#I can lie through my teeth bitch

[elfieafterdark]

Imagine that you're Dulcinea, for a hot second here. Because your house is so fucked up you were born with fuckin super cancer. You're going to die before you're 30.

Then you receive a letter stating that the emperor needs lyctors. You have a chance to not die. You obviously take it. But then, some fucking bitch you've never seen before shows up, kills your Cavalier in the blink of an eye, and then starts grilling you about your life.

You know this crazy lady is going to kill you, you know she's going to take your place otherwise she wouldn't be asking all these questions.

So you lie through your fuckin teeth, you tell her the most fanciful bullshit about yourself, you don't even mention your on-again off again penpal lover.

She kills you. You're dead.

Then you... Aren't? You're in a building you've never seen before, surrounded by people you don't know, but they seem to know you. Also Pro is here but you know that he's dead so... Wtf?

But you still go along with it because you're an absolute badass.

Then people are getting murdered, shit gets real, you don't understand, but you're here anyway. And it all feels wrong.

And the wrong is all centered on the angry little goth nunlet. So, naturally, once the mystery is tidied up nicely, you stay behind a little longer than you should to tell her something.

Something important.

Then you fuck off back to the afterlife.

Can I just say? Dulcinea is a total bad bitch queen and I love her? She fooled Cytherea so good. And she's horny for revenge.

Rest easy my love 💖

[bombsonboard]

metal arm brrr

Summary: Every problem needs a solution. Bucky just isn't the biggest fan of yours.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Tags: Fluff in the highest degree, old married couple, Swearing (It's Bucky, duh)

A/N: I just needed to give you guys something, it's been too long since i've written on here and you guys are the best :) I've barely checked this over so I apologize for any typos.

*****

“Can you stop moving, please?” 

Bucky Barnes half asleep is not someone you want to mess with. The first time you shuffled he had hardly made a sound, the second you were met with a low grumble (a warning you knew well) and the third strike, he was thirty seconds from kicking you out of the bed. 

When Bucky had finally learnt to sleep in a bed again, mostly thanks to you, he steadily became a big fan of his beauty sleep and god help anyone who ended up disturbing him. He had a lot to catch up on. Once, you had violently shaken him awake because his phone was ringing and when he heard Sam on the other line, you were deemed a ‘sleep thief’ for a week and a half after. Bucky Barnes was a bitch when it came to his sleep. 

You usually wouldn't have any complaints about being in his vice grip but it was January and the nights were still cold and having a boyfriend with a metal arm meant that you were held to him with an ice cold grip around your waist. When the Summer came, it was a life saver, your own personal refrigerator but you still had a good few months to go before you were hanging off his arm everyday. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled and tried to convince yourself you were comfortable without another word.

Nope, can’t do it. You shift again. 

“You’re kidding- what is it?” He pulls away from you and sits up on his elbow, glaring, he dares you. “Go on.”

With the most innocent doe eyes you could muster you slip your bottom lip between your teeth and debate the argument you could spark when your gaze slips to his vibranium arm in the semi darkness.

He doesn’t miss a thing, you’ve come to realize.

“I swear if you say-”

“-It’s cold! I’m cold! It’s just too much cold!” You burst, arms flailing in desperation. 

“It’s my arm! You said you wanted to sleep on my left, this is my left arm, nothing I can do. Okay?”

“There has to be something.” You search the room for solutions, briefly lingering on the sock drawer. 

“Oh yeah, sorry, let me just take it off.” Bucky grunts, dripping with sarcasm. 

“...If you could?”

“Seriously, fuck you.” 

Bucky falls back into his beloved pillow, eyes shut and wishing he has chosen a partner that let him sleep peacefully, then again, why would he want that when you exist?

“Look, either come to the other side or deal with it.” 

Silence finally reaches your bedroom and Bucky is deeply in dreamland while you lie awake, scheming away. 

In the early hours, you slip out of bed without a sound and make a beeline for the sock drawer, knowing you had some old pairs of slipper socks stuffed at the back. Scissors in hand, you snipped off the toes and smiled at the D.I.Y leg warmers. Oh, he was gonna be mad. 

With nearly medical precision, you held out the slumbering Bucky’s arm in front of you and one by one, slid the fluffy socks up the freezing metal until it was sufficiently covered. Thanking the universe, he was a pretty heavy sleeper, you shuffled back under the covers and happily wrapped the soft arm back around your waist. 

You slept like a lamb after that.

*****

When the morning came, you woke up before him like usual and briefly left him to his own devices as you made coffee, two mugs sitting on the counter beside each other. 

Through the wall, you faintly hear the rising of the soldier before heavy footsteps quickly storm in your direction.

“The fuck is this?”

You look up to see him in the doorway, and find yourself the subject of a stare that would send millions running. Not you. The multicolored socks lined up his arm kind of softened his hoped effect and you had to stifle your laughter. 

“A solution?” You shrug.

“No.” He points at you with his flesh arm accusingly “Nu-uh. This? This is not how we solve things.”

“Is it not? I’m really digging the rainbow on you.” The giggle you had tried to push down had spilled over.

“You’re a fucking menace.” 

The giggle now a full bodied laugh that had you clutching at your chest as you were overcome with the image of your big, scary, ‘world’s most deadly assassin’ boyfriend glaring daggers at you while donning the most fluffy and most colorful socks up his arm.

Bucky was fighting a grin with all his might, your laughter was like an ugly disease, incredibly contagious, hard to avoid, and annoying.

Something soft hits you in the face and you halt your hysterics as you peer at the slipper sock now at your feet. Lifting your gaze, Bucky is smiling smugly, and working a second sock off his arm. 

“Bucky!” You yelp and duck under the counter as the rainbow sock flies in slow motion over your head. 

You probably shouldn’t poke the bear but-

“Y’know, for the best shot the United States army had ever seen you sure do miss a lot.” You taunt from your hiding spot.

When there's no response, you make a break for the couch and get shot squarely in the forehead.

“Say that again.” He dares with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, truce. Truce!” You raise your hands in surrender. 

“Say sorry for last night.” The pink ball of fluff in his hands, a deadly fate, and you’re consigned to concede

“I apologize for last night.” You sigh, approaching him with caution “Now, it’s been ten whole minutes and you still haven’t subjected me to your obscene morning breath.”

He beckons you with his head and you happily plod over, throwing your arms around his neck. The kiss is sweet, and full of promised mornings to come.

It’s welcomed by you. Until you feel the coldest thing known to man, his left arm, writhing under your shirt and sending immediate shivers down your back. 

“Bucky!” You screech and his strong laughter descends on your morning with malice.

Desperately wiggling out of his hold, you escape to the bedroom and yell from your stronghold:

“That was an act of war James Buchanan Barnes!”

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ ⌇ SHARING IS CARING. featuring s. kong + t. fushiguro.

↻ shiu gives toji an offer too good to refuse.

tags : voyeurism, phone sex, male masturbation, dirty talk, cowgirl, mentions of threesomes, slut shaming // wc. 0.7k

author’s note : there isn’t enough shiu content out there ‘m afraid, and it HURTS MEE considering i love him from infinity 2 infinity. toji and shiu are the BADDEST 2man out there and i for one would not mind gettin backshots from both ;p as always, notes n reblogs are much appreciated !! (and thank you for 300 followers!)

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

for TOJI FUSHIGURO, finding work is hard. he can’t exactly just stroll into the next place that’s hiring and hand in his cv like every other person, because unlike every other person, toji’s cv would be filled to the brim with the names of all the people he’s killed.

toji fushiguro is an assassin, and it would be a lie to say that sometimes he doesn’t hate his fucking job.

“you got anything for me?” he sits on his beaten up couch, chopsticks in hand and horse races on the television as he slurps up the last of his cup ramen. “c’mon, boss. there’s gotta be somethin’. everybody wants somebody dead these days.”

“i’m afraid not.” his boss, or more, his contractor, SHIU sighs on the other end of the line. “i told you i’d call if i had anything. work’s tight for me too.”

the line goes silent, and although shiu hasn’t quite hung up yet, toji throws back his head and groans. how hard is it for an assassin to find somebody to kill these days? the whole gig isn’t particularly helpful, either. he gets paid in lump amounts with no idea when his next job is coming through, and at times like this, toji does in fact consider paying a visit to the job centre.

just as he’s about to thank shiu for jack shit and hang up, a muffled whine on the other line drags him out of his thoughts.

“you got your girl there with you, boss?”

“i’m at home. ‘course she’s here with me.”

toji smiles. “hi there, lil’lady. whatcha up to?”

on the other end of the line, you bury your head into shiu’s neck, face flushed as you halt all movement on his lap. “nothin’.”

“don’t sound like nothin’ to me, doll. he treatin’ you good?” toji hears shiu laugh quietly through the phone.

“she doesn’t answer to you, idiot. and for the record, i’m givin’ her everything she needs and more, isn’t that right, baby?” he grinds his hips upwards and you gasp at the feeling of his tip nudging your sweet spot. “tell him how good ‘m treatin’ you.”

by this point, toji’s muted the races and put down his chopsticks, switching his phone to loudspeaker and balancing it on his shoulder so he can hear every sweet sound you’re making. his cock is out of his sweats in no time, precum staining his shirt as his tip presses up onto his abdomen.

“ ‘s g-good,” you hiccup, tears in your eyes as shiu rests a hand on your ass and starts to move you back and forth on his length. “so good, ‘n so big.”

“mm, bet that’s right, angel,” toji drawls, hand occupied with fisting his cock in time with the faint shlicking sounds echoing through his speaker. “how ‘bout next time, you get two cocks instead of one?”

“don’t get too ahead of yourself, zenin. she’s my bitch.” shiu’s tone is sour as he bucks his hips upwards, causing you to whine out.

“yeah, but I bet that slut would take it if we gave it to her.” toji grins, hand quickening when he hears you groan on the other end of the line. “sounds like she’d like that. ‘n i already told you, it’s fushiguro.”

“same difference.” it sounds like shiu’s struggling to maintain an even tone when he feels you clench down on him hard, teeth gritting as your nails dig into the fabric of his suit. “but i agree, it seems like she likes your idea. next time, instead of paying you a lump sum, i’ll let you fuck her instead.”

toji smiles, head tilting backwards as he feels his stomach begin to tighten. “nuh-uh, i still want my money.” his thumb flicks over the slit on his tip, swiping up the precum and spreading it along his pulsing length. “but i’ll take you up on your offer. cant want to try out her sweet cunt.”

on the other end of the line, you squeal, walls clamping down on shiu as you reach your climax. a loud slap resounds through toji’s phone and he grunts, ropes of white painting his knuckles as he finishes in his palm.

“she came too early. only started fuckin’ her since the time you called.”

“sounds like you haven’t been treating your bitch too well, boss, otherwise she wouldn't have been so desperate.” toji smiles, looking at the mess on his hands and shirt. “call me when you have another job. can’t wait to get my sweet reward.”

and with that, he hangs up.

PREVIOUS : DRESS UP DOLL ft. satoru gojo NEXT : FWB ft. aki hayakawa

liked that? check out the WE’RE SO BACK main masterlist.

© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.

[lilac-5ky]

Holed Up (Husband!Toji x Fem!Reader)

mini kinktober tribute: stuck in a wall/hole

plot: you should've known that asking Toji to help you out of a hole would lead him inside another—or that time you got stuck in the dog house and he bailed on you for KFC.

tags: MDNI, stuck in a wall/hole, pet play (kinda), breeding, doggy style, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), spanking, pet names (bitch, baby), established relationship, crack plot, unsolicited kfc orders, i promise toji loves reader, he's just joking guys.

wc: 2.2k

Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist | AO3

“Whatcha doing?”

Sarcasm rolls from your husband’s tongue as he stares down at you. Back arched, knees bent, and head encased by wooden planks. Not the most flattering position to be found in, especially with how the light autumn breeze blows at your dress and parts its layers, opening a window to the pink panties of your choice.

His question feels excessive. He knows exactly what you are doing. It was only this morning that you asked him to dig poor ol’ Mister Stinky’s remains from the dog house and he claimed he’d rather buy his son a replacement. No arguing there, but should Megumi see what became of his favored stuffed animal—fuzzy entrails gutted out of the frog’s shredded belly in a path initiating from his bedroom—he’ll be having nightmares for weeks to come.

Besides, you doubt synthetic is the kind of fiber your vet prescribed for your puppy's diet.

“What you should’ve done instead.” You finally spit out, contempt over what Toji’s long fingers could’ve accomplished without him needing to stick half his body into a hole like your, admittedly, dumbass self did.

“For thirty minutes straight? Damn, seems I overestimated ya.”

Even though your view of him is limited to a pair of overworn black slippers, you can vividly picture his scarred lips pulling over his teeth in another of his complacent smirks that scream I told you so.

“Don’t have anything better to do than time me?”

“Nah,” Toji drawls. “Grew tired of waiting on ya, so I thought I’d come see how it’s going.”

“It’s going great!” You lie through your teeth. Anyone with a functioning pair of eyes could see how non-great this is going. “Anything else you need?”

“Well it is noon.” He points out.

“And?”

“And my darling wife’s out ‘ere, rolling in the mud when she should be having lunch with me.”

A snort flares in your nostrils. He is unbelievable.

“What a cute way of letting me know you’re hungry, Toji. You know, if you’d actually helped, I would’ve had the time to set the table and give Mister Stinky a proper burial, but I can’t do both at the same time, can I?”

“Mhm, so how ‘bout we help each other?” He suggests, undeterred. “I get your ass out, and you cook us somethin’ tasty real quick.”

“Wh-who said I was stuck? I can get out whenever I want.”

“Really, huh? What keeps ya from getting out this instant, then?”

“I don’t want to.” You answer wryly. “I like it here. It’s quiet, and I could use some time for myself.”

“In the dog house.” His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. He’s not buying an ounce of what you’re selling. “C’mon, don’t be stubborn. You’ll end up reeking of dung if ya stay here a minute longer. Lemme give ya a hand.”

You know that accepting his help comes at the exorbitant price of utter humiliation, but he’s got a point. Last night’s downpour emanates strongly from the saturated wood, a dizzying smell that turns overwhelming when combined with the strong odor of what you sincerely hope is not piss. Your knees are on the verge of collapsing, and there’s more dirt in your nails than if you dug a grave barehanded. Right now, a day in the bathtub seems like a panacea for your every issue.

Almost.

Kissing your teeth, you resign with a long-drawn sigh that’s barely audible over the rumble in your stomach. You shouldn’t have skipped breakfast.

