#also feel free to flick them on the ear for me

[kittluzbills]

prob gonna delete this!! my absolute first shot at writing smut even tho there's little to none omg . also my first time writing for billie!!! hope you guys like this cause i don't!

--

hold on to something - b. e.

The room was dim, the only light spilling from the hallway casting a soft glow across Billie’s face as she leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Y/N with a look that could cut through steel.

“You’ve been teasing me all damn night,” Billie muttered, voice low, rough, and wrecked with want. “And now you’ve got nothing to say?”

Y/N shifted on the bed, thighs pressing together like it’d do anything to relieve the ache Billie’s gaze alone had stirred up. She bit her lip, but Billie was already crossing the room, pulling it free with her thumb.

“Uh-uh,” she said, eyes flicking to Y/N’s mouth. “Use your words, baby. You don’t get to be quiet now.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, pulse thundering in her ears. “I want you,” she whispered.

Billie smirked, dragging her nails lightly down Y/N’s bare thigh. “That’s a start. But you’re gonna have to be a hell of a lot clearer than that if you want me to keep going.”

A pause, thick with anticipation. Then—

“I want your mouth,” Y/N gasped. “I want your hands. I want you to ruin me.”

Billie’s grin turned feral. “Now that’s more like it.”

Billie’s fingers lingered on Y/N’s thigh, her touch light but commanding, like she knew exactly how far she could push before Y/N fell apart. The smirk was still on her lips, but her eyes had darkened, heat pooling in them like a storm just waiting to break.

Y/N reached up, grabbing Billie’s shirt to pull her closer. “I said I want you,” she said, voice shaking but sure. “Why are you still dressed?”

Billie chuckled low in her throat, leaning in so close her breath brushed against Y/N’s jaw. “Because I like watching you squirm for it,” she whispered, before finally capturing Y/N’s mouth in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue and barely restrained hunger.

Clothes were a blur — peeled away, tugged off, tossed somewhere neither of them cared to track. Billie moved with the kind of slow confidence that made Y/N feel like she was being studied, unraveled. Hands skated across skin, claiming every inch like Billie had a right to it.

“Tell me what you want,” Billie murmured against her neck, biting just hard enough to leave a mark. “Use your words, baby.”

Y/N moaned, head tilting back, heart thundering in her chest. “I want your mouth on me. I want your hands. I want you to make me forget my name.”

“Good girl,” Billie growled, sliding down her body with a wicked grin. “Hold on to something.”

And Y/N did — the sheets, the edge of the bed, the sound of Billie’s voice echoing in her ears as she was touched, kissed, claimed. Every movement was deliberate, every breath stolen, every gasp pulled from her like a secret Billie already knew but wanted to hear anyway.

Time slipped, melted, disappeared.

When it was over, Y/N lay there, breathless, shaking, a sheen of sweat on her skin and Billie pressed against her side like she belonged there.

“You okay?” Billie asked, brushing damp hair from her forehead.

Y/N nodded, dazed.

“Good,” Billie murmured, kissing her slow this time. “You did so good for me, baby.”

--

oh??? smut but without the smut sorry!!!!

requests are open duh

masterlist :)

xoxo, kitt

[sushiyuzu]

sugar daddy

warning: fluff + tension — sugardaddy!sylus spoiling you with his black card 🤑 [ x fem!reader ]

- second acc: @blushpawss

“here,” sylus says, tossing something onto the table in front of you. you glance down, your eyes widening when you see it—the shiny black card, his personal, unlimited credit card.

“what… what��s this for?” you stammer, looking from the card to him, confused. sylus leans back in his chair, a small smirk playing on his lips, crimson eyes locking onto yours.

“for you to spend, of course,” he says casually, like it’s no big deal. “buy whatever you want.”

your jaw drops slightly, and you feel a mix of disbelief and excitement bubble up inside you. “sylus, are you serious?”

he raises an eyebrow, his silver hair catching the light as he gives you a teasing look. “do i look like i’m joking?”

you can’t help but laugh nervously, shaking your head. “you’ve got to be kidding me… i can’t just spend ALL your money.”

sylus leans forward now, resting his elbows on his knees, and his smirk turns into a playful grin. “trust me, you couldn’t spend all of it if you tried.”

your eyes flick back to the black card, still in disbelief. “but… why?”

“because i like spoiling you,” he says, his tone softer now, almost serious. “and because i can.”

you bite your lip, suddenly feeling a little shy under his intense gaze. the thought of him giving you free rein with his money, his ridiculously large fortune, is overwhelming. but there’s also a part of you—a curious, excited part—that can’t help but wonder what it would be like to indulge.

“you really want me to?” you ask quietly, looking back at him, searching his expression for any sign of hesitation.

sylus tilts his head slightly, studying you with that same intensity that always makes your heart race. “of course i do. i want you to have whatever makes you happy.”

he stands up then, coming around the table until he’s standing behind you. his hands rest on your shoulders, fingers brushing your skin gently as he leans down to murmur in your ear, “go ahead, take the card. spend the day however you want. anything you see, it’s yours.”

a shiver runs down your spine at the feeling of his breath against your ear, and before you know it, you’re reaching for the card, picking it up with slightly trembling fingers. sylus straightens up, satisfied, and moves back to his seat, watching you with a look of amusement.

“i… i don’t even know where to start,” you admit, your mind racing with possibilities. clothes, jewelry, shoes—you could buy anything. it’s almost too much to think about.

“start wherever you like,” sylus says smoothly. “i’ll have a car ready to take you wherever you want.”

you glance up at him, still feeling a little overwhelmed but also more excited than you’ve ever been. “you’re not coming with me?”

he shakes his head, smiling softly. “not this time. today is about you.”

and just like that, you’re whisked away in one of his sleek black cars, the driver patiently waiting as you step into the most expensive stores you’ve ever seen. the salespeople seem to know the moment you walk in, eyes widening at the sight of the black card in your hand. they practically trip over themselves to help you, showing you everything from designer clothes to luxury handbags, expensive jewelry, and shoes that cost more than you could have ever dreamed.

at first, it feels strange—almost surreal—to just point at things and have them brought to you. but as the day goes on, you start to get into the rhythm of it. you try on dresses made from the softest silk, shoes that make you feel like you’re walking on air. the jewelry sparkles under the store lights, and each time you say “i’ll take it,” the salespeople smile and hurry to wrap it up for you.

by the time the afternoon comes around, you’re carrying bags filled with everything you could want and more. sylus’s card never gets declined, no matter how much you spend, and you start to understand just how insane his wealth truly is.

it’s only when you step into the last store—a boutique that specializes in high-end lingerie—that you feel a small pang of nerves again. you’re not sure why, but there’s something about this particular place that feels different. more personal.

“is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” the saleswoman asks politely, her eyes flicking to the black card in your hand.

you hesitate for a second, then smile. “i’m just looking.”

but as you browse through the delicate lace and silk, your mind drifts back to sylus, to the way he looked at you earlier. you pick up a particularly beautiful red set, running your fingers over the soft material, and you wonder what he’d think if he saw you in it.

without even realizing it, you find yourself buying the set. as the saleswoman wraps it up for you, you can’t help but smile to yourself, imagining the look on sylus’s face when he sees it.

when you return to the house, your arms full of bags, sylus is waiting for you in the living room, lounging on the couch with a glass of wine in his hand. he glances up as you walk in, his crimson eyes lighting up with amusement.

“looks like you had fun,” he says, setting his glass down and standing up to greet you.

“you could say that,” you reply, laughing as you set the bags down one by one.

he walks over to you, his hands slipping around your waist as he pulls you in for a kiss. “did you get everything you wanted, sweetie?”

you nod, feeling a little giddy from the day. “more than i wanted.”

his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “good. because i want to see everything you bought. especially that little red number you picked up at the end.”

your face heats up, your heart skipping a beat as you realize he somehow knew about the lingerie. you look up at him, wide-eyed, and he grins, his thumb brushing against your lower lip.

“nothing gets past me,” he teases, his voice low and playful.

you can’t help but laugh, feeling the warmth of his arms around you, the weight of the day’s indulgence sinking in. “you really spoil me, you know that?”

“i enjoy spoiling you,” sylus replies, his eyes darkening slightly as his lips find yours again. “and i’m not done yet.”

[leighsartworks216]

Sleepy Kitty

Sylus x gn!Reader

What if you became the cat and also got that sleepy cat feature with the service?? Think about it

Warnings: fluff, silly, cat ears and tail, cuddling, panic, some sort of a relationship going on, Xavier cameo

Word Count: 1,672

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Your heart can’t sit still, torn between aching and frantically racing in a frenzied panic. Every time you look into the mirror, you start freaking out. You had to call in sick this morning with a poor excuse, cancel all your plans for today and tomorrow, and try to figure out a solution to your problem:

You are a cat.

Well, you have the ears and tail, at least. At first, you can’t believe it. But sure enough, they’re real. Real and not disappearing.

You tug desperately at the fluffy ears, yanking on them, praying they’ll just disappear in a poof of smoke like it never happened. Instead, all you get is pain that has you scrunching up your face as you keep pulling on them, begging for this nightmare to end.

“Oh, sweetie.”

You yelp, diving into the blankets of your bed. “Go away! Don’t look at me!” You hide in the warm darkness, keeping the blankets held down tight over your head so they can’t be pulled off.

Sylus’s sigh is muffled as he crosses from your bedroom’s doorway to your bed. The mattress sinks down with his weight. “This is why you cancelled our plans today?”

You stubbornly don’t answer.

“Sweetie, ignoring me isn’t going to make me leave faster. Talk to me.”

“I’m fine, just go away,” you insist.

“You really need to get better at lying.”

He grabs your tail as it flicks out from under the blanket. You have to release the blankets to grab it back from him, and he uses that opportunity to uncover you entirely. The jig is up, but you refuse to turn and face him. Your new cat ears lay flat on your head. Even in your hold, your tail is flicking with irritation.

He reaches out to touch the cute ears you despise so much, but you swat his hand away at the first brush. He can’t help his amusement - you really are a kitten.

“Stop laughing! It’s not funny!”

“Of course not,” he agrees, but the sincerity is obscured by his chuckle petering out. “Now, are you going to tell me what happened?”

You heave a long sigh. It hitches at the end as reality starts to crash down on you once more. “I don’t know. I mean, I just woke up this morning and,” you release your tail in favor of grabbing the fluffy tips of the cat ears, drawing them down on your head painfully, “these were here. And now they won’t go away!”

“Stop that,” he chastises you. He takes your hands, freeing the ears from your cruelty. His long fingers intertwine with yours as he wraps his arms around you, making you hug yourself at the same time, and drawing you into his lap. “We’ll figure it out.”

You give in, slowly relaxing back into his broad chest and the warmth he radiates. Your tail taps rhythmically against his leg as it swishes back and forth over your bedsheets.“What if we don’t? What if I’m stuck like this forever?”

He kisses your head. Your ears stand up and brush his cheeks. He tries not to chuckle at how plainly your emotions have been laid bare. “We can worry about that later, after we’ve exhausted all possibilities. Deal?”

“... Deal.”

-

It is now mid-day. The sun is shining bright, the rest of the day is still to come, and you are sleepy. The kind of sleepy that makes you feel heavy and sluggish; that makes a big blanket sound like utter heaven.

Sylus is tired, too. His exhaustion, however, comes from staying up far past his usual bedtime. He’s much better at hiding it. Meanwhile, you’re yawning every other minute, rubbing your eyes, leaning against him whenever you’re at a standstill. For those last several minutes, he’s been leading you back to his car. You don’t realize what’s going on until he’s already driving.

“Mm, where are we going?” You frown out of the passenger side window. It doesn’t take long before your head is resting against the glass, cushioned by the beanie from your closet meant to hide the cat ears.

“Back to your place.”

“What for?”

He shoots you an amused grin. “It’s bedtime, kitten. We both need a nap.”

“Huh? No, wait, I’m fine!” You sit up straighter, crossing your arms and staring determinedly out the windshield. “I’m up, see? We can keep going.”

“Fine. I’ll take a nap and you can watch.”

The drive is quiet. The expensive car blocks out most of the noise outside. The radio is off, but the AC hums as it blows warm air. Sylus glances over frequently, watching as you slowly, slowly sink deeper into the heated leather seat. Your head rests awkwardly on your shoulder as you blearily glare at the passing buildings. The next time he looks over, your eyes are closed.

He pulls into the parking lot with ease. You don’t show any signs of waking up as he kills the ignition. Honestly, he’s glad for it. The entire time you’ve been trying to piece together the mystery, you kept working yourself up into a panic. Any more of that, you would make yourself sick from stress.

He rounds the car and carefully opens your door. In between unbuckling you and lifting you into his arms, he can’t help admiring you. The beanie is crooked, there’s bags under your eyes, and he’s never seen anything more beautiful than you right now.

The apartment building is very nice, especially with your finances. He nudges the elevator call button with his elbow and waits for it to come down. The silver doors open to reveal a blonde man in a white hoodie. Instead of getting out, the man keeps the doors from closing, watching him with sharp blue eyes as he steps in.

“What happened to them?”

Sylus puts on an easygoing grin. “They aren’t feeling well today. Don’t worry, they’re in good hands.” He nudges the button for your floor and quirks a brow at the man. “This not your stop?”

The man lets go of the doors, standing opposite from Sylus with his arms crossed and staring him down. “I’m just making sure they get home okay.”

With the slightest of shrugs, Sylus looks straight ahead, seemingly ignoring the man as the doors close and the elevator starts to move. The tension in the small space is heavy; it extends to every corner and between the little numbered buttons. Neither of them do anything to dissipate it.

When the door opens again, it’s like the pressure it released. The air in the hall completely overwhelms the distrust in the tiny elevator. It doesn’t disappear entirely, but it’s easier to breathe out here than in there.

The blonde man follows behind as Sylus carries you to your apartment door. He thinks you’ve told him about this coworker of yours before; you go out on missions together often. Funny - of all the times you’ve mentioned him, you never said anything about him behaving like this.

Sylus slides your legs further up his arm to free his hand. The man stares at the knob as he places his thumb on the lock. When it beeps and lights up green, he seems to relax a little, so slight that it’s only due to Sylus’s lifestyle that he was able to pick it out.

He pushes open the door and turns back to the man. “Will that be all?”

Blue eyes stare down appraisingly. Sylus can’t shake the way it unsettles him deeply, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up and his body preparing to fight if the need arises. Some background checks into this guy are now a necessity with how close he works and lives to you.

But the man nods. “Tell them I hope they feel better soon.”

“Of course.”

And just like that, the man is heading back to the elevator with a lazy yawn. Sylus shuts the door. He sighs heavily, looking down at your peaceful face. “You’re lucky I had the liberty of putting my print in your system,” he says. “I don’t think he’d have reacted well if I teleported in here.”

Your apartment is exactly how you both left it this morning. He follows the familiar path to your bedroom, bedsheets rumpled and covered in clothes from when you tried finding an outfit that could hide your tail. He gestures vaguely with his hand. Red and black tendrils of energy gather the clothes and stack them elsewhere to deal with later. Another tendril pulls down the blankets for him.

Being careful not to disturb you, he lays you down on your bed. You look soft, delicate. Completely vulnerable, and yet sleeping undisturbed even as he looms over you. He pulls the blankets up over your body and slides the hat off your head. Your fluffy cat ears shift and twitch slightly from being exposed to the open air once more, before they relax.

He stands up to go to the couch, but something holds onto his arm. When he looks, your tail has slipped from under the covers and the clothing you used to hide it, just to hold onto him. It was soft. It really would only take the slightest effort to slip free from its grasp, but when he started to step away, you started to frown. With an amused chuckle, he opens the blankets again and nudges you aside, before climbing into the bed.

You reposition yourself to use his chest as your pillow, arms wrapped around him and legs tangling with his. Your tail slips from his arm to curl around his waist.

And then you start purring. He smiles. Tentatively, he pets your ear. It twitches at first, before relaxing into his touch. You nuzzle your face over his heart.

“Sleep tight, kitten,” he whispers. His hand continues to lazily pet you as he closes his eyes. Your purrs act like a soothing balm to his soul as sleep slowly takes hold.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc

[rootedinrevisions]

The Rough Side of Hangman's Girl

SUMMARY: You’ve always been the quiet one, the kind of girl who prefers soft laughter to loud crowds, and gentle touches over wild passions. But Jake “Hangman” Seresin has a way of drawing out the side of you no one else gets to see. When he steps into your world, he doesn’t just turn your life upside down—he pushes you beyond every boundary you thought you had. Now, with his intense gaze and unyielding hold, you find yourself craving every rough touch, every whispered command.

A/N: Thank you to the person who send me the DM about this request! This one was so fun to write! I really hope you like it and I did your request justice.

Also the way Glen/Jake is biting his lip in this GIF does something to me so I had to include it!

PROMPT: "Don't be gentle with me-I like it when you're rough."

WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, P in V sex, spanking.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The door shut softly behind you, and you barely had a second to breathe before Jake had you pressed against the wall. His hands were braced on either side of your head, his body so close you could feel the heat radiating from him, grounding you and sending your pulse racing all at once. His mouth met yours, warm and teasing, before his lips trailed down to your neck, peppering kisses along your skin with unhurried confidence.

His lips skimmed over a sensitive spot just beneath your ear, and you felt the heat bloom across your cheeks.

A quiet hum escaped you, and you felt Jake’s lips curve into a smirk against your skin. “Jake…” you whispered, the request barely audible, but he heard it. “Bite me.”

He froze for a second, pulling back just enough to catch your eye, his eyebrows raising in surprise. That trademark smirk spread across his face as he took you in, a low chuckle escaping him.

“Didn’t know you had that in you, sweetheart,” he drawled, the endearment roughened by a hint of mischief. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Your eyes met his, emboldened by his reaction. “Don’t be gentle with me,” you murmured, your voice soft but steady. “I like it when you’re…rough.”

Jake’s gaze darkened, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip as he considered your words, his smile turning wicked. “My sweet girl has a dirty side, hmm?” He teased, pressing closer. His voice dropped to a murmur as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “Well, I can give you exactly what you want.”

His hands moved to your waist, fingers pressing firmly as he lifted you slightly, pressing you tighter against the wall.

