#carnal

[caostalgia]

Tienes mi cuerpo, en carne y hueso, el cielo arriba y yo debajo, tengamos una pizca de lo divino.

• Serendipia

[pascalsbby]

CARNAL

Carnal Masterlist / Masterlist

Summary: 1.7K / dbf!joel, mention of eventual dark!joel, f!reader (everything you could ever want, just trust me <3)

Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, age gap (24/50s), female masturbation, joel masturbating, dominate & aggressive joel, cam girl, pet names (kitten, birdie, sweetheart, darlin’), praise kink, he talks you through it, talk of: ass play, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected p in v, sucking fingers, tit fucking, spit, edging, kinda stalker joel, pure filth.

Holy fuck this is filthy… just porn with a (surprising) plot.

“I never wanted a quiet, sensible sort of love. I wanted to be devoured.” - Beau Taplin

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“Oh kitten. You’re a fuckin’ slut, aren’t ya? I don’t think seein’ how I could ruin your three holes is enough swee’heart, I need more of you.” Both of his massive hands were squelching against his spit-covered cock, pumping up and falling heavily down onto his thick thighs, his knuckles tightening, squeezing out the spit and precum between his fingers as he gripped harder.

His breathing was turning almost whimper-like, your favorite. His deep Texas accent always presented itself when you got him worked up like this, right before he spurted thick white ropes across the computer screen, stomach hitching and cock visibly throbbing. “Oh fuck, oh fuc-k Birdie,” he would let out. Sometimes you were lucky enough to catch his asshole puckering as he emptied himself, if he was positioned just right in his office chair.

“What’s a big, bad man like you doing whimpering for me?” You cooed, smirking at the computer screen. He could see you, all of you, spread eagle for him, cunt glistening with thickening slick, turning whiter every time you brought your fingers in and out of your hole, every once in a while reaching deeper to wet your asshole. He always moaned when you did so. His moans were deep, guttural. What a dirty fucking perv.

But still, you wanted to see him, you imagined his mouth falling slightly open as he squeezed his eyes shut, fucking deeper into his hands, chest heaving.

You could tell by his build he was at least in his late 40’s, pushing away the thought that he was around the same age as your dad. Not married, obviously. No kids, or if so they were already out of the house.

Figures, as he was sat in front of his screen, ass-naked every Thursday night for the past three months. He found your profile on the cam website and has only touched himself to you and the filthy pictures you send him nearly every day, since. He says he likes the way your stomach looks soft, how when you turn around and spread for him your back rolls form ever so slightly, and how the two dimples on your lower back are, “callin’” his name.

“Fuck baby. Shut the fuck up ‘n open your mouth for me,” he demanded.

You did as he said, sticking out your tongue to show him that you wanted his spend to fall down your tongue and land right between your spread legs. You wanted to push it in your whimpering hole and keep it there.

“Oh what a good girl,” he praised, nearly purring.

He watched as the saliva dripped between your breasts, bulging out of the top of your nearly see-through black dress, and he tried to imagine what his cock would look like between them. How warm your throat would feel as he stuck his fingers down it until he collected enough spit to make fucking between your breasts easier. Not that he particularly cared whether you were in pain or not, but he imagined your tiny throat around his thick fingers would feel good. Slapping the head of his cock against your face, seeing it’s outline in your throat as you choked on it.

He cried out in pleasure as a small amount of cum dripped out of his weeping hole, using his other hand not wrapped around his cock to collect it. He wiped it down his shaft, using it to further edge himself. He sulked deeper into the chair he was sitting in, making sure not to lower his head in pleasure too much. He didn’t want you to see him.

You loved moaning for him, whimpering and drawing out his screen name as he talked you through your orgasms- talked himself through his own.

“Let me see ‘em sweetheart. Take off your dress for daddy ‘n let me cum one more time on your pretty tits, yeah?”

His mind wandered, what color would your nipples be, how would they feel swelling under his tongue? What would your pussy smell like? Licking lines between one tight hole and another, weeping and wet- eventually having your arousal run down his chin wetting his patchy and graying beard. Your cum drying on his lips, sticky against his neck. He moaned breathlessly.

“Mmm daddy, you see, I would love to, but our hour is up, and I’ve gotta go. What a shame,” you pouted at him. He had a truly worrying number of orgasms for a middle-aged man, another and he might fall right over. “Send me an extra 80 and I’ll find some time to sneak away to the bathroom tonight. I’ll see how far I can fuck my fingers into my pussy for you, hmm?”

You hit end before he could gather his breath, and a response. Your phone dinged with the money he owed you, plus a little more. Wiping your own spit and slick away from your mouth, you got up to shower. You needed the cold shower to take away the red in your cheeks and the red marks across your body. Self-sustained, of course, but for him. For his pleasure. For the money.

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The gallery evenly hummed under hushed warm lights and a whispering crowd. Your artwork, you, were splattered so carefully across the walls, and your friends and family were looking upon you. You’d already made your away around to thank everyone for coming, for putting on a brave face just to later mimic the thoughts they’d been sharing with you since you picked up a paintbrush. “And how will this sustain you? What kind of job will this get you?” You didn’t have the heart to tell them that currently, a nearly 50 year old man was sustaining you for fucking yourself in front of a camera for him.

Where was Sarah? It was like her to be late, but not this late to something so important.

Your eyes roamed the smallish room, and there was another person you had missed. Sighing from the promise of more conversation and “what’s next” questions, you moved your hair behind your ear and started walking towards him.

Amidst the crowd, your eyes were drawn to the man, unfamiliar. You had only invited family and close friends. Sure, the show was open to the public, but who would have taken time out of their Thursday night to come see some art senior’s capstone show?

He emanated both beauty and fear- timidness on your part. There was an undeniable allure about him, your curiosity piqued. You observed the man closely, trying to place where you had encountered him before, who he could possibly be. His large back was turned to you, but you could see by the gray in his hair that he was too old to be one of your friends’ play things.

He turned away from the piece he was admiring, showcasing his side profile first, and something inside of you clicked. Not knowing if it clicked in place or out, the feeling quickly dissipated into fear. He was ethereal and your chest was heavy. Your palms sweating, you looked around to see if he had the same effect on anyone else, but no one was paying attention.

He was fully turned now, approaching you, but you couldn’t make eye contact. Your spine tinged with a sense of familiarity that sent warning signals to your senses. His eyes bore into you, and suddenly the half-naked self portraits on the walls felt like nothing compared to the depth in which his gaze cut into you. You felt like you needed to run. Your nipples hardened almost painful under your dress.

The air around him reached you before he did. Aged whiskey, honey, musk… a man. The flannel he was wearing draped over his broad shoulders perfectly, looking too thick for a May night. He looked completely out of place. He reached his hand forward and all you could do was stare at it.

What the fuck was wrong with you?

It was massive, his fingers thick and calloused from hard work and time. They looked familiar, even. Surely not… You recognized your pause and looked up at him, taking his hand as he introduced himself.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya, Birdie,” He smirked beneath the facial hair, lips turning upwards on the right side, showing his teeth. He looked down upon you, eyes darkening as skin touched skin. He saw in your eyes as you realized who he was.

“Joel Miller,” his deep southern accent dripping with charm and an underlying edge that made your heart race, “and you?”

No.

“Hey! Oh my god, I’m sorry, Chase called me so I had to step out for a minute,” Sarah entered the liminal space, nearly squealing. “THIS IS INCREDIBLE. I am so proud of you.” She had you immediately in a hug. “Oh, and I see you’ve met my dad.” She said cheerfully. “I thought I’d drag him out here to meet my bestie so it won’t be so awkward when you come and visit me. Cause you’ll be coming to visit me… right?”

You smiled, as warmly as possible as your body was fighting off a panic attack.

Recognition flickered in your mind, triggering fragmented memories of perfectly unsettling encounters. Joel was the one who had whispered, screamed, filthy words to you over the computer screen. His messages laced with cum and an intensity that had left you both captivated and unsettled- but always wanting more. You hadn't invited him to the gallery, and you had certainly never met him in person. The puzzle pieces fell into place, and a chilling revelation washed over you as he continued roaming your body, eye-fucking you, as you half listened to Sarah- he knew exactly who you were. He was here on purpose.

You introduced yourself to him, reaching your hand back out as his engulfed yours, warm and dry. “Sarah has told me so much about you,” he winked, “work has me busy so I don’t visit here too often but I couldn’t miss this,” he gestured.

He pulled your body into his for a hug. What a fucking gentleman, huh. Suddenly the ground wasn’t solid and your body was being held against his stoic frame… and suddenly your thighs were slipping together under your dress, wet and sticky.

“You cleaned up nice baby. Couldn’t look too fucked out for tonight, could ya?” He whispered into your ear, chuckling deeply into your hair as it moved against his warm breath, tickling your neck.

“Joel Miller, as I live and breathe.” His warmth was suddenly gone and the air felt thick, empty. “Now who would have thought our girls would end up being best friends? How come we didn’t put two and two together before?” Your dad patted Joel across the back

Oh, fuck.

Part 2: Prologue

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A/N: Now imagine how it would be if they were physically together… oops! I’m always taking requests <3

[tortabi]

[notashe-hogwarts]

Ya’ll...

Carnal had me on my KNEES after reading it- if you don’t know the fic its: carnal by Arthenaa on tumblr! 

[c4rn4l]

Well? You can't expect me to do all of the work for you.

[underthenightskydreamsneverdie]

Carnal chapter six

Summary: The sexual tension between Mattheo and Daisy reaches a breaking point as they grow closer to each other.

Warnings: 18+, thigh riding, oral sex (f! receiving), hand job (m! receiving),

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle and f!OC Daisy Waters

Word count: 4286

A/N: Things are getting spicy 🌶️ wrote this whole chapter in some sort of music and lust fueled trance, it was kind of awesome. Hope you dirty freaks (💜) love it!

Divider credit to: @enchanthings

Chapter one Chapter two Chapter three Chapter four Chapter five

Character mood boards Chapter two mood board Chapter three mood board Chapter four mood board Chapter five mood board Chapter six mood board

Taglist: @evaslytherpuff @sylviaonyx @helendeath @hotcinnam0nspicy

If you would like to be added to the tag list, leave a comment or send me an ask

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

The next few weeks flew by for Mattheo, his day spent at Daisy’s home breaking down a lot of boundaries between them. Mattheo was obsessed and he didn’t care who knew it. He hung on her every word, her sweet voice and soft giggles like a drug. He needed constant physical connection with her, from simply holding her hand during classes, pulling her legs over his during meals and ghosting his fingers over her soft thighs, to full on make out sessions in the middle of crowded hallways, it didn’t matter, he had to have her near. 

Tonight he was in the Hufflepuff common room, Daisy in his lap as they sat in a quiet corner. He was attempting to convince her to spend the night with him, kissing her neck and whispering in her ear. “Please, princess, let me hold you all night long. I sleep so damn well when you’re next to me.” 

“No fair…” Daisy moaned as he nipped at her neck and swirled his tongue over each bite. 

“Hmm? What’s not fair, princess?” He knew she was referring to the attention he was giving her neck, having recently discovered how much she enjoyed it, but she sounds so sexy when she blabbers like this, I can’t help but wind her up. 

“Using neck kisses to get what you w-want…fuck, Matty!” Her fingers tangled in his hair, gently tugging at his curls.

Chuckling, he smirked against her ear. “Is that a yes, princess?” Going back to her neck he sucked hard, using his tongue to push her to give in. She groaned softly, her hips instinctually moving against his raging erection. Mattheo sucked in a sharp breath, pushing her hips down on him as she continued. “Mmmm, come on, princess, say yes. Let me take you to bed and give you what you clearly want. Say yes to Matty.” 

She pulled away suddenly, climbing off his lap, leaving them both whiny and needy. “Come with me, darling.” 

Waiting for him with her hand out, he noticed her blushing softly, eyes focused on his pants. I know you’re not embarrassed by my cock right now, you did this to me, pretty girl. When she started giggling he flicked his eyes down and his jaw dropped. Oh. Oh my. He chuckled, very pleased with himself, and her. Outlining the bulge in his pants was an impressive wet spot, left by her grinding. “Well, fuck, princess.” He got up, following her up the stairs to her dorm. “Are you even wearing panties right now?” 