A moment passes before you hear the crunch of leaves as they rustle beneath his feet; see a second pair of knees take place between your own. Then it’s two hands gripping at your hips, and eventually, a face—your husband’s handsome face that beams with a smug smile and eyes of mischief.

“Lookin’ good, sweetheart.” He greets, though you doubt he sees your face with all the hair that’s curtaining over your eyes while you hang upside down.

“What are you doing, Toji?” You recycle his question in an aggravated tone that fizzles out the second you feel his thumb press against your panties and tug the fabric to the side.

“Nothin’. Just curbing my hunger.” His finger teasingly glides across your nether lips and lands at your clit, while a palm large enough to envelope both your ass and cunt kneads at the tender flesh he’s offered. “Fridge’s empty, so.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“‘m not laughing, but c’mon. You hafta admit it’s pretty damn funny.” Warm air wafts from Toji’s mouth as he inches closer to your thighs. “Y’always whine when I fuck you from behind, but now? Look at you. Bent on all four like a real bitch.”

“T-Toji!”

Your breath hitches in your throat as he slides two fingers in your hole, languidly scissoring them in and out until there’s enough slick to lather your clit with. He circles around the nub while his fingers prod deeper inside, the icy touch of his wedding band clashing with the heat that sparks through your body when he bottoms out. A smothered moan gains echo as it bounces off the walls and into his ears.

“Such a well-trained pup,” Toji praises, retrieving his palm to lick his fingers. “Might win yourself a collar at this rate.”

You bite back your tongue before it can react to his backhanded comment, reminding yourself that you’re still outside, right where your neighbors can peek over the white picket fence for a quick hello and catch you slutting yourself out on your husband’s fingers.

“Can’t we continue this inside? Mrs. Honda is right next door, and M-Megumi—” You stutter when his palm returns to your body, its twin joining in spreading your cheeks further apart.

“Kid’s at school for another hour,” Toji mumbles, his hot tongue parting your folds with a long stroke that has your knees buckling. “So fuckin’ good,” he groans, his nose buried between your two holes while he lazily laps at your juices. “That sweet cunt is the reason why I married ya.”

You keen to his touch, hips bucking into his mouth, and walls clenching for more. “Only reason?”

“Nah. Consider that tight little ass as the second.”

His fingers burrow into the supple skin to squeeze at it, only lifting to deliver playful smacks that cause your ass to jiggle against his face. He growls into your pussy, mouthing all sorts of filth that gets drowned by your moans. It feels so good when he eats you out—it always does—but the probability of being caught in such a compromising position adds to the excitement.

The hand that’s trapped with you inside your pet’s house scratches at the wood, while the other rakes at the soil for grounding. Your orgasm creeps up on you, turning your vision blurry and tinting the darkness of space with colored specks. You are so close; all he needs to do is keep swirling at your clit, swallowing the entire bundle of nerves in his mouth, and sucking hard until—

“Ah, right.” He stops, words slurring from the threads of saliva that link his mouth with your cunt. “You said ya wanted time with yourself.”

Anger washes over you in place of the orgasm you were robbed of, the pleasurable fireworks traded for the obnoxious red alarm that goes off in your brain. “Toji, I swear to God, if you don’t fuck me right fucking now, the only lunch you’ll be seeing is KFC buckets for the rest of your life!”

A low chuckle falls flat from his lips. “Three. I love that snappy mouth ‘f yours.”

In an attempt to meet his eyes, you duck between your legs. Your hair mops the floor as you watch him pull down his pants and boxers, the last thing you see before blood shoots up in your head being the hard cock that dangles out of reach. The heat in your stomach stirs at the sight, anticipation building rapidly when you feel him run the reddened tip between your puffy folds.

“Sure you don’t want it here?” Toji taps his cock against your ass hole and your entire body jolts in response, a loud Toji amusing rather than deterring him. “A’right, a’right! Gotcha the first time.”

His profound dream of burying himself nine inches deep into your ass crumbles as he aligns his cock with the entrance of your pussy. You brace yourself, patiently awaiting that initial sting that never goes away; no matter how many times he fucks you or how diligently he preps you, the thickness of his girth always threatens to split you in half.

But now he’s stalling, a complacent smile sitting on his lips while he contemplates your silence. “Bet you’re red as a beet in there, aren’t ya?”

He plunges himself inside before you are given the chance to either prove or disprove him, a silent scream punched from your throat as his cock rams straight into your g-spot. He huffs a deep breath, barely keeping a groan bottled, when he feels your walls tighten around him. It’s suffocating. Wet, and tight—a little similar to what being stuck in that small space feels like for you, but infinitely more pleasurable for him.

"Mm, such a sloppy little cunt. Got yourself stuck in there for this, didn't ya?"

His fingers latch onto your hips, bruising you as his nails dig meanly into your skin. He drags his cock halfway out of your cunt only to snap his hips back in, picking up a pace that ramps up over time. His quick thrusts fuck you further into that hole, your tits bouncing and slapping against the hard wooden planks while your dress rides higher to expose your back.

Toji bends your body into an arch, a heavy palm situated on your stomach until you’re able to hold the position on your own.

“Like it when your husband fucks ya like a bitch?” He grunts, catching the hand that’s squirming on the grass beside him and twisting it behind your back. “Pounded in broad daylight f'everyone to see how dumb you get over my dick, huh?"

Your whimpers don’t go unnoticed by him. He laughs at the high pitch your voice has assumed, babbling his name an incomprehensible amount of times that exceeds the frequency with which his swollen cock head kisses your pulsing core. You can't think enough to reply, and you can't bring yourself to ask him to stop.

He smacks your ass loud enough for you to whine, alerting every last neighbor in the block to what is happening in their quaint suburban neighborhood. “Answer me.”

“Yes, Toji—fuck, love how big it feels.” Your thoughts stem from your pussy without being filtered by your brain. All your body knows is how badly it needs to be pushed over the edge, disregarding the scornful looks you’ll definitely be receiving at the next neighborhood watch assembly.

“That’s not what I asked.” Toji smacks your ass again, softer this time—or so it feels because of your numbing skin. “I asked, Who owns this pussy, mm?”

“That’s not what you asked at all!” Your talking back earns you a third spank. You realize you’ve got no agency of your own.

“Won’t ask again. Who. Owns. This. Pussy?” He punctuates each word with a thrust sharper than the one before, his cock twitching when he hears you screaming your answer at the top of your lungs.

“You do, T-Toji. My pussy is yours—ngh!”

“And who’s bitch are you, baby?”

“Your bitch!” You answer willingly, your mind clouded, and your logic dulled. “Fuck, Toji, you know I’m all yours.”

“Damn right, y’are.” He hums in response, hunching over your body to rub tight circles around your clit, jerking the nub up and down, round and round.

You’re almost there, and when he asks you whether you wanna be bred like one, the tension in your gut finally snaps, eyes involuntary crossing as white waves of pleasure overtake you.

He fucks you through your high at an animalistic pace, the thought of filling your belly with a baby that’s half his and half yours flooding his brain before your answer registers, his cum spilling deep within your pussy with a few sloppy pumps that squelch to the sound of your mixed fluids.

His moans mingle with yours, the rough sound of his voice raising goosebumps from where he kisses your back to the resounding ringing in your ears. He wraps his arms around you almost tenderly, peppering your back with kisses that almost convince you he’ll finally pull you out of that miserable hell hole but that’s not his intention. It never was.

A final smack meets with your ass right before he rolls his pants back up and walks toward the house, undisturbed by the screams that follow close on his trail.

“You said you’d get me out of here!” Your fist hits the ground, finges clenching around a tuft of grass blades that you violently root out.

“And you said you can get out whenever ya want. That you needed time for yourself, ‘member?”

“I didn’t mean that!” You object, your tone too squeaky to be taken seriously. “Toji, you’d better help me or else—”

“Or else what? KFC until I die?” He snorts. “Relax, I’ll come back before Megumi gets ‘ere.” You hear his phone buzzing as he—presumably—punches something in his search bar. Hot wings don’t sound too bad; he whispers for himself to hear, speaking up only when he asks you if you want him to order you a twister wrap or something before he closes his order.

a/n: the episode excited me too much, apologies. i was gonna post this later asdfghjkl but toji is back and we cum.

[falling-endlessly]

Boomerang (part 3)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: Your infuriating ex is planning something, and it's putting everyone on edge. But if he wants at the hotel, he'll have to go through you (and Alastor) first.

<— Part 2 Chapter Index Part 4 —>

—6 HOURS AGO—

"What," Valentino growled, claws creating cracks in the table from how hard he was gripping it. "The fuck did you just say?"

Velvette was no better. Her lip was pulled into a furious snarl, and for once her phone was nowhere to be seen. "Vox, are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Relax," Vox reclined in his chair, raising a brow at his murderous business partners. Velvette's eye twitched and the table creaked in protest under Valentino's fury. "I'm not actually going for redemption, damn, calm your tits people."

"What happened to keeping up an image for the brand?" Velvette banged a fist against her armrest, gritting her teeth. "The Morningstar bitch was literally humiliated on live television, and now you're going to personally advertise for her?!"

"The next extermination is coming sooner than ever, and people are getting desperate. This little publicity stunt can work in our favor," Vox crossed his claws under his chin, megawatt smile growing. "What's a little pity pitch going to hurt? Think about it, I can gather intel, fuck up Alastor's little project, and show Y/n where her allegiances should lie. Win-win-win," he chuckled ominously.

"Cut the shit, Vox," Valentino scoffed, leaning forward to sneer in his face. "It's obvious you're only going this far for that bitch. Can't keep a leash on your toys, hm?"

Vox grit his teeth, digging his claws into his thighs under the table. He knew this wasn't going to go over well, but to be talked down to by someone who was benefiting from him? "So what if I am?" He hid his rage with a large, mocking grin. "And by the way, where's Angel Dust? Haven't seen him around in a while."

Val's face twisted with rage. "You fucking—"

"Enough!" Velvette snapped, glaring at both of them. "I don't have time for this stupid shit. Get on with it or this meeting is over."

Vox's unhinged smile slowly relaxed into his charming PR one. "Of course, my apologies Velvette, Val. I can see why you're not...convinced yet. Let me fix that."

The projector on the wall suddenly sparked to life, displaying three pie charts and a legend with many colorful categories. He gestured to them from left to right. "This is a distribution of our profits from ten years ago, five years ago, and last year."

"We have eyes," Velvette droned boredly.

Vox's antennae sparked in irritation, but he continued regardless. "Y/n's helped develop countless programs and softwares, and with her expertise our earnings jumped thirty seven percent, especially during the collaboration between Voxtek and DeepSpace VR. Now, what happens now that she's taken her business elsewhere? Hell knows she has the computing power to run it without our servers—"

"So, we're supposed to just bend over backwards for a few bucks?" Valentino snarled, crossing his arms.

Vox's screen glitched as he struggled to keep his composure. Thirty seven percent was not just a few bucks. But he knew antagonizing Val right now was more trouble than it was worth. "Val," he chuckled, sauntering forward to rest a hand on the backrest of Valentino's chair, leaning into his space. "Since when have you said no to money?" His eye widened, rings spinning.

"Since it walked out on two legs and ignored us," Valentino snorted.

"Val, I need you to see the bigger picture!" He grasped both of Valentino's shoulders, moving behind him so he could speak enticingly into his ear. "This is an opportunity to keep our brand at the top, and get dirt on that radio bitch. The future is what matters, and we are going to be the ones pioneering it."

The projector flickered to one of the surveillance cameras pointed at an exterior angle of the hotel. Then, the image suddenly rippled to show an artificial video of the same property, but instead of the tacky hotel, there stood a modern building adorned with a bright, neon V logo.

Valentino's smile grew at his last sentence, and he turned in his seat, leaning his forehead to rest against Vox's screen. "I like your vision, Cariño," he purred, grinning wickedly to show off his golden tooth. "But, if your little money-making cocksleeve doesn't come back, well, don't say I didn't tell you so~" he said in a sing-song voice, long tongue coming up to lick languidly along the side of Vox's monitor.

Vox's grin froze on his face, screen glitching.

Valentino chuckled, pushing out of his seat before strutting away. "Oh, and Vox baby," he threw a saucy wink over his shoulder. "Come find me when you get lonely, yeah?"

The double doors slammed shut behind him, bathing the room in silence. Which Velvette quickly broke, of course.

"What the fuck, Vox?" She scrubbed a hand down her face. "All this for a profit we can afford to lose? Really?"

"Velvette," his smile twitched up to full, blinding attention again. "Have I ever let you down before? Everything is under control, trust me!"

"Uh huh," Velvette scowled, unconvinced. "You know, Alastor and Y/n are the only people you've ever really lost it for, and you're going to a place where there's both of them."

"What, you don't think I can handle myself?" His smile strained.

Velvette shook her head, standing up from her chair and approaching him. "You know, that PR shit might work on everyone else, but I can see through your bullshit, Vox," she gave him a hard stare. "Just don't fuck everything up, got it? Or I'll make you wish you didn't."

His fists clenched as she walked past him, smile dropping into a scowl as soon as she was out of view.

****

—PRESENT—

"Whatever you do, make sure he's at least ten floors away from me," you muttered to Vaggie, watching as Charlie gave the bane of your existence an awkward tour of the hotel.

The atmosphere was so tense and suffocating, it was starting to make you incredibly antsy. The others were no better. Angel was drumming his fingers anxiously on the bar counter, Niffty was curiously regarding the new "resident" and Husk was already chugging his second bottle of hard liquor. Holy hell, and you couldn't even forget about Alastor if you tried, the radio demon releasing a constant stream of static and looking about ready to sacrifice someone—preferably Vox—in an incredibly painful and sadistic ritual.

"I can't believe she's letting him stay," Angel hissed under his breath, rubbing his temples in exasperation. "Actually no, what am I saying? This is Charlie, of course she'd let him stay. God damnit."

A tap on your shoulder made you turn around, only to find your favorite stiff drink on the counter behind you. You nodded gratefully at Husk, taking the glass and throwing it back like water.

"At least the hotel's in one piece!" Niffty chirped, her one eye back to tracking any stray insects. "Less mess to clean up." Her knife gleamed as she stabbed a cockroach clean in half with a deranged giggle.

"This isn't going to end well," Vaggie scowled darkly. "He's going to try something, I fucking know it."

"Yeah, no shit," Angel groaned, Husk grunting in agreement.

"Or," Pentious chimed in, hair flaring thoughtfully. "He truly does want to redeem himself?"

There was a silence as everyone turned to look at him incredulously, before a unanimous, resounding "no," rang out.