He leaned in, his lips grazing yours as his voice softened to a rough whisper. “But remember you asked for this.”

Jake’s hands gripped your waist firmly as he lifted you, carrying you down the hallway to your bedroom, his stride confident and purposeful. You wrapped your arms around his neck, heart pounding with anticipation as you looked up at him. There was a smoldering intensity in his eyes you hadn’t seen before–something darker, an edge to his usual smirk that made your pulse race even faster.

He pushed open the door with his shoulder, guiding you in and setting you down just beside the bed. His fingers were immediately at your waist, slipping under the fabric of your top, pulling it up over your head in one swift motion. There was no hesitation in his movements, no teasing pace–he was stripping away every article of clothing with a sense of urgency, his touch rougher than usual, more intense.

“Turn around for me,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding as he pressed a hand against your back, guiding you to face away from him.

You felt a thrill shoot through you as you did what he asked, your breath hitching when his hands moved to the waistband of your jeans, tugging them down with a rough pull, taking everything with them until you were bare under his gaze.

“Get on the bed,” he said, voice gruffer than usual.

His hand rested on your lower back, urging you forward until you were positioned on all fours. The air was thick with anticipation, and just as you settled, you felt his fingers thread into your hair, tugging firmly as he leaned over you, his breath warm against your ear. 

“Head down,” he murmured, the quiet dominance in his tone making you shiver. His grip tightened as he pushed your head down to the comforter, his other hand settling on your hip, holding you firmly in place. “And keep that pretty little ass up for me tonight,” he added, his voice laced with a roughened edge that made warmth spread through you instantly.

The weight of his hand, the way he held you down, his voice steady and unyielding–it was already too much, and you pressed your thighs together instinctively, unable to hide the effect he was having on you.

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured, catching the subtle movement. “We’ve only just started.”

Your thighs pressed together instinctively, seeking some relief from the tension that was building faster than you could contain. Jake’s amused chuckle resonated in the quiet, his tone edged with a kind of pride and surprise.

Without hesitation, he placed a knee on the bed, leaning in. His hand rested on your hip as he pushed your legs apart again, his knee pressing gently yet firmly, guiding you until you were as exposed and vulnerable as he wanted.

“Keep them like that,” he ordered, his voice low and rough, sending a thrill down your spine .”Or there’ll be consequences. Understood?”

A breathless nod was all you could manage, your face turned into the comforter, heat spreading over your skin. But before you could prepare yourself, you felt the sharp, sudden sting of his hand landing across you, and a gasp escaped your lips, followed by an involuntary moan that hung in the air. Your cheeks flushed deeper, the thrill mingling with a hint of a surprise that you couldn’t hide.

“Oh, now that’s something, isn’t it?” Jake murmured, his tone dripping with amusement as he ran his hand over the spot where his hand had landed, lingering to savor the reaction he’d pulled from you. “My sweet girl likes being spanked, hmm?”

The words made your breath hitch, and just as you felt your body start to melt into his touch, another sharp smack landed, this time harder. Another moan escaped, unbidden, and you felt his fingers spread possessively over your skin, his touch heavy with control and satisfaction.

He leaned in close, his voice a rough whisper as his hand stayed firmly in place. “Keep that up, and I’ll give you exactly what you’re begging for,” he teased, the promise in his voice making you shiver as you instinctively pressed back into his hand, craving more of the intensity he was unraveling in you.

“Look at you,” he murmured, almost to himself, his voice a low, raspy drawl. “Didn’t think my sweet girl who blushed when I kissed her would be into this…but you’re loving it, aren’t you?”

He traced his hand slowly down the curve of your back, a trail of goosebumps left in its wake as he took his time, letting every inch of his touch ignite something deeper. As his fingers reached your thighs, you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing them together again, the ache building so intensely that you couldn’t help it.

But Jake was quick, his hand gripping the inside of your thigh, pushing your legs apart once more.

“Oh no, darlin’,” he whispered, the authority in his voice like nothing you’d heard from him before. “You keep those pretty legs open for me, or we’re gonna have a problem.”

You swallowed hard, nodding, breathless, and his lips brushed against your neck, warm and teasing, before he took hold of your hip, his fingers pressing into your skin with a possessive grip. You could feel the firmness of his body behind you, every inch of him taut and ready, the anticipation was overwhelming.

One hand was still on your hip, he let his other hand drift lower, fingers trailing through your folds, which had you quivering, aching for more. His thumb pressed down on your clit, testing you and the faintest pressure was enough to send a jolt through you.

“You’re already so worked up,” he murmured with a satisfied chuckle, his tone full of dark promise. “Practically dripping, and I haven’t even gotten inside you yet.”

And then, he took it a step further–he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back against him, his movements more unrestrained, less careful than usual, his body pressed firmly into yours. His hand slid up to your shoulder, gripping it just tight enough to hold you in place as he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. 

“Hope you’re ready for this, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice rough with both desire and restraining. “Cause I’m not holding back this time.”

With that, he guided his tip against your folds, taking his time as he ran it up and down, letting the anticipation build until you could barely take it anymore. His touch was rough and demanding, and you were more than ready, practically melting into him as he finally, slowly, pushed himself inside you, savoring every reaction, every gasp, as he showed you exactly what you’d been craving.

Jake’s grip tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin with a roughness he’d never shown before like he couldn’t help himself. Every thrust was harder than the last, his movements quick and relentless, sending a wave of pleasure through you that left you gasping, clinging to the sheets for support. His rhythm had lost its usual restraint, each motion fueled by something you’d never felt from him before. And it left you breathless, lost in sensation.

You barely had time to catch your breath before his hand came down on you again, a swift, sharp smack that sent a shockwave of heat through you. A moan escaped before you could stop it, louder than before, your body instinctively arching into his touch. 

The sound seemed to fuel him, and he chuckled, low and rough, clearly reveling in how unabashedly you were responding. “God, I love how loud you’re being for me,” he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. “Didn’t know my sweet girl could get so worked up.”

His hand slid along your skin before coming down again with another smack, drawing another moan from you, your voice catching as you felt the sharp warmth spread over your skin.

With each sound you made, he seemed to grow more unrestrained, his hands gripping you together, his pace unrelenting as he moved, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, as though he wanted to pull every last gasp and moan from you.

The pressure of his hands on your hips was almost overwhelming, holding you so firmly that you knew you’d feel his touch lingering on you long after that night.

“You’ve been holding out on me, haven’t you?” he murmured, his voice dark and teasing, his breath hot against your skin as he leaned closer, his movements never slowing. “Making me think you were all innocent. But here you are, moaning like you were made for this.”

The combination of his words and his movements left you teetering on the edge, your body completely in sync with his rhythm, every rough touch and commanding word pulling you further under his spell. And as he kept moving, kept pushing you closer and closer, you couldn’t hold back, couldn’t stop yourself fro giving in completely to the way he was taking you apart, thrust by thrust, with no intention of stopping until he’d made you his in every possible way.

Jake could feel you tightening around him, each thrust pulling you closer to the edge. Your body was trembling beneath him, and the way you were clenching told him you were almost there. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He needed to push you over the edge, needed to hear you scream his name.

“Get up on your elbows,” he commanded, his voice harsh but laced with desire. You obeyed without hesitation, your body responding instantly to his words. The new angle was almost too much–his hands gripped your shoulders, pulling you back into him, and suddenly the depth of his thrusts was hitting you in all the right ways. You gasped, your head falling back, and your back arched as his cock slammed into you with an intensity that left you breathless.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake cursed under his breath, his hands moving to your hips to help guide you, pulling you back into him with each stroke. He loved how you felt around him, how responsive you were, how loud you were–everything about this moment sent him spiraling. “God, you’re so fucking loud. I love it. Don’t stop…don’t stop making those noises for me.”

You could barely hold onto the sheets, the overwhelming pleasure radiating through your body, the new angle pushing him right to that spot inside of you that made your entire body seize. His words, his voice, everything about the way he was fucking you–faster, harder–was enough to send you crashing toward the edge.

“Let go for me, baby,” Jake growled, his voice rough with hunger. “I want to hear you scream my name.”

That did it. A shock of pleasure surged through you, your body spasming as you cried out his name, the wave of ecstasy washing over you, pulling you under completely. You felt him jerk inside of you, his breath ragged as he pushed you through it, holding you tight as your body quivered with aftershocks. You moaned his name again, your voice breathless, as the final release hit you both at the same time.

Jake’s grip on your hips tightened as you both finished, your bodies trembling, chest heaving as you collapsed together onto the comforter. 

Neither of you could catch your breath at first, the room heavy with the sound of your labored breathing. His hand brushed a strand of hair from your face as he pulled you closer, the warmth of his body a grounding force after the intense release.

“That was���goddamn,” Jake murmured, his voice rough, but there was a softness behind it now, a gentleness as he ran his hand over your back. “You okay?”

You nodded, still catching your breath, unable to form words just yet. He smiled, his lips brushing over your forehead as you both laid there, tangled up in each other, feeling the afterglow of everything that had just happened.

“Good,” he whispered, holding you a little tighter, feeling the contentment between you both settle in. “I’m not done with you yet.”

[punkshort]

i know who you are | 1. the beginning

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: A head injury on patrol causes you to lose your memories of the outbreak and the people you have grown to know and love over the last ten years.

Chapter Warnings: language, descriptions of blood and wounds, vomiting, angst, amnesia

WC: 7.6K

A/N: I shortened the timeline a bit - all of the events from the first game have happened, but this takes place ten years after the outbreak instead of twenty.

Series Masterlist

Pain.

That was all you could recognize at first. The back of your head throbbed so badly, you couldn't even open your eyes. There were sounds, but they were unidentifiable through the searing, red hot pain radiating across the back of your skull. Tenderly, you reached your hand back to press against the source. You recoiled instantly, the pain too much to bear. A thick and sticky wetness coated your fingers.

Then you smelled it.

The smell of metal. Coppery, familiar. Then... did you smell fireworks? Was it the Fourth of July? A few years back, your older brother was messing around with fireworks and nearly blew off his hand, ending the night in the emergency room. Your parents never let him forget it. Is that what happened? Did he make some stupid bet with you? A game of chicken wasn't out of the realm of possibility. He always brought out your competitive side.

You forced your eyes open just a crack, the sun immediately causing you to close them again. It was too bright and your brain was vibrating like it was trying to escape from the confines of your skull.

You were outside. It wasn't dark, fireworks wouldn't make sense. What was going on?

Then you heard your name. Someone shouting it, over and over, panic stricken.

You tried to hold up your hand, wave them off, tell them to stop being so loud, but you could barely lift your hand before the nausea hit. Unable to stop yourself, you rolled onto your side, your head screaming and punishing you for the sudden movement as you heaved, emptying the contents of your stomach into the grass. The force of it made your head hurt even more, if that was even possible.

The smell of acid mixed with the smell of metal, now.

Maybe you were dying.

Someone's hands were on your shoulders, pushing you onto your back, yelling your name over and over.

"Stop," you pleaded weakly, tears springing into your eyes. The pain was too much.

"Jesse! Get her water!"

You groaned and covered your face with your palms. The sunlight was so fucking bright that you could even see it through your eyelids, a red glow everywhere you looked. You needed darkness. You needed quiet.

"Here, drink," you heard a man's voice say, then the hard plastic pressed against your lower lip. You whimpered and tried to pull away, the thought of anything in your stomach making you feel sick again.

"Shit, Joel's gonna fucking freak," you heard another male voice say from behind your head.

Against your better judgement, you forced your eyes open. Blinking rapidly, you locked eyes with the first person you saw. A man with dark, curly hair that went past his ears, with patchy facial hair and soft, brown eyes. Your eyes drifted down to his dirty, denim jacket, and then you saw his hands. Fear shot through you when you saw the drying blood, fist still clutching a gun, and as you tried to scramble away, you bumped into someone behind you, causing you to panic.

Why were they surrounding you? Who were these people? It wasn't fireworks, it was gunpowder.

"Get the fuck away from me!" you screeched, but the dark haired man inched forward, his free hand reaching out to you, telling you to calm down, it's okay, sugar, but you continued to crawl backwards, ignoring the pain throbbing behind your eyes. What did these people do to you?

"Whoa, it's alright," the other man said. A younger man, also darker hair, but shorter.

Your chest heaved as you gasped for air, panic seizing you from head to toe. Your eyes flicked around the forest, the huge tree trunks making it impossible to figure out where you were.

"W-where am I? Where's my mom?"

The man holding the gun frowned and exchanged concerned glances with the other man.

"She's gone," he said gently, as if it were obvious. A strangled noise got caught in the back of your throat when you looked at the man's gun again.

"What did you do to her?" you asked, voice wavering. The man's eyes dropped to the gun in his hand and he quickly holstered it.

"I didn't do anythin' to her, sugar," he said, and again looked at the younger man before continuing. "She died the first day."

"What?" you asked, lip trembling. What the fuck was going on?!

"First day of what?"

"You don't remember?" he asked, and you could see the worry in his face. His eyes wide and his hand a little shaky.

"No, I don't fucking remember! What the fuck are you trying to pull?" you exclaimed, your voice rising the angrier you got.

"Sugar, do you know who I am?" he asked, sneakily taking the handgun that laid abandoned by your side in the dirt and tucking it into the back of his pants.

"No," you spat, then winced and clutched the back of your head again. When you pulled your hand back, you saw fresh blood coating your fingers. Your heart began slamming in your chest and you were finding it difficult to bring in enough air to keep you level.

"Jesse, get a rag," the man ordered. Jesse jumped up and jogged over to a backpack discarded on the ground. Old, worn, faded, with splashes of blood.

Then you saw the bodies.

Well, you supposed they could be considered bodies, but they didn't look like people. Not anymore. Their skin was sagging and grey. Clothes, torn and dirty. Mangy hair ripped out in handfuls at the scalp. Their mouths were agape, revealing yellowed teeth and stinking of rot.

"What the fuck?" you whispered as your vision narrowed. You faintly realized Jesse was pressing a rag against the back of your head, trying to stop the bleeding and had you not been so scared and confused, you might have shoved him away.

"Tommy, what do we do?" Jesse asked, and you could hear the fear in his voice now. His hand shook against your shoulder as he tried to keep you still.

"We gotta get her back home, have Nick take a look at her," he said, and you looked back and forth between them, flabbergasted. Talking about you as if you weren't right there.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," you told them. You tried to stand up, but fell to your knees. Tommy knelt down next to you, his arm circling around your shoulders, but you shrugged him off.

"C'mon, sugar. We ain't gonna hurt you, you just hit your head and you need to see a doctor," Tommy said. "Jesse, grab me my first aid kit."

"I gotta go home," you mumbled, and forced yourself to stand again. You couldn't see straight. Everything around you was spinning even though you were fairly certain you were standing still. "I need to see my dad... my brother."

"Shit," you heard Jesse mutter under his breath as he hustled over with a small, leather bag.

"Okay, why don't we take you to a doctor first, then we can talk about your family, alright?" Tommy asked gently. "I'm just gonna patch you up til we get back," he added, reaching into the bag for some medical tape. You watched as Tommy instructed Jesse to hold the rag against your head while he ran the medical tape around, holding the cloth in place.

You didn't have much choice. As you looked around, you were becoming more and more aware you had absolutely no idea where you were or what was happening. You definitely weren't home. There weren't trees like this back home.

So, begrudgingly, you agreed to follow them. Tommy stuck two fingers into his mouth and whistled, a sharp, piercing noise that made you wince. You were confused until you heard the soft pattering of hooves approaching, and through the trees, three tacked up horses emerged. A pale yellow one slowed and stopped a few feet away from you, snorting loudly and stomping its foot. You watched as Tommy and Jesse grabbed their backpacks and mounted their horses. Then Tommy seemed to realize the problem and quickly slid back down to the ground.

"I'll give you a boost," he said, crouching next to the yellow horse and lacing his fingers together. Slowly, you walked forward, eyeing the horse wearily before gripping the saddle and stepping one foot into Tommy's hands. He hoisted you up as you tossed your leg over the side of the horse and you bent forward, momentarily burying your face in its mane while you tried to stop the world from spinning. Fuck, your head was going to explode.

You followed Tommy's horse while Jesse took up the rear, all of you maneuvering around the rotting corpses littering the ground.

"What is this?" you asked, utterly confused. "Did I faint when we found a bunch of dead bodies or something? We have to go to the police," you told them, panic rising once again.

"We will," Tommy said, and you took a deep breath. Okay, things were making sense. You hit your head. Maybe you fell off your horse and knocked yourself out. You don't remember meeting these men before, but they seemed to know you, and they didn't appear to be threatening. If they were, they wouldn't give you your own horse, right?

"How far away are we from your home?" you asked after about ten minutes.

"Not far. Maybe another half hour or so. You holdin' up okay?" Tommy asked, twisting around in his saddle to look at you, his eyes briefly glancing over your shoulder at Jesse.

"Yeah, I think so. My head really hurts, though," you said, blinking slowly. "Do you have a farm or a ranch or something?"

"A what?" Tommy asked, confused until he looked down at the horses. "Oh, right. No, but we do got a barn."

"Oh, okay," you said uncertainly. You looked around at the trees as your horse obediently followed Tommy's. It was so quiet. You must have been deep into the woods because you couldn't hear any road noise at all. Looking up, you didn't even see or hear any planes. You had never known quiet like this before. It was almost... peaceful.

You looked back over your shoulder, making eye contact with Jesse, who gave you a nervous smile.

"Is he your dad?" you asked, and Jesse snorted.

"No," he chuckled, then cleared his throat and wiped the smile off his face, becoming serious again. "No, Tommy's just my friend. Our friend," he added, and you slowly nodded before turning back around.

You loosely held the reins in your hands as you made your way through the forest, the only sounds coming from your horses and the birds singing in the branches above your heads. When you crossed a small stream, Tommy called over his shoulder not much further now.

At the end of the forest was a clearing. You could see it already. A huge gate and reinforced walls surrounding what you assumed was home to these men, but it looked like a fortress in the middle of nowhere. There were even guards with guns strolling along the top of the fences.

This didn't seem right.

"Stop," you told your horse, but of course it kept walking.

"Stop!" you shouted, and it pinned its ears back. You looked up at Tommy, who had now turned around in his saddle.

