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urmum-lovesme · 20 days ago

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The Globe

pairing: Biker!Rafe Cameron x Stripper!Reader

summary: Rafe and Y/n both work at ‘The Globe’, the best strip club on the island, known for their famous ‘globe of death’ performances. Although their relationship is meant to be strictly professional, they can’t seem to deny the tension that lingers between them one night after they perform…

a/n: So I saw these two videos on TikTok of these girls in the globe of death, and It had me thinking, that's so Rafe x Reader get out. Especially with all the screen time he gets in season 4 with his bike 😫. This is my first smut tho so please don't murder me.

Here's the Link to the Inspo! => 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

warnings: !SMUT! basically porn with a plot, reader is a stripper, reader is wearing barely any clothing, Strip club, dangerous motorcycle riding, the globe of death, pole dancing, aerial hoop dancing, reader is a tease, making out, nudity, oral sex (male receiving), spitting, hair pulling, handjob, fingering, dirty talk, begging, praise kink, dom!Rafe, p in v, choking, unprotected sex, rough sex, mentions of cum, degrading terms.

The hum of the club was already starting to build. Neon lights flickered along the walls, casting dim glows over the velvet-draped walls. In the dressing room, Yn sat at the mirror, applying the final touches of her makeup. She powdered her face carefully, making sure every detail was perfect. Her lips were a shade of pink, glossy and sparkling under the lights of her vanity, just the right amount of shine to catch attention. Her hot pink two piece clung to her skin, sure to attract eyes with the material clinging to her skin, pushing her tits up, which she brushed over with highlighter.

‘The Globe’ was legendary, not just for the flashing neon lights that beckoned to the island’s nightlife but for its reputation as the best in town. It had earned its fame not through ordinary striptease acts, but through its center stage: the Globe of Death, an enormous metal sphere. Inside, motorcycles roared, their tires skimming the metal walls whilst in the center of it all stood the performers—suspended in the air, spinning in a dance. The act was dangerous, thrilling, and hypnotic, drawing crowds from all over the island. Tonight, the club was packed, as it always was on a weekend. The pulsating beats of the music filled the air, mingling with the scent of alcohol and sweat.

A sharp knock at the door broke Y/n’s focus.

Her hand hesitated, lipgloss in mid-air, she didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Rafe.

Her lips tightened into a thin line as she set the gloss applicator down against her lips carefully, her eyes still fixed on her reflection. She didn’t want him to know how much his presence affected her, even when she fought against it.

“Come in”

She said, her voice soft but clipped, betraying nothing. The door creaked open, and Rafe stepped inside. His silhouette was framed by the hallway lights, tall and confident. The leather jacket and body armour strapped to his chest made him appear every bit the part of the club’s star rider. His gaze flicked over her, lingering a moment too long, before he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“Big night”

He asked, eyes lingering on her body, Yn met his gaze through the mirror, her expression neutral.

“As usual.”

But Rafe didn’t move. His eyes were intense, almost predatory, studying her in a way that made her pulse quicken. “You know,” he began, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone,

“Been thinking, maybe tonight, we take it a little further…”

Yn’s fingers gripped the makeup brush now in her hand pulling it back from her cheek, her heartbeat echoing in her ears. She didn’t want to admit how much that suggestion stirred something deep inside her.

“Beyond the usual routine?”

She asked, her voice curious. Rafe appeared pleased at her interest, stepping closer, his arms folding.

“What’s the point of doing things the same every night, Yn? We both know we could make it more… exciting.”

The words hung in the air, charged with unspoken meaning, and Yn’s breath caught in her throat. There it was again- the unrelenting tension between them. They both knew they wanted to push the boundaries, but neither one was ready to admit just how far they were willing to go. Yn arched her brow as she caught his reflection in the mirror, her lips pressing together as she placed the brush down onto the vanity. She expected him to talk, but the weight of his silence forced her to finally glance at him through the glass. Rafe’s arms were still crossed, his jacket straining over his biceps as he leaned casually against the doorframe. He let the moment stretch before finally speaking.

“I want you to start on the floor tonight.”

She paused as she blinked at his reflection, they’d never started with her on the floor before, she was always hung up on her hoop, body curved in tune with the music. She raised her brow.

“Start on the floor?”

His smirk grew as he took a step into the room, his voice calm but with an edge of challenge.

“In the cage on the floor. Before I start riding.”

Yn stayed quiet for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she watched him through the mirror. He stayed rooted behind her now, his arms still crossed and his dark eyes locked on hers, unreadable and unrelenting. The tension in the small dressing room thickened, buzzing like static electricity.

Without a word, she turned in her seat, the plush hot pink fluff of the wide stool brushing against her thighs as she faced him fully. She had to look up at him, her fake lashes fluttering as her gaze traveled upward to meet his. Her head was level with his abs, and the faint scent of leather and motor oil clung to him, and she could smell his cologne mixing with the smell.

Her gaze dipped lower, catching the chunky, decorated belt buckle that drew her attention. Slowly, Yn raised her hand, her fingers brushing against the metal, tracing over the ‘R’ in its center before gliding her skin over the worn edges and grooves of the design. The act was deliberate, her touch light but intentional.

“And why do you think that’s a good idea?”

She asked softly, her voice carrying a hint of challenge. Rafe didn’t move, his smirk unwavering, he knew exactly what game she was playing, she’d been doing it for months now.

“Large crowd tonight, you on the floor while I circle around you will bring more money,” a shadow of a grin on his face as he continued, “I know you’d do anything for money- Sugar.”

His eyes looked down at her as he spoke, the name resting around her neck on a sparkling silver chain slipping past his lips. She tilted her head, her fingers lingering on the buckle as her lips curved into a faint smirk of her own.

“And what happens if your timing’s off?”

“My timing’s never off.”

He said, his voice low, almost a growl as he took a step closer, leaning slightly so she was almost eye-to-eye with him. Yn’s lips twitched upwards as her fingers drifted from the buckle to the belt loop just beside it. With deliberate slowness, she hooked her finger into it and tugged him closer, her gaze never leaving his. The move caught him off guard for only a second, but it was enough for her to notice the way his jaw tensed. Rafe shifted his weight slightly, and for the first time, his composure wavered. He licked his lips, a quick flick of his tongue that gave away more than he probably intended. She tilted her head, her lashes fluttering as she blinked up at him, her finger still hooked in his belt loop.

“What if I say no?”

She asked, her voice was delicate, but Rafe’s eyes darkened, and for a moment he just stared at her, fighting against the urge to shove her back against the vanity. He ducked his head down slightly, closing the distance between them until their faces were mere inches apart as he shook his head at her and responded,

“You won’t”

He murmured, his voice smooth and confident. Yn’s breath hitched, her hand tightening ever so slightly on his belt loop. She couldn’t look away from his eyes, the intensity in them pinning her in place. Rafe’s voice dropped even lower, almost a whisper now, as if the words were meant for her ears alone.

“You like the adrenaline.”

Her pulse quickened, and she hated that he could probably tell. Still, she didn’t let him see her falter. Instead, her lips curved into a small, defiant smile as she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe I do”

The tension between them crackled like a live wire, but the sound of the distant crowd and loud blaring music- snapped them both back to reality. Rafe straightened slowly, eyes fluttering down from her eyes to her tits, the supple curve of her skin looking back up at him.

“They’re out there waiting. Don’t make me carry this show on my own.”

She let out a quiet breath as he made his way out of the dressing room. At the door frame, he paused, glancing back at her one last time, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze, before disappearing down the corridor; and although he was gone her heart was still racing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The club was alive, pulsing with energy that seemed to seep into every corner of the massive space. The ‘Globe of Death’ stood proudly in the center, illuminated by beams of crimson and hot pink lights that swept across its surface. Surrounding it were glittering poles and platforms, alluring dancers twirling and spinning with practiced ease, their skin catching the light, sequined panties and bras shimmering in the caught light as the bass-heavy music vibrated through the air. The smoky artificial haze, added to the dreamlike quality of the club. Voices rose and fell, mingling with the pounding beat that seemed to sync with the pulse of the crowd. The multi-level layout gave every guest a perfect view of their choice, each floor something else, but all eyes were beginning to drift toward the center of the club, where the main event was about to begin.

Rafe was already inside the metal walls, perched on his well recognised motorcycle. He revved the engine, the low growl slicing through the music and catching the attention of those closest. He shifted slightly, his gaze scanning the room, searching for one person in particular.

Yn moved effortlessly through the crowd, her presence magnetic as she worked her way closer to the sphere. She was in her element, the teasing smiles, coy touches, and soft laughter flowing from her as naturally as the smoky haze that filled the air. A hand brushed her bare arm, and she turned, letting out a low, playful giggle as a man slipped a fifty dollar bill into the waistband of her panties. Her fingers grazed his wrist, lingering just long enough to keep him hooked, before she moved on, her hips swaying to the rhythm of the music as she made her way toward the edge of the crowd. She caught sight of the managers clustered near the DJ booth, signaling that everything was almost ready.

From his perch inside the globe, Rafe watched her. His hands tightened on the handlebars as his gaze tracked her every move, the way she charmed the crowd, her easy confidence making her the undeniable center of attention- even outside the spotlight.

His jaw clenched slightly as another man leaned in close, his hand brushing Yn’s skin as he tucked a bill under the strap of her bra. Yn responded with a smile, whispering something to the man, tipping her head back just enough to show off the delicate curve of her throat, the perfect image of playful seduction.

Rafe’s engine roared louder, the sound cutting through the club like a warning shot. A few heads turned toward the globe, and even Yn’s smile faltered for half a second as her gaze flicked toward him. Their eyes locked from across the room, and she tilted her head slightly, a small, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. He was always prone to act out wherever she got too friendly with the customers.

The crowd was starting to gather closer, the lights above brightened, casting Rafe in sharp relief as he revved the bike once more, the sound vibrating through the floor beneath their feet. Yn moved closer, finally reaching the edge of the globe, her eyes still on him. She rested a hand on the steel cage, her lips parting slightly as she looked at Rafe.

The lights shifted, the rhythm of the music dipped, creating a hush that spread through the room, and then the manager’s voice boomed through the speakers, smooth and commanding. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, drawing out the words as the anticipation grew thicker,

“Tonight’s main event is one you don’t want to miss. So, put your hands together and make some noise for our best girl… our one and only- …Sugar!”

Rafe revved his engine, the growl of the bike perfectly timed to the announcement, and the room erupted into cheers and applause, whistles piercing the air as the bass dropped back into the music, pounding in time with the audience’s energy. Yn’s smile was dazzling, her confidence radiating as she stepped forward.

Rafe extended a hand toward her from inside the cage, his leather-clad arm steady as his dark eyes met hers. She placed her hand in his, her fingers delicate against his rough, calloused palm, and she climbed over the edge, stepping gracefully into the globe.

Inside the cage, the two of them stood just feet apart, the tension between them palpable, even with the steel separating them from the audience. Rafe’s hand lingered on hers for just a second longer than necessary before he let go, giving her a nod as if to say, you ready?

Yn returned the look with a sly smile, her lashes fluttering as she took her place in the center of the globe. The spotlight shifted again, casting her in a halo of light as the heavy doors of the cage clanged shut with a resounding finality, locking Yn and Rafe inside. Above them, the metal ceiling whirred, and a hot pink hoop began to descend slowly, its polished surface catching the light and glinting. It hovered just above Yn, swaying slightly as if beckoning her to take her place.

She glanced at Rafe, her heart pounding, though her expression remained unreadable. His helmet was on, the reflective visor obscuring his eyes. She couldn’t tell if he was watching her, but she felt his focus nonetheless, a magnetic pull that seemed to reach her even across the enclosed space. Yn hesitated, her gaze flickering between the hoop and the man across from her. Start on the floor, his earlier words echoed in her mind, daring her, taunting her.

Her lips twitched into a faint smile.

She turned her head toward the operator controlling the hoop, her movements smooth and confident. She raised her hand, giving a small, deliberate signal. The operator nodded, and the hoop rose just a bit higher, clearing the space around her but staying within reach.

When she turned back, Rafes head was already faced in her direction, the bike idling beneath him as he leaned forward slightly, his gloved hands steady on the handlebars. Even with his helmet hiding his face, she could feel the unspoken approval vibrating in the air between them. Yn’s smile deepened as she stepped into the center of the globe, her head tilting ever so slightly in Rafe’s direction.

The first notes of the song blasted through the speakers, the heavy bassline reverberating in the air and signaling the start of their routine. Yn’s body reacted immediately, the familiar rush of adrenaline sparking to life and coursing through her veins. Her hips began to sway in perfect rhythm with the beat, each movement fluid and hypnotic. Her hands slid down her sides, over the curve of her hips, and back up to her waist, brushing up against her tits, pushing them up slightly; every motion deliberate.

Behind her, Rafe’s bike roared to life, the sound cutting through the music like a blade. He shifted into gear, the bike lurching forward before gliding smoothly into motion. The crowd watched intently as he began circling her, the steel walls of the cage echoing with the sound of his tires and engine. Yn stayed in the center, unshaken by the vibration of the bike under her feet as Rafe rode closer, the rush of air brushing against her skin with each pass.

And then, without warning, she felt it.

A gloved hand slid against her waist, the touch firm yet fleeting as Rafe’s bike roared past her. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, her movements faltered- just for a heartbeat- before she caught herself and fell back into the rhythm of the music, hands raising above her head, giving him more access to her skin. He came around again, and this time his hand brushed against the curve of her stomach, it was subtle, yet it sent a shiver racing down her spine.

He’d never done this before, never reached out mid-performance.

Yn felt it- felt the deliberate nature of it, the way it made the air between them crackle with a charge that wasn’t part of the show.

As Rafe continued his path, his hand skimmed her again and again, following the circular motion of his bike as if he were tracing invisible lines around her body. Yn didn’t dare look at him, but she could feel the weight of his focus, the intensity of his presence wrapping around her like the walls of the globe.

Yn extended her arms up, fingers brushing the polished surface before gripping it firmly. Her muscles tensed as she lifted herself, her body moving with practiced grace as she adjusted her position. The crowd cheered as the hoop began to rise, lifting her higher into the globe’s confines.

For a moment, she hung motionless, her body suspended, on display like a jewel in the center of the cage. One hand released the hoop, leaving her to dangle precariously as the audience gasped. Then, with fluid precision, she transitioned into a two-handed grip, her body curling and stretching as she performed a series of intricate, mesmerizing movements. The music pulsed, growing louder as the beat synced with the rhythm of the performance. As Yn spun herself around the hoop, her body arched in perfect symmetry, she felt the sudden, firm touch of Rafe’s hand on her calf. With his guidance, she spun in sync with his path, her body following the momentum he created. Her legs extended gracefully as he moved her, the interplay of the bike’s roar and her ethereal movements creating a performance that had the crowd watching at the edge of their seats.

The routine builds to its climax, Rafe’s bike roaring beneath him as he veers sharply, taking the cage’s vertical walls with an almost reckless abandon. The crowd holds their breath as he pushes his bike into a full arc, his wheels now nearly inverted. Yn, suspended in the air, watches as Rafe defies gravity. Her heart races, the adrenaline coursing through her, matching the beat of the music as she curves her body. The two of them are in perfect sync, finishing the routine with a breathtaking drop as Yn lands lightly on her feet, breathless but exhilarated.

The crowd explodes into applause, the cheers echoing as the music fades out.

Rafe’s helmeted face glimmers in the light, and Yn’s chest rises and falls with the rush of the performance. The doors to the Globe of Death creaked open slowly, revealing the dim lights of the club beyond, their flickering glow casting long shadows on the floor. The roar of the bike’s engine faded, leaving only the sound of heavy breaths and the buzzing crowd.

Rafe, still behind Yn, moved with purpose as he pulled his helmet off, his hand brushing his buzzed hair. He watched as her chest rose and fell with each breath, her body decorated with a slight sheen of sweat from the performance, which made him want to lean forward and lick it off her skin. She was still catching her breath, her body pulsing with the aftermath of the rush.

Without warning, Rafe’s hand landed lightly on the back of her upper thigh, his fingers lingered for a moment, and though his voice was hushed, it carried a weight that only she could hear.

“Atta girl”

He murmured softly to her. Yn looked back at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were locked onto hers with an intensity that was felt even beneath the helmet. The chemistry between them flared, the feeling of his hand against her skin, warm and steady, sent a thrill through her, deepening the connection they shared.

Rafe’s gaze flickered down to Yn’s lips for a brief moment, the suggestion behind the look undeniable. Yn felt the shift in the air, the unspoken desire hanging between them, and she couldn’t help but notice. But just as quickly as the thought entered her mind, she looked away, the reality of their setting grounding her back to the present.

They were still at work, after all…

She made her way out of the cage, her heels clicking against the metal floor, her body still pulsing with the adrenaline of the performance. Rafe followed close behind, his steps steady but purposeful, his eyes drifting down to the way her ass looked in her pretty pink panties.

Yn didn’t walk through the crowd this time. Instead, she moved up onto the small dancing platform situated in front of the globe, a familiar spot for her after a performance. The stage was raised just enough to give the crowd a better view, and as she stepped up, the patrons eagerly threw bills at her, their hands reaching out to add to the chaos.

The money rained down, some landing on her body, others falling to the floor of the stage, but it didn’t matter. The customers loved it- their eagerness evident.

From by the cage, Rafe stood, watching as the money cascaded around her. His gaze didn’t leave her for a moment, the scene unfolding like a dance with Yn at the center. His eyes followed each piece of cash as it landed, but they always returned to her, lingering in a way that felt almost possessive.

Yn slowly circled around the pole, hips grinding against it as her fingers glided along the smooth cold metal, moving with practiced grace. Her eyes flickered to Rafe, and she glanced over her shoulder, the teasing glint in her gaze matching the sensuality of her movements. She gently bit her lower lip, a playful challenge in the way she held his gaze.

Rafe’s reaction was instant. His jaw clenched tightly, his eyes darkening as he followed her every move. His stare didn’t waver, but there was a moment of almost painful restraint in him as he watched her. The tension between them hung thick in the air, both of them aware of the silent exchange.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the performance, Yn made her way back to her dressing room. The sound of the music faded as she closed the door behind her, the silence settling slightly, her body still humming with adrenaline, the heat of the performance lingering on her skin. She quickly made her way to the vanity, taking in a deep breath as she sat down. The reflection in the mirror was a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction- her makeup slightly smudged from the sweat, but the glow in her eyes remained.

Before she did anything else, she reached down and pulled the money from the waistband of her panties and the straps of her bra, gathering the bills into the small basket she kept for such moments. As she wiped the sweat off the back of her neck and touched up her makeup, her thoughts kept drifting back to Rafe- the way his eyes had followed her…

Yn was changing her heels, the soft rustle of fabric and the click of the shoes as she slipped them off and reached for another pair. Then the door opened, and she didn’t immediately look up, assuming it was one of the other dancers but when the door clicked shut softly, she turned her head, confused by the silence that followed.

There, standing in the doorway, was Rafe.