“Maybe. Maybe not.” 

She didn’t turn around to look at him, her voice stayed even, leaving him unable to guess the answer and it drove him wild. How wrong would it be to look up her skirt right now? He shoved his free hand into his pocket, resisting the temptation of lifting her skirt right that second. 

Daisy led him through the halls into her room, waving her wand to close and lock the door. His eyebrows shot up as he looked around. She wasn’t kidding, there isn’t a single bit of privacy in here. “Don’t get me wrong, Daisy, I’ll get naked with you anywhere, but, uh, won’t your roommates mind?” 

“Oh, we’re not getting naked here. Ever.” He frowned before she grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulling him down to her level. “You think I want my roommates seeing that?” Her voice dropped to a seductive whisper. “No, the privilege of seeing you naked belongs solely to me now, handsome. And I’d claw out the eyes of any girl who ruins that.” Fuck, why is that so sexy?!

A growl slipped past his lips and he lifted her up, squeezing her ass in the process, growling again as her legs wrapped around him. “Which bed is yours?” 

“That way, you’ll know it when you see it.” He didn’t know which way she gestured, but she was right, he definitely knew by looking which was hers. The black floral blanket, and skull covered pillow cases were a dead giveaway, but it was the sight of his sketch, the one he had sent her over the summer, framed, and sitting on her desk that made him sure. 

Gently laying her down, kissing her before reaching for the frame, he looked at her with a brow raised. 

“Isn’t it gorgeous? My boyfriend drew it. He’s pretty talented.” Mattheos heart skipped a beat as she used the word boyfriend for the first time. Fuck yes, say it again, baby. He never liked it in the past, but hearing it in Daisy’s sweet voice, he felt like he could melt through the floor. 

“Oh, your boyfriend?” He wanted to play it cool, tease her a little, but he couldn’t, he loved it too much. 

“Oh, sorry, did you think we were just casual acquaintances, Matty? My casual acquaintance drew - Ahh!” She let out a playful scream and giggle as he threw himself on top of her, pressing her hip into the mattress with one hand and gripping her chin with the other. 

“There is nothing casual about us, Daisy Waters.” He growled. “Not a fucking thing.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “I wish you’d let me show you that, Daisy.” 

“That’s why I brought you up here, Matty,” she didn’t look nearly as excited as he expected, “I want to talk about sex.” Talk or have?

“I want it. With you, I mean.” Pretty sure she knows that, dummy. “Only with you.” Nice recovery. “And I’m pretty sure you want it too, so why are you holding back, pretty girl?” 

“I do, Matty, I do! You have no idea…” His mind went back to the way she had happily spread her legs for him to crawl between, and the wet spot on his pants, a little smirk forming on his lips. Oh I have some idea, princess. “But…” No, not a but, anything but a but. “I have something that I need to tell you first, a secret, about myself.” She looked almost scared, making his heart flutter with a sudden protective instinct. He climbed off of her, pulling her into his lap, wrapping her in his safety. 

“You know you can, Daisy. You can tell me anything, sweet girl. Anything. You’re safe with me.” 

“I know, that’s why I have to tell you before we have sex. This is bigger than sex, more… revealing. There could be serious consequences if it gets out, Mattheo.” The worry in her voice was unmistakable and his own worry was growing. What could her secret possibly be? Doesn’t matter, I’ll keep it. 

“I won’t tell a soul, Daisy. I love you and I’ll keep your secrets safe.” Squeezing her tight to him, he kissed her forehead and ran his fingers through her hair. “Will you tell me now, princess?” 

“I want to, love, but it’s more of a show and tell and we need more privacy.” 

More privacy? “We’re alone in here, Daisy, just you and me. What more do we need?” She’s the only thing I need. 

“We’re not alone enough. Please, Matty, just trust me. You’ll understand once I show you. Just give me a little longer to figure out how I can do that.” Her stress over this situation was clear, and not wanting to make it worse he agreed. 

“I trust you, princess. We can wait until you’re ready, just know I’m going to struggle so hard. I want you, Daisy, constantly, desperately, completely.” 

“Well…that’s the other part of this conversation. I need us to move slowly, but I do not want us to stand still, I have needs and I want you to help me take care of them.” She blushed, giggling softly, the sight making Mattheo melt. Gods, I love her so fucking much. “Do you understand, baby?” 

He was nodding his head before she even finished her sentence, not caring in the slightest about how eager he appeared. He would take anything she gave him and greedily beg for more. “Fuck, yes, tell me where to start, princess. What are you comfortable with right now? I want to rip all your clothes off but that may be too much.” 

Daisy giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Why don’t we start with you taking me back to your dorm, and see where things go from there.” 

“Gods, yes! Come on, pretty girl.” 

Daisy gasped as Mattheo led her into the Slytherin common room, the view into the murky Black Lake the first thing she saw. The green glow it cast over the room was eerie and cold, making a chill run down her spine. Certainly not in Kansas anymore, Dorthy. 

Mattheo stopped, letting her look around, and she knew he was happy to show her off, especially here. His arms wrapped around her waist possessively if she stood still for longer than two seconds on any given day, but this was his home territory and he seemed a little more relaxed, following a few paces behind her as she walked to the window. 

“What do you think, pretty girl?” 

She stayed silent for another few moments staring out into the darkness of the lake, feeling uneasy. “Get me out of here before I start thinking any further about the crushing pressure of the Black Lake being all around me.” 

“Oh, shit.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her away from the window. “Why didn’t you tell me you were claustrophobic, Daisy?” 

“I’m not.” 

“Don’t like water?” She could hear his concern for her growing as he steered her in what she could only assume was the direction of his dorm.

“Love the water.” The tiniest of lies. The human side of her loved being in the water, loved being in this very lake. She had always felt good in the water, quick, agile, at peace, alive, but since she had become a wolf her relationship with the water had changed. It was life giving in an entirely new way but the wolf in her preferred to keep its paws firmly planted on solid, dry ground. 

She shivered again, the chill of the room seeping into her bones. She wanted to transform, knew her incoming winter coat would keep her warm, but there was an easier solution. Mattheo. Bringing their intertwined fingers to her lips she kissed his knuckles, taking in his smell. The effect was instant, the lust fueled warmth his scent brought her washed over her body, making her moan and her eyes roll back. She stumbled into him, unaware he had stopped, surprised to find him looking at her. 

“Daisy, are you okay?” His face was full of concern but there was a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Oh, yeah, I just got lost thinking about you for a minute there…” Fuck. How am I supposed to explain this? What the hell were you thinking, Daisy, taking a sniff at him now? Gods, why is he looking at me like that? It's so sexy. I need him. I need him! 

“What about me, pretty girl?” Damn him. His voice was deepening as he caught on to her arousal. No way out of it now.

“All the ways you turn me on, baby.” 

“Oh you’re turned on, are you?” His smirk turned into a devilish grin, he looked like he could eat her alive. She was ready to be devoured. 

“I’m well past turned on, handsome, I’m dripping for you.” Fuck it, let’s go there. She stood on her toes, giving him a sloppy kiss, tongue swiping across his lips. “Get me to your bed, Matty.” 

Daisy giggled as Mattheo picked her up, his hands slipping under her skirt. She loved it, could feel exactly how much she was getting to him, his hard cock pressing against her as he quickly walked to his room. “Hurry, Matty. Wanna cum for you.” 

“Fuck, princess, I’m going as fast as I can, we’re almost there.” He set her down a minute later, pushing open his door, guiding her to his bed. He turned and looked around. “Looks like we have the place to ourselves for now.” 

“Thank Merlin.” She reached for his belt, undoing it quickly. “Get these off.” 

She kicked off her shoes, dropped her bag on the floor and reached under her skirt, pulling off her tights. “I’m gonna say things that don’t make sense, just let me talk, okay?” 

He clearly had no idea what was going on with her, but he was also clearly okay with it. “Are you kidding, your horny babble is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard, say anything you want, pretty girl.” 

“Good. Get on the bed. No wait!” He was standing in only his button up shirt and boxers and the sight of him almost made her orgasm right then and there. Hold on, Daisy, just hold it down a little longer. She reached up, slipping a few fingers between the buttons of his shirt. “You won’t be needing this.” She tugged, what she thought was gently, his entire shirt ripping in half. Damn it! Fucking wolf strength. “I swear I’ll fix that!” 

His look of disbelief and eruption of laughter as the ruined shirt fell to the floor sent her into a fit of giggles. “Never mess with Daisy when she’s horny. Got it.” He chuckled, looking down at her. 

“Just get on the bed.” She said between giggles, smacking his butt as he did. The shocked look on his face and the moan she suspected he hadn’t been able to control turned her on even more. 

“Daisy! You’re a wild thing, tonight. I’m in for the ride of my life with you, aren't I?” 

“Oh, Mattheo, you have no idea just how wild I am.” She laughed deeply, crawling across the bed to him, straddling his thigh. “You asked earlier if I had panties on…now’s your chance to find out.” She rocked her hips slowly, grinding herself against his thigh, the thin fabric of her thong doing absolutely nothing to contain her juices. His hands slipped under her skirt, sliding over her ass, squeezing her flesh, making her moan. “Matty…” She was so close already, his scent driving her towards climax at breakneck speed. Her hips sped up, her thighs parting further, desperately seeking friction against her clit. Gripping his shoulders, she leaned in, taking a deep breath, eyes rolling back and fluttering closed, every muscle in her body clenched as a new wave of burning lust washed over her. Yes! Yes! She was oblivious to him and his exploration of her curves, completely consumed by the need to climax from his scent. Burying her face in his hair she tumbled over the edge of sanity, dragging her nails down his neck, digging them into his shoulders as the first orgasmic wave hit her like a train. She couldn’t see, blinding white light behind her eyes forcing her other senses into overdrive. She opened her mouth to scream his name, a perfect howl coming out instead, piercing the air, her neck stretching towards the ceiling. 

As the first wave passed she collapsed, falling back onto the bed between his legs, chest heaving, mind completely blank. After what felt like an eternity of pleasure she registered Mattheo calling her name, his beautiful face coming into view above her. 

“Daisy? You there, gorgeous?” She smiled up at him and he stroked her cheek. “You have no idea you just squirted all over me, do you, baby?” 

She stared at him, not taking in a thing he said. “You’re all wet, Matty…” 

“Yeah, pretty girl, I am.” He chuckled, a sound Daisy loved hearing and she smiled again, eyes unfocused. “One good orgasm and there’s just nothing behind those pretty eyes, huh, baby?” He pressed soft kisses to her face, gently lowering his weight onto her. 

She moaned in agreement, still basking in the afterglow and now his sweet kisses. Things were slowly starting to come back to her, she remembered she was in his room, and supposed to be denying the overwhelming urge to let him take her all night long. 

“That was incredible to witness, Daisy, you’re so damn beautiful when you fall apart. And that howl…fuck, that was sexy, I’ve never heard a girl do that. You must be worn out, baby, do you want to stop?” His voice was soft and caring, almost hiding his hunger for more, for the same release she had. 

“Want another, Matty, wanna please you too…” She trailed off, fumbling with the buttons on her shirt. “Kiss me, touch me.” She finally gave up and ripped her own shirt apart, cursing as it split down the middle like his. 

Mattheo laughed again at her desperation and lifted himself off her, pulling her up to sit in his lap. She watched him toss her ruined shirt on the floor with his, sighing contently as he wasted no time acquainting himself with her newly exposed chest, making her giggle. His hair tickled her chin, the soft, wet kisses he planted outlining her lacy bra setting her skin ablaze again. She let herself breathe in his scent, getting high off of it. “Fuck, you smell good, Matty. I can’t get enough.” She buried her face in his hair again.  

“I've noticed you enjoying the way I smell a number of times now. I got some new cologne over the summer, is that what you like so much?” 

“Cologne? What?” She took a small sniff at his neck. “Oh you did, oh, that’s quite pleasant. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” She lifted his chin, kissing her way down his neck. “I’m talking about you, your natural scent, your pher-, never mind.” She licked a path up his neck, inhaling as much of him as she could, moaning as she sucked a mark under his ear. “It’s intoxicating to me, just like a drug.” She knew he couldn’t understand, and it was okay, he would soon enough.