"How - I don't know what I'm doing, tell it to stop! I want to stop!" you told him as the panic rose from your chest and squeezed your throat.

"Pull on the reins," Tommy said, and you quickly tugged them, making the horse come to a sudden halt.

"Where are we? What is this?" you demanded, narrowing your eyes at him. By now you had made it just outside the gates, and the guards on top were looking at Tommy questioningly.

"This is Jackson," Tommy said calmly, then slid down from his horse to approach you. "This is where we live. We got a doctor here who can take a look at that head wound."

"Why don't you live in a normal house? A normal town? I don't understand," you said, and the tears began to well up in your eyes. You were so frustrated and everything was so confusing and all you wanted to do was go to bed and forget this ever happened.

"I'll explain everythin', I promise, but first we gotta get you to the doc, alright?" he asked as your tears began to fall. Tommy glanced up at the top of the fence and nodded. You watched as a handful of men began to crank open the gate, revealing the beginnings of a quaint -looking town.

"Can you get down? Go slow, I'll catch you if you fall," he said, and when you looked into his eyes, you could see affection there. You did as you were told. Swinging one leg over, you slowly and carefully lowered yourself to the ground, Tommy's hands reassuringly hovering above your shoulders until you were standing on your own two feet.

"Are we... together?" you asked him.

Tommy and Jesse both laughed heartily and then he quickly shook his head.

"No, sugar," he said, a smile still etched across his face. He looked over at the open gate and his smile slowly began to fade. "But we oughta get you to the doc right away."

You sat on the edge of an exam table, head tilted down, chin against your chest as the doctor Tommy introduced as Nick stitched up the laceration on your scalp. He had numbed the area pretty good with something from a very large needle that sent you spiraling into a frenzy until Nick and Tommy managed to calm you down and convinced you they were not in fact trying to drug you and sell you into sex trafficking, like you had accused them of trying to do.

Once the doctor started to work on your injury, Tommy excused himself, mumbling something about needing to talk to someone and that he would be back as soon as possible.

Nick said he had to cut away some of your hair, that you would have a small bald spot for a while, but the rest of your hair would be able to hide it effectively.

After he took care of the cut, he began to examine you further. He flashed a bright light into your eyes, making you wince and recoil. He asked you strange questions that you were confident you didn't answer correctly based on the expression on his face.

"Cordy- what?"

"Cordyceps," he repeated.

"No, I have no idea what that is. Is it a band?" you guessed, and he shook his head.

"Well, you certainly have a concussion, and I'm afraid you have some memory loss," he said, sitting down on the small stool across from you.

"How much is 'some'?"

"Uh, difficult to say, but ten years? Give or take?" he said, and you balked.

"Ten years?!"

He nodded.

"I'm afraid so. Can you tell me the last day you do remember?"

"Well," you began, relaxing your shoulders as you thought. "I remember it was fall, but it was still hot out. I had a long day at work - I'm a banker," you told Nick, and he nodded. "My feet were killing me, I had barely sat down all day. It was family dinner night at my parents' house. Me and my brother go over there every Friday. My dad made ribs out on the grill so he wouldn't heat up the house with the oven. My mom was wearing this new, green dress that I thought looked hideous but I lied and told her it was cute. And my brother was telling us about a girl he had met the weekend before."

Nick looked at you to continue, but when it became clear you were done, he sighed.

"That's the last day you remember?"

"Yeah," you said slowly, finally picking up on the concerned look he was giving you. "Was that really ten years ago?" you asked, softly this time. Nick pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and nodded.

"Oh my god," you breathed, looking around the sparse, run down room. What happened in ten years to make the world look like this? You were about to ask when you heard shouting coming from the lobby of the infirmary.

Nick jumped up and opened the door, then turned back to you.

"I'll be right back," he said, then shut the door quickly behind him.

You sat on the edge of the bed, legs lightly swinging as you tried to piece together what you knew.

Ten years.

Ten whole years, just... gone.

What memories did you make in that time? Your mom is dead, but what about the rest of your family? Is there anybody in this town that you might actually remember? You looked down at your body. You thought you looked the same, maybe a little thinner, but otherwise the same. Did you ever get married? Have kids?

The shouting got louder and pulled you out of your reverie. It was a man's voice, and it was growing closer. He sounded angry. Livid, even.

You could now hear him opening up the other exam room doors and calling your name, ignoring the voices of Tommy and Nick urging him to stop, and a jolt of fear shot through you. Glancing around the room, you looked for something, anything that might protect you or reinforce the door, but it was too late.

The door swung open and you jumped off the table. If this man was going to hurt you, you wouldn't go down without a fight.

He paused in the doorway, his eyes raking up and down your body, assessing you silently while you did the same. He was tall. Broad shoulders strained underneath a black T-shirt. A blue flannel was clutched in his fist. You could see his muscles twitching under his tanned skin, and when your gaze finally met his, you felt something else other than fear. Something you couldn't quite identify. You knew this man, but you didn't know how.

His hair was dark and had loose curls, similar to Tommy's but shorter and a little lighter. The beard surrounding plush looking lips had a dusting of white at the corners of his jaw, but it was his eyes that drew your attention the most. A deep, beautiful brown that told a whole story in just one moment.

Nick and Tommy stood behind the strange man, looking back and forth between the two of you. Dragging your gaze off of him, you looked at Tommy, hoping he would explain.

Then the man said your name softly and your eyes flicked back to him.

"What?" you finally said with an edge to your voice, growing annoyed with how nobody felt compelled to say anything. They just kept looking at you, waiting for you to acknowledge him as if you'd known him your whole life.

"You remember Joel. Right, sugar?" Tommy asked, and your eyes drifted back to him. All three men stared at you, the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Slowly, you shook your head, and Joel's face fell.

"Is it permanent?" Joel asked, turning to Nick.

Nick paused, his mouth opening and closing as he considered his answer before clearing his throat.

"It's too soon to say-"

"The fuck d'you mean?!" Joel roared, grabbing Nick by his collar and shoving him up against the door. You stumbled backwards in surprise.

"Joel!" Tommy yelled, yanking on his shoulder, trying to loosen his grip on the poor doctor but Joel just shrugged him off.

"Fix her!" Joel yelled, redness creeping up his neck as he slammed Nick up against the door again.

"I-I can't just fix her! What do you think this is? Look around!" Nick stammered, his fingers clawing at the backs of Joel's hands.

You gasped and felt your knees give out from underneath you. Slowly, you sunk down to the floor, crippled in fear. You huddled against the side of the bed, your hands clamped over your mouth as you rocked back and forth, trying and failing to keep your tears at bay.

"Joel! Let 'em go, you're scarin' her!" Tommy yelled, and that finally seemed to snap Joel out of it.

His grip instantly loosened and his head swiveled towards you, his eyes softening when he saw you curled up on the floor. He rushed forward but you held out a hand to stop him.

"Don't come near me."

He froze and stared down at you, hurt written all over his face.

"I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, and you flinched. Baby?

"Maybe we should give you two a minute," Tommy said. Your eyes widened and you shook your head.

"N-no! What do you mean? No!" you cried out. You clawed at the table, pulling yourself up as the tears dried on your face. Joel took a few steps back and stood against the wall, crossing his arms and dropping his head, hiding his face.

"It's just Joel, he ain't gonna hurt you," Tommy said softly, but you still shook your head.

"Look what he just did!" you exclaimed, not even caring anymore if you were hurting his feelings. "How can you say that?"

"Because he loves you!" Tommy said, sounding exasperated.

The room fell silent, the only sound coming from you as you struggled to catch your breath. You glanced over at Joel but his chin was still tucked against his chest.

"Is that true?" you asked him. He nodded, but still didn't look up from the spot on the floor.

You sighed and rubbed your palms roughly over face.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? There's just a lot happening right now and I'm very confused," you said, suddenly feeling guilty.

"I get it," Tommy said, looking back and forth between you and Joel, but Joel still appeared to be fixated on the floor. "Why don't you go home and rest. Can she, doc? Maybe some sleep will help?"

Tommy raised his eyebrows at Nick, trying to get him to agree and play along. Say yes. Don't piss off Joel.

"Yeah, perhaps it's a good idea if you went home. There's some evidence to suggest being around a familiar setting might trigger your memory to return," Nick said, and Joel finally looked up from the floor.

"What else can we do?" he asked as your fingers fidgeted at your sides. You really didn't like the idea of going home with this man. He clearly had a short temper and that set you on edge.

"Are there any personal effects that she holds some sentimental value to?"

Your gaze bounced back and forth between the men as they all talked about you like you were some science project.

"Yeah," Joel said with a nod.

"Alright. Start with that. Anything since you've known each other would work best, see if it jogs her memory. A necklace or a trinket-"

"Yeah, I get it," Joel said, finally chancing a look in your direction. You quickly dropped your gaze from him and looked back at Tommy.

"Can I talk to you?" you asked Tommy, who looked at Joel. Joel didn't say anything, he just stared right back at Tommy, his jaw clenched and his shoulders rising and falling slowly, as if he were trying very hard to control his breathing. You looked back and forth between them, waiting for the silent standoff to end.

"I'll be outside," Joel finally muttered, then stalked out of the exam room with Nick in his wake, leaving just you and Tommy.

"I don't want to go home with him."

Tommy sighed and sat down, resting his elbows on his knees as he rubbed his eyes.

"It's your home, too," he said.

"He scares me," you replied, crossing your arms. "He's a loose cannon. I-I don't feel like I know anyone here and everyone seems to know me. Do you know how that feels? Do you know how scary that is?"

Tommy dropped his hands and looked up at you.

"No, I don't. And I'm sorry, but I promise you nothin' bad's gonna happen. Joel's always had a short fuse but he would never, ever lay a hand on you. He's been head over heels since the moment he met you, and you love him back, sugar."

You looked around the room, needing a break from eye contact for just a minute while you gathered your thoughts.

"How long have I known him?" you asked.

"Five years."

You nodded and chewed on your lower lip.

"And how long have you known him?"

"All my life."

Your eyes darted over to his in surprise and he gave you a small smile.

"He's my older brother," Tommy explained, leaning back in his chair.

"Oh," was all you said, suddenly feeling like shit for saying such things about his family.

"Listen. Why don't you give it a chance, hm? One day. See how it goes, and if you're still uncomfortable, we'll figure somethin' else out," Tommy offered. You considered it for a moment before reluctantly nodding your head. Aside from just walking out of Jackson, you didn't see much of a choice.

To say the walk to Joel's house was awkward would be putting it mildly.

You weren't sure if he overheard your conversation with Tommy, or maybe he just could sense how you felt about going home with him, but ever since you forced yourself to leave the exam room to find him waiting for you in the lobby, he had been very quiet.

His feelings were hurt, that much was obvious, but what could you do? It wasn't like you set out to intentionally hurt him. You had no idea who he was at the time.

You still weren't sure who he was.

You tried to subtly admire his profile as you walked side by side. He had a strong jaw, a sharp nose and a full head of hair, although you could tell he was older than you. By how much, you weren't sure.

You tried to see underneath the gruff exterior, wondering what on earth made you fall in love with him, but it was so hard to see past your first impression.

Well, second first impression.

Then he turned his head to look down at you. Your eyes met and you thought you felt a small flutter in your chest, but you couldn't tell if it was nerves or fear or something else but his eyes were absolutely beautiful. There was something so sincere about them and you found it oddly funny that they seemed to betray the rest of his hardened expression.

"Anythin' lookin' familiar?" he asked you. You blinked and looked around.

The street he was leading you down was filled with people. Children laughing and playing, adults chatting and smiling. If it wasn't for the setting being so strange, it would feel normal. You squinted at some of the faces as you walked by, hoping you would recognize somebody, but you didn't.

"No," you said with a shake of your head, and you thought you saw his shoulders slump next to you but you didn't want to get caught staring at him again, so you focused on looking straight ahead.

The two of you remained silent the rest of the walk, although you could feel the energy radiating off him and for the first time, you began to realize this must be just as hard for him as it was for you.

You were examining the huge watch towers that surrounded the town and wondering what on earth would require such firepower when you realized Joel was no longer at your side. You swiveled your head around, suddenly lost in a sea of people that were smiling at you as they strolled on by but you didn't see a single recognizable face. You felt the panic begin to build again until you heard your name and a gentle hand on your elbow. You looked up and actually felt relief when you saw Joel.

"Sorry, thought you were still with me," he said, then tilted his head towards a side street he must have began to walk down without you.

"We live down here," he added. You heard someone call out both your names as you walked down the street. Joel waved to an older gentleman on his porch and after a brief delay, you waved as well.

"This is so weird," you muttered, shaking your head as you looked around.

"Yeah, I reckon it is."

Joel stopped short in front of a small, two-story house with a large front porch. You looked up at it, taking in every detail. The shutters, the rocking chairs, the small garden out front surrounded by a white picket fence, hoping something would click but you still felt nothing.

"This is your house?" you asked him. He watched you carefully as you continued to look around, wishing he would see something in your eye that would give him a shred of hope.

"Our house, yeah," he corrected you. You glanced up at him and quickly looked away, feeling too guilty when you saw the look on his face.

"Sorry," you whispered.

"Don't be sorry," he told you, but he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and glanced around. "D'you wanna look inside?"

You nodded and followed him past the gate and up the little stone path that led to his - your - porch steps. A flash of yellow in the garden caught your eye and for the first time, a small smile played upon your lips.

"Oh, I love black-eyed susans," you said dreamily, your hand instinctually reaching out to touch the delicate petals.

"Yeah, I know. You told me your mom planted 'em every year," he said, stopping at the top of the steps to look down at you.

"That's right," you said with a smile. "Although it drove her crazy because-"

"The bunnies kept destroyin' 'em," he finished for you.

You stared into each other's eyes for a moment: him, waiting for you to remember, and you, wondering how you could forget.

"Yeah," you finally said, then dropped your gaze and cleared your throat, giving the flowers one last look before ascending the stairs to the front door.

Joel unlocked the door, pushing it open all the way and stepping aside so you could go in first. You peered inside for a moment before taking a step forward.

The first thing you noticed was it smelled faintly like firewood and coffee. The kitchen was to your left, living room to your right, and a staircase was in front of you next to a small hallway that appeared to lead to a back door of the house.

Joel stepped inside behind you and shut the door quietly, allowing you to take your time and process everything at your own speed. He desperately wanted to drag you around the house and show you things you should remember, but he refrained. Instead, his eyes followed where yours went. When you looked at the kitchen table, he thought remember when we had breakfast there this morning? When you looked at the fireplace, he thought remember on our anniversary when we couldn't make it up the stairs quickly enough so we made love in front of the fire? When you noticed the board games, boxes all frayed and worn, sitting on a bookshelf next to the couch, he thought remember when you beat Ellie in Scrabble and she flipped the board over?

But of course, you didn't remember any of those things.

You looked around blankly, and he could tell you were trying to remember but not a single shred of recognition flickered across your face. Your eyes landed on the kitchen counter and you took a step forward.

"We had coffee together today, didn't we?"

Joel's heart fluttered excitedly in his chest.

"Yeah, you remember that?" he asked, quickly joining you at your side. You looked up at him and he could immediately tell what your answer would be.

"No, I'm sorry, it's just-" you pointed to the two mugs still sitting together on the counter and he nodded solemnly.

"Oh, right," he said, then walked over to pick them up and rinse them off in the sink. He turned around and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched you slowly navigate the kitchen. Opening and closing drawers and cupboards, picking up a recipe book and flipping through it, then looking at the paintings on the walls.

"Did you or I draw this?" you asked, stepping towards a portrait that was clearly of him.

"Neither. Ellie did it," he told you, and you looked at him curiously.

"Ellie?"

He nodded and just as he was about to open his mouth to explain, the front door whipped open, startling you.

"Is it true?" a young girl with brown hair pulled back into a ponytail asked as she barged into the kitchen. When her eyes landed on you, she dropped her book bag and stepped forward, peering at you as if you were under a microscope.

"Ellie-" Joel began, pushing off the counter, but she cut him off.

"People are saying you lost your memory or something, is that true?" she asked again, and you nodded slowly.

"Holy shit!" she sputtered, and Joel repeated her name again, but harsher this time.

"Sorry," she mumbled, then pulled out a stool that was tucked under the kitchen island and plopped herself down. "Are you, like, okay? How's your head?"

"Uh, better now. The doctor gave me some medicine and it finally stopped hurting so much, but I got a pretty bad cut," you reached back and touched the bald spot with your fingertips. "He had to stitch it up."

"Can I see?" she asked, and you couldn't help but laugh a little, completely missing the way Joel perked up when he heard it.

"Sure," you said, turning around and lifting up your hair. "Can you see it?"

"Yeah, fucking gross, dude," she said with a shudder. You dropped your hair and turned back around.

"Is she your daughter?" you asked Joel, and Ellie burst out laughing.

"No way," she said, and he just rolled his eyes.

"I don't understand," you said with a frown. "Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," she told you so casually it almost gave you whiplash.

"Oh, my god! I'm so sorry," you said, feeling terrible, but she just gave you a look like you were crazy. Maybe you were.

"It's cool," she said, looking back and forth between you and Joel. "So she really doesn't remember anything?" Ellie asked him.

"Only stuff from... before," he said, narrowing his eyes at Ellie as if trying to silently communicate with her.

"Oh," she said, nodding slowly as if she understood. "Shit."

"Before what?" you pressed, but they both ignored your question.

"Why don't you give her some time to settle in," Joel told Ellie. "Meet us later for dinner at the Bison."

"Yeah, okay," Ellie said, sliding off the stool and picking up her abandoned backpack.

"You don't live here?" you asked her.

"Sorta. I live in the garage, see?" she said, pointing out the window to a building out back with a large window in the front and a small light next to the door.

"In the garage?" you repeated, appalled, but she just laughed.

"It used to be a garage. Joel helped me fix it up and it's more like a guest house now. Right, Joel?"

"Yeah," he said, walking deeper into the kitchen so he could look through the window with you. "You helped her paint it," he said quietly.

"I did?" you asked, and they both nodded.

It looked like they were both waiting for you to say something further, waiting for you to maybe recall the color or the weather that day, but nothing was ringing a bell. You looked at them hopelessly and Joel averted his gaze.

