#but that is such a huge gap in years omg

[frostedmagnolias]

Bodice

circa 1880-1910

“This black bodice is made of silk and features floral embroidery throughout. It is boned and has a pink crepe panel down the center front and a standing collar as well as black bead trim throughout. There are also buttons on the cuffs and it has leg-of-mutton sleeves.”

Grand Rapids Public Museum

[selfcarecap]

Sharing is caring

✧ Logan Howlett x reader x Peter Parker

✧ summary: Your new teammate Peter Parker has a huge crush on you, and your boyfriend Logan has always wanted to watch someone else fuck you. It’s Peter’s birthday and Logan decides to share.

✧ warnings: smut 18+, mmf threesome, oral, unprotected piv, so much cum lol, Peter is very pathetic lmao (and not very experienced) and more of a sub, Logan is dominant and reader is dom-ish for Peter but sub-ish for Logan, little bit of say gex 😋 (oral, Logan receiving), pet names (my girl, good girl/boy, baby, bub), implied age gap (Peter is the youngest – didn’t mention a specific age but early 20s-ish, reader is a few years older, Logan is obv the oldest), Peter being a nerd, lots of teaching Peter (mostly how to go down on each other), also the fic starts with smut right away lol

✧ note: idek if anyone else is interested in this character constellation and needs it as much as i do but they’re my two biggest marvel crushes (in completely different ways) so i had to!!!!! like hellooo😵‍💫 and i really love this omg

✧ word count: 7.5k oops

-

You’re on top of Logan, riding him like your life depends on it. 

Logan’s so good in bed that you usually just let him pamper you; you both like it that way. It’s also what makes the times when you’re on top even more special. Your boyfriend is struggling not to cum in you yet, fingers indenting your hips where he’s grabbing you hard. 

“You feel so fucking good, baby, such a good girl,” he groans underneath you. 

You grin as you lean down to give him a sloppy kiss, pulling away before he’s done with you so you can resume bouncing up and down in his lap.

Logan slides his hand between your legs, beginning to rub your clit as he feels you clenching around him tighter. 

You’re so close.

You’re so fucked out that you barely register the door to your bedroom opening. 

“Hey, do you know if– oh god, sorry!” you hear Peter’s voice, and before you can catch a glimpse of him the door shuts with a bang.

It takes a few moments for your heartbeat to calm down and for you to realise what just happened. Peter walked in on you fucking your boyfriend. Innocent, nervous, adorable Peter Parker – new recruit at the mansion. You’ve only just barely befriended your new teammate and you’re not sure your friendship can handle him catching you like this.

You look down at Logan for the first time, only to see him smiling. 

“He did that on purpose,” he chuckles, hands still resting on your hips as if he’s ready for you to start right back up. You stay on top of him with his cock nestled deep inside you, pulsing, but you can’t get yourself to focus on the pleasure of it.

“He’d never do something like that on purpose. He’s way too innocent for that. He wasn’t meant to see us like that – I bet he’s traumatised!”

Logan laughs again, “Traumatised because he’s not the one fucking you maybe, sure.”

Your mouth hangs open at Logan’s accusation – Peter sees you as a friend, nothing more! You doubt he even thinks about sex, let alone about having sex with you. 

Rising to your knees, you let Logan slip out of you, his cock slapping against his abs with a dull, wet smack, a mix of his precum and your wetness smearing over his skin.

“What? We’re stopping cause of him?” Logan grabs your hand, “He’d get what he wants.”

“Logan,” you warn, somewhat seriously. He’s making Peter out to be someone he really isn’t.

He smiles, adjusting your hips so you’re hovering over him again, jerking his cock and positioning the tip at your entrance. You smile down at him – it’s hard to resist when he looks so good and your pussy is still wet and not yet satisfied.

“Peter did that on purpose, bub,” he repeats, breath becoming laboured as you sink down on him, “You’re not telling me you’ve been oblivious to his crush on you all this time, right?” 

You involuntarily clench your pussy around him, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face looking at him after that. But Logan’s smirking – you don’t have to open your eyes to know that; you can practically hear it. He jerks his hips under you, starting to fuck into you from below.

“Y’like that, baby? Spider-Man’s got a crush on my girl. You don’t know that?”

It almost feels like you’re cumming with how much wetter you get at his words, and you manage to open your eyes to climb off him properly this time, lying down next to him, burying your face into the pillow to hide.

“Noo,” you squeal, though it comes out muffled.

Logan slaps your ass, keeping his hand there to grab your flesh, “Uh-uh, baby. You can’t squeeze around my cock like that and then run away.”

You giggle, leaning up to look at him, “That was just because I was sitting on your big dick. It had nothing to do with Peter.”

“Suure, bub, sure. Can I keep fucking you then?”

You nod, scooting closer to him, both of you on your side. Logan hikes your leg over his hip and slowly thrusts into you as your limbs tangle together. He spits on his hand to rub your clit messily, the way he knows is enough when you were already this close to an orgasm just moments earlier.

“You’re the only one I want, Logan,” you tell him in a quiet voice, distracted by how good he feels inside you as he fucks you, playing with your puffy clit.

“I know that, baby, I know that. I know you’re my girl. My perfect, pretty girl. Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy that someone else has a crush on you. Can’t expect Peter to be blind.”

You cum around his cock then, moaning into his skin as he fucks you through your orgasm, filling you with his own load seconds later.

Logan drops the topic of Peter while you cuddle afterwards, and it’s hard to keep thinking about it when you’ve got your gorgeous, beefy boyfriend next to you, your hand buried in his hair as you massage his scalp the way you know he likes.

It’s when Logan says he’s going downstairs to get you some water that you remember Peter.

“Tell him I’m sorry if you see him.”

“Sure, bub,” Logan says dismissively, kissing your knee with a teasing grin as he gets off the bed. You suppose he’s right – you have nothing to be sorry for. It’s Peter’s fault for walking in without knocking.

But you can’t help but feel bad. He’s an adult, only a few years your minor, but he seems so innocent. He likes you – you can agree with that. He admires you; that much is obvious too, but you don’t know if calling it a crush is an exaggeration. If Logan is right and Peter has a crush on you, you’re sure it’s nothing sexual.

-

Logan can sense Peter from a mile away. Peter is pacing up and down in the kitchen. Logan smiles at the floor as he enters the room.

Spider-Man’s face is flushed – whether it’s from embarrassment or arousal, Logan can’t tell. But the bulge in Peter’s sweatpants assures Logan that he was right in his assumption in the first place. He turns to the sink to pour a glass of water to take upstairs, giving Peter the time to adjust himself.

“My girl says she’s sorry,” Logan says in amusement, turning around, “Didn’t mean for you to see us like that.”

“What? I– no, I’m sorry. I should have knocked,” Peter stammers.

“That’s what I told her.”

Peter doesn’t reply, having a stare contest with the floor so that he doesn’t have to meet Logan’s eyes.

Logan chuckles, “So why’re you in the kitchen and not in your bedroom?”

Peter doesn’t miss the sexual implication. “I feel bad.”

“What, you think people don’t jerk off thinking about their crush just because that person is in a relationship? It’s just in your head, bub, you can do what you want.”

Peter looks up. It’s not that he feels bad towards Logan; he feels bad towards you. But if Logan thinks that way and you’re his girlfriend, maybe that means you share his opinion. Peter is too lost in thought to reply to Logan.

“Suit yourself,” Logan says as he leaves the kitchen. 

-

“Did you see him?” you ask Logan when he comes back.

“Yeah, said he’s sorry, he should have knocked.”

“And he didn’t seem disturbed?”

Logan laughs out loud at your question, “No, baby, don’t worry. He’s not disturbed. His only problem seemed to be how hard he was.”

Your mouth falls open, “Really?”

“Maybe he’s not as innocent as you thought after all, bub,” Logan smirks, pulling you closer.

That revelation turns you on more than you care to admit, to yourself or to Logan.

-

It’s Peter’s birthday a few weeks later and he’s happy as long as he gets to spend it with you. 

He’s not expecting you to get him anything, but you get him a Lego set that he’s been wanting for months. It’s something he’s mentioned to you only in passing and he can’t believe that you remembered.

You make it so hard for him to see you only as a friend when you’re this attentive. To be fair, he’d probably fall in love with anyone who gives him Lego, but he already liked you before. If only your boyfriend wasn’t the most attractive, masculine man in the entire world who, even though Peter’s confident in his skills, could probably maim Peter without any effort at all.

He’s not sure if it’s true, but you’ve told Peter that Logan is busy today, so he can’t join you for Peter’s birthday lunch. He introduces you to his friends and his aunt that have come to his small celebration, and he fantasises that surely some of them must think you and him have a thing going on. May definitely gives him a look when she sees how gorgeous you are, but she already knows all about Peter’s hopeless crush on you.

You kiss Peter’s cheek when everyone leaves, letting him blush in peace as you go up to your bedroom. 

You told him you’d watch a film with him tonight but you seem to have forgot. It’s evening already and he wouldn’t want you to stay up too long for him if you watched the film later. Even if you did forget, he’s grateful he got to spend the day with you.

He’s about to bring his best gift – the one you gave him – upstairs and to his room.

“You like it?” Logan’s voice sounds behind Peter.

“I love it. I’ve wanted this for ages,” he grins.

“I’m glad you appreciate it. She made me threaten a twelve-year-old over it. It was the last set they had at the store.”

Peter grows even fonder of you. He knows he must be blushing, but he also knows there’s no point in hiding it – not since the night he walked in on you and Logan having sex. He’s been hoping Logan didn’t tell you about their run-in afterwards, although he knows he can be a little obvious regardless. It’s hard to hide a crush as big as the one he has on you.

Logan clears his throat, folding his arms, all those muscles bulging, “I’m not the best with material gifts but I’ve got something else for you.”

“Yeah?” Peter’s wary. Logan and him aren’t exactly friends. He wasn’t even expecting you to give him a gift.

“I know you wanna fuck my girl.”

Peter gulps at Logan’s directness, starting to stammer out a few words that make no sense.

“Y’don’t have to deny it. Can’t blame you, can I? You wanna live out your fantasy?”

Peter finds it hard to imagine that this isn’t a trap or some sick joke. “No–no, of course not. She’s your girlfriend and I’d never, I mean, she’d never cheat on you and I’d never try anything. I respect you so much–”.

Logan cuts him off, “Calm down, bub. This isn’t a trick. I’m asking if you wanna fuck my girl for your birthday. We both had the idea,” Logan smiles, and he doesn’t have to wait for a verbal answer to know that Peter wants it – the gleam in his eyes tells him enough, “C’mon. She’s waiting in your room.”

Peter abandons the Lego box on the floor. He couldn’t care less if some student found it and took it for themself. Peter’s on his way to better things.

-

Peter doesn’t let himself believe it until Logan opens the door to his bedroom, and there you are. You’re sitting on his bed – something Peter has imagined many times but never even dreamt of seeing in reality – in the most gorgeous set of lingerie he’s ever seen (not that he’s seen many in real life… or any).

“Hi,” he waves awkwardly, unsure whether to try and hide his growing erection. You’re half-naked only a few feet away from him, and this is better than all of his wet dreams about you combined.

You’re grinning, first at Peter and then at Logan, who closes the door behind Peter.

Logan takes a step forward to bend down and kiss you. It’s a short but sloppy kiss, Logan’s hand resting on your cheek. He looks back, chuckling at how desperate Peter must already look, and sits down in the chair near the bed.

“Hope you don’t mind, I’ve made myself comfortable,” you bite your lip. Even your voice alone could make Peter cum.

“No no no, not at all. You look so gorgeous. I never thought I’d get to see someone look so sexy in real life.”

You giggle and it feels heavenly to be making you laugh like that. You lift your hand for him to take. He gasps when his hand touches yours, and you pull him to the bed with you. He feels like hyperventilating just from being so close to you in nothing but underwear. Peter wills himself to be strong; he can’t embarrass himself and cum right away.

“You know, Logan’s been trying to tell me for a while that you might have a tiny crush on me, and I didn’t believe it at first but…”

Peter laughs nervously before you can finish your sentence, but you don’t have to. Everyone in this room knows how much Peter likes you. All of Xavier’s school probably knows – teachers and students.

“Yeah,” Peter says weakly, cheeks hot.

 “Logan and I thought this could be a nice present for your birthday, if you want. Cause I think you’re cute too, and Logan doesn’t mind sharing me for one night.”

It hurts a little that you only find Peter cute, but he’ll take whatever he can get. Clearly he’s cute enough to fuck, and that’s all that really matters right now.

“Of course I want to, so what are we doing?” Peter doesn’t mean for it to come out so stupidly. He knows you’re going to have sex, he just doesn’t know the details.

“I’m gonna get you nice and hard first,” you say it with a smile, looking down at his lap, knowing exactly that he’s more than hard enough already, “and then Logan’s gonna join us and you can both fuck me at the same time. Does that sound alright?”

Peter grins. “More than alright. I don’t know if I’m gonna last long but I only need a few seconds before I can get hard again,” he tells you proudly, before he remembers that your boyfriend has healing abilities too, far more complex than Peter’s. You’re probably used to going endless rounds. Now he just feels a bit silly for admitting that he can’t last long. 

Peter turns to the side to face Logan. He’s manspreading, arms folded cockily in front of his chest, and it’s unnerving how a single person can ooze that much confidence. Although, if he looked like Logan and had a girlfriend like you, Peter’s sure he would be less insecure too.

“Have you had sex before?” you ask Peter all kindly, and he blushes thinking about the image of him you apparently have in your head. He’s not that experienced, but he’s not that innocent either.

“Yeah,” is all he manages to say at first.

“What have you done?” you ask him, gently resting your hand on his jaw, thumb trailing over Peter’s bottom lip. He stops himself from licking it.

“I’ve, uh, been inside of a woman before and I’ve, like, fingered her. My ex-girlfriend.”

You smile at the unnecessary piece of information, “That’s it? You’ve never had your dick sucked?”

Peter shakes his head, feeling like he’ll cum just from your words, “No, and I’ve never gone down on a woman.”

“You wanna?”

He nods his head so eagerly that it makes you giggle again.

“Maybe later,” you tell Peter, your hand dropping back to your lap.

“You can eat her pussy after I’ve cum in it,” Logan says with a smirk. You give him a look, turning to assure Peter.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to do that.”

Peter looks between you two, “I don’t mind! I’m up for anything.”

You smile, moving to straddle him as you hum, “Good boy.”

He tenses underneath you, eyes screwed shut, and he can’t even enjoy the way he cums as soon as you settle on top of him, your hands on his shoulders. Hot embarrassment floods Peter’s body, and he feels like he might cry.

“Aw, it’s okay,” your voice is nothing but sweet with not even a hint of amusement, and Peter dares to open his eyes. Your face is inches away from his, and your closeness makes him feel less embarrassed.

“You like me that much, hm?” you continue, and Peter hears a quiet laugh from Logan, but he doesn’t care about his opinion, only yours, “I’m flattered you do. Glad you like your gift.”

“I really thought the lego set was my favourite present,” he says. This time he cracks a smile too as Logan and you giggle at his words.

“Let’s get you out of your clothes, okay?”

You get off Peter after he nods, pulling off his shirt. Peter stands up as you kneel in front of the bed to pull off his jeans, biting your lip when you feel how sticky his cum-stained boxers are.

“Look at what a mess you’ve made, baby. So cute.”

Peter swears you’ll stop associating that word with him by the end of the night, although he’s starting to like you calling him that. He takes one glance at you on your knees for him, and he has to look away in fear of cumming again immediately. 

“I know,” Logan tells him, and Peter sees then how hard he already is too. Peter can’t believe Logan gets you like this every night, but for now he smiles at him as they silently bond over how attracted to you they both are. It’s impossible not to be.

Logan’s eyes drift down to Peter’s hard cock, and you’re grinning back up at your boyfriend, “Look how big he is, baby. Almost the same size as you.” The joy in your voice makes Peter stand a little bit taller. He’s proud that you like his dick. It’s probably the proudest moment of his life thus far.

You pull Peter back on the bed, sitting down as you lean back against your hands, “You wanna unwrap your present?”

Peter nods, smiling at the goosebumps that erupt on your flesh as he pulls at the ribbon that you’ve wrapped around your waist. He leans over to place it on his nightstand – he’s keeping that forever.

When he sits down in front of you, the sweet smell of you hits him. He looks between your legs, and there’s a wet spot on your panties. All because of him? He keeps feeling prouder and prouder.

“Thought about this so many times. Jerked off at least three times every single day since I walked in on you two.”

You and Logan smile at each other. He asks Peter, “You did that on purpose?”

Peter doesn’t turn to face Logan, the blush that has only just subsided flaring back up. “N-no. Of course not.” He knows neither of you believe his lie. He couldn’t help himself.

“Don’t worry. She liked it too,” Logan informs him, and Peter’s eyes go wide.

“You’re a handsome boy, Pete,” you shrug, brushing your hand through his hair and he hums at the nickname.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks finally, cock already so hard he can barely think, and you haven’t even done anything yet.

“Go ahead,” Logan says, but Peter pays him no mind.

“I wasn’t asking you,” he says bravely, and your eyes go to those of your boyfriend as you raise your eyebrows.

“Told you he’s got it in him,” you say, pulling Peter close to press your plush lips to his. It’s like an explosion of endorphins, and Peter knows that from this moment on he can die happy. You pull him closer, kisses getting wetter as the sound of them takes over the room, and it’s the hottest thing Peter has ever experienced.

“Here,” you briefly pause, taking his hand and guiding it to the clasp of your bra at your back. He fiddles with it for a few seconds, and you want to give him a chance, but then the bed dips with the weight of Logan, and he opens your bra with ease.

Peter doesn’t know when he took his clothes off, but Logan is naked except for his boxers. He looks nowhere nearly as good as you, of course, but his muscles aren’t exactly an unwelcome sight.

“Isn’t my girl so pretty, Pete?” Logan asks, pulling the straps of your bra down your arms, taking off your bra.

“She’s gorgeous,” Peter rasps, “She’s perfect.” Logan hums in agreement.

Peter has imagined your tits too many times to count, and yet they’re even better than anything he’s fantasised about. He’s too nervous to touch you, but you take his shaky hands, putting them on your breasts.

“Oh my god,” Peter whispers, breathlessly cupping and squeezing at your tits as his cock leaks with precum. He sees you biting your lip as you look at his lap, and Logan takes Peter’s hands off your tits.

“Take off her underwear,” Logan commands as you smile at his words. You lift your hips, upper body leaning against Logan, and Peter pulls your panties down your legs. He throws them off the bed somewhere, hoping you won’t be able to find them again so that Peter can keep them forever.

He moans loudly when you spread your legs, and it’s a wonder that Peter doesn’t cum again just at the sight of your pussy. You’re perfect, and so wet, and he falls to his hands, in front of you on all fours.

“You want her mouth or her pussy first?” Logan asks, although you and him already know the answer.

“Wanna go down on you,” Peter says, unable to tear his eyes away from your pussy. You spread your legs further for him, and he looks up at you with the most adorable puppy eyes you’ve ever seen.

“You can,” you smile.

Peter inhales deeply when he squashes his face between your thighs, trying to burn the memory of how good you smell into his brain forever. 

He doesn’t have a technique, he just starts. You let out a soft moan when Peter licks up your entire pussy once; he moans too as he tastes you. He grabs your soft thighs, putting them over his shoulders as he lies down.

You give him a reassuring smile as he begins to eat you out, experimenting with different licks and kisses. You turn to your side to start kissing Logan, your hand holding his wrist as his arm drapes over your chest.

Peter licks greedily at your pussy, and you reach into Logan’s boxers to start stroking the hard length of him. Your hand is coated in his precum quickly, and he smiles into the kiss before he gently nips at your lip.

“You okay there, bub?” Logan pulls away to smirk at Peter. If you can still kiss Logan that well, then Peter isn’t doing a good job. You both look down to find Peter more focussed on grinding his cock against the bed rather than on eating you out. He blushes.

You reach out to touch his cheek, some of Logan’s precum from your hand wiping against Peter’s face, “you’re so cute.”

He doesn’t even register the word anymore.

“You want Logan to teach you?”

Peter nods, moving only minimally to make space for Logan next to him, both their wide shoulders knocking against each other’s (okay, Logan’s are slightly bigger). Logan huffs but doesn’t say anything, placing one of your legs over his shoulder and pressing your other knee up against your chest.

“Here’s how you do it,” Logan looks at Peter, bending down to press a sloppy kiss right against your clit, coating you in his spit before he begins to gently suck. You squirm immediately, and Peter can’t wait to try it out on you.

Logan pushes two fingers into your wet pussy, moving them in a way that you evidently like. Peter doesn’t know what to look at – your pretty face or your pretty pussy. Logan huffs next to him, “I know she looks good, kid, but you gotta focus if you wanna make her cum.”

Peter nods, watching Logan sucking on your clit and moving his fingers inside you.

“You can use your fingers to fuck her,” he explains.

“I know,” Peter says, his tone perhaps a little more petulant than what he was aiming for, “I just hadn’t gotten her consent to do that yet, so I didn’t.”

You smile at him, “you can do whatever you want to me, Pete.”  

And that’s all he’s ever wanted to hear in his life.

Logan nods at him, sitting back up, and Peter gets between your legs. He knows he’s got it easier now because Logan had his mouth on you for a bit, but it wouldn’t be fair otherwise. Logan is like an old man with loads of experience, and he probably gets to fuck you every night, so he has an unfair advantage.

Your boyfriend gets next to you, kissing you – and it’s all sensual and passionate and wet and Peter can’t help but stare for a few moments. Logan starts touching your tits, groping you and moving to gently play with your nipples.

