I’m going to fuck you like it’s our last night on this fucking earth, alright?”

“And what of the mirror?”

“You’re gonna watch yourself, us, through it from the bed.”

“I don’t know if I can do that, Dean.”

You panicked a little inside. But his hands kept roaming and his eyes were changing their shades again, and in it all, all you could feel was him. His hard body, his rough hands, the breath on your face, and words he spoke overtook the insecurities that plagued you.

“You can,” he assured. His long fingers played at the strap of your bra, inching it away from your shoulder and letting it slip down your arm.

“I know you can because you always listen to me,” he whispered in your ear. “So? What do you say?”

The same fingers that let the strap fall moved under your arm and around to the nearly exposed breast. His hand snaked around your body and up to cup the one breast before squeezing the flesh tightly. You shuddered a breath and he knew he had you.

Dean took your earlobe between his teeth and let go with a small ‘pop.’ His hand squeezed and soothed, the other sitting patiently at your hip. Fingers tugged at the exposed nipple and you watched it harden like magic in the mirror.

“I’m not doing anything until you tell me, baby.”

You met his eyes again.

“Fuck me, Dean.”

And he smiled into your neck.

There was something unexpectedly titillating watching Dean go down on you.

It was daunting at first. Dean had led you to the bed, sitting you on the end and crept up onto the mattress behind you. Your reflection stared back hauntingly—dreading yet curious as to what it may appear as in front of you. It was strange, watching Dean and feeling his touch but not truly looking into his eyes. His hands caressed your body and the seriousness of his need to prove your mind wrong was enough to challenge yourself.

He wanted to prove you wrong. Dean wanted to show you how beautiful you were in the throes of ultimate vulnerability and passion.

“Look,” he positioned your head to look in the mirror across the bed.

“I want you to keep looking, alright? Even when we move or I move you, I need you to keep looking.”

“What if I wa—“ You turned your head to the side to look at him but he took his hand and repositioned your head.

“What if I want to look at you?”

“I’m right here,” Dean looked at himself in the mirror. He puffed out his chest slightly, you biting your lip in his boyish confidence that never seemed to leave him.

You knew, however, how much Dean gave to everyone else. One day, you promised, you’d give Dean something he needed too.

“Now,” he rubbed the sides of your arms before moving out of the way and off the bed. “Lay down.”

“But—“

“I’ll tell you how to do it,” he dismissed.

You shimmed up the bed slightly and leaned back. Your back hit the mattress with the thud and you weren’t sure what to do with your hands, so you just folded them across your stomach. Dean scoffed and looked down at you to which your brows furrowed.

“What?” You questioned.

“You’re acting like you’ve never done this before.”

“Well,” you countered. “In a way I haven’t.”

“Yeah but we’ve done this before,” he made a gesture between the two of you with his finger. “Relax.”

You nodded your head and breathed in deeply. You had done this before. You had. He’s done it a hundred times and if you were counting, he actually liked doing it so it was more than a hundred times over the last few years.

Dean knocked his knee against yours, tipping his head in silent order to open them which you complied obediently with. Now, spread before him, your heart was racing.

“Sit up on your elbows.”

You did.

“When I get down,” Dean warned. “You’re gonna see yourself. And if you get too overwhelmed, you tell me and we stop.”

God, you loved him. You really did.

“Okay,” you said in a quiet nod.

Before you could back down, before he went down, he leaned across to you and kissed you gently on the lips.

“I mean it, yeah?”

You agreed. “Yeah.”

Dean hummed and kneeled on the floor against his better judgement. His hands that rested on your thighs went to your hips, catching the fabric between his palms and slowly, he pulled down your panties and helped remove them from your legs. Above his head, you could see yourself in the mirror—the most private part of you wholly covered by Dean’s head and the expanse of his back took up the rest of the space.

He lifted on your legs off the bed and onto his shoulder. He peppered a few scattered kisses on the inside of your thighs as he repositioned himself for the taking. You were right there, waiting. Dean’s own want was growing by the second and all he wanted to do was taste you.

He hooked his arm around your leg and brought his hand to your core, thumb pressing into you with a jolt. And then he pulled his head inwards. Painting a stripe with his tongue, that was all it took to let the fear escape your body.

Dean was at the alter of you; the reflection emboldened your acceptance of yourself and his actions that formed a deeper well within you. He kept going. His head moving, bobbing for every motion he made. His fingers pulled you open as his tongue painted pictures inside of you.

Each stoke of his tongue, of his fingers along the sides and his thumb pressing into your clit made the blood rush down. You throbbed, burning for something more as you watched nothing but the back of his head and the muscles of his back constrict with his ambition.

Dean watched you watch yourself. He was proud of you—how you didn’t truly watch him or fall to your back instead. You mewled, gasping with a jolt as he prompted himself to use his fingers more. He took it as a sign. Instead of palming himself on the outset of his briefs, he took his other hand and brought it to your pussy that beckoned it.

“You good baby?”

He moved the hand that was already there to your thigh and groped it. You split for a moment from the mirror to look at him. His cheeks were flush, chest laboring with a breathlessness he welcomed.

“Perfect. I’m perfect.”

He ran his tongue over his lips as he smiled and your heart skipped a beat.

“Damn right,” he encouraged.

You anticipated him to continue on with his mouth but he sat back on his knees on the floor. Straining in his briefs, Dean just looked at you before rising with a grunt and kneeling next to you on the bed.

“Sit up,” he pointed to the end of the bed and you did as told again.

“Wha-“

“Shh,” he hushed. He sat sideways next to you with one of his legs tucked under him. Dean’s hand reached out and rested on the space between your stomach and cunt and when you looked up, he clicked his tongue at you.

“Mirror,” he redirect you and suddenly, his fingers were inching lower and lower until they were meeting the wet remnants of his mouths product.

Your mouth fell open in the slightest; a rewarding breath escaped your lips as his finger, then two breeched you and met your warmth in an eager welcome. As he pumped his fingers in and out of you and gathered the wetness that built quickly, Dean’s forehead fell onto the top of your head and his body leaned into you.

With every staggered breath he was more rewarded. His fingers relished the sounds your pussy made as he sped up his wrist faster.

“Oh,” you barely mumbled out. “Fuck, Dean.”

Dean hummed and the rumble went through you. He kept his pace and you wanted to close your eyes, stall the feelings building inside of you but didn’t. You didn’t disobey his wants and efforts of helping you get over this self deprecation that was sealing fate before there was a chance to solve it.

“Dean,” you said again but not worried. He didn’t stop at his name.

His fingers curled inside of you, hitting the spot you ached for him to find without cause. The muscle in your leg jolted and your hand went to his arm, tightly holding on as the other dug into the sheets of your bed and formed new wrinkles in its wake.

The heat was fast in its approach. Screeching from an abyss of darkness to only be awakened by the light of him, your end was near. It was greedy to want it all the time yet Dean was more than willing to give forever if it meant he’d feel this way.

“Come on,” he egged you on as you clenched the two fingers. “Baby come on, I’ve got you.”

“F-fuck, Dean, I-Christ,” you writhed in pleasure. He was leaning against you and his eyes closed let the reflection before you come alive in more ways than one. He was all yours—not a single word or person or thing could change it. Completely and utterly devoted to you and for once, when you looked in the mirror, you felt beautiful.

Your breath hitched in your throat and there was little else you could say as the room was filled with nothing but your heavy breaths and the sick sounds of your pleasure.

Those sounds, the mirror, and Dean’s words were all it would take to send you over a ledge. The burning, bright light of relief was striking. It was blistering in its blaze and entirely too much to send words tumbling out of your lips. All you could do was dig your fingertips into his arm and watch your body twitch at the intensity.

It shook your legs; shoulders twitching with the muscles in your stomach convulsing. Dean slowed his fingers to a stop. He held them inside of you for a second before removing them as carefully as he could and he rested the hand above your knee. Your finish on his fingers wet your skin and brought a coolness that hadn’t been there before.

Dean pushed his head against yours. He opened his eyes and met yours face to face, not in the mirror.

As he hoped, there was something inside of yours that changed. There was no regret and the cruelty of your mind was the past for now—even if the evil crept in the shadows around the gleam that surrounded you now.

You were beautiful. You were perfect.

And if you couldn’t vocalize those words yourself, at least he knew you could see them.

“Did you see what I see?” He asked lowly. He wasn’t done with you yet.

“Yes,” you whispered. “I see it.”

“Good.”

“But I don’t want to look at me anymore.” Your eyes weren’t tortured. “I just want to look at you.”

When he fucked you into the mattress, you did. You took in him and only him and when everyone returned when the sun had long gone down, you felt anew when Dean glanced at you from across the table and that glow of renewal hadn’t left you.

As always, comments and reblogs encourage writers the most! I thank you for reading and I am so thankful you took the time out of your day to read what I’ve put out here. Thank you!

[balletfilmss]

ISN’T SHE SO SWEET?

✸ pairing: percy jackson x daughter of artemis! reader smau

✸ notes: requested by @sunnflowerss-wp !! this prompt was fun & i looooooved incorporating my hunters of artemis girlies <3

…now playing: there she goes — the la’s

percyjacks: “but percy, she’s so scary” are we looking at the same person? 🤨 new moon=yn appreciation day

tagged: yn.ln

view all comments

team.leo: look i said that ONCE bc she shot me and i feared for my life

╰┈➤ percyjacks: excuses excuses, if she shot you then you deserved it

╰┈➤ team.leo: BRO THE GAME WAS OVER???

╰┈➤ percyjacks: LALALAL 👨‍🦯

╰┈➤ annabethc: did…did you just use a blind emoji for not being able to hear?

╰┈➤ percyjacks: omg beth let me live

piedpiper: EVERY day should be yn appreciation day wdym 😒

╰┈➤ percyjacks: yk what piper, you’re so right, my sincerely apologies to everyone

yn.ln: NOOOOO BABE YOU’RE EXPOSING ALL OF MY SECRETSSSSS

╰┈➤ percyjacks: sweetheart…you’re about as secretive as piper is straight

╰┈➤ yn.ln: HEY

lieutenant.thal: new moon = thalia visits day, hand over my girl

╰┈➤ percyjacks: im sorry, WHOSE girl???

╰┈➤ lieutenant.thal: did i stutter?

annabethc: those cookies in the second pic were bomb asf, you’re welcome

╰┈➤ yn.ln: make more beth, im begging 🙏🙏

neeks._: i’ve quite literally seen her try and bite people’s fingers off before

╰┈➤ percyjacks: what’s your point? 😒

╰┈➤ neeks._: oh there isn’t one im js sayin

gracefully.jason: she’s pretty, but where’s my man percy at?

╰┈➤ yn.ln: you mean MY man. i will hunt you down, grace

╰┈➤ percyjacks: she’s so sweet 🥰

…now playing: tek it — cafuné

yn.ln: the peeta to my katniss 🤍🏹

tagged: percyjacks

view all comments

lieutenant.thal: babe it’s not too late to join 🙏🙏

╰┈➤ percyjacks: yn block her PLEASE

╰┈➤ yn.ln: no to both of you 🤍

hazel_lev: YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTIE TOOTIE

╰┈➤ yn.ln: JSJSKSK ILY HAZE <33

percyjacks: idk who this peeta guy is but i think i look pretty damn good 😮‍💨

╰┈➤ yn.ln: look, i love you but don’t disrespect peeta mellark like that

piedpiper: you guys are cut but im gonna throw up next time im within a 3 mile radius omg

╰┈➤ team.leo: this is how we all feel when you and annabeth are all over each other btw!

