#chews through block of wood

[potatobugz]

ohhh thinking about jay in skybound. that fucking eyepatch. ohhh ohhhhh

[prael]

Delicacy

ILLIT Moka x male reader smut

Happy (kinda late) Moka Day!

Masterlist word count: 5,401 Kofi(donations/commissions)

"Ladies and-a gen-entleman! Step right up! Ge-get yourself a-a mystical item today!" The old Murgo's voice is loud, his tone is jovial. His accent is hard to understand and his stuttering speech patterns would indicate a man who is not well-educated, though you've always expected he puts it all on for show.

His skin is scruffy, full of moles and unkempt facial hair that creeps down to his thin neck. The elderly man's uniform consists of a long, purple-sleeved coat—sleeves that fall every time he waves an arm at the next item he tries to flog.

"Y-you sir! Consider this, this is truly a-a magical mirror, for as long as you lo-look into it, it will make you b-beautiful." He smiles at the group before him, pearly white teeth contrasting with his murky skin colour. They are the only noteworthy things about him, other than his height, a whole foot smaller than the usual man.

The rough-looking labourer by your side mumbles, "What a crock of shit!"

While the bald man at the front calls "I'll take it!"

Murgo, as Murgo so often does, announces the catch, "Very wise pu-purchase. Now, just remember, the m-magic only works if you look a-at in complete darkness."

Murgo collects his due payment and the man at your side shakes his head as he turns away. "Idiots," he grumbles before he walks away.

"You there!" Murgo singles you out. "Do you fancy trying a-anything?" He asks you with a smile.

Murgo's entire stall is packed full of oddities, and none of them are ever what they seem. You may not believe in Murgo's little items, but it's always interesting to come and see what he has to sell today. It's nice to consider his fantastical excuses and embellishments.

"M-may I interest you in a fan-antasy?" He sing-songs. "You must ha-have a wish to make come true? Consider this ma-magical music box! One wish! M-Make it come true!" He boasts about another silly item, something that always leaves you rolling your eyes. Wishes cannot be bought.

"Tha-that's a look of uncertainty. Well, how about this." Murgo holds out a hand containing a single chocolate. A perfect, colourful item shaped like a square. "Gen-entleman, please m-may I present, a most magical item to y-your attention! A chocolate! Bu-but not any chocolate! They say this one tastes of m-mocha, and its ingestion a-allows you to live a fantasy."

You scrunch your brow.

"Ingested fantasies might seem an im-impossibility, but I have p-proven through a rigorous scientific process..."

You know he's lying, as always, but you're not about to interrupt though. You doubt the old man actually has much training in anything even related to science, and everything about him can only lead you to believe that he doesn't own many resources to test things on anyway.

"...so, sir, I urge you!" Murgo finishes his meaningless rambling by saying, "Try and taste your fondest dream. Try the ma-magical wonder and live a dream so real, so plausible that y-you'll forget who you are!"

Live a dream so real... He's definitely lying, but you are curious as to the taste of his chocolate.

Your eyes switch from Murgo's insistent, excited stare to his chocolate, and back to Murgo's knowing smile. "Just this once," you tell him.

-

You sit at your kitchen table, staring at the little rectangular block that rests on the wood.

"A fantasy, huh?" you contemplate. You lean in close and give it a sniff; it certainly smells like chocolate, with a hint of mocha.

Shrugging, you hold up the chocolate and drop it into your mouth. Immediately, it melts away and you're overpowered by the delicious flavour. It's milk chocolate, but you find hints of cocoa and coffee mixed between your lips.

You chew a few times and then swallow. At that moment, Murgo's words ring around your mind. 'Live a dream so real,' they repeat.

You sit and you wait. Staring expectantly at the table, you blink blankly at the slab where the chocolate once rested. You tap your fingers. You scratch the back of your neck. And still, nothing.

"Wow." You shake your head, chastising yourself for thinking so optimistically, and push out the chair.

As you stand, your head spins. The world about you warps into another form, a dark space resembling nothing you have ever seen.

The ground crunches beneath your feet. Gravel, perhaps? Black grazes at the surface, but you can't quite make out any details. As if a curtain has fallen to obscure your vision.

You spin around and wave your hands to find a purchase with something.

And then you feel it. Feel... her?

Small, smooth hands in your own. They let go before too long, and then those hands brush up your forearms.

A shadowed girl—clearly a girl by her soft curves—gently touches your cheek, and you grab her hand again. A soft gasp escapes her, and then she giggles. "Do you know how hard it's been, to be stuck inside a piece of chocolate? Of course, you don't. Why would you?"

This... isn't real. Could you be dreaming? Could you be high, or drunk, or passed out? Perhaps poisoned? You bring your fingers to your face to ensure you're not gushing blood or anything odd. Nope, normal. Completely and utterly normal, so... what the hell?

She whispers as her fingers move along the waistband of your pants, "Did you like the taste of the chocolate? Of... Moka?" She laughs. "My name is Moka, do you understand? Mocha and Moka!"

She has the cutest laugh. Soft, genuine, and one that leaves you smiling. Smiling? You ask yourself what you're doing and how you possibly ended up with some mysterious woman pawing your crotch. Regardless, you answer.

"Yeah," you say, her laugh encouraging you to express honesty. "Definitely not a bad product at all."

"Of course not!" Moka cheers. You catch a glimpse of a smile in the shadows that surround her. "After all, I was made with all the finest ingredients to give a taste that absolutely anyone can enjoy! And you're no exception, are you?" Moka's weight presses against you, and she leans close to your ear to murmur, "This little bump in your pants proves that."

You let out a sharp breath, but no denial. Moka may be shrouded in darkness, but you don't have trouble appreciating her presence. You can feel the warmth from her body, her rounded breasts that are all too tempting to touch.

"I'm so confused..." you whisper.

"Good." With the utterance of one word, you see the brightness of a smile. How wonderful and expressive her face is. The darkness clears and the mystery goes with it. The girl in front of you can only be described as utterly breathtaking. She's wearing this smile that turns up a little more on one side of her mouth than the other, and you're absolutely enchanted by its beauty. There's this beauty mark on her nose, such a cute mole. And then her eyes... you could very happily lose yourself within them.

"So incredibly confused," you repeat, and watch with fascination as a lock of her dark hair slips past a black strip and over her flushed cheek.

Moka kisses you. A gentle, testing peck, but there's no time for timid, because she pounces, and suddenly you're drowning under her affection. Kissing her like this is all you can think about, and the way she tangles her small tongue around your own is wildly erotic, both innocent and sinful at the same time.

You are too complacent, but then Moka brings her body flush against yours. You don't know where she came from, you have no idea why she's here and what's going on, but your body is certainly not questioning that right now. Her lithe form under your touch is as smooth as the chocolate she came from.

"Take me," she all but purrs, "It's what I'm here for."

"But you're..."

"Not real? A fantasy? Exactly. That's all the reason you need to let go," she whispers and there is a clarity that brings her words like truth.

Real or not, you can't deny it. You want her, this exotic enigma. You tug her close, fingers tracing a curve, your lips following a line. Her body, her skin, you adore her. Every facet, every inch, you crave her. You take hold of Moka and lift her, she lets out the gentlest of squeaks but instantly wraps her legs around you, and just the sound and feeling of her draws a shudder out of you.

"I spent months in Murgo's storage, just waiting for someone like you. Every single day growing more and more frustrated as I waited. You can't imagine being that pent up, can you?"

She's taking off your shirt. Impatiently running her hands down your torso, like she can't get enough. You stumble until you plant her against the wall, holding her firm and kissing her with all the frustration she feels, biting and sucking and leaving her breathless.

Moka wraps her arms around your neck, curling her heels, pulling you close.

"I can't imagine it, but you don't have to wait for another second though." You squeeze at her taut thighs, making her whimper with delight.

"Taste me," she whispers and you take your lips to her neck. It's not exactly what she has in mind, but she knows it's inevitable. All roads lead between her thighs.

So you fall to your knees before her. Hands up her thighs, driving up the frills of her skirt. She's a delicacy, soft and pink, beautiful, just waiting to be savoured. And the moment your lips touch the inside of her thigh, she gasps, one palm smacking the wall behind her. The tension, the excitement, the breathless little whimpers that escape her, every little thing, has you completely engrossed.

The whole time you press a barrage of kisses against her thighs, moving closer to her core with each passing second, but the light, teasing kisses draw a litany of frustration out of her.

"P-please..." Moka whimpers.

The breath from her plea leaves her in a shudder. She huffs, already trembling. You test how wet she is with your fingers, feeling her damp warmth, her sticky arousal coating your digits. You're unable to resist running your fingertips up the folds of her pussy, using the natural slickness to help move, dancing around her clit and drawing cries from the breathless girl. Her pleasure is plain to see, the rising blush reaching her chest and the deep breaths escaping her.

You slide a single finger inside her, then quickly two, slowly finger fucking her pretty pink, twisting around and feeling her wrap around you.

"You like it?" you murmur and it's not like you could call anything happening now an act of romance, but you turn your head and kiss her thigh. Such a tender moment is shared despite the sordid acts.

Moka huffs, her fingers clinging to your shoulder. "I need it." She sputters, moaning and thrusting down to meet your slow motions. "Oh... It's so good..."

"It's about to get even better," you say.

You lap your tongue along the seeping moisture of her beautiful cunt, and you lick over her slick folds and lap up everything she has to offer. With deep, intense licks, you give her pussy the attention she's been begging for.

"Ahh! Oh, yes!" she shrieks, falling back against the wall and panting with pleasure.

The sweetness of her nectar assaults you, and your tongue finds the little spot that has her moaning each time you lick near it. Faster and faster you circle her clit, watching as her knees quiver and twitch. Closer and closer, your tongue working her into a frenzy.

"More... I-I... yes, don't stop!" she cries, pulling your face against her. She wants more, she won't wait, and she twists and tangles her fingers into your hair, pushing and grinding her dripping sex against you. "Can you imagine it? I was made for pleasure. To give and receive, only to be forced to hide away, all alone? To suffer every day, tortured by my need?"

Moka whimpers and struggles to keep her breath even. You must want to do something about that, don't you?

You grab her thighs, lifting her off the ground and shifting your hands under her, grabbing her soft, plump ass cheeks. She cries at the movement, but then her legs are wrapped around your shoulders, clutching you to her desperately. You eat her little pussy out furiously, ravaging her drenched folds as she cries out, screams filling the room as you pick up the pace. Your tongue dances around her clit, your fingers sinking deeply into the soft flesh of her cute little ass.

"Oh god... I can't stop myself," her desperate cries fill the room.

You cannot deny this girl, even if you wanted to, so you devour her sweet cunt, and watch as her eyes close, the pleasure becoming too much as her body explodes with euphoric release. She screams, desperately riding your face, her entire body quivering and twitching as she cums. The juices drip down your chin as she rides the wave of intense bliss, rolling her hips, indulging in it, prolonging it for as long as she can.

Finally, the surge of her overwhelming orgasm ends, but she slumps, nearly lifeless in your grasp. You struggle to keep her up, and she keeps trying to grind her sensitive folds against you, but her exhaustion finally hits her. So you take her, back in your arms, and toward your kitchen table.

There she lays, shaking and sweating, struggling to catch her breath, and you want nothing more than to pry her delicate figure from that dress. You strip her, your mouth kissing every newly exposed surface of her perfect body.

"This is how things should have been, how life should have been," Moka mumbles, her dark hair swirling beneath her as she lays across your table. Her sweet skin comes into sight and you can't help running your hands along the feminine curve of her stomach. Her perfect breasts fit in the palms of your hands and you trace circles around her taut nipples as she sighs happily.

You undress, and she watches, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. Her expression is suddenly guilty, as though admiring a man naked isn't something a girl should do. But you caress her face, she's your beautiful enchantress, and that moment of hesitation seems to pass as she leans into the palm of your hand. Her eyes shimmer with acceptance, and she's accepting of all the dirty things she's thinking, all the things she's about to say. "I...I want you inside me," she whispers.

Your cock is erect and eager, so hard, aching, throbbing with the desire to know her warmth, and you line yourself with the wetness between her legs.

Gently, you lean forward, pressing the tip against her tightness. "Are you ready?"

"For however long I've waited," she breathes.

She's quivering under you, full of tension, gripping the edge of the table tightly. The expression on her face is so vulnerable, open and raw, so beautiful. Her chest rises and falls with her need, and there's a hunger burning in her, a fire begging to be ignited.

"Please," Moka begs.

"Gentle..." you tell her, though who it's meant for, you're not entirely sure. But you take a deep breath and ease into her slickness.

She gasps, her grip around the side of the table tightening. It takes a moment, but she grows accustomed, her tension dissipates and her trembling is overcome. She laughs, and the sound is nothing short of stunning. Chime-like, the light, airy melody fills the room as she touches herself. Cupping her supple breasts, and tugging her pink nipples, she indulges in her lust and rocks gently against your hard shaft.

"Fuck away my lusts. Fill the void, be the man I've needed so badly," her sweet voice begins to sing with pleasure, her pitch rising.