You pull away from the kiss, a string of spit hanging between your and Logan’s mouth, “Pete?” you ask softly, but Peter can hear some desperation in your voice. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

First, he quickly licks your pussy just to get that heavenly taste in his mouth again, then settles on a more precise movement of his tongue. He circles your clit, hearing you sigh against Logan’s mouth, but Peter isn’t sure if he’s the one who evoked that sound.

He slides two fingers into your pussy, curling them how Logan showed him to. He’s stopped moving his mouth, too concentrated on looking at your face to see a reaction.

“That’s it, Peter, don’t stop,” you moan, pushing his head back down and he happily wraps his lips around your clit, fucking you gently with his fingers.

“Yeah, baby, he’s got you,” Logan says into your neck, “You’ve got her, right, Peter?” he asks all smugly.

“Mhhmmm,” Peter squeaks without taking his mouth off you, and the vibration of his voice seems to make you squirm a bit more. He decides to let himself moan the way he’s been wanting to the entire time, subtly grinding his hips into the bed beneath him as he eats you out and fucks you with his fingers.

You cum with a cry that makes Peter even prouder than he’s been all night, and he thinks he’ll savour the feeling of your thighs squeezing around his head for the rest of his life. He pushes his tongue into your pussy to taste as much of your arousal as he can, stopping when he feels your and Logan’s eyes on him.

“Did such a good job,” you tell him, and he grins proudly. He gets on his knees to lean up and kiss you. Your tongue slides into his mouth, and his heart skips a beat at the way you smile into the kiss. He’s in heaven.

“You wanna fuck me now?” you ask, and Peter’s eyes go wide as he sits up and gets back between your thighs.

“And I want you too,” you smile up at your boyfriend, pulling at the waistband of his boxers. Peter has no idea how Logan has this much self-restraint, watching as he gets off the bed and takes off his boxers with a grin. Peter sees how you drool at the sight of Logan’s big dick, and Peter feels his own mouth watering. 

“Here you go, baby. Gonna be a good girl for me, right? Gonna take my cock? You been waiting for this, hm?” Logan kneels next to you. He holds his cock over your face, lightly slapping the tip against your lips. Peter’s cock pulses against his abs. 

You nod wordlessly, wrapping your lips around your boyfriend’s huge cock. You pull off him only to spit on it, jerking off the lower half of him that’s harder to fit in your mouth. 

The wet sounds coming from you sucking Logan’s cock make Peter’s dick twitch as he spills a new load of precum. It lands on your thigh, getting your attention. 

Peter doesn’t know how you can spare a single moment away from Logan’s cock, but you pull your mouth off him, “You can start if you’re ready,” you smile at Peter. Both of you watch him as he pushes his cock inside you. 

Your warm, velvety walls suck his cock in unlike anything he’s ever felt before. Peter’s eyes flutter shut and he just stays like that for a few moments, the sound your mouth makes around Logan’s cock doesn’t make it easier for Peter. Even if you don’t seem to mind him cumming fast, he’s trying to prevent it, feeling so close again already.

He hears Logan huff out a laugh, and Peter opens his eyes. You’ve stopped going down on your boyfriend, looking at Peter all sweetly.

“It’s okay if you cum quickly, I did too at the start,” Logan confesses. It’s hard to imagine him – the epitome of virility – not being able to last long, even with someone as perfect as you, but it makes Peter feel better about himself, by a lot.

“I really don’t mind it, Pete,” you smile, and Peter nods. He looks down towards where you’re joined, your pussy stuffed with his cock. Even though you’re used to something even bigger, there’s an obvious strain, and you’re squeezing around him hard even when he’s not moving.

You and Logan watch as Peter starts to fuck you, your hand on your boyfriend’s cock, lazily jerking him off. Logan doesn’t seem to mind watching Peter pushing into you slowly. The two pairs of eyes make him feel more self-conscious, yet it’s also invigorating.

Peter clumsily rubs at your clit, at least attempting to focus on something other than how good he feels.

“You’re so tight, feel so good,” he mumbles, and you seem like you’re enjoying it too, back arched and hand faltering around Logan’s cock. You’re too distracted by Peter.

“Don’t stop,” you say quietly, evidently not there yet but Peter’s sure you feel good.

You share an intimate smile with Logan, and he tells Peter, “Doin’ a really good job with my girl. This is the only thing, bub..”

Logan tries to hide his smile as he grabs Peter’s hand to guide his fingers back to your clit from where they’d drifted off to your thigh, where he’d just been holding you. Peter’s cheeks turn red – or maybe they’ve been red the entire time – as he goes back to playing with your clit.

He doesn’t notice it, but a few seconds later he stops touching your clit again, too distracted by how good your pussy feels. Logan shoves his hand between your legs instead, making you moan as soon as he starts rubbing your clit in circles.

Your pussy spasms around Peter’s cock as you orgasm, and he can practically feel the pleasure flowing through you.

“Can I cum inside you?” The question comes too late to wait for an answer so Peter pulls out, cumming all over your belly in sticky ribbons as he jerks off desperately.

You bite your lip when he’s done, humming as you take some of Peter’s cum off your belly, pushing your finger between your lips. “Tastes so good,” you tell Peter, “Taste it.” 

You swipe some more on your finger, bringing your hand up to Peter’s face as you put your finger in his mouth. He wraps his lips around it hesitantly, smiling shyly when he tastes his own saltiness. Logan’s watching him too, cock still hard.

You gently nudge Peter’s head down towards your belly, and he smiles at you sweetly as his lips glide over your skin and he begins to lick up his own cum.

“Don’t swallow it all,” you say, your hand in his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. He nods obediently, keeping his mouth closed when he’s licked your skin clean.

“Here,” you open your mouth for him, pulling him up to your face. His eyes go wide when he realises what you want him to do, and he holds your chin as he spits his cum into your mouth. 

He was starting to worry a little because, even though he knows he has no problem getting hard after a first orgasm, it’s been a while since he’s gone three times in a row. But now his dick is so hard again that it almost hurts.

You stick out your tongue, showing Peter and Logan the cum mixed with your spit in your mouth. “Come taste him,” you look up at Logan with the sexiest smile anyone has ever smiled, and Peter feels his cock flex as he somehow gets even harder.

Logan rolls his eyes playfully, bending down to kiss you nevertheless. Some of Peter’s cum runs down your chin, and Logan pulls away from the kiss to lick it up. Peter thinks he really should start training his stamina with how close he is again just from this.

You still don’t swallow when Logan stops kissing you. “Come here,” you tell Peter, and he kneels next to you so you have him and Logan at either side, their dicks hard. You sit up a little, spitting the rest of Peter’s cum into your hand as you reach for Logan’s cock, starting to jerk him off. 

He gives you a fake annoyed look at you using Peter’s cum as lube, but it’s obvious he likes it, and it makes Peter reach out to his own cock to give it a few strokes – he can’t help himself.

“Haven’t made you cum yet,” you peer up at Logan, who puts a reassuring hand on your cheek.

“You know I don’t mind watching you two, bub,” he says, and your wide smile hints that Logan has told you something slightly different in private. He doesn’t just mind it, he loves it. Peter gets why Logan might find that hard to admit in front of someone else, something about conventions and possessiveness, but he’s glad that Logan decided to share. He’s glad that you want him.

You wrap your lips around Logan’s cock again. While you suck his cock, you stop Peter’s hand on his cock, jerking him off instead. You pull your lips off Logan, turning to suck Peter’s dick.

You switch between them a few times, the taste of their precum mixing in your mouth and dripping down to their balls when you suck their dicks. Peter particularly enjoys this, awaiting his turn eagerly every time. The head of his cock is swollen with lust against the inside of your cheek, and you turn to him to focus on him fully, letting him get lost in the feeling of fucking your warm, wet mouth.

You put your hand on Logan’s hip, guiding him down the bed. He smirks as he gets between your thighs, watching you suck another man’s cock as he starts to fuck you. He goes slowly first, letting you adjust to his size as you moan around Peter’s dick.

Logan watches Peter’s eyes flutter shut at the vibration of your voice. Logan knows you’re not just moaning because of him inside you though.

“You like that, baby, hm? Like sucking Peter’s cock?” you don’t take your mouth off him, but your sparkling eyes meet Logan’s. It’s a look of understanding. 

Logan is ready to cum, but he tries to draw it out. He can go endless rounds but the first orgasm is always the best. He wants to savour it, save it for a bit longer. He focusses instead on making you cum, fucking against your g-spot, almost making you see stars.

You moan around Peter’s cock when you cum again, and Logan almost submits, but he’s able to fuck you through your orgasm without cumming. Peter spills into your mouth as your cheeks hollow around him, sucking him deeper down your throat.

“Such a good girl,” Logan praises you until your pussy stops pulsing with an orgasm, and you give him a fucked out smile as Peter pulls his cock out of your mouth.

“My girl,” Logan adds, kissing you, and you sigh against his lips in pleasure.

You sit up to grab the water bottle from the side of Peter’s bed and take a sip. You pass it to Peter and Logan afterwards, and you don’t move back between them once you’ve put the bottle away, so they’re facing each other.

You sit on your knees, looking between them as they’re impatiently waiting for you to come back, both their cocks standing hard and proud against their abs.

You bite your lip, “Are you into men, Pete?”

Peter’s heart misses a beat and then happily continues drumming against his chest as he nods eagerly, although he’s not sure why it matters right now.

You share a brief silent exchange with Logan before your next words. “So is Logan,” you nod towards your boyfriend. You wait for them to catch on to what you’re saying, but Peter is too shy to and Logan is still contemplating. This wasn’t a part of the plan, but he can’t say he’s against it. He just didn’t know you wanted to see him with another man the way he wants to see you with one.

“Um, what now?” Peter asks with a nervous smile, ready to please.

You fight the urge to simply answer now you kiss, “You think you two are the only ones that get a show?”

Peter’s eyes widen slightly at your suggestion before they brighten. A shy yet excited smile takes over his features.

“You sure, baby?” Logan asks you. You bite your lip, nodding slowly. Logan smirks, because he knows that exact look and you haven’t been quite this horny all night yet.

“Only if you want to as well,” you tell him, and he doesn’t need to answer.

“This okay for you, bub?” Logan lowers his voice as he speaks to Peter. 

He replies through an eager nod, “yeah.” The word comes out as a whisper.

Logan smirks as he leans in, gently placing his big hand around Peter’s throat. He’s not squeezing, just holding him in place. You didn’t mind Peter being all squirmy when you kissed him, but Logan wants to keep him still.

You watch their cocks rub against each other’s abs as they get closer, strings of spit connecting their lips as they make out, tongues tangling in desperation.

It’s sloppy, the way they kiss, and you could watch them forever.

Logan pulls his lips from Peter’s with a wet sound, firmly patting his cheek, “Now get on your knees, bub.”

The command makes even your knees buckle, and you watch Peter happily drop to the carpet, kneeling between Logan’s spread legs as he moves to the edge of the bed. He beckons you over to his side, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a messy kiss to your mouth.

You know he’s close now, having denied himself an orgasm this long.

Peter wraps a greedy hand around the base of Logan’s cock, leaning in to press a few kisses to his dick. You and Logan watch him, you pulled closely against his side.

“You want me to show you what to do?” you ask Peter after a while of him not doing anything but kissing and licking. Peter nods quickly, “yes please,” and you kiss him after you sit down next to him, tasting your boyfriend’s precum and some of your own arousal on him.

“Think he’s almost there,” you tell Peter as you look up at Logan through your lashes, and he smirks.

“That’s not a problem,” Peter says quickly.

“Here, you can use your tongue,” you tell him, wrapping your hand around Logan’s cock as you take him into your mouth, tongue wet against the underside of him, “try it.”

You keep holding Logan’s cock as you pull off him, angling it towards Peter’s face. His face is flushed as he takes Logan’s dick in his mouth for the first time, sucking on the tip.

“That’s it, doing so good,” you brush your thumb over Peter’s cheek where it bulges when he takes Logan deeper. Your and Logan’s eyes on him make him nervous, and he pulls off to kiss you instead.

You make out with him for a few moments, letting him kiss you greedily and wetly, before you guide your mouths back to Logan’s cock. You and Peter part only minimally as you kiss either side of Logan’s dick, spit running down from your mouths to his balls as you share him.

“Feels so good,” Logan mumbles, all blissed out, watching his perfect, pretty girlfriend share his cock with another guy.

You see how close he is, slowly pulling your mouth off him and leaning your cheek against his knee as you watch Peter take your boyfriend’s cock into his mouth all by himself.

“Attaboy,” Logan says, placing a hand on the back of Peter’s head when he goes deeper, spit falling from his lips.

“Juuust like that,” you add, your praise spurring Peter on. Logan’s other hand goes to your cheek, absent-mindedly brushing over it with his finger as he holds your face.

Peter gets more confident when Logan’s breath stutters. He moans on Logan’s cock as he takes him as deep as he can, the wet sound from his mouth obscene. 

Logan’s hips jerk as his cock twitches in Peter’s mouth, and he cums down his throat in warm, sticky ropes of his load.

“Good boy,” Logan softly ruffles Peter’s hair when he’s done, and you lean in to kiss Peter, some of your boyfriend’s cum still fresh on his lip.

“Doesn’t my boyfriend taste good?” you ask against his lips, hardly breaking the kiss. You can hear the slick of spit and cum on Logan’s cock already as he jerks off again, to the sight of you two making out with his cum between you.

“He does,” Peter mumbles against the skin of your jaw, kissing down your neck.

“He tastes better than me?” you tease.

“No– no, you taste better than anything in the world.” And Peter means it.

-

You’re not done until hours later; you fuck until it’s the middle of the night. Earlier, Peter was ready to forgo his birthday movie night just so you can go to sleep on time, but he got something much better, even if it means you stayed up late for him. He can’t say he feels too bad.

Peter is tucked in, you and Logan at either side as you send each other loving glances over Peter’s head. You’re stroking Peter’s hair, basically cuddling him with how close you are.

“Hope you liked your present,” you tell him, pressing one last kiss against his lips as you smile at his sleepy expression.

“Best birthday ever,” Peter mumbles, before he drifts off into a peaceful sleep.

-

P.S. reblog + let me know your thoughts and Logan and Peter will appear in your bed tonight 🩷🫣

[raina-at]

Pride

Omg, you guys, it's the last one! Where did the month go!

A huge, huge thank you to @calaisreno for keeping is going the entire month, and a huge thank you to all of you for reading and writing and gushing and commenting and crying and making this more fun than it had any right to be. I'll miss this!

I did a Pride ficlet last year as a bonus ficlet because I missed two days. I had a lot of ideas for this year's, and maybe I'll post some of them as bonus ficlets through June, but for now, I say goodbye to May with John and Rosie.

--------

"Dad."

"Hmm?"

"Dad!"

John puts down the newspaper. Apparently this is a serious discussion. "Yes, love?"

Rosie throws herself into Sherlock's chair and contorts herself into a pretzel-like shape that can't be comfortable. "I'm...um..." It's apparent she doesn't quite know how to phrase her issue, because she's unnaturally hesitant. Sherlock's influence has made her shockingly blunt, while John's influence has made her shockingly foul-mouthed. Arguing with her is a joy. But now, very untypically, she looks confused and a bit lost.

"Ro, whatever it is, you can tell me," John says, leaning forward, a bit worried now.

"It's..." She sighs, looks down at her hands. "It's a bit personal?"

"Oh my god you're pregnant!" John blurts out, his momentary fear overriding his usually good brain-mouth-filter.

"Dad, what the actual fuck! I'm not fucking pregnant!" Rosie rolls her eyes so hard John wonders if she sprained something. "You know I'm on birth control. You went with me to get my first prescription, for fuck's sake."

"Accidents happen, my dear," John says, gesturing at his lovely daughter, who, light of his life, and joy of his world as she may be, was also very much an unplanned pregnancy.

"Fair enough," Rosie admits, deflating a bit. "Still."

"It wasn't a completely unreasonable assumption. You have a boyfriend, you're twenty, I'm assuming you're having sex."

"Please, dad!" Rosie exclaims, the tips of her ears turning red. "I really don't want to talk about my sex life."

"You think I do?"

Rosie makes a very Sherlock-like  'never mind all that nonsense now' gesture. "Anyway," she says, giving John a glare that tells him to shut up until she's finished. "It's actually kind of about Mark."

John nods, to let her know he's listening, but carefully and deliberately keeps his mouth shut, even as he's thinking, If he hurt you, I'll kill him so fucking dead so quickly he'll never know what hit him.

"It's... you know... he's... well, he's a boy," Rosie finally gets out.

John blinks a few times. Waits a bit. When it's clear Rosie won't be any more forthcoming about the issue, he dares to ask, "And?"

She looks down at her hands, studying them with unwarranted fascination. "I'm..." She sighs. "When did you know you were bisexual?"

John exhales audibly. Now he knows what this is about. In a family of mostly queer people, Rosie seems to have assumed she'd be some kind of queer as well. And if anyone knows how complicated identity can be, especially if it's weighed down by expectation, it's John. "Um. Quite honestly, I'm not sure I am."

Rosie looks up, surprised. "I mean. Mum. And Paps. Um. You know..." she makes a 'please fill in the gaps yourself' gesture.

"Look," John says, leaning forward and taking his daughter's hands. "I personally think labels are vastly overrated. If a word, or a label, or a phrase, helps you to better understand yourself, that's great. Use that label as long as it serves you, and if it doesn't anymore, use another one. As for me, I was raised in an environment where being different was bad. What kind of different you were exactly was completely beside the point. And I saw first-hand how the world treated your aunt, so I thought, best not think about it. I wasn't that attracted to men, it wasn't difficult to ignore. Until I met Paps, and you know how difficult he is to ignore."

Rosie grins. "Oh, yeah. So Paps made you bi?"

"No, you know it doesn't work like that. He made me... " John answers, smiling fondly at the memory. "Well, quite simply, he made me fall in love. He was—still is, of course—the most intriguing, gorgeous, infuriating, exasperating, fascinating person I've ever met, and I fell in love with him so hard, and so fast. But I wasn't ready, and he wasn't ready, and it took us years to get our acts together. And part of that was that we both couldn't accept a fundamental truth: The heart wants what the heart wants. Fighting against it only brings misery and destruction." He squeezes Rosie's hands. "So. Do you love Mark?"

She nods, her eyes shining with the truth of it.

"Is he good to you? Good for you?"

She nods again.

"Then who the fuck cares about anything else?"

Rosie's silent for a bit, apparently mulling over his words, still holding on to his hands. "So," she finally says, looking up from her joint hands with a smile. "You'll love me even if I'm straight?"

"Well, love, I suppose I can overlook this glaring character flaw. Also, you might meet a stunning lesbian when you're forty and she'll rock your entire world and turn everything you thought you knew about yourself upside down. And I want you to remember," he says, leaning in a bit more, looking deeply into her eyes, "I'm fine with everything, as long as you give me some grandkids first."

Rosie laughs and pushes him away. "Fuck off."

John gets up and makes his way to the kitchen. "So, sexual identity crisis over? You want to have some tea now?"

"Of course I want tea. But what you're saying, if I understand you correctly, is not to assume I'm straight just because I fell in love with a man?"

"I'm saying," John says, flicking the kettle on, "is that it doesn't matter, love. Gay, straight, pan, bi, ace, all these labels are useful if they help you understand yourself. But if you feel boxed in by a label, don't use it. Use another one. Use none at all. Let nothing ever keep you from knowing and understanding your own heart. That's the only thing that matters. I might be bi, who knows. The important thing is that I love Sherlock with all my heart, and that I made a commitment to him. Everything else is just noise."

Rosie is quiet for a bit, looking thoughtfully at the fire crackling cherrily in the hearth of 221B. "You're getting soft in your old age, Dad," she finally says, with a grateful smile.

John hands her a mug, drops a kiss on her head. "Love you too, dear," he says, smiling into her hair.

----

Don't forget that I'm collecting these ficlets here on AO3, and don't forget to check out the wonderful collection of May prompt ficlets as well. I know I'm already looking forward to reading all of them again.

Tags under the cut as usual.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown

[emptywwwriting]

Morning Patrol

Paring: Jackson!Joel Miller x Fem! reader

Summary: It's your first patrol shift since you joined Jackson. When your friend, Jesse, calls out sick you have to go on the patrol alone with Joel Miller.

Warnings: Horrible Writing, HUGE age gap (33 years LOL), reader smokes cigs,  reader is also lowkey a horse girl (shut up), smut will be added, edited this @ 3am sry for mistakes lol, no use of y/n

A03 Link: Morning Patrol

Word Count: 3.8k omg...

First writing ever. I'm sorry if it sucks LOL. I wrote this because I’ve been replaying TLOU2 and it re-awoken my love for these characters.

Idk if I will make this a story or not, it depends on the feedback I get. Correct my grammar/spelling if you see anything wrong, feedback is much appreciated. Also, this is a no-Ellie AU not for any reason, in particular, I just didn’t know how to combine her storyline into this. Please read the warnings!!

It's freezing this time of year, cold frosted winds that are carried by the slopes of the mountains swirl the small town of Jackson, freezing everything over. Even the small wooden stove that usually warms your bones isn't cutting it. Yet you have to stop your eyes from fluttering close while you sit next to the open flame. With only your undergarments to cover you, you're balled up as small as possible sitting on the floor next to the heat. Your alarm had gone off 15 minutes ago, but you’d been procrastinating since. It’s your first patrol shift ever since Jackson took you in nearly 4 months ago. This idea was suggested, rather drunkenly, by Tommy at a bonfire just last week.

…

“It’s about time you start pulling your weight here,” Tommy mumbled with a beer resting on his lips, tilting his head towards you.

Your head snapped up to meet his gaze angrily.