He’d closed the door behind him and was now leaning against the frame, his presence almost overwhelming. His eyes locked onto hers, dark and unreadable, as if he’d been waiting for her to notice him. Yn pressed her lips together, fighting the smile threatening to break through. There was something about the way Rafe stood there, calm and composed, that made her want to tease him.

Barefoot, she held her shoes loosely in one hand, her perfectly manicured toes pressing against the cool cement floor. She slowly straightened up, her movements deliberate as she let her gaze move up to meet his. With a slight tilt of her head, she locked eyes with him, Yn couldn’t resist teasing him. With a small, knowing smile, she turned and gracefully made her way to her fluffy stool, sitting down slowly. Her eyes never left his as she leaned back slightly, resting her arms against the vanity behind her. The soft, cushiony fabric of the stool seemed to accentuate the way her posture shifted, back arching, pushing her chest forward- relaxed but with an undeniable air of confidence.

Rafe watched her every move, the space between them growing thicker with the weight of the tension. He took a few steps toward her, his gaze locked on hers, when he finally reached her, he looked down, his expression unreadable for a moment. Yn met his eyes, her sight flickering to his lips before returning to his eyes. She didn’t move, watching him closely as his hand reached out, coming to rest under her chin. He gently lifted her head, encouraging her to tilt her head upward just slightly.

The touch of his hand was like a spark, making her pulse quicken.

His thumb brushed over her lower lip, slow and deliberate as he tugged it down slightly. Yn held her breath, her lips parting ever so slightly as his thumb traced the delicate curve. The tension now suffocating as Rafe licked his own lips, his eyes darkening just a fraction as he held her gaze, every movement charged with anticipation. Rafe’s thumb lingered on her lower lip, for a heartbeat, neither of them moved, both caught in the weight of the charged silence. Yn’s breath hitches slightly, as Rafe’s lips part, and his voice comes out low, like a challenge.

“You know you want this”

He murmured, just barely audible, his breath warm against her skin. He leaned in as if to say something more, but at the last second, he held back, his eyes waiting, letting her decide.

Yn’s pulse quickens, she could pull away, play coy, act like nothing’s going on. Or, she could lean into this- let the magnetic pull between them take over. She smirks slightly, a playful challenge in her eyes.

Slowly, she reaches up, her fingers brushing against his hand that’s still resting at her chin. She lets her fingers trace lightly over his knuckles, teasing, deliberately slow, savoring the moment. Then, as if unable to stop herself, she brushes her lips against his thumb again- just barely, enough to make him feel it.

He’s on the edge, and she knows it.

Yet she doesn’t pull away; instead, she leans in just a little closer, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of her lips. Without warning, she catches his thumb between her teeth, biting down gently, tongue flicking over the tip of his skin.

Rafe freezes for a moment, his entire body tense, the spark of frustration and desire mixing in his chest, the playful bite- the teasing gesture- riles him up more than he cares to admit. His grip tightens on her chin, eyes darkening with a mixture of amusement and hunger.

Yn stays seated, inches away from him, and she can feel the heat radiating off Rafe as he hovers in front of her. Slowly, she runs her hand up from his abs, feeling the muscles tighten under her touch, before slipping her fingers under the collar of his black t-shirt.

She hooks her finger into it and pulls him closer, her eyes never leaving his.

Rafe is practically leaning over her now, his other hand coming to rest on the vanity behind her, bracing himself as he leans down. The space between them is practically nonexistent- his face only inches from hers. She watches the way his pupils dilate, the tension in his jaw. Yn lets the silence hang in the air for a moment, the only sound between them their labored breathing. Then, in a voice that’s barely above a whisper but still charged with challenge, she speaks.

“It’s all yours if you want me… ”

The invitation hangs in the air and she watches him closely, her lips parted, waiting for him to make the move.

Rafe can’t take it anymore. His breath catches as he leans down, closing the space between them. His lips crash into hers, hungry and fierce, pulling her into a kiss that’s been building for far too long. She leans back against the table of the vanity, giving into the kiss, letting him take the lead, both of them finally surrendering to the moment they’ve both been fighting to resist.

As Rafe pulls her in, Yn’s hand slides up from his chest, her fingers trailing along the rough fabric of his t-shirt before curling around the back of his neck, feeling the heat of his skin beneath her touch. She pulls him closer, her fingers brushing over the back of his hair, her thumb gently grazing the side of his neck as their lips meet in a wet, desperate kiss.

Her other hand, now free, moves to his cheek, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the tension there as he deepens the kiss. His breath mingles with hers, and she can taste the urgency in his movements, both of them finally giving in to the magnetic pull.

Rafe’s hand moves from the vanity to her chin, his thumb brushing over her lower lip before sliding down her neck. He lets his fingers drift along the curve of her jaw, palm sliding over her collarbone, before finally resting at her waist. His grip tightens slightly, pulling her closer as he leans in, his body pressing against hers in a way that makes her heart race even faster.

The space between them shrinks with each passing second, and before long, she’s tilted her head back slightly, her body melting into the kiss. Her legs instinctively move, wrapping around his waist, drawing him in closer as their bodies press together with a newfound urgency. Her fingers still hold his neck, feeling the weight of him on top of her, his hands sliding to her hip now, slyly moving down to her ass as he grabs it roughly. His lips are everywhere, trailing down her neck, before coming back to her mouth, making her feel dizzy.

As the kiss breaks for just a moment, Yn’s hands move urgently to Rafe’s jacket, pushing it off his shoulders; she can feel the tension in his body, the tautness of his sleeves pulling against his defined arms as he shrugs it off. Her hands move instinctively, running over his arms, feeling the strength beneath her fingertips. Her grip tightens on his biceps, pulling him closer, she can feel his muscles flex under her touch, and it’s too much to resist. She shifts slightly, her legs still wrapped around him, as she breathes heavily, eye-lids heavy, her pupils blown wide with desire.

She pulls back from his kiss, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and looks up at him through a haze of longing. Her fingers trail down his arms slowly, inching their way to the hem of his t-shirt. She hooks her fingers underneath it, running them along the ridges of his abs, her breath catching in her throat as she feels the heat of his body beneath her touch. She locks eyes with him, her voice a husky whisper as she says,

“Take it off.”

The words hang in the air, charged with anticipation, as she waits for him to respond. Rafe’s breath hitches at her words, and with a quiet, almost possessive growl, he pulls back from her slightly. The fabric clings briefly to his skin, and as he quickly pulls it over his head, his toned, muscular frame is revealed.

“This what you want Sugar?”

His chest is broad and defined, the muscles sculpted beneath smooth skin, with deep lines of tension running down to his abs. Every inch of him is hardened with muscle, from his solid biceps to the sculpted lines of his abdomen. The soft light from the vanity reflects off his skin, highlighting the curve of his shoulders and the strong, defined V of his waist.

Before Y/n can stop herself, her fingers are reaching out, brushing against the hard planes of his chest. The touch is tentative at first, like a spark igniting, and her fingers trace the lines of muscle along his shoulder, moving down slowly, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips.

Rafe’s pulse quickens, and he watches her with hooded eyes, noticing the way her fingers linger on his skin, exploring. Yn shifts, sitting up slowly, her body moving with a deliberate grace. She positions herself closer to him, her eyes locked with his, dark with desire, and her breath hitches as she moves forward, now inches away from his bare torso.

With a teasing glint in her eyes, she leans in, her lips brushing lightly against his abs. The touch is slow and deliberate, a soft kiss against skin, sending a ripple of heat through both of them. Her lips linger just long enough for him to feel the warmth, before she pulls back, her gaze still fixed on him, waiting for his reaction.

The simple gesture sends a shockwave of desire through Rafe. He watched her, his breath shallow, heart racing, his jeans were so tight against his cock it was becoming painful. Yn shifts forward again, a bit closer this time, her lips curving into a teasing smile. She doesn’t rush, taking her time as her gaze flickers between his eyes and the hard planes of his torso. Her fingers graze over his skin, and without breaking their eye contact, she presses another kiss, this time a little lower, just below his navel.

She pulls back slightly, letting the tension build before she leans in again, planting a few soft, lingering kisses along his abs, her lips moving slowly, reverently. Each kiss is deliberate, as though she’s savoring the moment, every inch of his body. Her breath is warm against his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Her hands rest lightly on his sides, her fingers curling into his muscles as she continues, her lips brushing against his skin with a soft, teasing rhythm.

Rafe, unable to control himself any longer, reaches out his hand, threading through her hair and gently gripping the back of her head, pulling her closer to him. The sensation of her lips against his skin, is making him lose his mind. He groans softly as his fingers tighten in her hair, urging her to keep going, his body leaning in toward her with a need he can no longer ignore.

As Yn continues pressing soft kisses against Rafe’s abs, her hands move slowly, trailing from his sides to the front of his pants. Her fingers brush over the edges of his waistband before they find the chunky belt buckle, the metal cool under her fingertips. She runs her fingers along the indents and details of the design, feeling the strength and texture of it. She leans back slightly, her eyes now locked onto the buckle as her hands toy with it, slowly flicking it with a teasing, deliberate touch. The tension in the room thickens as Rafe watches her with a deep intensity, his hand still holding her head close, his grip tightening as she continues to play with him.

With a slow, steady movement, Yn pulls at the buckle, glancing up at him through her fluttering lashes, her gaze daring to push him over the edge. The heat between them simmers just beneath the surface, every touch, every movement. Yn’s fingers brush over the buckle again, this time more deliberately. She feels the cool metal beneath her touch as she works it loose, unfastening it with a slow, steady motion.

The sound of the buckle clicking open echoes in the silence of the room, and for a brief moment, there’s a pause - the anticipation hangs heavy in the air.

Rafe’s body goes rigid for a split second as he watches her. His hand tightens in her hair, a silent warning, but the way his gaze darkens only heightens the heat between them. He leans in closer, but he doesn’t move, not yet. His eyes flicker between her hands and her face, his jaw tight with restraint.

Yn slowly slides her hand away from the belt, meeting his gaze with a challenge of her own. She smirks slightly, her lips brushing over the edge of the buckle as she pulls her hand back. The act of unbuckling it and then teasing him, is enough to make Rafe’s resolve crack, his hand moving from her head to cup her face, roughly pulling her chin up to look at him grunting out,

“Get on your knees.”

As Rafe holds her face with his hand, Yn shifts slightly, siding off the stool and moving onto her knees, the cold floor cooling her burning skin. She’s eye-level with the bulge in his jeans, and the sight makes her squeeze her thighs together in an urge to relieve the ache between them. She looks up at him, her eyes half-lidded, watching the flicker of restraint in his expression faltering. Rafe’s hand stays on her face, his thumb brushing along her jawline as he continues,

“Take them off.”

She reaches for his belt buckle again, teasing him with her fingertips, but this time, her motions are more deliberate as she moves further, unbuckling it fully. Her fingers pop open the button and draw down the zip, fingers curling into the waistband of his jeans and pulling them down, leaving him in his black brief, the material tight over the outline of his hard cock. Rafe’s breath hitches at the movement, but he doesn’t pull her closer. Instead, his hand tightens on her chin, lifting her gaze back up to him. The way she’s kneeling, her body drawn closer to his, causes his voice to drop lower, now edged with more command than it was before.

“You gonna behave for me Sugar?”

Y/n bit her lip as she tilted her head up to look up at him, hand coming up to press his hard on over the material of his briefs, Rafe let out a low moan at her movements, sucking in a breath through his teeth. Losing patience he roughly grabbed Y/n’s chin as he leaned down towards her,

“You want my cock baby?”

She hummed back in response nodding her head, bottom lip still caught between her teeth, he pulled her head up closer to him, tone harsher,

“Use your words”

“Yes”

“What?”

“Yes please”

Y/n could feel the arousal dampening the material of her panties. She was sure if he told her to take them off, he’d see the way the wetness made them stick to her pussy. Rafe let out a hum of satisfaction as he tugged down at her bottom lip again, thumb slipping between her teeth pressing her tongue down, prompting her to open her mouth. The girl complied, mouth slackening instinctively for him. He leaned down closer, eyes locked onto hers, as he spit into her mouth, the girl letting out a whimper as his spit hit her tongue.

“Yes please what”

“Yes please Rafe”

“Good girl”

He grunted, standing straighter as his grip on her chin dropped, letting her move towards him. Her hands slid up from where they rested on his upper thighs, slipping between his skin and the elastic of his briefs, pulling the material down and letting his hard cock free against his lower stomach. She shuffled closer to him, knees sore from the hard floor, but she didn’t care, she was too turned on to pay attention to things that weren’t his cock in her mouth.

His hand brushed some of her hair out of her face as her hand wrapped around his length, moving up and down slowly; causing Rafe to let out a breath. She leant forward, licking a stripe up from the base to the top of his cock, tongue swirling around his sensitive tip, evoking a low groan from him. She spat on his length, hand working the slick up and down, the wet sounds, along with their heavy breathing filled the room. She tapped the tip against her lips, Rafe’s hooded eyes watching her every move as she rested him against her tongue, lips wrapping around his cock, hollowing her cheeks as she moved down his length. He jerked his hips forward at the feeling moaning out huskily,

“-Fuck”

She hungrily worked at him, gags passing her lips as he rutted into her occasionally, struggling to hold back as he let out deep moans, her warm, wet mouth ever so inviting. Beads of precum leaked from his slit, and Y/n lapped them up eagerly, eyes fluttering shut as she savoured the warm, salty taste.

“Such a fucking slut… shit-”

He bit back a moan as he suddenly gripped her hair, pulling her back and muttered harshly,

“Get up”

She rose on shaky legs, standing in front of Rafe as his hands slid down to her thighs, unexpectedly lifting her up effortlessly, causing her to steady herself on his shoulders. He moved towards the leather sofa in the corner of the room, placing her down onto it, the material of the blanket below her soft on her skin.

“Rafe-”

She whimpered out her thighs squeezing together, she was so aroused now her panties were completely soaked, the material sticking to her needy pussy. His hands pressed against her skin, sliding up from her calves to her knees, where he spread her legs open for him, her back arching up slightly as the feeling of the cool air between her thighs. He tutted as he guided his hands further up her body, fingers snapping the waistband of her panties against her hip, causing her breath to hitch,

“Please”

He slowly pulled them down her legs, a string of her slick connecting her pussy to the material, causing him to groan out,

“Fuck- look at her baby, so needy for me hmm?”

Rafe bunched the panties in his hand, shoving them onto the couch as he leaned down to her, littering wet sloppy kisses over her neck, the girls hand coming out to grip at his bicep as she lifted her hips up to meet his, letting out a soft moan at the friction. He pulled back from her, immediately pushing her hips down, hand firmly over her stomach,

“Good girls wait Y/n”

She shook her head as she whined out, hands grabbing at his shoulders trying to pull him closer, but his firm frame stayed motionless.

“Don’t tease…”

He shook his head, a smirk slipping onto his face as he looked at the desperate girl, her usual confidence now gone. This time however, his hand fluttered over her inner thigh, causing her to bite harshly at her lower lip.

“How bad do you want me?”

He mocked as his hand slid up further, brushing faintly over her aroused pussy causing her to mewl out,

“So- so bad.”

“Yeah?” He asked, satisfied glint in his eye as he watched the girl trembling beneath him, “Beg me then.”

Her eyes looked to him, staying silent

“No?”

He questioned, she could feel his body heat against hers and it was driving her insane. The hand which she rested against the couch, now clenched the blanket she layed on tightly in her grip.

“So I guess I won’t touch your pussy then-”

He started pulling his hand away, sitting up slightly, causing her to snap,

“No!- no please… please touch me Rafe I’m so wet for you please… - need you so bad baby, need your cock so bad.”

At this point she didn’t care about the humiliation of the brainless rambles passing her lips, she was so horny that all she wanted was a release from the agonising ache between her thighs. He couldn’t stop the satisfied grin from creeping into his face as he pressed his mouth against hers and running his tongue over her bottom lip. Y/n’s breathing picked up at the action but hitched as she felt his thumb press steady circles against her clit, causing her to moan loudly into his mouth in relief, back arching at the newfound sense of pleasure.

“So sensitive”

He mumbled against her lips, the words barely audible, a low husky whisper that sent shivers down her spine. He pulled away, his breath mingling with hers, their closeness still electrifying, and Y/n panted heavily, struggling to keep her composure. With a high pitched moan, she felt her nails dig into his bicep instinctively,

“More”

“Ask nicely”

“More please Rafe”

“Whatever you want Sugar”

Y/n’s mouth dropped open into a silent ‘o’ as Rafe teased her weeping hole, before slipping his finger in effortlessly due to the wetness now dripping into the blanket below her.

“Fuckkkk- so ready for me hmm?”

She threw her head back with a desperate gasp as he pumped two fingers into her, curling them slightly, the girl's hips rising to match Rafe’s movements. Her mind was becoming fuzzy and all she could focus on was the slowly building knot in her stomach. Rafe could feel her clenching around his fingers as he leant down, breath brushing against her ear,

“Feel good sugar? You like it when your coworker makes your pussy feel good in the back of the club”

Her loud moan cut him off,

“Fuck! Rafe please- I’m gonna cum”

He pulled back all together, causing her brows to furrow as her eyes flickered open from where they’d shut second ago. She was met with the image of Rafe with his fingers by his lips, tongue coming out to lick over the arousal covering his slender digits, causing her to swallow hard, she felt like she was going dumb from how badly she needed him.

“Rafe”

“I know, I know, gonna make this pussy feel so good”

He spoke out heatedly as he pushed himself forward between her thighs, lining his cock up with her hole. Rafe eyes flickered up to Y/n, from where they were gazing at his heavy dick resting against her throbbing pussy: and she was already looking directly at him, eyes glossy with desire. His hand rested on her thigh, thumb rubbing small circles against her skin as he pushed his tip into her, causing her to let out a breathless moan. He teased her pulling out slightly, causing her to babble out,

“No please- I can’t-“

He shushed her as he languidly slid his hips forward, filling her up with his length. She moaned out, walls fluttering against him as her arms came up, wrapping around his shoulders, nails digging into his back, frantically pulling him closer to her, causing him to let out a grunt.

“You like that?”

He groaned out voice deep as he thrusted his hips against her at a fast pace, the sound of their skin slapping and Y/n’s high pitched wines and breathless moans echoing in the dressing room.

“Yes yes yes-”

The words mindlessly passed her lips as she dragged her nails down his back, drowning in the hypnotising pleasure of him rutting against her. Rafe shifted slightly, hand pressed against the sofa supporting himself as the other moved down to the girl's collar bones, grazing over them before his fingers slipped around her neck, squeezing slightly. Y/n’s back arched up in response, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

“Such a dirty fucking slut”

He spat out at her as he relentlessly snapped his hips against her. Her hand shakily reached up, gripping into Rafes wrist, as she looked up to him, mouth falling open in pleasure again.

“Fucking say it”

He grunted as his grip around her neck tightened slightly, causing her walls to tighten against his cock, she could feel her high building and she choked out to him,

“I’m a fucking slut”

“Yeah you are”

He groaned as his hips stuttered slightly, his jaw clenching. Rafe let go of Y/n’s throat, hand moving down between their hot and sweaty bodies to rub at her sensitive clit, the girl jolting at the feeling causing her walls to clamp around him again, she was moaning relentlessly now, loud gasps of his names passing her lips as she chanted them like a prayer.

