#and I'm thinking this attempt was meant for teaching

[2cool4ghoul]

I'm on Fire

Long time no see, eh?

sorry for my prolonged period of absence, I got shit going on!!!!

This is my first time writing for Joel Miller, I hope everyone enjoys, maybe it could be a two parter if people r feeling it! I haven't edited this because honestly who has time for that?

Summary: Reader asks for help with being taught hunting, gets stuck with Joel, who she thinks hates her, but we all know how that ends? Reader grew up in a cult situation where girls r taught they need to repopulate the earth after the outbreak and thinks sex is just for baby making, Joel wants to show her it could be more. I been listening to I'm on fire by bruce Springsteen and that song inspired this.

Warning: under 18 DNI! age gap not specified but allusion to it being gargantuan and ludicrously capacious, Smut, unprotected p in v (do I need to say it? WRAP IT), fingering, oral f receiving, slight daddy kink, doing it from behind, Joel is kinda mean, perv Joel, allusions to masturbation, innocence kink, religious imagery?, mentions of pregnancy, kinda public I guess, post outbreak, can be game Joel or Pedro Joel, any Joels a goal, no use of y/n, reader is female gendered, pussy pronouns, size kink if you squint, Praise kink, yearning, Joel feeling guilty and sorry for himself , boohoo, if I miss anything please tell me!!!! I love feedback!!

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You had been walking for hours.What was meant to be a simple hunt had now turned into aimlessly walking through the forest, staring at Joels back as he stalked in front of you. He refused to admit that he had gotten the two of you lost in the midst of chasing a rabbit, or a deer, or whatever it was he says he saw. When you did suggest heading a different direction, you were met with a sharp rejection, or a grunt telling you to keep your mouth shut. You knew he was angry before you’d even left, saddled with the burden of dragging you along with him. 

You didn’t particularly know Joel and you didn’t particularly like him either. His stand-offish demeanour and deep glare whenever you were around made you feel small in his presence. You had given up on the smiling and politeness that you gave everyone else in an attempt at self preservation, yet deep down you so badly wanted him to like you. You weren’t sure what you did and at what point you did it, but Joel made it very evident that he’d much rather be torn to shreds by infected, than teach you the basics of hunting. Which, with the sun becoming low and darkness threatening to spill over into the sky, you thought maybe he didn’t know the basics of hunting either. 

Frustrated, you huffed whilst adjusting your backpack on your shoulders, rolling your eyes slightly as he stopped to try and grasp any familiarities in your surroundings. “What’s got you all huffy and puffy?” He quipped, not even bothering to look over his shoulder at you.

“I am tired, Joel, we’ve been walking for hours now, I want to go home.” Sighing, your head fell back on your shoulders and he carried on walking.

“If I remember correctly, this was your bright idea, was it not?” His fists clenched at his side and you furrowed your brows.

“It was, when I thought I’d actually be able to learn something, I thought you were meant to be good at this-“

“I am good at this, you’re scaring ‘em all away, with your bitchin’ and moanin’” You’d obviously bruised his ego a bit there, yet the reaction you’d gotten was the most exciting thing that had happened all day. 

Well, that and being able to watch him closely whilst he furrowed his brow, focusing down the barrel of a gun. Laying on the ground next to him, so close that you could nearly smell the musk that seemed to radiate off of him. Yes, you didn’t particularly like him, but looking at him? You liked that very much. You liked the way his arms looked when he rolled up the sleeves of his flannels. The way he looked when he started the day, fresh out the shower with his greying hair slicked back and slightly damp. The way his voice was low when he was trying to teach you a lesson. The way he crossed his arms and rolled his eyes when you made a joke, a suggestion, or even just breathed. Seeing all of this things was enough to put a pit in your stomach, a pit that you’d been carrying around all day with little idea what to do about it. It ached and it throbbed. 

“Well maybe in your old age, your losing your touch.” You said it quiet, thinking that he wouldn’t hear you. But he did. He responded with a scoff, clenching his fists again. He wasn’t even going to dignify it with a insult back, his reaction alone was enough to make you feel insufficient. You both retreated to the silence and you kept yourself to your thoughts on how you were going to deal with the ache between your thighs.

______________________________________________________________

Night had fallen and Joel had still not managed to find your way home. Instead you’d found an old shack, barely together but good enough shelter to sleep for the night. Joel figured it was tomorrow’s problem, that and he couldn’t be bothered to listen to your complaints about how tired you were.

The dim glow of the campfire lamp created a yellow cast over Joels features and you couldn’t help but stare as he sat opposite you, eating a sandwich you’d given him earlier in an attempt to lift his spirits. His features were rough and frown lines had been permanently etched into his skin. This life had worn him down, toughed him up like leather. Maybe that was why he was mean to you. Maybe he’d ran clean out of kindness. His large hands made whatever he was holding look small, they were calloused and scarred across his knuckles. You didn’t want to imagine what things those hands had done. But you did want to imagine what they could do. Running over your skin, fingertips grazing your lips, leaving goosebumps and a shiver down your spine. Grabbing at your skin, creating bruises and marks, his fingers, thick and strong, spreading you open and filling you-

“The fuck are you lookin’ at?” Gruff and fed up, Joels voice snapped you right out of the darkest corners of your mind, your eyes widening slightly as you realised you had obviously been staring, eyes hazed over.

“I, uh, I was looking at my sandwich, I don’t think you deserve it.” Nice save, you praised your self internally and he raised an eyebrow, looking at you like you were some stupid insignificant thing.

“How come I don’t deserve it?” 

“We caught nothing today, you didn’t teach me shit.” You tried your best to mimic the facial expression he was pulling, hoping that just maybe you could make him feel how he did. 

“Hmm.” He grumbled after putting the last bite in his mouth. “’s'all gone now.” There was almost a smirk playing on his lips, his gaze making you squirm and squeeze your thighs together. What was happening to you? It felt like every fibre of your being was betraying you, begging for you to climb over to him and beg him to take you whatever way he wanted. “What’s the deal with you anyway?” 

“With me?” Taken aback, you went slightly rigid, why would he want to know anything about you? He hated you, he made it perfectly clear. He nodded, eyes narrowing as if he was trying to work you out. “What do you mean?”

“Well, why do you want to learn to hunt? And don’t you have some boyfriend around to teach you?” This was the most he’d spoken to you all day, and he had you spluttering on the sip of whatever you’d just taken. 

“I want to hunt so I can be useful,” you coughed out, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt to look casual, “and no I don’t have a boyfriend to teach me, so I suppose you’re just gonna have to put up with me for now.” Shaking your head, you tried at being playful, but it still didn’t crack his prying exterior.

“Pretty young thing like you, ‘bound to have ‘em falling at your feet.” It was said as almost a passing comment, but your shock was visible on your face, blinking and biting your lip trying to make up a response that was witting and defensive but you couldn’t.

Before you’d scrambled your way to Jackson, alone and bewildered, you had grown up in a cult, whose goal was primarily to restart civilisation. They’d taught how it worked, making babies and all that, and for a while you were happy playing the part, letting your father chose a man, who would be forced with the task of putting as many babies as he could inside you. You endured, what felt like a chore, with your partner, watching your friends fall pregnant. Your inability to fall pregnant was what made you run in the first place, hearing of what they did to the girls who could birth a child had frightened you, fearful that you’d be reduced to another mouth to feed. A drain on resources. So with all of that in mind, finding a boyfriend was never something that crossed your mind, nor was it something you greatly desired. But with Joel sat in front of you, legs spread with his thick thighs in your direction, you felt strings inside you being pulled that had previously been untouched.

“You think I’m pretty?” You swallowed, maintaining eye contact with him for a moment, trying to catch a hint of softness. 

“I think you’d be doin’ better tryin’ to find a nice young man,” He adjusted his position and met your gaze, “rather than spendin’ the night in and old shack with’an old man like me.” This was him trying to be nice you thought, but it was having the opposite effect. It made you defensive and you narrowed your eyes.

“Oh because I’d be better off finding a man-” 

“You’re puttin’ words in my mouth.” His interruption was calm, yet stern, shaking his head at you and rubbing his face with his hands. He’d succeeded in silencing you as you looked down at the ground in front of you, slightly embarrassed.

“I’ve had a boyfriend, or a lover, I don’t know what to call him,” You avoided him, you had no idea why you felt the need to be vulnerable, “and I don’t know what the whole big deal is, y’know?” You sighed, cheeks flushing a bit pink. “I don’t understand why someone would put themselves through that.”

“Through what?” He leaned forward slightly, curiosity shadowing his face in the dim light. Finally you lifted your head, showing him your red cheeks.

“That.” You hoped he understood your insinuation. And due to the sudden rigidness of his body recognised that he understood. He pursed his lips for a moment and then opened them as if to speak, yet nothing came out. Embarrassment was flooding your body, you regretted even bringing it up due to the sudden tension in the air. And there was that pit in your stomach again, aching and throbbing as you watched him stumble over words to say.

“Because it feels good.” Was all he could stifle out, watching your reaction carefully as your knitted your brows, screwing your face up in confusion slightly.

“Maybe for the men,” You scooted up onto your knees, looking up at him as he sat taller than you, “but for me, as a woman, its just so much pressure.” He was now looking confused, squinting his eyes, trying to understand.

“Pressure to what?” 

“To make a baby.” He was beginning to patronise you, making you explain the obvious like it was some sick game. It got you all defensive again. “It doesn’t feel that great when all you can think about is if you’re going to be able to make-“

“It’s not just about that.” Adamantly he shook his head, eye scanning over your body watching as frustration overtook you. “It’s not just about making a baby.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Miller, I’ve had sex, I know what its about.” You bit sharp, heart thumping in your chest, moving closer to him to try and assert some dominance.

“I don’t think you do.” You could’ve sworn there was a ghost of a smirk hiding behind his beard. “Christ, I should not be the one telling you this.”

“Telling me what? What Joel?” You were now practically between his legs, kneeling, begging to understand what he could possibly be talking about. “Please, tell me, I don’t understand.” His eye were trying frantically, to look everywhere except for you.

“Darlin’, I cant be tellin’ you this, s’wrong.” His voice was lower, speaking to you quietly and firmly, grabbing a hold of your wrists. You felt hot under his touch, his rough hand wrapping around your wrists, staring into your eyes. “M’old enough to be your daddy.” 

“Whats that got to do with it?” Your voice lowered to the same volume as his, you were searching for the answers in his eyes, and he looked conflicted. Like he was balancing options. 

Your body was betraying you again, it wanted to reach forward, wrap itself around him, be as close to him as possible, as if the proximity now was not enough. As if the feeling of his fingers and palms on your now hot skin, was not enough.

“You think I haven’t noticed the way you’re always starin’ at me? Hmm, sweet girl?” God, if you were red before, now you were purple. Your skin was prickling, not just at the acknowledgment of your behaviour but at his sudden use of pet names. You couldn’t force words out even if you tried. “Why’d’you think I avoid you like you’re the plague?” With his face inches from yours, it was now easy to see that there was almost desperation in his eyes, like he was losing a battle, unable to let go of his grip still. 

“B…Because, you, you hate me.” You finally stuttered out, your throat dry from the heaving breathing.

“Christ, no, I don’t hate you, darlin’, I just can’t stop myself when you’re in front of me, staring at me with those big o’eyes, looking like you’re just about ready to drop to your knees.” There was still no answer to your question, you still didn’t understand, you so desperately wanted to understand. Especially after watching the way he licked his lips, his burning stare taking in every inch of you, “And to think, you’ve been sat there, squeezin’ your legs together, and you don’t even know what you’re doing.”

“I, I, I don’t understand, what you’re saying, Joel.” Your chest was rising and falling, a sweat blanketing the both of you, his grip loosening but letting his hands travel further up your arms until they were at your back. 

“Let me show you.” Was all he could muster out until his lips were on yours. He crashed against you, pulling you into him by your back. You fought for a moment at first, out of shock at his abruptness, but it did not take you long to be pressing your body against his, your fingers getting lost in his hair, gripping and tugging whilst he groaned into your mouth. His tongue found its way against yours, tasting every part of you, savouring the moment as you whimpered. You pulled away for a moment to catch your breath and he rested his forehead against your, “We shouldn’t be doing this.” The ache was taking over your body now, like it was all for him, making you force your lips on him again.

“Please, Joel, please,” You purred into him, his hand reaching down to your ass, gripping it hard, “please, I’m aching.”

“Baby, you don’t know what you’re doin’ to me,” he growled, his free hand reaching up to your neck, “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Please show me, I need you.” Begging, you ignored how right he was, you were sure what you needed but you needed it fast. The tension was becoming unbearable, you needed release.

He held you close by the small of your back, gently lowering you down until your back touched the ground and he was on top of you. Looking up at him through your lashes, you were ready to do anything he asked of you, your entire body feeling like it was electric. He continued kissing you, moving his lips down your jaw, down your neck, sucking and unbuttoning your shirt with an experienced hand. There was still a little bit of disbelief inside you, a failure to believe that Joel Miller, who 2 minutes prior you believed hated you, was on top of you undressing you. The anticipation for his next move was unlike anything you’d experienced before. “God, I’ve thought about this,” His voice vibrated across your chest, your body lifting to meet his lips, your bra exposing your cleavage, “now look at you, angel, whimperin’ for me like a bitch in heat.” He was grinding his hips, pressing his hard bulge into where you needed him most. 

“Please, it hurts, Joel.” There was nothing you needed more than what he was giving you, the friction of denim rubbing together was nothing cooling the burning sensation between your legs. 