╰┈➤ annabethc: you’re just mad because you can’t get a girl

╰┈➤ piedpiper: GET HIS ASS BABY 🗣️ (suck it, valdez)

gracefully.jason: idk what tf bread and cats have to do with this post but go yn 🙌

╰┈➤ yn.ln: …

╰┈➤ percyjacks: jason��� bro

╰┈➤ yn.ln: i have never sighed so hard at a comment before in my life

reyna.ara: gods, i love it when his face is hidden & all i can see is you, you’re so gorgeous bae <3

╰┈➤ yn.ln: stawwwwwp 🤭

╰┈➤ pecyjacks: yeah. stop.

╰┈➤ reyna.ara: percy. three’s a crowd.

thegoat_: it’s so unfortunate to say but i took two thirds of these pictures

╰┈➤ yn.ln: grover do NOT act like i dont take cutie pics of you & juniper ☹️( reminder: 🏹)

╰┈➤ thegoat_: you are absolutely right, pretend I didn’t say anything (pls but the bow down)

percyjacks: gods, i love you 🩵

╰┈➤ yn.ln: i love you too, seaweed brain 🤎

[onlyangel4]

cowboy like me. ls2. smau.

logan sargeant x cowgirl/small town country singer!reader

in which logan thinks he has lost everything but a trip to the south helps him find the love of his life.

author's note: grant is a fictional character, for this he is one of logan's best friends.

faceclaim: ella langley

y/ninsta

liked by y/bff, friend1, friend2 and 431 others

tagged: y/bff

y/ninsta: life lately

view all 23 comments

y/bff: has nutmeg decided to not be a dick anymore

y/ninsta: how many times do i have to apologise for my horse

y/bff: she almost killed me!

friend1: can't wait to see you perform this weekend, gonna cheer embarrassingly loud

y/ninsta: i'll take all the support i can get

logansargeant posted a story tagging grantwilson

written: trusting grant with directions was a bad idea, we are 100% lost right now

y/ninsta posted a story

written: playing here tonight, if you loved me you would show up and listen to my silly little songs

y/ninsta posted a story

written: tonight's fit

logansargeant posted a story

written: recharging with some live music in nashville

y/ninsta posted a story

written: about to introduce a man to nutmeg, this is going to end terribly

logansargeant posted two stories

story one written: this is nutmeg. shortly after this photo was taken nutmeg tried to kill me. i shall be riding a different horse today

story two written: this is billy, he didn't try to kill me

y/ninsta posted a story

written: i am once again riding nutmeg because she tries to kill everyone but me

grantwilson posted a story tagging logansargeant

written: i just picked logan up from the ranch, this trip is going just how i planned it

y/ninsta posted a story

written: i think i clean up pretty well

logansargeant

liked by y/ninsta, alexalbon, grantwilson and 1,293,382 others

tagged: y/ninsta

logansargeant: three months ago grant forced me on a roadtrip that i did not want to go on. and i ended up never going back to florida. i was at a very low point mentally and i had no idea what my next step was going to be but meeting you changed my life.

y/n your light has helped me in ways you will never understand, thank you for always being around to listen, for teaching me how to ride a horse and always being up for fun little adventures. i love you so much and i can't wait to see what the future brings us

view all 183,384 comments

y/ninsta: i am obsessed with you

logansargeant: promise me, i am more obsessed with you

grantwilson: just call me cupid

logansargeant: no

y/ninsta: no

alexalbon: so the man that used to make fun of me for having a zoo now lives with animals

y/ninsta: two horses, three dogs, two cats and two rabbits

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

@bibissparkles

@milkysoop

@hadids-world

@callsignwidow

@barcelonaloverf1life

@queen-of-the-hunt

@piastrams

@kravitzwhore

@a-beaverhausen

@fangirlforever2000

@formulaal

@azeal-peal

@magical-spit

@that-one-little-soybean

@raizelchrysanderoctavius

@zatarias-pandora

@unknownmystery22

@anotheranotherblogwoah

@leclercdream

@charlesgirl16

@kikiki04

@dullypully

@awritingtree

@stylesmoonlight12

@pippyth3hippy

@hc-dutch

@whosra

@lancestrollsgf

@dying-inside-but-its-classy

@vulkaari

@random-human02

@daisyfreecs

@fandommaniac07

@mbioooo0000

@novelswithariana

@exotic-iris13

@natashaalinovaromanoff1984

@colmathgames2

@ajordan2020

@sltwins

@nichmeddar

[gallierhouse]

“is armand a coward?” “is he insane?” “is he smart or stupid?” “is he honest?” IS HE BORING THO? the only question is he boring?????

I know you’re being silly, but I have actually written about this before. Multiple times, actually. But my organizational system is so bad I have no idea where any of those posts are. It’ll be in the tag somewhere if you want to look. I’ll sum it up here, though.

Armand both is and isn’t boring. In a vacuum, he’s an interesting person. He’s 500 years old and he’s got no hobbies to speak of besides gardening and torture. He’s got a penchant for v-necks. He led a cult and burnt people alive and then he led another cult and had them murder people on stage every night for a hundred years. He used to wander museums at night. He has a large collection of sunglasses. He’s been following a painting of him paid for with his body for 500 years but he never took it home or destroyed it. He’s surprisingly adept at real estate for someone who lived an ascetic lifestyle for 200 years. He’s got neat handwriting. He doesn’t have a real accent. He’s numbered his memories chronologically. So all that’s interesting. Even if he were actually a soft, beige pillow, he’d still be interesting by virtue of having lived five centuries. But Louis finds him boring because Armand’s always trying to please him. Armand has an idea of what Louis wants (“not Lestat”), so everything he does is designed to not be Lestat, and to fulfill the submissive role in their D/S relationship. By being who he thinks Louis wants him to be, he makes himself boring. He’s not actually boring, but Louis only ever gets to see the boring version of him, because it’s all he’ll ever show Louis. He’s always modulating his behavior to meet the expectations of the people he wants approval from, which makes him boring to that person. It’s boring if someone only ever does what you want and what you say. “You can pick what we have for dinner, I don’t mind” every night for 77 years. It’s boring!

Armand’s not boring. He’s just backed himself into a corner that makes everyone he wants approval or attention from see him as boring. It’s a silly problem to have. Louis would probably be more attracted to him if he showed the side of himself he shows to Lestat. But Armand’s so devoted to pretending to be a civilized, well-adjusted person who isn’t violent and isn’t unstable and isn’t selfish and isn’t anything like Lestat, and isn’t anything besides stable and safe and patient and kind and loving, that he’s filed off his own edge. You can see him compartmentalize it. He hunts alone. He leaves the penthouse. That’s something he does for himself. The only time he allows himself to be whoever he really is without the expectation of someone else, and it’s out of sight for both the viewer and Louis. He declaws himself for the sake of others, and he’s naturally hurt when people say things like, “Where are your claws? Why don’t you have claws? You’re boring!” It’s a mean thing to say to someone who spends all their time and energy attempting to be interesting to you, even if their method is self-defeating and stupid. I think Armand might think of himself as boring, though. But his metric for what’s normal and abnormal is so far removed from any conceivable standard of normalcy it’s not really a valid opinion to hold. He’s silly, okay?

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning, fem reader

chapter warning/tags: swearing, p in v penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it y'all), use of "angel", sukuna is being sketchy, totally in love with choso, i think the choice is clear right A/N: sooooo slowly falling in love with choso, but things can't stay perfect forever right? (¬⤙¬ ) honestly I just really wanted to write more choso smut bc I'm addicted but like, wtf is up with sukuna now. ALSO someone asked how many chapters there will be, and as of right now I'm ending at 15! but if I get more ideas of the story doesn't feel wrapped up then I'll keep it going until it does.

index part eleven | part thirteen

part twelve word count : 2,146

your sleepover with Choso had not gone unnoticed by both Yuji and Sukuna. after finishing breakfast with Choso, you’d indulged in a long-awaited nap. when you woke up and found him still sound asleep, you thought it was the perfect time for a bathroom break. the only problem? Choso shared a bathroom with Sukuna. 

as you quietly closed Choso’s bedroom door with a soft click, a throat cleared, startling you like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head. you slowly turned to see Sukuna standing in his doorway, a hand on the knob, his expression unreadable. 

“you’re… still in your pajamas.” he murmured, his tone a strange blend of question and statement. 

you weren’t sure why you felt anxious; after all, he’d been mia for god knows how long. as you tried to decipher his mood, you realized you were never good at picking up on his cues. 

if you had been, you might have braced yourself for the sudden, loud slam of his fist against the wall.

“shhh!” you hissed, pressing a finger to your lips and silently hoping he hadn’t just woken Choso – let’s face it, the guy could probably sleep through anything.

“I think I might throw up.” Sukuna growled, storming toward the bathroom and slamming the door behind him hard enough to rattle the walls. you stood there, mouth agape, trying to process what had just happened.

fortunately, Choso remained asleep when you tiptoed back into his room. you decided it was a good idea to wait until he was awake before leaving his room again. 

after that, Sukuna had literally vanished from the house.

two days later, he still hadn’t come home. two days later, and you hadn’t slept in Choso’s room again. two days later… and you were falling in love.

Choso had thrown himself into being attentive, practically anticipating your every need. want a snack? he was off the couch before you could even think about it. feet sore from a night out with Yuji? he’d whisk your shoes off and start rubbing your feet right away. it was like he was made for this; providing you with attention and care without missing a beat. 

now, you lay on his bed while he played with your hair, one hand gently stroking your head and the other flipping through tv channels. you were practically purring with every soft caress, and he adored it. 

“can I ask you something?” Choso suddenly said, his hand still massaging your scalp. you nodded lightly, keeping your eyes closed in bliss. “you haven’t stayed in my room since that night. is it because I did something wrong?”

your eyes flew open as you sat up, your expression softening at the sight of his blush. “oh, Choso, no – you didn’t do anything wrong. I just… thought it might be weird for everyone else if I stayed in here all the time.” and secretly you worried about what would happen if Sukuna saw you leaving again.

“who cares what they think?” Choso pouted, giving you those puppy-dog eyes while his hand relaxed on the back of his head. “do you want to sleep in here?”

you hesitated for a moment, your heart racing at the invitation. “I mean… I’d love to.” you replied, a small smile creeping onto your face. “but what if you get sick of me?”

Choso shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “like I could get sick of you. unless you drool on my pillow again, then yeah I might get a lil sick of you.”

you slapped his arm while your mouth dropped open. “it was the one time! we’d just pulled an all-nighter!” he threw his head back in laughter, the sound like music to your ears. “if I promise not to drool, do you want me to stay in here tonight?” 

“tonight it is!” he said with a grin, relief evident in his face. he shifted to make space for you, and you settled in beside him, feeling the warmth radiate from his body.

as you lay there, the soft hum of the tv in the background as the two of you watched netflix, you found yourself stealing glances at Choso. his brows furrowed in concentration as he watched Bridgerton (you’d gotten him hooked), and you couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked.

if he had noticed you staring, he didn’t show it, but when he reached for your hand to intertwine your fingers you felt a thrill shoot through you. he hadn’t moved his eyes from the tv, although you could feel his body warm at the contact with yours. you leaned your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat start to pick up.

“are you getting comfortable?” Choso asked as his hand returned to stroke your hair, lulling you into a blissful state.

“mhm.” you purred as he gave light scratches to your scalp, tracing down your back softly. “but I want to watch Anthony confess to Kate, so I’m not falling asleep just yet.”

“the tension between them has been physically unbearable to watch all season.” Choso groaned and you chuckled at his enthusiasm. when he caught you laughing at him, he pinched your shoulder in retaliation. “I’m just saying, they both have been drooling over each other every episode!”

“you can’t blame them, it can be hard to confess your feelings to someone.” when you realized your words might seem like a jab at him, you quickly continued. “at least in their situation, he’s courting her sister.”

“at least you don’t have a sister I have to get through.” Choso smirked down at you, a teasing glimmer in his eyes. “even though it did take me too long to confess.”

the two of you had watched two more episodes, both commenting back and forth about the Bridgerton drama. everything felt right in your world – Choso was softly giving you affectionate touches, you’d gotten him addicted to rom-com tv, and you were blissfully happy. 