“Fuck”

He let out a long low whine as he continued to rock his hips into her, his pace faltering as he felt the heat in his stomach rising.

“Rafe- Rafe- I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum-”

She cried out, hands clawing at his skin, digging into his bicep, sliding down his chest, dragging down his back. He knew he was going to have red angrily lines littered over his skin tomorrow but he didn’t seem to care, the knowledge that everyone would know it was her who had marked him up only aroused him more.

“Give it to me Sugar, fucking soak my cock in your pretty juices”

His words caused her to topple over the edge, her body melting into Rafe’s as she threw her head back, mouth open in a silent moan as waves of pleasure caused her vision to blur slightly. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been fucked so good, her limbs felt like jelly. Rafes grunts turned into pants as he moaned into the crook of her neck,

“Fuck baby”

His hips stilled, his cock pulsing inside Y/n’s pussy, hot seed leaking into her tight walls. She whined out at the feeling, legs still firmly wrapped around him, keeping him in place as they worked through their highs.

The room was now filled with nothing but their heavy breaths, Rafe pulled back slightly, slipping his dick from her warm walls, his eyes flickering down to her pussy as he watched some of his cum dribble out of her hole onto the blanket below, causing him to let out a small hum. His hand reached up, resting on the girl's thigh as his thumb circled her skin again, however this time it was not teasing.

“You okay?”

She nodded her head to him as her hand came up, to run over his chest, fingers trailing down his skin to his bicep, where angry red lines had already started to appear. She couldn’t deny that the image of him marked up by her nails was bringing her a sense of satisfaction. However she brushed that aside as she spoke out,

“I hope nobody heard us”

He looked down as her an amused smirk on his face as he responded,

“I don’t know if they heard me… but they definitely heard you.”

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celestial-sphere-press · 1 month ago

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Book Decoration: AKA All The Ways I Don't Use a Cricut

(this post is for people who don't want to buy an expensive cutting tool, or for those that do have an expensive cutting tool that would like to mix things up a little)

1. Print That Shit

If you're already printing your own textblocks, an easy step for titles is to print them. Above is a title printed onto an "obi" of decorative paper. I measured out where I wanted things on the finished book and laid it out in Affinity, then printed it on a full sheet & trimmed it down to wrap around the book. A more simple method is to print & glue on the label into a slight indent in the cover (to protect it). A third option is to do the spine in bookcloth, while you print on paper for the cover and then glue that paper onto the boards (this usually looks even better when it is a three-piece bradel bind).

2. Foil Quill / Heat Pens

The heat pen is one of my go-to tools, but it can be a bit touchy about materials. The most popular version is the We R Memory Keepers' Foil Quill (which is one of the most ergonomic), but other pens exist that can get you to a higher heat temp, finer lines, or more consistent foil. For example, I have a pen created by a local Japanese bookbinding studio that fares way better on leathers than the WRMK quill & with a finer tip, but it's hell to control. Best results in general are on paper or smooth bookcloth (starched linen, arrestox, colibri - even duo will work but its less solid). The fuzzier a bookcloth is, the less your foil quill wants to deal with it. This means the heat n bond method of making bookcloth does not play nice with a heat pen usually, but there are two solutions: 1) use this tutorial on paste + acrylic medium coated bookcloth instead that will get you a perfect surface for the heat pen, or 2) use the pen on paper & then glue onto the cloth. I did a video tutorial for both foil quill use and this type of homemade bookcloth for @renegadeguild Binderary in 2023.

You get the most consistent results by tracing through a printed template that is taped in place, as I do in the video above.

3. Paint That Shit

Acrylic paints will do you fine! The above is free-handed with a circle template, because I wanted that vibe. If you need straight lines that won't seep, lay them down with tape first & then paint over it first with a clear Acrylic medium, then your color. Same goes for stencils. Two more examples of painted bookcloth:

4. IT'S GOT LAYERS

By using layers of thinner boards, you can create interesting depths & contrasts on your cover. You can also make cutouts that peep through to the decorative paper behind. The most important part to this technique is the order in which each edge is wrapped. To get a good wrapped inside edge, you will split the turn in into tabs to get them to conform to a curve. You can also layer multiple colors of bookcloth without multiple layers of board, as seen below left, so long as you mind your cut edges for fraying.

5. Inlaid... anything

Mirrors! Marbled paper! I saw someone do a pretty metal bookmark once! The key is creating a little home for it to live in, which is pretty similar to the above layering method. On one layer you cut the shape, & glue that layer onto the bottom solid board before covering. You can do the top layer as an entire 1 mm board (like I did for the mirrors) or a sheet of cardstock, like I would use for inlaid paper.

6. Decorative Paper

Decorative paper is always helpful & adds to the paper hoard... & its effects can be layers with other techniques, as below. Marbles, chiyogami, momi, or prints & maps of all kinds can be great additions. Some papers may need a protective coating (such as wax or a sealer).

7. Stamps (with optional linocut)

While I've not used many more regular rubber stamps, I do know some who have, successfully! And I've used one once or twice with embossing powder (see photo 3 up, the gold anchor on the little pamphlet bind). What also works is to carve your own linocut or stamp, & then use block printing ink to ink it onto your fabric (as i did above). A bit time intensive, but it was nice how easily reproducible it was, and I liked the effect I got for this particular bind.

These methods are not exhaustive, just ones I've used, and there are of course many others. I haven't gone too into detail on any of these for the sake of length (& post photo limits) but feel free to ask about more specifics. Usually I'm using them in combination with other options.

#fanbinding #bookbinding #celestial sphere press #ficbinding #in progress review #bookbinding how to #i am not particularly anti-cricut or anything #it's just a very expensive tool #and its prevalence sometimes makes new binders think they HAVE to get one #when they absolutely do not #you can make pretty books without it

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roach-works · 11 months ago

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dandelion jelly time!

once again i am begging you guys: make dandelion jelly this year. it's incredibly delicious.

Ingredients

2 cups dandelion petals, lightly packed

4 cups water

4 cups sugar (2-3 if using low-sugar sure-set pectin)

2 Tbs. lemon juice

1 box powdered pectin

Instructions

Cut the green part of the flower off and place the petals into a quart canning jar. (i have the best success cutting them in half with my thumbnail then slicing just above the seed line)

Pour 4 cups of boiling water over the flower petals. Allow them to cool and then place into the fridge for 24 hours.

Strain the flowers well and squeeze out as much dandelion tea as possible. Using a clean dishcloth is better than a metal strainer.

Place into a large pot 3 1/2 to 4 cups of dandelion tea, lemon juice, and pectin. Bring it to a boil.

Add sugar and return to a boil while stirring. Boil the jelly for 1 to 2 minutes.

Remove from the heat and pour into canning jars. Let the jars cool to room temp then pop them in the fridge to set overnight.

Dandelion jelly lasts 3+ months in the fridge and 6+ months in the freezer though I've unfrozen perfectly fine jelly 9 months later. This isn't a good recipe for shelf-stable, room-temperature preserves, though. Keep the jars cool as much as you can.

#dandelion jelly

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syyds · 2 years ago

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#Non-standard precision machining #precision #cnc swiss #precision parts #cnc turning #Precision machining manufacturer #shaft #The main processing methods of metal parts are: machining #stamping #precision casting (investment casting)#powder metallurgy #metal injection molding. Machining refers to the process of changing the dimensions or properties of a workpiece by means of a mechanical d #Stamping is a forming processing method that relies on press and die to exert external force on plate #strip #pipe and profile to produce plastic deformation or separation #so as to obtain the required shape and size of the workpiece (stamping parts). There are also special processing #laser processing #electric discharge processing #ultrasonic processing #electrolytic processing #particle beam processing and ultra-high speed processing. Turning #milling #forging #casting #grinding #CNC machining #CNC center all belong to machining.

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jezebelblues · 4 months ago

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talk to me | h.s

summary: holland tunnel for a nose, it’s always backed up! or, harry struggles with sobriety after y/n leaves

cw: cocaine usage/addiction, angst!!! ex!harry, fem!reader, unedited. ladies imagine the vine boom sound as i dare to say.. toxic!harry 🤨

word count: approx 6.1k

| pls don’t read if you’re sensitive to substance abuse. this is pure angst. i literally wrote this on a whim after seeing the car photo on my tl.

masterlist

harry was stubborn. but then again, so was YN.

he didn’t mean for things to end the way they did, he was stuck in a lull since love on tour ended. it was always the inbetween—purgatory, he would call it. a euphoria cut short, leaving him marooned in a space before the settle.

touring ignited his soul, an always occurring rebirth every time he steps upon the stage. but now it’s march, and he’s standing alone in the heathrow airport after his self-imposed exile in italy.

the air was crisp, biting, and tangled with the faintest trace of her perfume—vanilla, the one he'd bought her, the one she wore on the nights they'd venture out together. if he closed his eyes, he could picture her bathed in neon, colors playing on her skin like she was something holy.

if he thought hard enough, he could feel the phantom burn in his nose as it did in october. he could feel the warm trickle of blood drip down his cupid’s-bow if he overdid it. he could taste the metallic crimson that would slip past his lips and stain his teeth. he could remember the look of horror on her face as he shot her a bloody smile, eyes too dilated to come into his senses—too far gone.

but if he fished through his wallet, he wouldn’t find his old debit card—the one he had closed out in 2011 when his fame started to rise. it’s what he always used to form his lines, and remnants of the white powder were a staple on that card. a relic from a life he was beginning to lose control over.

after that night in october, when they got home, YN had snatched it from his wallet and cut it to pieces in front of him, her face twisted in anguish, not anger. she loved him, and that was the worst part.

a superstar like him could indulge, sure. a line here, a hit there—california sober, he used to joke. but as the tour ended, that fleeting thrill had turned into something darker, something that clawed at his insides when the spotlight faded. something he’d turn to for the semblance of exhilaration he had on the road.

so, now he was out of his lucky, unusable debit card. and, sometimes at night, he would think of the way the pieces are drifting around a landfill, scattered and forgotten.

but then he would think of YN. and no, that couldn’t compare, it wouldn’t.

he didn’t have to squint or fish through his contacts, she was just gone. and he knew it.

that night she had threatened to leave if he didn’t get sober, and harry fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around her bare thighs and begged her to stay. he could feel the lotion lift from her skin because of his tears, the way it burned his eyes. she had fell down to the floor with him that night, combing through his curls and whispering promises that she wouldn’t leave if he just tried. that’s all he had to do. they fell asleep on the couch that night.

harry thought he had gotten rid of everything. he had one slip up, and he remembered how YN’s eyes glossed over when she told him he had one more chance.

it was the day before halloween when she found a dime bag of the familiar white powder stashed away in one of his drawers—an afterthought. a remnant, a leftover.

harry tried to explain it wasn’t new, something that remained forgotten. he desperately followed her out to her car in the rain, holding the drivers door open as he pleaded. but she started the engine. she was leaving, and he knew it.

he remembers the way his frustration boiled over. maybe it was projection, withdrawal, or the pain of watching the love of his life walk away. but he had slammed the drivers door shut, slapping his palm against the window with a shaky sob as she drove off.

he hadn’t seen her since. he disappeared into italy afterward, hiding in his villa. he would have virtual therapy sessions every thursday, lots of which ended in his tears.

he knew he was blocked, he could tell by the way his blue messages no longer had the word delivered underneath them. because they weren’t. just conversations with a ghost. a stonewalled grave.

he had only started to come to terms with the end of their relationship in february, after his thirtieth birthday. there was no message, no phone call, no knock upon his door. he was just alone in italy.

harry thought about relapsing that day. he thought about calling a friend of a friend and falling into the vibrant world only the blow could offer.

but he didn’t, he called his mum. he called his therapist. he drank some wine, sang himself a somber happy birthday over a strawberry cupcake, and then slept for thirteen hours.

now he was at the airport in the heart of london. he only had his carry on, roses from the gift shop, and so many words left unsaid. the airport was unusually quiet that afternoon, the fluorescent lights casting a sterile glow over harry as he stood there, unmoving. london was a different reality, pulling him back into the damp chill of march and the weight of everything he'd left unresolved. he tasted a tinge of salt in the air, his nerves raw as he thought of her—the girl he'd lost, the girl he couldn't let go of.

he didn’t even know if she still lived in the same brick townhouse, but it was worth a shot. he didn’t really even think this through, he had enough clothing for about three days, and his car was about thirty minutes away from her place at his own house.

but he ubered there anyway, grateful it was only an older fellow who had no clue who he was. he would shove his nose into the flowers occasionally, smelling them with a gentle inhale. he shifted in his seat, turned his phone on and off with every passing minute to watch the time pass. he was restless, he was nervous.

her flat looked the same as it always did when he was dropped off, but there was a festive little reef still hanging on her door from christmas. a whisper of a smile tugged at his lips from that.

his own body felt heavier on his feet as he stood before her door, it felt like he could topple over and perish in that moment. harry thought it wouldn’t be the worst thing if he did, perhaps she would even miss him—no, he thought, tempting as it was—really messed up.

right?

he shook his head at his own thoughts, raising his fist to knock on her door. it was light, he wasn’t even sure if it’s something she’d hear. the brunette debated knocking again, harder this time, but he heard her voice behind the barrier.

“coming!”

he felt weak in the knees. it was her voice, no mistaking it. she was real, still here, just behind the door. YN’s voice felt like a fresh sherpa blanket, still soft and unused. it sounded like honey stirred into tea. harry really thought he could topple over at that point.

the door swung open and there she was, only a foot away after being hundreds of miles apart for so long. her hair was different, and she had a pair of glasses he hadn’t seen before resting on the bridge of her nose. her lips were parted, face drained of all color as she stared at him.

the words caught in harry’s throat, and he stood speechless. he only raised the roses toward her with a shaky hand, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

she looked down at the deep red flowers, then back into his green eyes. the eyes that were so familiar, eyes that took in every part of her being and imprinted into his brain. but the petals resembled the blood pooled between his teeth only a few months ago, the way it dripped onto her new dress as she eased him out of the club that night.

her throat ran dry as she swallowed hard, her stomach lurching and threatening to spill all over her porch and harry’s beat up sambas. “what–what’re you doing here?” her voice barely a whisper, both broken and brimming with something he couldn't place. she had missed him—he could feel it—but the anger lingered, a smoldering ember just beneath the surface.

the bouquet continued to tremble in his hands. “i had to see you.” he murmured, voice shaking underneath his nerves. he couldn’t hold eye contact with her, something he had never struggled with before. “i couldn’t—i miss you, YN.”

she pressed her lips together, the sight of him here in front of her resembling that of whiplash. it’s been five months, how do you even respond to that? he dropped off the face of the earth after she left, and she understood that to an extent. she’s the one who left, she’s the one who blocked him after he would constantly reach out.

she called his mum on his birthday, needing to reach out in some form, needing to know how he was. she begged her not to tell him that she phoned, something anne kept away from her son with an ache in her heart. “why now?” she mustered out, the pressure behind her eyes almost to much to bear.

he blinked, surprised by the softness in her tone.

he had expected a door slammed in his face, anger, roses thrown onto the snowy pavement. but this—a fragile, weary version of her—felt like a wound laid bare. the question hovered in the air, unanswered. he wasn't sure if he had the words to explain.

"i know i hurt you.” his voice cracked, breaking under the weight of his guilt. he hated himself for it—for leaving her, for drowning in his own mess, for not being stronger. "i thought maybe if i went away, if i fixed myself, i could come back."

"come back?” her laugh was bitter, sharp. "you think this is something you can just come back to, like nothing happened?" she shook her head, taking a step back, as if his presence was suffocating her. "you don't get it, do you? i spent my days worrying if you were okay, if i were going to find you dead on the floor next to a bag of coke. and now you just show up?"

harry flinched at her words, at the coldness in her tone, though he couldn't blame her. he had done this. he had broken this.

“i messed up," he said, his voice thick with desperation. "i know i should've done more. i should've been better f’you, but i wasn't. i’m trying now. i’ve been trying every day, YN."

she stared at him, her eyes glossed with unshed tears, but her expression was hard, unreadable.

she wasn't going to make this easy for him, and he knew it. she shouldn't. "trying?" she repeated, her voice dangerously quiet. "you’re trying now? after everything? after the lies, the broken promises? after you begged me to stay, told me you'd quit, and then i found that–” her voice broke, "–that bag? that was it for me, harry. that was it.”

harry opened his mouth to speak, but YN’s soft, wavering sniffle filled the space between them. her pretty eyes fell shut, and she muttered, “you should go.” the words barely made it past her lips before she closed the door, shutting him out in one quiet, final motion. no glance back.

for a moment, he just stood there, arm hanging loosely at his side, the roses brushing against his knee. his shoulders sagged as the reality settled—he had expected this, even told himself it was inevitable. but still, some desperate part of him had clung to hope.

with a sigh that cut deep, he turned, trudging down the narrow stairwell outside her flat. his heart felt like dead weight in his chest, and each step echoed softly, swallowed by the damp, early evening air. at the last step, he sat, letting his jeans absorb the chill from the wet concrete. he laid the flowers beside him, petals dark against the fading light, and clasped his hands in front of him, jaw tight as he fought the burning in his eyes.

harry couldn’t bring himself to go back to his house. he knew what waited for him there: bits and pieces of her, scattered reminders he couldn’t bear to see right now. a sweater still draped over his armchair. little notes she’d left him during the tour, folded scraps of her handwriting. even the faint smell of her perfume clinging to the blankets. no, he couldn’t face that.

he tilted his head back, gazing into the overcast sky. gray clouds swirled above, blurring the line between evening and night. he sniffled, noticing a modest inn just down the street, its sign hanging askew, light dimly flickering. it wasn’t much—a little rundown, with the look of a place that had seen better days. perfectly unremarkable. and right now, all he needed was a bed.

inside the hotel room, he dropped his backpack onto the chair and stood there, staring at the neatly made bed, the cheap, plush white blankets tucked in tight. the silence pressed in on him, too thick and heavy. without much thought, he shrugged off his jacket, toed off his shoes, and sank into the mattress, the springs squeaking under his weight. sleep embraced him like a reluctant lover, drifting in after nearly an hour of restless thoughts. but it didn’t stay. he awoke after just four hours, staring up at the ceiling as moonlight spilled in through the thin curtains, casting faint shadows across the room.

he groaned, reaching under his pillow for his phone, squinting as the screen lit up his face. only the usual notifications—nothing out of the ordinary, but still, he’d hoped. he didn’t know why. YN had been clear. she’d left no room for misinterpretation.

his fingers hesitated, then he opened her contact anyway. the photo still there—the one he’d taken on the tour bus last summer. a blurred shot from above, a silly close-up she’d protested, but they’d both laughed at it, something shared just between the two of them.

he typed the words, fingers slow, deliberate.

i love you.