“I know, baby, I know.” He grumbled, “m’gonna show you, jus’ takin’ my time.”

Kisses were descending south down your body, soft red marks left in their wake. He was taking his time, occasionally glancing up at your wide, blown out eyes. He wanted to show you exactly what he’d meant. Exactly what he’d meant. When he finally reached the waistline of your jeans, he tapped your thighs, signalling for you to lifts your hips so he could begin to pull them down your legs and then off your body entirely, taking your white cotton panties with them. You instinctively pressed your knees together, immediately feeling exposed in front of Joels large frame. 

He tutted, “Ain’t no use bein’ shy now, sweet girl, you gotta show me where you need me.” 

You did as you were told, spreading your legs, whilst he knelt back, palming the growing tent in his jeans. “that’s it, good girl.” groaning, he leant forward, lowering his body to meet yours, “Look at how wet she’s got f’me, you might not know what I mean, but she definitely does.” A sadistic chuckle left his throat, watching you squirm under his intense gaze. 

Your body jolted when one of his fingers gently slid up your folds, collecting the wetness and slick, leaving you unable to breathe. No one had ever touched you there, not even yourself, and here was Joel Miller, slack jawed, toying with your hole however he pleased. He did slow motions up and down, watching as you glistened in the dim light. You had no idea you were capable kf feeling this feeling, a tingling sensation rippling in waves along with his touch. You were absentmindedly grinding your dripping cunt in motion with him, your eyes flickering shut whilst your head rolled back. “that’s right, baby girl, feels good don’t it?” Joel cooed through a smirk, watching intently as you rubbed against him. 

“mmhmm,” You hummed in a daze, this must’ve been what he was talking about, “so good.” And with your admission of pleasure, a small smile dancing over your lips, he took his hand away. Your head snapped up and you propped yourself on your elbows, looking down at him with pouted wet lips. He took little notice of your reaction, instead he wrapped his arm around your thighs positioning his face opposite your throbbing pussy. 

Before you had time to question why he was so close, he showed you. He dove into like a you were water and he was in a drought. Gasping, you watched with your jaw wide, panting whilst he licked and sucked at you, his tongue exploring every inch of you. “Joel, fuck, my god, what are you doing?” you panted, your chest rising and falling heavily. 

“Well,” he spoke between breaths, “I’m tasting you, darlin’ and boy, don’t you taste sweet.” he continued on, watching your breathing growing erratic, the torment his tongue was bestowing on you causing your eyes to roll back into your head, a hand holding onto his forearm. “your old boyfriend never came down for a taste?” 

“No” Just when you thought you couldn’t feel any better, he brought you to a new high. One which made you sure that this was what he was talking about surely it didn’t get better than this. Feeling his beard scratching against your thighs, seeing the absolute sheer pleasure in his eyes as his tongue fucked itself into your hole. 

“He was missing’ out, I’ll tell you that much, sweetheart.” It was a smug scoff. He was immensely enjoying the effect he was having on you. See you wriggle, unable to keep still, holding your hips firmly down to the ground so he could have his way with the sweet pussy in his mouth. Knowing that his mouth was the only one to taste you, to savour and relish in the taste of you, god he felt like one lucky man. 

The pit that started in your stomach had now grown and blossomed to take over your entire body, it was consuming and controlling you. Your back arched off the ground, only remaining anchored by Joel firm hands, you let one of your hands grab fistfuls of Joel’s hair, pushing him closer against you, whilst your other hand took to your breast, pinching at your hardened nipple underneath the restrictions of the bra. You cared not for the noises you made, filling the otherwise silent forest with salacious moans and Joel’s name. If a search party had been sent out for you, they’d definitely find you. They’d find you laying half naked, fucking yourself on Joel tongue. It was nearly shameful how much you were at his expense. The grip was gone from one of your thighs, your weak leg dropping to the ground giving him a wide access as you planted your foot on his back. He leant back for a moment before pursing his lips and spitting directly onto your already drooling cunt, making you flinch. 

“look at me, pretty girl.” He took a breath, your eyes meeting his, “god, what a sight for sore eyes, so pretty, look at me.” babbling his took your moment of distraction as a invite to insert two of his thick fingers into your hole, smiling again with wet lips, the juices from your pussy dampening his beard and shinning off of his prominent nose. Your eyelids fluttered as you struggled to make eye contact with him, your lip between your teeth to hard you were sure it was going to draw blood. at first he made sure to slowly let you adjust to the stretch of his fingers, feeling your walls constrict around his digits. “mmm, thatta girl, taking my fingers so well, is that nice?” His praise made you fumble, unable to form sentences, only being able to respond with a over ambitious nod of your head, pouting with beads of sweat dribbling down your temples. “I bet it’s nice, no one’s ever touched you like this, huh? My needy girl, following me around, so full of desire with no where to go.” You continued nodding, hypnotised by his words, his fingers curling to reach a spot, overwhelming you, tears prickling in your eyes. Your stomach was tight, the pressure building and building, your knees growing weak. “My girl.” He repeated to himself, looking your up down as if he was admiring his handiwork. 

“M’all yours.” It left your throat involuntarily, strangled and choked, pathetic. 

“All mine?” He huffed incredulously, “Yes you are, all mine, christ girl.” His mouth returned to the mess he had made made, lips wrapping around and pulling at your clip, releasing with a wet pop. You hissed and tugged at his hair, his nose smushed against your skin, sniffing and smelling as much of your natural scent as he could. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate a pussy this intoxicating, or if he ever even had. 

Something was about to rupture in you, it panicked you, washing over your body. You were unable to breathe, unable to release the grip you had on him, your eyes widening as you trembled against joel’s mouth. “Joel.” you squeaked out and he looked up at you with dark eyes, “what’s, fuck, I’m…” Your heart pounded in your chest and in your ears, you could barely focus, unable to form a sentence, or even get a word out. 

“that’s right, go on, let it out,” his warm breath fanned against your sensitive area, “make a mess, let go f’me, soak my finger.” He was rattling you and egging you on, seeing your pathetic, writhing, sweating body in front of him. 

Once more, you did as you were told. And holy shit. 

It was like your entire body was on vibrate, toes curling, unable to even make noise. Stars were bursting behind your squeezed shut eyes, body lifted forward off the ground. “That’s my girl, there she is, fucking hell, give it to me, darlin’” He groaned, digging his hips into the ground, watching you come undone. The tension was being released in constricting waves, your walls clenching and squeezing around his fingers, which remained still, but still putting pressure on the spot they had previous being stroking relentlessly. 

“oh my god, Joel, fuck me, oh my god, fuck, fuck.” When you could finally breathe again, you whined his name, cursing and crying a stream of profanities, his fingers leaving you empty whilst his tongue lapped up every precious drop of your high. It took a couple blinks for your vision to come back at when it did, you were met by the proud grin plastered on his face. 

“what was it you said earlier? somethin’ ‘bout me losin’ m’touch in m’old age?” He teased, before putting the fingers that had been in you, into his mouth. He sucked them dry, letting his eyes roll back into his head for a second. “Sure didn’t seem to mind my touch when you were choking my fingers.” 

“what was that?” You almost lost your voice, your throat dry. Joel was working his way up your body, kissing you and nibbling at your salty skin. 

“That, my darlin’, was what I meant.” His teeth pulled at your earlobe and you took deep breaths before letting your fingers nimbly start to unbutton his own flannel. 

“Do it again.” You pleaded, staring into his brown eyes, trying to rid him of his shirt as quickly as possible. 

“Christ, you are needy,” He stopped his kisses, “she’s already wanting more? it feel that good?” 

“Please, do it again, I want more.” You were completely possessed by the pleasure you had felt, gagging to feel more, you wanted him carnally, to have as much of him as possible. 

“Use your words, what do you want?” He was enjoying this too much for someone who had previously stated how wrong it was. He was going to give in, there was no way he couldn’t with his cock so painfully hard in his pants, he just wanted to relish in having you beg for him some more. 

The truth is that he’d spent plenty of time watching you. When you first came to town and Maria set you in the cabin next door, Joel had watched you. In fact, his bedroom window had been so perfectly placed so that at the right time of night, when you stepped out the shower he could make out your outline behind your curtains. In these moments, Joel would let himself indulge in all the dirty, perverted thoughts he’d kept locked up. He take his manhood in his hand and pleasure himself at the thought of feeling your skin against his, the thought of you whimpering and offering yourself, spread apart, for him. He’d thought many times about bounding through the door, ruining whatever was left of your innocence. He hadn’t, however, imagined that you had this much innocence left. And he would’ve never imagined in his wildest dreams that you’d be begging him for more, for him ruin you. 

“I want you, I want you to fill me up, to stretch me.” You were speaking whatever came to mind, no thinking, just action, tumbling over your words with the grace of a bull in a china shop. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, your eyes fucked out, hair matted and wild. This was enough for him to give in, allowing you to push his shirt down his arms, revealing his tanned skin and soft belly. Hair scattered below his waistline and you were eager to find where it lead to. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, girl.” He cursed, watching your small hands struggled with his belt buckle. When he’d agreed to help teach you hunting, this is the last place he thought he’d be. 

He ended up undoing his belt himself, your frantic hands proving useless, but this meant you got to watch with wide, hungry eyes as his cock slapped his lower stomach, red and swollen with pre-cum beading at the tip. You were speechless, gulping, unsure of whether it would even fit. After he’d discarded of his jeans, reaching round and pumping his shaft in his fist. You were starving for him, the way he looked in this light, completely bare in front of you. He came down to your height, lips against yours, tongue in your mouth. “Can you taste yourself? Taste how sweet you are?” You purred a yes into the kiss and he pulled away, grabbing your chin between his thumb and finger. “taste good don’t you?” His half-lidded eyes remained fixed on the way you licked your lips and smiled sweetly at him, as if you were completely angelic. “yeah, you like it? ‘Course you do, jesus.” He shook, he wasn’t gonna last long with you looking the way you did, feeling the way you did. “how do you want it?” He was buying himself time, his cock already twitching just at the thought of being inside you. 

“I’ve never done it, from behind.” Your voice was quiet and unsure, you’d clearly never been asked how you wanted it and now you felt like there was a right and wrong answer. However with the way Joel immediately grabbed you, flipping you over with a squeeze so that you laid on your stomach, you realised that maybe you picked right. 

“Now,” he straddled your thighs, grabbing and kneading at your bare ass, spreading your cheeks and planting his cock between them, “it’s been a while,” he rocked his hips gently, watching the way his cock pushed through your plush cheeks, getting lost, “I ain’t tryin’ to make excuses-”

“Please, please, I’m begging you,” you pleaded, arching your back and pushing against him, his balls dragging against your pussy causing him to shiver, all the hairs on his body standing on end, “I want you to give it to me again, Joel, it’s aching again, I’m aching for you.” You tried your best to crane your neck, so that you could make eye contact with him and he took it as an opportunity to grab you by the neck. 

“M’gonna give it to you, baby girl, you ready?” His lips brushed against your forehead before resting there, so you whimpered in response before he plunged into you. 

He stretched you out in a way that burned. It felt like you were being torn and you evidently winced and hissed and the intrusion of his cock. He, on the other hand, had just entered into heaven. The way you wrapped around him so tight and perfectly had him choking on his low groans, basking in watching your pussy so delightfully swallow every inch he had to give you before stopping at the base. You needed a moment, clenching your fists and squeezed your eyes shut, you needed to adjust to having something of his sheer size inside you. He needed a moment because he was sure if he made any sudden movements, he was going to spill inside you immediately, before he had even had a chance to get you remotely close to your climax. “god, you’re so fucking tight, she’s takin’ me real good.” He kissed at your forehead again, trying to distract himself from the way you were squirming. You knot in your stomach was growing again and the pain was soon numbed out, awaiting his movement. 

“you’re so big.” whining, you fluttered your lashes, splaying your hands out in front of you, preparing yourself. 

“I know, baby, you ready for it?” 

“Yes,” You were practically gasping for air, making puppy dog eyes at him through your eyelashes, watching him twitch, “please, Joel, please.” 

Against his better judgement, Joel began thrusting his hips slowly into you, watching your expression twist, eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide open. You mewled and whimpered, knuckles turning white as you gripped at nothing. You looked pathetic beneath him, surrendering yourself entirely. And he ate it all up. He was enthralled, blinking down at you, watching tears form at the corners of your eyes, your freckles hiding beneath a red flush. This was heaven.

He rocked into you fervently, pushing in and pulling out moans. His grip around your neck kept your face in constant view, his breath fanning over your skin. “You look so beautiful, baby, taking this cock.” He grunted out between the snap of his hips, reaching deeper inside you than anyone had before, your soft velvet walls wrapping around him, clenching and contracting to accommodate his girth. Your lips couldn’t form words, stuck open wide, panting, your tongue resting on your bottom lip.  

You felt so full, feeling him in your belly, grazing your cervix with ease. His free hand traveled from your hips, holding you safe and firm, to squeeze a handful of your ass, painfully hard. It caused you to yelp, pushing your hips into him, making his thrust halt for a moment as he shuddered. He was trying desperately hard to not cum embarrassingly fast. He felt like a teenager again, trying to divert his thoughts to anything other than the writhing body he was currently impaling with his throbbing cock. But the way you were pushing back on him, begging him constantly with that drunken look in your eyes, like he was the only other person on the planet. He couldn’t ignore it, no matter how much he though about what needed fixing at home, all his thoughts returned to you. 

“More.” You choked out. And he raised an eyebrow.

“More? More what, sweetheart?” He punctuated by giving a hard thrust that left you shaking. 