Jesse had arranged a get-together by a bonfire following a town event, inviting Tommy, Joel, Dina, and a few other lookout guards. The hangout was calm, warm, and cozy, with everyone sitting around enjoying their drinks, sharing funny stories, and discussing unusual experiences. As a fairly new member of the town, you were unfamiliar with most of the people there. Jesse, who had played a key role in bringing you into Jackson, made sure to introduce you to Dina, with whom you had formed a close bond. She introduced you to the wonderful team of people who manage all of the horses that Jackson uses. Having grown up around animals, and having extensive knowledge of them, you felt right at home. 

However, not everyone was as friendly. Tommy, in particular, seemed to have a strong dislike for you. Ever since the night shift had found you, he had been suspicious of your presence in the town. Tommy constantly questioned you about your past, making you feel like a criminal rather than a newcomer just trying to fit in. While you understood the need for caution in a town as advanced as Jackson, Tommy's suspicions seemed to linger longer than necessary, this pissed you off. Despite your efforts to become a part of the community and form relationships with Jackson’s people, his distrust towards you made it difficult. You couldn't help but feel like an outsider, even when you are trying to enjoy a casual gathering. 

Jesse let out a cough next to you in an attempt to break the tension. Tommy’s brother, sitting next to him, didn't look away from his bottle, staring awkwardly into the brown glass. Jesse adjusted himself upright in his chair and began.

“I mean you can always come with us on a morning patrol shift… if you feel like it of course,” he added quickly, before staring into his own beer bottle.

You hummed in response. 

Still mad at Tommy, you shoot him another hidden glare before finishing your drink quickly.

“I think it would be a good start for you, hell of an early shift but usually a quiet one.” He looks over at you. “Just me and Joel now, another person couldn't hurt.” Jesse finishes.

Tommy's brother, Joel, grunts from across the fire agreeing.

You stare into the open flame thinking about his words.

“You up for it?” Jesse prods.

“Yeah, I'll do it.” You reply.

Tommy lets out a huff but you choose to ignore it. 

Still basking in the awkwardness from Tommy's comment, Dina and Jesse yawn and start collecting their stuff murmuring their goodbyes to the rest of the group surrounding the fire. Tommy and Joel stomp out the flames before falling into quiet conversation, as you follow Dina and Jesse towards the housing strip.

…

You finally force yourself to get up, the cold air wraps around your body as the stove's heat leaves your skin, you quickly get dressed. Sliding your thickest sweatshirt over your head and thick pants onto your legs. Stepping into your boots, you grab a beanie, gloves, and your backpack, making sure that your revolver is with you. After extinguishing the stove's flame, you exit your house and start down the quiet road.

You thought that things were quiet at night, they are even more quiet at four in the morning. Not a soul is awake at this hour, you've never seen the streets of Jackson so still. None of the town's Edison bulbs were on, only the occasional lamp that came from a house's window illuminated your path. Your mind wanders to the patrol, and you recall how just yesterday Jesse called out sick. A horrible stomach flu had torn its way through Jackson, particularly the school kids and teachers. Jesse got it after participating in a snowball fight with the school children, and Dina was now stuck taking care of him.  You had been sick with it nearly a week ago, the aftereffects still haunting your body. Your stomach gurgled with hunger, feeling as if it had sunk in. Chills racked your body at night, but you had no fever and could keep food down, sometimes. You didn't want to leave Joel to do the patrol alone, even though you know he could.

You have never talked with Joel before, just knew of him. His gruffness made itself apparent when he entered a room. He is a very respected man in the small town and it makes you feel like you know him to an extent. You have to admit that his large size and powerful aura make you slightly scared of him, yet it intrigues you even more. You often catch yourself staring at his aged and calloused hands gripping a beer bottle, or while cleaning his gun, and would have to force yourself to look away; But for such a strong and large man he was so quiet. It made you nervous to go on patrol with him. It's not that you dread the patrol itself, nor does it mean you don't want to be alone with him, but you dread the awkwardness of it.

You are both very quiet people, it's bound to get awkward. With someone chatty like Dina, you could rely on her for conversation for hours, and there would never be a dull moment. But with Joel? Who knows.

Finally, you arrive at the greenhouses which are next to the exit of Jackson. In the moonlit shadows, you see Joel, hand near his mouth, a lit cigarette between his fingers. The tip of the cigarette glowing red illuminating his face in an auburn glow. The sight makes your stomach flip, or maybe it's the virus. He catches your eye as you approach, now a few feet from him.

“Mornin.” He mumbles, voice groggy with sleep.

“Morning” You offer back sounding weak.

His peppered beard nearly sparkles in the dim light, his nose sculpting his face beautifully. Towering over you even at a distance.

Fuck he’s hot.

“We should head out a little early today so I have time to show you all our check-in spots,” He says after another puff.

“Sounds good to me!” You say eagerly, slightly embarrassed at your peppiness. 

He tosses the cigarette into the snow, before stepping on it with his boot, turning away from you and towards the gate. You're suddenly very thankful for Jesse's illness, given now you get to be alone with possibly the hottest man you have ever seen. 

Fumbling for the key he unlocks the gate, before having to open a set of precautionary doors, that you remember entering just a few months ago after night patrol found you nearly dead.

“Watch your step.” Joel throws back at you as you exit the final gate and start up a path of icy rocks.

“Got it.” You retort.

Looking up you can see the moonlit glow of the frozen rocks, a long path up into the cover of the forest. It's eerie, too quiet, and too steep. You would not know what to do without Joel here. Even though his presence puts your mind at ease, it's still terrifying while dark. You had almost forgotten what it's like to not be in Jackson. A whole year of struggling to survive on your own forgotten in a handful of months.

I’m spoiled. You think.

You know Jackson has spoiled you but it's not like you don't deserve it.

 The thoughts of your life before, outside the walls of Jackson, creep into your mind and you become nauseous.

“How long will we be out here?” You ask, trying to get your mind back to Joel.

“Well-” He sighs. “Depends on how many stragglers we have to get through. If the weather holds up and there's nothing out of the blue, the whole watch will be about 8 hours.” 

“Eight hours?” You repeat shocked.

“Yep, a whopping eight hours.” He says sarcastically. “Forget how you outbreak, kids never worked a normal job.” He chuckles to himself.

“I was born as soon as the outbreak started, I think that's hard enough.” You say smiling. He huffs.

“I’d take eight-hour shifts over an infection any day.” You smile.

“Yeah me too.” He replies.

It's quiet again and the awkward tension seeps back in making you more uneasy. The sound of his boots crunching the snow under him fills the air, and you're now closer to the woods. You follow Joel a few feet back, studying his frame while he can't see you. 

Why can’t you think of anything to say and why is he so quiet? You pray for Joel to say something, anything, and when he doesn't, you force yourself to talk.

“Do you like your shifts with Jesse?” 

“Jesse's good, a little woman crazy but he's fine. At least he's a good shot.” He lets out a huff.

“Yep, that sounds like Jesse.” you smile to yourself.

The conversation goes silent again and you begin to wonder if it's just this awkward in your head. The path evens out as you enter the brush, and Joel turns his flashlight on, illuminating the now even darker path. As the forest thickens the moon becomes less and less of a help, your eyes strain, trying to make out the terrain. 

Crunch Crunch Crunch

Focusing on the sounds of snow and wind you space out, now trying to ignore the awkwardness between you.

“How old did you say you were?” 

you didn't 

Joel asks awkwardly.

“Twenty-five.” You reply, 

“Jesus.” He says under his breath.

“How old did you say you were?” You ask playfully.

He laughs, seemingly embarrassed.

“Too old.” He says shortly.

You laugh and begin walking closer behind him. When finally in the complete cover of the woods Joel climbs up onto a large rock, one nearly bigger than you. After getting himself up right, he reaches a hand down to you. He looks majestic like this, so tall above you looking down with a rough and large hand extended. Even his thick wool coat can't fully conceal how large his biceps and chest are. You want to take a picture of him. 

Him saying your name, snaps you back into reality, grabbing his hand quickly, he hoists you up onto the rock. His powerful tug launches you faster than you expected. Your foot lands on a chunk of ice and you slip slightly before he holds you up with the hand he was holding. Dangling from his strong  grip you quickly try to find some kind of footing grunting in pain.

His other hand comes down to the collar of your clothing grabbing it and pulling you up. You reach for his arms for stability and take a breath before opening your eyes to look up at him. You're a mess, knees weak, one arm on his bicep the other on his flexed forearm staring up at him like a hurt puppy. You snap your head back down and release him, brushing yourself off. He slowly lets go of your jacket collar and hand before huffing out a chuckle

“Told you to be careful.” He beams down at you.

Your face is so red it's warming you in contrast to the freezing night air.

“Not my fault you flung me over the rock.” You laugh lightly looking down to hide your face. Not only were you red but you are trying to hide the grimaces you are making from the shooting pain in your ankle.

“Whatever you say darlin'.” He laughs.

And, oh that made your stomach do actual flips. You freeze as he starts down the path again, you're trying to comprehend the nickname, and why it sounded so good coming from his lips.

Darlin’....

 Shaking your head you follow after him promptly. The wind picks up and your hair starts whipping onto your already red cheeks. It is cold, and the wind makes you feel even more miserable. Joel's hair, which had only grown since you joined Jackson, moved in the crisp breeze, he seemed to notice the wind picking up, and he started walking faster.

“I think we are getting caught in a storm.” He says defeatedly, pushing forward into the dark night. 

Your heart drops as you push to keep up with the older man who is somehow faster than you, your ankle screaming at you to stop.

“Let's turn back.” You suggest sighing, you pause for a moment to take the weight off of your foot. 

This earns a quick,

“No, too far back, we are closer to the first check-in.” His voice becomes more strained as the terrain gets more steep and the wind picks up. You quickly start following after him again, in a limp.

“How much further?” 

“Half a mile.” Joel quips.

“Focus on the trail. The wind is getting stronger, we have supplies at the check-in and can camp out there until day shift comes.” 

His strong legs take large strides up the mountain. You continue to follow, the wind nearly knocking you over at some points. The gusts of icy air start picking up fallen snow, blurring everything in a cloud of white dust. Your ankle only seems to be feeling worse as each twist and turn gets harder and harder to trek. In a panic, you grab Joel's backpack so as not to lose him. He yells something at you about the path you think, but you can't hear, the wind is screaming in your ears too loudly. Your ankle feels warm. Twigs and branches snap, each making you jump, you slip only slightly, catching yourself before continuing hot on Joel's trail. Your knuckles are white from the grip you have on his bag. Frozen in place. 

Finally, you see the outline of a shed, Snow, and ice slinging into the side of it from the wind. You see the back of Joel's head raise as he spots the structure before his pace picks up even more and you're practically being dragged. Noticing this he blindly reaches back, taking hold of your forearm and dragging you to the front of him, his warm chest pressed against your back. The wind slams into him, blocking it from you. He pushes you slowly, now noticing your limp. Step by step you make your way to the wooden shed. You hear him breathing ruggedly in your ear, your gasp and breaths fill the air along with his. Finally at the door moving you to the side yet not taking his hands off you he opens the door and shoves you inside. The sound of whirling wind, snow, and branches snapping disappears outside of the dark room, muffling the chaos nearly completely. 

Joel puts a large wood plank in the shed's lock and takes a deep breath before turning to you. He looks you up and down.

“You okay? You slipped a few times pretty good back there.” He sighs trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah, I think I'm good.” You breathe deeply and try to think. “I twisted my ankle a little though.” You sigh.

Throwing down your heavy bag you plop down on the dirt floor next to it. You definitely did something more than twist it because the pain is radiating up into your knee, making it hard to hide your discomfort. 

Inside the shed is small, there's enough room for you, Joel, and a small stove with a plastic crate filled with what looked like ammo and food and first aid, underneath it. Joel looks down at you and you meet his gaze. The feeling of his chest against your back lingers on your skin and in your thoughts. You push your thighs together and look away, hoping he can't read your mind. He kneels in front of you grabbing your ankle suddenly.

“Shit!” You hiss trying to pull your leg back up to your body.

He takes hold of your leg again, this time underneath your knee. You move around trying to find a comfortable position.

“Stop squirming, I need to look at your ankle.”

As he wishes you hold as still as possible as he pulls your pant leg up and begins to untie your boot. Gently he slides off the shoe and pulls your sock off halfway. Unveiling your ankle beat red and swollen. Joel cringes at the sight of it and gently puts your leg back on the ground. Reaching behind himself he grabs the plastic tote and opens it looking for what you assume to be painkillers.

“It's really not that bad, I'll be okay, just need to lay off it for a bit.” You sound defeated.

“We have pain killers in here, you can-” 

You cut him off “I'm okay, and I'm not wasting Jacksons supplies.”

He looks at you, at your ankle, and then slowly up your body. 

“You're not going to be able to walk back down with that.” He says.

You go to disagree with him but you stop yourself because you know he's right, there's no way in hell.

“Im sorry, I-” 

“Not your fault.” He cuts you off and places the small crate at your legs for you to prop your foot on.

“I know I just- I feel like the town already doesn't like me, hell I know Tommy doesn't. And I just don't want to be a problem.”

“Tommy’s a paranoid old man,” He begins. “I love my brother but his suspicions get the best of him sometimes, he loves Jackson, and wants to keep it safe, don't take it personal kid.” His eyes show you his sincerity, and you look down, still ashamed.

He looks up at you saying nothing sympathy written across his face. He groans as he gets up from his knees now looking down at you, examining.

“I hope day shift brings up a horse. We gon’ have to carry you if not.” 

You cringe at the thought of the issues you're causing but know he's right.

“As for this storm,” He walks around the room and cracks the door open slightly before having to slam his body on it to get the wind to stop pouring through. 

“Yeah-” He breathes heavily, locking the door back. “That's gonna hold up for a while.” He puts his fingers on the bridge of his knows like he's trying to figure out what to do.

Joel then spends the next twenty minutes doing something you may call nesting. As you watch, you can sense the anxiety pouring off him. He paces back and forth, seemingly unable to calm down. While he doesn't say anything, the worried look on his face speaks for him. It's as if he's trying to distract himself from the nervousness that looks to be consuming him. He checks and double-checks the locked door, and starts a fire in the small stove, he meticulously tends to it. The pacing continues, with Joel occasionally glancing at the door, as if expecting the weather to magically change.

At this point you're lying on the ground head on a Joel’s pack, just staring into the fire.

“Jesus sit down Joel.” You finally tell him, getting tired just from watching him.

He pauses his pacing and looks at you as if he didn’t know he was even doing it. Mumbling an apology, he walks over to you and sits against the wall a foot or two from your head. You two sit in silence for a while, listening to the fire crackle what sticks were left in there, while the wind whistles through the small shed.

“You got any more of those cigarettes you had earlier?” You ask shyly, like you are doing something bad. You meet his gaze craning your neck up while he looks down confused and surprised.

“Didn't know you smoke” He huffs, reaching into the backpack under your head, he grabs a small white beat-up box and pulls from it, a neatly home-rolled cigarette.

You hum, admiring his strong hands digging through the box.

“Don't tell on me.” You smile looking at him sheepishly. He rolls his eyes before sticking the cigarette in his mouth and bringing a match to the end of it, lighting it and inhaling deeply. Taking it from his mouth he brings the cigarette to your lips until you open them, sticking it between them. Your stomach does cartwheels as he focuses on your lips wrapped around the smoke. Inhaling deeply you lock eyes, staring back into his. He takes the cigarette in front you and lets it rest in his hand as you both exhale.

“How long until they come for us?” You sigh after gently taking the cigarette from Joel’s hand and sticking it in your mouth again.

“Day shift starts at 1:30, and it’s still dark out,” He takes the smoke from you and takes a drag before exhaling.

“So we still have a while sweetie.”

You hide the smile that forces its way to your face by adjusting your body so that your head is now closer to his thigh.

You both take turns puffing on the cigarette until it gets too short to hold, Joel tosses it into the stove, and wipes his hands on his pants. You however are plotting on how to get closer to him. Too shy to say anything, but too desperate to not be closer you casually scoot up more and place your head on his thigh before turning away from him, pretending to get comfy. He gets stiff at this and you get nervous.

shit was that too much?

Frozen in fear you listen and wait. Slowly he relaxes and you hear his head thump against the wall. You let a breath out you didn’t know you were holding, and begin to relax. It was nearly 15 minutes later when you started to hear a small grumble coming from the man under you, he was snoring. You smiled to yourself, proud that you had managed to lay on him and not weird him out, maybe he likes it as much as you do. When he wakes up you'll think about testing your luck again, for now though, you need to rest. Closing your eyes you drift to sleep on his thigh, thinking about his hands all over you.

Edit: Chapter 2 will be coming out soon, be on the look out!

[juuuulez]

Negan x Virgin wife reader smut??? Questionable age gap if ur comfortable no pressure though

info: absolutely FILTHY, age gap (reader is 18 when they have sex, negan is like mid 40s), alcohol consumption, negan calls himself daddy, oral (female receiving), loss of virginity, probably more but i can’t even think rn.

summary: Negan’s always taken care of you, only now, you want him in a different way.

omg this took soooo long to write and is also absolutely huge 😭😭 it’s also just pure filth but totally is everything i’ve ever wanted

You were 16 when you arrived at the Sanctuary.

Though, you never really did anything. Negan didn’t even know if you knew how to fire a gun, but he didn’t mind. Your little fingers probably were too soft, they’d shake upon just nearing one, afraid of blemishing your perfect nails.

Your father was a loyal soldier of his, always carried out orders to a T. Therefore, Negan believed that your debt was paid, and didn’t feel the need to make you pull your weight, like most others.

After meetings, when everybody was dismissed, those big wooden doors would open to you standing there, waiting for your father with a sweet smile on your face. He’d place his hand on your back, kiss you on the head, walk you out.

It made Negan think that maybe, just maybe, there was good left in the world. That good was you.

Sometimes a mission would go haywire. Radio connections lost, a truck missing, hijacked. When this happened, you’d always wind up at the door to Negan’s office, timid little knocks garnering his attention. You’d ask, visibly upset, if your father would be okay, if he had any news on when he’d be back.

And Negan would always assure you it was fine, that you’d best get to bed. Morning would come, your father would return, and your world would be complete again. Each time, you’d sniffle, flashing him that sweet little smile before bidding him goodnight.

You were 17 when your father died.

It was a seemingly random attack on an outpost, though Negan knew otherwise. 20-odd men were killed, including your father. When he’d shared the news, you weeped and cried for what felt like hours.

Despite the million tasks to be completed, justice to be avenged, Negan had set that aside to comfort you. Sit down with you, ease your worries, promise that he’d make things right. That whoever did this would pay, he would get your revenge. Even though the tears didn’t stop, and you practically didn’t move from your bed for days afterwards, you’d still managed the effort to give Negan a smile.

You were trying, so, so hard.

But things changed after that.

Well, you changed.

A year went by, and you got harder. Learnt to live on without the guidance of your father, though the struggle was still evident. You were lost, like a little lamb.

Some of the older girls took you under their wing, teaching you the necessities of life in this world. How to make a knife, how to escape rope binding, how to please a man. All the things your father had sheltered you from, made sure you wouldn’t need to worry about.

Though you appreciated their help, it wasn’t the same. Women were too… understanding. They were soft, gentle with you, but it came from a place where they saw a version of themselves in you. No, you wanted something masculine. That protective hand on your back, the feeling of a beard scratching your cheek when he left you sweet little kisses.

You were 18 when you found this again.

Albeit, in a different way.

The war was progressing, however slowly, and tensions were high. Infighting was getting more and more common, Rick was getting on Negan’s last nerve, and his wives were starting to tick him off.

It was another late night, chain-smoking and trying to brainstorm any sort of play against the Alexandria group. Just something to gain some leverage, as he could feel the power slipping from his fingers, whilst they were only getting more and more rebellious.

Just last week, they’d attacked the Sanctuary, where Negan realised that he needed to put an end to this.

There’s that slight knocking at his door, the quiet tap tap tap. He doesn’t need to see to know who it is, nor does he need to answer for you to enter.

You push past the doors, feet clothed in white cotton socks. The type with pink bows on them, on either side. It makes your footsteps silent, padding across the wooden floorboards until you’re standing in front of Negan’s desk.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

It’s become a rather common phrase, though Negan had thought that you were getting better. The attack must have set you off again, put you on edge, anxious. It makes sense, as you weren’t exactly accustomed to the gunfire and shouting.

“You try counting, doll?” Negan asks, watching you over the rim of his glass, letting the smooth whiskey slide down his throat. His eyes wandered downwards, taking in your silk nightdress, falling just to the top of your thighs.

Tantalisingly small, you needed a new one.

This past year, after your 18th birthday, you’d become dangerous. Confident. Each day your shorts seemed to get shorter, the straps on your tanks skinnier. You pushed the limit, that sickly sweet smile transforming into something alluring and tempting whenever you gazed at the younger soldiers.

It was like a ticking time bomb, and without your daddy to guide you, Negan knew you were moments from acting out.

“Mhm. Doesn’t work,” You shrug, eyes downcast upon the wooden desk, like you’re searching the dark grain for some sort of answer to all your problems, “Why count when I can come see you?”

This causes Negan to chuckle, that deep sound that rumbles from his chest, causing you to look back up at him. He sets the glass down, a soft clink as it collides with the table. “Because sometimes I’ll be busy. Ya gotta learn to handle yourself.”

Wrong choice of words.

Negan knew that, because there was this little flicker in your eyes, like a light that had switched on.

Of course you could handle yourself, that’s what you’ve been doing this past year.

You knew what you wanted, and were willing to hunt it down, like prey. All those hushed conversations with the older women, reading all those magazines, you knew what you were doing. Or, you thought you knew what you were doing.

Negan could see this, which is why indulging in these thoughts with you was a dangerous game. He was only a man, after all, and you just looked so good in that little silk dress, the spaghetti straps almost hanging off your soft shoulders. It was like a temptation from the devil himself, the ultimate forbidden fruit.