Her cunt is so warm and inviting, so wet, stretching tightly around you as you pump back and forth. Wet noises sound with every pass. Moka's eyes glaze over and her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you even deeper.

Your thrusting finds a comfortable, easy rhythm, and soon your hips are slapping eagerly against her every time you push in. Wet noises fill the air each time you drive into her deepest parts.

"God, yes..." her desperation only heightens, "Use me, please. Don't stop, fuck me."

"How could I ever?" you pant, both leaning in, sucking the taste of her chocolate mouth, twirling her tongue, drinking her intoxicating exhales.

She's a dream, this girl is made for indulgence. Her arms hook under yours, hands grasping your shoulders, digging into your back, desperate for some way to anchor herself. You want to touch every part of her, soak up her delicious little whimpers and commit them to memory. As your breath runs ragged and your heart pounds in your chest, nothing other than her is present in your mind. Nothing else matters. She is the pure embodiment of desire.

As the feverish motion speeds up, her soft breasts bounce and her entire body shimmers. Sweat glistens along her slender form and you push her to limits she's never known. Her cries run longer and louder until she's screaming, moaning your name, muttering incoherent praise.

"Moka..." you whisper her name, lacing her with what little you can say with a mind lost in the overwhelming bliss of her body.

It isn't long before your rhythm begins to break down. A rising and falling beat, speeding and slowing, stuttering with your every breath. She's drowning with you, and yet floating all at once. Latching onto you, refusing to let go. Desperate, clamping tightly onto you as you enter her deeper with each sharp thrust.

Panting, drenched, bodies so close. Your hard, feverish heat, her spiking lust, colliding with explosive fervour as you surge forward, burying yourself inside her and grunting as you shudder.

Unbridled and relentless, the swelling heat pulses through you and down your length. Rippling through her, filling her cunt, pouring into her. Her cries peak alongside yours. She shudders and shakes as your pulsing cock pumps a shockwave of ecstasy through her.

Delirious laughter escapes her when her rolling euphoria subsides, and her satisfied smile when she strokes her hand down your hot chest... everything about her... the delight of satisfaction washes through her.

Just what was that? That woman made you feel desires you could never imagine possible. Never could you have imagined something would make you feel as if you were flying.

Never could you imagine her.

And yet here she is.

"Can we..." she seems uncertain now, nervous, unsure.

You take her hands and kiss them. A delicate display of adoration that causes her nervous smile to transform into something happier, more certain. "What is it, Moka?"

She presses her finger to her lower lip, searching for the right words. "We can do this again, can't we?"

You can't resist chuckling at the blush that reaches her chest and the shy way she turns her head.

"Of course," you say.

-

Now you understand, even if vaguely, what happened and how things came to be; your actions and hers.

But, as always, the question remains... can a fantasy ever stay?

Moka is sitting outside on the small porch of your humble home. Fond memories occupy your thoughts; nights filled with bliss; mornings spent listening to her joyous voice.

"Are you having doubts?" she asks, unable to meet your gaze.

You sigh and rest against the rail. Her feelings are difficult to understand sometimes, but you have this odd connection, as if an invisible bridge exists between you, allowing you to feel her as she can you. She wants your happiness, you know that, she craves it, and yet...

"Will you stay?" you ask her quietly, a little afraid of the answer.

The setting sun casts pink across the sky. From the lush valley, there's a stream that cuts across the landscape, shaded by the greenery, broken only by the towering tree that stands tall in the distance. Its wide leaves filter the sunlight, casting gentle patterns in the trickling water. It really is such a peaceful place to live.

You stand and enjoy the moment. Fresh air, the calming simplicity of nature.

"I'm sorry," Moka's voice is only a whisper, "I don't know the limits of the magic that brought me here. If I stay, would I be stuck as a human? If I leave your side, would I ever be able to return? It's as much of a mystery to me as it is to you."

"Should I ask Murgo?"

"That fool? He didn't even know the chocolate was really magic. No," her voice grows firmer, "Don't trust the words of that merchant." Her hands clutch tightly at her knees, "I do have this feeling. I can't quite explain it, but, I've been feeling it since you first tasted me."

"Feeling?"

"A pulling—a tug—toward you, away from you too," she says. "Magic, desires, loneliness... maybe they've been woven together. I can't be sure."

"Not sure I understand."

"I feel it now. There's this need to be satisfied. And when I'm not, it feels like the magic will just tear me away."

You push away from the railing and step towards her. She's sitting, knees pulled against her chest, wearing nothing more than a white linen gown. Seeing her so small...

"So, if I just satisfy you..." You reach out and gently brush your knuckles along her soft cheek. Moka leans into your touch, her deep brown eyes gazing up. Your fingertips push through her silky dark hair and cup her delicate chin. As she stares at you, you can feel the deep, yearning emotion within her. "Then you will stay with me."

"I think—"

You interrupt her with a kiss. Softly locking your lips, bringing her comfort. Just a moment, simple tenderness. Then passion, as you open your mouth and taste the pure sugar of her tongue. Slipping around yours, her hot exhale, her warmth, both erotic and meaningful.

You can only pull away by taking her with you, pulling her up from the chair. Eagerly, Moka smiles and steps into your arms. Squeezing her tight, holding her around the waist, breathing her scent, feeling the tension inside yourself. She kisses you back with the same intensity, lips tight on yours, warm and dripping as they open, teasing you with her sweet taste.

You stumble back towards the railing, bodies entwined. Tilting your head, her chocolate flavour can make anyone addicted. Kissing her, nipping, sucking, biting her lip. Sinking into her warmth, her body. Lifting the hem of her short gown, running your fingers along the silky skin of her thighs. She arches back into the wooden railing, and you break apart the kiss as she sinks into the support behind her.

You take hold of her shoulders and turn her. She braces against the railing and leans forward, showing off that inviting, delicate shape. Between the arch of her back and the curve of her cute ass, she begs to be taken. And that thin linen may as well not even be there; it's so taut, so transparent.

You move behind her. In the fading light of the evening, the shadows reveal more than they hide. Lifting the cloth and leaving her bare. Running your hands down the lines of her hips and sides, your fingers lightly trace back up her ribs and finally, you cup one of her light breasts. Her nipple presses into the palm of your hand, and she's so sensitive, arching at even the slightest touch.

She looks back at you, her eyes longing, knowing what comes next. Spreading your fingers down between her legs, you run them along the slick, wet flesh waiting for you. She's already ready, dripping, and your fingertips only tease her. Bending, lining up your rigid cock against her wetness. You place your other hand on her hip and ready yourself, preparing to push forward.

"I'll never grow tired of this," you say.

Moka looks back at you, blushing, hair over her face as she tries to look through the veil. Before she can respond, you push, and she lets out a sharp cry at being filled. With her firmly held, you slide in and out of her dripping cunt. It's not a frantic, hurried pace, but deep, intense thrusts that give Moka what she needs—give her relief.

"Ah! That's so deep... so deep."

Her moans spill out without restraint. Such a vibrant voice, full of the lusts she's harbouring. Holding her firmly, plunging deeper and faster, her tiny pussy wrapping tightly around you. Wet, slippery squishing echoes through the empty air. Slaps sounding with every time your crotch strikes hers. It's all so lewd and brings you ever closer, keeps driving you.

The deeper her chest falls, the more she arches, and a deep moan escapes as her body shakes. Her orgasm comes strong, fast, and powerful, making her legs quake and her voice stutter. But you hold her and keep fucking. Slipping against her back, clinging to her waist, burying your face in her hair. Her trembling sex tenses and flexes and still she moans, incoherently telling you just how good it feels.

You've lost track of the number of times you've filled her tight cunt in the past few days, so this is just another one of many. She loves it, though; loves feeling you pour so deeply inside her. She'll do anything to feel it. So you fill her. Firm thrusts as you pump her full of your cum, right there on the porch.

-

During the moments she spends staring out the window, you run your hand down Moka's back. She hums a little sound, appreciating the act, and snuggles into the blanket further.

"Cold? I could go get the fire going again if you like."

Moka stares blankly, fixated on a flower just outside the window. She blinks and laughs suddenly.

"Hm? Sorry, what did you say?"

You repeat what you said and she quickly responds.

"It's alright, but there's something I need you to do."

"What is it?"

"Lie on the bed, let me ride you. I want to feel you fill me. I need it." She reaches a hand up and cradles her own breast, grasping at it and squeezing the supple mound.

It's getting worse—her constant need. Like an itch, she says. Something has to constantly be done to keep it from being painful. It's barely been two hours since you were last inside her, and it seems to be the only thing she can think about.

"Please. I just need a little more..."

You can't bring yourself to deny her. Not when she looks at you like that. So you stumble backwards, pulling her naked form along with you, and ungracefully land on your back. Already you're growing hard, just from looking up at her dainty body and recalling all the wonderful acts you have performed and thinking of what is yet to come.

Moka runs her hand through her hair and gazes downward, a serene look washing over her delicate features.

"Smiling suits you," you tell her.

Again, you watch her eyes light up at that little kind of praise. "Thank you," she says, blushing as she clambers across the bed to kneel above you. She fixes her knees on either side of your hips and runs her palms over your chest, teasing your body as her breasts sway before you.

"Oh..." she purrs as she rocks back and forth, rubbing her bare sex up and down your length. "Oh, yes..."

You hum with delight, but remain still for a moment, listening to the happy sounds she's making, letting her indulge in the simple foreplay.

Eventually, she can take it no longer. "Here..." She lifts herself with her thighs and wraps a single hand around your hardened cock, steadying it and gripping tight. With a single gasp, she guides you inside her. Her moisture envelops you and she's so tight, the way her pussy seems to suck you in all the way to the base. But once you reach that far point, you both let out a loud moan of satisfaction. She's got all of you, every last inch of your shaft has found its home inside her.

Moka rests there for a moment, staring down with these innocent, almost vulnerable brown eyes. From the soft feeling of her velvety interior and the cute, lewd look of her blissful face, you can't help yourself, and buck up into her, plunging even further in. She lets out a gasp and stumbles forward, catching herself on your chest.

"I'm sorry! Are you alright?" you ask.

The dark-haired girl giggles—something that pleases you more than you can describe—and returns to that dainty smile. She pulls her hips and then drives them against you, before groaning, "More than alright."

Moka finds her rhythm. Rolling and grinding her hips, each motion punctuated by her spiking arousal. Her small cunt welcomes the friction, drips with desire. You grip her waist, helping her balance as she bounces in your lap, pushing herself harder and faster each time. She pushes harder, taking more of you, and soon she's crying out your name, begging you to fill her with everything you have.

Her gorgeous form rocks above you. Thrusting vigorously, her little breasts barely bouncing in a way that you can't take your eyes away from. Moka digs her nails into your chest. Her moans and cries grow increasingly desperate.

"You're amazing," Moka moans through her pleasure, voice quivering and trembling with it.

You can feel her clenching tighter and tighter, her insides quaking as she begs, and pleads for release. It brings your climax close, and despite the urgency of her pleasure, she maintains a controlled rhythm. Not so fast as to short-circuit things, keeping you on the very edge of euphoria.

"God, I love the way you..." she exclaims as a bright flush blossoms across her face. She sinks her teeth into her lower lip, muting her sound.

"What?" you struggle to speak as her slick folds wrap so tightly around you.

You don't know what it is, but something catches her attention. Her movements slow and she's searching, somehow peering through the dark outside. The noise has stopped too, usually at night there's a cacophony of singing insects and rustling, fluttering wings, but now nothing. No wind or creak or creasing leaf. Quiet. Dead quiet.

Moka slips off of your cock and crawls backwards to the end of the bed.

"What is it?" you ask.

Moka's lips twitch. Anxiety sets in over her features and she steps away from the bed, toward the window. Moonlight kisses her skin, the pale rays dancing on her shadowy form. Your heart falters and you realise... you really do want her here. Like this. Always.

"Moka?"

A strong gust blows and the window swings open. Her silky hair whips against her face, catching on her lips. She raises her hand, fingers hovering lightly in the moonlight. You remain motionless in fear of breaking whatever is occurring. Nothing feels right, not a single thing. As if the fabric of reality has been slashed in two.

The wind howls. The lights flicker and the fireplace across the room somehow brings itself to light. She turns to face it and the flames illuminate Moka's eyes. They glow a pale violet, the hue all wrong, ghostly. A tremble comes over her, and she says just five words. The last five words you'll ever hear from her.

"I'm sorry. I'll miss you."

Her hand turns to dust. The grains reflect the moon as they blow out of the window. You watch as the rest of her body follows, leaving only the imprint of where she once stood.

Time moves slowly—too slowly—like your heart, which can't beat. Something has broken, something in you, though not a sound passes through your lips. Tears stream from your eyes. The pain, the sorrow, the emptiness—it all feels irreparable. You can't bear it, and without a single word, without a single sound, the world goes black.

[takumiraine]

Once Upon a Time chapter 7

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Danny is still going thru it. I’m not going to put it on Ao3 until I’m done with it. I have no idea about a master post though.

Some blood and a bit of puke in this chapter.

—

Danny was furious. Furious and terrified and alone.

