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saddleups · 1 month ago

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𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 .

★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 . . . 2.8k

★ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 . . . drabble , complete. JAMES SUNDERLAND X F!READER !! 18+ SMUT MDNI !!

★ 𝐂𝐖 . . . fighting for dominance (?) . oral ( m and f receive ) . guys its rough . explicit dirty talk . sixty nine lol . p_rn w/o plot.

★ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 . . . james sunderland has always been a mystery to you. after a long day on the road , he suggests stopping at a rundown , grimy motel for the night. the place is far from inviting , but james is determined. its here , in this dirty old motel that you finally uncover what's been lurking in that charming blonde head of his.

★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . . . i cheated and looked at the poll results earlier ... it gave me a head start considering 58% of y'all yearned for the motel lol . ngl , this is kind of a mess but i am feral.

The drive home had stretched out longer than either of you had expected. James was behind the wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but you could feel the weight of his exhaustion in his posture. The soft hum of music played in the background as you found yourself studying his profile—the sharp slope of his nose, the strong cut of his jaw, a perfect combination that made his handsomeness almost unfair. It was hard to keep your attraction under control. Your body reacted without permission, a quiet tingling sensation awakening inside you, but you did your best to keep those feelings tucked away. After all, your poker face was never quite as convincing as James’.

He always seemed to keep his emotions locked up, held at arm’s length. Unless he directly told you what he was thinking, it was nearly impossible to read him. You realized you’d been staring too long when he spoke, his voice calm and steady. "Everything alright?"

You quickly snapped your gaze forward, heat rushing to your face. "Y-yeah. Sorry."

"I'm feeling a little tired," he admitted, still focused on the dark stretch of road ahead. "I don't think it's safe for me to keep driving."

"Do you want me to take over? I don't mind," you offered, glancing at him.

James shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "No, no. I know you're tired too. There's a motel up the road," he said, nodding toward it. "We can stop and take a break."

You nodded, relieved. "Yeah, that sounds good."

As James pulled into the motel’s parking lot, he parked the car and turned off the engine. The building ahead was far from luxurious—run-down and worn, with a flickering neon sign that made the whole place look like a relic from a forgotten era. Still, it was a place to rest.

James got out of the car first and came around to open the door for you, a gesture that made you smile despite your surroundings. It was such a small thing, but it felt thoughtful, like a reminder that he always took care of you in these subtle ways. You murmured a quiet "thank you" as you stepped out, appreciating the moment.

He walked with you to the front desk, his hand lightly guiding you. The motel lobby was just as rundown as the outside, with faded wallpaper and an odd smell lingering in the air. You couldn’t help but feel uneasy, inching closer to James as the man behind the desk asked, "What can I do for you?"

"Any room available?" James asked, his voice steady and polite.

The clerk grunted, tapping at an ancient computer before handing over a key. "Room at the end. Number seven."

You gripped James' arm tighter as he accepted the key, your nerves on edge in the seedy atmosphere. He glanced down at you, offering a reassuring look before guiding you out of the lobby and toward the room.

Once inside, you both took in the sight of the small, outdated room. It wasn’t much, but it would do for the night. You set your bag down and turned to you James soft smile. "Not exactly five-star, huh?"

James didn't respond. Instead he firmly shut the door behind him. He turned to face you, his expression unreadable as per usual, however the tension between you two was palpable. Your heart raced as you take a step back, body pressing against the wall.

"What are you doing?" You whisper.

James stepped closer, his gaze boring into yours. "What am I doing?" He sounds almost … irritated?

"After the way you were looking at me before, god. I nearly crashed the car." He huffed a breath. "Like you were begging for me to bend you over." It dawned on you, it wasn't irritation in his demeanor. It was sexual frustration.

Before you could react, James grabbed your waist and pressed his body into yours. His lips crash forming rough, punishing kiss. His hands move up your hips, pulling them closer until there was no space between you two. You felt the restriction on his jeans against your thigh, the thought of the length caused you to gasp in his mouth.

James wasn't letting go. He deepened the kiss, his tongue probing into your mouth with a hunger that left you breathless. His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing hard enough to bruise as he grinds his erection against your thigh. So desperate for a sense of relief.

Your voice trembles as you plead, "P-please…"

But James only pulls back, his eyes dark, "do you want me to stop?"

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes as you shake your head, your desperation matching his intensity. "No, please don't stop…"

He kisses you roughly, tracing the edge of your mouth with a finger as he groans against your lips. "You're so fucking sexy. I can't stop thinking about you."

Your knees tremble under his touch, completely under his spell. "What are you thinking about?" you ask coyly.

James's hands roam over your body, lifting your shirt to expose your lacy bra underneath. "Your tits, your ass," he growls as his fingers squeeze and knead your breasts. A soft moan escapes from your stained lips. "And how tight and wet your pussy feels around me."

His dirty words sent a jolt of desire through you, and you couldn't believe that such thoughts existed in his pretty head. You weigh your options in this game of seduction and decide to play along.

"But that's not what good boys do, James," you tease, causing his erection to twitch in response. "You're such a dirty boy." The seductive tone in your voice only adds fuel to the fire as James's desire for you intensifies even more.

James's eyes darkened at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Are you gonna punish me for it," he almost laughs, his voice husky with desire. His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips tightly as he pressed you harder against the wall.

You gasped as he ground his hips against yours, feeling the hard length of him through his jeans. Your head fell back against the wall, exposing your neck to him. James took full advantage, his lips trailing hot kisses down your throat as his hands roamed your body.

"God, I've wanted this for so long," he breathed against your skin, nipping at your collarbone. "Wanted you for so long."

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently as pleasure coursed through you. "Then take me," you whispered, your voice breathy with need.

James growled, his eyes flashing with hunger. "I'll show you just how dirty I can be."

In one swift motion, he lifted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carried you to the bed, tossing you onto the mattress with a bounce. Before you could catch your breath, he was on top of you, his weight pressing you into the creaky motel bed.

His hands were everywhere at once, caressing, squeezing, exploring every inch of your body. You arched into his touch, desperate for more. James's lips trailed hot kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. You knew there would be marks tomorrow, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

"James," you moaned, your voice a low, commanding whisper as your fingers slid through his hair, tightening your grip with each passing second. His lips traveled down the length of your body, but before he could indulge any further, you yanked him back, asserting control.

With a sharp tug, you pulled his head up, forcing him to meet your gaze. His eyes were wild with desperation, a raw hunger that betrayed his need, but you held him firmly in place, denying him the satisfaction he craved. He was yours to command.

"I told you," your voice cut through the thick tension in the air, "that's not how good boys behave."

His breath hitched, and you felt the shiver run through him. You could see the struggle in his expression—the fight between his desire and the knowledge that you held all the power. He was teetering on the edge, waiting for you to decide his fate.

With a groan of pleasure, you pushed yourself off the bed and stood before him, the alluring picture of innocence undone. Delicate fingers urged James forward, his eyes locked onto yours as he remained on his knees in anticipation. The sound of fabric ripping filled the room as you freed yourself from the confines of your clothes, revealing your supple body to his hungry gaze.

Your hands slipped behind the lace of your panties and gathered the wetness that coated your fingers. You held the sight before him like an offering, a temptation he couldn't resist. "Open your mouth," you commanded softly, and James obeyed without hesitation - hungrily watching as you slipped your fingers between his lips and onto his tongue.

Heart racing, you placed your fingers against James's eager mouth and ordered him to suckle like a baby from your honeyed nectar. His cheeks hollowed out with the effort as he swirled his tongue around yours, lapping up every drop of your essence while sending shivers of delight through your core.

"Good boy," you breathed out, feeling the tension within you mounting unbearably. "Suck harder." And James did - pulling on your fingers with all the desperation of a man lost in desire for you, his tongue flickering wildly against yours as he drank deeply from the wellspring of pleasure that was flowing from between your legs.

As you watched James suckle greedily at your fingers, a warm glow of pleasure spread through your body. You couldn't help but reward his eagerness with a soft "good boy" murmur that made its way into his eager mouth. His tongue flicked against yours in response, as if he understood the praise was for him alone.

Removing your fingers from his mouth a string of saliva connects you both. James , on his knees, scurried forward. His teeth biting the strap of your panties, he slid the lacey number down.

"That's my good boy," you purred, stepping closer to him and running your hands over his shoulders before guiding him towards the rickety bed that creaked under their combined weight. You pushed him gently onto his back, admiring the way he arched under your touch as he allowed himself to be led like a lamb to slaughter.

Kneeling between James's legs, you free him from the confides of his clothing. Freeing his cock from the cage it was trapped in. You ran your tongue along the length of his shaft before taking it into your mouth and sucking greedily on its hardness. His hips bucked up off the mattress in response, demanding more from you as you teased him with short bursts of oral pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so good. I feel like I'm going insane." He groaned.

James reached out to pull at your hair, urging you deeper onto his cock while pleading wordlessly for release. His hands trembled against your skin as he fought for control over himself, but ultimately it was you who held the power in this game… for now.

"You've been such a good boy," you whispered against his throbbing member before pulling back to admire its length one last time. "But I think it's time for your reward."