“Choso?” you whispered, nuzzling into his shirt. he hummed in response as he set his chin on top of your hair. “how soon is too soon?”

his heartbeat picked up faster under your ear. if you’d been looking at him, you would’ve seen his cheeks flush pink immediately. “for what?” he asked.

it was all too easy to get him flustered, and the thrill of it drove you mad. your hand caressed his abdomen, traveling lower and lower, slowly aiming for his waistband. once your fingers danced along the edge of his sweatpants, you felt him tense.

“oh.” Choso breathed, body going rigid as you continued to dip your fingers just below the waistline. “I-I don’t think there’s such a thing as too soon.”

“hm, you don’t?” you teased lightly before lifting your chin to gaze up at him. sure enough, his face was hot and red as he stared back down at you. “do you wanna…”

“yes.” his answer came out as fast as lightning, before he grabbed your chin and pulled you up to kiss you. when his lips met yours, you immediately open your mouth to allow his tongue to spit-swap with yours. Choso groaned as your hand dipped fully underneath his pants to palm his growing erection under his boxers. 

only seconds into teasingly rubbing him and he had flipped you over to land on top of you, grinding his clothed dick into your hips as he panted into your mouth. Choso’s hands worked their way up your top, pulling your bra down to rest underneath your tits and groping at them.

“fuck, I just can’t get enough of you.” Choso groaned as he dipped his head into your neck, lightly sucking on your skin as you arched your back to meet his rolling thrusts. “wan’ t’ make you feel good.”

within a mere minute, Choso removed all of your clothing as well as your own. you’d been too embarrassed to really look at his dick the first time, worried about your own image, but now – you felt warmth pooling between your legs at the sight. his bright pink tip leaked pre-cum already as he pumped himself with one hand, prepping himself before he settled between your legs.

Choso teased your puffy lips with his head, dragging his leaky cock over your clit tantalizingly as he leaned down to capture your already open mouth in his. as he deepened the kiss, driving his tongue inside you, his dick pressed further into you while just the tip has you moaning out his name.

“oh fuck, Cho, you – you’re so big.” you whined as your eyes rolled back, expanding for him as he ventures deeper inside of you. 

just those words have Choso bottoming out with a quick thrust, his balls slapping against your ass just as you feel his tip kiss your cervix. “ohhhh shit, angel.” his hips thrust again, giving you every inch. “feel s’ fucking good.”

your mind was already a puddle of mush as he drove into you, every pull and push of his cock driving you to madness. when Choso's hand flattens over your lower abdomen, pushing down slightly, you feel your walls tighten where he was pressing to accentuate every bit of his veiny length. 

Choso fingers moved to press against your clit, making small and absolutely maddening circles that made you whimper. his fingers applied more pressure, eliciting a loud moan of his name from your lips and causing your legs to clench around his hips. his pace picked up faster and faster, until he was gasping for air while he watched you blissed out below him, the sight almost sending him over the edge immediately. 

“yes – hah – please right there.” you’re drooling already, your fingers weaving through Choso’s hair as his eyes fall shut with pleasure. his bicep twitches next to your head, fist gripping the sheets as he uses every ounce of his strength to fuck you just right and rub your clit at the same time. you can feel the knot in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter, so close to snapping. as your cunt clenches and flutters around him, Choso’s struggles to plow through your tightening walls with his thrusts. 

“that’s it, angel, just like that.” Choso babbles through the pleasure coursing within him, and when you drive your hips to meet his every thrust he just about loses it. “fuck – wait wait – slow down I’m –“

before he can finish his sentence, your orgasm rips through you, electricity thrumming down your veins. your back arches so deeply into the mattress as your pussy contracts around his cock. you’re too high to even form the words to tell him you’re coming, but based on how Choso starts rutting into you, he can feel it.

“ohh – fuck – please. you’re so fuckin’ tight I’m gonna cum.” Choso whines, eyes scrunching shut as his hips become sporadic in his attempt to find his last bit of strength to work you through your orgasm. 

you’ve barely begun to come down before he’s bottoming out, his dick pulsing before shooting your pussy full with streaks of thick cum. you can hear the lewd squelches coming from your cunt as he lazily fucks into you through his orgasm, stuffing you to the brim with every ounce of his seed.  

“shit Choso.” you moan as his forehead settles on yours, sweat slick on both of them. you panted as you looked at him, his eyes fucked out as he settled slowly from his release. 

“wanna hear something really stupid?” Choso whispered softly, his breath warm against your skin as he leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“wh-what?” you stammered, your heart racing.

he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m beginning to think I’m addicted to you.” he confessed, a shy smile spreading across his face.

you felt a flutter in your chest, caught off guard. “addicted?” you echoed, a mix of surprise and amusement flooding through you.

“yeah.” he said, his voice low and raspy. “I can’t help it. you’re just… so fucking perfect.” his fingers brushed against yours, sending shivers down your spine.

“so, you’re not going to get sick of me then?” you teased, and Choso swore that as your laughter followed he could feel your pussy walls flutter around his softening cock. 

“don’t get cocky just yet, angel.” Choso hummed in amusement before dipping his fingers between your bodies. “that’s still yet to be seen.”

as you were giggling, your breath suddenly hitched when Choso fingers pinched your sensitive clit. your eyes sparked as you looked at him, a wicked smirk spread across his lips when he began to rub circles around the nub. with one more pinch, he leaned his face down to whisper in your ear.

“might just have to keep testing it.” 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko @csolya @deathlypink @sad-darksoul @elisedylandy @jinxiewritings @aldebrana @ravester @futuristiccurlyhair @san-it-is-i-guess @marie-is-in-the-dark @llovergirlll @iseeyouuu @makingtimemine @spicykimchii I hope I got everyone, and I hope the tagging worked for all of you! thank you so much for liking this enough to be tagged, it means the world to me! xoxo that fact that nineteen people have asked to be tagged for this makes me sob tears of thanks .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. if you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[angelltheninth]

The Bad Batch Men and Their Kinks

Pairing: Hunter, Crosshair, Tech, Echo, Wrecker x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, primal kink, knife king, hand/finger kink, dirty talk, cuddlefucking, mutual masturbation, thigh riding, edging, size difference, body worship

A/N: Time to get back to my second favorite Clone unit.

Primal kink - nothing gets him harder than chasing you down like you’re his newest target, pinning you harshly down against the dirt and pulling your pants down your legs just enough to expose your wet cunt. You can barely move, you’re trapped both by his hands and your pants restraining your thighs, you are at his mercy and whim. Not like you can deny how much you want this, even if you tried to hide your arousal it’s not possible with his sharp senses.

Knife kink - his hunting knife is more than a tool to fight. It’s also what he uses to cut your shirt open when he catches you. The flat of the blade is cold against your nipples and clit, the slow dragging of it against your skin all the way beneath your throat, up your chin and then against your cheek. He is careful not to cut you, not too deeply but it can happen if you lean against the knife when you try to chase his cock.

Hand/finger kink - saw you looking at his hands while he lines up his rifle to take a shot. Now it could be his imagination but he swore you bit your lip more than once while you watched his hands move across his gun to set it correctly or clean it. He knows every inch of his weapon just as he knows every inch of your body, he knows exactly how to move his fingers inside your cunt, to hook them upwards as he pulls them out and make you gush all over his hand.

Dirty talk - while he’s on a mission he has to keep quiet, as a sniper it’s part of his job so he has to mouth off sometime. Most often it’s with you, when he adds a third finger into your pussy and grind his palm against your clit, telling you how well you take him and how much he’s been craving to feel your warm inner walls around him. You look adorable when you blush from his words, red all the way to your ears.

Cuddlefucking - everyone knows that he’s not the most athletic among his brothers. But when you’re cuddling and you part your legs for him he can hardly be blamed for pushing his dick inside of you. Seeing as how he’s often the small spoon he can enjoy the softness of your boobs against his face while he grinds your hips against yours, your small moans making his dick twitch.

Mutual masturbation - he has multiple recordings of you masturbating saved on his holopad. You can’t always go on missions with him so late at night he will make a video call to you with his cock already hard, in fact it’s the first thing you see. The only downside is that his hand can’t compare to the slick, tight hole that is your cunt but seeing it dripping for him while you finger yourself is the next best thing.

Thigh riding - holds you against his front, his arm around your body, his lips sucking on your tits and his thigh pushing up against your naked cunt. You’re free to moan all you want but his own sounds are often muffled because his lips will be busy kissing or sucking any spot on you body he can. Will urge you to lift your hips so he can get a good look of the mess you made on his thigh.

Edging - given how long he’s been alone you’d think he’d hate it but on the contrary, he loves feeling like he has to wait to give you a huge load of cum. For him the feeling of your pussy tight and squeezing and drooling all over his hard cock and him not being able to come is almost like a challenge for him to overcome. But it does drive him crazy when you whisper how you just can wait to feel his cum flood your insides.

Size difference - not surprising that he likes this because he boasts about his size and strength a lot. It’s not just about the size and thickness of his cock which already feels like it’s gonna split you open but also about the fact that he can grab you and move you up and down on his cock like a cocktoy. He can manhandle you any time, or he can tower over you and keep your smaller body pinned and your legs spread so wide they’re shaking.

Body worship - always takes his sweet time with undressing you and kissing you before he gives you his fingers or his cock. First he needs to get you on his bed and get a good look at you, run his big hands around your body, caressing and squeezing all the right places until you melt into his touch. As much as he loves almost breaking the bed while having sex with you he will take good care not to break you.

[wellofdean]

I read your post about Supernatural being queer somehow from season 1 and I have two questions.

1. Don't you think it straight-appropriates the word "queer" to say it just means "not normal"? That argument seems disingenuous to me, and a lot of us want representation, and to see that word applied to explicit depiction of queer sexuality, and it's a cheat that they don't. Queer studies did start as the study of queer sexualities and the experience of queer people.

2. Are you saying that the makers of Supernatural intended for it to be "flesh on queer bones"? Do you think they intentionally sat down to tell a queer story?

Those are good questions my anonymous friend. Thank you for asking. Here are my thoughts:

To answer your first question: no, I don't think it appropriates anything. Here's why: firstly, if we're talking about sexuality and gender, it's queer 101 that no one owes anyone a justification of their queerness, and not everyone who is queer is interested in labeling it or making it legible to you, and they have no obligation to do so, and not doing so doesn't make them any less queer. Furthermore, some people who are queer are not interested in sex, so what about them?

All of that together is why, for me, the entire queer project is much more deeply about non-compliance with hegemony, and specifically with hegemony around gender roles, sexuality and to put it under a big umbrella, patriarchy, than it is about who you fuck. Those things extend into so many other aspects of life that I think you can easily talk about "queering" a very wide range of topics, and possibly? ANY TOPIC.

You are responding to this post, I think, and in it, I made a choice to talk about family and hunting, and our heroes roles and characterizations in that, and did not talk about gender shenanigans or sexuality, because my point was that even before we get to anything to do with it, Sam and Dean are immersed in a queered world in a fundamental, structural way. That said, I assure you that if you go back into season 1 of Supernatural, you will find LOADS that could be said about gender and sexuality, too. As well as other things, and a particularly important area, as @ironworked pointed out in the tags, is blue collar/white collar class issues.

As I said, the depth of queerness in Supernatural is actually dizzying just in terms of the story's BONES to say nothing of how they flesh it out. Queerness is about deviation from the norm. It's about rebellion and disobedience against hegemonic systems for the sake of personal authenticity and love.