“C’mere, princess.” He calls out, internally cursing himself for being so fucking stupid, but nonetheless leaning back slightly in his chair.

He was going to hell.

But luckily, sinning was a two player game.

You accepted the invitation, slinking over to him, knuckles just brushing the wooden desk as you pass. Without instruction, you situate yourself between Negan’s slightly parted legs, your ass making contact as you sat on his thigh, rough denim creating friction against your soft skin.

His hands instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you in closer, where you allowed your head to fall against his chest. It was comforting, and Negan smelt like smoke and leather, something to unfamiliarly masculine but you loved it. You wanted to smell it forever, feel him forever.

“Why haven’t you asked me to be a wife?”

This causes Negan to furrow his brows, tilting his head to look down at you. In turn, you meet his gaze, looking up at him through your lashes. The position makes him feel powerful, like you’re tiny in his hands, something he could direct with ease. He quickly banished the thought away, not wanting to corrupt your innocence.

“Because you’re too young, doll.”

“But I know things,” You assert as soon as Negan has given his excuse, desperate to make him understand, “From.. from asking people, from reading magazines. I know what to do.”

Negan’s eyes flicker across your face, taking in the cute little pout on his lips. Reading? It suddenly dawns on him that you’re more inexperienced than you let on. All those flirty remarks, seductive stares directed at his soldiers, hadn’t proved fruitful.

You were a virgin.

Now, that shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did, but God. Negan’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, keeping you pressed firmly against him, to which you lifted your head from his chest. One hand raised higher, gently brushing the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. The other shifted downwards, snaking his long fingers just under your soft asscheek, peaking from that silky nightgown that bunched above your thighs.

As much as Negan had resented the idea of tarnished your innocence… now it just seemed all the more alluring. Being your first, being the only one you’ll ever taste. Making you his.

“You ever drank whiskey, baby?” He finds himself asking, voice just as smooth and fiery as the alcohol in question.

Your head tilts, eyes owlish and curious as you shake your head no. Negan leans forward in the chair, keeping you close to his chest, and scoops up the previously abandoned glass.

Auburn liquid sloshes slightly with the movement, and Negan takes a moment to adjust you in his lap, manoeuvring your body with ease. He presses his thumb against your plush bottom lip, the slight pressure causing you to open your mouth around him, where he is able to replace the digit with the rim of the glass.

His hand shifts to your jaw, holding you with a firm grip and tilting your head backwards, tipping some of the whiskey into your awaiting mouth. It passes your tongue, gliding down your throat until he pulls the glass back, allowing you just a taste.

Your nose scrunches at the harsh burn, not accustomed to it, before letting your tongue dart out to lick your lips.

“It’s warm.” You mumble, voice still quiet and delicate despite the actions you were partaking in, “Like… in my chest.”

“Yeah? Feelin’ it here?” Negan asks, a smirk beginning to play at his lips in response to your pure innocence. His hand slides up your body, brushing along smooth silk, until it comes to rest just in the channel between your plump breasts. He applies a slight pressure, a firm hand that sits over your heart, where he can feel it increase in tempo.

At this, you smile, pink lips curving upwards while you lean in a little, head tilting up to look at him. Negan feels inclined to mimic the motion, allowing you closer until he can feel your soft breaths against his mouth, lips slightly parted in anticipation.

His eyes flicker down, weighting the severity of these temptations, before meeting your gaze again. “If you wanna do this, baby-girl, then there is no going back,” He advises, voice lowered to match the tension of the situation, “I am going to tear you apart.”

A mixture of anticipation and fear floods your stomach, butterflies tingling and reaching areas that you’d forbidden yourself from touching. Only the slightest motion is required until your lips are touching, pressing against his, causing you to shift closer on your lap.

Negan takes note of your pure eagerness, licking into his mouth with no hesitation, letting your tongues intertwine like you’re trying to taste every inch of his mouth. You’re drunk off the feeling, how he tastes like whiskey and cigarettes, and you can feel his stubble irritating the skin around your mouth but it feels so inexplicably good.

You’re ravenous, fulfilling that deep yearning that’s directed your every movement for the past year. But Negan wants to take it slow, pull you apart, help you understand everything that he’s capable of doing to your body.

So he wraps a hand in your soft hair, balling it around his fist and holding the back of your head in place. A desperate whine leaves you when he pulls his face away, a grin quickly spreading upon seeing your dissatisfied pout.

“Not so fast, baby.” He hums, before diving in once more, directing the pace of the kiss himself.

Whenever you get too eager, trying to take control, Negan will pull away again, letting you gasp and whine and beg him to kiss you again. It’s utterly pathetic, you’ve barely even started and it’s already apparent just how much control Negan has over you, a notion that makes him feel completely elated and also extremely aroused.

It feels like an eternity, with you seated in his lap, leisurely making out and learning exactly what makes you tick. Negan finally lets go of your hair, giving appreciative pets through the silky locks and then down your back, before two large hands are hooking underneath your ass and pulling you upwards.

The sudden movement causes you to gasp, arms quickly gripping onto Negan to steady yourself, but he’s strong enough to manhandle you onto the desk. That white nightgown bunches at your hips, and Negan pushes it upwards to your waist, letting out a low whistle at the sight of your little white lace panties.

“Look at you, princess.” He grumbles, pushing your thighs apart on the desk to get a proper look. There’s a wet stain right over your core, and Negan shamelessly presses his fingers against the thin fabric. The contact makes you squirm, bracing your hands behind you on the wooden desk.

He brings himself closer by pushing the chair forward, whilst simultaneously gripping your thighs and pulling you towards him. Closing the gap, Negan presses his nose against your clothed cunt, letting his tongue dart out to further soil the sticky fabric. The lewd act causes you to gasp, nails scratching against the surface and legs shaking, clamping around his head.

“Tastes so fucking good, baby-girl. This pussy was just made for me.” Negan groans, inhaling your intoxicating scent mixed with the slightly salty taste on his tongue. It took everything in him not to completely brutalise your poor cunt, though he knew it would be sopping by the time he was finished.

Two large, rough hands skate up your thighs, fingers slipping into the dainty handles of your panties. Negan pulls the straps down, letting the fabric fall from your hips and down your legs. Instead of discarding the item onto the floor, or setting it aside, Negan slips them into a nearby drawer. You clock the action, and it makes your face flush bright red.

Negan takes a moment to admire the sight of your bare skin, his hands tracing loving circles into your thighs. “Fuck, can’t believe this is all for me.” He groans, before finally, finally, bringing his mouth close enough to make contact your with your heat.

He licks a long line from your dripping hole, to your clit. Tongue flattened, feeling every ridge of your pussy. The sensation is completely new, leaving you to gasp over him, palms splayed out against the wooden desk. It’s tempting to squeeze his head in your thighs, to completely crumble, but you keep them open and spread.

The effort must be visible, because Negan tilts his head to the side, pressing a tender kiss against your skin. “Bein’ such a good girl, aren’t you? Don’t worry, baby. Let go for me.”

Each word of encouragement is rumbled into the meat of your thighs, and eventually, back into your waiting cunt. It’s overwhelming, in the best way possible, and Negan takes the time to talk you through the pleasure, albeit muffled by how devotedly he’s eating you out.

You squirm against the desk, little pants and surprised cries leaving your mouth, struggling to adjust to the sensation of Negan’s lips suctioning over your clit, creating a steady motion that causes a whole other wave of pleasure to wash over your shoulders.

But then, he’s pressing a single, thick digit against your hole. There’s a slight resistance, but Negan takes his time, circling his finger around the silky cavern until it finally gives, sucking his finger inside. All of this, whilst he continues his assault on your pussy, licking into it shamelessly in a pattern he’s learnt will give you the most pleasure.

“Fuck, it’s.. I-I dunno if I can take it.” You mumble when Negan perseveres, pushing another finger into your warm cunt. It’s a tight fit, but he’s willing to make it work. Determined.

“Oh, baby. You will be taking a lot more than this.”

It fills you with a sense of fear, an anxious feeling growing in the pit of your stomach, like you’ve swallowed a rock. Until Negan pushes his fingers upwards a little, and you practically jump from the desk, a ragged moan leaving your throat. He continues to press against the fleshy spot, meanwhile suctioning his lips around your clit and sucking hard.

You gasp and cry, little tears filling your eyes as you drop backwards. One arm supports you on the desk, the other moving so that you can grip onto Negan’s short, dark hair. Your nails scratch as his scalp, but he doesn’t care, because it’s only a sign of how much pleasure he’s bringing you.

It sounds like you’re trying to say something through the distraught moans, but the words carry no meaning, practically unintelligible. It’s like your bones have turned to jelly, this new feeling arising in your stomach, something you haven’t felt before.

It feels like pressure, an intense pressure. It builds and builds, and you know that it’ll snap soon, but you can’t find your words in order to warn Negan. Yet, he already knows, of course he knows. By the end of this, he’ll understand your body better than you do. Maybe he already does.

Because when it snaps, your orgasm finally reaching its peak, Negan only quickens the pace of his fingers and tongue. His other hand is now on your lower stomach, leaving soft pets against the skin, gently trying to bring you down from everything.

Now, Negan would love nothing more than to keep going, to devour your sopping pussy until you’re crying tears of pain, begging him to relent. One day, he’ll have you like that. Not now, not while you’re still adjusting to everything that he’s possible of giving you.

The hand previously positioned in his hair falls down to his shoulder, where Negan finally brings his face up from your pussy, leaning in closer to you. His beard is shiny with your slick, fingers similarly coated in it, and there are red marks from where his stubble had irritated your sensitive thighs.

You look a mess.

Panting, teary eyed. Face all red and flushed, looking up at him. Your mouth opens to speak, but Negan is quick to cover it with his own, capturing you in a deep kiss.

It’s messy, passionate, though you’re really worn out. Yet, you show him your appreciation, licking feverishly into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. Then you’re leaning forward, pushing yourself back into a sitting position on the desk, arms wrapped around Negan’s shoulders.

When you break apart, he nudges your cheek with his nose, moving to press kisses against your skin. “How ‘bout I get you into bed, huh?”

You push away from him, shaking your head. There’s a look of confusion on your face, a small pour forming against your lips. “No, no, not yet. We can keep going.” You protest, looking up at him with the most precious, hurt little eyes.

Negan moves his hand up, capturing your face in his grasp, holding you still. His thumb rubs at your plump bottom lip, still wet with his spit, all bitten and red.

“You really want this?” He asks, “Because ‘s gonna hurt, baby. It’ll feel good, but it’ll hurt first.”

You only nod, separating yourself from his hold, to lie back against the wooden desk. It’s slightly uncomfortable, and cold against the naked skin of your thighs, but you prop your feet up against the wood in order to present yourself to him.

It’s lewd, a temptation, you’re trying to lure him in. And it works. Of course it does. Negan can’t deny you any longer, not with that sweet smile, beautiful little face. He wants nothing more than to know that you’re his, and only his.

“Beautiful girl.” He rumbles, splaying a hand over your stomach, running it up over the curve of your breasts. The silk nightgown is pushed upwards, until it’s pooled around your neck. Negan leans down, helping you to sit up a little, so that he can remove the nightgown completely.

Now, you lay bare on his desk, causing him to whistle at the sight. There’s already a damp spot near the edge, where your pussy had stained the wood, a mixture of slick and Negan’s spit. There was another pool forming, where your legs now lay spread at the end, awaiting the blessed moment you’d been dreaming about.

Negan is careful about it, sticks his fingers back into your sopping hole, making sure it’s maintained it’s previous elasticity. It practically sucks him in, and to prove your point, you squeeze your muscles around his fingers.

“Okay, baby. Don’t get impatient on me.” He coos, one hand remaining on your thigh, whilst the other works at removing his pants.

They drop to the floor with a heavy noise, to which he doesn’t bother to fully move them, letting the denim slump around his boots. You prop yourself up a little, looking down the length of your body to where Negan finally reveals his cock.

It’s thick, much thicker than his fingers. How is that even supposed to fit in there? It’s wide around the base and tip, long and curved upwards, towards his stomach. Subconsciously, your legs close a little, but Negan keeps his grip firm as he presses your thighs against the desk.

“You still wanna do this, baby?” He asks, despite his greater instinct to just claim what’s in front of him. Admittedly, it’s been a little difficult to hold off this long.

If you were anyone else, the act would be long done by now. But this was different. You were different. He still wanted to take care of you, like you were a helpless little girl, except you weren’t. This was your plan, after all. Like a lioness, you’d hunted him down, and there no way you were going home without your reward.

A smile spreads on your lips, looking up at him through your lashes, “Yes, please.”

It’s said in that same sweet tone, as if you’re not actually begging for his cock, but another bedtime story. Like you aren’t naked on his desk, pussy dripping down onto the wood, completely spread out like a lavish meal.

“Good girl.” He mumbles, pulling your legs so that they dangle over either of his shoulders, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. At this angle, he can already feel your heat, so, so close to him.

One hand grips his cock, the other planted across your stomach, a large hand splayed over your skin for comfort. Negan looks down, guiding himself to finally press against your core. There’s a slight resistance, but in no time, he’s length is being sucked into your gooey walls.

There’s a pensive look on your face, which he notices, causing a smile to grow on his own. Your nose twitches slightly, chewing on your bottom lip, trying to adjust to the new feeling. It doesn’t necessarily feel bad, just strange.

But, Negan is only able to get the first few inches in, until there’s a hitch in the process. He leans down, letting you wrap your arms around him, and captures your mouth in a kiss. You give in instantly, preoccupied completely with licking into his mouth, therefore not fully aware of the firm thrust he gives to break through the barrier.

You hiss into his mouth, accidentally biting down onto his lip. Negan doesn’t seem to mind, as he begins pressing kisses down your jaw and neck, leaving a trail of bloody marks in his wake.

“Shh, you’re okay,” He soothes, keeping his hips still, not yet pressing any further until the pain has subsided, “Ain’t gonna hurt for much longer.”

The promise proves fruitful, as within a few moments, you’re wiggling a little in his grasp, giving the silent permission to continue. You look down the gap between you, watching as Negan’s cock slowly pushes further in, until your hips are finally flush.

“Breathe, babygirl.” He murmurs, still licking and sucking over your skin. The wet trail continues, until Negan pays attention to your plump breasts, his tongue collecting the beads of sweat that’s built from the exertion.

You claw at his neck, one hand making it’s way into his hair, scratching slightly at his scalp. Then he’s moving, gently pulling out, until just the tip remains. You breathe through the uncomfortable feeling as he pushes back in, a mixture of your slick and a little blood dripping down your ass, only to pool on the wooden desk.

It’s intense, having Negan stretch you open on his cock, the kind of sensation you’d never felt before. You keep watching between you, keen interest in your eye, which he finds adorable. Even as he speeds up a little, the twinge of pain subsiding into a constant flow of pleasure, you’re still fighting to keep your eyes on him.

He readjusts, bringing your legs back down, only to firmly pin your thighs to the desk. In this position, you’re completely spread for him, causing a blush of embarrassment to rise on your cheeks.

It doesn’t last long, as Negan has found the perfect angle to thrust up into you, causing you to raggedly moan and your eyes to squeeze shut. He continues to hammer the same spot, and it feels heavenly, like his cock is actually in your stomach.

You scratch at the wooden desk, gripping for dear life as Negan holds you still, both large hands planted across your thighs. He’s gripping and kneading them, and you hope they’ll be bruised the next day.

But finally being sheathed in your wet heat is it’s own struggle for Negan, as he’s trying to hold off cumming for as long as possible. He’d been rock-hard the entire time you were making out, but this? It was a victory better than war.

So he moves one hand off your thigh, bringing it to your swollen and abused clit. You gasp as he makes contact, tracing firm, tight circles over the muscle that make your eyes roll back, pathetic noises leaving your parted lips.

“That’s it, baby. Cum for daddy.” He praises, leaning down to leave dark marks on the junction of your neck. You wrap your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder as Negan continues to fuck into you, hitting that fleshy spot that causes you to cry.

It’s obvious when your orgasm hits you, as your whole body shudders, moans tapered off into high-pitched whines of pleasure. Your gooey walls clench around Negan’s cock, making him groan into your flesh, putting more force behind his thrusts.

Luckily, it’s all he needs to finish, pumping his cum deep into your channel. The overstimulation causes your hips to twitch, legs jolting with the sudden sensation, but Negan tests your limits, shallowly pushing his seed deeper inside you.

Your nails scratch at his neck, eyes pricking with overworked tears, “It’s too much.” You squeak out, voice all raw from all those noises that had been forced from your throat.

“Okay, beautiful,” Negan whispers, pulling himself out of your sensitive cunt, hands gently soothing the bruised skin of your thighs, “But next time, you’ll take it until I say so.”

It’s vaguely threatening, and causes another wave of arousal to ebb through your stomach. However, your mind focuses on one thing, a bashful and pleased smile growing on your tired face.

“Next time?”

It catches Negan off guard slightly, realising what he’d said. That, and you just look so happy, like you’ve finally gotten what you wanted.

“Of course, darlin’. You belong to me.” He assures, savouring the fact that you were so eager to be with him, despite everything.

That night, the nightmares didn’t return. Of course, you didn’t go back to your bed, but instead Negan’s. He took care of you from then on out, it was safe to say you were his new favourite.

[astrologylunadream]

What They Want for Christmas?💌🎀🎄 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

♪All I want for christmas is you~💕

Hey it's Lunadream💓 Christmas is here~ so it's a must to see what that person on your mind has on their list!🗒💫 hope you find your message🍨

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~🤍

Pile 1☃️

Pile 2🌸

Pile 3🐈

Pile 4🦢

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> ☁️🎄🌸

Pile 1☃️

Sign energy: Decay, Venus, Deep, Adventure, Outfit, North node, 2nd house, Virgo, Saturn, Capricorn, 🛑🟨👄👉

🎄Your person's energy: Ah so you're person has very sweet yet defined features, also feminine aura about them💓 They may have Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn, or Aquarius placements in their chart. Your person is so soft and cute but also really attractive physically, their lips draw you in so deep omg they have really nice lips😳💞 There may be a significant age gap for some of my pile 1's but your person can simply seem mature for their age like responsible and well behaved. I'm getting the feeling your person doesn't let themselves have fun that often, they try to limit crazy or wild experiences to prevent the risk of huge problems in their life. Ohh but your person has such an effortless sensual beauty about them, I feel like their jaw/neck is one of their key features. They are so pretty to you I'm hearing🥺💗 They dress really nice like sensibly and classy, omg they just look so well put together in everything they wear!😫 This may be someone you are unable to love in some way, like something is stopping you from feeling their love. Yellow may look good on your person, the color could be significant. They have a hot voice haha, like do you just stare at their lips when they speak??😂💋 Their touch is so irresistible to my pile 1's like the way they touch you would probably feel really pleasing.🥴 You guys are really far into loving this person, like these feelings for them have run deep even until the end of the year🎄💗 You low key want to kiss this person I'm hearing aww ^v^ My pile 1's have such a soft and adorable love for this person like how could they ignore that??

