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Hi! I just want to say that "a humans wrath" is a amazing story and I absolutely love reading it. I wouldn't mind even waiting a year because its truly worth it â€ïž
Aww thank you, youâre so sweet! (â„ïčâ„)
Iâm so glad youâre loving it so far! And no need to worry I try and update weekly so my readers donât have to wait to long.
Thank you for the support and I hope you continue to enjoy the story! âĄ
with love, rashomonss
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don't mean to reopen this can of worms. but cotg is better than twottg. i said the opposite months ago. but the more time progresses, the more my opinion changes. there are still aspects of the books that ttwottg does better than cotg does in my opinion. but overall. i would re-read cotg. and i can't say the same for twottg, unfortunately.
#but i just needed to say that#because the other post has haunted me for months#and that one ask i got of someone being incredibly rude got to me#whatever i'm human and things get to me sometimes lol (they indeed did not laugh out loudđ)#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo text post#pjo#the chalice of the gods#the wrath of the triple goddess#percy jackson#annabeth chase#grover underwood#percabeth#percabeth + grover#we stan grover just so you know#he is THE goat and i will fight u on that#love him so much but i digress
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Hey, I've seen your drawings from Neves. They are brilliant. I like her a lot, and are you writing fanfic about her?
Ahh thank you!!! That's really flattering fkljgfjf....It's always a pleasant surprise that people like Neves :'-) (and I love when I get an excuse to post my doodles of her and the Lamb lol)
I am in the works of trying to write a cotl fanfic abt this specific au (I call it The Apostate & The Martyr in my head lol), but writing doesn't come as easily as drawing to me SIGH. I've actually written quite a bit, but the problem is putting all these random excerpts together to make something coherent LOL. But yes, the fic is intended to be the story of The Lamb and Neves' friendship amidst the brutality and terror of the Lands of the Old Faith, how to deal with the consequences of their choices, and the mutual alienation they experience in their positions....as silly as that sounds lol. It's very self-indulgent! I just liked the concept of the "Outsider" POV, so to speak, being subjected to the sort of normalized violence that exists in cotl. Though, I might end up just making comics if I can't pan out this fanfic well enough!
#cult of the lamb#cult of the lamb fanart#cotl lamb#cotl oc#cotl au#my art#literally one person knows whats actually going on with these two outside of me LOL HGDLGDJK#but i eventually hope to actually progress with fic / comics about them and their dynamic#theyre like the madonna and child to me. if the madonna and child were a depressive + reckless human and a Lamb crushed under the weight of#their megalomania and desire to gain freedom by any means necessary#Neves is just like i love you little lamb youre soooo cute youre my calling my duty and i have to keep you safe from the Wrath of Nature#and the Lamb is like aww thats so sweet ! i AM the wrath of nature ! i love you too thanks for giving me an unattainable goal !!#the lamb also just likes to sit in fresh laundry. as a treat#alright now i'm off to deal with requests and messages and asks and such!! sorry i am so busy sob
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it probably is insane how much I wish I could express the thing about spones. the vibes about spones. Like there's the joking fun fandom vibes and I love them, I love to play with them, of course of course. but the THING. the CORE to me. i wish i could capture it and share it.
#like. the constancy. like the friction matters because it's hand in hand with the steadfastness you know? and it doesn't preclude tenderness#also climbing into the mind of the person you've been obsessed with understanding and being understood by.#and the fact that it's lifelong. and the teasing. and the fact that the growth is in the allowance of imperfections#allowing that imperfections exist in who you love allows you to love them allows you to love yourself#and i always love people knowing what you believe and bolstering it when you feel lost even when it's not their philosophy#(bones asking spock hope? isn't that a human failing? and him not allowing that#spock losing himself to emotion in all our yesterdays and bones reminding him how antithetical that is to him)#but even with all that seriousness - the TEASING. the plain fun. the constant reaching out regardless of their moods#the constant seeking each other out. the almost - given nature of the relationship.#it's not in some ways as dramatic as a Simple Feeling as the When I Think of You I Feel Shame.#it's bones growing into old age the human way one day at a time with spock#when people are like oh spock just put his katra in him because he was there - yeah. and he was always going to be the one who was there#this is why the earth moon sun metaphor works for the triumvirate so much better than sun moon stars imo#bones is the earth spock is the moon kirk is the sun#'the captain was indispensable'#the sun - a distant lifegiver to them and many others. they do revolve around it. have unique relationships to it#the earth revolutes the sun which brings it life. the moon has a face it only shows the sun#and the moon revolutes the earth. their gravity shapes each other. they reach out to each other. they formed in a collision outward#in some ways are entirely different but have the same stuff in them. spin the same.#idk it just makes so much sense for them all.#but even just getting back to them. again just the obsession with each others mind.#'i will never understand the medical mind' 'mathematically perfect brainwaves'#and then complimenting each other always so startlingly out of the blue with their own fields -#'you have a good bedside manner spock' 'perhaps if they had your ingenuity they would have'#the seeking each other's advice out even if it's just to argue with it lmao. the motif of their last words always going to each other#even wrath of khan - we know spock was talking to bones in his head. i do always wonder what was in their tsfs reunion scene#that shatner didn't want to happen.#I don't know and even this isn't the heart of it.#there's the families and the way they fit into each other's conception and value and weight of family#do i even tag this spones. this is just crazy rambling.
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I did a funneh lil doodle of thirteen year old henry from my not yet finished fanwork
#ttte henry#ttte#ttte humanized#tidmouth engine guild#ttte gijinka#ttte art#look he tiny#gordon just asked him if he's ever considered getting a haircut#now he shall face the indescribable wrath of the henry
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The King of Wrath would find a letter addressed to him, kept closed by the royal seal of the Violence Ring. Following a typical form of address, it reads as follows:
"I quite enjoyed our conversation following the tournament. I hope it proved as fruitful on your end as it did mine. However... it wasn't enough to truly sate my curiosity. As you might imagine, I make better observations in combat. I would like to see you in action. So, if you have a moment to spare for it, I'd like to fight you myself.
I eagerly await your response,
His Royal Highness, Prince James Carvillius of Violence"
â A follow up letter after such a high profile interaction was not so unusual, so when the servant imp began to read him the formal words of the previously visiting prince, he was absently multitasking something on his desk.
But then they get about halfway through, and the imp cannot help but slow down to a near freeze as they glance up at the sudden sight of the king beginning to prowl up the arms of his chair and crouch as if about to pounce, staring intently. " KEEP READING... " He growls impossibly deep.
And as they finish, the king jumps them, pinning them to the ground, though he simply muses at them, half to himself. " They are... challenging me! " The king guffaws. So nonchalantly? This must be the way of the Violence layer... he is extremely amused. " -- Spare a moment? A mere moment? That is either obscene arrogance... or self deprecation. " Do they not know he has never once lost a fight? That is-- not sense the very first this very world ever had. The imp beneath begins to try to agree but they're promptly interrupted with a growl as he continues, seething with irritation. Why the offer was stirring him so much more than any other, still unsure to him.
" OF COURSE... I must not EVER refuse a challenge, I cannot even stand the thought... " Not a good one like this, especially. With this burning in his veins it feels as though he could not refuse a fight with the tournament winning prince if he tried... " Forget the parchment! Leave me! I shall respond by my own hands... "
Our conversation was fruitful to me indeed, but alas, you are quite correct. Mere words shalt not compare to the oncoming clarity your temerity hath now wrought. Your challenge is accepted. I shall face you upon your own land. Be assured, in respect, I shall clear an entire day for our contest. If you wish to observe me, I shall only show to you as much of me that you can endure. Until we meet again, His Embodiment of Wrath, King Gabriel
The final 'L' on his name is flourished with such intensity is strikes off the page.
#lmao how to ask gabe on a date sdkghdskhgds#â â { inbox. } â°â°#â [ 1. ] â { đČđđđđđđ. } â°â° i.c.#do these eyes look human#â [ 1. ] â { đČđđđđđđ. } â°â° wrath / swap.
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can we get nameless' words on the xeroc allegations /silly
Nameless: Xeroc? The Almighty Traitor?
I can't even be a true god. I can only create, not destroy. I couldn't bring myself to kill my creations. . .
Hardly anyone knows I exist. I don't even have a name. . . . . .
And I am NOT DEAD.
We are not the same being.
Also, I do not spend much of my time with humans. So, may I kindly ask: what does /silly mean?
#terraria#humanized terraria#calamity mod#art#digital art#artists on tumblr#alterraria#wrath of the gods#xeroc#nameless deity#terraria calamity#anon ask#ask#I forgot nameless' flower crown#sorry
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tag drop ; isande.
( even scorched by fires of war ; i will fly on wings of my own making. ⧠ic. ) isande. ( gold as the rising sun ; she holds her shield aloft to greet the dawn. ⧠visage. ) isande. ( what good is any faith if in yourself you hold none ; be your own devotee. ⧠isms. ) isande. ( through shade & sleet-- through all winter's wrath ; the thistle maid blooms in xanntash. ⧠aesthetic. ) isande. ( born in the dark but her heart never beat ; not 'til light touched her face was she truly complete. ⧠lore. ) isande.
( a message to all the holy temples dedicated to me ; you all really make up any shit huh. ⧠crack. ) isande. ( do not follow me-- do not pray ; choose to walk alongside me and i will stay. ⧠game shenanigans. ) isande.
connections ;
( i'd trade all tales human & divine to turn back time ; for song in your smile & light in your eyes. ⧠isande & finnegan. ) passionfell. ( you seek no god & i never sought to be one ; not demanding or bestowing-- i am asking for a champion. ⧠isande & ankita. ) passionfell. ( you can't wield a sword for me-- i don't carry one ; pledge oath to you & let blind faith be gone. ⧠isande & alwin. ) risingretribution.
