#another far off fic that’s gonna take ages to do

[pedgito]

𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐅𝐔𝐋 | Joel Miller x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | Joel finds the perfect way to keep you quiet while he showers you with compliments.

author's note | i saw a text post ages ago that i cannot find that inspired this. here's a vaguely disguised new years themed fic and some pwp to celebrate. not to get sappy on a blowjob fic but i'm very thankful for this community and the ideas that have been shared, love you all <3

content warning | 18+ MDNI, jackson!joel, established dynamic, idiots in love, shy!reader, joel being a quiet lover in public but loud in private, this is a deeply emotional blowjob y'all buckle in, unprotected piv.

word count — 2k

“Am I gonna have to shut you up just so I can tell you how pretty you are?” Joel snarks, only half-joking.

You hated compliments.

Joel loved giving them.

It was a slow work in progress, trying to feel comfortable with the showering of words, the outward affection Joel showed in private. 

He appreciated that you weren’t big on public displays, enjoyed the idea of keeping you and this, all to himself.

But, he liked you—had for some time. It took months of courage before he could bring himself to admit it. It was after a long night of patrol, a grueling walk to your last stop. You had both collapsed in exhaustion on the dirtied couch in the lookout far west of Jackson, delirious with sleep when the words finally left his lips. 

Even then, as he spoke, your hands found their way over your face, the heat of embarrassment prickling your skin as you shied away from him.

He’s learned to do it in subtle ways—a smile, longing looks, a touch, learning that love could be translated in many ways, not just words.

Besides, he wasn’t all that good at words anyways.

You decided to drag him back to your house after the annual New Year's celebration in Jackson—Tommy insisted that it was something to celebrate.

Another year of survival, another year without detrimental loss. Every day was something to cherish, but the party was a way to take a weight off of everyone’s shoulders.

You and Joel had never nailed down exactly what you were doing—just that you enjoyed it, you liked him, and he fancied you. He said it all the time, even now as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

“You are so old-fashioned,” You snorted softly, helping him strip the thick winter coat down his shoulders, torn on one sleeve still from a fight with another small group. You had promised to stitch it up. You were good on your promises, he knows you’d get to it eventually. 

He separates from you briefly, placing it carefully over the barstool in your kitchen before he’s pushing you up against your couch, your ass pressing against the hard edge of the back, nearly tumbling as he presses his lips against yours again, your hands curving around the back of his neck as you kiss him back in earnest.

“Somethin’ wrong with that?” He teases, “I know an old man who’s real good at makin’ you scream.”

You giggle softly, “Hush,” You chastise him, allowing him to lead you blind until you both could land on the couch safely, straddling his lap as he worked at your jeans, fitting his hands underneath the denim and cotton of your underwear as he squeezed at your ass, cupping the flesh tight in his hands as you gasp, nudging your nose against his as you breath into his open mouth, “You and that mouth, I swear.”

Joel chuckles, eyes opening to yours closed, hiding your face away as you mouth at his neck, pressing gentle kisses into the skin as he squeezes at your ass harder, a moan slipping past your lips involuntarily.

“There she is,” He says with an air of wonder, like he’d just discovered something new, his overgrown curls tickling at your nose, “s’just me and you—don’t be shy.”

“I’m not—“ You argue, “you know I’m not.”

You widen your legs, grinding down against the growing length beneath the zipper of his jeans, leaning back as his eyes drag down your body, slipping his hands from your jeans to squeeze at your thighs, his bottom lip tucking between his teeth with your lazy rhythm.

“I know, baby,” Joel coos, “need me to fuck you? Don’t you?”

You nod fervently, “Please—Joel, please.”

Your lips part, perching forward to grip into the collar of his shirt as you lazy movements become more frantic, face contorting in pleasure as your tongue glides along your bottom lip, distinctly aware of Joel’s affectionate gaze.

“Fuck—never gonna get tired of that,” Joel speaks aloud, one hand rising to cradle your face as his thumb drags over you wet lip, “how pretty you look when you get needy—pretty all the damn time, but—“

You kiss him quick in an effort to silence him, his laughing blending into a groan as you bite down on his bottom lip, stripping your shirt over your head, tossing it aside before you’re reaching for his belt, loosening it while he licks into your mouth, the subtle taste of malt liquor on your breath.

It matched his own, sharing a drink with him earlier in the night as he hid away in the corner of the room, as he often did at parties, too eager to get his hands on you as he watched you work your magic, gracing your smile upon everyone that passed, keeping up small talk that Joel would rather not suffer through. 

“Got a request,” He tells you, speaking against your lips as you hum in question, “how much d’ya want me to beg to get those lips around my cock?”

You giggle softly, wordlessly you move toward the floor, working against his jeans before he’s helping you shove them down far enough that he can scoop his balls into his hand, rolling them against his fingers as he wraps his other hand around his cock, pushing his thumb over the head as he guides it into your waiting mouth.

It was always a stretch, even like this.

You apply a gentle kiss before your lips spread, the faintest taste of precum at the tip of your tongue before you’re guiding your mouth down his cock, the salty taste of the velvet skin around him, a musky but sweet taste to the opaque liquid gathered at the slit.

“Perfect, fucking perfect,” He breathes, running his finger through your hair as he pushes it back, his other hand hovering nearby, curling into a tight fist as you press your nose into the thick patch of curls at the base, “shoulda stuffed this mouth sooner, seems to do the trick.”

You gag against his forceful movement, burying the head of his cock into your throat so far his teeth clenched, leaving you effectively silenced.

“S’that what it took, a mouthfulla’ cock and you won’t stop me from complimentin’ you for once?”

Beggars can’t be choosers, he’d take it.

And such a pleaser you were, you had a job to do.

Usually he revels in the feeling, subdued and quiet while he watches you work, skilled hands and an exquisite mouth to match, he’d hit the jackpot somehow. 

“Come on, pretty girl,” He encourages, allowing you up for air for a brief moment as your spit slick mouth drools down his shaft, tears brimming your eyes, “fucking beautiful takin’ it all in like that—more?”

You nod, watching as he grips his shaft, tapping the mushroom shaped tip against your lips, teasing you as you slip your tongue along his shaft, guiding you back as you chase his movements.

“Work for it, baby,” He insists, “show me how bad you wan’ it.”

Impatience grows, you huff through your nose as you swat his hand away, wrapping your own hand around his cock instead, your mouth covering what your fingers couldn’t, your other hand cupping his balls, rubbing a single finger down the seam of his sack as you twirled your tongue around the dripping head, lapping up his cum at this slit.

“That’s right, lookin’ like a goddamn dream. Eyes on me, sweetheart,” He beckons, with you peeking through tear-stained eyes, silenced as your mouth is stuffed full of him.

Eventually, your tongue trails along the vein at the underside of his cock, reaching the seam of his sack before you’re rolling his balls along your tongue, sucking them between your lips with a wet noise that causes Joel to groan, his hand squeezing in your hair at the scalp.

“I would keep you like this for hours if you’d let me, wish you could see how fuckin’ amazing you look, gotta know how lucky I am to have you—I am, I’m so lucky, baby.”

In any other context, you would cry. 

It scared you, hearing the admission. The love Joel felt so immensely, the love that terrified you—because when things get too serious, they always go south. 

It was easier to keep things light—fun, simple. As much as you had found a home in Joel, nested in between his ribcage, around his heart—it was still constricting.

Physicality was easy to detach from.

Words, however, meant the world to you.

You couldn’t hear those words unless, in his heart, he truly meant them. Even then, it still terrified you. But, he had you now. Locked on his gaze, the words tumbling from his mouth like a dam finally breaking—you were done for.

“Stick your tongue out,” He orders gently, watching you move away to follow his order, rubbing the head of his cock over the wet, fleshy muscle, “always listenin’ so well, too,”

You feel the heat in your face return as you close your eyes to avoid his intense gaze, sucking him down eagerly as you shift from your haunches to your knees, hurrying your pace as he begins to fall apart, pathetic grunts of half pleasure and half plea filling the room.

Shamelessly, you swallowed him down again as he pressed against the back of your throat, holding yourself in place until he collapsed against the back of the couch, his hands tangled into your hair carelessly as you gagged, a distinct sound that brought Joel over the edge in an instant.

“Oh—oh, fuck. Darlin’, I fuckin’—“ His orgasm surges quickly to the surface, the warm of his cum spreading against your tongue as you swallow him down without hesitation, “God, I’m so in love with you,”

You can feel him shudder against your tongue, cock twitching as you remove him from your mouth, his chest releasing a sigh as he reaches blindly for your hand, silently begging you to come to him. You crawl slowly, careful as you position yourself over him again, his hand pushing your fallen hair away from your face as he pulls you in, breathing heavily into the lazy kiss he presses against your lips.

“Been tryin’ to tell you for so long,” Joel admits with a fond tone, “you’re always shuttin’ me down,”

“I’m sorry,” You admit softly, “S’just—words mean more to me than you think.”

“Oh baby—I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” Joel assures, “I’m not throwin’ that shit around lightly. I mean it—every fuckin’ bit.”

You let the conversation fall silent, eyes scanning over his relaxed expression.

“Is that what it took, though?” Joel teases, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, pressing against the plush skin, “Gotta shut you up with my cock to tell you all the nice things you deserve to hear?”

“It does help, doesn’t it?” You counter with amusement, his face cracking into a smile, the skin beside his eyes creasing with emotion as you laugh, his own mixing with yours.

“It does,” He agrees with a chuckle, pulling you forward gently to curl his hand around the back of your head and pull you into his chest, echoing a quieter, “It does.”

Still undressed at the waist, Joel nips at your skin, a tell-tale sign of his persistence.

“Slow down, cowboy,” You tease, “It’s almost midnight—can’t have you skippin’ out on our kiss.”

“Better yet, I can start it off inside ‘ya,” He bargains, a deal that seemed far too good to pass up.

Joel is eager in his attempts to get you undressed from the waist down, shrugging his shoes and jeans off completely before you straddle his lap, gripping his cock with a delicate hold, slipping it inside of you slowly, enjoying the contortion of Joel’s expression as your walls squeeze around him. 

You can hear the muffled celebration off in the distance as Joel whispers something unintelligible into your skin, nudging your shirt up high enough with his nose until he can get his mouth on your skin, aiding the slow bounce of your hips with his hands as he pants, “I love you too,” You admit, “f’that wasn’t already clear.”

“Crystal, darlin’—but it is nice to hear.”

There was no rush for now, enjoying the sensation of each other’s bodies in a way that consumed you both, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips as you spoke into his open mouth.

“Happy New Year,” You tell him, fighting through your own quiet giggle.

Joel nods in approval, humming, “S’right—Happy fuckin’ New Year.”

[ariestrxsh]

shy!sub!chris x babysitter!reader

˚₊ · »-♡→ content warning: smut, mommy kink, age gap (Chris is 22 & reader is 28), praise, masturbation, handjob, hair pulling, innocence corruption

˚₊ · »-♡→ summary: chris runs into his old childhood babysitter, and their innocent reunion takes a turn when the two can't deny the sexual tension between them.

This fic was inspired/requested by this ask. 🤍

If the age gap or the fact that the reader used to babysit Chris bothers you, then don't read this fic ! The ones that get it, get it, and the ones that don't, dont.

Baby Sitter (part one)

"No way! Chris Sturniolo?" Your familiar voice broke Chris' attention away from his phone, his blue eyes first scanning over your red heels, your black tights, and then the grey dress suit you were wearing paired with a long, open black peacoat.

He was leaned up against the side of an old brick building with one hand in his hoodie pocket to keep it warm, waiting for the bus home. "Oh, my god! Hi!" He exclaimed, his face lighting up when he recognized you.

"You're so big!" You declared, pulling him into a hug and ruffling his messy, brown hair. The warmth of his embrace brought you some solace from the nearly freezing temperature of this brisk, winter afternoon.

Chris caught a hint of the floral perfume you'd been wearing for the past decade, and the memories of when you were both kids came flooding back to him.

"You must've been this tall the last time I saw you," you told him, holding your hand out and gesturing about three feet from the ground.

"Oh, come on. I haven't been that short since I was eight years old. You babysat me up until I was almost twelve," Chris chuckled, playfully rolling his eyes.

You glanced him over one more time. Chris had always been a cute kid, but now he was a handsome man. You scanned over his slightly muscular build, his sharp jawline, and the bit of stubble he had coming in on his face from not shaving the past few days.

"Can't believe that was ten years ago. You look good," you complimented him. "So do you," he replied, his voice textured with a hint of lust as his gaze danced over your breasts and your long legs.

"You taking the bus?" You asked him, motioning towards the bus schedule. "Yeah, but my bus won't be here for another half hour," he shrugged, looking around at the traffic building up. "Maybe longer," he faintly added.

"I could take you home," you warmly smiled at him, tilting your head to the side. "Really?" He wondered, surprised by your kind gesture.

"Of course. Still live in the same house? I think I still remember how to get there," you responded, crossing one lapel of your coat over the other, folding your arms, and raising your shoulders to your ears to fend off the cold.

"No, actually. I moved into my own apartment last year. It's probably pretty far out of the way if I'm being honest. I don't want to waste your time," Chris nervously chewed on his lip, staring down at his black converse.

"Don't be silly, Chris. I don't have anywhere to be," you reached out and gently squeezed his arm, reassuring him that your offer was genuine. "My car's over in that parking garage over there," you motioned towards the large structure across the street.

"Okay, sure. Thank you," Chris said, pulling his hood over his head as the chilly wind started to pick up. You stuffed your hands into your coat pockets, and the two of you started slowly meandering over in that direction, your heels click-clacking against the pavement, and Chris' sneakers pitter-pattering next to you.

"So, you're all grown up now. Got your own place, got your own job.." you smiled over at him. "Yeah, I do. I have my own car, too, but it's in the shop right now," he sighed.

"Is it gonna be expensive to fix?" You wondered aloud. "A little, but on the bright side, I'm saving money on gas walking and taking the bus to work," Chris shrugged, the corner of his lip turning up in a weak smile.

"What are you doing for work?" You asked, glancing both ways before crossing the street. "Landscaping, construction, some basic handy-man work," he answered you.

"Is that how you got these?" You flirtatiously squeezed his bicep. He scoffed and laughed, his heartbeat quickening as your touch lingered.

"What do you do for work?" He asked, flipping the question around on you and taking the attention off of himself. "See that little window right there? I work at that law firm," you told him, pointing up at the tall building a couple blocks away.

"No way! You're a lawyer?" He assumed, lifting his eyebrows. "No, just a paralegal," you responded, laughing. Chris didn't really understand the difference.

He thought about making a comment about you being dressed way too hot to be a lawyer, but he bit his tongue, worried that it might come out wrong.

"Hey, you're not in a rush to get home, are you?" You stopped, turning to him. "No. No hurry," Chris replied, shrugging his shoulders and secretly hoping to spend more time with you.

"There's a coffee shop about a block away. How about we go grab a drink and get out of the cold for a bit?" You suggested, the chill of the air biting at the tip of your nose. "That sounds nice," Chris nodded, following your lead.

"So, how's your mom doing?" You wondered, peering over at Chris. "She's doing well. She misses you. You were her favorite babysitter, you know. She'd always call you first when she needed someone to watch me," Chris admitted.

"Good. That means you didn't tell her I let you watch scary movies with me and stay up way past your bedtime," you joked. "Nope. Still haven't told her to this day," Chris responded, winking in your direction.

"Good boy," you said, ruffling his hair again. Blood rushed to his cheeks, and his face turned a bit red with embarrassment.

You didn't mean for that moment to create so much sexual tension between the two of you, but your eyes met for just a second, both of you conveying a look of desire. You both glanced away just as quickly, letting the moment pass.

You cleared your throat before speaking again. "So your mom. She still working at the hospital?" You wondered, rubbing your hands together to keep them warm before nestling them back into your big coat pockets. "Yeah, still working long hours," he replied.

You lead Chris down an alley tucked between two tall buildings where you were temporarily safe from the windchill. Chris ran his fingertips along the cold brick as he turned the corner, the rough surface leaving him with both a strange and satisfying sensation.

A comfortable silence lingered between you as you meandered down the path, not wanting to fill each other in too quickly on your lives to keep the visit from being cut short.

The sounds of the city moved around you, traffic bustling and people clamoring about. The city was like that, everyone always onto the next thing. It seemed like you and Chris were the only ones dragging out your steps, trying to pass the time instead of racing it.

You turned another corner, leading Chris back out into the strong winds as you pushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear in an attempt to keep it from blowing wildy in your face.

Straight ahead tucked between an antique shop and a record store was the coffeehouse you frequented. You and Chris, once again, glanced both ways before crossing the street.

Despite the frigid air, Chris' palms had grown sweaty from his nervous energy. He felt like a little kid again in the presence of his pretty babysitter, who he'd always had a raging crush on, hoping you thought he was cool, or at the very least, not uncool.

He subtly wiped the perspiration off on the front of his jeans before reaching for the door with a shaky hand, holding it for you, and nodding for you to go through it.

The two of you shuffled into the warm, cozy lobby of the café, so warm that the first thing you did was remove your coat and sling it over your arm, prompting Chris' eyes to drop to the bit of exposed cleavage that peeked out over your neckline.

The ambience was just right, smooth jazz playing softly in the background, warm overhead lighting, and the hiss of milk being steamed to perfection. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans and sweet flavors wafted through the welcoming atmosphere.

Chris got a peppermint mocha, and you ordered a cortado, which Chris insisted on paying for, and you didn't put up a fight.

He'd always been sweet like that, even when you two were just kids. He was always holding doors open for you and waiting to eat his dinner until you'd taken your place at the table.

He was always considerate and gentleman-like, a product of his personality and his mother's good morals.

The two of you found a place to sit near the back next to a big window, and while the two of you were reminiscing on old memories, the server brought the two of you your drinks.

You thanked him, but when Chris' eyes landed on your coffee, his smile fell. "Hey, want me to go bring this back? I think they brought you the wrong thing," Chris offered.

"No, this is what I ordered!" You assured him. He stared inquisitively at your measly 4 oz drink, wondering what the appeal was.

"It's really good, Chris. I promise," you responded, reading his expression. "I'd ask for a taste, but I'd finish it off in one sip," he joked. You rolled your eyes, but you laughed along.

"So, are you still with Kyle?" He wondered aloud, staring down at your hands that were cupping your drink, searching for a wedding band or engagement ring.

"No," you told him, your hands retreating and falling into your lap. "He wasted my time, really. We were together for nine years and in the midst of our three-year-long engagement, he cheated on me," you scoffed.

"I knew I never liked that guy," Chris muttered, clenching his jaw. "I know you didn't. You'd always try to sit between us on the couch and interrupt us right when we were about to kiss," you recalled, the corner of your lip morphing into a faint smile.

It was hard for you to deny the little crush Chris had on you when he was a young boy, but sitting in front of him now in this coffee shop, admiring the way his features had aged like fine wine, you wondered if the tables had turned.

Chris bit back a smirk as he recalled a few times that he had "woken up" from a nightmare, pulling your attention away with your shitty boyfriend at the time so that you'd have to come to his rescue and comfort him. Kyle had even accused him of faking before.

"Kid always has a bad dream every time we're about to do it," he'd snarked at you once, pulling you back onto his lap, which caused a verbal disagreement to break out between the two of you.

"Kyle! You asshole! He's eleven! He's not thinking like that," You had whisper-yelled in response, pushing him away and following Chris to his bedroom to lull him back to sleep.

Chris had overheard the conversation from down the hall, but even now, over ten years later, he couldn't admit to you that most of the time, he was faking his nightmares.

No one had had the talk with Chris at this point, but he had a vague idea of what it meant when Kyle would stay the night, and he felt an incredible amount of jealousy when he would.

"How about you, Chris? You dating anyone? I bet the girls can't stay away from you," You flattered him, putting your drink to your lips and taking a sip.

He blushed and shook his head after drinking from his own coffee. "I've actually never had a serious girlfriend. Can't seem to get past the talking stage with girls," Chris nervously said, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh, well, there's nothing wrong with that, Chris," you reassured him, pitifully running your thumb across the back of his hand. You meant for the gesture to be reassuring, but Chris found it condescending. He jerked his hand back.

"You think I'm a loser, don't you?" Chris huffed, peering out of the café window. "Chris. Look at me. Of course, I don't think that," you responded, studying his facial expressions.

"Of course, you do think that. I'm a twenty-two-year-old who's never.." Chris began to say, but he cut himself off, fearing he'd already said too much.

"Oh! You've never..?" You asked, your voice started to trail off. He didn't answer you, but his face turned a deep red.

"Chris, there's nothing wrong with that. I just assumed.. I just thought.. I'm just surprised. That's all," you managed to get out, foolishly stumbling over your words and wondering how someone you'd known for so long and who was so much younger than you was making you as nervous as you were.

"Why are you surprised?" He asked, your assumption taking him aback. "You're just so hot," you accidentally blurted out, astounding yourself with how forward your comment was.

"You think so?" He asked, his eyebrows flicking up in shock. He blushed a little harder, but his previously embarrassed expression morphed into something softer.