“Harder, I want it- Oh fuck!” Interrupting you, he took advantage and began ramming into you mid sentence, taking immense pleasure in watching you become undone around his relentless torment.

He let go of your ass and your neck, picking you up by your hips so you were on your knees, check pressed against the ground. There was an excited smile on your face, cheeks aching and hot. “You smilin’ girl? Yeah? You like it like this, feel good don’t it?” Whilst you couldn’t see his face, you could hear he was groaning through a grin too, keeping your legs steady so he could quicken his already brutal pace.

There it was again, that growing pit, the flush of electricity that erupted into your body. Your grin only grew, whining and spreading your legs out further for him, allowing him to go deeper and deeper with each groundbreaking thrust. Your legs were trembling, your knees aching and surely bruised up. But it was the last thing on your mind, all you could think about was the impending surge of pleasure. “Hell, look at you,” Joel growled, swallowing hard, “You fuckin’ love it.”

“I… Do, don’t stop!” You spread your legs further, thighs falling downwards, ignoring the burning sensation at the slightly uncomfortable position that you knew you’d regret tomorrow.

“Oh darlin, I ain’t gonna be able t’hold on much longer, not wit’you spreading your fuckin’ legs like this f’me.” Joel was holding on for dear life, becoming desperate. He knew you were close, he could feel it in the way your cunt was becoming tighter and tighter, dripping with arousal, slick running down his thighs getting lost in the hair.

“Mmmhmm, I want it daddy, fill me up.” Your words were slurred and he tensed at what you’d called him. 

“Yeah, baby girl, you want daddy deep in you?” He leant over you, palm pressing against the side of your head, pushing you further against the wooden floorboards. His thumb fell just above your mouth, sitting on your lips until you wrapped them around it, sucking gently. You nodded, your body beginning to tense and tremble.

This was shameful stuff, Joel thought, stuff people go to confession and repent for. Here you were, on your hands and knees, offering yourself up, sucking his thumb, fluttering your lashes. You were either the most beautiful angel or a demon sent to lead him astray. Either way, he was relishing in it. 

“Come on baby, I know it’s-”

“Oh, Daddy, I'm gonna- it’s coming, I’m-” Your frantic moans came out tumbling over his, interrupting him, arching your back up, your entire body clenching at you were engulfed in pleasure again. “Oh, Joel, Oh my god, you, f, f, feel, so good!” You didn’t care about your volume, you just cared about how amazing it felt to have Joels cock deep inside you as you twitched and writhed around him. You pushed your ass against him, trying to get him as far in you as possible.

Joel couldn’t stop himself, spilling into you will a prolonged broken groan, one hand grabbing a fistful of your hair, the other grasping on your hip, his head snapped back. He could’ve been having a heart attack, the way his heart was pounding in his ears. You could feel him pumping inside of you, each twitch and rope painting your insides. 

“Oh, sweet girl, Christ!” He panted out of breath, riding out his high, jutting his hips forward into you as you breathed heavily beneath him, sensitive to every one of his movements. “You’re gon’ be the death of me, girl.” He fell over you, his weight pinning you down, pulling his softening cock out of you.

He rolled to the side of you, you remained laying on your front, thighs trembling, aching too much to move positions. “You still in there?” He raised his eyebrows, brushing hair behind your ear as you look up at him in adoration, big eyes filled with want. A giggle left your lips as his chest rose and fell in deep loud breaths. “What’re you laughin’ at?” 

“Is it like that every time?” Coarse, your voice creeped out, wiggling closer to him as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his calloused hand.

“No,” sighing, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling your tired frame into his, immediately soaking in the warmth, “that was… somethin' else.” 

You were quick to fall asleep in his arms. You knew you were safe, your body aching and weak. You were engulfed in his scent, head resting nestled into his armpit, soaking it all in. 

He’d opened a can of worms, swarmed by thoughts he’d tried to suppress, watching you curl up next to him. He could not shake the image of you coming undone around him, surrendering so easily to him. It was so much better than he’d ever imagined, but now he’d acted on these thoughts, he could no longer suppress them. He couldn’t avoid you, the only act of indulgence he’d allowed himself was watching you through your window. Now he hadn’t just indulged himself, he’d submerged himself in you. He was ashamed. He should’ve known better.

______________________________________________________________

“Get up, gotta head back.” 

You were awoken, your shirt being thrown at you, crumpled over your chest. Your eyes took a moment to adjust, sunlight seeping into the cabin. You blinked a few times, a shadow breaking up the sunlight. Your body ached like you’d ran a marathon. “Hey, Kid, wake up.” His stern abrupt voice, causing you to pout, instinctively bringing your shirt up to cover your breasts. 

Joel was standing opposite you, fully dressed, bag on his shoulders, towering over you with a fed up expression painting his features. You blinked up at him a few times, frowning, confused. “Do I gotta say it a third time? Jesus Christ.” He muttered under his breath, shaking his head, turning his back on you to walk out the cabin.

A tsunami wave of embarrassment and shame flooded through you. Feeling your cheeks turning hot and purple, scrambling to get your bra and clothes on, eyes scanning the floor for your belongings. You pulled your socks on, searching for your panties. They’d seemingly disappeared. But due to Joels passive aggressive sighs outside, you decided they were a lost cause. Pulling your jeans up your legs without them. You felt dirty, your inner thighs still sticky and wet, his cum smeared across them. His coldness was causing you to do flips in your tummy. When you finally met him outside the cabin, he muttered something else under his breath and then began walking without a word.

You kept your eyes down to the ground, tail between your legs, walking in silence. You felt the tension in between you two. Like you’d upset him. Like you’d done something wrong. He didn’t dare look back at you, ignoring every noise you made, cursing every twig you stepped on reminding him you were there. And reminding him where he’d been. Reminding him of the touch of your soft skin, how small you felt in his arms, the way you were whimpering his name begging for him. He couldn’t bare it, knowing you were behind him, eyes distraught, the carpet swept from beneath you.

Your mind was elsewhere, trying to figure out where you’d messed up, what it was that was wrong. Everything had felt so right, so so good. What was it that you did that had angered him so much. You didn’t notice the branch within the leaves in front of you and you tripped slightly, falling forward, only to be caught by Joels strong hands. “Would you just watch what you’re doin’?” He bit, lip twitching, staring you directly in the eye, hands gripping onto your arms for a moment too long. 

“Did I do something wrong?” You swallowed, watching him turn around on his heel, shaking his head again, like you were asking something outlandish, “I mean.. was I… was I not very good? I know I don’t have much experience but-” You were fumbling over your words again, insecurity threatening to spill from your eyes, Joel freezing in front of you.

“What we did was wrong, no matter how good it felt, for both of us.” He spoke stiff, refusing to look you in the eye when he turned around, refusing to acknowledge that you were holding back tears. “It was wrong.” He lifted his hands in front of him, as if to signal “enough”.

“But-”

“No, no, thats it end of.” 

“You’re not even letting me-”

“Listen to me,” he stepped forward, now staring too directly in the eyes, inches from your face, steadying his breathing, “Last night should not have happened, It will not happen again and I’d appreciate you keepin’ it to yourself, it was a mistake, a lapse in judgment.” 

His words stung. Like falling on your palms on gravel as a kid. Quick and lingering. You tried your best to hid your quivering bottom lip. You didn’t know how to respond, you didn’t know if he’d even let you. You decided against it. He’d humiliated you enough, you weren’t about to cry in front of him too. 

You carried on the rest of the walk in silence. Like nothing had changed. Like you couldn’t still feel him dripping out of you. Like the ghost of your taste wasn’t still dancing on his tongue, on his lips. He could smell you all over him. 

When you finally got back to town, you parted ways, the awkwardness radiating off of the both of you as you were welcomed back. He made you feel sick. It was all so embarrassing. The way he wouldn’t even look at you. But why would he? You were just one great big lapse in judgment. The return to your small cabin was lonely and you had barely gotten to your front door when you finally allowed yourself to cry. You allowed yourself one glance back at Joel, who was entering his own home, already staring you down. You sobbed a little, shooting him a cold glare before slamming you door shut behind you, sliding down it with your hands in your hair.

Joel felt guilt rotting inside him. 

He entered his home alone, it was cold and he could still smell you all over him. 

He took one hard step at a time, ascending his stairs, his bed creaking beneath his weight as he sat down, sighing. 

He reached into his back pocket, pulling out the white cotton panties, the little satin ribbon on the front crumbled and slightly undone. Lifting them to his nose, he inhaled, your scent filling his nostrils and his brain. The image of you playing on repeat behind his eyelids, like an old movie on a projector.

And with one hand holding your panties to his nose and mouth, eyes fixated on your bathroom window, he let his other one fist his cock out of his jeans, stroking it slowly.

Back to square one.

[kindalikerackham]

okayyyyy fine (I say to the maybe 3 people interested) I'll talk about Dr. Tanaka, and the show's (Bones 2005) response to them

[disclaimer: my perspective is someone late 20s, white, & nonbinary, as well as biased to see the good in this show. I may not have the same perspective on these examples as someone else]

[also I wrote this for fun! so it's not like an airtight argument or anything]

so.. I wasn't surprised by the team's reaction to a person who doesn't conform to gendered standards (obsession with figuring out if they were really a man or a woman, culminating in a hug just to feel their chest), for 2 main reasons:

I. Bones is a show about awkward (usually contextually privileged) people with good hearts, and it expresses this core sentiment over and over again using microaggressions:

The little person from the State Department (Alex Radziwill) is called a midget, and Bones ignorantly accosts him about how he approaches his job. It's done in the context of Booth and Bones reacting weirdly to him. By her saying ignorant things that force Booth to confront his own weirdness, they eventually reach an equilibrium with Radziwill, where they treat him like a normal contentious coworker. It's really uncomfortable, and Radziwill has to sit through them getting over themselves.

The He in The She. Do I even have to mention more than the episode title? It takes forever for the cast to wrap their heads around Pastor Patricia Stephenson, a woman whose bones suggest a male, but whose anatomy suggests a female!! Oh no! Booth struggles with using her correct pronouns, and many characters flip flops between, often settling on the masculine pronouns. And yet, the show itself gives credence to how Patricia lived the last parts of her life. It finds the beauty and honesty in how she lived, and we get to see that honored. But not necessarily through the characters, especially the main squint squad.

Arastoo Vaziri. This poor man is just a Muslim who works in the lab. Bones expresses disdain for him being visibly religious. Hodgins straight up discriminates against him, tells him to his face that he doesn't like Vaziri because he's Muslim. Vaziri has to actively attempt to bond with Hodgins to overcome this bias. Cam barely steps in here, and ultimately Vaziri has to suffer the ignorance of those around him. He has to push back about his people being associated with bombs, because white people are terrorists too! He brings out a list!

And these are just main plot points. There are definitely other examples of how these characters awkwardly microaggress their peers and civilians.

II. The interpersonal logic of Bones is predicated on gendered relationships

I cannot count the amount of times a character on Bones said "It's a woman thing," or "It's a guy thing," or "Alpha-male." The more socially adept a character is (Booth, Angela, Cam, Hodgins), the more they lean on these constructs for explaining personal relationships and the more they use gendered constructs for what's permissible in their relationships. Brennan, Zach, and other squints are often actively taught what's okay to do based on gendered rules. "She's a woman," Angela says to Zach, who doesn't understand why a girl isn't calling him back. "It's a guy thing," Angela says to Brennan, confused about something Booth is doing. "It's a guy-hug," Booth says, manipulating Bones into accepting comfort by explaining a gendered rule that he's making up.

In an environment so saturated with these rules, the characters have no idea what to do with the interpersonal reactions they have to Dr. Tanaka (as Clark has established, the characters are constantly using their interpersonal lens at work). So, this mystery makes Dr. Tanaka into a site of intrigue. I'd say both Hodgins and Angela interpret this intrigue as attraction, based both on their desire for/interpretation of Dr. Tanaka as a woman or a man, respectively. The surprise/rethinking that occurs after feeling up Dr. Tanaka's chest is consistent with this mystery/intrigue/psychosexual anxiety of not knowing a gender. (To digress a bit, it's reactions in this vein that created the Trans Panic Defense for murdering trans people).

I'm also unsurprised at Sweets. From his defense of Dr. Tanaka presenting as they want to him standing alongside the hug onlookers out of curiosity, he's the part of the show that's looking forward. He's the planted seed for this episode: that people who don't want to share their gender, it's not your business, even if it's hard to resist the part of you that thinks that.

And honestly, I think that's kind of the core to it.

Bones is a show about privileged professional folks who are often ignorant, but it attempts to plant seeds in their moderate liberal audience about cultures and subcultures. It planted the seed that Radziwill (a little person) was just a coworker using his own advantages, and it's important to treat him like you would another coworker. It planted the seed that Patricia (a trans woman) was right to transition and live her fullest life. It planted the seed that Arastoo (a Muslim) is just a coworker, one who has his own religious life, and Hodgins was the one acting irrationally.

Finally, it planted the seed that Dr. Tanaka is just living their life, and the awkward must-know-their-gender drive didn't really mean anything in the end, except for the team feeling weird about it.

[ravynfyre]

so many people do not understand that 1) animals are not people, and 2) they aren't teaching their animals what they THINK they are teaching them.

dog group on the book of faces, someone is asking for advice on how to get their dog to come to them after the dog is done relieving itself outside. The dog doesn't like coming to them an they spend ten or twenty minutes or more catching the dog each time to bring it in. Which reminded me of one of many attempts to talk a person through trying to fix exactly this same behavior in *many* other dogs over the years...