And with that, you sank back onto James's cock with a satisfied moan, welcoming him into the depths of your mouth. The tip of his hard cock hitting against your throat, meanwhile rings of your lipstick linger along the shaft. Before he can loose himself completely in your game, James returned the motion you shared earlier. With a fistful of your hair, he yanked you from his throbbing member with a guttural groan.

In a fervent nature he situated your body on the dirty mattress. Involuntarily, you find yourself opening your legs wider for him, "James! You're being so bad,"

"Shut the fuck up!" He dejects, running the tip of his cock against your slick cunt. He enters, stretching your walls to their extent. You stretch your legs farther in a feeble attempt to earn more from him.

As you feel James's cock sliding in and out of your tight pussy, you can't help but let out a moan of pleasure at the sensation. Your breasts rise and fall with each thrust of his hips, an erotic sight that drives him even deeper into you. "You're so wet, so filthy." With a growl of possession, James wraps an arm around your waist, pulling your body closer to his as he takes you harder than ever before.

"That's it," you pant in response, arching your back to meet him stroke for stroke. "Fuck me like the dirty little whore that I am." And James does – grinding into you with a ferocity that leaves no doubt about who holds the power here.

Finally reaching his climax, James grits his teeth and buries himself to the hilt inside you one last time before pulling out with a sharp groan of release. His hot seed shooting across your stomach in a powerful eruption that leaves both of you breathless and satiated.

As the two of you lay entangled in each other's sweaty embrace, you rest your head on his chest, tracing circles on his abdomen. The old mattress groans under your combined weight. "You were worth every fucking second," he whispers into your ear, nibbling softly on your lobe. His cock throbs against your thigh, still wet with his essence and aching for another round of pleasure.

"So what's next?" You ask teasingly, arching your back to offer him a glimpse of your slick folds beckoning him forward. "Should we try something different, I can ride you." James responded with a gruff you couldn't discern.

Then he rolls onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow as he drags you into a sixty-nine position. You yelp at the unexpected motion. His depravity, perverted nature was running like a faucet. You lay atop of James his hardened, throbbing cock mere inches from your face. With a trembling hand you reach forward for his length, tasting the juices that were inside you moments ago.

Underneath you, James darts his tongue out to taste you once more while his fingers trace lazy circles around your clit. "Fuck... you're so fucking filthy," he moans against your cunt, licking and sucking at your swollen folds as if they were the most delicious dessert he's ever tasted.

You gasp in response, surrendering your weight on James face, grinding. Completely lost in the pleasure he was providing you. Unable to focus on the task of sucking his cock, your nails dig into his thighs. Sounds of pleasure rip from your throat, uncaring of who can hear the two of you outside the motel door.

"You like that?" He asks teasingly, nipping at your clit before diving back into his feast. "Tell me how much you want it."

"I need... I need you inside me," you moan out, bucking against his tongue as it delves deeper into your soaking wet cunt. The pressure is building again but this time there's no rush – this will be a slow burn toward orgasm after orgasm until you both collapse in a puddle of sweat and satisfaction.

James' demand is like a whip cracking in the air, spurring you into action. With a ravenous hunger for his touch, you hastily position yourself as he commanded. Your legs tremble with anticipation as his hands glide up your thighs, admiring every inch of your body with greed and awe. "Beautiful," he mutters in breathless admiration. A soft smile tugs at your lips, but it quickly turns into a moan as you plunge yourself onto him, feeling his hardness fill you completely. His skillful thrusts hit all the right spots, driving you wild with pleasure. You place your hands on his chest, using them to anchor yourself as your hips move in sync with his, pushing him deeper inside you. His fingers dance over your clit, sending electrifying shockwaves through your entire body.

The symphony of your combined moans fills the room, each one louder than the last as you both lose yourselves in this passionate battle of desire and ecstasy. As your climax approaches, James' name becomes a mantra on your lips. With a final burst of intensity, waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. James' release floods inside you, overflowing with primal satisfaction that can only be found in each other's embrace. You slowly dismount and snuggle into his arms, basking in the afterglow of pure bliss. In silence, you both anticipate what new pleasures await in the morning.

#james sunderland x reader #james sunderland x you #james sunderland smut #silent hill x reader #sh 2 fic #sh 2 smut #filed: behave #saddleups

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gaywarcriminals · 15 days ago

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On Mouthwashing, Qijiu, cruel characters, and the role of discomfort in blorbo analysis.

I recently watched a playthrough and some video essays about the indie horror game Mouthwashing (spoilers ahead). For those not familiar, the game follows a man named Jimmy in a crashed spaceship where he reveals himself to be an unreliable narrator and fucked up in a variety of ways as the game progresses.

Although I’m not immersed in the fandom and thus have a limited sample size, I noticed that people treat him as nearly inhuman. He’s the sole bad actor, a terrible monster destined to hurt everyone. I find this deeply ironic considering the game’s themes of responsibility and accountability: isn’t this kind of dehumanization absolving him of his responsibility to act decently?

It’s also strange to me, because the game goes at lengths to show Jimmy has an enabler. Captain Curly is Jimmy’s friend and boss who is made aware of Jimmy’s erratic and violent behavior multiple times, chooses to do nothing, and ultimately makes possible many deaths through his inaction. Aside from Jimmy’s public outbursts, there are even scenes with a specific member of their crew expressing how unsafe she feels around Jimmy. Despite this, a decent portion of the fandom sees Curly as nothing more than one of Jimmy’s victims, which is curious to me when placed in contrast with Yue Qingyuan and Shen Jiu.

Yeah yeah I’m blorbo-brained, but I think there’s a lot of points for comparison between Qijiu and Jimmy & Curly, at least in terms of their dynamic and social roles. Jimmy and Shen Jiu are both antisocial assholes with an unhealthy fixation on the generally well liked and affable guy just above them on the totem poll. They’re both convinced their superior is looking down on them, and resent the power he has (SJ less so, he has a lot of other reasons to resent YQY). They both use what power they do have to abuse those below them. Curly and YQY, for their parts, are shown to be explicitly aware of most if not all of their friend’s worrying/dangerous behavior, but do nothing meaningful to stop it.

If they’re so similar, then why in the case of Mouthwashing is Curly often absolved of his complicity in the face of Jimmy’s overwhelmingly awful actions, whereas in the Scum Villain fandom, it’s just as common to see people pin all of SJ’s actions on YQY and vice versa?

Now, there’s a couple obvious reasons for this. For one, Mouthwashing is a horror game and Jimmy very effectively makes himself the antagonist, which lends itself to the interpretation of him as a the monster afflicting the other characters. For another, Jimmy sexually abused a shipmate, which is a particularly despicable crime (although so, I would argue, is child abuse). There’s also the fact that Curly is very physically robbed of agency for most of the game’s runtime, which might make it harder to see his power and agency before that point, but perhaps the most important difference is that to fans, Jimmy is deeply unlikable, and Shen Jiu is not.

Personally, I think the reason a lot of people make Jimmy out to be a monster and Shen Jiu to be tragically misunderstood is simple: it can be uncomfortable to like a bad person.

I don’t think there should be any shame in liking characters who are fucked up people that do horrible things, but I think it chafes at some sensibility within many of us, learned or innate, when we feel such deep emotional connection to a character who’s actions we would normally morally condemn.

I’ve definitely observed that in some parts of the Shen Jiu fandom– it's the kind of sentiment that leads to discounting his canonical actions in favor of fanon. I’ve never found those fanons very compelling because I have never had any discomfort with Shen Jiu’s canonical actions— in fact, him being a despicable if pitiable mess is what drew me to him (I’m typically quite the fucked-up-evil-guy liker). For once, though, I find myself on the other side of this discomfort with Yue Qingyuan.

I was thinking today about how one of the earliest things YQY says to SY!SQQ— his 9th line in the novel— was telling SQQ that LBH is strung up in the woodshed, where SQQ always leaves him after beating him. It implies not just that YQY knows about this singular punishment, but that this is an extended pattern of behavior. To me, YQY seems uncomfortable with the situation, but he does nothing to stop LBH from being abused aside from telling SQQ to “be less hard on him”, even though he’s the only person in the sect above SQQ, and potentially the only one with the authority to stop him.

If Yue Qingyuan knew, did Luo Binghe know the sect leader had found out? Did Luo Binghe know he had been abandoned to his fate?

Like Curly, I think that Yue Qingyuan’s most unforgivable fault as a character was enabling Shen Jiu’s abuse of Luo Binghe and potentially other disciples. I think YQY’s motivations made sense, and I understand the choices he made, but when I think about it for too long I can feel a deep pit in my stomach grow.

Why does YQY’s arguably lesser crime of enabling SJ bother me so much more than SJ’s own direct actions? Perhaps because I still want to see Yue Qingyuan as a good person, whereas Shen Jiu has already declared himself evil. Maybe I’ve been a little bit caught up in our unreliable narrator’s point of view.

Fascinatingly, despite his adoration for Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan cum Shen Qingqiu never (to my recollection at least), blames Yue Qingyuan for SJ’s actions. Instead, he sees YQY as one of SJ’s victims— someone that SJ as good as killed, even if it was LBH’s orders that loosed the arrows.

