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creatur3featur3 · 2 days ago

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Street Rat p2

word count: 3.6k (WOO ON A ROLL LOVES!!)

A/N: DEFINITELY out of my writers block! only took about, 3 hours? usually takes me like a full day when i'm unmotivated but here we are!

----Enjoy Loves----

Okay so maybe you were following Sevika around for weeks on end now, but it wasn't exactly your fault- it was hers.

All that being nice and giving you food, or just being human and providing for someone who obviously couldn't take care of herself properly. She had been dying to get you off her tail with you following her like a stray dog constantly, you were ruining her reputation with your weird attachment to her.

The regulars she played cards with gave you weird glances but she always seemed to scare them off from bothering you when you were digging around in people's dumped junk with a stern gaze. You definitely seemed to live up to your name of a street rat with your constant wandering off to find someone that shined under the dim lights of the Undercity’s lamp posts, she had even gotten you a small bag as well which had honestly surprised you.

You scoffed when she threw it to you, “Are you serious? I don't need this shit.” you spat sharply, god she wished she could rip that sharp tongue out of yours out of your mouth. She set down her cup, whatever liquid she was drinking sloushing out.

“You think I don't see you storing your little trinkets out in dumped boxes? You're pathetic, the amount of times I've seen people swipe from your little stashes is ridiculous.” Your brow furrows at her words, you're not pathetic, you're smart, hell- brilliant even! “WELL, Miss.im so smart, i'll have you know I have many stashes around the city,”

“and how many of them stay full?”

you pause.

“...like.. three maybe…” you admit with a pout, “Then take the bag” she says sternly.

You grumble as you snatch the bag off the table, examining it with cold eyes but muttering a quiet “thank you” under your breath- then you're gone.

You choose not to stick around her during the day, too many eyes, you stay on the outskirts of the city- just like today.

you squirm up the broken fire escape, trying your best to host yourself up with- little success. You hate to admit that Sevika’s ‘gift’ was actually pretty helpful, much more storage for cogs and other useful stuff- only downside is that you put way too much stuff in it.

“come on!-" You hiss under your breath as you hang onto the railing, trying to throw the bag up onto the floor of the fire escape so you can get yourself up. Such you were fit, your worked out a good amount, but.. your weren't exactly sure what to really work out.

The bag thudded onto the rusty fire escape with a loud clang, the sound echoing down the alleyway below. You winced, glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one had heard. The last thing you needed was some nosy thug poking around while you were mid-scramble.

"Stupid bag," you muttered, wiping sweat off your brow. The thing had been helpful, sure, but damn if it wasn’t heavier than you thought it would be with all the “essentials” you’d crammed into it.

With a deep breath, you grabbed the edge of the fire escape again, gritting your teeth as you hoisted yourself up. Your muscles strained against the weight of your own body, your arms trembling as you kicked your legs to get some momentum. “Okay... almost there...”

Finally, with a groan, you managed to drag yourself up, collapsing onto the cold metal floor with a loud huff. You rolled onto your back, staring up at the dim, flickering lights of the Undercity’s skyline, panting like you’d just run a marathon.

“Maybe I should’ve worked out more…” you mumbled, glaring at the bag now sitting innocently beside you.

The memory of Sevika tossing it to you came to mind, her cold, stern gaze practically daring you to argue with her. She hadn’t been wrong about your stashes getting raided—half of them were basically public property at this point—but still, you’d never admit she had a point. That’d be giving her too much satisfaction.

As much as you hated to admit it, the bag was starting to feel like a lifeline. Not just because it kept your things safe, but because... well, it was from her.

You sighed, sitting up and brushing your hands off on your pants. “Whatever,” you muttered to yourself, swinging the bag over your shoulder again. “It’s just a stupid bag. Doesn’t mean anything.”

As you climb further up the ladders you find yourself at what you call, home. The climb had left your muscles burning, but as you finally pulled yourself up to the top platform, a sense of relief washed over you. This was your little corner of the world, tucked high above the chaos of the Undercity, where few dared to tread.

"Home sweet home," you muttered, glancing at the haphazard setup before you.

The patchwork of old carpets and threadbare blankets was hardly luxurious, and the wooden crates stacked into a leaning structure could barely be called stable. Still, it had its charm—if only because it was yours.

You ducked under the slanted “roof” of your makeshift tent, the faint smell of oil and dust filling your nose as you tossed the bag onto the ground with a loud thud. Sliding down onto the pile of blankets you called a bed, you let out a long, drawn-out exhale, the tension in your shoulders finally releasing.

After a few moments, you sat up, rolling your sleeves as you reached for the bag. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got this time,” you murmured to yourself, the habit of talking aloud in your solitude one you never quite managed to break.

One by one, you started pulling items from the bag: cogs, rusted bolts, wires tangled like a bird’s nest, a couple of scraps of metal that might be useful if you ever found a decent buyer. You laid them out in neat rows, sorting them with a critical eye.

“Junk, maybe useful, definitely junk, hmm… potential,” you muttered, setting aside a few pieces you deemed worth keeping.

Every so often, you paused to examine an item more closely, holding it up to the dim light filtering through the cracks of your tent. A faint smile tugged at your lips as you found a small, intact gear with its teeth still sharp. “Hah, not bad,” you said to no one, setting it aside with a sense of triumph.

This was your ritual, your little piece of order in an otherwise chaotic world. Sorting through the refuse of the Undercity, finding bits and pieces that others had discarded without a second thought—it wasn’t glamorous, but it was yours.

Your contented sorting came to an abrupt halt as the distant noise filtered up through the layers of steel and grime below. First, it was the sharp crack of something breaking—glass, maybe, or a chair being hurled against a wall. Then came the muffled yelling, too distorted by the distance to make out the words.

You froze, your fingers hovering over a twisted wire. It wasn’t unusual to hear fights in the Undercity; hell, it was practically the soundtrack of the place. But this time was different.

This time, you recognized the low, gravelly tone of one of the voices. Sevika.

Your stomach twisted as you strained to listen, hoping you’d misheard. But there it was again—her voice, cutting through the chaos with a sharp bark of anger.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, scrambling to your feet. For a moment, you hesitated, torn between staying put in the safety of your little hideout and the nagging pull of curiosity—and maybe worry—that pushed you toward the ladder.

Another crash, louder this time, made the decision for you. You grabbed the strap of your bag, slinging it over your shoulder as you moved toward the edge of the platform. Your heart pounded as you carefully climbed down, your usual annoyance at the shaky fire escape forgotten in your rush.

By the time you reached the lower levels, the noise had grown louder, more distinct. You crept closer, ducking behind a stack of crates as you peered around the corner.

There she was, Sevika, in the middle of a small brawl. Three guys, maybe more, circled her like vultures, but she looked as unfazed as ever, her mechanical arm gleaming under the dim light as she sent one of them flying with a single swing.

Your first instinct was to turn back, let her handle it. She was Sevika, after all; she didn’t need help. But as another thug lunged at her with a broken pipe, something in you snapped.

“Damn it,” you hissed, gripping the edge of the crate as you tried to come up with a plan. Or maybe you’d just jump in and wing it. Either way, you weren’t about to leave her hanging.

Though your- stupidity gets the best of you as you reach for a broken glass of whatever and throw it at one of the men, hitting his head

The moment the glass shattered against the man’s head, you felt a rush of pride. Bullseye. But that fleeting sense of accomplishment was quickly replaced with a cold, sinking feeling as the three men turned toward you, their expressions darkening like storm clouds.

He wiped a hand over his face, now dripping with blood from a jagged cut the glass had left, his glare locking onto you like a predator sizing up its prey. “You’ve got a death wish, kid,” he growled, taking a menacing step forward.

“Oh, crap,” you muttered, your bravado evaporating in an instant.

Without another thought, you turned on your heel and bolted, your heart pounding in your ears as your boots slapped against the slick pavement. Behind you, the sound of shouts and heavy footsteps echoed as the men gave chase.

“Stupid stupid stupid!!” you hissed to yourself, dodging around a stack of broken crates. This wasn’t exactly the first time your mouth—or in this case, your impulse to throw things—had gotten you into trouble, but this? This was a new level of stupid.

You ducked into a narrow alley, squeezing through the gap between two rusted pipes as the men shouted behind you. Your pulse was racing, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you scanned the area for an escape route.

Up ahead, you spotted a ladder leading to one of the upper platforms, the kind you’d climbed a hundred times before. “Come on, come on,” you whispered, practically leaping toward it.

As you grabbed the rungs and started to climb, one of the men reached the base of the ladder, cursing loudly. He jumped, his fingers grazing your ankle, but you kicked out with a frantic yell, forcing him to let go.

“Keep running, street rat!” one of them yelled.

“Oh, I plan to!” you shouted back, your voice dripping with sarcasm despite the panic clawing at your chest.

You scrambled onto the platform above, your legs burning and your breath coming in ragged gasps. From this vantage point, you could see Sevika below, taking advantage of your little distraction you created. For a split second, you thought about doubling back to help her, but another shout from below reminded you of your own predicament.

"She better appreciate this," you muttered bitterly as you darted off into the shadows, praying you could lose your pursuers before they decided to make good on their threats.

–

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Sevika snarled as you sat next to her at the little market you had come to know for your routine feeding, “those guys could've and would've killed you!” She hissed.

“I was helping!” you grumble, “Helping doesn't mean almost getting yourself killed!” Sevika shot right back.

“You should've been able to take those guys easily, they were so much smaller than you!”

“I had it.”

“Didn't seem like it Toolbox.”

“Stop calling me that,”

“Toolbox.”

“Street Rat.”

“Mines cooler anyways.” you hum, Sevika scoffs with a shake of her head, “You fucking wish.”

“Well,” you start, shoving the fruit you had stuffed in your bag into your mouth, biting into it sharply, the juices running down your chin- “I deserve a thank you.”

“You are not getting a thank you for making me worry,” Sevika spat, “awww, so you do care!” you hum sarcastically, “oh, my heart might just explode with joy!”

Sevika rolled her eyes so hard you were surprised they didn’t pop out of her skull. “Don’t flatter yourself Rat. I care because you’re a liability. If you go and get yourself killed, that’s just one more mess I have to deal with.”

You snorted, chewing noisily on your fruit. “Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that, Sevvy.”

Her glare could have melted steel. “Call me that again and see what happens.”

“Sevvy.” You said it sweetly, almost a purr, batting your lashes for extra effect.

The mechanical fingers of her arm clenched with a faint hiss, and you couldn’t help but grin, even as she loomed closer, her presence casting a shadow over you. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” she growled, voice low and dangerous.

“And brains,” you added smugly, leaning back as if her looming didn’t faze you. “I mean, I did save your ass, remember?”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “If by ‘save’ you mean ‘made my life infinitely harder,’ then yeah. Thanks for that.”

You bit into your fruit again, savoring its sweetness as you shrugged. “Same difference. You’d miss me if I wasn’t around.”

“I’d sleep better, that’s for sure.”

“Awww, Sev, you’re so sweet,” you teased, wiping juice off your chin with your sleeve. “No wonder people love you so much.”

Her lips twitched, like she was fighting back a smirk. “You’re lucky you’re useful sometimes, Street Rat. Otherwise, I’d have tossed you into the gutter by now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, grinning despite her insult. “Admit it, Sevika. You like having me around.”

She shook her head, muttering something under her breath as she turned her attention back to her drink. You took that as a win, leaning back against the table with a satisfied smirk.

“So,” You hum as you throw the finished fruit onto the street, “Where we going now?”

Sevika stood up, pushing in her chair and throwing her cloak over her mechanical arm “I'm, going home.”

You frowned, tilting your head like a confused pup. “Home? What about me?”

Sevika glanced over her shoulder, her expression flat. “What about you?”

You scoffed, standing up and brushing the crumbs off your clothes. “I thought we were a team now.”

She barked a laugh, the kind that was more mocking than amused. “Team? Don’t flatter yourself, Toolbox. You’re just a stray I can’t seem to shake off.”

You put your hands on your hips, leaning forward as you shot her a challenging glare. “Stray or not, you’d be bored without me, and you know it.”

“Bored?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow as she adjusted her cloak. “More like finally at peace.”

“Sure, Sev, keep telling yourself that,” you quipped, falling into step beside her despite her best efforts to stride ahead.

She stopped abruptly, turning to face you with a sharp glare. “What do you want, huh? A place to crash? A warm meal? Or do you just like annoying me?”

You grinned, not missing a beat. “Little bit of all three, honestly.”

She exhaled sharply, clearly trying to rein in her irritation. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here we are,” you said with a cheeky shrug.

For a moment, Sevika just stared at you, her jaw tightening as if she were debating whether to knock you out or just walk away. Finally, she shook her head, muttering something about bad decisions as she turned back toward the street.

“Fine,” she said gruffly, not bothering to look back at you. “Follow me. But don’t think for a second this means I like you.”

Your grin widened as you fell into step behind her. “Of course not, Sevvy. This is purely professional.”

“Call me that again, and you’re sleeping in the gutter.”

“Love you too,” you teased, earning a sharp growl from her as the two of you disappeared into the crowded streets of the Undercity.

God she hated you.

As you follow her not too far behind she doesn't look back- until she hears a loud CLUNK.

She looked back to see you diving into a dumpster, your legs propelling yourself further into it.

Sevika stopped dead in her tracks, her mechanical arm twitching slightly as she turned to stare at you, her expression an unreadable mix of irritation and disbelief.

“What the hell are you doing now?” she called out, her voice carrying that sharp edge of exasperation she reserved just for you.

Your legs flailed for a moment, kicking at the air as you wormed your way further into the dumpster. “I saw something shiny!” you shouted back, your voice muffled by the metal container.

Sevika pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath. “Shiny? Are you a crow now?”

“Shut up, it might be important!” you countered, your voice ringing with mock indignation.

The dumpster rattled as you rummaged around, the sound grating on Sevika’s nerves. She glanced around, noting the amused—or horrified—looks from a few passersby. She sighed deeply, her patience wearing thin.

“You know,” she said, her tone flat as she leaned against a nearby wall, arms crossed, “there’s a fine line between being resourceful and being a complete idiot. Guess which side you’re on.”

You didn’t respond immediately, too engrossed in whatever treasure you were hunting. A moment later, you popped your head out of the dumpster, holding up a slightly dented but intact pocket watch. “See? Totally worth it!” you declared, grinning triumphantly.

Sevika raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “A broken watch?”

“It’s vintage!” you argued, shaking the watch for emphasis.

“Yeah, sure. Vintage trash,” she shot back, turning on her heel. “Let’s go, before someone mistakes you for actual garbage.”

You hopped out of the dumpster, brushing off your clothes as you jogged to catch up with her. “You’re just mad you didn’t see it first,” you teased, tucking the watch into your bag.

She didn’t respond, but you swore you saw her roll her eyes as she picked up her pace, trying her best to ignore you.

But your voice was grating, the way you chatted away about god knows what, trying to take apart the watch as you walked, proving to Sevika by the brand name on the inside of the watch that it was definitely worth something.

“See? I told you, I know what's useless or, worthy!” You hum happily.

you were definitely a lot different from when Sevika first saw you, when you were a lot more sharp and,I guess hateful. Now here you are, talking her ear off about some history behind the watch.

Cute.

Sevika shook her head firmly, no, absolutely not, you were not cute or anything like that, you were a dingy kid from the streets, probably not even 26, you had your whole life ahead of you.

Sevika’s gaze flickered over to you as you babbled on about the intricate history behind the watch, your hands working quickly to twist and turn its parts, barely looking up as you walked beside her.

“Mm-hmm, sure, sure,” she muttered, her focus on the path ahead, though her mind was starting to wander despite herself. You were relentless, a flurry of words and energy that kept bouncing from one topic to the next, your excitement practically buzzing through the air. It was almost impossible not to listen to you, even if she didn’t want to.

But cute? No.

You were just some kid, a street rat, sure, but not in a pathetic sense anymore. She couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Maybe it was how you had this endless drive to find the value in everything, even when it was so easy for someone like her to overlook. Or how your once sharp edges seemed to have softened over time, the constant biting sarcasm now replaced with, well, an actual willingness to communicate, to engage.