Me: So, a quick question for you... does the dog not coming to you and you having to chase them down frustrate you?

Them: Of course!

Me: So what do you do when you finally either catch the dog or get them to come to you?

Them: I give the dog a correction!

Me: So. You get hands on your dog and then you immediately punish them for allowing you to get hands on them. And you wonder why your dog has developed the habit of not coming to you?

Them: No, that's not... I'm punishing them for not coming when I call!

Me: Which was.... fifteen minutes ago, or so, you said?

Them: Yes, when I first called them!

Me: Dogs brains literally cannot link an abstract thought like that. A thought and a consequence MUST happen within 2.4 seconds of one another, or the consequence becomes linked to the most recent behavior, thought, or activity. So, tell me... how is your dog supposed to understand that you punishing them is for the event fifteen minutes ago when you have made such a concerted, if unintentional, effort to teach them that them getting close enough for you to lay hands on them in the yard means an immediate punishment?

Them: But that's not what I *meant*!

Me: Doesn't matter what YOU meant... what THEY learned is that they come to you, and they get punished. Stop punishing your dog for the behavior that you want to see more of.

Stop anthropomorphizing your animals, folks. They don't think like us. Stop setting them - and yourself - up for failure.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

I don't think you understand

The mer price fic is absolute perfection.

Like I'm talking a literal masterpiece

This fic will stay engraved in my brain forever. You're an absolutely amazing writer. Thank you ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

anon, THANK you. i am actually thrilled to see other people enjoying mer Price and remora reader as much as i do. please please please let me brain dump more about Price taking remora reader back to his home reef to meet the rest of shark mer 141:

SOAP is enamored instantly because you're so fucking grabbable.

within moments of seeing you peek out from behind Price's tail, he darts around and snatches you up with greedy hands. you're so small!! so tiny and cute when you squirm. and you make noises. 

he handles you like a toy until Price barks at him to cut it out. he does (and Price makes him promise not to be so rough with you; you're fragile, he claims) but Soap is incorrigible.

he follows you for days afterward. just obsessed. he loves chasing your silver tail as you dart around the reef, trying to hide from him. when he catches up to you, you have little choice but to give in and let him manhandle you. he certainly toes the line of whatever Price meant when he said no rough play, you little shit, i mean it.

he pushes the limits of your docile nature. when you do eventually reach the end of your patience and dart out of his hands just to get a break from his grabby claws, guess what? you've triggered his prey drive and he gives chase. he catches you, of course, and then before he can stop himself, he bites you.

your squeal brings Price out into the open instantly and Soap gets an earful again. he grins at you the whole time as you hide over Price's shoulder.

after that, Soap gets a little craftier about it. he eases up just enough to figure out exactly how playful (rough) he can be before you can't take any more. he learns how to stop just shy of making you shriek again. Price is aware, but he's a little too indulgent to stop it. he's happy to let Soap have his fun as long as he doesn't break you. you just have to suck it up. that indulgent nature is how you ended up with Price in the first place, after all.

goes without saying, but Soap is the first one to use you as a sex toy.

GHOST seems to take zero interest in you at first. you're not the sharpest urchin in the tide pool, are you? you can't be if you're here willingly. he figures you won't stick around long, and if you do, you won't stay intact.

you attempt to take up grooming his skin and tail and teeth as you do with the others. he moves away from you without a word, lashing his scarred tail to re-settle himself several feet away.

if you follow and try to groom him again, you earn a deep growl.

you dart off the moment he voices that rumbling displeasure. he notes your skittishness around him and uses it to make you leave him alone.

you, however, have a job to do. you won't be scared off that easily.

after he chases you off that way a few times, you begin to find him and simply sit near him. mirroring him. no big deal. instead of grooming him, you use the time to groom yourself. can't keep everyone else clean if you're grimy, after all.

he notices you and growls to warn you off again. you pretend not to hear.

he flicks his tail in irritation, considers cuffing you over the head to teach you a lesson, but you're too far away to reach without kicking his whole big self up into the water to move several feet. so he elects instead to turn over and ignore you. you keep this up for several days. you sit a little closer every time.

one day, you finish cleaning your own tail fin and casually begin to clean his. he growls. you pause. when he stops and does nothing further, you resume your work. he growls again, and you continue grooming him as if you don't hear him. he keeps growling, but once you begin to run your claws over a stubborn patch of skin to dislodge some stuck grit that's been bothering him, his growling fades into grumbling. and then silence. he lets you keep at it. victory.

this becomes a habit. you seek him out (never the other way around) and typically find him lazing on the floor of some cave or sunning in the reef's shallows. you set to work grooming him thoroughly. all business. he grumbles and growls occasionally when you move his arm or tug your fingers through his hair, but he never stops you.

one day, Soap comes looking for you and finds you in the middle of this little cleaning ritual. Soap nudges you away, insisting you instead let him chase you around the reef. but the moment your hands leave Ghost's rough skin and he hears you protest, he opens his eyes and snaps his teeth at Soap.

Soap pulls back (and so do you) until Ghost grasps your lil wrist and drags you back down wordlessly to where you were sitting and cleaning his shoulder.

Soap smirks at him. Ghost glares back.

"you got something to say, then say it."

"here i thought you were toleratin' it for her sake. seems i misjudged the situation."

"there is no situation."

"whatever you say."

Soap leaves with a flick of his tail. you're so pleased that, when you're finished grooming Ghost, you burrow yourself between his arms as he lays on his side. you nuzzle into his neck and bunt your head up against him, practically purring now that you know you've apparently won him over.

he grabs you, pretending to be disgruntled, but then instead of releasing you he crushes you against his chest again and settles in for a nap. no, you don't get to leave.

GAZ wonders what exactly is going on inside your head. it doesn't escape his notice that your """instincts""" seem to have you by the throat in this situation. but he suspects you're leaning a bit more into that whole brainless servant thing than you're letting on.

he's perfectly happy to let you groom him, flatter him, fetch him whatever baubles or snacks he'd like at the moment; he's perfectly polite to you, too. really likes it when you butter him up. tell him he's got the sharpest teeth and the strongest muscles and the fastest tail in the reef and he'll listen to you for hours, preening in the sunlight as you clean the grime off his fins.

plus, he praises you too, and you love that. that's why it takes you so long to notice he's watching you much more closely than anyone else is.

see, you've already disarmed Price. Soap sees you as a toy more than a fellow mer. Ghost cares more about finding the best places to lurk around than understanding the little mer that shares their reef now. it's fascinating--how you've successfully passed yourself off as a silly, stupid little fish. the more he watches you, analyzes you, the more he wonders what exactly you're getting out of this.

when you groom him each day, he asks you questions. casual ones. are you enjoying the reef? what games do you like to play? how fast can you swim? how many other mer have you met? are you eating enough? what's your favorite food?

it's enough to make you wary, but then, he seems harmless. you're honest with him. it pays off, because when you tell him how much you like the taste of those little brown seabirds that dip into the reef from time to time, you're shocked the next day to find one of those very seabirds sitting dead--neck cleanly snapped--just for you in the shallow alcove next to where Price sleeps (and you by extension).

you find Gaz that instant and insist it's too kind a gift; you can't accept it. what you can't tell him is that it's not a good idea for you to eat in front of them. you eat scraps, and you eat them where of them can see. that's the deal--obviously you do what you do for these four sharks in exchange for protection and ostensibly for food, but you need to avoid looking like you're taking more than your fair share. and to sharks, a species that is notoriously food-aggressive, your fair share must be vanishingly small.

he just smiles at you--so disarmingly that you flounder for a moment. somehow he convinces you to keep the kill.

he begins to turn up--looking amused but not surprised--when you steal scraps of food after the group has had its fill of a fresh kill. it makes you nervous for him to see you with food in hand (much less to watch you eat) but he scoffs at the idea of holding it against you. 

at some point, he begins to bring you fresh meat himself. this is-- it's unacceptable. you're supposed to be the one working while he rests. he's not allowed to give you that kind of comfort. if you're not earning your keep, after all, you don't have a place here. you push his gifts away, busying yourself with some other task. he insists. you decline.

"you're refusing me?" he asks, feigning surprise. "i thought that went against your instincts."

you fluster, ruffling up in what he assumes is a pout. he's trapped you in a catch-22. ultimately, you have to accept the stupid meat-gift because it's what he wants. you find this makes you more irritable than it should. he smirks at you, which serves to irritate you more.

he pulls you into his lap as you eat. and he thinks it's so cute the way you scowl the whole time.

from then on, whenever you act a little too stupid for his liking, he pries and pokes and prods until he draws out that other, haughtier side of you. he has a knack for frustrating you. he loves to sass you, and when you finally drop the act and sass him back, he falls a little bit more in love with you every time.

...

more mer au / masterlist tag

[ddejavvu]

pairing: james potter x reader

summary: your yule ball date goes south. James picks up the pieces

a/n: this is relatively close to a scene that's gonna be in a large marauders fic i've had as a WIP for forever so if you read that in a year and think hm that sounds vaguely familiar no it literally doesn't

You've never felt any strong kinship towards James Potter before, but now, shoulder to shoulder, equally stunned looks on your faces, you know you share an experience most don't.

"Well," James hums, dazedly, free from anger even if it should be present, "Alright then."

Neither of your should-be ball dates look up from where they're snogging each other in one of the utility closets covered up by paper streamers and an appetizer table, and you feel irritation begin blooming in your chest the way that they won't even look at you. Perhaps they can't hear you, perhaps there's fireworks in their heads and they're sharing one of those everything-else-melts-away moments.

Good for them.

You turn on your stiletto heel and head pointedly but casually towards the door to the balcony. You're eager for the cool night air on your skin- the crowd seems suffocating now. You snag a bottle of something you're sure was meant for the professors on the way out, keeping it tucked to your side to ensure no one sees you leave with it. It's amber in color and you'll figure out what it is later; right now your only concern is getting out.

You examine your feelings staring out over the grounds, moonlight bathing your skin and making the gems on your dress glimmer. You should be sad. Devastated, even, what with your date shacking up with some other girl when he should have been dancing with you. But you're not.

It's an unpleasant feeling, but it's betrayal more than heartbreak. You suppose you were never really head over heels for the boy you'd agreed to go with, it was just nice to be asked. To be wanted.

A wistful love song leaks out from the open doors to the ballroom, and you chew on its lyrics as you fit your mouth around the spout of your bottle. It warms you, your tongue suddenly heavy and tingling as you swallow a fair mouthful of the stuff.

"That was a sloppy grab," Someone calls from behind you, and you're surprisingly not tense when you recognize it as Potter's, "Someone could have seen you."

"We're not all mischief makers, Potter," You let the ghost of a smile cross your face as you stare out over the grounds, liquor residue leaving them sticky, "You should teach a class on smuggling things in and out of the school."

"I have thought about being a professor here," He admits, taking the place beside you and leaning out over the railing, "DADA if I could get it. Don't think Minnie's goin' anywhere or I'd go for Transfiguration."

"She'll be teaching our grandkids," You laugh, "And god save this school if you're ever hired."

"I'd be great." He assures you, a laugh in his eyes rather than his mouth, "So. Are you- ehm, okay?"

"Yeah." You shrug, your bare shoulders catching the slight breeze where your dress cuts them out, "It's- I'm fine. He wasn't the love of my life. Just sucks he lead me on is all."

"Right. Me too." James nods, "I- I wanted things to work with her. But I suppose in ten years I saw myself with someone else."

You attempt another sip of liquor after a bout of heavy silence, but James's hand holds the bottle away from your mouth, "Hey, slow down, killer! Liver failure is not a good method of revenge."

"Two sips won't kill me," You scoff, but you don't fight him when his large, warm hand takes the bottle from you, "You just want some for yourself."

"Yes and no." He grins, taking a swig of his own, "For courage, I s'pose. And dance moves."

You raise a brow at him, listening as the song changes from a ballad to a swinging one, something that makes you want to let loose and experiment with moves you've seen only middle-aged men showcase at weddings.

"Come on." He offers you a hand, setting the bottle aside and straightening off of the railing, "Come on, you've gotten dressed up to dance tonight, and there's no one else out on this balcony. Just you and me, let's do it."

"I got dressed up tonight to fuck," You clarify, but you're not sure if you really mean it- anything to ward away any good luck that comes to you before it sours like most things seem to be tonight.

"Well that can come after. I'm not fond of exhibitionism," James explains, hand still outstretched as you straighten your dress instead of taking it, "Come on. I'm about to lay out some truly heinous dance moves and I'll be making a fool out of myself if you don't join me."

The beat of the song really is tempting, an oldie but goodie that you'd danced to in your bedroom a thousand times before.

With a decisive huff you surge forwards, taking his hand and letting yourself relax into the rhythm the song sets for the pair of you. James is not wrong- he's a sight to behold while he's dancing, but you let him be your example and soon you're both choking on laughter as you swing each other across the balcony and dance circles around each other. The song dies down into another ballad and you let James press you politely against him, his hands never straying further than your waist as you hold his shoulders.

"I'm almost glad he ditched me," You muse, chest heaving slightly from exertion, "I don't think he would have danced with me like that."

"Mine was- uhm, she wasn't fantastic conversation." James admits, "I feel bad, but-"

"No, she's an airhead." You nod, knowing all too well that the girl James had escorted into the ballroom tonight did perhaps everything in her power to never have an intelligent thought, "It's harsh but it's true."

He nods, and your head comes to rest comfortably against his chest, cheek pressed into his dress robes.