"Go on, Ellie. I'm sure you got schoolwork," he said, and she rolled her eyes as she turned and headed towards the door.

You watched her walk through the backyard and unlock the garage, catching a brief glimpse of the inside before she shut it softly behind her.

"You wanna go lay down for a bit?" Joel asked after he noticed you yawn, and you nodded. You followed him up the creaky staircase, your eyes drifting over everything you could find, hoping something would jump out at you along the way. When he got to the top of the stairs, he stopped suddenly between two bedroom doors and you gave him a confused look.

"What's wrong?" you asked, the look on his face beginning to worry you.

"Nothin', I just realized..." he trailed off and took a deep breath, still staring at the two doors. "We share a room and I just realized tonight'll be the first time in years we sleep apart."

You looked away, feeling uncomfortable. You could see the anguish all over his face. His jaw ticked to the side and he was blinking faster than usual and the guilt was burning a hole in your stomach.

"I'll stay in the spare room," you said, breaking the tension. "Can you just show me where I keep my stuff and I'll-"

"No," Joel said, shaking his head. "I'll go in the spare room. You stay in our room. Maybe it'll help... it should be more familiar to you in there."

You decided not to argue with him. He finally stepped towards the door on the right and pushed it open, leading you into a master suite with a queen sized bed in the middle of the room. There was a quilt on top that appeared to be handmade in various shades of greys and purples. You ran your hand over the material thoughtfully while Joel opened a few dresser drawers and pulled out some spare clothes for himself.

"This is pretty," you said, and he turned around to look at the quilt.

"Becky a few doors down makes 'em," he said, turning back to the dresser. "You really wanted purple and I fought you on it, but you always win," he said with a chuckle. You smiled to yourself as you continued to look around the room while Joel collected a few more belongings. You noticed a pair of reading glasses on top of an old western book on one end table. The other end table had a few loose hair ties, a homemade lip balm, and a black, leather bound book with a pen on top. Without even thinking, you walked forward and picked it up, flipping through the pages one by one. It appeared to be a journal, and it looked like it was your handwriting.

Joel stepped out of the bathroom attached to your room and saw you holding the book. He swallowed and watched your face closely, looking for any sign that what you were reading made sense.

"I was gonna show you that tomorrow. Thought it would be too much today," he said after a few minutes.

"I kept a journal?"

"Yeah. You don't write it in often, but sometimes if somethin' special happened, or you just felt the urge, you would write it down," he said, putting his toiletries next to his clothes on the bed.

You closed the book and placed it back on the table, staring at the old cover, lost in thought. You had a million questions and you had to start somewhere.

"Joel... what happened?" you asked him. He frowned, not following at first until you clarified. "In the world, I mean. What happened? Because all of this," you waved your hands around the room and gestured out through the window. "This doesn't seem right. Did I join a cult or something?"

Joel shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I don't wanna overwhelm you," he began. You sat down as well, making sure to put plenty of distance between you.

"I'm already overwhelmed. Just please... tell me what's going on."

He sighed and looked at the clock on the wall.

"The world ended," he said bluntly, glancing in your direction. You stiffened but you waited for him to elaborate. "It was quick. Happened on a Friday, everythin' was gone by Monday. There's this fungus called cordyceps-"

"Nick asked me about that," you said, and he nodded.

"Well, best guess is the fungus mutated and got into the food supply. It, uh, it infects the brain. It grows and takes over, but it doesn't kill you. Well, not technically." He could see the confusion on your face. He wasn't explaining this right. "The fungus wants to spread, you see? That's it's basic function. If it killed the host, it wouldn't be able to spread. So, the host remains alive, but they're no longer... them."

"And the hosts are... people?" you guessed, and Joel nodded.

"Yeah. Spread like wildfire. One person would get bit-"

"Bit?" you repeated, eyes wide.

"Yeah, it's how the fungus spreads. Through blood. One person would get bit and they turn within hours."

"And there's no cure?"

Joel paused and took a deep breath, his gaze darting nervously around the room.

"No, there's no cure," he finally said.

You sat back on the bed and thought about what Joel just told you. Suddenly, things were starting to make sense. She died the first day.

"And my family?" you asked softly, closing your eyes as you waited for the answer. Joel looked at you, his heart breaking that he had to deliver the news.

"They didn't make it," he said, and one tear slowly escaped and slid down your cheek. "It was a miracle you even made it. That any of us made it," he added, hoping to take the sting out of it.

"A miracle?" you scoffed, opening your eyes now. "How do you figure, Joel? What's the fucking point in living like this?" you asked him angrily, standing up from the bed and pacing around the room.

"Don't say that," he said sadly, rising to his feet. "Believe me, I thought the same thing," he said, unconsciously scratching at the scar on his cheek. "But it turns out there's plenty to live for. It ain't so bad."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" you challenged, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "What is there to live for? Because I have to be honest, I'm not seeing it."

Joel swallowed as he watched you angrily move around the room.

"Love," he said quietly, and you stopped. You stood with your back to him, your shoulders rising and falling as anger and frustration coursed through you.

Finally, you turned to look at him, tears silently falling.

"But everyone I loved is dead," you sobbed, burying your face in your hands. "My family is dead! Everyone I know is gone! What do I have left?" You dropped your hands and looked at him, tears steadily falling as you waited, completely forgetting the obvious answer.

"You have me," he said, his voice cracking. "And I know that don't mean much now, but I promise you, it will."

Your head fell forward, chin tucking into your chest with your hands on your hips.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, still looking down. "That was so rude, I didn't mean to say it like that."

"This is hard for me, too," he said, taking a few steps towards you, then stopped. He wanted to pull you into his arms and hold you close, tell you everything was going to be okay, but he had to remind himself that he was essentially a stranger to you.

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizin' for somethin' that ain't your fault," he told you sternly. You dragged your eyes back up to him, your shoulders slumped forward, eyes puffy and red.

"What if my memory never comes back?" you whispered. It was a question Joel didn't want to ask out loud but knew eventually it would be brought up. He took a deep breath and looked you square in the eye.

"Then I'll have to make you fall in love with me all over again," he said with a small shrug, and you let out a huff of laughter at that.

"You sound pretty confident," you replied.

"I did it once before, I can do it again," he told you, his gaze never wavering. "I'll never stop tryin'. What we have together, it's... it's rare. And it might sound stupid, but we're meant to be together. If you let me, I'll prove it to you."

Something in his eye made you feel calmer the longer you looked at him. He wasn't smiling. He wasn't joking. He meant every word. You tore your gaze away from him and looked around the room again. The room you shared with him. The room where you held each other, kissed each other, made love together. Years of memories etched into the floorboards. Countless secrets whispered into the pillows. Laughter and tears echoed against the walls. Your eyes found him again just to realize he never looked away. He stood tall and firm in the middle of the room, patiently waiting for you. And you had to assume if he felt this strongly about what you had, then it must be worth fighting for.

"Okay."

Follow @punkshort-notifs for fic updates ❤️

[stepbrorafe]

Movie Night - RC

summary : a sleepover w stepbro rafe takes a turn

warnings : swearing, stepcest, somnophilia(dubcon?), fingering, oral, idk idk

a/n : my first lil fic type deal on this acc :) feel free to send in reqs or comment opinions or just talk to me <3

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

“What?” Rafe’s deep voice called out from the other side of the door.

You slowly twist the knob, pushing the door open, eyes instantly meeting his bare back as he leaned over his bed.

“I said ‘what’, I didn’t say come-“ He starts, cutting himself off as he turns to you.

You sheepishly smile, “Sorry, I was just wondering if you wanted to maybe have a movie night?”

His eyebrows furrowed together, confusion plastering itself across his face. Your smile slightly falters as he doesn’t respond for a moment.

“Where’s Sarah and Wheezie?” He questions, as they’re who you usually hang out with.

“Wheezie’s sleeping, Sarah’s where she always sneaks off to anymore.” You mumble, “Just figured maybe me and you could have a sleepover or something. It’s okay though.”

He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t want to have a movie night with you. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t want even more than that. He absolutely loves whenever you’re around, yet he hates it at the same time.

He can’t help but drink in the way you move, the way you speak, the way you seem so innocent yet so naughty. In all honesty, his believing you have a naughty side is purely delusional. You’ve done nothing of the sort to incline you’re anything but innocent. Maybe that’s what it is though. Maybe he just wants to prove that you can be a slut. A slut for him.

Just as you’re turning around to leave, his voice stops you, “What are we watching?”

Your lips twist up in a smile, one that he has to purse his lips from mirroring. You close the door, sauntering over to his bed in your short little bottoms and thin tank top.

“We can watch whatever.” You say, crawling into his bed.

His eyes bore into the way you make yourself comfortable on his blankets, your smooth legs crossing along his bed. He swallows the accumulating saliva, flicking the light off and joining you.

He grabs the remote from his nightstand, passing it to you to choose a movie, stating, “Anything but a chick flick.”

The giggle falls from your lips so effortlessly, causing him to clear his throat and avert his eyes from you.

The night progresses with several movies before you find yourself sound asleep beside Rafe. He isn’t so lucky as sleep refuses to wash over him.

Instead, he’s left staring at you while you snooze. Your cheeks are slightly squished, causing your lips to form into a pout. Your long lashes rest on your cheeks, casting shadows along your skin. Your hair falls into your face, and he can’t help but brush it behind your ear, letting his fingers linger momentarily.

His eyes lower, taking in the way your cleavage is on show as your tank top is bunched below your tits. Your collarbones so prominent, the soft moonlight, shining through from the window, hitting them with a cool glow.

His gaze continues down your body, boring into the skin of your stomach showing as your shirt rides up. It also reveals the waistband of your small shorts. The shorts that barely cover the curve of your ass. In fact, he can see it clear as day. His eyes rake down the rest of you, soaking in the way your plump thighs damn near swallow your bottoms. Your smooth legs resting atop of one another, begging to be spread.

He can’t help the growing of his cock, now straining against his boxers, aching to be released. He lets out a breath, his eyes closing as he revels in the dirty fantasies he’s having.

He so badly wants to pull your legs apart and kiss you through the fabric of your shorts. He wants to squeeze your tits as he buries himself in you, swallowing all the pretty little sounds you make.

He lets out a hiss as his hand rests on his covered cock, adding just the slightest bit of pressure, seeking relief.

Before he can stop himself, he’s scooting closer to you. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back into him. He has to hold back a groan as your ass presses into his bulge.

Completely oblivious the state he’s in, you push back ever further, enjoying the cuddles from your stepbrother.

His hand slides down to your exposed stomach, rubbing small patterns into the skin, taking notice in the way goosebumps form beneath his touch. He can’t help but smirk at that.

You let out a soft hum, still in a deep unconscious state. His hand slowly trails higher, traveling up your torso. His hand halts when he feels your boob. You’re not wearing a bra.

He almost groans at the thought, convincing himself that you did it on purpose. That you want him to touch you. And so he does.

His hand fully engulfs your bare tit, squeezing it so firmly. You stir in your sleep, rolling onto your back. His eyes glimmer at the access you’re unknowingly giving him.

He pinches your hard nipple before removing his hand, and sliding it to the waistband of your shorts. Without hassle, his fingers poke into your bottoms, trailing further down. He tosses his head back at the notion of you not wearing any panties either. You’re practically begging to be fucked.

Taking in your sleeping figure, he lets his fingers go lower, sliding over your bare lips, groaning when he feels your arousal seeping through.

“I knew you were a slut.” He mumbles into your shoulder.

His fingers prod at your slit, pushing your lips open as he rubs you up and down. You let out a small, almost inaudible, moan from the feeling.

Rafe licks his lips, slowly circling your clit with two fingers. He can feel your body slightly tremble against him. Without a second thought, his fingers slide down to your entrance, pushing into you.

The action makes your body jump, instantly pulling you from your dreamy state. Your eyes flutter a few times, taking in what’s happening. Your heart rate picks up and your eyes widen, acknowledging the fact that your stepbrother has his fingers slowly pumping in and out of you.

“Rafe!” You gasp, attempting to push his hand away.

“Shh, you’re okay.” He whispers into your ear, his opposite hand holding you in place.

“W-what are you doing?” You panic, your body tensing as he continues to fuck his digits into you.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He quips, curling his fingers into your spongy walls.

It pulls a moan from you, one that you try to hide away as your cheeks burn bright with embarrassment.

You shake your head, “Stop. This is wrong, you’re my brother.”

“Stepbrother.” He corrects through gritted teeth.

His pace speeds up, the squelching sound filling in the room. Your brows knit together as you bite back your moans, the feeling being all too pleasurable.

“Do you really want me to stop?” He breathes against you. “Just tell me to stop and I will.”

Your mind races with a million thoughts a second, yet you feel blank at the same time. There’s no denying how good you feel right now, and how attracted you’ve felt towards Rafe. You always swallowed those feelings down, knowing it’s not right. But right here, right now, you don’t seem to care about anything else other than the feeling of his fingers working you.

“No, no.” You moan, your back arching. “Please don’t stop.”

He smirks, “That’s my girl.”

Next thing you know, he’s in between your legs, tongue lapping at your wetness as his fingers thrust in and out of you. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging at the strands as you buck your hips into his face while soft moans fall from your lips. You can practically feel his smirk as he pulls you closer.

“Taste so good, sound so pretty.” He coos, sucking up your juices. “Always knew you’d be a mess for me.”

You whine at his words, feeling your orgasm sneaking up on you. It doesn’t take long. His lips puckering around your clit and sucking harshly brings you over the edge. The guilt you have for letting him touch you dissipates as euphoria floods your veins. Your body convulses, legs shaking as you let go. He moans against your pussy, devouring everything you have to give him.

You’re left panting, coming down from the delicious high he gave you. He sits up, licking your remaining arousal from his lips. Scooting back up next to you, he pulls you into him once more, burying his face in your hair.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, still breathless.

“Thought you wanted to have a sleepover.” He mumbles, leaving you in a state of shock at what just took place.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

tags : @sunkissedrafe @wickedtactics @bunnycvnts @butterflyoceandreams

[spicyspiders]

old man logan part 4

1.1k words

I was going to make this angsty, but decided to make it smutty (to no one's surprise). Warning for rimming and rough/unprotected sex.

Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

“Logan,” you whine, “he’ll be back soon,” you bite into your bedspread trying to muffle your moans as Logan’s tongue flicks over your hole. 

You didn’t just need Logan out, you also needed enough time to air out your dorm room to rid the air of the stench of sex. 

“I could go faster if you’d fuckin’ relax,” Logan said before biting into the flesh of your ass cheek. You’ve grown used to his rough fingers, but still it makes you gasp to have them on your skin, especially on your hole, slick from his spit. 

“Maybe if you weren’t so rough,” you responded angrily as you moved back into his fingers. 

“Don’t you fuckin’,” he groweled, one of his hands going to the back of your neck to push you roughly down into the bed, “sass me. You want me to stop?” He whispered in your ear after blanketing his body on top of yours. 

“No,” you said into the blanket, your voice muffled. 

“Speak up!” He barked. He moved his hand to the front of your neck to pull you back into his chest, “I can’t hear you,” he said into your ear. 

“No,” you repeated louder. 

Logan’s hard cock rubbed wetly into the small of your back, smearing precum into the sweaty skin. You could sass him further by telling him he probably wasn’t able to hear you because he was the one that pushed your face into the bed, but you knew there wasn’t enough time. 

Logan chuckled before responding, “I can tell,” he says as he presses two fingers slowly inside, “you’re swallowing me right up,” he observes as his fingers slide inside. He makes a noise of bewilderment, “what’s this?” He asks as they go deeper. 

“Before you came over,” you began before your voice fell off into a moan. His two fingers gilded against your prostate, mixing in with lube already in your hole. “I-” you tried to continue, but Logan cuts you off by turning your chin to get his lips on yours. 

“Shh,” he says softly after he’s pulled away from the kiss, “you do this in the shower before I got here? You hafta hold your hand against your mouth so no one would hear?” He asks as he scissors his two fingers. 

You groan through the burn, “I couldn’t wait,” you whimpered, pushing your hips back into his fingers. 

“I can tell,” he repeats with another laugh as he adds another finger to the mix. “You’re so wet,” he says softly through the squelch of the lube. “I probably didn’t even need to lick you open,” he says to himself. 

He pulls his fingers free once he’s deemed you adequately prepared for his fat cock. He rolls you onto your back before he smears the lube along his cock, his eyes dark as they look you over. 

“Did you cum while you were in the shower?” Logan asks as he lifts your legs onto his broad shoulders. He presses his lips to yours, not even giving you the chance to answer, the head of his cock at your stretched hole. 

“Wanted to wait for you,” you gasped as he thrust slowly inside. 

Above you, Logan moaned before he ducked down to once more get his lips on yours. “So sweet,” he says against your mouth after he’s pulled away. “It almost makes me feel bad,” he says as he slowly pulls his cock free, “fucking you like this,” he finishes as he thrusts back inside. 

Your cock lays hard against your stomach, hard and neglected. Instead of reaching down to wrap your hand and stroke to the rhythm Logan sets, you wrap your hands around his neck to pull him in for another kiss. 

“I’m just the dirty old man,” Logan says after he’s broken the kiss, “fucking the sweet college boy,” he says punctuating his point with harsh thrusts. The headboard knocks against the wall, the noise ringing alongside the smack of his skin against yours. 

“Slow down,” you groan, you run your nails down his back, a hot flashing running through your body at the noise of pain and pleasure he lets out, “we’re being too loud.”

He laughs loudly as he comes to a stop, “never thought I’d hear you say those words,” he says, swiping a hand across his face. You didn’t think it was funny enough to warrant wiping away tears, but your brain was too fucked out to realize he was wiping away sweat and not tears. 

Logan leaned close, his hips circling your ass, causing his cock to rub right against your prostate. Before his lips were on yours, his voice came out soft and gravely as he spoke, “missed you,” he said, lips brushing yours. “Missed taking care of you,” he said as he reached between your sweaty bodies to wrap his hand around your cock. 

To try and muffle your moans when you cum, you kiss him once more. Logan’s tongue does little to cover the noise, but still he does his best to swallow the noises. You cum in messy spurts across his fist, right between your bodies.