his heart twisted as he pressed send, watching the message linger for a second before the familiar rejection—not delivered.

still blocked. still gone.

harry let his phone fall onto the mattress, dragging a hand over his face, groaning into the empty room. his chest tightened with frustration, desperation edging close to something frantic. he didn’t want to seem like he was clinging, but this couldn’t be the end, could it?

would it be futile to try again? sure. definitely in vain. he just wanted to give it one more try.

he sat up, slipping his sambas back on, the leather scuffed and worn from tour, loose enough he didn’t bother with the laces. he left the jacket where it lay, grabbed his wallet, and in a few determined strides, pushed himself through the door into the night, unwilling to let go just yet.

the cold bit at harry’s skin the moment he stepped outside, the wind cutting through his thin sweater as he walked down the dimly lit street. he barely noticed the sting. his breath puffed in front of him in small clouds, quickly dissolving into the frosty air. snow had begun to fall again, light flakes swirling under the streetlamps, but he didn’t slow down. each step was deliberate, his sneakers scuffing against the half-melted snow on the pavement, but his mind raced with a dozen unfinished thoughts. he hadn’t even grabbed his coat. he hadn’t thought it through.

he just needed to be close to her again.

the city was quiet, the usual rush dulled by the late hour and the snowfall blanketing everything in a soft silence. as he turned the corner toward her flat, his heart picked up speed, thudding painfully in his chest. her building was just down the road, its familiar outline coming into view. every step toward it felt heavier, each one laced with the weight of the unsaid things between them.

when he reached her street, he stopped for a moment, breath clouding the air in front of him as he tried to steady himself. his eyes scanned the row of cars parked along the curb, and there it was—her car, parked in the same spot it always was, snow gathering over the windshield, the roof, coating it like a layer of frost. the sight of it hit him harder than he expected. It was the last tether to her, something still close, something that made her feel real, just beyond that door.

but he didn’t go to her flat. he didn’t knock on her door. his feet carried him to her car instead, the snow crunching softly under his shoes as he approached. harry paused, standing before the vehicle, his breath hitching in his throat. his fingers hovered at his sides, the air biting into the exposed skin, but he didn’t care. the snow covering the windshield was smooth, untouched, and he stalled for a moment, the night wrapping around him like a blanket of quiet.

this was weird. he knew it was. but he couldn’t stop himself.

slowly, almost hesitantly, harry reached out, his fingertips brushing against the icy layer of snow on the glass. it was cold, stinging his skin as he dragged his fingers across the surface, but he kept going, his touch leaving a thin, delicate trail through the frost. he could feel the slight resistance as he wrote, each stroke of his finger deliberate, like the weight of his feelings pressed into every curve of the letters.

we should talk

the words were simple, almost too simple for everything he wanted to say, but they were enough. enough for a desperate message left on a windshield, at least—all he could offer now, standing out against the stark whiteness of the snow like a whisper in the dark. his hand lingered for a moment, fingers resting against the cold glass as if he could reach through the car, through the frost, and touch her somehow.

he stepped back, breath shaky, eyes fixed on the message he had left behind. the snow continued to fall, light and steady, the flakes already beginning to gather in the grooves of his writing, slowly erasing it even as he stood there. his hands dropped to his sides, curling into fists, and he closed his eyes for a long moment, the cold finally seeping into his bones. he felt exposed out here, vulnerable, like every part of him was on display in the silence of the night.

he also felt like he was doing something illegal.

but still, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. he looked up at her flat, the windows dark and still, like nothing inside had changed. for all he knew, she was asleep, completely unaware that he was standing here, just feet away. or maybe she wasn’t. maybe she was lying awake, thinking about him too, wondering what could possibly come next after everything they had been through.

the snowflakes clung to his hair, his clothes, but he didn’t move. he stood there, staring at the message on her windshield, his heart caught between hope and fear.

the words seemed to echo in the quiet, fragile and fleeting, like the snow itself. he didn’t know if she’d see them, or if the snow would bury them by morning, but for now, it was all he had left to say. he turned to walk away, his heart heavy but his resolve set. it was up to her now.

inside her flat, YN lay in bed, the dim glow of her phone the only light cutting through the darkness. she had been tossing and turning for what felt like hours, trying to force herself to sleep, but her mind kept circling back to him—harry. the knock at her door earlier had left her rattled, emotions stirring like a storm inside her. she’d shut him out, forced the door between them because it was the only way she knew how to protect herself. but it hadn’t stopped the ache in her chest.

the soft chime of her phone interrupted the silence, a faint buzz. she frowned, lifting it off the pillow beside her. the notification made her heart stutter.

ring doorbell: movement detected.

her stomach dropped. for a moment, she just stared at the screen, unsure of whether to open the app, her fingers hesitating. maybe it was just a stray cat, or the wind shaking the snow loose from the trees. but deep down, she knew. she knew who it would be.

with trembling hands, she tapped the screen, and there he was—harry. standing in the cold by her car, his figure a shadowy outline under the soft glow of the streetlamp. his hands were stuffed into his pockets, his head bowed slightly, his breath visible in the cold air. she watched, her heart pounding in her chest as he lifted a finger to the snow-covered windshield, slowly writing something in the frost. the words began to take shape, and she felt her throat tighten, her pulse quickening.

we should talk.

her heart constricted, emotions warring inside her. he hadn’t disappeared. even after she’d shut the door in his face, he was still here. the sight of him standing there, exposed to the biting cold without even a coat, tugged at something deep inside her—something she had tried to bury the night she walked away.

she swallowed hard, sitting up in bed, her fingers hovering over the phone for a moment longer. she could ignore it, let the snow cover the words he’d written and pretend none of this was happening—a biased fate. but she couldn’t shake the image of him standing there, shoulders slumped, his vulnerability written in the frost as clearly as the message itself.

with a sigh, she swung her legs out of bed and pulled on a hoodie, her mind racing. what was she even going to say to him? she was angry, she was hurt, but she also couldn’t deny the pull he still had on her. the years of love and heartache had tangled them together in a way that was impossible to untangle in one night. and now, he was standing outside her flat, waiting in the cold.

YN slipped on her shoes and grabbed her phone, her heart pounding harder with each step as she made her way to the front door. her fingers shook as she unlocked it, pulling the door open just enough to peek outside, the cold air rushing in.

there he was, standing by her car, his back to her, staring down at the message he had written, threatening to step away. his breath puffed in front of him, his head hung low as if he wasn’t sure what to do next. the sight of him, so lost and alone, tugged at her heartstrings in a way that made her chest ache.

“harry,” she called softly, her voice carrying through the quiet night.

he turned slowly, his face pale in the moonlight, eyes wide with surprise. for a second, he just stared at her, as if unsure if she was real or some apparition conjured up by his restless mind.

maybe he got frostbite and this is the last thing he’d see before decaying into the snow, he thought.

but then his expression softened, his shoulders relaxing just slightly, though the tension in his eyes remained.

she stepped out onto the snowy path, the cold biting at her skin as she approached him. “what are you doing here?” her voice was steadier than she felt, but the cracks in her resolve showed through.

“i–” he faltered, glancing down at the words on the windshield, then back up at her. “i’m sorry. i’m not stalker. i just–” he paused, sighing exasperatedly. “m’blocked and had to try.”

her breath caught in her throat, the rawness in his voice unraveling her. she looked down at the words he’d written in the snow, her heart twisting painfully at the sight of them. he was trying, she knew that. but it didn’t make it any easier. her chest tightened, memories of him crashing over her in waves—good ones, bad ones, all tangled together in a mess of emotions she hadn’t quite sorted through. she opened her mouth to speak, but the words jumbled in her mouth, only letting out a delicate, fleeting stutter. she wanted to stay strong, to protect herself, but looking at him now, standing in the freezing night without so much as a coat, the walls she’d built began to crack. “you don’t even have a coat,” she whispered, her voice softer now, laced with concern.

he looked down at himself, almost sheepish, his lips curling into the faintest of smiles. “i didn’t really think.”

her heart ached at the sight of him, so lost, so vulnerable. for all the hurt, for all the walls she’d tried to put up, a part of her still missed him—missed this. missed the sound of his voice, the way he always found his way back to her, even when things seemed broken beyond repair.

before she could stop herself, the words slipped out. “come inside.”

harry blinked, surprised, and for a moment he didn’t move, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. YN stepped aside, opening the door wider, the warmth from inside spilling out into the cold. “you’re freezing, and we need to talk,” she said, more firmly this time, gesturing to her snowy windshield he wrote upon.

he hesitated for a beat, then nodded, shuffling forward. she watched as he walked past her, his footsteps slow and unsure, like he was afraid the invitation might disappear if he moved too quickly. once he was inside, she closed the door behind them, the soft click of the lock somehow louder in the quiet that followed.

the contrast between the freezing air outside and the muted heat inside hit him all at once, his body tensing, unsure if he should relax. the space felt familiar, yet foreign—like stepping into a memory that had shifted in his absence. the soft hum of the radiator, the faint scent of her lavender diffuser, the quiet—all of it made his chest tighten.

he stood by the door, unsure of what to do with himself. his hands hovered at his sides before he stuffed them into his pockets, glancing around.

the apartment was exactly as he remembered, yet somehow smaller, more intimate. her big winter coat was draped over a chair, a half-finished cup of tea sat on the coffee table, and a pile of books lay stacked by the corner of the couch. there were still traces of their life together—small things, like the framed picture on the shelf they made together on a whim—glued seashells and colorful iridescent beads. the frame was still there, but the photo had been replaced, its new image hidden behind a layer of dust. he didn’t know what it was, all he knew is that he didn’t see the familiar photo of them at his mum’s house during christmas.

he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was erased, like a ghost she had swept away in her effort to move forward.

his throat tightened as he took in the subtle changes, the pieces of her life that had moved on without him.

she hadn't moved far from the door, standing with her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes flicking between him and the room, as if she, too, was seeing the space differently now that he was in it again. her silence isn't cold, but it wasn't inviting either. It was careful.

“you can sit." she murmured, nodding toward the couch, her voice steady but distant. "if you want."

harry hesitated, then nodded, slowly making his way to the couch. he moved carefully, as though the wrong movement might shatter the fragile understanding between them. he sat down, feeling the familiar creak of the old cushions beneath him. the last time he'd been here, he hadn't thought twice about dropping onto this couch, sprawled out with her beside him, both of them laughing at something ridiculous. now, every inch of space between them felt heavy.

she moved to the armchair across from him, settling into it with her legs tucked underneath her, but still keeping a distance. she watched him, her gaze cautious, as though waiting for him to explain himself. to fill the silence.

harry opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came at first. his mind was a blur, his heart pounding louder than the words he wanted to say.

he looked at her, really looked at her for the first time since he walked in. she seemed different, but not in a way he could pinpoint. her hair seemed softer, her glasses discarded, left upstairs on the nightstand. she had a new freckle he didn’t notice till now, and it immediately fell into the category of his favorite parts about her. “i don't even know where to start," he finally admitted, his voice low, breaking the stillness.

she didn't respond right away, just looked at him, her expression unreadable. "then why are you here?" she asked softly, her tone not accusing, but raw, like she was trying to understand. "you disappeared and now you’re back with no words.”

his breath caught, and he shook his head quickly, trying to explain. "no, i didn’t–” he paused, sighing, running a hand through his hair. "i didn't just leave like that. you left me, YN. that night, you walked out and–”

"–of course I did," she cut him off, her voice rising slightly. "you didn't give me a choice. i couldn’t recognize you. you relied on blow, harry. it wasn’t just for fun.”

harry flinched at the words, guilt settling like a heavy stone in his chest. he’d seen it happening, but at the time, he couldn't pull himself out of the spiral. "i know i fucked up. but leaving me? blocking me?—" his voice caught, raw emotion surfacing as he gestured helplessly. "y’just just cut me off. i had my slip ups, and i regret it immensely, y’didn’t deserve that. y’promised one more chance, and that i did. you found an old bag and didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt.”

her face hardened, her arms tightening around herself as she shook her head. "i couldn't watch you destroy yourself anymore. that bag wasn't just an accident, h. it was a reminder of everything i’d been fighting to save you from. and you–you didn't see it. all you saw was me leaving, that’s it.”

his heart ached at the truth in her words, the weight of his failures crashing down on him. he ran a hand down his face, pinching his bottom lip, frustration and pain coursing through him. "i cared. god, i cared. but i didn't know how to pull myself out of it. i didn't know how t’fix what i was breaking. ‘nd then you were gone, and i didn't know how to–how t’do it without you."

the silence that followed was heavy, both of them sitting there, lost in the mess of emotions that had been left behind. YN looked away, her jaw clenched, her eyes misting over as she stared at the floor. the tension in the room was suffocating, the distance between them widening, and harry felt himself slipping, like everything he had come here to say was unraveling before he even had the chance.

"i didn't want to hurt you," he said softly, his voice barely a whisper. "i never wanted to be that person. i’m trying to be better, YN. i’m getting help. i’ve been sober since halloween. m’not perfect, but i’m getting better.”

her gaze flicked back to him, her expression softening just slightly, the anger fading into something quieter, something sadder. "you should have told me," she whispered. "i was supposed to be your person, harry. you shut me out, and I had to pick up your pieces on my own."

he swallowed hard, the knot in his throat tightening. "i know. and i’m so sorry. for everything. i’m here now because i don't want to lose you. not again."

she didn't respond right away, her eyes searching his face, as if looking for the man she had once loved—the man she wasn't sure still existed. but something in the way she looked at him, the way her guard wavered, told him that part of her still wanted to believe him. still wanted to believe in them. "you’re asking me to trust you again," she said finally, her voice small, barely above a whisper. “i don't know if i can."

“m’not asking for your trust.” his lip quivered, shaking his head as he slipped from the couch onto the carpet. he crawled over to her, sitting on his heels as he hesitantly raised his large, cold hands to her knees.

it felt like a shock, his touch in general and the temperature of his hands. his eyes burrowed into hers, as if silently gauging on whether he was crossing a line.

“i love you. even if y’never want to be my love again. i just want back in. i want to know you’re okay. i want to be able to send you a good morning text, or if you’d like to come to the studio like y’use to.” his voice almost sounded like that of a whimper, a stray tear falling from bloodshot eyes. “i can’t live without even a semblance of you in my life.”

she let out a choked sob, quickly wiping her fallen tears with the back of her hand. “don’t say that, harry.”

he ducked his head, leaning in to catch her averted gaze again. he rubbed small circles into her kneecap with his thumb, his voice cracking. “i don’t mean it a horrible way. yes, i can live.” he sadly chuckled, trying to backtrack how pathetic he must’ve sounded. “it just won’t feel like a life without you in it.”

her hand was hesitant, painfully hesitant as she stretched it out toward harry’s, softly lying it over his. she stared down at his hands, his skin warming just being against her, though his medal rings were still cool to the touch. she traced the veins with a shaky breath, shifting her eyes up his arm, past his shoulder, and finally onto his face. his cheeks were red, glistening in the warm glow of the lamp from his tears. his lips were swollen, hair disheveled and a bit damp from the melted snowflakes. “i want you in my life, too.”

his gaze was unwavering, all he could do was squeeze her knee gently, urging her to continue.

“slowly. friends, just friends. and we can see what happens from there.”

it felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders, a weight that only got heavier after five months.

he wanted to kiss her, tell her how in love with her he was. he wanted to hold her until the sun rose, he wanted to put their stupid christmas photo back into their diy picture frame. he wanted to kiss the ground she walked on and follow her around like a lost puppy. he wanted her to be his again.

but friends? it’s a start. it’s something he could live with. even if all she remained was his friend, he would still thank his lucky starts for her decision to come back.

he couldn’t control his tears at that point, moving his hands from her knees to loop his arms around in a makeshift hug around her legs.

it reminded him of the time he had begged her to stay.

but this time he wasn’t begging, he was thankful.

he nestled his head between her thighs as his shoulders shook from his sobs. she combed her fingers through his hair, softly shushing him and reminding him it’ll be okay.

her pink silk pajama bottoms dampened from his sorrow, a messy mixture of his tears, snot and saliva staining the fabric as he let out his loud whimpers, but she didn’t mind. her fingers fell from his curls onto his back, tracing soft circles into the trembling muscles.

his raw, unguarded grief tore her heart in two, each shuddering sob a reminder of the man she loved, a man who was struggling to rise from the ruin he’d left in his wake. and in the quiet of the room, as his sobs filled the space, she realized his tears, painful as they were—were stitching back together the shredded pieces of her heart.

he’s healing. he’s sober. he’s alive.

and that was enough.

#harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles concept #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles sad #harry styles ex #harry styles drugs

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samodivaa · 10 months ago

Text

║drool on dog tags║

Bucky x Reader : They sway in your face during sex... (smut) {request}

There’s nothing more dangerous than a man with charm—and Bucky looks like a deity—a small smile tips up one corner of your mouth as you look in his eyes which are powder-blue and still rimmed with the longest lashes you have ever seen on a man. His mouth comes down on yours without further warning. Not hard or violently or forcefully. But fully, with complete contact. He comes directly to you, seizing your face between his hands, and capturing your mouth beneath his. “I am going to shower, Bucky"

"Is that an initiation? We can shower later”

He cajoles, hoping he sounds convincing rather than needy. Tortuously slow, Bucky licks his lips, rolling his hips fluidly against yours. It’s a struggle to swallow back a groan when you bite his lower lip slightly. You are covered only by a towel, his mind running amuck over what the towel is hiding—sexual perversions mix with lust as his mind sees in scattered images of varying vulgarity. Bucky grips your waist and lifts you off the ground with ease, dropping you softly on the luxurious white linen bed, your body fully exposed to him. You lick your lips at the sight of his broad shoulders and an athletic physique that even a jacket cannot hide. Your eyes continue their upward travel to his strong square-shaped face, framed with short brown hair that falls to his shoulders and deep, blue eyes. He disrupts your thoughts by stripping his shirt off, shorts, boxers—letting only the dog tags trail over his chest.

He then craws on top of you and he cannot articulate a word, capable only of an animal sound, a strangulated wheeze that shocks him deeply, enraging him, this sudden loss of the faculty of speech that feels somehow bestial and forgotten. His body hovers above you as he leans down to kiss you. You're perfect when you're underneath him, it's where you belong, beautiful face and pretty eyes lock onto his—your warmth cushioning him, your obedient body lush, your eyes flashing—and all he wants is to ruin you. His lips are once again on your skin, devouring everything he can—licking, sucking, and kissing. He drags his lips up your throat, along your jaw, back toward your mouth before leaning back to let his hips slowly rut against you, length parting your folds and rubbing over your clit, dragging his pre-come up between your lips. You simultaneously release a harsh moan as he buries himself deep with an upward thrust. You are grateful that he doesn't start slow, but slams into you with no remorse, the need for fucking poisoning his mind. Bucky brings both of your wrists above your head and grips them in his metal arm, restraining them from moving—It's a sinful sight each time he buries the length of his cock all the way inside you, shaft slick and wet and glistening when he pulls it out. He loves watching it happen. You make the prettiest noises when he shoves in deep only to pull out and slam himself back inside, his eyes roll backwards as the dog tags make melodious ringing sounds right above your face with every thrust.

