#and goin VERY sideways with it
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zrllosyn-art · 1 year ago
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They haven't showed us what Moran looks like so.
Y'know.
Yeah.
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readwritealldayallnight · 10 days ago
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“Believe the briefing’s down that way, LT.” Soap says, walking alongside the Lieutenant as they make their way to meet the rest of the task force, when he notices the older man starts turning down the wrong hallway.
“Small detour.” Ghost replies in his deep Manchester accent, continuing on his way, uncaring whether the Sergeant follows him or not.
“Where we goin’?” The Scot turns to quickly follow him, curiosity piqued, knowing Ghost is nearly always religiously early to briefings. He has however noticed him appearing nearer to the start time recently now that he thinks about it, something that wouldn’t mean anything should it have been anyone else, but with Ghost, these minuscule changes never came without reason.
“Jus’ have to scratch an itch.” Ghost utters, barely glancing sideways to see the bewildered expression on Soap’s face.
It’s not long before Soap recognizes that they’re on their way to passing by the med bay, confusion worsening when he notices that the Lieutenant keeps fidgeting with something in his pocket. Something that’s making a - crinkling noise? Just as they reach the doors, he watches him pull something out- almost doing a double take at the sight.
“What the fuck are ye doin’ with a bunch o’ lollies?” The Scot asks, befuddled.
“Jus’ shut up and watch, Johnny.” Ghost quickly murmurs, pushing through the doors and walking in a confidently past the nurses station without a care, as though he does this every day. Maybe he does-
Soap tentatively follows behind him at a slower pace, unsure of what he’s walking towards exactly, but utterly intrigued nonetheless. As he turns around a corner, he sees Ghost has just walked up to you, one of the bonnie medics he’s seen around.
“Morning.” You smile softly at him, warmth apparent in your gaze towards the tall man. “Was wondering if you were coming or not.”
“Pick a colour.” The Lieutenant practically grunts at you, holding up a handful of colourful lollipops towards you in his large gloved hand, ignoring your teasing.
“Think I’ll do red. Matches my nails.” You say, leaning towards him to reach a hand out and pluck said lolly from his grasp. Both men watch as you remove the wrapper, pink tongue peeking out from your mouth to wet your plush lower lip. Soap feels the wires in his brain click as well as his pants suddenly tighten when he sees how you wrap your lips around the sucker, closing your eyes and letting out a small, satisfied hum as you taste the candy and pull it out with a ‘plop’.
“Thank you, Ghost.” You blink up at him sweetly, sticking your tongue out to lick at the lollipop this time before sealing it back in the wetness of your mouth, eyes locked with the man before you the whole time.
The first time you met the Lieutenant was while treating him in this very med bay. Already enamoured with you to begin with, the deal had been sealed when you had pulled out a few lollies from your coats pocket, offering them to him. He had come back to see you the next day, his own stash of candy in hand, saying something about how it was only fair that the doctors got sweets every once in a while as well. ‘Every once in a while’ turned out to be every single morning you worked, truly nothing more than an excuse to see you.
And if you looked up at him so sweetly as you licked at the treat, his blood never not rushing down south in the process, well then that was just an added bonus wasn’t it?
Readjusting his tactical pants and licking his own lips, Johnny had never been so grateful to Ghost before.
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groovyangelkisses · 4 months ago
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hi my sweet baby suse :') love you sm n'just wanna know your thoughts when it comes to sitting on jax's lap <3 would he pet your hair? call you sweet little pet names? just wonderin' <3
anything for you clo, my pretty girl ! 🫶🏻
this became super long-winded, i just think he's neat :')
cw: jealousy, slight! innocence kink, potential 'opie yearning for reader' moment (who's shocked?) slightly nsfw
personally, i think jax is constantly pulling his girl into his lap. whether it's because tig is getting a little too friendly, or you've been talking (gazing) at opie for a tiny bit longer than he'd like, it's like you make a movement & you're in his lap. he's very "hey, where you goin' sweetheart, hm?" all teasing and smug and smiley, pulling you by the wrist to sit on him.
while jax loves having you in his lap to see you get all blushy and shy "c'mon darlin' they all know you love sittin' on me" (never letting the opportunity for innuendo pass him by,) he also loves the sense of pride that he gets from having a pretty, sweet thing like you perched in his lap. while jax is all leather and dirty t-shirts and baggy jeans, you're sweet pastels and soft fabrics— the warmth that jax is slowly starting to feel in his heart again.
and he'll take any form of lap sitting, by the way. if you're sitting directly on him, after you deliver some comment about jax bein the "comfiest, cleanest chair here!" he'll laugh, and wrap his big arms around your tummy, his face in your hair, whispering dirty jokes and funny comments about juice and chibs in your ear.
and if you're sitting sideways? legs spread across his lap and dangling over his thighs? his hands never leave them. one hand protectively holds your ankle, fingers lightly fiddling with the cold "J" anklet he bought just for you. his other hand slides up and down your leg, pausing to lay his palm flat on your knee, or to slide his extended hand up the sides of your thigh. and jax knows nooo personal space with you, by the way. so you two are face to face as he talks, his strong nose brushing against yours, and when he leans over to tell you a secret, his beard brushes against your cheek. eventually, his hand starts to slide up the center of your thighs, and his lips get a little too close to the sweetest spot on your neck, and he notices opie looking at the smooth skin of your face too long, and suddenly he can't help himself. nights like those usually end with you happily skipping behind jax as he leads you to his clubhouse room, trying to supress a smile at your obvious affection and excitement for him.
that being said, jax is a veerrrryy jealous person, so whenever he senses a prospect gettin' a little too close for his liking, he'll give you the look and you'll know where to go. of course, jax never tells you exactly why he'll suddenly stop your conversation with happy and ask you to come (essentially) straddle him in the clubhouse— he never wants you to know the true, horribly corrupt fantasies of the other male bikers.
so he'll take you in his lap, hooking your arms over his shoulders and pulling you together; chest to chest, him pressing against your panties in a comforting way. jax will pull the hem of your dress down and hold it still (he saw them trying to take a peek, and if he's being honest it took everything in him not to flip the pool table and start screaming) and start the sweetest little whispers in your bejeweled ear "my sweet girl, you know how pretty you are, hm? you know everybody here wants you? but they can't have you right? can they?"
and like clockwork, this same song and dance you get into everytime there's a meeting, you nod happily. and jax'll smile, a nice, wide, shit-eating grin aimed just as much at you as it is at the other samcro members looking onward; always yearning for a girl like you— loving, loyal, only having eyes for the blondie they all yearn to be.
his hand will move to your hair, softly running his fingers through it, soft applogies leaving his lips as your hair gets tangled in his rings, and he'll always kiss the corners of your lips to make up for it. he'll press your head to his chest, a big, protective hand sprawling across the back of your hair, holdin' you to him "just rest your eyes a little darlin', i gotta talk to the guys abit, kay?"
oh and he will. his hands running up and down your back and hair, in lulls of the conversation he'll kiss your cheek and ask quietly "still with me, babe?" and wait for your comfortable purr of "mmhmm" and continue on with the conversation. and he knows no one will ever say anything, they wouldn't dare. you're his little "doe in the headlights" and beyond jax's admittance, he needs to feel you in his hands just to get through the fear that he battles with everyday— the fear of disappointing the club, trampling his father's legacy, losing you. the thought makes him tighten his grip on you, hugging you like a child hugs their teddy bear, and the pressure, the sheer weight of his love is so fulfilling, you'll happily flirt with juice if it means it'll always end with jax holding you like this.
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hippiegoth97 · 3 months ago
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Roam Pt.1: Eddie Munson x Reader
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Collage by me :)
Master List
Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight
@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafescurtainbangz @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer
@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx
@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @usergeta @cometzombie
@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery
@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive
@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever
@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny
@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust
@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore
@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n
Description: The year is 1991, and your husband Eddie and his band Corroded Coffin is on an international tour for their first major album. You're traveling with the band in their private jet. On a flight between tour stops, Eddie's fear of flying leads to some interesting events...
Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: smut, rockstar!eddie munson, female reader, drug use, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, mentions of fear/anxiety about flying
Word Count: 3.7k
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divider by @strangergraphics
Roam Pt. 1
Good Evening, I'm Kurt Loder for MTV News, bringing you the latest in music entertainment. Tonight, breakout metal band Corroded Coffin are in the midst of a headlining world tour for their smash hit album, Hellfire Rising. So far, they've completed their North and South American legs of the tour and are head-banging their way through Europe. The band caught their big break in 1989, signing with Megaforce Records to produce their debut album. Given their meager beginnings in the town of Hawkins, Indiana, the band has remained humble as they reap the benefits of success. Here we have a clip of their notorious front-man Eddie Munson, describing how the band has taken to their newfound fame.
Interviewer: How are you and the band handling being one of the biggest metal bands right now?
Munson: Ya know, nothing really feels all that different than when we were a local band of nobodies. We just like makin' the music and being a voice for the freaks. And I've got my lovely wife Y/N to thank for helpin' me stay grounded, she knows how to bust my balls just enough to keep me in line. [Laughs]
Interviewer: Sounds like you're a very lucky man, Mr. Munson.
Munson: Oh, please. Call me Eddie, I'm a Rockstar, not a stock broker. [Laughs again] But yeah, I truly am. She's the greatest woman in the world, we wouldn't be here without her encouragement and support. Aw, look man, I gotta get goin'. Goodbye, England and next stop, Germany! [Sticks out tongue while making rocker devil horns]
Well, he certainly is a lively character. Be sure to look out for their upcoming sophomore album, Freaks Only, releasing next spring. I'm Kurt Loder, and this has been MTV News. Coming up next, a solid hour block of your favorite music videos of the summer. Good night.
You click off the TV, tossing the remote beside you on the sofa. "You look so sexy on TV, baby." You say to Eddie, sitting sideways on his lap as you and the band watched the special newscast together on their private jet.
"Oh, really? Better than the real thing, dollface?" Eddie asks teasingly, his hands resting on your hip and thigh.
"Mmm, never." You reply in a sultry tone, leaning in for a kiss. He happily meets you halfway, the hand on your hip migrating to your ass. He squeezes the flesh roughly, making you moan.
"God, you guys need to get a room." Gareth says, rolling his eyes in his chair. The other members mumble their agreement.
"Alright, we'll turn down the heat for your sake, hm?" You break away, leaving Eddie's lap to snort a line of coke from the coffee table in front of you. You inhale it, sniffing harshly. You lazily slump back against the couch, taking Eddie's hand in yours.
"You know, you could've at least mentioned us, Eddie. We are the actual band, after all. All you talked about was Y/N." Jeff pipes up, crossing his arms in frustration.
"Guys, you know how much I value you as equal members of the band. And it's MTV, dude. They catch you off guard and take a small soundbite, you know? Besides, we've all been equally featured in magazine interviews and sit-down talk shows. You guys are my friends, and my brothers. You mean the world to me, we've been playing together since we were kids." Eddie replies, trying to calm the brewing storm.
"You guys are just jealous that the media favors the front-man. It's not Eddie's fault. You think I pitch a fit every time some female fans get a little too bold with him? No, because I know I'm what's important to him, not some slutty groupies. Just like how you all matter more than a fuckin' MTV ambush." You don't mean to overstep, but you wish the guys would chill out a little.
"When we want your opinion, Yoko, we'll ask for it." Alex retorts. You just scoff.
"Oh, real original, man. I'm the wife, so I'm ruining the band. Jesus, guys. You realize you're like family to me, right? Like Eddie said, brothers. I'm just trying to explain why things seem one-sided. You're a band, a team. You think Metallica bickers the way you do? I don't think they'd be half as successful as they are if they did." It may be the coke talking, but you feel like a valid voice of reason for the group, always settling their little squabbles. Despite being grown adults, they still act like little boys at times.
"That's enough, out of all of you. Please, let's not ruin the buzz we have going from how kickass tonight's show was, hm? We're gonna take off soon, so get settled in. Come on, Y/N." Eddie stands, calling the bitchfest to a close and dragging you to the private bedroom at the back of the jet. "Night, guys." He says with a sigh, shaking his head.
"Night, dickhead." The boys call to him.
"Ha ha, very funny." He shouts back, opening the door to your room. You walk past him, sitting on the bed. Eddie closes the door, clicking the lock. The room is pretty eclectic, there's a bed with black silk sheets, a mini fridge, and a small bathroom. There's a large mirror on the ceiling, the walls are painted a deep red, and plush shag carpet covers the floor. Eddie had been very particular about how he wanted the bedroom on the Corroded Coffin jet to look. It's your safe place that you share together, away from the others. Before heading on tour, Eddie had struggled with a fear of flying. Going to LA to sign a record deal and work on the album took a toll on him. And for the first couple legs of the tour he needed to be sedated before each flight. But lately he's calmed down about it, though takeoff and landing still give him major anxiety.
"You alright, baby? How 'bout you come get buckled in with me?" You smirk at him, getting under the covers to fasten your seat belt that Eddie had built into the mattress.
"You could stand to butt out every once in a while, Y/N." He says in annoyance, climbing into bed next to you.
"I'm just trying-"
"Yeah, I know, you're just trying to help. I get that we've all known each other since we were in middle school and everything. But you're not in the band, okay? If we're having a problem, just let us handle it." You're about to protest, but he puts a hand up to stop you. "I appreciate your concern, babydoll. Really, you know I value your opinion over anyone else's, okay? But you don't need to be such a backseat driver." He takes your hand in his, kissing it gently. "I love you, angel. Can you just take a step back, for me?" He pleads with his big brown eyes, you can never say no when he uses them on you.
"Alright, Eddie. I'll let the band handle the band's problems. And I love you too, babe." You kiss his cheek, laying your head on his shoulder as the plane begins to take off. Eddie holds you close, tensing at every movement the jet makes as it ascends into the air. "It's okay, love. I'm right here, and we're buckled in safe." You look at him, trying your best to keep him relaxed.
"I know, I'm a lot better than I used to be. Just hate how shaky getting in and out of the damn air is." He always gets a little pissy when he's scared, but you've always found it endearing. "Maybe if I had a distraction, I might be able to ignore how awful this is?" You're unsure what he's referring to.
"And what did you have in mind, baby?" You ask coyly, hoping he means what you think he does.
"Well...we could, you know..." He gulps, unable to form full thoughts as his fears of falling from the sky take hold. You decide to take charge, placing your hand under the covers to ghost over his cock. He moans, eyes boring into yours.
"Is this what you were thinking of, sweetheart?" You play innocent, teasing him. He just nods, still stiffened up with stress. "Okay, baby. I'll take care of you. Can you lay down for me?" He does as you ask, occasionally trembling like a leaf. "It's okay, I'm gonna make it all better." You grip his length through his tight jeans, causing him to groan. You palm him through the material, winding him up. He gazes at you, panting in anticipation.
"More, please." He manages to say, almost whining. You heed his request, unbuckling his belt and unzipping the fly of his pants. He kicks off his sneakers, helping you pull his jeans down. Eddie pulls his muscle tee off as well, revealing his chest to you. He's only in his boxers now, and your hand grips him again through the thin fabric.
You take a moment to gaze over his form, comparing how he looks now to your high school days. He still has the long hair, and his clothes have stayed the same for the most part. But he's gotten a few more tattoos in recent years, one of which is your initials on his V-line. You have his tatted on your hip, so you always remember that you belong to each other. He also wears eyeliner now, which is very sexy, and has his ears and nose pierced. He convinced you to let him grow a goatee and mustache once, but it didn't really suit him so he thankfully shaved them off. It's crazy to look back on the years gone by, you never thought you'd see Eddie's wildest dreams come true. But you've been by his side from the beginning, and you intend to stay here until the very end. He and the guys worked so hard to get here, you couldn't be more proud. And now you've got him moaning in your grasp, in your bed, in your special room, on your private jet. The mere concept of that blows your goddamn mind every time. "I'm the luckiest woman in the world, you know that?" You say, looking deep into his eyes.