🎀What they want for christmas: Absence, Center, Face, Spiral, 2nd house, Fire, 3rd house, 4th house, Lilith, Sun,😋🧨♉❌ Ohh okay there's definitely something your person wants to rid of this season oml like that is their christmas present, now I'm called to say it's people bothering them that they wish would just leave them be for now😞 This could be family or just anyone around them that is causing problems for them during this time. They want to have peace and quiet away from any gossip or fake smiles and be able to enjoy the finer things, they also want to be comfortable and home for christmas. They don't wanna be the center of attention right now, like literally all they want is some time to themselves to enjoy the holidays!!😫 Ugh I feel so bad for them like seriously my pile 1's your person is so done with people invading their personal space and taking up their time. All they want for christmas is to take a break from all the drama and go slow with things, sit back and relax while listening to christmas tunes.🎄🎷💕 They want to go off the radar and enjoy a christmas in solitude only with those closest to them they trust. They may also wish to spend less money this year, and spend the holidays simpler. For some of my pile 1's this person wishes to run away with you for christmas, that is one gift they desire is to go far away to a desolate yet beautiful winter wonderland and take you with them.🥺❄☃️ This year they may feel less of a need for anything under their tree, ohh but one thing is that they sort of want is to have you in their possesion for christmas, like their special little gift to unwrap😳 But overall they just to have a pleasant cozy time enjoying christmas in peace.💭🎀❄

💌Messages from your person: This is all my fault, It's too early, I'm loyal to you, Just dance with me to holiday tunes, I only listen to you, Do you think I'm hot? I want to spend time with you this christmas, Listen up (Haha your person has a lot to say omg🥰) Extra cards: Nice, Pluto, Princess, Wild, Feminine

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❄💌

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the snowing snowman emoji~☃️ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗

Pile 2🌸

Sign energy: Seduction, Gap, Pretty, Search, Mindfulness, 2nd house, Mars, Juno, Eros, Mercury, 🤯😴👗🏚

🎄Your person's energy: We have a very attractive person for my pile 2's!! I feel like you guys have a noticeable height difference. (so cute >w<) Taurus, Aries, Scorpio, Gemini and Virgo are posible placements, may have mercury or mars in 2nd house. Haha your person is searching for the one💍 They are very serious about committing and finding their life partner I mean they are so passionate about finding their future spouse omg💞 They know how to reel others in romantically with their voice and way of flirting, this is someone they are very good at🤭🌹 They can turn anyone on pretty easily I'm hearing, because they're super smooth and witty. Now your person definitely has good looks, you find them pretty and hot at the same time like "which one??"😰 Lol it's both. Somewhere in your mind you are low key curious what they look like in a dress😏 (no matter gender haha) Ah my pile 2's your person is really desirable and attractive!! You may feel they are the one for you, and you might know their flirting tricks all too well. They blow you away nonetheless with their stunning natural beauty and charms, aw and I bet their voice could put you to sleep like it's so soft and soothing to you.😭💗 Their voice turns you on too, and the things they say... they definitely seduce you well. You want to dress up for this person, and you think of them often. They are maybe even sweeter than cake to you, that is how they make you feel my pile 2's! <3

🎀What they want for christmas: Practice, Store, Control freak, Vent, Disturbance, Venus, Scorpio, Air, 1st house, Eros,💪🧡🎢😩 Wow okay this is alot. So your person is definitely obsessing over something for christmas, like it has to happen or else!!🤯 Now I'm getting not so much as getting gifts for themselves, but they want to buy gifts for others. Lol they also wish they could buy love for christmas I'm hearing🥺💓 Omg pile 2 I think they want you for christmas, like they want to have you all to themselves!!😫🙏 Loving you may be their christmas wish, and getting to unwrap you too🥵 They have a lot of crazy fantasies for christmas of my pile 2's but I will try to keep it shallow as possible. Your body is their most desired gift, let's just say that. And they wish they could have a lot of fun with their christmas toy🫣🧤♨️ I mean endless control and play time. That is ALL I will be saying for that I'm sorry maybe take it over to one of my spicy readings lol anyways as the song goes, all they want for christmas is you like wow.🥺 They want lots of pleasures for christmas, and a lot of indulging. Splurging on shopping and taking photos for christmas, I feel like they wanna buy a lot of stuff they find pretty😂 Buying you christmas gifts may be something they wish to do someday, they want to give you so much for the holidays. They want to please you because it gives them a sense of fulfillment too. Taking you to stores and buying you whatever you want, that is on their christmas list😖🗒💞

💌Messages from your person: We would be perfect together, I want to protect you, Don't hold back, Think of me, I get lost in your eyes, I know exactly how you like it, Do as I say, Don't give me the silent treatment (Omg😳🤭) Extra cards: Routine, January, Slow, Social media, Optimist

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❄💌

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the pink flower emoji~🌸 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗

Pile 3🐈

Sign energy: Apology, Hard, Bottom, First impression, Moon, Sun, Aquarius, 8th house, Cancer, Jupiter, 🔍🟧🧚‍♀️🍎

🎄Your person's energy: This is a very emotional person on pile 3's mind, bright and angelic. Possible placements are Cancer, Leo, Aquarius, Scorpio, Sagittarius and Pisces. I feel like you are heavily looking into this person for whatever reason, seeking out all the possibilities. You probably learn more about them way easier than math.🤣 The color orange may be significant or you've been seeing it lately. You have been keeping an eye on this person especially through online sources, trying to discover what they're all about��💭 They may have peaked your interest at first because you found them physically *ahem* attractive♨️ and now you've been trying to look deeper beyond their pretty face and know get to know them well. They may have done something they regret in the past, causing them to feel bad or upset with themselves. They really do have an ethereal beauty to them, like an elf or fairy. You want to know a lot about this person, to know them so well it's almost scary.😨 Because they interest you so much, and you like being curious. Some of you know this person through online so you look at their photos with wonder of who they really are behind it all, you wanna get to the bottom of it. I feel like you guys like having something to obsess over and hey it keeps things interesting for some of you so that is why you are so involved with your person.💗✔ I'm getting some detective vibes from you guys, trying to discover your person <3

🎀What they want for christmas: Meant to be, Captive, Regret, Locked, Cold, Moon, 6th house, Uranus, Venus, Eros, 🎭🧬🍁🦉 Aww so for some of you, this person really wants to be with their mother for christmas.🥺💞💞 How sweet. For some of my pile 3's this person may have family or relatives in canada. They may feel tired and trapped in their routine/job and wanna take time off from their obligations to attend family gatherings and reunions.🥂💫 There is a very specific gift they long for this christmas, they are fixated on receiving love.💏🎄 They are wishing on a star to feel the warm feeling and sweetness that comes from a lover during the holidays. They may regret spending too much time online or through their phone instead of focusing on the love they long for. Your person is definitely dreaming of a white christmas, they want it to be cold and snowing so they can bundle up in the comfort of a blanket with their loved ones.🏠🧣💞 They also imagine the best gift of all would be holding their lover tight to shield them from the cold, and keep them safe and warm in their arms.❤ Having a steamy night with them is also on their list😳 Haha your person really wants a romantic time for the holidays, but they are actually really overthinking about what to get for christmas. Also thinking of what to gift to coworkers or friends, that is a lot of what's weighing on their mind right now. They want all sorts of events and romance for the holidays omg my pile 3's your person really wants to be loved for christmas💓

💌Messages from your person: You'll never forget me, Just listen to me, They're just jealous, I'm in trouble, I should be, You're my problem, Why would you want me? You're the only one for me this christmas (Ahh😆💗) Extra cards: Pretend, Softie, Admiration, Details, Offer

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❄💌

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the cat emoji~🐈 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗

Pile 4🦢

Sign energy: Learning, Head, Model, Waist, Bones, 5th house, 3rd house, 10th house, Uranus, Pluto, 🌸🎬🤞👸

🎄Your person's energy: Such lovely vibes for my pile 4's person, powerful magnetic aura too. Leo, Gemini, Capricorn, Aquarius and Scorpio placements are significant, Pluto in 3rd house, Uranus in 5th placements. Your person has really good bone structure I'm hearing, may have model like features especially jawline or bones. Their waistline is highly attractive to you, they have an effortless charm to them.💗 I feel like a lot of people obsessively think of your person, and say possesive things like "they're mine" or "I own you" like everyone wants a piece of them omg🙄 They have a movie star look to them, they just look like the face of a movie. Very unique and creative too, their hairstyle or color is eye catching in some way. I am getting very successful vibes from your person, like they are on the right track✔ Their mind is very deep and magnetic, like they have a hot mind lol. (probably a dark one too😳) The same flower emoji came out that represented pile 2 so for those who felt drawn to that pile maybe check that too. Your person has such a cool vibe to them, untouchable and gorgeous. I feel like they roll their eyes at the invasive comments others make about them, they don't let the little people bother them. They know what they're worth, I feel like this person makes a lot of money😩💲💰 They walk like it's nobody's business omg model walk, and that intense stare ahh my pile 4's your person is killing it😍

🎀What they want for christmas: Romance, Masculine, Chemistry, Short-term, Harm, Virgo, Moon, Aries, Sagittarius, Eros, ♨️🎫🤨🧯 Omg I was not expecting this but your person wants to get on the naughty list apparently.😰👿 We won't be going into details here but wow, just wow. All I will say is that your person wants a usable gift for sure, something they can have their fun with and meet their needs.😭 Unleash their worst side, they want a lot of chemistry. Your person wants to redeem their prize with someone, it is possible this is my pile 4's. Tbh what they really want is a short-term wild night as their christmas present, to let loose from their job/routine and let out all their aggressions on someone🫣 They may simply wish to yell at someone to release all their built up stress from everything they've dealt with this year.💢 Omg they just want to go off on those people who annoy them lmao that would literally be the best christmas present to them.😂🎁 But yeah they have a lot of naughty things on their list, definitely physical fantasies I won't go into but yeah. They want a hot and passionate time with someone, to take away their worries and let out their wild side.🤯 Maybe they feel like showing you for your christmas present, and since they could really feel like dominating someone it could be their hope to satisfy your fantasies of them.💓

💌Messages from your person: The pain will go away, We will be together, Let's listen to christmas music together, I always fantasize about you, Don't just stand there, No, I believe in you, You should smile more. (How cute🤭💫) Extra cards: Compulsive, First love, One of a kind, Despair, Sight

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❄💌

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the swan emoji~🦢 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

[saiyanmazen]

I was rereading dbz manga and noticed something. Maybe this is just because of the translation but....

VEGETA NAMED TRUNKS?

also I am just realizing now that the backstory of him ascending by going out in space was anime canon filler only and is not in the manga 🙀 this is changing so much of how I now view the 3 year gap omg 🙈

Oh, this is huge!

You're right, this changes everything. Even if we consider that Vegeta probably got the name from Bulma since it's a part of the whole underwear theme, it still means that Vegeta sees it as his decision that Trunks has that name.

Is this the same in the Japanese version, I wonder?

@shannonsketches, I bet you have thoughts on this!

[holymolywhattheheck]

"OMG u support Alex!! U support a pedo/groomer/whatever along the lines!"

THIS IS NOT FUCKING OKAY. this rant is going to be so ugly but people FUCKING DOXXXING HIM?? The document has so many shitty gaps in it. And a lot of people are pointing out it's flaws. Alex is a 20 year old mentally unstable young adult, if mentally even that. Someone who had a whole career. Only to be pushed over by someone making some allegations that might as well not be true,considering the latest edits and news.

People are fucking heartless. All this Internet drama and people believe everything they see. I'll be honest I'm petrified. I'm petrified for his health. Do people not realize how dumb it is to just immediately go "listen to victims"!!! When the victims could be lying. Just with no other side of a story, and a 27 page long document with huge gaps in it, people just love to hate. It's true that Alex was mentally ill and is. And then Ven decides to do fucking this? ADMITTING THAT THEY WANTED TO END HIS CAREER? And then mention in the document that they want no threats to him. Fuck them. And as mentioned before, Alex had a suicide scare apparently some time not a while back. And with this. What the fuck.

People love to see the downfall. Fuck those people. Actually fucking fuck those people. What the fuck is wrong with them and their logic.

This shit is horrifying. Doxxing is so so so fucking terrifying. No one knows Alexs part of the story. DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT THIS IS NOT FUCKING OKAY? SPEAKING FROM A STABLE MIND.

[maeby-bby]

General Descendants Headcanons

Word Count: 384

A/N: this is just my general headcanons in general! i would love discussion but in my head this is just how i view everyone because i love them all <3

okay let's get into this!

dove confirmed mal is pan and has a huge crush on evie, so I definitely see evie being bi or pan and having a huge comphet problem because of her mother

jay is also a raging bisexual if I've ever seen one (source: I'm bi)

as for carlos I personally love his relationship with jane, I think they're very cute together

though I do think carlos is bi as well, or at least queer in some way

harry and gil are also raging bisexuals

harry literally flirts with anything that moves/breathes lets be so honest

uma is so complicated for me because I love her with harry but I also love the idea that she's a lesbian and is possibly jealous of evie and mal

seriously if mal and uma were together they would be such a power couple especially since they work so well together

I'm a huge gil x jay person, I think their chemistry in D3 was amazing

imagine them on their gap year traveling the world omg-

doug is so complicated for me because I do feel like he genuinely loves evie but the reason they never said "the L word" is because evie was struggling so much with comphet and didn't understand what she was feeling

and doug waited for her! he never pushed her to do anything she wasn't comfortable with and was happy just to be her friend and help her with her business

or its just a lavender marriage anyway-

family is so important to everyone in the descendants universe, whether it is by blood or not

which is a theme already shown in the movies

after the barrier is taken down i do see there being a couple hiccups here and there BUT it is taken care of fairly easily

and in my head i do see a lot of unlikely friendships and auradon just winning all the tournaments and things

plus everyone's fashion just gets 10x better in general

which is why you see more dyed hair on AKs (auradon kids) in the rise of red instead of it being exclusive to just VKs

i don't think any of this is groundbreaking by any means but i just love talking about descendants in general so! hopefully you enjoyed!

[sublimecatgalaxy]

LIZZZ MY LOVEEE

Let’s get some Spencer Reid 😩😩 maybe like flirtatious bickering? Like reader’s doing something and Spencer’s like “you’re doing it wrong” and readers like “no” and he’s like “yeah” and they’re like “then show me how to do it right” : D love you!! AND THE NEW THEME OMG

Oh my god guys look who it is. My baby. Who comes up with the best request ever and some of my favorite things I've ever written have been requested by DIS BABY. Also congrats, you're my first Spencer requester!

"Spencer." I call out, spinning around in my rolling chair, careful to not disturb the growing tower of cards beside me. He looks at me with wide, curious eyes, cheeks reddening briefly before he takes a step of acknowledgment closer to me. "Why are you stalking me?" The teasing smile on my lips makes a bashful one slip across his face, hands clasping in front of him as he motions past me.

"Not stalking." His tongue clicks, feet carrying him to the table where he looks down at my growing tower. "You're doing it wrong." How am I building a card tower wrong, doctor? I bite back the snarky comments but instead hold my hands out to him with a shrug.

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are." He nods, not willing to compromise and instead just lowers himself down onto the seat beside me and rests rests his elbows on his knees. He leans towards me, nimble fingers rubbing against his sharp jaw.

"Then show me how to do it right, Reid."

He does.

He spends the next thirty minutes deconstructing the tower that I've built out of pure boredom and built a masterpiece in its wake, his own hands guiding mine on where and how to place the cards so they'll stay.

Of course he would be good at this, of course he would know, architecturally, how to build 'the best' card tower.

"Didn't you used to have issues with communicating with women." I ask, looking down at his hand that's still lingering on my own and he's quick to snap it back to his lap, almost as if he'd been burned by my touch.

"I used to have issues communicating period." He laughs gently, his smile making my chest warm with fond adoration, loving the way his brows knit together in confusion. "Why?"

"You just seem uncharacteristically close." He suddenly becomes aware of the lack of space between us and takes my observation as a chance to move but my hands quickly reach out to stop him from rolling away in his chair, enjoying his closeness.

"Sorry." He mutters, eyes flickering down to look down at his hands in his lap. "I find it easy to be comfortable around you." His confession makes my heart swell with pride, happy that after all the years of being sort of more than friends, we've finally bridged that gap where he's no longer awkward around me.

"That's kind of sweet, Spence." My bottom lip juts out in a dramatic pout and I finally manage to pull an awkward groan from him as he pushes my chair away from him.

"Yeah, yeah."

"No, it is." I clap, reaching out to grab his hands so I can pull him into a loose hug. He doesn't push me away nor does he make any sort of complaint, just rests his hands against the small of my back and tucks his chin into my shoulder. "Progress!" I whisper with a huge grin, patting his back gently.

"Still don't like hugs." He mutters but doesn't make any move to actually move, he just stays where he is, heart pounding against his ribs.

"You like me enough to like hugs." That's what does it. He's immediately rolling away from me, shaking out his arms and rising to his feet with a tired smirk, his eyes rolling in denial.

"Shut up."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

@officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @witxhy-lexx @minjix @luvroseee @tee-swizzle @savageneversaw @admiringlove @hysteriahall @piceous21 @starlightandfairies @igotmajordaddyissues @drewstarkey-wife1

[babybluebex]

𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: series masterlist | a new preacher comes to your town, and you’re overwhelmed by him. you try to keep away from father james, but, the more you see him and the more he kisses your hand, the more you realize that staying away won’t be so easy. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jamie bower x fem!reader (rpf) 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 7k 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: rpf (real person fiction), smut MINORS DNI, p in v sex, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, heavy breeding kink (the last line of the song is literally "i'm coming inside" are u kidding me), preacher kink, praise kink, religious themes, age gap (reader is early 20s, jamie is 34), jamie has a huge god complex omg 𝐀/𝐍: i’ve been working on this on again and off again since the music video came out in august, so take it before it drives me more insane than it already has lol

All morning, you could have sworn the preacher was looking at you. 

It was a hot summer Sunday morning, one where you wore your nicest dress, just as your mother had told you to. You had forgotten how hot it got at home; after being at college for the past few years, you had gotten acclimated to the big city, and you couldn't remember what home was like. 

To be honest, you had been dreading church. You had lied to your parents when you told them that you had kept up the habit while at college, and you despised the thought of wasting a good Sunday morning, even though you were on vacation. No matter what, you had gotten up and gotten dressed, and you were tailing behind your parents as they led the charge into the church. 

The building itself was miniscule, surrounded by the desert on all sides, set apart from the rest of town. Your hometown was small, so small that people usually only lumped it in with the nearby biggest city and didn’t know that your town even existed on its own. But it did, and, in a town like that, everybody knew everybody else’s business. 

Which made the preacher all that more confusing to you. 

You could vaguely remember your mother telling you about the appearance of a new preacher at your church after the former pastor retired. It had been months ago, and you only remembered the name she had told you: James Bower. There were other details as well, something about him being young and British, but you didn’t really listen too closely to that phone call with your mother. She had been going on and on about church and you tended to tune that out. 

“Mom,” you said quickly as you approached the church, seeing the door hanging open, welcoming everyone inside. Standing at the open door was a man, dressed in a black suit with a white shirt, a black hat covering his head and shading his face. He was older than you, but also younger than your parents, and he was shaking hands with every man that walked in front of him and setting kisses on the ladies’ cheeks. “Who is that?” 

“Oh, that’s Father James,” your mother told you, sucking at the back of her teeth for a moment. “I told you about him, he replaced Father Nicholas.”

“Yeah, I remember you telling me,” you said softly. “He’s just… Younger than I thought.” And, by the flashes of a sharp jawline and deadly eyes that you could see as you approached, he was far more attractive than you would have taken a man like him for. 

“He’s good,” your mother said carefully, as if she was controlling her tongue. “Cares about what he preaches about, really believes it.” 

“That’s good,” you mumbled. 

Finally, it was your turn to be greeted by the preacher, and you were struck uncharacteristically silent by him. His voice, a deep baritone timbre, got under your skin as he greeted your mother with a kiss, and he gave your father a firm handshake. “And who do we have here?” Father James Bower asked, his steel-blue eyes cutting you with his gaze. 

You could tell instantly: this man would be trouble. “This is our daughter,” your mother said. “Visiting from college.” 

“Ah, yes,” Father James said, his lips stretching into a smile. He took your hand in his, his skin rough and dry but lovely to feel, and he pressed his lips to your fingers, greeting you with an old-fashioned kiss. “Your mother told me stories about you.” 

“Good stories, I hope?” you chuckled lightly, and Father James’ smile stayed as he dropped your hand. 

“Only the best,” he told you. 

“I’ve heard about you too, Father James,” you said, and you watched something flicker in his eyes, a quiet kind of recognition, although what he was recognizing, you had no idea. 

“Good things?” he teased, and you smiled coyly at him. Two could play that game. 

“Oh, no, awful things,” you said, and your mother laughed. “Just the worst.” 

“I guess I’ll have to redeem myself,” Father James said. “I think Marjorie saved you lot a seat in the front; what a dear.” Your mother and father surged ahead, finding the seats that Father James indicated, but a quick and tight grip to your wrist kept you in place. 

Father James held you back, his thumb smoothing nicely down your wrist, and he lifted your hand back to his mouth, kissing your fingers again. “And that’ll be Jamie to you, love,” he said softly, barely loud enough for you to hear. “You can drop that James business.” 

“If you say so, Father” you said softly. 

“Don’t call me that, either,” he said. “Just Jamie.” 

“Jamie,” you said and you sighed out a deep breath. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

The service was odd. By all accounts, it was a perfectly good service, normal by all means, but something about the young and handsome Father James (or Jamie, as he told you) leading the sermon was different in a way that you couldn’t tell if you liked or not. Your mother was right— he obviously cared about what he preached, that morning’s work set on the sin of temptation, and he raised his voice and delivered his sermon with an expert hand. 

But he was looking at you the whole time. He was borderline staring at you, and you shifted in your seat, wondering what was the matter. Of course, you could think the obvious— that he was thinking of you as he preached on temptation, you, the pretty young thing that had walked through his doors— but it felt wrong to even consider that Jamie would stoop that low. He was a man of God, no matter how unconventional he looked with his rings and gold bracelets and the tattoos on his middle fingers.

You got to speak with him further after the service, while everyone was leaving the house of God. You stepped outside with a shiver, despite the sticky heat, and your mother grabbed your hand as she told you that she was going to bring the car around. “Maybe you should go to talk to James,” she said. “He always looks so lonely, and it seems like he likes you.”

“Likes me?” you echoed. 

“He didn’t kiss my hand twice,” your mother said with a shrug. “He didn’t ask me to call him Jamie.” You followed your mother’s gaze to just on the other side of the small wooden bridge, to a little garden, where Jamie stood, looking out of place in his all-black attire, looking down at the ground as his hand rubbed his chin. 

“Are you encouraging me to find romance with your preacher?” you asked with a smile, and your mother rolled her eyes. 

“Maybe not romance,” she said. “You’re too young for that. But friendship, definitely.” 

You weren’t too young for that, you knew it, but you understood what she meant. Don’t fall in love with the preacher. That should be easy. You approached him quietly, not wanting to startle him if he was lost in thought, but he turned those devilish steel-blue eyes to you in an instant. “You,” he said lightly, dropping his hand. 

“Me,” you shrugged. “I, umm, really liked your sermon.” 

“Thank you, love,” Jamie said. A moment passed where he watched you, and he suddenly said, “You’re lying to your parents.” 

“Excuse me?” you asked. “What do you mean—”

“You don’t go to church when you’re at university,” Jamie said quickly. “I can tell, you looked completely lost the whole time.” 

“Is it that obvious?” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself, and, when Jamie nodded, you muttered, “Fuck!” 

“How long are you in town?” Jamie asked. His hands drifted to his pants, digging into his pocket, and he extracted a lean carton of cigarettes, along with a lighter. He was quick to push a cigarette in-between his lips, and you watched as he lit it up. 

“Oh!” you said quickly. You were staring, just like he was. “Umm, just until Friday.”

“One more week,” Jamie laughed, blowing the smoke from his mouth. “I bet you can’t wait to go back to your friends and your little sinful ways, can you?” 

“What makes you think I live in sin?” you asked. The exchange felt playful, not necessarily too mean-spirited, and Jamie grinned around his cigarette. 

“I know girls like you,” he said. “You wear your little dresses and sing your little hymns, but it’s all a disguise to cover up the way you really live. I bet you’ve even kissed a boy, haven’t you?” He put on a shocked look, like he was truly disappointed, and it made you laugh.