“Can you feel my cock slipping in and out…feels good, doesn’t it?”

When you don’t answer in time, he stops and lifts his gaze towards yours. You feel a jolt of some foreign but not unwelcome sensation piercing your body. You look so—slutty. There is something raw and pleading in his eyes that surpasses sexual desire, these fleeting moments of carnal craving—his dog tags continue to whirl in your hot mouth, drool dribbles from your corners on your lips—but your greedy tongue is always ravenous…for anything. It is the dirty, sinful element that gives pleasure to the act of lust, then the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be. He pulls out, only the tip remains inside.

“Don’t-” you whimper desperately. Without warning, he pushes his whole length. He focuses his attention on your lips. His trusts are slow and his stare makes your walls clench around him.

“Don’t stop?” He chuckles softly, voice going deeper as he picks up the pace and fucks you into the mattress, his thrusts only getting rougher. “Is that what you want? Need me to fuck you till you come, baby?” he mumbles, not looking away from your lips, his gaze devouring you.

He has to take a deep breath. He tries to breathe, trying to avoid cumming, but your filthy mouth rips his soul and hypnotizes his brain—and your eyes, eyes that bare into his heart, making his dick twitch. The wet squelching, your shy moans, the way your walls tighten around cock is enough to make him cum. His dick keeps on slamming into you, the sight of his well-muscled body, covered in a thin layer of sweat, invites you to utter depravity, it is what drives you over the edge. You whimper and screw your eyes tight as another wave of pleasure spreads throughout your body in orgasmic tingles as he pulls his own climax with you. He finally presses his face against your neck as his hips lose any and all sense of tempo and when he finally stills, he holds himself deep inside as he leans back—with every breath, your bust heaves, sweat droplets running between them and attracting his gaze. But what pollutes his mind even more—is when he pulls the dog tags away from your mouth, sticky strands of spit spilling between your lips and the small metal plates as you share collective gasps of breath. Sometimes, to regain sanity, one has to acknowledge and embrace the madness.

#lemme lick them dog tags fr #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #request #winter soldier

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wrthzell · 3 months ago

Note

hi! Could you write a Vander x male reader where Vander in his werewolf(?)/Warwick(?) form recognizes the reader, and reader also recognizes him, and is so so happy to meet his old lover again

Sorry any mistakes, English is not my first language!

𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍 — (Vander/Warwick X Male Reader).

Note: Thank you for the request! No worries; English is not my first language either, and your request was very comprehensible. It turned out a bit short, but I hope it's to your liking.

Summary: The old memories of what could have been and what was haunt you, but after being called to the mines you once used to work on, you find that maybe your life won't have to be filled with regret and longing.

Warnings: Spoilers, don't read unless you've watched Arcane.

Key: (Y/n) — Your name. | (H/c) — Your hair colour. | (E/c) — Your eye colour.

Sickly green neon lights reflect on murky brown water, and a stomach-churning stench rises from the walls of the worn-down building; the grey impregnated itself in any surface it touched, like acrid sulfur. (Y/n) crouched in front of The Last Drop, (e/c) eyes squinting to make out any recognisable feature in what once was a haven to him.

He dusted off the dirt that had collected in the upper part of his pants and inhaled sharply, lungs long accustomed to the poisonous fog of his hometown. He pressed forward. The inside was empty—needless to check; he wouldn't find her inside. The paper felt like lead in his pocket, heavy and foreboding—a reminder of his failures and the grief that followed any Zaunite like a wailing shadow.

He hadn't gone to the mines in years, and he hadn't had to work there in such a long time that he wasn't sure what exactly they looked like after everything. The entrance was falling apart, and wood planks, detached and broken, littered the floor, and glass cracked underneath his shoes. He tightened his jaw and looked down, the pitch-black darkness of the cave illuminating with every step.

Thump, thump, thump. The impact of his boots against the floor echoed—the caves amplified each sound closer than it truly was—and the faint noises of water dripping reached his ears along with a low rumbling. She was deeper there, had to be. His fingers rubbed the paper note inside his pocket, hope simmering inside his chest.

Thundering footsteps started to come in his direction; something metallic scratched against the walls. He raised his guard, crouching and aiming his gun at the origin of the sound. The walls illuminated in a quick flash, and a dark shadow moved too fast for him to brace himself for it, the thing colliding into his chest and throwing him to the ground.

Mismatched eyes looked straight into his, and a gaping maw with sharp teeth stopped just short of tearing his face apart. Shivers went down his spine, and his lips quivered, tears welling in his eyes as he raised a trembling hand to the creature's face. A sharp set of footsteps entered the place, the light going up again and illuminating the monster's face further. Greyish dark fur coated a familiar face and warped it into something recognisable but not completely.

“Thought you'd want to see him.” Powder announced, her gun clanking against her belt.

Vi stepped closer, opening her mouth and closing it before finally settling on explaining it. “It's...”

“Vander.” He held the man's face in his hands, tears falling down his eyes, a thunderous storm inside his heart. The man he loved. The man he loves. He holds him tenderly but strongly, as if afraid that when he lets go, it will all dissolve and morph back into his bleak reality.

Vander softens, resting his head against the crook of the other man's neck. A content sigh leaves his nose and ruffles the hair on the (h/c)-haired man's head. “(Y/n).”

“Sheesh, even he recognised him way faster than you did.” The blue-haired woman jabbed at her sister, the corner of her mouth pulled up in a teasing smirk. Her facade breaks as she sees a hand outstretched in her direction.

(Y/n) reassuringly squeezes her hand, a wide smile on his lips as he unburies his head from Vander's fur and turns it towards his daughter. “Thank you.”

“You don't have to thank me. You love him as much as we do,” she laughs bitterly. Her hand, albeit hesitant, holds his tighter.

“I do. I don't know how you found him or what happened, but you brought me back to him. I haven't felt like this in so long.” His voice sounds choked, and he looks back at the pair of blue and yellow eyes, his hands caressing the rough skin. He feels Vander's strong arms curl around him, and the fur tickles his neck and arms, warm and comforting. “I love you,” he whispers in the man's ear, loud enough for only them to hear it.

“Love... you.” He answers back.

#male reader #x male reader #xmalereader #malereader #arcane #arcane x male reader #vander x male reader #vander x reader #arcane x reader #warwick #vander #warwick x reader #warwick x male reader #reader #x reader

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kiame-sama · 5 months ago

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Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 6

(Quickly running out of Monster men drawings to use as my chapter pictures. May be a hot minute until I get the next chapter out since my laptop can barely stay conscious long enough to draw another one and I want to only use the monster AU versions of the characters for this series.)