“The feel of your skin is intoxicating to me, Daisy. Gods, the sight of you in this lacy bra is intoxicating. Please tell me your panties match, pretty girl.” 

“Wanna find out?” She searched the waistband of her skirt for the zipper before stopping, raising her hands to his chest. “Maybe you should take this off me given my track record with clothing tonight…” She laughed, her face flushing. 

“Good idea. Now where is that damn zipper, there we go. Fuck, princess…they do match, don’t they? Can you just sit here like this for a minute, this is an image I need burned into my soul. My perfect punk princess in her pretty pastel lingerie, just for me.” He groaned, making her blush and giggle. 

“You really like it that much, Matty?” 

He stayed quiet for a few long moments, just staring at her, his voice far away when he spoke. “Draco dared me to steal something from a muggle store once when we were younger. He shoved it into my hands and told me to run. It was one of those muggle nude magazines but this edition was all about lingerie. I had never seen anything like it. I thought it was so fucking sexy, I used that magazine to jerk off for years, I even went back and stole more. I’ve seen enough to know Daisy, so please, baby, believe me when I say not a single one of those models could ever compare to the sight of you right now.” She blushed as he laid her down, slipping her skirt off, and kissed his way up her body. “You are the absolute sexiest woman I have and will ever see. You make the lingerie sexy, princess, not the other way around.” 

She was stunned. She hadn’t felt insecure when she asked but his incredible answer made certain she would never feel insecure around him again. “Matty…I don’t know what to say…I love you…and I bought it all with you in mind…” 

“You bought this sexy little thing to wear for me?” 

“I did, and twenty others like it…” She giggled as he groaned against her neck. 

“Twenty?! Are you trying to kill me, Daisy?”

“Not kill you, Mattheo, just…turn you on.” She gasped as his hips bucked, his stiff cock grinding against her. 

“It’s working.” His growl made her moan and she felt him roughly pull her thong out of his way, a moment later rubbing his, now bare, velvety shaft against her folds. “Daisy, fuck, baby, I want you. You sure I can’t nestle my cock inside you tonight, princess?” 

“Matty.” The thought of him inside her was heavenly, something she had been dreaming about for months, but she was strong willed in her decision about showing him her wolf form before allowing him to take her completely, just in case it changed things. This moan of his name was a warning not to push his luck, one he seemed to understand as his hips slowed and he sucked another possessive mark onto her neck. 

“Will you let me taste you, princess?” He sounded so desperate for her, there was no way she could deny him this. 

Oral sex was something she had never received before, the way her past lover talked made her unsure she ever would, telling her it was disgusting and he would never indulge her desire even while demanding she do so for him. But he wasn’t Mattheo Riddle and it was easy to forget that jerk existed now Matty was in her life. 

“I’ve…no one I’ve been with has ever been willing…” She trailed off feeling shy about wanting this, his surprised expression making her groan. Fuck, should I not have said that? Surely he didn’t expect me to be a virgin, right? He didn’t say anything for a few long moments, staring down at her with a pained, confused look. “Matty?” 

She felt even more confused as he shook his head, leaning down to kiss her. “Sorry, princess, I’m having trouble comprehending the fact that any man would be idiotic enough to pass up the opportunity to devour your pretty pussy. Don’t you worry, I’ll make up for their foolishness, if you want me to, that is…” 

She nodded eagerly, whimpering as all of her embarrassment slipped away. “Yes, oh gods, yes, Matty.” 

“That’s my girl. You’re gonna love it, princess.” With another kiss he moved down her body, making her groan as he caressed her curves and spread her legs. “Oh, Daisy. Your pussy is even more gorgeous than I thought.” She could feel herself blush, heat rising in her face and her stomach, the feel of his breath on her soaked folds made her squirm with anticipation. “So fucking pretty…” she cried out as his tongue swiped over her, back arching off the bed. Oh fuck yes. “So fucking delicious…mmmmm gods, Daisy, you’re fucking perfect.” 

She could hear his words, her body reacting to them, but her mind was gone, lost in a world of pleasure better than anything she had ever experienced. Yes! Oh yes, Matty! Every movement of his tongue sent her further into heavenly oblivion. She felt weightless, certain her body was floating as he groaned and gripped her hips hard whenever she squirmed. How did I ever think this was wrong? It feels so fucking right. She was addicted to his worship already, knew she would die without it from this moment on, just like everything else about him. The sounds of him slurping and sucking, his groaning and heavy breathing, the sheer wetness of it all flooded her sensitive ears, leaving her begging for more, for him to never stop. Moaning his name over and over like a prayer, her muscles tightened, hands gripping his curls as the heat in her stomach reached a burning point, spreading through her veins like a poison. Her vision blurred, her heart raced, her lips pursed and she howled again as her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave. 

Ages passed as she slowly floated back to reality, Mattheo nipping at her thighs, sucking and licking, leaving his marks on her skin bringing her from one heaven to another. “Mattheo…” She moaned his name, softly running a hand through his hair, gripping his chin when he looked up at her, pulling him up to her face. She kissed him desperately, sucking on his lips, swirling her tongue with his, tasting herself on him. His hips bucked, she knew he was beyond ready for release, ready to force it to be his turn, his groans morphing into growls. Slipping her hand between their bodies, she gripped his cock, stroking him expertly, slowly, perfectly. “So big, so hard, look at you falling apart for me so prettily. You wanna cum for me, baby?” His whimper was absolute perfection, a sound she would never tire of. “Cum for me, Matty.” She watched his eyes roll back and squeeze shut, a deep growl emanating from his chest, his body shuttering, ropes of his warm seed shooting onto her stomach and chest. Her hand never stopped stroking, greedily milking every last drop from him until he collapsed on top of her, groaning her name. She stroked his back, ran her fingers through his hair as he struggled to catch his breath. “Good boy. Such a good boy for me.” His head nestled in her neck, his broken whimper sent deep vibrations through her chest making her back arch. Pulling her hand from between their bodies she licked his cum from her fingers, groaning softly for him. Arms wrapped around him, she held him close, basking in the warmth of his presence.

[crypticmessengergoblin]

Hozier and that dang tambourine man

[bloodyknucklesforme]

I Am Hungry, I Have Been Hungry | Carnal XVIII

Carnal (adjective) : relating to or given to crude bodily pleasures and appetites

Nina, Simon and Johnny get ready for Christmas

Masterpost

CW: cannibalism, rape/sexual assault mention, smut

This is very much a horror fic mostly based around the films Raw (2017) and Bones and All (2022), if you sit through those you should be good here. This is my first horror fic.

Chapter Title Credit: Abbey by Mitski

They sat there like rabbits in a warren. Nina took Johnny’s wrist and moved his hand from her hair to her face, kissing the palm of his hand. He’d cut himself with the knife the night before, not deeply but it could scar. Above her, Simon was kissing Johnny. One of his hands held Johnny’s cheek while the other held her calf firmly. 

“Our girl” is what Johnny said. She wanted to be their girl. Wanted to be part of something. She never thought being touched could be so comforting. Her father, the men at the hospital, Arthur, the men at the club. She could still feel how tightly they’d grip her arms. Simon’s touch was soft along her leg, despite the callouses. Watching them kiss - she wanted to be loved like that. 

She sat up. They stopped and looked at her. Her hands shook as she leaned in, kissing the side of Johnny’s mouth. Let her in please, please oh please, just let her in. Simon cupped the back of her head and pulled close. She ended up straddling one of each man's legs. Johnny was rubbing her back under her sweater. Simon was playing with the hem of her dress. 

She held their shoulders. Lips and teeth and tongues clashing together in a splendid melange. A large calloused hand made its way up her thigh to her centre, knuckles dragged against her covered slit. 

“Do you want me to?” Asked Simon, nuzzling her face. 

“Yes,” She whimpered. 

Simon slid two fingers under the gusset of her panties. Johnny’s grip on her tightened. She closed her eyes, letting their hands keep her from floating away. Simon played in her wetness, dragging his fingers between her folds. Johnny’s mouth was on her neck. She was trembling as they bounced her attention between them. 

“We got ya. Does it feel good?” Johnny’s fingers tangle in her hair, his other hand holding her hip steady.

“Our girl, our good girl.” Simon growls, rubbing his face against her chest. She gasped as Simon pushed a finger inside of her. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against Simon’s shoulder. Coos and praises filled her head like smoke. 

Two fingers pumping in and out. She gripped them, fingers shaking around woollen knits. Simon’s thumb rubbed circles around her clit. It was almost too much, she wanted to flinch away, it was good but strange. Her orgasm came as a surprise. Her back arched, Johnny and Simon kissing opposite sides of her face. She gasped and choked. 

“Do you want more, love? Want Johnny to take care of you?” Simon brushed her hair off her sweaty forehead. She turned and greedily kissed Johnny, something passionate, hungry. He pulled her fully into his lap.

He carried her upstairs, over his shoulder she watched Simon follow, licking his fingers clean. 

Johnny laid her down on the bed as gently as he could. Kissing down her chest until he reached the bottom of her sweater and could pull it up and over her head. Simon sat down beside her head, stroking her cheek and resting a hand on the back of Johnny’s head. 

Her dress was slid down her body, she shuddered as the cold air caused her nipples to harden and goosebumps rise over her arms. Johnny kissed down her stomach. Simon moved to lay down next to her. 

The bedroom was dark, the only light came from the hallway through the half closed door. The shadows made Simon’s face distort. Features changing as her eyes adjusted to the dark. Her stomach tossed about. Every time she blinked she saw a boot come crashing down, cracking open the front of his skull. 

She felt hot, sweat building in every bent joint. Her chest was getting smaller, her heart struggling to beat in rhythm. 

“Johnny, stop.” Simon said, pushing him by the shoulder. “Nina, look at me. You’re okay.”

There was a roaring in her ears. She pulled her knees up to her chest. She was an animal trapped between two predators. She moved her arm up to her mouth. An old scar ready to open up again. This cursed room, this cursed house, this cursed life. She bit down. 

A familiar taste but not hers. She felt no pain, just the gentle soothing of a hand on the back of her head. She was crying as she was lifted into Johnny’s lap and Simon moved behind him, enveloping both of them. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled through a full mouth. 

“Nothing to apologise for.” Johnny kissed her temple. Her jaw went slack as her heart rate calmed, matching Johnny’s pulse in her mouth. Her muscles ached as she let go of Johnny’s arm. Simon replaced it with his hand, putting pressure on the wound. 

“I told ya you wouldn’t ever have to hurt yourself again. I keep my promises.” Johnny said, kissing her temple. “Let’s get ya cleaned up.”

The air in the house felt different. There was something stale drifting about. Johnny complained about her opening all the windows despite the snow. She paced around the house in endless loops, Johnny following behind trying to keep her company. His arms around her waist and his chin on her shoulder any chance he got. She liked it. He was always warm. 

Simon was different. He was affectionate in small doses. Tucking her hair behind her ear, stroking her cheek, kissing her forehead. He seemed hesitant to do much else. She wanted more. Maybe it was greedy to want to try again after failing so horribly the first time. 

The three of them hadn’t tried to be intimate again. Simon slept in the spare bedroom if he was home at all. He spent most nights out hunting now. She and Johnny got to spend most nights alone. It was easy with just him. 

Johnny, delicately, would undress her and bury his head between her thighs. Her fingers tangling in his hair, tugging in gentle praise. His fingers spread her open, his mouth around her clit. 

He liked her on top when they fucked. His hands guiding her hips. He’d lean up to nip at the tender underside of her breasts. She liked how he called her pretty when she came. She missed feeling Simon’s eyes on her. 

Johnny and Simon would have their own moments alone in the stables. She’d watched them once or twice, maybe more. Standing on an old bucket, peering through a window. Coils of muscle and flesh wrapping around each other. Johnny didn’t nip at Simon, he bit him. They clung to each other like drowning victims. Their scars would line up, healed tissue sewing them together. It made her stomach warm. Did they know she was watching? Could they smell her and the wetness between her legs? 

“Mine,” Simon growled. 

She felt a twinge of jealousy. It felt more passionate between them. There were memories there. Love there. She wanted to be loved like that. She’d rush back to the house, hands shaking and cheeks on fire. 

She felt like ever the stranger in her own house. 

