#Rubs my eyes. How do I stop thinking about her

[dragoneyelashart]

ride or cry (that is the stupidest name i've ever come up with, just go with it)

authors note: i finally wrote something other than angst (everyone cheer) warnings: smut

you were splayed out on silk pillows, hair a messy halo around you, skin slick with sweat, chest heaving. before getting bored and wanting to go annoy your girlfriend. bad idea though. billie had been edging you for hours making you grind down on her thigh while she worked, pulling you back every time you got too close. her fingers have been tracing slow, maddening patterns along your sides, lips brushing against the crook of your neck in teasing, featherlight kisses.

you whimper into her ear, hips stuttering as you press harder against her thigh, making the mess between your legs even more unbearable.

“you know, baby…” she murmurs, voice dripping with amusement, “i think you like when i tease you. hm?”

you nod helplessly, not even fully hearing her words—just chasing that high she keeps dangling in front of you.

“mommy, please…” you breathe, voice wrecked, trembling with need. “i just wanna be good for you…” she sighs, almost lazily, like she’s thinking about it. “mmm, but mommy’s tired…” she drawls, though there’s no real bite behind the words.

“please,” you beg, hips shifting uncontrollably, like they’re acting on instinct alone. “it hurts, i need you so bad, mommy…”

she clicks her tongue, eyes dark with faux pity. “tsk… my poor baby,” she whispers, brushing her fingers over your flushed cheek. “alright. come on, then.”

you climb onto her lap, shaky hands bracing against her shoulders. she holds you steady, her palm at your lower back, guiding you down slowly onto her length. you gasp, body arching as she fills you, the stretch making your thighs quake from overstimulation. you pause, breathing hard, letting yourself adjust before your hips start to roll. needy, languid, desperate. soft moans slip from your lips, little breathy whines that go straight to her core. billie watches you like you're a masterpiece, every twitch of your muscles, every trembling exhale, every inch of you unraveling just for her. “mommy… m’tired…” you whimper, voice barely there, cracked and aching. “need your help…” she smiles, sweet, slow, merciless, and wipes the sweat from your brow with her thumb. “mommy told you she was tired, didn’t she?” she coos. “come on, sweet girl. take what you need.”

you sob quietly, overwhelmed, but you obey, hips bouncing, rhythm messy and frantic now. the sound of skin slapping echoes through the room as you ride her, clinging to her like she’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. her hands rest on your waist, firm but not guiding, just watching you struggle, suffer, need.

your rhythm falters. thighs trembling, breath catching, your body shakes with effort, but you don’t stop. you can’t. you’ve been on edge for so long, and you're so close now you can taste it.

“that’s it, baby,” she whispers, voice low and velvety. “look at you, riding mommy’s cock like a good little slut. so desperate…” you choke on a moan, head falling to her shoulder, clutching at her like you might shatter. your muscles are screaming, nerves sparking, tension coiled so tight it’s almost unbearable.

“can’t- can’t do it, mommy,” you cry out, voice cracking as the tears finally spill. “too much… hurts…” she lifts your chin, forces your glassy eyes to meet hers. “thought you wanted to be good for me, baby?” she breathes. “thought you loved being mommy’s little whore…”

you nod, barely, tears spilling freely now, lips parted in a soft, gasping plea. “i do… i do, mommy,” you sob. “fuck, need you mommy please just wanna be good…”

she hums, almost lovingly, and one hand moves down, fingers sliding between your legs. they find your swollen clit with practiced ease, rubbing slow, torturous circles. you moan out, hips jerking wildly, movements turning feral, desperate. “there you go,” she whispers, eyes locked on your wrecked face. "that’s it. show me how much of a slut you are for mommy."

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[yoiisa]

Hello sofie! I bring to you a windbreaker request!

Coukd you do one with the wbk boys wherein their s/o gets a little possessive over them? Like imagine the s/o saw them getting hit on and got a little (very but tries to hide it) jealous about it. And then proceeds to stake their claim on their boyfriend? And the boys thinks it's adorable how they're getting possessive over them 🙏

Please do this with Sakura, Suou, Sugishita, Nirei and Umemiya ✌

Thanks for reading! <3 I love your fics btw💕🙏

for the longest time, i didn't think that i'd get jealous super easily, but in the past year, I have discovered that is not in fact the case. i get like territorial really easily over my friends and stuff, so i can't even imagine what i'd be like over a boyfriend (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

➜ for sakura haruka genuinely, i don't even think you'd get a chance to swoop in ➜ it took forever to get him to stop turning beet red around you alone, so if another girl tries something with him, he just reverts back to factory settings and starts yelling ➜ he'll probably immediately seek you out and give like a dirty look to whoever was hitting on him, so it kinda cuts your jealousy short a little ➜ but if he finds out you were jealous, he'll get super confused. like, genuinely, what on earth were you jealous about?

You'd started walking home without him early. Your steps were determined and heavy as you did everything you could to avoid turning around and looking behind you. The image of the girl rubbing Sakura's arm was still vivid in your head, and it was made you feel like tearing out your hair. When you stop at a crosswalk, you hear someone calling your name from behind you. "Y/N! Wait, why are you leaving so early?" you turn around just to see Sakura hurrying towards you, his backpack rocking behind him as he catches up to you. He pants and fixes his bag. "What happened?" You stare up at him- his two-toned wind swept hair, the marbled amber of his eye, and the slight pink to his face. That pink is normally reserved for you, but it appears that this time . . . "It's nothing. I just have a lot of stuff to do at home. I can't stick around," you say, turning on your heel and walking out into the street. "Wait-!" he grabs your arm and yanks you back. "Look out, you almost walked straight into oncoming traffic!" A bike whips past you, the driver flipping you off. You roll your eyes and turn to look at Sakura. The two of you stare at one another awkwardly before you manage, "Thank you." "Are you mad at me?" You take a step back and ask, "Why would I be mad at you?" "I don't know!" You sigh. "I saw you flirting with that girl." He freezes, like a cat that's had water dumped onto him. "Me? Flirting? With who?!" "That girl!" you cry, gesturing vaguely behind him. "The one with the pink ribbons in her hair! She was touching your arms and-" Suddenly, Sakura wraps his arms around you and squeezes you tightly. "Idiot. You're an idiot Y/N." "What are-" He grumbles into your skin, burying his face into your neck. "You don't-" he sighs and squeezes you tighter, his arms tightening around your waist. "You don't need to be jealous of me." You slowly bring your arms up and wrap them around him. "Why was she touching you?" you croak. "She accidentally bumped into me and her food fell onto my jacket. She was just wiping it off," he pulls back and his face is bright red as he manages out a hoarse, "Why would I flirt with someone else, when I have you?"

➜ on the contrary to sakura, i think suo hayato would kinda relish in your jealousy, just a little bit ➜ don't get me wrong though, he'd never encourage someone else flirting with him. when someone else makes moves on him, he's quick to shut it down in his usual passive aggressive, "mean" way ➜ but when it's just the two of you alone and he notices that you're acting more possessive than normal . . . yeah expect some teasing ➜ it's his favorite hobby after all!

"Y/N," he coos, poking your cheek. You swat his hand away and turn to face away from him stubbornly. "Y/N." "What do you want Hayato?" you ask finally, still refusing to meet his gaze. "I love it when you pout, it's adorable," he teases, "but don't you think you're getting a bit too sulky?" "Who's sulking? Not me." No, definitely not you. Certainly not after seeing a girl give Suo chocolates for Valentine's Day, and he just took them. You wonder idly where he kept them. Did he eat them? Whatever, it's not like you care. You should've just accepted all the chocolate offers you got as well, give Suo a taste of his own medicine, but you didn't, and now your chocolate less, even from your own boyfriend. You bite your bottom lip as your eyes begin to burn. You dig your nails into the palm of your hand, and a tiny gasp escapes your lips as Suo takes your hand. "Hey, enough of that now," Suo says softly. "Is this about the chocolates?" You wipe your eyes, but more tears seem to just fall. "And if it is? Then what? You never have the food I give you, and all of a sudden some random other girl gives you chocolate and you . . . you . . ." Suo sighs and cups your head in his hands. He brings you closer to him, pressing his forehead against yours and he click his tongue. "What am I going to do with you?" Your breath hitches as he says, "The chocolates were for Sakura, but he went to the outskirts for patrol today, so she was just asking that I give them to Sakura. I wouldn't take a gift like that from someone, anyone, other than you." You take a few deep breaths trying to calm down, but still you can't help but asking, "Then why . . . why didn't you get me anything for Valentine's Day?" "Who says that I didn't?" he kisses your nose before reaching into his bag. He pulls out a small pouch of chocolate kisses, as well as a tiny bouquet of white lilies. "Happy Valentine's Day," he says with a cheery smile, handing you the presents. You take the bag in one hand and he places a lily in your hair. He wipes the rest of your tears from your cheeks and pats your head. "My lovely girl~"

➜ i think sugishita kyotaro would accidentally encourage it ➜ i think it would be kinda hard for him to understand romantic cues, since he thinks that if you like something then you like it, and there's no nuances to it more than that ➜ he'd get genuinely very confused as to why you're upset, like sakura ➜ you have to explain emotions to him (ᵕ—ᴗ—) after all, he is just a high school boy

When you haven't been responding to his messages or answering his calls, he makes a beeline for your house. It's late and rainy and he's drenched when you open the door after he spams the doorbell. "Kyo? What the hell- are you insane?" you cry as you yank him inside. "You're mad. Why?" he asks, not even acknowledging his haggard appearance. You drag him to a bathroom and sit him on the toilet. You rush to grab a towel and begin drying him off. "It's pouring outside, why on earth would you come at this hour and in this weather?" "You're mad," he repeats, grabbing your hand. "Why?" You sigh. "I'm not mad, I'm just upset." Sugishita narrows his eyes, becoming more impatient, "But why?" "Because," you throw your hands up in frustration, "because of that girl!" His face goes blank. "What girl?" "You were giving a girl your bofurin jacket earlier today as you were leaving Pothos," you explain as you finish drying him off. "Don't you remember?" Sugishita stares at you, his expression as clueless as ever, before realization finally dawns on him. "Oh. That." You want to scream. "Yes, Kyotaro. That." "I didn't," he sighs, resting his forehead in his hand. "I didn't realize you would be that upset by it. She spilled something on herself so I-" You cup a hand over his mouth and give him a sharp look. "You're not helping your case." You gives you an equally annoyed look and sighs. "I'm sorry. I'll get it back from her tomorrow. I didn't think about it like that. I didn't want to upset you. I won't do it again, promise." You stare down at him, before reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. The tips of his ears are turning red, and you can't help but smile at the display. "You better not," you mumble, before giving him a kiss.

➜ i think nirei akihiko would initially try really hard to comfort your jealousy but he overdoes it ➜ eventually he realizes that he just needs it to fizzle out naturally, so he just sits back and lets your emotions run their course ➜ he makes a note of how to deal with your jealousy in his journal, in which he has an entire chapter dedicated to just you that he's marked with tiny post it notes ➜ he also writes a tiny note to you as well, just as something to solidify your good mood

You're starting to feel really bad about the way you completely blew Nirei off earlier today. You were just so frustrated with how much time he'd been spending at Pothos with Kotoha, you felt like you were going insane! To make matters worse, he pressed the issue so much that you reached your breaking point so much quicker than if he hadn't. You'd said some horrible things, you couldn't deny that right now, but you still couldn't swallow your pride enough to apologize. After all, he'd showed some random girl the entries in his notebook. That was something he only did with people he was closest with, so why was he giving it to some random person? Whatever, the whole thing was too much for you to bear even thinking about. As you finished walking home, you checked the mailbox to see if anything had come for you. That's where you found a pink envelope. It had a Akihiko ♡ written on the back and your heart gave a painful squeeze. You rip open the envelope and pull the contents out. A small piece of paper, along with a polaroid of the two of you on your first date, are inside. You unfold the piece of paper, revealing a letter: Dear Y/N, I'm sorry that I upset you. I don't know how to make it up to you, but I wanna try really hard. Come over to my place tomorrow, I'll have tasty food and we can just hang out and chat and work this all out, promise! I love you always, don't forget that! - Akihiko ˙ᵕ˙ You reread the note a few more times, a few tears dropping onto the paper and smudging the ink. You fold the note and put it into the pocket of your school uniform's jacket. Then, you hurry over to Nirei's house. He's sitting on the porch, notebook in hand when you get there. Seeing him, you beam and rush up the steps to him. When he sees you, he freezes, but when he sees your smile he relaxes. You wrap your arms around him in a tight hug, burying your face in his neck. "I'm sorry," your voice is muffled against his collar and he shakes his head. "It's all okay now, don't worry about it at all."

➜ umemiya hajime is the best at handling your emotions ➜ i mean come on that's literally all he does with sakura (ᗒ��ᗕ) ➜ like nirei, i think umemiya would try to go after the problem directly, but unlike nirei, he's doesn't overwhelm you with the conversation ➜ he makes sure that he spends as much time as possible with you in the immediate aftermath, reaffirming your relationship

"Locking me here on the roof is a new low, even for you." You cross your arms over chest and glare at your boyfriend, who sits cross-legged on the floor. A small blanket of tea and sweets rests in front of you, staring up at you with a soft smile on his face. "I want to work this out," he explains. "There's nothing to work out," you moan frustratedly. "I just got a little jealous, that's it. There's nothing more to it, so can you just let it go Hajime?" He shakes his head and stands, walking towards you in a few quick strides. He takes your hands in his and squeezes tightly. "You know I love you right?" "Of course." "Then don't doubt me, okay babe?" he nuzzles his nose with yours. "I love you." "I know, Hajime," you shy away from him, giggling a little bit. "Say it back." "I love you too." "Like you mean it." "Hajime." He laughs and tucks your hair behind your ear. "Next time you get upset just come to me first, you don't need to shut down because you get jealous." You deflate a little in his arms. "You're way too mature for me some times." "One of us needs to be." "Okay, enough," you swat at his arm and move to walk away, only to be pulled back in for a kiss. "Is there anything else you want to talk about while we're here?" he asks after pulling back. When you shake your head, an odd sense of tension fully dissipates from his body. "Good, now let me show you the new chilis that just started growing."

A/N: can you tell I got lazy by Umemiya? I promise to write something better for him in the future ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

butterflygirl738 (6)

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, sickness, medical bills, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You love butterflies and your mother, but life isn’t that simple. As life gets complicated, and expensive, you find yourself in need and an unexpected miracle presents itself.

Characters: Steve Rogers (CEO/Sugar Daddy)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

"It was a nice day," S says as he checks the rear view mirror.

You twitch out of your trance. Your eyes are itchy, the way they get after a double shift. You suppress a yawn and nod.

"Very nice, thank you," you agree and twiddle your fingers in your palm.

"But you're anxious to get home..." he says.

"Well....my mom..." you begin. "I'm not trying to ditch you--"

"Ha, I know. I'm selfish. I've had you all day." He keeps his eyes on the road. "Should we stop and get her something?"

"Um, that's. Mm. I'd love to but..."

"Might be suspicious. Got it." He clucks. "Well, what about tomorrow? You got plans?"

"She has an appointment," you say. "Check-up."

"Ah, makes sense," he says. "When is it? Maybe after..."

"Yeah, er maybe. But... how long are you here? What about New York?" You wonder. The big city, his company, all that is still a mystery to you.

"It can wait. Besides, the hotel has wifi. I got all night to catch up emails."

"Oh, right." You stare at the street ahead.

"Tomorrow?" He prompts before the silence drags.

"Tomorrow. After noon? Should be done by then," you assure him, twisting your fist around your finger.

"Can I ask you a favour?" He slows as he gets to your street.

"A favour?"

"Yeah. Nothing big. Promise." He turns the corner and keeps a snail's pace.

"Alright," you utter.

"Will you bring a few bills tomorrow? We can go through them. Sort that out--"

"S. No. I can't--" 

"But that's the deal," he insists. "How can I help if I don't know the situation?"

"I... I don't know. It's a lot."

"A lot you shouldn't be worried about. You should be focused on your mom. Not money." He stops in front of your building. He angles in his seat and puts his hand on the back of yours. "This is what I'm here for. To take all that off your shoulders."

You exhale and swallow dryly. "It feels like too much."

"Not to me." His thumb rubs the seat, close to your shoulder. "Look, I'm just me. I got more than enough for that. I want to do this. I want someone to share this with. To spoil, if I can."

You look at him. He's too good to be true. After all the bad days, all the set backs, all the red numbers, you just can't believe it's what he says it it.

"I'll bring one," you offer.

"One?" He echoes.

"Mhmm," you nod.

"The highest one then," he says. His tone is even but demanding. 

"Okay."

"Okay," he repeats and clears his throat. "Look, sweetheart, let's not ruin the day. Go inside, spend some time with mom. I'll text you."

You chew your lip. You should tell him. It won't help if he thinks you're ignoring him.

"Maybe not." You fidget. "I'm... I'm almost out of... I uh, the internet is down and I pay per message."

"Hm, why didn't you mention it before?" He challenges.

You sink down, pushing your shoulders high. "It's embarrassing."

He sighs. 

"No problem. Tomorrow. After noon," he pats the seat and rescinds his hand. "Hope the appointment goes well."

"Me too," you murmur in dread.

You undo your seat belt and grab your purse. You sit up and glance at him. He watches you expectantly but you're not sure what he's waiting for.

"Good night," you say.

His jaw ticks, "good night, sweetheart."

You smile weakly and get out. You shut the door gently and turn to step over the curb. You march up to the front doors and peek back. You wave then go inside.

You feel bad now. Like you're abandoning him. After such a nice day, you're just strutting off without giving him anything...

Your chest knots up as you climb the stairs. It isn't just him, it's the lies. You're not sure you can keep this up but if you don't, what are you going to do? You can't pay him back and the missed hours at work won't do much to help that. And if you keep calling in, well, you might not have time to make up for what you missed.

You're confused. This was supposed to make it all easier but it all feels so much more complicated. Why can't life be as simple as the chrysalis in the hamper? 

🦋

"Will you come in with me?" Your mom asks as they call her name.

You nod and stand with her. It's not like the early days. When she went on her own. She didn't tell you the diagnoses right away. Not until the first treatment. That was a horrible day and there's been many of those since.

You follow the nurse to the sterile room. You sit in the chair in the corner and your mother sits in the chair by the small counter top. You're silent. Both anxious.

Dr. Vincent enters. You almost feel like you should stand. You cross your legs and return his greeting. It's not a very good morning but you won't say so.

"So, Noreen," he says to your mother. "I have some news."

Your mother looks at him from her chair. She looks small like a child. You've never seen her afraid but in that moment, you see her eyes gleam.

"You're a candidate for stem cell transplant." He says.

Your mom looks at you and back to him. You don't know what that means either. You remember they mentioned it early on but it never came back up.

"No more chemo. At least for now. We think this is the opportune time and it could help with recovery in the long run," he explains.

"Oh, right," she breathes. 

"We'll send you for a few scans to see how things are looking but your last images were positive."