God, what the hell was wrong with her?

She tried shaking it off, focusing on the weight of her boots as they hit the cracked pavement. She was not about to get all sentimental or soft. That would be a mistake.

“I’m serious, Sevika,” you continued, eyes sparkling as you looked up at her, “I could sell this for a few cogs. It’s pretty rare, maybe even more than that if I find the right buyer!”

She made a noncommittal sound in her throat, but inside, something shifted just a bit. You really are something else, she thought.

Her mind screamed at her to pull away, to put some distance between herself and you before she made a mistake, but here she was, still walking beside you, letting you prattle on and on.

“Yeah, whatever, just don’t go blowing it on something stupid,” she muttered, though there was a flicker of something in her voice that she quickly smothered.

You gave her a sidelong glance, not missing the subtle change. “You really do care, huh?”

She didn’t answer, instead pushing her shoulders back and picking up the pace, determined to ignore the way her heart seemed to tighten. She could still feel the eyes of the people around you—at least, that’s what she told herself.

But maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t just about saving you from getting yourself killed anymore. Maybe... she was just stuck with you, whether she liked it or not.

“Keep dreaming, kid,” she said gruffly, her voice betraying none of the warmth creeping up her spine.

“Aw, you're soft, Sev," you teased, and she felt her chest tighten even more.

"Shut up, Streetie," she snapped, the words coming out far too fondly for her liking.

“Streetie? that's a new one,” you giggle slightly, seeming to notice before you cleared your throat.

(turned it into a series :) p3 is out now!)

#fanfic #queer #sevika x reader #street rat sevika fic #sevika #sevika arcane #lesbians make the world go round #i'm crying i love them #Spotify

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insomniadreamzz · 15 hours ago

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How about more sub!Jinx x dom!reader? Like, maybe make her sit on reader's strap for long as punishment? Or make her ride the strap while recording it (for personal use ofc)? Or both :D

Do as I say

Sub!Jinx x dom Fem!Reader smut

„Hmpf…please…“ You hear her whimper as she sat on your strap for a long time now, you knew exactly how torturing it was but you didn’t even think about to give her the release she needed. Jinx was being a brat all day and all you wakted to do was punish her for that tonight.

You smacked her ass once she shifted on you, gaining a whine from her as her grip on your shoulders tighten. „I said no moving.“ You said, focused on your phone as you both sat on the bed, ignoring her begging. „I-I can’t anymore please…“

Her begging was like music to your ears, her soft shaky voice turning you on. „No baby I know you can last a little longer than that.“ You gripped her hips, keeping her still. „Or are you this weak?“ You whisper into her ear, sending shivers through her body. „Mhhh…I am weak for you. Pretty please I need you to fuck me.“ She kept on begging, biting down on her own lower lip. She didn’t dare to move again, her ass already being red because of your spanking every time she moved just a little.

„C-Can I at least kiss you?“ She cooed, feeling tortured. First you wanted to say no but when you looked into her eyes, seeing that weak needy expression of hers, you couldn’t take it anymore and crashed your lips on hers, kissing her deeply, making her whimper as you slipped your tongue inside of her mouth, dominating the kiss.

„Fuck…You’re so needy for me aren’t you?“ You teased her, smirking into the kiss. „Y-Yes…yes please! I am gonna be a good needy girl for you just please-…ah!“ You cut her off by thrusting your hips up inside of her, making the strap rub her insides as you reached your limit as well. All you wanted to do was make her scream and cum for you.

„Then be a good girl for me and ride my strap.“ You whisper close to her ear before laying down, your phone still in your hands before placing it on the bed so the camera was capturing her. „W-What are you doing?“ Jinx asked and you just grinned in return. „What does it look like? I want to capture this moment for me only.“ You answered but she didn’t care at this moment, trusting you enough that this will be only for your personal use. „Ugh…fuck it I need your strap.“ She groaned before finally bouncing on your strap, being so needy and dripping wet for you, she didn’t care at all, only needing to feel you.

„That’s my girl…“ You praised her, watching her beautiful needy expression as she rode your strap like crazy, loud moans and whines escaping her lips as she did so. She was already so close, being happy she could finally feel the pleasure.

„Hnn…look at me while you fuck me…I wanna see your beautiful expression.“ You commanded and she obeyed, her teary eyes looking at you, your hands resting on her hips as you helped her with her movements, bouncing harder and faster on your strap, getting closer to her orgasm.

„Ah yes…that’s it…your pretty cunt clenching all around my strap…good girl, cum for me.“ Your words drove her over the edge, making her moan out loudly as she reached her orgasm, legs shaking around you as she came hard, making you feel satisfied.

Jinx let herself collapse on top of you, panting heavily as her head rested on your chest. You place a kiss on her forehead, gently caressing her body as you want to help her calm down, cooing softly. „Good girl…“

(Sorry for the shortness 🥴)

#x reader #fanfiction #female reader #x fem!reader #short imagine #lgbtq #arcane #arcane fanfic #jinx #jinx x fem!reader #jinx x y/n #jinx smut #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #arcane smut #smut

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sea-lanterns · 23 hours ago

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*rises from the depths of hell in an extremely gay way*

Being in a poly relationship with Chiori and Chevreuse!!! (because I have two hands and two holes)

Going out eating with your two girlfriends and getting pampered by them 🥺🥺🥺 like Chiori helping you get ready so you don't look horrible on your dinner date and then Chevy occasionally sharing her food with you, and at one point you end up unintentionally reenacting that Lady and the tramp scene where you accidentally end up kissing each other by eating the same spaghetti noodle??

And if you were being too bratty you would end up getting handcuffed by Chevy and then pounded by her strap-on while Chiori fingers you 😵‍💫 (I just know her finger game is heavenly) and you can hear the cuffs jingling while your gfs wreck you 😳

(Idk if Chevy would top, this just popped into my mind and it wouldn't leave)

- 🐊 anon, who has lived another day and will make it everyone's problem

CW: Poly relationship, pyro strap one, fingering, slight spanking, threesome

A poly relationship with Chiori and Chevreuse is very interesting. You have your very sharp tongued, quick witted girlfriend Chiori, and you have your equally as strict, but still a bit lenient girlfriend Chevreuse who treats the two of you as her ladies and considers herself the “gentlewoman” of the relationship. Nevertheless, both are the doms when it comes to you, with Chevreuse more focused on bringing you pleasure while Chiori is more focused on actually punishing you for what you did.

What exactly did you do? No idea. Only Chiori really knows tbh, as she’s the one blindfolding you in one of her satin fabrics and making you gag on Chevreuse’s strap. You’re drooling over Chevy’s warm, pyro-infused toy but unable to pull away as Chiori pushes your head down to continue bobbing your head. Chevreuse is extremely turned on, watching as you are situated in between her legs and trying so hard not to choke, all the while Chiori fingers your cute pussy and occasionally gives your clit a small spank.

Sex aside though, I think Chiori and Chevreuse would be quite the fun girlfriends to have. Chiori wears panties and Chevreuse wears boxers, so I think it would be fun if after waking up from a long night of sex, you grab the first underwear you see and it’s either Chiori or Chevreuse. They both silently compete with each other to see whose underwear you grab in the morning, playfully chastising each other when you pick the one that belongs to them.

Also Chiori and Chevreuse are heavily protective over you. They most definitely have body slammed someone or threw someone out the window for you, and even though Chevreuse is a law enforcer whose job is to restrict violence, she lets whatever Chiori does slide. It’s to protect you after all, Chevy would shoot someone in the face for you 😅

#🫧feeding the fishes #🐊 anon #chiori smut #chevreuse smut

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selfloverrrrrr · 2 days ago

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Lust~(part-2)

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physically and emotional abuse, biting, torture, size difference, threesom....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's POV

Next morning when I woke up it was too early in the morning. Gojo was still sleeping beside me. Did I fall asleep after that last night? Fuck....I should sneak out quietly. I slowly pushed off his hand from top of me making sure he's not awake. Then took my clothes put it on and run away.

I went to school with a scarf around my neck. I was wishing while walking through the corridor that I wouldn't meet Gojo. But happened exactly what I didn't wanted. A hand wrapped around my neck. "Why did you sneak in the morning?" He asked. I almost jumped from the sudden voice.

I didn't reply and continued walking. "Awwww ignoring me even after being my whore for last night?" He asked. I looked around with a terrified expression checking that nobody heard it. "And I told you not to cover your neck... didn't I?" He asked and was about to pull the scarf. I grabbed his hand.

"Gojo please..." I said. He smirked. "Finally spoke?....fine sweetheart. After all I should fulfill my GIRLFRIEND'S wishes" he said and winked at me. Then went away from there. Almost a week passed. Gojo was out of town. Today all of a sudden Geto came to me. "Hey y/n...I didn't saw you after that halloween party" he said.

"yeah.... it's been a long time" I replied. "Why did you leave there that night? I thought you were there but when I came back you weren't" he said. So that means Gojo was lying? Geto wasn't in his plan? I knew he was lying! Why would Geto?! He'd never! I knew it. "I'm sorry... I wasn't feeling well that night" I replied.

He closed the door and without saying anything he kissed me. Then looked at me. "You know..... you're so pretty. I never thought I was going to see anyone this pretty in our college" he said. then kissed me again. This time deep kiss. I kissed him back. As I kissed him back he picked me up and went towards his bedroom.

The kiss kept deepening and he fell on his back on the bed with me on his top. I chuckled. He sat up with me on his lap and rested his back on the headboard. "You're so handsome" I said rubbing my hand on his chest. "You think so?" He asked with a smirk. "I do" I replied.

"the way you're believing me.... didn't anyone warned you about me?" He asked. "Yes... Shoko did" I replied. "As I thought" he chuckled. "And what did she say?" He asked. "That you may seem so innocent but you are dangerous" I replied. "Yeah yeah..." He said and rolled his eyes. "She's not wrong though" he said and pulled me again in a kiss.

His lips on mine. Tongue thrusting inside my mouth, we both grinding on each other's crotch, with one of his hands he grabbed my hair, with another hand pushing me more on his crotch and with another hand grabbing my breast and squeezing it and another month on my neck? WAIT WAIT WAIT.... how's that even possible?!

I immediately pushed off and turned around my head and and and I regret it now. There's Gojo sitting with a smirk on his face. "What's the matter y/n? You look like you've seen a ghost" he said and leaned towards me. My heart felt like now it's gonna be out the way it's beating. My breath was almost stopped.

I turned my head at Geto again. And he has the exact same smirk on his face. "What? Didn't you said Shoko warned you about me? Should've listened to her" he said and they both laughed. What the hell is happening?! Why am I in this fucked up situation!!! "You know... Suguru wanted to have you too... and I believe in sharing is caring but what do I see here? Cheating on your boyfriend? Very very bad" Gojo whispered and pulled me on his lap.

"you're not my boyfriend...let me go.... you both can burn in hell" I said and went up. Geto grabbed me and pulled me again. "Look Satoru you made her hate me as well ..... I thought I won't have to force! " Geto said. "Ah you don't know her she's a bitch....I think maybe she likes when We force her?" Gojo said with a smirk. "No I don't!!! Let me fucking go!!!!" I screamed.

Gojo started caressing my inner thigh under my skirt and slide his hand inside my pantie and started rubbing my clit. I was about to stop him but Geto grabbed my another hand. "Didn't you said you want it...so what happened now?" Geto asked. Gojo started rubbing his crotch on my ass. "Gojo stoppp" I screamed. He started rubbing my clit more roughly. "But baby... your pussy is telling me not to stop... Suguru, she's wet as fuck" Gojo said and ripped off my pantie.

I tried to close my legs but Gojo grabbed both of my thighs and spread them. "Spread those legs wide, slut" Gojo whispered in my ear. Geto looked at my exposed pussy. I looked away with shame. "Damnn... We should fuck her then, Satoru" Geto said. "Of course" Gojo said with a smirk. Then there was I, on my fours. All of our clothes were on the floor. I'm begging them to stop the humiliation. Geto thrusting his dick in my mouth and Gojo in my pussy from back. I squeezed my eyes.

Tears flowing down. My mouth was wide open. Geto's dick inside my mouth takes the whole length slowly. It was too big. Geto's breath hitched. He threw his head back mouth wide open. He pulled my hair telling me to suck hard. I slowly sucked his dick and his legs shook. He bobbed my head up and down. His tip was poking the back of my throat. He grabbed my hair and started bobbing my head up and down faster. "Oh god...oh god.... don't...ahhhh... don't stop!!!!" Geto moaned out loudly. He was bobbing my head up and down faster and faster. He suddenly felt that Geto was close. In a few minutes he came inside my mouth. He grabbed my chin "Swallow it y/n" geto said squeezing my mouth which made me swallow. I squeezed my eyes shut and he forced me to swallow.

On the other hand Gojo was thrusting too roughly. He was slamming his whole dick inside me. I screamed. I was through my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he liked it so much. His thrust became harder and harder. I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight, Suguru this pussy might be the death of me!!!" he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I squeezed the bedsheet to control myself. With a few more thrust I came. He was still thrusting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. " Slut should fucking take what I'm giving her." He whimpered. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out.

Geto pulled me and made me sit on his lap. He touched my right boob with his hand and pinched the nipple. I whimpered. "She can take both of us together Suguru" Gojo said. "Can she?" Geto asked with a smirk. "Of course she can she said she'll do anything to help us" Gojo smirked back at Geto. "No no no....not again... please please please... not again" I cried out. Gojo's smirk widened and he crashed his mouth on my boob sucking harshly. I moaned loudly.

They both lined up with me. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " Gojo no no no... P-please no...Geto please s-stop" I begged but they didn't even listen to me and slammed their whole dick inside me in one slide. I screamed. They didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thrusting in and out roughly. It was too much...they both were big and thick....it was giving too much pain. I was through my legs with pain and begging them to stop. And they liked it so much. Their thrust became harder and harder. I clenched around them tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh.... f-fuck...it's so tight " Geto moaned. "Told you " Gojo said between moans and started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bit his shoulder and scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thrust I came. They were still thrusting roughly. I felt their cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength. They both moaned loudly. Within a minute they came inside me so I could feel their seed inside me. My vision blurred out.

They both pulled out. "Gotta say....you weren't wrong tho ...she feels like heaven" Geto said. "I know she does" Gojo replied and laughed loudly.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

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callmemonster68 · 2 days ago

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JUNGWON – God of Time ( smut )

He controls the flow of time and memories but finds himself drawn to the mortality of an intriguing human.

Pairing: Jungwon, a deity X FemReader

Genre: Obscenity

Warning: Contains explicit content, unprotected sex, suggestive, penetration, explicit language, climax, sex, swearing, loss of virginity, hickeys, messy make-out sessions, dirty talk, compliments, rough sex, touching bruises, handcuffs, chains, sadomasochism , masochism, brands

Note: I'm recently starting to write, and English is not my native language. I apologize for any mistakes and hope to improve my writing. Feedback is always welcome!

In a realm where time intertwines with the deepest desires, you find yourself before Jungwon, the God of Time—a being who controls moments and memories. His gaze is mesmerizing, and every word from his lips seems to shape the reality around you. The tension in the air is palpable, as if every second is charged with unspoken promises.

Y/N: "God of Time, why did you bring me here? What do you want from me?"

Jungwon: "Ah, my tempting Y/N, time is a game few know how to play. I brought you here to explore the limits of desire. What would you do if time was no longer a barrier?"

Y/N: "I... I would give myself to every moment, every touch. What do you offer me?"

Jungwon: "I offer you eternity in an instant. Feel how time dissolves when our bodies meet. Every touch, every breath—it’s an eternity in itself."

Y/N: "Then let’s savor every second. Let time stop while we are together."

Jungwon: "Yes, let us dance between moments, surrendering to burning passion. Let time bow to our desires."

---------- Small Time Skip ----------

Jungwon: "Y/N, I want to show you something."

S/N: "What is it, Jungwon, God of Time?"