“I called to ask if I’m still welcome for Christmas dinner,” Price chuckled over the phone. She’d forgotten how close the holiday was. Price had been coming over for Christmas eve dinner since she could remember, always among her father’s other friends until his death. Then it was just Price.

“Of, course. I can do all the traditional stuff. Beef wellington, potatoes, sticky pudding. Whatever you like.” 

“I’d like that, Nina.” He sighed. “Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, ummm… I’m great. Johnny’s good too. We took his stitches out a while back, he complained the whole time but we’re good.” She couldn’t tell him everything. She never could. The burden of a father was, she supposed, never knowing everything. Price would never punish her, wouldn’t hit her or withhold food but she didn’t want to disappoint him all the same. “I know it's hard to understand but they’re like me. They understand. I never thought there were other people like me.”

“As long as you’re okay, Nina. They’re my men, I trust them. I don’t think I’ll ever understand it but as long as you're safe I’ll deal with it.” All their conversations felt half made, sentences dangling around like leftover birthday streamers. “I’ll see you on the twenty fourth.Take care of yourself, love.”

“You too.”

She’d never been one for Christmas, or any holiday. She enjoyed spending time with Price but the last few years Arthur had always started a fight as soon as he left. The boys wouldn’t do that though. It could be nice this time. Could be something to look forward to. 

She had Johnny help her dig out the old decorations from the cellar. Tinsel, baubles and a little nativity scene. They took Simon’s car to pick up a tree in town. 

“Could we go to the Christmas market one night?” She asked on the way back. She’d never actually gone. Only seen them on the telly. 

“Course we can,” Johnny smiled. He loved Christmas. Simon caught her gaze in the rearview mirror. His expression was neutral, it often felt like he watched her and Johnny like they were characters in a film.

She held both their hands as they walked around. The smells made her dizzy. Wine, oranges, gingerbread, cinnamon, pine, sugar, berries. It felt like something out of a holiday card. 

“You don’t have to waste your money on us,” Johnny said as she got them another basket of chips.

“I have a whole inheritance I’ve never used. You’re the ones who haven’t worked in over a month.” Simon chuckled while Johnny tried to deflect. It was a decent amount of money and it had grown thanks to Price choosing various investments for her. The joys of having two dead parents. 

She used that thought to justify the several bags of trinkets she’d gathered up over the night. Simon, dutifully holding them for her. Reaching around her to always take them from the stand owners before she could. 

She wondered what to get them for Christmas. She’d most likely have to order it online since one of them was almost always at her side. She wasn’t sure she was ready to venture out that much on her own. With the current weather Simon would carry her before letting her walk to town alone. She should have taken Price up on his various offers to teach her to drive. This Spring, maybe.

“Be right back,” Johnny said, disappearing into the crowd. She stuck close to Simon, his hands on her shoulders guiding her around, keeping her in his shadow. They stood off to the side, watching all the other people, the normal people. She swayed absentmindedly to the music. She saw Miss. Carter glowering at them from across the town centre. She tugged on Simon’s hand. 

“Let’s find Johnny.” She turned in towards his chest, trying to push him away from the crowd. He nodded and took them towards the mulled wine stand. He got her a cup. 

Simon took Nina’s chin and tilted it upwards, pouring mulled wine into her mouth before licking any dribbled liquid away. 

“Let’s let Johnny find us.” He pulled his jacket around her, tucking her head under his chin. He was gone the next night - hunting again. 

The nights he spent hunting were the only ones he’d sleep in their bed. He’d crawl into bed with her and Johnny in the early morning, smelling of blood and old straw. He always shivered a bit, even though he tried to hide it. His hair was damp. He was spraying the blood off his skin in the stables and then trudging back with a cooler of meat to the house.

She started leaving clean clothes out on the tack bench for him. She’d wake up early just to make tea for him, setting it on the bedside table for him. Taking care of him and Johnny felt like half repayment and half an attempt to dispel them of any thought of leaving her. Any excitement for the holiday disappeared when she remembered New Years followed and after New Years they’d be deployed again. 

She wandered outside early one morning. An old wool coat over her nightgown, thick socks in old boots and pack of cigarettes in her pocket (stolen from Simon’s coat). She sat on the stone column wall that separated the patio and the rest of the garden. It was snowing softly. She alternated which hand she kept in her pocket and which one she held her cigarette. 

She heard Simon’s car pull around front. It wouldn’t be long before he found her. She should have brought out tea in a thermos. 

“S’too cold for you, love. Catch your death out here.” His hair was damp. He left the cooler by the door before approaching, making space for himself between her knees and pulling her coat tighter around her and the flimsy cotton nightgown she’d ventured out in. 

She pulled another cigarette out from the pack in her pocket, offering it to him. He took it between his lips and held her chin steady as he lit it from the end of her own. She took a drag, “Couldn’t sleep.” 

“What’s keeping you up, lovey?” 

Her eyes were unfocused, gazing towards something non existent behind him. She was picking at the skin around her nails, he laid his hand over hers. She looked up, locking eyes with him.

“I want you to touch me.”

He rubbed his hand over hers, “I am touching you.”

“Please Simon. I need to feel like I’m not broken.”

He dropped his cigarette and cupped her face between his hands, “Don’t say that. They did not break you.”

Her face crumpled up, her whole body shrinking down in his grasp.

“I don’t…I don’t want you two to leave.”

“We’re not leaving. Shhh…don’t cry, lovey. We don’t plan on leaving you.” He pulled her into his chest. 

“I don’t want to be alone. You’re the only people who understand.” He hushed her, stroking the back of her head. 

“We’re family. The three of us. It’ll always be us.” He took her cigarette from her and stubbed it out.

“Then touch me…I want to do it, the three of us. I can do it.” She pleaded.

He pressed his cheek against hers, his mouth against her ear. “I want to fuck you, Nina. I want you; willing and confident. I want to taste you, watch Johnny fuck you, keep you pressed between us. But I don’t want you to force yourself. I don’t want you out here, begging in the cold. Johnny and I will wait till you're ready. Truly ready. ”

She pulled away, cheeks red as she rubbed her tears away. “What if I’m never ready?”

“It wouldn’t change anything. You’re stuck with us, forever.” He kissed her cheek. “ You're cold. Get back to bed with Johnny. I’ll be there soon.”

“Can I wait for you?”

“Course.”

She sat on the top of the stairs as he went down to the cellar, listened to him unpack the cooler into the freezer. 

“We’ll need a second one soon.” He called up to her. 

“We have enough. You don’t have to work so hard. It’s dangerous to go out every night.” 

“Need to make sure you’re well fed while we’re gone.” He walked up the stairs till he could rest his chin on her knee. “Johnny’s promises are mine too.”

Simon got into bed first, Nina curled up to his side and he pulled Johnny into the other one. He was warm. 

It was the first time she’d worn makeup since Arthur. She had a new dress too, nothing fancy, plaid with ruffled straps. She’d kicked Simon and Johnny out of the kitchen. She wanted this meal to be special. She also didn’t know if Price would trust it if she wasn’t the one to make it. It was the only time she enjoyed cooking. It was a tradition started by her and Price, after her father and before Arthur.

“Got to let me do something, bonnie. Feeling useless out ‘ere.” Johnny stuck his head into the room. 

“Could you set the table?” He nodded with a grin, rushing in to grab the place settings. 

“Smells fantastic by the way.” He pecked her cheek.

She was very meticulous in laying out all the food. The two extra place settings allowed for a wider spread. She had Price at the head of the table, her on one side and Simon and Johnny on the other. This was the one night she liked using this room. Christmas Eve supper wouldn’t feel as special at the small table in the kitchen. She tried to push all the bad memories out. 

Dinners with all her father’s friends where the particularly disgusting ones would pinch the back of her thighs as she walked past. One of them had cornered her in the kitchen one night. Price walked in, thankfully. His rage wasn’t directed at her but it still frightened her. She didn’t remember that man’s name but she did recall hearing he fell out of a helicopter on his next deployment. Dead on impact.

She poured herself a glass of wine, drinking it down quickly. She was rageful in that moment. Her life picked and prodded at by the men in her life. Her desires used against her, never anything given, always taken. 

Here she was, finally with two men who understood her, respected her, might even love her and she struggled with their touch. Everything she wanted was just out of her grasp. 

“Price just texted saying he’s a couple minutes out…you alright, bonnie?” Johnny was frowning at her from the doorway. 

“I’m okay.” She wiped her tears away, careful of her makeup. He walked up to her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “Do I look okay?”

“You look beautiful.” He smiled. “Stay here for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

She nodded, feeling embarrassed. She hated crying in front of men, even if it was Johnny. 

He returned with Simon. Who was freshly shaved and his hair clipped short. He looked handsome. Johnny had resisted cutting his hair short, waiting till the last minute so his mohawk had grown out to be a patch of curly hair. 

“We have something for ya,” Johnny grinned, pulling a small wrapped box from behind his back. “I picked it out but it was mostly Simon’s idea.”

They went on either side of her as she unwrapped it. It was a little black cardboard box. She pulled the top off and it was a necklace with three little gems at the centre of the chain.

“Each one is supposed to be one of us. Sapphire for Simon, nacre for Nina and jade for Johnny.”

“You’ll always have us with you,” Simon said. Once upon a time, she hoped Arthur would surprise her with a ring. She liked this better. “I want to see it on you.”

Johnny held her hair up and Simon put it around her neck. 

“Beautiful.” Simon smiled, fixing the chain so the charms sat centre on her chest. 

She felt loved, fingers rubbing over the gems. Her boys - always with her. 

Dinner went smoothly. Price wouldn’t stop complimenting her and the food. She got him a first edition copy of a Georges Simenon mystery novel. He got her a John Le Carre novel. They always gifted each other books. Always had. He told embarrassing stories about Simon and Johnny from work. 

“Would have preferred if you took me up on my offer to set you up with Garrick,” he chuckled. “He’s a proper bloke. Better than this lot.”

“I like this lot.” 

“They’d get an earful if you didn’t.”

“They’re good to me.”

“Good.” He smiled.

She walked him out to his car while Simon and Johnny cleaned up.

“I’m proud of you, Nina. Truly. Despite everything you’ve grown into a wonderful young woman. I don’t understand everything about you and I don’t think I ever will but I’m happy you found those two. I want you to try to get out more. MacTavish for sure would jump at the chance to take you on a trip somewhere.” He hugged her. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“Thank you, John… I love you.”

“I love you, too, Nina.” He kissed her cheek as a final farewell.

They boys had packed everything away. 

“Meet me in the living room. I have gifts for the two of you.”

“Gifts are normally given in the morning, you know?” Simon said, sitting on the couch next to Johnny. 

“You guys gave me one already.”

“Aye, fair enough.”

She grabbed two gifts from under the tree. A bottle of bourbon for Simon and a set of new pencils for Johnny. 

“Thank you, lovey.”

Johnny got up to thank her but she motioned for him to sit back down.

“I have one more gift.”

“That so, bon?”

“It’s from me to me but I still need you two to help.” Simon raised an eyebrow and leaned back, waiting.

She took a deep breath. It would be okay. It would feel good. Their touch was always gentle. Johnny looked at her like she was something sacred. Simon - like he wanted nothing else in the world. Her choice. Her boys. Her body in their hands. A safe place. A home.

She pulled the straps of her dress down and off her shoulders till the whole garment fell to the floor. She resisted the urge to cover her bare breasts. 

They got up together. Johnny at her back and Simon at her front. He held her face like it was the only thing holding her up, kissing her greedily. 

“Promise me you’ll say if you want to stop.”

“I don’t want to-”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

Johnny kissed down her shoulders and back till he was tugging her panties off. Simon followed suit down her chest and stomach till he was level with her centre. 

“Johnny hold her up,” He said, hiking one of her legs over his shoulder. Johnny stood and held her waist, keeping her steady. Simon stared up at her, “Look at me, Nina.”

She locked eyes with him as his tongue spread her open. She grabbed his shoulder and Johnny’s forearm. 

“Told him how you like it,” Johnny chuckled. She leaned her head back against his chest. He’d done a good job. Simon seemed to already know her. Rubbing her clit as he teased her entrance with her tongue, lapping up her wetness. Johnny rubbed circles on her hips. His cock was hard against her ass through his pants. 