"I mean, you're conventionally attractive. You're a total gentleman. You just need a little confidence, and you'd be unstoppable," you stroked his ego, taking a sip of your coffee.

"You think I'm hot?" He wondered, still stuck on your compliment, his lips curling into a flattered smile. "Don't make me say it again," you chuckled, rolling your eyes.

Chris narrowed his gaze at you while he took a sip of his peppermint mocha. "What else do you think of me?" He inquired, locking eyes with you.

"I think any woman would be lucky to be your first," you replied, reaching out and stroking the back of his hand again. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he relished in the soothing feeling of your thumb brushing against his knuckles.

"Any woman? Even you?" He suggested, surprising himself with the brief moment of confidence he found himself swept up in. The silence that followed his question was heavy, and the tension between the two of you was thick.

You wet your lips, studying his handsome facial features, but before you could answer, one of the coffee shop employees floated over to your table. They offered to take your empty cortado glass out of the way to which you pulled back your hand, nodded, and thanked them.

"I should take you home," you declared, softly smiling in Chris' direction. "Okay," Chris affirmed, taking his peppermint mocha to-go.

The two of you left the coffeeshop, putting back on all your layers before setting back out into the winter weather.

You made your way out the door, the whistling wind whirring past you as you wandered back to your car. You and Chris walked silently through the city streets and through the cobblestone alleys between the buildings that towered over Boston.

Your mind churned, worrying that you'd made the reunion awkward and quietly kicking yourself for your word choice in the coffeehouse.

"Here we are," you announced once the two you had reached the parking garage. You reached into your purse, retrieved your keys, and unlocked your car.

Chris turned to you with wide eyes, and his jaw dropped when he realized the black Mercedes was yours.

"Damn. When did you get rich?" He questioned you, opening the passenger side door and running his fingers along the dark red interior.

"I wouldn't say I'm rich," you scoffed, humbly shrugging before opening the driver's side door.

"I should've had you pay for my coffee," the blue-eyed boy joked, admiring the sleek look of your car and setting his drink in your cup holder. "Next time I will," you smiled at him as your engine roared to life.

You turned on your heater, and each of you shed a layer as the car started to warm up. "Alright, Chris. What's the address to your apartment complex?"

He read it off to you while you put it in your GPS. You carefully backed out of your parking spot and navigated your way onto the main road towards his place.

"So, I mean, it's been eleven years. What else has been going on in your life besides dumping Kyle and getting rich?" Chris playfully inquired.

"A lot, actually. After high school, I took a year off. Then when I went back to school and got my bachelor's degree in law. I worked at a few places as a secretary before finally finding this job about three years ago shortly after Kyle and I broke it off, and I've been making good money ever since," you told him.

"I even bought my first house last year by myself," you added, trying not to sound too cocky but unable to hide how proud you were.

"That's amazing. I love a strong, independent woman," Chris smirked, sipping on his coffee, his gaze lingering on you as you focused on the road ahead.

"How about you, Chris? What have you been up to since I last saw you?" You returned the question.

You spent the rest of the car ride catching up with Chris, getting to know him all over again. It was surprising and comforting how many things about him hadn't changed - his sweet and shy demeanor, his mannerisms, and his laugh.

The parts of him that did change, you liked - his matured features and his deep, sexy voice.

While the two of you were chatting and approaching an intersection, someone ran a red light, causing you to slam down on the brake pedal. Chris spilled his drink, sending coffee dripping down the front of his white t-shirt.

"Shit," he muttered. "Are you okay?" You asked, your heart racing while you tried to catch your breath. You pulled off onto the shoulder of the road to collect yourself.

"I'm fine. I just feel like an idiot for spilling in your car," Chris sighed, unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling his shirt off over his head.

"It's not your fault, Chris. It doesn't.. it doesn't even look like you got it anywhere besides.." You managed to get out as you motioned towards his shirt that was no longer on his body.

Your eyes dropped to his chest, his arms, and to his stomach. He caught you staring and smirked in your direction. You immediately pulled your eyes off him and placed them back onto the road in front of you, clearing your throat.

"Sorry about that," you said, half-apologizing for making him spill and half-apologizing for ogling him like a creep. "Don't be sorry," he paused. "About anything."

His eyes lingered on you, biting down on his bottom lip. He wondered if you wanted him as badly as he wanted you.

You turned down a few unfamiliar streets, following the GPS directions into the complex where Chris lived.

"Take this road all the way down, and you can park at any of those unmarked spaces on the left," he instructed you. You pulled into a spot and threw the gear shifter into park.

"Well, here we are!" You exclaimed, glancing over at Chris, your eyes dancing over his stature one more time. "Thank you so much for the ride. It really means a lot. So much better than taking the bus," Chris remarked, smiling at you.

"Hey, if you want, I can wash your shirt for you. I'm pretty good at getting stains out," you suggested, extending your hand and offering to take his shirt.

"I'd appreciate that. Thank you," Chris responded, handing it off to you and getting ready to get out of the car.

"Hey, wait! Before you go, let's exchange numbers. You know, that way I can return this once it's washed," you proposed. Chris agreed, trying not to sound too eager and reaching for his phone that was tucked into his pocket.

You swapped contact information with him, told him to call anytime, and ruffled his hair again.

"Hey. Do you wanna come inside? I can give you a tour," Chris offered, not wanting to say goodbye to you just yet.

"Sure," you nodded, cutting the engine and following Chris up the stairs to his place.

You couldn't keep your eyes off the muscles in his back. He placed his key into the lock, turning it until he heard a faint click. He pushed open the door and motioned for you to enter first.

It was a typical twenty-something-year-old man's apartment - clothes strewn on the floor, a few dishes stacked in the sink, and a couch in the living room pointed at a TV.

He had stacks of video games, naughty magazines, and a few empty soda cans scattered on his coffee table. His place was a little unorganized, but it wasn't filthy.

"Sorry about the mess," Chris apologized, scurrying over to the dirty magazines and stuffing them under his sofa cushion when he thought you weren't paying attention.

"Uh, I'll show you my room," he mumbled, leading the way to his bedroom door. His sheets were thrown lazily onto his twin-sized bed, and he didn't have much else in his room besides a wooden nightstand.

"If you need to use the bathroom, it's right there," Chris motioned towards the door across the hall. You followed him back out towards the front door.

"And the kitchen," he motioned towards the small room with the fridge in it. "I know it's not much," Chris shrugged.

"But it's your first place by yourself, and that's a big deal. I'm really proud of you!" You warmly smiled, pulling him into another hug.

Your fingerstips glided across his shirtless back, and blood immediately rushed to his dick.

"Thanks! It's relatively cheap, too," Chris remarked, pulling away and making over towards the couch in the living room.

He plopped down onto the furniture and pulled a throw pillow onto his lap, hoping he was being discrete. He wasn't.

You took a seat on his couch beside him, shifting uncomfortably about on his lumpy cushion. You decided to mess with him a bit.

"C'mon, don't look at those," he nervously whined as you reached under the sofa cushion, retrieving a few dirty magazines. Your lips curled into a devious smile as you flipped through one.

"You might be a virgin, but you're not that innocent, are you?" You cooed.

He buried his face in his hands while you sifted through the images of naked girls, half-expecting you to start making fun of him or tell him how disgusting he was for getting off to such content.

When you didn't, he peeked back up at you. You looked more intrigued than anything. You crossed your legs and squeezed them together as you imagined him rubbing one out while his dreamy, blue eyes struggled to focus on the page.

"Why don't you show me what you do with them?" You cooed. "Wh-what do you mean?" He timidly asked.

"Don't play dumb, pretty boy," you leaned in, whispering into his ear, gently planting a kiss on the side of his neck. "You know exactly what I mean. Show me."

His eyes fluttered closed, and his jaw fell open as he processed your request. "Uh huh," he nodded, his heart beating in his ears as his shaky, sweaty hand reached for the button on his pants.

"Say, yes, mommy," you sensually whispered against his flesh that was radiating heat. "Yes, mommy," he articulated, putting a lustful emphasis on the final word.

With your tongue licking a stripe up his neck, you heard the soft zip of his jeans being undone. You felt him start pumping away his length. You suckled gently on his skin.

"Ahh," a faint gasp snuck past his lips, his breath shallowing. You pulled away to catch a glimpse of what was between his legs.

"Wow," you purred, zeroing in on his swollen, mushroom-shaped head. Another pretty moan unfurled from his pink, parted lips while he caressed his sensitive tip.

"Look at that," you gasped, admiring the way precum started drooling from his slit while he played with it. "Good boy," you quietly praised him while his slender fingers were wrapped around his length, stroking it up and down at a quickening pace.

"I just know you fuck hard," you sinfully purred into his ear, his grip around his cock growing tighter. He threw his head back, giving you better access as you went back to suckling on his neck.

"Mommy, I need you," Chris relayed in a strangled moan, desperation seeping into his tone. "What do you need, Chris? Use your words, pretty boy," you cooed. A smirk played into the corner of his mouth as he listened to your praise.

"Show me what it's like to be touched by a woman," he quietly requested. "Where do you want me to touch you, baby? Right here?" You teased, gently tapping his tip with the end of your pointer finger.

"Yes, mommy. Right there," he eagerly affirmed. You gently caressed the back of the head, tracing his veins with your fingertips. You tightened your grip, replacing his own hand with yours.

He let go, letting you take the reigns as a needy whine drifted to your ears. "Yes, mommy," he replied.

You tilted his chin to face you, and you leaned in, locking your lips with his, his faint whimpers vibrating against your mouth.

He couldn't believe he was kissing you, his childhood babysitter, the woman he'd been fantasizing about for over a decade. He still wasn't convinced that this wasn't some sort of vivid dream or intense reverie.

You had one hand tangled in his hair and the other, gripping his length and pumping it at a steady pace. His hard cock involuntarily throbbed in your grasp.

"Look at me, baby," you whispered after you pulled away from the kiss, but only by a few inches. "Is it everything you wanted it to be, pretty boy?" You wondered, holding his gaze with your nose gently brushing against his while you tugged on his messy locks.

"Yes, mommy," he answered, his features and his voice saturated in lust. You looked into his pretty blue eyes while you stroked him faster and faster, feeling his cock twitch at the sensation.

He was so eager to be played with by you that he could barely contain himself.

You watched the muscles in his face tighten, his eyebrows knitting together and his eyes squeezing shut. He shuddered under your touch.

He clutched the couch cushion beneath him with both hands, curling his fingers and his toes as you brought him to climax.

A slew of guttural moans filled the room as he finished, his load squirting from his tip and painting his chest and his stomach, a bit of cum pooling into his belly button.

The warm, white substance dripped down onto your hand as you brought your movements to a standstill.

You released his soft, brown hair from your tight grasp, and he sank into the soft sofa. A satisfied smile crossed his face as he tried to regulate his breathing. He had never felt that much pleasure before.

Embarrassment flooded his system when he realized it took all of about four minutes for him to cum.

"I'm sorry I finished so fast," he mumbled breathlessly as he giggled and hid his face in his hands, reverting back to his shy nature.

"Don't be sorry, baby. About anything. You were such a good boy for me. Next time I'll show you how to last longer."

˚₊ · »-♡→ part two here

taglist: @bsturnzmtts @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @jassturn @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @sturniolosweets @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @moonlightsturns @hrtz4alex2211 @verstarkey @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1 @chrislova @stellarsturns @lelesturniolo @sturniolodoll @ilovemattsturn @blahbel668

[kailoweenie]

Hii! I saw your fic on Hyun-ju and i was wondering if you do wlw because I WANT ONE WITH SE-MI SO BAD won ji an the woman you are🙏🙏 also pls can i req an an au where she doesnt die (spoilers)

Okay i will TRY but it's gonna be a bit short...😭 I'm not really a writer but I'll do my best for the winners love winning (wuh luh wuh) community, trust💪

Se-mi/player 380 X F! Reader

Author's note: takes place during the voting sequence where she chooses 'X' after a few games.

Reader is similar age but is younger than Se-mi, wether it's few months/years of whatever is up to you!

You swallowed a nervous lump down your throat, breath heavy as you watched one by one players going up to vote. A vote that will determine our chances of going back home....or not.

You had already voted, so did your friend. Both having agreed that this time the both of you will go home. Together.

Yet it didn't stop you from getting nervous each time the counter of going another round slowly caught up to the choice of going home.

Your friend in question stood beside you, eyes locked onto the screen, her short hair framing her pretty face- not that you'd ever say it out loud... at least, not until you're sure she'd even like you the same way.

You looked away before it seemed obvious you were staring- er- well, at least you hoped it wasn't obvious to her. Your hands fidgeted nervously by your sides, clenching and unclenching over and over. You could feel your nails digging into your skin as another player voted 'O'. It must've been pretty obvious you were beginning to panic, it was difficult not to when this whole thing could cost you your life.

Jerking in surprise, you felt a cold hand against yours, your head snapping towards your left as you watched the last person you expected to comfort you....holding your hand in hers.

"S-Se-mi unnie....?"

"Relax. You'd hurt yourself if you keep doing that" she spoke, glancing at you with a small reassuring smile. That damned smile of her made you immediately look away, focusing on the scene in front of you and not on the small heat that began to coat your cheeks.

Her thumb idly traced small circles on the skin of your hand, the action was small but it meant a lot coming from her. Your gaze kept flickering back and forth from her face to her hand, in awe at how calm she was in the moment. Despite the lack of words, just her presence itself was enough to calm you down.

At some point, your focus was only on the feeling of her hand on yours. Warm and soft. Your fingers intertwined with hers.

The sound of cheering from your group broke you out of the trance, your eyes gazed onto the screen, a bright smile Beginning to form on your face as you realized. This time...this time we could actually go home...we were going home!

Letting out a small yelp of surprise, you felt a pair of arms wrapping around you. Your face heating up as you felt her hair brushing the side of your face. "Let's go home" she muttered softly into your ear, a grateful and bittersweet smile on her face as she leaned away far enough to gaze into your eyes.

You blinked dumbfoundedly before shaking off your surprise. Nodding, a small smile graced your own face as you held her hand tighter

"Together."

[sinofwriting]

21st - Max Verstappen (I ❤️ MILFS verse)

Words: 689 Summary: Pan, Max, Logan, and Oscar celebrate Logan’s 21st birthday together. (Part of the I ♥️ MILFS verse) Note(s): Takes place pretty much directly after the first fic and remember in that first fic Logan is twenty as I changed his and Oscar’s age. Also happy 24th birthday Logan! It's gonna treat you far better than 23 did! (that is threat btw, I will make it treat him better)

Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse

Pan lets out a laugh as Oscar takes a drink from her glass, his whole face scrunching up as he practically slams it back on the table.

“Mom, what the fuck?”

Logan smacks the back of Oscar’s head lightly as he sputters. “Don’t say what the fuck like that to mom.”

Max watches the two of them, slightly wide-eyed as they begin to bicker.

“Are they always like this?” He asks her, voice quiet.

“Pretty much.” She laughs, leaning into Max and snuggling into his side when he automatically lifts his arm and presses a kiss to her head. “It’s off season as well, so both of them just fully get to relax.”

“It’s nice.” He tells her, watching as they two boys start to shove each other lightly.

“Okay, but what was that?”

“Moonshine.” She tells Oscar, leaning out of Max’s hold and forward to push Oscar’s hair up and out of his face, knowing he won’t notice it before settling back into Max’s side. “My grandfather made it often.”

Logan perks up at the first word. “Moonshine?” And he makes grabby hands at her glass.

She shakes her head, “There’s a mason jar on the bar, you can get yourself some.”

“You like that shit?” Oscar says, horror on his face as Logan practically sprints to the bar.

“I’ve never had moonshine.” Max’s voice is quiet in her ear and she turns her face to look at him.

Reaching for her glass, she pushes it to be in front of him. “Try it.”

Picking up the glass, he peers at it, before raising it to his lips and taking a drink.

His face scrunches up a bit, the glass getting set down with a quiet clink. “Yeah, I think that is a Sargeant thing. I’m not too sure about that.” Max then withdraws his arm from around her shoulders. “I’m gonna make myself a gin and tonic, want anything?” He asks the three of them as he stands.

Logan and Oscar both shake their heads.

“Some pretzels please, oh and bring the plate.”

He nods, the boys look at them in confusion. “Can do.”

“What plate?”

“Don’t worry about it.” She tells them.

“But what plate?”

Her eyes narrow and they both smile at her.

Max returns after a moment, an arm behind his back, while his other is slightly outstretched in front of him and she takes the drink in that hand, putting it down for him. And Max slowly moves his other arm in front of him and sitting on top of a plate is a cake, the icing on it saying ‘Happy 21st Logan’.

Logan beams at the sight of the cake as it’s set in front of him. “Thank you guys!”

Oscar lets out a small sigh, “I love America.”

Logan and her snort at the comment while Max raises an eyebrow at Oscar’s comment, sitting back down.

“Pan only makes this cake when it’s like a really special birthday. So, ten, sixteen, eighteen, and the next was twenty-one since it’s America’s drinking age. I’ve been waiting for this for years.”

“I always forget that twenty-one is special for you guys. Finally going to start drinking Logan?” Max jokes.

Logan laughs, but plays along. “Oh yeah, man. I’ve been waiting forever to finally have my first drink. It’s been painful to watch everyone else drink and have to wait another three years to join them.”

“Oh, agonizing, I’m sure.” Max says, with a nod.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” He sighs before smiling. “But really, thank you, Momma and thank you, Max.”

“I don’t get thanks?” Oscar says, throwing his hands in the air.

Logan shakes his head, “nope. Deal with it.”

The Australian scowls but a smile is threatening to ruin it. “Bloody Americans.” He looks at Max for agreement, but he shakes his head.

“I don’t think so, mate. I quite like my Americans.”

Logan flushes a little and she can’t help but press a kiss to Max’s cheek, Oscar completely softening, the fake scowl gone from his face as he observes the three of them.

“Yeah, I quite like them too.”

[amyispxnk]

Grease and sweat

Summary - Another day, another venture out of the walls of the Boston QZ with Joel Miller. AKA, another day spent fantasizing about the burly man whom you spend most of your time with these days. When the two of you have to hole up for the night, things get a little heated, and you finally snap.

A/N: i started this oneshot like 6 months ago and finally found some random motivation today to finish it. and im not gonna spoil anything but like.. why has noone talked about this in a fic before? im literally salivating when he does this during the game and like.. yeah. idk. you’ll see.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT!! (oral f!receiving, unprotected PiV sex - don’t do this, especially during an apocalypse!, mentions of masturbation, lewd thoughts), language, age gap (roughly 15 years), firearms, pet names, fluff, aftercare

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

“The fuck’re you lookin’ at, kid?” Joel practically spat, having noticed the way you were eyeing him whilst he worked.

You scoffed, walking up to the workbench he was currently using. Kid. You weren’t a kid. Sure, you were almost 15 years younger than him, but you certainly weren’t a kid.

“I’m 34, Joel. Not a kid.” You argued, leaning on the wall and watching him work.

He just grunted in response before resuming what he was doing before, starting with cleaning his pistol.

His fingers danced along the metal, digging into certain bits with the old rag he used to get any grime out, before he used the screwdriver to make a few adjustments to the handgun.

You never really understood how to do all the fancy things he did with his weapons, and you probably should considering how intently you watched him whenever the pair of you came across one of these old benches - but you couldn’t focus on the guns which were in his hands. His big, strong, rough hands. You’d trade places with those guns just to feel his hands on you like that. He took so much care of the damn things too, like they were the most precious things in his life. Always cleaning and repairing them like this, practically never letting you touch them.. What did those guns have that you didn’t? You thought to yourself as you watched him, gaze drifting to his fingers in particular. The ones you’d dreamt about far too many times, the ones you’d imagined inside of yourself rather than your own when you touched yourself. It was the way they moved, how thick they were, and how the veins in his hands and muscles flexed when he gripped his bow, and the way his arms would shine with his sweat as he worked. You’d lick the sweat off his body if he asked you to. Depraved as it sounds.

Not that you’d ever admit it.

Your absolutely maddening desire for and sickening crush on the man whom you knew close to nothing about. Just his name and a few things he revealed to you when the night was particularly long or the whisky he was having took a toll on his judgement, loosening him up for once. You knew where he was from, what his job was before, and you knew that he was basically just a grumpy old asshole who was only good for beating up guys when you went on supply runs.

He had never been overly kind to you, not that you needed it, had never asked you any questions, didn’t make small talk, and was a ruthless murderer.

You loved every single thing about him.

And you wanted to show him. You wanted him to love you back, no matter how he’d love you. You wouldn’t mind if he was a cold lover, a mean one - hell, he almost definitely was - you’d take him any way you could get him.

You looked back at his hands once more, subconsciously pulling your bottom lip between your teeth when he had to use his ring and middle fingers to clean out part of another gun, your thighs clenching together as you felt the all-too-familiar wetness start to form between them and making you groan when you realised you’d probably have to rub one out when you got back later. It was honestly annoying the amount of times you came by your own hand, his name on your lips, because you knew how much better it would feel if it was his thick fingers pushing into you, his big hands palming your breasts, his strong arms holding you down as he made you come over and over…

“Let’s get goin’.” He says suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts as he tucks his gun away and slings his backpack on.