Logan’s head falls to your shoulder as you clench around his cock, the man moaning at the sensation. He brings himself up on his forearms as he picks up the pace momentarily. His thrusts are stuttered and uncoordinated as you continue to milk his cock through the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

You watch with half-lidded eyes as Logan brings the hand that was just around your cock to his mouth. Your cock gives an involuntary twitch as Logan licks up the cum on his fingers. You watch his fingers disappear into his mouth, and moments later, Logan’s hips still.

It reminds you of earlier when you were in the shower as you had to use your hand to muffle your moans as you fingered yourself open. You hadn’t even been able to finish earlier after you had gotten harder faster than you expected, fearful that it would ruin your time with Logan if he had to get you hard again in the little time you had together before your roommate got back. He moans around his two fingers, his hips twitching as he cums as deep as he can inside you.

His sweaty body collapses on top of you once it’s over, the bedsprings groaning in protest at the sudden combined weight. “When’s your next break?” He asks into your neck.

You laugh breathily as you tangle a hand through the sweaty locks on the back of his head, “you’re still inside me and you’re already asking when I’ll be home so we can do this again?”

Logan pulls his softening cock free before asking the question again, “there,” he says, “happy? Now, when will you be home?” He asks, nipping at the sweaty skin closest to his mouth. 

The word home sends an emotion through your body you don’t want to think about, “next month,” you respond softly, trying to ignore it when it happens again when Logan leans into the touch of your hand in his hair.  

[thewhirlwindchronicles]

A little havoc|| Max verstappen x Fem!reader

Summary — y/n finds a little puppy so she brings its home and bonds with him only thing is she forgets to tell max

Word count — 1958

A/n I deleted this a few days ago and now I’m reposting it also if you know who “wrote”something for max very similar for this please let me know so I can talk to them.

It had started with a whimper. Y/N hadn’t meant to stop. She was just grabbing takeout from that late-night place two streets over when she heard it—quiet, pitiful, coming from the alley behind the bins. Most people would’ve ignored it.

But not her something told her to check it out and here there, curled in on himself and trembling from cold and hunger, was the tiniest black pit bull puppy she’d ever seen. His ribs were visible, his eyes dull, ears too big for his head. A broken thing. No collar. No chip. Just a heartbeat and a soft cry for help.

She hadn’t even hesitated.

She took off the flannel shirt she borrowed from Max, scooped up the puppy, and cradled him in her free arm.

“Oh you poor baby,” she said softly to the little puppy and made her way back home.

When she got home She set the bag of food on the table, walked to the bathroom, and set the puppy on the floor to get a better look at him.

Jimmy and Sassy made their way into the bathroom once they realized she was home and realized that she had something. Jimmy, being the more curious of the two, crept up on the puppy and sniffed him out with his paw, touched him, and then meowed as if to ask “What is this? And why is it in my home”, which made the little puppy let out a tiny bark.

“Oh you’re a feisty one aren’t you” she teased giving the puppy a little pat on the head.

Y/n sat on the floor assessing the puppy aside from being malnourished she noticed that he was covered in fleas and dirt. She placed the puppy into the bathtub holding on to a little laugh as she watched the puppy slip. Once she saw that he was okay she shooed the two cats out of the bathroom and closed the door. She didn’t want them to get whatever the puppy had if he had anything to worry about which reminded her that she needed to get him checked out by the vet.

Walking back to the kitchen she grabbed the bottle of Dawn dish soap from underneath the sink and made her way back to the bathroom to give the puppy a very much-needed bath.

The puppy whimpered as the lukewarm water hit his fur which was caked in mud and dirt, but he didn’t fight her just sat there, shivering and trusting, like he somehow already knew she meant well. Y/N worked gently, lathering up the dish soap and rubbing it through his thin coat, careful not to get it in his eyes. Fleas floated to the surface of the water like a miniature horror movie. She grimaced but kept going.

“You’re gonna feel so much better after this, little guy,” she murmured, rinsing the suds away with a plastic cup.

When she was done, she wrapped him in one of her softest towels, her favorite one, actually, but he didn’t need to know that. His head poked out from the folds, big eyes blinking up at her like he couldn’t quite believe his luck. She smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of his damp head.

“Welcome to the Verstappen house pup.”

Jimmy and Sassy were waiting just outside the bathroom door. Sassy gave a disapproving flick of her tail and wandered off to reclaim her perch on the windowsill. Jimmy, meanwhile, watched with open suspicion as Y/N carried the puppy into the living room and made a cozy little nest out of a spare blanket in the laundry basket.

“Temporary,” she told Jimmy, who blinked slowly and flopped down beside the basket like a tiny, furry bodyguard.

The puppy sighed, curling into the warmth of the blanket, eyes already drifting shut.

Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor beside him, pulling her forgotten takeout from the bag and digging in with one hand, the other gently resting beside the basket.

The next morning came too early. Y/N bundled the puppy in Max’s flannel again; he still smelled like rain and old cigarette smoke, but the pup didn’t seem to mind. She tucked him into the passenger seat, layering a second towel under him just in case of any accidents. Jimmy had tried to climb into her bag as she left, and Sassy had given her a look that promised revenge if she didn’t return with snacks.

The puppy was quiet the whole drive, those big dark eyes watching her like she might disappear.

“It’s just the vet, baby,” she said, glancing at him during a red light. “Promise you’re safe now.”

The clinic was quiet when she walked in, thank God. One sleepy golden retriever lounged near the front desk, and a bored-looking receptionist gave her a tired smile.

“Walk-in?”

“Yeah. Found him last night. No collar, no tags.”

The receptionist nodded. “You’re lucky we had a cancellation. Dr. Kim can see you now.”

The exam room smelled like disinfectant and dog treats. The puppy whimpered when she set him on the metal table, claws skittering on the surface. She kept a hand on him the whole time, rubbing gentle circles into his side.

Dr. Kim was young, kind-eyed, and instantly smitten.

“Oh, sweetheart,” they murmured, gently inspecting the pup. “You’ve had a rough start, huh?”

They checked his temperature, listened to his heartbeat, and checked his gums. Y/N held her breath.

“Well,” Dr. Kim said finally, “he’s malnourished, a little dehydrated, covered in fleas, and underweight—but nothing we can’t handle. No major injuries. He’s lucky you found him.”

Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“He let me bathe him last night without biting my hand off, so I figured he was tough.”

Dr. Kim chuckled. “He’s a good boy. Just scared. We’ll get him vaccinated today, start him on deworming and flea meds, and run some basic tests to be safe. If everything comes back clean, you’ve got yourself a perfectly fixable little fighter.”

“Good,” she whispered, scratching behind the pup’s ears. “Because I think I already love him.”

The puppy gave a sleepy little huff and leaned into her hand.

The ride home was quiet… deceptively so.

Y/N carried the puppy back into the apartment like he was a sacred artifact, whispering sweet things to him the whole way. “You did so good, baby. Brave little bean. We’re gonna get you some lunch and maybe a nap, okay?”

She set him down gently in his blanket nest again, expecting him to curl up and crash like before.

But oh, no.

The nap? Optional.

The second she turned her back, the puppy launched himself out of the basket with a squeaky growl and skidded across the hardwood like a fuzzy missile. Jimmy bolted up onto the counter in a panic. Sassy hissed and took off down the hall like she was late for a meeting.

“Whoa—hey! Hey!” Y/N scrambled after him as the puppy barreled into a pair of shoes, tripped over a hoodie, and proceeded to start a very intense war with a balled-up sock.

He shook it viciously, let out a growl that was more wheeze than threat, and then zoomed in a circle so fast he crashed into the couch leg and flopped onto his side with a dramatic little oof.

Y/N stared. “What the hell did they put in those vaccines?”

The puppy rolled onto his back, tongue lolling out, tail smacking the floor like a drum. Jimmy peeked down from the counter, wide-eyed. Sassy poked her head around the corner, looking like she was considering moving out.

Y/N knelt, trying not to laugh. “Okay, gremlin. You win. Do you want food?”

At the word food, the puppy leaped up and tried to scale her leg like she was a tree. She yelped and scooped him up before he could sink his baby teeth into her jeans.

“Jesus, you’re like a furry shot of espresso. Alright, alright—breakfast, it is.”

She managed to set him up with a tiny bowl of wet food. He devoured it as it owed him money. While he ate, Jimmy crept back down from the counter and slowly approached—giving Y/N a look like you sure about this? She shrugged.

The puppy looked up, face smeared with food, tail wagging.

Jimmy bopped him on the head with one paw.

The puppy wagged harder, clearly wanting to play.

The interaction between the two was cute and made her laugh.

“Okay let’s get you cleaned up so you can go back to wreaking havoc on everyone,” Y/n says looking at the puppy.

The puppy in question sat on the floor and tilted his head looking up at her. “Is that what you want? Do you want to wreak havoc on everyone?” She asked in a playful tone and the puppy began to wag his tail.

“Havoc? Is that what you want to be called?”

The puppy stood up and let out a playful bark as if he was answering her question.

“Okay, havoc it is?” She says picking up havoc so she could clean his face.

The door clicked open later that afternoon. Keys hit the counter. A familiar shuffle of feet followed by—

“Y/N.” Max’s voice was confused and tired. “There’s a dog in the hallway.”

Y/N peeked out from the kitchen, spoon in her mouth and her hoodie covered in god only knows what. “Hey, babe. Welcome home.”

He gestured down. “There’s a dog.”

Havoc stood proud between them, tail wagging like a helicopter, tongue lolling out as he stared up at Max like he was the second coming of kibble.

“I can see that,” Y/N said slowly, removing the spoon. “He, uh… found me.”

Max blinked. “Like… spiritually?”

She grinned sheepishly. “More like behind a dumpster.”

Max stared Then looked down again. Havoc barked once—sharp and happy—and pounced on the drawstring of Max’s sweatpants. Max staggered slightly as tiny teeth latched onto the fabric.

“…He’s not staying,” Max said.

Y/N crossed her arms. “He’s already had shots. And the vet said he’s gonna make a full recovery.”

Max opened his mouth to argue—but Havoc flopped onto his back at his feet, belly up, tail thumping wildly against the floor.

“You named him already didn’t you,” Max asked flatly.

“His name is…Havoc.” Y/n answered slowly.

His lips twitched up into a smirk. “Seems fitting.”

———

Two days later, Havoc was asleep on the couch, sprawled between Jimmy and Sassy like he’d always belonged. Sassy had her head resting on his tiny back; Jimmy was curled protectively around his hind legs. Max walked into the living room with coffee, took one look at the domestic chaos, and just sighed.

Y/N came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Told you he grows on you.”

“I’m still mad,” Max grumbled, though he reached down to scratch behind Havoc’s ears when the puppy blinked sleepily up at him. “He chewed my Monaco cap.”

“He’s teething,” she said sweetly.

“He stole my sock yesterday.”

“He likes you.”

Max rolled his eyes but didn’t push her away when she nuzzled into his back. “You’re lucky he’s cute.”

“You mean we’re lucky.”

They both looked over at the tangled mess of fur on the couch. Jimmy yawned. Sassy flicked her tail. Havoc made a sleepy little snort and kicked Jimmy in the face, which earned him a headbutt and a soft mewl.

Max sighed again, but this time, it sounded like a smile.

“…I’m still naming our next pet.”

“Fine,” she said. “But I get veto if you name it after another club”

[justwinginglife]

Can I please request Soshiro using Weapon 10 for the first time in front of his secret girlfriend (that is also in the Defense Force) and the kaiju read his thought and announces the secret to everyone to hear?

Wingman

Soshiro was stuck in place. Like actually, physically rooted to the ground.

He had been ready for a fight, ready to use his secret weapon, ready to clean up the battlefield in a few minutes flat and be home at a decent enough time to cook you dinner.

But 10 was not having it.

The second that Soshiro had synced with him, all his little secrets went flooding into 10's consciousness. Including the one where he was dating you, which was a secret to the entire Defense Force, and the one where he wanted to propose to you, which was a secret to you.

Soshiro had desperately wanted to show off in front of you, show you what he was capable of in this suit, show you just how much he could protect you, but 10 didn't give a flying fuck what Soshiro wanted.

10 wanted to tell everyone that you belonged to Soshiro. 10 wanted Soshiro to propose to you now, in the middle of a battlefield. And the fact that Soshiro kept the engagement ring on him always in case he found the perfect moment to propose did not help the matter. 10 did not care about the perfect moment, 10 was all about the now.

And it didn't help that when Soshiro had first put on the suit, you had complimented how attractive he looked. 10 took full credit for that compliment and he immediately began liking you. If he could not do this one thing for you, if he could not get Soshiro to steel his nerves and ask you the damn question already, he would have failed you. He would have no honor as a Kaiju.

So there you were, in the middle of a fight, guns blazing, organs flying, and suddenly you noticed Soshiro dropping to his knees, planting them firmly on the bloodied ground. You run over to him, concerned that he might have injured himself.

"Sosh- Vice Captain! Are you... are you okay??"

His face is pained and he's gritting his teeth but you can't find a single injury on him.

"What's wrong, what's going on?"

His head snaps up to you, the movement sudden and seemingly against his will. He bites his lip so much it bleeds and you take a sleeve and start to dab at it worriedly.

"This... this is not... how I wanted... to do this." The words come out strained as his trembling arm reaches for his pocket. He yanks his arm back with his other hand but it's to no avail.

"Do what?" You're starting to get more anxious, wondering why your boyfriend is acting so strange, especially in the most dangerous of places.

You shoot another kaiju away from him as he pulls something out of his pocket.

"I... fuck... fuck, fine. I know, I know, shut up, I'm getting to it. Baby, I love you. This is absolutely not how I wanted to do this, I wanted to be significantly more romantic, but this fuckhead won't let me leave this spot until I do this. So please, love of my life, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me? Feel free to say no so that I can propose again in a better place at a better time."

Your eyes widen as he flicks open a ring box and gazes up at you, waiting for your answer.

Then you start laughing. "I think this was the most perfect proposal ever, I'll definitely never forget it now."

He blushes but he lets you continue.

"Yes, baby, I will marry you. There's no doubt about that, there was never any doubt about that. I'll marry the hell out of you. Now please, 10, will you let my fiancee up so I can kiss him?"

You shoot another kaiju out of the way as 10 allows Soshiro to pull himself to his feet.

Finally in control of his own limbs, he pulls you to him, sliding the ring on your finger before devouring your lips in a passionate kiss.

All at once, your comms start to blow up with the voices of your fellow officers ringing loudly in your ears; the thing you hear the most is, "WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED? DID YALL JUST GET ENGAGED IN THE MIDDLE OF A FUCKING BATTLE?"

Soshiro face palms.

"I'm gonna kill 10."

[didishawn]

hey! Can you make one which reader and Pedri are at the canary's island, sharing the bedroom with Fer for some reason, but Pedri is feeling like doing something, and Fer there doesn't stop them, and they do it, and it's hard for reader be quiet, and next morning when they wake up and go down to breakfast, Fer asks if they sleep okay and smirks, playing with Pedri

Islas Canarias (Pedri x reader) smut

Warnings: +18, smut, a bit of voyeurism, poor Fer, lots of Spanish

Masterlist

"Mami, ¿como que le has dado mi habitación al tío?" (Mom, what's that about you giving my room to my uncle?)

"El pobre necesita su espacio, Pedro, la casa ya está muy llena y él es nuestro invitado" (the poor boy needs his own space, Pedro, the house is too full and he is our guest?)

"Y/n también es nuestra invitada y la quieres poner en el colchon de Fer" (y/n is also out guest and you want her sleeping on Fer's mattress)

"Esa ya no cuela, Pepi, ella ya es familia" (that won't work, Pepi, she is family already)

From your spot on the coach, you can see your boyfriend's pout to talk his mom out of sleeping in the floor.

It's unusual for Flick to give so many free days, so from the moments him and the rest got the green light for the break, Pedri had already picked you up and put you both on a flight back home.

What he didn't know-more like completely forgot about it-was the fact that not only him happened to have some free days, so you two got quite the surprise when you arrived to his parents house and were greeted by half his family already staying over.

You can hear your brother in law snickering next to you on the coach at the little drama scene taking place on the kitchen, and you can't help but chuckle too.

Honestly, you didn't find the whole ordeal yo be that bad, the three of you have had sleepovers since you met Pedri all those years back in primary school.

Of course, this would ve the first sleepover with the Gonzalez brothers since you started dating Pedri three years ago.

"¿Debería bajar al chino a por algo para picar, o crees que tu noviecito estará muy ocupado haciendo pucheros como para ver una película?" (Should I go down to the grocery shop to pick up some snacks, or you think your boyfriend will be too busy pouting to watch a movie?)

"Yo más bien me preocuparia con que no se le ocurra echarte con golpes de almohada de la habitación" (if I were you, I would be more worried about him kicking you out of the room by hitting you with the pillow)

"Si hombre, lo que me faltaba, encima que os tengo que aguantar" Pedri drops down with his head on your lap in the coach, pouting at having completely lost the fight against his mom. "Ni se os ocurra hacer guarrerias conmigo ahí durmiendo, que te juro que me chivo a mami" (yeah right, just what I needed when I already have to stand the two of you...you better not do any dirty stuff with me sleeping there, because I swear I will tell mom)

"Mira, calla que te echo del cuarto" (look, shut up or I will kick you out of the room)

Fer ignores his brother, happily grinning. "Esto es karma por todo lo que os tengo que aguantar en Barcelona" (this is karma for all the things the two of you make me endure in Barcelona)

Your boyfriend only goes on to pout harder and you can feel these couple of days will be very long.

It's not like the mattress is uncomfortable itt's ok, really. And Fer surprisingly doesn't snore that loudly anymore.

Still, you can't sleep, and it's all your boyfriend's fault.

His kisses on your neck are hot and he has a hard grip on your waist, his boner pressed tightly against your ass.

"Pedri, Fer se va a despertar" you whisper as quietly as possible, trying to stop the moans forming on your throat from coming out.