Simon waited till she was a mewling mess before pushing a finger inside of her, curling it up to press against the spot inside her, trapping her nerves between his tongue and finger. 

“Gonna watch ya cum on his face.” Johnny said, kissing and sucking marks against her neck. His hand glided up her hip to her breast to massage it. 

It felt good. Better than good, incredible. She let herself melt between them. All the muscles in her body stretched out like a rubber band before snapping in a scream. Simon groaned loudly as she clenched around his fingers, his mouth moving wildly to cover as much of her as he could. 

They laid her on the floor, pillows under her head and hips. Johnny was licking Simon’s face clean. She was still coming down from her first orgasm as she watched them strip each other. Simon’s hard cock matched the rest of his stature. It made her stomach flip seeing him grind against Johnny’s. 

Simon broke their kiss to look at her, “I want to watch our boy fuck you. Is that okay, Nina?”

She nodded, holding out her arms for Johnny. He was on her in a moment. 

“Simon get you ready for me?” He cooed, peppering sloppy wet kisses across her jaw. “Tell me how badly you want me.”

“Please, please Johnny.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and spread her legs for him. Simon held one of her ankles and squeezed reassuringly.

His first thrust stole the air out of her lungs. The head of his cock bumping against that spot. Simon was guiding his hips. “There we go, find your rhythm, don’t leave her wanting. Good boy, Johnny.” 

Johnny always looked her in the eyes when they fucked. Sweaty foreheads rubbing against each other. He had beautiful blue eyes that made her feel so adored. Their noses clunked together as he panted. 

“Taking me so well. You feel so good, Neen. Wanna make you cum again. Can you cum again for me, bonnie?” He was drooling. Simon’s hand slid between them to rub her circles around her clit. 

“Where do you want him to cum, love? On your stomach?... Inside you?” Simon’s voice was deeper, more gravely. His eyes were darker. 

“Inside, please.” She had to know what it felt like. To be filled, to be claimed. She was their girl. She wanted it. She chose it. She wanted both of them. 

The room smelled of sex. Johnny was grunting with every thrust. It was wet and warm and wonderful. Her own slick was dripping down, splattering across her thighs. 

“Please, Johnny. I…I’m…I’m…” Her words got swallowed by another scream as she came again, clenching hard around him. Johnny moaned loudly, picking up his thrusts as he chased his own end. 

It was strange but not unwelcome. Johnny’s cock twitched inside her and she could feel warmth spreading throughout and seeping out where their bodies met. He gave her another kiss as he rolled off her, resting with their shoulders and thighs pressed against each other.

Simon knelt over both of them, hands rubbing thighs and stomachs and chests. 

“You both did so well.” His cock was red and dripping precum down the shaft. She reached out for him. He took her hand, kissing her knuckles. “You sure, love? You ready for me, pretty girl?”

“I want both of you. I want it. I want you, Simon.”

He hooked his arms under her armpits and pulled her up. His back against the couch and her straddling him. 

“I want you like this. Want to see your face.” He kissed over Johnny’s marks. Two fingers curled inside of her, scooping out Johnny’s spend. He beckoned the other man over and forced his fingers into his mouth. Johnny’s eyes rolled back as he sucked. “I want you to prep yourself for me. Our girl likes to watch us too.”

She turned red. 

“Think we couldn’t smell you?” He nipped her collarbone with a laugh. “Could smell your sex the whole walk back.” He licked up the column of her throat. “Been dreaming about this.”

She held onto his shoulders as she sank down on his cock. 

“Take it slowly,” he groaned, holding her hips. She did, moaning at every inch that she took inside her. Johnny rubbed her lower back. He had her take Johnny first for a reason. She tried to bury her face in his shoulder and his hand held the back of her head. “I want to look at you.”

He guided her hips, breathing with her till he bottomed out inside her, the head of his cock pressed against her cervix. Her thighs were shaking. 

“My good girl,” He kissed away the sweat droplets on her face. It was slow, him rocking up into her, watching every twitch of her face. Johnny was next to them, laying on his stomach as he stretched himself open on his own fingers. “Can you give me one more, love? Let me fill you up too?”

She nodded slowly. Her nerves felt on edge, sending off random signals to the rest of her twitchy body. Simon kept her clit between two of his fingers, rubbing back and forth. She was building back up, her stomach tightening again. Her limbs felt loose and jellied. 

She arched backwards, her chest pressing against him, Johnny had to stop to help Simon hold her up. She was shaky and whining as Simon pulled her flush against him. His last thrusts were harder, chasing after his pleasure. He growled as he came, his spend mixing with Johnny’s. He let her rest against his shoulder.

“Fuck…You did so well for us, love. How are you feeling?”

“Was it good for ya, bonnie?” 

She couldn’t form words, her mouth opened and closed with smiles and nods of her head. They both chuckled as Simon laid her back down on her pillows. 

“You still feel up to watch?” Simon pushed her hair back. She grinned up at him. “Let’s give her a show, Johnny.”

It was better up close. Simon had a hand around Johnny’s throat, not choking, just holding. His chest against Johnny’s back. The sound of skin slapping against skin and Johnny’s wanton moans. Simon grunted and growled. There was a new warmness inside her. Johnny was holding his cock, letting Simon’s thrust move him back and forth in his own grip. She reached between her legs and scooped up their mixed spend. 

“Oh fuck…Nina.” Johnny moaned, watching her clean her fingers. Simon smirked down at her, picking up his pace. It was salty but not unpleasant. She groaned around her digits. “Si, I’m close. Fuck… please.”

“You going to ruin our girl’s rug?”

“Si, please. I can’t-”

“Ask her where to cum.”

They both looked at her, Johnny pleadingly and Simon with a devilish smirk.

“In my mouth.” Johnny’s head flopped backwards against Simon. 

“C’mere, love.” Simon beckoned. She moved in front of Johnny. It didn’t matter she couldn’t remember the last time she’d done this. It mattered that it was Johnny and Simon. It was their first time. Her first time. Nothing else mattered. It was them, only them.

She opened her mouth and took the head of his cock, swirling her tongue around it. Johnny didn’t last. He came as she licked at his slit, filling her mouth. She looked up at him to watch him crumple. She swallowed him down and cleaned him. Simon grunted harshly and his thrusts stuttered out. 

“Mine,” he growled. “Both mine.”

The three of them collapsed onto the floor, Simon making his way to the middle, tucking them each under an arm. 

“Happy Christmas to us.” Johnny breathed. “I want a fucking cigarette and a glass of whiskey.”

“I have a gift for you first,” Simon said, sitting up. “For both of you but Johnny you’re first.”

“Aye?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I want you to bite me. Mark me. Nina beat me to marking you but… I’m ready. I want it.”

Johnny shot up. She could see the emotions run across his face: surprise, fear, excitement, love.

“Where do you want it?” He smiled. 

Simon stretched his back and arms before pointing towards his trapezius muscle, where his shoulder met his collarbone.

“Don’t get too deep. We ship out in a week.” He turned back to pull her up next to him. “I want you to do the other side. If she gets a necklace, I want this.” 

Johnny grabbed disinfectant and bandages. 

“You sure, Si.”

“More than anything, Johnny.”

Nina held his other arm, both her hands fitting into his one. He squeezed tightly as Johnny bit down on him. He breathed hard through his teeth. She watched his cock twitch as blood ran down his chest. Johnny pulled back, red lipped. 

They cleaned up the bite before Nina went. Johnny held her hair out of the way.

“Right here, love.”

He and Johnny were the only people she ever met that didn’t smell like food. Though her mouth had never watered more than right before she sank her teeth into Simon. Johnny moaned behind her. Simon’s hand rested on the back of her head. 

“Good girl,” he breathed. She pulled away and was immediately pulled into a kiss by Johnny. It was the second time she’d tasted both of them at once. This one was sweeter. 

“Me next.” Johnny laughed. “Thinkin of havin ya take a chunk outta my arse.”

“Price won’t grant you leave again, even if you can’t sit down.”

“Here then.” He patted his upper arm, “I’ll have you and Nina on the same arm.”

Nina wiped it off with disinfectant.

“Thank you, nurse.” He tapped her nose playfully. He leaned close, “If you want one too, you can.”

“I don’t know where I want it.” She wanted it to be somewhere she could always feel them but nowhere Price could see. A secret for the three of them. 

“You have time to think. We won’t rush.”

“I wouldn’t mind biting your arse-fuck me!” Simon bit down on Johnny’s arm, his eyes rolling back as blood filled his mouth. 

Johnny panted as Simon cleaned up the wound. Nina cleaned up Simon’s face. 

They laid on the floor, Simon pulling a blanket off the couch to cover them up. Nina was spread out over top of them. They were tangled together, not sure which limb belonged to who. 

“I love both of ya,” Johnny said, squeezing each of their hands. “So much actually.”

She’d heard it before from others but it didn’t matter because it didn’t come from either of them before so it was the first time it mattered.

“I love you, Johnny. I love you, Simon.”

“I love you, Nina. I love you, Johnny.”

Tag list: @gogh-with-the-flow @queen-ilmaree @cathnoneofyourbusiness @pssytrux

[floretspell]

carnal | lascivis

eroscoitus (general, general) terms

[murdrdocs]

hey y’all i’m having vivid luke desires.

[finalxgirl]

This is how I look every time I scroll on tumblr, reblogging more quotes about cannibalism / carnal desire / Richard Siken

(This was totally my Halloween look I did NOT wear for 5 days in row)

[pascalsbby]

CARNAL / 7 : RUIN

Chapter 6 / Masterlist

Summary: 4.5k, f!reader, dark!joel, dbf!joel, try and mess with my birdie again!joel

Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, violence! guns, cum eating, car sex, dominate & aggressive joel, ANGSTTTT

A/N: This is officially the penultimate chapter. The amount of love I’ve been shown over and over again has been so overwhelmingly beautiful, and it all started with Birdie and Joel. I am so thankful for each and every one of you. I’m so nervous to end this. What if it isn’t what you wanted or expected? What if I miss them too much? I guess that’s the point, that love hurts.

But we both know how it goes– I say I want you inside me and you hold my head underwater, I say I want you inside me and you split me open with a knife.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

You huffed at Joel, thinking he wasn’t really asking you to lick his cum from another man’s seat. His demeanor changed, “Don’t make me repeat myself, sweet girl.”

You looked around his face and settled on his drooping bottom lip before he took it between his teeth. “Joel.” A half-whispered and hidden word. You’ve never been able to fill the room with his name the way you want to, the way he fills you, always sneaking away from the crowd and having to whisper it into the palm of his hand– whispering it into the coarse hair at the base of his cock.

He clawed at your ass, making the fat rumble in your soft skin, the slap echoing into the golden hour around the both of you. The streetlights were dim but becoming brighter as the sun sunk and the inevitable end of the party approached. None of the chatter from the backyard mattered, the dog barking a couple of houses down, cars passing a couple streets over. He mattered. You had waited so long to be seen by him again. To be prayed to. To be drooled over. Even the sound of his deeper breathing made the air feel electric. Like breathing it again, mattered. 

You felt like a fucking animal that needed to be leashed to the corner of a heavy table. It took you a while to understand why your body takes over when you’re around him— his depravity was familiar. You saw yourself in him, and that consisted of you both wordlessly pushing down emotions and fucking them out of each other instead, molding into one another in a release of anger, tears, lust. This is how you bond, fucking each other to scare off the elephant in the room. Fucking yourselves when you coulnd’t reach one another.

When his hands were upon you, he was paying attention to you, and Joel paid attention to what made you nearly weep under the weight of his want. It was a fine physical partnership, mostly because whatever he wanted became what you wanted. A blurred line between want and need in Joel-shaped bruises in your fat.

His big, brown eyes were gracing your body, searching, as if he was looking for any sign that another man had been here. You stick your tongue out and stare at him before digging your nose into John’s seat, your breath hitting the leather as you slide your tongue through his cum. You would do anything to make him happy. He knows that. He loves this.

You want him to love you.

He does.

You gag.

Quietly, you reminded Joel that you were in someone else's truck. 

“Gotta go back before someone comes out here. Don’t want John to catch us, Joel.”

He scoffed. 