You push yourself off of the wall and follow him quickly, trying not to look flustered although you very much felt it.

He came to an abrupt stop when you reached your normal exit from this little pitstop en route to the guys who gave you weapons, and you almost walked face-first into his back.

“Joel? Wha-” you began, but he cut you off.

“This shouldn’t be closed.” He murmurs, like he’s talking to himself, not allowing you any time to respond before he’s going over to pull the chain which should open the garage door.

It doesn’t.

No matter how much he pulls on the metal, grunting and groaning and making your eyes flutter shut whilst you force your needy whimpers down with the noises he’s making, it barely opens, slamming shut every time he gets close to getting it open a quarter of the way.

“Fuck.” He grits, giving up and slamming his hand against the thing. It would be no use trying with that door anymore, the noise it was making was getting too loud anyway.

He stands there, clearly thinking hard about what to do. You can’t turn back because that would just lead you straight back to the QZ, which was useless to you right now, but you don’t have any other secured ways to get to your vendors - how could he have been so stupid to not plan ahead, he ridicules himself silently.

“Joel? What’s the plan?” You ask, getting slightly impatient with his constant silence. He may have been this hot brooding older man, but he could really leave you in the dark sometimes like this.

“Will you let me think, goddamnit?” He responds, clearly annoyed with your current predicament, scratching at his jaw before looking back up at you.

“Could try that window.” You suggest quietly, looking upwards. It was high and small, but you’d be able to get through it if he gave you a boost up.

He gave you a small nod before you both made your way up there and he got into position, hands outstretched and placed together as you got on and pushed yourself up. Normally, whenever he did this, you’d feel all dizzy afterwards from the proximity and his touch - but as soon as you looked out the window you were horrified. There were infected, just past the jammed door - and a whole lot of them. You weren’t getting past that. Forget the deal, you’d come back another day.

“Joel.” You say, not even realising you were whispering. He doesn’t answer.

“Joel! Joel, get me down.” You whisper-shout, and he furrows his brows.

“Why? What’s the matter?” He asks, and you have to fight against the urge to roll your eyes.

“Just get me down.” You say through clenched teeth, taking another look outside the window before he carefully lowers you. Of course, he boosts you up regularly, but he rarely ever tries to get you back down, so you stumble a bit and end up with your face against his chest as he falls back onto the wall slightly.

“Jesus, woman!” He grunts, but you don’t even try to move, you just look up at him with those fucking doe eyes of yours and it takes everything in him to not groan at the sight of you. God knows how many times he’s imagined you looking up at him whilst you sucked his cock, knelt on the floor with tears in your eyes and your hair all messy for him with your big eyes staring into his.

You open your mouth to speak, before realising the position you’re in and quickly standing up.

“I- there were infected outside, Joel.” You explain after a moment.

“So?” He questions you, squinting in confusion slightly. You’ve taken down infected before, no problem. What’s the issue today?

“No, like- I swear it looked like there were a hundred of them. Just this big fucking horde, right outside the garage door.” You gestured back towards the exit.

He clenched his jaw. Yeah, okay, you could take down some infected, not a hundred.

“Y’sure?”

“I’m fucking sure, Joel!” You almost yelled, way too many emotions going on in your body for you to act normal right now.

“Alright, alright, calm down.” He looked back outside. It was almost dark, there was no way you could get back to Boston in time now. It just wasn’t safe to go that far so late, and there was no point since you’d have to sneak by all the guards - who hopefully wouldn’t notice if you were gone for one night - to get back in.

“Go check all the doors, lock ‘em and then barricade ‘em. We’re gonna have to hold up here for tonight, then go back at dawn.” He decides, and you gape at him like a fish.

“We’re staying here?! Joel, what about curfew and the- the fucking infected right outside-” you start, but he silences you once again.

“We’re gonna be fine. When have things ever gone wrong for us since you started comin’ out with me?” He questions sternly, and you ponder it.

Never, really. He always saved you, and you’d save him when he needed it - even though it was only a handful of times he did.

“‘Kay, fine. Whatever.” You mumble stubbornly before turning round to go secure the doors leading to the small mechanic store you’d be staying in.

He looks around himself for any openings and closes them up before you both end up back in the main room.

It’s mostly silent as you look around at different things, poking at the ruined cars and whatnot whilst he sits on a crate and watches you as discreetly as possible.

“I have a question.” You say, turning to face him and making him snap his head away from you before you notice he was looking at you already.

He grunts to tell you to continue speaking, looking back at you when you do.

“Could you like.. show me how to fix up my guns and stuff? ‘Cause you always do it for me and I just thought it was.. Cool.” you murmur, trailing off at the end.

He actually lets out a small laugh at that. Not in a mean way, necessarily, just kind of teasingly.

“Cool?” He repeats with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, cool. It just- with all the attachments and shit. And I can never clean them properly.” You sigh, walking up closer to him. “Please? We’ve got nothing else to do.”

The sound of you saying please for him in that small voice wins him over. “Fine.” He gets up off the crate, walking back over to the workbench and flicking the light on before taking your gun from you. He talks you through it, shows you a little how to clean it before letting you try it yourself, and then he shows you how to add a scope to it. You can’t quite grasp it though, not being strong and precise enough to attach it properly, so he places his hands on top of yours and helps you screw it on.

The contact makes you shudder so violently that he definitely felt it, and you want to crumple into the ground.

“What was that for?” He murmurs, and you almost jump at how close he is now, voice loud and breath hot on the side of your face as he leans over your shoulder to look at the gun whilst he tries to help you.

“No-nothing.” You squeak, breathing at least ten times faster now.

He feels it. He knows. He has to know, you’d been so stupid and revealed it all now. Joel Miller was not an idiot and he knew how you felt and he’d hate you for it. Your thoughts spiralled.

“Nothin’, huh?” He taunts, a smirk pulling at his lips as he watches you slowly crumble. To make it worse, he turns you in his hold, so you’re pinned with your back to the desk and his hands on either side of you.

“Y’alright, darlin’? You look awfully hot. Don’t got a fever or nothin’?” He mumbles, seeing how far he can push you as he leans in closer.

“I-I’m fine.” You say quietly, mesmerised by the sight of his face so close as you notice little details you’d never noticed before, barely even realising his lips are so close to your own until he’s pressing them to yours.

You make a slight noise of surprise before you get lost in it. The feeling of his lips against yours was something you’d dreamed about for so long, and now it was finally happening.

Your hands come up and around his neck, pulling him closer towards you as he deepens the kiss, forcing his tongue inside your mouth and overpowering you immediately as he pushes you back onto the workbench, sitting you on top of it and already working open the buttons of your jeans.

He kisses you one more time before getting to his knees and pulling your pants completely off, eyeing your panties, a dark patch in the middle of them from your growing arousal.

“Joel, please.” You whimper from above him as his hands run up your legs, coming to your inner thighs before toying with the elastic of your panties.

“Y’need me here, darlin’?” He asks, smirking up at you as his fingers move to rub slow circles into your clit through the fabric.

“Fuck!” You gasp at the contact, needy and desperate for him by this point. “Yes, please- please Joel.” You’re reduced to begging already, something you figure only he had the power to make you do.

He shushes you gently, fingers slowly peeling your panties down and groaning at the sight of your bare cunt, dripping and pulsing with need.

“Fuck, baby. Such a pretty pussy, so fuckin’ wet. This all for me?” He hums, dragging a finger up and down your slit, gathering your wetness on it and sucking it into his mouth as he looks up at you.

You whine at the sight of him between your legs like this, not knowing how you’re going to survive when he actually makes contact with you, and nod furiously.

“Yes, oh my god. Yes, it’s all for you Joel.” You say quickly, and he seems satisfied with that answer, finally moving his face to your core and making you squirm as his hot breath fans over your pussy.

“Stop fuckin’ movin’.” He murmurs, seemingly enraptured by the sight of you, staring for a few seconds and making you want to shift away again under his intense gaze, but he has an arm on you to make sure you don’t move.

And then he finally, finally, licks a long stripe up your pussy, tongue running along your wet folds. And you fucking lose it.

“Oh my god, Joel, please. Fuck- fuck, please, more-” you start begging, moaning loudly as he picks up the pace and continues to devour you, drinking down your wetness, and eventually kissing and sucking at your clit. His fingers, those thick gorgeous fingers you’d dreamed of for so long, tease your entrance before he’s pushing those inside, making you wail at the feeling of something inside of you, getting you closer to that release you were aching for by this point.

“Fuck, yes!” You cry out, thighs shaking slightly as you feel yourself getting close.

“That’s right, baby. You like that?” He asks, voice an octave lower as he pumps his fingers in and out of your tight heat, tongue still working you over relentlessly.

“Please- it feels so good-” you whine in response, fingers grasping for something to hold onto, to tether yourself to earth with as you feel yourself start to float away. Finding his hair and tugging slightly which makes him groan.

“Good girl.” He praises, adding another finger. He curls his fingers, searching for your g-spot and finding it easily.

You moan weakly at the praise, hips bucking as you grind yourself against his mouth, the ridge of his nose stimulating your clit perfectly as your fingers pull at his hair, and before you know it, you’re coming with a hoarse scream of his name.

You see white as your thighs quiver around his head, tensing and squeezing slightly as he continues to work you through it, lapping at your juices until you cry out from the overstimulation.

He removes his fingers from your hole, licking them clean once more before standing up and removing his own clothes, revealing his hard cock and making your eyes widen slightly.

Of course he was big, you’d stared at the bulge of his jeans enough times to realise that, and you’d imagined it before, but it all paled in comparison to finally seeing it.

He was long, slightly curved, girthy with a flushed red tip which had precome leaking out of it as he pumped himself slowly with a smirk on his face.

“Cat got your tongue, pretty girl?” He hums teasingly, and you can’t even think straight anymore, just pulling him forward and kissing him hungrily as he positioned his cock at your slick entrance.

Needy little whines and whimpers flowed freely from your mouth straight into his, where he swallowed them whole before starting to push into you.

You part from the kiss suddenly, gasping as he pushes deeper and deeper, stretching you thoroughly, and you feel grateful that he has the decency to start off slow since you already feel like crying from how big he is, how fucking good it feels.

When he bottoms out, you’re already wrecked. He’s huge inside of you, and you can feel everything. Every single ridge, vein, and twitch of his pulsing cock as your walls hug him tightly.

“Y’okay?” He murmurs softly, making your heart swell at how tender he sounds right now, and you nod in response.

“Joel.. please move.” You whisper, and he complies, grabbing your hips and barely giving you a moment to think before he’s starting to pound into you, making you squeal as your arms came around his neck, nails digging into his back before his head ducks down into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking at your pulse point and making you clench harder around him, before moving down to your breasts, palming them and taking one of your nipples into his mouth as you scream his name.

“Joel! I’m gonna- gonna come- oh god, please!” You cry out, back arching. He growls, picking up the pace. He could feel his orgasm building, but he needed you to come first, needed to feel your tight walls clenching and gushing around him before he even considered his own pleasure.

“Come on, baby. Give me one more and I’ll fill you up. Fuck this little cunt full of me.. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He says, voice low and husky as his balls slap against your ass, the loud sound of your wetness filling the room as you start to tremble once more.

“Yes! Fuck, Joel. Need it so bad. Want your come inside of me. Please, Joel.” You gasp, making him groan as his fingers move down to rub at your clit.

“Come for me, baby.” He encourages, speeding up even more and hitting that spot inside of you that makes you see stars, making you scream as you come and dissolve into a shaking, whimpering mess whilst he continues to thrust into you.

“That’s it, darlin’. Come all over my cock.” He grunts, his own release approaching quickly. The sounds of your moans and cries are enough to set him off, barely thrusting a few more times before stilling and filling you with his hot seed, slowly fucking it even deeper inside of you before pulling out and looking at you.

Skin flushed, panting heavily, come leaking down your thighs. You looked perfect. He wished that cameras were still around so he could take a picture of how you looked right now, keep it in his pocket wherever he went. But he couldn’t, and he realised you probably needed cleaning up now as your hazy eyes blinked open and looked at him. You were quiet, thinking about what this meant for the two of you now. Would he go back to being the cold man you knew? Would he be even colder? Would he suddenly be attentive and caring towards you?

You supposed you got your answer when he gently cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek as he looked at you with something scarily close to love in his eyes, the gaze he’d somehow managed to conceal from you all these months which he could now finally show you.

“You okay?” He murmurs, and you nod weakly in response. He hums, giving you another small kiss before walking off to go get a rag to clean you up with.

“Hold on, let me just..” he mumbles to himself as he goes to try clean off any dust from the rag, before returning to between your thighs and cleaning away any evidence of your previous activities, tossing the rag somewhere and handing you your clothes. You get dressed quietly before he takes your hand and leads you over to a space on the floor where you set up your sleeping bags, putting them as close together as possible until he eventually just lets you tuck yourself into his, wrapping his strong arms around you from behind and falling asleep.

You listen to his soft snores, feel his calloused hands on your stomach where they snaked under your shirt before he fell asleep, and smile to yourself softly before falling asleep with him.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and my requests are open 💞

[minus-plus-zer0]

Tattoos

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Established relationships, aged up

Many Japanese establishments didn't look too kindly to those who publicly wore tattoos, so Bakugou never thought of getting one. He's always surprisingly straight-edge like that. But you often wondered to yourself what Bakugou would look like with tattoos running across his biceps and forearms, or even against his back. It wouldn't hurt. He'd look great leaning more into his 'bad boy' aesthetic.

One day, when you two were at home together, you pulled out a sharpie and snuck up on him while he sat on the couch. Naturally, he eyed you with great suspicion.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he said, immediately on guard.

"Nothing," you said, sitting down next to him and pulling off the cap.

"You're fucking doing something!" he cried. "You're definitely doing something."

Bakugou got defensive, ready for any kind of horrible assault you could unleash upon his pure, innocent self.

"Relax, Katsuki. I just wanna see your arms."

"Perv." He perked up with a smirk. "'Course you wanna see my arms. You always wanna see my arms."

You pinched his cheek and he wriggled out of your grasp. "Could it kill you to be humble for once? I'm not a pervert, I just thought it'd be super cute if you got some new tattoos!"

"Hold it!" He grabbed both of your wrists. "What the fuck are you gonna draw on me?"

"Oh honey, I didn't think that far ahead yet. But trust me, it will be very pretty and very, very you!" You nuzzled his nose.

He glowered at you, unmoving after your nose assaulted his. But he couldn't say no to you after that eskimo kiss, it was so cute it could've been illegal. You knew this and weaponized your cuteness regularly.

"Fucking fine," he said, freeing your wrists from his iron grip. "But only the arms. And I'll be watching you." His eyes narrowed into slits.

"Who me?" You looked at him innocently and totally oblivious to whatever could've made him suspicious of you. "Don't worry Katsuki, I'll be gentle..."

"Sure you will."

You soon got to work, your ideas soon taking form. Bakugou adored how the artsy side of your brain worked on his body. Regardless of the quality, he enjoyed seeing you could decorate his arms with your vision. Without you pranking him or drawing anything absurd, this felt a little intimate.

Your hands moved quickly, sharpie running across the hard sculptures of his bicep and forearms. Your black designs accentuated his muscles, and your non-drawing hand loved feeling up his arms as you curled up on the couch beside your man.

Bakugou just watched you. Less like a hawk, and more lovingly. You looked so pretty with your head tilted down, focused and deep in thought. He kissed the crown of your head just to distract you. You ignored him and persevered.

"All done!"

Your design was simple yet long, curly in all the right places. It really emphasized all the right contours of his muscles. Bakugou flexed his arm and turned it around, checking it out.

"Not fucking bad," he said. "Seriously thought you were gonna prank me again."

"I couldn't pass up seeing you with some tattoos," you said. "You'd look hot with tattoos all over."

"Perv." He poked you on the nose, giving you another lopsided-grin. He cocked his head. "You just wanna draw all over me, is that it?"

"Aw come on, can you blame me? I'm a little artist."

"No, I think you got the right idea. Gimme the sharpie, I wanna draw something myself..."

(I'm in a writing rut so I haven't been posting a lot lately but I will post more fics within the upcoming days!)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

my girl 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your brother's friend from work starts hanging out a lot more often. (short!reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

The curtains stir in the summer breeze, the smell of pollen wafting in and tickling your nose. You scrunch your face, resisting as sneeze and flip the page of the book, your eyes racing across the letters, devouring them. After another year of academia, you’re all too eager to spend your summer devouring your ‘to read’ list. 

The flick of pages marks the passage of time. You don’t sense how the sky sifts from a beaming yellow to a gentle blue. Not until the knock comes at the door and draws you from the world built of prose. You blink and lift your head, mark your page and leave it on your pillow. You push yourself across the low bed and yawn. Only as you don’t have words to read do you feel the fatigue in your eyes. 

“Peanut,” your mother calls you by the childhood nickname you can’t seem to shake, “gonna help with dinner?” 

You open the door to her and step out, “yeah, should do something.” 

“You should,” she chides playfully. “I already got the roast beef in, just need you to do sides.” 

“Great,” you shuffle down the hall behind her and rub your eyes. You don’t know if it’s allergies or reading that has you so dried out. 

Downstairs, you go into the kitchen and the aroma of the roast has your mouth watering already. In your delve into the land of fantasy, you may have forgotten to feed yourself. It’s not an uncommon occurrence; during the school year, you often studied until your head pounded and your stomach roared. The human body tends only to get in the way of the mind. 

You work at peeling potatoes as your mom takes out a medley of vegetables to put in a roasting pan. She seasons as you chop, the low murmur of her outdated music filling the hazy summer air. You can hear the children next door running around and the bristle of trees swaying in the wind. 

“Oh, make sure to throw in a few extra, pea,” she says as you go to curl over the top of the bag, “your brother’s bringing his friend.” 

“Friend? Johnny?” You wonder. 

“That man from his work, Syverson,” she corrects, “with the beard.” 

“Uh yeah, I remember.” 

You’ve met Syverson, or Sy as he prefers. Your brother, Isaac, started his apprenticeship last summer with the man down at the metal shop. There are vague instances in your mind when you recall the large bearded man sitting at the table across from you. He’s older than your brother, you too. Probably closer to your parent’s age. He doesn’t say much either but he’s polite. You think. 

You shrug and pull out some more potatoes to add to peel and cut. You do so quietly, your mind wandering back to your book even as the real world threatens to wipe it away. You’re so swept up in the fraught quest to reclaim a forgotten world that you can hardly focus on the blade. 

You blink as the knife hits the board, too close to your thumb. Pay attention. Often your mom comments that you look far away and just as often you are. Existing in this world can be so boring. Potatoes and roast beef. 

You rinse off the spuds and put them on to boil. You’ll mash them like you always do and add your mother’s ‘secret’ ingredient; herb and cheese sour cream. You’re pretty sure every mother on the block claims that as their little revolution. 

As the water starts to steam, you hear a car pull up and a louder engine behind it. Your mom checks the beef, letting out a gust of savoury air. You are starving. 

As you toss the peels in the bin, the front door opens. Isaac’s voice carries through the house as he chatters on about sparks and some work thing. Your mom’s head pops up as she waits eager for his appearance. 

He peeks into the kitchen as a pair of footsteps follow behind him. You mom greets him with a kiss, “hello, bubby, how was your day?” 

“Mom,” he scowls and wipes his cheek, “it was fine. Burnt myself pretty good.” 

He shows a bandage on his forearm and shrugs. Your mother gasp, “oh, honey!” 

“Told him to put his gauntlets on,” Syverson stands just beyond the doorway, his shadow looming like an evil orc in a cavern, waiting to pounce. You shake off the comparison as he comes into the light of the kitchen, a case of beer in hand. “Brought something for dinner,” he puts down the six-pack and shifts as you notice the red cap and label poking out from under his arm. He catches the bottle before it can slip and presents it to your mother, “and for the ladies.” 

“Oh, Syverson, you’re always so sweet.” 

“Mm, least I can do, y’all having me, feeding me,” he reaches to rub his neck. “Mind if I use the bathroom? Gotta wash my hands.” 

“Course, dear, you know where it is,” she preens. 

He leans on his back foot and his eyes glint in your direction. Despite his gruff exterior, his shaved head and thick beard, and his work-stained tee shirt, his eyes seem to sparkle, “evening,” he nods in your direction, as if he’s only just noticed you. 

“Hi,” you murmur and turn back to wash the starch from the cutting board. 

Having company is always awkward. You’re the only member of your family who isn’t very social. You have your classmates and a few friends you’ll hang out with on occasion but your parents and your brother always seem to have someone with them. If it isn’t one of your mom’s HOA accomplices, it’s one of your dad’s neighbourhood buddies arguing over the barbecue. 

You continue to tidy up as you wait for the food to be ready. You take out some plates and cutlery, wanting to distract yourself by setting the table. You stack the plates and the utensil slides around on top as you carry them into the hallway. You have to stop short as you nearly collide with Sy.  