Jason. His one friend. Red Hood. The man who had sworn he wasn’t a Bat. They were the same person. They worked with Batman. Bruce Wayne funded the Justice League. Bruce Wayne was Jason’s father.

He was going to be sick.

Danny stopped running to throw up in an alley, half bile, half swallowed blood. His nose was still dripping and oozing and throbbing and the force of his heaving set it bleeding in earnest again. He swore, spitting on the ground, before flattening himself into the shadows as the trill of police cars sped by, heading the direction he had just left.

He had to find a way to contact Tucker and Sam. Tucker was monitoring the GIW passively, and it was set up to know if anyone searched for him. If there was suddenly more chatter or a mobilization. But if the Bats were watching him…

Danny checked the street and darted another couple blocks before pressing against another wall and checking. When he got to his building, he scampered up to his apartment and locked himself in. Not that the locks would do anything against anyone that seriously wanted to hurt him but…. He moved his bed up against the door too.

Danny went to sigh out of his nose and spattered half clotted blood everywhere again. “Ancients fucking damn it!” Danny felt tears springing to his eyes at the thought of yet another mess he’d have to clean up before he could pass out. He went to the bathroom and growled at his reflection in the mirror. The break in his nose was obvious and he knew that if he didn’t fix it now, it would slowly fix itself over the next week or two.

If he had a shitton of food and a way into the Zone without drawing suspicion he could heal it in a couple hours but…

A deep breath in and a gritted yell out, and Danny was able to reset it, icing it in place with the little bit of his powers he was able to use without drawing attention. Gotham had a lot of random cold spells from that one supervillain. Danny wasn’t going to argue it.

He changed his shirt, and washed out the blood in cold water, gingerly wiping off his face as he went. Once it was laid in the kitchen sink to dry, Danny took the duct tape he had in his drawer and taped his windows shut.

The point was to make it obvious if they were tampered with and make a lot of noise in the process.

From there, he pulled his blankets into the tub, crawled on top of them and went to sleep, thankful it was the weekend. He would get the blood off the wood in the morning. He didn’t sleep well, waking up with barely muffled shouts and gasps for breath as the memories of broken bones healing while being used, burns so bad he couldn’t feel them regrowing nerves, the concussive blast of the Fenton Bazooka, the shredding feeling of the Fenton Ghost Peeler haunting his unconscious mind.

The irony of his parents handing over their otherwise harmless weapons to the GIW who upgraded them into the most painful versions possible under the guise of protecting him from Phantom was not lost on him.

He did not go to campus Saturday or Sunday, but showed up for his Monday class the slightest bit late, anxiety chewing through him like squirrels liked to gnaw through cables. Jason was in their usual spot, but Danny slid into one nearest the door, frowning when he caught Jason looking at him. He knew he was still all bruised up, he had to ration again, and aside from some bottom of the barrel cheap ass junk food, he hadn’t eaten this weekend at all.

He could feel Jason’s eyes on him most of the lesson, and Danny kept his head down, scrawling his notes the best he could with battered and split knuckles. He felt one of the scabs tear and absently lifted it to his mouth, making sure he didn’t bleed all over his notes. From across the room, Danny felt something from Jason’s core and used his own to push back “no” and “asshole”.

Jason might not be able to tell exactly what Danny meant, or even why, but he should be able to get a vibe. Judging by the small flinch, barely perceptible even when Danny was looking right at Jason, Danny was fairly certain his point was made.

The end of class came and Danny was the first one out the door, pushing his core down to nothing and ducking down another hallway and into a doorway of an empty classroom. He sat against the wall there to do his homework, rather than being predictable and going to the library.

Jason was well aware that he had fucked up. Danny looked half dead, more than the first time, with bruises on his face and hands and up his sleeves. Then Danny’s knuckle split and he sucked it into his mouth. Jason felt a pile of things swirl around the place in his stomach the pit occupied. Guilt tinged with arousal, followed by embarrassment at the arousal in this situation and then…. He felt like a wall slammed into the pit. He didn’t flinch, not anymore, but there was a hard blink in response. Danny’s glare told him all he needed to know. It had come from him. Somehow.

Then class was over and Danny bolted almost immediately. By the time Jason made it out of class after him, he was gone.

The next couple of classes went the same way.

Jason needed to find him, to talk, to explain, to apologize, to ask him how the fuck he knew. He almost got his chance on Wednesday when Jason was in the library with Babs, shelving books silently with her. Danny snuck around the corner and startled so hard he dropped the book he had been planning to check out, probably for their lit class. He looked between Babs and Jason for one tense moment, and Jason watched him go pale(r) in the bright lights. He opened his mouth and reached out a hand, and Danny flinched away, fear slamming into Jason like the force of that bomb. When he could breathe again, Danny was gone.

“He’s afraid of us…” Jason muttered, confused. “He took on six goons in the middle of the night and got stabbed, but still walks around Gotham at night without fear…. But he’s afraid of us.”

Babs looked up at him. “We need to find out what happened.” Her voice was matter of fact. “Before B stumbles into it and makes things worse.”

“I know.”

Friday, Jason got his chance.

Danny was creeping across the courtyard and Jason was just happening to cross at a different point. “Danny!” He called, just loud enough to be heard. He had his hands up, empty, as he approached. He was ready for the fear slamming into him this time, and ate the angry that followed behind it. “Wait. Please. It’s important.” Danny didn’t move, didn’t run, though he was scoping out exits. Jason made sure to leave him with several.

“You have one minute. Any other…. Associate…. Joins you and you don’t get another chance.”

“Fair. It’s just us.” Jason came close enough that he could talk without being overheard, hands still up. “I want to say I’m sorry first. I wanted to tell you, but it isn’t something I can really tell people and the relationship is complicated and we don’t really work together. But that’s not the point. B wants to know how you knew it was me and how the pit got to you. We tried to look it…. You… up but there was a weird firewall? Some account required shit and a number. One of the…. Others… called it and it went to a government information warehouse? She pretended it was a wrong number and it was on a burner that we destroyed after but- “

Danny looked ashen. “You called the GIW?”

“You know them?”

“They want to kill me. Again.” Danny crumpled to the ground, hunching in on himself. He took a step closer to hear what Danny was whispering. “-gonna fillet me… don’t have the shield, need to warn Tucker and Sam and…. No not Jazz. She’s normal… she’s safe… they don’t want her… they only want me… my fault…my fault…”

When it turned into Danny just repeating “my fault” over and over, Jason knelt beside him. Danny flinched, curled in deeper, but Jason just gently placed his hand on Danny’s shoulder, reminding him quietly of where they were and that he was safe.

It took time, but slowly Danny’s rapid and shallow breathing returned to normal. He looked up at Jason. “Why…? Why are you doing this to me?”

“We didn’t mean to call the government. Everything ever associated with you has had a firewall around it. Oracle can’t break in without alerting them. Why are they after you?”

“Batman and the league called them.”

“I…. They’ve never worked with the government.”

“Right.”

“Seriously.” Danny still looked skeptical Jason raised a hand calmingly. “Okay. Let’s pause that. Why do you think they would call them on you. What happened?”

“There was a lot of… weird and dangerous stuff happening in my town…. With me. I kept calling the league and leaving them messages. First asking for help… then asking for someone to just talk to me… make sure I wasn’t… going to hurt someone. Then the GIW showed up…”

“What does GIW really stand for?”

“We always called them the Guys in White, because that’s all they wore… but..” Danny took a fortifying breath. Jason noticed he was shaking. “Ghost Investigation Ward. See… my parents… were inventors and I accidentally turned myself into a halfa when I fixed something of theirs…”

Jason stared. It was a lot to take in. Bruce wouldn’t have ignored a kid asking for help. Hell, Supes or the Flash could have been there and back in less time than it took him to have a cup of coffee. So many questions ran through Jason’s mind, starting with why had he been the one the universe picked for this? Dick and Tim were both more emotionally available, able to give more than just a ‘there there’ or ‘that’s rough buddy’. Instead of the reasonable questions, like ‘what kind of weird things?’ or ‘what are you capable of?’ Jason just asked “Halfa?”

“Half ghost. Half human. Technically I died in my parents’ basement. But also I didn’t.”

“Is that how you knew it was me?”

“Yeah. Gotham has a little ambient ecto, all the violent deaths here. Not as much as home but, it works. You died once too though, pretty… permanently. But your core was still weak. It’s formed up a lot more with me, but it’s…. Like a fingerprint.”

“I need to tell B. That you’re being hunted by the government guys and why you think it was him and the league that sold you out. He’s going to want to crack the firewall, and probably hear your side of the story himself.”

“Just… when they come give me as much of a heads up as you can. We were… or you pretended we were friends. You owe me that much.”

“If I have to take on those dicks myself, I will. I won’t let them keep hunting you here. Those of us that died but got better have to stick together.”

Danny still looked suspicious. Jason didn’t blame him. “When he cracks the firewall, he’s going to learn who I really am. If…. If he wants me to trust him, I need to know who he really is.” Danny eventually said, quietly. Jason didn’t blame him.

“I’ll tell him that.” Jason didn’t know what Bruce would say to that. He assumed the answer would be as close to ‘No fucking way in any hell that exists or was ever imagined’ as Bruce got. But he would ask.

Danny nodded. Seeming smaller and way older than he should. Looking like a man that hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in years. Like every drop of anything worth anything had been wrung out of him. Jason knew that feeling. He wanted to make Danny feel safe again. If Danny really did try to avoid hurting people, he deserved safety.

He could have outed Jason to the whole town. He didn’t. Jason thought that was something. “I’ll talk to him.” Jason promised again.

[daycourtofficial]

I got cursed like Eve got bitten - part VII

Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand's sister!reader | WC: 400 | Warnings: none

Summary: reports of a rare powered fae popping up in Illyria send Azriel and Rhysand on a journey through the past, unraveling a truth they thought long buried

Previous part | Next part | Masterlist

The two of you sat on the edge of the river bank, watching the water flow. The moonlight reflected off the water’s surface, Azriel’s eyes catching the occasional fish breaking the surface tension. You laughed, shaking your head causing some water to flicker over Azriel. He looked at you, your wet clothes clinging to you, much like his own clung to him. Some of his wet hair got into his eyes, blocking you from his sight.

“I’ll be back.” You whispered, “I have something for you.”

The anticipation ate at Azriel as he waited, the night growing darker around him. He watched the water, the black surface looking almost like a river of shadow. He felt naked, no shadows of his own creation lingered around him. He watched as something floated downstream toward him. He watched it, the shape of a box coming into focus. He stood with urgency, running across the shallow water to get to it.

He trudged through the knee deep water, trying not to fall with his urgent movements. He pulled the box from the water, the box dripping as he walked to the other edge of the bank. It was knotted with a dark blue ribbon, and his heart swelled at your signature wrapping for his gifts.

Pulling the ribbon back, he opened the lid to find your lifeless eyes staring back at him, maggots chewing through the skin of your face.

Azriel jolted upright in bed, his body covered in sweat. His shadows kept prodding at him, bringing him back to the land of the waking. He jolted from the bed, feet landing on the floor as he rounded the bedpost. He darted through the door, stopping right outside your door across the hall after his quick strides. He stood, slowly leaning his head to the door, listening for any sound he could make out. 

He tried stilling his breathing, the erratic shuddering obscuring his hearing. He pressed his ear to the door, listening, praying to hear anything.

Thump thump.

Thump thump.

His heart calmed at the sound of your own beating, your slow breathing audible through the wood separating you. His arms begged to be wrapped around you, his wings aching to wrap around your own, the two of you forming a cocoon.

But he can’t.

He walked back to his room, feet silent and slow on the wood as he closed the door, a small attempt to shut out the past long enough to ease the ache of your presence.

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Thanks for reading 🥰

[brbzonedout]

-Movie Night

Pairing: E!42 Miles x Spider-person!reader

Warnings: Protectiveness…if that triggers you.

Outside of Miles’s window the streets buzzed with noise, from cars honking their horns to people yelling for their kids to come inside.

It was late at night as usual and Miles was sitting at his desk listening to music as he sketched out ideas for a creative writing paper that he couldn’t visualize properly.

knock knock…

That was unexpected.

Miles turned toward his bedroom window to see you standing out there with a excited smile. The boy smirked subconsciously wondering what you were doing here this late, especially without texting him first.

He opened the window and helping you crawl through.

“Don’t worry your mom knows i’m here,” you said landing on the hard wood floor of his bedroom.

“ho-”

“I texted her..anyways look!” you lifted your phone to his face showing him the disney plus app.

Miles squinted his eyes shielding them from the phones aggressive brightness, “What am I looking at?” he stifled a laugh.

You turned the phone back to your view, eye brows furrowed, “Are we not looking at the same thing? Little mermaid is on disney plus now so we can watch it!”

“You ran all the way here just to watch The little mermaid?”

The boy closed the window behind you and took your jacket off your back to hang in his closet.

“With you…” you stated with a smile kicking off your shoes.

With a sound understanding he turned back around to face you, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I coulda gotten snacks and shit.” the question came with a concern glare.