Think about Cas for a minute. Cas's whole story is that he rejects his role in a hegemonic heaven. He rebels for love, and that is pretty explicit as early as season 4 when he tells Dean "We're making it up as we go". Fellas, that is THE QUEEREST SHIT EVER even if he didn't do it for Dean, and like... HE DID IT FOR DEAN. Cas did not have to tell Dean he loved him for me to know it, and for Cas to be a deeply queered character. When he DID say it, I wasn't the least bit surprised he was in love with Dean, because seriously, we been knew. I was only surprised I got to have the immense pleasure of hearing him say it and looking at Dean's face while he took it in. Jesus. I will NEVER RECOVER.

This is my perspective on representation in Supernatural: It's excellent, and I relate to, and feel seen by it as a queer person. Nobody needs to get fucked on the maps table for me to do the math that this is a queer story. It is very, very, very thoroughgoingly canonically queer in so many ways, and not all of them are to do with sex. I think some fans will only allow it to be called queer if dudes make out in it. I am not one of those fans.

As to your second question, I think there is a wealth of evidence in the filmic oeuvre of Eric Kripke to suggest that as an artist and a writer, he is concerned or maybe even preoccupied with masculinity issues and issues around family, and around the way patriarchy fucks men up. So, yes. I think he knew what he was doing and he knew that queerness was part of the mix. For fucks sake, it's a family of men who hunt monsters. That is very fucking on the nose. Do I think he kicked off Supernatural in 2005 planning a 15 year operatic queer romance between Cas and Dean? No. I don't think anyone planned for it to go as long as it did, and it's a matter of record that some things were influenced by fan response, actors' chemistry, different writers and showrunners' preferences and etc. What I will say is that when they had a choice to "straighten shit out" or lean into the queerness, they fucking leaned in, nearly EVERY TIME. Like, it's pretty amazing how consistently they lean the fuck in.

I'll admit -- I wasn't watching it with those eyes the first time, and I didn't give it much real estate in my mind when I watched it as it aired from 2006 to the end, but the last three episodes reshaped it for me and made me angry, and also made me need to watch it all again, this time with an explicitly queer lens, and BOY HOWDY let me tell you this: the Supernatch rewatch journey is a wild and wonderful trip to Queertown. It is legit more difficult to argue that Dean is straight than it is to argue that he is queer. There is a full on CORNUCOPIA of story evidence to support that read and relatively little that convincingly counters it on the straight side, and that starts right at the beginning, when they bend pretty baby Dean over a police car in episode one, and he smirks insouciantly in his lip gloss. Do I think everyone involved knew how that looked? Sexy, submissive and a bit gay?

YES I DO.

[petit-etoile]

Congrats on 200 followers! :D For drabble ideas, how about one where Tav is becoming overwhelmed from being the leader of their group and they end up having a bit of a breakdown in camp, so Astarion whisks them away and dotes on them for the evening to help soothe some of their worries.

i  am  tired  of  being  brave

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount:  1,036 content warnings: none other tags: canon compliant, introspection, character study, idiots in love, established relationship, gender neutral tav, human!tav archiveofourown: here.

tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, be added to the taglist here

summary: All you want is to get away from everything. Astarion indulges you.

‘Enough!’ you shout.

Lae’zel and Shadowheart have the decency to look properly chagrined when they peer over at you, frozen as if turned to stone. Shadowheart’s knife dips underneath Lae’zel’s chin, but the pretense of applied pressure goes away. You have no idea what hour it is or how long they’ve been going at it but the little patience you have snaps like a fine thread.

‘We have only gotten this far because we trust each other,’ you snap at them, pulling your nightshirt tighter around your shoulders. ‘But if you want to ruin that, leave me out of it!’

In what is likely the silliest mistake to make, you turn around and march to your bedroll to pick up your hunting knife and then march beyond the outskirts of camp  —  beyond Halsin and Jaheira and Gale and Wyll and Karlach, and Withers who seems to be musing over the situation with faint interest.

If Shadowheart and Lae’zel want to fight to the death, let them! You’ve done all that you can to get the group this far. You’re tired, you’ve been woken up two nights in a row, and you’ve had it with the drama.

You plunge yourself through the nearest bush you can find and sit next to running water, your arms pulled across your chest to keep the breeze from chilling you to the bone. You’re miserable beneath the moonlight. You can’t remember the last time you’ve slept more than four hours.

You almost doze off in the underbrush beneath a tree, but then there’s a hand sliding over your mouth and a body behind yours, somehow wedged behind you once your eyes closed. You gasp and try to reach for your knife, but Astarion tuts and continues sliding between you and the tree. It would be annoying if you weren’t relieved it was him. You relax back against him despite the feeling that your heart is going to leap out of your throat.

‘You shouldn’t fall asleep in the woods,’ Astarion warns you. ‘There are terrible beasts that have made this place their hunting ground.’

You shiver. ‘I didn’t mean to fall asleep,’ you say. ‘I just needed to get away.’

He hums. ‘Did something happen back at the camp?’

It doesn’t do any good to keep secrets, and your other companions had already witnessed it. You tell Astarion about Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s never ending fight. It doesn’t make sense to keep attacking one another, especially since the Artefact is the only reason the worms haven’t burrowed deeper into your skulls. It wears you down every day to keep making decisions for everyone when there are people with better experience. Everyone looks to you no matter how much you wish they’d look elsewhere. You never wanted this fellowship to hang on your every word. You just wanted allies.

‘It’s hardly fair,’ Astarion agrees. ‘To have the weight of this…Absolute sitting on your shoulders. I can’t imagine what it must be like to wrangle us all into cohabitation.’

‘Some discomforts are easier to resolve than others,’ you say. ‘It was easy making everyone throw their stakes away.’

‘I’m fairly certain Wyll kept his,’ Astarion snorts.

‘Yes, but he doesn’t wake us all up holding it at your neck,’ you say, elbowing him. ‘They don’t have to become friends or lovers or anything of the sort. They just have to get along until we arrive at Baldur’s Gate.’

Baldur’s Gate still seems so very far away. Acknowledging this drags you down more than you wish it to. You’re tired of walking and fighting and lying your way out of every other conflict. You miss your family and your life before the worm. The only good that’s come of it is Astarion. He lets you lounge on him when you please in exchange for some blood, and…

It’s more than that.

Astarion lets you do whatever the hell you please as long as it doesn’t annoy him. You’re free to nap in his tent or sit at his side while he reads, and he’s even allowed you to style his delicate curls with pomade. He lets you kiss him if you ask, holds your hand. If you asked him to kill someone for you, you’re certain he would without question.

Reluctantly, you sit forward. ‘I should probably head back,’ you admit. ‘I should make sure everyone is still alive.’

‘To the hells with it,’ Astarion disagrees. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back. ‘You close your eyes and sleep. Let them come looking for us if it troubles them that much.’

‘And if Shadowheart kills Lae’zel?’

‘I’m almost certain Lae’zel would win,’ he says. ‘But, I have no doubt they’ll behave. You, on the other hand, are being naughty.’

You laugh but you do as you're told. You worm further in the roots and lean back against him. It’s chilly, but having someone else there does wonders for how willing you are to fall asleep. It’s almost nice how secluded you are away from the drama and stress. You almost wish you were a vampire so that you could sneak out and use hunting as an excuse.

The respect for all you do is nice. Sure, Halsin and Jaheira have both commended you for how hard you work for your age, but it isn’t the same. You still stand in the middle of camp trying to handle things on your own. The planning, the decisions. They somehow fall on your shoulders. A little more input would be nice, or a sign from a god that you’re doing the right thing. You try not to think about it as you feel sleep edge toward your consciousness. Astarion hums softly in your ear, and though it’s uneven, you can’t help but think it’s so off-tune that it’s lovely.

You yawn so hard your jaw pops, and Astarion hushes you, kissing idly behind your ear. It lulls you into an ease you haven’t experienced for a while. You melt into the touch. If you could purr, you would.

‘This,’ Astarion says, ‘is what you deserve. To relax here in my arms. Sleep now, and we’ll deal with what shall come in the morning.’

[choerypetal]

Love at first Sight / Steve Harrington x Winchester!Sister

Summary: The reader, as the younger sister of the Winchesters, moves to Hawkins to investigate a hunt after losing contact with their father, John. Unbeknownst to them, Hawkins harbors dark secrets, particularly when a certain boy rescues them from the monsters.

ps: This is my longest story to date, and I had so much fun writing it. I hope you enjoy it just as much! Since English isn't my first language, I apologize for any minor grammar errors.

word count; 6ks.

tag list ; @figurantedefilme

“Father, hasn’t come back.” 

Dean’s words reiterate in your mind as you sat in the passenger seat. Sam, your twin, understood the potential consequences of bringing you along. You vividly recalled his argument about the test you had the next morning, how he had done everything possible to support your decision not to get involved. The thought of dragging their little sister, on the brink of graduating high school, into family matters made him troubled. "And where exactly is the location?" he asked, struggling to conceal his irritation while casting worried glances in your direction. 

Dean understood he had no alternative. If given the opportunity, there was no doubt he would have ventured alone. However, giving John's unequivocal instructions left no room for debate on the matter. When family, particularly your father, was concerned, it was imperative for everyone to participate, regardless of their preferences. Dean's grasp on the steering wheel tightened as he disclosed the destination you were bound for.

 “Hawkins.” 

Hawkins was nothing like Kansas. After an eight-hour drive with multiple stops, your brothers took turns at the wheel. For once, you all agreed that your father should be immensely grateful when you finally rescued him, especially given the uncertainty about where to start. It wasn't until you checked into a motel near Hawkins that the research on the haunting began in earnest.

Dean had gone to buy some food while Sam and you continued your search. The sun had set, giving way to the shimmering stars of the night. One of the things you couldn't help but admire about Hawkins was the luminous presence of its own scenery. You were stargazing from your motel window when you heard the door creak open and Sam's voice, poised to relay any information about your father's whereabouts. But it was Dean who spoke first, interrupting Sam's rambling about anything he could find useful. "So, you're telling me there are no official records, just a stupid student article about the incident that happened, what, a year ago? When it all started with a boy going missing?"

"Maybe we should ask for the chief," you suggested, recalling the man around your father's age whom your brothers had seen at the gas station an hour earlier. One who could definitely be a source of information. However, your brothers dismissed the notion, unwilling to involve others. "No, no, no," Dean said, pulling food from the plastic bag and placing it on the table. Sam, still engrossed in his laptop, grabbed the first item his hand found. "The one thing we definitely can't do is involve the cops, especially the sheriff."

And he was right, much as you hated to admit it. Dealing with the cops had never been your brother's strongest suits. Recalling numerous arrests, all tied to their hunting activities, with your father or Bobby often being the one to bail them out.

"I think I found something," Sam said, capturing your attention. Dean snatching the laptop from him, causing Sam to roll his eyes and start munching on his sandwich. "Demogorgon, really?" Dean said, almost offended by the article. What struck him, though, was how off the situation felt with the missing boy and the lab in Hawkins.

"I don't know, man. Don't look at me like that. Just read further," Sam insisted as Dean tried to process the information. Despite their extensive hunting experience, from Wendigo's to the King of Hell, Dean was on the verge of dismissing the student article entirely. This seemed like a stretch even for them.

"And you're telling me Dad went missing because of a half-man, half-creature that feeds on human powers?" Dean asked incredulously. Sam chuckled at his brother's disbelief and nodded. "That's what the article says," he confirmed, though Dean remained unconvinced. He needed more evidence, which meant by morning they will have to start questioning anyone around Hawkins. "Tomorrow, first thing. If the rumors are true, and as much as I hate to admit. Dad might be the creature's next snack anytime soon."

The next morning in Hawkins, you and your brothers headed to the nearest diner. Unlike other places you'd visited, Hawkins had a surprising calmness to it. You were particularly excited to visit the DVD store that had caught your eye, likely the only other place of interest besides the arcade. You always made a point to bring something back from each mission—a habit your brothers found odd yet endearing.