"Thanks, James." You murmur, squeezing his shoulders gently. You feel more than hear his response, but the soft, suddenly tender, 'My pleasure, Y/N.' warms you more than the liquor had, the perfect antidote to the cool air out on the balcony as you sway in time with James.

[mayxxday]

how bakugou would react to his child telling his mom to shut up?

Katsuki has always had his doubts when it came to parenthood. However the first day he held his baby boy to his chest after his birth, he felt all his fears disappear in thin air. The comfortable weight of his tyke somehow was enough to silence his fears of being a good father.

When he found his little brat inherited the same quirk as him, he was over the moon. Their bond only grew stronger and stronger through their endless training and practice at his agency. After all, if Katsuki was anything, he was a family man.

With his son growing in a young adolescent, Katsuki could see only more of himself in his boy. The same brash attitude he once strutted around the campus of his middle school. Their mannerisms hardly differed as they sat discussing on the couch, his sweet little wife tucked under his arm.

"This is heaven" He couldn't help but think. There he was, living a life his younger self could never have imagined. Yet this was all he needed. The most important two people of his life, right here with him. The explosive pro hero's train of thought was rudely interrupted however by the loud sneer of his son.

"Shut it mom- we're busy"

The words that left his son's mouth in a fleeting moment, left a bitter look on Katsuki's face. How could Katsuki ever miss the way his wife tensed under his arm, a look at her and he would have seen the tears that rushed to her lash line. However he didn't know if he was strong enough to see that at the moment.

Had he not been holding his wife to his side, he would have flown into a rage. Katsuki loved his boy to pieces, but his wife had been the one to teach him how to love. His wife had stuck out his explosiveness, all the crude remarks and his constant hot and cold behavior throughout his UA years, and made herself a home in his heart. So no matter who it was, Katsuki wasn't gonna have it.

"What did you say, brat!"

Katsuki snaps back, his voice dangerously low as if daring his son to try to repeat himself. Holding his wife protectively to his side, his thumb subconsciously rubs circles on her arm in an attempt to comfort her, while his teen could only look at him dumbfounded. Frozen still in place for Katsuki was never like this at home, his anger never directed towards him especially.

"Dad I-"

"Apologize. Now."

Katsuki said coldly. He wasn't the one for any dumb excuses and his son's malicious tone towards his wife wasn't something he was just gonna tolerate.

"Katsu, it's okay"

He could hear his wife mumble softly, her warm hand pressed his chest, coaxing him gently to let go of the matter. He was only a teenager after all, isn't this what they do, his wife believed. Katsuki however, didn't believe the same. Had the remark been directed towards Katsuki he would have let go of it, getting back to him a crude comment of himself, but this was his sweet little wife. He couldn't even remember one instance of her raising her voice to discipline their son, she's always been kind and gentle in her parenting methods, offering only the utmost support. So no, it wasn't okay in eyes Katsuki's eyes.

"I'm sorry mom... I shouldn't have done that. I didn't- ..mean to"

His son replies, his head hung shamefully as he takes a moment to reflect what he had just done. Katsuki had raised him to be gentleman through and through. Every step of the way, reminding him how his mother deserved only the best in the world. So for him to snap at his mom was out of character for him, but he would say the stress of school and preparing for UA was getting to him, resulting in him snapping at the only person his heart trusted not to hate him for it.

"Try that once more and we'll have long talk about it. And I can promise you the next time we train you won't have it easy"

Katsuki threatens lightly, knowing he had the little smack to his chest coming as his wife chuckled shyly as his protective instinct. Maybe he meant it, but his wife didn't have to know that he wasn't kidding. Of course he would never hurt his own son, but of course he could tire him out until his body had no energy to snap at his own mother of all people.

His wife's chuckle however was enough to lighten the air around them. The little bakugou earning a little tug on his ear to make sure he understood his lesson. All the while he smiled sheepishly, moving to sit on the floor in front of his mother, burying his head in her lap as a silent apology, seeking her reassurance.

Katsuki could have been the strongest damn hero to exist, but again, he was only a family man after all and the sight was enough to soften his iron heart. His wife tucked under his arm, rubbing the head of his now teen boy.

"brat"

Katsuki mumbles softly, tucking his wife's under his chin as he starts his earful lecture for his son about his wife being 'the most damn amazing woman on earth' and how he needs to do better he's gonna be a true bakugou, because in this family, we love our only woman.

That night, Katsuki slept with his head tucked in his wife's neck, whispering sorry's for not being a good father enough for this to happen in the first place. His worries however were soothed with an array of kisses on any skin his wife could reach, all pressed with a "you're the best father our baby could have had".

p.s. thank you soooooo much for the ask! I had so much fun writing this. I hope you like it <33

[preqwells]

cw: 18+, afab, fingering, p in v, read part 1 of mechanic konig here

mechanic! konig would definitely become clingy after what you thought was your one-night stand.

staying true to his word, your new lovely mechanic named könig followed through with teaching you the basics of a car. how to check the dipstick that was in your oil tank so you'd know when you needed an oil change, checking the tire pressure so you didn't find yourself in a situation you didn't want to end up in-- he was thorough, diligent-- he found himself caring more than usual as he explained these things to you. "so, when it gets to this mark?" you softly inquired, pressing your fingernail to the mark you assumed he had pointed to. "no, maus-- here. if you base it off where you just pointed, well… good luck." he mumbled, a tinge of amusement in his tone. he kept his thick digit on the dipstick, slick oil making his index finger glisten under the sun. you attempted to train your brain to think of anything but what it wanted to think, honestly. you let out another sheepish chuckle, nodding obediently at any pointers he was kind enough to give you.

call it luck or fate, but könig didn't have the serpentine belt you so desperately needed to have installed in your car to get to work tomorrow. könig felt a hint of excitement-- this meant you needed a ride home, right? könig was kind enough to offer you a ride… well, an actual ride which you vehemently refused at first. you had never been one to ask favors of others, certainly not a stranger you just met even if your conscience screamed at you to do otherwise. "i can't-- i can't cover any additional costs…" you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes fell to the ground out of embarrassment. your helplessness was cute-- the pout that tugged at the fullness of your lips, your shy demeanor-- how had he gone so long without seeing such a sweetheart around town? "nein, it won't cut into what you already owe me. it'll be cheaper taking a ride from me than getting an uber, anyways." he insisted, catching onto the way you previously mentioned cutting back on expenses. you couldn't argue with him-- or more like, you didn't want to.

during the car ride home, könig would sneak glances at you-- whether it be at red lights or when he turned the corner. he couldn't help the way his eyes would roam your figure, and you even caught glimpses of his lingering gaze. you weren't stupid, and neither was he-- the tension was palpable, almost tangible. he guided you to your door, his hand splayed across the small of your back, thick digits bracing you. "um… well, thanks-- for everything." you quickly got out, wanting the interaction to be over so you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself. everything felt so intimate-- the way he touched you, stole glances at you-- it felt out of character for you since you had only known him maybe for half the day. könig remained quiet for a moment, drinking in every reaction you had. your head tilted upward, looking up at him through your lashes as he kept your gaze. the atmosphere suddenly felt thick, intense. "no problem. couldn't let you go home without knowing you were safe." his voice dropped an octave, his head dipping lower to insert himself in your personal bubble. your breath hitched as you nodded, opening the door as his forearms leaned against the doorframe, the heavy tools on his belt exposing a sliver of skin along with a tuft of hair right above his groin.

"well… i'm safe." "are you?" "mhm." "how're you gonna get back to my shop tomorrow?"

your brain short-circuited at the heady mix of the bluntness of his words and his stature, your mouth slightly agape. he let out a low chuckle before his index finger found the belt loop of your pants, pulling you into his space. you mumbled out a weak 'i dunno'-- that answer wasn't good enough for him. "… i could stay the night… won't cut into what you already owe me, maus." he reiterated his earlier point, the boldness of his words coated in mirth. his face was brought closer to your own, his black lashes hanging low over his eyes. your hands found purchase on his biceps before his lips brushed against yours, putting a silence to any lingering tension from earlier as your eyes fluttered closed. he put every ounce of being into the kiss-- hell, he wished you could've broken your serpentine belt earlier if it meant a pretty thing like you could've stepped into his shop sooner than you did. he backed you into your apartment, his hand closing the door hurriedly. "fuck-- you just had to walk into my shop, didn't you?" he gruffed out between kisses, annoyed at the feeling of how quickly he already found himself half-hard.

you parted your lips to squeak out a half-hearted apology before könig used this opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, coaxing a sweet moan from you which elicited a wicked grin from könig. könig led you into your bedroom, gently placing you at the head of the bed as his teeth nipped at every area of skin he could think of-- your neck, your collarbone, underneath your breast when he managed to get your shirt off. the whines and whimpers that escaped you only urged him to continue, didn't you know? stupid of you, really-- to think you weren't going to end the night with his fingers readying you to split you open on his heavy cock. his head lolled back when he did eventually find his length rubbing snugly against the slickness of your walls, your eyes blinking away tears from the initial stretch. he quickly caught wind of this as he halted his movements, arching down as his lips pressed against your cheek.

"s'okay, maus-- know i'm kind of a fit, eh? just tell me when it's okay to move." he cooed to which you quickly nodded, exhaling a sigh you didn't know you were holding. as you signaled for him to start moving, his thrusts were almost borderline calculated, precise-- you didn't seem to be complaining about it from the string of moans you were letting out, anyway. it didn't take long for his thrusts to grow sloppy, a mix of your wetness and the sound of skin slapping together filling the room. the way you keened, your brows knitted so closely together from pleasure, your lips swollen and red from the earlier make-out session-- yeah, this is where könig needed to be; buried deep into your drooling pussy.

the night came to an end as did your time with könig-- hell, you could barely remember falling asleep. you went to sleep with the thought that you'd wake up to an empty bed, trying to conjure ways for it not to be so awkward when you did eventually go to pick up a car. you'd never really had a one-night stand before-- how do you even face someone who was practically balls-deep in you the night before? what you didn't expect when morning came was the soft kisses that rained upon your cheek, waking you out of a well-deserved sleep. your eyes slowly opened, scanning the room and taking in the sight of yourself under the covers. you were… clean? no traces of stickiness between your legs, no sweat sticking to your skin. your head turned to the side to be greeted with the sight of könig with bed-head, his hair twisted in every way imaginable. your eyebrows furrowed together out of confusion-- you were fully expecting him to leave. könig caught on quickly to your confusion, his elbow propped up on the mattress as his palm rested on the side of his cheek. he returned your look of confusion as if daring you to say something.

"what? we have to go pick up your car today, don't we?"

[ozzgin]

Yandere!School Q&A 2

Answering some of the questions involving the Yandere School universe. Gender neutral reader, mildly NSFW/suggestive in parts.

Just curious, is there a difference between men and women in the yandere/darling academy?

Not at all. In theory, there could be a difference in uniforms, as seen from the occasional depiction of skirts, but that's really up to the student. As in, they can wear either, regardless of gender.

When it comes to you, on the other hand...I feel like they'd either ask you to wear pants, or heavily reinforced skirts. Too many creepshots and perverted attempts otherwise.

I know the yandere school verse is meant to be silly but I’m genuinely invested in the lore and worldbuilding now. What classes are taught in both schools? Do the darlings resent the yanderes? WOULD THEY BEAT THE YANDERE STUDENT’S ASS IF THEY GOT FOUND OUT??? SO MANY QUESTIONS SMFKEDKK

To be honest, I still haven't considered all the logistics!

I'm imagining a mix of both when it comes to classes: you have yandere-specific courses, and then general subjects with some practical applications. Obviously you can't do without mathematics, for example. If you don't understand double integrals, how will you determine the area you need to cover to reach your Darling who's running for the hills?

Also, I don't think the Darlings would be too upset. After all, they are studying solely to find themselves a yandere one day. What is a little baffling is that out of all the damn darlings in school, this guy ends up chasing after a ‘yandere’ student.

One of the Yanderes at Yandere Academy is bound to be a Platonic, and they're probably going insane watching every student and teacher going after the school Darling. Do you think they'd be on the staff or a fellow student?

There's plenty of platonic yanderes, both among the students and teaching staff. They make up the security brigade, ensuring your safety and keeping dangers away. If other students let their infatuation go overboard, they will be quick to correct it.

In fact, this is where their yandere skills shine most. Taking care of you.

Ohh what about yan art teacher using reader as the model for nude portraits in class?

That'd be like opening Pandora's box. What's to guarantee that the students won't go feral? Even as a regular model, removing any article of clothing within the artistic depictions is strictly forbidden. The other teachers already have to sort through stacks of confiscated fanart involving you, they don't need a boost in lewd creations.

Unless you mean a private encounter with Yan!Art Teacher for some extra credit. That's a whole different story. 👀

for your yandere school au if I was in readers situation, and I got a free full?? scholarship?/ to a fancy school?/? I no longer need to go along with family tradition I’m getting that free scholarship it’s not like I particularly needed a bunch of people to stalk me 🤷

I'm kind of hoping that Yandere School comes with a full scholarship, too. Bonus points if they offer legacy benefits. Reader comes from several generations of graduates, after all.

Not to mention, you already have a bunch of people stalking you, if we are to count the yandere family members. You'll feel right at home.

The darling is christian in some other scenarios right? What if in sex ed class, she said that she would only do that if she got married? Imagine every single yanderes trying to be a good husband material but the darling is so damn clueless about it

I don't think the religion was ever specified, but you're free to imagine it however you'd like, anon. I can definitely picture the yandere students perking their ears at such statement and taking it as a challenge. You want to wait until marriage? Then they’ll bring the marriage over right now. You have to wonder if there’s some current fashion trend you’re unaware of, as every student has asked for your opinion in rings. You’d assumed it’s a question involving their own, personal acquisitions, so now there’s a bunch of classmates fighting outside because they all got different answers and clearly only one of them holds truth.