“Number one…” You held up a book bag full of both your favorite snacks.

“And two you wouldn’t have let me walk over here myself,” you grumbled, sounding slightly annoyed, seated on his edge of his bed in your hello kitty pajama pants. “then I would’ve had to wait for you to get me…then walk here….then have you walk me back home, then wait for you to get back home and you like to take stops so-”

He rolled his eyes and joined you on the bed. “Well yeah ima walk wit you, you know where we live right?”

“You realize i’m the Spinner right?” said in a whisper, matter of factly.

Miles sighed not wanting to have this conversation for the 3rd time this month. “Yeah ok y/n…lemme see the bag….please.”

You snorted getting ready to chew the boy out for his lack of manners, “I was bout to say- here.” after digging into the bag you handed over a platter of caribbean food from the place down the block.

“Wha- this is food food…”

“I may have also stopped at Mrs. Kiyana’s shop…allegedly.”

Miles stifled a laugh and took the platter. As he opened it he noticed you got everything exactly the way he liked it, jerk chicken with Jamaican cabbage, and plantains.

He held back a smile, “Thank you..” said in a soft whisper like tone as he reached his hand into the platter.

“Of course,” you reached back in the bag pulling out two forks. “I know you not about to eat that with your hands-”

The boy stopped in his tracks and awkwardly took one of them out of your hand. “Right, my bad..”

I might make a part two to this one as well. BUT I KIND OF LIKE THE WAY THIS CAME OUT!! YAY! Anyways thank you for reading<3

©brbzonedout

[nayaesworld]

The Beast in the Woods

Warnings:SMUT,breeding,supernatural situations

Aaron Pierre X OC!Willow

Part 2

In which the lion and lamb fall deeply in love with each other and bind their beings as one…

Life felt truly and utterly complete for Willow. The handsome man that harbored a beast deep inside him had swept her off her feet and made her feel so bubbly and warm inside. Even though most days she felt obsessed with him, he assured her he felt the same way as she did maybe triple fold. The two were connected at the hip, when one moved the other moved. A graceful display of love. Her scrapbook in her living room now filled with pictures of them taken from her digital camera, pictures that somehow captured how they truly felt in the moment they were taken. Willow was at peace, happy, and in love… she said the last part a lot to herself sometimes it didn’t feel real. She loved this man, loved everything he stood for and loved how he worshiped her. She was a goddess to him.

Draped in one of Terry’s shirts she crept into her kitchen where she heard him rustling around.

“I can hear you my love… you couldn’t ever hide from me.” She smacked her lips as he laughed aloud at her attempt to creep up and scare him.

“You’re no fun… you never met me get you.” She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest giggling as he reached out for her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She sighed to herself as he sucked and licked at her neck, his large hands groping and palming her cheeks through her black boyshorts.

“Mmm.. but I always get you, and I get you good every time” And get her he did, Terry had managed to completely turn Willow out. She was eager to learn how to please him, and he was eager to teach her.

They fucked often. On every surface and every position. Everytime she thought she had been put in every position possible, he’d bend her body a new way. Willow was severely surprised that she hadn’t fallen pregnant yet. Would it be so bad if she did…?

“It’s not fair… you have your hearing and smell. I could be down the road and you’d still hear me before you ever saw me!” She exclaimed and giggled as he tickled her against her butcher block island.

Her hands found his warm face and she caressed him, peering into his ever expressive eyes.

“Did I tell you how much I love you today?” She playfully questioned him while trying her best to jump into his skin. Close was never close enough for her and she needed to touch him whenever he was near her.

“Mmm… you did my baby… but I’m never tired of hearing it. If I said I loved you more would you believe me… girl I’m obsessed with you..” He squeezed her into him, soft and content was it anything better?

A heavy downpour covered the cozy cottage and the woodlands, hard white rain coming from the sky in angry spurts of water. Willow loved the rain though, the sound would serenade and calm her. It nurtured her plants and everything around her, she was grateful. But this weather called for something hot and hearty, and her vegetable garden had sprouted nice juicy tomatoes and a tomato soup with a grilled cheese sandwich sounded divine.

Opposed to getting her freshly washed curls wet again, she sent Terry out to snatch a few tomatoes from their green vines. She laid her tomatoes,garlic,onions,and bell peppers onto a baking pan to prepare to roast them in her oven. She cracked black pepper and salt on top and slid them into her preheated oven, setting a timer on her phone she glanced around for Terry.

“Baby?…where did this man go so quickly” She chewed her bottom lip as she looked all over the house for him. For a man of such size and height he always managed to evade her, quiet as a church mouse and cunning as a panther.

Finally the sound of running water led her to her bathroom. Pushing open the door her dark brows scrunched as she finally made out his massive form fully clothed and sitting against the shower wall soaking wet as his head laid in his palms and he breathed heavily.

“Terry baby oh my god..Are you ok?!” She rushed to fling open the glass door, ice cold water stinging her hand.

Not caring about the icy water raining down onto her, she grasped his head into her hands and gasped. His skin was searing hot and his usual soft green eyes had been replaced with honey gold ones with blown pupils. He breathed heavily and raggedly in her presence, scaring her.

“Willow baby…please move away.. I-I don’t trust myself right now… you need to leave me be.” His words came out rushed and she was confused on whether or not she’d be able to leave him in this state as he requested.

It took everything in her to turn away from him and rush to her kitchen to shut off the oven, she didn’t need a fire starting.

_________________________________________________

Terry didn’t see this coming. He thought he’d get away with loving Willow and his instincts would sit on the back burner while he restricted himself. A joke was what it was, because he had known better than to suppress his nature, yet he couldn’t bear to put it all on her. His feelings for her were raw and real. Deep inside him he knew this day was coming, but primal instincts didn’t follow the human calendar so he had no time to prepare.

Heat had came for Terry. All of his kind had to experience it one day but none of them were ever truly prepared for the carnal experience. A Lycan in heat was a Lycan in love, a Lycan bound so tight by their mate that they could only see them; and no future without. Terry had felt all these things for Willow times infinity, he looked back often at the dull life he lived before her and realized he was never actually living; just existing.

Terry being in heat symbolized everything he truly felt for her and everything he wanted them to be, a husband to her; and a father to their future children. She was his soulmate and his supernatural soul had solidified that. There was no life for Terry without Willow and tonight he’d make sure she knew and believed that.

“Baby?… I know you wanted me to leave you… but I can’t, I need to know for sure if you’re ok!” His keen hearing allowed him to hear Willow’s honeyed voice over the loud shower.

Gathering himself his legs shook as he stood to his full height to turn off the water.Peering through the partition glass of the shower he watched her grab him a large fluffy white towel to dry off with.Stepping out of the shower he felt his hot skin cool off in her presence, she was the one; the only one.

“Let me help you please…you’re scaring me baby” he let her help him out of the soaking clothes he breathed in her sweet scent and let it take him away. Standing fully naked he grabbed the towel from her and wrapped it around his waist.

“Your eyes.. I’ve never seen them look like this before, does this have anything to do with what you are, being a Lycan?” Her curious hands ran up and down his body, seemingly checking for signs of harm on his body.

“I’m not afraid, I accepted you fully and completely a year ago when you showed up near my house… nothing is keeping me from you.” She continued on talking but stopped when she peered up into the intense gaze of his.

“I’ll tell you everything… starting with the fact that this is even happening to me right now is your fault.” A sly smirk graced Terry's face as he backed her into her room.

“My fault…bu-but how… what did I do?” The little gasp she let out made his dick swell just a little; he knew he would explode at the lightest touch.

“You little sneaky vixen… look at how you just seduced me and fucked up my head..and I just let you. This that you see in front of you is my body’s raw reaction to you.. I crave you so badly baby, I’m in love with you .” Terry watched as her pretty brown eyes seemed clouded by his words, and he burned to touch her.

“It’s all on you baby…you make me feel like this, it’s all solidified now…there’s no going back. I’m in heat, baby…my body is begging for me to make what we have a lifelong love…to marry you and give you my babies..” He let her slide her soft palms along his bulky arms and felt the tingles that were left behind. She leaned up on her tippy toes and kissed him beneath his ear and whispered.

“So do it..”

_________________________________________________

Terry engulfed Willow into his heated embrace and began to slide his hands underneath his shirt that she was draped in. He felt her plump nipple pebble up under his touch as he tugged on them and ran the pads on his fingers over them.

“Hold the shirt up, let me eat my pussy.” Terry grumbled and sank down onto the plush cream carpet on her bedroom floor. He tugged down her boyshorts and she placed her hands on his shoulders to step out of them.

He placed her leg onto his built shoulders and let his pointer finger and thumb open the lips of her vulva. His plump lips gave open mouth kisses and he slowed his slurping and paced himself.

Willow was sweeter than any fruit or any treat he’d ever consumed, and he found it hard to control himself when they often tangled in the sheets.

“Ouu baby fuck…why are you eating my pussy like this?” Willow threw her head back and grinded her pussy across Terrys face.

“Mmm fuck mama feed me my pussy…I want you to nut.” Terry wagged his tongue back and forth as he sent Willow to another dimension with French kisses to her clit.

“Tell daddy you love him…I said tell daddy you fucking love him!” He nipped her inner thigh and stood to his feet.

“Ohh I love you..I-I love you so damn much!” Willow squeaked and held onto Terry as he carried her to her king sized bed.

“You about to get your money's worth out of this bed…I hope you know that. Might fuck you into the mattress mama..” Terry grabbed up a few plush pillows from her bed and placed them between the headboard and the wall, he didn’t want damage to the walls or paint.

The location of something very special came to the forefront of Terry’s mind; a ring. A pear shaped ring with a green quartz gemstone, a dazzling engagement ring that captured the beauty and love for greenery and nature that Willow held. A true embodiment of what Terry truly felt for her every passing day.

The ring normally sat in its box nestled in her nightstand, he had to move it often to be sure she never stumbled upon it and most days he just resorted to keeping it on his personal. He wanted the proposal to be huge and elaborate but today had taken him completely by surprise and his instincts urged to do it as soon as possible.

“Willow baby… forgive me for not giving you the absolute best when it comes to what I’m about to ask you, but I-I just couldn’t wait any longer. You know how much I love and care for you; how strongly my heart beats for you. Would you grant me the privilege of loving and caring for you for the rest of both of our lives…Willow will you marry me?”

He watched her big eyes fill with tears and she nodded her head quickly. “Yes yess I’ll marry you, I’ll marry you in every lifetime!” He hurried to grab the ring and hit onto his knees to place it onto her slim finger; it fit perfectly.

The shiny celadon green ring clashing with the creamy smooth brown skin of her hand was the perfect contrast, and she beamed internally and externally.

“You ready for some loving Mrs.Richmond?”

With a flirty smile and a bite of her lip she pulled him closer “Always ready Mr.Richmond !”

Promises of a 2025 baby had Terry flipping and tossing Willow every which way but loose,and the pillows behind the headboard? Useless. The bed squeaked and groaned under the ravenous couple who were hell bent on going straight through it. A permanent dent in the shape of them would be sure to form.

Hands locked with hers Terry rutted into her. “You want my babies… you want me to make you a mommy..hmm?” Expecting Willow to give him an answer right now was pure insanity as she shook and shuddered beneath him, the girl was literally dickmatized.

Rising slowly out of her stupor she locked her Legs around his hips. “Please daddy..yess I want you tooo, I want you to nut in me so badly!” Willow’s tongue slithered into the shell of his ear, nipping and sucking.

“Fuck me baby…harder. Uhn daddy my pussy…you’re so deep!” Opening his eyes to finally look down into hers he watched tears of pleasure cascade down her pretty face,her lip wedged between her teeth trying to quiet the loud screams in her throat.

“Mm mm let it out my baby… let daddy hear how good I’m fucking you…FUCK I can’t wait until you all swollen with MY babies!” Terry’s vision blurred and the veins in his neck protruded like they would pop from his strong neck. A loud sigh slipped from his mouth as his dick pushed out more cum than he’d ever thought he could produce, he was spent and he let his weight drop onto Willow.

He picked up her hand where the ring sat and kissed along her ring finger; his wife,his mate, and the future mother of his offspring. He lifted from her after some time and let his hot hand come down between them to press his palm onto her lower belly, almost like he was putting a spell on her womb to quicken her body into a pregnancy. His forehead sat in place of his hand and he pressed feather-like kisses to her soft belly, in a few weeks there’d be a baby forming inside.

“Thank you Willow. A lifetime of solitude would be worth fighting in every dimension if you were the end goal every time…I hope as your husband to one day pay you back tenfold for all you’ve made me feel and see in our time together.”

“What if I feel everything you just said? Before you I would’ve never imagined a love so sincere and sweet, it just didn’t seem possible for a girl like me…and yet here I am a wife to be with you by my side. It’s safe to say I’m the real winner here.”

The newly engaged couple stepped into the shower together high off of each others presence. They cleaned each other and washed each others face with their matching skincare products. Dressed in cozy holiday clothing and thick socks Terry insisted on finishing the tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches that Willow had abandoned earlier.