Warnings; multiple yanderes, platonic yanderes, romantic yanderes, monster AU, eating Humans mentioned, more AU history, Cater is not having a very Cay-Cay day, food is an excellent way to bring groups together, Fauns, Satyrs, Kelpies, Crow Fae, Unicorns, Water Nymphs, vampire bats, dragons, cervitaurs, Raiju, Mermen, Cecaelia, Gnolls,

~~~~~~~~

Lunch finally rolled around and you were surprised that Ace and Deuce had actually taken Trey's words seriously and accompanied you to classes. Ace had loudly complained about his volunteering for a little bit but once he saw how many students actually took an interest in you, he stopped complaining and started viewing the task as a kind of important role only he could do. Naturally, Deuce was far less irate about the situation though there were times he almost came across as a punk when it came to others trying to harass you. Both had adjusted well to being around you and come lunch Deuce was actually taking pride in explaining things to you.

"-and that's what makes Fauns different from Satyrs."

"So Fauns are the nicer version of Satyrs?"

"For the most part. Satyrs are known for being loud and always wanting to fight-"

Ace cut Deuce off, shoving an uncooked carrot into the Faun's mouth to silence him. You had seen the two interact and you got the distinct feeling that the Faun and Satyr had more of a brotherly relationship with one another. Where they both had different personalities, when they did agree on something it was practically a law to them.

It was fascinating to hear that these monster men had similar names to the mythical creatures from your world and you wondered why such an overlap existed. Maybe the Humans from your world did interact with this world in the past, or maybe it was just a coincidence. Still, it seemed almost too close to be mere coincidence.

"Anyway, now that Dunce here is done talking-"

"You know my name is Deuce-"

"Like I said, now that Dunce is done talking, I have questions for you, (Y/n)."

You almost laughed at the back and forth banter of the two Goats- Faun and Satyr respectively- as their voices fumbled over one another. Truth was, you had been expecting far more questions than the few they threw at you between classes, so now was as good a time as any to ask.

"Okay, what do you want to know?"

"So, you don't have magic? Like, at all?"

"No magic whatsoever. Where I came from, magic is a myth and no creatures have magic."

"Okay. But how do Humans survive? No horns, no claws, nothing to protect themselves from bigger creatures."

"We make weapons. I know you all have bows, arrows, and knives, we have the same. Guns too, but I haven't seen any guns used here."

"Wait, what is a gun?"

"Basically an automatic bow that fires little pieces of metal using explosive powder that needs a spark which launches the metal through their target."

Ace seemed almost excited by your vague explanation of a gun, opening his mouth to ask you another question. His voice died in his throat as his gaze locked onto something behind you, prompting you to turn around to look at whatever it was that had unsettled Ace.

Standing not too far from you was the large figure of the Horse-man Trey. Ace told you he was a Kelpie, but you just couldn't make that connection seeing as he looked like a big white horse and not a water kelp-horse like Kelpies were supposed to be. He was clearly making good on his threat to check in as he approached you with a patient smile on his face.

"Hello (Y/n), have Heartslabyul's first-years been adequate guides for you today?"

"Yes. Grim doesn't even have to try half as hard to keep me safe now and I haven't been late to any of my classes other than the first one."

Trey gave a genuine smile at this, nodding his head as he was pleased to know his choice had been a good one. Seeing the centaur made you wonder about Cater and what may have become of the air-head student. In some ways, you worried asking would have a negative effect, but you were so curious you couldn't help but inquire about him.

"So... What happened to Cater?"

"He is being dealt with by the Headmage. He's lucky he isn't going to get expelled for what he did, but once the Headmage is done with his punishment, he's going to be turned over to Riddle."

"Is Riddle mad about all of this?"

"Well... I actually haven't told Riddle yet. He has a short fuse and isn't going to take Cater's actions well, especially since he asked both Cater and I to protect you if we happened across you. Odds are Cater is going to be collared and kicked out of his room for the foreseeable future."

This made you frown in contemplation at the prospect of the Red-haired student being punished too harshly. Though you were upset Cater took photos of you without asking and likely set several poachers on your trail, you didn't want harm to come to him. Sure, he was stupid and made a stupid choice, but he shouldn't be hurt or kicked out of his home for it.

"... If he is kicked out of his room, is there anywhere else he can go?"

"No. Riddle is very strict about rule-breakers being banned from the dorms so long as they have one of his collars on, and most other dorms aren't keen to house a student that isn't theirs. He's probably going to be sleeping in the Heartslabyul lake if Riddle doesn't ban him from there too."

The morality of the issue weighed on you and made you worry about the ditzy redhead. Though you didn't really trust Cater or his clearly impaired decision making skills, you still felt like he deserved basic decency despite his actions. You knew firsthand how the creatures that lived around campus were genuinely terrifying and dangerous, so you didn't want him thrown to the metaphorical or actual wolves.

"Can... can Cater stay in my dorm?"

Your question earned you several dubious looks from the Goats and Trey as if you had grown another head or said something unhinged. Even Grim had to pause his hesitant raw veggie medley- the only thing the cafeteria served today- to stare at you in surprise.

"You- you want Cater in your dorm? Why?"

"Well, it wasn't like he knew what he was doing was bad, and I don't think he should be left outside for his poor choice."

"(Y/n), do you realize how vicious poachers are in Twisted Wonderland? You will be hunted every moment of every day because Cater couldn't keep himself from posting you to that stupid Magicam app he is obsessed with. The second you are unguarded you will be attacked. The Headmage is even considering assigning Sam and Vargas to your dorm just to make sure poachers can't get in, or even moving you to Diasomnia so Malleus can protect you. I don't think you understand just how seriously we need to take your safety."

"I'm just a Human though, I'm not a princess or someone important. Why all the fuss?"

Your comment made Trey let out a long and exasperated sigh, his gaze leaving your confused form as he tried to keep in mind just how new you were to their world. Humans were never just Humans in Twisted Wonderland, and them simply dying out has made a far felt ripple in the history of every known species. For so long, so many species had adored and tried to protect Humans, but even they couldn't save the fragile species from the hunger so many magic users had for their very flesh.

Most things in the technological realm and cooking realm- pastries and phones included- only existed because Humans led the way to them being invented. Even now, technology has been mostly stagnant for over a hundred years with only the Shrouds having any aptitude as far as advancements were concerned. Trey himself had Humanity to thank for his family's bakery and the many cuisines local to the Queendom of Roses.

"(Y/n), Humans have never been 'just Humans' to us. Maybe to Sunset Savana, but never to the Queendom of Roses. Even Briar Valley had laws in place to protect your kind from everyone else. I get you may not understand it, but compared to most other species, Humans were better than most in the emotional and critical thinking department. It was Humans creating new inventions, coming up with unique ideas, and above all else, peacekeeping between the various species and races to the point they were called Beast-Tamers. Most wouldn't even speak to their Fae counterparts until Humans got the two to interact amicably."

You were somewhat surprised to hear all of this, having been under the impression that Humans were mainly pets to the other species. It was interesting to hear what Humans were credited for and that despite all they did to help, they were still hunted as food until extinction. The few from Savanaclaw you interacted with had been both sides of the spectrum of threatening you or being peaceful to you and it made you wonder just what kind of species were still keen to get a taste of your forbidden flesh.

"Honestly," Trey continued, "I wouldn't be surprised if several Kingdoms and Queendoms sent ambassadors to take you away from Night Raven for your own safety. I just know the international law makers are going to have a field day the moment it becomes common knowledge that you're here."

It made sense that Trey was stressed about this, you knew from your own home how aggressively endangered and near-extinct species had to be protected, but you still felt Cater shouldn't carry all the blame. If it wasn't Cater, it would have been someone else. Just because he was the fool to do it first didn't mean that others wouldn't have tried or succeeded in the same endeavor.

"Still, if he gets kicked out of the dorms tonight, will you at least tell him I will let him stay with me?"

"If you really want me to," he sighed heavily, "I guess I can tell Cater about your offer. I won't tell Riddle though, knowing how that Unicorn is, he will actually harm Cater for even thinking about taking shelter with you after what he's done."

~•§•~

"HE DID WHAT?!"

Riddle was beside himself with rage and even stomped his hooves against the marble floors of the Headmage's office, almost cracking the stone with his rage. Cater was trying to sink into his chair and hide from the Sophomore Housewarden who was beyond the point of furious with the water Nymph. Not only did he get a dressing-down from the Headmage, but he was going to be thrown at the mercy of his own Housewarden who was known for being an absolute hard-ass on rule breakers.

"It wasn't like I was trying to target her! I just-"

"SILENCE! YOU WILL SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO, CATER DIAMOND!"

The firm tone Riddle used made Cater shut his mouth and bow his head, trying to avoid upsetting the Unicorn further. There was no way he would be able to go back to his room at this rate and odds are he would be sleeping in the forest if Riddle had anything to say about it. Plus, he still had that essay to write for Trein that was due tomorrow.

"He apparently took a selfie with (Y/n) and posted it to Magicam with hashtags indicating she is Human. By the time I got him to delete the post, it had been downloaded several thousand times. Since then I have already received a call from the Royal Sword Academy Headmage to confirm a Human lives here now, and what we as the heads of our schools can do to protect her. No doubt representatives from Briar Valley and the Queendom of Roses have already been dispatched and will arrive on the island soon enough, not to mention how many poachers are likely on their way here as we speak."

Cater knew how upset Riddle was given the fact the Unicorn's horn was humming loudly with magic and the Unicorn himself was a bright red. Things really weren't coming up Cay-Cay today.

"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"

~•§•~

You felt a bit more comfortable with the school as a whole by the time classes had finished for the day. Practical Magical Theory was an interesting class, even if you really didn't have the faintest idea what they were talking about. According to Ace, you were lucky you didn't have Flight Class because there was a high chance you wouldn't be able to participate in the class itself. Still, you were happy to have a moment to let things settle down for a bit.

Ace and Deuce walked you to your dorm, but had been called to Heartslabyul by a quick text from Trey, leaving you alone in the dorm with Grim. Despite the beginning of the day being an absolute wash, the rest of the day hadn't been too bad. It was around this time you decided you may as well start on making some dinner. You could hear Grim's stomach growling already as you both went to the kitchen.

"Are you gonna make something good like you did for breakfast?"

"I'm going to try to."

"What are you gonna make?"

"Well, I was thinking we have the stuff here for a really nice soup-"

You were promptly cut off by the Kitchen door swinging open with a loud bang. Clearly, you were going to have to tell the professors or even the Headmage Crow about securing that side door given how it had already been used twice by others seeking to get into your dorm. Luckily for you, those that walked through the door had at least two familiar faces in the group.

"Sorry for interrupting," Lilia called out, happily making his way over to you in an almost bouncy gait, much like a bird hopping around, "hope you don't mind I brought Malleus, Silver, and Sebek too. I heard one of the Heartslabyul students blew the whistle on you being here in NRC. Figured you could use a bit of extra protection in case any poachers try their luck. Besides, the nest here is just as big as Malleus' nest in Diasomnia."

It was then Malleus spoke, his voice a deep rumble in his chest as he looked over you.

"They will not lay a hand upon my hoard without paying with their lives for such a transgression."

It was clear the Dragon was not happy with the events that took place and he seemed to be quite content claiming you as one of his Hoard. When Lilia explained it to you last night, apparently the moment Malleus decided he was adding someone to his Hoard, he became extremely attached to that person and would even become violent in their defense. Given the way others talked about him, he must have been a genuinely frightening and powerful person to command such fear and respect.

"... So does that mean I'm making soup for all of you or..?"

"If you don't mind. I certainly want another bite of your cooking, (Y/n)!"

Lilia took his perch back on the counter and swung his feet, seeming rather impish and almost childish in his behavior. You just shrugged and nodded, gathering enough ingredients to feed the group several times over. Your hope was that there would be some left over for you to take during lunches. As nice as it was to have raw foods once in a while, you'd rather your meals be cooked.

Grim clearly only trusted Lilia and sat next to the Bat to watch you bustle around the kitchen. He even let out a soft purr when Lilia began to pet his forehead and ears. Where you would have scolded them for sitting on the counter, it wasn't like you didn't have enough counter space already. Starting the broth and preparation was rather simple for you and it was clear those standing around you were keen to watch you prepare the soup.

"(Y/n)," Grim meowed, "where did you learn to do all this fancy stuff?"

"Humans usually cook their food. So I just learned while growing up. Of course there are some things you can have without cooking, like a sandwich or a fruit salad, but most big meals are better cooked. Now, that doesn't mean every Human can cook well, but most are good enough at it."

"So does that mean I can have more of the food you cook?"

"Like a bigger portion? No. But you will always get to have some of whatever I make, okay?"

Grim purred loudly at this, his face lighting up with an excited smile. Clearly the little creature was pleased with your arrangement even if it meant he had to go to boring classes with you. The food was absolutely worth it and he got to sleep in a mountain of pillows and blankets after a long day. It was all way better than the hole in the ground he occupied when he wasn't actively running for his life before he met you.

Once you got most of the soup started, you knew it just needed to be covered and cooked, listening idly to Lilia talk with the others about the events of breakfast and the Gnoll that invited himself in. It was when you finally got this moment that you took a good look at the other two visitors who were either Silver or Sebek, seeing as Lilia didn't point out who was who.

Much to your surprise, one of them reminded you of the Kelpie and Unicorn you had met earlier but he had an obvious three point antler rack attached to his head. His lower half was that of a reindeer and was fairly fluffy compared to the short coats of the Kelpie and Unicorn. Part of you wanted to test if he was as soft as he looked, but you figured it would not be considered appropriate to pet him.

The second new face was an almost canine like man with pale green hair that was slicked back and spiked up at the ends. His eyes were intense as was the apparent scowl that held his features, two sharply pointed dog ears atop his head. Bright yellow-green eyes tracked your every move and regarded you with as much curiosity as you regarded him. The similar medium length tail fur swayed lazily as his tail slowly began to wag when you looked at him.

The soup was beginning to smell rather good and it was clear four of the five others in the kitchen were taking note as they occasionally sniffed the air. Lilia, Grim, Silver, and Sebek were clearly keenly interested in the scent but it was Malleus' behavior that caught your attention. Instead of sniffing or lifting his nose as the others did, his forked tongue slowly slid from between his lips like a snake as if he were tasting the air. You almost laughed at the oddly reptile behavior before his gaze suddenly snapped to the door of the kitchen.

Standing in the doorway was a curious looking man that seemed to have fins on the sides of his head. His almost scaled skin had a kind of faint green tint to it with intense blue undertones, his eyes being two different colors with the right one being a pale gray and the left one being a bright gold. Atop his head were tousled blue-green locks with a singular black stripe that crossed over his forehead above his left eye.

"Oya, it seems I'm not the only one with culinary interests. Apologies for intruding, but the lovely smell drew me in. Would you mind telling me what it is you're making?"

You were surprised to see the almost Fish-like man despite how polite he was being with you. Instead of hopping in to defend you, Lilia looked at you for what you wanted to do with this interloper. Malleus seemed rather keen to rid you of this newcomer's presence but you held up a hand to stop him from acting. Part of you worried this new visitor was dangerous, but because he was wearing a school uniform you figured he was just another student.

"Soup?"

"... May I ask what kind?"

"Only if you tell me your name first and what you were doing around my dorm."

"Ah, forgive me. It seems in my haste to get to the heart of the matter, I forgot my manners. My name is Jade Leech, I'm the Vice-Housewarden of Octavinelle. I'm going to assume from your appearance you are the highly talked-of Human now living on campus. Azul informed us that you would be remaining here for the time being. As for what I was doing, I am rather interested in the foods that grow wild above water, so I was out gathering some mushrooms to sample."

He lifted the foraging bag that hung over his shoulder, showing you the contents within. He was right in that he had gathered up a fair few number of mushrooms and there were several that you actually recognized. You were no master of mushrooms- of course- but you still recognized a few species that were safe for you to eat, seeing several button mushrooms among the many gathered.

Those would be great in the soup you were making, and it was early enough that you could add them right in and they would cook just fine.

"Okay, Jade. I believe you were at least out gathering mushrooms which is innocent enough. I'm actually curious if you wanted to trade for some of those button mushrooms you have, they'd go great in the soup I'm making. In return I'll tell you about it and you can have some to eat if you'd like."

Jade actually seemed to brighten up at this, his smile becoming less strained and his expression smoothing from the stressed way his brows had been pulled together. It was almost as if he had been wanting to ask for some soup but was far too polite to actually inquire. He nodded and set his bag on the counter, letting you pick out the little rounded white mushrooms from the selection he gathered.

"I'm quite partial to the cuisines the different kingdoms have to offer. Rare as it can be to find those who are masters of their craft, I would still like to sample the meals above the ocean waves. I would be grateful for whatever knowledge you can share with me. It isn't every day that someone adept at cooking graces this school."

"Hey," Grim interrupted loudly as you set to dicing the mushrooms, "that's my Hooman you're talking to! She only cooks for me, but I'm kind enough to share with all of you. Don't forget it, got it?"

Jade gave a rather patient simper to your primary companion, resting his right hand over his heart in an almost polite gesture.

"But of course. I'm simply interested in learning to make such meals for myself. I'm certain Azul and Floyd would be keen to taste such a wonderful smelling dish."

This seemed to satisfy your little companion as he nodded with a pleased smile, watching you add the mushrooms to the rather large pot you decided to make the soup in. Thankfully it was a cauldron type pot made for cooking soups over firepits. The fire so dutifully warming your meal crackled pleasantly even as you stirred the bubbling mixture.

"Do you want to ask them to come over, Jade? I made way too much. Honestly, everyone here could all have a bowl, a second bowl, and I would still have enough soup for the rest of the week. I think I went a little overboard in the food department. Should have probably started with a smaller pot, but we're already this far..."

Jade seemed surprised at this, but nodded respectfully and pulled out his phone. You were curious just what Jade was as you really hadn't seen many fish-men during your day, but you weren't going to ask him. If he wanted to tell you what he was, that was his business. Didn't make you any less curious though.

"If you're certain? I'm sure Floyd will be thrilled to have something new to try. He doesn't like some mushrooms, but I don't believe he has tried the ones you've selected, and he certainly hasn't tried cooked mushrooms yet. Azul may try to heckle you into a deal, however. He is always looking for new ways to improve the Monstro Lounge."

"Yeah, of course I'm certain. I offered, didn't I?"

He nodded and began tapping away at his phone, but Lilia seemed rather keen to speak up. The Bat had been listening keenly to the conversation and felt he needed to make himself clear to the notoriously crafty student.

"If Azul threatens (Y/n) or tries to force her into a deal, we will have more than a few problems, understood?"

"He is aware. Believe it or not, those of us from the Coral Sea are actually quite fond of the legacy of Humans. Even Floyd has been babbling excitedly about meeting (Y/n) here."

"That's right, Humans were popular among the various merfolk kingdoms. You all even have a famous story involving the mermaid princess falling for a Human and joining him on land."

"Yes. She struck a deal with The Sea Witch to gain legs she could use to dance for the Human man she fell in love with, too bad the deal didn't hide her gills or fins though. Still, the Human loved her."

You listened to the conversation as you stirred the soup, glad that all of the flavors seemed to be coming together rather well despite the large amount of food you found yourself making. Judging from the conversation Lilia and Jade happened to be having, Jade was a Merman of some kind and apparently Mermen were one of the 'safe species' for Humans to interact with. Though you knew not to judge an individual by the species, it did put you at ease to know he was one of the safer ones.

It was as you were taste testing the soup that the door to the kitchen once again flew open as another visitor invited themselves in. It was offical now, four times proved it was far too easy to get into your dorm through that door. Maybe Lilia would be able to fix it for you, or Malleus seeing as Lilia said it was the Dragon who had mostly fixed up your current abode.

"(Y/n), you're an absolute angel! I thought I was going to have to sleep in the woods once Riddle temporarily banned me from Heartslabuyl! He won't even let me sleep in the lake even though I'm a Lake Water Nymph because of what happened. You believe me when I say I didn't mean to put you in danger, right?"

Cater had thrown himself at your feet, holding onto your legs as if he were some abandoned pet seeking shelter from a blizzard. Around his neck was a thick metal collar that extended out to the sides in black and red colors, forming a heart-shape that locked in the front with a golden and black padlock. He was careful not to get in the fire that was dutifully cooking your soup even as he groveled at your feet.

"O-oi! What's the big idea with everyone coming in that door? It's dangerous to leave that thing unlocked."

"That's what I'm saying! So much for protected and safe with that thing in here."

You couldn't help but slightly grin at Grim as he voiced your own concerns out loud. Lilia simply regarded the door, snapping his fingers to close it as a large metal bolt affixed itself to the door before clicking into place.

"There. Now it can't be thrown open anymore. But why is Cater here? Cater, when did Riddle collar you and why?"

Cater seemed to realize there were others standing around you as he suddenly straightened up, clearing his throat and taking several steps back from you. He tried to play off the desperate display he had just shown and was failing miserably. Cater looked much worse for wear than you remembered him being and you genuinely began to hope the Unicorn hadn't actually harmed the ditzy redhead.

"Well... I may have 'accidentally' posted a picture that told everyone that (Y/n) was a Human and was on NRC grounds, but I totes didn't realize it would put her in danger! Honestly!"

Lilia's bemused smile almost instantly fell away into a glare as he regarded the man standing by your side. You added a bit of salt to the soup as you wated, watching the thick broth bubble and roil with vegtables and diced meat. There were a lot of things you could do in that moment, but something told you it was best to let Lilia handle this situation.

"And what did you think was going to happen, Cater?"

"Tbh, I thought that I would just get a follower count boost and everything would be fine. The Headmage and Riddle sure made it clear I was wrong for thinking that. Lessons learned!"

"It only cost us the safety of the last Human left in Twisted Wonderland."

"I said I was sorry!"

Everyone except Cater seemed to be exceptionally upset as they all glared at him, making him duck behind you as if you were the best shield from their rage. You just let the tall student try and fail to escape the ire of the others. For once, a polite knock came at the kitchen door, breaking off the aggressive staredown taking place.

"Hey, why are we here, Azul?"

An almost sing-song voice hummed from somewhere on the other side of the door, prompting Jade to walk over and open the door for who you assumed to be the two he was talking about. In strode a rather lovely looking man with snow-white hair and shining mauve blue eyes hidden behind thin framed glasses. Around his face were lovely and intricate black markings that reminded you quite a bit of the tentacles of an octopus. Behind him lumbered a rather tall man who almost looked identical to Jade if not for the swapped eye color and slight difference in height.

"We're here because Jade told me there is a profitable venture to be had and I am not going to miss out on this chance to make the Human's acquaintance, Floyd."

The shorter one hummed in a smooth voice and you almost giggled at the rather fact-of-the-matter tone that the white haired one spoke with. You felt it was safe to assume the rather lovely man was Azul and the near identical to Jade fish-man walking with him was Floyd.

Floyd almost made a show of sniffing the air, following his nose to where you stood in front of the pot of soup, watching him curiously. Once his gaze fell on you a wide grin overtook the slight frown he had been pouting with. You could see the way his eyes trailed over your figure due to the bright yellow of his right eye highlighting his pupil as it darted up and down.