"Is that so? I suppose that makes me an even luckier man then." Eddie breathes heavily, begging with his eyes for you to remove his final layer and touch him fully. You appease him, leaving him naked inside his seat belt. His cock stands at attention, the head swollen and leaking precum. You lean over it, letting a drip of spit slowly fall from your lips onto it. Eddie stares at you, enraptured by every move you make. You spread the saliva around his head, rubbing it down his length. "Fuck, Y/N." He moans, his hand squeezing your thigh.
The pilot suddenly speaks through the intercom. "Evening, everyone. Just letting you know we've reached a comfortable cruising altitude, and the skies look nice and clear for our journey tonight. You're all set to move freely in the jet." The speaker clicks as he concludes his announcement.
"Perfect timing." Eddie says, quickly unbuckling your safety belts before pouncing on you. He smashes his lips on yours, hungrily sliding his tongue in your mouth. You moan into the kiss, gripping the sides of his face. He gropes your tits over your shirt, squeezing roughly as he lays over you. His mouth releases yours, migrating down your cheek, your jaw, your neck.
"Someone's needy." You quip, running your fingers through Eddie's hair. You drag your nails around his scalp, and he groans against your throat. He bites down on your flesh, sucking it into a deep purple hickey. You love it when he marks you, letting everyone know that you’re his. "Oh, Eddie." You moan, arousal spreading in your panties.
"I fuckin' love you so much." He says breathily, cupping your cheek as he gazes down at you.
"I love you too, my sexy Rockstar." You smirk, boldly gripping his cock in your hand again.
"Shit, Y/N." He groans at your touch, desperate to be inside you. "We gotta get you out of these clothes." He pulls at the hem of your shirt, and you sit up to lift it over your head. Eddie immediately reaches behind you to remove your bra, exposing your breasts to the cool air. You expect him to start massaging them in his hands, but he instead starts unbuttoning your leather pants. He pulls them down harshly, along with your lace panties. You lay down on the pillows, completely bare to him. He sits on his knees as his eyes scan over you, drinking in your beautiful form. "You're so gorgeous, love. And you're all mine."
"All yours, baby." You reply, giggling from his words making you blush. Even after all these years, you still feel so strongly for each other. He smirks at you, playfully grabbing your left foot. He kisses the bottom of it, and you try not to react to how it tickles. His lips move upwards, meeting every inch of skin he can. He crawls slowly towards you as he kisses your ankle, your knee, until he reaches your inner thigh. You sigh out at how soft his plush mouth is against your skin, your insides setting aflame. He's about to reach your dripping cunt, when he backs off to repeat his actions on your other leg.
Eddie's eyes never leave yours as he works, letting you know how much he worships you as his true love. He creeps up your other leg, reaching your thigh again. He glances at your glistening pussy, his smile growing wider. "You're so wet for me, angel. You want me to taste you?" His breath fans over you, whispering across your clit. He massages your thighs with his hands, tentatively waiting for your answer.
"Yes, please. Show me how much you love me, darling." He doesn't waste a single second before diving between your legs. His tongue licks a long, deliberate stripe from your entrance to your bundle of nerves. "Oh, God." Your hands ball up the sheets beneath you, pleasure already beginning to take hold. Eddie's a master at eating out, always knowing exactly how to please you. His tongue is possibly as well-trained a muscle as his musician fingers, he doesn't stick it out at all opportunities for nothing.
"Mmm, you taste so good, sweetheart." He says, quickly resuming his work on you. He licks you relentlessly, flicking his tongue against your clit and inserting himself into your soaked hole. You moan his name repeatedly, feeling your orgasm building like a knot in your belly. His fingers replace his tongue inside you, curling to hit your g-spot expertly. He pumps his digits in and out, sucking harshly on your clit. He wants to feel you cum around him, to scream his name as pleasure takes you over.
"Fuck, Eddie. Don't stop, right there! Just like that, make me cum." You cry out, tangling your fingers in his hair to hold his face against your core. He hums against you when you tug on him, the vibrations sending you further toward the edge. He maintains his pace, wet noises harmonizing with your moans. Waves of pleasure roll over you, signaling your oncoming release. You gaze up at the ceiling, watching your reflection in the mirror. Your skin is glistening with sweat, your mouth agape as curses and cries of passion tumble from your lips. It's intoxicating to watch yourself lose control, seeing Eddie's mop of curls situated between your legs. You look at the flexing muscles in his back and shoulders, and admire his perfect ass.
Eddie hums against you again, pumping his fingers faster into your pussy. You scream his name as your orgasm rips through you, your thighs clamping around his head. Fireworks explode inside your stomach, showering sparks throughout your body. He drinks up your juices, extending your high. Stars blur your vision, and your hips buck against Eddie's face. He's struggling to breathe, but he lets you ride out your orgasm. The bliss dissipates, your body going limp and releasing your husband from your grasp. "Jesus, Y/N. That was so fuckin' hot. Almost suffocated me, but I'd happily die buried between your thighs." He pants, marveling at your fucked out expression.
"I'll make a note to sit on your face on your deathbed then." You joke, making the both of you laugh lightly. Eddie lays over you again, kissing your lips repeatedly. His cock slides against your slick folds, making the two of you moan into each other's mouths as your lips smack together. He continues to rub himself against you, teasing and riling you up again. Your blood is boiling inside you, you can't wait any longer for Eddie to fuck you. "Baby, please don't tease." You whine between kisses, urging him to give you what you want. He rolls you both over so you're on top, breaking his lips away from yours.
"Go ahead and ride me, darling." He grips your hips roughly, his rings digging into your flesh. You sit upright, taking Eddie's dick in your hand. You pump him a few times, lifting yourself on your knees. He moans at your touch, boring his eyes into yours. "Now who's being a tease?" He asks breathily, and you smirk before sinking onto his length. He fills you up perfectly, brushing against your g spot. The air is knocked out of your lungs, and you take a moment to adjust to his size.
Once you're ready, you slowly lift yourself up and fall back down onto Eddie's cock. "Fuck." You mutter, relishing the sensation. You repeat this action a few times, drawing lewd moans from the both of you. You place your hands on his chest, beginning to bounce up and down against him. His hands guide you to hit your sweet spot every single time, your head falling backwards in ecstasy.
"God, you're so beautiful like this, angel. And so fuckin' wet and tight for me." He meets your bounces with the occasional thrust upwards, making your breath catch in your throat. Your velvet walls hug his dick perfectly, it's like you're made just for him. He'll never get enough of you, he always wants to be balls deep inside you and making you scream.
You roll your hips, setting a new angle for yourself that manages to feel even better. A second orgasm is simmering inside you, building and building as you keep up your rhythm. You can't stop moaning, calling Eddie's name like he's a deity you're praying to. He's just as vocal as you, which you've always found extremely hot. He's not afraid to express himself with you, in bed or otherwise. This moment is so perfect, you never want it to end. "You feel so good inside me, Eds. Only you can make me feel this way." Your dirty confessions spur him on, he hammers up into you even more as you continue to ride him.
You're chasing each other's highs at this point, desperate to send yourselves over the edge. Your skin is slicked in sweat, making your bodies slippery. Your lustful noises blend together with the slapping of skin. When you least expect it, the plane hits some minor turbulence. Your stomachs drop as the jet dips in the sky, and you catch a bit of air before landing on Eddie's cock deeper and harder than you ever have before. You both shout obscenities at the sensation, half-wishing it would happen again. "You getting close, baby?" Eddie asks, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he lowers a hand between your legs to rub your clit with his thumb. You moan at the added stimulation, moving your hips even faster. You want to cum so badly, your bliss is threatening to boil over any second.
"Yes, love. So fucking close, make me cum." Your eyes meet his, burning with intense passion. The look on his face tells you he's just as close to the edge as you are, sweat drips down his cheek, and his eyebrows are knitted together. He rubs your clit harder, watching your eyes screw shut as you're overtaken by your orgasm. "Oh, Eddie!" You scream, legs shaking uncontrollably. Eddie moves his hand away, grabbing your hips again to pound upwards into you to reach his own finish line.
You keep moaning consistently as his thrusts prolong your pleasure, your mouth hangs slack to release the noises. You see stars once more, they swirl around in your vision as your arousal drips down Eddie's cock. You throw your head backwards again, tears streaming down your cheeks from overstimulation. He looks at the scene before him in the reflection of the mirror above you, watching himself fuck you relentlessly is what makes him lose control. "Fuck, Y/N." He chokes out, his warm load spilling into your spent cunt. His strokes slow down to a gradual halt, and you collapse onto his chest. You're almost gasping for air, your pussy clenching his length as your high subsides.
Eddie wraps his arms around you as you both try to steady your breaths. You lay on his chest, listening to his racing heart as his dick softens inside you. It's so comfortable and warm to lay with him like this, to be so close to another person is an amazing thing. You carefully lift yourself off of him, your mixed release dripping onto Eddie's stomach. You moan at the sight, quickly running to your bathroom to grab a damp washcloth to clean him off. Once he's no longer sticky, you put the cloth back in the bathroom and shut off the light before climbing back into bed. Eddie tugs the covers over the two of you, pulling you close to lay your head on his chest. "I love you so much, babe. You're the best husband a woman could ask for." You nuzzle his neck, playing with the small tuft of hair on his chest.
"And you're the world's greatest wife, angel. I love you to the ends of the universe and back." You lift your face up to give him a deep, warm kiss. He happily returns it, your hearts swelling with sheer love and adoration for one another. You pull away, failing to fight back a yawn. You lay back down, your eyes fluttering closed as you drift into a deep sleep.
To be continued…
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justagalwhowrites · 2 years ago
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Lavender - Ch. 1
Went a bit sideways yesterday with my wandering mind and started a TLOU fanfic. Here's chapter 1 of "Lavender," an age-gap grumpy/sunshine friends-to-lovers (and eventually friends-to-lovers-to-enemies-to-friends-to-lovers) fanfic that starts pre-outbreak.
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
Length: 8.6k
Warnings: Not much yet! Whole fic will be very NSFW so minors DNI. This chapter is very basic. Mild violence, mention of masturbation.
Synopsis: You're a college student in Austin, Texas, who gets a summer job nannying Sarah Miller. It's not long before her dad sees you as more than a babysitter - or more than a friend.
Austin, Texas, April, 2000
You couldn’t believe you were doing this. You closed your eyes, tilting your head up toward the Texas night sky, air surprisingly cool for April in Austin, trying to keep the tears that were building in your eyes from actually falling. Like that would make a damn difference. You took a deep breath and looked down at your phone. 
You only had a few numbers saved. You hadn’t made many friends in college, the only girlfriend you had was in the frat house behind you, hanging out with her boyfriend. She was out. Your grandmother was across the country, so she was obviously out. The handsy guy who’d brought you to this damn party was a big hell no. Which pretty much left…. Joel Miller. Your boss. You winced, thumb hovering over the call button for a moment before pressing it. 
“Kid?” He answered quickly. That somehow made it worse. But at least he didn’t sound half asleep. “What’s going on, you OK?” 
“Hey Joel,” you sniffled a bit. “Sorry to bug ya, I know it’s real late…” 
“Kid,” his tone changed, almost warning you. “I told you you could call if you needed somethin’, what’s goin’ on?” 
His accent got stronger when he got keyed up. You’d noticed that over the year you’d known him. 
“Could you…” Shit, you were really going to have to do this. You sniffed again. “Could you come get me?” The words all started coming out of you in a rush then, you couldn’t really stop them. “I’m so sorry, I know it’s late and I think I can walk it if you can’t but I went to this party with this guy and he’s not really what I thought he was and I just can’t stay here with him anymore and…” 
“Kid,” he cut you off. “I’m coming to get you right now, are you close to campus?” 
“Yeah,” you sniffed again, looking back at the frat house and reading him the house number. 
“I know where that’s at,” he said. His voice was calm, soothing. “I’ll be there in less than 10, you safe?” 
“Yeah,” you nodded even though he couldn’t see. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just need to get out of here…” 
“Stay put,” he said. “I’m comin’ to get you.” 
“Thanks, Joel.” 
You flipped your phone shut and put it in your purse before smoothing the back of your sundress down and sitting on the curb, hoping the plethora of cars on the street blocked you from easy view. Your feet - in platform sandals that you’d been stupid enough to paint your toenails for earlier that day - were in a puddle, but it was hard to care. 
You were just finishing up your junior year of college and this was only the fourth guy you’d gone out with so of course he had to be a massive jerk. It was just your luck. 
You’d expected a bit better when you moved to the Lone Star State to go to school. It had been a change of pace from your small town in upstate New York where you’d lived with your grandmother all your life. You wanted something bigger, to actually get out of that little town and see some of the world before you settled into whatever life had in store for you. And the south was supposed to be nice. That’s what everyone said, southern hospitality and all that. But it hadn’t been very nice. 
You’d tried to make friends with your roommate freshman year and you kind of had. She wasn’t mean or anything, you just had very little in common. She was an athlete so the demands on her time were many. She was studying music when you’d rather jump off a bridge than try to perform anything for anyone. She had a lot of friends there already - she was from Houston, so plenty of her high school classmates were there, too. You’d probably spent a little too much time trying to fit in with her. By the time it was apparent that you were fine as roommates but not friends, everyone else seemed to have friends, too. 
Which wasn’t the end of the world. You’d only had two close friends back home, anyway. You’d never been very social, preferring to be on your own and quiet instead of with people. Too much time with anyone else exhausted you, unless it was the RIGHT person. 
But there was a difference between alone and lonely and you found yourself lonely here a lot. The dating scene was, somehow, worse. The first guy you’d gone out with since coming to school hadn’t even made it past date number one, he was so self absorbed it was like you had been taken to dinner just so he had someone to talk at. Number two ended up asking for your roommate’s number when he walked you back to your dorm that night. Number three had made it as far as date number three but got a little ticked that - when his hand traveled up your shirt to your bra - you’d asked him to stop. He left you at a gas station and you’d had to call a cab to get back to your apartment. 
The guy tonight had been looking a bit better. Or so you thought. He’d pressed you against the wall in the hall outside your front door and kissed you at the end of your last date, his hips against yours, his tongue dipping into your mouth. You’d liked it, for a moment, until he pinned your wrist to the wall and tried to put his hand down your pants. He’d stopped and apologized, though, when you asked him to stop. That, you’d thought, was a good sign. That he was respectful, kind. So when he’d asked you to go to a party with him tonight, you’d said yes. 
But when you actually got there, he kept trying to get you to drink whatever concoction had been mixed directly in coolers in the middle of the room, pressing red plastic cups into your hand at every opportunity and getting more and more frustrated when you insisted on sticking with bottled water instead. 
Eventually, his hand had gone up the back of your dress as you threw a ball in beer pong, his fingers brushing against your lower lips before sliding up and groping your ass. You whiffed the shot, practically jumping away from him. 
“What the fuck, Jeremy?” You asked, tugging your dress down on instinct. 
“C’mon baby,” he’d said, all but stalking after you. “You gotta give me something…” 
“No, I don’t,” you glanced around you. There wasn’t much help to be had here. “I’m going home.” 
“Don’t be like that,” he said, reaching for you. You stepped back again. Then there was a change in his face, like a switch flipped. He was no longer the nice boy who’d, for your first date, asked to take you to the art house movie theater in town. He was a hulking man, one who had six inches and at least 100 pounds on you, who felt he could take what he wanted by right. “I just want to make sure you have a good time, let’s get you a drink…” 
His hand closed around your wrist and he started pulling you toward him. 
“I don’t want a drink,” you curled the hand in his grip into a fist and covered it with you other hand, yanking it free. “I’m going home. Don’t call me again.” 
You stalked out of the party, trying to keep your cheeks from burning. 
The 10 minute wait for Joel seemed like an eternity. You kept glancing to your watch, feeling like ages had gone by when it had only been a minute or two. Only eight minutes had passed when you heard your name being called from behind you. You winced, hoping Jeremy wouldn’t find you where you’d tucked yourself away to wait. 
No such luck. 