Shen Qingqiu has a tendency to, for lack of a better term, woobify his favs, and although LBH is by far the most frequent recipient of this treatment, I’d argue that YQY actually receives it more consistently. This is partially because he’s relegated to friendly NPC whereas poor Binghe is the Big Scary Protagonist, but the only time in the whole novel I can think of SQQ seeing YQY as a person capable of harm and fucking up is after YQY’s confession where SQQ puts it together with SJ’s flashbacks, but even then, SQQ sees him more as a cautionary tale for him and Binghe than someone who’s hurt others. Given this narrative bias, I’m honestly surprised* that more of the fandom isn’t simping for YQY too.

Ultimately, I think this discomfort is normal and worthwhile– something to lean into rather than away from. I’d even say it's necessary, should we ever hope to be more media literate than Peerless Cucumber.

*well, I’m not, but that’s a whole piece of fandom history better left untouched

#this one is real stream of consciousness lol #svsss #shen jiu #yue qingyuan #qijiu #mouthwashing spoilers #fish meta #fish rambles

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zyafics · 2 months ago

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hi guys! i wanna hear ur thoughts about what series i should write next. nothing is planned, but i wanna hear my readers' opinions so i can prioritize better <3

note: all of these descriptions i made up on the whim, and may not be the official summary, but it is the gist of the series

BROTHER’S RIVAL | About 12 Parts

Pogue-born Kooks, you and your brother aren't welcome to Figure Eight. Mainly because of Rafe. When your brother is determined to steal the 'King of Kook' title from Rafe, he's going to return the favor by messing with you.

tropes brother's rival, secret relationship, rafe using reader to get back at her brother, porn with a plot

DEAD MAN WALKING | Undetermined Parts

Injured in a shootout, you saved Rafe's life as a medical student. But when he returns, and the wound turns deadlier than initially anticipated, you might be the only person in the world who can save him. But when working together, it reveals more about your—and Rafe's—history, and how exactly it might be intertwined.

tropes mafia boss x doctor, secret identities, reluctant allies, plot twists, high stakes, slowburn

KILLER INSTINCT | Undetermined Parts

There are murders around the city. An unknown assailant goes around killing people without a definitive motive. However, when you and the new boy in town start working together and uncover the patterns of the case, you're starting to piece together that Rafe might be the murderer. Not only that, he also can't seem to remember that he is.

tropes murderer!rafe x psychology student!reader, sheriff's daughter!reader, boy obsessed, plot twists, slowburn

ALL AMERICAN SINNERS | Undetermined Parts

A pact shared between two people, Rafe and you have always relied on each other as lifelines, using each other to hide each other's dirty habits. But when something threatens the stability of this unhealthy dynamic, the extreme length Rafe and you would go to keep it together. And how it might destroy your relationship once and for all.

tropes coke addict!rafe x sex addict!reader, codependent relationship, toxic dynamic, us against the world mentality, porn with a plot

GOOD GIRL GONE WILD | ~ Roughly 8-10 Parts

You're rushing a sorority by deciding to ditch the good girl image in college. But when Rafe needs help in a class, and you need to secure your pledge, Rafe offers his status to help you get into your sorority of choice, for some lessons. Which may or may not turn into something else.

tropes frat!rafe x sorority!reader, good girl turned bad, tutor lessons, sex lessons, jealousy, porn with a plot

FALL FROM GRACE | ~ Roughly 8 Parts

Rafe has always struggled to maintain his father's favor. When his latest antic caused him to be kicked out of the house, Rafe turned to you for safety. However, when an opportunity arises to win back his father's trust, but by hurting you, Rafe has to choose whether he's willing to lose the only person who always accepted him for who he is.

tropes childhood best friends to lovers, i-hate-everyone-but-you rafe, rafe has to hurt reader to make up to his father, slowburn

here's a little poll! you can also send in asks, or ask in the comments, for more clarification if i'm not explaining myself properly (i'm studying rn and deciding to do this on a whim! <3)

#chit chats #zya (fanfic) talks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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pedge-page · 7 months ago

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for your pk poll… I CANT CHOOSE… but i do love sub reader and joel making her piss herself tbh 🫣🫢

The Garden of Peeden

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Notes: We're getting it all. here's a little something to keep everyone happy with PK...for now.

Warnings: PISS KINK, reader and Joel piss on reader, sub!Reader, daddy kink, semi public, assisted masturbation

18+ONLY

- - - -

It’s been 6 weeks since Joel’s started training you to go without holding back, no matter the circumstances. You’ve started getting used to it. That freeing feeling of warmth filling your senses, making your mind go from anxious to relaxed just by releasing.

Today, he has you in a beautiful sun dress, no panties. You’re spread out on top of him with your back against his chest. The two of you slouched on a patio chair as he rubs lazy circles on your clit. The breeze feels amazing, ruffling your dress and blowing cool air on your heat. You’re leaned against him with your head turned towards his. Joel’s strong arm wrapped around your middle to keep you close. He kisses you slowly, sensually, swallowing your little whimpers. All the while brushing his thumb over your pelvis.

“It’s time,” he whispers against your ear.

You nod, feeling shivers traveling over your body. You’d be holding it as he teased you, but now the tremors feel more violent.

“You gonna let go f’me? Paint me a pretty picture.” He gestures to the stone pavement below you. Despite being outside, the beautiful garden surrounding you adds some semblance of privacy. Its colorful array mixed with the outdoor atmosphere makes for the perfect lazy Saturday afternoon piss outside.

“S’okay, I got ya.” He pushes his thumb a little harder on your bladder while his middle and ring finger draw tight circles along your folds. You nod, biting your lips and forcing a steady breath out. It’s the hardest part for sure. It builds and builds and builds inside you. The pressure forcing your hips off of his every so often as you try to hold it in.

No, he told you to relax. Stop flexing your walls to try to starve it off. You close your eyes, unwinding mentally and physically.

And it starts to happen.

A short, practice burst of urine shoots from your slit before trickling out again, slowly building up to a steady stream.

“Oooohhhhhhh. There she is, that’s my good girl. My beautiful girl,” he hums with a grin. His presses his lips to yours. Joel’s hand kneads your pussy over your stream, rubbing your clit messily. Warm piss spills down his wrist and your ass, onto his jeans but he doesn’t care. He loves the sound of your interrupted hissing due to his movements. The pavement crackles as it splatters consistently like a pretty fountain waterfall.

You sigh contently. It’s the best part, by far. You crack as smile and close your eyes again.

He laughs softly. “Ahhh that’s it, so good isn’t it? Making such a pretty mess, baby girl. You like peeing all over yourself n’ Daddy, I can tell. GO on, piss some more.”

You both watch from between your legs as you shoot a particularly strong jet, watching it arc over a sizable distance and landing on a dry part of the stones.

“Wow! Look at that, gettin so strong!” He rubs his palm over you quicker, the stream becoming splotched all over your dress and stomach. You both giggle and kiss once again. He drink your sexy noises as the two of you soak yourselves in hot liquid.

“Ahhhh, baby, your squirtin’ pussy gets me so hard.” He grinds your ass along his harden length trapped underneath his jeans.

It doesn’t take much to read Joel Millers mind. All you’ve left are little trickles here and there of your piss. So you reach between your legs and pull his poor cock out.

“Mmmmm that’s better. Feeling’ that breeze on your pussy feels good on my dick too.” He lazily smirks as you start to fist him.

“Can I put it inside?” You ask.

“Got a better idea.” He grips his cock and sits the two of you back a little more, now your heads propped up against the low back rest. He jerks himself a little, slapping your clit.

You jolt each time his tip smacks your clit. He kisses you between breaths, a game of cat and mouse as he chases your tongue.

“Pull those tits out,” he grunts.

You pull the neckline of your stretchy dress below your breasts just as Joel comes up to cup one.

“M’gonna paint a pretty picture too. Ya ready f’me?”

You nod excitedly and spread your legs even wider for him.

Joel grits his teeth, fisting himself a little before letting out a pained groan. His tip explodes in a fat stream of piss upwards, first hitting your clit then increasing up along your naval and to your breasts.

You giggle and squirm. The warm liquid feels amazing on your cool tits. It smacks your chest then trickles all down your front, soaking your dress and you in the process.

His tongue is caught between his teeth as he moans drunkenly, watching you present yourself fuller for him to ruin with piss.

“Feel that, baby? Daddy loves pissin’ on ya, such a beautiful thing f’me to paint.” “Thank you Daddy! Love your hot piss blanketing me.”

You cup your breasts and glide this tip to slot between your messy folds. His hot, strong stream of pee overwhelms you quickly, spreading down below you and starting to coat his sides and thighs. It’s so much. Way stronger, way more copious than yours was. The chair leaks so much urine, a puddle quickly forming below the two of you.

He starts to just hit your clit. The warm sensation, coupled with its pounding nature quickly sends you in a frenzy of quivers. He snatches your lips just as you begin to cum on his piss. You’re loud now too, forgoing the fact that your backyard can still be overheard by neighbors. Its beautiful. He wants to hoard all your sounds to himself. in time, you’ll be ready to piss yourself around others.

He’s just content covering you in his fluids for his eyes only for now.

When you finish, you pant heavily. He pecks your lips, refusing to let you part from his too much. The two of you are absolutely drenched, But you especially. Your pretty little sun dress now sticks awkwardly to your body, the neckline stretched below your wet tits.