"Please," you begged Dean as the three of you walked into the diner. He rolled his eyes as you all sat down and ordered the usual breakfast: two coffees and an orange juice for you. "What do you even need at a DVD store?" he asked. "Maybe it could also be a good excuse for you and Sam to investigate," you replied with a hint of amusement. Your brothers exchanged a glance and thanked the waitress as she brought the food. "She isn't wrong, you know," Sam agreed, seeing the potential in the idea. "And if it makes Y/N feel at home..." 

"Fine," Dean finally conceded with a sigh. "But after that, we're heading to the trailer park." He insisted, knowing it was one of the areas where the creature had reportedly lingered and the last place your father was apparently seen.

"Robin, I told you, the last time I flirted with a woman, I couldn't even avoid making her cringe," Steve sighed as he brought the DVD tray to restock returns. Behind the counter, Robin mentally tallied her best friend's countless failures, a smile playing on her lips. “I call dibs on the next client.” As she noticed three silhouettes entering the store, her attention shifted entirely to them. "Welcome!" she greeted them, her tone ambiguous enough to make it unclear whether she enjoyed her job or not. "May I help you?"

Your brother wore an expression of determination. Sam, ever the polite one, smiled first and quickly refocused on their primary mission: finding your father. "We just need a few pieces of information," he said, presenting their fake FBI cards. You leaned forward, peeking between your brothers. Immediately catching Steve's attention. Outside, Max and Billy, being new in town, added to the unusual sight of newcomers, especially at this time of year. Steve couldn't help but admire this in awe. "I'll go look for a souvenir. Don't wait for me," you said, glancing at them one last time before heading off. 

"Alright, Chipmunk, just don't take long," Dean replied, prompting you to roll your eyes. Steve noted the nickname, remembering it all too well. As you made your way toward the shelves of tapes, Steve remained with your brothers, soon summoned by Robin.

"It's about their father," Robin had filled Steve in on the situation. Wherever their father was, it didn't sound promising, especially with everything happening—the Demogorgon, Vecna—anything could be connected. Observing Dean's expression shift from annoyance to complete shock, as Sam realized that dismissing the student article might have been their first mistake.

"So... you're saying you fought one of them?" Sam directed his question to Steve. Usually, Steve couldn't resist a bit of ego-boosting, but the serious expression on Dean's face and his repeated glances in your direction, ensuring you wouldn't make a mess, made Steve reconsider. Perhaps setting aside the flirting was the wisest choice. Thus, he simply nodded. "Yes, thanks to Dustin, who obtained the information initially. Even the police are clueless about what's truly occurring."

The Winchester brothers exchanged glances. "Dustin?" they asked simultaneously. Steve nodded in confirmation. "Yes, and not just Dustin. We also have El, who possesses superpowers. She's been instrumental, but given your father's disappearance, someone would have found his body by now or—" Steve hesitated, unwilling to entertain darker possibilities, especially after their experience in the Upside Down. He shared a concerned look with Robin, who shrugged, considering various scenarios. "Wait—let me just process all of this," Dean interjected, taking a step back. Robin offered him a seat at the counter, which he gratefully accepted as he attempted to piece everything together.

"So, let me get this straight: first, this kid Will goes missing, then you guys run into some Demo-whatever-the-hell-it's-called, and now there's this girl with random powers who was held captive in a lab by some Vecna creep?" Dean recalled how vague his father had been on the phone the previous night, mentioning he'd be at some sort of lab. The thought worried him, prompting Sam to give his brother a concerned look. "Are you okay?" Sam inquired. Dean hummed a yes and locked eyes with Steve, who swallowed nervously. Despite only meeting briefly that day, something about your older brother made Steve fidgety. Dean paused momentarily, then retrieved an article from his back pocket and placed it on the counter. Steve immediately recognized Nancy's handwriting.

"Not to sound arrogant, but that's your source?" Steve gestured towards the paper, blinking twice. While Nancy's article was informative, she had to simplify and spice it up to attract readers for her publication, not to mention keep the whole Upside Down ordeal a secret. Steve distinctly recalled her mentioning that. However, he hadn't anticipated it would attract a group of hunters brandishing fake FBI badges. Despite his reservations, he refrained from commenting on it. "Also," he added, indicating their badges, "this whole fake badge charade doesn't fool us. We've already dealt with the Russians trying that stunt," he remarked smugly. Just as you arrived with a stack of DVDs, you couldn't help but laugh. "See? I told you those FBI badges were outdated."

Sam's lips curved into a playful smile as he observed your reaction. Despite disliking that you were traveling with them and missing out on a normal life outside of hunting, it was gratifying to see you interacting with people your age. Your formal demeanor while conversing with Steve, who nodded in response to your comment, was refreshing, as were the small interactions you shared with Robin. "Cash?" Steve inquired next, prompting an eager nod from you as Dean stepped in to pay. "But I have enough!" you protested, pouting adorably—a sight that Steve found strangely endearing. He snapped back to reality as your brother impatiently waited for him to retrieve the cash. "Want-Want the receipt?" Steve asked stuttering slightly, to which your brother shook his head. As the three of you prepared to leave the store, thanking the two employees one last time, Dean paused, causing Sam and you to exchange a curious glance. Dean clearly had something in mind.

"Can we arrange a meeting spot?" he inquired. Steve and Robin shared a glance, aware that the next day they would be assisting Dustin in searching for his friend Eddie. It appeared to be an ideal opportunity, particularly since your brothers intended to explore Hawkins' forest as well. "Skull Rock?" the younger boy proposed. Neither your brothers nor you were aware that you would have more company than anticipated. Dean hesitated, but upon seeing your radiant expression as you held the stack of DVDs you had purchased, you spoke up on their behalf before he could respond. "We'll be there!"

Steve's prediction proved accurate. The following morning arrived, and he remained uncertain whether you would indeed appear, let alone bring your brothers along. The previous night, after interviewing numerous locals, you had practically pleaded with them to join, convinced it was an excellent idea. Considering your father's tendencies, initiating the search in the forest seemed logical. "If this is because of that Steve boy again," Dean interjected with disdain evident in his tone, prompting you to roll your eyes. "It has nothing to do with him! Besides, he's taken down one of these creatures before. I'd sooner trust a DVD seller than a random sheriff at this point." You made a valid argument, and upon witnessing the resolve in your expression, Sam concurred, "She's got a point." With a sigh, Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel before starting the engine without another word and directing the car toward Skull Rock.

"So who are we waiting for exactly?" Dustin inquired impatiently, observing Steve's restless pacing. "And what's with the sudden nerves?" Robin teased with a smirk. "It's Y/N." "Y/N?" Steve spoke your name, almost offended. "Oh, so you know her name?" Robin enjoyed Steve's irritation and couldn't resist teasing him further. "She mentioned it before they departed, in case you were paying attention, lover boy."

"They?" Dustin regarded the two adults before him, clearly perplexed by the situation and the strangers they had involved. "Her father vanished, and her brothers, who are apparently hunters, were dispatched here. We're just hoping we don't stumble upon their father's lifeless body along the way," Steve explained. He hadn't intended to sound so severe, but his nerves had taken over, leading him to adopt a touch of sarcasm. His confidence faltered as he heard your brother's voice drawing nearer. "Y/N, this is nonsense. We should've contacted Castiel."

"Yes, but remember, Castiel's at the hospital right now. He needs the rest," you reminded them, recalling the events of the last hunt. "Come on, grumpy old man," you added, grabbing Dean's arm, eliciting a whine from him, while Sam chuckled, enjoying the moment. As your eyes met Robin’s, you waved at her. "Robin!"

Robin was the first to notice your arrival and approached you with a hug. You were introduced to Dustin, whom they described as the clever one, and who had some knowledge about the creatures and your father's potential whereabouts. Lucky for him, he had mentioned about seeing a man whose description bore a striking resemblance to your father's, which he promptly relayed to Dean. "So, that's how you stumbled upon this entire Russian trap?" you inquired. They all nodded in agreement, but their conversation was interrupted as Eddie emerged from his hiding spot, causing you to startle slightly.

"Dustin, you rascal," Eddie's voice reverberated in your thoughts. Amidst the chaos of your missing father and the onslaught of curses from Max and Eddie, whom you had only just met, Eddie extended his hand to shake yours, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as he flashed a smile. "Haven't seen you around before, sweets," he remarked, managing to find humor in the situation despite its gravity, prompting a slight cringe from Steve, who had been the first to encounter you. Yet, you couldn't deny that Eddie exuded a certain charm of his own. "We've been sent on a mission. My father disappeared around here a few days ago, and my brothers, who are hunters, insisted I come," you explained, introducing Dean and Sam to everyone present, including Lucas, Max, and Nancy, all of whom reciprocated with their own introductions.

"And I assume you're familiar with me," the metalhead sighed at his presence, wishing for a more auspicious introduction. You shook your head, seeking confirmation from Robin and then Steve. "Eddie," Steve answered, somewhat irritated. "The 'supposed boy' who was involved in the cheerleader's death?" your brother recited from a news article. But quickly flinched and groaned in discomfort as you took the crumpled article and hit it against his chest. "Good Lord, Y/N, what was that for?" he protested as you gave him a knowing glance. 

"Do you get a serial killer vibe from him?" you questioned, coming to Eddie's defense. “It’s alright, Y/N, there’s no need…” Observing the unfolding scene, Steve couldn't help but wish he were in Eddie's position, but circumstances had changed since your meeting with him the day before. Determined to contribute, he spoke up. "Shouldn't we be, you know, taking action instead of just standing around? Especially for their father, Dustin, and everything?" 

Dustin briefly glanced at Steve, recognizing that familiar look of jealousy. First, it was with Nancy, and now it seemed directed toward a complete stranger. Amused, Dustin couldn't resist teasing him and feigned ignorance, only serving to make Steve's jealousy even more evident. Meanwhile, you were completely absorbed in Eddie's presence, oblivious to Steve's inner turmoil. Dean, always the vigilant brother, interjected, "Come on, lover boy, no time to waste," playfully tousling your hair as he noticed Steve's uneasy glance. You muttered a few choice words before smoothing down your hair. It was endearing to witness the two men vying for your attention, but it also put Dean, the protective brother, on edge. "Sammy?" he called out, turning to Sam, who was already assisting Dustin in plotting the next course of action. "Ready?"

You, on the other hand, gave a final glance to Eddie, who appeared ready. "Lead the way, sweetheart," you encouraged. The walk proved lengthier than anticipated, and as the sun began to set, the sky revealed the first twinkling stars, a sight you never failed to appreciate. Steve made a point to remain by your side throughout. "Look!" you exclaimed, prompting Steve to recall the way your smile lit up your face. Your observation caused everyone, including your brothers, to pause in their tracks. "The stars seem larger tonight," you remarked in awe. "Are you a fan of astrology?" Eddie inquired, leaning closer to you, and you turned to regard him. "And you?" you countered. He shrugged. "Not particularly, but now that you mention it, Hawkins nights do hold a certain allure, don't they, Steve?"

"Indeed," Steve responded, the faint edge of irritation apparent in his tone. Eddie noticed, recognizing the signs of infatuation, and chose not to press the matter further. "Perhaps," he suggested, "rather than discussing stars, we should direct our attention to..."

An interruption broke the silence—a familiar screech that caused Dustin to halt abruptly, prompting everyone to freeze in place. He listened intently, ensuring it wasn't merely his imagination. "Do you all hear that?" he whispered, the sound growing louder. Your brothers remained nearby, while Steve stood steadfastly by your side. You could have sworn you felt his fingers graze yours, prompting you, out of habit, to reach for his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. In that moment, he was your knight in shining armor.

Dean swiftly seized the flashlight, his actions quickened by a piercing scream resonating through the air. As you turned to confront the creature lurking in the shadows, a chill of fear gripped you, compounded by the sight of blood dripping from its jaw. Paralyzed, you sensed its menacing presence drawing nearer with each passing second. In the blink of an eye, it lunged towards you. "Y/N!" Steve's urgent voice reverberated in your mind as Dean barked orders at Sam to take the first shot. Yet, the gunfire proved futile against the relentless creature. "Steve!" Robin's frantic shout pierced through the chaos as she tossed him the bat. Everything unfolded too swiftly to comprehend.

Overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the creature, you found your knees giving way, sending you tumbling to the ground. In a swift response, Eddie rushed to your side, offering reassurance in a soothing tone. "It's alright, it's gone," he repeated, his words a steady anchor amidst the chaos. With trembling hands, you instinctively shielded your face, attempting to suppress the rising tide of screams threatening to escape.

Unbeknownst to the group, your father had been silently observing from the shadows all along. With keen interest, he monitored the actions of his two sons and daughter, though the sight of you among them caught him off guard. This situation served as a test, one that Dean might soon recall—it was designed to assess whether the two boys were prepared to tackle cases beyond their usual scope. However, your involvement was an unexpected twist, not part of the original plan. Little did John know, another version of himself had been lurking much closer than anticipated.

Sam was the first to discern John's presence. His disbelief was palpable, tinged with a hint of revulsion at the sight of his father seemingly unscathed, contrary to the myriad theories the three Winchesters had fervently debated in recent days. "Dad? Dad?" Dean's puzzled expression mirrored Sam's confusion, just as Steve swiftly dispatched the Demogorgon with a well-timed blow. 

"Boys," John greeted with a smile that felt forced. Max, sensing an underlying unease, found herself growing suspicious. Though not intimately acquainted with the Winchesters' father, her own encounters with flayed individuals had honed her instincts. "Guys," she interjected, attempting to capture Steve's attention, "I have my doubts about him." Steve, casting a brief glance at Hargrove, immediately redirected his focus upon hearing your faint cries, ensuring your well-being as he knelt beside Eddie. Meanwhile, your brothers stood frozen in astonishment at the sight of their impostor father.

"Dean?" Max's voice reverberated in your brother's mind, prompting him to turn towards her. "Yes?" he replied, noting the concern etched on her features. An instinctual feeling swept over him, suggesting that the figure before them wasn't their father. With Sam in close proximity, Dean couldn't resist beckoning him over, yet there was no response. "I don't believe it's your father," Max murmured softly, her words carrying a weight of conviction. "And what leads you to that conclusion?" Dean inquired, though inwardly he harbored similar suspicions. Despite clinging to a glimmer of hope, he remained open to Max's insight. "Do you notice any discrepancies?" Bingo. Dean scrutinized the man masquerading as their father, discerning subtle nuances in his smile, his gaze, and the feigned affection. It became increasingly apparent that whatever entity had taken control was failing miserably at replicating their father's mannerisms.

"I'm relieved to find you all here. I was growing concerned," the voice emanated, its tone unsettling. Max's intuition proved correct. Sensing trouble, Sam moved closer while Dean hastened towards him, their actions synchronized with the abrupt sound of another gunshot. The bullet found its mark, striking the impostor masquerading as John. A sickly green fluid oozed from his mouth, portending imminent danger. His once-human eyes now glowed an eerie white. In a stroke of luck, John had managed to discharge a bullet into his counterfeit form. Sam's eyes widened in horror as he cried out for his father.

Dean's grip tightened on his firearm, grappling with the uncertainty of the situation, questioning the authenticity of the figure before him. John's eyes met yours, a silent challenge conveyed through his gaze. Despite the tension, you managed to steady your breathing, feeling the weight of the moment. With Steve's presence lending you reassurance, you stood your ground, determined to maintain composure amidst the uncertainty.

"Bringing Y/N along, really?" Your father's tone dripped with a mix of disgust and shame, causing Sam to sense the weight of the situation. Understanding the pressure you were under, he rose to stand by your side. Meanwhile, Eddie and Steve, recognizing the need for composure, subtly suggested maintaining distance, hinting at the gravity of family matters. Despite their advice, you clung to their shirts, silently pleading for their support. "Please," your eyes implored. Thus, you, Sam, Eddie, Steve, Max, Lucas, Dustin, Robin, and Nancy maintained a respectful distance, observing the unfolding events.

Dean harbored discontent towards his father's stance on involving you in the discussion. While it had been acknowledged that reaching a certain age would inevitably draw you into the hunting lifestyle, akin to Sam's trajectory, Dean remained disheartened by the prospect. He often cited Sam's own journey, pointing out how it led him to abandon Stanford and commit to hunting full-time. Unlike Dean, Sam advocated for a conventional life for you, one filled with relationships and camaraderie. The time spent in Hawkins only solidified this perspective for you. "She's prepared," Dean asserted, though John's skepticism was evident.

"Y/N, return to the car," your father's voice rang out, commanding attention as all eyes turned towards where you knelt, shaking your head in defiance. "I said, return to the vehicle," he reiterated, employing the same authoritative tone he used on Sam during the vampire hunt. Just as you were about to interject, Sam's figure materialized beside you. Sensing the escalating tension, Steve cautiously ushered Eddie away, allowing space for Sam to intervene.

 He knelt beside you, meeting your gaze with familiarity, recognizing the turmoil reflected in your eyes—a familiar sight during conflicts between your father and himself. Understanding the need to address the situation decisively, not only for his own sake but for yours as well, he inquired, "Do you want me to speak to him, instead?"

A silent sob and a nod conveyed everything. "No, Dad," Sam's voice, grave and resonant, shattered the stillness. He reserved that tone for moments of utmost gravity. Dean attempted to interject, "Sam!" but his words fell on deaf ears; Sam had already approached their father. "She's not prepared," Sam asserted, his gaze penetrating the darkness of the night. Towering slightly over their father, he leaned in, exuding an air of palpable tension. "You are the reason she departed in the first place. In any case."

"What did you just say?" John's voice carried the weight of authority, now laced with a menacing undertone aimed at both his son and daughter for their insubordination. "You heard me," Sam retorted unwaveringly, his gaze hovering dangerously close to his father's collar, poised for confrontation. Yet, he refrained from physical action, mindful of the precarious situation in Hawkins. The tension between the two men simmered, with Dean positioned between them, striving to defuse the escalating conflict. "Yes, you left when your brother and I needed you. You chose her over us! Sam! You—"

"And let's not forget, Dad, you're the one who said, 'Don't come back.' You slammed that door shut on her, not me! You were just angry because you couldn't control her anymore!" Dean interjected, seizing his brother's collar to preempt any potential altercation. John, their father, fixed his gaze on you. Sam's accusation hit home. Despite your love for him, the scars from his domineering nature and the dangers of the hunt still haunted you. Was it all to prove a point about strength? Even now, the memories of that day haunted your dreams. 

"We're all exhausted," Dean interjected, attempting to diffuse the tension. "Now that we've found you, maybe we can head back to the motel." Sam's expression betrayed his reluctance, but it seemed like the most prudent course of action. With their father located, the Winchesters knew their business in Hawkins was concluded. However, your intentions were different. You had someone else in mind: Steve.

Steve observed the scene with mounting fury. The family conflict played out before him, and seeing you curled up, trying to hide your distress, fueled his anger. He was furious at your father for forcing you into a life you hadn't chosen, for making you feel trapped by the family legacy. Watching your brother stand up for you only deepened his ire. Later that night, while your brothers tried to calm your father. From how you would see him gently caressed your cheek, wiping away any lingering tears, and let you collapse into his arms. Murmuring soothing words such as, "Hey, it’s going to be alright. I’m here." And he meant it. He stayed with you all night, knowing that by tomorrow, you might be gone. Or so he thought.

The following night, you faintly recalled your brothers arguing, their voices rising until they stepped outside to avoid waking you. The hunt had left you drained, but your father's harsh words lingered in your mind. With your eyes closed, feigning sleep, you heard the front door of the motel room creak open. Your father entered and knelt beside you, gently brushing the hair from your face. The look on his face, one you couldn't forget, made you wonder if Sam had managed to get through to him. "I am so sorry..." he murmured softly.

His voice was hoarse from crying. Whatever they had discussed was more significant than you had imagined, affecting not just you but Sam as well. As his twin, you had always stood by his side, through thick and thin. Your father, recognizing this bond, finally broke the silence, "If you want to go to college," he said, his voice laden with emotion, "then you can. I love you."

He hadn't wanted to wake you, but his genuine words stirred you. You couldn't help but lean in and wrap your arm around his waist just as he was about to leave. Initially thinking you were asleep, his eyes widened in surprise, then softened as he smiled and returned your embrace. When your brothers returned with food, Sam smiled but refrained from teasing, not wanting to embarrass you. "Dinner?" he asked simply, the warmth of the moment lingering in the air.

Your father glanced at you as you wiped away the last of your dried tears. Nodding, you joined the three men at the dinner table. As you ate, your thoughts drifted to Steve and the longing to see him one last time. "I know we're leaving tomorrow, but..." you began, cheeks flushing. Dean, catching on immediately, spoke through a mouthful of sandwich, "The lover boy?" He raised an eyebrow. Both Sam and your father chuckled, with your father raising an eyebrow in mock confusion. "Who?" he asked, though he clearly knew. "Steve," you murmured, so softly that your family made you repeat it. "Who?" they echoed, smirking. "Steve! Alright, jeez. Anyway, I have to return my DVDs anyway."

Dean rolled his eyes, even though he was notoriously inept when it came to romance. Seeing you with someone, especially someone like Steve, was undeniably endearing. He knew Steve was a good guy—after all, he had helped a complete stranger in the woods, which had led to more than just uncovering their father's disappearance. Now they knew their dad had been flayed. While Dean hated the idea of leaving so soon, he understood that helping Hawkins was necessary. And if it meant you could spend a little more time with Steve, he didn’t mind at all. "You know," he said in a suggestive tone, "I talked with this Dustin kid..."

You met your brother's gaze, eyebrows furrowed, sensing he was onto something significant. "Spill," Sam demanded.

"Well, I also talked to Dad," Dean began. "We discovered something more sinister lurking beneath Hawkins. They need all the help they can get, so I offered our assistance. We’ll be staying a few days to start our search." Your eyes widened in shock and joy as you processed your brother's words. This meant you might be staying for weeks, even months, given the seriousness of the Upside Down situation. And it also meant more time with Steve. “So, we’re staying?” you asked, excitement evident in your voice. Dean nodded with a smile, ruffling your hair. "Don't get too excited, Chipmunk. But yes, and Dad is joining in."

You couldn't be more grateful, and as the three of you settled into bed that night, only one thought occupied your mind: Steve.

The next morning, your brothers and father decided to eat at the nearest café in Hawkins. Over breakfast, you managed to gather more information: one piece related to Max's curse and another concerning Eddie's possible connection to Chrissy's murder, a name you learned only afterward. “And I thought vampires were bad,” you quipped, eliciting chuckles from your brothers. Given your extensive hunting records and those of your brothers and father, it was evident that this situation in Hawkins was unlike anything you had faced before.

After breakfast, while your family was investigating with Dustin's help, you decided to visit the store. Steve was nowhere to be found, so you gently placed the DVDs on the counter and waited. As time passed, your patience waned. With a sigh, you left the DVDs and some cash on the table, resigning yourself to the thought that Steve might already be thinking of someone else, perhaps even kissing another girl. Just as you were about to leave, a familiar voice called out, “Y/N! So sorry, it was my break shift. I didn’t–”

Your face brightened at his presence, a wave of relief washing over you for not considering his break earlier. You watched him clumsily put on his vest and walk toward you for a hug. “You okay?” he asked, releasing you and focusing entirely on you, his eyes filled with affection. You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yes, we finally managed to talk it out with my father,” you murmured, still processing the emotional weight of the conversation.

Steve's concern was palpable, but relief washed over his face as you spoke. “Also,” he added, a smile spreading across his lips, “I heard you’ll be staying here for a while, huh?” His teasing tone made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t help but smile, nodding your head and murmuring a soft, “Mhm.”