That one teacher who got all those accidental smut submissions about Y/N is gonna be feasting tonight

I suspect most teachers have a neatly organized storage full of content involving you. Whether it's accidental submissions, confiscated doodles, illegal photos and so on. Hell, they probably trade the stuff like collectibles.

"You got the fic I asked for?" one teacher asks lowly, resting against the wall.

"Uh huh."

Another teacher swipes through a thick folder with the efficacy of someone who does this too often.

Imagine yandere school y/n slips up and accidently calls a teacher mom/dad. Or worse (or perhaps better depending on who it is), mommy/daddy. y/n is embarrassed, yandere students are jealous, and teacher is now horny.

Terrifying affair. The teacher will have to evade weeks, maybe even months of assassination attempts coming from the students and parents. Reader probably joked about it at the dinner table once, and the mom/dad has been spiraling ever since. How could such a mistake happen? Have they neglected their darling child?

“I-It’s not what it looks like!” one student will stutter, terrified to find Reader’s parent behind them.

“I’d say it’s pretty obvious, you’re doing a terrible job. Hand me the binoculars”, they demand in a whisper, glaring at the object of their envious stalking: the teacher.

How would the readers parents/fam react if the reader complained about the school staff or a student? [Gym teacher dress coding reader] With this as personally speaking I would be really annoyed. The yan family could also take it as an insult because I know for a fact they make sure the reader has all the best stuff. As well how they're bothering or unfairly treating the reader. And if the yan fam connects that the school is yan (students and staff) they would FLIP OUT. But that's out of the point

I’d say it depends on their relationship. Remember, Reader’s parents are graduates of Yandere School, so it’s entirely possible they were taught by the very same teachers and staff. Thus, they might be reluctant to question their authority.

“You have to understand, I had my best intentions in mind”, gym teacher will explain to the parents with a solemn face.

“No, you’re right. We’ve seen the way those kids look at our (Y/N). Who knows what perverted thoughts linger in their mind?”

The grey-haired man dabs a handkerchief across his forehead, visibly paler.

“E-exactly. It was all to protect (Y/N) from any indecent, uh, risks.”

Gym teacher prob got a forest downstairs

Only one way to find out. Better put on your adventurer's hat! 👅

Okay but like, the poor principal having to deal with the entire Yan!academy

He probably stares in the mirror every morning, noticing yet another grey hair, or that his eyebags have gotten worse. He's going to need an early retirement. "I tried my best", he mumbles to the portraits of the previous principals.

How would the yandere school react to reader being hypersexual? P.s can I be raccoon 🦝 anon? [I'm afraid you'll have to pick a different emoji, anon, as raccoon is already taken]

I mean, I can totally picture a playboy/playgirl kind of Reader who skips class to smooch one of the students in a storage room. Or Reader getting too flustered and excited and begging one of the teachers for "help" after school. I'm sure most would comply without hesitation.

Though you may have to deal with a horde of jealous partners who don't like to share. Next thing you know, you have to compile a sexy time chart and schedule the smooching to fit everyone in.

hai ! this is related to yandere school, i’m curious to know what if reader decided to accept the scholarship to darling academy? like i can imagine readers parents worried and proud while clumsy yandere is absolutely celebrating abt it :D

Knowing Reader’s luck and Clumsy!Yandere’s misfortune, I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s more yandere students lurking the Darling Academy grounds. Or even worse, some darlings begin to develop intense feelings for Reader. Worry not, your clumsy best friend will always come to your rescue.

[spider-stark]

house of the dragon masterlist // link to my general masterlist

General Warnings -

⚔️ This blog is 18+

🛡️ This particular masterlist currently contains only Aegon II Targaryen, Benjicot Blackwood, Aeron Bracken, Gwayne Hightower, and Criston Cole. however, i am open to writing about other hotd characters

⚔️ All of these fic's contain dark themes or content that is considered inappropriate by some readers, so adhere warnings! I am not responsible for your content consumption; so please read responsibly!

🛡️ If you happen to notice that something is not tagged appropriately or you feel a fic needs a particular warning, please let me know and I will do my best to correct this mistake.

⚔️ And, as always, happy reading!

A CRUEL FATE

⚔️ SUMMARY - Having been in love with Aegon your entire life, you always assumed that he never felt the same. Now set to wed his brother, Aemond, your frustration finally peaks and leads to you confessing your feelings.

🛡️ WARNINGS - suggestive language/actions, light use of y/n (sorry), sad aegon lol, obvious incest

LITTLE DRAGON

⚔️ SUMMARY - Your elder brother, Jace, attempts to teach you how to wield a sword. Aegon, your new betrothed, interrupts.

🛡️ WARNINGS - slight Jace x Reader, incest

THE CONQUEROR'S CROWN

⚔️ SUMMARY - After being captured by a member of the Kingsguard on your way to Winterfell, Aegon calls for you in the throne room.

🛡️ WARNINGS - light smut, oral, kidnapping, blades/blood, possible hematolagnia, eludes disappointed mom!rhaenyra (absolutely no bashing tho), and obvious incest

JEALOUSY

⚔️ SUMMARY - Dealing with the consequences of making Aegon jealous

🛡️ WARNINGS - abusive/toxic relationship, definite masochism, choking, brief mentions of blood, brief mentions of blades, targcest

PRECIPICE

⚔️ SUMMARY - Forced to attend a stuffy ball, you find yourself hiding beneath a table with Aegon.

🛡️ WARNINGS - implied targcest

SPARRING PARTNER

⚔️ SUMMARY - You and Aegon have hardly spoken since sharing a particularly sensual moment a month ago. Now he thinks he stands a chance in a sparring match.

🛡️ WARNINGS - implied targcest, hints to smut, blood, horny/stupid argon & reader

SWORN RIVALS

⚔️ SUMMARY - Taking up sparring with your sworn rival is likely never a good idea.

🛡️ WARNINGS - kieran burton fan cast, all character 18+, barely edited, blood, implied fighting, suggestive language but no real smut, likely ooc given that the episode hasn't even aired yet lmao

LADY STRONG

⚔️ SUMMARY - Stuck in the Riverland's on a marriage tour, you pretend to be Lady Strong when Benjicot Blackwood doesn't recognize you as the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms

🛡️ WARNINGS - kieran burton fan cast, all character 18+, not edited!!

THE BRIDGE

⚔️ SUMMARY - Your wardship with House Blackwood was meant to bridge the chasm between your families. Years later, you return to Stone Hedge as the whispers of war spread—only for Lord Tully to call for a hunt.

🛡️ WARNINGS - fem!reader, complicated sibling relationship, fighting, (probably excessive) mentions of blood, talks about hunting/killing wild animals, !angst!, adult language, reader def suffering from identity crisis, probably deviates from canon some, kieran burton fan cast for benji, all characters 18+

THE GOLD TANKARD

⚔️ SUMMARY - Benji is a regular at the tavern you work at—and you're starting to think he's forgetting his coin on purpose.

🛡️ WARNINGS - fem!reader, kieran burton fan cast, all characters 18+, suggestive/sexual language, not edited bc I'm lazy and wrote this for fun in like an hour

GOLD

⚔️ SUMMARY - You go sneaking through Bracken territory for some time alone with Aeron.

🛡️ WARNINGS - fem!reader, blackwood!reader, mentions of blood, mentions of fighting, no real plot, hurt/comfort, subtle rivals-to-lovers, aeron grabbing boobies lmao, maybe some grammar errors idk

LITTLE BRACKEN KNIGHT

⚔️ SUMMARY - You sneak into Aeron's room at Stone Hedge.

🛡️ WARNINGS - fem!reader, blackwood!reader not edited, suggestive language, hints towards smut but there is none, secret relationship trope ig, blackwood!reader being a little shit

A CONVERSATION BETWEEN OLD FRIENDS

⚔️ SUMMARY - Devotion will never be enough to make the Gods forgive you for the sin of your existence. They will keep finding new ways to punish you.

🛡️ WARNINGS - fem!reader, bastard!reader, septa!reader, mostly edited, heavy religious themes & guilt, angst, yearning, *slightly* ooc gwayne but mostly cause he's drunk and bitter lmao

SWORN PROTECTOR

⚔️ SUMMARY - After sneaking back into the Keep from a night spent out in the city, you find your sworn protector, Ser Criston Cole, waiting for you in your room.

🛡️ WARNINGS - fem!reader, targtower!reader, not edited, reader has mommy/daddy issues, duty turned devotion type bullshit, criston can't just guard a woman without falling in love ig, yearning

[kenzie-floops]

Visions of You: A Lilia Calderu x femaledivination!reader

Heyyyy this is my return to fanfic, but it's been a while so I'm a bit rusty. Constructive criticism not insults please! If you don't like it.. don't read it, it's that's simple.

This will be the first part of a new series I'm working on called Visions of You. Reader is a female divinations witch, around the same age as Lilia, but physical appearance is up to you. More will be revealed later, but a happy ending is in store!

If you'd like to be added to the tag list, or taken off, let me know!

Warnings: cussing

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

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

I roll over and peep open my eyes to look at my alarm clock. 12:42. What the hell is someone banging on my door this time of day for? 

I push myself up out of bed, and wrap my robe around myself as I make my way to the door. 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! 

“I’m coming, i’m coming!” I shouted. Could they bang any harder on my door?!?

I quickly grab the front door and thrust it open, blinking quickly at the sunlight. 

“Yes? What do you need so urgently you almost banged my door down?” I grumpily ask the two strangers standing at my door as I attempt to wipe away some of the groggy sleep from my eyes. 

“Oh!” A shrill voice pipes up. “Sorry about that, we’re just in a bit of a rush. Didn’t mean to give you such a harsh wake-up. Although it is past noon on a weekday…” The voice trails off and I snap my head up.

I had to pick up an extra shift last night at the club because one of the other bottle girls had gotten sick. That meant working on my feet for longer than usual, and I was definitely tired from the extra hours.

“Listen kiddo, i work the night shift down at the club and i’ve only been asleep for a couple hours, so excuse me if i’m a little grumpy at the fact some kid was banging on my door while i'm trying to rest” i huff out with impatience. “Now will you kindly get off my doorstep? I don’t want your cookies, or t-shirts or whatever the hell it is you’re selling”. 

I turned to close the door when the woman I hadn't noticed standing next to the teenager spoke. 

“Seriously, Y/N? Working at the local club? I didn’t think you had the guts for stripping” she says while snickering. 

I bristle at the insult. “Now just wait a minute here. I’m not a stripper, I'm a bottle girl! And who are you to throw around judgment, showing up on my front door when I don't even know…” I trail off as i get a good look at her face and recognize just who’s come to bother me. No way…

“Well holy shit!” I exclaim, throwing my hands up in the air. I lean against the door frame and look her up and down slowly.  “Now that’s a face I haven't seen in a few centuries. Agatha fucking Harkness! Can’t say I've missed your presence. What brings you to my doorstep?” 

“I’ve got a proposition for you. Mind if we come in?” she questions as she gestures inside.

I throw my head back in laughter before turning around to go inside, leaving the door ajar. 

“Sure!” I yell over my shoulder. “Come on in. I’m gonna make some tea.” 

Both Agatha and the boy trail after me into the kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the boy following my movements as he takes in my kitchen. It’s full of dried herbs and flowers hanging from faded yellow walls. I fling open my aged brown cabinets and rifle around for a mason jar of tea leaves. 

As I prepare my water to boil and place the tea leaves in a sachet I ask “So, what brings you by Agatha? Looking for me to join you on one of your latest murder sprees in the search for some powerful totem?” 

I turn from the counter to face them, seeing that Agatha has already made herself comfortable at my small dining table. The boy was standing awkwardly behind her. 

I look the boy up and down and raise my eyebrows at Agatha. “What’s with the boy?” i question, “Finally taken on an apprentice to teach your dark and evil ways to? He seems quite young to be following in your trail of corrupted darkness.” 

The boy goes to respond, but Agatha cuts him off. “No, no, no, this is Teen and he’s…” She trails off a bit and I go to finish pouring my tea. Teen? That’s a strange name. Whatever. He got himself involved with Harkness, not my problem to deal with. 

“ A pet. Yes!” she exclaims, clapping her hands. “He’s my pet. Now listen Y/N i have a proposition for you.” 

I roll my eyes at her. “Agatha, I really don’t know what’s got you at my house stirring shit up, but I can assure you I'm not interested. If your undoubtedly dangerous proposal was all you came for, you best be going now.” 

I move to usher her out the door before ‘Teen’ shouts out. “We’re going on the Witches Road and we want you to join us!” 

He looks down a bit sheepishly as I give a bug eyed stare. 

“Please?” he hesitantly asks. “We need a divination witch and the road will give you what you want most if you join us.” He’s gotta be kidding. The Road is a death wish. 

I swiftly turn to Agatha, who shakes her head in exasperation at Teen. 

“Really, Agatha?!” I exclaim, throwing my hand up in the air and moving wildly around the room. “The Road is a death wish. No one makes it through. What have you deluded this poor boy into thinking?” 

“She hasn’t deluded me!”, Teen replies. “It was my idea actually.” 

I bury my head in my hands. No way am I joining Agatha Harknesse’s coven to journey down the Witches Road. I am not that crazy, despite what some may think and say.