“My beautiful girl,” he hums again into your lips.

His thick fingers begin to stroke between your petals once more.

“Shall we try for round two?”

- - - -

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop

#pedro pascal smut #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fic #PK!Joel #PissKink!Joel #tlou smut #the last of us smut #the last of us fic #last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic

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actuallysaiyan · 2 years ago

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I Just Want To Be The One You Love(Virgin!Naruto x Fem!Reader\Virgin!Sasuke x Fem!Reader)

warnings: virginity loss, unprotected sex, making out, kissing, vaginal play, smutty themes, post-war Naruto and Sasuke pairings: Virgin!Naruto x Fem!Reader and Virgin!Sasuke x Fem!Reader a/n: This is the first post from my poll! I hope you all enjoy! It's been a hot minute since I wrote for either Naruto and Sasuke!

Smut under the cut!

He’s so shy and timid about everything. Especially since you’re a little more experienced than him. But it’s the way you’re so soft and sweet with him that makes him just absolutely melt into your touch.

He never thought he’d be able to have a love like this. Naruto figured he’d probably just end up alone once again despite being the hero. With everything else that has gone on in his life, he never knew to expect such a sweetness that is you.

The man cums within minutes. He looks up at you as you ride his cock, and he’s just a whining mess. Naruto can’t control his noises either, which is no surprise.

Naruto looks up at you, his eyes hooded as the lust takes over him. You two have been kissing and making out for a good while now, and he feels his cock might explode if you don’t show him even the least bit of pleasure. You just don’t want this to end too fast, considering it is his first time.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I’m so lucky.”

You giggle, “I’m the lucky one.”

You slowly maneuver yourself to straddle him. Then you help pull down his pants and boxers. Your eyes widen a bit when you see his length. He’s quite well-endowed. It’s so thick too with such a pretty pink tip. You’re pretty much drooling at just the sight of his erection. He blushes at your reaction, trying to hide his cock.

“Fuck, you’re huge,” you let out.

Naruto chuckles nervously, “I-is that good?”

You nod your head, “Yeah, baby. But I’d love you just the same if you weren’t.”

He feels his heart fill with love. You’re truly an angel to him. You’re always so sweet and so kind, knowing just what to say. You begin smearing the precum that’s leaking out of the tip before you stroke him. Naruto whimpers and his hips buck up for a bit more stimulation.

“You like that, baby?” You ask, cocking your head to the side.

“Fuck yeah…”

His voice is raspy and full of lust. It doesn’t take long for you to strip down and you guide the tip of his cock to your dripping pussy. He’s not sure if he should look as you take his virginity. He worries that just watching your cunt swallow up his cock might make him cum immediately. You giggle at how cute he looks like this.

“You ready?” You question, looking into his hooded eyes to see what he truly wants.

“Uh huh, please.” He pleads softly.

Slowly, you begin sinking down on his cock. The noises coming from Naruto are feral and wild. He’s never felt such warmth like this before. It’s so intense and it’s wet and slippery too. He begins panting as you let him bottom out. The pulsing and squeezing from your walls would definitely be enough to get him to blow his load right here and now.

You begin rocking your hips, tentative at first and then with a bit more vigor. Based on the look on Naruto’s face, you know this isn’t going to last long at all. But you also know that based on his stamina, it shouldn't take long for him to recover and to be able to fuck you for longer.

“So good,” he whines. “So fucking good.”

You giggle softly and lean in to kiss him. The moment your tongues touch, he’s a goner. With loud grunts and desperate moans, Naruto pumps into you. His warm, thick cum begins coating your insides as you help him ride out the rest of his high pleasurably. Eventually, you slow to a stop and lean in to kiss him again.

“I love you, Naruto.” You tell him so gently.

“I love you too,” he rubs his nose against yours. “Can we do it again?”

Sasuke is a bit more brooding after the war. He’s not really sure what he wants. But when you two meet up after he comes home from his walk of atonement, he finds himself completely smitten with you.

He’s definitely nowhere near as experienced as you are, but he doesn’t even let you know that. Any kind of fumbling or slight error on his part, he passes it off as something he wanted to do. It ends up with lots of surprising things for you.

Sasuke lasts a little longer than Naruto, but not by much. When you let him slip into you the first time, he becomes completely addicted to the feeling of you surrounding him.

It’s after a few drinks of sake that you have Sasuke come up to your apartment with you. You’re both a little tipsy, but there’s so much warmth between the two of you. You’ve never seen Sasuke quite like this and it really warms your heart. Once you two reach your bedroom, Sasuke finally takes initiative and he cups your cheek.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for some time now,” he tells you before he presses his lips to yours.

You’re almost breathless at this kiss. He’s so good to you. You know what people think of him, but you’ve never wanted to believe that he was truly an awful person. He’s gone through so much in his life, and you’ve always wanted to just be a friend to him. But now you think you might be something more…no, you know you’re something more.

Within seconds, the two of you are making out fiercely. Teeth clashing and tongues rubbing together, fighting for dominance. Sasuke pushes you onto your bed and he crawls on top of you. You’ve never felt this way before; both like prey and like a lover. It excites you in ways you never thought you’d experience.

“You’re so cute,” Sasuke comments, blushing a little from how intense all of this is.

“You’re so handsome,” you compliment him right back.

Then the kisses turn a little more sweet. Sasuke helps you undress and you help him undress as well. The more of his body you uncover, the more you find yourself becoming aroused. He’s so damn gorgeous. Even with the few scars scattered here and there, you still find him to be so breathtaking.

Sasuke leans against you, kissing your lips with hunger. His fingers gently part your wet folds, and he teases your clit to make you whine. You let him play with your pussy for a few minutes, just getting you even more wet than you were just from the kissing. Then he looks into your eyes to make sure you have no regrets. When he sees the love you hold for him, his heart melts.

“C-can I…” he tries to figure out the right words for this.

You cup his cheek, “Of course, Sasuke. I’m yours.”

He doesn’t need to hear anything else. He spreads your thighs and begins stroking his long cock. You’ve never seen one that size before. You wonder if all the Uchiha men were blessed as well as Sasuke is. Then he spits into his palm and spreads it over the already leaking tip.

There’s a moment of silence before he slowly pushes into you, and already his head is whirling from the sensations of your tight walls pulling him in. They pulse in such a way that he needs to control his breathing so he doesn’t cum right away. Sasuke wants to last long enough to get you to cum.

“Is that okay?” He asks, and you nod eagerly.

“It feels so good,”

He can tell considering your walls are just fluttering around him wildly, trying to accommodate for his large size. His hand grips your hip and he begins pumping into you. It’s a little sloppy and inexperienced at first, but eventually he finds his rhythm. It becomes a little too much when you moan for him and begin cooing words of love.

He lets his thumb come to rub your swollen clit, and he tries to angle his hips perfectly so that you can feel the head of his cock brushing up against the sweet spot inside of you. It’s when you start squeezing his cock with those tight and warm walls that he knows he can’t last much longer.

“Hnnng…gonna cum!” He cries out and holds onto you tighter.

Sasuke snaps his hips faster and sloppier until he’s cumming deep inside of you. With every spurt of cum, he pumps into you harder and deeper. Eventually, he just slumps on top of you. When he feels your hands in his hair and your lips on the top of his head, he knows he’s in love with you.

“We can do it again,” Sasuke suggests.

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catsfor2 · 2 years ago

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hit me, pt 1

word ct.: 2.3k, largely unedited gen: boxer!ellie x med student!reader au!!!, reader is a barista, ellie is mean (she has her reasons), reader is a pretty princess femme because i said so, also ellie says dyke (because i said so)(but not in this chapter lol) warnings: swearing/language, age diff (reader is 19 ellie is 23), drug use (alcohol), eventual smut, angst

a/n: this chapter is a kinda slow start, i mostly just wanted write some establishing dialogue type stuff. i want this to be a medium length ish fic. definitely nsfw in the future. i’m also going to (attempt) to have a more organized pov switching order? idk maybe each part switches between ellie and reader or maybe 1 switch per part? idk. lmk what u think. if you like my writing pls interact on this post or even visit my blog to submit a hc, drabble, or fic idea! requests are open

a/n 2: also, thank you sm to everyone who voted on the poll!!! will totally be doing more of those in the future

part 1.5

You were so drunk. Like, so fucking drunk. Legs wobbling and cheeks flushed, an idiot could notice how intoxicated you were. Hanging off of your friends and approaching strangers. A mess, is what you looked like. You'd learned to restrict yourself over the years, as your friends have informed you of all of the humiliating behaviors you exhibit drunk.

You weren't too worried about anything, though. It's your first night drinking in a while—you're up at university now. Rarely do you get to join Dina and her friends by actually consuming the alcohol—you usually just pass. However, tonight, you wanted to get fucked up. You wanted to forget. Fortunately Dina's a good host, and an even better friend. If anyone was going to be holding your hair back at the end of the night, it would probably be her.

The very first thought you had was holy shit, this is not Dina holding my hair. You shouldn't say 'holding', really. Whoever's hand was in your hair was gripping, hard.

"Shut up, you're fine. Here—drink. No, not sip, drink." A voice directs, bringing a cold cup of water to your mouth.