"Uh huh, okay," she blinks. "Is it very expensive?"

He hums. "It can be. Depending on insurance. Of course, it would be my recommendation for you to go with it. Chemo is showing results but in my experience, this is the best course of action. If you wish to continue as you are, it's entirely within your discretion."

You're both quiet.

"I'll provide you some information on it before you go. How about that? Give you some time to think." He says.

"That's good," you say as your mom stays silent.

"Alright, then, we'll do the usual," Vincent diverts. "Let's get you on the bed."

You sit patiently as he checks your mother over. He's quick and efficient. He has a full waiting room, even this early in the morning. You thank him after your mother does and he leaves the room.

She steps onto the stool and down to the floor. As you approach her, she sighs. She doesn't say anything as she leads you out of the room.

As she stops at the admin desk to get the folder of pamphlets, she bids them a good day. As you come out into the gloomy of the rainy day, you take her hand. She stops and stands at the curb, looking out into the distance.

"I'm tired, pie."

"I know, mom," you say.

"What do you think?" She asks.

"I don't know. Maybe... we should read the stuff."

"It'll be expensive."

"It's all expensive," you mutter.

She drops her head. "My last days and I have to watch my daughter work herself half to death just to suffer more and more."

"Mom, please, he said things are looking good--"

"Maybe but I don't know how much longer I can keep this up."

You swallow as your eyes burn. "It's... it's your choice. Always your choice." You look away, trying not to cry.

"Honey," she squeezes your hand. "I don't want to give up. I know you won't, either, but you're tired too. It hurts me to see you like this."

"Mom," is all you can eke out.

She lets go of you and looks at the folder. She exhales. "I'll read it over."

"We'll read it together," you offer. 

"When's work?" She wonders.

"Noon," you answer. Not work, per se. Just an obligation.

"Enough time for breakfast," she says. "My treat."

"Mom," you say.

"I know, I know. But I just want one last cinnamon bun before I go," she insists.

🦋

You're trembling. You haven't been able to stop since you left the apartment. You couldn't let your mom see the panic. She's already having a rough day.

You stand under the awning of the building, waiting. S drives up and you run out without pulling up your jacket hood. You feel in your pocket for the pamphlet.

You get in the car and flick the moisture from your cheeks. You gasp. "It's really coming down."

"You don't have an umbrella?" S says.

"Forgot," you shrug.

"Mm, well, looks like a day best spent inside. I was thinking, they got pretty good food at my hotel. We could have lunch."

You hesitate. The thought of his hotel room makes your stomach stir. You remember what he said. 'We'll see where it goes'. It's feeling more and more like there's only one way this goes.

"Sure, whatever you like." You sniff.

You buckle up and sit back. You tilt your head up.

"Long morning?" He asks as he pulls into the street.

"Yeah... a little."

"Bad news?" He asks cautiously.

"Mm, news... stuff to think about."

"Right," he steers on as the wipers swing back and forth. "Well, just relax. Once we get to the hotel, you can get dry and clear your head."

"Yeah. Thanks."

You close your eyes, content to let the rain and the motion soothe you. It's a moment to prepare yourself.. Maybe once you tell him, he'll change his mind.

When the car stops, you snap up as if you were sleeping. Your mind slows as the world does the same. S smiles at you and reaches behind your seat. He grabs an umbrella out of the back.

He gets out, shielding himself from the downpour, and comes around to open your door. He walks you up to the hotel doors and folds up the umbrella before he enters the lobby. He points you to the elevators.

"Got some work done this morning," he proclaims as you get on. "You were asking about my company."

"Oh, right. I was. Curious, I guess. I don't know anyone who owns one."

"You do now," he chuckles. "It's not as glamourous as it seems. This is as much time as I've had to myself in... a decade?"

"Really?"

"Not to complain. I mean, certain things I don't have to worry about. It's not a bad life. Solitary," he shrugs and the doors open.

He guides you along the hallway to his suite door. He lets you in ahead of him. He puts the umbrella in the tall vase by the door.

You unzip your jacket and hang it. You look down at your jeans. They're soaked. You rub the damp fabric.

"I got a spare robe in here, if you want to let those dry," he says.

"Sure, uh, probably," you agree.

He takes off his shoes and you step out of your boots. You linger by the door, shyly glancing into the suite. He stands up and combs his fingers through his hair.

"I'll get the room service menu," he grins and struts away. "Make yourself at home."

As he looks around, you reach into your jacket pocket. You hide the pamphlet behind your back, clasping your wrist tight, and tiptoe further inside. He waves the laminated menu at you.

"Right here," he puts it on the small round table between two chairs. "I'll get that robe."

"Sure."

You wait, reluctant at the edge of the sitting room. A couch and a clamshell chair in velvet. It's all so nice.

He comes back in.

"If you want to change before you make up your mind--"

"Uh huh, yeah."

You keep the pamphlet behind you and take the robe. He points you to the bathroom and you scurry into it. You lock yourself inside and strip off the wet jeans. The texture leaves your skin itchy. Ugh.

You hang them on the bar meant for towels and pull on the robe. It's soft and roomy. You tuck the pamphlet into the pocket and face the door.

You emerge as S sits at the table. You walk carefully, paranoid that the robe might fall open despite the tight knot around the middle. You sit down and lean over to read the menu. It's a good distraction.

"I recommend the mac and cheese, as simple as it sounds," he taps with his finger.

"Oh, I like mac and cheese," you say.

You continue your perusal. You'll probably just go with what he says. Your appetite is lost in the storm of your inside.

"So, uh, did you bring that bill?"

You sit up stiffly and blink at him. Your hand goes to the pocket of the robe. You gape at him. How do you do this?

"We can wait--"

"No, I can't. Not-- no. Because..." you stammer as your heart races. "Because it's... it's too much and... you can say no and... I'll be okay. My mom will be okay. I'll figure it out. I will."

"Woah, woah, sweetheart," he gets up and comes around the table. He gets down to his knees as he puts his hands on your arms, his thumbs caressing you. "It's alright. I asked you to--"

"No, no," you jitter as you reach in the pocket and slide out the pamphlet, slightly damp from the rain. "It's... it's more... it's..." you look down at the paper as you clutch it in your hands. "The doctor said it will be good but..."

He drags his hands down your arms to your hands. He eases the pamphlet free. He sits back on his heels and opens it. He reads it over as you cover your face.

"I think I should go--"

"I can do it," he says calmly. "One hundred? Easy."

"One hundred thousand!" You drop your hands. "S!"

"It's just money. This isn't about that. It's about your mom, isn't it?"

You stare at him. You don't understand how he can be so generous. It's just take, take, take, and you have nothing to give. And the more he gives, the more you depend on it. The hole only gets deeper and deeper.

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Realized as this is my first mermay, I should write something about it.

Anyway.

(Takes place post reveal pre collar)

Stop laughing Stan meowed from the sink, glaring at where the Fords and Carla were hunched over the table, hands over their mouths, it's not funny.

The laughter got louder, and Stan glowered at them. They'd been giggling and trying to take not so subtle pictures for ten minutes now, instead of focusing on the problem at hand.

Which was Stan, and his lack of both hands and now back legs. Because how was he supposed to know the funky bracelet Ford had been messing with was some kind of mystic aquatic enchanted artifact, that 'gifted' anyone who touched it with 'sea legs', and how was he supposed to know those sea legs were in the form of a tail and the ability to breath under water.

And how was he supposed to know it'd affect his cat self, making it so when he'd nabbed the shiny thing on his brothers desk, Ford had rushed in to Stan's yowling as he flopped around with his brand new fuzzy seal tail. Ford had been very panicked as he snatched Stan from the ground and bolted to the kitchen, emptied the sink, plugged it, then stuck Stan under the faucet until he realized Stan was still very much still breathing, much like seals do on land.

Only once Stan was hissing and soaking wet did Ford burst into laughter, squishing his chubby new addition and cooing at all his speckled patterns.

Ford! Stan hissed, stretching out a paw and waving it at Ford, fix it!

All that got was more laughter, as the wet fur of his front leg stuck to his skin and dripped everywhere. All his fur was soaked from his impromptu shower and now half bath, making him look half the size he usually did and probably twice as pathetic.

"I'm sorry Stanley," Ford gasped, refusing to look at him, "give me a moment, I just-"

Ford turned, they made eye contact, and his brother started wheezing. He smashed his head onto the table and started pounding it as his body shook. This set the other two off, and now all three of them were red faced and barely breathing.

Stan hissed at them, until Ford eventually managed to drag himself to a nearby drawer and grabbed a large dish towel. Stan hissed again as he got closer and unplugged the sink, then again when Ford scooped him up and started rubbing him dry.

The other two kept laughing and taking photos, ignoring his disdainful looks.

"There, much better," Ford said, grabbing another towel to hold Stan with, then walking back to the table, "now you look less..."

"Miserable?" Carla suggested, smirking as Stan was set down on the table on top of the towel.

"Bug eyed?" Said Fiddleford, reaching over to poke at Stan's new blubbery addition. Stan swiped at him, then tried to curl up and sit in the towel.

It was very difficult without his back legs.

"I was thinking maybe more along the lines of shrunk." Ford said, reaching over to help Stan get settled and squishing the tail as he went, "I forgot how much of his volume is fluff."

I'll make you fluff, Stan grumbled, now fix it.

"I wonder how he'd swim like this," Carla said reaching over to poke Stan's tail. Stan glared at her, but she ignored him, pushing her finger in and out of the blubber, "like, his paws are still the same, does he doggy paddle with the tail?"

Stan glared harder as they all looked at him, then swatted at Fords inching hand.

"A mystery for another day," Ford said, nursing his fingers, "for now I need to figure out how to undo the enchantment."

"Can't you belt out your, you know." Fiddleford gestured at Stan with a raised brow, and both turned to face Ford as he hummed and shook his head.

"Unfortunately no. That's for curses, this is an enchantment. If I uncursed Stanley right now he'd just be a mermaid, and then he'd really need the sink. Best to leave him as is until I finish examining the braclet. And with that!"

Stan hissed as his brother scooped him up, one hand supporting his weight and the other coming down to make sure Stan wouldn't roll out. Conveniently by placing his other hand right on Stan's squishy seal tail and pressing his hand into it.

I know what you're doing, Stan meowed, giving him the stink eye and pawing at his hand. Ford pretended not to notice, pivoting and striding out of the kitchen back towards the study.

"I'll have to take some readings," Ford said, still squishing his tail and scratching it a little, "to see what we're working with. It might wear off on its own, or there might be a something your required to do before you can change back."

Stan grunted, then let out a mrrp as Ford set him on the desk and chuckled at his bounce. Stan swiped at him, then hissed when Ford pressed his hand into it again.

"Sorry Stanley," Ford said, reaching over to pick the bracelet off the floor with a pen and setting it on the desk, "it's just very satisfying. Actually..."

Stan raised an eyebrow as Ford turned to see if Carla or Fiddleford had followed him, then quickly pulled Stan closer and shoved his fave into Stan's tail.

Really? Stan mrrped as Ford brought his arms around him and hugged him close, it's fish fat Ford. It's not that great.

Despite that, Stan shot a look at the door before shoving his head into the crook of Fords neck and purring. Ford giggled into him, and he realized it was because Stan's blubbery seal tail was jiggling.

Stan smacked him in the back of the head, getting nothing but a heartier chuckle out of his brother, before Ford turned his face and smiled at him.

Stan purred harder, eyes starting to close, when Carla burst in with the camera, and Stan was abruptly shoved across the desk and started rolling off it. Ford lunged to catch him, and they both flinched as the camera went off.

"Yeah," Carla said, smirking at them as she backed away, "I figured you two were doing something cuddly back here."

And then she was gone, ignoring their cries of denial.

[fiastomatocheek]

WHERE IT HURTS ME THE MOST

requested: yes | req: okay so my idea is reader and will are arguing and she's got a short temper and so will is kinda dialing in on insults related to that. and i guess to make this make sense, she had a past boyfriend that didn't treat her the best so her anger is a coping mechanism and a safety net for herself so she doesn't get hurt again but he's never seen her cry at all (about that situation or anything else) in the time they've been dating. and they're just going back and forth and back and forth and finally will says something like ‘well i get why your ex left because you're so stubborn and angry all the time. if you got your anger under control maybe some good things would happen to you’ and it just breaks her. like she stops fighting and when she goes to leave, will sees the tears welling in her eyes and he knows immediately that he fucked up. and she isolates herself and no one hears from her for days until finally will finds her at her apartment and he apologizes or something like that? please and thank you!

pair: will smith x f!reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, romance.

warnings: past emotional abuse, toxic ex mentioned, yelling/argument, emotional breakdown, isolation, hurtful dialogue, emotional vulnerability, but ends with comfort and healing.

summary: you only asked will for one thing is that to check in after practice. it wasn’t a demand. just a simple gesture. but when a small concern turns into a spiraling argument, will crosses a line he never should’ve touched. and the moment he sees you cry for the first time, he realizes exactly how much damage he’s done.

fia’s note: never been in a toxic relationship before *praying this kind of love never finds me* so i’m not really sure what else to add, but i hope you enjoy it anywayyy. love you all lots!! my fav little ��s. alsooo i’d love if some of you could recommend me a few will smith angst fics to read, i’m in the mood to suffer a little. and i’m currently open to dad!luke hughes requests too!! he doesn’t get nearly enough dad delulu content on here and i desperately need it.

tagging team fia ! — @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @dancerbailey3 @mashmashi @kell9rs @nokiaholland

fia’s masterlist | join fia’s taglist | fic discussion

“Hey,”

Will greeted casually, wiping his damp forehead with the edge of his shirt after tossing his gear bag down by the entryway.

“Hi,” you replied flatly.

He paused, glancing at you. “Everything… okay?”

“I don’t know. Did something happen after practice? You usually text.”

He looked up from unlacing his shoes.

“Yeah, sorry. Coach kept us longer than usual.”

You leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

“You still could’ve sent a text. Just… anything.”

He let out a breath, already heading toward the kitchen.

“Babe, I was busy. And you know I don’t take my phone on the ice.”

“I know,” you said quietly.

“But it’s not about the rink. It’s about after. You had it once practice ended. You just didn’t use it.”

“You’re mad?”

“I’m not mad,”

You said, eventhough the frustration in your tone told a different story.

“I just… it would’ve taken two seconds to text ‘I’m okay’. That’s all I needed.”

Will tossed his hoodie over the back of the chair.

“I was exhausted. I didn’t think you’d be this upset about it.”

“That’s the problem,” you snapped.

“You didn’t think. About me. About how I sit here wondering if something happened. If you got hurt. I know it sounds stupid, but it matters to me.”

“It’s not stupid,”

He said quickly, but the way he rubbed his temples suggested he didn’t quite mean it.

“It’s just… I don’t get why it’s always a big thing.”

“It’s not always a big thing,” you said, voice rising.

“You just make me feel like I’m asking for too much everytime I express something that bothers me.”

“Because you come at me like I’ve already failed.”

You stared at him. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you actually listened when I talk.”

Will’s jaw clenched. “I do listen, I do. But you’re always so angry. Every conversation turns into a fight.”

And just like that, your anger cut deeper than he probably intended.

You turned away, trying to collect yourself.

But Will didn’t stop.

“It’s like you’re constantly looking for something to go wrong. I come home and you’re already on edge, like you’re bracing for a war that hasn’t even started.”

“Maybe because I am bracing,”

You snapped, spinning back toward him.

“You don’t know what it’s like to live in a state of defense. To have someone chip away at you every fucking day until the only thing left is armor.”

Will’s expression now is confused, overwhelmed, cornered.

“I’m not your ex, babe.”

“I never said you were. But sometimes you make me feel like I have to prepare for the worst. Like if I don’t say something now, I’ll end up swallowed by silence, again.”

He scoffed. “You can’t compare me to him everytime you’re upset.”

“I’m not! I’m just trying to explain why I am the way I am!”

“Then maybe work on changing it.”

Your stomach dropped.

“What?”

“I’m just saying,” he muttered, frustration bleeding through,

“You always expect me to cater to your triggers, your past, your baggage but when do you take responsibility for how you react?”

“I am taking responsibility,” you said.

“I’m telling you what I need so we don’t spiral like this. And you’re acting like I’m attacking you.”

Will stepped back, tone turning cold.

“You know what? Fine. Be angry. Be stubborn. That’s all you ever do anyway.”

You flinched.

And then he said it. The most hurtful things you’ve ever heard.

“Well, I get why your ex left. Because you’re so stubborn and angry all the time. If you got your anger under control, maybe some good things would happen to you.”

A breath. A heart broken.

All of the pain hit all at once, your body stilled, your face blanked. Your eyes went glassy, your fists clenched at your sides.

Will’s face dropped as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Wait no, I didn’t mean that, I—”

But it was too late.

Your voice cracked as you whispered,

“You were supposed to be different.”

You turned, grabbed your keys, and… left.

It’s had been three days eversince that day you left his apartment, eversince the you hadn’t answered a single message.

Not the texts. Not the voicemails. Not even the flowers he sent that sat untouched outside your apartment door.

Will was unraveling, everytime he closed his eyes, he saw the way your face shattered, how your mouth opened in shock, but no words came, your eyes filled with tears those tears you never let him see before you slipped out the door without another word.

Now, soaked from the rain, he used the spare key you gave him months ago, stepping into your apartment with a heart heavy enough to drown him this time.

You were there.

When you looked up and saw him, you didn’t move.

“Please…”

He said quietly, shutting the door behind him.

“Just… let me say this.”

You looked so tired. So hollow.

Will knelt beside the couch, water dripping from his head onto the floor.

“I know… I know I said the one thing I should’ve never said. But I need you to understand… I wasn’t angry at you. I was scared. Scared I was failing you. And instead of being patient, I chose to be cruel.”

Your eyes flicked toward him, lips trembling.

“You’ve told me what your anger protects. I should’ve respected that. I should’ve seen that what I call ‘yelling’ is really just the sound of you trying not to drown.”

He hesitated, then reached for your hand so gentle, barely a brush.

“I love you. Not in the convenient way. Not just when things are easy. I love you when you’re quiet, soft. But I also love you when you’re loud and afraid. I love you when you’re angry because I know that anger comes from pain you never deserved.”

Will moved slowly, sitting beside you, careful not to push too far.

“You don’t have to protect yourself from me. Not with words. Not with walls. I’m not going anywhere. No matter how loud it gets. No matter how hard it feels. I’m yours. Even when it’s not easy.”

“You are not too much. You were just never given the right space to be everything you are.”

Silence.

“And I want to be that space.”

You looked at him, crumpled and broken, and you believed him, your body leaned forward. Your hand reached for his. And when you finally pulled him into you, burying your face in his shoulder, he held you like the home he promised to be.

“I don’t need you to be okay all the time,”

Will added, voice shaking a little now.

“I just need you. However you are. However you come.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair.

“I’m so sorry.”