“Wish he fucking would. Then he could see me buried in my pretty pussy.”

You could see Joel behind you, blocked slightly as you hear his cock hit his stomach and he sighs in relief, his veiny length thick and unshy. He whimpered as he slid his wide thumb across his wet tip. His half-breath grumbles were what made your slick drip down your swollen and still-quivering lips.

He bent down and pulled your lips apart, whispering into you, “Look at her, cryin’ for me.” He was a man starved. The cold of the night disappeared as his tongue did the same into you, loud and vile as he sucked around your entire propped up center, not missing one inch of skin inside or out. The feeling of his mustache moving with his lips as he sucks on you, tickles you, is too much. You come on his beard, flattened to his face, messy and wet from devouring you.

“Doin’ s’good, cleaning up Daddy’s mess n’ letting him clean you up, too.” He stretched his palm across your head and pressed your tongue and nose into his cum once again. And you let him. 

Joel heard a car unlock and his hand was immediately pulling your hair knotted in his knuckles backward, your face pulling up from the leather seat with force, startled that he might get caught. For Joel to be caught at the scene of his crimes? That was unheard of. 

You heard the zip of his pants before his hands were back on you, warm, and pulling down your dress in a hurry. His thumb missed at first, dipping into your mouth before moving across your lower lip, trying to smudge the spend away that was still dripping down your chin. With one hand entangled in your hair and his other smeared with his cum, he did what he had to do, leaning into you as he licked himself off of your chin seconds before it dripped between your breasts. 

He growled at the taste of himself mixed with your skin. Soft, salty. Carnal. Unintentional, like his body forced it outwards because it was too heavy to carry alone. Like even he was slightly surprised at what he’d just done. But it’d been months since your skin was between his teeth, and he’d trace every bulging vein down your neck with his tongue if you would just call his name, Joel Joel Joel. 

There was silence, birds chirping in the trees, and another pair of cowboy boots knocking against the pavement. You knew that cadence well, they sounded just like the ones currently gracing Joel’s feet. 

“Miller!” You jumped at the intense intrusion and then tried to relax your shoulders before they swallowed your ears and gave away your guilt.

A man walked towards the both of you as Joel pushed your body away from him, discreetly but not gentle enough as you tried to regain your standing. You didn’t know the man’s name but he was usually at these backyard parties. How many middle-aged men live in this fucking neighborhood? 

“Be careful sweetheart, can’t have you falling. Don’t wanna have to carry you back in there to your daddy with a busted knee.” Too many. 

You opened your mouth to tell this man that your daddy wouldn’t give a fuck. The person who would is the one standing right next to you. 

Joel huffed, then coughed. A warning. The man moved topics quickly as if he vaguely understood. 

“Haven’t seen you around the shop recently, Hana’s been asking where you’ve been.” His attention returned to Joel.

“Hana?” You scoffed, out loud. You were out of place and awkward, standing smaller than both of them. This conversation was meant for the men. 

“‘Must be one of Sarah’s friends! Haven’t seen ya around and Hana knows so many people it’s hard to keep up sometimes.”

What a proud father. 

I wonder how entitled he would be to share that information if he knew that Hana was once (probably not shy of ten times actually, knowing anything about Joel) speared on his wet cock instead of babysitting, as she had most likely claimed? You wonder if he knows that Joel’s cock has been buried inside of your warmth, too. A few minutes ago, actually. With the way you are both standing, hidden by a truck door, missing from the party for nearly twenty minutes. 

“I’ve just been keeping my head down Drew, working, you know. But I’ll drop by soon, I need to fix a broken toilet in the upstairs bathroom and I need a flange replacement.”

“Well we’re always open for you Joel, you know that. Don’t be a stranger.” With that, he looked between the two of you and you swore recognition flashed in his eyes before he patted Joel on the shoulder and walked towards your back gate. 

I wonder if he knows, you thought. Men tend to stay quiet for each other like that. Having each other's backs regardless of it means choosing him over your own daughter. Especially if it means keeping it out of the public eye. It’s easier to call your daughter a liar than to deal with the ‘consequences’ of her reality.

“Not the only thing that’s always open it seems.” You mumbled, immediately hoping that he didn't hear it. How utterly unfeminist of you to blame the girl. You weren’t any different than her; enamored, prayed to… paid. But it seems like he brings out the worst in you. But being the worst is better than whatever empty shell has been dragging its way through whatever the fuck these past twenty-something years have been. 

You have the crashing realization that you feel alive with him. The blood coursing through your body has purpose, now.

As soon as the top of the man’s head disappeared through the fence, Joel started in on you. Best to put a child in their place before they have a chance to speak and form a conclusion of their own, no? You recognized the bad in him, yet you still let it devour you. 

“This what you wanted, Birdie? For people t’ know? Dropping little hints like it’s your fuckin’ job, huh? First you make sure I walk in on whatever the fuck was going on with John… knew I’d be back there so you knocked on the neighbor's door and asked him to fuck you with his eyes in front of your family? In front of me?” Pointing at his stuffed chest. He was so much taller than you but it wasn't something you thought of often until he towered over you. You knew there was more to this than a random man and a disgusted accidental namedrop of his previous fuck toy. 

“Then…” he looked around, trying to gain composure before scolding you like a child, ”then you make me come out here and lose myself in you again?” 

“Make you? You fucking followed me out here, Joel.”

“Lower your goddamn voice, Birdie. I came out here because I knew you wanted me to.”

He was right. About all of it. You can’t be alone for long. You need something or someone there sitting just on the outside to remind you that you aren’t dissipating into the floor of your bedroom.

Maybe that’s why you never saw Joel coming, either, because the quicksand was already up to your knees and no one in your life ever taught you how to save yourself, they had only taught you that they would not be the ones to pull you to safety. You knew you wouldn’t be able to save yourself, either.

The way he sticks to you makes you feel taken care of and looked after. He treats you like a woman in need of guidance, but he never judges you for it. Unless he’s scolding you, in that case you feel like a child again. It feels nice to feel like a child around him, because you know that in one way or another he will hold you like one too, once it’s all said and done.

Then he wasn’t anywhere to be found. So of course you did what you know, offering your body to whomever would most closely fill the Joel-shaped hole. You hoped that he would be here to see that you had indeed found another man, and this one could stand before your family. Now, Joel is standing right in front of you. It’s been months… and you hate him. You hate him so bad that the hate has turned to love.

You love him.

“Yes Joel, I want you. I need you. I have needed you this whole time you were probably off filling some other twenty-something year old. But fuck, I want you to get a fucking grip. You left me.” Desperate and too loud. “For months. I needed you and you just left me. I thought you would be the one who wouldn’t leave me. I lost Sarah too. My best fucking friend. And you know how much I hate this fucking house and I haven’t even been writing or painting and–”

You had never actually spoken to him about it all. But he knew. You were tired of arguing, of never being right. Of always being treated like a child but expected to act like an adult. 

He filled the immediate silence, but his tone was more tender this time. 

“You thought I was with another woman?” He looked as if you may have well dug your hands into his chest and tore him limb from limb.

Each month without him an envelope would show up, usually on a Thursday. Those used to be your days. It was shoved into your window pane accompanied by a soft knock. You never caught him despite the foul amount of time you spent looking out the window, waiting for him to come and save you again. You didn’t even need rent money anymore but it was always there and he never was. You were saving it in a hidden box with to get the fuck out of here scribbled in thick black marker on one side. 

You thought about just showing up, as it wasn’t something he himself was ever opposed to when it came to you. Except for when you really wanted him too. Needed him too.

Last month you couldn’t sleep and the edibles were making you more restless than relaxed. You got up at 4:24 am and sat yourself down at your desk, got out an old notebook and picked up a pen for the first time since graduating. You started a note to Sarah that still sits unfinished on the second page of the college-ruled journal. 

I saw it in his eyes, Sarah. It started months ago, before he left the first time and this was all still a secret. When I saw him again… you were looking down and trying not to let the tear slide down your cheek and into the black ink. That would be weak of you, to deliver a note to your lover's daughter and have it soiled with your tears, while apologizing for the pain you caused her.

I swear I saw it swell and dare itself to fall out of his eyes right then and there; love. And I’m so sorry for hurting you. I felt seen and heard. I felt held, Sar.

You accepted his angry disappointment and let it lay over you like a blanket, familiar. It meant he was there, he was in reach and your fingers could get lost in the curls on the back of his head. So you sat there and admired the wrinkles between his glaring eyes. Beautiful fucking eyes. Indulgent, and prodigal in the way he refuses to let you go. He lowered his voice and moved his curls out of his face. 

“Do you know how much of my life I’ve risked to put you first? It cost me my daughter’s trust. She will never look at me the same again. And my pride,” he said your name and his jaw hardened, the apparent sour taste of you leaving his mouth, “my pride baby girl. Do you know how much it hurts me that you just found another man?”

You were crying, the tears warming the red of your embarrassed face. He had done his shaming, his job at keeping you in your place. Now he would complete the circle like a snake eating its own tail.

He will tear you limb from limb knowing that his warmth is the only thing able to glue you back together; then he will pull you into his core and comfort you. You will be five, seventeen, twenty-five, in his arms.

It would be hard to tell what he was feeling if you didn’t know him, but you do, and his sadness is so discreetly and gently placed under the cover of his angry brown eyes. Your tears turned to sobbing and it all felt like it was going to fall out of you and onto the ground in front of his feet.

“Stop cryin’.”

He reached down and started low, tracing his thick fingers up your inner thigh, tickling against his carved initials and causing your clit to swell. He lowered his voice and spoke to you like you were a child in trouble.

Here it is, the wordless apology. Touching and heavy breathing.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about opening that computer and clicking on your name again? Just to hear the mess your pussy makes when it sees me? How you pool around the base of whatever cock you decided to stuff yourself with that night and then regret it because it wasn’t mine.”

“Fuck.” It left your lips with a moan and an even bigger sob that you could no longer hold inside. He didn’t flinch and didn’t show any sign of acting on his movements rather than to tease you, see if he went too far or if you would still melt under his stained black work hands.

He moved one finger down the ticklish part of your neck and traced your skin to your hip. Then he removed his touch from your skin and once again stepped backward. Like a father’s friend should stand.

He got what he wanted out of you, always does. And most of the time you yearn for the ache in your knees on the rare occasions you don’t give in. Giving in meant pleasure, but it was always accompanied by pain when it came to him. 

It was a consistent push and pull, give and take. He was so generous in the beginning, giving his money, time, and his cum, all in your name. He knew that to win you over you have to first, give. Now he takes and you happily oblige.

He has a unique knowledge of you, one that you really didn’t even recognize in yourself. Which is ironic, considering all you do is sit and burrow in your own psychoanalyzation. Trauma recognizes itself, even when it isn't directly yours. He had been around long enough to recognize himself in you. 

Then, you heard the end cadence of your name.

As he stepped backwards the footsteps stopped behind the two of you. Caught. And you prayed to a God you knew wouldn’t answer that it wasn’t your dad. 

Neither of you turned around to face him.

“Knew you’d go right back and fall down on all fours for him when you had the chance. God,” John laughed, “you’re a fucking whore. N’ not even the good kind that’ll suck your dick when you ask. I asked nicely, didn’t I? But not nice enough. Unless you’re Joel of course.”

And suddenly it didn’t matter that this was to all be a secret. You, standing a few cars down from your front door, hair a mess and cherry-flavored chapstick smudged down your face. Joel’s cum hardened where his tongue missed. Mascara running down your redended cheeks from either being fucked too well or from the tears that were starting to well up in your eyes again.

There was a high pitched buzzing as your body recognized the danger and began to shut down, watching Joel’s back muscles flinch in anger as he made his way over to John. You knew how deeply Joel was able to feel, and hate was probably not excluded from that depth. 

It wasn’t a secret anymore the moment his knuckles cracked against the fat of John’s cheek, seconds before he was on the ground. The birds stopped singing into the night. 

Here he was, standing up for you like someone should have done since you took your first goddamn steps. But you were yelling at him to stop. Someone finally came to save you and you were telling him to stop. He was starting in again, pulling his fist back and clenching his jaw, preparing for the impact to hurt him too. But his pain didn’t matter when it came to you

“You think you’re gonna talk to her like that and get away with it? Oh you’ve fuckin’ lost your god damn mind. I really shoulda punched you in your ugly fucking face when you had it in my truck window all those months ago. Spare me the time. Say another word towards her and I will make a pretty painting with your face on this concrete.”