"Yep, my brothers insisted on helping as much as they can," you said, appreciating their unwavering support, even in the gravest situations. It was one of the many reasons you wanted to join their hunts; balancing college and hunting didn't seem so daunting after all. "This means seeing your face all day," you added with a teasing pout, trying to feign offense. Steve's chuckle and eye roll, however, told you he saw right through your playful act.

"Ouch, I am hurt," he said sarcastically, stepping closer. It was now or never, he thought. If he waited another day, another week, who knew when he'd get another chance to express his feelings. "You know," his voice became slightly hoarse as his eyes roamed over your face and body. His fingers gently brushed your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. Up close, you realized how striking Steve's eyes were—something you'd have to get used to. "I don't have anything planned for tonight," he purred, making you tilt your head in feigned innocence. You knew Steve had something in mind, even if he wasn't saying it outright.

"I was thinking of inviting you over for a movie night at my place. I'll cover the pizza," he offered, his words causing your cheeks to warm. While you felt the urge to inform your brothers, you decided to wait until later, until you were at Steve's house. "Alright, lover boy," you said, using the nickname your brother had coined for him. Steve grunted and rolled his eyes, dismissing the teasing. "So, tonight at 8, Chipmunk?" he added with a smirk, to which you responded with a playful glare.

"Eight o'clock it is," you agreed. Just as you felt the warmth of Steve's proximity, the door swung open. In walked Dustin, Max, Eddie, and your brothers. Dean, unable to resist, was the first to comment. "Alright, lovebirds, we've got some research to do. If you want my sister by eight, we need to get started immediately."

"Dean!" you protested, turning to face your brother with a glare. He smirked and followed Dustin to the DVD computer, while Steve protested for more carefulness. As everyone crowded around the screen, Sam approached you, leaving the two of you momentarily alone. "You know," he said with a genuine smile, "if you want to go to college—" You shook your head. Despite your father’s agreement, you couldn’t leave your family behind; you loved them too much. "No, I really think I'm ready," you replied. Sam raised an eyebrow, taken aback but relieved, and wrapped one arm around you in a quick hug.

"Then let’s kill this thing," Sam said, and you nodded, following him. Who would have thought that a place you initially hoped would hold clues about your father's whereabouts would also be where you'd find friends and someone to count on—Steve Harrington. "You okay?" Steve murmured as you joined him, noticing your brief discussion with Sam. "Yes, I am," you replied with a smile, feeling his hand gently squeeze yours. "I just can’t wait for tonight as well," you confessed, and you could have sworn you saw Steve's cheeks warm at your comment, which you found adorably endearing. He leaned in to press a kiss on your cheek, returning the favor.

"I am too," he said.

[aphrmoosun]

{Noa and the Beast}

Nomae: One shot

• Sipnosis.

Noa is the new leader of the clan, his responsibility was to his own. But an Echo enters their lives and they decide to kill her due to the ancient writings that defined her as dangerous. But when Noa has her in front of him, his world changes completely...

• Pair.

Noa and Mae

• Movie.

Kingdom of the planet of the apes {Half AU}

• Tags.

Nomae, interspecies relationship, interspecies sex, interspecies romance, yes it is a ship fic, smut, romancing, Beauty and the Beast, Half AU, Noa hunt Mae, but the Noa falls in love with Mae, Long One Shot, Writer isn't English Native Speaker, etc

• Other nomae fanfics.

You and Me

No words

_________________________________

DO NOT COPY OR SHARE IT ELSEWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION!

• Noa and the Beast [One Shot]

**First Act**

_________________________________

The day was coming to an end. Noa was returning home with a successful hunt. He and his friends had managed to catch a pair of rabbits and a adult deer, earning them a warm welcome.

The situation was difficult for the village. Since his father had died, he and his mother were the only hope for their survival. They had to lead the rest to survive, and that was his duty as the new leader of the village.

"Well done, son," his mother said.

Noa sat down beside his mother, hugging her and offering her a piece of food, which she refused.

Their happiness was interrupted by some apes who arrived running and shouting.

"It's an Echo! We've seen one near here!"

Noa managed to understand what one of them was saying.

"Calm down," Noa said, standing up and addressing them. "It's probably just passing through. Echos usually move when it starts to get cold."

"This one is different. We've heard it talk! It was settling near the village."

Another ape spoke up, frightened.

"Don't worry, it won't hurt us."

"You don't understand. Echos are evil, the farther away from us, the better."

"If that means underground, even better."

"Yes!"

Many of the apes supported the idea of killing the Echo.

"We can't act impulsively. We need to think with a clear head."

Noa defended the idea of reaching a consensus.

"You're our leader. You must defend our home from those things!"

The ape began to feel the pressure from his village. Everyone wanted to see how the new leader would handle a dangerous situation.

"Fine! I'll take care of it myself." Noa didn't like the idea, but he said, "Tomorrow, I'll go to where you saw it and bring back proof that the Echo is no longer a problem."

Noa received a big ovation, but he couldn't take his eyes off his mother, who disapproved of his attitude.

_________________________________

**Second Act**

_________________________________

Anaya and Soona, Noa's best friends, were already ready to go after the Echo. They were determined to accompany their leader, not just as friends, but as family.

The plan was to approach the Echo on foot, without horses, so as not to scare it, and kill it with the arrows they used for hunting. But Noa had taken something else from the village - a remedy that they took when they felt pain, in case he couldn't bear the scene, he would give it to the Echo himself.

It would have been just another Echo, but the idea of being able to hear one talk for the first time had haunted him all night. What if he could talk to it? What if it could defend itself by talking? What set them apart from animals if they couldn't talk?

But his village needed him. They had never encountered an Echo like this before, and it was a danger to his people. It was written that way.

When they were far enough from the village, Noa turned to his friends, stopping them.

"I have to go alone from here."

"What? No, we're not going to leave you." Soona approached him, grabbing his hands.

"Soona, I have to do this alone. I'm the leader now, and I have to be responsible for my words and my responsibilities towards our people. And one of those responsibilities is taking care of you too."

"I don't care about your position. We also want to take care of you."

Anaya joined the two, and they ended up in a three-way hug.

"I'm sure I can handle this. But I need to do it alone." He finally convinced them.

Anaya and Soona walked away, and he began to walk forward. He didn't look back, it would be easier to fulfill his responsibility alone and as the leader he had to be.

_________________________________

**Third Act**

_________________________________

He could observe her easily. She didn't seem to have seen him, and she continued with her life as usual. She walked back and forth, going to and from the river near the home she had built.

She was very resourceful. With the help of stones, branches, sticks, and leaves, she had built a kind of settlement near the river. She had everything she needed to survive just a few steps away.

Noa couldn't help but analyze her. From her physical features to her delicate movements. What she seemed to be doing was cooking with leaves and fruits he couldn't recognize.

They had warned him that this Echo was not normal. If she could talk, it was already very different from the ones he had encountered before, but he had never imagined what he had in front of him. If it weren't for her small body, little hair, small eyes, small hands, small waist, the bulge on her chest, and small feet, he could have sworn he was looking at an ape.

But he had to push those thoughts out of his mind. He had come to kill her, and he had already wasted too much time analyzing her.

He raised his bow and placed the arrow right at the Echo's heart direction. His hands were shaking. It was the first time they had shaken like that. He had to admit, this wasn't a normal hunt. He wasn't going to kill her out of necessity, nor did he need her skin or any part of her body. He was going to kill her because he feared her. Not just him, but his people. And that had to be his thought, his people were waiting for him to bring back proof of the event.

His vision became blurry as his heart began to beat strongly, he couldn't look. He released the arrow without being able to see well where it was headed.

"Ah!"

He heard the Echo's despairing cry.

_________________________________

**Fourth Act**

_________________________________

Noa found himself in front of the Echo. His blurry vision and sweaty hands hadn't allowed him to hit his target. His main objective was the Echo's heart, but due to his nerves, the arrow had ended up hitting one of her sides.

She looked at him with open, frightened eyes, trembling while she held her side. She had pulled out the arrow and was trying to stop the bleeding.

Noa could have stood there, watching her die from bleeding, but he couldn't help but approach her and offer her a piece of cloth from his own arm to stop the bleeding.

The human looked at him doubtfully, taking the cloth.

"Why?"

He didn't know what to answer. Why had he attacked her? Why was he helping her? Because his heart was in constant struggle over what was right against his mind.

Echos had to be kept away. They wouldn't approach them, and they wouldn't live with them. Beyond the Valley was forbidden to cross because Echos were there.

The elders of his clan described them as monsters that killed each other, creatures that took everything around them and massacred it. Wild animals that would kill their own siblings for power.

But in front of Noa, he saw a smaller creature than him, harmless, and not having harmed them, alone, and with no signs of damage to nature around her. Not even signs of fires or dead animals.

Noa crouched down beside the human and covered her wound, helping her stop the bleeding.

"I don't know why. Neither do I."

_________________________________

**Fifth Act**

_________________________________

Noa had decided to move the unconscious Echo to the nest of leaves covered by a roof of branches. At least there, she would be comfortable and covered in case the sun bothered her or it rained. But he had to go back to the village, he had to go back to Anaya and Soona, because if he took too long, he was sure they would come to see what had happened to him, and that wouldn't be good.

He had to do it quickly. Kill the nearest animal he could find, so he would have something to feed the Echo when she woke up, but also use a significant part of it to show in his village, her heart.

A hare had been the sacrifice for his plan, he didn't have time to go for a bigger animal, and with the hare's heart, he was sure his village would calm down.

He took long strides, quickly, so as not to take too long. Right where he had left them, Anaya and Soona were waiting for him. They ran to hug him and looked at what he was carrying.

"Did you do it?" Soona asked, stepping back from the hug.

"Yes."

He was lying. He was lying to his friends for an Echo. But he didn't have another choice.

In the village, they received him as the leader he was. With hugs and praise towards him. He couldn't bear the weight on his chest. He was lying to everyone.

"Son, are you okay?" His mother was the only one who could feel something in him, and she didn't take long to approach him and ask questions.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be? We've gotten rid of that Echo! Isn't that right?"

"Because it's the first time you're acting like the leader of the clan." His mother hugged him. "I know it's hard, going against your ideals to follow the clan's ideals. No one asks if you're okay when you come back, they just receive you as the leader."

"I'm fine, mom."

She was the only one who could discover everything if she noticed his strange behavior. So he had to act normally... how was he supposed to act normally after supposedly killing an Echo that hadn't done anything to them?

_________________________________

**Sixth Act**

_________________________________

That same morning, Noa had gone back to where the Echo was. He expected to find her where he had left her, but he was surprised to see her standing, trembling, by the riverbank.

"Hey, you shouldn't be there."

She jumped back, trying to get away from him.

"It's okay, I'm here to help you."

"You're the one who hurt me."

Well, he couldn't deny that.

"I'm sorry. Please, let me help you."

"H-how can you apologize for something like that?"

She had started to breathe with difficulty, holding her wound.

"Sh, it's okay. We'll talk when you're cured."

Noa held her wound again, seeing how it was still humid, and proceeded to clean it, forcing her to lie down on the nest.

The ape had brought new bandages in case he needed to change them, so he proceeded to change them.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you."

"It's hard to believe. Did you think I was livestock or something?"

"No, my village is scared of you, and they wanted me to kill you."

"And, why didn't you?"

Noa continued to change the bandages, unable to look her in the eye.

"I don't know. I didn't want to kill you personally, without knowing you. But it's my duty as the leader."

That information silenced the human. She grabbed his hand with the one he was using to clean her.

"Well, as the leader, stop. You've done your duty, you've tried to kill me, give them that information, and I'll run away from here. That way, you can say I escaped."

Noa shook his head, turning his hand to hold hers.

"No, you're already dead to them."