Once the food was ready the two cuddled on the plush sofa sharing a bowl,dipping the buttery cheesy sandwiches into the savory and herby soup. They coordinated hand feeding each other scraping the bottom of the bowl quicker than they’d like to.

A cheesy hallmark movie played in the background meanwhile the two sat lip locked for a second time since exiting the shower. Throw cover thrown over them and their wooded paradise turning into a mini water oasis, pure content rolled over them as a new brewing need for each other captured them. As long as Willow had Terry and Terry had Willow, the fast paced and ever changing world around them would never penetrate the shell their love provided.

———————————————————————————

A/N:Heyy guys (tucks hair behind ear)this is the end of my little beast in the woods fic. I really do hope yall enjoy and stick around a while if you’d like,for future updates with our favorite guy, I’m not done with him yet 🫦

@simplyzeeka @zillasvilla @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @playgurlxoxo @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @pocketsizedpanther @theereina @keyaho @brattyfics @uzumaki-rebellion @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @fakxmbj

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap one/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

Welcome To The Neighborhood

—> chapter two

summary: There’s a Bandit on the loose.

wc: 3.6k

warnings: 18+ series for eventual smut, 12 year age gap, reader is 30 and Steve is 42 otherwise none for this first installment :) it’s a meet cute baby.

author’s note: Here it is! chapter one of this little slow burn series with your painfully hot and confusing older!neighbor!widower!steve. This story will take place over the course of one summer, told in mostly blurbs of your chance encounters and run in’s with Steve. This series will have lots of pining, flirting, mild angst and eventual smut. Most chapters will range from 1-2k each except for a few. I hope you guys like reading about these two as much as I liked writing it & I hope to see you back next Wednesday! 🥹♥️

Series Masterlist // Playlist // The tune:

End of May —

Highways and state lines blur together like the buzzing of cicadas into busy Chicago streets. A fresh start. A new life. No plan - that was the promise you made to yourself ten years ago almost down to the date.

The excitement outweighs the embarrassment of how long it takes you to parallel park the Uhaul when you find that one in a million spot in front of your new home. Your hands are numb from the constant battle between the wind and your steering wheel. The breeze from the lake testing your strength for the last hour of your drive. The machine creaks loudly when you slam it into park, your legs wobbling like jello when your converse hit the pavement and out of your truck.

The city hits your ears like the humidity on your skin. The exposed parts of your thighs stick together when the thick air wraps around you like an unwanted blanket. Taking a deep breath, exhaust stings your lungs. Far away from the only place you’d ever known, it’s comforting the feeling that washes over you. You didn’t come here with an agenda. A fresh start with nothing to lose. You came here just to be you.

It seems like everyone is on their way to do something, going somewhere they have to be. They brush past you without even a glance in your direction, air pods buried deep in their ears caught up in their own little world. The sounds of dogs barking mingle with cars honking and loud conversations from patio bars the next block over. The city is alive with summer hanging fresh in the air.

The trees that line both sides of your street are lush and green from the moisture. They drape over phone lines, weeping under the heat of the sun. Bumper to bumper cars from all kinds of walks of life make the one way street even smaller. Mini gardens in front of mismatched houses only inches apart. This was your new home.

The three story townhouse is covered in dark green wooden paneling, the floors split up into separate apartments, and you managed to bag the top floor with protruding bay windows. Dumb luck mixed with being on craigslist minutes after they posted, you found the one mom and pop place in the city that fit your budget.

The chipped black metal gate that blocks off the front steps lands at your waist, and runs as a property line against an even nicer house next to yours. One that looks like it belongs to someone, not rented out to a bunch of someones. The bright red brick looks new, and the dark wood steps and patio freshly stained. An oriental rug that matches the house has chew toys with missing limbs littering the front entrance. A porch swing faces you and it sways gently with the wind. Your eyes catch the silhouette of someone on the other side of the stained glass in the middle of the thick mahogany door, and it reminds you to stop being so nosy.

Keys dangling in your hand, you take your first steps through the gate. The metal groans loudly before slamming closed behind you. You jog up the less polished, salt worn steps to your front door and the faint sound of a deep voice catches your ears from next door as you jiggle the lock open. Crossing through the threshold of the entryway you’re not surprised when there’s no reprieve to the heat, but disappointed just the same as you pull at our tank top that starts clinging to your skin. You eye the narrow staircase that curves up leading to your apartment, immediately regretting doing this alone. 

It takes you less time to unload than it did to load up, at least that's what you tell yourself as you round to the back of the open trailer. Sweat is slick against your skin and you thank yourself for keeping the previous owner's couch even if you thought it was an ugly shade of green.You stare pointedly at the four heaviest boxes left and you swear they mock you while you try to catch your breath from pushing your mattress to your room. The words ‘winter clothes’ scribbled sloppily in bright red marker make your face twist up.

“God dammit,”you breathe out running the back of your hand across your forehead trying to rally. Your A/C was already in the window and the cool air inside becomes your motivation.

You aren’t expecting the abrupt shove forward or the feeling of paws on your butt, sharp nails digging into the soft material of your shorts. Then you hear it, his voice.

“Bandit! Bandit - no! Down!”

Your hands hit the metal of the trailer stopping your fall under the weight of what you’re now realizing is an over excited fully grown German Shepherd. Pink tongue out with spit flying everywhere, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you when you turn around and he starts sniffing all over with a tail that wags a mile a minute. High pitched whines leave him when he realizes how much he wants you to play, but he accepts the scratches you offer behind his ears just the same. Body wiggling while also trying to stay still.

“Hi buddy!” you coo, your voice instantly slipping into the embarrassing one you only use for animals.

That’s when you see him. 

He has a few years on you, that part is obvious with the pepper that spots the sides of his honey colored hair and the scruff that lines his sharp jaw, but it only makes him look better. His broad shoulders are wrapped up tight in a white undershirt, the thick cotton telling you it was the kind that cost more than your phone bill. The black shorts he wears have a hem high enough to almost be inappropriate when you swear you see the outline of what’s underneath. The Nike swoosh near the slit at the top of his hairy thighs. His shoes match the color of his shorts, the On Cloud symbol etched on the side flashes in the light. Two hundred dollars on just his feet. 

The trained muscles in his arm flex when he runs a hand through his hair, catching the stray that flops over his forehead when he comes to a halt in front of you. The bright red leash clutched in his fist matches the color of his cheeks. Big hazel eyes meet yours after lingering on your curves a little too long, making you realize you’re showing off just as much skin as him. Clearing your throat, you tug at the bottom of your yoga shorts, willing them to grow just an inch longer with cheeks burning and not because of the sun.

“Sorry, I have a bad habit of getting him excited before I leash him up. I swear he’s friendly, are you okay? He didn’t scratch you or anything right?” 

You’re too distracted by his hands to comprehend his words, tendons moving under taut skin as he hooks Bandit’s hardness. The heat, the move, and the man all getting the best of you.

“Hey -“

His voice brings you back to reality, his brows furrowing over perfect features when he looks at you with genuine concern.

“Yes! Sorry, I’m fine. Honestly! I love dogs. The move in the heat, I think, I think it’s just getting to me.” You smile doing your best to calm the worried look on his face, and you swear you see him flush deeper because of it.

It’s his turn to clear his throat, left hand flexing like he’s looking for a ring that isn’t there. The skin is a lighter shade than the rest of him like there used to be. There’s a beat and an awkward silence before he finally notices the mostly empty trailer behind you. 

“Looks like you’re almost done though, top floor?” He questions rocking on his heels a little, pointing over his shoulder to your window. Your A/C is already dripping water onto the pavement.

“Yeah! You live in the building?”  Please say yes.

“Me? No.” He coughs a little uncomfortable, while you fight to stop the disappointment from showing on your face. “I umm, I actually live next door.” He winces, almost like he’s embarrassed.

“Anyway, sorry about Bandit. Your boyfriend is probably wondering where you’re at.” You don’t miss the way he assumes with a secret hope he’s wrong hidden behind the mossy greens of his eyes. 

“Probably,” you pause, ego boosting when you see him squirm, “If I had one.” You giggle and you hate the way your hips twist a little. 

That’s when he does it, he smiles, with all of his teeth. It’s just as blinding as it is contagious, and it makes your skin tingle, giddiness dripping from your limbs. It’s short lived though, like pieces of a puzzle clicking together you watch it disappear. It’s replaced by the same concern from before only with a new layer of disbelief.

“Wait, honey, who’s helping you move in then?” He looks at you stunned like he can’t fathom the answer he knows you're gonna give.

“The same person that drove here - me.” You grin a little proud with your chin pushed up and it makes his lips twitch, the same smile from before itching to come back.

“Let me at least help with these last few.” He peeks behind you, eyes scanning over your messy writing, “They look like they might be heavy.” 

He teases you just enough to earn a roll of your eyes, but the grin on your face makes him huff out a relieved laugh. Nerves like a first date twist in his gut when he sees the way you look at him from under your lashes.

“I mean, if you insist…?” you trail off, fishing for his name. 

“Steve, sorry! It's Steve, Steve Harrington.” He runs one of his big hands through his hair again, a nervous tell of his you pick up on instantly, before offering it out for you to take.

“I don’t think I caught that, can you repeat your name one more time for me?” Biting your lip into a smile, he narrows his eyes playfully, cheeks blooming, flustered from your words.

Sliding your hand into his, it disappears completely when he wraps his fingers around yours. The softness of his palm is warm like the sun that beat down on you all day and it sends electric currents running through your veins, heart thumping loudly in your chest and you wonder if he can hear the way he can hear it. Minutes pass before either of you make the first move to let go, or at least that’s what it feels like. It’s not until Bandit whines at your feet that Steve finally caves.

“Let me go put him back inside real quick, it’s still a little too hot out anyway and I’ll help you bring the last of this up, tough girl.” He winks with the kind of casualness that makes you question whether you saw it at all and you have to hold in the sigh that begs to slip past your lips.

“I’ll be waiting,” your voice cracks, your confidence slowly disappearing like the sun behind the hazed skyline. 

You try to cover it up by swooping down to give Bandit a kiss between the eyes. Only it backfires, making it worse when you realize how weirdly personal that was to do to someone else’s dog, despite the more than pleased wag of his tail.

“That - that was, oh god. I don’t know why I kissed your dog like I knew him. Or you. I’m - I’m sorry.”  You pinch the bridge of your nose, embarrassment rolling off of you in waves.

It’s not until you hear his laugh, and god is it pretty too, that you finally look up.

“It’s understandable, he’s a handsome guy.” Steve smirks with flirty eyes and it makes you dizzy. 

You can’t stop your giggle, the back of your hand doing little to hide your smile from him. Butterflies breaking from cocoons in your stomach as you watch him walk away to that big house right next to yours.

“What exactly do you have in these boxes?” Steve grunts as he follows you up the narrow staircase with two in tow despite your multiple warnings. 

“Winter coats, sweaters, maybe some boots...” you trail off trying to think, your disorganization more than evident when you open up your front door to even more boxes and bags spread out in disarray.

“You packed your coats and your boots in the same box?” His voice is muffled behind cardboard as the cool air hits, sending goosebumps across sweat-kissed skin. The low hum does something to dull your nerves when you work up the courage to turn around and finally face him. 

“Maybe! Who knows, I’ll find out tonight when I open it.”  

He huffs out a breathy laugh as his broad shoulders almost brush the sides of your door frame. Stepping one expensive sneaker in front of the other into your more than humble apartment, there’s a fleeting moment of regret about taking him up on his offer when your eyes dart around the mess. 

“Where am I puttin’ this boss?” His eyes meet yours from around the side of the boxes, playfulness filling the greens and browns like before.

The muscles in his arm flex when he re-establishes his hold on the box, the sleeves of his shirt getting tighter and the whites of his knuckles start to show. The simple brown leather band of his watch strains, and it makes your throat dry up.

“Ummm.” You shake your head, willing your brain to regain its normal function as you start a clumsy walk towards the direction of your bedroom. “We can put them in my -“

Your shoe hits something hard and you don’t have enough time to realize what’s happening until you're already on the ground. Palms flat against the scratched wooden floor and a sharp pain in your ankle. The culprit, an already half opened box labeled KITCHEN you must’ve left in the hallway when you got distracted by something else.

“Jesus, are you okay?” Steve sets the boxes down, pushing them against the wall and out of the way raking his hand through his hair again, it must be a stressed habit too. 

“Yeah, yeah, my ego is a little bruised but I think I’m gonna survive.” You try to smile, but only end up wincing when you go to push yourself up.

“Here, let's get you on the couch, let me take a look.” He doesn’t wait for your reply, both of his hands coming out to you in an offering. Stubbornness losing for once, you take them.  

He lifts you up like you’re weightless, moving you around with ease as he tucks you into his side. His fingers wrap around the curve of your hip to steady you. He’s warm, the pine of his body wash mixing with the spice of his cologne and it surrounds you in a strong hold. It's a short trip to your couch, his abs moving with each step, and you secretly wish it took just a little longer. 

He’s gentle when he untangles himself from you. Soft palms on your elbows to hold your balance as you sit down. There’s a hint of his aftershave that hits your nose as your muscles melt into the softness of the cushions, the day quickly catching up to you. Eyelids going droopy.