“Hey!” He prowled over to you, his lips curled into a snarl. “Who the fuck do you think you are, embarrassing me like that?” 
You stood up, instinctively backing into the truck behind you before you realized that you probably should have fucking moved somewhere else before you were cornered. 
“I wasn’t trying to embarrass you…” 
He grabbed your wrist again, firmer this time, his fingers digging into your flesh, pulling you sharply against his body. 
“Well, you did,” his breath smelled like liquor and cigarettes and his body was hard. You squirmed, trying to get away from him. “You really fucking embarrassed me…” 
“Hey!”
A car door slammed and your head whipped around. Joel was storming across the sidewalk toward you, wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt - he hadn’t even stopped to put on shoes. 
“This isn’t your business,” Jeremy snapped before turning his attention back to you. “Stay out of it.” 
“The hell it ain’t,” one of Joel’s hands went over your shoulder, pulling you back from the other man’s grip and putting you behind him. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave her alone.” 
Joel looked to you, his brown eyes wide as they looked you over. 
“You OK?” He asked. You nodded. “This the guy?” You nodded again. His jaw clenched but he nodded toward his truck. “C’mon Kid, let’s go.” 
“Nah man, I don’t know you,” Jeremy came around you, grabbing your wrist again and yanking on you. “You’re not just gonna take off with my date…” 
Joel punched him, hard, across the face before catching you around the waist so you stayed up while Jeremy fell to the ground, groaning and clutching his face. Joel set you down gently before standing over Jeremy. “Touch her again and I’ll kill you,” his voice was oddly calm. You just stood there, holding your sore wrist to your chest. You hadn’t realized when you’d started almost hyperventilating but you were almost gasping for breaths. Joel turned back to you. “You’re OK, Kid. You’re OK.” 
He put his arm around you, pulling you into his side and steering you to his truck. He helped you up into it, watching as you buckled yourself in before getting into the driver’s seat. 
“That asshole know where you live?” He ground his teeth a bit, flexing his hand he’d punched Jeremy with on the steering wheel. 
“Yeah, he picked me up,” you were still holding your wrist. “Is your hand OK?” 
Joel glanced over to you before looking down to his hand. 
“Been in worse fights than that,” he said. “How’s your wrist? Need to take you to the hospital?” 
“Oh God, please don’t,” you groaned. “It’s just going to be a little bruised…” 
“Should report it to the cops,” he muttered. “That fucking asshole…” 
“And, what, get you arrested for laying him out?” You asked, brows raised. “It’s fine, Joel, really…” 
“Well I’m not taking you to your place,” he growled. “Not safe, not with that… You can stay with us for a bit. You said you’re moving soon, anyway, right?” 
“I really don’t want to put you out…” You began but he cut you off. 
“You half live there in the summer anyway,” he said. “I’d rather know you were safe. ‘Sides, Sarah’s at a friend’s house tonight. You can sleep in her room, don’t even have to put anyone on a couch. When do you get into your new place?” 
“Three weeks,” you sighed. “It’s really not that big a deal, this kind of thing happens all the time…” 
“Don’t make it right,” he glanced over at you again before putting his eyes back on the road. “You can stay with us for a few weeks, we’ll go get some of your stuff tomorrow.” 
You watched him for a moment. There was blood on his knuckles, the streetlights outside catching on the shaggy curl of his hair, his eyes narrowed on the road in front of him. 
It was lucky that you’d ended up working for Joel Miller. You’d know that before, too. He’d put an ad in the paper a year before, looking for a nanny for his then 9-year-old daughter, Sarah, and you’d been looking for a way to not take out more student loans. A simple enough arrangement. 
You’d met for the first time at a coffee shop near campus. You showed up a few minutes early - you always did, being late made you anxious - and Joel showed up a few minutes late. You’d recognized him by the look of general discomfort on his face, a look that made you smile a little. He was clearly out of his element, interviewing nannies, looking around a coffee house filled with college girls so that he wouldn’t even know which one to approach. You saved him the trouble. “Mr. Miller?” You asked, brows raised. You’d worn a sundress that day, too. But you’d put on the only blazer you owned with it, trying to look somewhat professional. Not that you really knew how. “Hi, I’m here for the interview?” 
“Hi,” he looked relieved. “Sorry I’m late, got held up on a job… Can I get you a coffee or… somethin’? I’m gettin’ somethin’…” 
“Sure,” you smiled. “Thanks.” 
You stood awkwardly beside each other in line, Joel insisting you order first which made you feel bad when you got an iced lavender latte and he just got a black coffee. 
“Sorry, I’m such a sucker for lavender,” you smiled, somewhat sheepishly, over your cup. “There’s a lavender farm down the street from where I grew up, could always smell it on the air at the right time of year…” 
You were babbling. You set the cup down. 
“Sorry,” you smiled again. 
“No, no, you’re good,” he smiled a little too. “I’ve never done this before, so…” 
“Me either,” you said quickly. “I nannied for the kids of some friends of my grandma’s but they already knew me, so didn’t need an interview.” 
“So, you’ve got experience watching kids?” He asked, turning his paper cup absently in his fingers. 
“Oh yeah,” you nodded. “I love kids, I started babysitting when I was 13 and have nannied in the summer since I was 17 but I’m staying here this summer because of my lease, so I need something local.” 
“You’re not from here then?” He asked. 
“No,” you shook your head. “I’m from New York? Not like.. the city. The state. The boring part.” He laughed a little at that. You smiled. “I came here to go to school. I’m studying to be a teacher.” 
“A teacher?” He asked. You nodded. “You must like kids. What do you want to teach?” 
“High school biology?” You asked more than answered. “Really, I’d love to be a pediatrician but the loans… But teaching high school would be great. There were some teachers I really connected with in high school, the ones who believed in me and trusted that I could become something. That’s what I want to be for someone else, you know?” 
He nodded and took a sip of coffee. You tried to not watch his throat as he did. Mr. Miller was almost weirdly attractive - way hotter than any dads you’d worked for in the past. You didn’t want to blow this interview just because it felt like you could write a book of poetry about the man’s jaw alone. 
“Can you tell me about your daughter?” You asked after a moment. “I think you said she was nine?” 
He nodded again. 
“Yeah, Sarah,” he said. “She’s a good kid, smart as a fuckin’ whip.” He noticed that he cursed, his eyes going wide. “Shit… sorry, no…” 
“It’s fine,” you smiled. “I’m a big girl, I can handle some adult language.” 
He looked relieved. 
“Thanks,” he said. “Sarah’s… I don’t know what I did to deserve a kid like her but it had to be somethin’ in a past life because it sure as shit ain’t this one. She’s such a sweet kid, so smart - way smarter than me, not a clue where she got it from - funnier than hell. You’ll love her, everyone loves her. She’s easy to watch out for, part of why I’ve never had to do this before. We had neighbors who were happy to look after her for me during the summer but they moved to Dallas about a month ago.” 
“Could I meet her?” You asked. “I mean, assuming you’re interested in potentially hiring me, I’d like to meet her, get to know her a bit…” 
“Well,” Joel looked awkward again. “You’re… the only interview I got. I must not be offering enough, didn’t get any other takers…” 
“I’m not opposed to being a last resort,” you smiled. He laughed. “And I’m fine with the pay. It’s enough that I won’t need to take out another student loan.” 
“That’s good,” he sighed. “Because I’d love to offer more but…” 
“I get it,” you said. “Will I be meeting Sarah’s mom?” 
“No,” he replied. “She hasn’t been in the picture in years. Her loss, but still. It’d be nice to have a… female presence in her life.” 
“That’s hard,” you leaned in a bit closer to him. “I’m really sorry. If it helps, I know a bit about what that’s like. My dad left before I was born, my mom not too long after. I grew up with my grandma. She’s great, I love her more than anything and she’s done so much for me but… I dunno, I guess I was always wondering why I couldn’t be enough for them to want to stick around.” 
“Speaking from experience,” he replied. “It ain’t got shit to do with you, Kid.” 
It was the first time he’d called you that. Now it was practically all he called you, you couldn’t remember the last time he’d said your name. You kind of liked it. Your grandmother had been the only person close enough to you to have given you a pet name, it was nice to have a term of endearment from someone. Even if it was a bit infantilizing. 
You realized Joel must have been fucking flooring it to get to you as fast as he did. It took almost 15 minutes to get back to his place and the TV was still on when you stepped into the living room, a horror movie you didn’t recognize playing. 
“C’mere Kid,” he jerked his head toward the kitchen. “Should ice that wrist.” 
You followed obediently, still cradling your injured arm as he rifled around the freezer. He pulled out a bag of frozen corn and dropped it on the counter before squeezing it a few times to break it up. He wrapped it in a towel. “Hop up,” he patted the counter and you obliged. He held his hand out and you put your injured wrist in it. He turned it over gently in his hands, examining you. 
“You’re already bruising,” he growled. “Should’a fuckin’…” 
“You got me out of there,” you cut him off, voice gentle. “I don’t even want to know what might have happened if you hadn’t come to get me…” 
“Me either,” he muttered, gently pressing the frozen vegetable bag to your arm. You winced. “Sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” 
“Positive,” you replied. “Nothing’s broken. I broke my arm once when I was a kid, it was way worse than this. They’d just send me home with some Tylenol right now.” 
You looked at his hand. 
“You’re sure you’re OK?” You frowned. He glanced down. 
“Definitely,” he said, going to run his hand under the faucet. He glanced up at you. “You know how to throw a punch?” 
“I think so?” You replied. “How hard can it be?” 
He shut the faucet off and dried his hands before stepping in front of you.
“Let’s see,” he said. “Make a fist.” 
You obeyed, using your uninjured hand. He shook his head, taking hold of your fist. 
“Your thumb has to be on the outside of your fingers,” he said, gently opening your hand and freeing your thumb. He nudged your fingers closed again and brought your thumb over the top of them. You’d never noticed just how large his hands were until you saw them contrasted with yours. “Like that. You’ll break your thumb if you do it the way you had it. When you go to punch, bend your knees a bit. It’ll stabilize you. All your power is going to come from your lower body, start there and carry it up. Strike with your middle knuckle and then follow it through.” 
“Thumb outside, knees bent, start low, follow through,” you repeated, your hand still in his. You tried to ignore the electric current that ran over you where his skin touched yours.
“Right,” he said, releasing your fist. “So next time some asshole puts his hands on you, do that at his nose, OK Kid?” 
“Something tells me it won’t be as effective as when you do it,” you smiled, your eyes meeting his. 
“Maybe not,” he shrugged. “But it’ll still hurt and give you a chance to run. Which is what you do. And you can always call me. OK?” 
“OK.” 
He helped you down from the counter. 
“Don’t know about you,” he said. “But I’m a bit too keyed up to sleep quite yet. Want somethin’ to drink?” 
“Is it weird to ask for a beer?” You almost winced. 
“Not like you’re workin’,” he said, going for the fridge before turning back for you. “Wait, you turned 21 last fall, right?” 
“Yes, Joel,” you smiled, rolling your eyes a little. “I’m fully legal. Well, except to rent a car.” 
He laughed as he got two beers from the fridge, opening them with a bottle opener that was attached to the counter. He passed you one and you both went to the living room, the credits rolling on whatever horror movie he’d been watching. 
“Sorry I made you miss your movie,” you said, sitting on one end of the couch and taking a sip of beer. 
“It was shitty anyway,” he shrugged. 
The TV switched to a commercial break before teasing “When Harry Met Sally.” Joel went to change the channel but you stopped him. 
“What, don’t tell me you like that… romance crap,” he was almost teasing you. 
“Have you ever seen ‘When Harry Met Sally?’” You asked. He made a face. You rolled your eyes. “Joel. C’mon. It’s one of the best movies ever made.” 
“No,” he scoffed. 
“It is!” You insisted. “The dialogue? The pacing? The acting? Ugh, so good. It’s one of my favorites. Give it a try, pretend there’s a heart somewhere in there.” 
He was still looking at you, skeptical. You’d somehow closed the gap on the couch, your arm brushing against his. 
“I will lose all respect for you if you just refuse to even try it,” you challenged. 
“Oh because you’ve got so damn much of that,” he snorted. You elbowed him playfully. “Fine, Kid. We’ll watch your little romance movie. But only because you had a bad night and I’m not a total asshole.” 
“You’re not?” You clutched your chest in mock surprise. 
“Don’t tell anyone.” 
You kept glancing over at him as you drank your beer, your legs tucked up beside you as he leaned against the arm of the couch. He was actually paying attention, you’d give him that. 
“Well?” You asked during the second commercial break. 
“It’s… not bad,” he looked over to you. 
“You like it!” You twisted to face him. 
“No, I do not,” he fought to keep from smiling. “I just don’t… dislike it.” 
“Joel Miller: father, contractor, rom-com lover,” you smirked, taking a sip of beer. He just shook his head, a twitch in his jaw. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you tickets to opening night of the next Meg Ryan movie, it’s the least I can do.” 
You caught him stifling a laugh more than once and, about an hour into the movie, checked your injured wrist before taking the still half frozen corn back to the kitchen and coming back with two bottles of Shiner, passing one to you. 
The beer made you bold - and tired. Your head drifted onto his shoulder and he didn’t stop you, your blinks becoming longer and longer until your eyes stayed closed and you fell asleep against him. 
*** 
You’d been right about the movie. Joel shouldn’t be surprised. You had good taste in most things. The books and music you brought around, the food you invented on nights where he worked late and you made Sarah dinner. Your taste in men left something to be desired, though. 
Joel ground his teeth, glancing over at your sleeping frame, the almost empty beer bottle still in your fingers. He gently took it from you, setting it on the side table to not disturb you. You sighed happily and pressed yourself closer to his side. His eyes trailed down your body. You were wearing one of your damn sundresses again - seemed like that’s all you wore this time of year. He thought you were going to be the death of him the summer before, him coming home every night to see you in one of your damn sundresses or cut off shorts and a tank top, looking soft and sweet and beautiful as you made dinner or did a science experiment with Sarah. 
He’d never known a person as kind as you. That he was sure of. The first time he called you on a Saturday morning to ask if you could come watch Sarah on your day off - there was an emergency at a job site and he was desperate - and you made it sound like he was doing you a favor, not the other way around. 
“Of course!” You sounded actually excited. “Do you think I could take her to the zoo? There’s a cool program there on Saturdays, I was thinking of asking to take her sometime, anyway…” 
He’d tried to pay you for it but you waved him off. 
“I’m just hanging out with my best friend at the zoo, why should you pay me?” You looked at him like he was crazy. Sarah was glowing. 
You were everything bright and good and the fact that someone had put his hands on you… He ground his teeth again. He was surprised that you weren’t more upset. He’d have expected you to be crying, at the very least. It sounded like you had been when you called. But, by the time you got to his place, you were your usual self. Like somehow one asshole wasn’t going to ruin your outlook on the world. 
Joel hadn’t realized how strong the drive to protect you would be. He’d never needed to before. He’d told you pretty early on to call if you ever needed something. He’d even told you to call if you were drunk at a party and needed a safe ride - didn’t want you getting in a car with some idiot college kid who’d had a few too many behind the wheel. You’d rolled your eyes a bit but said thank you all the same. But he wasn’t expecting you to ever need to take him up on it. At least, not like this. 
He hadn’t realized that he’d run out of the house without shoes on - without even locking the damn door - until he was halfway back with you safely beside him. You’d sounded so hurt and so scared, he couldn’t get to you fast enough. He’d had to keep himself from beating the shit out of the man who’d been holding you. 
And now you were asleep on him. 
There was so much wrong with what he was thinking about you. There’d been so much wrong with what he thought about you since the day he met you. He called you Kid as much as a nickname as to remind himself that you were far too young for him, closer to Sarah’s age than his own. It didn’t matter that you were an adult, you were barely out of your teens when he met you. Men who preyed on young women disgusted him. He wasn’t about to become one just because he could spend all damn day just watching you exist. 