#( even scorched by fires of war ; i will fly on wings of my own making. ⧠ic. ) isande.#( gold as the rising sun ; she holds her shield aloft to greet the dawn. ⧠visage. ) isande.#( what good is any faith if in yourself you hold none ; be your own devotee. ⧠isms. ) isande.#( through shade & sleet-- through all winter's wrath ; the thistle maid blooms in xanntash. ⧠aesthetic. ) isande.#( born in the dark but her heart never beat ; not 'til light touched her face was she truly complete. ⧠lore. ) isande.#( a message to all the holy temples dedicated to me ; you all really make up any shit huh. ⧠crack. ) isande.#( do not follow me-- do not pray ; choose to walk alongside me and i will stay. ⧠game shenanigans. ) isande.#( i'd trade all tales human & divine to turn back time ; for song in your smile & light in your eyes. ⧠isande & finnegan. ) passionfell.#( you seek no god & i never sought to be one ; not demanding or bestowing-- i am asking for a champion. ⧠isande & ankita. ) passionfell.#( you can't wield a sword for me-- i don't carry one ; pledge oath to you & let blind faith be gone. ⧠isande & alwin. ) risingretribution.
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The crossover I didnât know I needed
Make me a promise here tonight, love like a tidal wave Dreamless in early graves, I never want it to be this way. The chemicals will bring you home again.
#star trek#star trek tos#wrath of khan#pierce the veil#Iâm a normal well-adjusted human#why would you ask#spirk
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A Harsh Night at the Mercy of the Wind đąđ
Yesterday was a difficult day for my family and children⊠Fierce winds swept through our fragile tentâthe only shelter we had, offering us a semblance of security. But it could not withstand the wrath of nature. I sat watching my children huddle together, their little eyes filled with fear, and my heart ached because all I could offer them was patience and prayers.
I donât know when we will receive a new tent or perhaps caravans that can provide us with a minimum level of dignity. We are not asking for muchâjust a roof to shield our children from the cold and rain, walls that give us a little privacy, and a glimmer of hope.
To everyone reading these words, we are here⊠trying to endure, trying to stay strong. But we need someone to hear our voices, someone to extend a helping hand, someone who believes that every human being deserves a dignified life.
Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is (#334 )
#free palestine#free gaza#fundraiser#gaza strip#gaza#important#please help#signal boost#agatha all along
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Brighter Times

Pairing: Dark!Joel x Reader
Summary: Youâve always been Joelâs favorite. Always.
Warnings: 18+. NONCON. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Graphic depictions of nonconsensual sexual encounters, past and present. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced breeding. Allusions to disordered eating and depression. Age gap. Lima Syndrome (i.e., a reverse of Stockholm Syndrome, wherein a captor grows an attachment to their victim). Orgasm vis-Ă -vis nipple stimulation. Dacryphilia (brief).
Word count: 8.3k
You made him happy.
Few in your group fully understood the importance of keeping a man like Joel Miller content, but when you didnât do your part as expected, they sure as hell felt it.
When your wet cunt didnât wake him up first thing in the morning, or greet him within minutes of his return from a hunt or raid, all of them became the objects of his wrath. He got angry. Impatient. Cruel. Not that those sorts of things werenât already percolating beneath the surface of your leaderâs cold and callous exterior, but when you werenât fucking him punctually, the bad got much worse.
Which was why you didnât resist when he called on you all hours of the day. It didnât matter if you were mending clothes, preparing a meal, feeding the livestock, tending the garden, washing heaps and heaps of bloodstained whatever-the-fucks needed cleaning after the latest, most violent incursion the group had madeâJoel took precedence. He always did. His dick was as tyrannical and repulsive as the man it served, and that man didnât like to wait. For the sake of the group, you never let him.
âWhy does she get to stop after just one bucket?â
That came from the same sniveling cunt it always did.
You were picking berries. Your knees groaned and ached from having been plastered to the forest floor a grueling hour and a half last night, getting nailed from behind. One of Joelâs men had died that day. Evidently, it was as much your problem as it was his. Now, it hurt to stand.
It also hurt you to sit, so you were currently propped up against a tree and relishing the momentary respite while the rest of your company went scouring for blueberries.
The woman who led your groupâthe only other person who knew about your little âarrangementâ with Joel, and saw you wincing as you walked to the fields that morningâshot the younger girl a look. She murmured something about it being none of her goddamn business what you did or didnât do, just mind your own, and silently, you thanked her. You didnât chance a smile, knowing how much worse the accusations of favoritism would get, but you squared your shoulders. You cast a look around.
And then, as if on cue, the second most dreadful voice you couldâve heard that morning shouted your name from somewhere behind you. You turned, frowning.
âYeah, Tommy?â you yelled back.
Yards away, the younger Miller brother waved you over.
âCâmere. Joel needs you back at camp, sweetheart.â
As soft, kind, and saccharine as the words seemed reaching your ears, their sound produced the opposite effect. Every head turned to you, and several snickers ensued. Others scowled or rolled their eyes. Meanwhile, your legs felt as heavy as lead trudging that way, and your gut clenched. Why did he have to do this now?
Surely Joel couldâve picked a less conspicuous time.
Was he trying to humiliate you? Let it be known that you were his own human fleshlight, to be used on any urge?
Well, that was kind of what you were. Still, this sucked.
And you were startled again when next Tommy yelled:
âBring Rachel with you!â
Rachel. The same bitch who berated you relentlessly for getting âfree passesâ during work and made you feel like shit about yourself every hour of every day? That Rachel?
If Joel was asking for a threesome youâd personally kick his teeth through the roof of his mouth. What an asshole.
To your dismay, Rachel was already trotting beside you.
Smiling.
âMust be my lucky day. I get to fuck off and do nothââ
âShut up.â
Your new companionâs grin only grew. She leaned closer.
âYou think Joelâs gonna ask me to suck his big, fatââ
THWACK.
Admittedly, self-control was never your métier. You smacked her across the face and kept plodding on.
Luckily, the hit was quick, and Tommy didnât see.
Your voice lowered to a hiss as you drew closer:
âBe my fucking guest. Fuck his geriatric brains out for all I careâit ainât all the fun you seem to think it is. It sucks.â
And that was the truth. You detested Joel. Every other day was like a waking nightmare with just the Cordyceps shit alone, but having to fuck a creep three times your age? Go right ahead, Rachel. Take him off my hands.
You just hoped Joel would leave you out if she did.
All heâd needed you and Rachel for was mending a fence.
A fence.
Half the camp was gone for the dayâeither out in the fields or doing recon in a nearby townâand that had meant Joel had had some extra slots left open on perimeter duty. Heâd just needed two warm bodies to carry boards over to fix a gap that was left in the thing.
And you felt fucking stupid for being singled out in front of everyone else, all of whom assumed that you and Rachel were sent back to camp to âserviceâ Joel.
The fucking twat.
Youâd left as soon as the job was done. You hadnât bothered going back to scavenge for food or have another little tĂȘte-Ă -tĂȘte with your best friend Rachel. Youâd gone home and stayed home, where you remained all afternoon in a half-enraged stupor. Your knees ached.
Your head throbbed, too, when, after supper came and went and you hadnât been able to bring yourself to go, your stomach was empty. You realized you hadnât eaten since the night before, when Joel had abruptly dragged you out of the canteen for your brutal forest rendezvous. Though the idea of a meal sounded revolting to you, you knew you needed to eat. You just wished it didnât have to end with your knees bleeding and your back smeared with cum. You rolled onto your side in bed and sighed.
And just when you contemplated closing your eyes and trying to sleep, you heard a knock on your front door.
It was quick and soft.
Probably the kind older woman from your group. She sometimes dropped food off at your place if she noticed youâd been missing from a meal. Slowly, you sat up.
âIâm fine tonight, Cleo!â you called out weakly.
Your belly ached and your head swam with nausea and pain, but right now, the last thing you needed was human interaction. Especially the courteous kind.
The knocks sounded again.
âCleo, really, Iâm alright.â
You felt a bit like shit for treating the one and only friend youâd come to make in months like this, but something in your head just wouldnât allow for pleasantries. You stared blankly at the door from where you lay in bed.
When several seconds passed and the knocking ceased, you started to close your eyes again, softly and slowly.
And jerked them right back open again when the front door to your home went crashing back on its hinges.
The lock was snapped. The wood bent in with a kick.
You shot up in bed to see Joel Miller barrel through the threshold, arms bulging and broad and bracing themselves hard against the wood that gave way beneath his force. One bicep bled through his sleeve.
âJoel!â You instinctively flinched back where you sat.
You cast a look around yourself to make sure you hadnât left out any contrabandâwhether that was magazines, books, or even food your leader didnât want you eating outside of the dining hallâand your pulse quickened. It spiked when Joel thrust himself into your bedroom next.
You expected him to speak. He didnât.
You expected him to claw at your body first thing. He did.
Seeing greedy hands outstretched and moving fast on your thin, pale dress, you had only to yelp a weak protestâïżœïżœJoel, please, please, noââand swat helplessly at him. He shoved you off. Ignored your pleas. Didnât blink twice when your face screwed up in pain at the first pull on your hair. In fact, his grip only tightened. He yanked your face up to greet his own in the dim glow of your room.