[xxxnekomii]

title: highlight compilation of toji’s shy girl’s first time on stream!

description: toji invites his partner to join him on stream :3

category: amateur / homemade

——————

since this doesn’t have a lot of context, i’m thinking of streamer toji who doesn’t necessarily do full nsfw streams regularly, mostly he does gaming streams with a sort of nsfw twist :3

——————

toji’s fans have clipped a highlight compilation of your first time on stream into a 25 minute video. it’s more wholesome than some might expect. toji’s in his recording room, which fills the camera frame with soft ambient lighting and the gentle whirr of an electric fan. the title of the stream “introducing my girl on stream” is enough to send chatters into a frenzy as they flood into the chatroom.

timestamps: 00:50 she comes into frame!

when you do finally enter the camera frame in your soft pyjamas toji chuckles as the chat explodes in messages which moves too fast to read. money donations ping in but toji isn’t interested in reading them today. instead, he helps you settle in his lap with one arm wrapped around the front of your waist.

you introduce yourself shyly, a little overwhelmed by the various windows opened on toji’s monitors.

timestamps: 01:30 toji shows her the streaming set up

“see, i told you she was real,” says toji as you give a small wave to the camera. toji spends a short while showing you his set up, teaching you how to read the chat and when donation pings came in. his left hand finds itself under your shirt, rubbing your tummy as his right hand guides yours using the mouse. to the viewers, it’s strangely intimate and brings in a throe of donations saying “you two are so cute together”, or “i wish i had this”.

timestamps: 4:46 THEY’RE KISSINGNEJJG

at some point throughout the stream toji’s unable to keep his hands off of you for any longer after subtly feeling you up from under the desk. instead you’re now straddling his lap with your chest pressed up against his solid torso as he eagerly makes out with you. he’s turned his chair to the side, so while the viewers can’t see how he kisses you, they can see how his hands help rock your hips against his thigh.

timestamps: 6:37 THINGS ARE GETTING STEAMY

at this point there’s no stopping either of you. donations are pinging in are ignored as toji rolls your hips on his thigh, one hand lazily supporting your waist. soft moans begin to slip out as you grip the armrests for support.

“oh baby are you getting needy?” he says when you mewl his name in desperation. “come on gimme another kiss,” he says as he pulls you in. you whine as he gives you a slap on the ass over your pyjama shorts.

“let’s get you sorted then hm?”

timestamps: 12:55 HOLY SHIT THIS IS SO HOT i could barely focus while editing.

toji helps you out of your pyjama shorts and panties, tossing them to the ground and to your delight he finally pulls out his throbbing cock for you to sit on. it doesn’t take long for toji to be bouncing you up and down in his lap like a dollie as you squeal with pleasure.

“god baby you’re making a mess,” says toji as you hold onto his broad shoulders. “i guess it’s my fault for working you up under the table,” he says as you babble out something about him not being able to keep his hands to himself.

“you know i can’t help it baby,” he replies as he thrusts up once into you. “i just want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“you’re doing so good for your first time on stream baby,” he continues as your voice starts to waver - a telltale sign for him that you were getting close. he could feel you getting close too, your drooly pussy quivering.

toji’s barely keeping an eye on the stream, but he can still hear donations rolling in.

“hear that? they think you’re doing a good job too.”

he catches you in a brief kiss. your brain fizzes with pleasure.

“show them how good you can be, yeah? i know you’re close.”

timestamps: 19:04 shes so cute when she cums + toji fucks her through it

when you finish over toji, your back arches and your hips try to buck away from toji as you squeal his name. your hands push at his biceps.

“fuck baby, don’t run,” he huffs out, tightening his hold on your hips as he continues to bounce you up and down. his favourite part is fucking you through it, and your overstimulated reactions make him cum every time without fail.

“t-toojiii!” you whine as he lifts you up and down on his length like one of the toys he sometimes uses on stream. god toji loves hearing your voice when he does this. he wonders if you know that he holds himself at the edge just to see you twitch and mewl.

your nails have marked his biceps in short pink streaks by the time he finally finishes deep in your throbbing pussy. he lets out a husky groan as you squeeze around him and strokes your hair when you lean forward into his chest.

timestamps: 23:01 stream ending

toji tilts your head up into a gentle kiss again as he squeezes your ass in one hand. “that feel good baby? you made such a mess,” he murmurs. you nod lazily, rolling your hips once to surprise him.

“brat,” he mutters, pinching your ass.

“thanks for watching guys, sorry i couldn’t read out that many donations today,” says toji as he runs a hand along your back.

“i hope you guys enjoyed, we’re gonna go clean up now,” continued toji. “wave goodbye to chat baby.”

you try to sit up and give a weak wave and catch the chat messages in the corner of your eye.

nekomii: no round 2???

honoured_1: fuck that was so hot

jell-o_cat: you should stream with her more often !!!

“alright see you tomorrow night, bye.”

———————

woo i hope you guys enjoyed this!! it was super fun to write because i love streamer/cam tropes

halfway through i wondered if i should make reader the streamer instead but i told myself to commit haha

at the same time i kept thinking about how there would probably be some crazy parasocial responses in chat if this was irl, but luckily it’s only fiction teehee

[venusbyline]

Im so glad someone else lowkey likes modern aegon x niece

i need that scumbag now😩🫠

i know he gives her weed for the first time and teases her for not having tolerance

-🍰

okay this is so fucking hot to think about. actually I'm a real whore for modern Targcest, we need more of that type of content 😭😭

btw... I wrote this based on my personal experiences smoking weed in 2022, so the descriptions of the effects may seem a bit exaggerated, considering that all the times I smoked while I mixed drinking whiskey, vodka and beer too (here in Brazil the legal age for practically everything is 18 years old. my ex, his friends and I were already 19 actually, so we knew very well what we were doing).

⚠️: SMUT CONTENT. female!reader, modern!Aegon II Targaryen, Targcest (uncle/niece), corruption kink, underage drug use (reader is 17-18), weed smoking, sexual tension, degradation, dry humping, age gap (older man/younger woman), secret situationship, implied Jacaerys Velaryon/reader, implied older brother/younger sister, implied exhibitionism & voyeurism kink.

"Damn, pretty girl... If your mother saw you now, she'd kill me." Aegon let out a hoarse laugh as he sealed another joint together with his niece.

The girl was sitting on his couch, laughing at whatever stupid shit he had said during the last twenty minutes. Your hair was disheveled from your recent make-out session, the red lip gloss smudging a little bit across your chin.

When Aegon had decided to bring his niece to his house for the summer vacation before the start of your high school's senior year, he had asked his sister Helaena to help convince Rhaenyra to let you stay there for a few weeks. So already knowing how your uncle wanted to introduce you to some real fun and maybe also convince you to move there when you started college in the next year, you had whined and begged your mother many times, lying that you would take all the necessary precautions — because unfortunately the whole family already knew very well about Aegon's bad reputation, and still you were excited for new experiences.

And now the two of you found yourselves already high and drunk on the very first night of your stay.

"I'm not that high..." You whimpered, moving your body until you were sitting on Aegon's lap again, while he lit that joint just for him.

He had shared the first one with you, saying some silly saying like puff, puff, pass. According to Aegon, it would be better if you took two puffs and then passed it on to him, because it would help your lungs absorb the weed better than if you simply smoked it all at once.

However, deep down Aegon was loving seeing you like this, all desperate for more. He felt like he was corrupting you, and he liked that feeling as well. "Not that high? You sure, babe?" Aegon chuckled, one hand squeezing his niece's ass covered only by pink panties, while the other brought the rolling paper to his own lips, taking a soft drag and inhaling slowly.

You let out a low little laugh at his words, flushed cheeks after that when you took in the sight of your uncle sitting beneath you. He was taking a second drag and then blowing the smoke out of the corner of his lip.

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure, uncle."

Aegon rolled his eyes, despite the fact that he could feel them starting to get kinda hazy — not as much as yours, though. “Babe, you took off your dress and bra right after you started drinking and smoking with me. You were rubbing yourself against me like a whore a few minutes ago and laughing at every nonsense thing I said.” Aegon’s voice was firm, but his smirk made it obvious how much he was loving everything, bringing the joint to your mouth in solidarity as you could not stop staring at his fingers.

Even though you tried to force yourself to take a drag on it properly, you ended up dragging it harder than you should have, which caused you to cough. “You’re so fucking bad at this, little niece. Such a dumb, innocent little thing.” He scoffed, admiring your smile and laugh, the way you were trying to be a good little girl and passing it back to him.

He could not deny that seeing you all messed up like that was quite a hot sight.

"Holy shit, you're so damn weak. Your panties are so fucking wet that they're making my jeans all sticky with your pussy juices." Aegon continued with those teasing sentences, blowing some smoke at you, wondering how his half-sister would react if she knew he was corrupting her daughter.

Maybe he could take a picture of you sucking his cock and send it to Jacaerys when your vacation was over. Your older brother would probably jerk off watching his little sister and his uncle sharing such a horny moment.

[howlingday]

Prompt idea: Jaune puts his girlfriend Nora in timeout by hanging her from the back of her shirt of a hook on the wall and she's to short to get down. Jaune made sure it wouldn't choke her.

"You stay here and think about what you've done."

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!" Nora thrashed from her position, feet dangling in the air. "I HAVE DONE NOTHING WRONG!"

"One, yes, I can, and I just did." Jaune held up a finger, making his point, before lifting another. "And two, biting Zwei for taking a bite out of your pancakes is not nothing."

"I was asserting dominance! I eat first! He knows better now!"

"And what about biting Ruby and Yang when they tried to stop you?"

"Zwei is their dog, so they should be punished for teaching him bad manners!"

"And Oscar?" Jaune quirked his brow.

Nora stopped thrashing. "...Okay, in my defense, I kinda blacked out after I bit Yang."

"I'm going with Ruby to the vet to make sure Zwei is okay. Then I'm going to treat her to that breakfast place you like."

"Without ME?!"

"Yeah, without you." Jaune glared behind his pointing finger. "That's your punishment." Turning away, Jaune left her to dangle.

"THIS IS INHUMANE!"

"So is biting people..." Oscar mumbled, rubbing his bandaged arm.

"You want another one, Pinewood Chewtoy?"

"I-I'm not scared of you!" Oscar stammered out. "And even if I was, Ozpin would have my back!"

"Okay, one, you are so scared of me," she rolled her eyes, "and B, Ozpin was totally scared of me. Why else did you think he didn't make me a team leader?"

Oscar was quiet. Not from what Nora said, but more in that special way Oscar got quiet when Ozpin was talking to him. In a few blinks, one of them will come out to respond. One, two, three... "He says, 'Nuh-uh'." Oscar walked away, rubbing his arm.

"THE FUCK YOU MEAN NUH-UH?!"

--------------------------------------------------

"Sorry again for the short notice doctor." Jaune apologized.

"It's no problem, but I do ask that you keep your... 'neighbor's dog'," there's no way she bought that, "from biting Zwei here. Especially with how sick he is."

"Wait, he's sick?" Ruby asked.

"Mhm, he tested positive for Cavewolf Skin," she explained, "which is kind of a blessing in disguise, honestly, since his skin and hair is so thick that he should be relatively unharmed. Though brushing will require a lot more time and effort because of it. There's no real cure, though I would recommend shifting to a different shampoo for his baths." Zwei gave a whine.

"So, Zwei is completely fine otherwise?" Jaune asked.

"In terms of the attack, Zwei is fine. Your 'neighbor's dog', though," still not buying it, "will need to be more careful. Cavewolf Skin is harmless to human through physical contact, but ingestion may be a different story. Like, say, if a human swallowed a clump of loose Zwei hair..."

Jaune's skin felt cold. "What would happen then...?"

--------------------------------------------------

Downtown Argus was being ripped apart. Stomping down the streets, a girl covered in orange hair attacked anything that was the color yellow. Yellow cars were flipped over. People wearing yellow clothes were thrown through the air. Even the yellow rubber ducks were... Well, actually, they were okay, because they were made of rubber.

At the stature of Pyrrha, she raised her fist high to strike... Then stopped and apologized profusely because defacing a monument like this one would be an insult to both the memory of that person and everything they fought, believed in, and died for. Still the rampage continued, and civilians were advised to steer clear of the rampaging girl downtown.

"JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUNE!" Bellowed the girl with orange hair and a chunk of wall to her back.

[obvithe-bestsoph]

not you.

masterlist requests word count: 1.4k

a/n: my first kenan fic! this has the possibility for another part, so let me know! genre: angsty? then not angsty but also not fluff so idk lol 😭 warnings: mentions of religion.

summary: kenan brings his new girlfriend to a team dinner and doesn't expect to feel wrecked when he sees how much it hurts you. later, he finally admits he never stopped wanting you and promises to make things right.

You’re not sure what stings more - the fact that he brought her, or the fact that he introduced her like he owed you some kind of explanation. 

“Hey. This is Elif,” Kenan says, resting his palm gently on the small of her back. “She’s… um… she’s my… girlfriend.”

You blink once. Twice. Then smile, because you’re not sure what else to do. 

“Oh. That’s cool. Hi.”

Elif is perfect, of course. Pretty in that polished, put-together way. Her smile is bright, her laugh is delicate, and she doesn’t hesitate to take Kenan’s hand in hers, as if it belongs there. 

You excuse yourself to the drinks table and pretend like you’re not about to cry. 

You’re here because you have to be. A part of the media team, photographer and videographer for the Instagram account. You were filming the arrivals in the hallways earlier, laughter, wine glasses, celebration for the end of the season. Kenan arrived with Elif, of course, and your lens dipped for hald a second. No one noticed. But you felt it. 

Your childhood best friend, the boy you’ve been in love with since you were seven, walking around with his arm around the waist of another girl, completely unaware. 

The dinner continues around you like nothing’s changed, because technically nothing has. You and Kenan are still the same people, the same inside jokes, same memories, same looks… expect now it feels like there’s a layer between the two of you. One you can’t name, but it feels like wearing an inescapable old cardigan, always there, rubbing a little too rough, squeezing a little too tight in all the wrong places.

He finds you again after dessert, weaving through players and staff until he’s beside you. No Elif in sight. 

“You good?” he asks, voice quiet. 

You nod, “Great.”

Kenan raises his slitted eyebrow at you, “You lie worse than Arda.” You snort, “Take that back.”

“No chance.” His smile falters slightly, his tone still light, but a little less joking, more worried. “You sure you’re okay?” You glance at him. His hair is a little messy, like he’s been running his hands through it all night. There’s a tiredness in his eyes that doesn’t match the joy on his Instagram post from earlier, it had been a photo of him and Elif, laughing on some balcony in Turin. Sunlight catching his eyes. Her arms around his neck. 

“I’m fine,” you say. “You don’t need to check on me all the time, you know.”

Kenan leans against the wall beside you, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “I’ll always check on you.”

You don’t answer. You don’t feel like you can. 

The days after that kind of all blur into a mess of overthinking, tears, edit-watching, and avoidance. Kenan still acts like normal, though. Memes, videos, half-thought-out voicenotes about random things he did, and training stories. You still reply. You still laugh. But something’s changed, and you both know it. 

Then comes the night that he invited you over. 

KENAN: do you want to come around for dinner tonight? just us. Promise.

You think about saying no. But you don’t. You never do. 

He opens the door in sweatpants and a hoodie that you’re pretty sure you got him for one of his birthdays. The apartment smells like chicken and vegetables, and there’s some random playlist playing softly from his speakers. 

“You cooked?” you tease, slipping off your shoes. 

Kenan grinned. “I reheated. I’m not trying to poison us.”

You eat on the couch, knees touching occasionally. The food is warm and familiar – homemade by his mother, delivered in Tupperware. You don’t comment on the fact that he always saves your favourites. 

“You didn’t invite Elif,” you say casually, halfway through dessert.

Kenan stills for a second before shrugging. “Didn’t feel like it.”

You take another mouthful of sütlaç, the rice pudding sweet and creamy. “You two okay?”

He’s quiet for a second, like he’s hesitating. 

“She’s great,” he says finally. “She really is.” You hum. “But?”

Kenan exhales slowly. “But sometimes it feels like I’m… showing her a version of myself that isn’t all the way real.”

That catches your attention. You glance at him. He’s not looking at you. 

“I try to be good,” he adds, voice softer. “I try to pray, to stay focused. And she respects it, but she it’s like she doesn’t get it. Not deep down.”

You nod slowly. “That’s hard.”

“Yeah.”

The silence continues for a moment. Thick and tense.

“Do you really love her?” Kenan doesn’t answer right away. Then, softly: “She isn’t you.”

You should say something. You should call him out. Say that he can’t just drop that and expect nothing to happen and you to just shrug your shoulders. But all that comes out is, “Then why are you with her?”

Kenan finally looks at you. His eyes are glassy, like he’s holding something in. 

“Because with you…” he trails off, shaking his head like he’s mentally scolding himself. “With you… it was always more. And I was scared I’d mess it up.”

You swallow. Hard. “So instead of just trying it with me, you decided to be safe with someone else?”

Kenan winces slightly. “I know it sounds bad.” “It is bad.”

He leans forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped like that’ll solve all his problems. “You were always there. Every game, every loss, every time I felt like I couldn’t help the pressure. You were there, making dua for me without even telling me. I felt it.”

Your chest tightens. “I didn’t want to risk losing that.” “So you decided not to have me at all?”

“I decided to keep you close.” He looks at you, eyes burning. “Even if I couldn’t call you mine.”

You’re quiet for a long time. The ache in your chest feel stronger than ever. It’s been growing for years, fueled by every almost-touch and unsent text. Every time he pulled you into a frame for a “team moment” that never made it to the socials. Every time he held would look over the camera at you when he scored a goal, instead of at the lens. 

“I would’ve stayed,” you whisper. “Even if we’d messed up. I would’ve tried.”

Kenan’s hands are shaking now as he plays with the clasp of his watch. 

“I still want to try,” he says. “But not like this. Not while I’m with someone else. Not without doing it right. 

Your breath catches. Kenan sits up straighter, like he’s making a promise. 

“I’ll end things. I won’t lead anyone on. And I’ll wait. For as long as you need. Because if it’s not halal, it’s not happening. But I want this, with you. Properly. Fully.”

You look at him again. The boy who memorised his du’as between bus rides. Who panics when you send him blurry photos of yourself and saves every single one anyway. Who has never kissed you, but makes you feel more cherished than anyone ever has.sütlaç

“I don’t want to be a maybe anymore,” you say, shaky, but firm.

Kenan reaches for your hand, just barely brushing his fingers against yours. “You never were,” he whispers. “I was just too much of a coward to admit it.”

You don’t kiss. You don’t need to. There’s more devotion in the way he touches your hand than there could be in anything else.

Instead, he offers to walk you to your car, hoodie still half-zipped, socks mismatched. You laugh as he throws on slippers like an old man and grabs your keys before you can protest. 

Outside, the air is crisply cold. Italian stars shimmer overhead. As you reach your car, Kenan stops. 

He opens the car door for you and hesitates as you step in. 

“I want to do better,” he says. “Not just with you, with everything. I’ve been hiding behind comfort, and I’m tired of it.” 