“Sitting was a mistake Steve,” you groan with a light stretch of your limbs, and another subtle wince.

“Well good thing you conned me into helping you with the last of your boxes then.” He waits a second before meeting your eyes as he pulls one of your many boxes over to sit on, his lips twisting up when he sees the way you scoff. 

“Conned you?! You practically begged me to let you help.” Your head bobs with attitude dripping from each word and it makes him grin. He nods furrowing his brows like he’s hearing you, but despite the limited time you’ve spent with him you knew whatever he was about to say was just going to egg you on more.

“I mean, if that’s what you need to tell yourself sweetheart. I remember it a little differently.” He can’t hold in his laugh when you roll your eyes hard at him trying to ignore the newest nickname.

His knees brush against yours when he finally takes his seat, the hem of his shorts rising higher, running tight against the muscle of his thigh. The cinnamon hair that covers his legs tickles you while the sun hits your bay window with just the right light to reveal an expanse of freckles and moles you didn’t see before under his five o’clock shadow and across the bridge of his nose. God, he’s handsome. 

His eyes catch yours like he can hear your thoughts, and for a moment you wonder if he actually can.

“Do you mind?” The teasing edge is gone, his eyes a little more soft when the tips of his fingers tap against your leg.

Your voice is lost in the shift in energy, static filling in the air between you when you shake your head ‘no’.’’ His touch is feather light when his fingers wrap gingerly around your ankle bringing your foot to his lap. He makes quick work of your laces, using extra care when he pulls off your shoe. The pad of his thumb rubs over the bruising bone and you notice the way he licks his lips.

“Does this hurt?” He applies a little bit of pressure to the spot just below your calf, his gaze making you nervous as he gauges your reactions.

“No,” it comes out a little breathless and he exhales deep through his nose because of it.

“How about here?” He does the same thing as before, only this time closer to your heel and you wince. “There it is,” he hums to himself, rubbing soothing circles as an apology.

“Like on a pain scale of one to ten, I’d give it a three and a half or four” you tell him, when really you’re too proud to admit it’s actually a five.

“Three and a half? You can’t use that. Solid number only,” he scoffs meeting your eyes from under his lashes, the forest inside them turning black.

“I actually think I can do whatever I want,” you laugh incredulously, your toes wiggling under black socks in his lap.

“I guess it is your house, I stand corrected.” Steve admits defeat with an exaggerated sigh before showing you his teeth in a wide grin, his thumb still rubbing circles because it never actually stopped. “Do you have an ice pack?” 

Your finger drums against your bottom lip as you think about everything you had packed, his eyes fixated on the way you lightly pull it down with each tap.

“I don’t remember and if I’m being completely honest I don’t think so.” You look sheepish when you admit your lack of first aid supplies to him.

He chuckles lightly, hot breath fanning against your skin with a shake of his head.

“I think I have one, I’ll grab it and bring those other two boxes up. Keep your foot elevated for me tonight tough girl. Unpack your chaos tomorrow.” He mocks the way your jaw drops at his teasing.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were tryin’ to take care of me Steve.” The joke is innocent, at least that’s what you thought. 

Something clicks behind his eyes, the warmth draining from his smile when it falls. His brows furrow and he won’t look at you anymore, his thumb stops rubbing those circles, and your foot is placed gently back on the ground. He’s standing up faster than you can catch your breath, faster than you can comprehend.  The energy shifts to something distant and the warm summer is replaced with frigid winter. He clears his throat with glassy eyes scratching the back of his neck, and you have no idea what you did.

“Hey I’m sorry if I -“

He cuts you off before you can finish.

“You didn’t do anything, It’s me - look, I’m just gonna go get those things. I’ll leave it at your door, please just elevate your foot. You should be okay by tomorrow.” He doesn’t let you respond, long legs taking him out of your place and leaving you to wonder what you did wrong. 

Your head lulls against the back of the couch, staring fixated on the old popcorn ceiling of your living room for what feels like twenty minutes as you replay everything back. Over analyzing his tones and body language coming up empty every time. This was going to drive you crazy.

There’s three raps on your front door, one coming down hard followed by two quick knocks. When you stand up this time, it hurts less, more true to the pain level you gave him as you slightly hobble to answer.

When you open it, your two boxes are stacked where he promised. A dark blue ice pack with a yellow sticky note that says:

beta’d by @superblysubpar 💕 (also made the cute post it for me 🥹)

dividers by @newlips 💗

chapter two

[dilfartist]

Missed - short

Pairing; Yandere Las Plagas Leon Kennedy x reader

Synopsis; after healing Ashely from the Las Plagas, Leon is unable to heal himself. Now fully infected with the Las Plagas, Leon returns home to you.

Reader description; Female/GN

Word count; 1k

TW;dark themes, Leon being crazy is so hot.

!Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!

“Fuck, please start! Please start! Please start!” you cried ramming your car keys into the ignition. Regardless of the number of times you twist the keys, the car refuses to start. “No! Why, god!?” you choke, tears welling up and stinging your eyes.

You study the parking lot through the side-view mirror. Aside from parked vehicles, it was empty. Still, you felt the coil tightening in your stomach. Leon was bound to come any moment. And thanks to the abundance of entrances, he was free to enter wherever.

Instinctively, you press the lock button on the keys. All doors click reassuringly. Now you sit in your car, granting yourself the opportunity to settle your nerves.

What the hell had happened to Leon? One week ago you break up because of his constant absence, then today he’s pounding on your apartment building nearly taking the door off its hinges.

Leon pounding on the door wasn't too out of the ordinary, considering Leon, if given too much to drink, could be an obnoxious drunk. Nevertheless, his knocking was extremely harsh. Like he meant to knock down the door. Despite the clear red flag, you risked unlocking the door but completely halted when your cell phone aggressively vibrated in your pocket. Just as you answered the call, Leon’s banging ceased.

“Whatever you do, do not open that door!” a voice demanded urgently.

Without question, you compled. You simply backed away from the door. Again the voice commanded you sternly, “Grab a weapon. Use it if Leon manages to break in. And if he does, rush out of the door, do you understand?” you responded with an agreeing noise.

Leon begins pounding on the door once again. His muffled voice was audible, transferring through the door's thick wood to your ears. “I know you fucking hear me, (Name)! Answer this fucking door!”

You gape at the door. Leon never acted this way. Not even during arguments. Leon hated the idea of raising his voice at you, and even when he slipped, Leon corrected himself instantly. Something was terribly wrong. You reached over and clasped the largest knife poking outside the knife block.

Leon started hurling himself against the door, each hit included the sound of the door breaking. Before Leon could see you, you jumped into the closet adjacent to the front door. Not much after, Leon busted the door down; the door plunging to the ground with a deafening thud.

Placing your hand on your mouth, you watched through the thin closet slots as Leon stomped his way inside. Something undoubtedly was wrong with Leon. His peach-colored skin littered up to the bottom with visible dark veins. It looked unhealthy. Like Leon had been struck by lighting only a second ago.

He proceeded to your bedroom and you took the advantage. You bustled out of the closet, rushing out the door. Without looking back, you ran over to the elevator. Needing a distraction you pressed the down button on the elevator, hoping Leon would think you took the elevator and use the staircase beside it, whilst you utilized the exit on the other side of the hall.

The idea worked. The door slamming and footfalls descending the stairs was enough evidence.

So here you were in your car, chewing on your nails, fearing your ex-boyfriend’s arrival. You scanned the parking lot again, it stayed the same as the previous time. Just then your phone rang, startling you. Shaikly, you attain your phone from your pocket. The voice on the last call answers, “Miss. (Last name)?”

“Who is this? What the hell happened to Leon!?”

“I understand your stress, but please remember to keep calm.” the person advised calmly. “For starters, Leon works for us. Last week we sent him on a trip to Spain, unfortunately for Leon, he has obtained a virus. Fortunately for us, the woman he was sent to retrieve is safe and sound.”

“So?! I don’t care about the girl, whoever she is, I care about Leon!” you bark, voice quivering with anger.

“Well, when Leon returned to headquarters, he blacked out. It was impressive seeing how far he made it, evaluating the progress of the virus. We kept him safe, testing on him; and endeavoring to cure him. Sadly we haven't still. And that brings us to your situation. Leon, earlier this afternoon, escaped from containment. All week Leon spoke of his girlfriend, so we assumed he made his way to your apartment. We were right.”

“Now, I must warn you, Leon is dangerous. He’s not in his right mind at the moment. We’ll be able to further examine him, and help him if you lead him back to us. Are you able to do that?”

You shake your head, “No. The damn car won't cut on.”

“Alright, then we’ll send someone to your coordinates. Stay inside the car.” the person insists.

“Yeah. Okay, I will.”

The call ends and you are left gazing at the screen, slowly processing what was explained. You knew Leon worked in some secret agency, but this was on another level of strange.

“(Name)!” your name is roared malevolently. You shriek at the sight of Leon peering inside the car, hands pressed against the glass, red eyes meeting yours. “(Name), baby, open this door,” Leon spoke in his usual soft tone that only you experience. The tone that makes you malleable, and weak in the knees. “I’ve missed you. Been thinking about you all week. Those assholes kept us apart, but I'm here now.” Leon conversed with such sweetness it was beginning to make you physically sick.

Leon's visage also was painted with dark veins, his skin paler than before: Reminding you of how sick Leon really was. You wanted to help him. Wanted to hold him. But you wouldn't.

You shook your head, avoiding eye contact. “No, Lee,” you professed. “Y-you aren't okay, I won't let you in.”

Leon merely smiled. A sicking smile that sent chills dancing up your spine.

“Oh, but I am baby. Now open the door, I’ve missed you.”

Part 2

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 15

part 1 | part 14 | ao3

“Please please please please pleeeeease,” Dustin whines, tugging hard on the hem of Steve’s shirt.

“Dude get off me.” He slips the last of the leftover containers into the fridge, slams the door shut, and turns to glare at Dustin, who oh-so-conveniently had to step out after dinner to ‘walkie Lucas about a homework question’ and left Steve and Eddie to do the washing up.

In the absence of a Henderson buffer, the air between them had pretty immediately gone stale. Hesistant and charged, overly formal; fucking weird. Eddie moves like a weirdo, sways his hips out of the way of counter corners instead of walking a straight path, like some swaggering drunken pirate, and he spent the last ten minutes awkwardly traipsing around the perimeters of the kitchen as if Steve were a landmine he might set off at any time.

So yeah.

Steve’s feeling a little ungracious at the moment. “Seriously, what is so important that you can’t just show it to us tomorrow?”

“Ummm, scientific discovery? Wonder at the natural world around us?? Where’s your sense of adventure, Steve?”

“The last time I followed my sense of adventure out to your cellar I almost got—” His eyes cut sharply to Eddie, who’s doing a terrible job of pretending not to eavesdrop. Steve scrambles for a way to end his sentence that isn’t eaten by a creature with a razor flower for a face. “—uh, mauled.”

“Mauled?” Eddie asks, eyes bugging out. “Henderson, I’m not following you into the woods to get to turned into some feral thing’s chew toy, man.”

“It was fine,” Dustin insists, covertly kicking Steve in the shin.

Steve thinks of his NDAs and plays along. “Y-yeah. Totally fine. It was just, like, a rabid raccoon or something.”

“That… does not sound fine.”

“It’s cool,” Steve tries to reassure him (no idea why, really; that cellar’s nightmare fuel.) He throws a dish towel over his shoulder, nods his head decisively. “I’ll bring my nail bat with us.”

“You’ll fucking bring your what?”

—

Steve drags his nail bat through the leaves on the narrow trail, the wood thudding along behind him as they make their way to the cellar, a detached storm shelter at the far edge of the lot. It’s dark out here. And cold. His breath hangs in a puff of wet fog when he mutters, “Seriously, Dustin, this better be Noble Prize worthy stuff.”

“It’s Nobel,” Eddie says.

“Huh?”

“The, uh- the prize? It’s No-bel.”

“….Well, that’s stupid.”

“Why would it be Noble?” Eddie snorts, but his eyes are curious and kind.

“Because— because you have to be Noble to earn it? I don’t know!” Eddie laughs like he finds the answer cute. Steve doubles down. “That makes perfect sense, and you know it. A Noble Prize for a Noble Effort. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong,” Dustin grunts as he unlocks the cellar doors. “Now come on.”

—

The cellar's just as creepy as Steve remembers: low ceiling, dusty cement blocks, a single, sad lightbulb dangling on a string. He eyes the dark corner on the far side of the squat room, bricked up now but it wasn't before; there were tunnels under here, once, vast networks like blood vessels to the beating heart of a monster Steve still can't fully comprehend. He grips the bat a little tighter.

"—Shit," Dustin says suddenly, cutting himself off mid-ramble about how cool his latest science project is, how it puts Cerebro to shame. "I forgot the remote." "You want me to go get it?" Steve offers. "No!" Dustin says it in a rush, then stammers, "No, that's okay. You won't know what to look for." He seems nervous. Jittery. Maybe the cellar creeps him out, too. "Be right back, just wait here."