âJoel, I donât wanna,â you whimpered like a beggar.
Joelâs hand made a fist.
âDonât wanna what?â
WellâŠhave sex.
You couldnât say the words aloud, but your eyes were silently welling with tears. Your two hands pawed at his forearm and tried to pry it away, but Joel kept holding.
âDonât wanna what?â he growled.
He glowered down at you. The man wanted a reply.
Slowly, you got your lips to work: âDonât wannaâŠdo it.â
You had no idea why you were afraid to say the word âsexâ around him, but your throat was tightening, and the moisture in your eyes had begun to slide down your face. You met Joelâs gaze with another watery, pleading look.
âBy âitâ do you mean âeatâ?â he scoffed. ââCause I donât recall seeinâ you in attendance at dinner, sweetheart.â
Your stomach involuntarily clenched.
Your grip loosened from his arm.
Joelâs only constricted. He tilted your head to keep your eyes locked on him. And then he thumbed at your skull.
âWhat? Cat got your tongue tonight?â he sneered.
Seconds had passed and you still hadnât spoken.
Your throat was thick with discomfort, but somehow, you managed to muster up the courage to respond quietly:
âI just couldnâtâŠmove much today. Iâm still sore, Joel.â
And when you blinked, a new barrage of tears fell.
Frankly, you half-expected your leader to slap you across the face. No bitchinâ about a sore, achy cunt, yâhear me? Your body was made for it. But instead, the hand that ordinarily doled out punishment for whining took to stroking your cheek while the other held your hair.
Joel nearly looked sympathetic to your plight.
Then he cupped your chin. Lifted it to him.
âWas I too rough on you last night, hm?â
You nodded slowly.
For some reason, seeing him appear kind and contrite made your stomach turn worse than if heâd just hit you. You winced when his thumb stroked your bottom lip.
Then he loosened his grip from your hair and your chin and he dropped down beside you in bed. He sat back.
Joel straightened against the headboard and regarded you with an inscrutable look. You couldnât tell if he was pitying you or preparing for the roughest fuck of his life.
Maybe both.
You sniffled and wiped at your nose.
âI-I know you like what you do to meâand how good it makes you feelâbut my body ainât made of rubber, Joel. I canât justâŠgo back to normal after youâŠyou do thoseâŠâ
Without your permission, your face screwed up again.
Fuck, were you about to start full-on sobbing?
No, no you were not.
You forced your gaze to the ceiling and started blinking.
And before you knew it or could attempt to get him to stop, Joel leaned in closer to you. He brushed a knuckle against your cheek, which sharply turned from his touch.
âHey,â he started, low. You expected him to strike you.
Then the words came out even more softly than the first:
ââSâalright. I know it hurts. I know youâre still hurtinâ.â
Almost as quickly as youâd turned from him, your head cocked back. You couldnât believe that tone of voice.
Joel had never spoken so gently to you in your life.
It wasnât like he was incapable of it. The man had a dog, and every so often, you heard him talk sweet to the little wiry-haired mutt. Câmere, sugar, thatâs it. You like those little scratches jusâ behind your ear, donât ya, Daisy girl?
It sounded pathetic, but there had been a time when you wished Joel would speak to you that way. At least with the dignity he gave a dogâwhy didnât you deserve it?
Presently, your eyes were fixed on his. You frowned.
âWhat? Yâthink Iâm some kinda monster who canât tell when somebodyâs a little wore-out? Câmere, kiddo.â
Câmere.
Well, at least you got the same treatment as Daisy.
It wasnât regularly in your best interest to be drawing anywhere close to Joel Miller, so your body stayed planted where it was on the other side of the bed. You grimaced only a little when you felt his hand close around your wrist and tug you over to where he sat.
His shirt smelled of blood and something woodsy.
Both made you want to recoil, but Joel held tight.
âNow donât go squirminâ away. Hey.â He shook you once, when youâd unconsciously jerked back from his grip, and your body froze in place. You knew that hold well, and how tight and unforgiving it could get. You didnât move.
âThatâs better,â Joel hummed. âNow, on your side.â
The order made your skin bristle, but you followed it.
Joel smiled and proceeded to lie down next to you.
That big, broad, bleeding arm youâd seen before was shortly enveloping your frame, dragging your back to press up against his front, and then snaking around your waist. Joel held you to him so that his face could rest comfortably behind your shoulder. You tensed up.
This was how it started.
Joel behind you, holding you tight so that you couldnât escape. In no time at all, heâd be unzipping the fly on his jeans, unbuckling his belt, and then pressing his palm flat across the side of your face, telling you to stay still, or Iâll make sure you regret it. You didnât often get a warning before Joel pushed inside. There had never once been a time when heâd asked if it would be OK to do it.
You didnât expect tonight to be any different.
In an effort to ease his passage and save yourself any more pain than was absolutely necessary, you closed your eyes and tried to think about pleasanter things.
Like plush, stubbled lips brushing up the column of your neck. Hands kneading the flesh around your hips in a comforting way. Eyes trailing lightlyâappreciativelyâover your body as youâd always thought a lover might do.
It wasnât like you were craving romance, per se. Hell, the concept of it half-scared you to death, with the thought of someone else touching your body and cherishing it and not wanting to use it merely as a means to an end seemed like something out of a fairytale book at this point in your life. Youâd accepted that love would never touch you personally; these fantasies that played on repeat in your mind were little more than a vestige of a world no longer in existence. There was nothing wrong indulging when faced with a thing as awful and raw asâ
âHey.â
Joel shook you again.
Your chin jerked back to him, and you blinked.
âY-Yeah?â
Over your shoulder, Joel stared back at you.
âYou need a minute?â
You blinked again. You couldnât hope to control the look of pure bewilderment that was painting your expression.
âWhat?â
âDo youâŠneed a minute? Yâknow, to stop theâŠhurtinâ.â
Joel had never stopped to consider your pain in all the years youâd known him. Not on a raid, not out in the fields, not on a âjobâ you both knew you hated, like cramming his dick in your mouth or any other place he deemed appropriate. Heâd regarded your feelings as something ancillary, always. Even as youâd sobbed in his arms before, his choices invariably, inevitably defaulted to him. Without fail. Why he was acting any differently now was beyond you. You sat back, fully dumbstruck.
âWhat?â you asked him again.
Behind you, Joel just smiled.
He trailed his touch up the side of your body as if it were the most normal thing to do in the world, and he stopped when it reached the crook of your neck. He brushed his knuckles against your pulse point, then stroked it more.
âTell me where it hurts.â
Your mouth was dry. Somehow, you managed to indicate with your fingers and a murmur that it hurt rightâŠhere.
Just below where his own hand had strayed, there was a bite mark on your collar bone where Joel had sank his teeth into flesh the night before. The wound was bright red and throbbing, reminding you every hour how wholly he controlled your body. Your frock bared the sight for everyone in camp to see, including the man himself.
Joel leaned down and kissed it.
Where canines had once punctured skin and pulled back to flash you a smug, conceited grin, beaming at the way they had marked you up, Joelâs lips only soothed it now.
He caressed the little lesions on your skin and drew back.
âWhere else?â he asked.
Still, your mind was too discombobulated to form a single coherent sentence, so you pointed instead.
With a slow, shaky hand, you gestured to your legs.
Joel peered down after it, down the mattress.
âBanged your knees up pretty bad, huh?â
âY-Yes.â
In your mind, you sounded pathetic. Yes, these poor little legs had to hold yourself up in doggystyle last night after Joel had decided to fuck a dayâs worth of frustration into your cunt. That was the norm.
And this was where Joel would slide down the bed to grip your thighs, hold them tightly, and press his lips to all the cuts and bruises on your kneecaps, apparently.
You watched it all unfold with a harrowing sense of awe.
Heâd never touched you there. Heâd never kissed you there. Joel Miller had never so much as held your hand unless it had been to drag you someplace dark and isolated, and now he was petting your injured legs?
Out of habit, you jerked back from that touch.
You clambered quickly, gracelessly up the bed into a kind of half-sitting position, and with your eyes wide and fixed on his, you managed the first words in what felt like ages:
âWhat are you doing, Joel?â
The man whoâd just kissed your neck and your kneecaps planted a hand on the bed. He slid closer to you, no doubt seeing a fear seize your features as he did.
He placed that palm on your thigh. He squeezed it lightly.
âIâm tryinâ to be nice. Helpful anâ all that.â
You didnât know what that meant.
You were so stunned by his words and actions that you scarcely even felt it yourself when fingers tapped skin.
Joel drummed a gentle beat, posing a new question.
âWhere else does it hurt?â
âItâŠitâŠâ
You shook your head. Blinked through your present daze.
âShow me where it hurts. Use your hands,â Joel said.
So you did.
Gingerly, wordlessly, you drew your hand to your tummy. You placed a palm over your middle and felt pretty silly.
It hurts inside.
You didnât give me a chance to prepare last night, and now every inch where you invaded feels like itâs on fire.
You wished you had the strength to tell him it hurt. That you hated him for it and wished he were dead most days. Instead, when Joel placed his hand over yours and searched your eyes with a soft, tender look in his, you felt tears spring up again. You shook your head, wincing.
âIt hurt here, too?â Joel nearly whispered.
Now you nodded your head. Yes, it hurts.
And Joel stroked it gently. Delicately.
He lowered his scarred, stubbled face to yours, and in yet another act that would leave you shocked for hours, he kissed your cheek. He continued to rub your stomach.
Meanwhile, it felt like your gut plummeted to the floor.