He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back on the couch. Was it fair to even have you work for him this summer if he felt this way? He was going to, regardless, he just wasn’t sure how shitty he should feel about it. Offering you his home as a place to stay for a few weeks wasn’t a smart move, though. He was already around you all the damn time when Sarah was out of school - and pretty regularly outside of that, too, you coming by a few times a month to keep an eye on her when he needed to take care of something on evenings or weekends. You even tutored her in math and science when she hit a rough patch back in February, you figuring out her stumbling blocks and reframing it so she could wrap her head around it. Sarah had been so excited when she got an A on her test, the first thing she wanted to do after telling Joel was call you. He’d heard your excited yell through the phone from a few feet away, Sarah beaming with pride. You, in his space, with your damn sundresses and your CDs and your books in fucking French were going to kill him. 
He tucked your head tighter to him, slipping an arm below your waist before maneuvering you into his arms. You sleepily mumbled something - totally incoherent - and he carried you to Sarah’s room, setting you gently on her unmade bed. He took off your shoes before tucking you in and paused. You’d painted your toenails red, the same shade as the cherries on your sundress. You’d painted your fucking nails for the asshole who’d put hands on you. He clenched his jaw for a moment before pulling the blankets over you and closing the door behind him. 
Joel tried to think about anything but the way your breasts looked in that dress, knowing you were just down the hall, as he fucked his own hand before passing out alone. 
He woke up before you the next morning and stood awkwardly in his kitchen, wondering what he should do. If you were a woman - well, a woman he’d fucked - he knew what he’d do. He’d try to make you breakfast, something that was good enough that you might want to come back and fuck him again. What did he make for his babysitter who he rescued from a bad date and then fell asleep on his arm? 
He started with coffee and waited, standing there awkwardly leaning against the counter where he’d had your hand in his the night before. Thankfully, you woke up not long after him, shuffling into the kitchen in bare feet, your hair mussed and mascara on your cheeks. You’d put on an oversized zip up hoodie that Sarah had stolen from him and never given back, the sleeves pushed up to your elbows, the sweatshirt not that much shorter than the dress below it. 
“Morning sunshine,” he teased you. It took you a moment to register that he was there, looking almost surprised when you did. “Coffee?” 
You wordlessly nodded, shuffling to the kitchen table and sinking into a chair before putting your head down on the table. He smiled and shook his head, pouring you a cup of coffee and adding some milk and sugar before putting it in front of you. 
“Not a morning person?” He asked, sitting beside you. You shook your head, lifting the mug to your lips and taking a long drink. You looked surprised again, looking from the mug to Joel. “Use your words, Kid.” 
“How’d you know how I like my coffee?” Your voice was still scratchy with sleep. 
“Took a guess,” he shrugged. “Didn’t quite have the materials for a lavender latte.” 
You glared at him before taking another sip of coffee and sighing happily. 
“How’s the wrist?” He asked, nodding to your arm. 
“Fine,” you said, stretching it out in front of you. There were black and blue fingerprints on it. Joel clenched his jaw. “Just a bit sore. How’s the hand?” 
“Fine,” he said, voice gruffer than he’d intended. You just nodded and drank more coffee for a moment. 
“So,” you said, setting the coffee cup down and crossing your sweatshirt-clad arms on the table. “Did I fall asleep on you last night? And if yes, how embarrassing was it?” 
“You did,” he replied, half smiling at the memory of you against him. You groaned, putting your head down on the table again. “Not embarrassing though. You only snored a bit, sounded like a very small chainsaw…” 
“I snored?” Your head shot up from the table, eyes wide. He just laughed, taking a sip of coffee. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Cruel. That’s what you are, you’re cruel. Such a weird trait for a man who’s favorite movie is ‘When Harry Met Sally’ but what do I know…” 
“You hungry?” He asked after a moment. “I could make you somethin’. Not sure what you might want…” 
“You have to get me to my apartment today, right?” You asked, fidgeting with your mug. He nodded once. “Well, there’s this great diner around the corner from me, makes the best waffles you’ve ever had in your life…” 
“Not a Waffle House is it?” He asked, quirking a brow at you. You glared at him. 
“No, Joel, it’s not a Waffle House,” you shook your head but you smiled a bit all the same. “I could take you to breakfast? It’s the least I could do…” 
“I know what I pay you, Kid,” he said. “I’ve got breakfast. But yeah, let’s go get these famous waffles. I gotta grab Sarah this afternoon, was thinkin’ of calling Tommy and having him meet us at your place…” 
“Why?” You frowned. “I’m just grabbing some clothes and stuff, hardly need a team for heavy lifting…” 
“Because if that asshole comes around again, I’ll need someone to keep me from kicking his ass,” Joel said wryly. 
You rolled your eyes but went along with him, finishing your coffee and walking barefoot to Joel’s truck, your shoes from the night before dangling from your hand. You rolled the window down on the drive, hanging your head out with your eyes closed until Joel got closer to your apartment. 
“Turn right here, instead of left,” you said, pointing to a place with red and white awning up ahead. “It’s just up there, on the right.” 
You led the way inside, the small restaurant bustling for early on a Saturday. One of the waitresses did a double take as she saw you with your face all but pressed against the dessert case. 
“Girl, what are you doing here this early?” She asked, snapping her gum.
“Just getting an early start,” you smiled. “How’s your morning going so far Luce?” 
“Oh you know how it is,” Luce looked you up and down. You were still wearing Joel’s hoodie from Sarah’s room. “You doin’ a walk of shame?”
“Luce!” You swatted her arm. “C’mon, give me SOME credit. You know I’d tell you immediately how it was if that ever happened.” 
The waitress barked a laugh and shook her head. There was a bell at the kitchen window and she looked behind her before going back to you. 
“Sit tight for like three minutes,” she snapped her gum again. “I’ve got a table that’s ready to cash out, let me run this food and take care of them and you can sit with me.” 
“You’re the boss,” you gave her a small salute before turning back and smiling to Joel. “Prepare to have your life changed, Joel. I’m telling you, these waffles? Will ruin you.” 
“Nah, you’ve built them up too much,” he shook his head, frowning. “Can’t be that good.” 
The waitress you’d talked to before brought you to a table and put menus in front of you before leaning in conspiratorially to your ear. 
“Thought you said this wasn’t a walk of shame?” She looked Joel up and down. 
“Luce, this is my friend Joel,” you gestured across the table. “I look after his daughter in the summer. Joel got me out of a tough spot last night…” 
“He could get me out of a tough spot any time,” she winked. You gaped up at her. Joel just laughed. “Sorry, sweetie! We’ve just been dying for this girl to actually come in with a man at some point. She’s been on dates, never seems to go anywhere! She’s too cute to die alone, if she doesn’t have hope none of us do.” 
“No, you’re right, this restaurant is life changing,” Joel smirked at you. You went red. 
“Thanks Luce, I’m going to just die here now, appreciate you,” you smiled sarcastically up at her. She just laughed. 
“Usual drink, babe?” She asked. You nodded. She turned to Joel. “And for you sugar?”
“Just coffee.” 
“A purist,” she snapped her gum. “Be back.” 
You watched her go before groaning and burying your head in your arms. 
“I really should have known better than to bring you here,” your voice was muffled. “This is really on me.” 
“How often to you come here?” Joel asked, smiling as you emerged from your makeshift shelter. 
“Every Saturday,” you said. “Usually like an hour before close when it’s a bit slower. I sit in….” You twisted and pointed to a small, two-seat booth in the corner. “That booth so I’m out of the way and I just people watch and have coffee and waffles and catch up with everyone here. They’re all really sweet. Plus they’ll sometimes send me home with stuff from the display case that’s getting tossed that I then use to bribe your daughter with during the week.” 
“That explains the sugar highs,” he said dryly. 
Luce returned, putting something frothy in front of you and a coffee in front of him. 
“Whatcha eatin’?” She snapped her gum again. 
“Can you do me just the hugest favor,” you bit your lip, eyes wide. Luce sighed. 
“Tell me,” she said. 
“Can you make the sampler for my friend here?” You asked. “He’s never been here before and he absolutely HAS to understand the depth of affection I have for the waffles.” 
“Only because it’s you,” she shook her head. “I just let you get away with murder…” 
“It’s because you love me,” you smiled. She just sighed. “And I’ll do… the chicken and waffles please.” 
She turned to Joel. 
“You’re getting a bunch of waffles sweetie,” she said. “Whatcha want with em? Eggs?” 
“Scrambled.” 
“Any meat?” 
“Bacon.” 
“Done,” she took your menus. “Don’t let her run roughshod over you like she does over me.” 
“Yes ma’am,” Joel smiled. 
“I’ve made so many mistakes in the last 24 hours and this might just be the worst,” you sighed, taking a sip of… whatever it is that you ordered. 
“You just make friends with everyone, don’t you?” He asked, watching you across the table. Your face turned serious for a moment and then you smiled again. 
“I try to,” you shrugged. “But I end up on my own most of the time. Which is totally fine, by the way, I like being by myself. Lots to do and solitude is a good way to do it.” 
He nodded slowly. 
“What about you?” You asked, stirring your drink with a straw. “Haven’t seen you bring many friends around. Except Tommy but family doesn’t count.” 
“Not a lot of time for friends,” he shrugged. “Got work, Sarah….” 
“Rescuing hapless college students.” 
He smiled. 
“I stay busy.” 
You stirred your drink again, bobbing your head slightly, in time to a song Joel could barely hear over the buzz of people in the cramped restaurant. 
“You really tell them all about your dating life?” He asked, half smiling at you. 
“Oh God,” you groaned and then laughed. “Yes. But only because it’s basically non-existent and I have almost no one else to talk to about it. Luce is convinced she’s a matchmaker. Maybe I should listen to her, she’s been right every time I’ve told her about a guy I’m seeing.” 
“Every time, really…” Joel’s jaw twitched a bit. He didn’t like thinking about you with other men. But he did have fun making you squirm a bit in your seat. “How many times is that, exactly?”
“Are you asking me about my love life, Joel?” You teased, leaning across the table at him. 
He matched your stance, his face ending up only a few inches from your own. Even now, you smelled good. Sweet, floral. A bit like lavender. 
“Curious about your track record,” he replied. You laughed. 
“It’s real bad,” you said, sitting up straight again. “Jeremy was the fourth guy I’ve gone out with since I came to Texas. He’s the only one who made it to date four and we saw how THAT ended. The others weren’t QUITE so awful. One came close to being that bad but otherwise, just run of the mill not working out. Believe it or not, there aren’t a lot of guys beating down the bio-lab door to get at the teacher in training.” 
Joel sat back in his seat, too. 
“Men are idiots,” he shrugged. “Especially when they’re in college. They wise up when they get older.” You bit your lip for a second before shaking your head to yourself. “What?” You scrunched your nose and shook your head. “C’mon kid. What were you going to say?” 
“They get better when they’re your age?” You blurted, blushing as you asked it. 
He watched you for a moment. 
“Like to think so.” 
Luce had been right. You’d ordered him a mountain of waffles. There were three of them, each quadrant a different flavor, topped accordingly, looking like a rainbow of food in front of him. He gaped at you and you shrugged, smiling as you cut into your own. You were right, too, though. They were the best waffles he’d ever had. And he wasn’t even that crazy about fucking waffles. Luce whispered something in your ear when she gave you a hug as you were leaving and it was enough to make you swat her on the arm before going to the truck, still smiling and shaking your head when you buckled up. 
Tommy asked few questions when Joel had called to ask him to come to your place and he’d beaten the two of you there, leaning against his truck. 
“Hey Tommy!” You hopped out of the truck and waved. You always sounded like whoever you were greeting made your day just by being there. It never seemed fake, either. Joel didn’t understand it. 
“Hey Kid,” Tommy smiled, hugging you briefly. “Heard I’m here to run interdiction.” 
“Your brother is paranoid,” you rolled your eyes, absently fidgeting with the sleeves of the hoodie. Tommy noticed the bruises at your wrist in the brief second they were exposed, grabbing your hand and shoving the sleeve up your arm. 
“The fuck is this?” He looked to Joel. 
“It’s nothing, really,” you took your hand back and Tommy didn’t fight you on it. “Just a… misunderstanding that Joel got me out of last night, that’s all.” 
“Misunderstanding my ass,” Joel muttered. 
“Some guy do that?” Tommy demanded. “What, he your boyfriend? Where is he?” 
“No!” You closed your eyes for a second and crossed your arms, Joel noticing the first traces of pain on your face since he’d picked you up last night. So you weren’t as OK as you looked, you were just damn good at hiding it. It passed quickly. “No, it’s just a guy I’d gone out with a few times and it just… didn’t go the way he wanted is all, it’s fine, it’s a misunderstanding, it won’t happen again, it’s fine. I promise it’s fine.” 
It didn’t look settled for Tommy. Didn’t feel settled for Joel.
“That’s why we’re getting some of her stuff,” Joel said. “He knows where she lives, she’s gonna stay with Sarah n’ me until her new place is ready. Wanted you here in case he showed his face.” 
“Afraid you can’t take him alone?” Tommy smirked a little. Like he knew the real reason. 
“Somethin’ like that,” Joel muttered. 
“OK so if the dick measuring contest is done, can we go inside and stop making a scene?” You fished your keys out of your purse. Joel’s eyebrows went up. He didn’t think he’d ever heard you say the word ‘dick’ before. Or be quite so blunt. 
“Sure Kid,” Tommy said. “We’re at your service.” 
“Such gallant gentlemen,” you smiled a little, leading the way to your apartment. It was on the ground floor of the small complex, a neighbor saying hi to you as you passed and giving a cagey look to the men trailing behind you.
Joel had never been inside your apartment before but, when he stepped inside, he imagined it was what it would be like to step into your mind. 
Everything was light and bright with soft things everywhere - a blanket draped over the back of the couch, pillows on a beanbag in the corner. There was a small cluster of plants on your windowsill and Christmas lights framing your bookshelves which were loaded down to the point that the boards were sagging in the middle. 
“Give me like five minutes to get changed?” You said, setting your purse down on the small breakfast bar that looked to serve as your only dining space. “Make yourselves comfortable, help yourself to anything…” 
You disappeared down the short hall and Joel took a minute to indulge his curiosity. He started with your bookshelf, the most worn copies. “Pride and Prejudice” looked like it was hanging on by a thread, the spine barely readable. He almost laughed. That fit you. “The Bell Jar” was also particularly worn. He hadn’t read that one, so he pulled it off the shelf and looked at the back, frowning. This seemed less like you. Or what he knew of you. He put it back. There were a lot of books on your shelf he didn’t know, and a lot that were in French that he may have known something about but fuck if he could tell what they were. 
You didn’t have many pictures, something he found oddly disappointing. There was one photo you’d framed of you with a girl who was the same age but it was years old, you couldn’t have been more than 15 in it. The few others there were looked to just be photos of you with an older woman, who must be your grandmother. There was a painting on the wall next to the bookshelf, almost too big for the space. A lavender farm. Of course it was. 
“I painted that.” 
Joel hadn’t noticed you come back in. You were still tying your mass of hair on the top of your head, wearing jeans and a threadbare t-shirt and the canvas tennis shoes you wore with fucking everything - the damn sundresses, the shorts that drove him crazy. He looked back to the painting. 
“It’s good,” he said. He wasn’t lying. He’d have never guessed you hadn’t bought it somewhere. 
“It’s that lavender farm, near my grandma’s place?” You stood next to him, looking at the painting. “Anyway, safe to say that can stay for now. Is it OK if I bring my plants? I don’t want them to drop dead because I’m not watering them when they need…” 
“Sure, Kid,” Joel smiled a little at you. “We’ll find a spot for them.” 
You looked relieved, finding a big, plastic tub to pack the plants in before going back to your bedroom. Joel followed you there and you handed him a worn duffle bag as you started to grab things to pack. Your bedroom, like the rest of your home, was you personified. There was a quilt on the bed that had to be about as old as you, tiny flowers covering the thing. The windows had frothy, white curtains, your bed had about six too many pillows. Stack of books on the nightstand, pressed framed flowers on the walls. All sweetness and softness and light. 