"Ne ne, what is such a cute little Shrimpy doing this far above the water? You're so small I just want to squeeze ya."

He took a single step towards you and this seemed to be enough for the two- Silver and Sebek- to suddenly intercept him with swords drawn, creating an 'X' that blocked the tall Merman from approaching further. It was more than a little surprising to see weapons suddenly drawn, but maybe you shouldn't be all that surprised. Lilia did say he came over to guard you again and even brought the others for the same purpose.

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt them, I just want a little feel on if Shrimpy is as soft as they look!"

"Floyd, that's enough. She was polite enough to allow me to invite you and Azul over and she is quite the rare specimen, you can't threaten her so casually and expect those guarding her to not be upset."

"I didn't threaten, I just said I wanted a big ol' squeeze."

"Same difference where you are concerned."

"Eh, you're so boring sometimes, Jade. Anyway, what is Shrimpy making over there? Smells good~!"

You were stunned at the almost aggressive behavior from Floyd given how calm and level headed Jade had been thus far. Maybe it was just a quirk of Floyd's to be a little more hands on than others. It honestly made you glad to know your self-appointed guards took their task seriously as they still refused to let the large Merman near you. Speaking of your guards, Floyd didn't seem put off by their aggression in the slightest and almost seemed amused by them as if it were all one big game.

Tension was thick in the air as the almost aloof Floyd smiled at you, watching you grab several bowls and begin ladling out ten total servings. You were not really all that surprised when there was still more soup to go even after you filled enough bowls for yourself and the ever increasing number of guests.

Maybe you were right to make so much after all. Hopefully your surprise guests had all shown-

"Why is the door locked? Hey, Human, I smell food in there! I already ate all the Dandelions from this morning! Can I have some of whatever you're making? Please? I'm starving out here."

Peaking through the windows to the kitchen was a familiar grizzled muzzle of the Gnoll you had met that morning. Ruggie was staring with those unsettling bright blue eyes and you were unsure if you wanted to laugh or scream. You scolded yourself in the back of your mind, remembering that animals would often return to places if they were given food prior and no doubt the Hyena man sought to do the same.

"Should I let him in, (Y/n)?"

Lilia asked, eyeing the lock on the door as Ruggie began to loudly whine and cackle for attention. You just sighed and nodded, knowing the Hyena wasn't going to leave now that he knew there was food ready and waiting just inside.

"May as well."

The Gnoll was quick to enter once the door opened and he happily grabbed one of the ten bowls, immediately scarfing down the soup without even glancing at the now large group of men standing in your kitchen. You didn't bother offering a spoon to Ruggie as it was clear he didn't need or want one. Despite the odd group that had gathered under your roof- technically it was the school's roof, but now wasn't the time for semantics- they all seemed keen to dig in when you passed out the bowls.

Getting yourself a bowl- seeing as Ruggie had taken one of the ten- you were able to finally take in the meal of your labors. It wasn't half bad and those button mushrooms added just the right earthy flavor that really brought the soup together. All of your visitors clearly liked the soup as well and Grim was the first to ask for seconds.

"Miss (Y/n)! This is a fantastic meal! I don't think I've had such flavors in anything I've eaten before! I would only think a meal from my liege could possibly taste better!"

"Sebek," the white haired one interrupted the shouting one, "you don't need to yell at her."

"I'm talking at an adequate volume, Silver. You dare say this meal isn't divine?"

"That's not what I said at all."

Lilia giggled as the two odd characters argued, hopping off the counter to serve himself another helping of the plentiful soup. Despite the absolute lack of respect for your personal space they all seemed to share, you couldn't help but smile as well. The many men you had met were odd and so unique in many ways but none of them actually seemed all that bad once they relaxed and got talking.

Maybe these monsters weren't as monstrous as you thought when you first met them. Hopefully their worries of poachers would just prove to be worries, but you knew you weren't truly safe yet and anyone could be a threat if they genuinely wanted to be. You just hoped there wasn't another shoe waiting to drop on your peaceful evening.

~•§•~

"Trey?"

"Yes, Riddle?"

"Invite (Y/n) to tomorrow's Unbirthday party. It has become rather clear to me that no one can look after her the way the Queen demands, so I will step up and take on that task."

"Riddle..."

"She will be safe with me, I will do whatever it takes to ensure it."

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #my monster au #twst monster au #Humans Are Extinct TWST AU

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sucodelaranja86 · 1 month ago

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Baking n shared kisses w Hyun-Ju perchance?😇

- baking with Hyun-ju : ★

featuring: hyun-ju cho x reader

summary: money is getting tight, so your girlfriend is teaching you how to bake a cake for your upcoming birthday.

warnings: none.

genre: fluff

A/N: This request is so cute what ;33

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

➤ "No, no, no. You don't stir with a metal spoon."

You were currently getting scolded for your 3rd error that night. Baking shouldn't be that hard! You had bought the idea of making your own cake as a way of saving for some money for your upcoming birthday, but it seemed baking was just not for you.

"Cmon, Hyun-ju! Everything i do is 'wrong' or 'not right' now?" you objected, already annoyed with how many times she had corrected you in just the making of the icing.

"It is if you don't do it right." she affirmed, her voice a bit stern. She then continued, "And you're the one who asked me to teach you, baking a cake is not the hardest thing to do. i could simply bake one for you without a problem."

"You're just saying that because you're naturally talented." you alleged, trying to get on her good side after having nagged her all night.

"Didn't you say you were having a hard time finding a job? Maybe you could just stay at home while i wor- ouch! What was that for?" you chanted in an exaggerated furious tone after receiving a slight slap to your nape.

"If you're trying to flatter me, it's not working." she retoned with a sigh, finishing picking up the necessary ingredients. After a few seconds, she added. "Now hurry up. If you're having a hard time with the easiest part, then you're not gonna last much longer."

After giving the icing part to her, you followed her directions to the hilt (mainly to not get slapped again). You started by pre-hesting tue oven, and then started mixing the ingredients in a separate bowl for the batter. Eggs, milk, butter, flour, sugar, baking powder... This was kind of fun!

You added a bit of vanilla to the mix, smelling already a good scent coming from the bowl. However, your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a sudden peck to your lips, surprising you for a second.

You look up to see Hyun-ju smilling satisfied at you."See? When you follow my orders correctly, things don't go wrong." she gently assured you. However, she could notice your dream-stuck face, and an idea immediately popped into her head.

"There is much more from where this one came from. If i notice you are doing it right, i might reward you, lovely." she whispered teasingly while giving your nose a playful bop, getting it a bit dirty from flour.

"Yes, ma'am!"

"It burned a little..." you mutter disappointingly, turning you head up to look at Hyun-ju, waiting for what she was going to say.

"You overcooked it for some minutes." she acclaimed. You look down, upset that you managed to ruin the perfect dough you prepared so proudly. Hyun-ju, however, noticed your melancholy, and quickly bowed down a bit to you level.

She puts her hands on each of your shoulders, whispering softly in hopes to soothe you. "Don't worry, nobody gets it perfect on the first few tries. I'm very happy i got to spend time with you, sweetheart. You're sweeter than any cake we could have baked today." she assured you.

She then turned you delicately towards her, putting her hand on your cheek and kissing you. Her docile methods quickly lifting up your mood.

As you both separate from each from each others lips to breathe, you give her a confident look, smirking slightly while proposing the following suggestion.

"You're still gonna bake me a cake for my birthday, right?"

with a sigh, she responded.

"Yes, my dear. I am."

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

#cho hyunju #hyun ju x reader #player 120 #cho hyun ju x reader #squid game #squid game headcanons #squid game x reader #squid game x y/n #squid game x you #cho hyun-ju x reader

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jinxlovebot · 1 month ago

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“i love you, jinx.” - jinx x fem!reader fluff oneshot!!

…………………………………………………………………………………

Y/N and Powder have been friends forever, constantly by eachothers sides and never leaving. Powder promised her when they first met that she’d always be her best friend no matter what. So, when Silco took in Powder obviously Y/N followed.

Years later…

Y/N tiredly walks towards Jinx’s workstation after a long day working with Sevika, all she wanted was to see her bestfriend who she had been crushing on ever since they first met. Y/N was never going to tell her because she was too afraid of loosing her.

“Jinx! Im back.” Y/N shouted over the booming music. No reply. Typical, Y/N thought as Jinx was working on her bombs banging and swaying her head side to side on beat. This time she shouted louder,

“Jinx!”

“Thats me! Oh hey sugar! Watcha got there?” Jinx hops out of her chair pushing up her work glasses to her forehead and takes the box out of her hands and opens it. Y/N had brought back scrappy pieces of metal, screws etc. for Jinx (mainly to impress her) to use on her work.

“Are these for me?” Jinx teasingly asked, leaning forward close to Y/N’s now flushed face. “Y-yeah, hm! I saw the box when i was out with uh, Sevika! and she said i should bring them back for you!” Jinx smirks and walks back to her work bench and places the box down, “Sureee, Sevika. Thanks sugar for bringing these back!” , she says as walks down along one of the huge propeller fans towards her couch and pats beside her.

“So, what have you been up to all day?” Y/N akwardly asks, making small talk. “Ya know, working, listening to music… Y/N? Can i ask you something?”

Fuck.

Y/N thought of all the worst possible things. Maybe Jinx knew how she felt? Would she think she was weird?

“Yeah! What is it, Jinx?”

Jinx scoots closer and puts her left leg over Y/N’s. Crossing them, she then puts her arm upon the back of the couch.

“Do you like me?”

Y/N froze. Oh no, she knew all along! And she.. looks not weirded out at all?

“J-Jinx.. How did you know?”

“It was pretty obvious idiot. Seriously your a terrible faker!!”

Jinx giggles and tucks Y/N’s hair behind her ears. “But, dont worry cupcake. I like you too.” Jinx kicks her legs down and straddles Y/N’s lap, she leans in and lightly kisses her soft lips. When parting, Y/N grips the back of Jinx’s head and kisses her passionately before pulling away and gripping her tight.

“I love you, Jinx.”

“I love you too, Sugar.”

………………………………………………………………………………….

i am literally so obsessed with Jinx lately!! She literally makes me feral ugh i love her, and for some reason i feel like she would call her girlfriend sugar… idk 😼 anyway, lmk if you guys want more!! thinking of posting a smut w her hehe

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yandere-wishes · 6 months ago

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˚｡✮ Yandere! Darth Vader {Anakin Skywalker} x Apprentice Reader

˚｡✮ Bad, bad news, One of us is gonna lose I'm the powder, you're the fuse, Just add some friction, You are my strange addiction

˚｡✮ We've talked about Yandere! Anakin Skywalker falling for Padawan! Reader... But what about Vader falling for his acolyte/apprentice?

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ★⋆.˚

Vader isn't nurturing.

It feels almost sacrilegious to entertain the thought.

That's why it's so troubling when the galactic empire's staff take note of a smaller morbid figure trailing after the ebony monstrosity.

I can see there being many interesting scenarios in which Vader would pick an acolyte. The most heartwrenching and particularly curious case would be if his acolyte used to also be Anakin Skywalker's Padawan.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader searching for you across the galaxy. He feels your force signature reverberating inside him, calls out to it, tries to bind and morph it. A sardonic love letter he pens with rage and perplexion. Still, you always slip away. He keeps your hunt a secret, some ancient wound that's never healed right. The swing of your saber still haunts him, your satisfied grin as you land a blow on him. The force works in mysterious ways and Vader's desperation can't fully be reasoned. He's given up everything that Anakin once had. Forgone to an almost spiritual level. But you are the one pesky thing that still lingers. He likes to think that it's because he knows your true power. That you're a threat as long as you live.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader finally, finally finding you. Mesmerized by how much you've grown. You're rugged, wild. Some strange creature wearing the skin of the girl he once loved. You don't hesitate to attack, and Vader signs it off as a blessing. He needs a reason to hurt you, to drag you back kicking and screaming. He needs an excuse to push his fury between your bones and drown you in his sorrows. He needs revenge in the worst way.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader winning because of course he does. He leaves you bruised and broken, bleeding on the soft grassy ground. Your eyes are so beautiful when they're filled with terror. Your voice melodic as you scream in agony as his saber severs your leg and arm. Vengeance, Vengeance, Vengeance. You left him, left him to face Obi-wan alone, left him to be mutilated and disfigured.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader only coming to terms with who he is, and what he is as he's watching the medical droids repair your body. He can never escape Anakin, cause that's who he still is. Anakin hasn't died just grown. He's no longer the kid with a schoolboy crush on his pupil and supernovas under his tongue. He's swallowed the burning stars, let their fires and explosions paint him in shades darker than the nights on Tatooine. He runs a cybernetic hand across your head, feeling you for the first time in forever.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader training you once more. It's been months since your capture, months of brutal and tender torture. He's ripped you apart and rearranged you so meticulously. Picking favored parts to hem and sew with a buzzing red needle and dark doctrines. Only when Vader notes the red-rimmed golden shift flicker across your eyes does he know he's truly won. Your connection to the light is nearly completely severed. Your past is left to rot on the green planet. What stares back at him from the corners of the dark, damp cell is a creature forged of hate and malice. A sith in every way.

˚｡✮ Imagine Vader only ever happy when he's with you. He's finally free to train you as he pleases, to touch you as he pleases, to kiss you as he pleases. He's taken you to ice worlds to bleed kyber crystals and to Mustafar to forge your new armor. He kisses you on a battlefield littered with the corpses of dead resistance soldiers. Metal clancks against metal all wretched sinister love. You're beginning to love this new master, he's everything Anakin had repressed, he's everything you have always feared. But the thing you must realize about fickle fears is that once you fall in love with them, you begin to lose yourself.

˚｡✮ Imagine Pulling up Vader's mask and kissing the burns across his face. Your kisses are laced with such passion and hate he feels like he's drowning in lava once more. He's brutal in the way he handles you, each touch leaving a plethora of bruises, singing I love you. You like the way each training session starts with a deep all-consuming kiss and ends with him using the force to smash your head into the ground as you laugh and laugh. His force signature is different now, you like the way it slithers across your body, all fire and pain, all destruction. Love the pain that comes with him, this grisly bloody love affair that makes the stars shutter.

The staff of the galactic empire, Find the little midnight creature all too bizarre.

She trails after their commander with vicious playful skips and plays uno with their lives. She twirls around the galaxy's most feared as if she's playing hopscotch.

The staff of the galactic empire doesn't know whether to feel pity or terror...

I think about how at the beginning of being Vader, Anakin was so quick to reject who he once was. Trying desperately to kill off any semblance of Anakin. But by the time of the Original Trilogy, he's sort of come to terms with who he is and who he once was. Anakin isn't really dead he's just grown stronger now, and in a strange way, he even seems to embrace his past as a Jedi, wearing it as - a not so obvious- badge of pride.

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megtrns · 2 months ago

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how to take care of your human 101 : a psa brought to you by the lost light crew. first contact au. sfw! with slight mentions of nudity.

a/n : to preface this, it was seven am in the morning and i was supposed to catch a train in about an hour or so to go out of town alone for an errand. but as i was putting on my skincare, i began to feel so overwhelmed that i started crawling back under the covers mid-makeup. and for the first time in what i think is forever, i woke up at noon, disoriented with powder smudging my pillows. and there was just a different kind of misery to look down at my phone to realise that not only did i miss my train, but half the day was gone. but then my flatmate came and told me i put too much pressure on myself, and suddenly it clicked on me. it's always a reality check when someone you care about tells you to your face that you've been pushing yourself too hard. this made me wonder how the bots would intervene when it was obvious that their human needed a mental health break.

ratchet suspiciously eying the young medic drifting down the halls of the sickbay like a wayward ghost: with sunken eyes and sluggish movements, running on what he assumed was a quarter of your designated sleep cycle. the last straw was when he caught you asleep at a broom closet, waking up in a panic and apologizing as if it wasn't his fault for assigning you the same shifts as the others, all of whom were part of a non-organic species that could run on an empty tank for months if needed.

feeling guilty, the cmo offered to send you home. you were stubbornly resisting until he said something along the lines of 'paid leave.' that was enough to send you skipping into the parking lot so you could nosedive into your bed. when you returned after the weekend, with a pep in your step and a smile across your face, first aid had wondered aloud that he didn't know humans could glow.

minimus would take it upon himself to run you a bath, lowering himself into the bathtub so your back could rest against his chassis, knees bent and legs intertwined with his. the water is warm and welcoming, sloshing onto the tiled floor as he adjusts himself to hug you from behind. here, in the blissful silence, the bathroom was wet with steam; the precipitation clinging onto the glass of his optics, creating a lazy, unhurried atmosphere that lulled him to the edge of recharge. he listens to the sound of your breathing, slow and calm as you doze off. and he would smile fondly at the sight of your resting, knowing that this was much needed for the both of you.

rodimus, mass displaced and laughing, standing under the pouring water of your shower. he makes the stall feel crowded, but you don't mind, dangling both arms around his neck as the captain washes your hair — skin to metal, hip to hip. he said something about how he loves the smell of flowers in your hair, servos firm yet gentle as they cradle your head. he wiped the soap dripping down your brow, peppering kisses all over your face to keep you awake. but you were drowning in bliss, content and lazy, thankful for his help and enthusiasm during the days when you couldn't even take care of yourself.

drift cleverly working his servos across your shoulders, down the curve of your neck to the base of your spine. already you can feel the muscles loosening, the strain from sitting too long, melting away under his ministrations. you were also in awe at how much control he wielded, precise and careful, never once hurting you with too much force. it was hard to believe that these were the same set of servos that struck fear into the sparks of so many mechs. as he presses a soft kiss in the square of your back, you can only sigh in delight against the pillow — putty in his arms and already drifting to a dreamless sleep.

ambulon would blearily open his optics to the yellow glow of the bathroom light pouring into the peaceful darkness of the room, recharge interrupted by soft noises. he slowly peels the soft blankets away from his frame to creep to the sound of your movements, the sight of you dressing before the sun has barely risen, tugging at his sparkstrings. he is aware humans need at least eight to nine hours of rest, and yet with less than six, his lover is already by the bathroom mirror repeating the same, tiring routine every week. one might think that his past as a decepticon and medic working in the lost light would make him a senseless partner, but it was quite the opposite, ambulon would give you the world if you asked. but maybe the closest thing you need now is a day to yourself.

so when you come home that day to the apartment spotless, the smell of fresh linen in the air and the sound of something delicious sizzling atop the pan; you can't help but cry by the doorway, your boyfriend nearly dropping the glass of high-grade he was casually sipping to rush to hug you — "are these happy, human tears? oh, okay, that's good. that's good."

swerve discovering that your birthday is coming up but you have no plans to celebrate it, too busy and too tired from the long weekday. the minibot wasn't too happy about this, deciding that he was going to fix it before the special date rolls around. this is how you find yourself walking into a surprise party, with candles and cakes and decorations dangling from the ceiling. you had screamed in delight at the sound of the confetti going off, immediately throwing yourself in the arms of your friend, rounds of laughter echoing in the room where all your giant friends have gathered to celebrate your coming into existence.

whirl noticing how the days you spend together have grown shorter and shorter each passing day, with you either rushing off to finish a deadline or already dressed to eat dinner with your new co-workers. the ex-wrecker insists he isn't jealous, no, of course not — he just hates sitting by the couch watching the clock tick away, unable to focus on his earth shows because you were always coming home so late.

so when whirl stopped you from putting your shoes on one morning to tell you that he had called your workplace to say you needed some time to yourself, you were struck by his thoughtfulness; feeling guilty that you never considered that whirl could do something so sweet. until you switch on the tv to hear the news anchor announce that the police needed help to identify an anonymous caller who had sent a bomb threat earlier this morning to your office. he says it was obvious that he wasn't going to do it — "what? i thought you needed the day off, sweetspark? it worked didn't it?"

you didn't know whether to be flattered or to call prowl and the local precinct that the search was over.

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thewritergx · 26 days ago

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Jackson: Joel Miller x F!Reader: Part 1

Summary: Sat 1 year after Ellie and Joel find a home in Jackson. Joel is plagued with thoughts of ruining the sweet girl his brother rescued. A series of Joel destroying all your innocence.

Warnings: Mentions of guns. Knife use. Smut Containing: Age Gap (Joel is 57, undisclosed age for reader but I picture her around 28). Praise Kink, Kissing, Fingering, Gentle Dom!Joel, Innocent Reader, Virgin Reader. Its giving corruption kink, lowkey free use kink at times. So many pet names I can’t even list them out.

Word Count: 5.5K

EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Please feel free to like and repost. Click here if you’d like more stories from me. Text divider from @plum98. Text Color Generator. If you'd like more Joel Miller stories, please go check out @pearlessance.

If Joel Miller had been told a year ago that he would be finding solace comfort between the legs of a woman half his age, he would have laughed until all the air in his lungs was depleted, leaving him bright red in the face. The last thing Joel ever considered himself was a ‘dilf’ but behind the impenetrable walls of Jackson, you were clinging onto him like he was made of the finest metals. A handful of gold and pearls in your unwavering grip.

He never meant for it to turn out this way. He didn’t mean to have you accidentally clenched around his fingers in an anguished void of eroticism. Yet there he was, dismantling every particle of decency he had remaining in his traumatized psyche.

Joel wasn’t sure why he was so intrigued by you. He couldn't point it to a singular trait or moment in time. Maybe you made him feel young again, like a teenage hot for teacher. Maybe it was the way your eyes wrinkled slightly when you smiled up at him. Maybe it was the way you leaned into his touches, no matter how faint. All he knew was that the sound of your voice stimulated his body with a deadly erotic static every time he spoke to you. Forbidden and illicit as your lips brushed against his.

Joel and Ellie had just begun settling in the new city when you showed up. It was a dull morning, the sun just starting to rise over the horizon as snow drizzled down the frozen air. Joel had been sitting on his newly furnished porch, polishing a rifle to perfection and sipping on a piping hot coffee. His tired eyes fluttered closed, warm steam from his mug hitting his face. He was never a fan of the cold, having grown up under the hot Texas sun, but he was starting to find peace in the frigid atmosphere. His usual racing mind was void, an uncommon and strange occurrence since the outbreak began. He allowed himself half a second of relaxation, his broad shoulders easing into a rickety vintage chair.

Even in this secure environment, he knew not to let himself get too comfortable. Startled by the image of his brother’s wobbling tracks against the snowy ground, his eyes widened. Tommy’s slender strides buckled. It looked like he was carrying something. Something Joel couldn't quite make out from the distance between them. He stood on alert, his coffee almost spilling as he slammed the porcelain mug on a feeble side table. Joel stomped through the arctic powder, a white-knuckled grip on his rifle. Tommy struggled to keep going, falling to his knees with a hard ‘thud’. Joel swore he felt his heart stop. The only audible sound was his blood vessels restricting, the air in his lungs hindered by his hasty steps. Tommy was never a weak man, but the time spent walking back to camp, the weight in his arms, and the heavy snowfall had exhausted him to the point of complete collapse.