Jungwon took her hand and led her to an isolated spot in the forest. He sat her down and began to caress her body, his fingers tracing the curves of her breasts and the softness of her thighs.

Jungwon: "Close your eyes, Y/N. Let me show you what it means to surrender to the power of time."

Y/N closed her eyes, and Jungwon began to manipulate time. He slowed it down, and Y/N felt every touch and every kiss as if they were happening in slow motion. Then he sped it up, and a wave of pleasure coursed through her as every sensation intensified.

Jungwon’s hands traveled down her body, and he began to kiss her neck, his tongue tracing the delicate curves of her skin. Y/N moaned, and Jungwon smiled, knowing he had her exactly where he wanted.

His hands moved lower, and he began to tease her breasts, his fingers playing with her nipples. Soon, his lips reached her hardened peak, and Jungwon began with soft kisses that quickly turned into messy licks and light bites. Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, and a wave of desire surged through her body.

Jungwon: "I’ll show you how thrilling it is to dance between moments."

Y/N’s mind was consumed by the sensations coursing through her. It felt as if time had stopped, leaving them as the only beings in existence.

Jungwon’s fingers found their way to Y/N’s core, and she moaned with pleasure, his face drawing closer to her intimacy. His lips hovered near her entrance, and a wave of pleasure surged through her as his tongue began to dance around her clit. Y/N let out a loud moan, quickly covering her blushing face with her hands in embarrassment.

Then, Jungwon penetrated her with two fingers, moving rapidly and skillfully, hitting her favorite spot and provoking spasms throughout her body. After just a few more thrusts, Y/N’s sticky walls clenched tightly around his fingers, and with a loud, intense moan, she came.

Jungwon looked into Y/N’s eyes, guiding his drenched fingers to his own mouth. He licked them clean, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. He delighted in provoking her and causing an overwhelming mix of sensations.

Jungwon: "Now you’re ready."

Jungwon smiled and leaned in to kiss her deeply. He could feel the heat between them, and he knew they were both ready for what would come next. He pulled her on top of him, caressing her soft skin with his hands. Y/N moaned at the sensation of his touch, instinctively grinding against him.

Jungwon’s arousal grew, and she could feel his erection pressing against his pants. Y/N noticed and pulled him closer, unzipping them. Once his cock was free, she took it in her hand, stroking it gently.

Jungwon let out a low groan, feeling the pressure build inside him. Y/N leaned in to kiss him again, whispering in his ear:

Y/N: "I want you to take me, God of Time. I want you to penetrate me and give me the pleasure only you can."

Jungwon needed no further encouragement. Hearing her call him “God of Time” ignited a fire within him like nothing else ever had. He slid his hand along her thigh, gently parting her legs. He positioned himself at her entrance and slowly pushed inside.

Y/N let out a loud gasp, clutching his shoulders. He began to move, and she moaned with every thrust.

Y/N: "Jungwon, yes, yes. Harder. I want you to take me."

Jungwon quickened his pace, his thrusts growing stronger and deeper. Y/N’s moans turned into cries as she was swept into an intense orgasm. Jungwon could no longer hold back, reaching his climax with a loud groan. Y/N collapsed onto Jungwon’s chest, the two of them entwined and exhausted.

Y/N: "That was incredible."

Jungwon smiled, gently kissing her forehead.

Jungwon: "I’m glad you enjoyed it, Y/N. I wish we could do this more often."

Y/N didn’t understand what he meant. He was a god—he could do and have anything he wanted, anytime he wanted. Why was he acting as if it weren’t so, she wondered.

Y/N: "But we have all the time in the world, just for us. We can do this as many times as we want."

Jungwon: "Perhaps in another life."

And with a snap of his fingers, Y/N was transported back to her room, lying in her bed in a deep sleep. Jungwon erased her memories. When she woke, Y/N wouldn’t remember ever meeting Jungwon, the God of Time, or how he had fucked her senseless, leaving her mind unable to function.

This story is part of the universe of ' Divine Sins: Immortal Fantasies with ENHYPEN ' created by me.Description:Seven sensual and mysterious tales that delve into the desires between mortals and immortals. Inspired by the members of ENHYPEN, these stories reimagine the group as powerful gods and a fallen angel, all wickedly alluring and irresistibly seductive. Each narrative immerses readers in a world of fantasy, unveiling forbidden passions, divine secrets, and the overwhelming intensity that sparks between celestial beings and an ordinary human. A universe brimming with lust, mystery, and the captivating allure of the forbidden, where every story is an invitation to desire. Contains mature content.

✿ If you don't reblog and comment, you can be sure I'll be showing up in your dreams tonight... and I won’t be as sweet as in the story ✿

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blkbbyprincess · 2 days ago

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turn up the temp! arcane!vi x blk!reader nsfw

vi likes a girl with a mouth on her; a girl who knows her way around some pussy.

a girl who has the ability to pull a variety of enticing sounds from her throat, leaving her with a sore one after she’s been eaten sloppy.

a girl who's got it all figured out and knows exactly what she wants from you and how she’s gonna get it; with experience of course.

that particular girl would be you.

the same girl she was currently snickering under the covers with in this bastardly wintery weather; all cuddled up on each other like penguins trying to keep warm and prevent catching a cold or worse.

if someone happened to see you two right now, it would be a good laugh; a great one even. it was almost ridiculous how you and vi were quite literally spooning each other trying to get some kind of warmth.

“your feet are freezing you fucker, get em off me” vi giggled.

you’re no better; your hands are freezing my back, you know that? you shot back with a sneer.

“how the hell else are we supposed to warm up if the air conditioning is jacked? i’d like to hear a better suggestion, genius.”

“i meannnn, there’s always one way we both like.”

so there you were, licking at vi’s clit from under the covers with two fingers in her vagina; opening and closing them in a scissoring motion to better stimulate her.

“-fu-fuckkkk, that’s it babygirl.”

Her voice quivered as she struggled to stay silent, desperate not to create enough noise to provoke the neighbors into beating the door down again. but it was nearly impossible to hold back when she was experiencing head of a lifetime.

she often found herself curious about where could you have possibly learned how to eat pussy like this?

she hoped and prayed it was only because of an overwhelming amount porn or something; because if she were to find out another girl had experienced this that she was feeling; she would surely die.

she quickly brought her hand to her mouth, letting out a sharp gasp as your tongue found her g-spot. waves of pleasure surged through her, and she could already sense her climax approaching, even though barely ten minutes had passed.

she was trying her best to hold out for you, because in all honesty, as much as she loved when you ate her out; she hated cumming first; and as slick as you were, literally and figuratively, you made sure she wasn’t able to touch you.

but you never noted anything subconsciously about not being able to touch yourself.

your poor baby was getting so pathetically vocal; it was starting to arouse you to the point where your pussy was painfully throbbing; so you did what any desperate woman would do, and reached back and began to work your fingers into your sopping cunt.

“ohhh s-shittt, i love when you moan in it cupcake, keep doin’ t-that.”

the relentless sounds of your and vi's heavy breathing and moaning made the space beneath the comforter feel like it was comparable to hell itself.

the smell of sex filled the room quicker than a freshly lit joint; and that says a lot about how busy you and vi were getting down. you wanted warmth for the winter, and boyyy did you get it.

it got so intense that the heat was making you nauseous in the head; dizzying, almost as if you had popped a damn 30.

(i cant help but make drug references what can i say i’m a weedhead lol.)

“i-i can’t much longer vi, i-i’m about to-.”

you were trembling in your legs, doing everything you could to hold back from finishing before her. but after all the time that passed since you last hooked up, it felt impossible to resist at that moment.

“it’s o-ok cupcake mmmh me too, cum with me?”

in that moment, both of you reached a simultaneous release, resulting in her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, an arm draped across her forehead, while you fell beside her in exhaustion.

vi shook herself out of her long, totally inappropriate thoughts and tossed the comforter off both of you, flinging it as far as she could to the edge of the bed.

“feeling a little warmer now?” you poke, with your face planted in the sheets; sounding a little muffled.

“on fire cupcake, on fucking fire.” she said contently, wiping sweat beads off her cheeks; reaching over to wipe yours off your neck.

about thirty minutes later, you two were back snuggled between one another, watching “orange is the new black” comfortably until hearing a loud sound that resounded a switch being flipped from outside your apartment and a humming noise leading afterwards.

you both ended up ignoring the noise until you felt a change in temperature a few moments later; finally realizing what the noise from earlier was.

that noise was the fucking heating system up and running again.

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geneviveleocardius · 1 day ago

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unrequited love

feat. gojo satoru + nanami’s girlfriend

gojo satoru didn’t know what was wrong with him, really. he wasn’t the type to get hung up on anything—or anyone, for that matter. people were fleeting, forgettable, and women? they were easy. too easy. but you? you were different, and that difference was the single most frustrating thing he’d ever encountered.

you, with your bright smile and sharp tongue, barely spared him a glance. and it wasn’t because you were shy, uninterested, or didn’t like men. no, it was because of him—nanami kento. your perfect, always-in-control boyfriend who didn’t so much as flinch under gojo’s relentless teasing. nanami was everything gojo wasn’t, and maybe that was part of why this thing—this stupid, clawing obsession—was driving him out of his mind.

it didn’t help that you were kind. the kind of kind that made his stomach twist uncomfortably because he didn’t deserve it. you didn’t treat him like a god or a nuisance. you treated him like a person, and that was infinitely worse.

but what really drove the knife in deeper, what twisted it, was the way you looked at nanami. the way your face softened when he walked into a room, the way you laughed at his dry humor like it was the funniest thing in the world. and nanami? he lapped it up like the luckiest bastard alive, his hand always hovering at the small of your back, like he knew exactly what he had and wasn’t about to let go.

satoru hated it.

he hated how he found himself gravitating toward you even when he swore he wouldn’t. hated how he lingered when nanami wasn’t around, offering help you didn’t ask for and pretending it wasn’t because he just wanted to be near you. he hated the way jealousy burned hot and ugly in his chest every time nanami kissed you goodbye or murmured something in your ear that made you blush.

he wasn’t in love. he refused to believe that. no, this wasn’t love. it was the thrill of the chase—or maybe just the insult to his ego. you didn’t pay him any mind, and he wasn’t used to that. it had to be that.

except, sometimes, in the quiet moments—when he caught himself watching you from across the room or replaying something you’d said days ago—he wondered if it was more. and that scared him.

“sensei, are you listening?” yuuji’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. gojo blinked, realizing he’d been staring off into space again. his students were all looking at him, waiting for some kind of response.

“huh? oh, yeah. totally. we were talking about…?”

megumi sighed. “you’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?”

“who?” gojo asked, feigning innocence, but the way nobara smirked told him he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“nanami’s girlfriend,” she said bluntly. “it’s kind of obvious.”

“what? no! absolutely not.” his protest was immediate, but his students didn’t look convinced.

“you’re so obvious it’s embarrassing,” nobara added, rolling her eyes. “just admit it already.”

“admit what? that i’m irresistible? that’s old news.”

“that you’re into her.”

gojo waved her off, but his chest tightened at the accusation. “you kids don’t know what you’re talking about.”

but maybe they did.

because later, when he found you laughing with nanami in the hall, your hand resting casually on his arm, gojo felt that all-too-familiar ache again. he wanted to look away, to walk past and pretend it didn’t bother him. but he couldn’t. instead, he stood there, frozen, watching the two of you like some kind of masochist.

when you noticed him, your smile faltered just slightly, but you didn’t pull your hand away. “satoru. you need something?”

he swallowed, forcing a grin. “me? nah. just passing by.”

nanami raised a brow, clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t say anything. gojo’s grin widened. “don’t let me interrupt your little lovefest.”

you rolled your eyes. “grow up, satoru.”

and just like that, you turned back to nanami, effectively dismissing him.

he should’ve walked away then, but he didn’t. he stayed until nanami caught his eye, his expression hardening in silent warning. and for once, gojo listened.

but later, when he was alone, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. about you. about how much he wanted you, even though he knew he couldn’t have you.

and god, that made him want you even more.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader

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slimybeth69 · 6 hours ago

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Girl Dinner

@pedrospookie made the cutest fucking mood board for this fic, she also gave me so much inspiration for this! Let's all thank her for her perfect brain.

Part 1 of 4- Knocked Loose

Rating: explicit -

kidnapped!Joel x isolated&unhinged&potentially crazy!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions besides having hair long enough to hold and fall into your face, the reader is actually crazy, talks to herself- hears little voices in her head. You gotta know this going into it)

thanks to @bonezone44 for this idea.

w/c : 9k (whoops)

Summary: After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.

warnings/tags: non-con/dub-con/ altered mental state(?) throughout the entire thing. stockholm syndrome, violence (reader and Joel both get hurt) Joel is an unwilling participant... or is he? cockwarming, unprotected P in V, dirty talk- more to come.

authors note: Hey! I know a lot people get icked out by the idea of non-con or dub con, and that's fine, but I like it, so I'm gonna write this. I don't think any of this should be acted out ITRL. DON'T KIDNAP PEOPLE!! This is your last and final warning just so everyone is aware of what's going on. this is unbeta'd, poorly proofread and probably incoherent. I love you all so, so, so much.

The weather is finally starting to change, it's not as hot as a pigs asshole anymore, and you wake up feeling refreshed, rather than sticky and sour from sleeping in a pool of your own sweat all night long.

The first thought that comes to your head though isn't the changing weather, or how you'll eventually need to break out your warmer clothes soon, nope— you don't give a shit about any of that.

It's just Mister-man that you're thinking about.

He might be the most pretty thing you've ever seen. With his shoulder length, brown and gray curls, and his patchy facial hair that matches so nicely. The thought of how rough and scratchy it would feel against your tongue makes your spine tingle.

Mister-man is a big boy. Hefty, broad, and looked so strong whenever he came into the mall.

You've been watching him for a while. He comes around every three or four days snooping in all the stores for supplies.

It's like he doesn't even know you're here…or if he does, he doesn't care. Rude! You're a pretty girl!

He's just coming to take our stuff, just like the rest of the monster-men out there. If he finds us, he might wanna take-

"Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop!" You put your hands over your ears, even though those voices just get louder when you do that.

Mister-man wouldn't hurt'chya…

Yes, he would. He's a man.

"It's too early for this," You grumble, sitting up in your bed.

The mattress store is nice and clean, just how you left it last night before you crawled into bed. You think about how it would be alarming if it wasn't exactly how you left it before you went to bed. You did your nightly walk-through to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be, and that there weren't any extras hanging about.

As you get dressed, you think about what the dark voice was about to say. You know exactly what Mister-man would try and take from you if he found you. What all the other men in this fucking place want from you.

It's hard to make any of that matter as you skip to your hiding spot in the rafters above the food court. That's where he always enters from, even though the easier entrance with less glass and boards to climb through is on the other side of the mall.

It's a good thing you set up a trap there too, if he comes in through that entrance, at least you'll hear the snare go off and hopefully get to him in time to get his gun and knife.

Mister-man is a creature of habit, he doesn't like to switch things up, Sug. He'll come through this door.

He might. He might not. Mister-man might be playing your game better than you, kid.

"Well then, it's a good thing I thought of everything," you murmur, climbing up the discarded scaffolding to get into the rafters.

It's not scary up here, you like the thrill of knowing if you made one mistake—

Goner!

Splat!

"I've never fallen though!" You giggle, settling in to the perch just above the now blown out glass doors. It's a comfortable little spot, and you've arranged some blankets and pillows from the mattress store up here so you can nap if you want. There are some snacks, and bottles of water in case you have to stay up here for more than just a couple hours, keeping an eye out for Mister-man.

People must have stayed here in the mall during the outbreak, or right after because the doors are boarded up the best they can be, and the tables and chairs from the food court are set up all around like a barricade.

It was perfect, less work for you to have to do, and no one else bothers to come in here anymore— it's either too far, too hard to get too, or not worth the pay out.

Not for our lovely, handsome, soon to be perfect, Mister-man; the reason he comes every week is so sweet.