“Can you…” your face scrunched. “Close your eyes for just a sec?” 
Your hand hovered by a dresser drawer. He laughed. 
“Sure, Kid,” he obeyed, closing his eyes. “Pack your underwear without this old man watchin’.” 
“Not that old,” you muttered. He smiled, resisting the urge to sneak a peek at what it is you wore under those little dresses. 
It didn’t take long for you to gather your things, you turning in circles in each room a few times, muttering to yourself before nodding once, a sense of finality to it. 
“We can always come back if you forget somethin’,” Joel said. “But that’s a ‘we,’ no comin’ here on your own.” 
“I know,” you nodded. “But still, trying to avoid leaving stuff for school behind. I have exams soon, I need to study… Think I’m good, though.” 
You grab your purse and one of the three bags you’ve filled with the things you’ll need to survive a few weeks with Joel and Sarah. Joel grabs the other two, Tommy the box of plants and you fill up the bed of Joel’s truck. You’re about to get in your old car - a beater from the early 80s that Joel is still amazed made it from upstate New York to Texas in the first place - when a late model Ford F-150 that’s never done a day of work in its life pulled into the lot, closing your car in. You froze, a deer in headlights, as the fuckin’ guy from the night before stalked over to you and threw you against your car. 
Joel was over to you before he even realized he was moving, pulling the man away from you and shoving him to the ground. 
“What’d I tell you, boy?” He growled, pulling a fist back and bringing it down on his face. “Told you I’d kill you if you touched her again, didn’t I?” 
Joel hit him again, the man trying to protect his face, and he pulled his fist back to hit him again when you caught it, pulling him back. 
“Joel!” You were yelling it, like you’d been screaming it for a minute. Maybe you had been. Tommy was on him then, too, pulling him off the man on the ground. “He’s not worth it, Joel, he’s not worth it…” 
Joel got to his feet, breathless, the man on the ground curled in on himself. He turned to you, your eyes still wide. He wanted to hug you, hold you close. Instead, he just looked at you. 
“You OK?” He asked after a moment. You nodded once. He turned back to the man on the ground. “Take your truck and get the fuck out of here.” 
The man scrambled to obey and you watched, your body stiff, until he was out of sight. You deflated a bit when he was gone, the hint of a tear at the corner of your eye. 
“You’re OK Kid,” Joel said quietly. You looked at him, your eyes wide, trusting. “I’ll keep you safe. You’re OK.” 
You looked at him like you believed him.
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splendsay · 1 month ago
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COD FIC // Callsign: Sunshine // Ch. 34: Normal
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bruh. this one was a beast. I'd originally written like 3k words of an entirely different plot progression and I was just not happy with it (IT WAS TOO SAD I COULDN'T DO IT) and then this one just kept goin' and goin' and goin' and welp here we are.
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Callsign: Sunshine // Chapter 34: Normal
!!MDNI!!
Chapters: 34/? WC: 85,582 Pairing(s): TF141 x F!Reader (You) Chapter Warnings: Explicit language, reference to/implied previous non-con and torture Chapter Excerpt (ft. big time spoilers):
You can't not tell Simon. You just can't. 
You hate yourself for taking this long to realize it. Another tick in the column of 'Reasons You'll Never Be Good Enough For Him.'
It'll be awful. He's going to flip his fucking lid. And he'll blame himself. 
But you can't lie to him. Can't keep a secret like this. He's your -- he's...well...you don't know exactly. 
You love him. You do know that much. And you'd never willfully cause him harm or heartache. You'll help him see -- help him see that it's not his fault. 
You need to tell him. You want to tell him. You're ready to tell him. 
Unfortunately, the doctor insists on quarantining you in his office -- his little makeshift med bay -- while you undergo what he's calling 'testing and observation.' 
It starts the usual way. He picks up a small clipboard and pen, jotting things down as he weighs you. Measures your height. Takes your temperature. Quizzes you about your health status. Date of birth, family medical history, current symptoms. You rattle off answers to each inquiry, mind-numbingly practiced. Rehearsed. 
But then he asks you what the first day of your last period was and you draw a blank. It's...it's been so long, you haven't a clue. You tell him as much and he pauses his scribbling to look up at you, eyes boring holes through those little spectacles. 
"Explain," he says.
"I...I haven't had a regular period since before the Rift. Haven't had one at all in months."
His frown deepens as he notes it in your chart. "Can you remember roughly the last time you bled?"
You scan your memories. It's been ages. Since shortly after the rebels took over Temecula. You'd had such a hard time finding supplies, you'd ended up using bunched up old socks to spare your only pair of jeans the worst of it. 
"Late January, I think..."
He purses his lips and looks back down at your chart, humming thoughtfully. "Had you been regular prior to the Rift?"
"Yeah, I was. Before."
He makes a small harrumph noise. "Malnutrition, probably. Lifestyle. But we should keep an eye on it."
You snort at his use of the word lifestyle, as though you'd been given a choice in the matter, but you don't argue. 
"Are you sexually active?"
Your face heats. You can't help the sideways glance you give Soap, but he's not looking at you, he's looking at the floor. 
"I...yes."
"Number of partners in the last six months?"
You clear your throat to subdue the wave of nausea that roils through you. "Um...two."
"Are you using protection?"
You clench your teeth together. "Not at the moment..."
The doctor sighs. "You're not trying to conceive, are you?"
"I...no."
"Then you should probably be on something. Especially with your irregularity. I think I've a few IUDs in here somewhere."
"That's...really okay. I'm good."
He eyes you up and down. You feel every inch of it, like he's painting your skin with a brush made of judgment. "Very well," he says finally. "I've got Mifepristone too."
Soap sputters out a choked cough, but the doc just goes right into his next question. 
It goes on like this a little while longer. He peers in your eyes and ears, inspects the skin of your body in places beyond your wrist. Makes you stick out your tongue so he can look at your tonsils. Everything is normal, he says. 
Normal. Your mind gets stuck on that diagnosis. Normal. 
You don't feel normal. Your body does, you guess. Except for the part where your lungs feel a little too big for your ribcage. Or where your heartbeat feels like it's in stop and go traffic -- speeding up only to inexplicably slow down again seconds later. Your hands are perpetually damp. You keep having to wipe them on your legs. But those, at least, are feelings you're accustomed to. 
Normal.
If the abnormal is normal, then what good is the word to begin with? What the hell does it mean?
Eventually, the doctor handcuffs your left wrist to the long aluminum table he's sat you on, which is bolted to the cement floor. Just for safety's sake, he insists. You don't particularly care for it, but you also don't know for sure that your little group's theory is sound -- and God forbid you actually are infected and do turn. Soap protests plenty on your behalf, anyway, growling at the old man like a belligerent little bulldog. 
But, the doc, cold and aloof as ever, merely waves him off without so much as a word. 
You're freezing, likely un-helped by the cool metal biting into the bare skin of your thighs, the pajamas you'd brought down to the showers not quite appropriate for the frigid, sterile nature of this room. It's a complaint you've yet to voice, for fear that Soap will leave you here alone with the doctor to hunt you down a blanket. 
He's a strange man. Not creepy, per se. But he's difficult to read. Abrupt. Clinical. You don't like him. And he definitely doesn't seem to like you. You don't want to be stuck in silence alone with him. 
For whatever it's worth, he has managed to turn this space into a genuine infirmary. It came equipped with the table, of course, but also a small sink and several empty bookcases that he's now using for storage. The overhead lights are unlike that of any other room in the house -- and you wonder if they're his doing. The bulbs are fluorescent -- harsh and unpleasant. They feel like something a doctor would jive with. The house's power has always been intermittent, hence why most rooms come equipped with an oil lamp, so they flicker every now and again, which is decidedly atmospheric. Not in a good way.
But, it's a fitting backdrop to a situation so fucked up, you don't even know how to begin unraveling everything -- each problem its own cord, all tied up in a giant, tightly wound knot from hell. 
Let's see: you were bitten by a zombie on a mission gone awry, where you willingly placed yourself in harm's way to get your lover out of trouble and bury the bones of people who were important to your -- friend. Said lover is mad at you for disobeying an order, even though said disobedience saved his ass from certain death. Said friend is now caught in the middle of your fight with your lover because you decided to involve him in your stupid little zombie secret first. 
Oh! Also, said friend happens to be a man for whom you are harboring secret feelings of love even though his best friend is your aforementioned lover. And, is this your first brush with a love triangle amongst military pals? No! Your fucked up demon brain has a habit of this. You love Simon. You love Soap. Your love for both men grows on a near hourly basis -- twisting and twining together like some sort of grotesque fun house ribbon candy. You've no idea how to approach it -- how to be honest about your feelings without hurting one or both of them. You don't even know the extent of their feelings for one another, but a little voice in the back of your head tells you it's worth exploring. How the fuck does one broach that topic?
To make no mention that the parallels between this triangle and the last are drudging up a whole host of nightmarish memories that you've spent the last three years attempting to bury. Images of your former lovers' dead, unseeing eyes flickering on the back of your own eyelids any time you close them for too long. The feeling of Mod's shoulder pounding into your ribcage as he tries to escape with you not unlike the feeling you get now when you remember what happened after you were separated from him. 
And on top of it all -- you're not turning. You aren't turning into a zombie like you should be. The most likely culprit? Your beloved father, Inventor of the Zombie Virus That Continues to Plague the World, and his covert inoculation efforts cleverly disguised as an old man slowly losing his mind over the powers of tea.  
Yeah. Normal. Everything is super normal.
..................................................................... Links to: Spotify Playlist Full Fic
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tinyfishtits · 5 months ago
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Reader, being a new member but oh so tough gunslinger as well, doing excellent at the latest heist with the gang. Micah seeing this, can't comprehend what his inner turmoil is about (pssst - it is catching feelings)
have a good day!
Another day, another Ask answered! Thanks for this prompt anon! Got carried away with the heist of it all but hope ya like it 🤠 TW: Some violence and brief mention of blood
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“Need an extra gun?” I cut in, the group of men before me fell quiet. Bill and Micah practically sneered at me. Arthur, however, considered. He’d been the one to introduce me to the gang a week ago after I saved his ass in a robbery job gone sideways back in Valentine. He knew at the very least that I could handle myself with a gun. 
With an exasperated sigh he said, “If it means I’m not stuck with these lugs… sure.” 
Bill gawked at him, instantly going sour at the prospect. “Wha-” He stuttered, “You can't be serious!” Arthur ignored him, walking over to mount his horse. “Can’t believe this…” Bill grumbled to Micah, who was eying me up like a cow at auction, “First Arthur butts in now this?? There ain’t gonna be no money left to split!” 
Micah narrowed his eyes at Bill, it seemed the man got on everyone's nerves, “There better be.” Micah warned, “You said there was a few hundred in that coach, you lyin’?” Bill just huffed in reply, stomping off to the horses. 
With one last lingering glance at me, Micah strode over to his mount, the three men now waiting for me. “Uh-” I hesitated, “I don’t have a horse.” 
Arthur pointed to a grazing horse a few feet away, “Have Kieran saddle that one up for ya.” Bill let out an exaggerated groan at the wait.
“Just get over here, doll.” Micah said, stretching a hand out to me. When I hesitated he added, “Baylocks a big boy, he can handle ya.” Taking my hand he effortlessly swung me up behind him, my ass on the horses bare back. Without a second to situate myself he kicked the horse forward and I jolted, white knuckling Micah’s leather jacket to keep myself from slipping off, much to his amusement. 
Trying not to let the nervousness I felt at the prospect of tumbling to the ground show, I asked, “How far we goin’?” 
“Dewberry Creek.” He said simply, though I could almost hear the smirk in his voice as he added, “Better hold on tighter than that, darlin’.” And spurred Baylock into a gallop. I gasped, my arms wrapping around his middle as I held onto him for dear life, my eyes clamped shut. 
I could count the times I’d ridden a horse on one hand, never having had the luxury to learn. Nor was it a necessity in the small town I’d been brought up in. Shooting, however, was where I made up for my general lack of skill in most other areas. It came easy to me. 
Micah steered us off the main road, following the creek up north as Bill told us the plan, if you could even call it that. “The coach should be coming down from New Hanover, We’ll get ‘em when they cross the creek.” 
“Get them how?” Arthur asked, his tone laced with annoyance. 
“Uh- Y’know… Shoot ‘em” Bill spluttered. “Bill…” Arthur groaned. We were already coming up on the fork in the road the coach would be passing through. 
“Hell, I don’t know Arthur! You’re the expert!” 
“You- This was your damn idea!” The two began bickering. 
“Would ya shut up!” Micah yelled at them as the coach came into view on the hill above, along with four mounted gunmen flanking it on all sides and two more trailing behind. 
“Shit.” Arthur muttered, “You said it wouldn’t be guarded!”  “Well… I, uh, miscalculated.” Bill grumbled. 
Then, instead of turning down the road to where we waited in the dried up creek bed, the coach kept going straight up toward Emerald Ranch. 
“Dammit Bill…” Micah said, rearing Baylock to chase after them when Bill just… started shooting. 
The coach swerved as the horses pulling it attempted to flee from the gunfire that sputtered erratically at the path in front of them. Veering off the road, the coach lost balance and tumbled to the creek below with a thundering CRASH. 
Disoriented by the sudden chaos erupting around them, the mounted gunmen hesitated to retaliate. Still partially concealed by the steep hill of the creek's bank, they couldn’t make out where we were. Wasting no time, I slipped down from the horse, revolver in hand and began shooting. 
No longer needing to worry about stopping the coach I focused my fire on the gunmen, picking them off one by one. After the first one went down with a clean shot to the head, the others rushed me. Two of them jumped from their horses, running toward me while the other three continued down the path and were quickly pursued by Arthur and Bill. 
They came at me from either side, their aim so piss poor I didn’t even flinch at the gunfire which landed a good several feet from me. Pivoting on my heels I took them both out in a single spin. Though my aim wasn’t as perfect as I would have liked, having only got one in the head while the other writhed around, a hand clutching his throat as it erupted in a fountain of blood. I walked over and put him swiftly out of his misery. 
Looking up from their corpses I saw Micah watching me, having only just dismounted his horse. A figure flashed in my peripheral, the coach driver. He fled up the hill, almost over the crest of it when, giving it no more than a sidelong glance, I shot him square in the chest. 
I turned back to Micah who cocked his head, his attention fixed on me as he seemed to really notice me for the first time. I twirled my revolver around my finger before holstering it, shooting Micah a smirk. He prided himself on being a good gunslinger, he’d made that abundantly clear even in the short time I’d been at the camp. But by the look on his face, I liked to think I was giving him a run for his money and he knew it. 
“Everything alright?” Arthur yelled to us as he and Bill rounded the hill. I walked up to the coach, whose rear safe had been busted open in the crash and let out a whistle. Bill was right, there was a good few hundred in cash alone, not even counting the two gold bars. “I’d say so…” I replied. 
I could feel Micah’s eyes on me as he joined me by the coach, hands on his hips as he continued to look me over. I whipped my head around to face him when I caught a gleam of movement from the side of the coach. Another man crawled out from under the debris, bloodied and battered from the fall with a pistol in hand which he shakily raised, pointing it at Micah’s back. 
Micah’s eyes flicked to my hand as I whipped my gun from my holster. Turning with my movement he shot at the man in the same second I pulled my trigger. Both of our bullets landing in his forehead and with a dull ‘thunk’ the man slumped over face first into the mud.
“Well, I think that’s all of ‘em.” I said. They all looked at me in silence, Arthur and Bill only just now reaching for their sidearms. The surprise on their faces wasn't as… vindicating as I had anticipated. I felt more annoyed than anything that they thought so little of me. Did I really come off that helpless?
Their attention quickly returned to the money. “Ha!” Bill barked a laugh, greedily grabbing up the gold bars, “I told ya!” He exclaimed, elbowing Arthur in the side, “Look at all this-” 
“Remember to give the camp its share.” Arthur chided, snatching the gold and cash from his hands before dispersing it evenly between us all. Bill huffed and grumbled to himself before heading back to his horse. Only Arthur seemed to notice the bodies strewn about and tipped his hat to me with a quick, “Nice work.” Before mounting his horse as well.