****

"Anddd here's your room key," Charlie presented it to him with a flourish, beaming brightly. "We hope you enjoy your stay! Breakfast, lunch and dinner are served downstairs in the dinning room, or you can go out and get your own food! We'll get your survey ready for you tomorrow so that you can start building your schedule."

"Schedule?" He quirked a brow, taking the room key from her outstretched hand. "For what, exactly?"

"Oh! Um," Charlie laughed, rubbing the back of her neck. "We actually host group therapy activities and trust exercises with the other staff and residents! You'll fill out a short survey so that we can personalize—"

"O-kay, let me stop you there, sweetheart," he chuckled, grin widening condescendingly. "I think it's great what you're doing, really, I do. But I've already got a schedule, and a billion dollar company to run. I'm quite the busy man, you know?"

Charlie furrowed her brow. "But—"

"Seriously, my sales would fall and what would my clients say? Hm?" A crowd booing track played in the background as Vox shook his head like she was just some uneducated child. "So thanks, but no thanks." He shot her a wink, before the door slammed in her face.

Charlie blinked in shock, taking a few seconds to process that she'd been dismissed in her own hotel. Her shoulders slumped as she trudged away.

But that only lasted for a few steps, before she perked right back up. What was she thinking? Giving up so quickly on one of her clients?

Charlie grinned, smacking a fist into her palm. She'd just have to try harder.

Unbeknownst to her, a figure had been watching the entire exchange from the shadows. Your jaw clenched, claws digging into the drywall.

"Unbelievable," you shook your head in disdain.

****

As soon as the door shut, Vox deflated like a balloon.

"Fuckkk," he hissed under his breath, sliding down the door tiredly. "The hell am I doing?"

He allowed himself only a few minutes to wallow in self-pity, before he sighed, pushing off the floor and getting to work. In less than twenty minutes, he had the whole room wired to his needs, electronic Voxtek devices littering the previously empty spaces. Now he had a way to travel without leaving his room.

He was just about to dematerialize into one of his laptops when a familiar, chilling presence made him freeze.

"Why, you only just got here! Don't tell me you're leaving already," Alastor chuckled, tilting his head in mock concern.

The radio demon was leaning an elbow against his dresser, just casually invading his privacy. God, just his smug face made Vox want to kill him already.

"What's it to you, old timer?" Vox sneered, electricity sparking from his claws in agitation. "Unlike you, some of us actually have responsibilities. So if you don't mind—"

"Oh my, breaking your word to Y/n already!" Alastor shook his head with a grin, sound effects of a heckling crowd emanating from his microphone cane. "How very...disappointing. Truly, I'd expect better from you!"

Vox's eye widened, the swirling rings on full display as his teeth grinded in rage. "Y-y-y-you keep her fucking name out of your filthy, cannibalistic mouth! You hear me?" He glitched furiously, electricity sparking in glowing webs from his monitor.

"Aha! Someone's a little on edge," Alastor laughed in tandem with an artificial, mocking laugh track. "Really, that was too easy! You're losing your touch."

"Get the fuck out of my room!" Vox snapped.

"Gladly," the radio demon grinned menacingly, the corners of his mouth stretching to unnatural proportions. "But first, I came to deliver a little message."

Vox gritted his teeth, curling his fists by his sides. His electricity buzzed under his skin, ready to electrocute the fuck out of this crazy fucker if he needed to.

"If you and your merry band of idiots pull even the smallest stunt to sabotage the hotel," Alastor approached him, antlers growing as his eyes turned to radio dials. "I think you'll find out that absence did not make my heart grow fonder."

"What, don't tell me you actually care about this place," Vox grinned, baring his teeth. "The whole redemption thing doesn't really seem to be up your alley, no offense."

"Oh, of course not! Haha! Don't be ridiculous," Alastor chuckled like he'd said something hilarious, but it was overlayed with bursts of radio static. "But I'm afraid I've invested too much in this source of entertainment for you to ruin it with your cheap, unoriginal touch."

The message was clear: don't touch my things.

Vox curled his lip, unwilling to back down no matter how utterly disturbing Alastor's demon form was up close. It gave him chilling flashbacks of their last explosive disagreement. "Then stay away from Y/n," he spat.

Alastor's grin widened, eyes glowing an eerie green as he held out his hand. "Is that a deal?"

Vox grimaced, looking at Alastor's creepy, voodoo doll appearance. "Hell no, you creepy fucker."

Then, like whiplash, Alastor's demon form receded and the air became breathable again. "Well, glad we cleared that up, then!" He laughed exuberantly, twirling his cane. "Nice catching up, chum!"

The demon grinned as he disappeared into shadowy wisps of smoke, melding with the darkness against the walls.

Vox's jaw clenched, electric anger vibrating through him and rattling his teeth. "Fuck!" He kicked over the first thing he saw, which happened to be a wooden workbench. It took a few deep breaths for him to finally calm down and collect his thoughts.

When he was no longer at risk of causing a city-wide outage again (that had been fucking embarrassing), he made his way back to his laptop like he was originally planning to do, only to pause in shock when he saw the brand new device short circuiting, screen full of pixelated static.

An explosive rage convulsed in his chest, the lights in the hotel flickering ominously.

"You red bambi ass fucker!"

****

<���Part 2 Chapter Index Part 4 —>

Taglist: @pooplyface1423 @spookysisters @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @neito327 @hxzbinwrites @coleisyn @bababahannah @yellowsubiesdance @dirk-strides @justaspectatorforfandomarts @harmoira @sunnyslug @gum-iie @lady-valtieri @mit-suri @whatelsecouldgowrong @sillysimplysilky @eternalera @aoiyx @hazellight11 @hopefully-not @tsuvvy @imcryinginemo @dinorawrss @rekoloid @ayesha-eroticax3 @sle3pyh3ad2 @l0verboyxoxo1111

[midnightsunsfan]

Clark Kent x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Attempted robbery, Attempted assault, Fluff

Summary: Superman saves you from a nasty predator, and that’s when you realize Superman was actually your boyfriend all along. No wonder Superman knew you were getting harassed when he could’ve been busy with other things.

You were at work, minding your business. You worked at a diner. It’s actually the place you and your boyfriend, Clark Kent, met.

You will never forget it. You were his waitress, and he was a customer. You remember feeling like you were struck by lightening when you first saw his gorgeous face.

He was with his coworkers, and you’re guessing he saw you as beautiful as you saw him when you’ve met, because ever since then, he would always come after work.

You only worked through weekdays and always saw him at exactly 6:30 or 6:45. It became a daily thing until he finally built up the courage to ask you on an official date.

Ever since then you started dating and after a year, you moved in together. You’ve been dating for two years now.

“Y/n! You can take your break now.” One of your coworkers says as she passed by. You nodded in response and finished up your last table and took a trip outside.

You took out your melody bar and started smoking. You were a big smoker until Clark. He always hated cigarettes, so you decided to quit for him.

Melody bars were a big help. You only smoked one when you were stressed, considering there non-nicotine.

You were scrolling on your phone near a dumpster right outside your work place.

“Hey, pretty lady.”

You looked up from your phone to see a man. He was one of your regulars, but he had left over an hour ago. Was he waiting for you?

“Oh, hello. Back again?” You asked, trying to be as polite as you could.

“Only for you. Say, why don’t you come back with me to my place once your off your shift?” He smiled. His teeth were a disgusting color.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Uhm, no. I’m engaged.” You smoke firmly, putting your phone to the side of your hip.

He chuckled. “I don’t see no ring.” He smirked. He caught you through your lie.

You glanced down at your hand, then looked back up at the man. “Yeah, no, I don’t wear my ring to work. Afraid I might lose it.” You spoke.

He stepped closer. Way too close for you to be comfortable with. “Don’t lie.”

His tone was nasty. You realized you were in danger and turned around to head back inside.

He grabbed you by the wrist once you reached for the door.

“Get off of me!” You shouted, trying to loosen his grip. He pulled out a pocket knife, waving it in your face.

You froze. “Enough moving or I’ll slice you, bitch.”

“Hey. Didn’t the pretty lady tell you to back off?”

You turned to look behind the man, and so did he. It was Superman.

The man’s eyes went wide and he dropped the knife. “Hey, hey. I wasn’t looking for no trouble.”

“Then scram.” Superman spoke in a deep, intimating voice. The man scrambled to pick up his knife, but Superman laser beamed it far away from his reach.

“Now.” He spoke again. The man finally ran off, and you watched as he did.

“Are you alright?” You turned back to Superman. “Y-Yes. Thank you. Is there anything I can do to repay you?” You asked softly, picking up your phone you dropped away ago.

Superman just smiled at you. “No. I’m just glad you’re alright.”

You stared at him and furrowed your eyebrows. Why did that sound so familiar? Reality struck you.

“Ow!” You winced, looking at your bleeding finger. “Woah, are you okay?” Clark asked, taking your bleeding finger into his large hand.

You chuckled. “Of course baby.” You said softly.

Clark scurried around for a napkin and wrapped it around your finger. “I’ll cut the veggies tonight.” He spoke with concentration on your finger.

You smiled. “There’s no need to do that, my love.” He looked up at you with his beautiful blue eyes and smiled. “It’s no problem,

I’m just glad you’re alright.”

You stared at Superman, your eyes going wide. He tilted his head at you. You just softly smiled.

“I-I have to get going now.” He spoke, starting to fly into the air, but not far enough where he couldn’t hear you.

You smiled wider. “Alright. I’ll see you back at home, my love.”

Superman’s face dropped and he stared at you, his mouth opening a bit. He blinked before closing his mouth and flying off.

[zombieplaygrounds]

cw: fluff with simon riley, cigarettes, reader smoking, bad tasting kissy.

"Wann' see your face.." the air was humid; sticky. There was no use being on the bed, where the mattress creaked and the sheets got filthy. No - the floor would suffice. It's cold tile pressing against your knees and legs, parting slightly to allow the meaty thigh of Simon to take place. The scene sounded more intimate than what it really was. Truthfully the two of you (mostly him) really craved a midnight cigarette without the bitching of your captain. You were wrapped up in your cotton jammies, a big shirt and shorts that hung off you. Simon coughed softly, puffs of smoke leaving his mouth a bit. So he was surprised. He tilted his head backward and exhaled. The moment went on in silence, just like that, until your greedy paws reached out for another grab at the smoldering stick "Can smoke just fine through the mask."

"Yeah, but I can't see you 'just fine' through the mask." You hissed softly through an inhale, letting the smoke leave before coughing a bit, it tasted quite shit. You always wondered why he liked that junk. Simon chuckled, snatching the cigarette back and holding it away from you. "If, you can't handle it, stop doing it." You rolled your eyes at his words, plopping backward toward the pillows that were sprawled on the floor. Your eyes fluttering shut and watching the stars through the window. Simon sat up, blowing the smoke outward through the smallest creeping crack. It was like a stop motion film, each shut of your eyes showed him slowly lifting the mask, just past the tip of his nose.

"Oh.." You mused, moving to sit up, but he quickly sent you back down with his socked foot to your shoulder. "Oh ew." Simon laughed softly, you could see his teeth now. His stubbly chin. Dirty blonde. And his lips were scarred, chapped too. "I can feel yer eyes on me, judgin'"

"M'not judgin'.. Just curious. I've never see you before, and I've seen the others..." Trailing off a bit you let your head tilt backward again, facing the ceiling. Simon was quiet, aside from his little huffs and sighs. "So..why do you hide your face, anyways?" Simon growled a bit, not intentionally, just a noise that emitted when he though too deeply. "Just the way things are. Like..grass is green, sky is blue."

"Bullshit, the grass here is brown." The two of you giggled at your words, only going silent when you heard foot steps walking down the hall. Simon quickly put out the cigarette, a towel at the bottom of the door, preventing any of the smoke scent seeping through. After a few moments the feet move passed, letting the two of you release a breath.

"Mm, I dunno why we worried so much. Cap'n can't smell shit." You giggled again. Simon rewarded you with a doting flick to your forehead. You hissed softly at him but he shushed you with a kiss. His body moving to lie next to you, only slightly hovering. He tasted bad - like cigarette, and a bit of mint. You softly gasped in realization, hitting his shoulder, "So you did eat my mints?"

Simon laughed again, tugging his mask down while you lightly sparred his arm for revenge.

[bueckers-sturniolo]

you are in love. (part 2 to the alchemy)

paige bueckers x fem!reader

read part 1 here!

word count: 1,234!

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol, drunk!paige, smooching. ALSO, if u listen to the song and read, i skipped around and used different lyrics to make this flow easier and more understandable.

authors note: HI GUYS! i wrote the alchemy 10-ish days ago now, and you guys have shown me so much love and support. i cannot express how happy i am that you guys enjoy my writing :) i hope you guys love, love, love this. i love love love you. part 3 coming soon, hopefully :)

p.s. all of the words highlighted in blue are references back to you are in love. enjoy :)

one look, dark room. meant just for you. time moved too fast, you play it back. buttons on a coat, lighthearted joke. no proof, not much. but, you saw enough. small talk, he drives. coffee at midnight. the light reflects, the chain on your neck. he says,’look up,’ and your shoulders brush. no proof, one touch, but you felt enough.

the night after the game was a blur. well, partly. the team was now at a restaurant-bar type thing. some of you were drinking, some of you aren’t. paige was, which, everytime the team went out, she did. but, this time is… different.

shes always a little touchy-feely when drunk, but, she’s taking it to a whole new level tonight. right now, you’re talking to kk, sitting down, and she’s somewhere taking shots with azzi. you’ve been keeping an eye on her all night, but…. she tends to wander.

you’re currently drinking an espresso martini, even though it was close to midnight and it probably wasn’t the best idea to drink coffee at midnight. but, who cares? it’s fun.

“im surprised paige isn’t attached to your hip, right now.” kk says, snapping you out of your daze with a light-hearted joke.

you chuckle, shaking your head. your gaze meets paige again. she finally locks eyes with you, and smiles lopsidedly.

“holy shit, she’s hammered.” you whisper to kk, and kk laughs, “yeah, she normally gets a little tipsy after a win.” you nod at that, then signal for paige to walk over to you guys.

she makes her way over to you guys, immediately walking up behind you and resting her chin on your shoulder.

“hey, hiccup, killer. what’s up?” paige says, slurring her words. you can smell the alcohol. maybe it’s from the close proximity, maybe she’s just chugging alcohol like it’s spring break. you have no clue, but regardless, it kinda makes your stomach turn. it’s not a great smell.

“just checkin’ on you,” you mumble, turning your face to look at her. she looks at you from the corner of her eyes, smiling slightly. “how much have you had to drink?”