_________________________________

**Seventh Act**

_________________________________

Noa had been going back and forth from the village to where Mae, the Echo, was for a week.

During the day, he took care of his leader duties, and at dawn, he would return to the human's nest, where he would cure her, feed her, and take care of her. In those moments, they would talk, forgetting about the ape's attempt to assassinate her. Mae had opened up completely to him.

A human who had lost her family recently and was trying to survive away from the rest of humans who had hurt her. He didn't understand how they had hurt her if she didn't have that physical aspect, only the wound he had inflicted on her. But she explained that the wounds those humans had inflicted on her were not visible on her body, but in her heart.

Noa felt like seeking out those humans and defending the human to make her feel better. But she told him she was already learning to forget them.

"The wound is much better."

He didn't like how she was healing so quickly. Mae would have to leave when she was fully cured, that had been their agreement, but he wasn't ready to say goodbye so soon.

"Yes, I can do things on my own now. You should rest more at night and not come to see me."

"I don't need to rest. I want to come see you."

"Noa..."

"What?"

The ape continued making the meal, actually watching how the fire was made.

"You know I've forgiven you. You don't have to keep feeling guilty. Forgive yourself too."

"I-I can't. I failed my village. But I also failed you. If only I had shot higher, you would be dead and I wouldn't have met you."

"But you're a good ape and didn't do it. If it had happened this way or that, it wouldn't exist anymore. The reality is that we've met."

________________________________

**Eighth Act**

_________________________________

That day, his mother wouldn't leave his side. She observed him closely without speaking, but that made him even more nervous.

"What? What's going on?"

He stopped in front of her.

"Son, you can lie to the whole world, but not to your mother."

"What do you mean?"

"Your nighttime escapes, the lack of sales, your fatigue during the day. Tell me, son. Where do you escape to?"

"Nowhere, mom. Just... I go climbing alone to relax and sleep."

"Yesterday, you slept very late, the sun had already risen. And you started talking in your sleep."

Noa averted his gaze so she couldn't keep reading him like that.

"Your dreams mentioned Mae's name."

"Oh, nonsense. I don't know anyone by that name."

He turned around, trying to ignore his mother's comments so as not to get more nervous.

"Son, do you sneak out at night to see Mae? Is she the Echo you didn't kill?"

"Mother! I don't know what you're talking about!"

"I've known you since you came out of me. Small, hairy, and noisy. Since you were very young, you showed that you weren't like the rest of the apes. You were very analytical and more intelligent than most. Your father knew that you took twice as long to think things through, just like your grandfather."

"Mom..."

"That's why I knew when they asked you to fulfill this responsibility that you would take your time to think it through and not do it, because you're a fair son of mine."

"Mom, I couldn't kill her. She hadn't done anything to us and lived peacefully alone by the river. She didn't pose any danger like the elders make us believe."

"I know, son. I know you very well."

His mother hugged him, and he took refuge in her arms. Taking a weight off his shoulders since he wasn't the only one who knew about Mae's existence.

And not just the two of them anymore. One of the aoes in charge of the birds had overheard their conversation, hiding from mother and son.

_________________________________

**Ninth Act**

_________________________________

That morning, Noa found Mae packed and ready to leave, with her things in a backpack and the fire extinguished.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to leave now, Noa."

"What? No, why? You're still hurt. You can't leave yet."

"I'm not hurt anymore, Noa. You saved me."

"No, no, no, no."

Noa grabbed the girl's hands, trying to stop her.

"We knew this moment would come. I'm very grateful that you gave me the opportunity to meet you."

"No! It's the other way around. I tried to kill you and you forgave me, letting me into your life."

"That doesn't matter anymore, Noa."

"Yes, it does. I came here to kill you because I thought you were an animal, a monster, a beast. And I ended up realizing that the only beast here is me."

"Don't be so hard on yourself."

"I have to be. I can't forgive myself because if I do, I'll think I have a chance with you and it's not like that. I can't, n-no..."

Mae grabbed his cheeks, making him lean his forehead against hers, looking into his eyes.

"You're not a beast. You're my savior, but I have to leave so I don't cause you more problems."

Noa shook his head and leaned in to kiss the human, savoring the sweet taste of Mae's mouth.

They separated as they heard horses and apes cries.

________________________________

**Tenth Act**

_________________________________

Noa was startled. The only apes near the river were from his village. And it couldn't be, they didn't have any nighttime exploration planned.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know."

He turned to the human, grabbing her cheeks to make her look at him.

"Don't worry, you hide. I'll go see what's happening."

Mae looked towards something behind the ape's back, and he turned to see what had caught her attention, finding his friends.

"Noa."

The two apes ran to hug him.

"You don't know what's going on in the village. Maximo told them about the Echo and they're all coming to kill her."

Anaya explained quickly, without taking a breath.

"How did you know?"

"Why didn't you tell us?"

Soona responded with another question.

"I couldn't. She was in danger."

"We're your friends! We would have helped." -Soona raised her voice.-

"It's okay, guys. We'll discuss this later. Now we have to help the Echo." -Anaya turned to Mae.

"You have to distract them while I help her escape." -Noa grabbed Mae's hand.

"No!" -Soona refused.- "You're the clan leader, you have to give them explanations after what they found out. You have to be consistent."

The ape couldn't refuse. His friend was right.

"Mae." -he turned to her, grabbing her shoulders.- "You're going with Soona and Anaya, they'll help you."

"I'm staying with you." -Soona gave him her back as he said goodbye.-

He couldn't make her change her mind, as the apes were approaching.

"Echo. It's better if you get on my back and I'll run." -Anaya offered her back to Mae, and she got on without taking her eyes off Noa.-

________________________________

**Eleventh Act**

_________________________________

The group of apes arrived, finding Noa and Soona together. Both apes were standing side by side, bearing the gaze of the rest.

"Where is she?"

"We know, Noa. The Echo is still alive."

"We have to kill her before she attacks us."

"She's a demon."

Several apes spoke at once.

"Silence!" -Noa shouted, making them all quiet.- "She's not a demon! We're the ones who pursued her and tried to kill her without harming us."

"She'll do it, it's written."

"The elders say so."

"The elders are wrong!" -Noa shouted again.- "And the laws are wrong!"

"Noa, step aside!"

Several apes approached violently. He couldn't let his clan lose respect for their leader.

As the leader of the eagle clan and respectful of his clan's ancient tradition, he began to sing. He still hadn't joined with any bird. Due to his father's death, he had decided to wait out of respect for the previous leader. But now... it was the only solution he could think of to regain his clan's respect.

He continued singing, and no eagle came.

"It doesn't work like that!"

"What eagle would want to join you after you betrayed us?"

The apes' voices enraged him. His voice rose above theirs, and a large eagle with a strong presence landed on his arm.

When Noa looked up, he was surprised to see the eagle Sun, his father's eagle. Known as the strongestin its nest and stubborn like his father. Everyone feared and respected it.

_________________________________

**Twelfth Act**

_________________________________

Most of the apes kneeled before Noa, who stood proudly, looking at the eagle on his arm.

"It can't be, the eagle Sun has finally chosen its new master."

"It can't be, Noa, he's a traitor."

"Maximo, stop talking like that about the clan leader. He's already proven with actions that we should trust him."

One ape began to defend him, and most of them joined in. Noa knew he had regained his title as leader.

"We can't forgive his lie!"

That ape, Maximo, ran forward. Noa saw his intention to go after Noa and Anaya, so he stood in front of him, growling.

"You're not going to pass!" -he shouted, making Maximo take a few steps back.- "The Echo is my responsibility." -Noa began to address everyone.- "If anyone has a problem with her, they should come to me and I'll resolve it."

Maximo walked away with his head down.

The rest of the a apes roached to congratulate him on his union with Sol, and Soona stepped aside, observing him. In the end, it hadn't been necessary to help him; he was the clan leader, and she regretted having doubted it.

_________________________________

**Thirteenth Act**

_________________________________

The next morning, Noa met with Mae again. Anaya had told him the location where she had hidden her, in the cave where the three of them used to hide as children when they wanted to escape from their parents or play pranks.

Anaya had confided in Mae about the location, knowing how important it was to her friend Noa.

The ape and the human looked at each other intensely when they met. Mae was sitting on a rock, holding a piece of fruit, and had heard him enter. She was anxious to see him.

"Noa!" -she stood up, looking him up and down.- "Didn't they hurt you?"

"No, no, Mae." -Noa put his forehead against the human's, closing his eyes and breathing in her scent more closely.- "Y-you, are you okay?"

Mae let out a laugh.

"I'm fine. You faced your clan for... for me."

"Yes, for you. But I know that's not as scary as riding on Anaya's back and climbing up here with his rough scaling."

"Anaya took good care of me, you don't have to worry."

"I know."

Neither of them wanted to break the silence that followed. They hugged, feeling each other's skin so close. Mae's breath hit Noa's lips, and he couldn't resist anymore, leaning in to kiss her again, this time knowing every centimeter of her lips and mouth as he introduced his tongue.

"Noa."

Mae whispered the ape's name, and she pulled away, placing his lips on her cheek.

"You shouldn't kiss me like that. And I won't be able to leave if we keep doing this."

"Then don't leave. There's no need, no one wants you to leave. Come with me and live in my village, with my clan."

"No! Noa, I don't want to bring you more problems."

"You're not going to bring more problems." -Noa hugged her.- "Since I met you, you've brought nothing but joy and laughter and good thoughts to my life. You've made me happy, and I don't want to lose you."

"Okay."

Noa shouted happily, hugging the girl and lifting her up.

"You make me so happy, I love you!"

Mae looked into his eyes, unable to respond since she had lost her breath.

The human leaned in, kissing him again, this time with tenderness, and pulled away after a few seconds. As if her lips had given him strength and air to speak, she responded.

"I love you too."

_________________________________

**Final Act**

_________________________________

Mae moved in with them. The village had welcomed her with open arms when they saw her arrive with their leader.

Noa's mother received her literally in her arms, in a strong hug.

"Welcome."

The Echo, the beast everyone had feared, had found a place in everyone's heart. She had sought her place in the village and now fulfilled her responsibilities so that no one would ever have to take care of her again.

A certain leader wasn't very happy about it, since it meant they spent less time together, but he was happy seeing how everyone had learned to love her.

There was even a moment when he felt jealous of the attention she gave to the other apes.

Mae dedicated herself to healing and feeding the smaller or injured apes, or those who were lonely. This made her spend more time with others than with him. But he couldn't say anything, he had to fulfill his clan duties too.

At least he had the hope of ending the day and finding her in his nest again.

"Noa."

Mae sighed in his ear. Noa couldn't help but lie down next to the human and kiss her from her cheek to her neck. He had seen her sleeping already, but he missed her and needed to feel her in his arms.

He placed himself on top of her, lifting her clothes and pushing them aside. It wasn't the first time they had done it, but he had understood that those garments were important to cover the human's attributes. For the apes, it was rare to see those clothes, but Noa's ego grew when only he could see her like that.

Naked, trembling from his kisses and caresses, and so sensitive that she responded to every touch he gave her.

He introduced his virility, making her moan, making them both moan. His thrusts were quick and concise. That night, he needed to feel her with urgency. The desperation in his chest to make her reach climax and hear her scream his name.

"Noa!"

That scream and the contractions of the human's vagina around his penis made him come with a grunt.

"Mae, Mae."

He leaned on her, placing his elbows on both sides of Mae to avoid hurting her, and waited for his heart to calm down after coming.

"I love you."

He heard Mae.

"I love you too."

The ape responded before falling asleep next to her.

His life had taken a huge turn since the Echo, his Echo, had entered it. From believing he was going to kill a beast, to believing he had become one, to falling in love with an Echo. She had saved him from drowning in a life full of desperation and lies. She had entered his life to make the monsters that haunted him disappear. Mae was, is, and will be the love of his life forever.

________________________________

END.