“You’ve got me figured out,” you chuckled. Then, a boldness washed over you, and you couldn’t control the way you added, “And I’ve done a lot more than kiss a few boys.” 

Jamie raised his dark eyebrows at you, plucking his cigarette from between his lips. “You have?” he asked. “Anything you need to repent for? I am a preacher, after all, I can help.” 

“No, nothing like that. I just…” You shrugged, and mumbled, “Okay. You’ve got me. I haven’t done anything like that.” 

“Why did you say you did?” Jamie asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. 

“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “To make you like me, I guess. Guys like girls who know about that stuff, right?”

“Oh, little lamb,” Jamie cooed softly. “I used to run around with some bad guys when I was your age, I’ve got the marks to prove it,  and I had my fill of girls who were trying to impress me. I like you more, knowing that you’re a good girl who hasn’t done anything of that sort.” He smoked for a moment, blowing it at the ground, and he added, “You should be going.” 

“Why?” you asked. “Have I done something wrong?” 

“No, you didn’t,” Jamie said. “But I might.”

“What do you mean?” you asked. 

“I really want to kiss you,” Jamie told you, and your heart slammed against your ribcage at his confession. 

“Is that…” you began. “Is that allowed?”

“Allowed, yes,” Jamie said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “But, frowned upon? Very much so.” 

“Why?” you asked. “Is it me?” 

“No, darling, it’s not you,” Jamie said. “I’m a man of God. I can’t just kiss any girl, I need to have intentions about it, and my intentions… My thoughts about you… Are less than worthy of a man like myself.” 

Lightning rocked your belly, and you took a step backwards. “Oh,” you said. “I understand. Umm… Yeah, it’ll be good if I leave.” Jamie nodded silently in agreement, finishing up his cigarette, and you mumbled, “Will I see you on Wednesday? At night service? I bet my parents will make me go.” 

“Yes, you will,” Jamie replied. He hesitated for a moment, his mouth open, obviously wanting to say something, and he finally added, “Wear something white.” 

“Why?”

Jamie looked at you with those paralyzing blue eyes, and he said, “You’re as beautiful as an angel. You should dress like one.” 

You hardly got any sleep that night. Between bouts of nightmares— nothing you could remember but left you with a nasty feeling when you woke up hyperventilating— you were plagued by the idea of Jamie. 

Every time you closed your eyes, you could only see him. His blond hair, his blue eyes, his plush lips, that smile that bordered goodness and badness. As you laid awake in your small bed, the tiny one you had grown up in, you wondered what he was doing. Was he asleep, as you too should be? Maybe he was up, working on a sermon. A selfish part of you allowed yourself to think that, perhaps, he was awake, thinking of you. 

That idea made your thighs tingle. You knew how terrible it was to think of your preacher like that, but he had said it himself. His intentions with you weren’t worthy of a man of God. Jamie had basically confessed to wanting to kiss you and maybe even more, and you hadn’t been brave enough to challenge him on it. You regretted your timidness, and you buried your head under your pillow as you tried to get any sleep at all.

This routine continued for days. Nightmares, then Jamie. Jamie, then more nightmares. You didn’t see him during the day, so you were left with only the memory of your two tiny interactions. You could remember the way his blond hair had swayed in the wind as he smoked, the faint hint of his cologne carrying on the air as he kissed your hand; you couldn’t escape him. You knew that, the next time you saw him, you had to tell him. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long to see Jamie. Wednesday night came around quickly, and you tore apart your closet looking for the little white sundress that you knew you still had from when you were in high school. You’re as beautiful as an angel, his accent rang in your head as you tugged the dress over your head, and you sighed at yourself in the mirror. The irony wasn’t lost on you— dressing like an angel, yet still tempting the preacher. You wondered what he would do when he saw you; would he try to kiss you again? Maybe he wouldn’t do anything, and he would keep up the game of cat and mouse that you had. Honestly, you liked it. Being wanted was nice, but there was something fun about being desired and not being allowed to act on those desires. It made everything sweeter. 

Your parents didn’t say anything as you exited your room, grabbing a thin sweater just in case it was cold in the sanctuary (it never was, but your mother urged you to come prepared). The car ride was quiet, and your hands shook as your father parked in the small lot, steadying yourself for meeting Jamie. 

He stood at the door to the church again, greeting everyone as they came in. He wore a dark wide-brimmed hat, his usual suit, the shirt buttons done all the way up to his slender throat. He looked cool and smooth, and he grinned like a cat when he saw you. You had never felt more like a mouse in your life, and you gratefully took his hand into yours. 

“My, oh my,” Jamie said, his eyes scanning your frame. You should have felt uncomfortable under his gaze, but you didn’t, despite the obviously hungry look in his light eyes. Even if he hadn't told you about his intentions, it wouldn't be hard to figure out why he was looking at you. “Who is this vision in white I see before me?” 

Your face went warm, and you managed to mutter out, “Thank you, Father.” Jamie did his usual kisses to your fingers, which only served to make your face go even hotter. You felt like everyone was looking at you but somehow, Jamie’s soft eyes soothed you. It seemed like nothing bad could happen so long as you were in Jamie's arms. Knowing this, you tugged him close by his hand and pressed a gentle kiss to his smooth cheek, and you heard him draw in a quick breath at your meager affection. 

“Thank you, little lamb,” Jamie told you. His cheeks tinged just a shade of pink, not even enough to really call it a blush— if you didn’t know any better, you would have attributed it to the heat and dry air. “I’d like to speak to you after the service, if that’s possible.” 

“Of course,” you told him. “Am I in trouble?” 

“Oh, no,” Jamie said. “Quite the opposite. I’d like to discuss our relationship; or where I’d like it to go, that is.”

You swallowed thickly, nervously, and you said, “Alright. I’ll see you then.”

Like on Sunday, Jamie’s sermon was beautiful. He spoke with power and grace, and you could hardly believe it when the end of it came. You could watch him speak for hours and never get bored of it. You stayed sitting in the pew as your parents stood, and your mother furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Are you alright?” she asked, and you picked at the bottom of your dress. 

“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m alright. Jamie just said he wanted to talk to me after the sermon.”

“Oh,” your mother said. “What about?”

“I’m not sure,” you lied. “I think he might try to ask me on a date.” 

Your mother ground her back teeth; you could see her annoyance. “Make good decisions with him,” she said. “Don’t let him be let astray.” 

“I won’t, Mom,” you told her, your stomach twisting. You knew that you absolutely were leading him astray, but maybe he had a good plan on how to keep your relationship pure. Based on the way he was talking to you on Sunday, though, there was no way you could stay pure with him. “Jamie is good, I won’t do anything bad to him.” 

Jamie stood at his altar as everyone slowly filed out, making kind conversation with the people who approached him, and you watched him as you chewed on your bottom lip. He looked so good, and you crossed your legs as you waited. Finally, the last person left, the heavy wooden doors banging closed behind them, and Jamie turned his gaze towards you. 

Silently, he stepped away from the altar and towards you, the heavy heels of his boots clicking against the creaky wood floors. “You look beautiful,” Jamie told you as he sat down next to you, pulling off his hat and ruffling up his blond hair. 

You nodded anxiously. “You do too,” you told him. “Very handsome.” 

“Thank you, little lamb,” Jamie said. “Now, I wanted to speak to you about… Us. I think it’s obvious that I can’t go on being polite and nice with you.” 

“Is it?” you asked. “I mean, you said you wanted to kiss me—“

“You sweet girl,” Jamie said with a little pout. “Did you really not know? I want to ruin you.” 

“Oh,” you said sharply. “I-I mean, I figured, but I didn’t want to say anything and assume a-and then make a fool out of myself.” 

“No fools here,” Jamie said. His hand touched your thigh, his hand impossibly warm against you, and you laid a gentle hand on top of his, letting your fingers nudge his. “I like knowing what you’re thinking. Tell me what’s on your mind.” 

“Honestly?” you asked with a sigh, and Jamie nodded. “How badly I wish you would kiss me.” 

Quickly, he leaned into you, and he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle and simple, and you leaned into him as his hand raised to gently touch your cheek. His rings were cool against your skin, and you pressed yourself closer to him as he held you carefully. He tasted like cigarettes and warm skin, all man and all Jamie, and he gently smoothed his teeth against your bottom lip, biting just enough to make you smile, before he fell away from you. He didn’t pull away completely, though, touching his forehead against yours and taking a deep breath. “Good,” he whispered. “Now I’d like to do something else.” 

“What is that?” you asked. 

“I think I’d like to make love to you,” Jamie told you. “Only if you want that, though.” 

You nodded quickly. “I want that,” you told him. “But, um, I’m a little nervous.” 

“Because you’ve never done it before?” Jamie asked, and you nodded quickly. “We don’t have to. I’d be happy to take you to dinner and drop you off back at your house, leaving you completely intact.” 

“Or…” you started. “You could fuck me here and now, and give into temptation.” 

“Oh, I’d love to do that,” Jamie said softly. He tilted his head, as if contemplating kissing you again. “I’d really love to… Tell me to stop and I will.” 

“I won’t,” you breathed, and you met him for another kiss. This one was instantly more, instantly hungrier, his warm tongue snaking between your lips and into your mouth as he held you close. His hands grabbed your waist and he tugged you close, and he broke the kiss to take a deep breath. His hands smoothed down to your thighs, and he pulled you into his lap, your legs parting wide to envelop his hips. He pulled at your pretty sundress as he kissed you again, and you carded your fingers through his hair as he claimed you again, chasing you into a hungry kiss. 

Your hips rocked down onto his as your knees pressed into the hard wood of the pew, aching just a little, and Jamie’s hand pressed into your ass and shoved your hips down onto him as his bucked up into you. You felt his hardness through his trousers, pressing up into you, and you gasped at the feeling. “How long’s it been?” you whispered, and Jamie pressed his forehead to yours again before stealing another quick kiss. 

“Years,” he mumbled. “S’nice not to have to do this myself.” 

“You masturbate?” you asked with a giggle. “Naughty preacher.” 

You yelped as his hand came down onto your ass, spanking you hard, the sound of it reverberating through the empty sanctuary. “I’m a grown man,” he growled through gritted teeth. “I have needs. As of Sunday, though, I’ve been insatiable.” 

“Lucky me,” you smiled, and Jamie gave you a half-smile, more of a smirk than anything. “You gonna fuck me hard?” 

“Keep talking to me like that and I just might,” Jamie chuckled. “You have no idea what I’ve imagined as I fucked my hand. It’s like I told you, I want to ruin you.” 

“Ruin me,” you begged him, leaning forward and kissing his smooth neck. Your hands fell from his hair and down to his shirt, and you started to unbutton his shirt. The more skin you exposed, the more ink you saw, and you gaped at him as you smoothed your hands down his shaved chest. He was covered in tattoos, all on his chest and sternum and belly, and your mouth watered at the sight of them. “Oh my God…” 

“I told you, I used to run around with a bad crowd,” Jamie told you, his hands pressing upwards into your dress. “Rock music and girls, it was… But this is better. You are better than all of that.” 

“You flatter me,” you laughed. “You haven’t had me yet.” 

Jamie shrugged. “I know a good fuck when I see one,” he said. “Old habits die hard, I guess.” 

“Stop it,” you mumbled as you blushed,  and Jamie grabbed handfuls of your ass, rucking your dress up past your hips. “What made you want to join the church?” 

“I grew up going,” Jamie told you as your hands fell to his pants, playing with his belt but not undoing it. Your heart beat deep inside your chest at the prospect of undressing him and seeing his cock, a sort of anxious glee making your heart race, and you listened intently as Jamie told you his story. “Me, my brothers… But when I was young, your age, I rebelled against it and had a sinful lifestyle, all of that that I told you about… But I got tired of that. I got tired of existing just for pleasure and sin, and I turned back to the church to guide me. But then you— You came into my life just a few days ago, and I already know that you’re what I was made for. I was made to guide you, to help you… I’m not supposed to be here like this, but I can pray for forgiveness for this one night.” 

“I’ve never believed in this sort of stuff,” you admitted. “But maybe, with your guidance, I can find a way to come back home.” 

“I’d do anything for you,” Jamie said. “Now, little lamb, I need to be inside you.” 

“Need you too,” you mumbled, and you finally resolved yourself to open his pants. You undid his belt and tugged it out of the loops, and your fingers shakily went for the button and zipper, pulling it down. “Jamie, I’m a little nervous.” 

“That’s okay,” Jamie said. “That makes me feel better, I’m terrified. But I need you more than I’m scared of you.” 

“Me too,” you told him. You took a deep breath and reached your hand down into his trousers, and your hand was quickly filled by his hard cock. He felt thick and heavy and hot, and you pulled him from out of his pants to get a proper look at him. His cock was flushed red, uncut, with a bead of creamy pre-cum already leaking from his tip. “Oh, wow.” 

“Like what you see?” Jamie chuckled. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a girl all mooney-eyed over my cock. I almost missed it.” 

“It looks really…” you started. “Umm… Big. Will it fit?” 

Jamie laughed, his big smile on display for you. “Will it fit?” he repeated. “Of course it will. I’ll make it.” 

Your skin prickled at his words, and his hands moved from your ass to your front, nudging your panties aside with his slender fingers. His rough fingertips slipped against your skin, feeling you and the little bit of wetness that you had leaking from you. You had been wet ever since Jamie had first kissed you, and Jamie leaned up and gave you another quick kiss as his fingers danced at your cunt. “Are you ready, little lamb?” Jamie asked, and you nodded quickly before he sank one, long finger inside you. 

You gasped, grabbing hard at his shoulders to keep yourself upright, and Jamie leaned in and kissed at your neck as his finger stroked you from the inside. “Jamie!” you squealed, and he grinned into your neck. 

“Does that feel good, little lamb?” he whispered, and you nodded, digging your nails into his skin. “Good, good girl. Make it hurt, baby.” 

“Jamie,” you groaned as he withdrew from you for a moment before pushing back in, fucking you slowly on his finger. “Want more, God.” 

Jamie continued to kiss your neck as he pushed in a second finger, the stretch of your pussy around him making you whimper in pain and pleasure. Make it hurt, he said. It certainly did, but you loved it. You looked down at yourself, and you drank in the sight of his tattooed fingers plunging deep inside you, the cross on his middle finger shining with your wet. It was so sinful, but Jamie was right; you could pray for forgiveness and God would grant it. Maybe you could even pray together. 

“Need you,” you moaned and worked your hips down onto his fingers, taking him deeper. Your body craved him in a way you had never felt before, hot and needy, and you squirmed in his arms as you tried to get more of him. 

“It’ll hurt if I fuck you now,” Jamie told you, and you kissed him deep, tasting every inch of his mouth. He grunted a bit, then tugged away from your mouth, and he pulled his fingers from you, pressing his hands to either side of your face. “Darling, I know you’re needy, such a sweet little thing you are, but I’ll fuck you when I’m ready. And I’m not ready yet.” 

You pouted and whined, and Jamie pouted back at you, mocking you. “I know, little lamb,” he said. “But I want to take my time with you and savor my sin.” 

“Savor your sin,” you scoffed. “Please, Jamie, I’m ready!”

“I like the way you say my name,” Jamie mumbled, as if he were really thinking about it, and his hands danced in your hair, pushing it back from your face. “If I put my cock in you now, you mustn't get upset at how quickly I finish… It’s been years for me.” 

“I won’t,” you said softly. “I won’t be upset with you.” 

“Alright,” Jamie agreed. “Open your legs a little wider, you’re gonna ride my cock.” 

You did as he told you, parting your thighs even more severely than before, and he grabbed tight at your hips. He guided your hips with his strong grip, his azure eyes watching your every move, and you held his shoulders tightly as he touched the burning head of his cock to your quivering hole. “You ready?” he asked, and you nodded eagerly, your belly flipping. It was really about to happen; you were really about to give your virginity to your preacher. And, God, you had never wanted anything so badly. “Put your full weight on me, don’t be afraid to.” 

“Okay,” you agreed, and Jamie continued his guidance, pulling you down further and further, his hot cock sliding between your sticky folds and into you. The first intrusion punched the breath from your lungs, and you gasped, and Jamie smiled wickedly. This man was no angel; he was a devil, maybe even the Devil, come to corrupt you and bring you into his palace of sin. You loved the hot flame in your chest, and you sealed your fate with a kiss, biting his plush bottom lip. 

“My sweet lamb,” Jamie mumbled, pulling his lips from your teeth. “Feels like heaven inside you… Fuck, this is just what I wanted.”

Without warning, Jamie bucked his hips up into you, burying himself up to his balls inside your cunt, and you gasped loudly at the sudden fullness. You had never realized how empty you felt until you were full of him, and suddenly the world seemed to snap into sharp perspective. Your life had been dull without him, not so shiny and bright; your life, you, had been empty. It wasn’t God’s love that could fix this feeling; it was Jamie’s love. Intentions be damned, you needed him. You would get on your knees and worship your lover and, knowing him, he would relish the prayers of his name and make you pray louder. 

“Jamie,” you whimpered, hanging your head and hiding in his warm neck. He smelled good, like the musk of a man and cigarettes and cologne, and your cunt throbbed around him. He was unmoving inside of you, letting you adjust to the size and feel of him, and you tugged at the blond ends of his hair. If you looked closely, really studied him, you saw that there was a hint of mousy-brown peeking from his scalp. Dyed hair; not what he seemed, a wolf in sheeps’ clothing, intent on devouring innocent little lambs. “Jamie!” 

“That’s it, little lamb,” Jamie whispered, kissing the side of your face as he grabbed hard at your ass, surely leaving bruises in his wake. “Who’s fucking you, love?” 

“You!” you sobbed. You felt tears prick at your eyes, and Jamie’s controlling ways came back, tugging you up on his cock until only the head of him remained inside you, then he pushed you back down, burying himself deep inside you once more. “Jamie, God!”

“Which one?” Jamie growled in your ear. “Me or Him?”

“You!” you cried again. “Always you! I’ll always choose you.” 

“Good girl,” Jamie told you, and his hand landed on your ass in a quick smack. It stung, but it only heightened your sinful pleasure, and you moaned as you allowed your tears to fall. “Confess your sins to your god, tell me what you’ve done.” 

“I lie,” you whimpered. “I cheat, I steal. I’ve done so bad, please forgive me.” 

“Good fuckin’ girl,” Jamie grumbled in your ear, and he bit your neck, sucking hard on the sensitive skin. You knew he was leaving his mark, dark and ugly, on your skin, but, for someone as beautiful as he was, it would be alright. Your ground your hips down onto him, feeling his cock throb inside you, and his hands fell from your hips to stretch along the top of the pew, pressing his fingernails into the polished wood. His head tilted back just so, exposing the smooth and pale column of his throat, and he moaned softly, lightly. “Just like that, love. You’ll make me cum quick like this… I’ll forgive you, darling, you’ve done no wrong in my eyes. All the best lambs are led astray at times, it takes a powerful shepard to bring them back.”

“And that’s you?” you sniffled. 

Jamie’s head whipped up, his fallen eyes snapping open, and he examined your face, the tears streaming down your cheeks and your sputtery lips. You gasped out a sob, still riding his cock, and Jamie touched his hands to your arms, pulling them around his neck. Your front pressed against his, the straps of your dress falling from your shoulders, and Jamie laid a gentle kiss on your spit-covered mouth. “That’s me, lamb,” he said. “So long as you pray to me, I’ll lead you where you should be.” 

“Jamie,” you keened into his warm hands, feeling them explore your body, up your dress and down the front of it. Even his fingers were greedy, and you balked at the touch of him to that special nerve, sending shocks down your spine. “Jamie! Oh my God, fuck!” 

“Keep saying my name,” he said. “You’re doing so well for me. When we’re done here, I’ll take you home, have you pray to me all night. Would you like that? Just you and your god, all alone, worshipping me as I worship your body?”

“Yes!” you sobbed. His cock was so deep inside you, driving you wild, and you squeezed your arms around his neck to draw him into a kiss. Now you were the greedy one, chasing him with a million kisses, and Jamie smiled his winning grin. 

“Already devoted,” he said. “You’ll never stray very far again, will you?”

“Not as long as you fuck me like this,” you told him, and his fingers continued their harsh circles on your clit. Your cunt spasmed at the feeling, your entire body unsure what to do with itself, and you could taste your oncoming orgasm. You could tell that your lover, your god, was close too, and he gnashed his teeth as he pinched your thigh, making your legs open wider. 

“I’ll fuck you better,” he said. “In bed, I’ll kiss you all over and really worship you, I’ll take my time with you. Fuck, sweet thing, I’m cumming inside, I have to.”

“Please,” you begged him. “Give it to me, please, I need it.”

“I’ll worship you all night,” Jamie whispered, controlling your body as you rode him. His hot cock was heavy as he fucked in and out, the drag of him making you feel lightheaded, and you sniffled up your tears as Jamie whispered in your ear. “You’d like that, won’t you? Just you and me…” His eyes squeezed shut, his eyebrows lifting in ecstasy, and, when he spoke next, he was breathless. “I’m cumming, lamb, I’m—”

You felt his release coat your walls, your throbbing cunt milking him for every drop, and you moaned with him, singing your holy hymn. His fingers rubbed you through his orgasm, drawing you to your own finish, and your hips stuttered as you squealed and, for the first time, came. The hot lightning prodded at your thighs and belly and the base of your spine, and you gushed around him, covering you and him with your release. Your breaths came in short gasps as you tried to control your quivering body, and Jamie held you close, matching his breathing to yours. His inked chest was slick with sweat as he pressed himself against you, and you shucked off his jacket and unbuttoned shirt to get to his bare skin. Jamie laughed at you and smoothed his hand down your hair, and he kissed your forehead. 

“Good, good,” he whispered. “Such a good girl. Come here, you’re just shaking like a little leaf.” 

Jamie’s grip was tight around you as he held you, his cock now soft inside you, but he made no move to pull out. “Not exactly immaculate,” he mumbled, and he placed a kiss below your ear. “But it’ll do.” 