“Sorry,” he apologises and backs up, “need help?” 

He points to your armful and you smile and shake your head, “all good.” 

“Don’t mind,” he says as he puts his large hands around the stack of plates. They’re pretty thick and heavy on their own but he takes them from you easily. 

“Um, right, then I’ll get... cups.” 

You turn back and flit into the kitchen. Your mom hums as she strains the potatoes. She doesn’t notice you counting glasses from the cupboard and balancing them all in your arms. You go down the hall, this time without obstacle, and into the dining room. You angle awkwardly to put down all the glasses at once.  

Sy lays out the plates and cutlery one at a time, certain to have each perfectly centered and straight. He focuses on the task intently. The sight of his earnest effort contrasted by his burly figure is almost silly. You plunk down the glasses at the corner of each plate, staying on the other side of the table from him. 

“Your back from school,” he says as he finishes, stepping back to cross his arms, making himself even larger. Most people are big compared to you. 

“Mhmm,” you nod with a rigid tight-lipped grin. 

“You graduate?” He asks. 

You try not to show your surprise. You’re not sure you’ve ever had a conversation with him. It’s just nods and grunts sent in your direction. Just acknowledgement. Just courtesy. 

“One more year,” you say, “erm, I’ll go help mom.” 

“Right,” he drops his arms and grips the back of the chair in front of him, “don’t let me keep ya.” 

You inch backwards and spin around, trying not to run away. It isn’t him. It’s you. It’s easier to read dialogue on a page and pretend it’s coming from your lips than it is to hold a conversation in real life. You would rather go back and finish your chapter then sit at the table and eat with your family, especially now that you’ve made it awkward. 

[toxicanonymity]

Would you please write a boyfriend’s dad fic 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Maybe the bf ditches her while she’s on vacation with his family and Joel knows his son is a fuck up so he wants to show her what she’s missing

Sky’s out, thighs out

1.5k / boyfriend's dad!Joel x f!reader 

thighs out masterlist

Warnings: NSFW 18+,  non-outbreak AU, big girthy age gap (unspecified), public, exhibitionism, oral & rimming (f receiving), unsafe P in V sex, creampie, squirting, dirty talk, use of daddy (prone bone anon). 

☀️🌤️☀️🌤️☀️🌤️☀️🌤️☀️

You're sunbathing face-down in a pool chair and a shadow falls over your book.  Joel squats down in front of you.  “Hey,” he says gently.  You wipe your eyes under your sunglasses.  He takes your shades off, but leaves his own on.  “Don’t worry 'bout my dipshit son, okay? Not worth the tears." He catches one with his thumb as it rolls down your face. You glance up and he asks, "Wanna go for a swim or somethin’?”  You avoid your reflection in his shades. Your eyes fall to his meaty thighs which are stretching his short, retro swim trunks under his wife beater tank top.   He follows your eyes down, then his nose twitches, smugly tugging at one corner of his mouth.  “We could do that, too." He’s shameless, but you've ignored it so far.  

One day, lounging on the beach, he caught you looking. He said, “sky’s out, thighs out," then sensually rubbed his upper inner thigh. You said, “sky’s always out. . .”   “Exactly.”  His beard pattern only enhanced the mischief in his smile, his hand resting at his groin. He wet his lips, still looking at you. Then he adjusted himself. The next day, he snuck up on you from behind when you were reading at the edge of the pool. He silently swam up and stood behind you, pressed himself up against you, and you didn’t do anything about it except think about him while you fucked his son later.  

"Thanks." You take your sunglasses from his hand and go back to reading. You're looking at the book but can’t focus with all these butterflies between your legs.  

You're thinking about how big and hard Joel felt against your ass in the pool and now hot it was that he stole that moment, no matter how creepy. The way he loosely wrapped one arm around you under the water, and you didn't flinch as he ran his hand over your stomach, just barely dipped his fingertips into your suit, and whispered, "good color on you." His soft grunt when he pressed himself harder against you before sinking back and floating away just in time for Jack to come back outside.

"Plenty of time to ourselves," he says as you stare at the words on the page. It’s a rooftop pool shared by several units, and the other units have been empty this week.  But there are higher roof tops nearby with direct lines of vision. Someone waved from their barbecue the night before and invited y’all to join. It's a friendly area, lots of vacation condos.

-

“Alright, I’m gonna make this easy on ya,” Joel says.  “Want me to stop, I will, but you gotta say stop.” You throb at his words. He knows exactly what you need right now - for him to take charge.  

He starts by massaging your back. "Damn fool to even glance at another chick.”  He kneads your muscles lower and lower, then gropes your ass with an "Mmm."  You put your book down and rest your head on your hands.  He slides his hand into your swimsuit bottoms and keeps sliding down, over your crack, a little further, until his middle finger reaches your dripping wet pussy.  He inhales deeply and his voice lowers to a horny pitch as he swirls his finger. “Yeahhh," he growls.  "That's what I thought. . .” he says as he touches you.  

He swings a leg over the pool chair to straddle you, and as his crotch hovers over your ass, he brings his mouth to your ear. "You're so damn hot, baby," then dips his pelvis down for his raging erection to brush your swimsuit, sending all your blood to your loins.  "Knew ya wanted it."

He uses one hand to slowly untie your swimsuit bottom on both sides, so slowly, as if any sudden movement might break the spell.  Then he backs up toward the foot of the lounge chair and spreads your thighs.  "Damn, this ass is perfect,” he says under his breath as he gives your cheeks a quick squeeze. Then he inserts a thick finger into your cunt and breathes deeply as he adds another.  

“Pussy, too. . . Damn. . .” Your cunt twitches around his digits and he says, “Wooo.”  He takes out his fingers, and his hands on your hips nudge you into lifting your ass and tilting your hips for him to plant his face. His facial hair prickles you lightly.  He starts at your clit and when he reaches your warm, wet hole he gives it a kiss.  Then he inserts his tongue and moans into you.  After about a minute of eating you out, his tongue sharpens and drags from your entrance up to your asshole to tease you there while squeezing a cheek.  

He gets on top of you and presses the hard bulge of his swim trunks into your ass.   You moan softly and he says, “Yeah, that’s right.”  He pulls his swim trunks down enough to free his stiff member then runs the firm tip through your folds.  You gasp and he says “All yours, baby.  Every inch.”  

-

He notches the swollen head at your entrance.  Your thighs spread and your hips tilt for him. "That's right, baby."  He shoves himself into you with a grunt.  You moan as his girth splits you open.

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes and retreats half way.  He plunges forward again and bottoms out with a long sigh. "Damn. . . tight 'n juicy. . ." He repeats the motion.  "Perfect pussy." He lowers his broad torso against your back for a moment, pulling out all but the tip. The light padding of his stomach makes you twitch. Then with a deep thrust he pushes himself back up.  He hovers over you and braces himself on both sides of the pool chair as he rails you.  He’s hitting just the right spot.  The tension builds in your core.  

“Ah, fuck,” you gasp. 

“Yeah, how’s this cock treatin’ ya, baby?”

“Fuck, it’s good.”

“That’s right,” he says into your neck. "Daddy knows best. . . Don't I, baby?" He latches onto your neck. 

You start to say it back to him "Da-" and cut yourself off with a moan.  He sucks your neck so hard it’ll leave a mark but you don’t care. All you care about is his cock inside you.  You take a deep breath and manage, “yeah, Daddy.”  

He pounds you with all the pent up tension of the week.  You hear faint voices from a neighboring rooftop.  It sends a rush of excitement through you, the thought of strangers seeing you get railed by your boyfriend’s hot dad. 

Every time Joel buries his length in you, it rocks you forward on the chair and you grip it for dear life.  You moan in near disbelief at how good he feels. Your chest feels light with energy.

“Jack ever fuck you this good?" Not even close.  

“No,” you pant.  “Never, daddy. . ."  You could come any minute but don’t want it to end.

“s'what I thought." His cock is so stiff and thick.  And length wise, even a smidgen more might be too much to take. 

-

You look up and a shadow moves inside the clubhouse. “Wait,” you say. “ Is someone in there?”

He slows his hips.  “Want me to stop?”  He stops moving, and you can hardly stand it you’re so close to coming.  You groan.  No, you don’t want him to stop.  

You’re trying to see into the clubhouse when he pulls out and you answer too late, “Nooo.”  

He says “C'mere” and flips you over.   The voices return next door.  His strong thighs swell out from under his swim trunks and you follow them up to his commanding cock.  His sun-kissed arm flexes as he pumps himself, then crouches down and lines himself up.  

“Look at Daddy, don’t worry ‘bout nothin’ else."  He plunges to the hilt with a loud sigh from both of you.  “Damn you take it good,” he says.  He begins to pound you, then puts your legs up in a mating press.  

“I’m on the pill,” you manage to say between deep breaths.  Hard to tell if he’s relieved or disappointed.  His hips snap into you faster, and you forget about the shadow in the pool house and the people next door.  When you’re on the edge of  bliss, you say “I’m gonna–”

“Yeah baby, come on my cock.” 

You pant. 

“Come on, baby,” he says as he slams into you. 

You begin to clench around him and moan obscenely, gushing on his cock.

“Attagirl.”  He keeps fucking you through it. “Hell yeah,” he says between heavy breaths.  

He plunges into you slower but harder and somehow further, bottoming out with a primal grunt. Then he pulses inside you and sighs loudly as his balls empty.  His pulsations extend your own until he finishes coming and pulls out. Before he takes his still-hard cock away, he gathers his cum with the tip and pushes back inside.

When he's truly done, he swiftly pulls up his swim trunks, drags his hand through your juices and sucks his fingers.  He crouches down, cups your cheek and says, “Hot as hell.”  

Then he takes off his tank top and jumps in the pool.  He turns around and rests his arms on the deck, facing you. 

 “Damn. . . Jack’s even dumber than I thought.” 

-

Same Joel, same vacation:

thighs out on the beach

sun's out, guns out

-

Thank you so much for reading and engaging!

If you like this one, you might like the Speakeasy series which has exhibitionism, horniness, and talking.   Like how he talks?  Try night walks for similar energy (on the darker side).  Instagram and Uber for another squirter. 

-

ty for reading @dark-scape

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339  @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro

[bwabys-scenarios]

please please please PLEASE write a nanami fic (jjk)

nanami is at his desk doing some paperwork and the reader is just so needy, so she starts dry humping his thigh

you can take it as far as you’d like >:3

- :3

Needy Wife

Nanami x Fem!Reader

warning: dry humping, creampie

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: requests open, but I prefer HXH requests. If you’re going to request JJK, please make it interesting/detailed or give me a good prompt!

taglist: @desiray562

if you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, comment a ❤️!! make sure you have your AGE in your bio, and that you’re able to be tagged/mentioned!

It was another long day for Nanami, the man having to do paperwork even after coming home from his job. His cute wife, you, had been hoping for some fun and quality time spent with your husband, but were thoroughly disappointed when all you got was a hasty kiss on the cheek after his arrival.

“Sorry, darling, I have more work to do. Call me when dinner is ready.”

Nanami brushed last you, entering his office and closing the door behind him. It was enough to leave you standing there, a pout forming on your face.

You’d put on a nice set of lingerie under your dress, hoping to surprise him after work, but now he was shut away in his office.

For the first 30 minutes, you attempted to busy yourself with cooking dinner, but after everything was put in the oven and the timer was set, you now had nothing else to distract you from the warmth pooling between your legs.

Before you could stop yourself, you snuck towards Nanami’s office, trying to ignore how wet you were getting just by thinking about what you were about to do.

“Nanami? Can I come in?”

You ask as you knock on the door. Nanami grunts before answering. “The doors open, angel.”

You smile, opening the door to see your husband sitting at his desk, rubbing his temple as he looked over paper after paper, occasionally picking up his pen to write something down.

“Is there something you need, (Name)?”

You squirm in your spot, watching as he sets his pen down to look at you. He raises an eyebrow at your expression, leaning back in his chair slightly.

“Can I… sit with you? I missed you today…”

He looked at you for a few seconds, seeming to contemplate your question before giving you a quick nod. “Come on.”

You scurried over to him, happily climbing into his lap, one of his large thighs between your legs. For a few minutes, you stayed still, waiting for him to relax before you slowly started to grind against his thigh.

The man instantly stopped what he was doing, his hand moving to grip your hip. “(Name)? What do you think you’re doing?”

You could tell by the strength of his grip that you’d surprised him, so you whine a little, trying to buck your hips against him. “You’ve been so busy lately, so I wanted to…”

He sighs, removing his hand and instead wrapping it around your waist so you could continue your movements. “… my apologies, carry on.”

Despite his calm and collected tone, you could see the bulge already beginning to form in his pants as you began to move again, soft whimpers and moans escaping your lips. “Mmph, Kento…”

He stopped writing again at the sound of you moaning out his name, using his free hand to slip into your panties, rubbing at your clit. “I’ve been neglecting my lovely wife, haven’t I? Give me 10 more minutes and I’ll be all yours for the night.”

He removed his hand from your pussy, tapping them against your lips to signal you to open your mouth. As you continued to grind against him, you sucked on his wet digits, tasting yourself.

As you got closer to your climax, you began to move faster, panting and whining. “K-Kento, gonna-“

Before you could even think, you were being bent over his desk, your new panties being ripped off and Nanami’s fat cock being shoved into you.

He fucked you through your orgasm, a hand pressed firmly against the small of your back as he pounded into you.

“My poor wife, so needy and spoiled. Is this what you wanted?”

He took the rest of the night off to show you just how much he loves you, giving you creampie after creampie for each day you went without his love and appreciation.

[impactedfates]

Hello. I'm sorry if this is sudden but I was wondering if you took story requests and if you do, could you make a platonic Dan heng IL story with the reader being the child of his previous incarnation Dan feng, the reader is great at telling stories and they would use the power they inherited from their mother to change the shape of pieces of paper into different people and monsters. (I was pretty inspired by the movie Kubo and the two strings) Jing Yuan is the one to tell Dan Heng about the reader even though he doesn't know them very well, but Jing Yuan felt like Dan Heng had the right to know about the reader especially after the reader had an encounter with Blade. (If this is too much that's completely understandable and I wish you a good day/afternoon and or night😊)

A/N - These 2 requests are kinda similar in a way. So I thought to mix them together in the one fic!! I hope that's alright to the two anons who requested (づ ◕‿◕ )づ This isn't my best work, love-hate relationship with it, leaning more towards hate but I hope youse enjoy this anyways (hopefully lol)

W.C: 1149

Warnings: Wrongful imprisonment, reader was forced to stop aging with a potion, hints at abuse/torture but not said.

Extra: Reader is a child and there for shorter then most characters, Reader has horns and a tail (Vidyadhara)

“Dan Heng, there you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere”

Dan Heng looked up from the book he was reading and stared at the white haired male.

“General?”

“Please, we’re far past formalities. In any case, there’s someone I think you should meet”

The raven haired male closed his book before it away and stood up, raising a small eyebrow at the General, crossing his arms, he spoke, inquiring more about what he meant.

“Who? I don’t think I was invited to anything”

“Your kid…well more specifically Dan Feng's kid”

Dan Hengs eyes widen just the slightest fraction, slightly taken aback by the information, but he agrees to go meet the child of his previous incarnation.

Jing Yuan offers to walk with him to where they were staying, while also providing information about them to make the “reunion” a bit more bearable in a way. Their name is [Name], although not technically biologically his, they did have his genes, Dan Heng wasn’t gonna question that.

[Name] was stuck in the Shackling Prisons for a while now. Ever since Dan Feng had been banished from the Loufu, some cloud knights thought it wasn’t enough and decided to imprison his kid as well, it wasn’t until Dan Heng came back and got the banishment lifted that they came clean.

Dan Hengs eyes grow concerned, looking at Jing Yuan.

“And the cloud knights?”

“Punished, they didn’t get any permission to send anyone to the prison. I released [Name] already, so all there is left is for you to meet them…don’t feel pressured to take them in as your kid though…I know you don’t wanna be tied to your past incarnation”

Dan Heng nodded a bit slowly, continuing to follow Jing Yuan by his side as the two continued walking. It wasn’t a long walk but Dan Heng still thought hard about what he’d do.

Eventually the sounds of kids clapping and cheering reached his ears, he looked up and caught sight of a shorter Vidyadhara talking to some of the younger Foxians. Their hands folded some paper, creating a paper crane before they clasped it fully around their hand, and out came an actual bird.

“And the bird flew away to meet with their family! Then they lived happily ever after”

The Vidyadhara chirped with a smile as the kids around them clapped, urging them to tell another one. Another story.

“[Name]! There you are, I brought over your fath- I mean…your fathers reincarnation”

The small Vidyadhara turns their head and looks curiously at the General before their eyes landed on Dan Heng. Their eyes widened a bit before they slowly walked over. And koala hugged his leg. Dan Heng was taken aback by this action but did not push the kid off, instead slowly leaning down and patting their head awkwardly. He was frozen in place due to the sudden hug.

Jing Yuan chuckled at the sight, before turning to leave.

“I’ll leave youse two it then, if you need help. You know where to find me”

“Papa?”

Before Dan Heng could even reply, the kid spoke one word that made him freeze a bit more. He never did like when people connected him to his past. Always telling people he wasn’t ‘Dan Feng’

“I’m not him…sorry…I’m Dan Heng”

“Papa!”

The kid pouted at him, eyes looking at him with puppy eyes, Dan Heng averted his gaze and tried to change the subject.

“Let’s…explore the Loufu together”

.

.

.

“Papa look! It’s a dragon plushie, can I have it please”

[Name] begged their father, looking up at him as they tugged his shirt.

“Again…not your papa but…sure, any particular reason why you want it?”

“I want to be able to cuddle you at night if you’re not there”

Dan Hengs eyes widened a bit as he looked away with an embarrassed blush. He wasn’t even in his Vidyadhara form but then again, the kid seemed to adamantly believe that he was their father.

Still, without a second thought he took out his wallet.

.

.

.

“Bellybog?”

“Belobog, like bell-o-bog”

Dan Heng speaks, guilding [Name] on how to pronounce the place. He didn’t know how it happened, but one minute he brought the kid on the express, the next March insisted they bring them to Belobog to see the snow.

“They’ve been stuck in that yucky prison for who knows how long, they gotta see the snow…oh! And build a snowman, we should have a snowball fight as well and-”

March proceeded to talk about the possible games and things they could do once they landed. So here he was helping [Name] with building a snowman.

“We should give it horns!”

“Horns?”

“Like you Papa”

He stiffened a bit at being called ‘Papa’ once more, sighing out. He takes two sticks and sticks them on the snowman's head to resemble horns.

“I’m not Dan Feng”

.

.

.

“Sooo, you have a kid now?”

Came a teasing voice, Dan Heng sighed and turned his head to Himeko who was helping to feed the kid some new things. Pom Pom wanted to see what the kid would like to eat, so Himeko was helping.

“Not mine…”

“But they see you as their father, you don’t see them as your kid?”

Dan Heng was quick to shush Himeko as the shorter Vidydhara looked curiously up at the two. He thanked the aeons they were still learning a few things due to the isolation, though…he did feel bad about it still.

Himeko could only laugh softly…until a crash was heard on the other side of the train. She muttered under her breath, something about March and the Trailblazer being irresponsible and prone to cause accidents, yet a smile was still painted on her face.

“Here Dan Heng, little [Name] here just needs to try one more things, you feed it to them”

She said, gently pushing the chair the child was sitting on to Dan Heng, he made no objections, simply sighed and fed the kid.

“Papa?”

“Hm?”

“I love you, I’m happy you’re back”

Dan Heng froze his movements at his kids' words, which in fact gave the kid some time to climb onto his lap and cuddle themselves in it, wrapping their tail around their body. They slowly fell to sleep with a smile on their face.

Dan Heng took a bit to process everything but sighed, carefully standing up and bringing the kid to his room so they could have a better sleep.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Dan Heng, you left your-”

The red haired woman's voice died down as she saw the scene in front of her, with a knowing smile, she slowly closed the door and walked away, shushing the other passengers.

What lay in the archives was a small Vidydhara resting with their eyes closed, sleeping peacefully. Their bed? A taller Vidyadhara with his arms around the kid, cradling the kid as his tail rested around him as well.

OEDNIOFBS, the more I read this the more I hate it help :sob:

For anyone who has requested before this post, apologies for taking so long but I'll be working on it soon don't worry!!

[hexed-padlock]

Hi. As requested by a few people, here’s a fic of my AU/Headcanon where Tav killed Strahd but keeps it a secret from the party. I’m planning a few different scenarios of the reveal, but here’s the first (and most serious). Next ones are gonna embody the original premise more. Couldn’t get this scene out of my head though. Also a bit of Astarion x Tav here.

Takes place as you meet Cazador, where he starts mocking Astarion.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Do the cattle not know you?”

They were below the Palace, facing Cazador as he readies the ritual for his Ascension. 200 years of torment and this is where it all ends. Here and now.

Astarion tenses, seconds from lunging. This was his tormentor, the bastard who robbed him of his freedom, the monster who destroyed thousands of lives. A vampire hundreds have tried and failed to kill.