“a few, not a lot…” she says, still smiling. you chuckle, looking back at kk with a ‘are you hearing this bitch lie straight through her teeth?’ look, and kk just smiles.

paige’s hand made its way around your body, then brings it up to your collarbones, fiddling with the necklace around your neck. she hums as she looks at it.

“it’s sparkly.” paige says, her drunk mind being weirdly fascinated with the way the light reflects the chain on your neck. you smile at that, finding it absolutely fucking adorable how interesting she finds this necklace, even though you wear it all the time.

one step, not much. but, it said enough. you kiss on sidewalks,

by the time paige is ready to leave, it’s 1:46 am. the rest of the team had left already, getting bored of waiting for paige to hurry up. but, you felt obligated to stay. so, you call an uber, then you guys stand outside on the sidewalk. it’s december, and it’s extremely cold outside. you and paige stand huddled up to each other, shivering. your teeth started chattering together, and paige couldn’t bare it anymore.

that’s when paige wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you into her. it wasn’t really for her sake, at all. it was for yours.

you rest your head into the crook of her neck, pushing your hands inbetween your bodies to seek some sort of warmth. you guys stand like this in silence for a few minutes. then, her drunk temptations started to get the best of her. she gently nudges your face with her shoulder, signaling for you to lift it up.

as you do, she looks at you for a few seconds. you were extremely confused as to why she would take away your sense of heat, and then she kisses you. she kisses you.

what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck, is your only thought. after a few moments of shock, you decide to kiss back, bringing your hands up to her face. it feels wrong, you feel guilty. she’s so drunk she probably doesn’t even know what she’s doing.

but, drunk actions are sober thoughts. so, fuck it, you think.

as the uber rolls up beside you guys, she breaks the kiss. she then just lets go of you and walks off like it didn’t fucking happen. what. the. fuck. is still your only thought.

you fight, then you talk.

the next morning, you decide to ask her about it. bad choice, but hell, why not?

“so… you just…” you stay silent for a few seconds, “don’t remember kissing me? at all?” you say, getting frustrated. you had no real reason as to getting angry over this, but, you wanted her to remember it. you wanted her to have meant it.

“no, i do not fuckin’ remember it, why is it even such a big deal? friends kiss all the time as a joke.” paige says, shrugging. she’s sitting across from you on your couch right now, and she’s sitting as far as she can. why the fuck is she doing this?

“paige, i just-“ you cut yourself off, running your hands over your face. how do you defend the fact that you’re angry about your best friend not remembering kissing you while drunk? it’s not even that big of a deal, really.

“look, im sorry i did it. im sorry i dont remember. it was a mistake, y/n.” she says, sighing. okay, fuck you too, then, you think. you didn’t really want to talk about it anymore, honestly. her saying it was a mistake was something that was so hurtful that it kinda made you have that feeling in your stomach when it feels like your heart has actually dropped down onto it. (does that even make sense? let me know)

now or never, now or never, now or never, you repeat in your head.

you take a deep breath, opening your mouth. then, you close it again. paige is staring dead at you. she’s always been good at just making eye contact with anyone and everyone, it made you kinda nervous. you weren’t bad or uneasy with eye contact normally, but with her… it was different.

“what if i wanted you to mean it, paige?” you say, looking her dead in the eyes.

she stares. all that she can is fucking stare at you. “what?” she mumbled out, quietly. “what do you mean, ‘what?’ its pretty damn clear. what if i wanted you to mean it when you kissed me? i know you were drunk, i understand that. but, what if i have been praying since it happened that you intended for that to happen and the only way you could push yourself to finally do it was when you were drunk off your ass?” you begin rambling out of frustration of her not responding with what you want her to.

you want her to admit that she wanted to kiss you. you wanted her to admit that every time she saw you, it took every fiber and atom in her body to hold back from kissing you. but, she didn’t. she stares at you in shock, eyes wide. in disbelief, even.

“what?”

a/n: sorry for the cliffhanger. anyway, part 3? 😁

[lowkeyremi]

WHAT YOU NEED S. Geto x fem!reader

"And I'm gon' give you girl, what you fiend, I'm the drug in your veins, just fight through the pain, He's what you want, he's what you want, I'm what you need, what you need, what you need"

➥ In which Geto entertains you when the guy you want doesn't

content: reader is indecisive, geto kinda takes advantage of that??? slightly toxic (look at me stepping out of my fluff comfort zone) slightly suggestive, a little bit of angst

A scream crawls its way up your throat and you throw your phone across the room, no regard for the aftermath of that action. You've been casually flirting with this guy for months and every once in a while he gives you the cold shoulder, ignoring your calls and everything. You know he is because he'll read your messages and not respond.

He called you an "obsessive bitch" the last time this ordeal happened because you had managed to call him 237 times and leave him 400+ texts in the span of a week. He later apologized for calling you that and you forgave him because of your desperation to get with him.

This whole thing has happened four times, and you'll admit those weren't your brightest times. Your friends have told you to stop talking to him because this obsession isn't healthy and if you two did have a real falling out who knows what you'd do.

UnLuckily for you, your favorite distraction was driving around with Gojo and happened to be near your complex. Geto. He of all people has tried to convince you that you don't need this man, and he's proven time and time again that he's the better option (as fucked up as he is) but you won't give up on this guy until he gives you a verbal rejection.

Knock, knock, knock. You know who it is, so you don't bother to open the door. He has a key and depending on how long he's been standing there he might have heard your little tantrum.

After a minute you hear the lock click slowly, giving you a chance to run toward your bedroom and lock the door. You don't want to see him. He's so addictive and bad for you and you deserve a normal man, you suppose. The problem is you're far from normal so of course Geto is the only one who will truly understand you. He's what you need after all.

Those three soft knocks at your door make you tense up slightly as you hide under your covers with your eyes closed imagining what it would be like if you and that normal guy started to date.

"Open up princess. Seems like you're still chasing after that fucking idiot." His voice is like honey and you almost do go open the door for him and invite him into your heart like you always do.

"Go away, Geto. I don't want you here- I don't need you here." Your voice is so small and you hate it. You know for a fact he isn't convinced.

"Geto? What happened to Suguru or Sugu?" He asks softly, you can almost picture it. He's leaning against your door with a smirk on his face.

"I.... I don't. I don't-"

"You don't what? Need me? Who are you trying to fool? Open the door so I can make it all better." His voice lowers a few octaves on that last part and you jump from your bed to open the door. You're greeted by Suguru who's gazing at you lustfully, but you know behind that lust is worry and care.

"There she is, my beautiful little mess. Did you miss me?" He's been out of town for two weeks (you counted the days). Of course the first person he'd visit when coming back was you.

"No. I was doing fine without you." You lie through your teeth. He knows you're lying too. You've never been good at hiding from him.

"I missed you too. I was hoping you'd come to your senses though, and leave that poor man alone. He can't handle you, baby." Suguru holds his arms out for you and you run to them hugging him tightly.

He hears your soft sobs and he knows he's twisted for smiling but he loves it when you cry. "I want him Sugu, I want him so bad." You whine into his chest and he feels your salty tears stain his shirt.

"I know you do, baby, but he doesn't want you. I'm what you need." He reminds you and you cry into his shirt for a good couple of minutes.

When you do come to yourself again, your teary eyes meet his and he smiles at you warmly. You give him a weak smile in return and he has to admit that it made his heart swell a little bit.

"What do you want to do, sweetheart?" He's rubbing your back up and down slowly. The other hand is planted on your ass, giving it a little squeeze.

You keep eye contact with him as you fumble with his belt buckle, "Such a good girl." His look is almost predatory when he sees you drop to your knees.

(one day i'll come back and write smut for this :P)

----------

You're cuddled up against his bare chest. He's so warm and inviting, you hate it. Well, you only partially hate it. You hate the fact that you don't hate it enough.

"Feeling better?" He already knows the answer but he wants to hear you say it. Suguru always wants a verbal response from you.

"Mhm." That's all he's going to get out of you. You're mad that you sucked him off and fucked him. It hurts to know you'll never be in a normal relationship. You love him and you hate him all the same.

"Will you let me keep taking care of you? I want to put a label on what we have." He sounds so sincere and sweet, but you see right through him. He wants you to be his, so he doesn't have to share you with anyone. As endearing as that sounds it also sounds suffocating.

Suguru is already a very demanded presence in your life. There is fear planted in your brain and you wonder what will happen if you come to like that with time. More than you already do.

"You want to be my boyfriend?" Buying time was crucial, you still needed a minute or two to process this. It's not the first time he's asked you this question. Any other time you would have replied without effort but now you wonder what it would be like to have him in your life as a romantic partner.

"Precisely."

He's watching you like a hawk. The way you bite your lip in thought, the way you don't meet his gaze, the way you shift in his arms, he notices it all.

"Okay, be my boyfriend. Give me what that other guy couldn't." A pleased smile makes its way to his face as he hugs you close.

"Best decision you've ever made." He smirks and you look away. Instead of hate you feel butterflies.

He's yours. You're his. This might be the start of something new and beautiful. But who truly knows?

I wrote this for a little challenge hosted by @halosdiary where you write abt jjk men but base it off a song by the weeknd. I was going to do "shameless" but i read my rough draft and hated it so i switched up and decided to do "what you need"! Hope you guys enjoy this little project!!

[mediumgayitalian]

If there’s one thing Will is, it’s committed to the bit.

Is there, perhaps, a touch of regret in his heart as he shivers, freezing, clad in nothing but his t-shirt and cargo shorts? Had he been told, before he left his cabin, by his long-suffering siblings that he was going to regret not wearing a sweater? Was the none-too-gentle reminder sixty-four percent of the reason he’d stubbornly refused the sweater he’d originally been planning on wearing in the first place?

Yes, yes, and no, surprisingly; take that, predictability allegations. He’s spontaneous as shit.

(Eight-three percent.)

(Whatever.)

He walks under a shadowy tree, briefly enveloping him in a deeper cold. He tries and fails to hold back a shudder.

“You’re cold,” says a critical voice to his left.

“I’ve never experienced even a mild case of hypothyroidism-borne boreal temperature intolerance even one time in my life, di Angelo, so check and mate.”

Unfortunately, the second half of his sentence is garbled by both his chattering teeth and his throat beginning to close. Curse you, Apollonian inability to lie. Will has people to gaslight, and a reputation to protect.

“You’re an idiot.”

Will wheezes. After three or four attempts, and the threat from his brain to his lungs that he will self-tracheotomize, really, he will, just try and fuck around cause you will sure as shit find out, bitch, he manages to clear his airways enough to employ his vocal chords (which, actually, are inaptly named. They are not chords, they are membranophones. Obviously).

“Nuh uh.”

“You really are an idiot. A frozen one.” Nico huffs. There is the sound of rustling, and for a moment Will is blindingly jealous of his friend’s night vision. He wants to snoop around in the dark to identify rustling sounds. How come he only glows when he’s embarrassed? He gets the stupidest Apollo powers. “Take my coat.”

Before Will can do much as protest, a heavy, undoubtedly warm jacket is shoved in his pockets.

“If you don’t wear it I’ll shadow travel to Slovakia,” Nico threatens. “And it’s winter for them right now, too, so I’ll pop out and immediately succumb to the elements.”

Will’s turn to be huffy, he slides the stupid jacket onto his arms. Immediately, he’s filled with a warmth so potent he feels as if he can almost fix his many mental problems. It’s glorious.

“Jacket smells like you, stink-face,” he says instead. He buries his nose in the collar and takes a deep inhale, closing his eyes as he savours the smell of woodsmoke, leather, and, amusingly, a little bit of oregano.

“Remind me to stab you tomorrow morning. It’s been too long.”

“It’s been three days,” Will argues, but dutifully makes a mental note.

Nico seems pleased.

They finally break through the woods’ borders, stepping into the torchlight of camp, late evening. Will spots three couples sucking face behind their cabin. He then spies thrice as many Hermes kids up to nefarious deeds, such as attaching timed fireworks to windows and doorways for a fun morning surprise. Will makes a mental note, under the stabbing reminder, to prepare burn salve tomorrow morning. And to hide Cecil in his office for his own protection, because he’s a good friend like that.

“Thank you for getting herbs with me,” Will says, turning to Nico. He smiles, trying to pour as much gratitude into his voice as he can. “I hate going alone.”

“Yeah,” says Nico, stiffly. He looks everywhere but Will’s face. When Will does not look away, he glances over, scowling at Will’s broadening grin. “Whatever, Solace. Don’t be so needy, next time.”

Tactfully, Will refrains from mentioning that he had not asked for Nico’s accompaniment at all, actually, and was halfway to the forest with a list of ingredients when Nico had shown up, red-faced, and snatched Will’s list clean out of his hands and muttered something about incompetence and monster baiting fools.

“I still appreciate it,” he says diplomatically, and then, because he is an asshole and also struggles with impulse control, he leans down and pecks Nico’s forehead. “Smooch of gratitude,” he explains when Nico freezes, facial expression resembling that of a squished pear.

“Ha nngh mfgh,” Nico says after a moment. Or perhaps he said hangry muffins, Will’s not sure, sometimes his hearing aids go wonky.

“Indeed,” he says anyway. He leans down to smooch Nico’s forehead again, because it was nice, and because he didn’t get stabbed the first time. “See you in the morning, Neeks. Love you bunches and bunches.”

“Hngh daga,” Nico responds, and when Will pouts he clears his throat and rectifies, “I love you…too?”

Will nods, satisfied. “Yes, exactly. Goodnight.”

He jogs off, waving. It isn’t until he gets back to his cabin and is immediately accosted by his siblings that he realises that he has stolen Nico’s jacket.

“Hm.” He glances down at it. It really is a wonderful jacket. And, plus, Nico didn’t give him a return date, or anything, so it’s probably fine if he keeps it a little longer.

He doesn’t want to get cold, after all.

[blossom-works]

Mommy and Daddy Bear

"Chris! Claire!" Leon calls out to his friends. They are locked inside two Alcatraz jail cells. The Redfield siblings are pale, gritting their teeth from whatever is hurting them. The DSO agent tries to force the cells open, but they are locked shut.

"Look behind you, Leon." Claires points. Her arm is shaking, but she is determined to make her friend look behind him. Following her finger, Leon spots someone else in the cell behind him. The entire room is dark, so he turns on his flashlight.

"Babe!" Leon drops his flashlight and crawls to your cell. Like the Redflields, you are gritting your teeth in pain. Your skin is pale too. Leon reaches inside the cell to cup your cheek. Through his gloves, Leon can feel your rising temperature.

"What are you doing here? What happened? Where are the kids?"

Drowsy, you try your best to answer him. "They...They're with Helena. Some woman tried to ambush us but I managed to hold her off." Your wheezing worries Leon even more. There are two times Leon has seen you in a similar state. Both were when you gave birth to his children.