You wondered why he kept coming back when there really isn't much to scavenge anymore: every single store had been picked through before you got here, and you went and took the last of whatever anyone else didn't want or need and squirreled it away in a nice hiding spot.

Mister-man came every three or four days-- so that he could sit his ass in a comfortable recliner for a couple hours.

Remember that time he took a nap?

"Of course I do! How could I forget?!"

It's the cutest thing, and you love to watch him relax. Rest. Let his guard down for a little while.

"Slept like a lil baby that day," you mumble, feeling the heat spread up your neck and behind your cheeks. It's impossible to not smile at the memory of Mister sleeping in his chair, arms behind his head, snoring loudly.

His hair was real soft...'n he smelled so..

Why does he let us get so close? It's gotta be a trap.

Oh shut up, maybe he wants us to get close!

"I don't think he can hear me too good," you breathe out to the empty mall. The sun is starting to shine directly in your eyes— which means Mister-man will be here soon. "Always lookin' over his left shoulder. He never looks over his right, me thinks he can't hear outta that ear."

Mister has been coming for a couple months. He first started when the snow started to melt. And he kept coming through the spring when everything was wet and soggy, and he'd traipse mud through the mall like this wasn't your house!

That's how you knew he had been there though, so you waited to see if he'd come back-- and he did.

Mister-Man kept coming, even when the summer got so hot it was almost unbearable. Venturing outside was almost dangerous, but Mister always came.

Just to sit in his chair.

The air is filled with the sounds of birds singing, and insects buzzing in the lazy, summer heat. The mornings aren't too bad anymore, but the afternoon is still sweltering.

The late afternoon's are even worse when the heat finally settles, and everything gets sticky, and feeling all wet even though it's not wet outside! It's hot, but the air feels thick and damp somehow.

Awh, looks like he ain't coming today, Sug.

Good-fucking-riddance.

"He'll show up. If not today… tomorrow…or the next day. Or next week! He always comes, sillies. Gettin' me all nervous for nothin—"

Shhhhhh!!!! He's coming.

Mister-man is coming. You can hear him before he even crawls through the hole in one of the boards. He has to slide the table he sets up every time he comes and goes.

Once he's upright, brushing himself clean of any debris that he might have picked up on his crawl into the mall, he starts to walk.

It's not hard to stay quiet, you know exactly where the spots that creak are, and where things might break and fall apart if you were to put too much weight on them.

It's easier to follow him around as he slinks through the abandoned shopping center than you thought, as long as you stay on his right side. You've been watching and learning, and had a long time to figure him out.

Mister is so cute, walking real slow with his back to the wall, his head on a constant swivel. You wanna call out to him and tell him it's just the three of you in the mall.

He continues to sneak very quietly.

Can't hide from us.

"He sure can't," you giggle, almost silently.

Mister-man pauses, and looks over his left shoulder, as if something caught his attention. He looks all around, head twisting in either and all directions. At one point, he looks right up at where you're standing.

It's like he's looking right at you, like he can see you flitting through the rafters right above him.

Mister-man just shakes his head, as if he was hearing things, and continues onward towards the furniture store.

Fuck, he really can't hear for shit.

"He sure can't."

Mister doesn't make it inside the furniture store today, unfortunately for him.

When Joel wakes up, his head is fucking pounding and— he's upside down. Shit.

Not again.

"What the fuck?" Joel croaks, his hands feel like they weigh a thousand pounds as he tries to lift them from where they're dangling over his head. His shoulders hurt, and his back aches. His ankles feel like they're on fire.

There isn't much he can do but hang here, waiting for his vision to un-blur and for the throbbing in his head to go away.

Probably get gutted like a pig.

Finally, after blinking a million times, Joel can see things clearly.

You- a young woman- with a gun in your hand, another strapped to the outside of your thigh, and a fucking machete strapped across your back.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" Joel shouts, his hands now easily flying to the holster—It's empty. The pack he had been carrying on his back is gone too.

Joel watches as you look at him like he should already know what you're doing: a half smile plastered onto your pretty lips, the crinkle at the corners of your eyes, your head tilted to the side ever so slightly, couching in front of his pack.

"Lookin' through your stuff," you croon to him.

Joel's blood boils. What the fuck are you doing? Who the fuck are you? How did you manage to get him all strung up, hanging from the ceiling?

He says nothing as you stay picking through his backpack, taking out every single thing he has in there. His map, compass, the backup flashlight, the gas-mask— which you're putting on?

Why? There weren't any spores in here— were there?

"This thing is fuckin' cool!" Your voice is muffled, and you stand up straight. Then you hold your hands out at your sides, and spin in a circle.

"Hey!" Joel barks at you, flinching away from the revolving barrel of your pistol with each rotation you make. "Stop swinging that thing around, would ya'!?" Joel shouts as you continue to spin.

You stop suddenly, and stare at him through the big, dark lenses of his gas mask. "You know all about swinging around, don'tchya?" You giggle at him.

Joel literally swings back and forth as you say this, very slowly spinning around as he sways, and the throbbing in his head only makes him more angry.

"Cut me the fuck down, keep what'chya want— I don't got time for all this," Joel grumbles, lifting his head so he can look at the rope tied around his ankles. It's a good knot, and without a knife, Joel isn't going to get down on his own, not without his knife.

He reaches behind him to feel for it on his belt—

"Lookin' for this?" Your still muffled voice questions Joel as his fingers brush across the empty space on his waist where his knife would be.

He tips his head almost all the way back, and then to the side so he can see you— and is greeted by the sight of you, still in the gas mask, and now, holding his knife by the blade with your thumb and index finger. All he can do is sigh, close his eyes and wonder how a trip to sit in his favorite recliner led to this.

"Now, I ain't really wanna hurt'chya— I was hopin' you was gunna say knocked out long enough for me to cut'cya down and—"

Joel doesn't wanna hear anymore. "Just cut me the fuck down— people are gon' come lookin' for me if you—"

You apparently don't wanna hear what Joel has to say anymore either, because you start to talk over him. "—we're just gunna go—"

Joel doesn't care, doesn't want to listen to your muffled voice— he wishes you would take his stupid, fucking gas mask off and talk to him like a normal person. He's gotta be able to barter with you somehow. "—don't let me go. If it's food 'n water ya' want, I can get ya' some—"

The two of you are just talking louder, and louder, until the both of you are shouting over the other, neither one of you actually hearing what the other is saying.

"—let me go!"

"—stay forever!"

The two of you stop and stare at each other in silence for a moment. Joel can't really comprehend what you just said, "Stay forever?"

"Yep!" You exclaim happily.

Did he say that aloud?

"You 'n me, together forever, Mister-man," you sigh dreamily at him.

It's not what you say, it's how you say it— like you really believe what you've just said. Like…it was something you had been thinking about, for a while.

"Huh?" Is all he can say, still slowly swaying and spinning. He has to turn his head almost completely around before he whips it to the other side, he wants to keep his eyes on you at all times. You seem un-fucking-predictable.

"Ain't'chya so excited!?" You squeal, and it makes Joel's head ache.

"Gon' fuckin' strangle you once I get down from here," Joel half grumbles, half chuckles under his breath. He crosses his arms over his chest, watching you rummage around for something in his bag.

"That's why I gotta do this," your muffled voice sounds sad as you pull something out and whip it behind your back, hiding it, and that makes Joel nervous.

"Do what?" Joel tries to see what you pulled out of his backpack.

"Gotta close your eyes," you shrug your shoulders, and rock back and forth on the balls of your feet.

Joel blinks at you, just staring at him through the gas mask. He's not completely unsettled by the sight of you in a gas mask, he's seen women wearing them plenty— it's the fact that you have him completely at your mercy and he can barely see your fucking eyes.

He's so fucking stupid for coming out here alone all the time, Tommy and Ellie both warned him- both told him that something would happen to him out here. He'd hurt his back— or worse. And no one would know where to find him- because this was his secret hideaway. A place to escape the responsibilities of being a dad, a grandpa, and a big brother.

Joel loves Ellie, JJ and Tommy more than he ever thought possible— and loves that he got to be around them everyday— it was just starting to be a lot.

If Joel had the means to move that recliner into his house in Jackson, he would have— but it's too big, too heavy and way too fucking far.

Now look at him, upside down!

"Ya' ain't gunna wanna see it comin'." You give Joel a small warning. "Please just close them," you whine, starting to nervously dance on your tip toes.

"No." Joel growls, arms still crossed over his chest.

"'Kay!" You exclaim, running over to Joel. "Warned ya'!" You pull the brick Joel had put in his pack for emergencies.

"Wait! Wait—"

Cripes-all-mighty, Mister-Man is heavy as hell!

It takes everything you have inside of you to drag him to the mattress store. By the time you get there, your shirt is soaked through with sweat, your hair clings to your forehead and the side of your face. Every muscle aches and feels as if it's being torn from the bone it's clinging to.

Huffing and puffing, you drag him through the sea of mattresses until you get to the staircase that leads into the basement office.

"Sorry, Mister-Man," you grunt and push him down the stairs—

He's fine! You lined the stairs, and the bottom where he landed with mattresses a couple days ago-- after you brought his favorite recliner down here. All by yourself. Did it just for Mister-Man, because you want him to be comfortable! You want him to feel nice, and relaxed, and safe here with you.

Once you have him nice and secure to his chair— you wait.

He hit his head pretty hard when you snared him— you didn't think of that part. Then he had to go and wake up! Like a dumb idiot! He could have just stayed asleep, then you wouldn't have had to hit him again!

Thank goodness for that brick he keeps in his backpack, which, what the fuck is that about? It's a good weapon, but it's heavy, and made his backpack harder to carry than you would like to admit.

You were also lugging that giant of a man around, ya' did good, Sugar.

Yeah, ya' did good, kid.

You wrap your arms around yourself and sigh, "Thanks."

You wanna tell the voices in your head that you love them, but you don't really always love them. Sometimes you hate them, and wish they would shut up, and sometimes they don't talk when you need them to— finicky fuckers! And they almost never see eye to eye, and it's exhausting. So you just say thanks.

Mister-man is so pretty up close. Even more pretty than you could have ever thought or dreamed of. He doesn't look like he's shaved or cleaned up his beard in the last couple days, and his hair was combed back away from his face when he got here today— but now it's a mess, matted to his forehead in drying blood, falling into his eyes.

"Shit," you whisper, taking in the sight of him all beat up—

Sug, you gotta clean him up— make him pretty again.

The sweet voice is right!

Mister-man looks so sad all bloody and a mess.

"I'll be right back," you murmur and press a gentle kiss to his forehead through his blood stained hair, and then double check all of the ropes around his wrists and ankles.

He's secure, time to go get him lookin' nice again.

When you come back, your bag is filled to the brim with supplies from the the multiple stores that still have things inside them. You got him a comb, and a spray bottle that you already filled with clean water. You were able to find some clean clothes that look like they'll fit him.

He's also awake.

"Hi, Mist—"

"Let me go."

"—er-man!" You finish through the interruption. "I'm gunna clean you up now, and then we can have dinner. 'Kay?"

Mister-man stares at you.

"Oh!" You rip the gas mask off and place it on his lap. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to steal it. I promise." You cross your heart with one index finger.

"Let. Me. Go."

You wince with each barked word. "I. Don't. Wanna."

"If I ever get outta here, m'gon' fuckin' kill ya'," he growls.

You frown, pinch your eyebrows together and mock his thick, country twang. "M'gon' fuckin' clean ya' up real good, 'n then me 'n ya' can have fuckin' dinner." You growl back at him.

"Shut th'fuck up, untie me—"

"Why!? So you can kill me?" You shake your head at him, giving him a small smirk. "Not gunna happen, Mister."

His eyes go wider than you've ever seen them, as if he might be nervous. "What th'fuck you gon' do to me then, huh?"

"Clean. You. Up. Then. Have. Dinner. Did I say it too fast the first time, or can you really not hear too good?" You cock your head to one side, and look at him quizzically.

"Th'fuck did ya' just ask me?" Joel feels his chest going tight-- this hasn't happened in fucking years. It can't be happening right now.

"I talk real fast sometimes, and I don't realize it, and so sometimes all my words come out real jumbled to--"

"'Bout my hearin'?" Joel's working overtime to suck the air in, to bring precious oxygen to his brain. His head is still pounding, and now he can't fucking breathe, and he can't even imagine what kind of sick, twisted shit you're going to do to him.

Joel watches your eyes drop to the ground by his feet, and it's almost like you pull your body in on itself somehow, retreating into a place where you're trying to hide from him in plain sight. "I been watchin' you when you come in here... just act like you can't hear all that good outta your right ear," you say in a voice so small Joel can barely hear it.

"Watchin' me?" Joel scoffs.

Who the fuck are you? How long have you been watching him? How come he's never seen you before? Never even seen a trace of another person around here, just the stray raccoon or possum.

Joel's blood boils when you nod your head at him, still unable to look him in the eye. "Ya' should be ashamed. Whatever it is ya' wanna do to me is probably fucked--"

"I'm not ashamed," your voice snaps, and finally you lift your head to meet Joel's gaze. "Not even a little."

"Actin' like it," Joel's voice is snappier, and louder, and it makes you flinch.

"Maybe a little embarrassed--"

"Ashamed, fuckin' embarrassed, same fuckin' thing." Joel rolls his eyes at you.

"Not really," you shake your head from side to side and raise both of your eyebrows at him. "Not at all, actually."

"Would you shut th'fuck up?!"

"Would you shut th'fuck up..." You mock Joel. "I'm tryin' to do somethin' nice for you, and you keep telling me to shut the fuck up!"

"Do somethin' nice f'me?!" If this wasn't almost thirty years after the fucking apocalypse happened, Joel would think he was on some hidden camera show.

"Yeah!" You hold out the supplies you had brought back from wherever the fuck you had run off too while Joel was unconscious.

"Doin' somethin' nice would be lettin' me go, sweetheart." Joel switches his tone- does something he wouldn't normally do in a situation like this.

Your eyes light up. They crinkle in the corners a little, like they did the first time he saw you, but you're not upside down this time. The corners of your lips are trying to curl up, but you're actively trying to stop them.

"Don't call me that, 'less you mean it."

With the comb, water bottle and first-aid kit in hand, you take your place behind him and inspect the wound.

It's a surface wound, but dirty from the brick and still very bloody.

It's a painstaking process, because you don't want to be the cause of his pain anymore. Not ever again if you can help it.

Really, that's up to Mister, but he'll find out on his own soon enough! He just has to play nice, be sweet and kind— be the Mister you want him to be, and he'll be perfectly happy here with you. Life here with you in the mall could be perfect! He just needs to be perfect. He's almost there, he just has to keep his mouth shut.

He's not quiet, not at all. He hoots and hollers at you to stop, to let him go, that he's gonna gut you like a fish if he ever gets free from here.

The way he talks, his voice feels like the deepest note on a piano, or the thickest string being plucked on a guitar. It vibrates in the spaces between your ribs, and forces all the air out of your lungs when he talks.

He's taking your breath away... how romantic.

The sweet and airy voice in your head is right, he is taking your breath away. You wish he would stop saying those mean and terrible things to you-- they're making you hurt inside, where your stomach is.

Guilt. You should just kill him right now--

"Hurt him?"

Mister stops shouting, and raises one eyebrow at you.

Look'it those big brown eyes. Like a baby cow. All wet 'n big, kinda scared lookin'.

Ugh, shoot him right between those beautiful brown eyes, kid. You can do it.

He ain't hurt you yet, Sug...

Because she tied him up--

As she should, she's gotta feel him out a little, make sure he's really not gonna hurt her.

How is he ever going to hurt her if he's tied up?

"Okay, enough!" You almost shout-- there they go! Never seeing eye to eye, making things harder than they needed to be!

"I'll yell all I fuckin' want," Joel does holler, loudly. So loud. He's going to draw attention.

"Do I need to get the brick again?"

Joel stops shouting.

He really can't hold back the pained sounds coming from his throat as you attend to his wound.

You're being so, so gentle!

He's acting like a giant baby.