You study his face. It’s serious, but not heavy. There’s something clear in his eyes - like this time, he means it. 

“I want that too,” you say softly. “For both of us.”

You drive off, and a few minutes later, your phone buzzes with a message from him:

KENAN: i’m officially single. text me when you get home safe xx

You smile softly, going to sleep that night grinning at your ceiling like a teenage girl with a crush.

[blueb4rry676]

This can be a bit much ofc it's up to you if you wanna write this. saw that you don't write abt pregnancy so i thought i'd ask for smthing post pregnancy still i'm sorry if it makes u uncomfortable. This a sunghoon smut fic. this is after the female lead gives birth to thier daughter ( maybe 4 months) she breast feeds her . she also leaks alot of milk. and workaholic husband sunghoon notices it after he sees her breast feed. he has a kink for her breast milk and likes to suck on it when she leaks. rough unprotected sex. A LOT of sex toys and belt slapping, ( cunt slapping or ass slapping) cand cuffing her to bed while he uses his toys on her. dick riding while he sucks her breast milk . dick pumping , sucking dick. big dick sunghoon . lingire, floor sex, bed sex, shower sex, role playing sex, daddy and mommy kinks ,makes her get on all fours for him, sunghoon also has a begging kink. doesn't wanna pull out and makes her sleep with him still inside of her ( again sorry if this is a bit much but hope u can write it ps; i lovee ur work alot)

YESSS GIRL!!!!!! It is a great idea, I'm gonna do it, but it is gonna be more short and soft, I hope you like this ❤.

MY OTHER BABY

Content: +18MDNI, Dom!Sunghoon, Sub!Femreader, adult breastfeeding, vibrator, soft handcuffs, cunt slapping, dacryphilia, squirting, sex in the room of hoon and reader.

It had been about 4 months since you gave birth, your baby was very clingy, you had almost no time for Sunghoon, every morning your son would not stop crying, and you had to go and breastfeed him. It was 10 o'clock at night, and you were sitting up in bed, feeding your baby, your blouse was pulled up to one of your shoulders, revealing your breasts full of milk. Sunghoon walked through the door, and froze, although it was not the first time he saw you like this, something felt different, the heat took over his body, he looked at you, his eyes full of excitement and lust, he noticed how his son was already asleep, he took him carefully from your arms, and took him to his room. “Baby, I'll be right back, don't even think of putting that blouse back on, stay like that.” Said the man, in a hurry, left the baby in his crib, and came running back, closed the door, and without further ado, threw himself to kiss you, your moans drowned against his mouth, your hands clung to his shoulders. “Honnie, the baby…” You moaned, pulling away. He just looked at you with lust, and spoke to you. “Shh, he'll be fine, relax” He said, gently rubbing one of your breasts with his hand, suddenly, he pinched your right nipple, making you gasp softly.

After a few minutes, you couldn't remember how, you were completely naked, you were handcuffed, your hands on the headboard of the bed, Sunghoon was taking the milk from your tits, sucking each nipple, the milk was falling from your breasts, dirtying them and at the same time the man's mouth, You had a vibrator inside your pussy, your moans were sharp and loud, you could swear that the neighbors would complain tomorrow, your legs were trembling, Sunghoon had already denied you orgasm three times, your cheeks were streaked with tears. “Hoon, please, I can't take it anymore, I'm going to cum.” You sobbed writhing, Sunghoon smiled, and whispered to you. "Cum for my baby" He whispered in your ear, your body convulsed, your legs closed, and without further ado, you reached your climax, the man hurried to take the vibrator out of your pussy, and slapped you roughly on your sensitive center, you squealed and whimpered, he didn't stop, he just kept pounding your pussy, you felt like peeing. "Hoon!!!!! Shit, wait!!!" You squealed shuddering.

“Let go sweetie, you'll like it.” He murmur to you, your body trembled heavily, a stream of a clear liquid soaked your thighs, the sheets, and Sunghoon's hand. He stood up, took off his boxers, revealing his thick, veiny 21cm cock, uncuffed you and turned you over, making you face down, lined up with your pussy and rammed in one thrust. "Fuck baby, you're so tight" He moaned, his hands gripped your hips, his nails dug in leaving marks, your already hypersensitive body writhed under him, your cries were drowned out by the pillows, these themselves were soaked by your tears, your pussy clenched around Sunghoon's cock. You were going to cum again. Sunghoon was close too. “Oh God baby, I'm going to fill you so good” the man groaned, a couple more thrusts, and you cum again, the splashing of the bodies was so obscene, Sunghoon let out a broken moan, and cum filled you, he slowly pulled out of you, and caressed your trembling body, he hugged you and melted with you in a deep sleep, then he would clean you up.

HEY BABIES I'M BACK!!!! Some anonim request this, so I did it, I hope you like it, I think that it it not really good, I'm sorry!!!

[mayahawkesfirstwife]

★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★

You don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone, my dear.

★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★

★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★

Pairings: Toxic! Cheater! Manipulative! Se-mi x Fem! Reader

Summary: Se-mi realizes she messed up with her girlfriend far too late.

Warnings: Angst, cheating, sexting, nudes, manipulation, toxic relationship, reader goes back after Se-mi cheats, smut, fingering, etc.

Author Note: I kinda hate this and I might delete it…but oh well! The ending was kinda like wtf why would u end it like that but I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO😔 Sorry if theres any spelling mistakes or anything like that!

★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★

She cheated.

She cheated again.

You cried in your bed, sobbing into your silk pillow as you scroll through the screenshots your friend sent you of the messages between your girlfriend Se-mi and this so called Hana.

She has done this god knows how many times, this was the third time you caught her.

You hadn’t said anything to her yet, you were afraid. Almost as if she knew what you were doing, your phone buzzes.

My love💞💞 is calling

You sigh, pressing decline as you shake your head, you sit up and wipe your tears, trying to watch the show playing on your TV but the tears keep falling.

You phone buzzes a few times until you finally pick it up.

My love💞💞 babyyyy

My love💞💞 y aren’t u picking up the phone??

My love💞💞 hello?????

My love💞💞 wyd???

My love💞💞 baby?

My love💞💞 are you with another girl rn????

That sets you off. How fucking ironic.

You idk ask Hana in ur phone.

My love💞💞 what?

My love💞💞 baby answer my call

You no fuck you

You don’t call me again

You we’re done

My love💞💞 baby wtf????

My love💞💞 idk any Hana

My love💞💞 stop lying

My love💞💞 hello???

You so wtf is this then?

My love💞💞 she came onto me

You clearly not

My love💞💞 baby, cmon?

My love💞💞 it was just one time

My love💞💞 i regret it

You don’t text this number again

You we’re done, i’m serious.

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You always fell for her games.

But this time was different.

Se-mi. I miss u bby

Se-mi. ik u miss me too

Se-mi. cmon

You I told u not to text my number, Se-mi.

Se-mi. honey, cmon?

Se-mi. miss u sm

Se-mi. I promise i won’t do it again

You u always say that

Se-mi. babyyy

Se-mi. I mean it this time🙁

You idk

Se-mi. plsss

Se-mi. come over????

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You knew it was wrong.

Especially this time.

You didn’t even want this.

But there you were, having gone a few rounds with her, your fingers thrusting hard into her, “Fuck!” She groans, tossing her head back.

“You like it?” You hum, she nods, eyes droopy.

She leans in to kiss you, you turn your head away and look down at your hand as your wrist moves back and forth.

She grabs your face, “Kiss me.” She mutters, pulling you in.

Once your lips touch, you flinch back quickly, “I can’t.” You shake your head.

“Why not? Shit! Fuck, slow down.” She groans, gripping your arm as your pace sped up and you curl your fingers, trying to avoid talking to her.

She moans loudly, “I’m gonna cum!” She squeezes your arm as she came around your fingers.

You pull back after she finishes and sit back beside her, knees curled to your chest.

You felt like shit. You didn’t even really want all of this. You just wanted to spend time with her. One last time.

“Babe?”

You look down, pulling the grey blanket over you more, “Hm?” You reply.

“I said, are you okay?” She repeats.

“Oh, yeah, m’fine.” You nod, moving your chin to rest it on your knees.

“Hey, can you ask you something?” She asked, sitting up right.

You sigh, “Yeah?” You said, moving to look at her.

“Why…uh-why don’t you let me kiss you?”

You froze and turn away, “I dunno…” You lie.

“Just tell me. I thought you wanted this again?” She said, rubbing your knee, you look at her hand.

“I just…I think of your lips on all the others girls…from before.” You mutter, tearing up.

“Baby, come on. We talked about this. It was a mistake, I love you.” She said, grabbing your cheeks in her hands.

You look up at her, “Do you love me too?” She asks, you hesitate.

She leans in, kissing you, it was passionate, loving even.

Until she reaches down and spreads your thighs, you pull back quickly, “I can’t.” You shook your head, shutting your legs.

“We already did, though? What’s your problem?” She says, confused.

“I think…I don’t think I love you anymore.” You said.

“What?” She scoffs, you look up slowly at her. “I-I didn’t even want to come here…I just wanted to see you one last time.” You said, tears falling down your face.

“What do you mean?” She asked, she grabs your hand and you pull it back, letting out a sob.

“I-I’m moving out of Korea with my mom. I leave tomorrow.”

She froze.

“Wait…what?” She said, your lip quivers. “She got a job opportunity in the United States and she’s leaving. I figured i’d go with her…for a fresh start.” You explain.

“Baby, no, you can’t. What about us?” She grabs your face, you shake your head.

“Se-mi, theres no us, not anymore. You put me through too much.” You sob.

“Baby, please? Don’t leave me. We can get past this, there is an us.” She said, hopefully, pulling you closer.

“There stopped being an us the second you fucked your co-worker and lied about it.” You snap, pushing her away.

“God, you’re unbelievable.” You exhale.

“I just…I can’t lose you. I seriously don’t know what i’d do.” She said with a sigh.

“You’ll meet someone new, maybe you could…treat her well? Be faithful to her, okay?” You smile weakly.

“No! No, I don’t want to meet someone new. I want you.” She says.

You tilt your head, “Se-mi, we’d never work, not after everything you’ve done. If you hadn’t done what you did…things would be different. But it’s too late, you can’t change the past.” You said.

She lets a few tears fall down her face, “Y/n, y/n, please don’t leave…” She cries, “I swear to god…I’ll change for you. I don’t know if I see myself with anyone else. I can’t do this without you.” She sobs.

You rub her cheek, wiping a tear off her cheek and kissing her softly.

You pull back and rest your forehead on hers, “I used to think that too, but I know now…it’s going to be okay.” You said, you get up and start to get dressed.

She watches you while she regrets everything, tears rolling down her face.

She puts her T-shirt on and some sweatpants, “Please, don’t go.” She says, her voice cracking.

You exhale, putting your shoes on and she kneels in front of you. “I’d do anything for you…baby. Anything. ”She said.

“Just you.” She places her hands on your knees as she sighs.

“I can’t stay, Se-mi. It’s too late, my flight leaves in the morning. It’ll be okay, mhm?” You said, trying not to break down.

“Can I come with you?”

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[seleneprince]

"A pawn shop. A pawn shop in Chinatown. You expect me to believe that you walked into a pawn shop and bought a Red Lantern ring off like it was a toaster?"

"It was a really shady pawn shop, okay? Smelled like incense and my ancestors' dissapointment, but it had killer discounts. So I got it. End of story."

"That is not the end of the story. There are protocols for this, (Name). There are Guardians, who should've known if a Red Lantern Ring was just...lying around carelessly in Earth! You have no idea what you've done!"

"Well, looks like those smurfs aren't doing their damn job. Besides, it's mine now. What are you going to do about it?"

"Do you have any idea how dangerous a red ring is? You even know what it takes to become one?!"

"Yeah, to be angry. And I am, all the time. Comes with being your daughter, you know?"

"You think this is a joke?"

"Yes. This whole converstation is a joke. I've had this ring since I was fourteen, and it's not like I hid it in my hand. Not my fault you never paid attention."

"Since you were—You should've come to me! You should've told me then! I could've helped you—"

"Help me? Like you help me by dropping me at your brother's house without looking back? Or how you help me by forgetting I exist? Yeah well, forgive me for not wanting your help."

The red energy around her flares, strong and burning, her eyes glowing behind her mask like embers of lava.

His expression softens. "(Name)...I'm trying."

She scoffs.

"I don't think you ever tried. Not when it comes to me. So spare me the chat, you won't change my opinion. This ring is mine now, I made it mine, and I'm keeping it."

"You can't keep it. It'll—"

"I don't care! Look, I didn't ask for it, okay? I didn't ask for any of this, this cursed family and the weird galactical drama, and I sure has hell didn't ask for this powered ring to end up in my finger. But it's how it is. And you know what? I love it. This ring is the only thing that has ever made me feel strong and like I'm capable of everything."

"It makes you angry, (Name)! That’s the whole point of it. It feeds on your rage, on your resentment. It consumes your mind and leaves nothing behind!"

"Yeah, and I got a lot of that. Thanks to you, by the way."

"Don't you dare put this on me. I'm not to blame for every bad decision you make in your own damn life! God, where the fuck did I go wrong with you—"

"Everything."

Heavy silence.

"You're not keeping it."

"You can't stop me."

"Yes, I can. And I will, if you make me."

She clenches her fists, the energy growing. But then...it dims. Just slightly.

"Fine. Go ahead. Play the concerned father for once, ease your guilty conscience. Whatever makes you sleep better at night."

He lets out a deep sigh, rubbing his face.

"We will fix this, (Name). We have to."

"I'm happy like this."

"I didn't raise you to become a rage-possessed killer."

"That's the thing, Dad. You didn't raise me at all."

And before he can get the last word, she leaves with a furious burst of red light, tearing through the sky with a trail of burning crimson behind her.

He stands there, staring after her, feeling the hollow ache of realising a huge mistake he made, not knowing if he can still fix it...or if she's already lost to him.

And somewhere, in the Sinestro Corps' domain, a woman feels the urge to laugh at his suffering.

A little something I wrote about my new au. I can't focus enough time for essays but I can write shit like this in less time. Wow. Anyway, feel free to guess what it's about 👀

[cryingatwindermerepeaks]

ugh i was rereading your headcanons about jackie dealing with her bedwetting and trying to hide it and nat and van and tai all coming across her and realising its a recurring thing and jackie getting all mad and upset from being sleep deprived and tantrumming when anyone even slightly tries to bring it up and then nat quietly coming to her rescue and its so so good and i love it so much!!! if you were ever in the mood to write it, id be over the moon but also no pressure at all bc you already wrote such a good fic for that hc ~ :3

Little!Jackie - Hiding

Always happy to write for you <3 sorry this is a bit messy and unedited my brain has been a bit all over the place.

Word count: 1982

The first time it happened, Jackie hadn’t been worried. She’d had a bad dream, she’d had juice before bed and it was just one accident. It didn’t mean anything.

But then it happened again. And again. And suddenly Jackie was worried. Because it was stupid at this point. She wasn’t a baby - not like Lottie, or sometimes Nat - she shouldn’t be dealing with this. Shauna certainly didn’t, or Mari, or Van. So why Jackie?

It didn’t matter. As long as no one ever found out, Jackie didn’t really need to think about it.

This meant no more bedroom sleepovers with Shauna, no more naps on the couch, no more dozing off in the backseat of the car while Nat hummed along to the radio. A small price to pay in order to avoid absolute humiliation.

The first fix she tried - because washing sheets every night was not practical or easy - was giving up her nighttime sippy cup. But everyone knew how much Jackie loved her pre-bed juice and if she stopped drinking it they’d probably assume she was having bad thoughts about food again and she’d get sent back to that doctor who looked like evil Santa Clause. So she took to tipping it out her bedroom window every night after she’d been tucked in. It worked for the first night, and the night after that, and Jackie thought she'd fixed herself - but then it started again.

It was around this time that she had her first run in with one of the others. Jackie had been sure everyone was in bed since it was 3 am and no one woke up at this hour. So she didn’t think there’d be a problem taking her sheets and pajamas to the laundry. Wrong. Jackie had walked straight into Van in the hallway, her arms overflowing with dirty laundry. “Jackie, what are you doing?” Van had asked sleepily, rubbing at her eyes.

Jackie hadn’t known what to say. So she hadn’t said anything. She’d stood there like a deer caught in headlights, unable to even move. “An accident?” Van offered, in an attempt to be helpful.

“No.”

Van raised a disbelieving eyebrow at this. “No?”

“No,” Jackie reinstated, turning quickly on her heel and retreating back to her bedroom. And that was the end of that. Laundry would be done later.

It seemed to get worse after that. If skipping out on juice wasn’t going to help, Jackie would just have to stop sleeping. Which - in hindsight - was not a logical idea at all. It only took two days for the plan to miserably fail.

She had a headache. One almost certainly caused by a lack of sleep. But no one else seemed to care because Shauna and Melissa were playing a very rough game of Treasure Hunting in the living room. It was a game which involved a lot of screaming and turning over furniture. None of which was helping Jackie. She snapped. She hadn’t meant to - but Shauna had bumped into Jackie and knocked her hand as she’d been placing one of her calico critter beds, disturbing the whole carefully arranged room. “You’re being too loud!” Jackie finally snapped, standing up in frustration with her fists clenched by her sides. Shauna just stood there, sort of shocked.

“Jax… I’m sorry,” She tried - and Jackie knew it was harder for Shauna to apologise than it was for most people, but she still didn’t care. Jackie huffed, pressing her hands over her ears and storming out of the room.

So what? She wasn’t on the best terms with Shauna or Melissa (who’d cried a little bit after she was snapped at), but it would blow over by the morning.

By dinner, Jackie thought maybe they’d even forgotten, she was happy to sit at the table beside Shauna. Then Mari had brought out dinner - casserole - and Jackie had actually blanched. Casserole was disgusting. It reminded Jackie of dinners with her mother, and being forced to swallow down all the icky textures that made her skin crawl. She couldn’t do it. “You’re not hungry, princess?” Nat asked, worry on her face.

Jackie just shrugged, pushing her plate a little bit away. “C'mon kid, try just a little bite and if you don’t like it I’ll get some crackers and grapes.” That was their usual rule - Jackie only ever needed to try. But she didn’t want to do that tonight. She groaned, loud enough to get the attention of some of the other girls at the table.

“It’s dis-gusting,” She huffed, crossing her arms. “It smells yucky, it looks yucky, and I do not want to eat it.

Nat looked less worried now - and maybe a little bit cross, which made Jackie’s stomach twist nervously. “Jackie, that isn’t very nice. Mari spent a long time making this for you. It’s ok not to like something, but it’s not ok to be rude.” Jackie whined, frustrated that Nat wasn’t taking her side. She slid down her chair dramatically, stretching her legs out under the table and glaring away from Nat.

“I don’t. Want. To try it.”

Van sighed, and cut in with an attempted mediation. “Look, no one’s saying you have to eat it, Kid. You just can’t be rude about it, ok?” Jackie felt targeted now - both Van and Nat being on her case about the stupid dinner.