"Help! Get us out of here!"

Leon turns around and in Claire's cell is Leon's target.

"Antonia Taylor...I'll deal with your ass later." Screw his mission. His wife is more important than bringing in some rouge scientist. He needs to get his wife home to their kids.

Leon rubs your warm cheek as an act of comfort. "I'm gonna get you out of here, sweetheart. Don't worry."

Suddenly, the lights flicker on. Jill and Leon pull out their guns and point them in opposite directions. The man in charge, Dylan Blake, introduces himself and his insane plan to the entire group. One of his bio-drones stings Leon in the back of his neck, weakening the man. From your line of view, you see the same woman who tried to take your children jump down from the floor above.

"You bitch." You groan out. You wish you had your gun on you so you could shoot the woman between her eyes. The woman disarms your weakened husband and kicks him to your cell. Reaching your hand out, you squeeze Leon's shoulder.

"I get it now. The attack. The virus. You got them from Arias. That's why she's here." Leon wheezes out. The virus is coursing through his veins, slowly shutting his body down.

"Leon," You exhale. "That's her. That the bitch that tried to take the kids."

Dylan's voice echoes the large, empty room. "You killed poor Maria's father. It was only fair for her to take away your family, Leon. Unfortunately, we underestimated your wife's condition. Even at three months post-partum, she was able to put up a fight. Left a bruise or two on Maria. I've got to say my friend, you have yourself quite a catch."

"Screw you, you bastard!"

"My kids and wife are innocent! You had no right to go after them!"

Dylan goes on a tangent about how everything the BOW fighters have fought for was a lie. They are nothing but pawns for powerful people to use. Dylan nit-picks at each of them, even you.

"And poor Mrs. Kennedy...I feel bad for you the most. You married a man who is tied down to his endless, grueling job. He even got your family mixed into his mess. What kind of a man does that to his family?"

You defend your husband through your gritted teeth. "Leon didn't do shit to our family. You're the one who endangered our family, asshole! My husband does everything he can to protect us so kindly fuck off!"

Leon has always questioned his ability to protect his family. He is constantly gone throughout the year and for an unknown amount of time. Your husband tries his best to be there for his kids and for you, but work gets in the way. He even worries about being present in their early lives. Leon does not want to miss out on their important firsts. He never wants to end up as the dad who misses out on his kids' school events, games, and recitals. Dylan is good at hitting a man in his Achilles heel.

Maria grabs onto Jill's hand, making her drop her gun from the pressure she applies. To protect their only chance at survival, Leon pulls out a flash grenade and tosses it in the middle of the hallway. When the flash clears, Maria steps onto Leon's chest. The more pressure she uses, the more her heeled boots dig into his skin.

"Leave them, Maria. They're all about to turn anyway."

Reluctantly, the woman obeys. She haughtily looks down at you who is glaring at her. Cursing the woman for going after your family. Silently proclaiming your revenge.

All week and terrified, Leon does his best to distract you from the pain. "How are the kids?"

"They should be fine. Helena was with me when Maria decided to drop by. She took the kids while I stalled Maria." You grip your side in pain. "Man that bitch packs a mean kick."

"She," Leon groans. "She knew where we lived?" You nod. It astonishes you too. Everything about your family is classified thanks to DSO's protocol. Information about their agents and their families is pretty much untouchable with the exception of a few.

Being the angel she is, Rebecca shows up with her vaccines. "Thank goodness I made an extra." She tries to give Leon the vaccine first, but he rejects it. No way is he going to get better while his wife is still sick. When everyone is vaccinated, you all know the battle is almost over.

Picking up Jill's gun, you turn around to face your husband. "Let's go get that bitch."

---

The fight between you, Leon, and Maria is an exhausting one. It takes the two of you a while before your full strength is back. Something must have been injected into Maria because she is what you describe as a "super soldier". Maria is a good fighter, but she fucked with your family. She broke into your home. She tried to go after your precious kids and use them as leverage. The woman fucked with the wrong set of parents. And she put her nasty ass foot on your husband's face! So not cool!

When Leon regains his strength, he double-kicks Maria. His last kick is about to send Maria to her death, but you want to be the one to do it. You take the disheveled Maria and shove her from behind with your foot while bending her body down to a certain level of height. The metal rod sticking out, pierces through Maria's head, killing her instantly. You and Leon have peace of mind knowing that the woman after your family is dead.

Leon drags you away from Maria's body and brings you into his chest. Your hug only lasts a couple of seconds because the control room starts to shake.

"We are so going on vacation after this." You say.

Leon laughs and nods his head in agreement. You guys are definitely booking a trip when you get home. He hopes that Eri will not remember whatever happened in your home. Levi is only a few months old but his sister is two. Leon does not want Maria to be one of Eri's earliest memories. Leon can only hope that your maternal instincts protected Eri from early childhood trauma.

---

The fight on Alcatraz Island is over. The six of you sit outside as you wait for backup to arrive.

"Well...I know what I'm taking away from this."

"What's that?" Rebecca asks.

"Prison tours suck." Leon's dorky remark makes everyone laugh. You lightly shove him to the side before he swings his arm around your shoulder. "So, where we goin' for vacation, love?"

"You were serious about that?" Chris asks. Leon announced that he and his family were going on vacation after this mission, but the BSAA operative thought Leon just said that in the heat of the moment.

You hum. "France? I've always wanted to see the Palace of Versailles and I'm sure Eri would love to go to the Disneyland there."

Claire raises her hand like a kid. "OOO! I wanna go too!" As much as she travels because of one thing or another, it is never where she wants to go and do what she wants to do (besides survive of course).

"France sounds good. Jill? Rebecca?"

Jill shrugs her shoulders and Rebecca says that she could use a vacation after this week.

"Wait a damn minute, It's a family vacation. Kennedy only." You slap your husband's arm for being rude to your friends.

"C'mon babe, these guys are practically family. Besides, free babysitters."

Hearing "free babysitters" immediately changes Leon's mind. He loves his children, but having the chance to have their mother to himself is just too good to pass up. Eri is an easy kid to watch, she just needs to work on her potty-training skills. Levi is formula fed so he does not need to be on your boobs every two or three hours. This means that mommy and daddy can have some uninterrupted "mommy and daddy" time.

"Alright, fine but you guys are paying for yourselves."

---

Story inspired by "Family Matters" by @not-another-leon-blog

[tortillamastersblog]

♕ No Matter What - Part 6 | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: none

Summary: It seems as though you’re not the only one who’d like to leave the past in the past.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

________________________________________________

“Here you go, Jess,” I say, setting a cup on her table.

She looks up with a rare smile and takes it. “Thank you, Y/N.”

I nod in acknowledgment and take a sip of my own coffee. “So, what’s the boss up to?” I ask.

Jess checks her laptop. “Uh… I’m not so sure. She doesn’t have a meeting until 3, so I don’t know what she’s doing right now. I heard her on the phone while you were on your coffee run though.”

“So you think I can go in?” I gesture in the direction of Lena’s door.

Jess shrugs.

I take that as a yes and knock on the shiny white door before entering after a beat of silence.

“Ms. Luthor?” I frown. She’s not at her desk or on her couch. I step further into the office and look around the corner but she’s not at her bar either. “Ms. Lu—“

My words die in my throat when I see her hunched over on the balcony outside, her back turned to me. I quickly set my cup on her desk and go outside.

“Ms. Luthor?” I ask tentatively, a cool breeze hitting my face.

She stiffens for a second before turning around and that’s when I see it. The running mascara, her bloodshot eyes, and the dejected look on her face.

My stomach drops and I take a step forward. “What’s wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Lena just shakes her head, biting her lip to prevent a sob from escaping.

I take another step forward and tentatively reach for her. “What is it? Talk to me.”

Lena’s chin wobbles and more tears spring to her eyes, making my concern grow. She parts her lips to say something, but only a whimper escapes.

She rushes forward in the blink of an eye and throws her arms around my shoulders, burying her face in the crook of my neck.

Stunned, I hesitated to return the embrace, but then her body shakes with a sob and I can’t help but pull her closer.

“Hey, hey, hey…” I whisper against her temple. “It’s going to be alright. Whatever it is, it’ll be fine. I’m here. I’m right here.”

Lena claws at my clothes and breathes shakily. Her tears seep into the collar of my shirt, but I don’t mind. I just hold her close and let her feel what she’s feeling.

“My brother…” she whispers against my skin, her voice breaking with emotion. “He–“ I hold my breath in anticipation–“He escaped from prison.”

Well, shit.

“How?” I ask, trying to wrap my head around this new information.

Lena shrugs and lets out a strangled breath. “I don’t know, but he just called and– “ anther sob shakes her body and her grip on me tightens– “he said see you soon, sis before hanging up.”

An unmeasurable amount of anger floods through me and I grind my teeth to stop myself from storming off and dealing with that bald, good-for-nothing son of a bitch myself. Lena’s been through enough and now, thinking she was finally free of him, he comes crashing back into her life to do God knows what.

“I’m scared, Y/N,” Lena whimpers against my neck and it stokes my anger even more.

She’s one of the most amazing people I know. She’s smart, funny, and kind, and she doesn’t deserve all this shit life is giving her.

“Ms. Luthor.” I pause. The last thing she needs right now is a reminder that she’s a Luthor. So, I try something I haven’t done before. “Lena,” I say hesitantly, running my hands over her back.

Her breath hitches but nothing else happens, so I continue. “Lena, listen to me. I swear that as long as I’m around, your brother will not get anywhere near you. You hear me? I won’t let that happen. As long as I’m around, you’re safe. I promise. ”

Lena pulls back to meet my eyes while her arms stay wrapped around my shoulders. “You promise?” She sniffles and searches my face for any trace of a lie.

“No matter what,” I say, surprising myself in the process. I’ve never said that to anyone except Sam and maybe Ruby once or twice.

Lena’s green eyes flicker back and forth between mine before dropping to my lips for a split second. It’s so quick, I almost think I imagined it, but then she does it again.

My stomach flips at the action and I can’t help but mirror it. Lena seems to notice because curiosity and some hesitation flits across her face. Her eyebrows furrow ever so slightly, but in the end she doesn’t act on her impulse.

Instead she exhales and closes her eyes, letting her forehead rest against my collarbone. “Thank you…”

I rub her back again and only pull back when she loosens her grip on me. She smiles sadly and I mirror it, using my thumb to wipe away the rest of her tears.

“Okay?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

She nods and runs her hands over her blouse to smooth it down. “Okay.”

After Lena’s breakdown I stayed in her office with her while she worked. Not only to keep her company but also to keep an eye on her and make sure she’s fine.

Sam stopped by a couple of times to ask Lena something about a business deal and gave me a knowing look every time she left.

Now I’m just getting out of the shower after a late night gym session. The whole time I was there, going to town on the punching bag, I pictured Lex’s face in front of me. That smug, ghoulish, punch able face. I will keep my promise to Lena. He will not touch even a single hair on her head.

I dry myself off and put on some sweatpants and a hoodie, going to the kitchen to make myself a protein shake. It’s the middle of the night and I already had dinner, but after the workout I just put myself through I’m starving.

I drink it in a couple of big gulps and place the empty bottle in the dishwasher before going to bed. I know I won’t be getting much sleep because my mind is working overtime right now, but I have to at least try to get some shut eye.

I turn off all the lights and shut the open window, slipping under the covers of my bed with a sigh.

How did Lex manage to escape from prison? I thought something like that was only possible in books or movies. Well, looks like I thought wrong.

I go over the extra security measures we put in place for Lena, ranging from several more cameras around her buildings to extra guards stationed outside her apartment building.

The chances of anyone getting past all of that are basically zero. But then again, the chances of escaping from prison nowadays are also basically zero and Lex Luthor has managed to do exactly that.

I toss and turn as sleep continues to elude me, until my phone lights up on the nightstand. I sit up and grab it, not knowing what to expect.

It’s Lena.

My eyes widen and I quickly accept the call.

Did something happen? Is she hurt? Is it Lex? Did he manage to get to her?

“Lena, are you alright?” I blurt out, foregoing any pleasantries.

“I— Yeah, I’m alright…” The reply is quiet and soft. I exhale, relieved, and sit up so I can lean back against the headboard.

“Then what is it?” I ask gently.

There’s a pause at the other end of the line and I take my phone away from my ear to make sure the call hasn’t disconnected.

“I can’t sleep,” Lena admits with a sniffle. “And I’m scared, Y/N. I’m so scared.”

The thought of her being alone in her dark apartment, scared and crying has me getting out of bed immediately. I turn on the light and put Lena on speaker while I grab an empty duffel bag from under the bed.

“I know, I know. Just hang on. ” I shove a change of clothes and some toiletries into the bag. “I’m on my way.”

“W-What? No, you don’t have to do that, Y/N.” Lena tries to reason, but I’m not having it.

I shake my head even though she can’t see me and zip up the bag. I sling it over my shoulder and slip on my shoes by the door, leaving the apartment to hail down a cab outside “Nonsense. I told you I’d be there whenever you need me.”

“I…Okay.” Lena gives in with another sniffle. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” I say. “Now, do you want to stay on the phone with me, or is it okay if I hang up?”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Lena denies and I assure her once more that I’ll be there in no time before hanging up to tell the cab driver where to go.

When I get to the apartment building the security guard by the door nods in acknowledgment and lets me inside without a word.

I ride the elevator up to the top floor and get out, using my keycard to open the door to the familiar apartment.

“Lena?” I call out into the dark. “Where are you?”

A lamp turns on to my right and if it weren’t for my concern I’d have been startled.

Lena’s sitting on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her face is makeup-free and she’s wearing a matching set of blue striped pajamas.

“Hey,” I say softly, taking off my shoes before crossing the room.

Lena’s vulnerable and bloodshot eyes meet mine and she mumbles a tired, “Hi.”

My insides melt and I stop in front of the couch with open arms. Lena gets up immediately and sinks into my embrace. I sigh and rest my chin on the top of her head.

“Thank you for coming,” she says again my chest.

I squeeze her in my arms and guide the two of us to sit down on the couch without breaking the hug. “Always. Now, how about we watch a movie?” I ask.

Lena wiggles around and shifts her blanket so it’s covering both our legs before settling back into my side. “Yes, please. Can we watch Titanic?”

I chuckle and grab the remote, turning on the TV to find the movie. “Sure.”

Once I’ve found it and hit play, I settle back into the couch and start drawing shapes onto Lena’s back. She seems to like it because she lets out a content sigh and rests her head on my shoulder.