The first sip is disgusting, the stale tastes of alcohol on your tongue washing down your throat.

Oh Christ, is this one of Dina's friends? How do I not remember her? And her...huge shoulders?

"Seriously—fuckin' drink or I'll make you." The same voice says, meaner and harsher. This person talked to you like you were an animal.

The hand that clutches your hair lets go, and surprisingly gently, rakes over your head a few times to smooth it out. You absentmindedly lean into the touch, too far past the threshold to stop yourself.

The hand moves to your nape as you start to drink, cradling. Her fingers just barely reach around the sides of your neck.

You hesitantly gulp about half the glass of water before the brunette puts it back on the counter.

"Ewwww, is that sink water?" You whine, your face scrunching.

"What, it's not good enough for you? You want Fiji? Fuck is the problem?"

Her tone sobers you up for a moment, locking your eyes to the tiles. You couldn't look at someone while they yelled at you.

Slouching on the floor while she hovers over you, you pull the edges of your dress over your folded legs, only just now feeling the bareness. Your hands stay clutched in the fabric.

"Are you done now?" She says. Rudely, you think. She could've meant 'done' with your vomiting or with your complaining, you weren't quite sure.

"Yeah...I think so. Thank you. Um, really, thank you." You try to say, still feeling stuffy and weighted from all the liquor in your system. She looks at you so intensely you turn your head to escape her gaze.

"Dina asked me to." She takes a damp towel and wipes around your face. "Plus you're so drunk it's a fuckin' liability."

"I'm—m'sorry. Who are you? I've never seen you at one of Dina's...things...before, I don't think."

Her hand stills, wet rag still in it. Her eyes hold yours for a moment, closely and intensely, before darting away again.

“Yeah, you haven’t.”

She rolls up her sleeves before wiping over your collarbones and you spot her tattoo. It takes your gaze up the length of her arms, and you simply let your eyes wander over her figure for as long as you want.

"You should probably throw that dress away. Y'got shit all over it now." She states.

Well.

You look down and see that the moisture on your dress has made it completely see through. Your arm moves to drape across your chest to cover your vibrantly patterned bra and your breasts awkwardly spilling out of it.

"Come on, that's jus mean," you complain. "...ignoring me like that. Please, please, pleeease tell me your name..." Your voice is drunken, high-pitched, and definitely annoying. The woman in front of you grimaces.

"No."

"Why not?" You giggle a bit. "I'll tell you mine."

It was kind of your specialty. Annoying people. Her eyebrows shift downwards. No response.

"Hm, ok. I'll ask Dina." You say, a tiny smile trying to break through your face.

"Do it. See if I give a fuck."

"Woooaahhhh, somebody's got a bee in her bonnet! Who peed in your wheaties?"

"You did. And you're at least sixty-fucking-years-old for even saying that," She tosses the rag behind her and puts her hands on her knees to stand all the way up. "y/n."

Your face lights up an in instant. You scramble to your feet.

"How--how do you know mine? But I can't know yours!?"

"Just how it is. I have to go now." She says, throwing her khaki jacket on her back.

"But--hey, hold on, I don't have a ride home anymore! Everyone's left by now!"

"Not my problem. Call your fucking boyfriend or something." She barks, hands now defensively in her pockets.

A laugh promptly bursts out of you, and you impulsively reach out to grasp her shoulder. Your fingers brush over the collar of her jacket.

"O-kay," you quip, "hold on--cause, I don't have a boyfriend, silly," Her eyes bore into yours as your face draws even nearer. "I'm a lesbian..." You whisper giddily, as if it's something only she gets to know.

Her eyes flit away from you as her mouth purses and flattens, like she's contemplating on how to deal with you. In a moment her pupils are locked with yours again.

"Wow, so fucking special, aren't you, princess?" Her last word is a little less bold, less certain than the rest, like it wasn't entirely intentional. You blush, full body and wholeheartedly.

Princess. Princess?

Your grin widens uncontrollably, and you feel yourself giving in to the hazy pleasure of the alcoholic buzz in your blood. Your hands palm your own thighs as you speak.

"Oh...princess? I like that. I've never—I've never been...called that, before. Before now." You breathe out, eyes fluttery and tired.

She didn't snap at you immediately this time. No, instead, she begins to smile. A lazy, smug, confident smile that burns your stomach.

"You're gonna be real fuckin' embarrassed when you remember this tomorrow. Fuckin'—prissy bitch like you acting all shameless."

“You don’t know who I am,” You mutter, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "and this? This is not shameless. Do you wanna see shameless? What that actually looks like?" You ask, voice quiet on purpose.

"...No. Fuck no." She denies, that microscopic crack of a smile still evident on her face.

She's very pretty when she smiles. Sooooo pretty.

"You swear way too much, you know that?"

"No, I didn't fucking know that."

Her eyes don't leave yours, like she's waiting for something. Finally, something breaks.

The hand that was resting on the doorknob jiggles it open and she stands in the frame for a moment, just staring. Her compelling eyes force your words out.

"Ok but before you go. One question. Just—just one question.”

"What."

You freeze. What did you want to ask her? You remember it being something about her age.

“Well fucking spit it out. I’m trying to leave.” She urges.

Before you can even recall, another thought appears in your head.

"Okay, okay. Call me princess again? Pleeease? Just once before you go. I don't even want a ride anymore.” You take a glance at the bathroom. “I'll just...sleep… here." You whisper, a little upset thinking about how after this woman leaves, you'll be standing in this bathroom, alone.

"..."

She steps forward, mostly expressionless, pulling up the straps of your dress to cover some cleavage you didn't realize was showing. Your face heats shamefully.

She lets out a sigh.

"Dina has a pull-out in the basement. There's another bathroom down there too if y'need it. Go to bed," Her eyes scan you up and down so quickly you almost miss it. "and finish that glass of water."

With that, the door shuts behind her.

And she's gone.

_____________

You did end up talking to Dina about the person you met last night. Around noon, of course, as you both had slept through the entirety of morning.

"Wait...that's Ellie? Are you fucking serious?!" You clamor, barely comprehending what she’s saying.

The person who helped you out last night knew you, and it also happened to be Ellie. You wanted to hit yourself. Knock yourself out. Be unconscious.

"I thought you knew! She doesn't look that different."

"Dina. I haven't seen her in four years, cut me some slack. And she has like—a whole new energy now. It's....different."

She smirks at you. "...Different?"

"I—yes, different. I know I'm not wrong. I'm not."

The last time you saw Ellie, she was 19 and you were 16. You hadn't come out yet, and hung off of your asshole boyfriend's arm for as long as you could when he was around. Ellie hated the guy. You were insufferable, but Dina must've seen through it enough to befriend you. You’re eternally grateful.

Ellie is a family friend of Dina's, so naturally your paths crossed pretty frequently back then. Until two days before her 20th birthday, when she ran away only with plane tickets and a plan to 'elope' with her girlfriend of three months. They broke up a month later.

You haven't seen her since—excluding last night, of course.

"Oh—oh, fuuuuck. Dina, I know why she was so mean to me last night." Your hands reach up and you drop your face into them.

"She was mean? You didn't say that, the hell?"

"Yes—she was mean, Jesus Dina, keep up. Listen I didn't even recognize her. Like, at all. I kept asking for her fucking name, like, over and over and over again! Oh god, she probably thinks I'm such an asshole." You sulk, rerunning the things you said and did last night in your head.

"Yeah, she totally does."

"No! shut up! You're not helping. How was I supposed to--? She has these arms now, she didn't have those three years ago! And her shoulders? They're so much...wider!" You exclaim, bewildered by this entire situation.

"Hah, ok--"

You cut Dina off.

"And the tattoo, oh my god the tattoo! She's basically unrecognizable!"

"Calm the fuck down, perv. She got a new job three years ago and it just changed her a bit. She does a lot of...physical stuff, now. But she's basically the same, I swear."

"Yeah? Ok. That's...reassuring, I guess..." You say, half truthful. Dina looks at you with something you can't identify. "so...what job."

"Uhhhh—well, not my place to say. You'll...definitely have to ask her. Yourself." Dina winces, trying her best to not let out more info than she should.

"Hm. This is getting...less and less reassuring as you go on. But, thank you Dina."

"So you want her number?" She grins, holding up her phone.

"Are you kidding me." You reject. "I do not text first. You know that."

“You freak, not for that,” Dina shakes her head. “but so you guys can fucking make up and not hate each other, maybe?”

She laughs before getting right on her phone and looking for Ellie's contact.

"I'll just send your number to hers then, jeez."

"No, don't do that either. If Ellie's all upset I couldn't tell who she was, she can be a big girl and tell it to my face. And I don't even care if you tell her I said that. Honestly."

Dina looks up at you. Eyes unmoving and apathetic.

"Both of you are so fucking dramatic. Don't think I'm on your side or her's at this point. I’m completely out of this.”

She throws her phone on the couch before tossing her whole body on it as well. She grabs the remote to turn on the TV.

“Oh shit,” Dina laughs.

“What?”

“Ellie’s gonna fuckin’ flip when she finds out you’re gay now,” Dina says with an acute smile.

I already, accidentally, drunkenly told her. Problem fucking solved, you think.

“Ok? Why’s that?”