“Oh, but she wasn’t in pain whenever she was calling my name instead of yours. That pussy tastes like goddamn honey, Jo—”

One thing you loved to do was have Joel hold his palm out and let you sit your face in it. It was bigger than your face, but it was warm and strong. Safe. You knew deep down that it was capable of hurting someone but death had not crossed your mind, not until John lay wheezing on the ground, laughing. Half-dead from Joel’s blows, not even able to prepare as he took in a deep breath and got ready to fire again.

Up until this moment you felt like you were a good person to have in life-threatening situations, always level headed and use to immense stress, but for the first time in your life everything around you was moving in slow motion.

You turned and watched as the white of your front door turned black, opening, and it felt like the moment Joel showed up the first (second) time at the gallery. But this felt like a last time type of feeling. It felt like an ending. 

“Joel,” you pushed out.

He didn’t even react to your voice. He simply acted as if he’s never heard it. As if it hadn’t, alone, made him rock his hips into whatever the fuck he could fit between the past three months. 

“Joel, stop. Someone is coming outside. Please stop. Joel.” Sobs were getting caught in your throat. You started to walk towards him, to set yourself in front of John if that meant that he would stop.

“Birdie, turn around.” You don’t listen, walking towards him. “I said turn arou—“

Another voice broke through. The one you thought you might have heard first. The voice of the first man to ever break your heart. The one who only spoke out in anger. The one who should have been throwing punches at himself all of these years. 

“Joel Miller what the fuck are you doing?” He had his pistol by his side. Must have heard the yelling and screaming, and if there is anything a Texas man loves more than the possibility of getting to shoot someone off of his property… 

Your dad called your name second, expecting an answer. And now you wished you wouldn’t have tried to stop Joel so that John wasn’t able to open his own mouth and speak the truth you both had been hiding. 

You’re eight again, and the sound of his knuckles against the kitchen counter were reverberating through the empty theater atop your head. The only person gracing the red lined theater seats is you. Small, child you, looking at the screen and out the front of your head. 

“She—“ John is stuttering through already swollen and broken lips, Joel shakes him as a warning not to open his mouth further, “she’s fucking him.”

Silence. Other people had followed your dad outside, including your mother. Admist the audience was Sarah, who you had not known was here the entire time. Her face was twisted in pain, and you knew that this was your fault. This was more pain for her and it was all because of you.

It was quiet, everyone was in shock, besides the night birds singing. The hum of the orange streetlights above. Joel’s heavy breathing and John’s slight wheezing from being hit over and over and—

Your dad’s jaw sits tight. He opened his mouth and the sky felt like it was going to fall. 

“Excuse me?” That was a threat and his body was closing in on Joel imminently. People were yelling, but it sounded far away. He cocked his gun and the clicking was drowned out by your mothers screaming. 

“I fucking knew something was happening. How dare you, you sick fuck.”

You begged, talking fast, “Dad stop. John thinks he saw something but Joel was helping me find my keys I dropped in the truck. He came here to leave but I asked him to help me instead.”

You knew what came next—always had. Because proverbial fists were for the women of his life. Actual fists were for the men. Bullets were for his inflated masculine ego.

“Dad, plea–” 

“You shut the fuck up.” He was talking to you. 

Joel’s boots were hitting the ground again as he dropped John’s collar, closing in on your dad. He managed to grab Joel by his shoulders before he could submit him to the same fate as John.

“I don’t care if you are her Daddy, you better not ever speak to her like that again.” His strong nose was pushing into your dads, eye to eye.

“Her sayin’ not to talk to you, spending time over at your house. Does Sarah know?”

His finger pushed up against Joel’s chest.

“That’s my daughter Joel. Do you want me to prance down the street and right through your front door to fuck your daughter right under your nose?”

He lifted the gun towards Joel and you were screaming. It took a moment to register that it was you, your throat burning as Sarah screamed behind you. 

Of course it would be this man to take Joel away from you.

Joel huffed a deep and viscous laugh. He looked over to you for the first time in minutes and pain filled his eyes. But they were wide open and focused on the gun pointed directly at his head. You nodded towards him for some reason, giving him permission for whatever he was about to say. 

“You know what? I fucking dare you to kill me for being the only one here that has ever taken care of your daughter, you motherfucker.”

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

A long and sappy thank you / 1K followers post is coming soon 😚

Taglist: @strang3lov3 @chaotic-mystery @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @rubyfruitjungle @leeeesahhh @blackvelveteen1339 @huffle-punk @ssssc0m @paleidiot @sarap-77 @silkiers @gracevn @scarletsloveletter @livingdeadmaria @morallyinept @kittenprincess710 @jubilee82 @cool-iguana @vickywallace @capitulo3-celos @taeslarityy @moonlightdreamingworld @worhols @milla-frenchy @sheepdogchick3 @gasolinerainbowpuddles @justagalwhowrites

[c4rn4l]

dumb drooling dog

[underthenightskydreamsneverdie]

Carnal, chapter three

Summary: Sparks fly between Mattheo Riddle and Daisy Waters aboard the Hogwarts Express

Warnings: 18+, at least one mention of his cock, but mostly cuteness, fluff, Daisy using her wolf senses

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x f!OC Daisy Waters

Word count: 1322

A/N: This chapter is so cute I wanna cry. Also, I'm not sure where I got the idea that Mattheo is left handed from, but I'm making it true for this fic.

Divider Credit to @enchanthings

Find chapter one here Find chapter two here

Chapter one/character mood boards here Chapter two mood board here Chapter three mood board here

Tag list: @helendeath , @sylviaonyx , @secret-sophieee , @hotcinnam0nspicy , @evaslytherpuff ,

In a small compartment aboard the Hogwarts Express, Daisy waited impatiently. Every few minutes she would lift her head, take a deep breath, and inhale all the scents platform 9 ¾ had to offer, searching for one person in particular. I know this boy is not about to miss the damn train. She tried not to fiddle with the silver wrapped packages on the small table in front of her, instead tapping her nails on the table. 

When a group of younger students tried to enter the compartment she quickly shut them down and sent them on their way. Sighing as the door closed she looked back to the open window, taking another deep breath. Grumbling as she didn’t pick him up yet again, she started to doubt herself. Pinpointing his location in only a couple hundred students was easy, but a couple thousand strangers, that may be asking too much of her only slightly enhanced human nose. 

Rising to her feet she opened the compartment door, leaning against the door frame. It was so noisy out in the hallway, she almost couldn’t take it. Closing her eyes, she listened hard, blocking out every noise she eliminated. No, he wasn’t here. Wait. The sound of a pounding heartbeat caught her attention. Ducking back inside she moved to the window, taking one more deep breath. Yes! There, through the steam and oil, sweat and fear, perfume and cologne, she found him, Mattheo Riddle. Throwing her hands in the air she did a little happy dance, proud of herself and ecstatic to soon be reunited with him. She wanted to rush into the hallway, wrap him in her arms, and have a long overdue heated make out session, but instead she closed the door of her compartment, picked up her book and relaxed in her seat. She knew he would find her when he was ready. 

Desperate to find his Daisy, Mattheo broke off from his friends as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Squeezing past groups of friends spilling into the hall, excited first years running around, and the Honeydukes trolley witch, he searched car after car for her. There has to be a better way. He wanted to simply run the length of the train calling her name but also didn’t want her to know exactly how desperate he was for her company. 

Finally, he found her, in the last car he searched. At first he thought she was asleep, curled up with her bare feet on the seat, a large book resting on her legs. But then she turned onto her back, raising the book into the air and crossing her ankles. It didn’t look very comfortable to him and she must have felt the same because she stood up, nose still buried in her book, and laid down on her stomach facing the window. This seemed to make her happy for a few minutes before she sighed and stood up. He pressed himself into the doorway of the adjoining compartment, not wanting to be caught watching her. The door slowly opened, her sweet voice ringing out into the hallway. 

“If only there were a tall, dark haired man to keep me company on this long, lonely train ride.” She sighed in a dramatic, dreamy way that sent tingles up Mattheos spine and when her hand suddenly jutted out into the hallway he took it eagerly, letting her lead him into the compartment, both of them laughing at how easily she’d caught him. How did she know I was there?

Fighting every instinct that screamed for him to pull her close he sat across from her, searching her face for any sign she was even half as excited to see him. His heart skipped a beat when her lips turned upward into a soft smile, her blue eyes bright with happiness. That smile told him everything; she was fighting just as hard against the invisible pull between them, but she was almost ready to give in. 

“How come you’re on the train today, Daisy? I thought you lived in Hogsmeade.”

“Maybe I wanted to see you…” Yes! “Or maybe I needed things I couldn’t get in town…” Oh. “Or maybe it’s a bit of both…” You little tease. She shrugged and then giggled, the sound of it making his cock twitch. “These are for you.” Her voice was much more sincere as she gently pushed the packages on the table towards him, looking at him excitedly. The telltale sound of pencils rattling in a metal case came from the two smaller packages, making his eyebrows raise momentarily. Did you buy me art supplies?

“For me?” Chuckling as she nodded, he pulled the big package close wondering why she would have bought him something and what it could possibly be. Slipping a finger under the paper he raised an eyebrow, feeling extremely soft leather under his fingertip. A journal, maybe? As the paper fell away he gasped. No, it can’t be. Oh Daisy, you incredible woman. A sketchbook cover, the largest one he’d ever seen, embossed with his initials. Opening it he let out a happy laugh.  She doesn’t miss a thing. It was designed for someone left-handed unlike the mass produced kind he saw in most art supply stores. Did she have this custom made just for me? He stood and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. 

Most of the things he owned had come from Draco, things his cousin had decided he didn’t want. Even Artemis, his beloved owl, had been originally bought for Draco. But this…Daisy had searched out something he was interested in, spent her time thinking of what he would like, and made sure it would be personalized to fit his needs. “Why? This must have cost a fortune, Daisy.” 

She looked up at him, those damn beautiful eyes of hers shining bright as though she thought the answer should have been obvious to him. “When spent for a good reason cost does not weigh heavily on the heart.” 

“But…” 

Her fingers brushed over his lips, stopping his doubt in its tracks. “The cost does not weigh heavily on my heart Mattheo.” 

Why must she be so poetic? “Say it to me plainly, Daisy. I need to be sure I understand.” He did understand, had absolutely no doubts what she meant, but he needed to hear it anyway. 

She took her time responding, tracing his lips with her fingertips, brushing her nose against his jaw. “You’re worth the cost, Mattheo.” 

The way she whispered her words set him on fire and without a second thought he kissed her, moaning as he felt her soft lips, tasted her. It was their first kiss, but it held none of the usual hesitation or shyness, only certainty that this was where they were always meant to be. He kept the kiss soft, loving, pouring all his unspoken affection into it. 

Her soft giggle as they pulled apart made him want to lay her down and take her right there, claim her until they reached the school then get her in his bed and keep going until the sun rose. But, he also wanted to take it slow. Mattheo knew the feelings between them were special, more special than he could comprehend, and it made him want to do this right, love her emotionally before loving her physically.

He sat down, pulling her into his lap, and picking up the sketchbook. “What do you say we break this in, pretty girl?” Snuggling her in even closer to him they spent the next few hours laughing and exchanging little kisses as he sketched. She eventually fell asleep, face pressed against the crook of his neck. Setting his pencil down, one of the two dozen high quality sketching type she had bought him, he wrapped his arms around her, sighing happily and closing his eyes as well.

[random-xpressions]

I'm at my peak but are you a good mountain-climber? I promise you heights!

Random Xpressions

[bloodyknucklesforme]

I Know I've Kissed You Before | Carnal XVII

Carnal (adjective) : relating to or given to crude bodily pleasures and appetites

The aftermath of the hunt

Masterpost

CW: cannibalism, rape mention, smut

This is very much a horror fic mostly based around the films Raw (2017) and Bones and All (2022), if you sit through those you should be good here. This is my first horror fic.