She groaned, loudly, and slammed her palms hard against the table. “Yucky, yucky, yucky!” She exclaimed.

“Jackie, that’s enough.” Tai’s voice was calm, but stern enough to make Jackie stop her actions and look up in fear. “Go sit in the calm down corner, five minutes. Would you like someone to come and sit with you?” Jackie shook her head firmly before stomping off to the corner in the living room which was dubbed the calm down corner. She dropped down onto the soft pillow which sat in the corner and immediately felt awful. She wished she’d asked for someone to come with her, because now she felt alone and scared and it was so awful. It was just like that night - they were all mad at her and now she was alone and it was her fault.

Jackie cried loudly, tears stinging her cheeks and snot pooling at the base of her nose. She kept going until her chest hurt so much she couldn’t breathe properly anymore and her head was all light and airy. She slumped down onto her side, curling into the tightest ball possible and scrunching her eyes shut.

She fell asleep. Jackie should’ve known this would happen.

She woke up to Tai gently rubbing her shoulder and saying something - maybe telling someone not to come in?

“Hey Jackie,” she smiled calmly as Jackie’s eyes fluttered open. It didn’t take long for Jackie to remember why she was in the calm down corner. She flinched away from Tai’s gentle hand, squirming so she was sitting up - and that’s when she felt it. A stale dampness between her legs she’d grown to know so, so well. Her face paled in panic at the realisation. No, no, no, no, no. “It’s ok sweetheart, no one else saw.” Jackie shook her head firmly because it was not ok. It was not ok that she had an accident and it was definitely not ok that Tai had seen, and now knew how much of a baby she was. Jackie felt trapped - stuck in the corner, Tai crouched in front of her - it made her heart hammer faster and faster.

“Not ok,” she huffed, pulling herself up so she could get out of here.

“Jackie - hey, take a breath. If you run out of here right now someone is going to see and I know you don’t want that,” Tai whispered gently so anyone listening outside the door couldn’t hear. “So why don’t you let me help you? Yeah? Let me bring you some clean clothes, ok?” Even though Jackie did not want - or need - Tai’s help, she didn’t want everyone else to see. Tai already knew how stupid and pathetic she was, so it couldn’t really get much worse.

Jackie let Tai help her, but once it was done, she was out of there as fast as her legs would take her and she spent the next week avoiding Tai at all cost. At least everyone just assumed that was because Tai had sent her to the corner.

Things seemed to only get worse and worse for Jackie. Even though she had to start sleeping again, she couldn’t get herself through the whole night. To make it worse, everyone always seemed mad at her for one reason or another and she was too tired to do anything at all. She couldn’t play with her toys, she couldn’t do soccer drills and she couldn’t read with Shauna. Everything just felt awful. And it all came to a crux on one particularly awful night. Jackie had been putting her sheets in the wash when the exhaustion had caught up to her. Just a little nap, she’d thought, curling up on a pile of clean towels which Lottie must’ve gotten partway through sorting yesterday. It was warm and soft and it took very little for Jackie to drift off.

Nat found her, she’d been going to see if Jackie was coming down for breakfast when she’d found her bed empty and stripped. Piecing together what had happened wasn’t too hard after that. She took the sheets out of the dryer, and without anyone else seeing she remade Jackie’s bed and put her pajamas away. Now, she only had the hard part left, waking Jackie up.

“Baby,” she cooed softly, crouching down beside the girl on her bed of towels. Jackie whined softly, sleepily.

“Natty…” she mumbled, recognising the voice before the situation.

“Yeah, princess I’m here.” Jackie rubbed at her eyes before opening them, squinting at the light coming into the laundry room. “You fell asleep, but I fixed up your bed so you don’t have to worry about it.” Oh. Oh. Jackie’s half asleep mind took a moment to catch up. She needed to cover this up, quickly.

“I didn’t, Uhm, I didn’t. It was just juice - I was thirsty and I spilt it so I needed… and I didn’t want to wake anyone up.” she bit her lip roughly, watching Nat’s face not at all shift into believing her. “I swear… I didn’t. I’m not a baby,” she grumbled, crossing her arms right over her chest.

“Jax, you’re not a baby, it’s ok,” Nat cooed, putting out a gentle hand on Jackie’s shoulder. She shrugged it away, her face hardening crossly.

Jackie didn’t know what else to say so she just stood up, stomping off to hide into her room until all of this would just disappear like it never happened.

Nat chose not to push for details after Jackie shrugged her off, she knew Jackie could be stubborn if it meant protecting her reputation. And it wasn’t like it was a problem, everyone had accidents from time to time. Still - she was worried about Jackie and needed to figure out what to do so she went to Tai and Van because they always seemed to know what to do. “You mean it’s happened more than once?” Nat asked, in surprise, once they’d both relayed their own personal experiences with Jackie.

“Must’ve…” Van nodded in thought, wondering what could possibly be done. “Mel doesn’t talk about it either but at least she’ll let me help… Jackie is…” different, was what Nat thought was probably meant to follow, but it felt wrong to describe Jackie that way. Jackie, who spent every waking moment doing everything in her power to not be different. Nat knew in that moment that she’d probably never break through Jackie on this front, and should probably start thinking of a way to help without actually helping her.

[nadinebrooks-sides]

Here is the link to my masterlist.

Hannibal Lecter: Life is short, eat dessert first

Sorry, it's been so long since I've written anything. School got busy, but if you ever have any requests, don't be afraid to send them my way!

Will Graham leaned back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck absently. Hannibal watched him from across the room, their usual session meandering between silence and tension. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“You seem distracted today,” Hannibal said lightly.

Will exhaled a little. “My best friend just moved across the country. Thought she’d never leave California, but she just got here a couple of days ago. She bought a house in the suburbs.”

Hannibal tilted his head, intrigued. “That’s quite a change. And how do you feel about her arrival?”

Will shrugged, but there was a ghost of a smile on his face. “Relieved, I think. I didn’t ask her to come, but … she knew. She knew I needed her.”

“She must know you very well,” Hannibal replied. “I’d very much like to meet the woman who understands you so intuitively.”

Will raises an eyebrow, a little amused, a little cautious. “She’s not like the people you usually meet. She’s laid back. Casual. Doesn’t take anything too seriously. Including me.”

“I look forward to the contrast,” Hannibal says smoothly. “In fact, I’m hosting a dinner tonight. Why don’t you invite her?”

Will hesitated. “She’s not exactly formal dinner material.”

“I’ll make an exception,” Hannibal replies with a rare smile. “It would be a pleasure.”

(y/n)'s phone buzzed against the kitchen counter, right as she set down a half-empty box labeled BOOKS—WILL'S RECS.

She wiped her hands on her jeans, reaching for it with a grin when she saw the name.

Will: Are you free for dinner tonight? A friend’s place. He’s a little intense. You’ll like it. Alana’s coming too. Dress nice-ish. I’ll pick you up at 6:30.

She blinked at the message and read it again, this time aloud: “Dress nice-ish?” Her brow furrowed. “Will, what the hell does that even mean?”

As she looked for something to wear, her bed was a mess of fabric —dresses, jeans, cardigans, and a pair of heeled boots she hadn’t worn since her cousin’s wedding.

She stood in front of the mirror in a soft wrap dress that hit just mid-thigh, one she forgot she even owned.

“Nice-ish,” she muttered, tying the waist. “This is as nice-ish as I get, Will.”

She heard his truck pull into the driveway and grabbed her coat.

She slid into the passenger seat, glancing sideways. “So. How formal are we talking? Like ... wine pairing, or more like you making everyone uncomfortable with weird metaphors?”

Will gave her a withering look, but his lips twitched. “He’s a psychiatrist and a chef. Just don’t make fun of the wine pairing.”

“No promises William.”

He rolled his eyes, but didn’t stop her when she reached over and gently scratched her fingers through his hair the way she always had. They had both missed the comforting gesture.

He let out a quiet sigh, turning toward the road. “Don’t be too weird.”

“You say that like I know how to be normal.” She chucked softly.

The warmth of the house hit her first. There was dim lighting, candlelight, the faint scent of herbs and something roasting low and slow in the oven. 

Alana greeted (y/n) with a warm smile as if they had known each other for years, but in a way, they had. They were friends on all their social media platforms and often shared photos.

Then Hannibal appeared, he was immaculate, composed, charming in that unnervingly quiet way.

“You must be (Y/N),” Hannibal said, offering his hand. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

“Hope you didn’t believe any of it,” she replied, shaking his hand with a warm grin.

Will looked vaguely horrified. Alana laughed softly.

As the evening settled, what surprised both Alana and Hannibal wasn’t just how much Will tolerated her, it was the fact that he seemed to enjoy it. 

She bumped his shoulder when he got too quiet, stole a bite off his plate with zero shame, and leaned on his arm when she laughed.

It wasn’t romantic. It was something older. Familiar. A quiet tether between two people who knew each other far too well.

While Hannibal tended to the final touches of dessert, (Y/N) hovered nearby, arms loosely crossed, watching with obvious interest.

“You make this all from scratch?” she asked, eyeing the glaze he was brushing onto a warm tart.

“I wouldn’t serve anything I didn’t prepare myself,” he replied, without looking up. “Cooking is an intimate act. A kind of offering, don’t you think?”

She nodded, stepping a little closer. “I actually love cooking. Not like this thought. It’s not this elegant. But I like feeding people. It calms me down.”

That caught his attention. His eyes flicked to hers, curious. “You see it as a grounding ritual.”

“Exactly. It’s meditative. And it reminds me of being home.”

Hannibal gave a slight, genuine smile. “Perhaps one day, you and I could cook together. I’d like to see your process.”

She tilted her head. “You’d let someone else in your kitchen?”

“I believe I could make an exception.”

Alana pulled her aside as Hannibal excused himself to get coffee. She led (y/n) toward the living room, curiosity lighting her features.

“So,” Alana said, glass of wine in her perfectly manicured hand. “What was Will like back then?”

“Back when?” she teased. “Before he was broody and mysterious?”

Alana laughed. “Exactly.”

She smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. “He was the kid who wouldn’t look anyone in the eye but would let me copy his homework if I asked nicely. He used to sit with his dog during lunch because he hated the cafeteria. I basically adopted him by ninth grade.”

Alana’s eyes softened. “He lets you touch him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him let someone do that before.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “It’s just always been that way.”

There was a pause.

“You know,” Alana said, glancing toward the kitchen, “Hannibal doesn’t usually take to people this quickly. It seems like he’s intrigued by you.”

She raised a brow, heart skipping. “Is that a good thing?”

Alana smiled thoughtfully. “That depends.”

The remnants of dinner lingered on the table. There were crystal glasses half full, dessert plates scraped clean. Will and Alana had shifted into the kind of intense, low-toned conversation that meant they’d be at it for a while, heads bowed, words sharp and clinical.

(Y/N) leaned into the back of the sofa where Will sat, her fingers absently threading through his hair with a practiced familiarity. She didn’t even realize she was doing it. Will didn’t flinch or lean away. He never did with her. If anything, the small touch seemed to anchor him. He was realizing just how much he missed her touch. 

Across the room, Hannibal watched the gesture with quiet curiosity. Her touch wasn’t possessive. It was soft. Constant. Like punctuation in a long, shared language only the two of them understood.

“Would you like to see the garden?” Hannibal asked suddenly, his voice gentle.

(Y/N) blinked out of the moment, looking up. “Sure. Yeah, I’d love to.”

Alana glanced at her briefly, the edge of a knowing smile playing on her lips as she lifted her glass. A wink. Subtle, but unmistakable.

(Y/N) arched an eyebrow but followed Hannibal out of the room anyway.

The night was cool, but not cold. The garden, lit by soft golden path lights, was alive with late spring fragrance: lavender, rosemary, and something heady and sweet she couldn’t name.

Hannibal walked slowly beside her, his hands folded neatly behind his back.

“Your friendship with Will is uncommon,” he said after a few paces. “It’s rare to see him allow someone so close.”

She smiled softly. “We’ve known each other since we were thirteen. I think he gave up resisting me sometime around freshman year.”

He gave a quiet, amused breath. “What drew you to him?”

“I don’t know. He looked like he needed someone,” she said honestly. “I think I needed someone, too.”

They walked a little farther.

“You moved here recently,” Hannibal said, glancing at her. “Was that for him?”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “He never asked me to. But I could tell he needed someone in his corner. And I missed him. A phone call every night wasn’t cutting it anymore. I missed my best friend.”

Hannibal nodded slowly, as if committing the answer to memory.

“And what is it you do, when you're not rescuing old friends?”

She laughed. “I’m a freelance writer, mostly food content. And I teach cooking classes online. Lots of homey stuff. Soups, casseroles, weekend bread-baking. Stuff you eat barefoot.”

“Comfort food,” Hannibal said with approval. “You feed people in every sense.”

“That’s the goal.”

He glanced over again, more directly this time. “Do you enjoy it?”

“I love it,” she said. “Cooking has always felt like therapy to me. You put love into something and watch it nourish someone else. It’s slow, and deliberate. Honest.”

“Then you and I are not so different,” Hannibal murmured, voice softer now. “Our approaches may vary, but the intent is the same.”

She met his gaze then, caught by the stillness in his expression. It was measured, but not cold. Curious. There was something calming about him out here in the open air, away from the candlelight and shadows of the dining room.

“I’d still like to cook with you sometime,” she said.

He gave the smallest of nods. “I would like that very much.”

They paused beside a bed of herbs, fragrant and vibrant in the night air.

“You really built all this?” she asked, glancing around.

“Every plant, every path. I find comfort in growing things with intention.”

She looked at him a moment longer, thoughtful. “You’re not what I expected.”

He smiled at that, faint but genuine. “Neither are you.”

**

She tapped her Bluetooth, the phone ringing as she steered with one hand and adjusted the sleeve of her oversized sweatshirt with the other.

Will picked up on the second ring.

“Are you on your way?” he asked, sounding suspiciously like he’d just woken up.

“Yep. And before you ask, no, I didn’t dress up. Leggings, sweatshirt, hair in a claw clip. This is as glamorous as I get before 6 p.m.”

Will chuckled. “Bold move. The man sets his table with silver tongs.”

“I thought about dressing up,” she admitted. “But that’s not really me. And if he doesn’t like it, tough.”

A pause. Then Will, deadpan: “Just don’t fall in love with my psychiatrist.”

She smirked. “Can’t make any promises. The man’s got a wine cellar.”

The front door was already cracked open when she arrived. She stepped inside and followed the soft notes of classical piano and the faint aroma of garlic and butter into the kitchen.

Hannibal turned from the counter, dressed in a crisp linen shirt and apron. His gaze swept over her outfit without judgment, but with something else, something softer.

“You look comfortable,” he said with a small smile.

“I am,” she replied, lifting the container of fresh herbs she brought. “Basil and lemon thyme. I thought you might like these.”

“I do,” he said, accepting them like a gift. “Thank you.”

She glanced around the kitchen. It was pristine yet welcoming, warm wood and brass fixtures glowing in the low evening light.

“You didn’t have to clear space for me.”

“I wanted to,” he said simply, gesturing to the prep station he’d set up for her. “Shall we begin?”

They moved together in surprising sync, the quiet clatter of knives and simmering pans filling the space between them. Hannibal offered guidance, but never hovered. When her knife technique faltered, he came to her side, gently adjusting her grip.

“Here,” he said, his fingers grazing hers. “Keep your knuckles forward like a guide.”

She glanced up at him, amused. “Do all your patients get knife skills lessons?”

“Only the ones I intend to cook with,” he replied smoothly.

They fell into a rhythm with her stirring a risotto while he seared scallops, her laughter warming the space when he told her about a time Will refused to eat foie gras.

“He looked personally offended by the concept,” Hannibal said, a rare sparkle in his eye.

“Sounds like him.” She bumped her shoulder against his arm as she passed behind him. “Bet you served it to him anyway.”

“I did. He pretended not to like it. But he ate every bite.”

Later, as she leaned over the counter to taste the sauce, Hannibal offered her a spoon, but his gaze lingered on her lips just a second too long.

She noticed.

Their eyes met. Brief. Electric.

Then she cleared her throat and reached for a pinch of salt. “Needs a touch more.”

“Agreed,” he murmured.

When the risotto was done and the scallops plated, she sat at the kitchen island while he poured the wine, just a single glass for her.

“I’m surprised,” she said, accepting it. “You didn’t insist on a full dining room setup.”

“Not tonight,” Hannibal replied, sitting across from her. “Tonight, I wanted to share the process with you. Not the performance.”

Her heart gave a small, unexpected twist at that.

They ate in a quiet kind of comfort, smiles traded between bites. No rush. No pressure. Just two people in a kitchen, cooking something warm and beautiful together.

When she finally stood to leave, Hannibal walked her to the door, pausing as she slipped on her shoes.

“I had a lovely evening,” she said honestly.

“As did I.”

She hesitated, then added, “Thanks for not making me feel out of place.”

He looked at her, eyes deep and unreadable. “You never were.”

As she took the winding road home, (y/n) tapped her phone on speaker as she drove, still humming a little from the wine and the lingering scent of rosemary on her fingers. Alana picked up halfway through the first ring.

“Well?!” Alana demanded immediately, no greeting whatsoever. “Tell me everything.”

(Y/N) laughed. “Nice to hear from you too.”

“Don’t stall, you menace. How was it? Did he lecture you on truffle oils? Did he judge your knife skills? Did he wear that stupidly perfect apron?”

“Okay, first of all, yes to the apron. And no, he didn’t judge me. It was... actually really lovely. We cooked together.”

“You cooked?” Alana gasped. “He let you touch his precious kitchen?”

“He even corrected my chopping technique. Very gently, I might add.”

“I can’t believe this. You seduced the food snob on the first try.”

“I did not seduce anyone,” (y/n) laughed. “We just… cooked. It was really nice. We’re going to do it again soon.”

A beat of silence.

“You’re doomed,” Alana said gravely. “He’s going to start sending you fresh herbs and philosophical love letters.”

(Y/N) just smiled and let the silence settle, her heart still warm from the night.

The following morning at the office, Alana cornered Will in the hallway outside the lab with all the subtlety of a freight train.

“I have a question,” she said.

“No.” Will narrowed his eyes at her.

“You haven’t even heard it yet.”

“It’s gonna be weird. I can feel it.”

She ignored him completely. “Did you and (y/n) ever date?”

Will blinked once. Then again. “What?”

“Or kiss? Ever? Come on, I need context. She’s sweet and funny and unreasonably cute. I need to know if I’m watching a triangle unfold here.”

Will burst into laughter. “Oh my god. There is no triangle happening.”

“So that’s a yes?”

He held up a hand to slow her down, still grinning. “Not like that. But... yeah, we kissed once.”

Alana’s eyes widened. “WHEN?!”

“After prom. She forced me to go with one of her friends. We were at an after-party. She was in this glittery dress that kept getting caught in the grass, and she decided I couldn’t graduate without kissing anyone."

“She assigned herself that task?”