Done jumping away for the time being, though, you tilted your head to him. You opened your mouth to either speak or suck in a breath, and suddenly that, too, was invaded by his mouth. Joel kissed you on the lips.
It was so soft you didnât think to stop him.
The man had forced your mouth to his plenty of times before, but never had it felt like thisâfeatherlight, gentle.
The kiss was as calming as it was disconcerting. Joelâs lips worked expertly over your own, which were limp and unmoving, and a hand cupped your cheek. You didnât close your eyes, even when his tongue traced the seam of your lips. This was how the lovers in your dreams always kissed. But Joel was no lover; this was odd.
âWanna lay back?â he asked after pulling away.
You didnât. But you did it anyway.
With Joel following your descent to the bed, slotting overtop your body in the fashion of a man about to mount, you thought surely it would happen now.
He would fuck you, whether you liked it or not.
Those kisses had been but a sickening prelude to something much worse, something more violent than you could likely even imagine. You closed your eyes.
Joel slid between your legs.
He pressed his hips to yours.
His breaths fanned over your face in a familiar and menacing way, and his expression was probably cruel.
He kissed you again.
This time, you couldnât help but jump. He was using tongue, gently. Working the muscle in your mouth like he wanted you to enjoy the feel and savor the taste of him.
Youâd been fucked against your will many times. You had no idea how to tongue-kiss someone and make it good.
You whimpered into Joelâs mouth, and as if sensing your thoughts, he drew back. He peered down, smiling faintly.
âIs this OK?â
A beat.
âIâ I guess.â
Joel fully grinned at that, teeth gleaming in the lamplight. He pecked your lips again, softly, and you could feel a chuckle rumble through his chest as he did.
âYou are too precious, yâknow that?â he said.
You sat in silence while he leaned back to lift the hem of your dress. Again, you thought he would be undoing his belt and the zip on his jeans and then shoving his cock inside you in the next moment. That was usually how it went. But for what felt like the hundredth time that night, you were surprised to find that he wasnât pursuing that route at all. He was simply raising your dress above your belly so that he could rub the tender skin that was there.
He pressed a palm to your tummy, and it had an alarmingly calming, warming effect. Your muscles eased under his touch. Though your chest rose and fell in quick, uneven breaths at the prospect of what was to come next, your lower half was tranquil. The pain ebbed away.
Your gaze flickered to Joelâs face, and you found he was already watching you intently. He tipped his chin down.
âFeel any better?â
You waited. You watched him back.
After a second, you nodded your head.
And that wasnât a lie. His hand smoothing circles over your stomach had made the ache from last night drain out of you, it seemed. You couldnât believe it. Slowly, a pleased smile worked its way onto Joelâs face, and he was rubbing circles even gentler than he had before. He kissed your forehead, and something stirred inside you.
You ignored it.
You blinked, and suddenly, Joel was lifting your hemline higher with his other hand. Up your belly, your ribs, andâ
âHey.â That came out as more of a squeak than a plea.
Joelâs smile didnât flinch. He dragged the fabric past your chest, baring your breasts to the open air, and strangely, his gaze never left your face. You shot a look down in embarrassment, wanting him to pull it back into place, but you didnât dare take hold of the hem yourself. You just sat back in muted discomfort, wanting to move.
ââSâokay. Theyâre just more body parts, kiddo. Ainât nothinâ wrong with showinâ âem off when Iâm here.â
They were nothing he hadnât seen before, either.
You squirmed in place and pursed your lips.
And, though you wanted his gentle ministrations on your stomach to continue, this kind of development made you antsy. Achy. You couldnât quite explain the medley of strange emotions that came from being bare around a man like Joel, in a context like this, but you were almost positive you didnât like it. You peered up at him, pleading.
âWhatâs the problem? I just wanna help,â Joel replied.
And, before you could shoot another look his way or turn from him, curling away, he did something unexpected.
He leaned down and, just like heâd done with his mouth working yours, he pressed a kiss to one of your breasts.
He didnât budge, even when you did.
Even when you jumpedâplainly frightened of that new, wet feeling latching onto your nippleâJoel rooted himself in place and didnât stray an inch from where he was. He sucked on that stiff, hardened peak with all the assuredness he had mowing down herds and herds of infected in the woods outside your community, and it didnât seem to register at all with him that you were uncomfortable. He simply licked and sucked and kissed.
The ache in your belly got bigger, but not with any pain.
Joel sucked your nipple into your mouth, and you felt itâtrembling pleasure. The kind you fantasized about when the man was otherwise draining the sensation from your body with every brutal stab of his hips. At last, it was a thing for you to feel, and not just dream about. The shock hit so hard you had to grip something behind you.
Your pillow.
That was fine.
You sucked in a breath that sounded a bit more like a gasp than a normal inhale, and you clasped on harder.
âJoel,â you mewled.
Joel lifted his head.
âWhatâs wrong? Did that hurt?â
Your wide eyes met him, bewildered.
âIâŠâ
You swallowed, so wholly unacquainted with the feeling you didnât know what to say. It wasnât painful, just a bitâŠ
âStrange, huh?â Joel grinned.
The hand that rubbed your stomach moved to your side to tickle it lightly. You jerked again, and the grin grew.
His mouth lowered back to your breastsâthe other one, nowâand his eyes never left yours once while he did. He kissed your nipple like heâd done to the first. You saw his tongue dart out past cracked lips, under a sea of mostly grey facial hairs, and he licked that hardened nub. He smeared saliva all over the flushed little thing, and you shouldâve been disgusted by how much spit spread down your skin, but you couldnât quite bring yourself to hate it. The feelings his actions roused were pleasurable.
You blinked and let out a ragged breath.
You drew another into your lungs, and your chest shook.
Joel couldnât have looked more enamored if he tried.
âDoes that make the hurt go away? Make you feel a littleâŠwarm and tingly inside?â he asked you delicately.
âFeelsâŠyeah.â Youâd lost the power to think again.
Youâd lost the powers of basic human cognition, and all you wanted was for his lips and tongue to caress your nipples. This man that you hated made you feel something good. You didnât have words for it.
âHas anyone ever done this to you before?â
Right as he asked it, Joel returned to where heâd been and dragged his mouth over one peak. He sucked it in between his lips, then released it with a loud, wet pop.
You couldnât help it; you whimpered.
You let out a shrill, soft whine like this was the single best thing youâd ever felt, and Joel Miller was the cause of it.
He did it again.
And again.
And he reached up to tweak your other nipple between his forefinger and thumb at the same time, and that was when you felt it: a hot coil. A tightening knot. You sighed.
Your chin jerked down to your chest to see the chaos for yourself, and you found Joel grinning back up at you.
âHas anyone ever done this to you?â he reiterated.
âNo.â
You shook your head. You wanted more.
You needed more of his mouth, more of this feeling, and you hated feeling beholden to anyone else, but a pleasure like this felt like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to a girl like you, and you had no idea when the next time Joel would ever be this nice, so you asked.
âCanâ can you do it again?â
Joel obliged you without another word.
He took sweet, pebbled flesh between his teeth and tugged it. Pinched your nipple with his fingers and twisted. Licked you repeatedly, drenched you with his spit, and somehow, you loved every filthy second of it.
You ground your heels into the bed. The own noises bubbling out of your throat were growing louder, and Joelâs suckling sounds, too, were picking up volume as he worked his mouth quicker and harder and greedier than he had before. The wrinkles and the greys on his face showed his age with every breath he tookâmade this whole encounter feel that much more depravedâbut how he took you between his lips made him seem years younger. Ebullient and spry and keen in how he did it.
That old, strange something in your tummy was growing. You were hardly aware of what it meant, much less able to control how it spread. It swelled inside you, and all you knew was that you wanted it to keep billowing, keep rising, keep numbing the pain inside you, and save you from the harsh, cruel reality of the hand youâd been dealt in sex to date. You wanted to get to feel good, for once.
Joel drew your nipple in his mouth one last time for a thick, wet brush from the tip of his tongue, and that was when the knot in your stomach snapped. You cried out loud, eyes almost crossing from the sheer pleasure that was coursing through your body andâshit, was this what Joel got to feel every time he pushed himself in you?âyour toes curled. Your eyes closed. Your back promptly arched off the bed, pushing your chest even more into him, and the man clearly didnât mind in the slightest. He continued to lap at your taut, sensitive flesh while he pinched at the other, and something like a groan thrummed through his chest. You could feel it.
When your eyes opened again, they landed on his face.
Joelâs was upturned, addressing you with a beaming sort of look while he hovered no more than an inch or so over your breasts and panted like heâd just sprinted a mile.
âDid you justâŠorgasm?â he asked, half-breathless.
You werenât totally sure what that wasâhad never experienced one yourself, so you couldnât say with certainty if that was what it had been. You stared back.
âI donât know.â
You swallowed, hoping that wouldnât make him angry.
On the contrary, Joel swept you into his arms a moment later. He held you tight to his chest, your breasts pressing to his white, soiled shirt and briefly commingling with the blood spattered there.
You tensed out of habit. Then you eased just a bit.
He was hugging you. Crawling up your body in bed and laying you back in the sheets, where youâd so kindly just showed a climax Joel almost certainly wasnât expecting.
He kissed your neck. Your cheeks. Your lips. He overcrowded your space, but your head was so busy with all the bright, fuzzy feelings of release that you didnât have the sense to notice. Dimly, you heard the clink of a belt, but in your near-anoetic state, it didnât fully register.
That was what it was supposed to feel like.