He shakes his head, mumbling against your skin. "Que va, si ese no se entera de nada" he kisses your ear, leaning forward to whisper into it. "Venga, por favor, te prometo que solo será la punta, pero de verdad no aguanto" (no, he never notices anything...come on, please, I promise it will only be the tip, I really can't handle it)

"Tú y yo sabemos que nunca es solo la punta" (you and I know it's never just the tip)

"Te juro que sí, ya verás" (I promise it will be, you will see)

You sigh, and as much as you love to play hard to get, from the moment you felt him pressing against you, you knew what would go down.

You reach down to your shorts and underwear, pulling them down as you leave him some space to settle between your legs, still, your back faces him. You feel him pull down his too, and can feel his hot cock pressing against your ass cheeks. A hand of his picks up your leg, separating them as his tip starts teasing your entrance.

"Tenemos que estar callados, que luego Fer nos echa la bronca" he mumbles, and you nod. (We have to be quiet, because if not Fer will scold us)

He presses inside you, and incredibly, true to his word he only puts the tip inside, a hand of his sneaks to your front, rubbing your clit and his head pushing back when he feels you squeeze him at the stimulation.

The pace is slow, still you have to bite your lips to keep yourself from making any noise. By the sounds coming off his throat, he too is having difficulty keeping quiet, even if just the tip.

It's not enough, and you both know it, but when you turn around and see the smug look on his face, you can tell he is waiting for you to beg.

No way.

You start to move your hips too, but don't take in any more, you want him to suffer, give in before you do. His grip on your hips tightens, almost as if trying to take the control from you, but you don't let him, squeezing tighter making him groan.

"Joder, no estás jugando limpio" he groans, you can hear his pants, can tell he is just about to give in. (Fuck, you are not playing fair)

You just didn't expect for him to give in so quickly, ramming his whole cock inside you in one go as his hand goes on to cover your mouth to stop the grand moan you let out.

He seems to forget there is another person in the room -and honestly, so do you. His hips are know moving against yours in an almost punishing pace, he bites into his lips as to stop from moaning out.

You can already feel yourself nearing the extasis, he is in so deep inside you stretching you out so good. He rubs circles into your clit, making you basically see white as you cum around him.

He is not that far behind, painting your walls white as he cums deeply inside you. The both of you are panting messes, and only care about putting on your clothes again, quickly falling asleep and completely forgetting about the mess you created.

You hope he doesn't notice it-because you know he will bully you for it, bit you can barely walk as the two of you walk around the kitchen grabbing something quick to eat before going out.

Steps come down the stairs, and Fer's expression is not one he likes as he comes in stupidly grinning.

Pedri doesn't notice, but he watches over the two of you unashamedly, and you can already tell he knows, but Pedri doesn't.

"¿Pasa, mano?" he greets, going up to make their special handshake when Fer refuses. (What's up, bro?)

It's honestly kind of funny and flattering how yesterday's pouting is all gone just because you fucked.

Fer raises an eyebrow at Pedri, not taking his hand and leaving his younger brother confused.

"Ni de coña te toco la mano sabiendo lo que hacía anoche, sinvergüenza" (no way am I touching your hands knowing what it did during the night, shameful)

Pedri just grins, bit you could as well die as you turn Red.

Pedri's grin instantly goes away when you announce him of the sex ban for the next two weeks just because of this.

[l-starsz]

Your walking in the forest and stumble upon a fairy with the most persuading voice she hands you a paper with this https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT2uvMmqR/ written on it she said she'd give you fairy dust if you write a fic about this what do you do

Take the paper and say yes (correct answer)

Say no and flick her into the abyss (wrong answer and she'll curse you) 🧚🏾‍♀️

a/n: not looking to get cursed today, i want my fairy dust!! funnily enough the day this request was sent i doodled stuff in my notebook and labelled it ‘fairy dust’?? anywayyy this was so good to write i’m actually obsessed with that video

our hands were all over eachother. messily kissing and not even bothering to pull away for air. we were desperate for eachother. it’d been a while since i’d seen billie, since she’d been on tour and i couldn’t go with her because i had things i needed to do, but i was finally able to fly out to her. and that’s what led to this. the first day we’d seen eachother in around a month and a half.

she had to go on stage in around 20 minutes, but in the moment, this felt more important. i was leaning back against the wall with billies body pressed up against mine. slight whimpers left my mouth when her kisses trailed down to my neck.

“need you so bad. please baby..” i whispered out.

“i’ve got you pretty girl.” she smiled, kissing my lips once more before letting her hands grab at my sweats.

she didn’t pull them down, just slid her hand underneath them, and my underwear, immediately finding my clit. she ran her fingers over it slightly, and then made her way to where i was soaked. i heard her gasp slightly, not expecting me to be this wet. i let out a slight whine, burying my face in her neck and moving my hands to her shoulders.

“please bil.. i need you.” i mumbled, getting slightly frustrated.

“alright angel, but we have to be quiet, just for a little bit, okay?” she spoke in a tone that made me even more whiny.

i nodded as quick as i could, pushing my hips a tiny bit closer to her before i felt her fingers glide back up to my clit. i immediately let out a moan, partially from her words, but also because of how sensitive i’d become.

“what did i say angel?” i heard her speak as she stopped her movements (not that she was doing much anyway, but i was just so sensitive that i could barely handle the slightest touch).

i let out a breathy moan, moving my hips to try to get to to keep going. but she wouldn’t. i knew what she wanted.

“to.. fuck- to be quiet.”

“that’s right, baby. don’t want to get caught.” she spoke lowly, before continuing what she was doing.

i tried so hard to hold back my noises, knowing that she wouldn’t carry on if i didn’t listen to her. it was so difficult, though. it had been too long without her, or her touch. it wasn’t long at all before her middle and ring fingers were pushing inside me. it definitely wasn’t difficult for her to get them inside me, considering how wet i was.

i immediately tightened around them. my back arched at how good it felt, and my breath hitched. she started off slow, making sure she found the right spot to have me almost sobbing for her, before she sped up. the only noises heard in the room was the wet sound coming from my pussy, and my breathy moans. quiet whispers were exchanged between kisses every so often, and i was doing everything i could to keep quiet.

“you’ve got this, pretty. you’re doing so well. being such a good girl for me.” her voice was soft in my ear.

my knees buckled, so billies free hand found my waist, holding me close so that i wouldn’t fall. her body was still pressed up against mine as she left wet kisses down my neck. the feeling of her all over me sent me to the edge of my orgasm, i wasn’t quite there yet, but i definitely wasn’t far. and of course, billie could tell. she knew me too well. her thumb found my clit, and her fingers continued moving at a steady pace inside me.

her voice in my ear was enough to push me over the edge.

“you look so perfect like this. let go for me pretty girl, i’ve got you.”

i almost collapsed to the floor, but billies body against mine kept me up, whilst her hand moved to cover my mouth. i let out loud moans, and obviously her hand wasn’t enough to keep my quiet, so she shifted again. i was finishing over her hand, whilst her other hand moved back to my waist to keep me standing, and her lips pressed against mine to make sure i stayed quiet.

my eyes were squeezed shut as tight as possible, and my body was limp against billies, knowing that if she let go i’d fall right to the floor because of how weak my legs were. i let out small whines into her mouth as she continued working me through my orgasm, and my hips were bucking against her.

“there you go, being so good cumming for me.”

“don’t stop billie.. please don’t stop.” my voice was breathy.

“i’m not stopping, love. going to take good care of you, i promise.”

when i finally came down, my head ended up buried in billies neck whilst i let out heavy breaths and slight breathy moans from the feeling of her fingers still inside me. she was whispering praises into my ear as i had my arms draped over her shoulders, slightly gripping onto her shirt still.

“i missed you so much, baby.” she spoke quietly.

“i missed you more, my love.” i whispered, allowing her to pick me up and take me into the bathroom.

she set me on the counter as she cleaned me up, taking it slow even though we both know she only had a few minutes before she had to be on stage. when i was cleaned and dressed again, and we were both presentable, we headed towards the stage, acting as if nothing had happened minutes before.

i watched from backstage as billie performed. she looked so perfect on stage, she looked so perfect all the time. after a little bit, she was getting ready to sing the backing vocals for ‘when the party’s over’, and she was telling the crowd they needed to be quiet. and that was when i heard it.

“we have to be quiet, just for a little bit, okay?”

at first i wondered why it sounded familiar, but then i realised. the exact same words she’d said to me not long before. she definitely did that on purpose.

[capslocked]

KINKVEMBER DAY: 1

[prompt: against a wall window]

male reader x huh yunjin

5k words

You're not entirely sure where the jacket to your suit has gone.

You know you should know; it’s a rental and you need to return it in a week. But Yunjin told you to take it off, and since then, things have been... a little hazy.

More concerning - or it would be, had Yunjin not also lost some part of her attire - is what her thumbs are hooked into. Like she's peeling out the silhouette to her skin-tight, backless dress - the way she can't keep from leaning against the elevator wall. Your lips have the taste of her red lipstick all over, and her body melts with every little flick of the tip of her tongue against yours, puddles that much further when she feels your fingers curling into the folds of that skin-tight black material.

The motion to push the fabric up and over the rise of her hips is a purposeful kind of thing.

For the past hour, her skirt kept brushing over the fabric of your pants while you went from shaking hands to kissing hands to her placing yours on the hem of her dress, in the quiet space of a balcony the hotel staff had clearly marked as off-limits. A kiss behind the shell of her ear, a suggestion, a shiver.

Now, things are happening in a sort of reverse: from slow and curious, to needing more and wanting less, and suddenly, neither of you want to wait - until her thighs are spread wide apart, with your free hand slid over her smooth thigh, fingers skirting the edges of her lace, cupped over her heat - right, there. The throbbing.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me," is what she's asking.

"Something awful," you reply, but there's only a gasp out of her throat to prove your point. No words.

Just the look: desire clouding over the expression. The not-so-subtle display of want, need. Tongue pressing to lips and tugging along the corner. A moan, two, quieted behind the knuckle she can't quite help putting in her mouth.

You consider shoving her panties down the curve of her thighs and spinning her around - leaving her arms to brace the railing and keeping the dress around her waist while you fuck. Quick, rough.

The mental image is too nice to let it go.

You consider how much she might genuinely prefer to that to whatever she'd had in mind when she suggested you really ought see the view of the city from her room - oh, the skyline, it's gorgeous, she offered, lips tugged into a perfectly practiced little quirk that said: the view of me, on all fours, face down into a mattress as my ass swallows down your cock - I can't wait to have you.

You can feel the thought concrete itself to the base of your skull when you roll the flat of your finger over her clit and start sliding up and down between the lips of her pussy - finding her a little wet already, dripping onto the fabric in the most obvious way. When the elevator stops a few floors shy, you try to play it off by squeezing at her rib cage and tugging the fabric back in place, hiding the tell-tale lines between the fabric, just as Yunjin starts that gentle laugh from the very base of her spine. A real beautiful timbre in its sound.

But things get more muddled, admittedly, when the doors ding and the group on the other side piles through.

There's an exchange of glances, where they're asking if this is allowed, is there enough room, can they make room. One of them, in a dizzyingly plunging, strapless blue number that has you pressing your palm into the small of Yunjin's back just a little more than you have been up to that point, considers, carefully.

"Yunjin," she says, fingers brushing through the fringe of a smart-chic bob, prim cut of jet-black hair.

Yunjin shifts her weight onto the other heel. "Chaewon."

"By the looks of it," she says, and the way she looks you over has all the judgmental verve of an older sister, a real cold stare. "You've got a I'll-be-staying-in-tonight kind of vibe."

A deeper laugh now, rolling out across the backs of her teeth. "If it's all the same to you," is what you hear from her, "it'll be an early night for me."

“Don’t make it a habit,” she tells Yunjin.

“We’re just going to go enjoy the view.”

“Yeah.” Chaewon gives you one final, disapproving expression. “I bet he will.”

The elevator isn't totally silent, not for the subtle hum and whir of machinery. But everything is a lot closer now. Especially your thoughts, the way Yunjin pulls herself closer against you by a hand on the back of your dress shirt - her fingernails mapping the ridge of your spine, finding your hip bone, thumb curving back and forth against the curve of it.

The four girls at the corner are just making chatter in their corner of the lift. They've got a reservation - in name, anyway. If things were as simple as getting from the hotel to the elevator and beyond, no need for the next forty floors to pass at a snail's pace.

In fact, the four have this sort of tense, concentrated way to them that suggests otherwise - like maybe they came all this way and made that sort of promise to have the whole night end the way some things ought: alone.

"Don't stop on account of us," one of them says after a while.

Which is enough to set off this glare into the furl of Yunjin’s brows. Not her friend's intention. But they laugh it off.

When the doors scuttle open, finally, the two of you stumble out, feet not catching up to the rest of you before Yunjin has her fingers around your wrist and drags you out. Her heels - red-bottomed and not entirely flat but definitely a lot less heel-ey than others (she’s tall, she says, it makes her self-conscious), are clacking quick across marble tile until she arrives at the door of her room, pulls her keycard out of her clutch and leans shoulder-first into the door after the click and whir of entry.

She takes a step backward.

The door locks at your back when it's kicked into its frame.

The first thing you notice is her dress: pooled on the floor around the arches of her heels, cast off like a cloak or some overcoat - to be tossed aside once the sun goes down.

"Make a habit out of this, huh?" you ask in an effort to keep yourself busy - gawking's never been a good look on anyone, even with your natural gifts, the glint in your smile, all your charm - but the curves of her body are stunning, curves that start where her thighs begin, wrap around her hips, cut in at her waist, bloom from the perfectly-small-breasts that now are showing their dusky pink nipples, firm and on full display.

All of Yunjin, like this, beneath pale moonlight pouring diffuse through the fish-bowl-glass of her hotel room, is nothing short of an invitation.

A good look, is what you're about to say if you don't come up with anything else.

"You do this kind of thing often?"

"What's that," Yunjin says over the sharp line of a grin.

"What I mean to say is: I hadn't pegged you for the," and you gesture, rather elegantly, with the flop of your wrist, "lure-some-poor-sap-away-from-a-party-and-take-advantage kind of type," before managing something like a genuine laugh. "Not to knock that lifestyle or anything."

"There's not a thing in the world you know about me," is what she offers. Which is, unsurprisingly, totally true, and slightly unfair.

Yunjin is walking toward you while you consider it.

Drifting when she comes around. It's that close. You can smell the warmth of her skin, a whiff of that vanilla, an infuriating softness - the room is dark, but the moon is bright and the city is glowing, reflecting its light and the various hues from neon signs below, outside, until Yunjin stops, standing right in front of you, just, waiting.

Then, the steady rise of an eyebrow that, for a second, feels like a challenge.

“So," you kiss into her lips, and that's the first. "Let me know you."

The second is when her hands slip up and over the back of your neck and you can't keep from reaching for her sides, pulling her closer. Her hips and ass and those fucking gorgeous, full, legs that can't decide which direction to take - until she's pressed, warm, soft, and perfect against your body, and she's sighing this sigh, heavy, a moan.

The third time, she's licking into your mouth, tongue rolling in and around the taste of your own.

"Too many clothes," she murmurs, and you can feel the pull at your half-undone bowtie, the collar to your dress shirt. She's working the buttons off their slots with deft, clever fingers.

"That's what happens when I'm trying to look sharp."

"Sharp, and hot."

"Is it working?"

Her eyes are as dark as the hair framing the smile that plays at the edge of her mouth. "I'm taking your clothes off, aren't I?"

"Mm," you reply, a smirk of your own. Pressed right into her jaw, her neck, the column of her throat, where she tastes sweet and salty. Like the sea and the night. Before you can even ask, with your fingers teasing the elastic of her underwear, I'm guessing you want me to do the same.

Yunjin makes a sound like, mm-hm.

The hotel room is quite standard, which is to say, nice. But, for what it is, it's not too fancy. There's a large, king-size bed with the crispest sheets you've ever felt. A little kitchenette. Some counter space and a fridge. A TV hanging opposite the bed, with an armchair and a love-seat positioned to face the screen.

"Do you want me to tell you what to do?" Yunjin asks, and her voice is low. Almost a husk, a whisper.

"What did you have in mind?" you say to her, and there's a hand on the nape of your neck, a fist of soft, slender fingers wrapping the length of your cock.

"You're going to fuck me until I'm cumming on your cock. You'll get me on my knees, first, though."

"That's the plan?"

"Unless you have another." Yunjin grins, a smile so full and bright and genuine. You don't know anything beyond her name and the perfectly sculpted curve of her ass. She could be anyone, an actress, a singer, a model. A girl-next-door. A friend of a friend.

She could be yours.

And in a way, when she's on her knees, her mouth hot and tight around the shape of your cock, those fucking lips pressed into the base of it, sliding easy with the spit she leaves on your shaft, that's exactly what you tell her.

"Yunjin," is all you're saying, a sigh, a hiss. You're helping her get your pants off the ends of your feet while your cock is lathered and bathed in her spit, feeling her slender fingers pull up and down your shaft. "That feels so fucking good, baby. Just like that." It's fast, sloppy, she's taking you in and out of her hot mouth like it's the most natural thing in the world. A slurp, a cough, and she's completely unfettered, sucking down and swallowing another breath - not to mention all that about her tongue. A swirl over the head of your cock and you show how much you like it, letting her read the bite into your lip, inventorying every little wince through your brow.

But see - you have your fingers in her hair, holding the strands away from her face. Away from where Yunjin's eyes are breathtaking and glittering, blinking back up under upturned brows, looking up at you from where she's taking you into the hot wet of her mouth, inch-by-inch. And the part of you, this cruel, twisting sensation, would hate for her to think anything of your hands - how they're at the top of her head, cradled behind, and easing her forward, the head of your cock teasing the roof of her mouth.

The back of her mouth.

The back of her throat.

Fuck, her eyes go wide. She's good. She takes it.

And just from the pretty look she keeps on her face, Yunjin loves it. Loves to be pushed, loves to have her hands running along the ridge of your thigh until her fingers are prying the very bottom, the underside, your balls. Like this, with her kneeling down between your legs, the flexing muscle of her upper arms to her palms squeezed tight on either cheek of your ass, where the heat starts to stir deep - to pull. Bring the full length of you to the back of her throat.

The choked sound from deep in her chest should surprise you.

And for the shortest moment, you're holding still and forcing her head, your hands keeping her perfectly put: just there, right there. Exactly like that - where she could look like the perfect mess and feel a twitch right between those lips that keep asking so kindly, go ahead, fuck a load of cum down my throat, baby, use these lips - the soft swell of these lips until you're cumming for me.