“Of course she did,” Will said, fondly exasperated. “It was like a drive-by kiss. She grabbed my face and said, ‘Close your eyes, Will Graham, this is for your development,’ and then just did it.”

Alana wheezed. “I love her. When is she coming in?”

“Lunch. She’s bringing sandwiches.”

“Perfect. I’m going to make her tell me that story herself. I want the drama.”

(Y/N) arrived balancing a bag of sandwiches, a tray of cookies, and a giant iced coffee. “Food drop, people! I come bearing carbs and judgment.”

Alana was already perched on a stool like a vulture. “Tell me the prom kiss story.”

(Y/N) blinked. “Wow, straight to it?”

“Will told me just enough to know I need your version.”

She grinned and handed out sandwiches before perching on the edge of the counter.

“Okay. Picture this: senior prom in a small town, with cheap decorations, but the music was great. I made Will come with one of my theater friends because she thought he was mysterious and brooding.”

“She wasn’t wrong,” Alana muttered.

“Well, she ditched us halfway through the night to cry in the bathroom,” (y/n) continued. “So Will and I ended up sneaking out and walking to this bonfire behind someone’s house. He looked like a sad Victorian orphan. It was tragic.”

Will walked in right on cue, holding a file. “I was wearing a tie.”

“You were wearing a tie,” she said dramatically. “And I said, ‘Will Graham, you are not leaving high school without kissing someone, I won’t allow it.’ He said something mopey like, ‘It’s fine, not everyone gets that.’ So I just grabbed his face and kissed him.”

Alana was full-on giggling now.

“And?” she asked.

“And he just blinked and said, ‘Huh.’ Like it was a science experiment that barely registered.”

“I was stunned!” Will protested from the doorway.

“I kissed him on the mouth, Alana! And he just looked at me like I handed him a pop quiz.”

Alana burst out laughing so hard she choked on her water, snorting it through her nose.

(Y/N) gasped. “Oh my god, are you okay?!”

“I’m fine—ow, god—worth it!”

Will sighed, sitting at the table. “I don’t know why I hang out with either of you.”

“Because you love us,” (y/n) and Alana said in unison.

The story was winding down, laughter still echoing off the walls as Hannibal stepped through the door, quiet but observant, like always. His eyes flicked across the room, taking in the last bits of the chaos: Alana wiping tears from her eyes, Will finishing a cookie, and (y/n) still perched on the counter, swinging her legs.

“And I stand by it,” she said with a playful shrug. “Easily my worst kiss.”

Will scoffed. “I wasn’t prepared. You ambushed me!”

“You’re lucky I didn’t bite,” she teased. “Maybe one day we’ll try again. But properly this time.”

Will just shook his head, smirking. “Not happening.”

From the corner, Hannibal tilted his head slightly. “Am I interrupting a… retrospective?”

(Y/N) grinned at him. “Just revisiting my teenage villain era.”

“She kissed Will at an after-prom bonfire and then gave him a C-minus rating,” Alana added helpfully.

“I never gave a rating!” (y/n) gasped, scandalized.

“You implied it,” Will muttered.

Hannibal let a small, amused smile tug at his mouth. “It must be a rare kind of friendship that survives a kiss and still allows such honesty.”

“It is,” she said, meeting his gaze. “But I’m very charming.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

There was a slight pause. One of those moments where something unspoken shimmered in the air.

Then Hannibal asked, his tone casual but eyes watchful, “Would you care to cook with me again? This evening, perhaps?”

(Y/N)’s smile was instant. “I’d love to.”

There was maybe the tiniest bit too much enthusiasm in her voice. Alana definitely caught it.

Alana walked out with (y/n), letting the others fall behind.

“So,” she said under her breath, “you’re seeing him again tonight.”

“It’s just cooking.”

“Sure it is. Wear sexy underwear.”

(Y/N) choked on her own breath, laughing. “Oh my god.”

Behind them, Will made a strangled sound. “Could you not?”

(Y/N) turned to him, teasing. “Stop being jealous. Not everyone can be my worst kiss and my jealous ex.”

That made Alana burst into laughter again, and even Will cracked a reluctant smile.

That evening, she called Alana to get help deciding on something to wear to Hannibal's. She held up a sweatshirt in one hand and a soft, oversized cardigan in the other, frowning at her reflection as her phone buzzed from its propped-up position on the bathroom shelf.

“Why do you look like someone asked you to give a TED Talk on outfit anxiety?” Alana asked, her face filling the screen.

“I want to be cute,” (y/n) groaned, “but not like I’m trying to be cute. I don’t want to show up in a cocktail dress and heels like I misread the assignment, but also I don’t want to look like I rolled out of bed and tripped into a mixing bowl.”

Alana laughed. “Babe, you’re always cute. You could show up in a garbage bag and he’d still watch you stir soup like it was an art form.”

“I hate how validating that sounds.”

“Wear the cardigan. It’s comfy. It’s soft. It’s got that ‘I might steal your shirt later’ vibe.”

(Y/N) looked at herself in the mirror. Cardigan, tank top, her favorite jeans. She looked like… herself.

“Okay,” she said with a nod. “Okay, yeah. Let’s cook.”

The house smelled incredible, warm, savory, rich with rosemary and garlic. (Y/N) stood at the counter, sleeves pushed up, wooden spoon in one hand, and a glass of red in the other. Her cardigan was already tossed over a chair, and her cheeks were flushed—half from the wine, half from how close Hannibal kept getting every time he leaned over her shoulder to check on their dish.

“You’re hovering,” she said, not turning around.

“I’m observing,” he corrected, his voice just behind her ear. “There’s a difference.”

“Oh? And what exactly are you observing?”

“That you’re a very confident cook when you think no one’s watching.”

She turned then, looking up at him over her glass. “You’re very charming when you want to be.”

“I always want to be,” he said softly.

Their eyes held a moment too long before she broke it with a crooked smile and a playful bump of her hip against his.

“I bet you say that to all the girls you lure into your kitchen.”

“Only the ones who know the difference between sea salt and kosher salt,” he murmured.

She laughed, tipping her head back and swirling her wine. “Dangerously high standards. Good thing I’m exceptional.”

“You are,” Hannibal said without missing a beat.

This time she didn’t look away. Something in her gaze softened—not just flirty now, but curious. Searching.

They sat across from each other, candlelight low, the remains of their dinner still on the plates between them. She had kicked off her shoes at some point and was curled in her chair, one leg tucked under her.

“You're not what I expected,” she said, breaking the comfortable silence.

“And what did you expect?”

“I don’t know,” she said, swirling her glass again. “Sharper edges, maybe. More mystery. More... armor.”

Hannibal tilted his head. “Is that what you’d prefer?”

She considered. “No. I think I like knowing what you look like when you laugh. You’re more disarming when you’re... real.”

“I could say the same,” he said. “You’re charming when you’re guarded. But you’re radiant when you’re relaxed.”

She rolled her eyes with a smile. “Stop. You can’t just say things like that with your voice and expect me not to melt into a puddle.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” he asked, stepping closer as she rose from her seat. “Melting?”

“Just a little,” she murmured, not stepping back.

There was a pause—stillness settling between them like dust in sunlight. She could feel the warmth of him, the quiet intensity. Her breath hitched.

And then, soft as a secret, Hannibal leaned down and kissed her.

It wasn’t rushed or hungry. It was slow. Intentional. Like he was memorizing the shape of her lips, the way her fingers curled slightly into his shirt, the slight exhale she gave when they parted.

She opened her eyes, a little dazed. “Well,” she whispered. “That was definitely better than the prom kiss.”

He smiled. “I should hope so.”

The next morning, (Y/N) was already lounging in the front row of the lecture hall, legs crossed, head bent over her phone. A cup of coffee balanced on the edge of her chair arm, her other hand absently flipping through her notifications. She was wearing a soft-looking crewneck and jeans, the picture of casual confidence.

Will stood at the podium, flipping through his notes with mild panic that didn’t match the completely expressionless face he wore.

“You look calm,” (y/n) said without looking up. “Which means you’re internally spiraling and pretending not to be.”

He glanced at her. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

“You’re welcome, professor.”

Before he could throw back a retort, a new voice joined them.

“Well, well, well,” Alana drawled as she strolled into the room. “Good morning, sunshine.”

(Y/N) looked up, grinning. “Hey.”

Alana stopped in front of her, arms crossed, a slow smirk spreading across her face. “You kissed him.”

(Y/N)’s eyes went wide. “What?! I—”

“You so kissed him.”

Will looked up from his notes. “Who kissed who?”

“She kissed Hannibal,” Alana said matter-of-factly, watching (y/n) squirm with delight.

Will’s pencil snapped.

“You did what?”

“Oh, calm down,” (y/n) said, laughing. “It was a kiss, not a blood oath.”

“You can’t kiss my therapist!”

“Technically, I’m not your therapist,” Hannibal’s voice called from the doorway.

Will turned slowly to see him, utterly calm, hands behind his back, watching with polite interest.

“Oh my god,” Will muttered.

Alana and (y/n) both burst into laughter.

The lecture had gone well—Will was always sharper when she was in the room, though he’d never admit it—and (y/n) had gone off with Alana for coffee. That left Will with the uneasy weight of things unsaid.

He found Hannibal under a tree near the building, reading like he always did, like he had all the time in the world.

Will cleared his throat.

Hannibal looked up. “Will.”

“I’m not going to... lecture you,” Will said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “That’s not what this is.”

“Understood.”

Will looked at the ground, then back up. “(Y/N) is amazing. She’s funny and sharp and loyal to a fault. She’ll drive you nuts and then bring you soup the next day.”

Hannibal said nothing, letting him speak.

“I just... I’ve known her a long time,” Will continued. “She deserves someone who sees that. Who respects that. And if you’re not that person—if you hurt her—I will know. And I will not be subtle.”

Hannibal gave him a faint smile. “You underestimate how much I respect her already.”

Will tilted his head. “Good. Then we understand each other.”

Hannibal nodded once, a quiet sort of promise in the gesture.

The following evening, the sun filtered in through the tall windows, casting a soft glow over the gleaming counters and the polished copper pots hanging above Hannibal’s stove. The air was rich with the scent of fresh herbs and roasted garlic, and (y/n) was swaying gently to the old jazz record playing in the background.

She stood barefoot at the counter in a soft-knit top and linen pants, sleeves pushed up as she chopped tomatoes, relaxed and at ease in his kitchen like she’d always belonged there.

“Your knife skills are impressive,” Hannibal said from beside her, voice low, eyes catching the curve of her smile.

“Please. I grew up with four brothers. It was either learn to defend myself with a kitchen knife or starve.”

He chuckled, setting down the spoon he was using to stir the risotto. “A survivalist. I admire that.”

She grinned, nudging him playfully with her elbow. “And here I thought you just liked my soufflés.”

“I like many things about you.”

(Y/N) slowed slightly at that, eyes lifting to meet his. There was nothing teasing in his expression now—just quiet honesty. It made her heartbeat thrum somewhere a little higher in her chest.

“Well,” she said, reaching for the basil, trying to steady herself with humor, “you should see me with a hand mixer.”

He reached across her, plucking a stray strand of hair that had fallen across her face and tucking it behind her ear, fingertips grazing her cheek in a touch so soft she barely breathed.

“I’d very much like to.”

Her eyes met his again, searching, but this time with no trace of nervousness. Just a pull between them that had been growing for weeks now. She looked at him like she could see right through every wall he’d ever built—and for once, he didn’t mind.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” he murmured.

“Good,” she replied, voice quiet but sure, “because I’m starving.”

They finished cooking side by side, laughing occasionally, brushing shoulders often—each touch unspoken permission to linger. When they sat down to eat, candles flickered on the table, and the conversation flowed as easily as the wine between them.

When she stood to clear the plates, Hannibal gently took them from her hands and set them aside.

“Don’t worry about those just yet,” he said. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.”

She raised a brow, heart already picking up speed. “Should I be nervous?”

“Only if you plan to say no.”

He took a small step closer. Close enough that she could smell the spice on his shirt, feel the warmth radiating off him.

“I’d like to take you out,” he said. “A real date. One that doesn’t involve risotto or lecture halls.”

(Y/N)’s face broke into a smile, wide and warm and utterly delighted.

“Well,” she said slowly, “if you’re going to ask me on a date, Dr. Lecter, you better mean it.”

He smiled, and this time it reached his eyes. “I do.”

“Then yes,” she said, lifting her chin. “I’d love that.”

“Good.”

She didn’t move at first, letting the moment settle. Then, leaning in just a little, she brushed a soft kiss against his cheek—just near his mouth.

“Let me know if I should bring dessert,” she said softly, turning to grab her coat.

“You already did.”

[000000-000000-000000]

Hi Beautiful!! I’ve been following your work and I love it soooo much :) Could you possibly do some sort of smut with EJ? My idea is the female reader convinced him to get a matching eyebrow or tongue piercing with her, and she’s the one piercing him? Or if you wanna mess the concept , I’m totally cool with that! Thank you so much, hope you have a lovely day <3 (sorry if that didn’t make sense, English isn’t my primary language)

hi angel!! thank you so much teehee 🫶🏻🫶🏻 this is so fucking hot and fun, pierced/body mod jack owns about 80% of my brain and the entirety of my heart, i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it hehe <3

Balltongue (Eyeless Jack x F!Reader)

CW: needles and piercing tongues duh, unsafe piercing handling, dry humping, oral (f receiving and giving), sloppy toppy fr, throatpie :P

word count 3.9k

You weren’t even sure how you got him to agree. You’d begged. Bargained. Maybe pouted a little. Maybe muttered "please let me pierce you so we can match" every time you sucked his dick, thinking that if you caught him off guard he would relent. He didn't.

But after a month or two of stubborn, stonewalling deadpan refusals—based on medical risks he listed to you more times than you could count—and attrition warfare, Jack finally caved with this heavy, world-weary sigh like he's doing something awful instead of agreeing to be hot and slutty for you.

Which brought you here, perched in his lap on his bed, thighs bracketing his hips and the mattress creaking under both your weight and his patience. Elbow deep in prep like you’re about to perform minor surgery instead of pierce his tongues; a pair of his gloves snapped tight on your hands and a tray of tools laid out beside you like you know what the fuck you’re doing. Which—let’s be real—you kind of do. You pierced your own tongue months ago. Healed by the time he resigned. Perfectly centered? No. Hot as fuck? Absolutely.

Jack, for his part, looks like a man walking calmly toward the gallows. Not that he’s anxious—just unimpressed. Still steady on his idea that this is unnecessary trauma to a perfectly functional part of the body. But here you are.

“Remind me again,” he muttered before spitting out the mouthwash in the same cup you handed him, grimacing like the taste offended him, “why the fuck I need three piercings when you got one?”

"I have one tongue, babe," you grinned, "you're the freak with a trifecta of slimy muscle in your mouth. It's only fair."

"What's fair," Jack grunted, leaning back against the headboard with a flat look, hands heavy on your thighs like he was bracing for execution, "is anatomical equality."

"Exactly. That's why you're getting three," you quipped cheerfully, leaning over him with the piercing needle hovering close to his face. "Stop glaring at me and stick one of them out."

"I don't have eyes," he exhales through his nose, the sound low and even more annoyed than usual. But he tips his head back obediently anyway, throat bare, mouth opening like a drawbridge lowering with military precision, offering the first tongue with a robotic kind of patience.

"I can feel it," you huffed a laugh, adjusting your position with a small roll of your hips, just enough for your heat to rub into his lap. He doesn't comment. "Ready?"

"No." Utterly blank, but he didn't pull away.

You even went as far as to flip it up to check the placement of the veins on the bottom—real professional-like—before placing the tip of the first needle on the seam in the muscle and pushing through. Jack didn't even blink. His hands tightened on your thighs when the needle sliced through tissue, but there was no sound, no protest. Just that slight pull where skin meets metal, and then a quieter exhale when you thread the bar through.

You pulled back to inspect your work before he retracted his tongue and clicked the piercing against his teeth to check the new weight, and the throb between your legs was near instant.

"You already look so fucking hot," you bit your lip, tossing the needle in the trashcan at the foot of the bed without taking your eyes off his mouth, "you okay?"

He paused, and you swore you could feel his cock twitch under you, hardening. Or maybe your imagination was starting to get away from you with the mental image you conjured up—his mouth between your legs like he's nosing into fruit, piercing balls rubbing over your folds, catching on your clit, like having more to work with meant using all of it.

"Ask me when you're done assaulting all three."

You reach for the second tongue, knees planted firmly into the mattress, barely controlling the urge to grind down on him again. He extends it with a slight roll of his jaw, letting the others stay curled behind his teeth. You admire the way his throat bobs when he swallows, the muscle moving in his jaw, how together he looks even now—like no matter how turned on he gets, no matter how wet you’re getting on his lap, he’s not gonna crack until he wants to.

This time, his hips jump under you when the second needle goes in. Just a reflexive jolt. But it’s enough. Enough to make your cunt pulse around nothing and to make you bite down on your bottom lip, the curve of your mouth twisting up around it.

“You’re being such a good boy for me,” you croon mockingly, leaning in so your breath ghosts over his mouth. “So quiet. So obedient. Is it turning you on, baby? Letting me sit in your lap and poke holes in you?”

You quickly give up the restraint you barely had to begin with and you grind down again, slow and deliberate, dampening spot on your crotch rubbing right against the thick press of his cock under you, now rock solid.

The second needle is still threaded through his tongue when his brows furrow—deep, offended, like you just personally insulted him. And maybe you did, a little. He's sitting here with his tongue pinned by a glint of steel and you're dry humping instead of finishing the job.

But he can’t say shit. Literally. So instead, his palm smacks firm and sharp over your ass, fingers curling tightly in the aftermath, claws stinging where they poke through your leggings. Not playful. Not punishing. Just directive.

Your breath catches, stomach tightening in knots. “Jesus,” you mutter, laughing a little, “Okay. Impatient.”

You hold the barbell up to his mouth like a lollipop, gently guiding it through the second tongue as you hum, voice thick with syrup and bite, "Can't wait to feel these on my pussy, baby."

He doesn't react, but he does breathe heavier through his nose. Barely. But you catch it, another sharp throb under you. You glance down and smile, sharp and vicious. You keep going, because you fucking got him. And how could you turn down the opportunity to rile him up when it presents itself?

“Thinking about how it’s gonna feel when I sit on your face,” you murmur, soft and sultry as the barbell slides into place, “how you'll make me cum all over your mouth with these decked out tongues."

Jack’s hands twitch against your hips like he wants to argue. But he doesn’t. He just exhales again, slower this time, and flexes his fingers. You can feel how wound up he is, tension coiled tight under his skin like he's moments away from going off like a firearm.

He sticks out the third tongue on command, calm again, like he’s not actively dying to pin you down and fuck you stupid. When it slid forward, it trembled slightly at the tip.

"Aw," you crooned softly. "This one’s scared."

"No," he croaked flatly, "it's smarter than the other ones."

You snorted and leaned closer, mouth brushing his ear. “Want me to fuck it better after?”