No crying, no begging, no pleading for your life.
Just bliss, swollen to the limit and flooding your system.
You wanted to do it again. Maybe not with Joel, but just a man who put your pleasure first. The one you always pictured in your fantasies could be a reality, someday. Heâd probably be a little closer to you in age, maybe learning these things for the first time like you. You could experience it together; you wouldnât have to remain the way you were under Joelâs thumb if you just branched out a bit. Talked to people who werenât him. The sudden influx of dopamine and oxytocin had your head humming with new ideas, and you knew it was likely too soon to start planning a way away from Joel, but just maybeâ
âThat was the best thing I ever seen,â he said presently.
You snapped back into the moment and saw Joel hovering over your frame: hips bracketed by your legs and arms bracing themselves on either side of your head on the pillow. His jeans and boxers were shoved down his thighs, just far enough to let his cock spring free of its confines, and currently, the round, leaking head of the thing was gliding up and down your slit. You shuddered.
âWhatâ what was the best thing?â You needed to stall.
Joel brightened above you, like he was charmed by the tone of voice youâd used. He leaned in and kissed you.
You tried not to wince. You tried to look positive.
âYou. Cumminâ from just my tongue and fingers on your nipples. Sexiest sight I seen. I knew youâd come around.â
Joel grabbed the base of his dick and started lowering his hips to draw closer to your entrance. He bumped the ring of muscles with the tip, and you were stunned to hear a weak, but audible squelch from where he met you.
You couldnât see it now, but you could feel the insides of your legs soaked through with your arousal. It dripped like nectar from your cunt and gave Joel the perfect opportunity to slick himself up with your wetness.
The old man rolled his hips and nudged you again.
âItâs gonna be so much better from now on,â he went on. âTommy was rightâa little sweet talkinâ, nipple tweakinâ before a man gets to stick it to his woman and sheâll make it real easy by gettinâ wet. Even better if she cums.â
Your stomach turned at those words: his woman.
You didnât want to do this with Joel again, at least not in the way heâd just made you climax. That felt intimate, and completely wrong for the dynamic you two had developed. As you slowly made the descent from replete pleasure to dread, you sensed something extra warm, leaking beads of precum at your still-wet entrance.
Joel planted an arm even closer beside you and nudged your nose with his own. His eyes were glossy and wide.
You knew a good man wouldnât be found behind them.
He sank the first inch of his cock within the embrace of your cunt, and the face above you twisted. Yours did, too.
His was out of pleasure. Yours was more like a life-sized, grating kind of agony for which you could not find a name. Your body ached with it, though you didnât dare to show it on your face. You sighed instead. You bit your lip.
And all the while, Joel was wedging his impossibly hard member inside you. Making way by force, but in a much less painful way than he had before. You were wet enough to give him a tolerably smooth entrance.
He filled every ridge and crevice of your most intimate place, and he heaved a groan at the gratifying sensation.
Joel always enjoyed sex with you.
Even at his lowest, with his eyes seeing nothing but red and likely viewing you as more sentient hole than human being, he always preferred the space between to your legs to anyplace else. As far as you knew, he had sex with no one else but you. Sometimes, you wondered why.
But tonight, you couldnât think for long when the tip of Joelâs cock kissed the edge of your cervix. For the first time in your life, it didnât hurt, and in fact felt pretty nice. You made a face to mask the pleasure, and his length buried itself even deeper. Joel groaned as you whined.
âThat feels good, donât it?â he murmured. His hips increased their pace, and suddenly, his thrusts were shaking you. Your bed frame clanged against the wall.
Out of sheer necessity, you had to wrap your arms around the back of Joelâs neck as he fucked you. You felt the weight of his balls slap your ass with every thrust he delivered, and your heels dug hard into his lower back. Slick sounds and stifled whines were all you could hear for several seconds, save for Joelâs breathing, which was loud and shallow. You detected a trace of bourbon on it.
âThat feels nice, havinâ your old man balls deep in this sweet, perfect cunt, huh? Tell me,â he said, tone dark.
You nodded once.
Your eyes pricked with moisture again, and this time, you couldnât tell with any degree of certainty which emotion it stemmed from. You felt vulnerable. Overwhelmed. Like you werenât in control of yourselfâwhich, physically, you werenâtâand you couldnât decide what words or sounds would come from you next. You held onto Joel tighter.
His cock plunged in and out at a dizzying pace. He didnât slow when he saw your tears, but they did beckon him in.
Joel cupped your face in a sly, patronizing way. Smiling.
âYouâre scared to feel good. Thatâs whatâs holdinâ ya back,â he said gently, as if it was the most obvious thing.
His thumb brushed your cheek just as he bottomed out, and your body convulsed. You cried some more, wanting to push him out completely, but the feeling was oddly stimulating, too. Joel went on to catch every tear that crawled down your face, and he wiped each one away. He got a half-crazed look in his eye, and he smiled again.
Then he stuck his thumb in his mouth and sucked.
He was fucking you, and he was tasting your tears.
Youâd never seen anything more disturbing in your life but were forced to hide your aversion as Joel continued.
âPussyâs all wet. Soakinâ me just like these pretty little tears. That must mean she likes me, darlinâ. She likes it.â
âBut Iââ you started, breath catching on a particularly hard thrust. ââIâm still hurtinâ. Youâ youâre hurtinâ me.â
Perhaps an appeal to his pathos would slow him down. Get him to stop, or at least quit eating your fucking tears.
Joelâs tongue would lick you occasionally when a fresh stream trickled down. He did it again, even while you writhed in pain. He grabbed your face, and he groaned when your walls clenched involuntarily around his length.
âItâs allâ all in your head, honey. You want this. Your cunt wouldnât be half as soaked as it is, and you wouldnât be cryinâ with pleasure if you didnât need it as badly as me. Youâre justâŠscared to feel good, is all it is. Let go of that.â
You couldnât believe what you were hearingâand were equally dismayed to find that your wet, achy cunt was making noises beneath Joelâs thrusts so obscene you wouldâve sobbed harder to know it was you who was making them. Slowly, sluggishly you pushed at his chest.
âI ainâtâ ainât scared, Joel. I donât like this,â you wailed.
âSure you are. You feel guilty about how good this feels.â
Well, maybe there was some truth toâ
âNo.â You shook your head. âI-I donât.â
âYou do.â
âI donââ
âIs that why you sent her over for me, sweetheart?â
You froze. Joelâs thrusts slowed down a little.
What was he talking about? Who was âsheâ?
As if reading your mind, Joel went on.
âRachel. You sent her, didnât you?â
You had no fucking clue what he was talking about. All you knew was that you loathed the girl and were trying your hardest not to succumb to the pleasure that was building with every second. Somehow, Joelâs gentler strokes made you throb and ache in the best way.
Your gaze flitted down to see his hips meeting yours relentlesslyâcock plunging in and out at a grating rhythm and making a mess of your shared fluids. Sweat coated your skin; the bed continued to creak and groan.
âR-Rachel?â you whimpered back.
Joelâs gaze narrowed at you.
âDonât act naĂŻve, honey.â
Suddenly, he was stopping completely to push your legs over his shoulders. Your limbs were limp and gave no resistance. Then he resumed his soft, steady thrusts.
Your pussy squeezed him even tighter at this angle, and Joel swore under his breath. You whined at feeling it, too.
âAfter you two helpedâŠfix that fence,â he grunted out, eyes focusing on yours. They were markedly more stern. âI was back home tendinâ to my arm. Rachel stopped by.â
You glanced to Joelâs bicep, which was bulging and still staining the sleeve of his shirt through the fabric. The red patch seemed to grow darker with every push of his hips, but maybe you were imagining things. Trying to distract yourself from the eyes that were boring into your skull.
âShe mustâve heard I got hurt last night. Or somebody told her,â Joel went on, unfazed. His cock kept drilling, rendering you immobile on the bed underneath him. âEither way, she made it real clearâŠreal fuckinâ quick that my injury wasnât the only thing that brought her there.â
Gradually, heat rose to your cheeks.
No way had Rachel done what you thought she did. What you told her sucked, and wasnât worth any of her time.
âShe seemed to think you were gettinâââ Joel paused to drive his cock in hard, hitting your sweet spot as he did. ââpreferential treatment of some kind, on account of what you do for me. She wanted the same treatment.â
Now your face was on fire.
That fucking idiot.
âW-What did you say?â you asked weakly. It wasnât even your curiosity that was piquedâit was genuine fear for what Joel mightâve done had he been of a mind to be offended by her offer. What he was liable to do if he thought you were behind it. You swallowed hard and had no choice but to ignore the growing coil in your stomach.
âI said what any man in my position wouldâve told her,â Joel sneered, and your feelings of trepidation only rose.
Against your will, the pleasure in your lower half stretched commensurate with your panic, and you found yourself trembling, teeth grinding together, and eyes itching to roll back in bliss and raw, unmitigated dread.
You werenât sure if this was preparation to cum or to cry. By the look on Joelâs face, it appeared he craved both.
He gripped your chin in one hand and brought his face right down to yours. His hips didnât withdraw again; he wedged his cock in deeper and deeper, until it felt as if something were ready to snap, and you cried out, shrill.
âJoel, please.â
âWanna know what I said?â
âY-Yes. And stop. Please, no deeper.â
His tip was hitting your cervix repeatedly. His knees were bracing themselves hard against the bed, like he couldnât get far enough inside your soft, lithe body and the mewling sounds you made were invitations to go further.
They werenât.
He knew they werenât.