“Yes,” you gasped. “Oh, God, I love you.” 

“I love you so much,” Jamie whispered. “My sweet lamb. Come home with me, please, let me worship you.” 

“Of course,” you said. “Anything for you. Only…” 

“What?” Jamie asked. "What's wrong?"

“I think my parents are waiting for me,” you mumbled. “I told them that you were wanting to speak with me and nothing more.” 

“Hmm,” Jamie huffed quickly. “What a talk, huh?”

You giggled, and Jamie helped you up, your legs shaking as you stood. He fell from inside you, his soft cock just as beautiful as him hard, and you both busied yourself with fixing yourselves back into a presentable state. Jamie replaced his wide-brimmed hat to hide his messy hair, but there was no hiding what he had done to you. Bites on your neck, marks on your skin, bruises on your thighs. If this was what worship with him was like, it might be worth it to invest in a good painkiller. 

“Jamie?” you said softly, touching your tender neck, and he stood to his full height, examining you. He tsk-ed his tongue a few times as his fingers touched your neck as well, and he reached for your abandoned sweater, helping you pull it on.

“It won’t hide them,” Jamie started. “But it’ll do.” His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, the solid black heart on his chest visible through the gap, and you smiled at the thought of him. Your handsome man, your God, your inked and pierced and tatted rock-and-roll God. “I don’t mean to scare you with this, lamb, but if you think that this life would suit you, we could… Well, let’s say that you might not be leaving on Friday.” 

“No?” you asked. “I’d be staying here with you, I suppose?” 

“Only if you’d like,” Jamie said quickly. “If you want, you can go back to your life in the big city and forget about this small town, it’s what I would do.” 

“But what if I don’t want that?” you asked. “What if I want to be… I don’t know, your muse? Your Mother Mary? What is a simple girl to a god?”

“You can be whatever you wish to be,” Jamie told you. “I’d marry you right now, in fact, to keep you. But I guess we should probably try to at least act like we’re courting like a normal couple instead of getting married within three days of knowing each other.”

“But couples back then used to do that all the time,” you said quickly. The thought of marriage excited you, wearing his ring and carrying his name and maybe even his child; it was all so invigorating. “My grandfather proposed to my grandmother after a week of meeting her.” 

“A week does not three days make, little lamb,” Jamie chuckled. “How about this? We’re together, using whatever title you’d like and makes you comfortable, and, after enough time, we can tell the church that we’re getting married.” 

“How much time is that?” you asked. 

“Enough time for those hickies to fade, at least,” Jamie said, pressing his thumb to one of the marks on your neck. “Does that sound nice?” 

“Yes,” you said. “It does.” 

Jamie walked you to the front door of the church and he opened the door for you. You saw your parents’ car idling in the small lot, all alone, but, before you could say anything, Jamie pressed his palm to your cheek and kissed you gently. Only his lips pressed to yours, no snaking tongue or wandering hands, and you gasped gently. “Jamie, my parents can see—“

“This was our first kiss,” he told you quickly. “We spoke about how you wished to be closer to God, and I asked you to dinner, and I couldn’t control my urges and kissed you. Now, I’ll make a face and turn away, regretting what I’ve done.” 

“What an actor I’ve got,” you giggled, and Jamie smiled against your mouth. The kiss finally broke, and Jamie smoothed down his jacket on his body as he assumed the anxious energy of a man who wasn’t sure of his actions. “When will I see you next?” you asked. 

“Tonight,” Jamie said. “For dinner. I’ll pick you up at your house.”

“Alright,” you said. “Umm… Goodbye, my God.” 

“Goodbye, my lamb,” Jamie said, and you felt his steely blue gaze on you as you turned and made quick time to your car, sliding into the backseat. 

“So,” your mother said slowly as you slammed the car door shut. “You and Father James…” 

“He said he could see me struggling with my faith,” you lied quickly, your neck burning with the marks he gave you. If you craned your head and looked at yourself in the rearview mirror, you could even see the red patches that would bloom to purple overnight. “And he helped me pray.” 

“And what else?” 

You swallowed thickly. “He asked me to dinner,” you said carefully. 

“Did he?” your mother asked smoothly. “Anything other than that kiss?”

“I-I didn’t ask for him to,” you said quickly. “He just… Did. And he apologized for it.” 

“Are you still going to dinner with him?” your mother asked, and you nodded quickly. “Be careful. Father James might be a holy man, but he’s still just a man. I just don’t want you to get hurt.” 

“I won’t get hurt,” you said. “Not so long as I have him by my side.”

[daydreamingmia]

Walker Scobell X Reader I Series | You Belong With Me 🔱 Part 24

A WHOLE LAND?! 🌊🏰 Part 3 🩵

You were hiding backstage. The plan is to have Uncle Rick cut the ribbon to the land then you, Walker, Dior, Aryan and Charlie are gonna hide in the rides. You'll pose as animatronics then start talking and everyone is gonna freak out!

"Attention all guests! When you entered the park today you were handed a scavenger hunt map. It is now time to use it! Follow the blue arrows to find the lightning bolt- I mean treasure." You hear the announcer say

—

It was about 20 minutes later...

There was a huge crowd outside of the entrance. One of the cast members was live-streaming it so you guys could see.

Uncle Rick walks into front of the entrance and you can see the crowd processing what they are seeing. They must've figured it out because suddenly the screaming was so loud it almost hurt your ears.

"Thank you! You know when I wrote this book I didn't think it would become what it is today. With an amazing cast and crew my idea was brought to life...not only on pages but on the screen. I would like to thank each and everyone one of you for all of your support. As a token of my appreciation I hereby open this new land for all of you halfbloods." He says as he grabs a huge pair of scirrors and cuts a ribbon which causes the curtain to fall.

"Camp halfblood is now open!" He exclaims as as the crowd runs inside

You look at Walker and smile

"Ready to brave the storm my seaweed brain?" you say as he smiles back at you

"Are you ready wise girl?" He smirks as he kisses you

The two of you hold hands and take the underground tunnels to the ride.

First ride opening is the Tunnel o love

There were cameras placed around the rides because Disneyland is gonna post the videos later

You sit in the boat where the animatronics usually are

"So like should we move weird and try to look like we are animatronics?" Walker asks

"Omg yes! I love that!" You squeal

"The first boat is coming" you hear someone say on the walkie talkie (haha Walkie has a walkie talkie...yes i have the sense of humor of a 5 year old😂)

You see the guests float in...wow the first guests on this ride EVER!

"I think I've seen this before...maybe in an orthodontist's office?" Walker says movie like an animatronic

When they see the two of you they scream...VERY LOUDLY

"Walker is so cute! Even as a robot" one of the many girls blush

"Hey! He's taken!" You jokingly yell

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!! I LOVE YOU BOTH SO MUCH!!" She squeals

"We love you too" you smile back at her

"Enjoying the ride?" Walker asks

"YES!! OMG ITS AMAZING!!" Another girl gasps

"I'm glad you like it" you smile

2nd guest

"Omg they look so real!" A little girl says

"Would you like a picture angel?" You smile and look at her as she just stares

"Hi" you smile and wave

3rd guest

Nobody was talking just taking pictures

"HEY NO FLASH DUDE!!" Walker yells at the guy and he almost tips the boat from jumping

He had a really nice camera so he was probably a content creator

4th guest (you are now in the golden chair room)

You stand with Walker and decided to look romantically into each other's eyes

"Awww that's so sweet" someone says

"I'm sorry" you whisper to Walker

You shove him into the water (don't worry there is a hug gap between the boat and where you pushed him...like 50 feet)

You just start laughing at him as everyone just looks at you shocked

"Oh no! Now I gotta kill the witnesses too" you say with a mischievous smile as you walk towards them

5th guest

You hug Walker and look at him

He kisses you and the crowd gasps

"What? You've never seen true love's kiss before?" Walker yells as the crowd screams

6th guest

You and Walker now have lightsabers...why? Because I said so!🫵🏻

Walker was standing in the golden chair and you on the floor

"It's over Annabeth! I have the high ground!" Walker yells

You can't see behind you but you can hear squeals and see the flashes of people's phones

"You underestimate my power!" You scream back

You turn around and lunge at the boat. Just missing them you land in the water.

7th

"Avada Kedevra" you yell at Walker and point your wand-less hand at him

"That's the wrong franchise stupid girl" he rolls his eyes

"Oops" you shrug and draw a sword and point it at Walker

"Is this better?" You turn and ask the guests

8th

"You know what Percy?! I'm tired of your impertinence!" You yell at him as you draw a sword and "stab" him

A girl in the boat cries out nooooooooo!!

"What? You wanna be next?" You threaten

9th

Walker got a vest and a line attacked to him

"We will never win Annabeth!" He yells

"I find your lack of faith disturbing" you smirk as you "force choke" him

He lifts in the air as you look at the boat

Everyone is just looking at you unimpressed

"Kids today...they just don't get scared like they used to" you roll your eyes

10th

You and Walker put on Luke's shoes

They had little wings that move and everything

You were both tethered now

When the boat comes in you hear people say

"Why is there nothing in this room?"

"Percy what did you do to these shoes and why are they mad at you?!" You lectured as you descend from the roof

"I don't know" he rolls his eyes

You go flying towards the boat and just start "flying" around the room

—

It was now time to play capture the flag. This show was gonna happen like 3 times a day in this land.

"You're going down kid" Dior (in character) says

"Big mouth for a girl who was defeated by a 12 year old" you smirk

The game starts!

Everyone didn't have time to choreograph a fake fight for the guests to watch so...you guys are kind of just winging it

Let's hope nobody dies🫣

"Where's your water power kelp face?" Dior taunts

"Where's your broken stick thingy?" Walker replies

Dior does her iconic scream ABCs runs towards Walker as he grabs you and uses you as a shield

"Walk-PERCY WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" You scream at him

"Uhhh nothing" he says dropping you

Honestly because this fight isn't choreographed it hasn't been very epic🫣

You could probably take down everyone because of all your training for marvel and stuff but you don't wanna hurt anyone😔

Suddenly you get an idea 💡

You look at Dior and give her a look. Somehow she got it

Dior helped you train for your fight scenes. For almost everything you've been in since you've known her. You can make this fight look real!

Dior swings her sword at you and your duck backwards

You're seeing your sword back and she blocks it with her shield and hits you in the face with her shield

You stumble back

"What's the matter? Is your bark bigger than your bite?" She mocks

"It certainly isn't as big as your ego" you reply as you leg sweep her

"You see I know when I can win a fight and I know when I can't. Unfortunately for you...you keep picking fights with kids younger than you who keep beating you." You taunt back

She grumbles as you help her up

The siren goes off because you won capture the flag 😜

—

"Our very own Percy Jackson cast will be answering questions! Welcome to the stage Walker Scobell! Y/F/N! Y/L/N! Aryan Simhadri! Dior Goodjohn! And Charlie Bushnell!" He announced as all of you Walker on stage and sat down

Weirdly there was an extra seat with a cover on it

"What was it like to fall in love with Walker on set?" A cute like 7 year old said in a really sweet way

The crowd just went "awwwwwhhhhh"

"It was like a book. Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected to fall in love so young. Let alone fall in love with my true love in a show that we are together" you answer

"Have you started filming yet?" Another asked

"Well we haven't started filming yet but we have started rehearsals in Canada" Walker answered

"So you flew here from Canada?" Another girl asked

"Yes we did" you smile

"Do you have a favorite character?" Another asked

"Well I'm a little biased I gotta say Annabeth" you reply

"Well I'm pretty awesome. But the nails digging into my arm tells me I gotta say annabeth too" Walker jokes

"I guess you're a wise boy now" you wink at him

"Do you know who will be joining the cast next season?" A boy asks

"No not yet" Aryan replies

"What was the first time someone recognized you?" A girl dressed as Annabeth asks

"Like from Percy Jackson or like ever?" Dior asks

"Ever" she replied

"I was at a grocery store and I was really confused because I thought I knew the guy but I didn't" Aryan laughed

"I think I was out with my sister and a few girls were pointing at me and one screamed look y/n's boyfriend!" Walker jokes

"I was actually at universal studios...Disney please don't kill me! But yeah I was at universal studios and my mom and sister were in the line with me and a little girl...I think she was like 5? And she ran up to me and just wrapped me in a hug and it just melted me " you smile

"I was-" Dior gets interpreted

"I am interrupting with Q&A with a special guest with exciting news! Ladies and gentleman Rick Riordan!" The guy announced as the crowd went wild

Uncle Rick joined you on stage with a mic in hand

"Thank you! Thank you! I am pleased to have a little surprise for you all." Uncle Rick smiled

"So nobody knows the new cast members of Percy Jackson are...not even our Walker or y/n NOBODY. I am thrilled to announce one of the most exciting characters for this season. Ladies and gentlemen our very own Thalia will be played by the very talented and creative young lady Leah Sava Jeffries!" He exclaimed as the crown goes absolutely insane

A girl around your height and age walks on stage and joins you

"Hello I'm Leah and I just wanna say I'm so honored that to be chosen for this role. I love Percy Jackson so much! I'm trying really hard not to fan girl up here! I've actually never met y/n or Walker or any of you and I just wanna say I'm a HUGE fan of all of you! This is truly a dream come true and I can't thank you enough" she says as she turns and walks over to the 5 of you

"I seriously love your music and your movies so much! Your last album is literally am I listen to now!" Leah says as you hug her

"Awww thank you so much! I'm so excited to get to know you! I just know we are going to be best friends!" You smile

"Young Mr. Deadpool" Leah salutes Walker

"He wishes" you laugh

"I am young Deadpool!" Walker whines

"In your dreams kid" you reply

Leah hugs everyone and uncle Rick uncovers the chair that says Thalia

—

You all go back to your hotel room

You and Dior pull Leah into your room and close the door

"Okay so I think you should know what's about to go down" you giggle

"Ooooo!! What?" Leah asks

"I'm gonna pull a prank on Walker. So we are all gonna be hanging out in the living room watching a movie. about an hour I'm gonna come out of my room screaming saying THEY'RE HERE! THEY'RE HERE!! GRAB EVERYTHING AND GO!! I'm gonna put my phone and Dior's phone to record his reaction. Now I'm hoping he will PANIC...I know I'm mean but he's mean too. You'll get used to us trust me Leah. But I thought we should tell you so you don't freak out. I promise nobody is after us okay?" You smile

"Omg that's so funny! Wait...does anyone else know besides the three of us?" Leah asks

"Nope" Dior replies mischievously

"Alright I'm ready" Leah salutes

"Oh and one more thing...can I trust you to be on my team? I need you against Walker with me constantly!" You giggle

"Duh!" She replies

"I thought so" you smile and hug her

—

You were in your room getting ready for bed

Everyone was still in the living room

"Alright. Time for chaos" you say to yourself

"WALKER!!" You scream as you open the door and he jumps up

"What wrong?!" He asks worriedly

"GRAB EVERYTHING! THEY'RE HERE! THERE'S NO TIME!! HURRY!! GRAB EVERYTHING!!" You scream and just start running around grabbing random stuff

"NOOOOOO!!! THEY'RE HERE?!" Dior jumps up and stars grabbing stuff too

"OMG WE HAVE NO TIME!!" Leah joins in

You smile subtly when you see Walker, Aryan and Charlie starting to run around after the 3 of you

"Who's here?" Aryan asks frantically

"THEY ARE HERE!! THERES NO TIME!!" You scream at him

"Honey who's here?!" Walker says stopping you

"WE HAVE TO RUN!" Leah says grabbing your hand and pulling you away from Walker before he could see it in your face

You turn and see Charlie holding a toothbrush, a seat cushion, a blanket, and

Aryan was holding the remote for the tv, his phone, a hair brush, a bowl of fruit and an almost empty glass of water

"Okay?!" Walker says as he frantically runs to his room

He immediately runs out with a picture in his hand and a suit case

"You never unpacked?!" You ask him

"No but it's handy now isn't it?" He shrugs

He then runs off to the kitchen and throws the refrigerator door open and grabs a bunch of food

You look at Dior and she's holding a curling iron, her computer and her guitar

Leah is just holding a frying pan #repunzelisaqueen

"THERE IS NO TIME FOR FOOD!!" You yell at him

"IM SORRY WHAT?! THERE IS NO TIME FOR FOOD?! WHO IS COMING?! ARE WE DYING?!" He asks shocked

"WE HAVE NO TIME FOR QUESTIONS!!" You yell at him again

You watch as he grabs a lamp, a broom, a tv, a chair...honestly I don't know hold he's carrying so much so don't ask😁👍

You can't help but start laughing

"What?" Walker asks grabbing a bag of cookies in his mouth

You fall on the floor from laughing and Dior and Leah join you

"What are they laughing at?" Aryan asks

"I don't know" Walker replies

"Bro why are you holding a tv and one chair?" Charlie asks

"I didn't wanna get bored" Walker shrugged

"Should we be scared why they are all suddenly dying of laughter?" Walker asks

"Probably" Aryan says

"Wait what about running? What about the people who are coming?!" Walker asks

"There's nobody coming" you can barely get out from laughing

"WHAT?!" Walker says as he, Aryan and Charlie all drop everything they're holding at the same exact time

"This was all fake" Dior laughs

"You've already got Leah's brain corrupted by your idiocy" walker rolls his eyes

"Girl power baby" Leah smiles

"Who did you think was after us?" You ask

"I don't know maybe you annoyed somebody and they wanted revenge" walker says as he helps you up off of the floor

"I will get revenge. When you least expect it. When you forget that we are dueling. I will win" he says mischievously

"Oh I'm so scared" you mock

"You should be" he replies

A/n: SURPRISE!! LEAH HAS JOINED THIS STORY!! Was that a good surprise or what?😜

I'm so sorry the chapter got delayed!! I am REALLY REALLY sick! IM SOOO SOO SORRY!!

(Also if there are mistakes I'm sorry😭)

I've been planing this surprise for like two weeks now and I was so sad when I couldn't write it for a while.

Sorry the prank was a little goofy! I saw it on instagram and I thought it would be a fun way of saying Leah is already on your team hehe

I HOPE YOU ALL LIKED THIS CHAPTER!! If you did please vote, comment and follow!! I LOVE YOU ALL SOOOOOOO MUCH!!🫂💞💜💗💕💓💘💝💟🩷

Tags

@mireyaaaaaa @noahkahansorangejuice

@yeeteddemigod @walker-scobell-obsessed @callsignwidow @froggyflower264

@owlscanread25

[leezlelatch]

omg i didn’t mean to send that huge sick little freak thought in as anon, i totally thought i sent it as myself lol. your additional thoughts made me SWOON!! especially about terzo’s hair and face, absolutely beautiful!

i’m pleasantly surprised people are so receptive about the papas aging, especially with the stigma around just getting old in general lol. i just love me an old man who respects women

but i think it’s just so hot, just imagining all of them gracefully coming into their own, all of the signs of a well lived and happy life, whether it be getting a bit of a saggier neck, more of a hooked nose, or thinner lips. i just want to give them all a little kiss on their sweet little foreheads and then maybe wreck them in bed, y’know?

I think…

Now this might be a hot take. Might be CONTROVERSIAL.

But like I notice a lot of the time that saying you want to fuck the old man and putting it into practice or are like two different things because there is somewhat of a de-aging that happens with these men. Some of those harsher features or aspects of their age are just like…erased.

In 2013, Secondo was fifty years old according to an article that came out interviewing a Nameless Ghoul. So in 2018 on the infamous Uno night, he would have been 55. So let’s shoot forward today and you have him and Terzo sitting at a good 61. That makes Copia a good 7 years younger.

That comes with changes. They’re getting older. Their bodies are changing. They might not be as virile as they once were. And I think it’s important to write that into fic, my fic especially, because there is SUCH a large age gap. I won’t pretend and say I don’t write with my age (29) in mind. There are so many different insecurities that could arise there, and I don’t want to erase the aging for the sake of making the relationship “look” better. They deserve to be loved with every wrinkle on their face and sag in their skin. They deserve to feel secure in taking any kind of supplement because how GREAT is modern medicine that they can do so? And on the other hand, it’s exciting to explore new ways of intimacy. Old doesn’t mean bad or ugly.

I’ll give ‘em the ol’ HAWK TUAH.

[badaziraphaletakes]

In which some poor innocent unsuspecting reader submitted an ask and I respond by throwing an entire textbook at them

Like seriously i won’t even be upset if no one reads this PhD dissertation, like actually what is wrong with me omg

The ask:

I want to start by saying I love this account and really appreciate the rebuttals I see here to some of the messed up stuff the fandom’s spit out over the past few years. That being said, the most recent post about “the creepiest take you’ve ever seen,” was one I disagreed with strongly. It’s entirely normal to enjoy watching media where characters have breakdowns. It is not a desire to see a person breakdown. It is a desire to watch a good story.

(Edit: Just realized I somehow omitted to include the full text of the ask here. I apologize for the error! Will fix it soon. -Mod X)

My response:

Hi and thank you for your kind words! (Also idk why there is this huge gap in the text here, sorry haha!) If it were a necessary part of the story, or a part of the story that made sense, I would agree. But it’s not necessary (esp not at this point in the story) and therefore wouldn’t be “good”, if we are defining good art as being emotional truthful, which I imagine is a pretty uncontroversial definition.

Side note: We already saw him have this exact shattering breakdown in Uz. So that renders most of what I am about to say (and arguably some of what you have said) somewhat moot. But I’m going to continue anyway because some of the points brought up here touch on issues that I think bear re-visiting often.

It’s cathartic, it’s engaging, and it helps people who’ve been through the same thing see themselves reflected. For example, I like watching someone on tv hit rock bottom with their addiction because I’ve been through that, and seeing them finally realize they have to work on recovery and actually do it is motivating and empowering.