“Oh hell no. Thank you but no thank you for the offer. I plan on staying alive for the foreseeable future. Harkness, take the boy and leave,” I whip around to face her, “ and please don’t come back. I don’t need whatever's got you spooked enough to go on the witches road coming after me”. 

“Oh come on!” she exasperatedly yells. “We both know you’ve been searching for something you’re never gonna find Y/N.” How the hell does she know about that? I’ve never told her of my visions of her. But then again, I asked around for decades. Maybe she caught wind of it through the grapevine of the witch community. 

“Travel the Witches Road with me” she offers. “The Road will give you what you want most when we reach the end”. 

“If we reach the end” I interject. “If.”

She’s right though. If i join them, and can successfully make it to the end of the road it will tell me how to find her. All those visions of her for all those years… Her beautiful brown eyes, her soft curly hair. What I wouldn't give to see her smile for real, and not just in a vision. 

I sigh heavily as I bring my eyes to Agatha’s. I’m seriously considering it, and for a moment I almost say yes… but I know Agatha’s reputation. Even though at one point I would have liked us to be friends, I know I can't trust her. Going on the Road with her would be certain death, and then i’d never find her.

“Agatha…” I start. “I can’t. I just can’t. Now if that's all, get out of my house. I’m tired.” 

“Ok, ok” she says, lifting her hands in mock surrender as she turns to leave. 

Unexpectedly, Teen makes his way towards me. “Here” he says as he places a card in my hand. “This is Agatha’s address. Be here tonight at 6:30 if you change your mind, and I hope you will” he says as smiles. 

“Teen!” Agatha barks from the doorway. “Come on! We don’t have all day” 

Teen runs after her, and as suddenly as they had woken me, they left, and I was there to sit with my own thoughts. 

At least my tea has cooled off enough to drink. 

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

@end0r4

[intoanotherworld23]

Not Free To Go

Summary: Sheriff Tyler Owens catches you breaking into his home, and he takes you back to the station to teach you a little lesson

Warnings: explicit content, mature themes, dominant Tyler, sheriff Tyler, submissive reader, fingering, spanking, overstimulation, use of authority, mention of crime, attempted burglary, implied sex

A/N: comments and reblogs are totally appreciated to show support for your writers! If you wish to be added to my Glen Powell tag list let me know so I can be sure to add you! Thanks everyone so much! XOXO

Hall of hunks

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Tag list for Glen Powell: @djs8891

"So you like breaking into peoples home huh?" The sheriff asked sternly as he bent you over the cold steel table. “Well you picked the wrong fucking house to break into.”

"I'm sorry." You whimpered pathetically as his foot pushed your legs further apart. In fact too far apart you could feel a slight burning in your muscles on your inner thighs.

"Oh now you're sorry." He chuckled devilishly at your poor excuse of an apology. You broke into the sheriffs home, and all you had to say or could say was just a plain and simple sorry. "I think you're just sorry you got caught.”

You weren't meant to get caught at all. It was just a dare that went too far, and you're the only one he was able to grab. Your stupid friends dared you to break into the Sheriff Tyler Owens house, and try to find something nice and expensive. Only thing is you didn't expect him to be at home waiting.

Then he had no time in driving you back to the station throwing you in a cell. There was something about the way he handled you, and looked at you that was dark. There was something much more than anger behind his eyes. You couldn't quite tell what it was though.

"Please I'm sorry I wasn't going to steal anything." Hoping that would make things better, but the sheriff just ignored you knowing that you were just lying.

"Were you by yourself or with friends?" Hands patting your legs squirming in his hold.

"Isn't a female supposed to check me?" You asked turning your neck to get a better look at him.

"Shut the fuck up." He raised his voice at you. "You lost that privilege when you decided to break into my home."

"You can't treat me like this." Speaking out again.

"Better watch that mouth sweetheart or it's gonna get you in big trouble." There was something in his tone as he said those words that had your thighs pressing together. It was the kind of trouble a woman like you was looking for.

"Or you'll do what?" You were really pushing him this time.

Tyler was fuming at this point, and all he had on his mind was teaching you a lesson. The way you talked back to him like a spoiled child. You were just asking for a punishment. There was only one way that he knew for sure would work.

"Now answer me." Feeling his hands now patting close to your area. "Who else was with you?"

"Nobody." You lied quickly not wanting to rat on your friends like that.

"I don't believe you." Tyler responded as he swatted at your inner thigh making you jump. The smack echoing around the room.

Most people would be terrified being in this position, but right now you were incredibly turned on by how dominant he was becoming. You couldn't help but feel you weren't the only one feeling this way.

"I'm telling the truth, sheriff there wasn't anybody else." Pleading with him to believe you. He still wasn't buying it.

"I'm gonna ask you one more time." His voice quieted as his thick hand pressed against your clothed core. "Was there anybody else?"

"What are you gonna do?" Whispering loud enough for him to hear fear and lust evident in your voice.

"Whatever I want with you." His hand smacking down where it laid your legs folding together.

The air had left your lungs, and it felt as if someone turned up the heat in this room several degrees. The only sound that could be heard was your heavy breathing. It felt like the room was closing in on you two, and there was no way to escape.

Quickly opening your legs back open for him. Feeling his hand back on you as he kept it there for a few seconds. He could feel how warm you were between your legs, and he was loving it. He was glad that you were feeling the same mood that he was.

“I bet you are just completely soaked down there.” He was stating more matter of factly than a question. It was the truth though if you were wearing any pants you would be dripping down your legs. “Bet you’ve got a creamy little cunt too.”

You could tell him you don't want this, and scream for help in hopes someone would come running in and stop all this. Instead you chose not to, and wanted more. You were hungry for his touch, and lust was all you could think about.

Tyler rubbing his hand up and down the pants you had on the fabric pressing into your clit. A tiny whimper slipping past your lips. Biting down on bottom lip hoping he didn't hear that. The air around you was becoming thicker making it harder for you to breathe.

"That feels good doesn't it sweetheart?" Tyler grinned knowing exactly what he was doing to you. Putting more pressure on your core just wishing he could feel how drenched you were for him. He wanted nothing more than to reach his hand down your pants, and collect your juices on his fingers.

"Just tell me what I want and I'll let you cum." Tyler whispered seductively in your ear pressing his now fully clothed erect cock into your backside.

Pushing unknowingly back against him to feel more as he kept rubbing his hand up and down more aggressively this time. Tyler saw what you were doing and chuckled to himself. He let you keep it up for a little bit before pulling away from you making you cry out.

"Ah ah ah." Pulling his hand away this time too not letting you get exactly what you wanted right away. "Not until you tell me what I need."

He already knew the truth that you didn't work alone, but he was the one in charge right now, and he needed to hear you say it. Right now he needed you to submit so he could also get what he wanted.

"Okay fine there was others." Blurting out finally telling him the truth just so desperate to feel anything at this point.

"Good girl." Patting your ass with praise making your cheeks heat up. "See that wasn't so hard now was it."

Before you could even respond the same hand that was rubbing on you was now sliding your pants off down to your ankles. Pushing past your panties feeling exactly how turned on he was making you. Tyler almost growled at how drenched you were so quickly.

"Fuck you are wet for me aren't you?" You could only respond with a moan unable to even speak as he touched you like a piece of artwork.

Able to easily slip his fingers inside of you pushing all the way to his knuckles. Your mouth hanging open as he pulled out and then pushed back in. Immediately starting a rhythm that had your body rocking against the table.

“Such a tight little cunt for a little thief.” Hissing more to himself than you as he watched your walls suck his fingers inside of you.

Pressing his whole body into you so that you were squeezed between the table and his body. Wanting nothing more than to rip yours and his pants off, and fuck you until tomorrow. He had patience though, and knew it would be worth it to hold out a little more.

"Is this what you wanted?" His tone condescending, and you felt ashamed for wanting this so easily.

"Yes yes yes." You babbled out already feeling the pressure building between your legs.

Tyler wanted a different response as his free hand smacked your ass harder this time. This time you could really feel the sting from the impact. He wanted you to know he was the one in charge, and the one with all the power right now.

"You wanna say that again sweetheart?"

"Yes sheriff." Responding back to him hoping that's what he wanted.

"That's a good girl for me." He praised again his fingers going faster this time as his palm smacked against your pelvis.

The suction noises echoing in both of your ears hearing exactly how drenched you were. Feeling your ears and cheeks burning a sudden embarrassment washing over you. Tyler was loving it though more than he ever thought he would.

Maneuvering his thumb so he could rub your clit pushing you over the edge. Crying out as his hand grabbed your mouth to keep you quiet. Hushing in your ear, but never once stopping or slowing down his movements.

"Can't have anyone know what I'm doing to you in here." Whispering in your ear as he nibbled on it. "Can you imagine what they would say if they caught you fucking the sheriff?"

That's the last thing you wanted for everyone in this town to hear about this. To know how easily you folded for him, and you broke into his house. Your reputation would be completely tarnished, and nobody would look at you the same.

Tyler knew he had the upper hand here. He knew you wouldn't say anything to anybody, cause they would probably take his word over yours. In fact Tyler might even keep you around longer to do this again.

"Dirty little thief spreading her legs to keep from going to jail." He kept going as if it was a shared secret between you two. "You'll do anything to keep from going to jail won't you?”

It came out more like a statement than a question because he already knew the answer to that one. He could tell you were the type of girl who would do anything to avoid jail time.

"Please." Begging him feeling so close to release already.

"Please what?" He teased again knowing what he wanted. Not wanting to let you get off so easily without having to work for it first.

"Please sheriff I wanna cum so badly." That was all he needed to hear for motivation. His hand gripping onto your hips as his fingers literally drove themselves into you pushing and pulling your body. Clenching around his fingers as your hands gripped the edge of the table.

Tyler’s fingers stayed still inside of you as they curved inside motioning in a come here action. Gasping loudly as you turned your head to bite into your arm at the motion. Tyler having you right where he wanted you.

Your entire body was on fire right now. Your legs were already trembling, and you didn't know how much longer you'd be able to last. Thank god for him holding you otherwise you'd have collapsed to the floor.

Tyler’s inner beast was banging against the cage wanting to be let out. All he wanted to do was devour you right against this table. He wanted you completely at his mercy, and to hear you beg for his cock.

Watching as your body wriggled under his hold, and how you couldn't control what your arms and legs were doing. It was like something was possessing you, and Tyler was the reason. Who would have ever thought getting caught breaking into the sheriffs office would leave to an amazing orgasm.

"Fuck yeah I want you to cum for me." Growling into your ear. "Want to feel that cunt cum around my fingers."

That was all you needed to hear as your entire body tightened. Legs shaking as your orgasm came over you violently. Mouth hanging wide open as whimpers and moans left your lips.

Tyler keeping you in place though against his body his cock really pressing into you. Imagining the whole time it was him inside of you instead of his fingers.

Your entire body felt defeated and weak. Not being able to lift your head or even move your arms. All that was just from him fingering you. Not sure if you were gonna be able to handle his cock now.

"Fuck I could tell you needed that." Tyler joked as he soothingly rubbed his hand up and down your back.

If you weren't in such a state of bliss you would have felt so ashamed for what you just did. Not being the type of girl who would spread her legs for just anybody. Let alone the sheriff of this town.

"Am I free to go now?" Asking timidly wondering if he would let you go.

"Oh no baby girl," hands gripping onto your hips harshly, "I'm not nearly done with you yet."

"But I told you what you wanted to know." Cranking your neck to look at his reddened face, and blown out eyes staring down at you.

"You still need to tell me your friend's names." That made your eyes go wide. "For that you get to cum around my cock."

[zushikiss]

Omg more skater BF scara I'm in love pleaaaaase I'm a desperate Lil lad

have this drabble since im feeling nice 🤭🤭

summary ; skater!scaramouche decides to try to teach you a little trick however it ends in you falling over and getting a wound, then a soft scara you rarely see appears

warnings ; mentions of wounds, nothing too descriptive, scara gets a lil touchy 🫣

pairings ; skater bf!scaramouche x gn!reader

notes ; this is inspired by this drabble! i wrote this at like 1 am so uh not proofread, I DON'T SKATE PLEASE KEEP THAT IN MIND I'M USING STUFF I HEARD FROM MY BF SO PLS SPARE ME 😭

Scaramouche sighs for the nth time as you fail the trick again, though he's not actually annoyed and is in fact enjoying your annoyed pout and the way you fall closer to him when you fail, his hands are on your waist to keep you steady as you attempt an ollie once more.

"Scara this is not working, i'm just not meant for skateboarding!"

"Let's take a break then, you must be tired from failing."

You know he's just playfully insulting you like always, however it doesn't fail to irk you, as he goes to his car to fetch his hoodie since you failed to remember to bring you own one (again), you attempt the trick on your own, maybe it was the way scaramouche's hands were gentle yet firm on your waist, or the way his face is absurdly close to yours while he assists you with the trick.

Whatever it is, you're convinced you can't do the trick because he's distracting you, i mean it's not your fault, you just can't help but let your eyes wander to his lips!

As you attempt to do an ollie, your ankle twists and you fall, you make a pretty loud sound considering it was late at night and no one else was at the skatepark, the parking area was pretty close so it wasn't a surprise when you see scaramouche jogging over to you.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, i'm fine, just you know! Fell again.."

"Idiot, I told you to be careful."

You only pout knowing he did tell you to not try the trick by yourself, he sighs as he pulls out a familiar white tin container out of his pocket, it was one you gifted him a few months ago, the container itself being made of metal and the front littered with stickers, inside were the pink hello kitty bandaids you got him.