Still, Joelâs grin was wide as he pinched your face in his hand and grit his teeth like he was proud. Listen to me.
âI told Rachel to get fucked, thatâs what,â he snarled. âBut not by me. I only fuck women Iâm in love with.â
Out of all the things he couldâve said, that was the worst.
Your face fell where he held it, and your eyes widened.
You wanted to shake your head, but his grip was tight.
âJoel.â At the same time, fear flooded you.
Nothing made sense like it shouldâve. Nothing felt right, and that was ignoring the fact that you were being forced to fuck a man you so thoroughly despised.
Joel was watching your expressions. Waiting for you to process what heâd said, and when he saw that you had, he assumed an even more brutal pace with his thrusts. He carved at your insides with his cock, pleased as ever.
âDidnât evenâŠrealize it until she approached me today,â he confessed, chuckling when he felt your walls clenchâand at the same time, more tears welled up beneath him.
You were going to cry again, except now you were also on the brink of climax. Split down his cock and whining.
âYou were made for me, sweetheart. No oneâs everâŠever gonna touch whatâs mine or get between me and you.â
Those words made you want to die.
Tears were spilling out, and you sobbed.
âYouâ you donât mean that, Joel,â you cried.
âBut I do, baby,â Joel teased. He pushed your legs even higher when he leaned down to kiss you, and you didnât miss the way he licked at your tear-streaked skin after. He was sick. Repulsive. Shameless in what he was doing. âIf someone like Rachel thinks she can drive a wedge between us, whoâs to say there ainât others who feel the same? Folks need to see who you fuckinâ belong to.â
With that, the man seemed to confirm your worst fear.
His gaze locked on yours, and he thumbed at your cheek one last time. Then he slid his touch down your body, to find your clit, and started rubbing mercilessly. Your hips bucked under his touch, throat working and begging him, hoarsely, stop touching me there, I donât like it.
In truth, that place was about to send you over the edge. You didnât like it; you loved it. You hated that you relished every second stretched over Joelâs length and how good it made you feel. You hated him. You hated him so much.
âI love you, honey,â Joel panted, lips grazing over yours.
One more push of his hips and your ankles were almost hovering by your ears. He had you folded in half for him.
And his circles on your clit werenât stopping anytime soon. He jerked himself in and out of you, again and again, a little sloppier now with how much focus he was placing on that tiny, pulsing bud. Your stomach clenched.
Your walls bore down, and it was clear you didnât have a say in the matter: you were tumbling toward climax again whether you liked it or not. Your whines turned to shrieks.
âIâ I-I donât love you, Joel,â you said through your teeth. âI fucking hate you. Youâll never meanâŠanything to me.â
Frankly, you didnât give a single fuck whether he beat you for it later. He was damn near making you say it.
And rather than bristle with rage, Joel only beamed.
âYou mean it, baby?â
Fucking psychopath.
You wouldâve reached up and clawed at his face in desperation had your own not been cupped in his hand next. Gently and affectionately, he drew it closer to him.
You mean it?
âWeâll see how you feel when youâre carrying my child.â
Your eyes went wide. Joelâs grin grew bigger.
No.
No.
No, no, no, no, NO.
You werenât thinking. You reared back and finally landed that taut, sharp blow across his face. The man didnât flinch, even as you reached out again and raked your nails into his cheekâyou fucking sick, sick bastard.
His skin bled. His lip split from where youâd hit him.
All the while, he kept that smile stretched wide.
He seemed to revel in your hatred, leaning in to tell you again: âFolks need to see who you fuckinâ belong to, hon.â
âAnd now they will,â he went on, tone taunting and low.
Joel made sure you felt him from then on. Ensured he shouldnât budge a single inch and you wouldnât either. Even as you grit your teeth, cursed him up and down, kept fighting tearsâand losingâhe wasnât letting you off.
He would be getting you off, though.
With one more kiss to your neck and a quick series of circuits with his thumb, you were coming apart beneath him. You couldnât help it. Every last nerve-ending in your body was shot, and you couldnât breathe without sobbing through tears of misery and pleasure.
Like most every other moment youâd endured that night, your climax was against your will. Your walls pulsed and spasmed, and the fast circles on your clit nearly sent your vision blurring from how indescribably good it felt. All the while, inside, you were cursing Joelâs name and hating him more than you ever had before. Your orgasm triggered his own, and you wished youâd never been bornâif this was how your life was to be spent, with the spray of a pervertâs seed painting your walls every night until you gave him a child, wellâŠyou would rather be dead.
Better yet, he should be dead.
The idea took root in your mind the second Joel had emptied the last spurt of warmth inside you and drew back with a crooked, sleepy grin. When he kissed you, and licked up the side of your face to collect whatever tears had trickled down since your orgasm had hit, the thought was cemented in your mind. Tired as you were yourself, you couldnât show this on your face or betray a shred more of your outright contempt, or determination, than you were feeling right now. You let him kiss you. Let him lick you wherever he pleased, tell you he loved you and knew you would love him too, one day, as much as you would love his baby. His cock rutted deeper inside you with a low and sickening squelch, and by the time heâd rolled away, youâd made it a promise to yourself.
Whether it was today, tomorrow, or ten years from nowâno matter how long it would takeâJoel Miller was dead.
And that made you happy.
#AWOOOOOOOOOOOGA#SICK FREAK ROLL CALL IDK đ€đ€đ€đ€đ€đ€#IF I HAD A NICKEL FOR EVERY TIME I WROTE A FORCED BR**DING FIC IâD HAVE TWO NICKELS#WHICH ISNâT A LOT BUT ITâS WEIRD THAT IT HAPPENED TWICE#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller tlou#the last of us fic
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Wifed up on a tuesday
Request: If you are still doing the tropevenia event, can you please write a fic with secret marriage prompt for Adrian Tepes x female reader. ( =Ï)
AN: get this dhampir a wife! Such a fun request
Genre: fluff + Secret Marriage
Pairing(s): Alucard x Wife Reader
Summary: "No one hurts my wife," he said, his voice steady and cold, without sparing a glance back.
"You have a wife?!" Sypha screamed, her voice echoing off the walls as Trevor stared blankly into the void, looking more lost than usual.
You winced at the shriek, gently setting her cup of coffee in front of her. "Nice to meet you," you offered with an awkward smile, unsure if she even heard you through her shock.
Next to you, Adrian cleared his throat, his golden eyes flickering away as a faint blush crept up his pale cheeks. "We have been betrothed for twenty years," he said evenly, though his voice wavered slightly. "It was... a matter of time."
That, of course, did not make things better.
Before you could fully process what happened next, a heavy pile of books toppled onto you, and the sharp sting of a whip lashed across your back.
"Not a curse then," Trevor murmured, standing over you with an expression that teetered between relief and annoyance. From the corner of your eye, you caught Adrian gawking, his face frozen in disbelief.
A bubbling shame welled up in your chest, hot and suffocating. You pushed yourself to your feet, glaring at Trevor. "Indeed, quite human," you snarled, and without hesitation, you swung your fist, landing a solid punch to the oafâs jaw.
"I am human," you continued, your voice sharp with fury. "At least in part. Adrian and I were betrothed by our parents. And we are now wed."
You could see the dread settling on Sypha's face, her expression torn between shock and dawning understanding. Then you turned your blazing eyes back to Trevor. "You're not welcome in my home. Sleep in the barn tonight."
Adrian's friend or not, no one struck you and got away with it. And if they dared, you made damn sure they understood the cost of their actions.
The silence that followed was tense, broken only by the sound of Trevor groaning from where he had staggered back.
Snapping out of his stupor, Adrian ignored Trevor completely and rushed to your side. His golden eyes scanned you, his hands hovering just shy of your back, as though afraid to touch and cause more harm. "Are you hurt, my love?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with worry.
You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could, Adrianâs power rippled through the room like a sudden gust of wind. With a sharp crack, a mighty blast of air sent Trevor flying backward, slamming the doors shut with an echoing thud.
"No one hurts my wife," he said, his voice steady and cold, without sparing a glance back. The message was loud and clear to Sypha, who stood frozen, staring at her husband lying in the rubble outside. "And anyone who wishes her harm shall bear my wrath."
In the quiet stillness of your room, Adrian carefully peels the fabric of your dress away from your back, his movements slow and deliberate, as if afraid to hurt you further. His golden eyes scan your unmarred skin, but the frown on his face only deepens.
"I should have stopped him," he mutters, his voice low and filled with guilt. "I was too late... I'm sorry. I just... I didnât expect it." He rambles, his words tangling together in frustration as his gaze flickers between your back and his own trembling hands.
"Does it hurt?" he asks, his voice achingly quiet, like the faintest whisper of wind.
He had failed again. To protect you. To care for you. Gods, he was lacking, and now he had allowed a Belmont, his own friend, to harm you.
His father, who burned the world for his mother, would never have allowed such a thing. Dracula had been many things, but in love, he was absolute. But Adrian knows he will never be his father, in both good and bad.
He will never be the husband you deserve.
But he is in love. Unforgiving love that clutches at his heart, that reminds him with every breath of all the ways he falls short.
His expression crumples, like paper crushed in a fist. Adrian, for all his power, for all his strength, is so terribly fragile when it comes to you.
âIt doesnât hurt,â you reassured him, turning to face him fully. Your hands rose to cup his face, tilting it gently so his eyes met yours. âYou know it canât hurt me. Trevor didnât strike to harm, only to dislodge potential glamor.â
You could see the mild complaint brewing on his lips. Adrian worried too much. Fretting, after all, was his favorite pastime. His brow furrowed deeply, no doubt already replaying every moment in his mind and finding a thousand ways to blame himself.