“Oh, no reason. Just, pure shock, probably.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” You respond lightly. “…I guess she still pictures the me from highschool, right?”

“Is that your way of asking me if she still hates your ex-boyfriend? Cause yeah, trust me, she does—”

An impeding stream of knocks cut her off. You both whip your heads towards the sound.

The door swiftly opens and in steps Ellie.

Nobody speaks for a few seconds.

“…I have coffee. Thanks for leaving the door unlocked, morons,” Her leg kicks backwards and loudly shuts it. “I hope you get fuckin’ robbed one of these times.”

She walks ahead and hands a hot cup to Dina, and then, to you.

Her thumb rubs along the inside of the carabiner clipped to the loop of her jeans. There’s a smidge of silence before she looks up, only really looking at you.

“I need to show you something.”

And that’s all she says. No context, no elaboration.

“Uh—now?” You question, still in the beat up makeup from last night and hair sticking in all different directions. You couldn’t go out in public like this.

“Uh, yes, now.” She unclips the carabiner and spins it around her pinky. “Let’s go.”

“But what if—what if I have plans?”

“Do you?”

“Well no, but I’d like to at least—”

“Jesus Christ both of you are like this? Here: your hair looks great, your makeup is perfect, your boobs are huge. Can we fucking leave now?” She tells you, completely causing you to forget anything you were saying.

In a moment of panic, you glance at Dina.

Her eyebrows and shoulders only give a limp shrug, as if to say, ‘I don’t know what this is about, but you’re on your own!’

Naturally.

“Yeah, we can leave,” you take a sip of your coffee. “…Ellie.”

The second you say her name, her head is turned to you. Her eyebrows creasing and eyes unwilling to break your gaze. So now you know what the stare was about.

You wonder if your cluelessness last night genuinely hurt her. Made her feel unwanted. Unknown. You felt like shit. You just hope she doesn’t feel similar as you do right now.

She says nothing.

And in that silence, with Ellie cutting in front to get the door for you, you leave.

#ellie x reader #ellie fic #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #lesbian #tlou fic #tlou #tlou part 2 #catsfor2

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sequinsmile-x · 26 days ago

Text

The Call

Movie night was, of course, Penelope’s idea.

AKA - the one where a classic horror film makes Emily, who is freshly back from Paris, panic, and it changes things between her and Aaron forever.

-x-

Hi besties,

Happy Halloween to those who celebrate it! I hope you all have fun and eat all the candy your heart desires.

I did a little poll for what Halloween fic you guys wanted, and the results were so close I decided to do both!! This one won so I've done it first, and the cute family one with them in matching costumes will hopefully go up tomorrow!

I hope you enjoy this, and as always please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: brief/non specific references to PTSD

Words: 3.9k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Movie night was, of course, Penelope’s idea.

Ever since Emily’s return from Paris, from the dead, both Penelope and Dave were going to great lengths to bring the team back together, to erase the pain from the last year. It’s why she agrees to go to movie night in the first place, even though it’s truly the last thing she wants to do.

She’d only been home for a handful of weeks. She still felt unsteady, the path beneath her feet uneven and paved with the choices of her past, decisions she refused to call mistakes no matter how much she despised their outcome. She’d done what she had to - both when she was with Ian, and when she was protecting the team, the closest thing she had to a family, from him. Her lack of regret didn’t make any of it any easier to deal with. She hated how her friends looked at her sometimes, how they’d look at her as if they didn’t know her. As if she was still dead and buried to them and they were simply looking at a ghost.

Sometimes, she wondered if she was one. The person she was before all of this long gone, with someone else left in her place.

The only person who didn’t treat her that way was Aaron. He didn’t try and pretend everything was okay like Penelope, or look at her like she was a stranger like she’d sometimes catch Derek doing, a spark of betrayal in his eyes that she knows she’ll have to address one day. Aaron simply just let her be. He would take her lead on everything whether it was at work or in their personal lives outside of the BAU. He was kind to her, achingly so, and it only made her one and only regret in this entire mess hurt even more.

Before Sean McAllister had called her, before his warning about Ian had torn her life to shreds, the comfort and safety she’d found in the last few years ripped apart at the seams, she and Aaron had been close to something more than simply being friends.

She helped him after Haley died. Did whatever she could to make him and Jack as content as they could be. She’d cook for them, and go grocery shopping so Aaron didn’t have to deal with crowds of people all going about their day as if his world hadn’t changed forever. She’d spend weekends with them at diners that served smiley face pancakes and then at the zoo, holding Jack on her hip as she let him repeat all the facts he knew about the lions, his fingers curled around a necklace that had since been sold in the liquidation of her estate after her death.

Sometimes, she would catch Aaron looking at her, a glint in his eyes she thought she knew the name of at the time, the same feelings she’d only come to terms with when she found him in hospital after Foyet attacked him. She didn’t know when she’d fallen in love with him. It had happened slowly, taking over bit by bit until she didn’t remember how it felt to not love him. It was only when he was missing, fear a vice around her heart, that she dared to name it. All pretence that it was nothing more than a crush left shattered around her on his living room floor, the pieces of it mixed in with his drying blood and the smell of iron in the air.

She waited. Ignored every moment that felt like it could be their moment, because the last thing she wanted was to be a rebound. A place of misplaced comfort for him after the death of the woman he’d once promised forever to.

Eventually, when he was doing better. When his smile was real and she’d have to clench her fists to stop herself from pressing her thumbs into his dimples, she felt like it might just be their time. Before she could ask him on a date, he beat her to it. His request coming out as a fumbled demand, his eyes wide and cheeks warm with embarrassment as he admitted he hadn’t asked anyone out since he was 16 years old. If anything, it made her love him even more, and she kissed his cheek and told him she’d love a date with him.

Sean called the next day, and her life as she knew it came to an end. She pulled away from him, ignored the look in his eyes when she cancelled their date, and she told herself it was the right thing to protect him and Jack.

Her one regret now she was home, now she was trying to pick up the pieces of who she was and build someone new out of them, was that she’d never kissed him properly. That she’d never pressed her lips against his and found out if it was more than she’d imagined. If their lips would slot against each other like she thought they would, if their noses could squish against each other’s cheeks. She regretted it, because she’d missed her chance. He hadn’t brought up the date they never had, the couple they could have been, and she couldn’t bring herself to do it herself. Couldn’t bear the rejection now he knew the worst thing she’d ever done, his perspective of who she was forever changed by the person she’d actually always been, even if he hadn’t known those parts of her.

She could settle for being his friend. Could accept that was all they’d ever be, but she’d never stop regretting not taking the leap when she had the chance.

She jumps a little when she hears a knock on the passenger window of her car, and she rolls her eyes when she sees Aaron standing outside, a smile on his face as she unlocks the doors.

“You were in your own little world,” he says as he climbs into the car, his smile turning into a teasing smirk, “I was stood there long enough I started to think I’d have to walk to Dave’s.”

She chuckles dryly and raises her eyebrow at him as she watches him click his seatbelt into place, “That’s still an option if you continue to mock your designated driver for the evening.”

His car had broken down, much to his annoyance, and he’d originally said he wasn’t going to go to movie night as a result. She’d immediately offered to drive him, a brief reflection of another time when she’d made the same offer, because she found herself unwilling to spend the evening without him. He hadn’t taken much persuading, although Dave had teased him a little and called him a ‘passenger princess,’ and she was grateful for it, for the comfort his presence brought her in situations where she felt like she had to perform for everyone else.

“You’re right,” he says, his smile not fading, his hands held up in surrender, “I do appreciate you coming to get me.”

She hums as she starts to drive away, “It’s purely selfish really,” she says, smiling as she briefly looks at him, “If you’re not there, who would stop me from snapping spaghetti in front of Dave just to get a reaction?”

He laughs, the sound beautiful and goofy and entirely him, and she feels her heart grow in her chest. She looks back at the road, ignoring what she thinks might be affection in his eyes, convinced she was wrong. “Well, we can’t have that.”

___

He was in love with her.

He’d been desperate to ignore it at first. His attraction to her something that made him feel guilty, the familiar pull in his gut whenever he looked at her, whenever he’d focus on the cut of her jaw and the slope of her neck, quickly turning to irritation aimed at her. He piled it on top of his mistrust of her and her sudden appearance on his team.

As that all faded, disappearing along with his marriage with the signing of divorce papers, leaving just the attraction and something more in its wake. As soon as he started trusting her, he saw everything else he’d been desperately ignoring. Her kindness. Her empathy. Her bravery. How she looked after everyone around her, how she cared for people she loved and the victims of the cases they worked. Everything she did enhanced her beauty, made her more incredible to him, and everything he had found out about her time at Interpol, her time with Ian Doyle, had been no different.

Just when he thought she couldn’t be braver, she had proven him wrong.

He wished so many things were different. He wished she’d spoken to him about it, that she’d given him the chance to help her. He wished he’d asked her out on a date sooner, and that he hadn’t taken her eventual rejection so personally he hadn’t been able to see through it to the panic and fear that laid beneath.

He wished he’d kissed her, just once, so he knew what it felt like.