The room grows colder as Cazador continues to humiliate, to mock, to belittle.

Astarion’s jaw clenches and-

Tav laughs, loud and mocking. They’ve barely reacted thus far, and the sudden noise catches everyone off guard. Their eyes glint, one natural and the other burning with fiery, infernal magic.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t take you seriously anymore. You truly are pathetic.” Tav taunts, head tilting as a lazy smirk crawls onto their face.

Cazador’s own mocking grin turns down into a sharp frown as he finally turns his attention to Tav. “Just what makes you think you can speak to me that way? You’re nothing more than a lamb led to slaughter. Cattle to be consumed. An animal at best.”

“Are all vampires this delusional?” Tav voices the question to no one in particular. Cazador seethes, and the party tenses.

What was Tav doing? Were they insane?!

Astarion moves to grab Tav as they take a couple steps forward, but misses as they smoothly sidestep away from his grasp.

Tav pulls out a sword hilt from the pouch on their hip, testing it’s weight in their hand absentmindedly. The party never understood the significance of this old sword hilt. Sure, it was beautiful, made of an elegant platinum, but it has long since lost it’s blade. Dammon once offered to forge it a new blade but Tav politely declined.

“I’ve met another vampire before you. He was always prattling on and on about being all powerful, lord of the night… something something.” Tav pauses to shift the sword hilt to their left hand. Slowly, deliberately, Tav locks eyes with Cazador (pointedly ignoring their party). “He’s dead now, of course.”

For a moment, Cazador pauses, before the same mocking grin returns. “A spawn is hardly considered a vampire. Though perhaps to you, worm, you see no difference.” Cazador then begins speaking slowly, as if communicating with a child or an animal. The mocking grin grows. “Allow me to enlighten you-“

“I never said ‘spawn’,” Tav cuts off Cazador. “Maybe your old age is finally getting to you, leech.”

Tav shifts the sword hilt back to their dominant hand, subtly maneuvering the hilt into a proper grip. “Maybe you’ve heard of him. His name eludes me. Forgive me, but it’s been a few years. I think it starts with an S.”

All the while, the party is flabbergasted. Sure, they’ve seen Tav do some questionable things over the past few months such as walk straight into a goblin camp, lick some spider meat, and even taunt Mizora—but this is a new level of insane.

Astarion tries to get their partner to stop, because for the love of everything, shut up. He’s never seen Cazador this mad before. Sure, they’ve survived some pretty dangerous situations before, but taunting a vampire lord is madness. However, each time he tries to move or speak, his voice dies in his throat. He’s terrified, he’s rooted on the spot. He’s afraid of Cazador yes, but he’s even more afraid for Tav. The brilliant, shining light of his life. The one person who showed him kindness, love. He’s afraid of Cazador, but he’s more scared of losing them.

Before Astarion could try to intervene again, he feels Tav send a wave of reassurance through the tadpole. They glance back at him for a moment, narrowed eyes softening, before turning once more to face Cazador.

Tav hums for a couple seconds as they pause to think. “Samael? No. Maybe it was Seraph?” They huff for a bit as they make a show of wracking their mind for the name. “Aha! I remember now.”

They brace for combat and the Sunsword answers its wielders call.

Tav’s smirk turns into a cold sneer. Their eyes glow as the hilt in their hand erupts in a fiery plume, a blade of radiant light now burning in the darkness. “It was Strahd.”

————————

Idk… if anyone wants to be notified of a new fic in this AU/series you can let me know?

Anyway, next these will all be independent of each other. Each will be an alternate take on the reveal.

I haven’t written anything besides D&D backstories in literal years so please forgive me if this is rather rough. Always open to constructive criticism.

[piratefalls]

“You are", he says, "the absolute worst idea I've ever had.” - me @ ao3 after watching the movie and thinking "there's probably fic for this."

i like lists. i've lost sleep reading fic like it's gonna disappear the second i look away. i'm making my problem yours. i'm sure a lot of these won't be new to people since they pre-date the movie and it's far from comprehensive but. i'm late to this party. i also can't make gifs, so enjoy the basic canva header.

(baby) don't make me spell it out by extasiswings

One night near the end of first semester 1L finals, just a few weeks before the two-year anniversary of their first kiss, Alex finds himself looking up from his desk with its messy piles of color-coded notes and tabbed textbooks to see Henry asleep on the couch, clearly having dozed off waiting for him to come to bed, and unbidden he thinks, God, I’m going to marry this man. It startles him, the spike of adrenaline that floods through him waking him up and bringing the parts of his brain turning over concepts like proximate cause and strict liability to a standstill as he stares at Henry. I want to marry this man.

God Save the Blessed American President Mom by zipadeea

["June stopped by at lunch; she showed me a delightful channel called Hallmark, which repeats the same story every hour after they swap one round of white, straight, small-town conventionally beautiful actors for another. It was entertaining.” “June and I used to play a drinking game with those. Take a shot every time someone goes ice skating, sledding, or leaves the big city for their tiny hometown.” “Good lord, you must’ve been sloshed in the first ten minutes.”] -- On December 4, 2021, an attempt is made on President Ellen Claremont's life. Alex gets shot instead.

Familiar Gravity by cmere

“Yeah,” Alex breathes, and he pulls back to look Henry in the eyes. “I’ve been fantasizing about you fucking me in this chair for, like, weeks. Every time you sit down here with your stupid book.”   Henry likes it when Alex speaks Spanish and Alex has a request.

Am I the Asshole? by everwitch

AITA for spending Valentine’s Day with my roommate instead of my boyfriend? It’s well past midnight on a Saturday and hardly the first time Alex has scrolled aimlessly on his phone instead of trying to sleep, but it’s definitely the first goddamn time Alex has discovered his roommate has made a lengthy post about last night’s curry debacle to r/AmItheAsshole — a post that’s apparently gone fucking viral. -- In which Alex and Henry are college roommates, and a few thousand strangers think they should fuck.

Everybody needs good neighbours by railmedaddy

To nora(9.37pm): So a funny thing happened My hot neighbour brought me the mcflurry i ordered and we fucked From nora (9.38pm): WHAT DETAILS NOW Which neighbour? Wait, you only have one hot neighbour. Alex, did you fuck a guy?!?!?! ALEX Or Alex meets a hot new neighbour. Shenanigans ensue.

A Picture on Your Corkboard by bleedingballroomfloor

It happens on a random morning in May when Alex, age fourteen, pads into the kitchen to greet his mother and steal a waffle from June's plate and sees a man sitting at their breakfast counter, reading a newspaper, a cup of coffee raised to his lips. Like he belongs. Like it's the most natural thing in the world. June doesn't seem to give the man a second thought. She merely flicks Alex on the forehead and takes back the waffle. Ellen isn't worrying, either. In fact, she's talking to him. Asking what his schedule is like. Making plans for dinner. Alex has never seen this man before in his life.

this is the worthwhile fight by dearhappy

It's not that Henry's scared of their future, he's never been more sure of anything in his life. The thing is they're still trying to figure out how that future is going to look. And he worries about how it'll affect Alex's career in politics.

Déjame Ver Cómo Es Que Floreces by 14carrotgold

Oscar gets in close and bluntly asks, “Earlier. In the bathroom. Did you do it?” Alex scoffs, “No. Don't be a perv. Why would you wanna know that anyway?” Oscar rolls his eyes. “Mind out of the gutter, chamaco. Did you propose?” Ah.  - Henry is introduced to the extended Diaz side of the family at their matriarch's birthday. Shenanigans (and romance and feelings) ensue.

Please Don't Let Me Be So Understood by chamel

“I’m glad you both see it that way,” Dr. Chen says. Then she closes her notebook and folds her hands on top of it. “I think I’m starting to get a sense of where the issues lie. The good news is that you’re both here, and you’re both willing to work on this relationship. That’s promising. Not all of the couples I see are even at that point.” “Sorry, what?” Henry says, voicing Alex’s stuttering thoughts as well. (After one too many fights at work, Henry and Alex are assigned mandatory reconciliation therapy by their boss. Except the therapist thinks they're there for couples therapy... and surely, a bet on who will break first makes more sense than actually correcting her, right?)

Such a Burden, This Flame on My Chest by allmylovesatonce

Alex Claremont-Diaz is relocating back to Austin to join his dad's firehouse. His days as a firefighter in Washington D.C. ended badly, but no one knows that, or knows why. And he plans to keep that close to his chest. He has to shove it back down if he wants to seem like a normal person, if he wants to do the job, if he wants to get along with his new crew, and most of all, if he wants to get to know the hot British firefighter on the squad. No one can know what really happened.

thinking (about last night) by rhosyn_du

“I hope you know that I am literally never going to stop reminding you that you said that. I’m going to, like, take out an ad in the student paper. Maybe hire a skywriter or something. I am definitely telling Pez." "I hate you," Henry tells him. "Lies," Alex says, still laughing. "You know you love me." Henry lets out a heavy sigh. "Well," he says softly, "that's rather the problem, isn't it?" “What, you think we’d be better off if we still hated each other?” “I think," Henry says slowly, "I’d be better off if I could figure out how to stop being so stupidly in love with you.” It takes a few seconds for the words to really register, as distracted as Alex is by the heat of Henry’s breath and wondering how much it would cost to actually hire a skywriter. Once they do, it takes a full minute before Alex can move. Can breathe. Can think. Finally, he forces out a whispered, “What?” When that gets no response, he tries again. This time, his voice actually cooperates. “Wait, what?” The only response he gets is a soft snore and Alex realizes that Henry, the utter fucking asshole, has passed out on his shoulder.

you're the reason i let myself fall by perfect-porcelain (tedddylupin)

Alex doesn't quite know what to expect when he walks into a room with a glowing screen separating him from the person in the other pod. The entire experience makes him skeptical. How can you fall in love with someone you've never met? Or: Love is Blind AU

Sharper Head, Wilder Heart by Dawg1515

"This could work out,” Henry offers. “It could,” Alex replies. “That’s good, then. Someone’s going to have to walk me through the brilliance of Empire Strikes Back, after all.” “Sweetheart, if we’re legitimately dating now, I’m forcing you to watch every movie that has Harrison Ford in it.” “Duly noted.” Or: When the Queen decides it’s time for Henry to settle down with a woman, she arranges a courtship between him and Alex Claremont-Diaz, closeted political powerhouse. Alex secretly tells Henry he’s trans, and Henry tells Alex that he’s gay. To say they become an amazing couple would be an understatement—but nothing is ever that easy for a prince and a president’s son.

every version of you (i love) by coffeecatsme

“So,” the voice narrates as the man squishes the dog’s cheeks and laughs at himself. “There’s this guy that lives next to me with the cutest beagle in the world and this little guy climbs to the fence every day to drop his toys off at, like, 5:30 on the dot, I’m not kidding.” The camera shows the man boop the dog’s nose and press a little kiss to his forehead. There’s a ball in his hands that he hands to the dog, but it slips from his mouth all over again, making the man reach down to grab it. He glares at the dog, but even then he’s still smiling. “And this guy always walks by and picks up the stuff and it’s the cutest fucking thing ever you have no idea.” The camera zooms in farther into the man’s smile, genuine and wild, as he pushes his wild curls away from his face. His eyes flicker up when another figure walks into the frame, his blonde hair falling over his forehead in waves. The man’s smile, impossibly, widens. “Oh. I’m also pretty sure he has a crush on my neighbor.” Or, 5 times David greets Alex with something that belongs to Henry, and 1 time he greets Alex with something that belongs to both of them.

The Duke Who Loved Me by annesbonny, Inareskai, schmulte

This Author knows as well as anyone how much you, gentle readers, enjoy a scandal and a love story. And what could bring more delight that two young gentlemen who bring both of those wherever they go? Join the Duke of Mountchristen and the, untitled, Mr Claremont-Diaz as they attempt to find a Love Match amongst the gossip of the ton.

The Edge of Glory by politics_and_prose

Subject: CD-10 To: Alex Claremont-Diaz (acd@cdlaw.com) From: Natasha Wallace (nwallace@txdems.com) Alex - You know how you jokingly told me to let you know when Mayfield was vulnerable and/or not seeking re-election? Tash

lying in the low light by smc_27

The thing about having a one night stand with the guy your sister is close friends with and gatekept from you is that it becomes really fucking important that she never knows. Or, Alex and Henry have a one year stand. Or, Alex and Henry are in a relationship, only they’re the only ones who don’t know it.

what we might do (if we stop keeping a secret) by indomitablelove

'This isn't how I wanted to tell people. I thought we'd get the chance to do it right.' - Red, White and Royal Blue, Casey McQuiston, p.327 --- or, in another world, Alex and Henry get to do it right.

Who Could Love You The Same as I by MariaDmitrievnaLikesSundays

Inside was exactly what Alex had found himself dreaming about ever since that night at Kensington. The kind of dreams that he forced himself to forget once he woke up, but dreams all the same. A gold band, simple and smooth, with a single square diamond embedded on top. It was small, modest, exactly to Alex’s taste. ”Holy shit,” he said again. “Holy shit.” That was a ring. That was, unmistakably, an engagement ring. Hidden in his boyfriend’s coat. And he had just found it.

—— Or, Alex finds the engagement ring that Henry had hidden, and does exactly what you’d expect him to.

As the World Falls Down by 3bowtruckles

So while we all knew that the 2020 written in the book would be glorious fiction, we didn’t realize that reality would throw us something to take 2020 even further away from the book’s events. This story is where I attempt to merge our 2020 reality and the fiction of RWRB, using research (a LOT of research) to try to figure out what the trajectory of reality might have been. The story starts picking up the timeline after their late-February trip to Paris. After that, it's strictly AU, but I try to keep a lot of the intents of the events in the book (for instance, Alex's trip to confront Henry in Britain after the lake) while still making them fit the narrative I've created.

We'll Change the World Yet to our Dessire [sic] by cresswells

Alex and Henry are engaged and ready to share their announcement with the world, but after the media circus surrounding their forced outing Queen Mary wants them to do things properly this time. To Alex’s surprise, ‘properly’ apparently means taking a Royal Tour around Europe as an official couple. Ten days, five countries and lots of unnecessary wardrobe changes. What could possibly go wrong?

where clouds look like mountains by weather_stained

Four months after the election, while still learning to navigate the complexities of being in a public relationship, Alex finally has the chance to show Henry around Austin.

We'll Invite Something In by smc_27

Alex is grinning a little too hard.  This is absolutely idiotic and pointless and fun.  The cover of Hello UK with a photo of him pulled out and a photo of His Royal Highness Prince Henry Fox-Mountchristen whatever the hell the rest of his names are (Alex knows; he being a dick) with the admittedly stupid but flattering headline which reads: His Royal Highness: He’s just like us and crushes on Pres ACD.

Henry's Cold, Empty Tower by DracoWillHearAboutThis

“I want you,” Henry said, slowly but clearly, “to leave.” When Alex storms Kensington Palace, Henry sends him away. Then, their relationship gets leaked, and it's Henry's turn to fight for Alex.

behind the diamond-shaped glass by Celaestis

Five times Alex and Henry used tea and biscuits to communicate, and one time they don't need to.

The Byline by rosetintednerdglasses

Press Secretary Alex Claremont-Diaz serves at the pleasure of the President, and he does it excellently until a new White House correspondent darkens his press room: Henry Fox, The Guardian.

we've been here forever (here's the frozen proof) by r_holland

Objectively, I am aware that you – a stranger – cannot tell me my own sexuality any better than I can, however... Can you, please? Tell me? It’s 4am and I have been thinking about this for hours, and I can’t sleep. Warmest regards, ACD *** It’s four in the morning, and Alex Claremont-Diaz has managed to follow a research spiral straight down into a personal crisis. It isn’t the first time.

words on the tip of your tongue (but please don't say them) by viciouslyqueer

So close. He was so close to saying those words that have lived inside him for so long, and now it's gone, a moment that slipped right between his fingertips before he could grasp it. Now he’s floating in the middle of the lake alone, the ghost of Henry’s touch still lingering on his skin and an unknown, heartbreaking feeling in his chest. — Or: canon-divergence where Henry doesn't leave the lake house.

The Grand Tour by lucky (revolutionbarbie)

When Henry returned from an audience with Queen Mary looking stony faced and grim, Alex had immediately feared the worst. She had requested to see Henry – and Henry alone – the moment their plane had landed at Heathrow on a visit to Pez’s new shelter in London.  Alex had suggested that they go to see her together just to spite the old hag, but Henry wanted to keep the peace. Since moving to Brooklyn, they had entered into an uncomfortable détente with Queen Mary and Henry was loathe to be the one to break it.  “She wants us to go to Australia. It would be an unofficial Royal Tour, of sorts, with stops in several cities and a short visit to New Zealand. Three and a half weeks in total.”  “She wants to send us on an all-expenses paid Australian getaway? Count me in.”

come and get me by rizcriz

The email arrives 8 days after Henry left the lake house. He contemplates deleting it without reading, but it sits in his Alex inbox, where there are over seventy emails favourited, and somehow it feels wrong and weirdly impersonal. As if leaving without a note were any different. He stares at the from line with an aching longing that seeps into his veins. It settles on his heart like a tangible thing; something warranted and cruel that casts shackles around the aorta and locks them tight so that he might never love again. -- or, alex sends an email instead of flying to KP.

Never Did Run Smooth by clottedcreamfudge

"You and me? Best friends. Stellar. Love that for us. But we could absolutely fake being in love. Dating. Whatever. I know literally everything about you—" (No you don't, Henry thinks firmly) "—and you know everything about me. We would absolutely fucking annihilate the other contestants.” "You're too drunk to apply," Henry points out, like he himself isn't about as wasted as it's possible for him to be without curling up and going immediately to sleep. "I doubt you could spell your own name right on the application. Or mine." Alex grins and pulls something up on his phone; it looks like it takes him a few tries. "Wanna fucking bet?" *** Or: Henry's life is a comedy of errors; a patchwork of oopsie-daisies; a quilt stitched together with hauntingly terrible mistakes. And at the centre of it all is his best friend, Alex Claremont-Diaz; director of said comedy, threading together his oopsie-daisies into a flower crown, rolling around in the quilt of his own making, and this analogy is going to shit because Henry's so in love with him he wants to die.

idk I'll do a part two if anyone wants.

[kiiwiigii]

The Red-Eyed Boy pt. iii

Pt. One | Two | Outtake

Alec x Swan!Fem!Reader

Summary: Alec returns and shows you how sorry he is. *wink, wink*

Warnings:

Smidge of angst

Smidge of bondage

Straight up smut

Word Count: 3,130

A/N: Today I learned that suck at writing smut, but please enjoy anyways. As with all my Alec fics, he is aged up. Also, I am fucking obsessed with this gif.

Tags: @rosedpetal, @lack-lust-3r, @badass-daisy-22

Alice and Bella eyed me warily from their spot on the kitchen table as I padded around the kitchen. It was my turn for dinner tonight and I was working on a new recipe.  

"Please stop looking at me like that. I'm not about to keel over dead and I'm definitely not about to poison Bella right before she gets married." 

I grinned when Bella scrunched up her nose in annoyance. 

"You're not gonna die because you're tied to Edward through a piece of paper, Bells." 

"Says you." She grumbled. 

"Have you heard from him?" Alice asked softly. 

"No." I pursed my lips. 

It had been nearly two weeks, and I hadn't heard a damn thing from Alec. I had called and texted only to be ignored and left on read. I knew he'd be mad, but for the love of God, he was taking this too far. I just wanted to strangle him. I had spent the first week moping before trying to shake myself out of it. I refused to let myself fall into the state that Bella had after Edward left. 

Although it was really hard not to. I still had my moments, usually in the evenings when I was alone. 

I paused in the middle of chopping an onion, looking over my shoulder at Alice. Her visions were the only thing I could really count on right now, unless I had a vision of my own. Unfortunately, sleep had been avoiding me, and when I did sleep nothing came to me. 

She shook her head sadly, indicating that she hadn't seen anything. Yet. However, she also hadn't seen anything different from her previous visions, so nothing had really changed, and that gave me hope. 

"So, Y/N, we have your first dress fitting tomorrow." Alice, thankfully, changed the subject.  

"Ooh yay! Do I get to see Bella's dress?" 

Bella groaned before plonking her head onto the table. She was so easy to tease. 

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't want to marry me." Edward entered the kitchen, shrugging off his jacket. 

I smiled watching them all together, happy to watch the little scene from afar. Eventually I had to turn back around, doing my best to hum a tune in my head, both to distract myself from the situation with Alec and so Edward wouldn't pick up on my depressing thoughts. This should be a happy time. 

Somehow, I don't think I was fooling anyone. 

It was official. I hated weddings and anything to do with them. I was almost positive that had I not been in a house full of vampires, Rosalie would have stuck a few pins in me on purpose.  

It was dark by the time I finally arrived home, and all I really wanted to do was shower and pass out on my bed. Keeping up a relatively happy façade almost 24/7 was exhausting. 