His chest moved with a shallow breath, sharp and controlled, voice holding a hint of bite. “Pierce it.”

The third needle went in harder—the muscle more dense, tense—and he moaned. Just a little. Low and choked. Not dramatic. But genuine. It slipped out of him like it wasn’t meant to. Just a flash of pain, edged in something that sounds dangerously close to pleasure.

Your grin is instant. “Oh?” you tease, breath warm and fanning over his tongue as you screw on the last ball. “You like pain now?”

He doesn’t answer.

His hand fists into your hair, palm wide and hot against your nape, and drags your mouth to his without a sound. No warning. No question. His lips crash into yours like he’s been starving for it for hours.

You struggle to slip out of your gloves—rubber sticking to your skin, catching on your thumbs in the haste—and kiss him back with everything in you, sterile tray forgotten, needles and pain and aftercare all abandoned because fuck.

Your fingers slide up into his hair, tugging, and the kiss turns molten fast—sloppy, wet, needy. You can taste the faint metallic tang of blood, metal clinking faintly as your piercings clash, his hot breath puffing over your upper lip as he hisses with the fresh sting.

It's not long before you’re grinding again, no longer teasing—just needy, quick friction, his palms kneading at your ass, guiding the motion of your hips against him like he's sculpting it, perfecting it.

You’re soaked through. You feel it, damp heat clinging between your legs, begging for attention, the way it smears over the rough front of his pants with every motion. Jack keeps you moving—pressing you down, up, down again—grinding you into the shape of his need like he’s etching it into memory.

When he drags one of his tongues along your neck, you shudder. The muscle is slick and warm, still throbbing from the needle, and the ball drags slow and shaky over your skin, leaving a trail of spit and heat that makes your knees tighten around his hips. He doesn’t moan. Doesn’t groan. But his hands grip tighter when he tastes the sweat there, claws flexing like he’s anchoring himself.

“F-fuck,” you breathe, voice already wrecked.

He hums against you, lips open and plush on your throat. Then he’s moving—lifting your shirt, not ripping it, not frantic, but hurried. Hands steady, movements smooth but impatient.

“You’re smell like you're fucking soaked,” he mutters, voice low and frayed at the edges, slightly slurred around the new weight in his mouth. “Are you a sadist now? Getting wet while you pierce me?"

You grin. “Can you blame me? Fucking listen to yourself, baby."

Jack growls—quiet, breathy, like a broken exhale—and suddenly he’s pushing you back. His thumbs hook into your shirt and he bunches it under your arms, then it goes flying somewhere behind you. He gets your bra up fast, one hand groping your tit while his mouth descends—tongues and lips and that raw, new pressure from the piercings all swirling around your nipple until you arch and moan right into the crown of his head.

It’s so wet. Lapping, licking, sucking—each new flick from his tongues leaving trails that cool too slow, making your skin burn. He sucks a little harder—sharp teeth grazing the sensitive bud just once—and when your breath stutters and hips buck, he grins against your chest, all teeth and silent heat.

He moves down, lips dragging over your sternum and down your stomach, tongues flicking in tandem, tasting every inch of skin like it matters.

And as you lift your hips off the bed like instinct, to help him get to the main course faster, he licks a slow stripe over the crotch of your leggings. Straight through the soaked fabric where it sticks to your pussy.

You jerk in surprise. “Oh my—fuck—”

“You taste desperate,” he says simply, monotone as ever—like his aching cock isn't sandwitched between his stomach and the mattress, hips rocking where the friction's mounting—and presses his face in again. The heat of him radiates through you like a furnace. His tongues spread as they lap, tasting slick through cotton, brows twitching with a low grunt when the piercings catch into the seam, sending a flash of sting through the muscle. He doesn't seem bothered, though.

“You’re such a fucking pervert,” you whisper, but you’re laughing, breath hitching as he noses into the curve of your pussy again. "You're gonna get an infection."

"Should've given a shit when you were riding me five minutes ago."

You can almost hear the eye roll in his voice as he yanks the waistband down to your knees with firm finality, claws scraping the outside of your thighs, and he exhales right over your cunt—drenched, flushed, throbbing in the open air.

His mouth drops to it like he’s starved.

You gasp the second his tongues make contact—not just from the heat of him, or the obscene way he moans into you like he needs it, but because fuck, those fresh piercings burn as they drag over your folds.

The metal’s cold at first—sharp pinches of chill against slick heat—but then it’s just sting. You twitch when the bead of the bar in his middle tongue bumps against your clit, just a little too firm, and you flinch—more from shock than pain.

“Jack—fuck,” you breathe, hips jolting.

He huffs against your cunt, an actual scoff that vibrates through you—like it’s fucking offensive to him that he doesn’t have total control over the movement. Like his own pain is an inconvenience he’s choosing to ignore out of spite.

He's always so precise. So devastating.

But now he’s raw and a little unsteady, dragging the ball of a barbell over your clit again and missing a bit. Slips too far to the side.

You laugh—a breathy, broken chuckle that barely escapes your lips.

“Ohhh, baby,” you coo, drunk on it, “what’s the matter? Not used to the new hardware?”

His hand slams up across your chest—hot and firm and absolutely done with you—and presses down on your throat. Holding you down, fingers splayed under your jaw in a firm warning.

Then, he spits right on your pussy. A fat, wet glob lands just above your clit and trails down—hot and slick and disrespectful. And he's back on you with a vengeance.

He doesn’t slow this time. Doesn’t hesitate. Just dives in, two tongues pushing inside you with a wet squelch that punches the air from your lungs. Middle tongue licks you from slit to clit, flicking in messy, aching little swipes, metal catching on your clit—just barely, but enough to make your vision spark. Cold metal followed by heat and saliva and the scrape of textured flesh, enough to make your toes curl.

“Jack—”

You choke on his name and the hand on your throat tightens enough to make you feel your pulse against it. The other runs hot and wide over your stomach, down your thigh, then presses under your knee and hauls your leg up, opening you with no mercy. He plants your thigh over his shoulder, locking you in place.

His brows twitch with effort, mouth full of cunt and face buried so deep it’s like he’s trying to breathe through your clit. He groans when your walls flutter around his tongues, and the sound makes your thighs shake like it's rattling your soul. Each movement of his mouth is sloppy, uncalibrated—but it doesn’t matter. The heat, the wet, the way he’s fucking you with two tongues and torturing your clit with the third, piercings dragging over every soft spot—you cum without warning.

It hits like a fucking grenade going off in your pelvis. You cry out, fingers locking in his hair as your thighs clamp around his head. Your cunt clenches helplessly, fluttering around his tongues, grinding into his mouth and nose with desperate, twitchy movements.

He doesn’t stop. You twitch. Sob. Whimper, and he just holds your legs up and your throat down and slurps through it, drinking it in like it’s holy.

He groans as he pulls back once your voice finally breaks on his name and your nails scrabble at his shoulders, licking his lips like he’s trying to soothe the sting—but you can still see the way his jaw tightens. Still feel the heat of it on your thighs.

“Fucking—” he mutters, voice hoarse, gruff, still wet with you. “Hurts like a bitch.”

You huff a laugh, fucked-out and breathless, legs still twitching. “Yeah? You’re the one who kept going.”

He runs a hand through his hair—messy, damp with sweat. His mouth twitches, not a smile, but something halfway between annoyed and pained. “If I get sepsis, I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“You’re gonna die with your face buried in pussy?” You grin, still panting. “What a way to go.”

He doesn’t even respond. Just unzips his pants and grips his cock at the base once it's free, hard and flushed, and gives you a flat look.

“Come suck this dick.”

Your whole body reacts—knees already folding under you as you crawl between his legs. The mattress creaks beneath you both, the air still thick with sex and heat and that sharp tang of metal and alcohol. Your tongue flashes over your lips as you settle on your stomach between his thighs, elbows propped and ready.

You curl your fingers around the base of his cock, thick and heavy in your palm, and lean in.

Spit hits his tip before your mouth does. You drool for it, tongue flat and spreading slick along the vein on the underside, swirling just under the crown like you’re kissing it. Then you flatten your tongue and drag your piercing right over the slit, collecting pre-cum and humming at the taste.

“You’re fucking leaking,” you murmur, voice all sugar and spit. “Like you liked eating pussy with those things.”

He grunts. “Didn’t say I didn’t.”

You hum and open your mouth wide, taking him in deep—wet, hot, sloppy from the start. You don’t bother being pretty about it. You drool around him, eyes fluttering as spit pools at the corners of your lips and drips down to his balls.

Your free hand cups them, slick with your own spit, and you pull them into your mouth too—rolling your tongue around one, then the other, moaning high and sweet like they’re candy. His hand sinks into your hair, gentle only for a moment.

“Fuck,” he mutters, rough and low.

You pull back with a wet pop, smear your tongue up his shaft, then flick it hard against the head again. The metal of your piercing taps his tip just right and he groans low in his chest, hips flexing up to chase your mouth.

“You like that?” you breathe, licking slow and wide over him. “Feels good with the piercing, huh?”

“Yeah,” he huffs, deep and strained, “like getting head from a fucking rattlesnake.”

You laugh against his cock, and he growls again—like it’s offensive that you’re laughing while you’ve got his dick in your mouth.

He leans over you and slaps your ass once. Loud. Sharp.

“Lift it.”

You blink up at him, smile tugging your lips. “You can’t even see it.”

He shrugs.

"I can imagine it.”

Still—you do it. You arch your back a little, tilt your hips so your ass is up and your legs are spread, letting him imagine the mess between them. Because he knows exactly what it looks like when you’re like this. Helpless. Hungry.

He fists a hand in your hair and guides you back down, slow.

“Open up,” he rasps. “Show me that filthy mouth.”

Your lips are already swollen, chin soaked, hair a mess as you glance up at him with that smug little glint—but you obey. You always obey when he talks like that.

You roll your tongue out slowly, lewd and lazy, the ball of your piercing glinting with spit, strings stretching from your teeth down to your chin. Drool leaking, soaking the sheets under your tits. You're grinning—humoring him, teasing, even though he can’t see the sight you’re giving him.

Doesn’t matter.

Jack feels it. The heat of your breath, the hunger in the way you whine a little under your breath just from holding still, waiting for him.

“Yeah,” he mutters, rough and low, “just like that. My pretty cockdrunk slut."

He slaps his cock down on your tongue, thick and hot, over and over. Drags the tip over the metal to feel the obscene slide of it, lips parted and bitten, and shoves himself into your mouth.

“Open,” he snaps, voice low and taut with restraint that’s already slipping.

You choke instantly—your mouth crammed full, his cock hitting your throat before you’re even ready, but he doesn’t stop. He fists both hands in your hair and uses you, fucking your mouth like it’s just a hole to bury himself in.

You can barely breathe. Sucking in what little air you can through your nose between each harsh thrust of his hips. His hips drive forward again and again, slapping against your face, your nose mashed into the now damp, trimmed thatch of hair at the base. You gag, spit gurgling in your throat, leaking out your nose and dripping onto your chest—but you stay there. Because you fucking love it.

Love the burn of the stretch, love the animal growls you suck out of him, love the way his usually emotionless face contorts in pleasure for you—so deep it looks like agony.

He knows you love it.

His grip gets tighter, claws scraping scalp.

“Take it,” he snarls, voice cracking. “Take it like you fucking mean it, sweetmeat, c'mon—"

You feel the twitch first.

You gurgle a moan around him, useless tears stinging your eyes as you look up at him through your lashes, throat tightening in response, and that's what gets him.

He thrusts in deep, deeper, stays there.

Then the burn.

Then the flood—thick, hot, salty. Gushing straight into your throat.

You choke, swallow, slobber running down your chin in fat ropes as he fills you up. A guttural moan tears out of him, something feral and fucked, and his hips shake with the force of it.

He doesn’t pull out until he's sure you're not breathing.

Then he yanks you back by the hair, wet strands clinging to your cheeks, your mouth falling open on instinct to gasp for air, spit and cum trailing out in shiny ropes—and with a gentleness you never expect no matter how many times you see it, his claws rake through your hair to push it back without as much as grazing your skin.

The following weeks? Hell.

Jack didn’t get a tongue infection. He got three. His entire mouth was a battlefield. No amount of salt water gargles were saving him from that fate. By the end of the week, he was grunting through swollen tongues, crusted studs, and the kind of fever that made his skin clammy and his will to leave nonexistent.

You made the mistake of laughing the first time he tried to growl at you and it came out all gurgled and wet—he flipped you off so hard you almost choked on your food.

Still, you helped him clean the piercings. Blended his organs into chunky soup he grimaced at every time—somehow more revolted than you.

He healed, of course. Bitched and sulked through the worst of it. Refused to kiss you for a week.

But he didn’t take them out.

[luvlygirl0]

Birthday Disaster

Joel x reader

Summary: You and your Husband of 2 years have been living happily in Austin with your step daughter Sarah. One day you were celebrating Joel’s 36th birthday and towards the end… it was over

Warning: 18+! MDNI. Smut. Unprotected pnv.(f receiving). Dom !Joel. Dirty talk. Blind fold, fingering, Blowjob (m reserving) Age gap (not a big one) reader is 26 Joel is 36. Mention of death (I’m so sorry)mention of blood. (Readers name is Kimberly)

If I’m forgetting anything so sorry

Authors note: Hello Luvs<3 hope you like this. I’m sorry this doesn’t follow the exact story line of the first episode, it’s like a little twist. This is my first story and this has been on my mind for a long time. Sorry if it’s a little off

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The sun peeked through the window of the shared room that belonged to you and your husband, Joel. Slowly peeking up, you turned over to your left to the nightstand and read 7:01 a.m. on the alarm clock. You rubbed your morning eyes and stretched. The birds were chirping, and the cold morning air was brushing in from the window. As quietly and slowly as you could, you crawled out of bed to try and not wake Joel up. On the other side of the bed, there was a very sleepy Joel who was passed out from the fun activities you and he were doing the night prior.

You slowly picked up your PJs. Slipping them on and your slipper. Soon you were slipping through the door and down the stairs. Halfway down the smell of Pancakes was whiffing in your face. That’s how you knew Sarah was up and ready for school. She was always up and ready to go on weekday mornings. By the time either you or Joel were up she was already down stairs and dressed. For the 5 years you have known her, she was a good kid. It’s one of the many things you loved about Sarah.

“Morning kid” you smiled while kissing the top of her head. You slid past her to grab the morning coffee

“Morning! I’m making pancakes, hope you are hungry” she said waving the spatula around in the air. You giggled as she went back to flipping them

“Oh I’m starving, but you know your father hates pancakes…” you arched your eyebrow, Grabbing your coffee as you sat down at the dining table in the middle of the kitchen.

“I know but it’s all we currently have” she halved smiles still flipping them. You got up from your chair and walked over to her and side hugged her. “You need help with any of this?” You asked. “Could you cut some fruit? I love having fruit with my pancakes” with no hesitation you grabbed a knife and some fresh fruits from the fridge and immediately started cutting them up.

“What do you think your dad might want for his birthday?” you stopped cutting so Sarah could hear you. “Um well, he’s not big on birthdays…I’m fixing his old watch for him…not sure… I know he’s been wanting new tools for work” she took the pancakes of the pan and started setting them neatly on a plate. “Perfect” you cheered. After work you could stop by the hardware store Joel loved so much and pick up new tools. Hopefully there is a good spot to put them so he doesn’t see till tomorrow.

Soon enough it’s like you both summoned him. You turned to see Joel rolling up his sleeves and still semi waking up. You smiled as you saw the Handsome man walk into the kitchen with his t-shirt clunged to his biceps. He also paired it with his blue dirty jeans that he always wears and his work boots. “Well look at my two favorite girls bonding at 7:30am” he kissed Sarah at the top of her head before coming over and kissing you on the lips. “Ew” Sarah fake gagged. Joel rolled his eyes before grabbing whatever was left in the coffee pot. “What did my sweet daughter make this morning” he sipped his coffee and settled into the chair.

“Well I made pancakes” she giggled. You looked over at Joel who gave her a little playful glar. “How nice of her right Joel” you blinked. “Thank you sweetheart” he gave her a smile.

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After breakfast Joel took Sarah to school and you headed over to the office. It was going to be a long day because the CEO was stopping in which meant meeting all day and only 1 hour lunch break. Luckily your work best friend was here to save the day. You have been with the company for 7 years, what was before an internship at 19 turned into a full time job at 20 years old.

One day you and Ethan ( your work bestie) were out for lunch after meetings all morning. You had gotten up to go freshen up before heading back to the office when you were not paying attention and knocked into someone and spilling their coffee all over them. You looked up and saw a 6 foot man with broad shoulders in a flannel with a white t shirt under it and dark blue jeans with a work belt around his hips. You lost your self in his brown eyes as they looked over your face. When you were brought back to reality you quickly apologized. “Holy cow I am so sorry! Oh fuck I was not paying attention” you quickly walked over to the little station to grab napkins. “It’s totally fine. I guess it gets rid of the sweat smell” he laughed. “Shit this is not gonna come out” you still tried to rub it. “Don’t even worry about it, I have an extra shirt in my truck for this reason I guess” he locked eyes with you. He seemed so gentle and so calm you thought you were going crazy. “I’m Joel” he held out his hand for you to shake. His hands were so soft but a little dirty. He must have just come from work or on a break. “I’m uh-um- Kimberly, well Kim to my friends but- you can call me Kim.” Really? You were so focused you forgot your own name? Get it together! “Again I’m so sorry please let me buy you a new coffee to make it up to you” freaking out still you were moving back and forth to the trash can throwing away the very damp napkins. “How about you make it up at dinner” he flashed a charming smile. Ugh that smile. How could you say no to that smile. The kind that could make anyone faint on the floor in a heart beat. “Uh- that sounds perfect” he handed you his little flip phone so you could type your number in there. Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was running a marathon. All of this over you being stupid and not paying attention. “There” you handed him back his phone. He looked at the new created contract and slid the phone back into his pocket. “I’ll text you later to set it up” He met your gaze one last time and for a second non of you said anything before a wild Ethan popped up behind you pulling out for imaginary land.

“So sorry to interrupt but Kim we gotta get back to the office” he tapped you on the shoulder.

“See you later Darlin” he winked then walking off

“Bye” you said quietly before turning back to Ethan.

“UM HELLO? WHO was that hunk” he stared Joel down

“A guy I spilled coffee over and I’m making it up to him over dinner” for a second it felt like a dream. Or those cringy ass romance movies you saw all the time. “Well we are gonna have to pick out a sexy ass outfit for you. But first we gotta get back” you both turned away walking to the car.

A couple days later You and Joel did go out on that date. It was fantastic and super memorable. Which obviously it turned into something serious. When you turned 23 Joel suprised you with a super fancy dinner and then proposed that very night. And at 24 you were in a white wedding dress saying “I Do” and you couldn’t be happier

“Earth to Kim!” Ethan pulled you out of day dreaming. In one hand he had a clip board and in the other he had his mug that said “I just work here” written on it. “You good girl?” He gave you a weird look. “Mhm, was just thinking….Joels 36th birthday is tomorrow and according to Sarah he wants new tools” you motioned your hands in the air imitating jazz hands. “How original” he mocked you. “Well you ready to kick ass in that conference room?” He turned “yep, let’s go!” You got up out of your chair and headed towards the room that said conference room on the door.