âYou did nothing wrong,â you said firmly, your thumbs stroking the sharp planes of his cheeks. âYou did the right thing. Tomorrow morning, your friend will apologize, and we will forgive him because he is your friend. And then, you will no longer hold this against him.â
Adrian opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off with a stern look.
âNope. Listen to me. Wife is right.â
His lips quirked upward, despite himself, and the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. His hands moved to rest on yours, cradling them against his face like a lifeline.
âYouâre always right,â he murmured softly, leaning into your touch.
âAnd donât you forget it,â you teased, smiling at him.
Adrian laughed, low and quiet, before pressing a kiss to your palm. âNever,â he promised.
Somehow, Adrian had found a wife. In the bleakest of times, when the world had turned its back on him, you had come to him. And now, you were here, standing in his castle, a presence that soothed even his most troubled thoughts.
When the next morning came, you were greeted by an unexpected sight.
A sizable tuft of brown hair lay at your feet, carefully placed by Sypha, who stood before you with her hands clasped. Outside, just beyond the castle doors, her husband knelt silently, his head bowed low in shame.
The tuft of hair. A Belmont tradition of repentance. An act of humiliation and an offering of guilt.
An act you had no use for.
Still, it would be of little use to ignore it.
"My husband is a dog," Sypha said with a weary sigh, though her tone softened with affection. "He lashes out carelessly. Please, forgive him." She bowed low, an act that clearly caused Adrian discomfort. His eyes flickered with unease as he watched his friends, who seemed more like chastised children than the bold warriors they usually were.
Gently stopping Sypha mid-bow, you reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Thereâs no need for apologies," you said, your voice calm but light with humor. Sparing the kneeling Belmont a glance, you gestured toward the tuft of hair at your feet. "Though I reckon this," you said, pointing to it with a raised brow, "shall make for a very interesting wedding present."
Syphaâs head snapped up, her lips parting in surprise before a laugh bubbled out of her. The tension in her shoulders eased, the corners of her mouth lifting into a grin.
With that simple jest, the air shifted, the weight of guilt and harshness lifting from the room. Grudges were set aside, and forgiveness settled in their place like the morning sun breaking through heavy clouds.
"Bring your dog in for breakfast," you said, your grin widening as you met Syphaâs eyes. "Adrianâs the one cooking today."
The smile she returned was bright, her laughter lightening the room even more. "Iâll hold you to that," she said with a chuckle, turning toward the door to retrieve her sheepish husband.
Behind you, Adrian stepped closer, his expression softening as he gazed at you. "You handled that well," he murmured, his voice laced with quiet admiration.
You turned to him with a playful smile, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "Itâs what wives are for, isnât it darling?"
#alucard#castlevania#adrian tepes x reader#alucard x reader#tropevania event#fluff#wife reader#so fun
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people on here interacting with neil gaiman is so. ur like this cannot possibly a real human being off anon!!! sitting down typing out an ask like that knowing the creator of the work will see it. and then ur like well dont be an asshole maybe it's just a 14 year old engaging in fandom for the first time! but then u click on the blog to see its a 35 year old actual real adult who went hello mister GAYman (hihihaha) thank u so much for making my coffeeshop au background relationship / rarepair endgame / slow burn true love sunshine sunshine protector dynamics of my dreams come true! u really had crowley say SMUT đđ„łđ€Łđ but why was there conflict :/sometimes people argued and???? was that really necessary??? pls tell me rn that this is in fact a happy ending fic scenario otherwise I will have to kill myself immediately in exceedingly violent fashion and it will be ur fault (if michael sheen and david tennant don't kiss again in s3 u will feel my wrath. i know ur home address) anyways. are u aware of the omegaverse trope đ just blink twice if that is something we can look forward to in s3 đđđ€ also crowley wore different clothes during different episodes?? is that a continuity error?? or will that be explained in s3?
#good omens#txt.me#like. DIE. also i think u should all delete ao3 immediately no joke#viewing media thru this wrapped lense of fanfic exclusively is not good for ur brains fr#10k+
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đđđ»Spooky Greetingsđ»đđ
A/n: This literally came to mind when I saw something similar in the actual game event. First time posting twst content here. This may get a sequel. Gonna try to post variety spooky content here cause HAPPY OCTOBER YALL!
SPOILERS for the new Halloween game event going on, somewhat. Also, a bit of Skully x fem!reader and implied fem!reader x the twst bois shown/tagged down below. Short Harem drama, kinda. Not much. But I think it ain't half bad.
*DON'T STEAL, COPY, EDIT, REPOST AND TRANSLATE MY FANFIC WORK. REBLOG, LIKE, FOLLOW PLS N THNX.*

âHello, my lovely~â
The moment this new strapping figure â âSkully J. Graves at your service~â â appeared holding you in his arms as you awoke, you were awestruck at the spooky strapping young man.
After introducing all of yourselves, watching him kiss the hand of your schoolmates was amusing; seeing their appalled expressions. Guessing they don't get that brand of greeting often, huh?
Him kissing Grim's cheek had his fur stand on end to your delight.
And yet?
The moment he took your hand â only to pull you in and kiss you smack dab on the lips?
You felt the fires of envy and hate turn ablaze as the various pairs of eyes glowed outrageously.
Many hands, gloved or not, snatched him off you.
And all hell broke loose.
âGet your grubby hands off my beloved, you cretin!â Riddle turned red even his paled up Gothic aesthetic; Trey holding the struggling boy back in his arms.
âHe means MY herbivore, skeletal bastard.â Leona growled in Skullyâs face as he grabbed his collar.
âOn the contrary, MY angel isn't up for auction when it comes to kisses from mere worms.â Azul's irked smile gave off unpleasantness.
âOho? That doesn't seem to be the case, surely.â Jade jested to his boss's ire.
âMY jewelâs already doing so, octo pimp. That goes for you too, street rat.â Jamil hissed them both back and forth.
âHave you no manners of consent, you mongrel? Besides, my darling Y/n has better taste than you all. Me, for example.â Vil flaunted in the others irked faces; Epel looked just about done at this point.
âDon't you dare take away my Otaku goddess, you noob!â Idia gripped dramatically to the others nuisance.Â
âHow dare you lay a finger on my beloved human.â Malleus spoke doom.
The air around them crackled with literal lightning as emerald flames had his hands full.
âMy future Queen ⊠prepare yourself ⊠FOR HELL.â
âWAKA-SAMA!â Sebek switched to fanboy mode at his God's might.
âFor once, we're on the same page.â Leona's smirk sent his way spoke volumes as he dropped Skully before the dragon prince.
âTSUNATARO, STAND DOWN! ALL OF YOU, PLEASE!â You got in the way to defend the new anime boy from the others' united wrath, especially Malleus's. âOne kiss is not that big of a deal.â
You could hear a pin drop now as everyone, even Skully, viewed you as if you had two heads.
âGood grief. Ya sure you're not magical? Cause you're bewitching them into lovestruck fools. And you're not dating any of âem. God, you're an idiot.â Grim griped.
Leona, Jamil, and Sebek appeared as glowing eyed phantom monsters ready for the kill. âYOU'RE ONE TO TALK, FUR BALL!!!â
Yet Skully looked unperturbed, his charming toothed smile arised, as Grim got chased by three SSR dressed pissed off mages. âOya oya ⊠What a lively bunch, you all are. And all because I took a kiss from your sweet lips, lovely Y/n. But if you are single, then may I ask you out?â
âNO!!!â All the former overblot cases now turned bachelors for your token affections shouted in unison.
Trey, Jade and Epel and you hung your head in exasperation.
Ah, quite the Harem dilemma.
Halloween coated, no less.
#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x you#twisted wonderland x mc#twst x reader#twst x you#twst x y/n#skully j graves#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#jamil viper x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia x reader#various x reader#twst wonderland#twst oneshot#riddle x reader#leona x reader#azul x reader#jamil x reader#vil x reader#idia x reader#malleus x reader#skully x reader#skully j graves x reader#halloween#twst spoilers#twisted wonderland spoilers
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Pick me girls and OM! Brothers - Part 1
Characters: Lucifer, Mammon and Levi (x reader, separately)
Part 2 - Satan, Asmo, Beel and Belphie (x reader, separately)
Part 3 - Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon (x reader, separately)
Masterlist
CW: pick me girl behavior, suggestive, mentions of sex between the brothers and mc, mentions of violence, a bit of magic, mentions of cheating (not actual cheating), mammon and mc taking a shower together, jealous mc, some fluff, some hurt, some comfort, kinda ooc but i had so much fun with this
.
Lucifer
Wherever you went, rumor followed. Haven't you heard? The mighty Lord of Pride has a significant other. Who could it be? Maybe the prince or his butler? Both of them? Or perhaps it was just some random demon? Surely not the human... right?
"Of course not!" said the witch, surrounded by both curious and jealous nobles.
You weren't in the balcony, but you could still hear the conversation in your spot near the open door. You could also hear the gasps and the murmurs. It was ridiculous.
What to do next? You could interrupt the gossip and make your relationship public; after all, it was only a matter of time before someone spotted you both in Ristorante Six or an empty hallway in RAD.
Ignoring them was the better option, however. No words sounded aggressive and yet polite enough to get the witch to shut up without making a scene. Plus, Lucifer was looking exquisitely fine that night. His wings did wonders to his appearance.