Or something else along those lines.

The thought of it crosses your mind: cum spilling from the corner of her mouth as she tries to take everything you have. The flutter in her throat wringing it all down. The mess that all would make. Not that she isn’t already a perfect sight.

You tug on her hair again.

Yunjin's eyes sparkle.

Her eyelashes go a little droopy, hazy. Dark.

And she starts humming across this wistful note of a sigh as her lips start slipping over your shaft - dragging in that slow, agonizing, blissful way over everywhere sensitive and aching. Taking her time, while one hand goes up and strokes what her mouth can't touch, while you pull her head, those perfect strands, just a touch further down, because if she can't quite deep-throat you then Yunjin can give a goddamn masterful impression.

Her cheeks hollow, and the suction - god.

You could cum right in between the pretty little pout of her lips, over the flat of her tongue. Right down her throat.

But in a turn of events neither of you anticipate, you don't do it; you are, much like anyone else, not without limits. Which is probably how you end up lifting Yunjin back up by the underside of her elbows, asking, "that feels a little one-sided, no?"

It's only fair to pull a smirk, kiss, all the best tricks - all for the best parts of her, full, curving, down from her neck, shoulders, her arms, the palms of her hands, every part of her: that perfect shade of peach, pink. From there, everything else falls away. The slow way Yunjin sneaks away with the kind of saunter you'd expect, hips swaying all the way up, sashaying out this inviting side-to-side before you realize it's working -

And you're asking, "Yunjin?" then telling, "I want you up against that window."

The sun's long set - but it'll come up soon enough, over the edges of skyscraper-blocks and shining up out from the base, until everything is bright and gleaming.

"Which window?" she teases.

So you swat at her ass. A not-so-delicate slap. "I don't care so long as I fuck you into it."

"And if someone sees?" she laughs out, still intent on teasing you, and the small edge in her voice is some combination of excitement and worry.

"Then we better give them something worth seeing."

Yunjin's palms land flush to the glass, fingers spread out - wide, wanting, willing - where the blue, yellow glow of city lights shines in over the curves of her profile, the slope of her cheek, the bright pools her irises turn under the warmth. She's the only thing worth seeing, and there's nothing that could possibly stop you from needing, wanting more, right now.

There's no other explanation. No other reason, really, to explain how you're desperate: to fill her, bury yourself inside her - to where you're promising, coming up behind her and guiding her over - so you can spread those creamy thighs apart, push her shoulders up against the cold surface of the window. Where she'll catch a view of her reflection staring back at her: beautiful, exposed, and hers.

"I'm going to fuck you now," is exactly what she's been begging you to say, is why she ends up feeling, with the deep, twisting need building somewhere, how you'll work your cock so deep into her wanting cunt that the only thing that makes her legs go weak - wobbling, really - is the promise of cock rubbing so close and teasing the slick folds between her legs. Until she's a little more demanding, needy - and fuck, where is all the foreplay you'd promised earlier? That perfect, thick cock of yours is missing. She knows what all this really needs.

"Yeah? You need me here?" and she gets this whine, a little pathetic, but in the cutest way.

Yunjin turns her eyes to you, over her shoulder, just the faintest bit of a sneer. 

Because she needs it, right now - rough, quick, good. 

A gasp catches in her throat when you drag your cockhead through her wet heat, once, twice, and the slide of it against her clit becomes the only thing that matters in the entire goddamn world. 

"Inside," her teeth are clamping hard on her lip now, holding it from trembling as she tries to put words together, "Put," is where she loses focus and you're sucking, and kissing, and biting at her shoulder, "put, fuck. Please, put your, put - that cock of yours in my-" You slip into her hot-soaking-wet cunt, and after you've clenched a fist and brought a palm to the center of the window, so that you could open up your body around her a little easier, her muscles squeeze and grip and milk the first few strokes so tight. So-fucking-good.

There's not even a word for it, how she fit like a glove around the first thrust, but if the expression on your face says anything, it's everything Yunjin wanted and more: the shape, the angle, how you're pressing your fingers so hard into the impossible geometry of her waist, the round of her ass - oh, she’ll be a mess of red marks, shapes and lines, reminders of how good you fucked her - these long deep strokes in and out of her creaming pussy - evidence left where the heat inside her builds and pools.

And god, Yunjin is so, so easy to fuck: you can pound into her as rough and steady and fast as she'd begged - there with your other hand, pulling hard, hard, at the loose, dark locks of her hair. Where it has Yunjin gasping, moaning, the whole nine. She has to look to find her balance - and meets the two silhouettes framed inside the reflection on the window. Two shapes, lost in the blurred shadow and outline of lights outside the hotel window, behind which the whole city and its crowds might have stopped the way they'd started, with the rest of you caught between these strange moments:

First, the mindfulness. The purpose and meaning in movement, sensation. In being alive and young, hot, gorgeous and dumb as you can afford to be be.

Yunjin's murmuring, "right there, I want you," or telling, or begging, "don't, you have no idea, I, no-" until your body presses flush up against hers, hips rocking into her perfect figure - taking you like she was built for it, and everything feels so much tighter now, so much closer. Her palms and cheek against the glass, her knees are all shaking and ready to fold at any moment. "So deep, fuck. Fuck me right there, just like that."

Then as you suppose, the unbridled lust on display: Yunjin's turned to this kind of abandon - she's swearing out loud, saying things that have no name and very little form until you've dragged the roughness of your fingers all over her body and found she needs a palmprint on her inner thighs, her ass. That she's whimpering with every deeper plunge until, finally, she gets what she's after - and the words are falling out of her mouth. All it does is mean nothing now - whatever you've been waiting to hear, the pleas to fuck her harder, the cocksleeve talk, or any other request or order.

It's a small miracle, really, considering how she'd gotten you throbbing and aching with just the press of her lips and the dangerous little curl of her tongue - the tight heat all in the back of her throat - but Yunjin cums first.

Loudly. 

Messily, too, as she rides out the feeling - tightness gathering right into her core. But her head, it's in the clouds and a little far away, the skyline bathing her skin in shades of glittering silver and gold. And god, the heat of her tight, twitching, soaked pussy - pulsing around the thrusting curve of your cock: the sublime kind of place, spot, rhythm.

How her arms give out and she's pressed, flushed, back to chest with you, right there. Her words are soft. Wholly unimaginative: yes and fuck, yes and oh, she wants you, loves how well you fuck. The murmur comes from that gorgeous body of hers, the exact shape of everything that feels good to feel. The jut of her hips and her legs are longer than her height suggests they'd be, flawless from the ankle and foot to her thigh to where your arm wraps around the base of her ribs, hugging her from the back.

It's a perfect fit.

And not in the glass-slipper kind of way that means there is such a thing as a soulmate, no.

"Cum in me," she breathes, and then - all over. That's it. The moment your fingers are splayed back out over the pane of window, she can't hold her gaze steady. Those tears prick up at the corner, where they get caught. Where her voice is too high and pitchy - begging, a whining noise and some syllable. Something inaudible that has pressing these hot, open-mouthed kisses right into the pretty rise-and-falls of her spine. The sloppy-wet sound from your cock slipping back in, and back again, until you're just left fucking these little ragged breathes out of her chest.

The space between her lips and the glass, the white-ghosting breaths of air out between those plump little pouts that have shaped and molded themselves into some version of words, a few half-finished pleads: “kiss, hold, fill, fuck, just," and, "my body, love-

"Your fucking pussy, Yunjin, holy shit, it's - fucking - so, god," you all but growl out.

Pounding into the tight clench of her cunt.

The bed in the other room might be the better choice, the sheets and pillows for more support than the hard wall she's propped against. But the glass, to see the view and take her up against it: it feels nice, cool and comfortable, even when your motion makes it fogged and sticky with condensation. She had, when your first thrust pushed inside the molten heat of her pussy, reached around the corner - fingertips splaying wide apart, up, along the foggy pane, watching the shadow of her palms turn blurry and indistinguishable against the soft glow of neon beyond.

"I'm cumming," you tell her, "I'm cumming - fuck," before shoving her body even further into the glass. Fucking her hard - just short of bending her to the point of where she might break.

That last stroke or two goes a little wild; all that coiled and pressurized want and need, boiling over the moment you fuck your cum deep into her trembling body. This time, your sounds aren't just the thoughtless hum and groan from the depth of your lungs, but some collection of dirty words, grunts. Nasty things. A whole host of obscenities: like how it's for the sake of claiming, leaving something of yourself behind. How you're pulling the smooth, curve of her hips into your body to push as much of yourself inside the gripping warmth of her. How your hot cum is starting to spill from her pink, perfect, hole - all for the better because when you take your thumb and swirl and trace and smear all along her slippery-wet slick, she gets like this: squirming in these lazy, needy little wriggles against your touch.

It takes the two of you sometime longer to move. Not long, but, you know, a little while.

When it is that Yunjin comes back to herself, you feel the smile as the ghost over your arm.

The kind of thing to ask, though you're too fucked to pay attention, are questions about life: where do you go to school, how long will you stay? All of that. There's a quiet moment where your mind plays back, vaguely, a little more intensely, the realization - and regret of it, the waste - of fucking a stranger for a night.

And in a real short moment:

"That was - really good," she says, still not recovered quite enough to walk.

Yunjin sounds all that same: a stranger. Not familiar. That's, like, your last chance or whatever. Before this becomes a one-off.

("Stay for a while?" is what she doesn't manage to ever ask.)

"Have to leave early tomorrow." And she looks at you, shoulders dipping at the ends. She says things like: "my work," and "we have an international flight. Customs is a bitch."

"Oh," is what you say to all that, looking her body over again, drinking down all the small details of her. The ones you'll lose forever after tonight. All of them, you know.

All because that's how it had to be, from the start.

"For sure."

Yunjin's hands are twisting at the end of her hair, stroking and brushing through the silky, black strands. Just for something to do: maybe, optimistically to keep herself occupied with some semblance of a thought that has nothing at all to do with how she can't seem to shake this sudden, cresting wave of frustration - how there's an urgent throb from deep within, pushing into her skin like a force.

You swallow. Try to smile. "It was fun."

-

The hotel's checkout desk is staffed by a cheerful looking man, almost fresh out of high-school. Too cheerful a smile, perhaps, and maybe a little too bright for the time of day. You'd been busy pacing the lobby, trying not to stare at your phone for the third or fourth time since stepping out of the elevator. Your feet have scuffed the ground under the coffee table, around the floral couches - almost tripping over the boutiques lined in the middle of this path. Likely you'd have considered them if you weren't focused elsewhere.

Thinking about how you'd put off any discussion about piecing back together your rental suit.

"Did you have a good stay, sir?" the concierge asks, reaching out across his desk to pick up a card. He's placing a machine in front of him.

Your face warms ever-so-slightly. "Wonderful."

"That's what we like to hear. Just swipe your key here."

The machine's screen flashes and there's another cheerful beep, indicating everything was processed.

"Could you get me my receipt?"

"Absolutely. One second."

And the printer whirs to life: spitting out line-after-line of printed data. Until there are twelve characters of nonsense and garbage, including but not limited to the link to a questionnaire and an explanation for all the boxes marked 'x'. It also indicates your total costs (minimal, really) and lists a detailed breakdown of services: breakfast, in-room bar, laundry, towels - all the necessities.

"There, would you like- wait. Sir? Someone asked me to hand this to you," and after reaching under the desk, "looks like a suit jacket of sorts."

"Oh."

He raises an eyebrow. "From the event, I'm assuming."

It's hard to tell what it's about. But as you wrap your fingers into the cloth of the fabric, tug at it a bit, there's a note that slips and falls to the floor.

You sort of frown, skeptical. Fumble with the note. And the note says this:

In your absence, I helped myself to your jacket, your wallet, an extra serving of breakfast, as well as a large iced-coffee. Promise you I'll get the next one. Call me: (xxx)-xxx-xxxx.

Affectionately, your (girl)friend for an evening,

Huh Yunjin

[diejager]

JAKAJWIH I just saw this post and https://www.tumblr.com/citrusbunnies/732151502028898304

I can’t help but imagine deer!hybrid reader that’s with 141, and they/she/he (it doesn’t matter lol) walked out of the bushes or woods to the team inside and their reaction to it!

Also I LOVE your work, every time I see that you have posted wether it be recently or if they are older and they just appear in my feed. I get excited! 😭 also if you don’t wanna do this, feel free to ignore COMPLETELY! I just saw this and I thought it was so cute😭😭

That deer image is actually funny… this drabble though, not so much.

Doe Cw: hybrid, DARKFIC, IMPLIED DUB-CON/NON-CON, kidnapping, training, implied sex, tell me if I missed any.

They cued in on the rustling sound, bushes ruffling against an unknown body hiding behind the tree line, moving as if they were unaware of the men or uncaring of danger. Rifles pointed towards the source, Price held control of the situation, aware of the danger when hunting feral hybrids. Ferals were unpredictable, unable to find the distinction between friend or foe, but they were smart, cunning and weren’t shy to group together, forming hunting packs. Those that were impossible to rehabilitate would stay in the wild, some causing trouble and others keeping to themselves, living alone or in a community they built on their own.

Despite the trepidataion and tension in their shoulders, the waited, breaths steady and unyielding to the harsh winds of early winter. They expected a wolf - or a few - or a bear to jump at them, but were released to see antlers poking out of the bush, tines interlocked with green and dried leaves still tied to a thin branch, followed by perked ears, rounded ends flicking against the leafage stuck around the antlers. A head soon followed, big, doe eyes with the dilated, rounded pupils staring at them with timid curiosity, uncertain of the danger.

Rather than a big brown bear or a deranged grey wolf, they found a curious deer hybrid. Price raised his fist, ordering the three of them to lower their weapons, holding it to his chest, he took a step towards you, slow and tentative. You jerked back, body moving out of your hiding place, fully exposing yourself to men —men deprived of the gentle touch of a woman and the loving embrace of one. You wore rags, hanging off the small straps of your shoulder and stopped mid-thigh, soft and plush skin; your dress hugged the promiscuous curves of your hips and the swell of your breasts and ass, leaving nothing to their imagination. You were a sight to hungry and deprived men like them, gruff and overworked, tired and wanting a moment of reprieve to relax and work off the stress.

“Hello,” it hadn’t crossed his mind whether or not you spoke, seeing that you were dressed in nothing but rags despite looking clean and untouched by filth, simply delicious to their eyes. “I’m John,” he gave you a smile, his eyes creased and cheeks wrinkled, his lips stretched under his bear-like beard, “Who are you?”

His softer approach made you compliant, mumbling out your name in a soft voice. You were skittish, looking as if a single abrupt movement would have you buck away from them, and they couldn’t have that, you were a source of information and much more. Soft curves and doe-eyed filled with a sort of innocence, able to thrive in the wild with feral hybrids, ye untouched by their rough and untamed character.

“Who… who are they?” Your eyes gazed over the three men behind Price, hands pulled to your chest in an effort to give yourself comfort and protection against the dark gleam in their brown and blue eyes.

“That’s Soap,” your eyes followed his hand, hovering towards the men with striking, blue irises and a weird haircut. “Gaz,” he motioned towards the man with warm, brown skin and a pretty face. “And Ghost,” he was the most intimidating, broad and big, it made you shudder. “What are you doing here?”

The question lingered in the air, you frowned, seemingly unwilling to divulge your reason because you had the same question, wanting to know why big, armed men were threading in your home. You looked away, staring at their feet rather than their strong gaze, feet shuffling around. They watched you bite your lip, pearly whites peaking under your lip to sink down in your glossy lips, perfect for kissing. How would you taste if they got their hands on you? Would your mouth taste as sweet and delicious as you looked? You were temptation on two feet.

“This is my home,” you reluctantly told them, becoming more anxieties by the second. It seemed like you were waiting for the right moment to skip away, to rush through the forest and hide away from the men who had a sudden interest in you. “You?”

“Classified, love.”

You perked up and shied away at the way he called you, his rumbling voice turning soft and disarming, near becoming for a sensitive hybrid like you. You were so adorable when you acted all shy, ears flicking and little nose scrunching up. You were naturally wary of anyone as a prey animal, vulnerable and without claws or sharp teeth against anything bigger than you. They could all see the tension building in your body, ears backed against your head and fingers fumbling around, his voice might’ve soothed you, but his reply made you fearful, suspicious enough to look more and more like you were going to flee.

If you ran, they would follow, Ghost would probably the one to catch you first, surprisingly fast and nimble for someone of his stature. He’d tackle you to the ground, scruff you and hold you down despite your wails and take you back, you had something they needed. Ghost would do the training, prepping you however he deemed fit and punish you if you lashed out. Gaz and Soap could easily break you in, their gentler countenance working in their favour. A push and pull, essentially, with Soap’s puppy-like aggression and mischievousness, and Gaz’s gentle care and grounding hand. Price would keep you in check, sometimes overseeing Ghost’s training and other times participating in it, being the disapproving and sympathetic one when faced with Ghost’s cruel and degrading ways.

You were pretty in rags - you would look pretty in anything you wore - but you’d be the prettiest naked and stuffed on their laps, eyes rolled back and breasts jostling. Taking you would take care of their needs, the temptation pulsing in their crotch. You wouldn’t mind it, would you? It would be better than sleeping on the rough, forest terrain, victim to both nature and the wilderness. You would be protected and taken care of, what else would you want?

“Why don’t you come with us, love,” it wasn’t an offer, it was a demand —an order.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday

[luveline]

hi lovely jade!! I had an idea for a request: reader who’s pretty independent who hurt her back working out and now can’t walk/shower/etc on her own for a few days x any of the marauders (I really do love them all and especially the way you write them. you can also make this poly!marauders if you feel so inclined).

this is definitely self indulgent, so please feel free to ignore it if it doesn’t do the creative trick.

thank you for sharing your lovely writing with us and being lovely overall!

sending so many hugs to you!!

hi honey, thank u for requesting!! hope u get better soon <3

the boys take care of you when you hurt yourself. fem, 1.2k

You wake in Sirius’ bed with James curled over you protectively. This is not unusual. What is strange is that Sirius seems to have already gotten up for the day, his sleep shirt thrown in a crumpled mess at your feet and his phone off the charger. You scrub at your tired eyes and consider going to look for him, figuring he's probably in the den (or office, depending on which boy you ask), but your back gives a twinge, and then a throb, and you remember the night before. 