“Tommy!” The concern in Joel’s tone was palpable, his strong arms grabbing his brother. Joel snaked his hands under Tommy’s shoulders, supporting his weight and pulling him from the soiled ground. Finally, Joel could recognize the undisclosed package in Tommy’s grip. A girl. She looked freezing, her cheeks a bright red and slow breaths crackled.

“Fuck, give her to me.” Joel’s heart pounded, rushing to take you in his arms. You were feather-like in his arms, weightless as he pressed you against his chest. The thin jacket you wore hardly provided any fight against the icy rain that trickled down but Joel had hoped his body heat would be enough to provide some type of warmth. He rushed you to the infirmary, his stride incalculable and unstoppable. He had practically thrown you inside, placing you under multiple layers of thick blankets. You looked almost peaceful, but your body was shivering and your skin a ghostly pale white.

Time passed and Joel, along with Tommy, had spent days at your bedside. They had made sure you were taken care of, helping you drink water, and making sure you got enough to eat. Strangely, Tommy was thankful for the practice, knowing a new baby was waiting for him at home. Once you had recovered and could leave the infirmary, you really didn’t have any other place to go except Joel’s. Tommy had found you alone in the woods, but he had just started his own family. Plus, It didn’t really feel right leaving Joel after he had watched you at your worst. Alone and with no other choices, you moved into the spare bedroom right down the hall from him and Ellie.

This particular day had been one straight from his most lustful nightmares. Like every day, he was in charge of weapon maintenance, foot patrol, and a newer annoyance. Training new recruits. Joel had not given much thought to teaching the younger members of Jackson how to protect themselves. But he was glad he could be of some use, especially with the way certain members still looked at him like he was a threat. Like he might bust down the doors in a blaze of ranging gunfire at any moment. He tried his best to build new connections, build a new life for Ellie and himself. A life his brother would be proud of. In the newfound dystopia he had begun to call home, he never expected you to be so motivating. You were a lot like him in certain ways. Quiet. Unapproachable. This made Joel want to do good, guarantee you were proud of him.

For the last three months, you had haunted the halls of what was once Joel’s newly perfect home. As perfect as you could these days, anyway. You were always lurking. Your tight little body sprawled out on the couch, your hair fallen forgotten in the bathroom sink, your toothbrush in the same cup as his. It was too much for an old man’s fatigued heart to take.

To make matters worse, Joel was in charge of training you. Every day, it was shooting, hand-to-hand combat, or teaching you how to use makeshift medical supplies. He hated admitting it, even to himself, but teaching you how to shoot a gun might have been the best thing left in this godforsaken world.

Joel would stand close behind you, wrapping his fingers around your hands to help you aim better. He would try to ignore it, but the way your tiny hands gripped the gun under his fingers was enough to spring his cock to life. He wondered if you could feel it pressed against your back as he leaned down, lowering his voice. His breath would be all hot and slow in your ear while he told you what a good job you were doing. You always tried to keep your reactions to his words internal, but god some days all you wanted was for him to press you against the wall and trap you against him as he explored your body with his calloused hands. Surely, he had to know. He had to sense how much you loved it, the simplest of touches having you weak in the knees.

Despite Joel's love for the shooting range, bullets couldn’t be wasted and through his discontent, you were a surprisingly great shot. That meant today’s focus was hand-to-hand combat. A special type of torment in which you quickly grew fond of. You worked on blocking punches, throwing someone off you, and other easy ways to stab the infected. This kind of practice often required Joel to push you around, grab you tight against him, or hover his full body weight above you.

Joel huffed, his chest expanding with each heavy breath as he laid under you, his muscles firming around your strong grip on you pinned his arms down.

“Ya learn quick,” he grunted, bending his knee to lock you in place as you sat atop him. This was one of the moments when he couldn’t stop picturing you naked. He imagined the way your tits would bounce in this position, perfect for him to wrap his hand around your throat or gently slap your cheek.

You pushed off him, holding a hand up as he struggled to pick himself up off the ground.

“Yeah well, you’re a good teacher”. You rolled your eyes, taking his hand in yours and balancing your weighing as you helped him off the plush grass.

“Yeah. Alright, square up. Let's go again, darlin” Joel stood in front of you, tightly wielding a sharp knife in his hands. He was always giving you pet names like that, the words falling from his lips and landing between your legs like rain. You watched as his jaw clenched, muscles in his arms flexing as he threw a jab at you. You swerved your body, quicking jumping out of the way and hitting the knife out of his hands. The blade landed with a thud, leaving Joel weaponless.

“Yes! See, that was perfect.” Joel smiled, his broad shoulders spreading as he stretched his arms out. He wasn’t lying, you learned far quicker than he liked to admit, the end of your training with him just a few weeks away. “That's enough for today. Gettin’ kinda late”. Joel patted your back, a simple praise of how well you performed.

All Joel really wanted at this moment was to get you underneath him, and not in the “pretend to fight me off” type of way. In a way that would have you whimpering his name and your legs quivering.

He tried to keep the invasive urges at bay, forcing himself as far away from you as the enclosed space of Jackson would allow. Even after avoiding you until dusk, your touch lingered on him like a parasite, eating at his tanned skin until it was all mushy and broken. He would be successful for a brief time, maybe even until the morning if he was lucky. Training you every day was gradually unraveling him. Bit by bit until he was losing control, a constant internal conflict raging inside himself. He could stay at a distance for now, but in the end, he could never truly escape you.

For you, that evening had gone by so painfully slow, your body begging for some type of release. You had slipped into a comfortable pair of panties, the material hugging your ass softly. You lazily threw on an oversized t-shirt and crawled under the thick blankets of your bed, heavy as a bag of rocks thrown down the stairs. The bed was warm and through exhaustion, your eyes quivered closed. Flashes of Joel’s hands on you, pinning you down and throwing you around invaded your thoughts. All the training along with your daily tasks had depleted every ounce of your strength, but Joel sent a jolting rush of stamina through your nervous system.

You let yourself lean into your desires, lethargically reaching your hands down to the bundle of nerves insistent on your affection. Any other day you might have been strong enough to ignore the ache, but today you were weak. Today you were consumed by it. Your hands found your panties in a pathetic desperation, a faint wet spot darkening the material at your core as you began to rub merciful circles. You bit your lip, a jagged inarticulate sound escaping. Your fingers moved delicately, needy and wet from an entire day of training, your subconscious daydreaming to get back into your room and play with yourself.

The only problem with this was you weren't really any good at it. You knew how it worked, all the parts, and what you were supposed to do with them. You just couldn't reach the ‘end’ that so many people raved about. You tried an endless amount of times, even thought about hooking up with random guys you had stumbled upon in the past. But it never felt right, forcing yourself to be with someone just because they were the only one around. You had decided the high that other women described must have been a complete lie. Still, you learned different angles, different ways to finger yourself, and all types of tricks. Something was always missing, an extra sensation that would push you over the edge always out of reach.

Your index and middle finger created a slight friction on your clit, a rough buttery sensation against your panties. Goosebumps formed across your body as you feebly slid the restricting cotton down, spreading your legs to give yourself better access to pleasure. You added some spit to your fingers, a hushed wail slipping as you continued making small circles, biting your bottom lip harder and throwing your head back. You shut your eyes tight, the sound of Joel telling you ‘Good girl, that's perfect’ and all his other innocent compliments replaying. You sped your movements up, adding more pressure to the sensitive nerves. It felt adequate, but you knew it wouldn’t last. You needed more. Delicately, you dipped your finger inside your crying pussy. Your walls gripped around your finger, sucking it in further like it was starving. You curled the digit, trying to hit that spot that was just out of range. You hardly grazed it, your g-spot unobtainable. After a lengthy time of great strive your finger became slick, drowned in your juices but nowhere closer to the finish line. You groaned, your arms already becoming tired from the relentless pumping.

“Ya know, you’re doin’ that totally wrong.” A familiar voice spoke out from the dim light of the room, a dark silhouette basked in moonlight.

You threw your blankets over you, jumping under the covers and removing your fingers quickly. You stared, frozen. Even in the dark with shadows hiding his facial features, you could make Joel out. Your mouth fell agape as Joel stood against the wall, his weight on his back foot. He crossed his toned arms across his chest condescendingly, watching in silence.

“Oh my god! You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing?” You spoke fast, voice revealing how obviously embarrassing the interaction was.

“Couldn’t sleep. Head a noise. Thought you were cryin’. Came to check on ya.” Joel took a step closer, his eyes dark and eyebrows furrowed in a slight frown. “Didn’t mean to interrupt but…I can see you’re strugglin’ I can help…If you want.”

You racked your brain to find the words adequate enough to articulate your racing mind, watching as Joel stood, shirtless and chest completely exposed. You could see him now, the muscles in his arms, the scar where he stabbed. God, you didn't get to see him like this nearly enough. In fact, now that you thought about it, you weren't sure if you had ever seen him shirtless at all. Greying hair lightly peppered his chest, a trail running from his belly button to the clothed fabric around his waist. You were nearly drooling, his boxers hugging his thighs.

“I-I”. Your chest rose and fell, your heart beating quicker than you were used to as you tried to make sense of his words. “H-help me ho-how?”

“Been standin’ here for a while. You're not comfortable enough, ya need to relax. To be honest, ya look scared,” Joel chuckled, his face a bit flushed but words nonchalant and composed. “I consider myself a pro in this area. I could show ya how to make it better.”

“I know how to do it”, you snapped. You cut your eyes at him, a sudden rush of anger slapping you in the face. Who was he to tell you how to masturbate? He didn't own a vagina. You doubted he could do it better than you.

Joel peered deep into your eyes, his stance at attention like a soldier in formation. He wasn’t going to budge. You knew he didn't believe you, not if he really had been watching like he said.

“Okay then, little girl. Show me…if you're so good at it”. Joel stood in place, like a stone unmovable.

You felt pathetic, peering up at him with white-hot embarrassment. A switch broke and you had given in so easily. You didn’t put up a fight for a second, your core pleading for your attention to return to the earlier movements. “O-Okay”, you whined, laying back down and moving the blanket towards the foot of the bed. You let yourself diminish into the mattress completely, your body on view for him. You trembled, silently spreading your legs and scooping up the wetness dripping out of you. You placed your finger back inside, humming at the little pleasure it gave you.

Joel let out a groan “That’s a good girl. Play with that pussy for me”. The tone in his voice was new to you, smooth like he had just drunk a hot tea. His jaw clenched shut, teeth clashing tight as sounds of your wetness vibrated off the walls. He wondered how often this occurred, how many times he slept through your cries of need. He moved across the room with a leisurely pace, sitting on the edge of the bed as he watched you sprawled out in front of him, body hypnotizing him. You felt the bed sag under his weight, achingly close but untouchable. You curled your finger more, listening to his hitched breathing and closing your eyes again. It was strange, him watching you like this. You tried your hardest to hit the right spot, letting out a huff of frustration and reluctantly removing your fingers, making circles around your clit again. It was clear to both of you. You had no idea what you were doing.

Usually, Joel preferred his women experienced, liked them a little loose and pre-used. He could be rougher that way, less careful, and more spontaneous. But fuck, you looked so fucking pretty, begging to cum but unable to do anything about it. He was sure he died and woke up in his personal heaven.

Fuck, he couldn't believe he was doing this. He was supposed to be the man keeping you safe, not the one sneaking into your bedroom at night and making a mess of you. Joel hummed, watching the slight shake in your legs grow with anticipation of a climax you would never reach on your own.

Before you could stop him, too focused on proving him wrong and torturing the both of you, he was gently grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand away from your aching pussy.

“Just let me... know ya need me. You were sayin’ my name, ya know?” The look in his eyes had changed from a hungry desire to a desperate soft plea, his voice a whisper in the suffocating quiet of the bedroom. He never had to be this cautious before, never really paying much mind to what his actions might result in.

You thought for a moment, looking into Joel’s eyes for any sense of danger. He didn’t turn away, didn’t loosen his grip. But in his eyes, you could see it, helpless wanting. His shoulders dropped as he waited for any type of response that would allow him to come closer.

“O-Okay,” you whined, “t-thank you”.

Joel crept forward, sympathetically hooking his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. Your back rested against his chest, legs on either side of his muscled thighs. His skin was smooth, warm like a campfire and his breath on your neck heated you even more under the chill of the snowy mountains. Throughout the months of getting to know the unmerciful brooding man, you had never gotten the opportunity to be this close, this intertwined.

“Like this, soft and slow” Joel whispered, positioning his fingers on the sides of your swollen lips. He moved unhurriedly like he had pressed a button and frozen time around you. In his mind, he never had to leave this room, all the time in the world to watch you fall apart. Tactfully he spread your lips apart to reveal the slick wetness leaking out of you.

“Fuck.” Three fingers hovered above your clit, the motions tender as they moved in repeated circles “What's got ya all worked up, pretty girl?” The pads of his fingertips absorbed the saliva you had paced there moments ago.

“Nothing,” you swallowed, your words already strained in the back of your throat. Despite your earlier presumption, Joel could do this better than you. He was proving you wrong each time his fingers slid across, shockwaves forcing you to admit defeat.

Joel hummed, watching his fingers soak in your juices. “Think it was probably me, huh?”

Shane crept up on your skin, your cheeks impossibly more flushed. You shouldn’t admit it. That it was him. That it was his words.“I-I…just like the way you talk to me, is all.” The words came out a strained whine, leaning into him and spreading your legs wider, watching his delicate fingers dancing across your needy skin.

“Yeah? Ya like when I tell you what a good job you're doin’? What a good girl ya are?” His voice was so light, his Texas accent almost innocent. Like he was talking to a baby.

“Y-yeah”, you nodded your head, the simple four-letter word feeling like a monologue as you spoke them.

“I do it ‘cuz I know ya like it”. Joel listened to the way you responded to his touch. He had to get this perfect. Had to make sure you knew he was more than capable of handling your little ‘problem’.

Quiet ‘ohs’ quickly streamed from you, Joel’s fingers melting you into him. You tried to keep quiet, hoping no one could hear you through the thin walls of the house. Joel silently prayed that Ellie was already asleep, his heartbeat thudding at the thought of her finding out what was going on in the room a few feet across from her.

Joel quickened his pace, your clit swollen around his fingers, thick arousal coating them. He hummed into your neck, and you tensed. “Relax”, was all Joel had to say for you to nod your head and stretch your neck out. His lips feel to the exposed skin, placing serene kisses under your ear. He left a burning hot trail with his lips, his beard brushing against the delicate skin. He sucked a bright red spot where he felt you liked it the most, low enough for your shirt to mostly cover but still marking you his. The added sensation caused you to stir your hips, your legs and hands shaking.

“Try and stay still, baby. Keep movin’ like that and you're gonna drive me crazy,” Joel mumbled, his free hand wrapped tight around your waist.

Joel dragged that hand up your body, placing it tenderly on your cheek. He turned your head as much as your neck would allow, a loud moan falling out of you as he brushed his lips against yours. His tongue danced liberally inside your mouth. Your perfect plump lips parted for him without a hint of hesitation, mint and beer thick on your tastebuds. His mustache kind of tickled, the hair grazing your lips. You tried to breathe through your nose as Joel sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, fingers still determined on shattering your sanity. You couldn’t remember the last time you kissed anyone, warm saliva spreading across your mouth and chin. You felt drunk against him, almost powerless in his grip.

Joel pulled away, a growl escaping him as you breathed heavily against him. “Goddamn. That’s my sweet girl”. You swallowed hard at his words, a sense of pride filling you.

“Can I put a finger in you, darlin’?” Joel slowed his circles, reaching lower, finally gathering as much of your natural lube as he could. He was collected, so much more confident than you.

You shook your head, a hesitant ‘yes, please’ was all you could respond. You were positive you looked a mess, but something told you Joel didn’t care.

Joel hummed, “Yeah? Do me a favor then, sweetheart.” Joel brought his hand to your mouth, fingers lingering on your lips. “Get those nice and wet for me”.

You hesitated, looking back at Joel to find his brown irises, darker and glazed over more than that usual. You self-consciously wrapped your lips around his fingers, only spreading your lips enough to fit them inside. Your teeth grazed against him, the rough pads of his fingers dancing across your tongue. They left a taste of your bitter-salty arousal thick on your tastebuds.

“That’s it. You always listen to me so well”. Joel’s cock twitched at the view of your cheeks hollowing around him. It was bizarre how kindhearted he presented himself, his usual rough exterior completely gone. You wondered if this was the real Joel, one no one else got to see.

Joel watched as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out, spit coating down to his knuckles. His breathing grew ragged, watching your eyes grow dark with lust as he hit the back of your throat. He studied your reaction, your eyes growing wider at the sensation of being so full. You strained, a muted cough slipping from you as he shoved them persistently deeper. You were taking them well, even through the obvious struggle.

Joel removed his fingers from your warm mouth, slick and shiny with a mix of your spit and slick. He lowered his hand to your clit again. Hesitantly, with eyes glued between your legs again, he slipped one finger past your folds and inside your velvet walls. You sucked in a deep breath at the feeling, startled as he curled his index finger. It was so much thicker, longer than yours and the gentle stretch flowed through your veins like water on a hot summer day.

“How’s that feel?” Joel tried not to focus on how fucking tight you were, his mind daydreaming of what you would feel like wrapped around him, all fucked out on his bed.

“Oh god,” you whined, voice shakier than you wanted it to be, and your hips returned back to that involuntary bucking. “G-good”. His finger brushed against your G-spot, little cries echoing in Joel’s ear. This was what you were missing all these years. A real man’s touch.

“I know, baby girl. I know. Gonna take such good care of ya, just like I always have” Joel placed a kiss on your shoulder, his finger pumping in and out at a controlled speed. His movements were like a drug, clouding your judgment. “Think you take another? Or is this too much already?”.

“P-please”, You tried not to beg too much, the pathetic whine in your voice striking Joel like a punch to the gut. Fuck, he would do anything you said right now. Anything.

“Always so determined,” Joel smirked, hypervirulently aware that you probably hadn’t taken this much before. Cautiously, he dipped a second finger inside you, stretching you with a heavenly sting. It was unfamiliar but invited and your body sucked him in further. It was more than your fingers could ever do and suddenly you understood why sex ruled everyone’s lives.

A wet sloppy sound filled the room and Joel pumped his fingers with a presentation purpose, a hint of strength behind each minuscule gesture. Joel growled, spreading your legs wider and pulling you further into him, fully in his lap now. You felt his bulge press against your back rock hard. You couldn't stop imagining how big he was. It felt so thick against you, like a 9.mm gun in his waistband.

His fingers were a velvet robe encasing you. It was almost too much and you felt an uncomfortable heat building in the pit of your stomach. Joel felt you clench tighter around him and he knew you were close. “There you go, sweetheart”.

“Oh fuck, wait wait wait.” You tried your hardest not to scream, but the squelching sounds Joel’s fingers created were pushing you over the edge.

You felt the man under you tense up, every fiber of his muscles firming. Regrettably, he stopped the movement of his fingers, leaving them frozen inside.

“What's wrong? You okay?” A thick hint of concern or maybe fear just behind his words.

“I-I…kind of felt like I was gonna pee, is all.” your cheeks flushed, burning with unease.

Joel hummed, moving his fingers again and ripping moans from you. “That’s good,” Joel chuckled, focused on keeping his fingers at a constant pace, “Means it’s workin”. He placed a hot trail of kisses down your neck again, biting at the skin.

You moaned at his words, that unfamiliar heat steadily finding its way back into you. Your legs shook almost uncontrollably, and you had to grip onto Joel's forearm to keep from slipping off his thighs.

“That’s it. Feel how you're clenchin’ ‘round me, gettin’ all wet and shaky under me?” You nodded at his words. “Just relax into me, baby girl.” You arched your back, biting your lip in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from screaming out.

The feeling of needing to pee was replaced with something unnamable crashing through your entire body. “Yes, oh my god!” you cried, throwing your head back and bucking your hips up into his hand.

“That’s it. Cum on my fuckin’ fingers,” Joel kept his moments sharp, making sure to coax out every drop the orgasm had to offer. After your shaking stopped and your cries settled back down, he eased his fingers out of you. Your arousal leaked down your core, a puddle forming under your ass onto the exposed skin of Joel’s thigh.

“Did so good,” Joel kissed your cheek, rubbing small circles on your clit again as you cried out. He grabbed your hand, kissing your fingers and trailing up your arms until he settled past your shoulder and into your neck.

“Oh, fuck. Thank you, Joel”. You weren't sure why you felt the need to thank him, but you had to make sure you said it.

“You’re welcome, darlin’. Know I'd do anything for ya, right?” His voice was soft and airy, slightly out of breath.

You tried to focus on his words, your orgasm still thick in your mind. You closed your eyes, a wave of exhaustion hitting you like a brick wall. You nodded your head silently, lips parting as your heavy chest rose and fell.

Joel smiled, he didn't even need to be inside you to feel euphoria. Being close, just talking to you was enough. Sex was just an added pleasure. But, fuck, he couldn't wait to show you more. He wanted to completely ruin you. He was a terrible person, he thought, but he didn't care at all. Not with the way you breathed against him, your head heavy on his chest as your eyes fluttered closed.

It would be weird to stay, Joel thought. As he silently watched your chest expand against him, the thought occurred that he might get too used to this, already craving to rewire you into a whining slut. A little toy he could at any time. He was stressed, overworked, and constantly worried about Ellie. About you. Maybe he had finally found a way to release some of that pressure, even for a moment. Joel ran his thick fingers through your hair, admiring the way your body benignly twitched at the sensation.

Sleep came and went in waves for Joel. Some nights, if he was so exhausted and worn out from a hard day of work, you could hear his snoring echoing through the docile home. Other nights you woke up to the sound of screams and then an earth-shattering quiet. Like he yelled so hard he woke himself up too. The mornings after a night like that always resulted in a moody, quiet Joel. Like his mind was racing with so many visions he couldn’t even speak. But right now, Joel’s mind raced with different thoughts. Less violent but just as powerful and forsaken. He wondered how far you would let him go with this little game. Maybe he could show you all the tricks he had built up over the years, all his experience preparing him for this. Leading up to please you. To make you his. It was wrong. He knew that. Of course, he knew that. But as your hand settled on his pectoral muscle, he felt nothing but unwavering satisfaction.

The town already hated him. He was already a mysterious murderous stranger. What would ruining a girl half his age really change? Sure he would be berated and probably receive double the glances of disapproval but as long as you were under him, begging him to fuck you harder what did any of it matter.

As he laid under you, his cock throbbing and begging to be released, he dreamed of shoving it in your mouth. He dreamed of watching you struggle to take it, choking on the head of his dick as it slipped between your supple lips. Maybe you would even like it, beg him for it when he was supposed to be teaching you how to live in a world full of danger. All the risk, all the pain and suffering this new era threw at him disappeared at the sound of your pleas. All he wanted was for you to gag on him with tears streaming down your face.

He was a bad man. He knew it because behind all the need, all the repressed yearning for your innocent cunt, there was not a hint of guilt. Not the slightest bit of sympathy. To be honest, it shocked him. He thought he would care more about disgracing you. He hoped he wouldn't even be able to function, intense and unweaving regret causing him to suck himself back into the dark reality of this world. But it never came. That was the first moment he knew for sure the people of Jackson had been right. He really was a bad man.

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