“Now make yourself scarce!” He yelled back to us as he rode away. 
Micah was rubbing thoughtfully at his facial hair when I turned back to him, eyes narrowed as he surveyed me. 
“What?” I asked, not bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice at his wandering eyes. I felt a little stupid for expecting him to comment on my shooting, even more so when I was disappointed he didn’t. He straightened, clearing his throat his only response before he started off toward Baylock. 
He mounted the horse expertly, reaching a hand out to me once more. My face crinkled at the thought of bouncing around on the horse's bare ass for the ride back. 
“I want the saddle.” I said simply. Micah’s brows rose at the request, a smirk on his lips as he pushed himself over the back of the saddle and patted it. My attempt to mount the beast wasn’t nearly as graceful as his had been, though I was able to haul myself up on my first try, much to my own surprise. 
Feeling a little over confident in my ability to get us back to camp, adrenaline still coursing through my veins, I nudged Baylock forward and he instantly started into a gallop. A shocked yelp escaped my lips as I grasped at the saddle horn, fumbling to keep hold of the reins at the same time. 
Micah chuckled behind me, his hands reaching out to hold me steady. “You wanna keep yourself up with your thighs darlin’.” His gravelly voice whispered against my ear. If I hadn't been so close to sliding off the saddle I would have batted his hands away. “Move your hips with the horse… It ain’t called ridin’ for nothin’.”
My face blushed at his words, though they really did help. Baylock seemed to relax as I did, our movements becoming one in the same as we calmed to a trot back to camp. I’d half expected Micah to try feeling me up, but the moment I felt in control of the horse his hands disappeared from my hips. It was an unexpectedly respectful gesture coming from the sleazy, rude, flirt of a man I’d quickly come to know him as. 
Our ride back to camp was quiet, no sign of the law. Which was a small blessing given any excitement would have surely resulted in me falling off the horse. I was getting the hang of riding, but that was it. My skill didn’t reach any further than simply staying upright. 
We returned right as Pearson announced dinner, my mouth watered at the word alone. Dismounting, I gave Micah a nod and eagerly started off toward the steaming pot of stew when he called my name. I stopped, turning only slightly to acknowledge him. 
“Would ya- Um…” He rubbed at his neck, the gesture almost… shy. “I could teach you how to ride, sometime. If you’d want.”
I cocked my head at him, considering. I’d never heard him offer to help anyone with, well, anything. “Why?”
“Forget it.” He huffed, turning back to tend to Baylock.
“No.” I said firmly. “Speak your mind, Bell.” He narrowed his eyes at me but sighed, giving in.
“You’re a good gun.” He continued, “A damn good one… But you should know how to ride. If you want to tag along on more jobs, that is.” He rose a brow to me in question, a smile spread on his lips, “As much as I like you all cuddled up to me darlin’, It ain't practical.”
I shrugged, and replied with a simple “Okay.” Though the satisfaction I got from his praise burned through me like fire. I turned back toward camp for dinner, the feeling of Micah’s lingering gaze boring into me the entire way.
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If you liked this, check out my other Micah works!
★ My Masterlist ★
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asherbakugou · 6 months ago
Text
Morimoto's
Kai Kalama | (She/They)
Reader stood beneath the overhang of their apartment building, off to the side so she wasn't in the way of those entering or leaving. Shifting side to side in their heels, they struggled to not reach for her phone to check the time or to see if there were any new texts from Kai.
The loud rev of a motorcycle had her searching the streets for the dark red, gold, and black cycle that Kai adored. It pulled up, with Kai flipping up his sunglasses, having decided against wearing his helmet, to flash them a wink and smirk.
"Flirt," Reader teased, the familiarity making Kai laugh. At least once a day, she called him a flirt, though recently they'd taken to calling him 'my flirt' if they were feeling particularly sappy.
"You know it, bombshell." Kai allowed his eyes to wonder over their attire, damn near salivating at the exposed skin of their chest and legs. Seeing that, Reader spun around to give him a full 360 allowing him to the design along the back of her leather jacket. "Holy shit, you look sexy."
Reader trailed their eyes over his attire, a red silk button up, black slacks, and boots, all pulled together with the leather jacket he wore over top. "You look good yourself."
He smirked, smugly smoothing a hand down the front of his shirt as she came closer. Perking up, he reached out to hook a hand around her thigh, looking up into their eyes, "Is this alright?"
"I'd stop you if I didn't like when you touched me, hotstuff." Reader rested a hand on his shoulder as their eyes flicked to his lips. Kai grinned, tilting his head back to watch their lips in turn.
"So, do I get a hello kiss?"
Huffing, Reader bent down, stopping before their lips could connect, "Don't push your luck, Kai. You still haven't taken me to dinner."
"Well then I guess we better get goin'. Wouldn't want you to miss out on the best date of your life." Kai scooted back a bit so she could sit in front of him.
"I'll have to ride sideways," Reader noted, sitting down in front of him. Their eyes flicked up towards him, searching his face to see if that was alright but he didn't seem to care, more preoccupied with watching her.
"Fine with me." Shifting closer, he carefully guided her legs to rest over his, using his other arm to tuck her more securely against his front. "Hold on tight, bombshell, don't want an accident."
Tucking her arms into Kai's jacket, they felt the shiver that ran down his spine as they rest their face against his chest. "Let's get going, shall we?"
"We shall."
The motorcycle ride was smooth, with Kai going the speed limit rather than shooting past all the cars and trying to make it before the light changed as he normally did. He later admitted to her that he didn't to mess anything up by getting either of them hurt or in trouble.
Kai pulled up to Morimoto's, a three story sushi and hibachi restaraunt with only the finest chefs allowed to work there. The building was old-fashioned in make, but it was very obviously new with a stream of actual koi fish swimming below the bridge one needed to get inside.
Reader was in absolute awe, a smile splitting apart her face as they saw the large sign above the restaraunt. "You remembered?"
Kai shifted, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, "You were so excited about the place, I might have wrote it down in my notes so I would remember it. For when I asked you on a date."
Turning, Reader grabbed his face to tug him down so they could kiss him. His hands immediatley dropped to their hips, squeezing as he tried to deepen the kiss.
"Not right now, Romeo. Maybe after dinner," Reader teased, pulling away. Kai gave her a dopey grin as he straightened up.
"It'll happen." He seemed incredibly confident in himself as he offered an arm for them to take.
Dinner was positively amazing, their chef making them and the others at the table laugh and cheer in awe. He seemed to employ everyone of his tricks, showing off as he served them.
Kai spent the time, watching Reader without being obvious about it. He was in awe of her smile and laughter, reaching out to gently rest a hand on their thigh, squeezing when they simply placed a delicate hand on his own.
And compared to his hands, scarred and heavily calloused from handling swords and fighting, theirs were delicate with smaller scars and callouses from sewing and drawing. Taking her hand, he raised it too press a kiss against their knuckles, smiling at the flush that spread across their cheeks.
Reader, of course, admired how handsome Kai looked, all dressed up in the warm lighting that brought attention to his tanned, scarred skin and brilliant amber eyes. They seemed to glow with fire anytime the chef ignited flames across his stove, much to her amazement. When his hand came to rest on her thigh, they thought their heart was going to beat straight of their chest. His calloused palm was warm, melting her straight down to her core and when he lifted her hand to his lips, she genuinly thought they were gonna become a puddle at his side.
Dessert was just as delicious, with Kai happily eating matcha basque cheesecake while Reader had picked out matcha tiramisu to try. Nudging him, Reader caught Kai's attention.
"Can I try your cheesecake? I've never had matcha cheesecake," Reader admitted. Scooping up a spoonful, Kai offered it too her, struck dumb when she reached forward to take the bite without taking the spoon as he'd assumed they'd do.
Kai watched her lips with rapt attention, unable to look away as she licked a little from her lips. "Its good."
"Yeah," Kai whispered, still stuck in a trance.
"Do you wanna try a bite of mine?"
"Huh, uh, yeah sure. Can't say I've had matcha tiramisu."
He decided to do the same thing she'd done to him, leaning forward to take the bite from her spoon. His core warmed at the smirk that ticked the corner of their lips up, her eyes focused on him with the same attention he'd given them.
After paying, Kai paid waving off her attempts to split the bill, and he even made sure to leave a generous tip for the chef since Reader had liked it so much.
"I did tell you how hot you look, didn't I bombshell?" Kai asked, smirking when she reached up to lightly tap a long nail against the clasps on their chest.
"You might've, but I don't seem to remember."
"Well, bombshell," Kai began, as they stopped in front of his bike, "You look absolutely, jaw-droppingly, ravishing. I'd get down on my knees anytime for you."
She laughed, startled by sudden raunchy joke, but felt a sense of pleasure curl along her spine. "I'm glad you like it. And you, my silver tongued flirt, look absoluteky stunning yourself all dressed up for me."
Grinning, they couldn't help but press their lips together. The kiss became far hotter than it should have, with Readers nails scraping Kai's scalp as his hand dropped to her thigh until a car honked.
"We should uh, probably get goin', huh?" Kai asked, laughing even as he glared after the car that interupted. "But, before that, I have a question for you."
"Go ahead," Reader murmured, hands cupping his cheeks.
"Will you be my girlfriend, or uh, partner?"
Reader smiled, throwing their arms around his neck, "Yes. Yes, I'll be your girlfriend."
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msookyspooky · 1 year ago
Note
Slashers at a Haunted House
Severen please😳😩
Meant to post this over the weekend!!
Slashers at a Haunted House:
Severen Van Sickle
18+ • Short Story Imagines • GN!Reader x Severen from Near Dark • Smut • Exhibitionist/Voyeur • Fear & Adrenaline • Blood & Gore • Power Dynamics • Slight CNC • Oral with GN!Reader Recieving / AFAB & AMAB Anatomy • Sketchy Sex in Public Places
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"C'mon! Don't tell me yer scared of this lil spook shack." Severen teased with a lopsided grin. In that thick Texas drawl that sounded like it was from back when drawing guns and robbing train cars was a thing.
You huffed, arms folded as you saw the very sketchy haunted house in the rough part of town that barely had anyone here. "N-No it's just out of our way is all." You lied. Still human and very much still vulnerable to fear.
Severen grinned wider, his filed down teeth sharpened points that he flaunted anytime of year. Fall was just less questioning. "Aw, c'mon now. Don't tell me I'm dating a chicken shit scared of some guys in masks with ugly faces popping out at ya!"
You rolled your eyes, pouting a bit. "I am not that scar- AH!!" You screamed so much louder than you intended when a scare actor ran up on you out of nowhere in the dark parking lot.
Severen laughed loudly, head thrown back in the hearty gleefully impish way he did as the scare actor stalked away to find a new victim. "Ha! Aww, you really are a scaredy cat, aren't ya angel?" He cooed between snickers.
You glared at him knowing he saw the damn actor rushing you and said nothing.
He just drew you closer to him with a firm grip. "Hey...We're gonna have fun, alright? You'll see, sweetheart...Besides, have I ever hurt you or led you to some place you would get hurt?" He gave you a charming sideways smile.
You raised a brow because he has accidentally done both. He rolled his dark blue eyes with a tsk. "Gee, ya got so much faith in me I'm blushin' from the love I'm feelin' here."
You smirked a little at his sarcasm. "Okay...Fair enough. But I hope you know I'm going to be hanging onto you the entire time."
"That's the point!" He smiled "You can grip me as tight as you want. Break a rib or two; it'll just get me goin'." He whispered huskily in your ear. You ducked your head a bit with a smile.
His spurs jangled as you both walked in. You were excited but he seemed so chill. Like he was at an art museum not a haunted house with people in dark tight spaces jumping out at you.
You both were led to a room were a demonic 'birth' happened and the scare actor told some story to set the tone of the place. Severen heckled a tad just to nudge you and get a smirk or two but other than that he just had his hands in his pockets with you in front of him.
As soon as it came time to move through the scare house rooms; you instantly felt your adrenaline pumping. Going through an old wild west room with skeltons and outlaws wasn't too bad till a damn corpsey looking skeleton dropped from above down at you. You jolted back into Severen as he giggled and held you still.
"Calm down, sweetheart! It's just an old dusty bag of bones. You see Jess everyday; This should be nothin."
Okay, you did chuckle a bit at that as he grinned and moved you both on through. "Jesse would kick your ass if he heard that."
Severen laughed. "Ha! I'd like to see the ole saddlebag try!"
Even if you knew he was joking and deeply respected Jesse. Hell, Jesse was probably the only creature alive that made Severen behave himself.
You went through a 'cabin' with a bunch of inbred mutant hillbillies yelling and jumping out of walls. Banging pots and having fake guts that smelled putridly close to the real thing near you. Severen grinned like a kid at a candyshop while you were hiding in his jacket.
One tried to scare him and he hissed at them, showing off his teeth and the scare actor backed away. You could tell the actor didn't know what to say having gotten out of character as Severen just smiled and walked you and him on through.
"See? You don't got nothin' to worry 'bout. Jus' a bunch of loud fucks jumping out hollarin'... 'Boo!' He quickly grabbed your sides and you jumped before chuckling and shoving him away. All before an animatronic zombie sprung from the wall withering and groaning and scared the shit out of you enough to grab ahold of him again.
Severen got a good laugh out of that as you exclaimed, "Fuck this place!" Even if you were smirking a bit.
He gave a huffing sort of chuckle and slung an arm around you as he forced you through the next room. Strobe lights, a putrid smell in the air, a body jerking on a medical table and another one covered.
"Uh uh!" You mumbled trying to turn but he just turned you back around snickering while trying to push you forward. Using a quarter of his strength as you put your brakes on.
He sighed heavily. "Fiinne, I'll go first chicken shit." He dragged you behind him and you realized that was a mistake because they waited till he was halfway in before the one on the table jumped out at you and another sprung out from a hidden door in the wall. You practically jumped on Severen's back and he just stood there grinning. Letting the scare actors get up in his face to try and scare him as he looked downright out amused. He made a wise crack about health insurance to the doctors and then they just tried focusing on you as you, no matter what your size, dragged Severen by the arm out of there as he laughed his ass off. Tripping over his own two feet in his boots at being off balance by you.
"Okay, okay! We're goin'. Relax!" He laughed as you both rounded the corner to a much creepier area.
Some makeshift butcher shop that was almost completely dark with a few red lights. Fake dead bodies and body parts everywhere and a smell that imitated blood.
You cringed, "Ugh, this is neat but I hate it." You whined a bit having fun but also your human heart beating out of your chest.
"Really?" Severen commented taking a big whiff. "Smells as good as cherry pie to me!" He winked at you. "Though not as good. Guess comparing some artificial bullshit fragrance from the real thing."
You weren't even listening to him. Too preoccupied in what was happening. An animatronic dropped from the ceiling as a dead body right over top of his head and he just looked annoyed for the first time tonight when it dropped too low. All before a human scare actor jumped out at the same time and maybe it was the blood smell distracting him or the animatronic or too many distractions for even a vampire to comprehend it all but a guy with a butcher knife tried to grab Severen...And in a harsh motion Severen just instinctively lashed at him and sent him flying into the wall.
Your eyes widened and even Severen looked a bit surprised. "...Oops." He mumbled with a slight bewildered smirk.
The guy groaned, yelling out in pain as a rib or two was definitely broken. Severen sighed, shrugging at you before walking up to him and picking him up by the back of his head. "Welp, looks like the butcher is getting chopped. Can't have you gossiping...I'm damn hungry any." He joked while slamming the guy against the wall. "All this imitation blood is makin' me hungry as a tired hound!"
The guy grunted and tried to fight Severen and he just gripped his head and started slowly twisting to snap his neck in a quick death. "How's 'bout I show ya what actual blood smells like?" Severen purred out with a grin.