She was different now she was back. Still her. Still the Emily he loved, but different. Changed by the things she’d been through, by the things she’d died for and the things she’d survived. He knew how it felt to have your life as you knew it torn from under you, how long it took to feel like you were back on an even footing. She’d helped him after Haley died. She’d looked after him and Jack, been whatever they needed her to be. Sometimes he’d watch her, Jack happy and content in her arms as he spoke at her about anything and everything, and he’d find himself impossibly more in love with her.

From the outside, he’s sure they looked like the family he hoped that they one day would be.

He so desperately wanted to pick up where they’d left off. The 9 months without her had been torture, the separation confirming how much he loved her, how much he needed her, but he didn’t want to push her, half convinced that her time away had changed her mind anyway.

He decided he’d follow her lead. He’d happily be her friend for as long as she needed him to be, even if that was forever, as long as he could be in her life in some way.

He’d lived without her before, and he had no intention to do it again.

“So,” Penelope says, clapping her hands together to get everyone's attention, making him jump a little as she draws him out of his thoughts, “Since it’s Halloween tomorrow, I thought we could watch a classic horror,” she pulls a DVD out of her purse and holds it up proudly so they can all see it, the words When a Stranger Calls emblazoned on the front. Penelope sighs when no one else shows the same enthusiasm as her, “Unless anyone else has a better idea.”

“No, that sounds fine,” Dave says, handing her the remote so she can get everything going, “Horror and pasta - the nights in dreams are made of.”

Penelope narrows her eyes at him, “I know you’re making fun of me, but that actually is a perfect evening.”

“I would have thought you weren’t into horror, Baby Girl,” Derek says, his smile amused as he watches her set everything up, “It doesn’t seem like your kind of thing.”

“Usually it isn’t,” she says, sitting next to him on the couch, making a point of sitting as close as possible, “But it’s Halloween, so it has to be done. Plus, it was made in the 70s. It’s not even that scary when you compare it to everything they make these days.”

“I recently saw one set almost entirely in an elevator,” Spencer adds, throwing some popcorn into his mouth, “The twist was predictable.”

JJ rolls her eyes at him, “You think every twist is predictable.”

As the others carry on their discussion, Aaron realises Emily is silent next to him, her shoulders so tight he can practically feel the tension rolling off of her. He looks at her and concern blooms in his gut, her jaw also tense as she stares straight ahead, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

“Are you okay, Em?” He asks, his voice quiet so only she can hear him. She looks up at him and nods, a short sharp thing that does nothing to convince him.

“I’m okay,” she replies, “Just tired I think.”

He doesn’t believe her, but he lets it go, files it away for later, because the others are quietening down as the movie starts. He barely focuses on it, all of his attention on her, how she holds her breath at certain points, anticipating moments in a movie she’s seen before, the awareness of what is to come somehow making it worse. Her shoulders get impossibly tighter, and he looks down to see her picking at her cuticles. He’s about to reach out to stop her, unable to prevent his hand from moving towards hers, when she sucks in a sharp breath. It sounds painful even to him, drowned out by the infamous line of the movie he wasn’t watching.

"We've traced the call... it's coming from inside the house.”

She stands up suddenly, looking as surprised as everyone else, a flash of something close to fear in her eyes as she walks towards the door.

“Do you want us to pause the movie?” Penelope asks, and Emily’s hand grips the door handle tighter than necessary for a moment before she shakes her head.

“No,” she says, a smile Aaron knows is fake painted across her face, “I’ve seen it before. I just need the bathroom.”

She’s gone before anyone can say anything else, her departure from the room forgotten almost immediately as a jump scare happens on the screen. Aaron gives it a couple of minutes before he goes to check on her, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself or her, and he tells Dave when he asks where he’s going that he’s getting another drink. He heads towards the bathroom, but changes direction towards the front door when he feels a cool breeze and sees the door slightly ajar. He finds her outside, sitting on the top step of Dave’s porch, her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. He walks over, makes sure he’s a little heavy footed so she hears him coming, and he sits next to her. He doesn’t say anything. He simply sits there, providing the silent support he would want in her situation.

“You don’t have to check on me,” she says, clearing her throat as she turns to look at him, tears shining in her eyes that they both ignore.

“Yes I do,” he replies, leaving no room for argument, “Was it the movie?”

She scoffs at herself and nods, “It’s stupid really. I’ve seen it maybe a hundred times. I love horror movies,” she blows out a breath, “But the phone calls. The shadow of the intruder,” she shakes her head and wipes a stray tear from her cheek, “It all felt a little…”

“Close to home,” he finishes for her when she drifts off, and she nods in agreement, looking down at her lap instead of at him.

“Yeah,” she says, swallowing thickly, “Every time I…every time I think I’m doing okay something like this happens. It’s like he keeps taking things from me even though he’s dead.”

He knows she doesn’t want platitudes. That she doesn’t want assurances that everything will be okay, so he doesn’t say them. Holds them back no matter how much he wants to comfort her in that way.

“After Foyet, I had to take down every picture in my apartment,” he says, his eyes fixed on her as she looks up at him, her brows furrowed in curiosity, “Just before he attacked me, and I mean seconds before, I saw his reflection in a picture hanging on the wall. When I got back from the hospital I couldn’t look at them. Every reflection, every change in lighting made me panic.”

“What stopped it?”

He smiles sadly, “Well, it still happens occasionally,” he says, his heart aching when her face falls, “But it got better. I started putting them back up bit by bit,” he smiles fondly, “When Jack came home he asked why the apartment ‘looked boring’ so I put most of them back up then. Except the one I saw Foyet in.”

She hums, her eyes closed as she smiles sadly, “So, you’re saying I need to be patient with myself?”

“I’m saying, Em, that healing isn’t linear. And you should never be mad at yourself for some things being harder than they were before, even if it’s something like not being able to watch horror movies anymore.”

She chuckles, the sound wet as it catches in her throat, “Maybe I should stick to Disney movies with you and Jack.”

He reaches out for her, his hand on her shoulder as he squeezes it, hoping it provides some comfort, “You know we’ll never say no to that,” he says, smiling when she nods, “Do you want to go home?”

“I don’t want the others to know,” she says, her lips pressed together, “It would upset Pen if she knew the film she chose upset me…” she sighs, “And I just don’t want anyone to know but you.”

“No one has to know,” he assures her, and she raises her eyebrows at him, something other than sadness flashing in he eyes as she rolls them at him.

“And how would we get around leaving 15 minutes into the movie?”

“I’ll tell them I don’t like horror films and that I’m going to go,” he says, shrugging one of his shoulders, “And you drove me here, so you have to go too.”

She beams at him, her lips pressed together as she tries to contain it, as if it feels at odds with the emotions still tumbling in her gut, “You’d do that for me?”

He nods and squeezes her shoulder one more time, “I’d do anything for you.”

___

When she wakes up in the morning, she has a headache. She groans as she pulls herself out of bed, rubbing her eyes as she blearily walks out of the bedroom. She yawns as she walks through her apartment, desperate to seek out a cup of tea, but she comes to a stop when she smells bacon, her eyebrows furrowing as she steps into the kitchen and finds Aaron standing at her counter, two plates of pancakes and bacon plated up in front of him.

“I was just about to wake you up,” he says, his smile soft as he looks up at her. He’s still in his clothes from the night before, his polo shirt slightly rumpled and his hair askew, “You could do with going grocery shopping,” he raises his eyebrow at her, “But there was enough for me to make pancakes and I found some bacon in your freezer.”

She opens her mouth to talk, but no words come out, the shock of finding him in her kitchen looking so deliciously domestic, stealing her ability to speak. He’d offered to come to her place with her, able to tell from her behaviour she wasn’t sure how she felt about being home alone after the reaction she’d had to the movie, and he said he’d get a cab home when she was ready for him to leave. They’d watched Star Wars together and shared a bottle of wine. She’d eventually felt brave enough to ask him to stay until she fell asleep, barely able to look him in the eye as she asked. He’d agreed without pause, and they’d said goodnight. She’d slept well for once, something she was sure in part was because she knew he’d been there when she fell asleep, and she wasn’t expecting to find him still here this morning.

“Did you go home at all?”

He looks sheepish as she asks the question, avoiding her gaze as he finishes plating up breakfast, “No,” he says, clearing his throat, “I slept on the couch.”

Her eyebrows raise at that, “Aaron, that couch isn’t big enough to sleep on,” she says, looking him up and down, “You must have been so uncomfortable.”

He shrugs, as if it’s nothing, “It wasn’t that bad,” he replies, and she narrows her eyes at him, “Okay, my back is killing me. But I wanted to be here in case you needed me.”

Suddenly, she can see everything she’s been missing since she came back. The love in his eyes, the way he was looking at her. The way he looked after her at every turn, somehow always managing to be whatever she needed him to be.

They were both idiots.

She walks over, not allowing herself to second guess anything, not herself or their feelings for each another, and she cups his cheeks as she kisses him. He tastes like pancake batter and coffee, and something that she knows is just him. It takes him a moment to respond, the longest in her life, but he does. His hands on her back as he pulls her closer, his nose squished against her cheek as he leans into the kiss.

It answers every question they’d both ever had, and creates more - like how had they lived without this for so long? Why had they delayed what now felt inevitable?