We watch the movie in silence for quite some time before I look down to see how Lena’s doing. That’s when I notice that her eyes are closed and her breathing has shallowed. She’s asleep.

A small smile makes its way onto my face and I turn down the TV’s volume to make sure she doesn’t wake up. Then, my mind finally at peace now that Lena is okay, I close my own eyes and let sleep overcome me.

The sound of my phone buzzing wakes me up. I blink repeatedly and go to sit up to take it from the coffee table but then I remember where I am and who’s soundly asleep on my chest.

Her dark hair is everywhere, some stands of it are even on my face which I gently brush away as I stretch to get my phone without getting up.

Harper.

I freeze. We haven’t spoken since my dad kicked me out.

What could she possibly want now? Blame me some more for her fiancé’s death? My baby brother’s death?

I send the call to voicemail and put my phone back down with a growing lump in the back of my throat.

Stop, this is not the time to cry.

I take a shuddering breath and squeeze my eyes shut. My hand instinctively reaches up to stroke Lena’s back and I do my best to push my emotions down.

It doesn’t work as well as I hoped it would though because a few moments later, Lena stirs. She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes, adjusting to the brightness for a moment. Then, in no hurry to get away from me, she places her hand on my chest and lifts her head.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asks quietly when she notices my watery eyes and my shaky breathing.

I quickly use the hand that’s not on her back to wipe at my eyes. I clear my throat and smile as best as I can as I lie and say, “Nothing, sorry. Just a bad dream.”

Lena furrows her eyebrows, obviously not believing what I just said. Her eyes dart between mine as if she’s trying to find an honest explanation in them, but it seems she comes up short because she sighs and averts her gaze.

She sits up, much to my dismay, and runs her hand through her. “What time is it? We have to be at the office at ten. I have an interview schedule with Kara about my brother’s untimely prison break.”

She seems exhausted if the bitterness in her voice is anything to go by. I know it’s not because of Kara though. She’s honestly one of the sweetest people I know, and she’s an even better reporter.

I check my phone for the time, only for it to start buzzing again right as I pick it up. This time no one’s calling though. It’s a reminder I set after my meltdown at Sam’s.

All it says is Noah with a flower bouquet emoji next to it because I want to put flowers on his grave the day before the actual anniversary of his death, so I don’t run the chance of crossing paths with my parents or Harper.

I hastily try to swipe it away because I don’t want Lena to see, but when I look up her eyes are glued to my phone. Then, they snap up to meet my own and the hurt in her eyes makes my insides twist.

“Who’s Noah?” she asks and the fact that she pulls away completely and stands up with betrayal written all over her face tells me that she’s completely misreading this situation.

Shit. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.

________________________________________________

Here you go, guys!! Wow it’s taken me forever to write this. Thanks for bearing with me… (Proofreading will be done over the course of the next couple of days)

Anyway, here’s the tag list I’ve been asked about:

@nuianced-tck-enby @autorasexy

[morehousebites]

Quotes as House MD

Random shit my friends have said as House MD

for contex, I'm in training to get my Medical Assistant certification and most of my friends are also in/going into the medical field

House:

My mysteries are falling out

Can't a mortal want for death?

That's assault. Don't make me elevate it to battery

No no, don't be embarrassed, you all did bad

I'm going to Hell AND I have to pay with quarters? This is the worst day ever!

It's only like the fourth gayest sport. Behind football, chess, and competitive pole dancing

Either kill yourself or get over it

Don't touch these without gloves, they will irritate your tits

Well y'know, some people come out of the closet, [Chase] goes into the closet

I only let my [fellows] teethe on them occasionally. They're mostly slobber-free

Am I not writing right now? With my words? Like a poet?

You're a sick degenerate fuck! I like you

OSHA is for pussies

I can hurt you and then it will have to be my fault

I'm American I'm entitled to piss where I want

Happy erection day. Your penis hard?

I LOVE bullying children

Sorry ladies, this cock is all mine

It's not abuse if they're living. That's why you kill them first

Chase:

Being lesbian is masochist (referring to Thirteen)

As the youth are fond of saying these days: dope, sick nasty.

I'm a cunt not a whore

He's fat, he needs a vasectomy

She's 14, her uterus is gonna wither up

My dad has a PhD in Jesus

I don't even have a thought process

Ow, don't hit me, you're ugly

The part I'm confused on.... Is all of it?

Victim blaming, it's the right thing to do

Ketchup is such a good moisturizer

Aw man that sucked ass, I guess I'll just die hairy

No sin here, move along

Cameron:

I'm not a lesbian, stay away from me

Numbers, organs, same thing. What am I, a doctor? A medical student?

Not gonna lie I kinda like heroin

Them's the house rules, and I'm the coolest bitch

Wow she's pretty! Oh she's dying

Do you not want to smoke weed on the bus to the hospital?

Not even in a sexual way just vulvas are dope

Shawty is a state of mind

Honey no one wants your organs

Alright I'm gonna go finish my work and disappoint [House]

They can't know I'm a freak YET

Supportive parents? In this economy?

I can't cry cause the makeup's too slay

Whoever said laughter is the best medicine was a man

Gravity is a bitch sometimes

Pleasure myself, weep, and repeat

If I had a dollar for every time someone has told me that, I could actually afford therapy

This is pirated, by the way

I've got my own knives: they're called fingers and I swear to god if he talks to me again they are going in his eyes

Foreman:

I'm no one's babygirl, I'm someone's baby MAN

I can ethically own him in the free market space of debate

You think you have rights here? This is [the hospital]

You're taking a speed bump at 5 miles an hour, I'm gonna actually enjoy my life

There is no opinions on the gays

You spilled spaghetti on the church?! (directed at Chase)

That's not a hehe moment

Do any of you... Hear in the ears?

Infidelity ain't lookin so good right now

I'd be full of shit if I told you I knew the answer all the time

I sympathize with you but you're making funny noises

THE DOOR WAS UNLOCKED THE WHOLE TIME AND I SLITHERED THROUGH THE WINDOW?!

Don't antagonize drunk old men who hate you

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

hi!!! congratulations on your 1k followers!! your blog is so great and you deserve each one of them!! i wanted to request a ficlet with the following picks: P, zombie apocalypse au, hurt comfort and 🔪!! can't wait to see what you come up with, congratulations again!! -@steveseddie

Aw, that's so lovely, thank you! This one was a lot of fun to figure out, and of course it has grown a little plot already. 😅

My world ends (without you)

Rated: E (for blood and violence)

Words: 997

Tags: Zombie Apocalypse AU; Established relationship; Blood and violence; Steve Harrington whump

One time, shortly after they lost Eddie, Max asked Steve if he never got mad. She didn't look at him, just continued staring ahead, knees hugged to her chest. Her face was dotted crimson from their latest run-in with the dead, like a smattering of extra freckles.

“Do you even care at all? About what happened to Eddie?” 

“Of course,” Steve said, fingernails digging crescents into his palm. “He was my friend.” 

She huffed. “Friend, yeah. Whatever. Point is, I'd be furious at these undead fuckheads, but you? You're so calm. I don't get it.” 

Steve hummed, thinking about how to explain. 

“Of course I'm mad,” was what he settled on. “But you gotta keep a level head, or you'll do stupid things. I got you kids to protect. And besides, you think those undead fuckheads asked for this? It's the damn virus that's screwing us all over.” 

It's funny how he remembers this now, months later, huddled into the shelter of a tree and peeling his pants away from his bleeding leg. Part of him is still hoping it's something else - that he cut himself falling through that window, that one of his last bullets ricocheted and got him, fuck, please anything but this. 

But it is. 

The teeth marks in his flesh, the way the wound is already festering and turning black, tell him all he needs to know. 

“Fuck!” he swears, falling backwards and staring up at the darkening sky through stinging eyes. His hand twitches for his gun - he'd rather end it now than happening upon Robin or the kids later - but then he remembers he's out of ammunition. There's nothing he can do. 

Nothing but lie here and let the fever take him and hope that whoever finds him puts a quick end to it. 

*

He doesn't expect to wake up again, not as himself. When he does, his head is cradled in someone's lap and for a moment, he thinks he's back at their camp with Robin, that it was all a nightmare. But then he realizes he's still in the forest and the pain in his leg hits him like a ton of bricks. 

“-quite the number on you, huh, big boy?” 

Steve's groan turns into a gasp. 

“Eddie? This isn't real, you're dead.” 

Eddie grins, briefly. It tugs on the big, gnarly scar covering his jaw and the side of his face, just where Steve saw him get bitten. Then, his face settles back into grim determination. 

“How long?” 

Steve blinks against the confusion and the fever. “Huh?” 

“Your leg, Stevie. How long since the bite?” 

“I … I dunno,” Steve slurs. His head is pounding. He's burning inside. “Few hours?” 

Eddie nods. “Gotta be quick then. Sorry, this is gonna hurt like a bitch.” 

He places Steve's head on the ground, bustling around with something in the fire he has built next to their spot.

“What’re you-” Steve starts to say, trying to sit. That's when he realizes his wrists are tied above his head and panic kicks alive behind his ribcage. “Eddie?” 

When Eddie turns, he's holding a knife. The blade is glowing orange.

“No,” Steve breathes, feebly straining against his bonds. “Nonono, Eddie, please!” 

“Hey,” Eddie says. “Remember when we first met?” 

The question comes from so far out of left field that Steve forgets to struggle. Eddie’s eyes are dark and serious in the firelight. 

“You said to make it outta this, we gotta trust each other. You trust me?” 

Steve doesn’t even hesitate. He nods. Eddie smiles, brief but pleased. 

“Then let's go.” 

Something nudges against Steve’s lips, something dry and leathery - a belt. 

“You'll wanna bite down on something,” Eddie says, regret in his eyes. “Believe me.” 

Swallowing down the humiliation burning in his throat, Steve opens his mouth. 

“Atta boy,” Eddie praises, but the joke falls flat between them. “Let's fucking do this.” 

And Steve's world disappears behind a wall of pain. 

*

“Y’know,” Eddie murmurs. He's propped them up against the tree trunk, Steve’s head tucked under his chin, fingers combing Steve's sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. “I'd be lying if I told ya I never thought of tying you up and gagging you with my belt, but this was not what I imagined.” 

Steve scoffs weakly, eyes straying down to his bandaged leg. “Did it work?” 

Eddie shrugs. “Think so. Henry says you gotta cut the infection out before it spreads, but how much time you got depends on a lot of factors. Your fever seems to be under control , so that's good, but lemme know if you develop any unusual cravings. Brains, raw meat, that kinda-” 

“Woah, hold on, who's Henry? Did he …” 

Eddie interrupts his ramble when Steve’s fingers find the new scar on his jaw. He allows Steve to map the shape of it for a while before catching his fingers and pressing a kiss to them. 

“Yeah. He's head of a safe zone, about twenty miles north from here. He's a scientist … well, used to be, and … Stevie, he thinks he knows how to cure it.” 

“What? Eddie, that's incredible, where- We gotta tell the others, we gotta-” Steve has hardly startled upright when Eddie guides him back down. 

“Right now, honey, all we gotta do is let you rest. Plenty of time to break the good news to the others tomorrow.” 

And maybe it's the pain, or maybe it's the blood loss, or maybe it's the overwhelming bliss of having Eddie back, but Steve doesn’t find it in himself to argue. 

“Alright,” he whispers, letting his head sag against Eddie’s chest and allowing the gentle rhythm of his beating heart to lull him to sleep. “Just … don't leave again.” 

Eddie kisses the top of his head. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.” 

He's broken that promise before. There's no guarantee he won't break it again, not in this fucked up nightmare they live in. But Steve trusts him. 

That has to be enough. 

Man, that Henry sounds like a swell fella, I'm sure nothing will go wrong.

More celebration ficlets

[millerscoffee]

dancing is a dangerous game | part one

you're a bandit like me, eyes full of stars.

5.5k | joel miller x f!reader

masterlist

rating: 18+ MDNI

tw: brief mentions of using your body for trading purposes, you shoot at joel miller????, light dub-con but that goes away quickly

warnings: post-outbreak au. no ellie. angsty smut, semi-dom!reader and dom!joel so that's fun, power struggle, age gap (joel is 56, reader is late 20s or early 30s), enemies to lovers, voyeurism (f watching m), masturbation (m and f), pet names/degrading names (baby, honey, darlin', brat, bitch, slut, etc.), dirty talk, choking, oral (m receiving), fingering, spanking, p in v (unprotected - wrap it up folks), joel is mean but not unkind. no use of y/n.

summary: inspired by "cowboy by me" by our lord and savior taylor swift. this is a post-outbreak world and joel has his own land. think bill, but a little less... deranged. kind of. you essentially are a raider, but make it fashion. when you stalk joel's cabin for the third day, that's when you get interrogated by none other than joel miller himself.

A/N: hi, i'm bee! this is my first fic on tumblr, and my first stab at this whole stratosphere. longtime listener; first time caller 💅. i was ALSO inspired by an ask i saw on @swiftispunk's page (hi! i love your writing sm??) and kinda just... ran with it. i honestly wasn't anticipating writing stuff during the outbreak, so i apologise if it's not quite right. imagine me living during that time with a tube of lipgloss and one (1) bullet in my pocket just in case. this... may be a series. i don't know yet. see ya! enjoy!!!

The first time you meet Joel Miller is down the barrel of your gun.

You can hear your father's voice telling you 'Back out, girl. Don't get too big for your britches.' Look where that got him. His ashes against your chest in a makeshift pendant necklace, buried by your clothes.

Still, you listen.

"It don't have to be like this," you drawl with index over the trigger guard. You've heard of him. Joel Miller. He's notorious, and even though you've kept to yourself most of your life, his name still roamed throughout the abandoned towns you passed. Someone always owed him, and he always owed somebody.

Your dad would've been older than him, but not by much. You knew of the world before this, was just a little thing. Still, you heard stories undulate from your father's southern voice that mostly left you bored on long days searching for food or shelter. You'd give anything to hear them now.

Part of you died when he did.

You were young when the outbreak happened. Resourceful, your father made it work in raising you. Taught you how to fend for yourself, rely on no one. Which was no easy feat considering how unbelievably stubborn you were. Were? Are.

Maybe he loved you. Maybe it was the chip on his shoulder. The kind of anguish that comes from not being able to give your mother the same kind of life. A promise to her.

Yes, you were young when the outbreak happened, but flashbacks of her getting attacked by a clicker burn you alive at night.

"Y'er on my land." A gruff voice calls you back to reality. Few words for someone who held your life in his hands. His own gun pointing back at you. Of course it would be.