The victim he had threw the butcher knife and you yelped as it cut your arm...Jesus Christ, was that real!? Severen's eyes flared, sneering as he ripped the guys head clean off...CLEAN...OFF. You had never seen him do that! The sound of you yelping and smelling your blood set him on edge like no other as he ripped his head off and with the angle the guy was decapitated; that blood from the bodies arteries in the neck spurted out all over you like a damn water gun when he accidentally aimed it at you when he jerked to see if you were okay.
Blood went EVERYWHERE! On your face, your chest, your stomach and legs. Soaking over your clothes that didn't cover much anyways with you being down South in the fall. Your mouth hung open in shock as you outstretched your hands looking down at your body dripping red. The metalic smell hitting you in the face.
Severen cringed. "...Oops...."
You sighed heavily looking irritated but defeated as your entire everything was soaked in sticky hot blood.
Severen clicked his tongue against his teeth with a sheepish smirk. "Sorry, sugar...C'mon! The guy was askin' for it!..." He then came towards you with a concerned look. "Ya alright?"
You forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."
He grabbed your arm. "Liar." He muttered as he gently brought your arm up seeing more blood on that arm dripping to your fingertips. "I can smell yer blood type anywhere, angel...YN...Yer bleedin' too much. That bastard really got ya." He lowered his head to smell.
"I'm fine."
He lowered his face more not letting to of your arm. "No, yer bleedin'." Releasing a shuddering breath and letting his warm wet tongue swipe firmly across the cut. Savoring your taste as his eyes closed. It kept bleeding as he darted his tongue out, lapping little licks over the thin cut before gently sucking. It missed arteries but it still bled.
You felt your stomach flip and heat rise in you. "U-Uh, it's okay...."
"Then let me clean you up. No use letting it all go to waste." He mused while kissing the cut. Groaning to himself at the flavor of you on his lips.
"Um, you're uh...You're wasting blood over there already." You mumbled with wide eyes at the headless body in a pool of its own blood a few feet away.
"No, I ain't." He corrected as he licked a splatter of the man's blood off your arm. "Besides, I ain't licking floor blood. What do ya take me for? A damn dog?" He teased with a husky voice. Blue eyes still hooded as he lapped at your skin. Licking down your arm and wrist before he brought your hand up to dart his tongue out in tickling licks to flicker over your fingertips like the tease he was before sucking your fingers clean of any blood that dripped down your arm.
You were definitely flustered, loins doing that tingling heat thing as you looked at his heavy lidded eyes gazing at you as he sucked and kissed your fingers. "S-Sev! Someone will come in-"
"No they won't." He reassured as he picked you up with his inhuman strength and pinned you to a wall in the corner. Knocking a few props away with his boot. "If they do? We'll jus' say it was part of the act."
He swiped his tongue over your neck and throat, grazing his razor sharp teeth over your vocal cords as you whimpered before licking a firm trail of his tongue up to your mouth. Kissing you deeply with a groan low in his throat. Gripping you and licking the blood from your face and lips before forcing you to taste it on his tongue. You didn't like the taste, still human and the amount of blood not appealing and yet you didn't hate it either. Not when it was him.
He pulled away, blood on his lips; making them look more full while tinted red. He grinned. That euphoria hitting like it always did with blood. Like the sexiest most happiest most wonderful drug as they described it.
They all pointed at the dead bloody, raving how realistic this was before leaving. Severen chuckled at how flustered you were. "Not the best acting abilities babe but with looks like this? Who needs it." He mused as he sucked at your bare nipples/sucked your nipples through whatever garment you had and you whined at the hot rush pulsing between your legs.
You gasped sharply as he ripped your drenched blood red shirt off of you in one clean jerk and you faltered with big eyes. He sucked on the fabric a bit in his hand trying to get that blood before dipping down to lap at the flesh before him. Sliding and swirling and flicking his tongue over your chest and navel. You covered your mouth with heat rising in you. Eyes darting around as you were scared someone might see. You saw a group of people going by and ducked your head in embarrassment at being exposed. Severen blocked you, grinning a bloody sharp toothed grin over his shoulder while looking like he was a scare actor 'eating' another scare actor.
"Sev, please...We'll get caught..."
"Sshhhhhh." He hushed as he kissed down your navel while turning you so you weren't too immodest to any passing people. "Best part? You can scream as loud as ya want and no one will be the wiser, darlin'." He swirled his tongue with a smirk at the blood on your stomach and worked his way down before impatiently sliddinhlg your pants down.
You covered your mouth tighter as he slid your pants and or underwear down to your upper thigh. Just enough to lick what was important. The blood from your shirt had smeared onto your pelvis and he greedily licked his tongue over your skin in firm, flat swipes.
You quivered a little feeling his tongue getting closer to your sex. You were throbbing, heat pooling down there as he smirked up at you. Kneeling on one knee with a satisfied groan like growl coming from his throat. "Mm...Someone's excited."
"B-Because you're..." You trailed off.
He giggled, "Don't go blaming me. I can smell it on ya a mile away just from licking your fingers but this?-" He gently swiped a finger over your privates to collect the liquid your body was producing already whether pre-cum or slickness. It was A LOT on his finger tips. Your body knew what it wanted before you did. Practically dripping as you whimpered at his finger swiping over such a sensitive spot. He continued, "This? What a naughty lil darlin' I have...Hmm."
He blew air on you down there as you flinched. "What should I do to such a naughty thing, hmm? I mean gee...I done cleaned off all the blood. What else is there?" He mockingly gave with faux innocence.
God damn, he was gonna make you say it?! His teasing was ridiculous!
"S-Sev please."
"Please what?" He asked blue eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Please...Lick me."
He hummed. "Ooh...Like here?" He purposely barely licked near you. Tongue flicked at your inner thigh. "Here?" He fluttered his tongue on your pubic area so close yet not touching the throbbing that you needed touched to cum. "Well gosh, YN! How am I supposed to know if you won't say it?" He remarked with a smirk.
"...Please...Lick my...Cock/Pussy."
Severen grinned like a Cheshire Cat laughing at how flustered you were. "Well why didn't ya jus' say so? Sure, baby. I'll lick ya...I'll lick ya reeaalll good." He drew out with a husky chuckle before diving his head down.
You had to cover your mouth as a strained cry tried to escape. His tongue in flat, wet, firm strokes lapped at the tip/your clit.
Jesus! He didn't warm up or even tease like he normally did. Just those firm but flexible laps as wetness collected on his tongue. Your hips twitched at the urupt stimulation. He grunted at your taste as he closed his eyes and had uour hips in a death grip. His rough hands holding them firmly as you could feel his cool metal rings on your warm skin. He kept a pace he knew you liked. No teasing, just him wanting you to come undone on his mouth in a public place.
He dived back down, replacing his hand with his mouth. Careful when sucking and licking you from his filed down teeth. You barely felt his sharp teeth so delicate it almost tickled as he held your hips still so he didn't accidentally hurt you. His tongue warm and wet with saliva as he spreaded your own liquids with his tongue. Groaning into you as his tongue lapped faster. Right underneath your tip/clit as you tried so hard not to cry out but failed. A strained groan falling from your mouth...It just made him be firmer with the base of his tongue. Going up and down, side to side, fluttering, swirling. He was an insatiable greedy menace lapping and licking like a madman.
He used his hand to replace his tongue. Firmly rubbing you to talk. "Don't be shy, baby. Cry, moan, hollar. Ain't no one gonna know what's what in here." His hand moved faster, fingers dancing lightly in a fast pace over your skin as you trembled and gasped out a moan. Unable to control it, unable to move away with his iron grip, people being able to pass by at anytime.
"That's my darlin'."
You gripped the wall behind you, chest rising and falling as your groans and whimpers and moans were more urgent. You couldn't keep quiet with what he was doing. Your adrenaline pumping so much from the fear of being caught.
Then he added a hand. What his mouth couldn't do because of his teeth or the position; he did with his fingers. Grasping your aching cock firmly to pump / inserting not one but two fingers into that slick needy heat to stretch you out deliciously and rub at your g spot. All while his tongue and mouth sucked and licked making smacking noises in between his moans. His eyes hooded as he was enjoying doing this as much as you were recieving.
Your hips went from flinching away to lightly bucking against his face. He chuckled in his throat before growling a low rumble in his chest that vibrated in his throat as he kept up a firm fast pace.
Loud moans were coming out of you. Head back as he was relentless.
A group of people came by and you felt fear grip you at them seeing you in the dark-ish corner, red light refelecting on you. Trying to cover your upper body and Severen feverishly lapping at you. His head of dark hair blocking the view of your genitals thank god but they still looked...And Severen purposely pumped you harder. Hand tighter / Fingers firmer as you felt the heat erupting in you against your will.
"Nnnoo! DONT!! PLEASE DON'T!" You yelled out breathlessly. Before screaming. Absolutely throwing your head back and releasing a groaning scream right as these people walked by all before an animatronic on the opposite side of the room jumped out at them and they ran screaming themselves...They thought your pleas and screams were part of the act.
You gripped Severen's hair hard and rode your orgasm out when he wouldn't stop. Bucking your hips with teeth gritted and a low growling groan escaping you as all that pleasure tingled every part of you. Erupting inside you and then fizzling out. He kept going and it overstimulated so bad you jerked his hair harshly to the point you could've ripped it out.
"Ow! Babe, that hurts...I can handle a truck hittin' me, a shotgun, cold cocked in the jaw, stabbed but hair pulling is off limits...Shit hurts!" He pouted and pulled away. He smirked soon after as he drew his fingers away from you and licked any cum he might've missed; clean.
You stared down at him, panting. You almost slid down the wall from the intense orgasm you just had as he quickly stood up and braced you. "Easy there...That was so good. That's my baby. You were s' damn sexy...Taste s' good on my tongue." He praised in a husky whisper in your ear while holding you and kissing your head.
You were limp a moment. If you could purr you would. That was one of the best you ever had and so kinky in public and just...Memorable for sure. And how he treated you made you weak kneed.
He giggling a bit. "C'mere." He hugged you a second. "I'd love to stand here holdin' ya, sweetie...Buuutttt-" He gestured to the body.
Reality set in as you realized you had no shirt now. You both heard the scare actors yelling and talking to each other a room away and you panicked. He shrugged off his jacket then his over-sized red flannel he wore. He quickly gave it to you, whether it was too tight or too loose didn't matter. As long as it covered you enough to get out of here. Your shirt he ripped off was evidence and would've been a red flag as soon as you exited anyways.
He slung an arm around you to support you as you pulled your pants up and adjusted his flannel.
"Welp, time to head out. This was fun, YN." He mused as he quickly led you away to get out of here before scare actors realized he killed their coworker and police were called. If you did get on camera; it wouldn't be the first. The clan was good at evading cops and hiding as vampires.
Once through the rooms he slowed his pace. Having his arm around you with a leisure stride and smile. Boots jangling with his spur on each step. The security guard stared at you both...Eyeing the red on your dark pants but it wasn't as noticeable as your old now destroyed shirt was. You and Severen smiled and walked out the building. Scott free.
He leaned down. Whispering to you. "Close one. Nights young. How bout we get to some place private so we can keep having fun."
You eagerly nodded with a smirk still on an adrenaline rush you just did what you did and just as excited to return the favor. He stopped a moment to kiss you, lifting your chin to let his lips meet yours before you both just smirked at each other and kept walking. The night was his. It was his playground and he was like an excited teen boy in love rather than a centuries old vampire so ready to show you his world. You didn't know how long you'd be human but not long. You were too enraptured with him, with the night that how could you not?
For now, he lifted you up with the strength of a superhuman as he rushed with you to the nearest motel. Both of you laughing and in love and needed to touch and get as much lust out as possible.
66 notes · View notes
calico-heart · 2 months ago
Text
17. Sally
"Come now, I'lyrha, you cannot mean to tell me that in addition to dogs, sirens, ghosts, ghouls, voidsent, bananas, and witches," here X'rhun pinched the bridge of his nose, "you maintain a crippling fear of goats?"
Arms crossed, she leaned stubbornly against the stone wall behind her and pouted with pinned ears. "You would too if ye'd ever seen deir eyes twist sideways." She twirled a finger. "It's not natural."
"Is that the sum of it? You surely realize that your eyes do the very same?" He replied flatly, tail twitching. "Only as your pupils are vertically aligned, 'tis not so obvious when it happens."
"No." She spat. "One, tat ain't remotely te same. And two - tat's not te sumofit, ye gobshite. They's also voidsent in disguise, more often 'en not. An' I've seen 'em eat rats, so all 'at talk about 'em bein' 'armless plant-munchers is bollox. Ye can't trust a feckin' goat. I'm not goin'."
He grimaced. "You needn't trust the goats, I'lyrha. You need only sally forth with the fine shepherd boy here who, I must point out, has not yet been possessed, maimed, or otherwise inconvenienced by his livestock."
"No."
Scowl deepening, X'rhun huffed, "When you took the Red—"
"Ye said notin' about dealin' wit' devils an' curses at the time, an' I'm inclined t'consider that a deliberate an' malicious omittance on yer part, given' how fuckin' often we seem t'be required te assist folk in matters o' te dark arts."
"Rhalgr's red fist, I'lyrha, but you make me feel twice my age." He groaned, bracing his forehead with a splayed palm. "They are only goats."
"You escort 'im, then, an' let me do the sneakin' an' ambushin' bit." She snapped.
"Truly? You'd prefer certain confrontation with eight armed men over a casual stroll with a few heretofore utterly harmless ungulates?"
"Heretofore." She emphasized, nodding. "'Least wit the bandits ye know what te expect. Goats 'ave all manner o' trickery up teir sleeves. Ye don't find it even a little suspicious these mountain folk want te heckle a flock 'o poor farmers all outta te blue like this?"
"I can think of several compelling reasons it might be so, none of which have anything to do with voidsent. Believing it to be the work of devils disguised as goats requires such rampant speculation and, dare I say, paranoia, as to be beyond consideration."
"An' ye don't think the goats are countin' on that?"
"No. I do not." X'rhun blinked. Stared at her, hard.
She stared back, fur fluffing.
Realizing this was not an argument to be won, X'rhun heaved a sigh. "Very well, I'lyrha. We'll trade roles. And perhaps seeing which one of us ends up with more bruises to show for it at the end of this endeavor will apprise you the foolishness of your stubborn superstition, as my reason alone clearly cannot."
"Yeah." She scoffed, giving the billy watching them from the nearby hill a scathing glare. "We'll certainly see, Red Britches."
(FFxivWrite 2024 - Prompt 17)
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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 year ago
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Hi!! It's been a while 💗 This isn't a request, since I know they're closed, just something I want you to give your thoughts on pretty please. How do you think Tan wiould react to seeing his girl having a breakdown, trying to calm herself down but she can't, she's crying and finding it hard to breathe and talk. How do you think he'll feel when he sees her like this and what would he do to calm her down?
This is totally not because I had a breakdown last night haha. Anyway, I hope you're doing well baby! 💺 anon
hii!! yes it’s been a long time, sorry just not been feeling it lately. this is kind of a drabble but not formatted properly, just a collection of my ideas in a sort of flow, if that makes sense😭 gonna be referring as you, just bc it’s easier and a habit
firstly, I think he knows you so well. like he knows all the tell tell signs, knows you better than you know yourself kinda thing. so I think he knows what’s about to happen before they do. he notices you act a little more withdrawn or a little more irritable, but he doesn’t push the matter, he waits and keeps an eye out. or alternatively, you could hide the beginning part really well and he wouldn’t notice (seeing as you’re acting like your usual self)
I think he’d be very gentle and quiet with you, he’s not great with other people but he is with you- he knows what to say and when to say it (as best as one could anyway)
he notices your leg bounce and fingers fidget, and then he’d very slowly approach you. if you were sat at the edge of the bed or sofa, he’d kneel on the floor between your feet (idc how much I say it, I love when men kneel for their girl!!!) he’d be careful as not to distress you more. he’d take your hand, and hold it tightly between his two. “hey,” he’d say, very warm and empathetic. “what’s goin’ on, love?” he’d ask, craning his neck to force you to face him.
if you couldn’t speak, you’d shake your head, bottom lip quivering. maybe you’d stretch out the neck of what you were wearing, kinda pulling it away from your skin as if it would help you breathe better. but it doesn’t really work, and you get increasingly more flustered and cry a little harder, possibly struggle to even your breathing.
maybe you’d pull your hand away from his and cover your arms around your head, like you’re trying to quieten your brain. tan doesn’t say anything, he just has a heartbreakingly sympathetic look on his face (he just hates seeing his girl so sad) his lips would be downturned, brows knit together and ears pulled back, sad eyes watching you. he doesn’t know what he should do or how to help, so he rubs calming and soothing circles on your knee, trying to distract from yourself and thoughts.