She pulls away when breathing becomes necessary, and she rests her forehead against his, completely unsure what she should say, “I…”

“I think we’ve both been waiting a long time to do that,” he says, cupping her cheek as her hands drift down his chest, eventually landing on his hips.

“Yeah,” she replies, her tongue peeking out to lick her lower lip, chasing the flavour of him, “I think we have,” she stamps he lips against his again, unable to stop herself, the glass broken now she’d done it, “We should talk.”

He nods and kisses her, his hand tangling in her hair, “Good thing I made breakfast,” he says, smiling at her like she’d hung the moon and the stars, as if she’s the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in her oversized t-shirt and pyjama shorts, “We can eat and talk about everything,” he tucks her hair behind her ear, “But, I think we’ll be on the same page about a lot of things.”

She smiles and rests her forehead against his, “I think we will be,” she smiles, happiness flooding through her chest, “I was going to tell you that I have a spare bedroom, in case you ended up sleeping over in future to save your back,” she chuckles when his eyes go wide, internally cursing himself for the unnecessary back pain, “But I have a feeling you won’t be needing it,” she runs her fingers through his hair, flattening it out, “The mattress in my room is much better anyway.”

He kisses her to stop himself from saying he loves her then and there, and she does the same, pouring everything she doesn’t have the words for yet into it.

She loved him, and he loved her too, and for now, just knowing that would be enough for them both.

#hotchniss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron x emily #hotchniss fan fic #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #hotchniss fanfiction

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baronfulmen · 2 months ago

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TIME LOOP POLL ASSUMPTIONS:

You have a few days warning and can do some reasonable prep before the loop starts.

You can start the loop on any day of the week, any time in the year.

You're going to be in the time loop for about a hundred years from your point of view, regardless of how long or short the loop is.

Randomness is minimized, so while there's some butterfly effect stuff for the most part everything will happen the same way every time even on a longer loop.

You may suffer some mental effects over time due to a time loop being a very strange thing to go through, but the loop resetting magically helps you recover from trauma (may take multiple loops). So if you die a bunch it won't leave you with a pile of phobias and stuff, but dying is still traumatic in the short term so killing yourself to reset isn't a thing you would want to do often.

The longest option on the poll is the longest you can do, otherwise choose the closest one to what you would want.

Benefit of shorter loops: Makes it easier to plan, means that the prep you do ahead of time can guarantee you're set up well for the whole loop. If you mess up and end up badly injured or in jail you don't have to tough it out for long. You can actually do the classic time loop thing of learning when little things will happen around town. If you want to do something crazy that will take multiple tries, you can pull it off easier. If you have a menstrual cycle you can make sure that just doesn't come up while in the loop. Never have to do laundry (or some other chores) again. Put off shit you don't want to deal with until just after the loop and you'll never have to deal with it.

Benefits of longer loops: Less repetition means better mental health probably. Work on larger projects. Make plans with people. Travel further before getting reset. Include a holiday or event without immediately getting sick of it. More time to build relationships, although that could also be bad in some ways since it would be worse when the reset hit. I think the longer loop has fewer benefits but they're bigger benefits - the travel one alone could be huge.

#time loop #temporal anomaly #time travel #groundhog's day #happy death day #edge of tomorrow #palm springs #the map of tiny perfect things

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polyamory-and-pot · 6 months ago

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Results are in because I messed up and forgot to change the length of some of the polls!

Starting with my first poll.

Plural Tags

There were 134 votes on the plural tags poll. Of those votes

81.4% were pro-endo

13.5% were endo-neutral

5.2% were anti-endo

Next up were system tags and dissociation tags. There were a total of 32 votes on this poll and of those votes

46.9% were endo-neutral

28.1% were anti-endo

25% were pro-endo

That one was pretty divided. Which I didn't expect for these next two but I can be wrong. Next up we've got DID/OSDD tags. There were 48 votes on this poll and of those votes

45.9% were anti-endo

41.7% were endo-neutral

12.5% were pro-endo

Wow. I was not expecting that divide to be so close. I watched the poll and for a while anti-endo and endo-neutral were tied for first. Now our final poll was Endo tags. There was a total of 30 votes on this poll and of those votes

83.3% were pro-endo

10% were anti-endo

6.7% were endo-neutral

Of the 244 votes we received across all the polls

148 votes (61%) were pro-endo

41 votes (17%) were anti endo

55 votes (22%) were endo-neutral

Now to my next segment of breakdown: Ages

Of the 148 votes that were pro-endo

52 votes (35%) were minors

96 votes (65%) were adults

Of the 41 anti-endo votes

16 votes (39%) were minors

25 votes (61%) were adults

Of the 55 endo-neutral votes

15 votes (27%) were minors

40 votes (73%) were adults

Of all the 244 votes received

83 votes (34%) were minor

161 votes (66%) were adults

Do not follow me based off of this post. These are the results I got from my polls, they do not reflect my views.

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palfriendpatine66 · 21 days ago

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Political Obikin Smut distractions are currently what’s holding me together

Anakin couldn’t have been asleep long when something had him stirring, his heavy lidded eyes reluctantly peeling open. He discovered exactly what that something had been when he rolled over to see a quick flash of a blue screen disappear under the pillow.

“Hey!” He reached out to grab the phone away from Obi-Wan’s hands only to be scratched by the low jagged edges of nails that had nervously been chewed and torn throughout the evening. “You said there was no sense getting worked up over counts until the polls closed.”

Obi-Wan sniffed haughtily, not one to appreciate his own words turned against him. “Early trends can indicate-“

“Current trends here indicate you worrying yourself into another ulcer,” Anakin interrupted before he was subjected to a full lecture. “Come on,” he reached for the phone once more, not surprised to see rows of statistics and reports stretched across the screen. “Give it up. You can check it once there’s something to know.”

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes and reluctantly handed over his phone, probably plotting to steal it back once Anakin dozed off once more. “I can’t help it. I did try to sleep.”

“I know,” Anakin sighed. Obi-Wan had been a mess the whole month leading up to the election. It was all he could think about, a constant worry that had moved from the background to the forefront of his mind. If only…

“Let me take your mind off it?” He suggested archly, letting his touch drift down his husband’s back until he was holding the curves of his ass like they were something dear - because they were.

“I’m hardly in the headspace right now, Anakin, all I can think about is margins of error and -“

“Let me try?” Anakin cut him off before hard statistics entered into the equation and chased away his awakening arousal. “Stop me if it isn’t working. Let me give you something else to think about. Let me make you feel good.”

He’d started kneading Obi-Wan’s ass as he spoke, greedily digging into the soft give of flesh. Inadvertently he’d begin rocking his hips against Obi-Wan’s thick, warm thigh. His husband didn’t seem to mind, though, his voice suddenly rough against his ear. “You always make me feel good.”

A wet flick over his ear sent shivers racing down Anakin’s spine, and then with a sharp flash teeth and his cock was fully hard so fast he was dizzy.

Anakin’s long fingers dipped beneath Obi-Wan’s waistband and pulled him out, caressing his length and hitting all the right spots with the ease of familiarity, finding he had no patience for drawing it out.

It wasn’t a time for finesse, he had a goal to accomplish. This was about giving Obi-Wan what he needed; distracting his body so his mind could relax. And that meant not giving him a second to think of anything else.

Obi-Wan was already panting, soft little huffs that heated Anakin’s neck, when he reached between them to free Anakin’s needy cock. He let out a low moan and closed his eyes as though savoring the moment their lengths slid against each other, lashes springing back open again when Anakin spat between them and rubbed the wetness over them both, working them over in tandem as best he could.

Obi-Wan’s hips twitched forward and the silken drag of his searing arousal over Anakin’s own made up for any shortcomings in technique as he tried to adjust his hold to jerking two cocks at once.

“Is it good?” Anakin gasped.

“Of course, baby,” Obi-Wan reassured him, somehow working his hand into the mix to roll Anakin’s heavy balls in his warm palm. “Always so good for me.”

Anakin spilled between them, shooting his load over Obi-Wan’s stomach, his arm, his cock, as he continued to thrust into Anakin’s grasp and slid over his pulsing, throbbing length, now covered in warm spend. Anakin’s grip tightened as he cried out and continued to stroke up and down with almost unnerving intensity until Obi-Wan’s release followed.

They stayed pressed together, their sharp pants hot against each other, as was the mix of sweat and come that slowly ran in rivulets where it would while their breathing returned to normal.

When Anakin felt like his heart was no longer at risk of bursting out of his chest with the slightest movement he turned to his side, stretched his arm out along the floor beside the bed, and felt for the shirt he had dropped somewhere around there when he got into bed. He barely managed to reach the fabric with the very tips of his fingers and had to slowly scrunch it closer toward him before he could scoop it up.

Victorious, he turned back to clean up the mess he’d made of his husband, only to find him reaching for his phone once more.

“What are you doing?” Anakin demanded. “You were all relaxed!”

“Polls are closed,” Obi-Wan explained with a frown even as he patted Anakin’s cheek in distracted thanks.

Anakin sighed and slipped Obi-Wan’s glasses into place so he didn’t have to squint while he watched the numbers flash as they updated across his screen.

#may I offer you some smut in this trying time?#help me obikin smut you’re my only hope #smutty political obikin #in which I am Obi-Wan #obikin

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