I’m so sorry you’ve been through that. I haven’t (although I am estranged from an entire side of my family due to alcoholism and meth addiction, which is a whole fun thing), so I can’t comment on this too much.

But addiction is not the same as an ab*sive relationship. (I do have knowledge of those, both from life experience and from my previous job in ab*se research. I edited a newsletter about family violence research for several years.) Seeing a person suffering from addiction realize they want to work on recovery, and realize that the substance they are addicted to is messing up their life, can make sense. Especially if they're in a place where they're able to work on it and have the opportunity to try to change.

But seeing an ab*se survivor “realize they need to get away from their ab*ser because they’re evil and have a breakdown about it” doesn’t make sense, because being trapped in an absive situation is not about “motivation” or what they think about the abser or even, really, about "empowerment". (Side note that word is thrown a lot to delude women into thinking our capitalist system is working for us rather than oppressing us. But I digress.) It boils down to the fact that they are in danger if they leave. The situation is not within their control.

(This next part is not directed at you, but at the general readership, in case this is helpful discussion for anyone: A lot of addictions aren’t within people's control at all either. It depends very much on the drug we’re talking about, the health of the individual, the quantity and duration of the addiction, whether the person has access to the healthcare they need to be cured, and whether there’s a way for them to get free from the broader societal dysfunctions that led to them being trapped in this situation in the first place.)

Also, with addiction, people can absolutely get past that without losing their sense of self and their identity. If they go through that kind of crisis in the process of healing from addiction, I would argue that something is very wrong. (Not with them, but with the society around them). In a best-case scenario, a person suffering from addiction would have access to the kind of mental and physical healthcare and support system that lets you get free from that without a shattering breakdown or loss of sense of self.

Besides, not everyone who has an addiction has toxic beliefs about themselves or their own identity or other people, etc etc. (Babies who are born addicted come to mind, if we want to talk about the most extreme example.) So I find the idea that addiction is down to toxic beliefs about one's self very suspect. I would argue that 95% of the time, addiction happens because your life sucks. The mental health community is starting to have this conversation about depression and anxiety - Cognitive Behavioral Therapy to work on one's "limiting beliefs" and "destructive thought patterns" can only do so much to help you feel better when your whole life is shit anyway. And it can actually make it WORSE if the victim is made to believe that their depression is the fault of their "Faulty thoughts" rather than a reasonable reaction to a shitty situation. Not necessarily saying we should throw CBT out the window altogether, but I am saying that mental healthcare will be a LOT more effective when it learns to truly take the broader societal context into account. I suspect, I hope, we'll soon be having a simialr conversation around addiction.)

And that’s doubly the case for ab*se survivors. They’re not stuck in that situation because there’s something wrong with them that they need to fix. They’re stuck in that situation because there’s something wrong with the ab*ser.

Regardless of the victim’s personal worth as an individual, regardless of whether they’re a good person or what-have-you, they don’t deserve to be ab*sed.

(I'm just waiting to hear about how some therapist tells a victim to work on their "limiting belief" that they need to stay with their ab*ser in order not to be killed, and/or tells them that fearing their ab*ser will kill them is a "cognitive distortion", and tells them to stand up to their ab*ser and/or leave, and then the ab*ser kills them. But I digress.)

And the loss of self when separating from a toxic system that’s defined your whole life is a real thing some people go through. It’s not bad consider that Aziraphale could also go through that, or to want to see that experience reflected.

I want to be very clear that I don’t have the smallest objection to people wanting to see that in a show. But a. that’s not what the person was saying, and b. they were also saying it’s necessary. IT’S NOT. I can’t emphasize this enough.

Loss of self is the worst-case scenario for how something like that goes. Nothing good comes from that. That is a side effect of ab*se (because the ab*ser’s the one who says that “Everything you are is bound up in me and you’re nothing with me"), not an integral part of the process of getting away.

Trauma is not necessary for character growth.

The way these things should go is that the person is able to gradually and mindfully work through the beliefs that are poisoning them with the help of a therapist, trusted friends, etc.

I know what I’m talking about. I worked in trauma research for over seven years. Please trust me on this one.

And again, Aziraphale can’t “separate” from them anyway. There’s nowhere he can go where they won’t find him. So his beliefs are irrelevant to his situation. And if the show implies that his beliefs “need to change” as part of the earth being set free from heaven-hell’s tyranny, or that he “needs to change” in order to be free, I will be writing a strongly-worded letter to the creators.

But more importantly, *they didn’t just say giddy.* They also said apprehensive. Perhaps they’re apprehensive because they know it could be painful to watch. Or because they don’t want to see it handled poorly.

“Giddily apprehensive” sounds an awful lot like “excited” to me. I admit it is ambiguous, though, so I’ll give you that one. I maintain that the OP expressed themselves with an exceptional lack of grace, however. And fwiw, they’d be FAR from the first person to want to see Aziraphale suffer because they are mad at him. I think I have good reason to believe that's what they're getting at here, given how many people in the poster's orbit say the same kinds of things and how many other things I've seen the OP say that are along those lines. I acknowledge I should have made that clearer in my original post.

They aren’t giving this advice (if one could call it that) to a human. They’re saying they’re excited to see a character breakdown. Character arcs like that are common and enticing for good reason.

I have yet to see a reason why I should believe that the things people say about Aziraphale are different than the things they say about people in real life.

I would point you to a couple lines down where you say yourself that we respond to characters the same way we respond to real people.

Personal growth ≠ character growth.

But what makes a good character is that they act like real people.

As an audience, character growth (even negative) is engaging.

Yes, absolutely. But we can absolutely do character growth in a way that does not spread harmful mindsets or misinformation about what ab*se and recovery from ab*se looks like. In fact, I would argue that character growth can’t happen if the writer doesn’t write the characters to behave in a way that is realistic to real life.

Characters follow the same rules, though. We respond to characters the same way we respond to real people. The same general rules of personal development and so forth apply.

The idea that “Aziraphale realizes his ab*sers are terrible” is something he needs to do for his “personal development” is highly objectionable. He doesn’t need to grow in this area. He just needs his ab*sers to leave him alone. Side note: We should give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he already does think they’re terrible and only stays with them because he is terrified. Even if this hadn’t been strongly and frequently hinted at in every episode going all the way back to S1E1 - almost every scene, in fact - we should still give him the benefit of the doubt.

Also, even if we say, for the sake of argument, that Aziraphale was a terrible, awful, horrible person - I know you’re not saying that, to be clear - even then, he still wouldn’t “need to realize his ab*sers are terrible” or “have a complete breakdown” or “lose himself” in order to grow. That's not how growth works. The best growth happens when people are at peace and safe and loved. Not frightened and confused and alone. He never chose them in the first place, he never wanted to be on their side. If he were left alone, he would just spend the rest of eternity reading his books and eating Eccles cakes and snuggling with his former-demon. That’s who he really is. There’s nothing about him as a person that needs to change. I agree a story where a person loses their sense of self after escaping from an ab*sive system would be interesting to watch, but I maintain that it does not make sense for the context of this particular story. And, such a story would NEED to make clear that the person wasn’t bad or wrong for deriving some part of their sense of self from the ab*ser and that they shouldn’t have had to have a catastrophic breakdown in order to develop their own sense of self. No one should have to go through that.

It’s not the same thing as asking for personal growth from a real human being.

Good characters do not operate according to different emotional and psychological rules than we do, though. If they didn't, we wouldn’t have millions of people sobbing about how real Aziraphale and Crowley feel to them. We would be the biggest dodos in the world if we were reacting this way to paper dolls 😄

Comparing the desire to see a character go through a dramatic storyline like that (and to come out of it strong and shining) to fundamentalist rhetoric is… just total bullshit.

You said this blog has been a good place for you and I want it to continue to be that way for you. So I want to give you a chance to revisit this part and see if you can say something more constructive. Because I've gotta admit, this really made me upset and I can't let it go without saying something. It’s not cool to call someone’s commentary “bullsh*t” like this.

I heard the line “we must die to ourselves” many, many times from the high-control religion of my childhood. It is a classic cult line. Hence why so many cults have "burial and rebirth" rituals, make people change their names, etc.

I am not just making up a comparison. This is a real phenomenon. Controlling ab*sers are the ones who’ve given us this idea that “death of the self” is character growth. It’s not. Character growth happens in spite of those excruciating emotional crises, not because of them.

Growing as a person is supposed to feel good overall. Not always easy, but on the whole, it should be a positive experience.

Also - Again, they said he “needs” to do it.

And they didn’t say anything about Aziraphale “coming out strong and shining”. You added that in. I think it's wonderful that you want to see that for him (so do I) but that’s not what this person was saying

If they'd said that, I wouldn't object to it at all. But they didn't. That part was left out. Which I think may be very telling in itself.

There are a myriad of reasons someone could have that desire, including having gone through something similar themselves.

Having gone through something similar doesn’t necessarily mean it makes sense for another character. It also doesn’t mean it’s necessary. And having been through something that went a certain way does NOT mean that it happening that way makes sense for someone else.

Deconstruction from a religious upbringing is different from leaving an ab*sive relationship

Aziraphale doesn’t have religious trauma. (I’m not going to talk much about religious trauma and deconstruction here, because it’s outside the scope of this blog, largely because - as attested by no less an authority than Neil Himself - Good Omens is not about religion. But I’ll say a little bit.)

Heaven and hell are not a “religion” in his world - they’re real. His fear of hell (and of heaven) is absolutely, one hundred percent, completely legitimate and appropriate, and NOT something he should be “reasoned” out of. Saying otherwise gives “your ab*ser isn’t actually that evil and scary”. But regardless, in either scenario, that kind of traumatic personal crisis is not a necessary part of the healing process. My heart aches for all the people whose deconstruction process was emotionally shattering. But what makes it ache even more is how for so many of them, the takeaway is somehow that that kind of crisis is necessary - rather than "dear god, i hope no one else ever has to go through that kind of hideous experience to get away from their shitty religion", which surely is what the takeaway should be (assuming there even is a lesson to be learned at all from an experience like that, which is doubtful) - and they go on to demand it of other survivors and gatekeep against people who haven't gone through the exact same thing they did in the process of getting away.

How, HOW did we get to a point where so many people’s deconstruction is a fucked-up, scarring experience that we think it’s inevitable for deconstruction to be that way????? I grieve.

I know the idea of killing one’s old self is inherently wrong to many people.

It’s not about whether it’s *wrong*. If that's valid for someone and they get where they need to be - you do you. It’s about the fact that it’s painful and it’s unnecessary to the process of growth.

Furthermore, it is the kind of thing ab*sers WANT to see happen to their victims when they leave. They want victims to think that they have to have that kind of crisis if they want to leave them. Because then they’re less likely to leave. When we encourage that kind of thinking, we are playing directly into their hands.

What should happen is that the victim should be given the opportunity to realize that all along there was much more to them than their ab*ser.

I don’t personally desire to watch Aziraphale do that, especially because there are so many wonderful aspects of the Angel he’s been since the beginning

Agreed.

But fwiw, this is giving a faint whiff of perfect victim syndrome. Even if he were an asshole, he still deserves to just have his ab*sers leave him alone, not to have some kind of shattering, soul-crushing emotional breakdown. They will always, always be worse than him.

but it’s not wrong to want to see that. People do go through it, and their stories are incredibly compelling.

I don’t disagree. For me it’s rather about the place this is coming from. OP was saying it’s necessary. There’s a difference between wanting to see a show address this issue overall because it’s interesting, and demanding that a specific character go through it because you think it’s necessary, or that their process of leaving and healing won't be legitimate (or whatever word we wanna use) if it doesn't happen.

And, as you said, it doesn’t make sense for Aziraphale. If the character is an asshole, I’d be able to see it a little more (although again, I still very much question the entire idea in the first place) But he's not an asshole. I find anyone’s thinking it “makes sense” for him to be highly questionable.

I know Aziraphale is much more than a character to many people

Speaking as a (very, very, very slightly, lol) professional writer and actor - every character should be “more than a character”, if they’re well-written. They should feel real if the writer and/or actor has done their job well. I like NG's line that "If you write someone who is utterly and completely themselves, you get people coming up to you and going 'Oh my God, you wrote my life!'

a desire to watch him go through a psychological breakdown is not some poorly concealed desire to watch real people go through that.

It may or may not be. I agree that it isn't always.

In this person’s case, though, I very much did get concerning vibes. Poorly concealed. (As an ab*se survivor, you start to know the vibe of victim-blamers after awhile.)

Regardless, though, the way we respond to characters is the way we respond to people in real life. Story is a primary vehicle through which people learn how to interact with one another and their environment. If it wasn’t, discussing media along these lines would be pointless, and I'd just spend all my time talking about how good David Tennant looks in those tight pants 😁 Or, probably, I would take up a different hobby altogether.

I wouldn’t have wasted my time starting this blog if the things people say about this story and especially about Aziraphale didn’t have real-world applications (not to mention making a lot of ab*se survivors feel very unsafe in the fandom - before we turned off anonymous asks, I got an average of two messages a day from ab*se survivors and other oppressed people telling them how this blog has made them feel so much safer in the fandom) - and if their views about the characters didn’t mirror the kinds of things they’d say about people in real life. (All the anti-Aziraphale autiphobic takes come to mind.) I flatter myself I have enough judgment that those takes wouldn't have troubled me so deeply if they weren't reflective of real-world societal problems and indicative of problematic attitudes in the people who write them.

In this case, the wording is identical to the kinds of problematic things people say about real-life victims/survivors. Yes, the person may not actually consciously want (or want at all) to see real-life ab*se victims/survivors suffer. But I absolutely, one hundred per cent guarantee you that anyone saying this has some major problematic biases/assumptions that are contributing to how ab*se survivors are maligned, degraded, and oppressed in our society. (I never want to see Disabled people suffer, but if I say ableist things, I’m contributing to it whether I mean to or not. I may not want to see women suffer, I am a woman, well more or less anyway lol, and I've identified as a feminist my entire adult life, but nevertheless there have certainly been times in the past when I've said sexist things. It's something all of us will always have to be vigilant against in ourselves. I suspect at this point I'm preaching to the choir, because you do not strike me at all as a bigoted or ignorant person, but I figured I'd re-iterate all that again anyway, because screaming it through a megaphone as often as possible is what this blog is for lol. :)

And what’s worse, they are spreading that rhetoric. I’ll be damned if I’ll let it go by without saying something.

Hope this makes sense and cleared some things up.

With love and respect,

Mod X.

[evansbby]

YESSS!! the whole immaturity thing is so trueee. i dated this 38 year old when i was like 18/19, and in every argument he had to bring up the fact that i’m younger than him. i remember once this woman was flirting with him and i got angry and he said that she was an old friend and that ‘I don’t understand because i’m too young’ like what??😭 then why are you with me if i’m too young wtf. and there r so many instances where i just didn’t know if it his behaviour was normal but then he’d say that i’m inexperienced and should just trust him and what not. (he wanted me to move in with him 5 months into dating so he’d have “easier access” to me😭😭). PLUS HE HAD 3 KIDS LIKE WTH AM I GONNA DO TAKE CARE OF THEM??? he definitely clung onto the fact i have daddy issues bc he would use that against me so many times 💀💀

i met him when i worked as a barista, i was freshly 18 as well. like seriously there were so many red flags i ignored, idk why😭 he was love bombing the fuck out of me, and then when we’d have a argument he’d use that against me and say “i did all of this for you and this how you repay me, thank you so much” THIS MANIPULATION AT ITS FINESTTT. and i would feel so bad as well 💀

so…dilfs are better left as a fantasy 👎🏼👎🏼

😭😭😭😭

I feel lowkey bad for all the teenage girls out there who went through the canon event of dating a 40 year old manchild. Like that man should’ve known better bc why is he dating someone THAT much younger than him? Other than to manipulate her bc she is more naive than the women his age who know better.

And I agree with you, the dilf fantasy is just a fantasy. Most of the time. Bc look, I grew up reading dilf fanfics from like the age of 12/13. I was reading huge age gap fics and I was like “omg yes, I need an older man! They are more mature and better etc” then I grew up and realised there’s a reason I was/am so attracted to dilfs from the fanfics — bc they were WRITTEN BY WOMEN. They are a woman’s fantasy that oftentimes is NOT a reality. In reality, the dilfs I met were always lowkey creepy bc like… why are you interested in a teenager bro!!!??? I could be your daughter!

I realised that just bc they’re older, doesn’t mean they aren’t immature. This isn’t always the case but most of the time it is. Now despite all this, if I met a dilf who acted exactly like he was written by a woman writing a fanfic, someone like SUGAR DADDY ARI LEVINSON, then yes I would marry him in a heartbeat idec he could be 50 lol.

[horsetailcurlers2]

hi hello! sorry this is extremely random but you literally have the best analysis! a friend and i were talking about derek shepherd and the way his trauma affected him throughout his life. something along the lines of how his trauma compares to amelia. he tries to save everyone (falling in love with broken women) and how amelia destroys herself. and i was wondering if you had any thoughts about that? :)

hi! and omg thank you that’s very nice considering i feel like most of my analyses are just me word vomiting incoherently in an empty room and scratching at the walls lmao.

okay i will try to do my best here but i don’t know how much sense this will make or if i have anything new or interesting to say. i don’t really consider myself a derek expert (NOT that i consider myself an addison expert or anything but i do spend considerably more time thinking about her than i do about him). but YES you’re so right

something that i think is interesting is that we get a lot more direct focus on amelia’s trauma than we do derek’s. maybe that’s just the byproduct of her struggle with addiction or maybe it’s because private practice was often a lot more character focused than grey’s. i also think, at the risk of sounding uncharitable towards meredith (whom i adore with all my heart) that a lot of times on the show, his issues take a backseat to hers- although that may also just be a deliberate choice on his part or because its her fucking show lol. but  i find it interesting that he is vulnerable about her but rarely ever vulnerable with her.

i find the shepherd family dynamic endlessly fascinating and i especially think a lot about the idea of derek and amelia being the two out of the flock that were so directly impacted by their father's death. the math on grey’s is sloppy at best but it’s stated a few times that amelia was five years old. i think derek may have said he was eleven but that gets contradicted so i always just placed him between eleven and thirteen.

before i get into derek specifically i want to talk about amelia bc i love your point about the comparison/contrast of them in the wake of that shared trauma. i think that honestly the driving factor for her addiction wasn’t necessary the shooting itself, but the aftermath. amelia shepherd really pokes at my Little Sister Syndrome and i think her conversation with carolyn after the fake husband dinner was especially telling. amelia frequently describes her mom as “the best/great” (addison describes carolyn as a great mom too iirc) but after christopher’s death, carolyn was not as attentive to amelia as she was to her other children. that combined with amelia being the youngest with such a large age gap makes me think she had a pretty isolated childhood. there was a sort of disconnect from her siblings who were much older, her mother was changed by grief, and her father was gone. for a huge chunk of her adolescence, most of amelia’s family was already moved out of the house. not that i don't think the shooting itself or the trauma of losing her father had a big impact on her but i think a lot of her issues stem from feeling abandoned by the rest of her family. i think her addiction resurfaces when she feels most alone/abandoned. i think that a part of her is trying to avoid feeling the depth of her loneliness and a part of her is trying to be loud and take up space a) so that the people in her life will notice her b) like she couldn’t that day in the store with derek’s hand over her mouth. 

derek on the other hand, was old enough to be cognizant and understanding of what was happening that day in the store. he 100% felt a responsibility to protect his little sister and i also think he felt extremely powerless that he couldn’t save his father. obviously derek has a bit of a god complex but he also does have a savior complex. 

he protected amelia by keeping her quiet. i think that’s actually a big part of it (for both of them). also idk how to articulate this well and i’m no psychologist but derek only likes his women broken to a certain extent. i think he likes to be needed but he doesn't want them to be needy. he doesn't like when it’s not something he can fix with some immediacy (the powerlessness again) and his discomfort with being unable to fix it makes him lash out and withdraw. he liked saving meredith, until her trauma deeply affected how she behaved in the relationship. he liked (and this part is 80% assumption and conjecture from my addek brain) being able to soothe the wounds from addison’s childhood (her loneliness and feelings of inadequacy) until her “neediness” started to feel cloying and almost accusatory. 

so imo derek likes to save people, until they are too difficult to save. it's established that he is VERY black and white, which is why he thrives in brain surgery which has finite rules and steps he can follow in order to save people’s lives and bring relief to their families. he's good at surgery. its where he turns when he's feeling lost in his personal life. the guy clearly has some control issues. conversely, when things are going poorly at work (i.e jen harmon), he doubts EVERYTHING about himself and his choices bc the one thing he can always control is destabilized. 

i think that derek gets angry when he feels guilty which ties back to him lashing out and withdrawing when he can't fix something/someone. I think this is a huge component of his tension with amelia. he is extremely judgmental of her struggles with addiction, and he (like their other siblings) has trouble separating Adult Amelia from Teen Amelia. maybe a part of him has always felt like her addiction was his fault. like, if he had shielded her better, she would have less pain (which isn't true). so while on the surface, it seems like maybe he is just harsh on her because he is tired of her shit and still angry about the chaos she caused before she went to rehab the first time, a lot of it i think is actually resentment/anger because he feels guilty (and again, anger/moodiness is how derek reacts to guilt).

its an oversimplification, but i think what a lot of it boils down to is little preteen derek with his arms wrapped around his baby sister, holding his breath and needing to use both his hands to keep her still and quiet, and it has to do with her watching her father’s blood on the floor and being unable to scream. of course there's also the aftermath (amelia’s loneliness and how much grief she had to fit in such a small body, derek’s guilt, anger, and the horrible feeling that he's somehow now “the man of the house”)

idk this isn't well organized and certainly not as articulate as it could’ve been but god i do love thinking about the derek and amelia of it all. tysm for the ask. srry for the long-winded answer :)