I feel like he’d kneel a little higher so he was in height with you, and would wrap his arms around your head, holding you to his chest. he’d brush over the back of your head, or through your hair (depending on hair type) he’d stroke down your back, and softly hum, again trying to distract you.
if you pull away, he doesn’t get upset, he understands. he’d cup your cheeks, holding your face in his hands, and kinda force you to meet his eye line. he’d dart over your face, scanning it (kinda like what he does to lem after ladybug fight. like he’s assessing you) he’d wipe your tears with his thumb and caress the apple of your cheek. he’d reassure you and help get your breathing back to normal, nodding you along and counting down when you should inhale and exhale. soft twitches of his stache when he notices you make progress
once you’re calm, or calmer. he’d sit down beside you, and pull you to him. you’d be sat in his lap sideways hugged into him (idk if you’ve seen it, but that clip of leonardo dicaprio and amy adams hug from a movie- idk what one, i remember seeing an edit) but anyway kinda like that. he’d been leaning against the sofa or headboard and silently comfort you. I think he struggles with words, so he shows you he care with actions (actions speak louder than words kinda thing)
he wouldn’t let go until you felt better, or unless you pulled away. he wouldn’t force words out of you, although he really wants to- he just wants to know what’s got his sweet girl so upset.
he’d help take your mind off it after- food, a drink, movie, bath, a game- anything you wanted.
ngl, I kinda wrote this for myself too😭 but im sorry baby, hope this was of some help to you <33 hope you’re well, and sending lots of love💗 also I finally watched bullet train again the other day- been meaning to for MONTHS !!
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nothingxs · 2 months ago
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FFXIV Write // Sally
"Heah!"
The carriage was going as fast as it could, its cargo shaking heavily in the back as the wheels strained and jostled against the uneven ground. The robed woman stayed in the back, her cowl pulled down and obscuring her head. She turned just so, look out to the back.
Celica was perched on the back lip, reaching for another arrow from an unfolded pack on the side as she looked about, still clutching a bow. Another pair of arrows whizzed past the carriage and she nocked her own, aimed haphazardly, and let it loose. And then the carriage hit a branch, and she hung on where she could, scowling.
"They're still gainin' on us—fuck! So long as the 'bos can keep goin'…" As if on cue, the choked, curdling noise of a chocobo meeting its end by an arrow through the neck resonated, and the carriage careened off to the side as its body went under the wheels and sent it briefly sideways before landing somehow still upright, though several wheels had been smashed. The driver had been thrown backwards into the cart itself. Celica managed to mostly keep herself upright, but was now relying on the cover offered by the cart to obscure her. She grit her teeth and reached down for her old, trusty greatsword.
"Swordswoman, a moment."
The woman in the robes turned her head to Celica, and pulled her hood back. A Xaela woman, fair-skinned, with hair of a curious, deep royal purple hue, and horns that were /just/ tinted in a similar manner. Her eyes were piercing and sat in pools of black, making the rings in them all the more apparent.
"You intend to face them alone." Her tone was matter-of-fact, but not accusatory.
Celica raised her eyebrows. "Well, if we want any chance of walkin' away, someone's at least goin' to have t' talk to them."
"From the arrows I have seen and the region we find ourselves in, I gather that they are Couerlclaw. I am told there is no negotiation with them that does not end in death or chains. You would speak to them, knowing this?" The woman tilted her head just so.
"…No, not personally. I was gonna let this one do most of the chatter," she said, her head motioning towards the blade that was now slung over her shoulder.
"Then I suppose additional negotiators would not be unwelcome." She rose to her feet, looking now over to Celica, picking up a long staff that had been resting in a corner among several other satchels and packages. She held the staff less like a staff, and more like a spear.
Celica's eyebrows both rose. "…Well, th' more th' merrier," said deadpan before she turned to the driver and took a more serious tone. "Stay under cover," direct instructions. She turned to the Xaela. "Conjurer?"
"In training."
"Good enough for me. You can make a distraction?"
"More than one."
"Just th' one. When you finish, we run into the brush on th' side and get into th' thick to cut angles." She dug around the caravan and pulled out a shield, which looked a bit mismatched given the massive sword. "You're with me; we'll have a better chance if we can watch each other's backs."
"Very well." She moved to get under cover of the caravan and prepared her staff, which she now more properly held like one.
"…You've got a name, lass?"
"Renny, by any spelling." Renny's voice remained at an even keel, calm. Almost chilling.
"…Right," she said, chuckling in a small bit of disbelief. "Well, we go when you start us off."
The staff was brought up, and as they heard the footsteps of one of the bandits slowly approach, Renny began her incantation.
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sheena-is-a-punk-rocker · 1 year ago
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Quinnflag snippet #4
The first of the "TSS but Rick and Harley are already dating series! This one came together really quickly and I'm very happy about it.
Harley perks up and puts her book down when she hears footsteps coming towards her—she'd know the sound of those combat boots anywhere. She grins as Rick appears outside her cell and gets up off her cot to greet him. “Hiya, Ricky!”
He chuckles at the nickname that he insists he hates (but never stops her from using) and tells her, “You're up, Quinn.”
“Oooh, where're we goin'? Somewhere exotic?”
“Not sure I'd call a South American dictatorship exotic but sure,” he says, as he unlocks her cell. He continues to brief her on the mission as he leads her through the maze of hallways in Belle Reve—not towards the exit, she notes with a smirk.
He eventually pulls her into a deserted corner in the blind spot of two security cameras in the hallway and pulls her close. “And, before I forget, still need to do this,” he says, before kissing her gently.
She kisses back eagerly and snakes her arms around his neck to pull him closer. She has to resist the urge to jump up and hitch her legs around his waist.
The kiss ends all too soon and he rests his forehead against hers with a sigh. “I gotta go,” he says regretfully. “Need to brief the rest of the team.”
“Aww, so soon?” she pouts.
He chuckles and kisses her forehead. “Stay safe out there, Harls. I'll see you at the chopper.”
She slaps his ass as he walks away and cackles when he jumps.
Little do either one of them know that shit's about to go sideways in less than six hours.
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vital-spirit · 6 months ago
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OFFSCREEN POST
The Missing Scraggy: Part Four
The group of three come to a halt in a small clearing of blue tinted stone, Bingo’s nose twitching, the scent grew stronger and more potent as they traveled through the Mystery Dungeon but nothing like the typhoon of scent that seemed to be down the path ahead. They were close now.
“They’re up ahead,” the Lillipup stated, her head reeling slightly from the swirling scents, “Not too much farther now.”
“A’ight.” Scrafty let out a breath and cracked his knuckles, preparing himself for an inevitable oncoming fight. He pulled his hood over his face and cast a sideways glance at the others. “How’re we doin’, gang?”
Lucario bounced on his feet, stretching out his arms, but didn’t say anything in response, prepared for a fight. 
Bingo shook herself, attempting to shake away the feeling of anxiety crawling beneath her coat, “I’m doin’ alright,” she answered as she looked toward Scrafty.
“Good,” he nodded at her. He reached into his pockets and pulled out two curved knives, sticking one finger into the loops at the end while he held the grip with his other two. Looking down at the small Lillipup, he reassured her, “Hey, it’s a’ight to be scared.”
“I know,” she deadpanned, tilting her head at the older Pokemon, “Scrafty. I may be scared but I’m still goin’ to help. If I let every instance of me bein’ afraid stop me from doin’ something than Mister Lucario wouldn’t have found me half-dead in that desert.” The Lillipup stated before bluntly adding, “I was out there for days. I’d have been dead the day I woke up out there if I let fear stop me from doin’ something.”
At this, Scrafty chuckled. “Neva’ said it would.” Twirling the knives in his hands, he gave her a grin and said, “Let’s do it scared.”
“Let’s do it scared.” She repeated with a nod.
Lucario looks at them both before sighing. “Let’s do it scared. Let’s go,” he pushes past them to walk ahead of the group. 
The Lillipup scampered after him, staying close as they headed down the path and the scent of sweet smokey venom grew stronger and stronger with each step. Any moment now they would be face to face with the kidnappers. Any moment now they will find Tyson.
Bingo swallowed as they walked into what seemed to be a larger clearing, rocks jutting out from odd angles from the earth and jagged canyon walls. 
That wasn’t all there was in this clearing though.
Four dark figures stood about the clearing, one standing over a tied-up shiny Scraggy trying to wriggle his way to freedom.
Bingo narrowed her gaze. Four Salandits.
Their attention snapped towards the newcomers, their eyes watchful and their smiles dripping with malice.
Lucario took a step forward, paw reaching for his gun, before one of the Salandits skittered forward and stood up on it’s hindlegs. 
With a hiss, it begins to speak. “One wrong step, and the kid’s getting poison gassed!” 
Scrafty stopped in his tracks, narrowing his eyes at the Salandit. “Whaddaya want?”
The Lillipup peeked around the older Pokemon, frowning at the scene before her. This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good at all.
The Salandit narrows its eyes back. “One million Poké if you want the kid back!” 
“Aw, c’mon!” Tyson whined at them. “I’m not even worth that much!”
Bingo grimaced before mumbling, “I don’t think that amount is even feasibly possible.” She took a tiny step forwards as she spoke up, “Is there anything else we could give ya’ instead?”
The Salandit taps it’s finger against it’s chin as if it’s deep in thought before looking at Bingo. “No!” 
Well, that’s not very helpful. She took another step forward, angling her head to side-eye the Salandit, “Are ya’ sure? This could be over a lot quicker if you just worked with us a little bit on this.”
All three Salandits burst into laughter. The leading Salandit even pretends to wipe a tear from their eye. “You think this is about speed? We’re willin’ to wait until the end of time, little miss! Or at least until Miss Boss Lady shows up and we can get to the real fun part.” The Salandit’s eyes move to look at Tyson. 
Bingo narrowed her eyes, taking one more step forward as she asked, “And what do ya’ mean by that?”
“I can show you if you’d like,” The Salandit says with a smile, reaching for it’s gun with practiced speed before Bingo can even react. Its fingers barely manage to brush the handle when— 
BANG!
Part Four: Scene End.
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nicotine-noah · 1 year ago
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closed starter for @kresnikxkaden
It had started so well. Hell, it had even been fun for a while. One of the masters had rented Noah and instead of taking him to his suite at the castle they'd gone into town. That was different enough for Noah to appreciate in and of itself since he rarely found himself in town or getting to go there. Just the drive down was pretty nice, getting to look out the window and see everything since the master didn't seem interested in doing anything in the car. They'd gotten into town and the master's big, beautiful house and even the next couple hours had gone more or less according to plan. Admittedly, there was a little more pain than Noah would've liked since clearly this vampire had a sadistic bend to him but Noah had still gotten bitten and fucked so all good. He was a little roughed up afterwards but nothing he couldn't handle and figured he'd get taken back up to the Castle, looking forward again to the drive up.
That's when things had started to go sideways.
Instead of being finished with him, this asshole tied a rope to Noah's collar and decided to walk him around town like he was some sort of dog. He didn't appreciate that very much but humiliation came with being a slave sometimes so he rolled with it. He wasn't allowed to wear a shirt, either, but that bugged him least of all. The walk would have been fine but any time Noah tried to say anything, even if it was just a random comment, the vampire hit him. And not just a gentle tap, either, the first time he'd fully backhanded him across the face. That's when Noah got pissed. Not caring about consequences, he started to goad the vampire, dodging his hits as best he could, and would probably have physically fought back until the guy decided he needed to be publicly disciplined. So he'd dragged Noah to the park, tied him to a tree, and beat the shit out of him. Not exactly new territory for Noah but before he hadn't had a collar and his natural healing ability had been able to kick in. Not this time.
Noah must have blacked out because when he came to next, he was still tied to the tree but it was dark now. One of his eyes was swollen shut and he tensed immediately for more blows but it didn't seem like the vampire was still there. He couldn't see much and probably looked a mess but there seemed to be a small crowd around him, flashing blue and red lights nearby, and he lifted his head with some difficulty.
"The fuck's goin' on?" He mumbled, wincing because it hurt to talk. Damn. He hadn't felt this rough since...well, anyway. He hoped someone untied him from this tree soon. Feebly, he tried to pull at the restraints but it didn't do much good.
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rosetintedgunman · 9 months ago
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February 14th
It was a very busy evening at the Moonlight Roller. Many couples had decided to choose the venue as their date night. And why wouldn't they? Those who favoured the cheesy holiday would be rewarded with bright, heart-shaped decorations, special deals that were literally too good to be true, and plenty of activities to encourage a good night out.
Except... Wilford wasn't anywhere to be found.
That was rather unusual. After all, wasn't this a holiday that was made just for him? It seemed someone else had drawn this conclusion - the person whose home he had crashed.
Dante was not one to observe Valentine's Day, but it was one of the rare times he allowed himself to indulge in a simple pleasure from his human life and read a romance novel on the couch. Wilford was on the floor, one hand holding a joke book in the air as he debated on whether he wanted to read it.
It was... surprisingly peaceful, taking the reporter's eccentricity into account. In fact, it took some time before Dante realised something rather important:
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It was a good question, and one that Wilford didn't immediately answer. Instead, he placed the book on his lap and slumped against the piece of furniture.
"I don't think I'm th' expert of love I always claim ta be." Wilford leaned his head back until it lightly pressed against the arm of the couch. "I mean... I know I cared fer Celine an' all, but that love was fake since she didn't love me back. I was just an escape."
-
Dante hummed, closing his book to give his friend attention. "This isn't like you. Normally you'd redirect your attention to your love of your friends."
"True, but I can't really have friends hangin' in a date night zone tonight, can I?"
"I doubt it would be a helpful night to find someone single."
"Nah. With how things have been fer me, it's th' best time ta find that lover, or somethin'. My days are in order, I've barely fallen into other times, an' I'm on a good no-kill streak. I'm practically safe as a baby! But...." The humour in his voice disappeared, leaving a sense of deflation behind. "It's almost as though me bein' like this makes me feel like I gotta keep an eye out an' protect th' chickies."
"The... 'chickies'?"
"Yeah! All th' younger folks goin' through th' loops!"
"I don't think you need to worry about 'age difference' between us and adults of consenting age when those of our fate are unable to feel the progression of time in the same way."
Wilford put his book down so he could roll sideways until he was kneeling against the side of the couch. "What if they think I'm old an' not hot?"
The entity quirked an eyebrow. "You sound ridiculous right now."
"What if I'm losin' my hotness radar an' I can't find anyone of my type 'cause I dunno what that is anymore??" Truly, what a rotten fate!!
Unfortunately, Dante was not the person to lament to. "You act like I know the answer to your problems."
"Yeah. Yer smart."
"But about a matter such as love? I grew up in a loveless family and died a bachelor. I'm not a fountain of knowledge."
Wilford slumped forward until his chin bumped against the couch. "Yeah, I 'spose... I'll get all that figured out in time." That appeared to be the end of it, as his eyes half-focused on one of the back cushions. "Ya think I ever found love in between then and now?"
Dante didn't know the answer. However, he had to give some sort of response.
"Romantically? I think you did. I'm sure you'll remember something about it that will help you remember your 'date skills'."
Wilford chuckled, moving his gaze to Dante. "Yer a good friend, y'know that? I'm gonna help ya find a date. Least I can do." Wilford's offer did not go down well.
"I can barely tolerate myself most days. I won't subject anyone else to do likewise."
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