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The next morning rolled around. After work yesterday you ran to the hardware store and grabbed his gift and also hit the grocery store before Joel got home so you had time to his his gift. Like always the sun peeked through the window and you looked over to the left side of you to the clock that read 7:05am. You smiled and rolled over to the other side of the bed where there was a sleepy Joel still knocked out. You pulled the covers up a little bit before slipped on top of him. “Morning Birthday Boy” your soft morning voice pressed against his cheek which earned you a smile. “Well good morning sweetheart” his wondering hands made it to your hips before planting a kiss on your forehead. “And how did the birthday boy sleep?” You stared into his big brown sleepy eyes. “Well I slept great. But this is better” he said before planting a kiss on your lips. “Now how should we start this beautiful morning. With going down stairs and eat breakfast or…” you slipped your head passed the thick sheets, Making your way down the bed. “Hm.. I like this way better” he smiled before shifting his head back. You made your way to his PJ pants that he slept in and slipped your fingers at the base before sliding them down a little. “Here is birthday boys first gift” before he had time to process what you said, his cock sprung out and your mouth was already on the tip. Joel yanked the sheet off of you both so he could see that pretty little face of yours. “Oh baby” he said shifting into place. His hands wandered to the top of your head, playing with the locks. You slowly licked the tip and you could taste the pre cum that was springing out. You looked up and saw Joel already falling apart and you hadn’t even done anything. You hollowed your cheeks and began sucking. A slight grunt sprung out of his throat,It was the best sound you have heard. “God you are so good at this” he played with your hair as you continued to suck him off. You bobbed your head a little more down taking what you could. Joel was not a small man, he was proud on what he had. “ Fuck bab-“ before he could finish that sentence a yell from down stairs interrupted you guys. “BREAKFAST IS READY!” Sarah yelled. You looked up to a worried Joel who looked at the door then at you. “Call off of work” he cupped your chin. “We arnt don’t just yet” you slowly back off the bed putting on clothes as he did the same. As you put on a shirt Joel stepped up to you towering over you “I’m gonna take Sarah to school and call Tommy to let him know I’m taking a personal day. When I come home we are gonna finish what you started. You understand Sweetheart” he looked at you with stern eyes. “Yessir” you flashed back. Your cheeks were on fire and you could feel your self getting heated.

You both walked down stairs and saw Sarah putting the table together. When she saw Joel she stopped what she was doing and ran to hug him “Happy birthday Daddy” she squeezed him tightly. “Sarah what did I do to deserve you” he hugged back then planted a kiss at the top of her head. “I made eggs with bacon and toast so eat up before work” she walked back to the table to finish setting up. You looked at her and mouthed “thank you” she gave you a smile and went back to setting up. You walked to the fridge to grab the orange juice and start a pot of coffee. “Sarah would you like some Orange juice?” You asked. “Yessir please” you grabbed a cub out of the cabinet and started pouring. “Baby. Usual coffee?” You looked up to see him already eating. “Yes please darlin” his accent spit out. “Oh dad! I have something for you” Sarah turned and picked something off the floor. A little green box was placed on the table in front of Joel. “Sarah…you didn’t have to get- thank you sweetheart” he gave her a kiss on the cheek. He flipped open the box and found a silver watch played perfectly. “You fixed it for me?” He looked at her. “Well you weren’t gonna fix it for yourself so I did it for you” she smiled. “Really? I don’t hear anything” he placed the watch up to his ear. For a second Sarah got worried but then found out he was fucking with her. “Thank you sweetie, seriously thank you” he gave her a hug and placed the watch back into the box and set it on the table. You grabbed everyone’s cups and set them up in their spots. You grabbed the remote to the kitchen TV and flipped it to the news. “Break news a new virus has now entered America. Authorities are advising everyone to stay away from any down town areas as it is spreading.” The news lady said. You flashed a look at Joel then Sarah who set her fork down. “I’m sure it’s nothing sweetie okay?” He reassured Sarah then placing a hand on hers. She looked back down at her breakfast picking at it. “Listen Imma take you to school and then later we can all have cake…okay?” He looked at both of us, both with worried faces. “Okay…I promised Mr Adler I would go over after school. When I get home we can have cake..okay?” She asked picking at her food again. “Sounds perfect.” The rest of breakfast everyone was silent. Not much was really said. And just like normal Joel took Sarah to school.

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When Joel got home he found you sitting in the couch reading a book you’ve been meaning to read for some time now. “Did you let work know?” He set his keys in the bowl that was on the table that was next to the front door, then kicking off his boots. “Yes, told them I was “feeling under the weather”” you giggled setting your book down. “Thank you for spending the day with me” Joel settled into the spot next to you on the couch. “Anything for you” you kissed him on the cheek. You placed your head on his shoulder and for a few minutes it was dead silent. Not that you mind, just being here with Joel was good enough. For the first time in minutes you spoke up. “Hun…are you worried about the virus” your stared at the plan wall in the living room. “I mean…as long as we are careful…we will get through it. You, me, and Sarah. We are family, we will get through anything” he looks down at you. He was always good at calming you down, it’s another thing you loved about him. “I love you babe” you lifted your head. “I love you more than words can explain” he said back. He paused. You could feel your heart beating through your chest. His breathing picked up a little as well. “Now… how about get back to what we started earlier” he grinned “well it is your day sir, whatever you want” you teased brushing your thumb against his bottom lip. “Hm..anything?”the tip of his nose poked the tip of yours. In the corner of your eye you could see his bulge starting to grow. “Mhm” is all you managed to get out. “I want you to go upstairs. And wait on that bed of ours. Fully naked. In 5 minutes I will return upstairs. And I will do whatever I want to you- how does that sound” you could feel the hotness of his breath lingering on you. “I’ll be waiting” you slipped off the couch and walked up the stairs as Joel walked into the kitchen to wash his hands.

Exactly 5 minutes later you heard the door open. Joel slipped into the room and saw you on the edge of the bed. Just like he asked. Fully naked. Just like he asked. Your eyes darted towards him. “So she does what she is told- good girl” he walked over to you lifting up your chin. You could feel the heat growing beneath you. “I want to take my sweet old time with this sweet body that I can call mine” he slipped his t shirt off and started marching back and forth just looking at you. You didn’t look at him you just stared at the wall. Letting him soak in everything that he is about to do. “I’m gonna take good care of you, understand?” He said standing in front of you. “Yes sir” you said stern. “Hm- good- now lie down for me” just like he said you moved to the center of the bed and lied down. Just like before he studied you, took his sweet time with it as well. “You are so gorgeous. Do you know that darlin?” He climbed on top of you. You nodded not saying anything as he planted kisses all over you. First in the crook of your neck making his way to your tummy. “What’s the matter… darlin. You started something earlier and I’m just finishing it.” He kissed your belly button. “Joel- please” you whimpered out, your body started getting heated. “Oh babygirl… just like you said… it’s my day…anything I want- and what I want is to take my sweet time” he straddled you with both knees on each side of your hips. “Here’s what we are gonna do” you could feel the dip in where he leaned over to his side of the night stand. He opened the drawer and took out a black blind fold and held it into his hands as he met back to your gaze. “You are gonna wear this until I say so. You are gonna be a good girl and listen to me. Understand” his voice is stern. You nod looking up at him. “Repeat it” he says stern again. You took a deep breath. “You are gonna put the blind fold on me until you say so. I’m going to be a good girl and listen to you” your eyes widen at every word that just came out of your mouth. You motions you to lift your head. He then ties the black cloth around your head till you can’t see anything. You could feel him getting off the bed and studying you once again. “This morning you thought you were so cute, sucking me off like that hm? Almost getting caught.” He paces back and forth. “It’s my turn now darlin” he grabs your legs and drags you to the edge of the bed. He leans down kissing your kneel leaving tiny marks that could be covered. He cups one of your breasts in his big hand and drags his mouth over the other one. You squirm a little letting out little moans as he sucks on one. He was gentle with it though, he was indeed savoring the moment. You move your hands to the top of his hair interlocking his dark hair with your fingers,He takes the free hand and places both hands above your head. You whine not being able to feel his hair as he nibbles your breast as if he didn’t just have breakfast. “These are gonna be placed here till I say so” you squirm more moving your hips up a little. Before you were even ready Joel moves his hand down to your thighs, kissing them leading up to your entrance. Your breathing picks up a little bit as you were getting impatient and Joel noticed. “Aw, she’s getting impatient” he stops kissing your thighs. “Please-” you managed to get out. He continued to kiss his way up more and more stopping at your pussy. He brought his hand to your entrance. He could feel how wet you were before we really did anything. “I haven’t even done a whole lot and you are already wet for me” he teased. He saw the way your chest moved off and on the mattress, he was enjoying it to much.

Joel took one finger and made his was slowly. The coldness of his fingers made you squirm more, that feeling on your bare skin sent goosebumps on you. Once he got you warmed up he added another finger. You moaned when he added another finger. Not being able to see him was killing you. You know he was smiling and enjoying every second, every noise that passed your pretty little lips, the movement that you made when he barely touched you. He pumped his fingers in hitting you in the perfect spot. He brought him self to your lips kissing you, making it hard for you to focus on one thing. “You sound so pretty when you take my fingers. Those noises that you make this 10x better” he continues to pump his fingers inside of you. You can feel your self unfolding, you bring your head up just little bit trying to see passed the blind fold. But nothing. Your head flinches back as you let out another moan. The not in your stomach starts to form bigger and bigger and with a few for thrust it would come undone. “Joel. FUCK-” he smiled while kissing the crook of your neck. “Let me touch you” you begged “not just yet darling” you cried, wanting to touch him. Wanting to place your hands on his back. “Fuck you feel so good around my fingers” you moaned at his comment. “I’m- ugh—” you couldn’t finish your sentence. “Go ahead darlin…come undone on my fingers” once you got his approval he thrusted his fingers further and that after a few deep thrusts you came on his fingers. You were trying to catch your breath when he took the blind fold off your face. The light caught you off guard for a second but you got used to it.

“If you think we are done. You are so wrong..lay back down” you followed as he said. He grabbed your thighs and pushed you close to his waist. Your legs were dangling off the edge of the bed. You looked at him as he looked at you waiting for you to say the word. Once you figured out what he was waiting for you nodded your head in approval. He waisted no time and brought his lips to you again. He was hungry and devouring everything he could. You brought yourself up a little bit and unbuckled his belt, He helped you get it off and along with his boxers and jeans. His already hard cock sprung out, already glistening with pre cum.He stepped out of them and kicked them off the side a little so they were not in the way. He went back to kissing you. Both of you not breaking it at all. Not once. He brought his hand to his cock and lined it up with your entrance Still not breaking the kiss, after a little bit he looked at you as he slowly pushed himself inside getting you used to his size. You let out a little moan when he did. “Ready?” He looked at you. You nodded and layed back down. He put one hand on the other side of your head as he thrusted himself inside. “Fuck baby, you feel so good” he managed to get out. “I- ugh” you squeezed your eyes together not being able to form any words. “What’s wrong princess, not able to form words? Can’t think straight while you take me so well?” He whispers in your ear. His voice is deep and it’s not helping your case. “Best birthday ever” he thrust harder, grunting at his own words. “I’m- I’m close” that knot in your stomach from earlier was coming back. “Hold it in love” he says. He places his hand on your back and lifts you up. Your legs were now wrapped around his torso, and you were now over looking him. He flips over now you were on top and he was on the bed. “Listen to me. I want you to hold it in till I say you can release. Ride my dick baby, ride it till i say you can come undone” he says in between breaths looking up at you. He places his hands on your hips and you place yours on his chest for support. “Go on” he demands. You begin to rock your hips, your eyes falling back as he feels so good. “Fuck you’re doing so good” he praises. He helps your by guiding you with his hands. They feel so soft on your hips. You look down to see Joel looking like he is going to fall apart soon. “God you are so good at this, you are perfect. All of you. I wish you could see what I see from down here” you whimper as he continues to compliment you.

“I wish you could see the beautiful girl that I get to sleep next to every night” he continues to guide you with his hands “you don’t know how lucky I am” he grunts as you can feel him pulsing. “Joel. I’m- I’m so close” you bounce. “Me to baby” he moves himself up and wrapped his hand around your back. “Go ahead princess, come on my dick” with that you move your hips fast and faster. He then takes you and flips you over on your back as he slams into you more and more causing you to have your second orgasm. It doesn’t take long for him to follow right after you.

You both lay on the bed out of breath, he bring you to his chest and you can hear the beating of his chest against your ear. “Happy birthday my love” you manage to say while still trying to catch your breath. “I love you sweetheart” he kisses you.

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You and Joel ended up falling asleep for much longer than you thought. Joel’s phone was ringing which both caused you to burst up from your sleep and fumble around very confused. “Hello?” Joel said with his sleepy voice. “Your what?” He springs up. You throw on his t shirt and walk over to the dresser. In the mirror you can see Joel getting angry. “God damn it Tommy” you pause and turn around. “Yeah…okay…I’ll be there soon” he hangs up the phone and you walk back over to the bed. “Everything okay?” You look at him “uh sure, my brother is currently in Jail for a bar fight… I have to go pick him up from the jail. Can you wait for Sarah to get back and then I promise when I get home we can have family time” he grabs you by the waist and brings you in. “Of course. Be careful” you kiss him before he lets go to get dressed in different clothes.

When Sarah got home she put a movie on for you and here to watch to pass the time while you both waited for Joel. You picked up your little flip phone to see the clock reading 11:15 you set it back down then looked over to see Sarah passed out. You had started to doze off when you felt a sudden crash. You both flung up looking at each other confused as fuck. “Are you okay?” You asked. “Yeah what was that?” Her breathing stared picking up “I don’t know stay here” you quickly got up from the couch and unlocked the door. The way the sky was lit up with flames and smoke. Your eye widened and then you saw a truck whip into the driveway. You couldn’t tell where your mind should go to. Grab Sarah, stare at the fire that was off into the distance or the fact Tommy’s truck just flung into the drive way. “Sarah come here quick” she listened as you wrapped your arms around her “GET IN THE TRUCK” Joel yelled. Your eyes started to fill up with water as now you were panicking. “Listen to me Sarah. We are gonna get into Uncle Tommy’s truck okay don’t look up” she nodded as you both start to book it to the truck. Making your way you saw The older Mrs Adler start darting after you and Sarah. But before she could get to you Joel shot her and she dropped to the ground. Your hand went over Sarah’s ear so she couldn’t hear the suffering and screaming that went on. “Get in now! There’s no time” Joel ordered. You and Sarah jumped into the back not even buckling. “Alright if we the closet high way we can avoid down town” Tommy told Joel while we was driving fast out of the neighborhood. You looked back seeing the neighbor hood that 3 years ago you settled into was not on fire and to the home you and your family made your own now getting raided. You could also see incident people getting jumped by infected people. “Joel what the hell is going on!” A single tear feel from your eye. Joel turned back and grabbed both yours and Sarah’s hand. “Remember that virus that was on the news this morning. It broke out of down town and mades its way around the neighborhood.” You looked at Sarah who was curled up next to you shaking pile crazy. “FUCK!” Tommy yelled. “It’s blocked off!” He added. “Alright just take the field and see where we end up” Joel pointed to the field on the right side. You watch your whole life flash before your eyes. Hours on fire. People running for their lives. Cars bumper to bumper trying to get out the state. It was madness. After taking a short cut you all ended up in a small town. Building nearly to ashes and crowds of people trying to go to one place. “Oh my god” more tears started to fall down. “Both of you look down okay please” he didn’t let go of your hands. In fact he squeezed them a little tighter. “Dad!” Sarah yelled out. When he looked a crowd of people were running towards the truck. “Tommy reverse!” Joel demanded, and so Tommy did. But before we could get away a big plane came crashing down. Causing us to flip.

For a second you layed there but when reality started to hit you, you got up and saw Joel helping up an injured Sarah. “Sarah!” You cried out. “It’s okay I got you” Joel lifted her up. You looked around for Tommy who was on the other side of the burning car. “Go! I’ll catch up” he yelled. You looked at Joel who nodded to you. He lifted Sarah up and you and him started running out of the town. “Where do we go?!” You panicked. What is going on right now. He paused and looked around. You were following his orders. “This way” and so you followed. We ran through building and dogged the people who were infected, trying to put pressure on the wound that Sarah had. Once you made your ways through the buildings the 3 of you ended up in a field. Joel stopped to put Sarah down on the ground. “Okay this gonna hurt a lot but I need you to bear with me okay baby” he lifted her shirt to where the wound was. He then placed his hand on the wound to stop the bleeding. You lifted your head to see Tommy running towards you guys. More tears were falling as you waved your hand to signal you guys were over here. You returned your focus back over to Sarah. “Sarah you are doing great okay. Stay with us” Joel signaled for you to switch places. “Kim put pressure right here imma see what I can use to wrap it” you do just that. Tommy was scooping the area to see if any infected was around. “Stop right there!” A stern heavy voice shout at the four of you. With his flash light pointing at all of you. “My- my daughter- she’s hurt” Joel cried out. The army guy points a gun and looks closer at Sarah. “Non of you move” he steps a little closer. “Please…my daughter needs to have pressure on her wound” he cried out again. “I said don’t move!” The soldiers yells out again. “Please sir we arnt infected” you cry. For a second it goes quiet. He turns little to talk in his radio. All you can hear is the murmur of the radio and the sound of the whole town behind you falling apart. Joel lifts his daughter into his arms again while you still hold pressure waiting for a response. “Copy” you look at Joel. Who looks at you who then looks at Tommy. All of you have a confused look as your direct your attention back to the soldier. “Please…we arnt infected” Joel tries to tell him one last time. “I’m sorry” the soldier says. In that moment your mind turns off as you hear the sound of a gun fire. You flinch. It was like a whole second was taken off as you look over to see Joel crying out. “NO!” He says. Sarah’s doesn’t take his eyes off of Joel. “TOMMY HELP ME” Joel yells. He tries. Joel tries to cover up the wound. He really tries. “SARAH STAY WITH ME PLEASE BABYGIRL” he cries. “Sarah!” You cry out. “What the fuck is wrong with you dude! She isn’t infected!” Tears flung out. You all surround Sarah as you are trying to make this work. “Sarah stay with me” Joel rocks her back and forth. Then….she goes numb. “NO” he screams out “please please stay with me” there was no small tears coming from Joel anymore. He was full on sobbing. How could this happen? It was nothing to worry about…

Joel sat there rocking Sarah back and forth and crying…..and just like that…. Your whole lives have changed.

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Author: hi guys!!! I hope you enjoyed the story!! I’m sorry it’s so long and I’m sorry if some parts are screwed up. Please let me know on anything ❤️