"I was just passin' through." The lie flies through your teeth. You had been circling the place from a reasonable distance for a few days now. Scoping out when this man in front of you was his busiest, when he patrolled, when he slept. This was a heist situation, no doubt about it.

"Bullshit. This s'the third fuckin' time I seen you 'round here. And it's y'er last."

Shit. Fucking shit.

Your eyes dart to the side, really trying to pattern a plan in escaping but your breathing would say otherwise as calm and collected as it was.

In any other situation, you wouldn't be so willing to comply, but considering he's got you cornered and his gun is quite literally cocked and ready to go – you're not exactly in the position to make hasty decisions.

Goddammit if there wasn't something about him that made you nervous.

"Listen. Just was lookin' for somewhere to sleep. It's fuckin' cold and your stables look warm." Your head tilts in the direction of a lone horse's home in a bed of hay, and you're not fully lying. It's not that you have set up camp by any means, but you've noticed.

"We could trade. You give me y'er ammo, and I g–"

"You give me your cock, I get it. You really could be more original." You were used to this. Bartering, some might call it. Living out here on your own was dangerous, and running into men who wanted to use your body in order to get supplies wasn't that uncommon. If they were that kind, even. You'd heard the horror stories.

Albeit, most of these men met your gun in the end. Enabling you acquire their supplies, keep all yours, and your dignity. Win/win.

"...I give you the pleasure of livin' another day. Really? Y'think it's that easy?"

There was something in the way Joel says this that makes you grateful for the jacket you're wearing. Goosebumps prickle your skin, bile creeping up your throat and you will it back down again. Y'think it's that easy? As if he thought you wanted it.

If circumstances were different, you'd be rubbing the crimson off your cheeks. Flashing him a sheepish grin in an attempt to resolve whatever misunderstanding there was... but this wasn't the environment to elicit such conversation.

And you weren't that type of person to begin with.

Instead, your index sweeps from guard to trigger when you fire off at his leg. Hasty decisions be damned. You're quicker than him, so why're you tryin' to save him? You're a 'shoot to kill' type of person, and as the bullet grazes past his calf – part of you wishes you had.

Because not only did your bullet not make contact, Joel gets worse. You two lock eyes. His rifle is thrown over his shoulder as he grunts and walks perfectly fine over to you – despite the way his eyebrows knit together, jaw ticked. Was that a grin? Do something, anything – run.

Joel grips the nape of your neck, and you yelp in surprise.

Who the fuck does this man think he is?

His large hand eclipses your wrist as he maneuvers the gun from your hand. The action makes you writhe in pain, and it sends a shiver down your spine to know he's only using an ounce of his power.

You dig your elbow into his ribs despite him stronger than you. Stomping, kicking, punching anything you can find.

"What the fu–"

"Little girl, you picked the wrong one." His breath edges at the shell of your ear, and every sign should be pointing for you to hate this, but it almost feels familiar. Like yourself. It's only then when you worry.

---

You don't realise it, but Joel is pushing you inside his cabin. Keeping your head in direction of the ground, thud of the door heard somewhere behind you.

"You want to be treated like a big girl? Get these fuckin' pants off."

"What... what? No I'm fuckin' not–"

Joel chews up the space between you when he pushes you to the nearest wall. Your back at his chest, a cheek flush against the cabin's support.

Pine, tobacco, and whiskey fill your senses and you bite back the urge to whimper. He wouldn't see you like that.

"You're not? That why you were watchin' me jerk off last night? 'Cuz you don't wanna give it up?"

That alone makes blood creep up your neck and spill over your cheeks. You have to squeeze your legs together to quell the ache.

It was lonely on your own.

Most nights were spent half asleep on a cold, hard surface. Tired and hungry more days than not. You don't remember the last time you got a hot meal, much less been touched. So when you heard Joel's low grunts coming from the window (a window from a cabin you don't know quite yet that he built with his own hands) you become intrigued.

It's in this moment you're certain it must have been the rustling of branches just outside his room. You remember it happening last night, cursing to yourself for making noise. His fist stalled around the girth of his fat cock before spilling his seed over his stomach. As if that is what caused him to come.

It makes sense now, and it equally causes you to become dizzy and filled with rage. You bite your bottom lip, unable to think of a response.

"Mouthy thing ain't got much to say now. Now c'mon. I ain't taking these off you, doin' it y'erself." More of a warning, Joel lets up on his grip on you, but you're defenseless. No weapons, no pack. He's got your world in his hands.

With the newly found space between the two of you, you turn around – back of your head against the wall as your eyes find the other set for, perhaps, the first time. And they're deep. Deeper than you were aware of. Dark, impossibly round. Wrinkles reside on the sides of them, and if you knew any better, you wouldn't admit they were doing something to you.

But not only are you stubborn, you're too forthright to beat around the bush.

"I shot at you, and you want my cunt? You must be lonelier than I a–"

"Now."

Your words don't match your actions as your hands fall by your sides. Fingers play with zipper of your old, faded jeans that have seen better days.

You can't help but snicker an awkward laugh from how he's just watching you. Insecurities rise when you realise you're not laughing at him, but more his eyes on you. How intense it feels suddenly. He wants this. Wants you.

His eyes draw impatiently, broad frame leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed.

"Ain't got all day. Still considerin' your death."

His arms. Bulging through the fabric of his shirt, his body was built in a way that you could tell he worked with his hands... maybe in his past life, too. Throat dry, you shimmy out of your pants until you're left in your cotton panties.

Ones that you are becoming more aware the condition of. A small pool of wetness forming at the core of you clings to the fabric.

"Top, too."

Is that? It is. Your eyes wander down to see the growing bulge in Joel's pants. Not even the hem of his flannel could hide it. Sure, you'd seen it in its full form the night before, but that was with distance and without the heat rising between the two of you.

You bite your lip without hesitation, pulling the layers of jacket and a handful of tops onto the ground until you're bare. The cool air passes over your nipples and wills them into stiff peaks.

"Ain't you somethin', baby."

That's the first time Joel Miller draws a shaky exhale out of you. All from a single sentence.

When Joel steps over to you, that calm and collected breath is nowhere to be found. Your chest rises and falls at a random pattern, feeling more and more naked by the second as his clothes are completely kept on his body. A purposeful tactic.

He bends down to collect your clothes along with everything else that yours, and you are truly at his will. So busy on the precipice of pleasure that you don't even think about trying to get away.

"Stay."

"Ain't a dog." You glare, standing with your legs brushing together.

"Then quit actin' like a bitch. And quit movin', I'm gettin' to you."

It shuts you up quick, jaw snapping shut. You're certain if he told that to anyone else they'd be reduced to tears, but you can take it. It coils a heat inside the pit of your stomach that you've never felt. Causes your clit to feel as if it's on fire from the need to touch it.

Joel turns on his heel to walk away and it's as if you're able to breathe fresh air from the humidity he brings. You notice he's putting your things and his rifle away on his kitchen counter before coming back to you. He must really trust his ability to keep everything out like that.

Then again, have you even moved in the last five minutes?

The last thing he is, is worried.

You're able to look around, if only for a moment. Though, is it really looking? Your adrenaline is pumping, pupils blown from the fact that not only are you in the house you'd been stalking... you're about to fuck the man in it. And you almost tried to kill him. You definitely didn't miss on purpose. Couldn't have.

All the same, the cabin was nice, and you could take in briefly the light wood – old and weathered. A record player in the corner beside a guitar. This stuff could get you a lot in return, but for whatever reason that doesn't even cross your mind. Maybe your heart beating in your ears is a handy distraction to keep you walking the line.

Your eyes track the rugged man instead.

---

"Here's how this is gonna go," he announces, coming back to you and not phased that you haven't moved a muscle. "You are gonna take your ass over there on the couch. You're gonna make me come, then you're gonna go. Understand?"

"Well... I guess it is that easy."

Your bratty mouth getting you in trouble again. As if you're in the position to say anything. Naked as you are.

---

Joel's jaw ticks forward in a way that makes you feel fear, yet there's a direct correlation between it and the slick gathering between your folds. The same wide hand that gripped the nape of your neck wraps around the front of your throat while he pushes you against the wall, and your shoulders slump – all but folding instantly.

His mouth is inches from yours, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

"Listen here. I've been real kind to you. Coulda killed ya day one, tryin' to steal my shit like that. Was gonna be real kind in where I fucked ya, too. Now we're gonna fix that mouth a'yours and fast. Knees. Now." You soon come to know this isn't a suggestion. It's not even a warning. It is what's happening.

It's in the way Joel's hands guide you down onto your knees. He goes for his belt and you hear and see that distinct clang of metal untangle before your very senses. Your mouth waters instantly, teetering into fully giving into this struggle of power.

Joel's hands are calloused. You can tell he takes care of them, but that doesn't hide the wear and tear. Specifically on his fingertips. They grip your jaw roughly, and you choke back a moan as your mouth hangs open pliantly from this. Every nerve ending buzzing to be touched.

"Where'd that bratty girl go, huh? You done bein' big and bad – wanna be a slut, don’tcha?"

Your eyelash splay along your cheeks as you nod, and you feel his grip tighten, tugging your chin up higher.

"Look at me. You want this cock? I need your words. Tell me you wanna be a slut."

You're not sure when it happens, but hot tears run down your cheeks as everything comes to a head. Your body is trembling with raw desire right at your fingertips, just within reach. You can't hold back anymore, it physically hurts to.

"I wanna be a slut for this cock... please."

"Fuck, even a please. Oughta eat you out for that, sugar. Maybe next time."

Your brain is swimming at the thought. Next time?

With his free hand, Joel sets his cock free from his jeans, giving a satisfying smack to his abdomen quickly. No need for another piece of fabric keeping him from getting what he wants as you soon take note he isn't wearing boxers.

There's no denying what you're met with as you get to view it from this close. Joel Miller has a pretty cock. There's a soft, but bulging vein on the underside to match how big and thick it is. The rosy tip greets you, and it's the first time you get to see how much you've turned him on.

Your mouth is drooling while it's pried open and meets the tip of him. A moan from you is instantaneous, yet feels so distant from yourself, it doesn't affect you until much later. The taste of his precum coats your tongue as he slips past your lips and it's all you can experience. Your moans slip in and out of the sloshing sounds of your mouth. Keeping your hands by your sides, you don't tempt to touch him in fear he would pull away, so instead you twirl your tongue around his leaking head. Bob your head up and down in a slow, but sultry rhythm that causes him curse under his breath. He's not stoic above you, he's reacting.

He's clawing for every last bit of the upper hand.

"S'a lot, innit, babygirl? That's alright, you can take it." It's then you can sense Joel's guard slipping. Could be the fact that your mouth is suctioned perfectly around the length of his cock, but his voice gets damn sweeter the longer you go like this. His hips also have no problem in thrusting shallowly every now and then to knock the drool off of your dripping chin.

Even if you could form a thought, you don't know you would.

His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling it out of your face as you maintain eye contact. Intuitive in your approach, he told you to look at him earlier, so maybe he likes it? The groans filling the room lead you to believe you are correct. It feels so removed from who you were moments before: snickering because his gaze felt intimidating. Now, his pupils are blown as they pour into yours and his neck hangs back when your mouth makes those pretty, sloppy popping noises – testing your gag reflexes as you will them to relax.

It's way more intimate than anything you've ever done with anyone you've ever been with, and this stranger is pulling it out of you. Within the mess your brain is in, you remind yourself if you want to stop you can, and not a bit of you does.

The hot tears that were once down your cheeks swell in your eyes once more, but this time from the sheer size of him. You moan vibration after vibration against him, shifting and pushing your cunt against your calf, thigh – anything to feel some sort of friction.

He lets out a growl when he notices you, "Honey, if it's that bad, touch yourself." If your cheeks weren't red before, they are now.

It's him calling you out, slight embarrassingly, but not letting up with his hips. It's the way the embarrassment builds the fire in the pit of your belly. It's your hand pushing inside your panties at the sound of his command. And it's you practically choking on his cock from the gasp you let out through your nose – stunned at how wet you are.

Your fingertips barely brush over your clit when you notice the slick collecting, bubbling right at the very top of your slit and slutty moans fall out of you. Your eyelids droop as you try to keep your gaze up to Joel, but the way your fingertips roll over the hood of your clit in satisfying circles sends you over the edge way quicker than you anticipate.

"Shit, baby. Just like that. You filthy thing, can't hold off another minute longer, can ya? Need it right fuckin' now."

The sound of Joel's deep voice looms overhead as you come completely undone.

Unable to stop yourself, the suction on his cock pops free for a moment. Your moans hitting the air as your eyes roll back. Your body rushing to find each wave of pleasure roll off your back. Joel's cock still nestled in your mouth, but his hips still. "Goddamn, look at that little slut come out. Such a needy fuckin' kitten."

When Joel makes sure you've ridden it out, he pulls his cock from your mouth. Your body feels weak despite how eager your mind is now, face-to-face with Joel's cock, you watch as his scarred hand glides your saliva over his length entirely. It puts you in a trance, quickly getting out of it when he taps his cock against your cheek. "Pretty kitten want this? C'mon."

If your moans felt foreign to you, you don't even know what to do with yourself at the twinge of a grin that spreads on your face. The sheer audacity of his taps right against your fucking cheek. Orgasm-drunk, you shuffle to your feet and Joel has no problem in tossing you – finally – to the couch.

Your back is to him while the front of your body brackets the width of his couch, arms hunched over the back of it, knees dig into the cushions. You're grateful for the lack of eye contact in this position as it gives you a moment to press your face into your bicep, an attempt to collect yourself. But all of it obsolete when you sense Joel's presence at your ass.

His body heat unmistakable to miss. You bite at your own skin, neck craning to behind you to watch him.

"Shit, darlin', look at you. Ass up like this like y'er in fuckin' heat for me." You whine at the fact his clothes are still mostly on, and you know he must be sweating underneath them, but he won't give it to you like that. Not yet, 'maybe next time'. "You know I can't go any further 'til you get a spankin'. Need to be punished for tryin' to hurt me like that. For tryin' to take my things. Ain't right. Need you to learn your lesson."

Where are you? A part of you knows this is a tactic. That Joel is lulling you into a position you can't say no to. It already shows itself in how you're splayed on his couch. Yet, you can't find the person you were before you stepped into the cabin. Not yet, not like this. You nod weakly, and Joel swipes the cotton undies down to your thighs so quickly the rush of air cools the heat of your folds. A flutter runs through you.

"Count. To ten. If you don't, we start over. Say, yes sir."

"Y-yes... sir. Yes sir."

A searing, mind-numbing spank wallops over your ass and it causes your hips to jut forward. Whimper hitting the top of your throat, you almost, almost, forget to count. Everything in your senses distracting you from completing the simplest tasks such as fucking counting.