You didn't actually think he'd use them, it was more or less a joke since your boyfriend mostly wore darker clothes.

He takes out a bandaid and puts it over the small wound on your knee, he blows over your palm, rubbing it lightly to try and soothe the redness, his eyebrows are slightly furrowed and you can't help but stare, the way his eyes are planted onto your palms as he massages them, he seems adorable in this focused state.

"Thank you, Scaramouche."

"..No problem, just don't be stupid again and wait for me next time."

[howtofightwrite]

Most traditional boxing instructors will tell you that if the opponent is taller than you, has longer arms than you, or is heavier than you, you're fucked and you need to stay extremely aware and work really hard to compensate for all the advantage he has over you.

In a recent forensic survey, it was determined that most traditional boxing instructors who get into real world altercations die when they're shot in the head.

This is the problem with a lot of these kinds of arguments. No one practices traditional boxing. At least, no one does so publicly. How do I know this? Because traditionally boxers fought in the nude. Yeah, we're not seeing that, are we? Now, maybe they meant bare knuckle boxing, but really no one does that either, these days. Boxing without safety equipment is not a particularly good idea, for fairly obvious reasons.

The only reason the word, “traditional,” is in the ask is to lend their statement unearned credibility. It's an attempt to make their statement sound more authoritative, without offering any evidence to support the statement.

Who said that?

“Traditional people did.”

Okay, but, 'traditionally,' people cleaned shit off their ass with a stick. So, maybe appealing to Hellenic sports isn't the best gauge of how a fight will play out.

Also, I know I just said it, but, who are these authoritative sports guys? Because they're not named. We're simply told, “most,” of them agree. Which starts to sound a lot like “four out of five dentists agree.” Who are these instructors? What do they teach? Why are the currently in prison for indecent exposure? And how much did you pay them to get their uninformed opinion? Salient questions which may need to be answered, if the original question wasn't invalid on its face.

Why do I say it's invalid?

Because boxing isn't fighting.

Boxing is a sport.

Boxing has rules.

Kick your opponent in the groin, or shin, and you're punished.

Step on their foot, push them, and watch them tumble to the ground before you start stomping on them, and you'll be punished.

Throwing your opponent will be punished.

And of course, as mentioned at the top, pulling out a gun and expanding your opponent's mental horizons is extremely frowned upon.

These are all things that can happen in a real fight.

These are all things that do not benefit from increased height or reach.

There is one genuinely accurate statement. In a fight, you do need to be very aware of what's going on around you. Everything else is the product of someone who's been punched in the head repeatedly until the CTEs got them thinking that boxing is analogous to a real fight in any way. (And, statistically, will probably end their career sitting in a jail cell over an aggravated assault charge, because their emotional self-control was completely destroyed by those same head injuries.)

The rules that boxers need to follow are designed to (somewhat) protect the participants. It reduces the dangers of a boxer being killed in the ring. In an observation that I would hope to be self-evident, those rules don't exist in actual combat.

It's also amusing, because the original Asker had to go so far as to single out an ill-defined, “traditional” boxing, because no other martial art they checked gave them the soundbite they wanted.

And, of course, women box. Historically, you could say, “traditionally,” there were even boxing matches between men and women. It wasn't until the 1880s that women were excluded from competitive boxing in the UK. (I'm not sure of the exact date when women were banned from boxing in the US, though that prohibition lasted for less than a century, before the modern return of women to the sport.)

So, either these “traditional instructors” don't know the history of their own sport... which doesn't sound particularly “traditional” to me, or they're full of shit.

My advice to everyone would be, maybe, don't take the advice of a sports coach about how he's secretly an absolute badass in all the delusional fantasies he's cooked up about how he'd like to inflict violence on others because they wouldn't date him.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.

[bonefall]

Honestly I kind of. Like. When a character has to grapple with the fact they still have some love for a person despite that person being a complete piece of shit that hurt them and other around them. Remembering the good moments they had despite the hatred they feel, not being able to replace them entirely by what they think they should feel.

Basically I wish Berryheart died a death deserving of the cunt she actually is, but I was soooo hoping Sunbeam would have character growth of going from "I loved her even if she was a bitch she was still my mom" to trying to paint over that love with righteous anger for what she did to her siblings and father, and not just "my mom was actually great she just had hate in her heart but she was a good mom :((("

(Ok no, I kind of also want Sparrowtail and Spireclaw to have worse consequences but this is not about them)

Anyway, that's what also disappointed me. What about you Bones? What's the Berryheart stew brewing like so far?

(note: it's hollowspring, not spireclaw, but i know what you meant)

Our stew is the same stock. I LOVE complicated parental relationships, imo, it's one of the most interesting types of connection to consider. But I don't think it's so interesting because it's "magical blood connection" the way the Erins seem to

In fact, I don't think it's really the genes you share that tie you, at all-- it's that a parental bond is irreplaceable. You're only a kid once and you WILL model your caretakers, so these people inevitably teach you how to approach life. Whether the person who takes on that role is a relative, a guardian, or a peer who never should have had that responsibility in the first place, that connection (or lack thereof) gave you that first impression of the world.

It's just a shame, at the end of the day. They had an incredible opportunity here to have Sunbeam unpack the fact her mother was toxic, experience firsthand what it feels like to be part of a supportive family in the Firekin, show Berryheart doing the selfish and violent thing over and over... and STILL have Sunbeam struggling with the fact she loves her.

She can try and quash it with righteous fury. Play back the memories in her mind and understand that many of those "jokes," those "good times," were thinly veiled cruelty. See her mother for the fearful, angry person she truly was... and still not be able to change the desperate pit of longing in her stomach.

(Sunbeam: "...It's like that show, BeckerClan. You know, with Teddansonheart?")

I don't know if Berryheart's Redemption Death was because of the Erin bioparent worship, OR because they didn't want to have Sunbeam contradict Nightheart's feelings about his own mom, OR just their unhinged amount of sympathy towards bigoted characters... but, we had three fascinating setups here, and each one ended in the worst possible way.

I think that makes it PRETTY clear what my intentions are there. There is no chance in hell I'm keeping Berryheart's Tom Moment.

I flatly refuse to end the arc of a character whose most noteworthy action was attempting to hatecrime her in-laws with "awww she loved her daughter." Get OUT. I'm making her WORSE.

[veilantares]

Blue Ember

 *hair toss* I guess even robots can be a little bit devilish

A bit more organic than I'd prefer for something for march of robots, but I'm happy with the design nonetheless :>. This one's meant to be an oni rather than a demon but I guess there's enough overlap that the theme kinda gets across.

If we're talking lore for my setting, the regular robots are meant to be characters, but the cabal of Over Gods are meant to have speechless "demon" servants that I've tentatively called Machine Daemons. I often try to think about ways to differentiate these two groups beyond the fact that daemons don't talk (or vibrate their skin to produce words etc). Sometimes I picture daemons as more savage and jaggedly shaped, other times I think they should have horns or halos because they're servants of Divinity ... though nothing has stuck so far.

One thing that has been somewhat stable though is that the more powerful the form they perma-transform into is the more likely the individual is to be overtaken by one of the Over Gods - those Over Gods are like giant supercomputers with their own pocket dimensions, so they exert strong influence wherever they can.

A lot of cyborgs carry a little bit of influence with them because the connection to the Over Gods lets them perform useful skills, magics and feats. This way they can teach each other abilities even when they respectively have extremely different body formats.

Most of the illustrations I post are oneshots, so maybe these and the accompanying writings are all my practice attempts to get to a place where I know exactly what the things in my setting should look / be like. Part of the fun comes from the exploration and not knowing where I'll take these.

[gor3-hound]

sneaking out of heaven

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

part one, part two

cw: 18+ content, religious guilt, sexually repressed reader, allusions to abusive parents

a/n: i'm soooo nervous about this one lmao... will be smut eventually, but part of is kinda just... setting things up, yay!! not really sure how to tag this part either, so sorry if i missed anything :// title from the waterparks song of the same name <3

word count: 1.3k words

Growing up in the church offered you the only sliver of normalcy in your childhood. Your father, the pastor, was a strict man. He'd always made his expectations of you clear, and you were not one to go against his teachings. After all, his words were the extension of the words of God, as he had made abundantly clear.

You'd never been to a public school, and living in such a small town meant you were not subjected to things that most young girls were. Your father favoured it. This way, he could ensure his daughter stayed free of temptation. That she would be safe under his watchful eye, and never stray from the teachings of God.

Still, in the Church, you felt at home. In God's eyes, all men were created equal. You felt like you had some semblance of free will, less trapped under your father's thumb. As long as you devoted your life to God, you would be safe. He would provide for you, and you'd be able to leave this town.

This did not mean you did not miss the things that most teenagers got to experience. Fiddling around with the computer your dad allowed you for home-schooling purposes and finding incognito mode was something that instantly fed into your curiosity. Your dad couldn't monitor what you were doing, and it made you feel more comfortable to explore.

You never ventured too far, of course. It was as though you felt God Himself would strike you down if you looked at something you shouldn't. No, all you did was watch teen dramas with your volume muted late at night when you knew your father was asleep. You read the subtitles as you watched, fascinated by the idea of partying and going out. Having fun. Being free.

You couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to speak with someone your own age. This town was filled with old folks, and those who had kids all seemed to decide to have them a good ten or so years before or after you were born, so you were left being the only teenager there.

As you got older, the need to spread your wings and leave the nest only grew. Your father got stricter, roped you into more church duties. Anything to keep your curious mind wandering too much.

That was until the Kennedys moved into town.

Along with them came a boy, only a few years older than you. You could feel the tension in your father's body as you stood next to him while greeting them after they attended their first Sunday Mass there.

Their son, Leon, stood behind them looking incredibly uninterested. It was as if your father could sense what the boy would do to your mind, how he'd plague your thoughts late and night when you were all alone. You shook his hand that day, and that contact alone was enough to cause your downfall.

As you lay in bed that night, you felt the devil claw his way into the corner of your mind. He made his home there, filling you with thoughts that left you weak to temptation. As wetness pooled in the gusset of your panties remembering how Leon's hand felt in yours, you sobbed.

You prayed for God's forgiveness when the thoughts subsided. Apologised profusely for even thinking about touching yourself. The next morning, your shower took twice as long. You pretended it was the heat of the summer, but you knew it was your attempt at washing the dirty thoughts from your mind.

Every Sunday, Leon was begrudgingly dragged to church by his parents. And every Sunday, you fall further and further into sin. Until one day, you can't find Leon as you gaze into the pews.

It bothers you more than it should. You should be relieved. If he had convinced his parents to allow him to avoid church, you'd be rid of your temptation. God had heard your prayers, and he had offered you a solution.

You were not so lucky.

As you leave the church, Leon is propped outside against one of the walls. He's smoking, his lips the picture of sin as they wrap around the cigarette while he takes a drag.

His gaze flicks to you, and he tosses it to the floor, stopping it out with the toe of his boot. He grabs your arm, dragging you to the side of your church despite your protests.

“I've seen you watching me.” He says bluntly, but your brain can only focus on the sound of his voice and the way his hand feels as it lingers on your arm. You blink a few times, taking longer than usual to register his words.

“I-I haven't…”

“You have been, though.” He says harshly, brows furrowing like he's ready for a fight. “Think you're better than me? I can feel you judging me, y'know. I didn't want to come to this shitty town. I know I'm not like you.”

Your expression twists into one of confusion. Judging him? If anything, you were the one that deserved to be judged. You shake your head quickly, your heart beating so hard it felt like it would come out of your chest.

“I wasn't… I was just… just curious, that's all.”

He narrows his eyes like he's trying to see if you're lying. After a moment of studying you, he seems pleased enough with your answer and releases your arm.

“Cool. Your dad just really laid it on to my parents. They won't get off my back. Thought he sent you to keep an eye on me or something.” He says with a shrug, his gaze trailing over you.

“I'm not my father.” The words come out more sharp than you intended, and you're instantly scolding yourself mentally for speaking in that way. You take in a deep breath, looking down at the floor before meeting his gaze once more.

“I was wondering if we could be friends?” You ask softly, your voice shaking with slight nerves. Your father would probably crucify you if he knew you were alone with a boy, and here you were trying to bargain more time with him.

“It's just… well, I've never been able to hang around someone my age before, and-”

“Never?” He interrupts, brows furrowing as he looks at you. A small frown tugs at his lips, and you want nothing more than to kiss it away.

You shake your head softly, embarrassment burning in your chest.

“Shit. Does your old man keep you locked up in the church basement or something?” He asks with a laugh that only grows louder when he sees how affronted you are by him cursing.

He's joking, but it's not so far from the truth. You've been tethered to this town since the day you were born, kept on a leash so tight you could feel your airwaves being restricted more and more with every tug made by your father.

“It's just… I've never left this town.” You say quietly, and just like that, Leon's expression softens.

“You don't seem so happy about that.” He replies. The look on your face confirms his suspicions, but you don't say anything in response.

“Hey, well… I'll tell you everything you want to know.” He says with a smile that makes you weak in the knees.

If God created everyone in His image, he must have put a little extra of Himself in Leon Kennedy. You're not entirely convinced you're not in the presence of an angel. Or perhaps a demon sent by the devil to lure you into a life of sin.

You brush the thoughts away quickly. Leon was a human, plain and simple. It didn't matter what he looked like. All men were created equal, you remind yourself. There was nothing wrong with talking to him.

“So we're friends?” You ask hopefully, extending a hand in hopes of making contact with his calloused palms once more.

“Yeah. Friends.”