"Grreeeat," Eddie replies as Dustin jogs back up the stairs, cupping his hands around his mouth to call sarcastically after him, "We'll just be loitering in your murder basement, then; take your time!"

With Dustin gone, there’s nothing to do but stand there metaphorically twiddling their thumbs. Steve’s idly swinging his bat in a wide sweep around his calves, and Eddie’s staring at the ground, scuffing the toe of his shoe into a streak of dirt, arms crossed over his chest, head bowed. He’s humming something that Steve can't quite make out, but it doesn't sound like the stuff he usually blasts from his van. It's softer. Easy. Almost pop.

“Hey, wait a sec...” Steve holds up a finger, turning his good ear toward the stairs. The leafy crunch of footsteps isn’t getting any quieter, and now it sounds like there are two pairs, getting louder; circling back. “You hear that?”

Eddie nods. Looks serious and spooked. Steve raises his bat, a sudden spike of fear; he creeps over to the stairs. “Hey,” he calls to the darkness. The rustling noise picks up, a swish of movement through the brush, and then the crrrrroak of something metal. Something heavy, groaning on its—

Hinges. Hinges. Son of a bitch, the cellar doors. “Hey!” he shouts, breaking into a run. “HEY—!”

BOOMMMM.

The doors slam shut with a heavy crash and the grating clink of more metal scraping metal. Steve bolts up the stairs, shoves with all his strength against the slanted doors above him. The doors don’t budge. “What the fuck?” Eddie shouts from the bottom of the stairs.

Steve pounds against the doors. “HENDERSON?”

Eddie comes up to join him, using his forearms like battering rams to try to bash the doors open. His voice cracks when he hollers, “Henderson, for real, man! I-if this is some kinda- some kinda sick fucking joke it isn’t funny!!”

“It’s for your own good!!” a voice that isn’t Dustin yells through the gap in the doors, and Eddie squawks, “MIKE?”

Mike?? MIKE?? Oh, that goddamned ungrateful, conniving little—

“We just wanted you two to talk to each other!” Mike says.

Dustin adds, “For real this time."

“Yeah, for real this time!”

Steve punches the doors, and Eddie bares his teeth like he can scorch a hole through the metal with the heat of his glare alone. “Wheeler, you are SO dead!!”

“So fucking dead!!!” Steve agrees.

---

part 16

tag list below the cut, comment if you want to be added tomorrow (or dm me if you want to be removed)

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[luvsellie]

PEOPLE WATCHING [j. maybank]

pairing jj maybank x fem!reader

summary jj ignoring one of his friends is strange. and off-putting. so when he does it to you, argument ensues and indifferent confessions toward one another begin to spill.

warnings rafe being an ass, mentions of abuse, semi based on s1 ep5 but also not?? don’t expect anything regarding the obx plot, reader is in a similar situation to sarah and kie’s social standing (kook-turned-pogue) !

wc 3.1k

note this song just SCREAMS jj i couldn’t not write something inspired by it! also this man is so ‘angsty-love-confession-in-the-rain’ coded why didn’t the obx writers take that chance when they had it >:(

you never thought you would see the day that jj deliberately ignored you. sure, he hated talking about his feelings, and he was too stubborn for his own good, but he had never once gone out of his way to avoid your presence. until now.

“he won’t even look at me,” you hissed at kie, eyes glued to the blond who maneuvered around groups of people, the tray in his hands lacking drinks. he had a smile on his face regardless, making small quips at people as he passed them.

kie huffed, moving her body to block off your view of jj. her lilac dress shimmered in the orange light as she said, “just give him some time. he’ll come around. he always does.”

you chewed on the inside of your cheek, spinning the ring on your index finger as you continued to try and get a clear view of him. “yeah. i guess you’re right.” 

the girl in front of you grinned in a way that seemed to say i always am.

still mildly offset about jj’s attitude toward whatever it is that you had done to upset him, you took a step back from kie, situating yourself so you could comfortably watch him once again. as you did, you noticed his back was now to you, topper, kelce, and rafe appearing to slowly herd him toward the building. the trio of men wore smug smiles, and before you knew it jj had lost his tray and swung open one of the glass doors, sprinting in the direction of the restrooms.

your eyebrows knitted together in sudden urgency, hand already swatting at kiara’s bare shoulder. “kie. kie they’re chasing him-”

“who’s- oh. oh,” kie said aridly.

“we have to go,” you told her, already gathering the skirt of your sage-green dress in a hand.

kie grabbed your arm quickly. “and do what? stab them with the back of our heels?”

“if that’s what it takes,” you told her stubbornly, ripping your bicep from her grip. “stay here if you want, i don’t care, but i’m going to go help the best i can.”

you didn’t wait for her response as you started in the direction of the door, gait switching between an uneven combination of a speedwalk and a run. whether or not jj was mad at you, nothing was going to stop you from assisting him in any way possible, especially if he was severely outnumbered. rafe was practically psychotic, his solution to everything was always violence, and topper and kelce only egged him on.

the cool a/c brought goosebumps to your skin, a chill shivering its way down your spine as you swept past people and furniture. fortunately, you spotted the dark-colored bathroom door, the sound of disgruntled male voices seeping through the wood. when you recognized jj’s, you didn’t hesitate to push past the barrier, deciding the consequences could be left for future you to deal with.

middle-age men immediately protested to your appearance, but you ignored them as you hurried in the direction of the overlapped voices, and, sure enough, you found yourself walking into the midst of the kooks jumping jj.

none of the boys noticed your presence, too wrapped up in whatever they were doing to grow aware of their surroundings. 

your attention zoned in on your beat-up-looking friend, the sight of kelce retaining him in a jarring choke hold resulting in your sudden outburst of, “what the fuck is going on?”

“oh, look who’s decided to join us,” rafe leered, his grin growing twice as big. jj continued to struggle against kelce’s grasp, saying your name dryly as his eyes jumped from you to the oldest cameron sibling.

“the hell is wrong with all of you?” your glare turned to kelce, his eyes narrowed in vain. “let him go or i swear to god…”

rafe’s face only continued to dwell with enlightenment at your interruption. he stood up straight and took a long stride in your direction, forcing you to spin toward him. he put less than a foot between his body and yours. “or you’ll do what-”

the air stilled as you slapped the man across the cheek, your palm stinging from the impact. even though he towered over your smaller person, you still sneered up at him, gaze narrowed as if he were no more than the scum on the bottom of your shoe. “you’re not the only one in this town who has a powerful father, rafe cameron. yours just happens to have the worst reputation.”

rafe’s fingers ghosted the flushed skin where you had struck him, eyebrows beginning to knit together as his familiar rage started to surface. he barely had time to speak, “you fucking bitch-” before someone cut in.

the flickering lights caught everyone’s regard, and you watched stiffly as kelce instantly released jj and spun on his heels. “gentlemen. ma’am,” a security guard addressed, “is there a problem here?”

jj was quick to jump in, rushing to say, “pardon me, officer, i just…” his blue eyes caught yours, but they jumped back the man in the black tux before you could give him a warning glance. “we just- well, actually, yes, there is an issue. we have a criminal trespass in progress here.”

you knew he was just doing the best he could to get you both out of the situation, yet you didn’t mask your rather disgusted expression as he continued.

“beep! call it in, right?” the blond urged. “blatant disrespect for private property.”

the boys around you nodded, avoiding eye contact with the guard. multiple yeahs circled the room.

“we’re in violation of all kinds of shit, sir,” jj said, barely taking the motion to glance at you over his shoulder. he turned to kelce, plastering on a fake smile. he began to straighten the cyan-colored bow tie. “but these young gentlemen…” his hand was quickly swatted away. “...uh, caught us, sir, and they were about to take us away. which is what you should do; escort us out of here.”

you watched as jj offered up his wrists before looking back at you. his brows jumped to his hairline in a silent plea to just go along with the nonsense spewing out of his mouth. still mildly irritated at him and everything about whatever the fuck is going to happen as a repercussion, you exhaled sharply and took a few steps in his direction, sending a glare in rafe’s direction.

your arm brushed against jj’s as you mimicked his actions. “you caught us, officer.”

the man rolled his eyes, but reached behind you, hands roughly grabbing onto yours and jj’s biceps. “come on.”

but jj seemed to feel that he needed to add to the situation, his adhd never failing to shine in moments like these. he turned to kelce again as rafe moved closer, topper behind him. “fix that tie, son. oh, and you’re lookin’ quite spiffy too. you powerpuff girls have fun, alright?”

just as the guard was about to lead you both through the exit, rafe shouted your name. “you know you’re pretty hot for a ‘pogue!’”

jj spun before you could even react, already storming in the direction of the smirking boy. ‘mister security’ left you standing in the doorway as he trudged over to the beginnings of a fight and ripped your friend from the group. “let’s go,” he snuffed, shoving the blond harshly.

you avoided jj’s aggravated gaze as you locked eyes with rafe, still being pushed by the man. raising a hand, you flipped him off. “suck my dick, cameron.”

“knock it off,” the guard said, his fingers squeezing the flesh of your arm. his warning compelled you to turn away, huffing air through your nose in annoyance.

rafe scoffed a laugh from his spot, highly entertained by the sight before him. “hey, safe travels back to the cut, you two!”

“this shit ain’t over!” jj hollered, earning a harsh shove in the direction of the exit.

as the man directed you and jj out of the building, you made a point to not bother interacting with the boy, ignoring his existence entirely, just as he had done to you previously. talking to him at the moment would only result in yelling at each other, and the idea of that was rather repulsive.

finally pushing past one of the glass doors, you attempted to wrench your arm away. it only ended with the guard’s hands squeezing even tighter. “dude, i can walk by myself- let me go.”

jj tried the same thing as you passed a distressed-looking kiara. “yeah, we have legs. can’t you see that, daryl? and, hey, thanks for the ‘discretion.’ let us just walk out by ourselves, yeah?”

nearly stumbling on stairs because of your heels, you made a noise out of exasperation, eagerly pulling back. “give me- oh my god, just let us go!” as heads started to turn in your direction, you desperately hoped that one of your parents would show up, but as daryl continued to haul you and jj (who continuously made comments to the people he passed) away from everything, you made one last hopeless attempt to get him to let go.

“wait!” you said, this time actually tripping on your heels. faking a stumble, you very nearly successfully fell out of daryl’s grasp. “these shoes are killing my feet. let me at least take them off if you insist on dragging us through the mud.”

he rolled his eyes, but loosened his grip.

bending slightly, you raised your left foot off the ground, undoing the buckle of your heel. as you stepped out of the shoe, you went to do the other, stealing a glimpse at jj. this is too easy.

finally standing on the bare ground, you turned back to daryl, shoving your heels to his chest. “would you mind holding these for me? thanks.” using the best of your strength, you threw him off, jj happily doing the same, and began backing in the opposite direction just as your father appeared from behind mr. carrera. his face went from confusion to anger in the span of less than three seconds, and you knew you’d be in for the biggest lecture of your life when you confronted your parents later. but for now, all you wanted to do was get off the property.

and jj seemed to have a similar idea, as his fingers brushed against your left hand, gesturing with the jut of his chin when you made eye contact with him. “come on.”

unable to help the satisfied smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth, you turned away, quickly following jj into the darkness as kie called after you.

“okay, i think we’re far enough,” you huffed heavily, slowing to a walk beside jj.

he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair as he nodded. for once he had nothing to say, and it made you stop on the sidewalk.

“so that’s it?” you started, grabbing his elbow and forcing him to look at you. “you’re just going to go back to ignoring me? after everything that just happened back there? at least tell me what i did for you to treat me like this.”

his blue eyes averted your own as he chewed on his busted bottom lip.

“what did i do, jj?” you asked as your arm fell back to your side, annoyance slipping into despair. “just tell me.”

jj looked at you, and even in the strained moonlight could you just now see how badly his upper left cheek was bruising. he was fiddling with the hem of his white button-up shirt as he stood, stubbornly remaining quiet.

sighing, you took a step closer, the pavement cool under your bare feet. he flinched back when you went to raise a hand. you licked your lips. “did…did rafe and the others do this?”

stiffening, jj lifted his chin and looked down at you, his expression morphed into something between disgust and vacancy. “no,” was all he said.

“oh,” you breathed, your body running cold, even in the humid night air. of course. “maybe you should come back home with me. i can-”

“no,” jj repeated more firmly, shaking off your words. “no, i don’t need your pity right now. go back to midsummers. you and kie looked like you were having loads of fun.”

you scoffed in sudden disbelief, realizing what this was about—why he had been ignoring you for nearly a full day. “i’m not- i’m not offering to care for you out of pity,” you told him bitterly. “you’re my friend, jj, and i’ll always try and protect you when i can. i’m sorry that you’re too naive to realize and accept that.”

jj took a step back, his hands balling into fists as he shook his head. “i don’t need your protection. i don’t need your compassion, or whatever the hell you wanna call it,” he spat. “and i don’t need you.”