"Then who?" the voices asked while you walked away towards your boyfriend.
"Well, I wasn't supposed to say anything..."
Oh no she did not.
"But we're just so in love"
I'll be damned, you thought. She did.
The wrath you felt was primal and it provoked a worried glance from Satan, who was chatting with one of his many contacts in the other side of the ballroom.
You wanted to make an entrance, a dramatic one, but you could only watch as the witch talked and talked about her supposed first date with Lucifer, their first kiss, their first time, his performance in bed (which... No. She was so wrong about that one).
Finally, you opened your mouth.
"You don't say?"
But that wasn't your voice.
Beside you stood Lucifer in all his glory, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes and a hand hugging your waist. The floor trembled under your feet as he walked and, if it wasn't for his tight grip, the magic induced vertigo would've send you to the ground.
You could tell he was trying not to harm you too much, but the group in the balcony wasn't so lucky. All of them were on their knees and some even coughing blood.
"Do tell all your stories tonight, by dawn you'll have no tongue to keep lying"
The witch had tears in her eyes, too focused on her own pain to be aware of her surroundings or his words. Was he being serious? You wanted to ask what would really happen to that woman, but Lucifer was always two steps ahead.
He cradled your face and kissed you, slowly yet firm. His cold skin felt good against yours, already blushing under his half lidded eyes.
"Dance with me?" he asked, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb.
Damn, did he know how to distract you.
Mammon
"You're dating the Great Mammon!" he'd said with his characteristic smile, both of you eating ramen in your bed while watching bad romcoms "That's something to be stoked about! You need to tell everyone about it!"
Of course, that translated to: please, please, please, I need people to know that I bagged YOU and YOU chose ME.
So, there you were, chatting with his makeup stylist and some other models while he posed in front of the camera. It was better than you expected, actually. You thought the fashion world in the Devildom would be full of self righteous assholes and insufferable divas, but you couldn't be more wrong.
Well, of course, there's always an exception.
There was a demoness in the other side of the studio, taking selfies with a pout in her lips and a fake, nauseating, innocence in her expression. She looked toxic from a mile away.
And yet, your boyfriend dated her for three months; three long and excruciating months, yes, but still. They'd dated.
And you were cool with that. So so cool with that. You were chill. A freezer, even. You loved Mammon and everyone and their mother could tell Mammon loved you. Everything was fine.
Except... well...
It was easy to forget the brothers were famous and popular bachelors, princes of hell, that, just like in every human monarchy, had fans to spare. People that would support them no matter what they did and no matter who they dated and people that would hate everyone they dated because... You don't really know why.
You just had some haters.
And this bitch was taking advantage of this, you knew it in your heart.
Rumors of Mammon cheating on you with one of his model coworkers had been there since the beginning of your relationship. It was something you just had to live with, one of the reasons the Avatar of Greed doted on you with everything he had.
Mammon loved you.
So why did you panick so much when he stood up in the underwear he was advertising, getting ready for the next picture, and the demoness took a selfie of her lips with his half naked body behind her?
"That whore" whispered another model behind you. You liked them.
But it was okay, you didn't mind. No, really. You didn't.
Except you did.
And so did Mammon.
"Oi!"
Everyone looked at him and you could swear his demon form was starting to show, blending with his siluette in blurred edges.
"Delete that"
She could've laughed at him, like everyone tended to do. She could've ignored him and tempt fate, but it was not a wise idea.
There was static in the air, black mist barely clouding your vision and a faint voice whispering in the back of your brain. The sound of feathers filled the room and soon crows started to surround the studio outside the window.
After a couple of sickening minutes, a loud pop settled the place back to normal and caused the birds to fly away.
The demoness gasped, letting her DDD fall to the ground like it burned her. Looking at her smoking hands, it probably did.
After that, everyone acted like nothing happened. You, however? Your whole body was buzzing, leaving you paralyzed with feelings you needed to explore in the future and making Mammon look at you with a knowing smile.
"...sick of those rumors..." he'd say hours later while he washed your hair in the shower "and you dumbass humans believe everything you see, even if it's stupid"
He'd wait until you were both in bed, ruminating about every little thing that happened back there before talking again.
"Because it's stupid, you know? I'd never cheat on ya. The Great Mammon would never do that to you. I mean, I'd never to that anyway, but specially not to you. Keep that in mind, human! You catched the best demon of all hell! Lucky you!"
Lucky me, he wanted to say instead.
You understood him anyways.
Leviathan
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu sent you a message!
.
.
You stared at the screen and the screen stared back at you.
Reading the user name physically hurt you and you'd lie if you said you weren't worried about it. Did you trust Levi? Yes, absolutely. Did you trust f3istyk1ttenuwu? Not really, no.
So (this time voluntarily), you opened the gates of hell.
It was the Devildom version of Discord, which was worrying enough, and the user's pfp showed a cute pinked hair girl with dainty horns and half of her boobs out.
With a frown and your heartbeat in your throat, you opened the chatroom.
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: r u lone?
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: did ur frend leef?
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: their a party pooper
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: didnt let u join the grp
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: :(
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: leviachsn?
.
Oh, heeeeell no.
First of all, it was leviachAn. Second, YOU were the only one who could call him THAT.
Ignoring the voice of reason, you checked the door before investigating the previous messages. Levi was in your room, retrieving your nightwear as punishment for not letting you win in Devil Kart YET AGAIN, so, knowing how flustered he got everytime he saw you in the Ruri Chan's inspired piyamas he got you for your birthday, you were sure you had another couple of minutes alone in his room.
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: thx 4 sving me !!
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: we shld team more
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: were zo good 2gether
wEre Zo gOoD 2gETheR
You couldn't help but mock her in the privacy of your mind. Did she think writing like a 10 year old was attractive? If so, what the fuck?
@/f3istyk1ttenuwu: call? brke my pc & cn't fix it alone \(-o-)/
"Call a fucking tech" you whispered to yourself.
"Henry?"
Fuck.
You turned around like a deer in headlights. Levi's cheeks still wore a furious red, but he remained quiet at the door when he saw you snooping through his private conversations.
Fuck it, you thought after some uncomfortable seconds. If someone could understand jealousy, it would be him.
"Who's this girl?"
Levi frowned and got closer to you, leaning over your shoulder to see his computer, probably giving you the closeness he'd crave if he was in your place.
"Oh, I don't know" his final answer disappointed you "Some girl the others wanted in the party"
But why was she talking to him like that?
"And why is she talking to you like that?"
He shrugged his shoulders, knowing that both of you knew the answer. Then, he straightened like he had an epiphany, and looked at you with shining eyes and a smile too big for his face.
"Are you jealous, MC?"
Levi jumped in happiness before you could say anything, unable to truly express how happy he was upon his sin affecting you.
"My Henry is jealous!! Because of a yucky disgusting otaku like me!! This reminds me of that anime: 'Help?! My crush snooped through my pc and now they're jealous because someone else is flirting with me??'"
It was obvious by now you had nothing to worry about, so you let him be. You let him appreciate how much you loved him.
In the end, you had to shower his face in kisses to shut him up and, for great measure, you also changed into that extra large Ruri Chan t-shirt in front of him.
Hours later, both of you were sweating in the comfort of his bathtub and Levi was completely sure you fell asleep.
And if you saw how he offered himself to fix this girl's computer only to hack her camera and post her real face all around the internet, no you didn't.
Tagging them lovely people: @hello-gloomy @the-sassiest-toaster @hero-nii-blog @yourlocalyin
Hope you like it!
#obey me#obey me! shall we date?#om! swd#om! shall we date#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me levi#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me lucifer x mc#lucifer x reader#lucifer x mc#obey me mammon x reader#obey me mammon x mc#mammon x reader#mammon x mc#obey me levi x reader#obey me levi x mc#obey me x reader#obey me x mc#obey me fluff#obey me hurt/comfort#obey me x gn!reader#obey me x gn!mc#obey me x gender neutral reader
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Still not over the âCaptain Marvel is 8â5â to Billy Batsons 5â4ââ reblog and thinking of someone seeing this unit of a man with all the kindness and positive radiance of a pure hearted child stopping a giant robot from crushing them like âsorry to bother you, Iâll get this out of your way lickety split!â And when heâs done demolishing the robot and looking like the wrath of god while doing so he just pops back down to ask if he can pet someoneâs dog he saw while fighting.
The dog loves him, people are slightly perturbed bc he doesnât even look human, he does but heâs uncanny. Just perfect symmetrical face with no blemishes and hair that refuses to budge but so unapologetically sweet and courteous Fawcett gets used to him and just get used to him being a home grown sweetheart.
Cue anyone else seeing him, like the League, and its alarm bells. Heâs too good, heâs too perfect looking, and by god why is he so big.
First day? Batmans is upset he canât find a facial match, Clark is suddenly in everyone elseâs shoes at having to crane his neck to talk to the guy most the time, and Barda challenges him to a few strength tests he stalls out to have pleasant conversations with her during.
Diana just rings up the Olympians like âhey, did you guys make someone because this guy doesnât look human right and says he works for Zeus.â
Again, down the line, identity reveal after the JL just got used to him after a week, and they are staring down at this scrawny teenager with chunky glasses, hearing aids, a face only a mother could love with all the scars, and rope burn scars on his wrists as he politely waves and introduces himself as radio host Billy Batson.
#spring cleaning#draft posting#billy batson#shazam#my headcanon Billy design cause heâs gotta be all sorts of messed up#fucked up lil guy#batman#Superman#wonder woman#dc#dc comics
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