The house was dark, and I suddenly remembered that dad was out on one of his camping trips with a friend. Well, at least I would have the house to myself, and I could be as depressed as I wanted. 

I went straight to my room to gather some pajamas and a towel. I almost felt too tired to even shower, but I'll be damned if I'm not going to make sure I do some basic self-care. Throwing my bag onto the bed, I began to strip. 

"You should keep your window locked." 

I jumped and let out a scream, quickly covering myself, dress already hanging half off. 

It was Alec, propped up on my bed, another book in hand. How had I not seen him?? I even threw my bag in his direction. 

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" I wheezed at him, trying my best to get my racing heart back under control. 

"Not particularly." His eyes roamed over me, from head to toe, his eyes lingering on my neck, where my pomegranate seed necklace hung. And then the dangling straps of my dress. "You look beautiful, tesoro." 

I blinked rapidly, trying my best to figure out what the hell was happening. I hadn't heard from Alec in nearly a month and here he was, just sitting here. In my room. On my bed. As if nothing had ever happened.  

"Where have you been? Why have you been ignoring me?"  

He simply eyed me before closing the book with a thump.  

"I was extremely… angry. There was a while where I did not really have control of myself. I even scared Jane." He admitted. "I didn't want to take it out on you. Or for you to see that side of me." 

I glared at him. 

"So, you just disappear without a word? Didn't bother telling me that you were okay and that you just needed space? You're aware that I've had visions of you since I was like, six years old, right? I've seen you angry." 

"Not like this, you haven't." He said quietly. 

"Do you know what I thought? I thought you had left me. Despite whatever Alice's visions tell her, I know that they can change at the drop of a hat. I was just sitting here waiting, praying that you wouldn't change your mind." 

Fuck, here come the tears. 

He was next to me in a heartbeat, hands cupping my face. I tried to back away, but he kept his grip firm. 

"I would never leave you, Y/N." He said softly, wiping the tears away. "Ever. I have never been good at relationships. I have always kept myself at arm's length, but you, you are different. And when I saw you on that field, after the battle, I had never been so scared and angry in my life." 

He paused for a minute, searching. "Had I lost you, I would have burned the world down." 

My breath hitched in surprise, and I could feel my heart skip a beat. He kissed me then, and I allowed it, wrapping my arms around his neck as he reached for my waist. His kiss was soft and controlled, while mine was bordering on desperation. 

"Don't you ever do that to me again." He whispered against my lips, a warning. 

Why did that turn me on and piss me off at the same time? 

"I'm sorry, what was that? Because it sure didn't sound like an apology, Alec." 

He pulled me flush against him, nipping at my collarbone in reproach. I hissed in pain, but he quickly soothed it over with his tongue. 

"Then let me show you how sorry I am." He whispered. 

He pulled me in for a heated kiss and I couldn't help but gasp. Alec took the opportunity to dip his tongue into my mouth again, and the moan that worked its way up my throat had him growling possessively. 

I could already feel my nipples tightening and the wet heat between my legs. 

I grabbed him by the collar to pull him closer. He gladly obliged and before long, he had me pressed into the bed, right underneath him, his lips giving slow languid kisses anywhere he could reach. 

"Alec." My voice was caught in my throat. 

Goddammit. He hadn't even gotten me out of my clothes before he had me begging. Hell, he had barely even touched me.  

And I was supposed to be mad at him, dammit! 

He paused, lips at the swell of my breast. Finally, he lifted himself up so he could look me in the eye, searching my face. 

"Do you trust me?" 

I nodded my head furiously. 

"I need to hear you say it, Y/N." 

"I trust you." 

I was practically panting. 

Alec produced a long strip of gauzy fabric and slowly tied my hands together, gauging my reaction, before putting them above my head. 

"Did you come prepared with that?" I gaped at him. 

"No. I took it from your bag." He smirked. 

My bag? Since when did he have the time to go through my bag? I looked at my tied wrists again, trying to wrack my brain as to why I had a long ass strip of- 

'Oh my god.' 

It was the sash to my bridesmaid's dress. I know I hadn't put it in there. The last time I had seen it- Alice. She fucking knew. She had to. She had a vision and didn't even tell me. Granted, if this was a part of her vision, I would be highly embarrassed to hear her explain exactly what she saw. 

"Now." Alec put my hands above my head again, and then trailed his own hands down my arms to my collarbone, thumbing over the mark he had placed on it earlier. "Your hands stay put above your head until I say otherwise. If they do not, I stop. No matter what I am in the middle of." He warned, pausing to make sure that I understood. "Are you okay with this? If not, we can stop." 

I shook my head back and forth frantically. 

"Y/N, I need you need to say it out loud." 

"Yes." I breathed. 

"Good. If you become uncomfortable at any point you are to tell me." 

"Yes sir." It was out of my mouth before I even realized it and I blushed furiously. 

"Are you sure you're a virgin?" He teased. 

"Why don't you find out for yourself?" I teased back, a little breathless. 

Alec's brows raised before he smirked, leaning in closer, mouth right next to my cheek. 

"I think I am going to enjoy this very much." His hands began to make their way past my collar bone to cup my breasts through the fabric of my dress, his thumbs flicking slowly back and forth over my nipples.  

My back arched in a gasp, and he let out a hum, pleased with my reaction. Soon I felt more and more skin being exposed to the cool night air, his cold lips and tongue following right behind it, licking and nipping his way until, aside from my bra, I was fully exposed from the waist up. I blushed as he sat back, admiring the view. 

"You are truly beautiful, mio cara." He breathed.  

His cold hands caressed every inch of exposed skin, purposely avoiding the spots that I wanted him to touch the most. I pouted up at him and he swiped a thumb across my lip. 

"I must admit Y/N, I like seeing you like this. And I think you like it too." 

Slowly, I gave his thumb a long lick before sucking it into mouth. His eyes darkened even further, and I could practically feel the rumble of possessiveness in his chest. 

"Careful, amore." His voice was now husky and strained. 

I released his thumb, edging my teeth along the sides and cocked an eyebrow at him. "I thought you were supposed to be apologizing." 

His eyes were now pitch black. 

"I think you forget who's in control here." 

I let out a squeak as he moved aside and ripped my dress the rest of the way down, leaving me in just my bra and panties. He settled himself between my legs, to nip and kiss his way along the inside of my thighs. 

I sucked in a sharp breath when he placed a kiss right over my covered mound, and then nuzzled into it. My hands jerked and he looked up at me, remaining still. 

"Hands, amore." He chided. 

I immediately put them back in place, wriggling my hips in anticipation. Finally, he slid my panties down, revealing my inner most self, glistening and wet just for him. 

"Perfect." 

It was the only thing I heard before his mouth was on me and my back arched off the bed yet again.  

Keeping perfect eye contact with me, he gave me long slow licks, delving into me with his tongue. And then he found my clit. I couldn't help it, I cried out, my hands immediately coming down to lace themselves through his hair. 

This wasn't an apology; this was fucking torture.  

He paused with a growl. 

"Hands, amore." 

"But- but-" 

He lifted himself up slightly, a warning look in his dark eyes. "Hands." 

"Alec." I whined, wriggling my hips again and trying push him back down. "Please." 

"You know the rules, principessa." 

"Did you just call me princess?" 

He just smirked. "You're learning. Now, hands. If I have to tell you again, I will tie you to the bed." 

'You just may have to do that.' I thought. 

He watched me for a moment more before slowly lowering himself back down, wrapping his arms around my thighs to keep my hips level. He began his slow assault on me yet again and I did my absolute best to keep my arms above my head. It was working so far... barely. 

Before long I could feel a warm heat beginning to build low in my stomach.  

"Oh god, please don't stop." I chanted. "Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop." 

I wasn't entirely sure what was happening, all I knew what that it felt good, and he absolutely had to keep going. Otherwise, I was sure I was going to die right then and there. 

And then the bastard stopped. 

"Alec." I let out a low whine. 

He crawled back up to me, placing a kiss on my lips and I groaned at the taste of my arousal on him.  

"No cumming just yet, amore." He swept his tongue along my lips. "The only cumming you will be doing is on my cock." 

I almost choked. "Have- have you always been this dirty?" 

"You have no idea." He bit my earlobe and I squirmed at his words. “And this is only just the beginning.” 

"Well, it looks like won't be doing much of anything, since you're still dressed." 

"That can easily be remedied." 

My eyes widened as he slipped off his shirt. I had always known he was muscular but there was a big difference between feeling it and seeing it. Next came his pants and underwear, and I’m pretty sure my brain stopped working. 

How was that going to fit?? 

"Like what you see?” 

I simply nodded my head, my mind still trying to process the situation I was in... and the fact that his cock was rather... large. 

He leaned over and began untying my hands. I raised a brow at him. 

"I want you clinging to me when you cum." 

Oh fuck. 

My hands immediately went to explore his naked chest when he caught my hand and kissed my fingertips. 

"Are you still okay?"  

"Alec, I swear to God if you don't fuck me-" 

He cut me off, crushing his lips to mine and I suddenly felt him nudging at my entrance. He sat back briefly, rubbing himself in my juices, preparing. 

"Eyes on me, amore." 

I swiftly looked back up at him. I don't think I could have taken my eyes off him in that moment. 

Finally, finally, I felt him enter me ever so slowly. I let out a hiss of pain, my hands clutching desperately at the sheets, and he stopped, letting me adjust for a minute, all the while never breaking eye contact. This, this was something else. I had never felt so full.  

"Fuck, you're tight." 

I let out a whimper. 

"It's okay, mio cara." He kissed away the tears from my face, I hadn't even realized that I was crying. "I'm going to move now." 

And boy did he move. It took a few thrusts before the pain subsided and then I felt as if I was flying. He kept his thrusts steady and deep, his hands roaming my sides before cupping my breasts and placing gently kisses along the edges. And then proceeded to close his mouth on one of my nipples through the lace.  

"Alec." 

He didn't reply, deciding to suck harder and scrape against the sensitive buds with his teeth instead. If he kept this up, I wasn't going to last long, and I think he knew it. He sat up again, but this time he angled my hips up and I was suddenly seeing stars. He was hitting my sweet spot now and I couldn't contain my moans any longer. I could feel it building, and building, and building.  

"Don't you dare stop." I panted. 

"Eyes on me, darling." He ordered, grabbing my face, and making me look him in the eyes. "I want to see the look in your eyes when I make you come on my cock." 

Oh, God. He was speaking to me in Italian, and I didn't have the slightest clue as to what he was saying, but it was hot. 

"Alec, please. Make me cum. I want to come." 

"Fuck, so tight for me." He thrust harder and I could feel the walls of my pussy starting to tighten up. "I want to see you come undone around me." 

"A-Alec!" 

He forced me to look up at him again as I came hard, legs wrapping around his waist as he nearly collapsed on top of me. If I was seeing stars before, now I was suddenly seeing a whole fucking galaxy. 

"Fuck." He kissed me deeply as I felt him spasming inside me, cool liquid coating the walls of my pussy. 

He hovered like that for a long moment, his kisses turning into soft, languid ones, his hands roaming in even softer caresses. Finally, he pulled out of me, and let his eyes wonder over me. I'm sure I looked a mess, but he seemed to like what he saw, judging by the smirk on his face. 

"Come, amore. Let's get you cleaned up." 

"I don't think I can walk." I closed my eyes, doing my best to breathe and not die from great sex. 

"I can definitely help you there." 

I nearly yelped as he lifted me from the bed bridal style. 

"Is this your way of saying you want shower sex?" I wriggled my eyebrows at him. 

"I had not really thought of it, but if you insist." 

I laughed and snuggled into his chest. 

He paused a moment, really looking me over now. "I am truly sorry, Y/N. For everything." 

I placed a hand on his cheek. "Apology accepted." 

NEXT - (Outtake)

{Masterlist}

Translation (Done via Google): Tesoro: Darling/Treasure  Mio Cara: My darling.  Principessa: Princess 

Wanna be notified when I post a new story? Ask to join my taglist!

[punkshort]

Chapter warnings: language, graphic depictions of violence, explicit smut (MDNI), little bit of sub!joel in this one, jealous/possessive smut, graphic descriptions of and references to SA - please proceed with caution if this is a trigger for you

Chapter Sixteen

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

You could feel Joel’s eyes burning a hole in your back as you followed the guards down the hallway to a common room area. After realizing Joel’s ex-fiancée was conveniently one of the leaders in this community, you had shut down and refused to look at him. You knew it was irrational. How could it be his fault? It just set your teeth on edge, especially considering the reservations you were already having about this place. The man with the dark hair and thick eyebrows jutted his chin out towards Joel and pointed in the direction of the men’s restroom.

“You go in there, we need to check you over for bites,” Joel hesitated, looking back at you, but you continued to stare straight ahead. “It’s standard procedure, we do it for all new intakes. It keeps us safe, don’t take it personally.” Joel took a step towards you, trying to catch your gaze but you were fixated on your feet.

“You gonna be alright for a minute?” he murmured to you.

“Mhm,” you gave a quick nod, eyes still cast down, trying to quell your irritation.

He paused, then glanced around at the group of people waiting for him. He grumbled and turned to enter the restroom, the dark-haired man following. Amy slinked up next to you and placed her hand lightly on your shoulder. It took everything you had not to shrug her hand off as you raised your eyes to look at her. By all accounts, she was pretty. She had bright blue eyes and blonde hair, although you noticed it was a few shades darker than the picture you had seen in Joel's apartment. You could see she was closer to Joel's age by the fine wrinkles developing around her eyes and mouth. She tried to give you a reassuring smile, but it just came off as insincere.

"You can follow me in here," she motioned towards the women's restroom. "I'll look you over real quick and we can get you something to eat." Reluctantly, you followed her into the women's room. You set your backpack down against the wall and took your jacket off before looking to her for direction. She was regarding you carefully with a curious smile.

"You don't talk much," she said, motioning for you to take your shirt off. You began to unbutton your flannel and shrugged at her comment, still choosing not to speak. You took the flannel off and hung it over your crossed arms, feeling exposed in your bra in front of Joel's ex. She walked around you slowly and lifted each of your arms to get a good look at your skin. Amy motioned for you to drop your jeans, so you tugged the flannel back over your arms, leaving it unbuttoned, and reached down to pull the denim off your legs. She did the same thing, walked around slowly and inspected you closely, even tugging on the back of your underwear to check your ass before snapping the band back. You were facing the door with only your shirt partially covering you when you heard a sharp knock.

"Come in," Amy called, still looking you over. You turned to her in surprise, clutching your flannel shut to preserve your dignity before the skinny redhead entered the room, his eyes raking up and down your body before clearing his throat to address Amy.

"The man's clear, what do you want us to do with him?" he asked.

"Let's take them to the cafeteria and get them something to eat before we assign them rooms, thanks Ian." she replied, then motioned for you to put your jeans back on. You awkwardly bent over to pull your legs through as quickly as possible, but Ian had already left. You hastily buttoned up your flannel before shooting her a glare, and she smirked in response. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"We only need one room, thanks," you said, not letting your gaze waver. It seemed that you confirmed for her what she already suspected, giving you a tight smile and a nod before ushering you back into the common room. Joel was waiting anxiously against the wall for you to emerge, pushing himself off to come over to you, but you kept up the attitude, still refusing to look him in the eye.

Ian, thick eyebrows, and Amy led you both down another floor and through a hallway before reaching a large cafeteria where clusters of people sat at various tables. All eyes turned towards you as you walked in, regarding you curiously. You kept your eyes straight ahead as you were led to a table and invited to sit. Joel sat next to you on one side of the table while Amy chose to sit directly across from him. Ian went to get you each a bowl of soup and thick eyebrows stood guard behind Amy.

"It's been a long time, Joel. How did you get here?" she asked him, completely ignoring you.

"Walked," he said curtly, crossing his arms over his chest. She nodded, picking up on his tone.

"And Tommy?" she said softly, biting her lip. You tried you best to keep from rolling your eyes. You didn't appreciate the sweet tone she was taking with him. Maybe you were just paranoid, maybe she was just being nice. But your gut was telling you otherwise.

"Don't know," he said gruffly, trying to avoid her eyes by looking around the room. He noticed the skinny red-haired guy waiting for your food and standing with a big brute of a man in the corner of the room, eyeing you up closely. He glanced over at you, unaware of the men staring at you. He knew you were pissed, but you could at least look at him. He clenched his teeth when he looked back at the men who were very obviously leering in your direction now and whispering to each other. He possessively tucked his arm over your shoulders, feeling you tense up under his touch. The men slid their gaze over to Joel now, who raised his eyebrows at them expectantly. They grinned at each other and shook their heads, turning away and focusing on the food counter.

You finally looked in his direction now, giving him a confused look. The motion was not lost on Amy as she stared at Joel's arm around you for a second too long before breaking away and looking back at him, forcing a smile.

"Well, I'm so glad you are safe and that you made it here. We have a community of about 60 people so far, most of us strangers. We all pitch in where we can, so we will be assigning some work to you both. And I know what you're thinking," she said, holding up her hand, "but it's not like the QZs. We don't ration people's food or supplies. Our long-term plan is to find a safe area away from the city where we can make a home." She continued to look directly at Joel the whole time she spoke, and it was getting on your nerves. You knew it shouldn't, you knew he loved you, but you couldn't help it. You cleared your throat loudly, finally dragging her gaze from Joel and onto you.

"What kind of work?" you asked, and you felt Joel's hand squeeze your shoulder slightly.

"Patrols, guard duty, cooking, cleaning, laundry... that sort of thing. Whatever needs to be done, we all take turns and do our part." At that, she narrowed your eyes to you, as if there was a double meaning to her words that you couldn't decipher.

"That's fine, we understand. We'll help out." Joel said, drawing Amy's attention back towards him. She gave him a warm smile.

"Perfect. And here's your food," she said, looking over your shoulder as Ian placed bowls in front of you both. "I'll let you two have some privacy, when you're all set, I'll be over there," she pointed to a table that you now noticed sat the four other leaders you briefly met earlier. "And then I'll show you to your room." She emphasized the last word and glanced quickly at you before standing up and walking over to the other table, followed closely by Ian.

You gulped and looked down at your soup, suddenly feeling nauseous. Something about what Amy said didn't sit right with you but you couldn't put your finger on it. You lazily stirred the soup and took a few small sips before giving up and leaning back in your chair. Joel noticed your lack of appetite and brought his hand down to squeeze your knee.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, "I didn't know."

You scoffed and folded your arms across your chest, looking at a fixed point on the wall.

"You sure about that?" You asked coldly. He dropped the spoon in his bowl before glancing at you sideways.

"How the fuck would I know?" he said lowly, trying to make sure he wasn't overheard. You shook your head, not wanting to get into an argument.

"You done yet? I'm tired, I need to get some sleep." You pushed your chair back with your legs and strode over to the leader's table, knocking firmly on the end to get their attention. Amy's eyes shot up to you after breaking off a quiet conversation with one of the men.

"Ready," you said, as you felt Joel come up beside you. She nodded and stood.

"Ok, follow me. I had Ian take your backpacks to your room already." She motioned for you both to follow her and you turned on your heel to do just that, Joel following behind you quietly.

Amy led you both up to the third floor. About halfway down, she stopped and unlocked a door, then gave the key to Joel before pushing the door open. The dorm was small, as expected, with two twin beds on either side of the room. You noticed a small bathroom with only a sink and toilet in the corner and your backpacks on the end of the beds.

“You two probably had a long journey, why don’t you get some rest. There are some toiletries in the bathroom. Breakfast starts at 7 in the morning. I’ll find you in the cafeteria and give you your work assignments once leadership decides,” she looked directly at Joel when she added, “please let me know if you need anything.” Then she excused herself, softly shutting the door behind her. You rolled your eyes and collapsed on the bed with your backpack on it, throwing your arm over your face.

“Alright, lemme have it,” Joel said roughly, tossing his backpack on the floor and sitting on the other bed. “It’s my fault. We walked halfway across the country to a city I had no idea she even lived in on the off chance we would find her, right?” He glared at you, fuming, but you just laid there with your arm covering your eyes. “C’mon already, tell me how this is my fault.”

“Did you know that was her voice on the radio?” you asked quietly, your arm still draped over your face.

“Did I – what?!” he exclaimed, standing up. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? ‘Course not! I don’t know if that even was her recording!” You shook your head and rubbed the heels of your hands into your eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Look at me,” he demanded, but you shook your head again. You just wanted to sleep and forget this ever happened. You wanted to wake up back at the white house with blue shutters, or even on the forest floor at this point. He walked to your bed to stand over you and noticed a tear trickling down the side of your face, heading towards your ear. “Sweetheart,” he began, softer this time, but you stopped him. You sat up and crawled backwards, so your back was against the headboard, putting more space between the two of you.

“I don’t like it here,” you told him flat out, wiping at the stray tear. “There’s something off, I can’t put my finger on it, but the way she looked at me when she talked about everyone doing their part… I don’t like it.” He snorted and sat down at the end of your bed, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“You gotta give it a chance. We just got here a few hours ago. Give it a week,” he said, dropping his hand and looking into your eyes. You could see the desperation behind his gaze as he rubbed absentmindedly at his chest. “Give it a week, and if you still don’t like it, we’ll go.” You sighed, knowing you couldn’t argue with him. It was a good compromise, so you squeezed your eyes shut and nodded.