You rub James’ arm and push it off of your chest, preparing mentally for the pain. You've tweaked it a few times in the past, the next day always being worse than the actual time of injury, and yet the pain you're met with is instantaneously disarming. 

“Ow,” you can't help but whine, trying to bend forward away from the pain, and finding you can't manage that, either. You gasp as heat races up your spine and across your shoulders, everywhere and nowhere, like the press of a hot hand. 

James mumbles, “What's the matter?” with his head still buried in the pillows. 

“James, I think I've really hurt myself.” Tears squeeze so quickly out of the corners of your eyes that you don't have time to recognise the heat of them. Other sensations are more pressing. 

You don't know if he's looking at you, but you can feel his careful touch working its way up his arm, and hear the ruffle of the sheets as he gets up. “What?” he asks, his voice stretched with the early hour. 

“Last night, when we were lifting, I– I pulled my shoulder and I thought it would–” You make a strangled sound. “It's really bad, what do I do?” 

“Woah, woah, don't panic!” He leans in, your blurry view suddenly filled with his gentle face. 

James soothes it from there, so to speak. He shushes you softly when you start to sob and helps you lay back down, wiping your tears, not a lick of panic about him. “It's okay, it's okay,” he murmurs, “does that feel better?” 

It's better flat, but not gone. “I can't sit up.” 

“That's okay,” he says, bringing your hand to his lips, where he kisses your fingers. 

He waits for you to calm down before grabbing his phone from his room. It's much later in the day than you'd thought, and Sirius will be working his afternoon shift, while Remus could be anywhere. He likes to write in cafes or parks, somewhere away from the hubbub of the house, lest he be distracted, waylaid with kisses, or pestered into helping make dinner or do laundry or whatever needs doing that day. 

“Hey,” James says, hushed, “you okay? Mm… can you come home?” A startled question that betrays the first recipient, Remus’ rasp on the line. “Yeah, I'm fine, it's our little gym rat sweetheart, she's strained her back, she's a bit upset… No, not yet. You think she'll let me?” 

“I'm not going to the doctor’s,” you call to him. James smiles at you from the door. 

“We’ll see,” he shoots back. “Yep yep. Okay. Well, he's in work… Okay. Yeah, okay. Love you, see you in a bit.” 

“What can he do?” you ask. “You should've left him.” 

“Same thing as me.” He runs his hands through his hair. It's a little too long again, dark and thick, curled at the base of his neck with flicks behind his ears, though it's short compared to Sirius’ mess. When he drops his arms, the noon time sunshine kisses his brown skin with a gorgeous warmth, and emphasises the lines of veins where they run up his arms. “You look like you're in agony,” he says, covering his mouth with a hand. “Is it really that bad?” 

You nod miserably. 

He sits next to you carefully, but now you've awoken your pain it won't sleep, and each millilitre of the mattress's distension prompts a new layer of aching. “Sorry,” he says, sounding like he could cry for you, “why didn't you tell me last night?” 

James wraps his arms around you in a strange way, trying not to jostle you as he leans down to touch his nose to your forehead. 

“I didn't think it would be this bad.” 

He talks a little about the doctor's while you wait for Remus to come home. It isn't a waste of time, he insists, the GP is there for a reason. 

You're surprised when it's Sirius who shouts up the stairs. “You okay?” he calls. 

“Sirius?”

James shrugs. “Remus must've told him. We're fine!” 

A rush up the stairs. Sirius pauses by the door, frowning at you both in his bed. “What did you do?” 

“Well, I didn't mean to,” you say. 

“Not you, darling. James, I told you to look after her, all that equipment freaks me out, and Remus agrees.” 

James sighs. “He doesn't mean that.” 

Sirius goes to sit with you but stops upon noticing your wince, and instead flops down on the floor near the wardrobe with his phone to his ear. “I'll get an emergency appointment.” 

“This isn't an emergency,” you say. 

“It is for you. You'll need a sick note sorted anyways.” 

“But it's not that bad.” 

“Sweetheart,” Sirius says, smiling at you softly, an uncommon expression on him, though not unseen, “I know when you've had a big cry.” 

He gets put on hold, saving you the further ache of the line music while James strokes your temple. You attempt to hide how much your back hurts, but you're hurting bad and the knowledge that it's not about to go away soon is genuinely scary. 

Remus understands uncertain pain. He's last to come home but certainly not the least concerned, shoving his laptop case onto Sirius’ dresser, freeing his hands in favour of your face. “Is it bad?” he asks, looking between you and James for an answer. 

“Not really,” you say. James’ face must say differently. 

“What painkillers have you taken?” he asks quickly, “I have co-codamols, did you take paracetamol? You can't have them at the same time.” 

He frowns deeply at your daunted look. “You haven't taken them already, have you? They're very strong by themselves, with paracetamol as well, you'd–” 

“I haven't taken anything,” you admit. 

Sirius sighs and rubs his nose into his palm. “Jesus.” 

“Oh,” Remus says, hands especially tender, even as he laughs, “of course you haven't.” 

“I was a bit distracted.” 

He sobers, stroking the fat of your cheek and then leaning down for a careful kiss. “Of course. Haven't eaten anything either, I suppose?” 

“No, sorry.” 

He kisses you again and pulls away. “That's okay. What about you, Jamie, did you eat?” 

They take care of you in their different ways, in the same way they take care of one another. “No,” James says, “but I have it. Swap places with me, I'll make dinner while we wait for the GP to answer.” 

“You can make supper at the same time,” Sirius jokes.

You laugh and hurt your back. He is very, very sorry. 

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 48. Say Thank You

Summary: After an interesting conversation over breakfast, Garrick has some ideas he wants to try out with Dahlia.

Warnings: Smut. 18+. Minors DNI. Unprotected Sex. Inappropriate signet use. Breath Play/Choking. Restraining with hands. Sex in a public area.

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I moan as the hot water washes over me, relieving the tension and aches in my muscles from being out on RSC the last few days, my eyes slipping closed as I tilt my head back. I’d gotten a shower in when we’d returned last night, but it had been so quick I barely got to enjoy or savour it before crawling into bed and falling asleep. Pretty sure the water had also been icy cold when I’d taken that shower.

My eyes snap open when strong hands grasp my hips, pulling my back against a solid chest, light kisses trailing along my shoulder. With how my body reacts I know it’s Garrick behind me. No one else could make my skin feel like it was alight the way he did. He nuzzles into my neck as he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me completely flush against him, his arousal evident as it presses into my lower back.

”Pretty sure this is the girls bathroom last time I checked.” I tease as he kisses my neck, my head rolling to the side easily to give him more access.

”And last time I checked I didn’t give a fuck.” He growls into my neck before lightly nipping my neck.

Suddenly the hot water from the shower feels colder, its heat nothing compared to the way Garrick’s set my body alight. I look at him over my shoulder, his eyes already locked onto mine, intense and unreadable. I’d seen him crave me, seen how lust had looked in his eyes. But this was different. There was something primal in his gaze. My breath catches in my throat as he lifts a hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear before letting his fingertips trail down my jaw, his lips capturing mine in a passionate kiss.

Garrick spins me around, grasping my thighs before picking me up with ease before backing me into wall. I gasp at the cool feeling of the stone wall against my back. He trails kisses down my neck, and down my chest before moving to my breast, his mouth latching on my nipple. I cry out, my head falling back against the wall as he sucks on it, his tongue flicking over the tip before moving to the other one. My fingers tangle in his dark curls, tugging roughly on them as he lightly nips the sensitive skin. I feel the tip of him teasing my entrance as he straightens his back, my hips moving back and forth in an effort to get some relief. But my efforts are stopped when Garrick grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head as he grabs both in one of his hands, the other pinning my hips to the wall.

”Someone’s needy.” He teases, as his lips hover over mine.

”Can you blame me?” I gasp out as I wriggle my wrists in an effort to get free, but his hand doesn’t budge. “I think three nights is the longest we’ve gone since we got back from war games.”

He smirks against my lips. “Would have been two, but I’ll make up for that little flower.”

”And how do you plan on doing that?”

He removes his hand from my hips, letting me grind up against him again, sighing as his tip rubs against my clit. “You might have to say thank you to Bodhi for asking how you like your coffee tomorrow.”

I furrow my brow at him, not sure what he means, and I don’t get a chance to ponder why as he grips my hip and pulls me down onto him, sheathing himself in one smooth motion due to how wet I am. My arms pull against his hand which still holds my wrists captive with ease as I throw my head back against the wall. I don’t know what profanities leave my mouth, but I feel Garrick rumble with laughter at whatever I’ve said.

”Relax Dahlia.” He murmurs into my neck as he slowly thrusts in and out, the pace almost torturous.

I need him to go faster, fuck me into the wall with reckless abandon. It was stupid how addicted to being with him I was already. I craved him more than I cared to admit. And right now this slow pace was fucking doing my head in.

”Tavis, move your hips faster before I use your signet against you.” I growl out at him through clenched teeth as I look at him.

His lips pull into a smirk, his dimple popping just enough to be annoying. “Not if I use it first.”

I go to lower my shields to pull on his signet, but my breath catches in my throat. All of a sudden breathing is much harder than it was, but not painful. Movement catches my eye and the hand that was holding my hip is raised, his fingers wrapped around something invisible. Garrick’s words from earlier bringing back what I’d said to Bodhi this morning.

”Sometimes just plain sex is fine, but sometimes you gotta mix it up with some choking or being tied up.”

Garrick must see the realisation in my eyes, his hands tightening on my wrists as his hips finally let up from the damn torturous pace he’d set. My back arches off the wall, my body not sure how to react at first to the feeling of what Garrick is doing, but after a few moments my body relaxes into it and a strangled moan leaves my lips. I’m completely at Garrick’s mercy as he pins my body and hands to the wall, and my breathing now literally in his hands. With another flick of his wrist the feeling around my neck tightens a little more. Fuck. My body instantly reacts, clamping around Garrick’s cock as his pace falters slightly.

”That’s it little flower.” He coos before kissing my neck so softly that it almost startles me.

I roll my head back against the wall, my mind foggy due to the lack of oxygen and the feeling of Garrick deep inside me. I loved when he pinned me against a wall or door, the position letting me fully take him in at the perfect angle.

He releases my hands, my body fully sinking down onto him. “Fuck Dahlia.” He groans out, burying his head against my neck.

I loosely drape my arms around his neck in an effort to hold him to me, but my body is so weak he could move away with ease. The feeling around my neck tightens again, my body shaking against his as I get closer and closer. Garrick wraps his arms around me, holding my tightly to him as he backs us out of the shower, lowering me down on a towel he must have laid out earlier. His hands push my knees wide, my back arching off the bench as he thrusts into me. I reach out, trying to find something to grasp onto in an effort to ground myself, but I come up short, settling on grasping my own hair as I get closer and closer. Finally Garrick releases the hold he has on my breathing, my body gasping for air as I cry out and shatter. Garrick continues to pound into me relentlessly before following me over the edge, moaning loudly his hips still against mine, leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine. Both of us just gasping for breath as we ride out our high. He wraps his arms around me again, scooping me into his arms before sitting on the bench as he settles me in his lap, pressing his lips to the top of my head.

”You were right.” I get out eventually once my breathing has settled.

”Right about what?” He asks.

”I might need to say thanks to Bodhi tomorrow.”

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[mybelovedsylus]

My hand slipped. Uh 18+ pls. Minors, keep it moving even though I know this doesn't come close to other's spice lol. ANYWAY the boys may have been feral in the promos - but uh anyway this is for my fellow Sylus girlies. (Also my first go at smut so I can’t promise anything great- but gotta get it out before we probably find out the cards are actually angsty as fuck) Potential Caleb one in the works cause the whole shoving his necklace in his mouth moment… aaaaaaaanyways no beta and no proofreading cause that’s who I’ve always been and it’s a pain on the iPad - forgive any mistakes.

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The Sylus I had gotten to know over the last several months was gone. He had disappeared out of the N109 zone in the middle of the day while I had been off on a mission hunting wanderers. Luke and Kieran had blown up my phone, but by the time I got the messages the trail had gone cold. That was until a few months later and that’s how I found myself in a giant cage, Sylus chained up across from me. The usual shine of red glimmer in his eyes was gone, instead it was a preditorial black glaring back at me.

“What have they done to you?”

“You’ve come to help? Why your idea of help is heartwarming,” he stuttered out stumbling towards me, pulling against his chains. His head tilted to the side and his tongue swept across his bottom lip as he looked me up and down. Before I could stop myself I flinched back a step, backing away just an inch but he noted it right away. His lips lifted into a eerie grin and then before I could blink he was on me, twisting my body so my back was perfectly molded to his front. I gasped as he ground his hips into mine and his arm locked around my throat, letting me know exactly what thoughts were filtering through his mind.

“Sylus, focus, we can worry about that later. Now’s the time to get you out of here.”

It was a weak beg honestly. It had been weeks since I had seen him and I wasn’t immune to him even knowing that he wasn’t himself. It’s as if he could sense that, huffing a sardonic chuckle into my neck as his mouth trailed up to my ear.

“Why would we leave?” He whispered and I felt the cool metal of chains sliding around my waist and winding over both hands. That was the shock I needed to start trying to pull out of his grasp, twisting to face him - who knew how long we actually had to get out of here? He gave me a teasing ‘tsk’ and then yanked my hands together and looped the remaining chain through cage, pulling until my arms were secured above my head.

“Now you’ll never fly away little bird.”

That was the last warning you got before Sylus was on you. His hands were roughly pulling on your hair as his mouth slanted over yours. His pace was punishing, like he was trying to make up for lost time and also like he was blaming you for whatever had happened to him in the time it took you to track him down. You whimpered into his mouth and that provided the perfect opening for him to lick inside your mouth, tangling your tongue with his. He pulled back, his hand giving another firm tug to your hair before pulling them free.

“Now where do we start? I mean the outfit is something else, I think we keep that,” he whispers his hands trailing down the front of my chest, stopping to pull at my nipples now straining against the leather before they continue on down to the skirt. I feel the familiar callouses trail down my leg, hooking under my knee to wrap my leg around his waist as he presses closer to me.

“I can feel the heat pulsing off of you here,” he growled out as his hands were suddenly under the skirt, pushing my underwear to the side. He bit down on my neck and I groaned as his fingers ghosted over my slit, gathering some of the wetness that was rapidly pooling, before using them to flick my clit roughly.

“Fuck, what are they giving you?”

“I thought you were trying to get me away from this,” his words ring true, but my thoughts are muddled by the way he’s playing my body.

He shifts his attention from my clit, roughly plunging two fingers inside me. I squirm, desperately wanting to grasp at something and only being able to pull uselessly on my chains. He sets a punishing pace, the sound obscene in the otherwise silent area. After a few thrusts he adds in a third, his eyes fixated on my face and reading all of the responses that I’m sure are flickering across my face. I don’t even realize my mouth is hanging open until I’m being fed said fingers, tasting myself on his skin. He’s pushing them deeper down my throat, testing how much I can take.

“Suck,” he commands. I hear the sound of his chains rattling, his free hand grabbing at my other leg so my body is now supported by his body, and held up by the chains. I moan around his fingers as I feel the head of his cock pushing at my entrance. My hips roll into him, needing him. He lets out a cruel laugh at my desperation before slamming himself home. I scream against his fingers, rolling my body into him and pulling uselessly against the chains. My eyes are watering and his little control left seems to snap. The hand around my thigh moves up to collar my neck and he pulls almost all the way out, dragging against all the sensitive spots, to slam home over and over.

“This is what I’ve needed, why didn’t you get here sooner, so warm, feels like home,” he grunts, pulling his fingers from my mouth, using the soaking digits to flick my clit as he pounds into me. I can feel and hear the slam of his balls as he bottoms out, then the head of his cock hooking on my slit as it fights to stay inside.

“Please, Sylus, please let me have my hands back, I need to feel you just like you need to feel me.”

He falters for a second, and I wonder if the medicine makes it where he can’t trust me like normal. But eventually the chain loosens. My hands aren’t completely free, but they’re loose enough that I can loop them around his neck and pull myself even closer to him. I grab the longer hair at the nape of his neck and pull, which causes him to let out a deep groan and piston even harder. At that point I’m tearing lines into his upper back, wherever my hands can find purchase as I am taken on a ride. His fingers twitch around my neck before closing in and giving the illusion of cutting off my air supply. I can’t help the moan that tears out of me, and then I’m trying to push myself back on him, to get him deeper, to get him to leave a permanent impression inside of me.

“I’m not gonna last much longer Sy,” I warn in a horse tone, struggling the words out. He uses the grip on my throat to pull my head towards him so he can swallow my cries with his mouth. The finger on my clit flicks even faster and I’m screaming as I fall apart around him. He groans as my walls clamp onto him, making it harder for him to keep up his bruising pace. It’s only a few moments later that he’s pulling away from my mouth and biting down hard on my shoulder as he finds his own release, a few small aftershocks wracking his body as he gives me small little thrusts as he pulses inside of me. We spend a second still wrapped around each other, both breathing heavily. He starts to pull away, and I whimper as he slips out, a warm gush going with him.

He looks down and smiles when he sees the mess of my thighs from where our releases are combined. With a snarky smirk, he moves my underwear back in place regardless of the mess. In fact, he seems to like the idea that I’m sitting here with clear evidence of what just happened.

“Hands Sy, play time is over, it’s time to get moving,” I remind him, rattling the chains to draw his attention, “and I need a shower.”

“Mmmm except now you smell like me." He says as his nose follows the sensitive path up my neck, causing my skin to pebble and my shoulder to shake in a shiver. Oversensitive at this point, I put my hands on his chest and shove.

"Ugh. Fine, time to fly little bird,” he whispers as he frees my hands, and as he looks down at me I can see a tiny bit of the usual red returning to his eyes as the drugs lose a little of their control. There’s a glimpse for a second of the Sylus I’ve been missing. I grasp his wrist and pull him towards the exit, time to fly indeed.