"M'hurtin' you?" You mumble as you drag the damp cloth along his forehead carefully, cleaning the moderately large gash you left there with the brick. It's swollen, and bruised now... you feel so terrible.

He'll forgive you, Sugar.

Mister-man doesn't say anything, he just flinches away from your touch for the millionth time.

"M'sorry, didn't mean t'hurt you this bad." You slowly start to work the comb through his hair, spraying it down with water when you needed to. You're careful to never pull on his hair too hard, and work the tangles out meticulously so you don't bring him any more discomfort.

"Got'chu some medicine." You reach into your pocket and pull out two white pills.

"I ain't takin' nothin' y'give me, fuckin' crazy bitch." He grumbles.

Mister watches you walk around to the front of him, and kneel between his legs.

"S'just regular," you hold your hand up to his face so he can inspect the pill on his own. "Nothin' strong like they had in the QZ's," it's a gentle explanation as he studies the medicine in your palm. "Can find some for ya' if you wanted me to, m'real good at findin' stuff."

"Find it in your heart t'let me outta here," Joel gives you the sweetest, crookedest smile that makes you stomach feel like it grows ten sizes, and your heart feels like it's racing something else inside of you.

There are sweet wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, and the lines on his forehead deepen, and he has the softest dimple on his left cheek.

Sug, he's so pretty.

Kill. Him. Before. He. Kills. You.

"So pretty," you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, and rest one of your elbows on his knee, propping your head up on the heel of your hand. The pills are still right in front of Joel's face, and his eyes flash between them, and your face.

"Not takin' them" he grumbles, twisting his head away from your hand.

"Suit yourself," you put the pills back into your pocket, dipping your head down to press a soft kiss to his knee. "M'gunna go get us dinner, I'll be back."

Joel stares at the tray of food you set down on the table you dragged over to be directly in front of him.

"Where's the protein?" Joel looks up at you from the plate of crackers with peanut butter, a small bowl of raspberries, two packets of expired pretzels you would get on an airplane, and a full bottle of labelless whiskey.

"S'in the peanut butter," you say through a mouthful of your own cracker.

Begrudgingly, Joel opens his mouth when you hold a cracker up to his lips. "Where's the meat?"

The crackers are dry, and kind of stale somehow? The peanut butter is still nice and creamy, just the way Joel remembered it before the outbreak.

"Where would I find meat?"

Joel pinches his brows together and blinks at you. "Ya' live in the woods, got a gun or two-- fuckin' know how to set a snare--"

You gasp softly, and rest one elbow on the table and point at him with a lazy index finger, "You 'spect me to go out there and kill an innocent lil friend? They ain't ever done nothin' t'me. Why would I go out 'n hurt 'em when I ain't got no reason to?"

Joel continues to blink, trying so hard to keep his eyes on you and not the ropes you have him tied down with so tightly they're starting to dig into the skin on his forearms-- painfully.

"Ya' kiddin', right?" He watches as you place a raspberry directly into the peanut butter on the cracker and hold it out for him.

"Issa good combo, try it." You nod your head at him, urging him to open his mouth.

Joel doesn't want to, doesn't want to give you the satisfaction of knowing he needs you, and is going to keep needing you until you decide to kill him, or set him free.

He opens his mouth though, because Joel hasn't had a raspberry in years and he loves them, and the sight of that plump, juicy berry sitting so comfortably in that pillow of delicious, creamy peanut butter is making his stomach rumble. Loudly.

"Want some?" You hold up the bottle of whiskey, screw off the cap and take a swig. "See, it's safe," you look at him through your lashes, and give him a one-corner-of-your-mouth-smile.

Joel nods his head, because what else was there to do if he was going to be a prisoner here? He tried so hard to free himself of the restraints while you were gone, but you know how to tie a knot, and Joel just ended up giving himself rope burn.

An hour later, Joel feels pretty good, but not good enough to forget the situation he's in, but the booze is making you very chatty, and he might actually be enjoying the conversation.

"'N I get power from the solar things up on the roof, I think."

"Ya' think?" Joel smirks at you, he can't help it.

"I dunno how the solar works," you exclaim, holding one hand towards the ceiling. "It's the sun and black screens," you give the ceiling the middle finger and groan. "Barely works when the sun is out-- I just wanna watch my movies--"

"What kinda movies ya' got?"

He wishes he never asked.

You're sitting between his legs on the floor-- reaching behind you to feed him raspberries, never taking your eyes off the screen.

Joel thing's about biting your fingers off, thinks about taking the tips right off with his front teeth.

What would you do if he did that? Joel is still tied up, and he would just have raspberries and bloodied fingertips in his mouth, and then possibly a crazy, unpredictable, angry woman who would try and kill him.

Joel has seen angry people every day for close to thirty years... he knows what they look like, what they sound and act like--- you don't sound or act angry.

"Love this part," you sigh, leaning back into him, and resting your head on his knee.

Joel looks up to the screen, watching Cinderella transform into her beautiful ball gown.

Joel wishes he could reach out and run his fingers through your hair.

No he fucking doesn't? What the actual fuck? What did you put in the food, or the whiskey to make him feel this way?

Joel clenches his hands to fists on the arms of the recliner, and tenses his jaw-- grinding his teeth in the process.

You continue to drink throughout the movie, and when the credits are rolling-- you stumble to your feet, and then into his lap.

"Get off'a me," Joel gripes as you nuzzle your nose against the side of his face.

"Just wanna cuddle," you murmur, curling yourself up into his chest, yawning sleepily. "F'just a lil bit."

"Get off'a me, ya' fuckin' nut!" Joel shouts, and regretfully, tries to headbutt you.

His cheekbone, the side of his nose and part of his forehead connect with the top of your skull in a dull, aching thud.

You scramble off his lap, and fall to the floor, one hand holding the top of your head where Joel had just whacked you. The right side of his face is throbbing, and he thinks his nose might be bleeding, or he's crying- he doesn't know- he doesn't care. He just wants to go home.

"What the fuck!?" You shout back at him. "Mister, I ain't been mean to you at all, minus the brick- okay? What the hell is your problem!?"

Joel can't help but laugh, it starts off as a chuckle, but quickly matures into full on guffawing. "Y'fuckin' insane, ya' know that?" Joel rumbles through his fit.

Through the tears in his eyes, Joel can see you glaring at him.

Okay, he hurt her, can she kill him now?

Sugar, he ain't mean it... not really... he just needs some time to adjust.

He could have really hurt her, are you serious?

He's just nervous! Give the man a break--

Tired of giving men breaks- tired of letting them get away-

"Both of you, knock it off." It's a stern warning to the voice as you glare at Mister.

He stops laughing and blinks at you. "Huh?" He cocks one eyebrow up high, "Both o' ya?"

His question doesn't register, all you can think about is how disappointed you are in him.

"I was gunna let'chya sleep in the big bed with me," you huff, climbing to your feet. "Ain't gonna do that no more."

"I ain't wanna sleep in the big bed with y'crazy fuckin' ass, anyway!" He screams at you.

"What're ya' bein' so fuckin' mean for? I cleaned ya' up, made ya' pretty again-- fed you dinner 'n shared my drink with you!"

Do not cry! What're you doing!? Don't let him see you cry! Get out of here, right now!

The dark voice is right, the burn in your nose and the sting in your eyes are tell tale signs of tears- and you hate them. Hate the way they make your face wet and sticky, hate how they make your heart hurt, hate how your head feels like it's ten pounds heavier when you get done crying.

He'll come around, Sug. Gotta give him some time. If ya' stay nice-- it'll happen sooner than you think.

"I like bein' nice," you murmur, not taking your eyes off Mister.

"Th'fuck are you talkin' about!?" He exclaims, eyes wide, almost obsidian with rage and confusion.

"G'night, Mister. We'll try again t'morow."

Mister doesn't rest, doesn't relax, doesn't settle down at all.

When you open the door to his room, he's still screaming his head off.

"Hey!" You shout back at him, grabbing his attention. "We got raiders 'round here. We got infected movin' in and outta here all the time-- you know how fuckin' loud you are?"

"Hopefully they all hear 'n come runnin'. I'd love to see you get torn to shred-"

"'Kay, m'real sorry ya' feel that way. Even sorrier that I gotta do this."

Mister doesn't stop fighting you the entire time you shove the bandanna into his mouth. He even bites down on your index and middle finger as you stuff the last corner of fabric between his teeth.

Hit him.

It happens so fast, you don't have time to stop yourself from the back of your hand connecting with his cheek.

"Now, you gunna play that game? I can play, too," you inspect your finger and the deep indentation he left that's already starting to bruise.

The duct tape is hard to rip, and you need to use your teeth to cut a strip to go over his mouth.

Mister is mumbling something around the bandanna, but you can't understand him, and honestly are still mad about your fingers-- they hurt! Really bad!

"Glad I still got that medicine... I'm gunna fuckin' need it!" You dig around in your pockets and look for the two white pills. Your fingers throb while you look, the sensitive skin; tender to the touch as it brushes against the fabric inside your pockets.

Mister glares at you with his almost black eyes.

"I'm sorry!" You find the pills, throw them into your mouth and swallow dry. "I'm sorry for hurtin' you. I do not like doin' it, I mean it." You take a couple steps towards him, and drop to your knees between his legs again.

Mister watches, his whole body still as you rest your head on his knee again.

"Just want ya' 'round. M'sorry," you close your eyes, not wanting him to see them fill with those traitorous tears. "Jus' real lonely out here. Miss havin' someone t'talk with...'n snuggle up to at night."

The fuckin' duct tape makes it impossible for Mister to say anything--which is the worst. You wanted someone to talk with, not at.

"I'll take the tape off in the mornin', and we can try again over breakfast, 'kay?"

Mister doesn't make a single sound for the rest of the night.

Joel is drunk again. Fuck, this is never good.

You're in his lap, knees on either side of his thighs with one arm around his neck, your head resting on his shoulder. There is something about the way your fingers twirl around in his hair at the nape of his neck that feels good. Too good.

"C'mon, get off'a me," Joel groans, but there's no passion in his voice. It's been almost three weeks of just this, and he doesn't hate it. Not when he's drunk.

Honestly, he barely dislikes it when he's sober, but he's better at acting like he doesn't want you on his lap when he hasn't had a drink that night.

How can he not like it just a little bit? You're soft, and warm, and fit so perfectly on his lap it's like you were made to be there.

"Couple more minutes, Mister. Please?" You fucking whimper,

The sound floating through Joel's ear canal sends a shiver down his spine, and directly into his cock. It twitches in his jeans. He's got to start thinking about baseball, and carpentry work, and how he's probably going to die soon.

Nothing works. Joel can feel the heat from your cunt through the thin fabric of your shorts, and his hands have been tied down to this chair every time you're not around. The only time you let him up is to use the bathroom-- and you have a gun while you wait for him the entire time, so he's never horny then!

And, as thankful as Joel is for this- you've never even looked at him like that. You look at him like you're in love with him all the time, but you've never once looked at him like you wanna touch him.

Joel tries to push his hips further into the chair, away from the perfect, searing heat of your middle.

"Where'ya goin?" Your voice purrs in his ear, your fingernails ghost across the skin on his neck and he shivers again, his cock feels it tenfold.

You feel it now, too.

"What're ya'--" you pause to look between your bodies, and then your eyes flash up to his. "That f'me?" You're whispering, and your glassy eyes are wide, and look so flattered.

"Ain't for nobody, stop lookin' at 'em," Joel grumbles, again, not really meaning any of it even though he should mean every single word.

"'Em?" you question him with your big, wet eyes and his cock twitches again.

Joel swallows hard, his eyes falling to your bottom lip clutched between your teeth, and nods. "Him, yeah, whatever you wanna call it-- ain't for you." He sighs softly.

"Why not?" you sink down further into his lap. The thin shorts you have on to wear to bed do nothing to keep your warmth contained. It's almost like Joel can feel what it would be like if you just whipped him out and sat-

He's never drinking with you again. Never again.

"Get off'a me," Joel leans forward gently as you lean into him, the tips of your noses touch softly.

"Gunna bite me if I kiss ya'?"

Joel is a goner, your breath smells sweet like raspberries and whiskey and every single thing about you is warm and soft-- Joel knows that if he wasn't fucking drunk he'd be fighting you tooth and nail, but he cannot right now.

He can't think about anything but what you'd feel like wrapped around him, milking him.

"Take'em out," Joel is the one to lean into the kiss, his lips aren't hesitant, or tentative at all when they meet yours. He is going to try and bite you- and he does, he nips at your bottom lip, but gently. He pulls back with it still bitten, and listens to you moan softly.

The quickness of your fingers isn't your friend, you struggle with his belt for what feels like an eternity as you push back against his kiss, eagerly slipping your tongue into Joel's waiting mouth.

Joel groans low in his throat when you wrap your hands around his girth, and then chuckles at your shocked gasp when you pull away to get a good look at him.

"He ain't gon' bite'chya," Joel teases, leaning forward, searching for your lips again.

"Might split me in half," you moan, presumably at the thought of Joel stretching you open.

Joel can't contain his own moan as you put the image in his head. "Fuuck, sit on him-- lemme feel ya'."

The sound that leaves you makes Joel throb in your hand, "Ya' want me t'put 'em inside?" You whisper, the silky smoothness of your hands on him, stroking him so slowly is making his head spin.

"Jeeesus, yes-- fuckin' c'mon- do it," Joel lets his head fall back against the recliner, and watches as you pull your shorts to the side, and lift yourself to hover over him. "C'mon..." Joel eggs you on in a whisper. "Y'can do it, crazy girl."

"Don't call--" you pause when you notch the head of him at your entrance. "--me crazy."

Joel groans loudly as you sink down and let every wet, soft part of you engulf him. He throbs again when you whimper and whine, eyes clenched shut, your hands grasping at his shoulders as you inch your way down his length.

"Ow, ow, ow," you whine, leaning forward to rest your head on Joel's.

He could headbutt the shit out of you right now, but fuck, the way you're looking at him, with real tears in your eyes, not just from drinking.

"Hey, ya' doin' real good, sweetheart, keep goin'-- nice 'n slow," Joel encourages you, because he doesn't want it to stop either. "Jus' like that, crazy girl."

God damn, is crazy pussy always this good? He wouldn't fucking know, he wouldn't ever get involved with you if he knew you back in Jackson- but out here, after almost three weeks with you... it's hard to deny the physical needs of a man. And you're so fucking soft and wet.

The two of you groan in unison when you fully seated. The velvet walls of your pussy are fluttering, and clenching around him as you adjust to his length.

"You're so big," you hum, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "Didn't think ya'd wanna do this," you whisper into his mouth. "Wasn't gon' take it from ya-- don't like that."

"Take what'chya need from me, whenever ya want it, shit," Joel tries to buck his hips up into yours to give you what you want but you whine in protest.

"Still hurts."

Joel settles his hips and leans into the best he can being tied down, his fingers grip the armrests of the chair tightly, groping it like he would be groping you if he could.

"Untie me," he murmurs while grinding up against you, not pulling out of you at all, just letting you feel him, letting you open up around him so it'll start to feel good.

"No," you nip at his bottom lip now, but you suck it into your mouth and tease him with your tongue as your walls start to rhythmically clench around him.

"Fuck, ya' doin' that on -ur-ose?" Joel groans with his bottom lip still being lapped at, The feeling of your tight, wet sucking him in deeper somehow- like it's fucking bottomless almost makes him come right then.

You pull back, his lip slips from between your with a wet pop "Mhm, ya' like it?" You clench harder around him and then release, and then do that over, and over again.

"Fuckin' untie me, wanna touch you- gotta feel how soft ya' are all over, c'mon," he's begging, he needs to feel the swell of your ass in his palm, or one of your tits spilling between his fingers as he grips you.

"No, you'll just try 'n leave me-"

"No, no, no-- I'll stay 'n... uh.. I'll... um- uh--oh, I'll play nice wit'chya" Joel racks his brain with anything that he could say that would possibly give him a chance at being able to really touch you.

"Lyin' t'me," you moan, and Joel throbs inside of you.