“Fine,” you whispered, your chin dropping to your chest. He grinned, leaning forward to pull you in for a kiss that you barely reciprocated. He got up to unpack some of his things while you turned on your side and pulled the blanket over you, eager to get some sleep.

The next morning, you and Joel sat together at a table eating a breakfast of oatmeal, some kind of animal meat you couldn’t name, berries, and coffee. You were starving since you decided to be dramatic and skip dinner yesterday, so you barely noticed when Amy and the others walked in to sit down at their table, her eyes immediately traveling over to Joel and gave him a flirty wave. He nodded in her direction and focused back on his food, muttering something under his breath.

“What?” you asked, popping the last of your berries into your mouth. He sighed and leaned in a little closer.

“She’s here,” was all he said, and you could feel your body tense up. You knew you had to see her again today, but you couldn’t control your reaction. You drank the last of your coffee as she glided over to your table, giving Joel a huge grin, and once again pretending you didn’t exist.

“Good morning! I hope you slept alright,” she said brightly. Joel grunted and nodded.

“We slept fine, thanks,” he replied, his hand drifting to your knee under the table. You warmed a bit at the touch, knowing he was trying to make you comfortable.

“I have your work assignments for the week. Joel, you’re on guard duty, second shift,” she winked at him before whispering, “I pulled some strings, usually newcomers have to take third shift,” then she raised her voice back up to a normal level before addressing you for the first time. “You’re on kitchen duty with Maryanne. She’s a sweetheart, she’s excited for the extra help. You’re scheduled from 10am to 7pm today.” She handed out your assignments written out on index cards, confirming the times and the locations. You were getting sick of her subtle flirting, the wink and the whisper finally tipping you over the edge. You hooked your leg over the top of Joel’s and leaned forward, draping your arm over his shoulders, pretending like she wasn’t even there.

“Baby, isn’t this so great? Our work shifts practically overlap, we’ll be able to be together at night,” you trailed a finger over his shoulder as he shot you a surprised look. He had only heard you call him that when you were having sex, and as if you had conditioned him, his cock jumped in his pants when he heard the affectionate nickname. He cleared his throat and looked back and forth between you and Amy, who tried to hide her displeasure with a fake smile.

“Yeah, it’s good, sweetheart,” he took the cards and looked back up at Amy. “Thanks, I’ll be seein’ ya at 2.” She nodded curtly and swiveled around to head back to her table. Joel chuckled under his breath as he rubbed the inside of your thigh.

“Did that make you feel good?” he teased, taking a sip of his lukewarm coffee.

“Oh, I can think of something that feels better,” you said, making him sputter into his mug. He wiped his mouth and looked at you, eyes wide and eyebrows raised, and you couldn’t contain your smirk. He cleared his throat and rested his chin in his hand, looking around the room, as he tried to wait out the erection he had under the table.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he murmured, unable to keep the grin from his face as he slid your leg off his lap.  You grinned at him, pleased at his reaction.

“We have a few hours to kill, you know,” you whispered as you got up from the table and dumped your dishes into the empty bin by the garbage, only meeting his eyes once before you exited the cafeteria and headed back to your room.

He was only a few minutes behind you after you left, slamming the door and snatching your face in his grip, pulling you close and hungrily exploring your mouth. You moaned into him, your tongue flicking at his teeth sloppily as you both hurriedly undressed each other.  Joel walked you backwards towards your bed, but at the last minute you twisted around and pushed him back. He flopped down onto the mattress, flinging his arms behind him for support as he gazed up at you, panting for air. Your pants had already been undone and pushed down, but you pulled them the rest of the way off as he did the same. You flung your t-shirt over your head and stood before him in just your bra and underwear. He was in the process of removing his shirt when he paused to drink you in, then whipped it over his head to the corner of the room.  He reached out to grab your waist, but you took a step back and shook your finger from side to side.

“Be patient,” you demanded, and you watched his gaze instantly darken at your tone. He slowly brought his hand back and instead palmed his cock through his boxers, watching you spin around and slowly unhook your bra. You shot a sly glance over your shoulder at him as you wiggled out of it and tossed it to the side. His lips were parted and flushed as he stared at your back, eagerly waiting for you to turn around. When you did, you kept your hand over your breasts, playfully batting his hand away when he reached out.

“Take them off,” he told you hoarsely, his eyes burning into you. You tsked at him and shook your head, making him groan, but he remained seated on the bed. You took a small step forward and lifted your other hand out to tip his chin up.

“I’m going to be the one in charge today, is that clear?” you asked him with a raised eyebrow. He nodded feverishly, his jaw slack.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, and you smiled at the term. You rewarded him by planting a quick kiss on his lips before pulling back.

“Good boy,” you muttered, dropping your hand from your tits and finally revealing yourself to him. His body jumped in response, but he forced himself to remain seated, looking back and forth between you and your breasts, silently pleading to allow him to touch you. You stepped forward and pushed him back, making him turn his body so his head was resting against the pillow. You lifted your leg and straddled him, bringing his hands up to grip your waist. He groaned and began to roll his hips into yours, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him. He let out a puff of air as he clenched his teeth, bringing his hips down to rest on the bed.

You hummed as you traced a finger down his neck and over his broad chest, his eyes never leaving your face.

"Tell me, Joel," you began casually, as your finger slowed near his boxers. "Do you want to fuck me?"

He let out a rush of air from his lungs he didn't realize he was holding, nodding as his grip on your waist tightened.

"Yes," he choked out, "yes, I want to fuck you."

You smiled as your fingernail gently scraped back and forth along the top of his pubic hair, the sensation making him shiver.

"And what about her?" you asked him as your finger stilled. "Do you want to fuck her?"

He stared at you for a moment, finally realizing where this shift was coming from. You were jealous. Jealous of Amy, of all people, who ripped his heart out and didn't think twice. If only you knew the whole story.

"No," he said firmly, making sure you were looking him in the eye. "Only you. I'm so deeply in love with you that it fuckin' hurts."

He could tell that pleased you by the way your eyes lit up, but you refused to smile and give yourself away. Instead, you hummed and leaned your head to the side, gently grinding yourself onto his cock. His eyes fluttered closed as he focused on not reciprocating for fear of losing the contact if he did so without permission. He groaned quietly when he felt your folds slip over his cock through the cloth, desperate to rip both your underwear off and bury himself inside you.

"You like that, baby?" you moaned as your pace picked up speed.

"Yes," he gasped, his eyes snapping open. "I want you so fuckin' bad, please," he begged. You smiled down at him sweetly but then you slid off his hips towards the end of the bed. He found himself almost reaching out to pull you back up when he realized you were yanking down his boxers, tossing them on the ground before slowly crawling up the bed on all fours towards him, your pointed nipples grazing against his legs. He reached out to grab your shoulders and pull you up to his mouth, but he stopped himself, his hands hovering in the air, waiting for permission. You noticed his restraint, your eyes bouncing back and forth between his hands suspended in the air. You paused when you reached his stomach, giving him a smile before dipping your head down and running your tongue leisurely up the length of his cock, flicking his slit with the tip of your tongue before pulling away.

He brought his hands up to his head and clutched his hair, his breathing labored. His eyes found yours right before you dipped back down to pull the tip of him into your mouth, pulling a deep groan from his chest. You wrapped your thumb and middle finger around his base to keep him still, and keeping your eyes on his face, you slowly brought your lips down further, inch by inch, until he touched the back of your throat. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, and it made you smirk before slowly pulling back up and released him with a pop.

"Fuck," he gasped, his hands still clutching his hair, "fuck, that feels so good." You could feel your arousal ruining your underwear, the fabric becoming uncomfortable.

"Yeah?" you questioned before pulling the length of him back into your mouth, this time fisting his base in your hand as you bobbed up and down on him. You released him from your mouth but kept jerking him off as you spoke, spreading your saliva down the length of him.

"Did she ever fuck you this good?" you asked as he met your heated gaze. He shook his head wildly back and forth.

"No," his voice was strained, "never. No one's ever made me feel the way you do." You could hear the sentiment behind his words. He was trying to convey more than just a physical feeling, and you felt your chest flush with pride.

You quickly removed your hand and yanked your panties off, hovering over his hips and lining him up with your entrance. Before you pushed down, you brought your eyes up to meet his once more. His chest was heaving, his hands fisted at his sides, and his gaze focused solely on you. You could see in that moment that your jealousy was meaningless. Regardless of what Amy felt, you finally realized you had Joel wrapped around your finger, and nothing else mattered.

"Where do you want to touch me?" you asked him quietly, still not allowing him to enter you.

"Everywhere," he said instantly. You nodded your approval, and his hands flew up to your tits, massaging them gently between pinches of your nipples. You moaned and tipped your head back, your hands resting on the backs of his as you slowly sunk down on him. His hands froze as he focused entirely on the sensation, grunting when you finally bottomed out.

You gasped and brought your head forward to look at him.

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of that feeling," you whispered. You bit your lip as he gently thrusted into you, testing to see if you would chastise him. You gave him a warning look, so he stopped and brought his hands down to grip the meaty part of your hips, his eyes glued to where you were connected. You planted your hands on his soft stomach, then lifting your hips up, started bouncing lightly up and down. He watched your breasts sway back and forth in front of him, hypnotized. Your eyes closed as you enjoyed the feeling of him sliding in and out, alternating between bouncing and rolling your hips. You could feel his fingers gripping you so tightly you were sure he was going to leave bruises, but the thought of him marking you just made you move faster, panting now at the effort.

You opened your eyes, looking down at his pained expression. His brow was furrowed and his jaw clenched tight as he stared up at the ceiling, focusing all his energy on remaining still and not slamming into you. You smirked, enjoying how difficult it was for him. You moved one of your hands off his stomach to cover one of his own, then pulled it forward so his thumb pressed against your clit. His eyes dragged from the ceiling back to your face, and immediately pressed small circles on your swollen bundle of nerves. You gasped and gripped his wrist, bouncing faster and leaning forward to hover over him.

"C'mon, sweetheart," he said through gritted teeth. "Let me have it, I wanna feel you." You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut as you felt the pressure in your stomach build. Joel kept his hips pinned to the mattress as you used him to get yourself off, rolling your hips and grinding down on him as his thumb worked your clit in circles, then side to side until you cried out his name, frozen for a moment as your release washed over you, then collapsed on his chest, burying your face in his neck.

You rode out your orgasm with tiny thrusts on top of him. His thumb slowed until he sensed your overstimulation and pulled it away to rest on your hip. You nipped on his neck, leaving a couple red marks on his collarbone. His muscles and tendons were pulled taught and his skin shined with sweat, waiting for you to give him what he wanted.

"Oh," you whispered, feigning innocence. "Did you want to come, too?"

He growled in response, and you felt his cock twitch inside you. You hummed and pushed yourself back up to look him in the eye.

"I didn't hear you," you said. His eyes were dark, and he stared at you before relenting.

"Yes," he whispered. "Please."

You smiled and pressed your lips against his, then murmured against his mouth, "Go ahead."

Like a dam that broke, his hips snapped up into you with a grunt, his pace relentless as he pounded into your sore cunt, gripping your hips and holding you down as he chased his high. You cried out, his thrusts a little painful, but you knew it wouldn't be much longer as his movements became sloppy and he gasped for air. It wasn't long before he groaned your name and yanked your hips straight up in the air, pulling himself out, then brought you back down to pin his slick cock between you both, spilling his release all over his stomach.

"Bad girl," he gasped, making you laugh.

"I don't remember hearing you complain," you teased and gave him a quick peck on the mouth before you stood up to find a rag from your backpack, cleaning you both up and then sliding next to him on the small bed. Joel drew small circles on your back as he struggled to catch his breath. When you moved to stand, he grabbed your arm and looked at you questioningly.

"I have work soon," you explained, "and now I need to shower again." He shook his head and brought your hand to his face, flipping it over and planting a kiss on the inside of your wrist.

"I want you to smell me on you all day," he said lowly and shot you a wink. You blushed, feeling a familiar stir in your lower abdomen.

"Well, in that case, I guess I have a few more minutes to spare," you said, climbing back into the bed, draping your arm over his chest.

Maryanne was very sweet. She was probably in her early 40s, with curly brown hair and thin lips. She seemed very grateful to have the help as she showed you around the kitchen. Another girl, Chloe, was mixing something for lunch in a large bowl while you learned the ropes from Maryanne. She was just explaining to you that the source of their fresh vegetables was from the college campus where they had a greenhouse when the dark-haired guard entered the room. He sent you both a glance and you felt Maryanne stiffen next to you. He made his way to Chloe, touching her elbow and whispered something in her ear. She hung her head and dropped what she was doing as he led her out the door. You looked to Maryanne for an explanation.

"That's Keith. Some of the guards come in here and need our help with other things," she was choosing her words very carefully and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

"What kind of 'help'?" you pressed, but she just shook her head and gave you a forced smile.

"It's not a big deal, dear. We all just take turns helping out around here whenever needed," and with that, she returned to the bowl Chloe had abandoned.

You looked back at the door they had just exited, the pit in your stomach returning. You shook your head, telling yourself Joel was always nearby, that you didn't have anything to worry about.

Chloe returned about an hour later, her eyes cast down, avoiding your gaze. Maryanne asked if you wouldn't mind serving the food at the counter today, a task usually assigned to Chloe. You assured her it was fine, shooting one more glance over your shoulder before heading to the counter.

All your worries disappeared when you looked up and saw Joel on the other side of the counter, a big smile on his face.

"Hey there, sweetheart," he leaned over to press a kiss on your lips. "How's it goin'?"

You briefly considered telling him your concerns, but you were already feeling guilty for complaining so much. He looked so much happier and at ease, so you just smiled and told him everything was fine.

Later that night, you stayed awake until he came back around 11pm from his first shift, looking exhausted. He flopped down on his bed and turned his head towards you.

"I missed you," he said, giving you a smile. You smiled back and walked over to give him a kiss, cradling his jaw in your hand.

"How'd it go?" you asked, turning to sit on your bed a few feet away. He sighed.

"Good. Fine. Just mostly walkin' and patrolin' around. Lots of stairs. You'd think I'd be used to the exercise by now," he replied.

"Who did you work with?" you asked, hoping Amy wasn't involved.

"Keith, that guy who brought us in the other day," and you bristled at his name. You opened your mouth to tell him about Chloe, but snapped it shut when you saw he was beginning to fall asleep. You pulled your blanket over you and turned out the light, once again pushing your worries from your mind for another day. You promised him a week, and you were going to see it through.

It was your third day in the cafeteria with Maryanne and Chloe. Chloe seemed in better spirits today, joking around with you as you chopped vegetables as Maryanne was manning the stove, stirring some venison in a big frying pan. You were beginning to feel at ease again, giving Joel a quick kiss after dinner was served before he had to get back to work. You were bringing dirty pans into the kitchen, then froze when you saw Keith leaning against the wall. Your eyes flicked to Chloe. Her head was down, focusing intently on scrubbing a serving spoon. You pushed yourself forward and put the pans in the sink, about to pick up a sponge when you felt his hand on your shoulder.

"Come with me," was all he said. You tried to hide the tremor in your hands. You glanced back at Chloe, but she was avoiding your gaze. You turned to look at him, gripping the edge of the sink so your hands would be steady.

"What for?" you asked, trying to keep the frown from your face.

"I got some work for you," he said. You exhaled shakily as you followed him out of the kitchen and into a hallway. You noticed the corridor was empty and silent as you whipped your head around to try to locate another person. Your heart was hammering in your chest. Something was wrong.

He opened a door and motioned for you to enter. You hesitated, but then saw the gun slung over his back, and forced yourself to walk through the door. You were confused when the light flicked on and you saw it was a broom closet. You turned around to question him when Keith shut the door firmly behind him and immediately wrapped his arms around you, pushing his open mouth on yours, his tongue demanding entry. You shoved him back as hard as you could, but he only stumbled back half a step.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" you exclaimed, backing up and hitting a wall.

"Didn't the girls tell you?" he said, advancing on you again. "I know Amy must've told you," and he grabbed you again, forcing your hand to rub against the growing erection in his pants. You pushed him back again and tore your hand away, your wrist burning after escaping his grasp.

"There's a misunderstanding, I'm with Joel, I'm not interested," you tried to make a move for the door, but he blocked you.

"There's no misunderstanding. This is what all the women do. We protect you, and you give us what we want." He was growing impatient now as he lunged forward, and you let out a scream. He wrapped a hand around your neck, cutting off your voice and forcing your face to look up at him.

"Shut the fuck up," he growled as he fumbled with your jeans. You struggled for air as tears streamed down your face. No, no, no, no.

"Stop!" you gasped, your vision growing fuzzy. He shoved his hand down the front of your jeans and inserted two fingers inside you, making you writhe and claw at his face with every ounce of energy you had.

"Knock it off and I'll let go," he whispered angrily. "If you play nice, this goes a lot easier." Desperate to get his hand off your throat, you nodded. He released your neck and pulled his fingers from your pants, and you bent over to cough, tears and snot streaming down your face and onto the floor.

"Alright, enough. Get up, hands on the wall," he demanded. You must have moved too slow because he yanked you up by the shoulders and whipped you around, but not before you saw the large hunting knife on his right hip. He was pulling your jeans and underwear down around your ankles, and then slid his hand from behind to push his fingers back inside you. You stifled a cry at the intrusion.

"That's it, see? Isn't that better? Fuck," he grunted, pulling his fingers back out to fumble with his belt. You jerked your hand back and grabbed the knife from his hip, jabbing it into his side twice. He let out a surprised yell and fell to the floor, clutching his ribs. You frantically pulled your jeans back up, and still gripping the knife, ran out the door and up the stairs to your dorm, slamming the door behind you.

Joel knocked on the door, entering when he heard Amy's response from the other side. He walked in and glanced around, noticing he was alone with her for the first time. He kept the door ajar and stood as close to the wall as possible.

"What'dya need?" he asked, keeping his eyes pinned on the wall behind her.

"Why don't you sit down, Joel?" Amy replied, giving him a sweet smile from the round table in the middle of the room. There was a large map spread out over the top with a few pencils next to it. He hesitated before deciding to enter the room further, sitting down in the chair across from her. He didn't want to come off as ungrateful for being taken in, but he didn't want to feed into your jealousy, either. She looked at him warmly from across the table.

"You look good, Joel," she said. He grunted and shifted his eyes down to the map.

"What'dya need'?" he repeated, "Ian told me you needed help up here liftin' somethin'." Amy leaned forward across the table and reached her hand out to him. He just stared at it, his hands remaining in his lap.

"Do you think it's fate?" she asked, "what are the chances we would meet again?"

"No," he replied gruffly, glaring at her, "just real dumb luck."

Amy stood from the table, trailing her fingers around the edge before coming to a halt next to him.

"How are you fitting in here, Joel?" she asked, her fingers inching toward him. "Is the work detail ok?"

"Yep," he nodded, trying to lean away. "I'm more tired than I expected but I guess that comes with age."

"Can I help you with anything? Anything to help you relax?" she murmured, her hand running up his arm now. He shuddered and rolled his shoulder to push her hand away.

"No, I'm fine. I should be gettin' back," he frowned, standing up to put some distance between them, but Amy reached her hand out and grabbed his wrist.

"You know, Dave died the very first day," she said.

"I'm sure you'll understand if I don't feel bad about that," he said, pulling his arm back.

"I know. I'm so sorry for what I did to you, Joel. You deserved better than that," she stepped closer and ducked down to catch his eye, batting her lashes at him. "Will you let me make it up to you?" She reached an arm out and palmed him through his jeans. He jumped backwards and swatted her hand away.

"You know I'm spoken for, what the hell are you thinkin'?" he exclaimed, taking another step back. He scowled at Amy when she didn’t reply, his eyes burning and jaw clenched. "You were right, I deserve better, and I got it."

"Oh, Joel, it's not that big of a deal, relax," she said, rolling her eyes. "That's just how it is here. Us girls understand that, don't worry," she cooed, reaching out to him again but he took a big step backwards.

"What the fuck does that mean?" he glowered, fists clenched at his sides.

"Why don't you ask your girlfriend? She understands what's expected, from what I can tell," she smirked.

"What?" Joel asked, deathly quiet.

"The girls here understand there's a price that comes with safety. She's been giving you what you needed in exchange for protection, right?" Amy looked at Joel, confusion written all over her face, as if it were so obvious. He stared at her, shocked at what she was saying.

"You're tellin' me all these men here are havin' their way with the women, against their will?" His eyes narrowed at her, and she scoffed.

"Oh, come on! They all understand! It's not ideal but it's better than getting ripped apart by those... those things!" she exclaimed, getting heated and waving her arms. "You don't think that girl's been sleeping with you without any ulterior motive?"

"Fuck you, you don't know shit about her," Joel swiveled around and swung the door open. He stormed down the hallway to head back to his post when she called after him.

"I might not know her, but I'm willing to bet some of the guys here do!"