Chapter Title Credit: Pink in The Night by Mitski

In his dreams she was a rabbit and he was a dog. His mouth clenched tightly around her neck. She was screaming and fighting, kicking at his chest until she could do nothing but twitch. Blood dribbled from her mouth and onto the stone as he dropped her at Simon’s feet. 

“Good boy.” Simon patted his head before scooping her up with a tea towel. He followed inside to the kitchen where he laid her on the butcher block. He drooled onto the floor as Simon snapped her neck and began to dress her, loud tears as her fur and skin was ripped from her meat. When he cut her open it wasn’t the normal mess of organs, just a constant flow of warm, red blood. It flooded over the edge of the block and onto the floor where he hungrily licked it up. It tasted like vanilla. 

He was alone when he woke up. The rest of the bed empty and made. Simon’s doing. The room still smelled like him and Nina. Sweet and woody. He got up and found a pair of sweats before making his way downstairs. He could smell tea - black and sweet. 

Downstairs had a cold draft, he followed it outside where Simon sat on one of the iron patio chairs with Nina tucked into his lap wrapped in a quilt. Her blonde hair stuck out in messy tangles. She was taking small sips out of a steaming mug while Simon’s sat on the ground beside them. They weren’t talking. Simon stared out towards the garden and field into the woods. . It was barely dusk and the first snow of the season had started over night leaving a dusting of white over the browned landscape. 

“Good morning.” Johnny said to announce himself. Nina perked up and reached out for him. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. Her face was more scratched up than he noticed last night. There was still a smear of black makeup around her eyes. 

Guilt gnawed at him. He shouldn’t have let her go alone. He should have gone looking for her sooner. The rage he felt when he turned the corner, saw the man from earlier and smelled the blood. He was at the end of the hall faster than he could think, a knife pulled from his pocket. He’d been trained to kill. He was a soldier. His speciality was clearing buildings, fast and cleanly. He shredded that man. His hands were shaking. If he had more time he would have torn him apart slowly, ripping skin off with his teeth . He only stopped stabbing because the blade broke off. 

Simon was the one who rescued her. He had the sense to open the door and find her. Seeing her face down on the ground, made his stomach twist. He thought he was too late. He could still smell the blood on her. On all of them. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked. Simon’s free hand had found itself on the small of Johnny’s back, pulling him in closer till the iron arm of the chair dug into his leg. 

“I’m okay.” She said softly. “Tired still.”

Simon pulled her closer to him as well, letting her head rest against his shoulder. Johnny leaned against the chair, his hand holding the base of Simon’s neck. It felt natural for the three of them to be like this, holding onto each other. 

He couldn’t say he was a good partner. He must have done something wrong for Simon to leave him or to make Nina think he’d leave her. He tried, was attentive, empathetic, dedicated. Maybe loyal to a fault. He’d followed Simon around like a dog for those Spring and Summer months. Got kicked like one too. 

He wouldn’t let her hunt again. He didn’t want to make rules for her after his injury and what happened last night, Simon seemed to be the only one fit to do it. His grip on Simon tightened to steady his shaking hand. He didn’t want to lose either of them. 

“Let’s get you inside.” Simon said not to either of them in particular. “Johnny grab the tea.”

He carried their mugs inside while Simon carried Nina. She was wearing some clothes at least. Looked like his boxers and a sweater. Simon was only wearing boxers. Crazy get. 

They set her up on the couch in the living room. Tea in arms reach. 

“Johnny and I will make breakfast. Call if you need anything.” Simon rubbed her cheek with his knuckles. A couple days ago he would have gaped at this show of affection, now he felt like Simon was the only one worthy to give it. 

Johnny sat at the little table, staring into his tea. Scottish breakfast with cream and honey. Simon was always good at the little details.

Eggs and what looked like bacon were cooking on a pan on the stove. 

Two hands laid on his shoulders, rubbing the muscles. 

“How’s my boy?”

“Not well…” Johnny admitted. His hands were shaking again. Residual rage coursed through him thinking about how that man was in the basement, locked away in the freezer. He couldn’t hurt her yet he still wanted to cut him to pieces. Make sure he could never come back. Burn it all, let the wind take it away. 

“She’s safe now.” Simon cupped Johnny’s face and turned to face him.. “We protected her. We got her home. We killed the cunts that hurt her and we’ll do it again if we need to.”

Johnny pressed his forehead against Simon’s. He didn’t remember the last time they touched like this. That cottage by the sea, blood still on their lips with Simon slotted between his legs. He wanted to crawl back into bed with Nina at his front and Simon at his back. He wanted to taste them both at once. He wanted to keep Nina and take back Simon. Eating his cake over and over again.  

“The food’s burning…” He choked out. He wanted to kiss him, let him fuck his worries away. Johnny’s hand was on Simon’s chest, palm over his heart. 

“Go keep her company.” He nodded. “I’ll bring breakfast in a bit.”

She was still curled up where he left her - knees tucked to her chest. Johnny sat down next to her and helped her into his lap. His hand rubbing her back under the quilt. He kissed along her hair line. “I got’cha. Not letting go.” 

Her quietness stung. She was never chatty like him but she’d whisper and giggle to him. He would mould himself to her, wrap himself around her to keep her safe and warm. Hand feed her, breath from his mouth.

She turned and hugged him, legs around his waist and her face in the crook of his neck. He pulled the quilt over both of them.

“We won’t leave ya, Neen. You’re our girl.” Our girl… not just his. His and Simon’s. Their girl. 

Simon brought breakfast in on a tray. 3 plates with eggs, bacon and toast. Johnny fed Nina, letting her relax against his chest. Simon fed him, sat next to the two of them, resting his free arm along Johnny’s shoulders. 

“I want a bath,” She said untangling herself from him. Her legs were covered in bruises. Johnny wanted to kiss each one, a healing touch. 

“I’ll clean up.” Simon said, gathering the plates. He nodded his head for Johnny to follow her. 

She liked the water hot and he winced as he got into the tub with her. His legs stinging. 

“You’re gonna cook us both.” He chuckled, kissing her shoulder. 

“Simon…he kissed me last night or this morning. I don’t really know what time it was.”

“Oh…err… did you want him to?” He tried to overcome the wave of nausea that hit him. Not out of jealousy, worry maybe. 

“I guess… I wasn’t really thinking about it. I couldn’t sleep so he took me downstairs and I ate and then he kissed me. I was worried you’d be upset… I don’t really know what we all are.”

It was a good question.

“I think if we want, the three of us can be something together.”

“Is that something people do?”

“We’re the only people like us so I don’t think it matters what other people do.”

“I think I’d like that. Being with both of you… up until last night I thought Simon didn’t like me very much.”

“That’s just how he is. Took us almost dying for him to admit he liked me.” 

She giggled at that, leaning back against his chest. He washed her hair for her. Washed her face and body. He piled bubbles up on top of her head just to make her smile. He helped dry her hair and wrapped her in a towel. Got new clothes for her. His shirt and her panties. He tucked her back into bed. Rubbed her back until she fell asleep. 

Simon was watching from the doorway. 

“Thought she’d be worse.” He said, shutting the door behind Johnny. 

“She’s tough.” He said. “Wish I’d done more to protect her.”

“We won’t let it happen again.” Simon took a step forward, backing Johnny against the wall. “You ripped that cunt to pieces, Johnny.”

He closed his eyes and breathed Simon in. Cedar swirling around in his head like a boa constrictor.

“You kissed her?”

“Jealous?”

“Of her.” He admitted. “I miss yo-”

Simon’s mouth was on his. Commanding and all consuming. Memories of this time last year flooded his head. The two of them in dive bars and club corners. In cars and alleyways. Simon inside him. Johnny in his mouth. 

“What did I do wrong?” He broke, holding Simon back. “Last Summer. What did I do?”

He wouldn’t fuck it up again.

“You didn’t do anything, Johnny.” Simon kissed him again. It didn’t settle his soul. Johnny was a weak man though, he knew that much, because he ignored it and kept his mouth on Simon’s. He missed the taste, the feel, the warmth. 

“I want you.” He breathed. “I want you so much.” 

He might cry if he was rejected now. 

“Not here. Don’t want to wake her. We���ll go to the stables.”

Johnny nodded. 

Simon having lube on hand didn’t surprise Johnny. He was moaning shamelessly, bent over the counter of the tack room. Simon had already worked two fingers inside of him. His legs were shaking, Simon was pressed against him, hunched over his body, grunting dirty things in his ear. 

“Tight as ever, Johnny.” 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” he prayed. Simon’s fingers scissored inside him, gently stretching him open. Almost four months without. He would have treasured their last time if he knew it was the last. In the sand, at sunset, on the beach down the trail from their rented cottage. Romantic actually. More than this was. 

“Missed this.” Simon breathed, nipping at Johnny’s ear. “Missed splitting you open.”

Precum dripped against the front of the cabinet. He was glad Nina never came in here. Less worry for cleaning up. His mind still floats around her. He’d like to have his head between her thighs right now. It might be the only thing to make this better, trapped between the two of them. 

“Where you drifting off to, Johnny?” Simon tugged on his hair. It was longer than he preferred but Simon always liked something to hold. “You thinking about her?”

“Yeah…” He shuddered. Simon’s hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him teasingly. 

“You wish she was here too?”

“Yes.” 

Simon lined himself up with Johnny’s hole. Drool ran from his mouth onto the counter. He was white knuckling the edge. He needed this more than air, more than meat. 

“Close your eyes, Johnny. Think of Nina.” He licked behind Johnny’s ear, melting him. It burned in a familiar good way like holding your hand too close to a fire. 

“Fuc…k simon. Fuck please.”He keened. 

“I got you, Johnny. Just relax.” He pumped him faster, timing it with his thrusts. “I’ll take care of you.”

Johnny’s eyes rolled back into his head, letting Simon take control of his body and mind.

It was almost lunch time when they got back to the house. Nina was still asleep. 

“Clean up. Then bring her down for lunch.” Simon said, kissing his temple before disappearing downstairs.

“Hey, love. How are you feeling?” Johnny brushed the hair out of her face. She blinked up at him with a frown.

“You smell like Simon.” He turned red. She cupped his cheek. “You’re pretty when you’re embarrassed.”

There was a torso sitting on the butcher block in the kitchen. Simon had his usual array of knives sitting out next to it. Nina leaned closer to him. 

“C’mere. Both of you.” Simon nodded. 

Nina stood between them, a hand in each of their pockets to steady herself. 

“It’s okay.” Johnny cooed, rubbing her shoulder.

“Cut it, Nina.” Simon offered her the knife. 

“No,no, I… I can’t.” She was blocked from moving by Simon’s arm gripping her waist. He leaned over her, their foreheads almost touching.

“You can and you will. This is your kill. You took the first bite. You need to do it. There’s no difference between this and what you did last night.” Johnny wrapped his arm above Simon’s and kissed her shoulder. “He was going to rape you, Nina. He was going to rape you and then gut you.”

She held back a gag and turned away, tears pricking her eyes. Simon grabbed her chin and forced her to look back at him.

“I ate the men who raped me.” Johnny bit his tongue to hold back any look of shock or horror at Simon’s words. “Animals get treated like animals. Cut him and eat.”

Nina took the knife in a shaking hand. Simon held his hand over hers to steady it and motioned for Johnny to do the same. He’d seen couples do this to cut cakes at weddings. Tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“You can do it,” Johnny soothed. 

They followed her hand as she cut down into the muscle.

“There you go,” Simon cooed, kissing her tears away.  “I need to know you’ll be able to take care of yourself when we’re gone. My brave girl.”

Nina’s tears were replaced with an angry frown as she cut. A righteous anger that steadied her hand.

They butchered him together. Till the torso was broken down to pieces, wrapped in paper and twine with Simon’s handwritten labels. 

 When it was done they sat together in the living room. Nina’s head in Johnny’s lap and her legs in Simon’s. He pet her hair while Simon rubbed her legs. 

“I’m sorry, Simon.” She said softly. “I didn’t know.”

“No one does…did. Just you two.” He shrugged. Johnny leaned his head against Simon’s shoulder, nuzzling him. Simon wrapped his arm around Johnny. “You’re a fighter, Nina. You have to be.”

It started to snow again. 

Tag list: @gogh-with-the-flow @queen-ilmaree @cathnoneofyourbusiness @pssytrux