"Not lyin'-"

You pull back from his face at an alarming rate, and you scan his face slowly, as if you were drinking in every feature, savoring the flavor-- Joel watches you swallow hard and imagines that it's his load you just took down--

"Untie me, let me touch ya' a lil bit," Joel whispers, keeping his eyes locked on to yours. "Make ya' feel real good, promise." Joel licks his lips as he watches you struggle internally with the decision. "C'mon... gotta feel how soft ya' are, crazy girl. Just one hand."

"Fine."

You stay seated in his lap, his cock still throbbing inside of you as you work on the knot that will free his right hand. He's trembling in the anticipation of it all.

As soon as the pressure is gone off his wrist, Joel reels his arm back as far as he can, and sends it flying forward with as much force as he can muster after not eating meat for almost an entire month.

You scream as his fist connects with your right eye, and go flying to the floor.

Joel might be completely sober right now, and he knows he needs to move fast before you get up and probably shoot him for lying to you, and then punching you.

Yep. Shoot him. Shoot him right between his perfect, brow, baby-cow eyes. End it.

The dark voice in your head is right, but it's almost impossible to think about anything else but the pain shooting into your brain from your right eye socket.

"You motherfucker," you sob. The pain is electrifying- and you can't even see out of your right eye anymore!

That was your least favorite eye!

Kill. Him.

When you sit up, Joel is working on the knot around his left wrist.

You stumble to your feet, holding your hand over your eye trying to keep the actual ball in, in case it falls out, and walk over to the table with his book bag on it. You rummage around until your fingers wrap around the item you're looking for.

When Joel sees what you're carrying, not even attempting to hide it behind your back, he quickens his efforts on the knot.

Your left hand isn't your dominant one, but your right is busy keeping your eyeball in your head because it most surely got knocked loose or something.

You have to whack Joel twice before he goes unconcious.

"S'what ya' get for almost takin' my eye out!"

While he's still asleep, you take this opportunity to cut the jeans he's wearing off of him. You carefully unbutton the green and red flannel he was wearing and slip that off of him fully intact.

Once he's fully secure, with a new restraint around his chest to keep him fully pinned down to the chair, and the bandanna and tape back around his mouth-- you shut all the lights off, every single one, and leave him down there to think about what he did.

He's gonna learn to play nice, and if he wants to play rough first... so can you.

The air is thick with tension and stench of his sweat and fear.

The big-guy should be kind of scared- you didn't want it to come to this, but he just cannot participate nicely!

You circle your Mister-man slowly, drinking in every detail of him. His broad chest heaves with ragged breaths, muscles taut and straining as he fights against the restraints for the thousandth time.

No matter how hard he struggles, he cannot break free. Oh boy. Mister-man has some big feelings about it, and he's trying to let you know.

He is struggling— like, so fucking hard, against his bonds that tether him to the chair, that are cutting deep into the skin on his wrists. It's unfortunate, but he keeps wriggling around! If he just stopped, it'd all be fine!

You lean in close, pointing to your right eye, which is still black and blue, but thankfully not as swollen anymore, and frown at him. "This hurt!" You exclaim. "It hurt so bad, and you said you were gunna play nice. Why'd ya' lie t'me?"

His eyes are blown wide with fury and desperation. But he cannot respond, not really, his voice is saying things, but it's muffled by the duct tape stretched tight across his mouth.

He's still clad in only boxer shorts, a thin gray t-shirt, and socks, he looks vulnerable and exposed.

It really shouldn't be so hot-- but it is. You can't stop thinking about what he said the other night.

"Take what'cya want from me, sweetheart. Whenever you want it."

You wonder if he really meant that, because he punched you in the face right after.

But... he got excited! He wanted it, Mister-man kissed you first.

Oh Sug, he's down bad.

Please kill him. Shoot him right now, then you can just move to a different part of the mall. It's very simple.

He's really mad; which makes no sense! He punched you right in the eye! What is he mad for!?

"I thought after three weeks you'd be begging me to take you upstairs, Mister," you purr seductively, taking a step behind him, out of his line of sight. "Instead you hit me!?" You give Joel a good thwack against the side of his head with your open hand.

Not enough to really hurt him— that's coming soon— but enough to let him know to cut the shit. It's getting old, and now you want a fun, willing participant to play with you… and not someone who is going to act like they don't like… all this.

The perfect basement office of an old mattress store in an abandoned mall about a two hour hike outside of what used to be Jackson, Wyoming?

There's no spores, there's no mildew or stink! It's clean, you make sure to keep everything so clean for him.

Despite his insessant pestering about meat for some reason, he's well fed! He gets to drink whenever he wants!

Why is he so upset!?

Joel grumbles something from behind the duct tape and it's honestly lost of deaf ears because you don't care for what he has to say right now, it's never nice or sweet. It's always mean— that's why he's got the duct tape on.

Soon.

Soon the big-dumb-idiot will be singing your name, happily, and without restraints.

He's just gotta wear something else first.

You slip the shock collar around his thick neck while you're still behind him.

He doesn't like it, at all. He thrashes and writhes, and makes a desperate, pleading groan from behind deep in his throat.

"Well, you wanna act like all them other dogs out there, you're gon' get treated like one," you press a kiss to the top of his skull, and pull back before he can rear his head forward and smash it against your nose.

He's going to try-- he always does.

Slowly, you wind your way around him, trailing a finger along his sweat-slick forehead and crawl into his lap. He struggles at first, until he sees the remote in your hand.

"Gonna zap all the bad outta you… make you perfect for me." You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Have an idea...for how you can hug me-- and not hit me."

Joel mumbles something else, muffled through the duct tape. It doesn't really matter what he's saying, all that matters is how warm he is. How he makes you feel so safe and comfortable.

It's easy now, with the threat of being zapped, to rest your forehead against his, and nuzzle the tips of your noses together.

"You gunna be good for me, Mister-man?" It's a purr as you press a kiss to the duct tape covering his mouth. "Or am I gunna have to train you how to be good?"

omg this might be the longest tag list i've ever done let me know if you want me to take you off, add you, if I forgot you-- I'm SORRY!!!

TAG LIST: @pedrospookie @gothcsz @joelmillerisapunk @sp00kymulderr @paleidiot @goodvampykitten @rosebuds-and-moonlight @diabaroxa @zhazy-blog2 @almostempty @xdaddysprincessxx @tobethlehem @lilac-boo @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @rav3n-pascal22

#kidnapped!joel miller #joel miller x reader #crazy!reader #dead dove fic #smut and violence #a little fluff #joel's dirty fucking mouth #joel miller tlou #Jackson!Joel #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #eventual smut #eventual angst

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clockwork-ashes · 3 days ago

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All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XXXII

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: An update!!! Thank you to everyone still following along <3 A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds / @lady-of-tearshed / @what-about-elvenis / @gameafoot /

Elain was warm, wrapped in the gentle embrace of the morning light that streamed through the windows. She kept her eyes shut, remained entirely still, but could not help the smallest of smiles from tugging the corners of her lips upwards.

Lucien’s hand was on her back, tracing delicate patterns along her skin like it was a canvas, his touch light and careful. Every brush of his fingers felt like an unspoken promise, a reminder that he was there should she need him.

She hummed, a soft melody of contentment, as if her very act of breathing was tied to his presence. The scent of rich vanilla lingered, inviting. Lucien’s fingers danced along her spine with a tenderness that made her chest tight, a sensation so familiar, so comforting, that it made her feel safe in a way nothing else could.

Elain savoured the intimacy of the moment, the quiet peace, the feeling of his warmth against her. She turned slowly, tilting her chin up so she could look at him. Lucien’s russet eye was filled with affection, his steady gaze stripping her bare. His hand slipped effortlessly through her hair, fingers threading through the curls as he tucked a strand behind her pointed ear.

“Good morning,” she whispered, her voice thick with sleep, slipping between them like a secret. She smiled, and without a thought, closed the distance separating them. Leaning in slowly, Elain’s lips brushed against her mate’s, gentle as the rays of a summer sun dusting the horizon.

Elain felt Lucien smile, her teeth grazing the scar that cut through his full bottom lip. He pulled her so that she was laying on top of him, her hand coming to rest on his chest, her nails leaving marks on his skin. Lucien kissed her in a way that made her feel like the most precious thing in the world, unhurried.

Elain shifted, the sheets around them both rustling with the movement. Lucien cupped her face, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw with the kind of reverence that made her pulse quicken. It was as though he were committing every detail of her to memory. She did the same, the fingers of her one hand tugging at the soft strands of his silken hair, pulling him into the kiss, always closer.

The initial softness gave way to something more urgent as the kiss deepened, became more consuming. His lips brushed against hers with a fire that spoke of longing, reminding Elain of a time when there was only a quiet yearning between them. Her fingers tightened against his chest, feeling the steady, insistent rhythm of his heartbeat. She could hear it clearly, felt it along the unbreakable thread that kept them tethered to one another.

Lucien’s hand snaked along her waist, earning a gasp. His tongue brushed against hers with slow deliberation, a tantalising glide that made her shift against him in search of friction. The taste of him was intoxicating, making her forget about everything else.

A soft, breathy moan escaped her lips, a sound of satisfaction and surrender, as the kiss stretched on, time bending around them. Every touch, every breath, had her wanting more, as if it were simply instinct to want someone so wholeheartedly.

When Lucien finally pulled back, it was deliberate, his golden eye whirring. The russet one was dark with desire, gaze still locked on hers. His lips curved into a fleeting smile, one that made her heart flutter even as they both paused for breath, their chests rising and falling in tandem.

“I have something for you,” Lucien murmured, his voice low and velvety, almost teasing, though there was something darker beneath it. There was a flicker of something else in his familiar features, something unreadable that made Elain’s heart skip in a way that felt both thrilling and unsettling.

Elain, still flushed from their kiss, smiled softly, though the expression felt thin, fragile in the face of the growing tension between them. “What is it?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly, curiosity battling with an instinctive unease. Part of her still clung to the warmth of their closeness, but another part felt an odd shiver crawling up her spine, a warning.

Lucien reached behind him, grabbing something from the bedside table, the muscles of his shoulders tense despite the simple gesture. When he retrieved the object, Elain’s attention snapped to it with an almost magnetic force. A small, square box lay in his broad hand.

Her heart lurched in her chest, the sensation so sudden it took her breath away. The box shimmered in the morning light, catching the faint glow of the sun like it was somehow alive. The box seemed to pulse with an energy that made the very space between them vibrate, as though it were waiting for her to reach out and touch it.

It was jet black, smooth and polished, its surface glossy and cold. No seams, no edges, just a perfect, flawless square, like a piece of obsidian carved by an unseen hand. At the centre, a small lock caught her attention. Silver, intricate, delicate. It was shaped like a twisting vine, its tendrils curling in on themselves with a fluid, serpentine grace.

The lock itself seemed to shimmer in and out of focus, almost as if it were breathing, its presence humming with a strange and disquieting energy. It beckoned her, silently, and Elain felt her body tense in response.

Her breath caught in her throat. She could not look away. A cold, gnawing sensation curled in her stomach, unsettling, familiar. It was a feeling she was unable to place, something ancient and forbidden, and it gnawed at her insides like a hunger she could not satisfy.

The temptation to touch it, to open it, was overwhelming, a whisper in the back of her mind. It was as if the box had a will of its own, and that will was beginning to seep into her thoughts.

Lucien must have noticed her silence because he shifted, his brow furrowing in concern. “Elain?” His voice was soft now, laced with worry, but there was something in his gaze distinctly unfamiliar, deepening the unease blooming in her chest. “What’s wrong?”

She did not answer immediately. The pull of the box was too strong, its presence consuming her thoughts, drowning out the sound of his voice. Her fingers twitched, itching to touch it. And then, without thinking, she reached out, tentative, her hand drawn forward by an invisible string.

Her fingertips brushed the side of the box, and the moment her skin made contact, a shock of ice shot up her arm, stabbing through her veins suddenly. The cold was unnatural, sharp and biting, as though the warmth of her own body was being ripped from her. She felt it crawling up her wrist, over her shoulder, sinking into her chest like a cold hand clutching her heart.

Elain flinched, her breath catching in her throat, but the pull of the box only intensified, growing stronger with each passing second, until she felt as though she were drowning in it.

“Lucien…” she whispered, her voice trembling, barely audible, nearly foreign to her own ears. A tremor ran through her body, her fingers still aching to touch the box, the need gnawing at her. Something was wrong, so very wrong, but the box was all she could think about now, its hum like a lullaby in her mind.

The room began to distort, as if the fabric of reality was unraveling. Her surroundings blurred into a thick, oppressive darkness, stretching around her like a vast, unending ocean. The comforting weight of Lucien’s presence seemed to slip away from her, the sound of his heartbeat fading into silence.

I can hear your heart through the stone.

Elain reached for Lucien immediately, but he was already too far, slipping from her grasp like sand through her fingers. The warmth of his touch, the safety of his embrace, dissolving.

The box loomed larger now, its edges sharp as a blade, its pull undeniable. The world around her shattered like glass.

A sudden splash of cold water hit Elain’s face, yanking her from the depths of the dream. She gasped, her body jerking upright, heart hammering in her chest as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Vassa was hovering over her, face tight with concern, and Lethe stood just a bit further away, the sleeves of her dress damp and a satisfied glint in her dark eyes. Elain's heart still raced, her body trembling from the phantom chill of the onyx box, the coldness of it that lingered on her skin like a curse. The dream had been entirely too real for her liking and it was decidedly not one of her own visions.

“What happened?” Elain managed to ask, her voice breathless, dazed. A gentle wind blew, howling softly as it weaved between the forest’s trees. Her curls were wet, hanging limply around her shoulders.

Lethe’s eyes narrowed, looking at Elain as if she were a puzzle meant to solve. “Are these episodes rather normal in the Night Court?”

Elain glanced at her, lifting her chin stubbornly. She sniffed, “I’m not sure what you mean.” Perhaps it was childlike, but there was a part of Elain that was secretly very pleased that Eris had stayed true to his word and had not mentioned her visions to his friend.

Vassa shot Lethe a sharp look, though there was no real venom in the interaction. “I told her to stop throwing water at you,” she said to Elain with an apologetic shrug.

“It woke her up, didn’t it?” The other female snapped, crossing her arms. In a fluid motion, she sat on the cold ground in front of Elain, her skirts a perfect cloud.

Elain wrinkled her nose, an ice cold drop of water making a frozen path along her jaw. She swiped it away with her palm, frustration building up inside her. “This was not a normal dream,” she emphasised, looking at Vassa who would know the underlying meaning of her words.

Lethe snorted, but any harsh remark was cut off by the human queen as she spoke quickly and with purpose.

“All the women here have dreams like that,” her blue eyes were dark as the night sky as she ran a hand through her hair, tugging on a strand for the briefest of moments. Her strong voice dropped to a whisper that only a fae ear could catch without trouble. “Some of them say that sleep belongs to Death’s domain.”

Elain rubbed her temples, trying to bring herself back to the present, but the sensation of the onyx box and the crushing urge to open it lingered.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Lethe muttered in response to Vassa’s comment, a nervous edge to her tone.

Before Elain could retort, the silence around them was shattered by a voice, smooth and chilling, that slithered from the shadows. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

The words froze the air in the open space, their coldness crawling along Elain’s skin. Her blood ran icy, her heart skipping a beat as she turned slowly, every nerve on edge, to face the forest behind her.

Elain saw him then—emerging from the darkness.

Koschei.

He stood tall, pale skin drawn tight over his bones like something long forgotten and lifeless. His hair was dark, unruly and soft. The curls clung to his shoulders, just a shade darker than the black cloak he wore. His teeth were too sharp, his smile was too wide, too knowing, as if the world itself were a game to him, everything insignificant. It was Koschei’s eyes that truly froze her blood. No whites, only endless blackness, swallowing everything in its path.

Koschei did not move, not at first. He simply studied them with the cold gaze of a predator who had already decided his prey’s fate. When it became clear to him that none of them were about to move, he tilted his head like a lion.