"O-one." Another. "Twooo." And again. "Th-three!"

You start sniffling by the third smack of his wide hand, and you hear mocking sniffs behind your head. "Aww, pretty baby can't take the hurt she tries to give to others? That must be really tough. Y'heart's bleedin' all over my couch, honey."

Your cheeks burn, you really feel sorry for what you've done. Or at least, what you were planning to do.

The next spank leaves a welt of Joel's handprint across your skin. "FOUR!" Your body begins to feel weak, sliding against the couch, you know talking back is useless as you silent tears stream into your arm.

There are six more blinding slaps to your ass by the time he's done with you, and you feel him pull back when he's through. You imagine him wringing his palms, the roughness of them. You begin to wonder if that's how they got to be so weathered, and pretend not to be weirded out by the ache of jealousy.

"Y'know for somebody whinin' the whole time, your pussy is just droolin' from that," any narrative you wandered off with disappears in its replacement of Joel's fingers gathering slick between your folds. No announcement, just go. It was just within reach, feeling him inside you. You ride the shudder your body makes, licking your lips as you realise the unspoken rule is free and you can speak. "N-need it. Need your cock, please... please." "Need it, and you don't even know my name?" His index and middle finger waste no time in pressing into your aching core. Sounds of your wailing mix with his words as he lurches over, lip close to your ear. "Or maybe you do already."

"Please, please, please," your fingertips grip for the worn fabric of his couch while your hips that try to jut back are quickly halted by his other palm, a strong stopper at the base of your spine. "Not 'til you tell me my name." "I-I don't know. I don't know it, I swear." Joel's thick fingers slip completely out of you and you mewl pathetically, pussy clenching around nothing and he can see every last detail of it behind you. "Last fuckin' time, better tell me the truth." "It's Joel," you cry, hips pushing back against the resistance as much as possible. Anything to be filled again. "Joel. Joel. Joel. I was... I was– I don't know anybody. Not with anybody, I swear! Joel, I swear. Please! Just grew up hearin' your name. I swear on my life, Joel, please! I know I lied, didn't think you'd believe me."

You don't know why you're begging like your life depends on it, but your pleasure surely does, and there's a longer pause than you want lingering behind you. As if you can palpably feel Joel contemplating whether you're being truthful or not. But if there's one thing about you, aside from this moment in this compromising position: you don't answer to anybody.

Joel's cock bottoming out inside of you at the drop of a hat is confirmation enough that he believes you.

And you not only wail, but scream at the stretch and irresistible contact that punches you straight to your gut – right where you can feel the tip of him. Half-moon prints dig into your hips by his short fingernails when he grabs ahold of you and you're on your forearms, head hanging between your shoulders. Your panties keep your thighs straying too far apart if there is such a thing.

"This what you wanted when you watched me?" Joel grips your torso now, pulling you closer to him as you become more upright, his cock more accessible to the spongy spot inside of you and your nipples stand erect, eyes rolling back as it takes all of you not to rest your head back against his shoulder, and you fail. Hard. Your occiput makes contact with his shoulder. Joel brushes your hair back to the side, lips graze but never fully touches the column of your neck. "Thought about this tight cunt last night. Left the window open on purpose, but you knew that already, didn't you, pretty girl? Clever little thing and so fuckin' dirty."

Joel's hand snakes around the front of you, spreading your folds as he dives his fingers over your glossed-over clit your wetness claimed and that sends a whine off of your depraved lips. "That's it, honey. Show me what this cock does to ya. Makes you downright brainless from how well you take it." While his skilled fingers, toy with your clit, the other set of digits graze over your breasts on their way up to your mouth. You take them inside the warmth of your wet mouth easily, rolling your tongue over the digits until you can only focus on the white hot pleasure beginning to boil over. You keep his fingers between your teeth, a faint realisation that you can taste yourself on them. That's what does it.

His hips are relentless as they pound into you, the repetitious slaps of his skin against yours, of his balls tapping your cunt again and again sends you into a place that he knows you're approaching when you tighten and pulse.

"Y'know how tight and wet you feel around me, darlin'? Never had a fuckin' cunt like this. Let it out, let it out, just like you wanna. Just like you did last night around your fingers. Nothin' like this cock though, and you know it now, don't you? Oh, fuck yeah– thaaat's it. Look at you." "Joel... Joel!!!" Joel talks you through it, sending your body diving off the cliff that is your second orgasm. The undeniable gush of your fluids around his cock. His name stays stuck at the your tongue, the constant thud of it vibrates your lungs.

It starts at the attention on your clit. The raw bundle of nerves send signals outward as it spreads down your legs, up your stomach, to your nipples and down your spine. Your brain feels effervescent, toes curl, and it comes back again right to your heart. Your beating heart, wild, and every moan, whimper, scream that comes from you sounds like it is from someone else's chest. But it's yours, and you know that when you start to feel hazy, unable to hold yourself up anymore.

"Good for my cock after all. Ain't ya, baby? Shit."

Your torso leans forward while your cheek rests on the top of your hand that's gripped on Joel's couch, and your body is relaxed and fucked. Comfortably silent, just the way Joel would want you. His cock slips out of you, unable to stop the slew of grunts and groans that acts as an anchor to keep you from slipping under. You lick your lips, looking back at him with a nod, unable to stay silent for long. That struggle of power coming back for vengeance. "That's right. Come all over this ass you ruined. See those handprints? Dirty fucking man, you just met me. Show me how much you enjoyed doing that."

That's as far as you get when you feel the heavy streams of his hot, white come rope over your skin, and for someone who is no position to be smug, you sure do have a shit-eating grin on your face. Pure, and the simplest thing the two of you accomplish.

Joel shakes his head, shallow breaths become him as he staggers back and you pretend not to notice. "Gonna kill me, kid."

"Almost did."

---

You don't know why, but neither of you hold the promise of you leaving right away. You linger, both of you half naked and spent. You take your time cleaning yourself off, slipping your clothes back on. Day becoming night.

You tiptoe into the living room where Joel is unfurled on his couch. His eyes are closed, the back of his head inches away from where the two of you just had sex.

Planning your goodbye, you sit at the edge of the couch cushion, knowing he wasn't really asleep. Just restin' his eyes.

"I am sorry...," you finally say into the dimly lit room, pangs of annoyance fizz at your tongue for even apologising. For shooting him, for trying to steal from him. All of it.

It's not his fault. It's just how you are.

This is dichotomous in relation to your eyes. They're bleary when a yawn pulls deep from within you. As if rest had been climbing up to the surface this entire time.

"Maybe you should be apologisin' 'bout your shitty aim. Could teach you a thing or two." Joel's eyes remained closed, arms crossed. If you could let yourself experience this, you would notice how soft he looks in this moment. Instead, your stomach is recoils in fight or flight.

You're glad he can't see you swallow the knot in your throat.

There was no magical solution for your life, and a part of you wishes you hadn't chosen his cabin to raid. You wish you hadn't met him, because now you could feel yourself want to notice the small things in him. Already.

You felt it dangerous to let anything that close to you.

You scoff to play it off, giving his chest a light shove and very accidentally getting lost in the light landscape of hairs that resides at the top of his flannel. "I could teach you a thing or two." A pathetic response for a pathetically spent human.

"We could both teach each other," he resigns and you're grateful he doesn't point out your lack of wit for how worn out he's made you. Perhaps the smugness settles in the things he doesn't say. Really, it's in what Joel spouts off next that throws you upside down.

"S'why you should stay. One month. That's it."

"Excuse me?"

"Didn't stuttered," your eyes roll and somehow, despite Joel's own being shut, he tuts his teeth. "Don't roll your eyes at me, little girl. You need a place to sleep. Besides, I could use an extra set of hands. Way I see it, best offer you've had in a while. Got a shelf life, though. Don't like to wait."

A part of you is suspicious, and if this man didn't make sure you orgasmed twice, you would suspect yourself to be dead within a matter of minutes.

There's something true about him, though. You're unwilling to look at it directly, but you trust him.

"Fine."

"Gonna need clearer confirmation, darlin'. Really need you to want this if you're gonna stay with me." He knew exactly where to press.

"Fuck, I shoulda killed you when I had the chance. I want to stay with you. One month." You try to ignore the grit between your teeth as speak, but your shoulders eventually soften. And you really do mean it. It's just... you're hardened from years of misplaced trust.

Your hand goes to the pendant around your neck subconsciously.

Joel either doesn't notice, or gives you the space.

You're grateful either way.

"That's that, then."

If anyone could understand the concept, it's Joel.

"That's that."

[bellarkeselection]

Request yellowstone Lee dutton

Reader is drunk and she calls her friend jamie to come pick her up jamie tells his dad and brother reader calls and needs to be pick up at a bar so lee and jamie go when they gets there some guy was hitting on her and Lee saves her and jamie being a lawyer threatens him

Dutton Boys Got My Back

Sitting up at the bar I downed another beer and added it to my section of ones I had finished in the few hours I have been here. Tonight I needed a release from having a fight with my mother over the fact that I had stuck around with the Dutton family. She wanted me to leave Montana but I felt like I belonged here and nowhere else. “Can I get another Liam?”

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” The bartender asked me.

Shaking my head I snapped back. “Nah I don’t think so. Now get me another before I call my buddies.”

“Okay don’t start a fight in my bar.” He warned me walking away to get another beer.

Taking my phone out of my pocket I scoffed scrolling through my contacts until I found Jaime’s cell. We had been close up until his daddy had sent him off to become a lawyer. Now I knew if I ever got in trouble he’d bail me out. Hitting he call button I finished the remainder of my beer. “Hey Jaime…you working on any big cases?”

“Not tonight. What are you doing?” He asked me.

Slurring my words the bartender came back giving me my new drink. “Just having some drinks after fighting with my mother again this year. That women don’t understand my life…”

“How many drinks have you had?” He questioned me.

Sitting my beer bottle down I answered him back. “It don’t matter, Jaime. Just enough to know….have we ever gone out dancing together. We should do that tonight. Come and pick me up.”

“I’ll be there in a few.” He responded ending the phone call.

I wasn’t sure how long I had been sitting there but it was long enough to know I should’ve probably left hours ago. Half the time I came out to the bar with Beth. The other times it was rare if I got Lee and Jaime out and off that ranch for the night. Lee and I always have something more going on then what we are actually comfortable to admit to ourselves. I’ve had a crush on him for years and I’d be married to him if my mother would allow it. “Dutton’s mean nothing but trouble.” She’d say to me during some of our arguments.

“What’s a pretty gal like you sitting up here all alone. Drowning your emotions in alcohol is no way to go.” A random guy came up to me but he nearly collapsed on top of the bar top telling me he was more drunk then I was.

Taking a sip from my beer I sent him a smirk. “That’s none of your business, buddy.”

“It kinda is a part of my business. I wanna….spend a round with you.” He gets up close to me pushing his Boyd up against mine nearly spilling his drink in my lap.

Glancing up at him I shook my head knowing exactly what he wanted tonight. He was one of the guys that think they can sleep with any girl that by herself. Beth taught me how to deal with men like this. Getting to my feet I stared into his eyes. “I have no interest in you.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.” The drunk man said back to me, quickly grabbing me by my hips bringing me close against his chest and I couldn’t move since my back was pressed to the bar top behind me. “You want this as much as I do.”

Gripping the bottle in my hand I throw it over his head and he stumbled backwards. “You little bitch!”

He moved forward grabbing me by my shoulders shoving me against the hard wood behind me. I grunted feeling my arms get some cuts on them from how hard he pushed me. He got in my face and I bared my teeth trying to fight him when he slipped a hand underneath my shirt. I screamed hitting his chest but he slapped me across the face. He would have done it a second time if someone hadn’t yanked him back by the collar of his jacket. “Why don’t you keep your hands off of her.”

“I wasn’t doing anything wrong.” The drunk guy grumbled to the guy.

Blinking my eyes I sniffed through some tears recognizing the cowboy that had stepped in and protected me. “Lee, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Why don’t you get your hands off of me, cowboy. I ain’t done anything wrong…because she enjoys being around me.” The stranger got up in the oldest Dutton’s face.

Lee glanced in my direction. “Why’d you hit him, darling?”

“Tried to get handsy after I told him I wasn’t interested.” Crossing my arms over my chest I answered his question.

“Did you hear that, brother?” Lee called over his shoulder allowing me the chance to see his brother Jaime come inside the bar. He was dressed in his suit and tie looking like he didn’t belong there. Yet either way I was happy to see my friend knowing he would fix this without anyone beer bottles to the head.

He nodded in agreement. “Sure did. I’ll take it from here. Who’s the more intoxicated one here?”

“He is. I told him I wasn’t interested and he still came on me.” Pointing my index finger at the drunk.

Jaime made a noise. “I’d suggest you leave this girl alone for the rest of the night. Unless you wish to be taken to court.”

“You can’t take me to court.” He says.

Lee and I glanced at one another with Jaime closing the gap between them almost completely. “I’d advise you choose your next words carefully. sir. My father owns the largest ranch in the state and this girl you think is here for some fun is a very close friend of ours. And I can smell alcohol and see some cuts on her arm’s meaning you could be filed for public intoxication. Like I said go home and avoid trouble.”

“So I was told you asked for a ride home. I’m here to pick ya up, darling.” Lee shrugged his shoulders at me once the drunk had stumbled off somewhere else making it just the three of us.

Grabbing my jacket I closed the gap between us leaning up on my toe’s taking him by surprise. “I appreciate it, Lee. Do me a favor and don’t think I’m doing this just because I’m a little tipsy. I….rather like you.” Leaning up on my toes I grabbed his collar drawing him down to me where I gave him a kiss rather quickly.

“What was that for?” He asked me turning a little red once we separated from each other.

Winking at him I walked through the door. “That’s a thank you for my Dutton boys coming to get me.”

“Take her to the truck and I’ll pay the tab.” Jaime told his brother at the same time that Lee scooped me up bridal style making me giggle at his actions. Wrapping my arms around his neck I laid my head on his chest.

Lee chuckled sitting his hat on top of my head carrying me outside to the truck. “If there’s more thank you’s like that one in the future I wouldn’t mind.”

“As long as your okay with my momma not liking you then we have a good chance.” I grinned at him where he helped me inside the passenger seat. He shut the door gently and kissed my forehead before I passed out waiting for Jaime to come outside so we could go home for the evening.

Lee brushed hair behind my ear he smiled lovingly. “We always come when somebody like you calls.” That was a very true statement since every time I called them they had come without a thought of hesitation because that is what family does for one another.

Comments really appreciated ❤️