As he pounded down the steps, fuming, he had a sudden realization. If the men here are used to taking advantage of all the women, then it was only a matter of time before they approached you. His chest squeezed as he made his way up the stairs two at a time, running to your room as he glanced at the time. It was just past 7, you might be back by now. He ran down the hall when he saw the light on under the door, slamming it open.

You were hovered over your backpack, frantically shoving all of your clothes and belongings into it, struggling to make them all fit. Your hair was a mess and your clothes disheveled You swung around wildly when you heard the door whip open. You had a huge knife covered in blood in one hand as you stumbled backwards, your face streaked with tears.

"It's me, hey, hey, hey! Calm down, what the fuck happened? Whose blood is this?" He knelt down in front of you and you flinched, tucking your knees into your chest, your grip tight around the handle of the knife. You rocked back and forth and shook your head as fresh tears fell from your eyes. Then he saw the marks on your neck.

"What happened?" he asked quietly, dreading the answer. He was too late, he was too late.

"H-he tried," you sobbed, covering your face with your free hand. "He t-tried- I can't- I n-need to leave," you scrambled up and skirted away from his outstretched hands, going back to furiously packing your bag. You weren't sure what you would do for weapons but at least you had the knife.

"Stop for a minute, will ya?" he said sternly, and again you flinched but you stopped, staring down at the bed and avoiding his gaze.

"Did someone hurt you?" he asked, softer now. You gave a quick nod and kept your eyes pinned to the bed. You could sense his body stiffen beside you, but he remained patient.

"Where did they hurt you?" he finally managed to croak out, bracing himself for the answer. You bit your lip so hard you thought you drew blood as hot tears silently streamed down your face.

You couldn't bring yourself to say the words. Couldn't grapple with what happened. All you knew was you needed to get out, get far away from here before his body was found.

"I think you know where," you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut.

Joel's vision went blurry and he fell to his knees on the floor, clutching his chest. His heart was racing and he felt like he couldn't breathe. His hand shook as he reached out to the mattress to hold himself up, his vision narrowing as he gasped for air.

"Joel?" you said, worry laced in your voice. But he hardly heard you. All he could hear was buzzing and the rapid pumping of his heart. He couldn't believe he let this happen. You told him you didn't want to come here, you told him you had a bad feeling, and he didn't listen. This was all his fault. He left you alone after he promised not to. His one job was to keep you safe, and he failed. How could he not see? How was he so blind? You trusted him, and he led you right into the lion's den.

And he was going to kill them all.

"Joel?!" he heard you say, more panicky now. "Joel, please, get up. Please!" His vision cleared and his heart beat slowed a fraction, his chest eased with the realization of what he had to do to fix it.

"Who?" he growled, and you froze, his tone scaring you.

"It doesn't matter. I took care of it. We need to go now, before they find out. Joel!" You called his name as he stood up and headed to the door.

"I'm going to kill every last one of them," he said, his hand on the doorknob.

"Joel, please," you whimpered, a sob rattling in your chest. "Don't leave me. Please, Joel." He sighed and dropped his head, his hand falling from the door. Here he was about to make another stupid mistake. You fucking idiot. Of course she can't be left alone.

He turned back around to you. You were standing next to the bed, your arms wrapped limply around yourself, your eyes bloodshot, lips and nose beet red from crying.

"Did you kill him?" He needed to know. He needed to be sure the man you did this was dead, or he would never be able to move on.

"I'm pretty sure, I didn't stick around, but I stabbed him twice in the ribs, there was a lot of blood, I guess..." you trailed off, unsure now if he was dead or not.

"Alright, let's get our shit and we are walkin' out of here together. I know where our weapons are, we can grab 'em on the way, hurry up." He went to the bathroom and grabbed what little items you both had, stuffing them into his bag along with a few shirts he had folded in a dresser. They didn't bother to confiscate your food, so you were lucky in that regard. He tugged his jacket on and tossed yours on your bed. Once you were both ready to go, he led you out into the hall without a second glance back.

On the main floor he headed towards a small office in the corner, the makeshift armory where all the weapons were locked up for patrol. He tugged your hand in that direction, only pausing when you passed by the broom closet. You winced and turned away at the blood that was seeping out from under the door. He could feel his chest tighten again, but he took two deep breaths, and he felt the tension easing.

"Stay here," he murmured to you. You clutched at him wildly, scared to be left alone. He firmly placed his hands on your upper arms, and crouched down to your level so he could look you in the eye.

"I'm not goin' anywhere, sweetheart. I'm right here. I'm not gonna let anythin' bad happen to you," he inwardly cringed, thinking he already let so many bad things happen to you, but you just nodded, swiping away the tears that fell down your cheeks.

"Give me the knife," he said, and you handed it over, rubbing the heels of your hands deep into your eyes.

Joel swung the door open and saw Keith slumped against the wall, bleeding out. His face was the color of ash, and his eyes were barely open. Joel squatted down in front of him and tapped under his chin.

"Look at me," he said darkly. Keith's eyes fluttered before focusing. When he realized it was Joel, he smirked, and Joel felt his blood run hot.

"Hey, man, I don't blame you," Keith coughed, blood dripping from his mouth. "I don't blame you for keeping her to yourself." Joel ground his teeth and his nostrils flared. "I just... I just wish I got more than a couple fingers in her." Keith gasped out the last words, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Joel reached forward and picked up Keith's right hand, stained with blood.

"These fingers?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. Before he had a chance to respond, Joel flattened Keith's hand on the ground and cut off his pointer and middle finger, quickly covering his mouth when he howled and writhed in pain. Blood spurted everywhere as Keith desperately tried to clutch at his new wounds, but it was no use. Joel could tell the man was losing too much blood. Even if anyone found him, they wouldn't be able to save him. He stood up and watched as Keith's eyes lost what little light was left, then his ragged breathing stopped, his eyes still open.

Joel turned and looked up and down the hallway before focusing his gaze back on you. You clearly had heard the exchange, the room was not very big, but you didn't say anything. The urge to pull you into his arms and soak up all your pain was overwhelming, but he knew he needed to get to the armory and get you back to safety. Night had fallen outside, it was dark enough where you would be able to sneak away unnoticed.

After collecting all your weapons, plus some extra ammo, the two of you crouched by the exit. Joel tilted his watch so it shone in the moonlight, noting the time and trying to remember the patrol schedule.

"Alright, we should be fine. They are patrollin' the east side of the building. You ready?"

You nodded vehemently, and he cracked the door to take a peek, just in case he was wrong. He stepped out and swiveled around for a moment, knowing his presence outside the building wouldn't be abnormal at this time. He nodded to you, and you squeezed through the door before following him into the night, towards the cover of the forest.

Chapter Seventeen

Tag list: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby

[ataliagold]

the edges of your soul i haven't seen yet

This came from wanting to expand on the ideas in 'you're the only one who knows, you slow it down', but consider this a new fic with very similar ideas. I'm not sure how long it'll be yet, but here's the first chapter. Title from Forever by Noah Kahan.

Also on AO3 here.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T (currently)

Tags: modern au, no upside down, autistic steve, steve has a service cat, eddie and steve fall in love while working at a farmers' market, stimming, autistic meltdowns/shutdowns/stimming, platonic soulmates steve and robin, eddie is a sweetheart

Summary: Eddie's reluctantly helping Wayne with his produce stall at the farmers' market. He's resigned himself to a boring summer - until a new face shows up at the market to run a baking stall with his best friend. Steve is...odd, like no one Eddie's ever met.

And it doesn't take him long to fall head over heels for him.

___

Chapter One

Eddie isn’t particularly enjoying his morning.

Not yet, anyway.

He grunts as Wayne loads another box into his arms, adjusting his footing under the weight of the produce, of apples and pears, oranges and grapefruit, of avocados and sweet potatoes and carrots and lettuces…

“Right, that’s the last of it,” Wayne announces, dusting his hands off and locking his pick-up behind him.

“Thank fuck,” Eddie grumbles. He makes his way towards their stall, cursing as he trips a little and loses an apple or two. There’s sweat dripping down his spine already, this summer proving to be particularly hot and humid even at eight fucking thirty a.m.

But Eddie had promised Wayne he’d help him out at the farmers’ market this weekend, since he had nothing better on, since his friends had actually gotten in to colleges and were busy getting ready to move away, since Eddie had been sort of…left behind, with nothing to do but trail after his uncle like a bad smell.

He does as he’s told. Sets the boxes down where Wayne points, helps him set the produce out, puts the little cardboard signs with the prices scribbled on them at the front of the table.

Once that’s finished, Eddie sinks into a plastic camp chair with a sigh, reaching for an apple and loudly crunching into it, ignoring the half-hearted glare Wayne shoots back at him.

There’s only a couple of people here this early – mostly other stall-holders setting up, the occasional dog-walker taking a non-committal glance at the wares, an old lady or two with purses clutched close to their middles.

It’s gonna be a boring morning.

Eddie chucks his headphones on, cranks the music as loud as he’ll get away with, and settles in for several hours of withering in the heat and making sure no one pockets an extra pear.

Eventually, his gaze wanders.

Wayne’s talking to a customer, something about the growing season for oranges or some shit, when Eddie claps eyes on the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen.

He sits up. Swallows, stares because he can’t help it.

There’s a literal god unfolding a table not far away, placing a thin yellow blanket on the top, smoothing it out just so. He’s about Eddie’s age, all olive skin dotted with moles and broad shoulders and golden hair that’s fallen effortlessly into place. Glasses frame his face, his perfect fucking face with those pink lips and square jaw, and even from here Eddie can see the look of concentration on the boy’s face, his brows slightly drawn together as he tucks the blanket in at the corners, as he readjusts several times to make sure it’s completely straight on the table.

A light smack to his knee jolts Eddie out of his daze, forces him to drag his gaze reluctantly back to Wayne. Wayne, who’s frowning at him, shaking his head.

“Turn your damn music down, Eds,” Wayne huffs, “need ya to dig me out some change.”

Eddie doesn’t argue. Lets Wayne believe he was distracted by his music, not by the boy several stalls over.

He rifles through their tin of change, picking out a few quarters, and then sneaks a look back again.

The boy’s bent over the table, light-wash jeans pulled tight across his ass, and Eddie’s pretty sure he’s openly gaping at the guy right now but he can’t fucking help it. It’s a baking stall, by the look of the cupcakes and cookies the boy’s currently placing out on the table, tongue poking ever so slightly out of his mouth as he works. The boy pauses for a moment in front of the table, as if assessing his wares for anything out of place.

“Eddie!” Wayne says again, exasperated. “You got that change, or what?”

Eddie snaps his mouth shut. Turns back to Wayne, hands him the change which his uncle takes with a shake of his head. Once the customer has left with a paper bag of carrots in hand, Eddie makes a decision.

“You want a cookie?” he asks Wayne.

“Huh?”

“A cookie,” Eddie repeats, slowly.

Wayne looks down at his watch. “It’s barely gone nine a.m.”

“So? I’m getting one. You want one, or not?”

After Wayne declines, Eddie heads off with a shrug, making straight for the tall boy still frowning down at his baking, thumb drawing anxious patterns on his index finger.

As he approaches, Eddie’s words die in his throat.

He’d planned on flirting. Was ready to try and charm the pants right off this boy, as quickly as he decently could.

But the closer he got, the more the butterflies began in his stomach.

Because somehow, he only got more attractive with every step Eddie took.

And yeah, he wasn’t usually one for ironed polos and blue jeans and bright white Nikes that looked meticulously clean, but Eddie’s cheeks were reddening and his heart was pounding when he reached the stall.

The boy didn’t turn around at his approach.

Not until Eddie clears his throat a little awkwardly, hand brushing over the back of his neck. Sheepish. Shy. Two things he’s never been in his whole fucking life.

“Uh…hi,” Eddie starts.

The boy’s eyes widen behind his glasses. His hands grasp each other, almost frantically, and his gaze darts from Eddie, to the table, to somewhere off behind him. He opens his mouth briefly, but closes it again without speaking.

Huh, Eddie thinks.

Well, maybe the guy’s even shyer than he is right now.

Eddie tries again. “I saw you setting up, looks good. The…the baking, I mean, not…not you setting up. Well, that too, honestly, but I thought…” Eddie trails off, internally kicking himself.

You fucking idiot, Munson.

The boy blinks at him.

When he still doesn’t speak, Eddie shifts from foot to foot a little, then finally steps over to the table.

“Well, I’m just gonna have a look, if that’s ok?”

The boy nods. Quick, his head jerking a little, the movement stiff and awkward.

Eddie feels his eyes boring into his back as he scans the table. There’s cupcakes with piped-on frosting in several different patterns but all of them yellow, matching the boy’s soft polo that was clinging unfairly to his chest. There’s slices of brownies, cookies of varying flavours, apple pie and cinnamon donuts and red velvet cake and shortbread…

“Did you make all of these?” Eddie asks, a little in awe.

Polo-boy nods, not meeting Eddie’s eye. He’s wringing his hands, clenching his jaw, repeatedly glancing over Eddie’s shoulder as if he’s looking for someone.

“Shit, that’s…there’s so much different stuff here, how long did it take you?” And Eddie’s genuinely curious, he’s not just talking for the sake of it, for the purpose of squeezing at least a word or two out of this guy. Because everything on that table was meticulous – the cookies perfectly round, the pie sliced into completely even pieces, not even a stray dribble of batter or frosting on the cupcake liners (also yellow, Eddie noted) – there’s so much effort gone into this, and Eddie’s impressed.

The boy wants to speak, it looks like.

Eddie waits while he opens and closes his mouth a few times, flapping a hand in front of him.

“Hey Stevie, everything ok?”

A girl wanders over with several cake boxes in her arms, glancing between Stevie and Eddie. She’s got short hair, a dusting of freckles across her face, and a yellow top on to match the boy in front of Eddie, who relaxes a tiny bit as soon as he sees her.

He nods, but doesn’t stop clenching his hands together over his stomach.

The girl puts the boxes down, and steps over to the boy.

“Hey, it’s ok,” she murmurs softly, “we talked about this, remember? You’re fine, just…take a breath, ok?”

Eddie turns away from them. Senses this isn’t a conversation meant for him, and brings his attention back to the table, pretending he’s just…really interested in cupcakes all of a sudden. But he’s only a couple of feet away, and the girl doesn’t seem to care that he can overhear.

“Has he asked to buy something?”

“No.”

It’s the first time Eddie’s heard the boy speak. His voice is quiet, not much above a whisper, but Eddie wants to hear more of it.

“He wanted to know how long it took me,” the boy continues, “to make everything.”

“Ok…so did you answer?”

“No. Wanted to.”

“Your words get stuck?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Well, that’s ok. Here, I’ll help you.”

“Robin -”

“You gotta try, Stevie. You can do it, come on.”

Eddie turns back to them as Robin tows the guy – Stevie? – over by his sleeve.

“Hi.” She grins at Eddie, and the boy stands slightly behind her, looking down at his feet. “This is Steve, I’m Robin. It’s our first time at a market and Steve’s kinda nervous. Can we help you with anything?”

Eddie’s eyes flick back to Steve, to his red cheeks and long eyelashes. His heart thuds in his chest.

He smiles at them. “I’m Eddie, my uncles got a stall just over there.” He jabs his thumb over his shoulder. “We sell fruit and shit. This is really your first day? Your set up is…really nice.”

“Thanks.” Robin beams even wider. “It was all Steve really, he did all the baking too, I’m just here to help out.”

Eddie nods slowly. Steve’s still avoiding his eye, no matter how much Eddie tries to catch it.

Swallowing his disappointment, he points to one of the chocolate chip cookies on the table.

“Can I get one of those, please?”

Robin nods briskly. “Steve, can you sort that?” She nudges him slightly in the side, and Steve springs into action, seemingly happy to give his hands something to do as he grabs a paper bag and looks around the table for something.

He freezes suddenly.

Robin’s back at his side immediately.

“Everything ok?” she asks quietly.

He shakes his head, flaps a hand at the table, face drawn tight in a frown.

“Where’s the…” he mumbles, trailing off.

“The what?” Robin prompts.

Steve bites his bottom lip, hands finding his thighs and tugging at his jeans, frustrated. Seemingly unable to find the word, he brings a hand up to chest height and makes a little snapping motion with his fingers.

“…tongs?” Robin guesses, and Steve nods briskly. “Maybe we left them in the car? I’ll go have a look.”

“It’s fine, you can just use your fingers,” Eddie offers, because he truly couldn’t care less.

Steve shakes his head vehemently, face tightening even further.

“Or…I could grab it?” Eddie tries, but Steve shakes his head again, looking so distressed that Eddie shuts up.

There’s a meow from somewhere behind the table.

A black and white cat emerges from under it, a red collar around its neck, and approaches Steve confidently, pressing up against his legs.

Steve ignores the cat, at first.

He’s digging a thumbnail into the meat of his palm, shuffling from foot to foot every so often, dragging a lip so hard between his teeth that Eddie’s worried he’s gonna make it bleed, and Eddie isn’t sure what to do. He wants to help, wants to somehow soothe the boy, but he isn’t sure how, thinks if he gets any closer to him he’ll only make things worse.

The cats meows again. Presses itself harder up against Steve, stretches up so its little front paws are against his thigh, kneading insistently, refusing to be ignored.

Steve sags a little. Reaches down with a trembling hand, strokes it across the cat’s head, and Eddie can hear the rumbling purr start up from the little creature. He watches as Steve loosens up, as his fingers unclench and his teeth release his lip and the frown fades slowly from his lovely face.

Robin returns, snapping the tongs triumphantly, and hands them to Steve.

He takes them happily and returns to his task, placing Eddie’s chosen cookie into the bag with more care than Eddie’s ever seen from someone serving him food before.

Eddie takes the offered bag, the divine scent wafting out and making his mouth water. Wayne was going to regret not asking for one, he knows.

Steve looks up, catches his eye for the tiniest moment, then his gaze ducks away.

“Thanks, Steve,” Eddie says softly. “This smells great, seriously. And if you guys need anything,” he looks over to Robin to include her, too, “come see me at the fruit stall, I’m just over there.” He points in the direction of Wayne, who’s no doubt getting grumpier by the minute at Eddie’s absence.

Please come, Eddie begs silently, eyeing Steve one last time before he turns away.

“Three days,” Steve blurts out as Eddie starts to walk away.

Eddie pauses, turns back to him.

Steve’s eyes are fixed on his shoes again, and he rocks back and forth on his heels slightly. Robin glances between the two of them, then looks hopefully back at Steve.

Eddie frowns slightly, about to question him, when Steve speaks again.

“It took me three days. To bake everything. Wanted it all to be perfect.”

Eddie smiles, wide and warm.

“It is, Steve.”

___

[rriavian]

Another random fic snippet based on a post I made ages ago, about Dream escaping Burgess's cage and accidentally teleporting straight to the Corinthian like he's got some bizarre major arcana programmed GPS.

@aisalynn helped me shape it into an actual plot idea (that's probably gonna be far more serious than the below) but for the time being please enjoy this slighty cracky little excerpt :)

-

The Corinthian opened the door to leave. 

Dream was standing there.

He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he immediately slammed it shut.

An instinctive reaction that, in hindsight, didn’t exactly give the impression of fearless independence the Corinthian had been going for. Quite the opposite actually. Funny how a split second could so effectively undermine one hundred years of meticulous planning. Well. He definitely needed to find a way to kill Dream now, if only to ensure a retelling of this very unfortunate situation never made its way to Lucienne’s ears. That would be unbearable. Which said nothing for the inevitably smug response of Dream himself. Urgh. The Corinthian might actually have to suffer through him gloating before being finally being destroyed.

How disgustingly underwhelming.

The Corinthian had thought there would at least be some stabbing, had wanted to see pain, raw and perfect, a tapestry of agony displayed across Dream's pretty features. Maybe some tears glimmering in his eyes. He’d thought a lot about their reunion in the last century and strangely enough ‘freak out and slam a door in Dream’s face’ hadn’t quite made the cut.

Hadn’t been on the list of possibilities at all actually.

Not only did it make no sense, but it wouldn’t even slow Dream down, let alone actually stop him. Yet staring at the dark wooden door the Corinthian had closed purely out of reflex, it somehow still seemed the best course of action.

If the Corinthian had a heart it would be pounding. 

What the fuck. 

How had Dream found him so quickly? It had barely been a minute since the Corinthian had felt him escape Burgess’s trap and already Dream had tracked him down? That little murder spree in Berlin must have really pissed him off. The Corinthian had no extra cues to his creators current mood; there had really only been a split second to take Dream in, a split second that, now he came to think of it, included far too much pale skin and nowhere near the expected layers of clothes. In fact, the Corinthian had no memory of any clothing whatsoever. Which was odd enough in itself, without the whole door slamming business, so he was frowning even before he heard the sound…

A single heavy thump like a body falling.

Like Dream of the Endless hitting the floor with a thud.

Which was absurd. 

So much so that the Corinthian couldn’t resist; had to look, needed to do something, because it wasn’t like Dream was likely to just go away, cracking open the door to check and—

Well would you look at that. 

He’d been right.