“Comfortable?” Koschei purred, his voice dripping with mockery, but with an edge that was anything but kind. “I trust you find your accommodations... satisfactory?”

Elain stiffened, every muscle in her body tensing, her breath catching in her throat as she fought to maintain control. She could not look away from, could not spare the two women around her a glance.

Elain could feel Vassa inching backwards, coming closer with steps so small they were nearly imperceptible. She could even sense Lethe’s gaze flicking toward the shadows, although she did not appear as shaken as she perhaps felt.

Koschei’s smile stretched even wider, as if he could feel the fear rippling through the room, feeding on it. Slowly, he stepped forward, his movements unnervingly quiet, his feet making no sound as he walked on dried grass and broken twigs. He moved like a shadow, like something that shouldn’t have been there but was.

“I trust you’re well aware that no one knows where you are,” Koschei continued, his voice softening, as if savouring their discomfort.

Elain felt her throat tighten. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words stuck in her chest, lodged there by the weight of his presence.

Koschei turned his attention, facing her entirely with a knowing glint in his eyes. “Tell me, Elain Archeron," he said, his voice low and sweet, like poison in a fine wine. "Do you feel it? That enticing little pull?”

His words were a whisper, but they carried like a scream, wrapping themselves around her mind, twisting it. Elain clenched her fists, fighting the way her entire being ached to bring herself closer to him, to answer his twisted invitation.

Lethe grabbed her arm, sharp nails digging into skin until she drew blood. It was the only thing keeping Elain in place. Vassa breathed in, the sound thunderous.

Koschei turned his head, the only indication that he had moved his attention to the other woman, his smile never wavering. “You know she can’t resist, Queen of Scythia.”

The air shifted again, colder now, charged with something unspoken, something terrible. Koschei’s presence was suffocating, all-consuming. Elain could feel it closing in on her, pushing at the space between her shoulder blades, making it harder to breathe.

“You have no idea what you’ve awoken,” Koschei murmured, his voice carrying a dark promise. “And once the game begins, there’s no escaping it.” He took another step forward, and the shadows seemed to cling to him, moving with him as though they were alive. It reminded her of Azriel, of Velaris, and it instantly made her sick to her stomach.

“You are an intriguing little group,” Koschei continued, his voice smooth, almost pleasant, as though he were indulging them. “The mortal turned high fae, the cursed human queen, and the disgraced Autumn noble. Quite the unlikely assembly, don’t you think? I wonder…” He let the sentence linger in the air like a promise, his eyes glinting with a dark amusement. “Would it be easy to have you all turn on each other in this wretched place?”

Elain’s heart hammered in her chest, his presence bearing down on her, but she forced herself to speak. Her voice was steady, though there was a tremor in it she could not suppress. “What do you want?”

Koschei’s smile curled, slow and amused, his dark eyes never leaving hers as he moved closer. The air around him seemed to chill with every step, like frost creeping along her skin. “What I want,” he purred, his voice rich, velvety, “is something only someone like you—someone not of this world—can obtain.”

Elain’s brow furrowed, confusion clouding her thoughts as she tried to make sense of his cryptic words. “I am of this world,” she said firmly, though even as the words left her mouth, they felt weak, uncertain. An unsettling chill twisted in her stomach.

Koschei’s grin only deepened, a flash of too-white teeth in the dim light. “No, you are not,” he murmured, almost as if to himself, but loud enough for her to hear. His voice carried a teasing, dangerous edge, like he was enjoying some secret she was not yet privy to. “Not truly. You carry something inside you… something that does not belong here.”

His gaze flicked to the shadows around them, and a terrible certainty settled in her gut, like she was standing on the edge of something vast, something dark, and she was about to fall. Koschei turned back to her, his eyes bottomless pits, as if he could see all the way into her soul and she to his.

Her mind scrambled to understand. “What do you mean? I’m not—”

Koschei’s hand moved dismissively through the air, cutting off her words with a casual flick, as if brushing aside a speck of dust. “You may believe you are,” he said, his voice thick with mocking pity, “but you are not.” His smile was sharper now, his eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of a cat toying with its prey.

The room felt colder, heavier, as if his words themselves had frozen the air. Elain’s heart thudded painfully, a frantic beat that seemed to echo in the silence.

Koschei stood still for a long moment, his presence an oppressive force in the room. He turned his head slowly, making it clear that he was turning his gaze from Elain to Vassa, to Lethe, as if considering them.

The silence stretched, suffocating, before he spoke again, his voice low and ominous, a whisper of something dreaded. “I’ll give you time to think on it.” He took a step closer, his form casting a long shadow that seemed to reach out toward them. “Don’t take too long. I’ll return at dawn.” Lethe sneered at his attention, but the unspoken threat between them was as clear as daylight.

A chill settled in Elain’s bones. Her stomach twisted into tight knots, and despite the words she wanted to speak, her throat was dry, her body still.

Koschei lingered for a moment longer, and without another word, he turned, his movements fluid and soundless, as if the very shadows were swallowing him whole.

As he disappeared into the darkness, Elain exhaled shakily. She knew it was as clear to Vassa and Lethe as it was to her, there was no escape.

Elain had no choice but to face whatever game Koschei had set in motion.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain archeron x lucien vanserra #vassa acotar #koschei acotar #eris vanserra #ashes writes sometimes #all you have is your fire

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noonew1lleverask · 20 hours ago

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Love and Loathing

Y’all, I’m posting again. TWO NIGHTS IN A ROW! I don’t know what’s taken over my body, but I’m loving this rush of inspiration, and I hope you guys are, too. This one is more concise because I locked in this time.

Description

You didn’t expect this when you joined the BAU. A young man by the name of Spencer Reid had captured your heart, with no intention of giving it back. You were obsessed at first, simply adoring his mind and aching to know every wrinkle and fold. Then, it deepened into… what? Yearning? Love? You weren’t sure, and you hated it. You were meant to be smarter than this, yet here you were: deep in a pit of self-loathing, all because of this… boy wonder. How will you cope?

Spencer Reid x gn!reader, second-person pov, fluff? angst? No smut🫶

Word count: 1700

Character count:9476

Emotions of wild proportion typically sat snugly beside each other, nestled in arms strong and steady, and under this veil of affection, daggers were pointed at their backs. Under constant threat, love could turn to hatred so easily.

Falling is an unstoppable action. Gravity is cruel as it pulls on your body, demanding the ground to meet you in a forced hug of one-sidedness.

You crashed to the ground when you met Spencer Reid. He was something entirely novel to you, this man. He stood tall at 6’1, with a steady set to his shoulders you frequently found hunched over books. He smelled of something light and sharp, a slip of pine into your every day life, like slowly introducing a new tea into your mornings, adding goals to the end of the week. Unsure how, but utterly grateful, Spencer Reid had become something important to you; pivotal to your mental and physical state. The dependency you felt towards him was unhealthy, and you knew this, but you couldn’t… stop.

The praise he’d deliver to you filled your veins like heroin. It was addictive. The smiles slipped to you across the round-table were consumed greedily, savored like a decadent truffle on your tongue. Everything about the man enamored you. You could have said it was love, but that was jumping the gun by then. You simply found him… incredible, to put it lightly. A genius in the FBI; his mind was a labyrinth you were foaming at the mouth to understand.

Over a brunch with an old friend, your newfound passion for the man was addressed.

“You talk about him like he’s a god or something,” she commented, angling her fork to sink into the corner of the syrup drenched toast on her plate, covered with glistening fruits sitting on a pillowy bed of whipped cream. She scooped up a dollop of whip cream onto her fork alongside the triangle of french toast, and shoved it into her mouth.

“I mean.” You hated when she spoke with her mouth full, but kept your lips glued. “How special can this guy be?”

You wanted to tell her exactly that. Your teeth chattered with restraint as you held back from jumping onto the table and shouting your praises over this man.

God, what had you become?

Late evenings in the bullpen had become a creature comfort to you. You weren’t even sure why. Actually, you were. You were very sure, you just didn’t want to admit how cold your apartment had become, how deep the wound of loneliness had uncomfortably grown. The bullpen carried a lingering warmth from the camaraderie of the day, and you relished in it when you could. Which was a lot.

Most nights were spent alone with the soft yellow of your desk lamp, but some nights a few agents lingered like you. It made you wonder— hope, even— if they were as lonely as you. Maybe they would come up to you, ask you questions about your life out of the blue. You would hate that, you knew you would, but you wanted it anyways.

How the hell did you explain that?

Tonight was one of those nights, and this time, you didn’t wonder if this agent was lonesome. He was. His lashes shadowed his sharp cheekbones, dancing across his skin as they fluttered with each turn of the book laid flat on his desk. It was leather-bound and old, something that looked like it would crumble under the slightest pressure, which explained why Spencer handled it with grace and tenderness. Would he touch someone he loved like that?

You didn’t realize you were staring until he caught your eyes, blinking those dazzling eyes of his owlishly. You didn’t look away— you didn’t know if you could. “Good evening,” he said. Polite and casual, as he always was.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your heart was in your throat. Swallowing, you steeled your nerves and replied, “Good evening.”

Spencer looked between you and his book, debating, before he finally closed his novel, lowering the cover with trembling fingertips. “You stay late a lot.”

Astute observation, Einstein.

“I do,” you confirmed.

As expected, he asked, “Why?”

Why? Because I cannot go home to a dark apartment. I cannot see the couples dancing on the streets, their laughter echoing up to reach my balcony like a taunt. Because I’m a lonely fool who’s hopefully in love with you, when I don’t even love myself.

“My heating’s broke,” came your answer. You were a good liar. You’d honed the skill after years of family gatherings, of friends who looked past the glassy shine of your eyes. “It should be fixed soon, though.”

“Your heating’s been broken for… two weeks, and you’re just now getting it fixed?” He sounded skeptical, his fingers tracing the binding of his book.

Refusing to answer, you instead questioned him. “Why stay after just to read a book?” You shrugged your shoulders casually. “You can do that at home, can’t you?”

The smile that grew on his lips was deadly to you. It was teasing and playful, something boyish that gave you the inane urge to shrivel up and die. “My heating happens to be broken, too,” he answered.

If you were a more hopeful person, with just an edge more delusion, you’d believe he was flirting.

Returning his smile, yours was more tentative and practiced. “Guess we’re both in bad shape, aren’t we?”

“I guess we are.” His gaze was scrutinizing, and you wanted to crawl under your desk to hide from it, regressing to a childlike state to shy away from the millions of questions dancing in his eyes. Was this meant to be an interrogation, or casual conversation?

You didn’t say anything more after that. He went back to his novel, reading at an abnormal speed as per usual, and you back to your work. You always had work to do; files upon files because you all but begged Hotch for them. Cold cases were excellent distractions. Field reports were less interesting, but your writing was consistently formal enough to persuade Hotch to deliver you more work.

The night seemed to stretch on, the ticking of the clock overwhelming as it echoed in your ears. Your eyes grew tired, which was the tell-tale sign that it was time for you to go back home to your apartment. You sighed, rubbing your eyes, and the action Drew Spencer’s attention.

“Going home?” He stood from his desk, taking up his coat and sliding it over his long arms.

The swift eagerness of his actions startled you for a moment, and you stuttered, “Uh, y-yeah, I am. I can’t really blink without my eyes burning anymore, so…”

His brows drew together in concern. “Your eyes are probably dry. The air conditioning in here is… aggressive.”

You hummed in reply, slowly pulling your body from your chair. It was like picking up a cat, but your own body. You felt the pull of exhaustion in the backs of your calves, threatening to pull you down to the floor. You refused to let it win, because you’d rather be shot by a psychotic UNSUB before falling apart in front of Spencer.

Suddenly, he was behind you as you threw your coat over your blouse, which caused you to jump. He sheepishly grimaced, cheeks flushing. “Sorry.” His satchel was tossed over his shoulder, sagging into a curve with the weight of the items inside. Books you assumed.

“I’ll walk you out.”

You quickly turned him down. “Oh, no, Reid. I’m fine, really. I can—“

“I’ll walk you out. It’s no problem.” His tone was final, and it made something in your stomach twist with an unpleasant pleasantry you hated yourself for relishing in.

Your answer was meek. “Okay.”

He held the door open for you on your way out to the bullpen, allowing the glass door to fall shut behind him as he sped up to match your pace. He pressed the button for the elevator, the down arrow flashing orange.

He stood beside you, his hands in his pockets, as you waited. You stood beside him, hands twisting together in front of you, eyes on the metal doors, watching your blurrier reflections, as you waited.

“I lied about my heating.”

You didn’t look over at him, but you were sure he heard your heavy exhale.

“And I’m sure you lied about yours too.” Partly true. It didn’t surprise you that he saw through your lie like glass. Right now, you felt like you were being pressed against glass, watching the scene through an out-of-body experience.

His feet scuffed the floor next to you, nervously shifting. “I know why you stay late, and I… relate. I understand what it feels like to enter your home but feel like a stranger to it.”

You dared to turn your head, and he was already looking at you, his chin tilted slightly to fully meet your gaze. And, God, you were hooked. There it was, that rush of adrenaline again, a high you would surely crash from the minute your door locked behind you.

Something was intense there in his gaze, heady. You could get drunk off of it alone, and you were sure you were. Your legs turned to jelly, and your fingertips numbed as you clenched your hands together.

“I know your apartment’s heating is fine, more than fine, considering your income and the area you live, but…” A shy smile pulled at his lips. “Let’s pretend you’re freezing, so… you can come over to mine? And I can offer you some midnight take out to warm you up?”

Your heart raced in your chest, threatening to burst free from your body. That wouldn’t be pleasant. It’d be disgusting, and would drive Spencer further away from you than a father from his family.

Feeling escaped your limbs, but you knew if you did collapse out of sheer… disbelief, he’d catch you. His arms were lean and steady, like tree branches, and you wondered how they’d feel wrapped around your body.

Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, maybe immediately after your reply, you’d know.

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

(Part 2 of Spencer’s POV?)

Thank you so much for reading! Have a wonderful night, day, afternoon— and know you are so incredibly loved by me, God, and so many more people you have yet to meet! THANK YOUUU!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid angst

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ayeyolooo · 2 days ago

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slow to anger, and slow to speak.

hiii my babies! so i’m trying something new:) i’m going to put the title then the bible verses that’ll be getting used, meaning im going to have different scenarios and im going to incorporate how to use the bible verses in your everyday life! but with the characters of course :) this is a bit long!

proverbs 15:1 , james 1:19-20 and colossians 3:13

part 1 (this is part 1 ) part 2

you and choso argued with eachother very little. but when the both of you did argue.. it wasn’t nice. you were a bible driven girl and choso was a God fearing man. No that didn’t make the both of you perfect, in fact the two of you fell short of Gods glory on countless times. One of the times being right now.

The two of you were arguing over choso being extremely close to nobora while choso was upset with you for always hanging around megumi. It was just a whole misunderstanding though. Nobora went to choso when she needed advice on her relationship with megumi, while megumi and you were the best of friends.

“NO CHOSO YOU’RE ALWAYS AROUND HER, EVERYTIME IM NOT WITH YOU , YOU’RE WITH HER.” you shouted. choso jerked his head back in offense to that. “yeah like you don’t be up under megumi y/n, man get outta my face.” he sucked his teeth and continued to play 2k.

“That’s not fair choso.. you know good and well i go to him for everything, i go to him for advice and i go to him to ask about things that you like since you’ve known him longer than i’ve known you.” he just looked at you. “honestly y/n this is getting tiring and it’s like you don’t try to hear me out or anything. you just be fast to talk, and you stay yelling, and i’m simply not going to put up with this.” he simply shrugged and turned his game off. “what do you mean?” he shrugged his shoulders. “exactly what you take it as, i don’t want to be with you because i’m unhappy, here with you. You don’t care about other peoples feelings, you don’t care about half of the stuff that i care about.” he bluntly pointed out. which was not true.

you cared for him, and he was speaking out of anger. your heart dropped at his choice of words. you only yelled because you care. him acting careless was painful. choso picked up his keys and walked out of your room. you followed behind him. “wait where are you going are we going to talk it out?” you grabbed his arm and followed him to the door. he just looked at you. “no i don’t want to talk anything out with you, until you learn how to stop talking backwards and out of your butt then you can hang this relationship up, you make me unhappy and i’m tired of it.” he harshly snatched his arm from you as your heart started to beat fast, all of this happened too fast.

he slammed the door in your face , as you allowed warm tears to travel down your face. your throat closed up as you walked passed the living room where yuji, megi, gojo, nobora, inumaki and panda was residing at. yuji and megumi was playing madden together as gojo, inumaki, panda and nobora was playing uno. laughed erupted in the living room as loud chatter filled the room.

since the stairs were connected to the living room everyone seen you run up the stairs with your hand on your mouth. “y/n?” megumi called out. he was about to stand up and follow you but gojo just shook his hand and placed his hand on megumi’s stomach lightly pushing him back. “give her some time, i’ll go up there in a minute.” gojo reassured megumi , megumi clenched his cheek sliding his tongue across his top teeth before nodding and sitting back down.

he didn’t like the fact that his bestfriend was crying. Or sad, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Gojo heard everything, but he stayed quiet , not wanting to be in your business, but it seems like he needed to be a father figure at the moment. he didn’t want his children fighting. although gojo wasn’t your real dad, he acted like one to everyone which is why he cared so deeply about everyone. gojo made his way up the stairs hearing your soft sniffles and hearing the voicemail from your phone. you just sobbed harder.

you weren’t trying to manipulate him or anything, when you feel like you aren’t being heard you had to elevate your voice, which wasn’t something that you were proud of. knock knock knock “y/n?” gojo trailed off. “hm?” he heard shuffling in your room. you opened the door and was met with gojo’s piercing blue eyes. “what happened why are you and pretty boy so upset with one another?” he laid on his side on your bed his shirt lifting up a little in the process. his feet dangled off the end of your bed as he just looked at you.

‘tek it.’ softly played on your tv as you began to explain to him what happened. “so choso and i gotten into an argument because i was trying to explain to him about my feelings and how i felt like him and nobora were getting a bit too close.” gojo nodded. “hmm, understandable but did you try letting him talk?” he tilted his head to the left. you just sighed in defeat and shook your head no.

“that’s your problem there y/n, you don’t allow him to open up, but then when he doesn’t want to talk about his feelings you get upset with him.” you just stood there looking dumb. “i know, and i regret it badly, i just wanted to talk it out.” you played with your fingers. “now im not gonna sit here and just pin you to be the bad person because he also does things, not just you.—“

“—and i’m going to talk to him about it, but as of right now you need to read proverbs 15:1 and james 1:19-20; really study it love.” gojo grabbed your pink bible and flipped to proverbs chapter 15 verse one. “here do you want me to read it to you?” you nodded. “okay.” he nodded before clearing his throat.

“A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” (proverbs 15:1) his voice was soothing almost as if your dad was reading you a bedtime story. he handed you your journal and a pen. “now really meditate on this word and see what God is telling you here.” he points to the particular verse. “i heard the front door close, i’ll be back soon.” gojo announced , before slipping out of the door.

A/N

heyyy guyssss!!! i hope you all like the new idea! i just wanted to write these so that i can be transparent with you all about being a christian! and how it isn’t always dandy and rainbows !! we too fall short and i have the bible verses to guide the characters(and you ofc😊!) and lead them how God says in his word.😽

#ayeyolooo #black y/n #black reader #x black fem reader #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #choso x black!reader #choso x reader #choso kamo

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fandomficsnstuff · 2 days ago

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Old Lady - 4

(Warnings: Some angst and then some SMUT and then a little fluff at the end)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were currently taking stock of the alcohol left after you and Happy raided the pantry, so to speak. You were currently counting bottles when the door slammed shut, your body flinching and you turned around, thinking it was the wind from some open window or maybe someone accidentally pushed it shut as they walked by. But no. It was closed on purpose and it was closed by the man currently in the room with you, your heart racing as you looked up at him before tearing your eyes away, turning back to the bottle and picking up your notepad and pencil. “(Y/N)-”

“We’re uh, we’re a little low on vodka so I should really go out and-” you cut yourself off as you felt gentle hands grasp your hips, his chest against your back and you actually felt yourself shaking, like a leaf, and he felt it. “Are ye scared ‘f me?” he asked softly and you couldn’t help but scoff, gently shaking your head as you looked down, eyes closed. “No, Filip, I’m not scared of you…” you admitted softly, feeling his hands carefully tightening around your hips “then why’re ya shakin’?”

“I-I-... I-I don’t even know” you admitted quietly, tears forming in your eyes as you felt his hands snake around your body and it took every ounce of strength you had to turn around and walk out of his grip, a hand on his chest to keep him apart. “Filip-”

“It’s ‘Filip’ now?”

“Chibs… I-... you’re married… you clearly love your wife… I-I know you can’t exactly return home but-”

“This is my home, love-”

“You’re married to a woman you still love, Filip…” you pointed out quietly, Chibs sighing softly “I don’t love ‘er-”

“No? Then why aren’t you divorced then? The way she held your hand in that hospital-”

“I didn’t know she was there until I woke up-”

“It’s not something someone does to just anybody, Filip… the way she looked at you… I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, and I understand that she’s the mother of your child, but you care for her more than you’ll admit to and I-... I feel stupid, I felt horrible seeing her in that hospital room with you, holding your hand like you were everything to her! I love you, Chibs, I think I’ll always love you, no matter what, but you need this to settle, I can’t-... it’s not a demand or choice I’m giving you, Filip… but I can’t be with someone who loves someone else, it feels wrong…”

“Are yer ashamed of bein’ with me?”

“What??”

“Happy says yer ashamed-”

“Happy should learn to keep his mouth shut” you snapped, staring up at Chibs with tears in your eyes before you forced yourself to look down. “It was meant to be a private conversation” you muttered to yourself, Chibs sighing softly, reaching for you but you moved around him, reaching for the door when Chibs turned you around and pushed you against it, his body nearly pressed up against yours as you stared up at him with wide eyes. “I don’t love Fiona” he stated softly, his hands cupping your face, staring down at you lovingly “Filip-” you were cut short as he pressed his lips against yours, tears slipping down your cheeks when you closed your eyes, arms wrapping around him as the kiss got more hungry. God, you missed this. You missed the way his hands ran down your frame, the way they gripped your hips roughly and pulled you against him, the way he pressed you against the door. It wasn’t long until you felt his hands place themselves on your ass, groping the flesh roughly, tearing a moan from your lips that he easily swallowed, his tongue invading your mouth, fighting for dominance with yours. You whimpered quietly as he pulled you by your ass, pulling you against his chest as his lips moved down your jaw and neck, sucking marks on your collarbone.

You gently wrapped your leg around his waist, his hand clutching your thigh, grasping at the flesh as though he’s been waiting to do this for a long, long time, the thought making you smile blissfully, your hands threaded through his hair as he kissed down your chest, practically ripping your shirt off of you, your back arching off the wall and into his face as he licked and sucked around your nipples, gently biting the flesh. You felt tears form in your eyes, holding him so close like this, his lips over your flesh, your arms around his neck, your leg wrapped around his hips. When Chibs felt and heard your breath stutter, he pulled back, seeing the tears in your eyes, your hands cupping his scarred cheeks without hesitation. He was so close you could feel his lips brush against yours as you spoke.

“I love you, Filip… I love you so fucking much…” you whispered, Chibs leaning down and kissing you. The kiss wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t hungry, it was soothing. Comforting as his lips moved against yours slowly, taking his time in showing you just how much your words meant to him. The only reason he parted from you was because you both needed to breathe, the tears still in your eyes as you looked up at him, unsure if you even wanted him to say something right now. “I love yer, love. Fiona��s the mother of mah child, but you… you’re the woman I love” he whispered, your lower lip trembling as he stroked some hair behind your ear, the strand having fallen in front of your face, his hand cupping your cheek lovingly “I may have once loved her, but Leannan, I love you. I’m gettin’ tha’ divorce” he whispered, your heart both soaring and plummeting as you softly shook your head at him “Filip-”

“I’m gettin’ that divorce, so I can put a ring on yer finger, be with ya properly” he added softly, you couldn’t help but smile, your hand covering your mouth as you grinned, hands trembling as tears threatened to spill down your cheeks “are you-... Chibs are- are you-”

“Don’t have a ring yet, love, but aye, I am” he stated with a smirk and without another word you flung yourself at him, kissing him passionately, arms wrapped around him, Chibs eagerly repaying the kiss, even as you parted from him to breathe, he tried chasing your lips with his own, making you smile at him “take me home, Chibby” you whispered, Chibs chuckled briefly “guess that’s a yes?” he asked smugly, a chuckle leaving your lips as you smirked at him “take me home, and I might say yes” you teased, Chibs gently putting you down, opening the door before picking you up, your legs wrapped around his hips as he carried you out of the clubhouse and towards his bike, your eyes meeting Jax over Chibs’ shoulder, a smile on your lips, tears still in your eyes as you smiled at him, Jax giving a brief nod as he smiled at the sight of you so happy. Chibs practically kicked the door open, carrying you to his bike, a laugh spilling from your lips as you clung to him desperately, your eyes closing in joy at finally holding him like this. Chibs placed you on the ground only so you could get on the bike with him, your arms wrapped tightly around his chest all the way home, the house you shared with him, your real home.

As you arrived home, Chibs picked you up bridal style once you were both inside, his arms wrapped around you as his lips found your lips as he headed straight for the bedroom, carefully dropping you on the bed, watching you bounce as you smiled up at him. He bent down and kissed you softly, so soft you barely felt it, and when he leaned away, you ran your hands down his chest, staring up at him with hooded eyes as you undid his kutte, slowly peeling the clothes from his body as he did the same with you. Once you were both naked you scooted up the bed, Chibs following, slotting himself between your legs that you wrapped around his hips, his lips back on yours as he ran his hands up and down your body, your arms wrapped around him, hands running along his back, over the tattoo that covered his back, the reaper who had introduced him to you to begin with, the reapers of Charming having happened to enter that café where you were, eyes meeting, unable to look away from each other. You smiled at the memory, eyes closed as you held onto him, moaning quietly as you felt his hands and lips all over you, he was about to move down your body when you held onto him, his eyes meeting yours with slight confusion. “I just want you, Chibs… close” you whispered, Chibs nodding as he met your lips, a hand between your bodies as he ran a hand over your slit, surprised to find you dripping already and without being prompted further he slowly slid into you, your mouth open in a moan as you reveled in the feeling of him inside you again, your arms scratching and clutching at his back as he instantly sped up his pace, his face hid in your neck, peppering kisses along the skin, until.

You flipped the two of you over when he was caught off guard, a smirk on your lips as you looked down at him, your hands running up his chest, over his shoulders, down his arms to his hands on your hips. You took his hands, leading them up to his side as you leaned over him, your fingers interlocking with his as you began to slowly rock your hips. You moaned against his lips as he struggled to allow you this moment of control and dominance over him, yet it made your heart flutter, how he willingly let you do something you rarely did. You leaned back up, hands still clutching his and you used it as an anchor as you swirl your hips around before bouncing on him even harder, eyes closed as you listened intently to his moans and grunts. Suddenly you felt him let go of your hands, your eyes opening as he sat up, holding you close against him, sitting up with you as he guided your hips in motion with his own, his cock twitching inside of you as your lips brushed against each other as you continued to bounce on him, his cock thrusting in and out of you at a slow and passionate pace. As much as you loved the rough, hard, fast and erotic experimental sex with Chibs, being fucked by him with someone watching, his hand on your throat, squeezing lightly, this, this was very different in the best way possible. It was intimate, loving, definitely the definition of ‘lovemaking’. You tipped your head back and moaned as his cock hit that soft spot inside of you, Chibs’ lips immediately sucking bruises and marks onto your neck and shoulders, your hands clawing at his shoulders to keep him as close as possible. The intimacy of it all slowly brought you closer to the edge, your hips begging to be more erratic, as was his own, the two of you still completely in tune with each other as you chased not just your own end, but each other’s as well, his lips sloppily tracing up your neck, over your throat, up your jaw as he began to pull you down on him more roughly, his grunts and moans let you know how close he really was, your head tipping forward again, your forehead against his as your brows furrowed, the knot in your stomach tightening, the coil being pulled impossibly tighter and caught completely off guard, you came. Your entire body shook as your orgasm washed over you, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth open in a silent moan as he continued to thrust in and out of you, hips erratic and sloppy until finally, finally he stilled inside of you, the two of you panting as you both basked in the afterglow of probably the most intimate sex the two of you had ever had. And it was amazing. It wasn’t rough, it wasn’t needy, it wasn’t heated and it wasn’t what any of you had done before, but it was in some way much better than you could ever imagine.

As you both slowly returned to reality, you felt Chibs leave delicate kisses along your throat and shoulders, your hands on his shoulders relaxing their grip, crescent moon shapes left on his flesh after your nails digging into his shoulders. His forehead rested against your shoulder as he caught his breath, his hands running along your spine softly, tracing the flesh with his fingertips, delicate and tender. “Tha gaol agam ort, tha gaol agam ort cho mòr tha e goirt a bhith às aonais(I love you, I love you so much it hurts to be without you)” he whispered softly, although you couldn’t understand scottish gaelic, you knew what he meant. You smiled softly, threading your hands through his hair, fingers barely touching the scar in the back of his head, a light tug making him raise his head from your shoulder, your eyes locked as you gave him a small, giddy smile. “Yes, I’ll marry you” you whispered softly before kissing him again. “I hate ter break the moment love, but we need to get back to the clubhouse, shite’s goin’ down ‘n I don’ want you ‘round here, unprotected” he whispered, a small nod leaving you as you let out a brief chuckle “okay… I love you” you whispered, kissing him softly before moving off of him, the feeling of him slipping out of you made you both moan but you left for the bathroom to clean up, knowing that Chibs was playing down the severity of ‘shit going down’, otherwise you’d happily go for round two.

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You knew he had gone to see her, he told you, yet your palms were sweaty and you could feel your heart race, eyes locked onto the bar counter as you stared at nothing in particular, the crowd of people barely doing anything to filter out that nagging voice in your head that was spouting theories as to what he was talking with her about… doing with her…

“He won’t do it, you know” you flinched at the voice, looking at Gemma as she smirked down at you, ever the confident woman, a shaky breath leaving your lips as you looked back down at the bar counter. “How do you know?” you asked softly, voice wavering, even as Gemma confidently sat next to you on a barstool “I’ve known Chibs for a long time, sweetheart, he wouldn’t do anything with her, he loves you” Gemma stated softly, yet you closed your eyes as you let out a shaky breath, a bittersweet smile on your lips. “How would I know?” you asked softly, Gemma tilting her head at you, giving you a sad smile as you looked up at her “that shit in your head? That’s just noise, sweetie. Men need to own their pussy, but women, us Old Ladies, we need to own their dicks” she stated bluntly, managing to make you briefly scoff in amusement. “And you’re owning yours. I’m surprised he hasn’t knocked you up yet with how in love with you he is” she added with a smirk, amused as she could tell you were getting flustered “I’m on birth control” you hissed, Gemma chuckling with amusement “don’t worry about him, sweetheart, he knows who you are, you’re his Old Lady, ring or not on that finger of yours” she added softly, your lips stretching into a smile as you looked up at her, and she could tell you were trying to hide how excited you were “actually… he asked me to marry him” you admitted quietly, Gemma smirking as she leaned closer, nudging your shoulder with her own “told you, you own his dick-”

“Gemma!” you tried scolding but she just smirked at you, making you laugh quietly as she wrapped her arm around you, pulling you against her side “I’m so happy for you sweetie” she stated softly and you leaned into her side, eyes closed as you sighed softly.

#SOA #SOA fanfic #Sons of Anarchy #Sons of Anarchy fic #Old Lady #Chibs Telford #Chibs #Filip 'Chibs' Telford #Chibs x Reader #Chibs Telford x Reader

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