“you’re just saying that,” you protested quickly, swallowing down the crack in your voice and blinking back the sharp sting of tears.

shaking his head again, jj’s lips pressed into a thin line. “go back to that big, shiny house of yours.” he wasted no time in turning around, his back straight as he walked away, the clarity of his figure growing less and less as he retreated.

unable to process the moment, you ran a hand over your face, forcing yourself to keep your composure and not yell out to him. what the fuck just happened? you thought, panic beginning to set in as jj officially disappeared around the block.

what am i going to do?

the house was quiet when you entered, and after a quick call for your parents, you realized they were still partying away at the country club. it was somewhat of a relief.

feet sore and dirty, you began to rid yourself of your jewelry, unclasping the chains around your neck and picking off the rings on your fingers. you set them on your nightstand as you shut your bedroom door, immediately falling onto your bed.

lying back to stare at the beige ceiling, you inhaled deeply, running through the events that had taken place. and it had all ended in jj leaving you. for how long, you didn’t know—didn’t even want to think about it. so, with one last sigh, you stood from your mattress, stripped yourself down, and headed toward the bathroom, already thinking up a plan for tomorrow.

“look, i wasn’t trying to make a scene,” you explained over the phone, shrugging your shoulders even though your parents couldn’t see. “it just…happened, i guess. i’m sorry.” there was a tense pause, filled by the sound of your dad sighing on the other end of the line. “can i please go now? we can talk as soon as i get home later, i swear.”

you heard unintelligible whispers before your mom said, “you cannot keep blowing us off.”

“i know, i know.” you really did not want to have this conversation when you were nearly at jj’s house, the sky murky with dark clouds. “again, i’m sorry, but you know i don’t normally do stuff like this, so can you guys please ease off?” 

“fine. only for a few hours. i want you home soon, it’s supposed to storm today. we will talk later.” your dad said roughly, irritation laced in his voice.

shoulders visibly sagging, you couldn’t help but nod in relief. “yes, thank you. love you both.” with that, you impatiently clicked the red button on the screen as jj’s house appeared. pocketing your phone, you spotted the blond in his yard, squatting next to his red dirt bike. and for a split second, you were just happy to see him, the events circling last night forgotten.

you approached quietly, making just enough noise to let him know someone was walking over. as his head turned, your jaw went slack at the fresh bruise blooming along his jawline. you cleared your throat. “hi.”

“hey.” jj returned to his bike.

“i, uh…i came to talk.” thunder rumbled from somewhere above. “about last night. about us.”

the entire way here you rehearsed what you were going to say, switching things out or removing them completely, but now, when he stood and looked over at you with a somewhat pissed-off expression, you found your tongue to be dry and your mind blank.

“what’s there to talk about.” he said it more like a statement and less like a question. “there’s nothing to talk about.” 

you licked your lips as droplets started to wet your shoulders and scalp. “we both know that’s not true, jj.”

he wiped his hands on a cloth before tossing it into an open toolbox. shaking his head and sauntering forward, he said again, “there isn’t anything to talk about. you say you care about me, but you don’t. you don’t. do yourself a favor and stop lying to yourself. stop lying to me.”

“no, i do care, okay?” the raindrops began to fall harder, yet the only thing you were worried about was getting your point across. getting jj to understand. “i have cared about you for as long as i have known you. that first night at the chateau with the others…when you finally let me in…i didn’t know then, but i know now—i love you. a lot.”

jj scoffed and shook his head with an incredulous smile, his stare glued to the soaked grass, ignoring the weight of your confession. “you don’t know anything, alright? that night didn’t mean anything to anyone.”

“yes, it did!” you persisted loudly, frustrated with both him and yourself.

“no, it didn’t!” he snapped, reaching forward and grabbing the sides of your shoulders in exasperation. when you flinched at his yelling, a sudden wave of realization washed over him, and he released you with a step back, blinking rapidly against the rain. “nothing happened; nothing is happening.” he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than you. “you’re a kook. and i’m a pogue. we belong on two very different sides of this island.”

“jj,” you said softly. he remained still, hair stuck to the sides of his face as you went to cup it, palms resting against his wet skin. “just give in. for one pathetic second just forget about the social economic standing of everything and give in to me. please.” you weren’t sure whether the wetness on your face was your tears or the rain. “i know you want to, but you aren’t letting yourself. nothing you say or do will push me away. you’re stuck with me, pogue or not.”

his gaze flickered vicariously between your eyes and mouth, internally fighting with his own feelings. but, ultimately, you could see that your words had struck deep enough—that as the chill of cold water drenched your clothes and hair, as his warm fingers wrapped delicately around your wrists, thumbs sliding against your skin, you had won.

© luvsellie 2023 | do not repost, republish, steal, or translate !!

[potatobugz]

sometimes when i think about demon slayer for too long i remember that tanjiro and zenitsu and inosuke and genya and kanao and muichiro and nezuko r all teenagers. they are not even adults. child. children.

hey guys did u know that tanjiro was Thirteen Years Old when his family died

[hush-writes-preg]

Spooky Season Day #22

Summary: [Dominant AFAB reader] A classic werewolf attack (and breeding) with a twist-- sometimes even a werewolf will bite off more than it can chew. Wordcount: 1,760

Themes: Werewolf breeding, werewolf pregnancy, nonhuman pregnancy, outdoor sex, dominant pregnant individual

You started your day searching for wood, but apparently the universe had a weird sense of humor, because it gave you something else entirely.

The forest just outside your tiny village held plenty of firewood, but few dared to venture far into its dark, imposing depths. Hushed stories spoke of faeries and monsters and all sorts of fantastical beasts just waiting to snap up a distracted traveler. Even hunters shied away from it, no matter how lean times got, unwilling to risk their lives to the unknown.

You, however, didn't care much for such campfire stories. You could handle yourself. You might be short and wiry, but the years you'd spent working the farm with your father and brothers had honed the feminine form you'd been born with into one just as rugged and masculine as theirs. You'd proven yourself through many a rough-and-tumble brawl with the other village boys, too. Nobody would guess from a simple glance that your clothing hid secrets.  

And you preferred it that way.  

You'd gathered half a load of wood when you heard the crunch of a twig snapping somewhere behind you. You didn't react, for you'd been listening to whatever-it-was for some time. Something dogged your heels, something quick and quiet and following you with the ruthless persistence of a predator, but you didn't feel fear. If anything, the prospect of a good fight left your nerves humming with anticipation.

Leaves shifted. The faint chitter of birdsong quieted.  

Your fingers tightened around your axe as you subtly shifted your weight, ready for whatever might come.  

The first blow came at your right shoulder, but your stalker hadn't expected you to be prepared when it finally pounced. 

The two of you tumbled across the forest floor, grappling for dominance in a heated dance that could mean the difference between life and death. Claws tore at your clothes, and wicked teeth snapped inches from your fragile human skin, but you gave as good as you received, blocking the worst of its attacks with the haft of your axe and landing a few blows of your own.

In retrospect, you probably shouldn't have won that fight. The creature stood over a head taller than you, its body heavily corded with muscle, but you moved with an agility that it couldn't hope to match. So when the blade of your axe somehow found the vulnerable curve of its throat, it had no choice but to freeze.

Straddling the beast's hips, you stared down at the creature beneath you, your panting breaths meeting its faint growls in a harsh melody. The burning heat of its curse-twisted form leeched into your thighs. You could feel it flex its powerful body, testing your weight and the sharpness of your weapon. It was large and furry, and reeked of a unique combination of fresh sweat and musk that made something jolt in your gut.

A werewolf.

You've subdued a freaking werewolf.

You should have been terrified, yet you couldn't draw your eyes away from the fearsome creature.

The werewolf stared back, its dark gaze fathomless above a long, furred snout. Its black nose twitched with an obvious inhale.

Then its eyes narrowed.

"What, didn't think you could be bettered, pup?" you sneered, leaning more of your weight against your blade. "Just because you're a little fuzzy doesn't mean I'm gonna take one look at you and run off like a spooked fawn."

A curious shudder vibrated through the creature's body even as it snarled, its dagger-like teeth bared in obvious threat.

No, not it. He.

For the furry sheath pressed intimately against your groin began to twitch and swell as you watched, revealing a hint of something red at the tip.

Your breath caught in your throat. The feral masculinity of the creature at your mercy sparked a strange heat in your belly, a kind you couldn't recall ever feeling before. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of your attacker's arousal, and you didn't think that was normal. "Like that, did you?" You impulsively rocked your hips, rubbing yourself teasingly against him. "It's always the big, bad boys who secretly wanna be pinned down."

The werewolf's lips curled back, venom in its gaze, but the shaft nudging against your crotch jerked. 

Fuck, the friction felt good.  

You shouldn't want it, but the thought of taking that thick, alien cock inside of you left sent a surge of liquid heat through your core. 

Your trousers were already torn from the earlier scuffle, and it wouldn't take much effort at all to shift the homespun fabric a little to the side and– 

"Fertile." A single word somehow forced its way from a jaw not intended for speech, low and gravely and barely intelligible. The werewolf's long tongue lapped at its lips before it inhaled again, a whine rising from its throat.  

Fertile. 

You glanced down at the flat plane of your belly, towards the womb hidden just out of sight. Could the werewolf smell the arousal heating your blood? Or did it scent something else?  

"Smell something you like, pup?" You rubbed yourself against him again, not bothering to hide the smirk on your face as you took advantage of his helplessness. "What makes you think you can just ambush someone in the woods and take what you want without asking? Maybe you need a taste of your own medicine."

The werewolf growled again, a line of drool glistening on its muzzle. Those dark eyes remained narrowed in anger, but something feral burned there, too, something that threatened to engulf you. A fur-covered Adam's apple bobbed in its throat while the engorged shaft between its legs rose to full, glorious mast.  

Gods above and below. It wanted this as much as you did!

"Tell you what. You lay there nice and still like a good boy, and I'll take what I want. And maybe you'll get your rocks off along the way. Deal?"

That long tongue slipped out again, as much a nervous tic as it was a sign of anticipation, just before your subdued monster gave the very faintest of nods.

One hand continued holding the head of the axe to its throat while the other groped blindly between your legs, shifting just enough fabric aside to clear the way to your dripping hole. You weren't about to risk removing your trousers for this. Besides, the thought of mounting it mostly clothed only made your lust burn hotter. You unwaveringly held the werewolf's gaze as you guided the bright red head to your entrance, your breath hitching at the first nudge. "Stay," you ordered.

And just like that, you sank down.  

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck oh fuck.  

You've had a few lovers in your time, but none of them filled you as thoroughly as this bad-tempered beast. The work-toned muscles of your powerful thighs flexed like steel rope every time you lifted yourself almost free, only to impale yourself again with a pleasured grunt. 

But the werewolf wasn't a lover– no, it was nothing but a toy in this moment, and a hell of one at that.  

The thick, inhuman shaft stretching you out nearly made your eyes roll back in your head. Already the juices of your need ran slick between your thighs and dampened the creature's fur. For its part, the werewolf remained mostly still, though its clawed fingers flexed and dug deep furrows in the earth beneath it every time you ground down on its cock. Gasping, cursing, groaning, you rode your deadly plaything into the damp fall leaves, never taking your eyes off him.

"Damn, you feel good," you muttered, tossing the hair out of your eyes. "Got a nice cock for a monster. Bet you didn't expect this to happen when you jumped me, did you?"

The werewolf's hips jolted up in spite of the threat at its neck, driving it roughly into your eager body. "Smelled you," it rasped, the sound edged in a whine. "Needed it."

It smelled you? 

What was that supposed to mean?

You shoved your axe even harder against the creature's neck, slicing away fur and pressing metal to bare skin. "Shut up," you huffed, clenching your hole around it. "Don't wanna hear you while I'm getting off, you mangy mutt."

And surprisingly, it obeyed. Fur lay thick and coarse beneath your fingers as you exploited your attacker's lust for your own benefit, roughly pounding your greedy hole with its rock-hard shaft. It felt like you couldn't get enough, like you might just expire if you couldn't reach your peak. Something about the feel of the werewolf, the scent of it, the danger of its teeth and claws-- it all wound your desire tighter and tighter, like an overcoiled spring.  

It was too much. You couldn't hold back your sounds of pleasure any longer.

"Fuck, I need more," you hissed, your grip on the axe faltering and your bound chest heaving as you bared your human teeth at the werewolf. "Make me come, you flea-bitten cur!"

Maybe it was luck. Maybe it was fate. Or maybe you'd truly made the werewolf your bitch. But instead of taking advantage of your faltering attention, the creature began snapping its pelvis forward with punishing force. A strange bulge at the base of its cock, one that you'd only just noticed, demanded entrance. You weren't sure you could take it, but your hole seemed eager enough to try and swallow it up.

Your voice rose to the sky, filled with a fierce, wordless hunger that ached to be sated.  

An unearthly howl answered from the beast between your legs.

And suddenly, the knot forced its way inside of you, and your entire world shattered.

You eventually made it home that day with your firewood, a sore groin, and a belly full of werewolf seed.  

Its knot kept you tied up a bit longer than expected, but in time, you managed to pull free, unleashing a torrent of warm, sticky fluid down the inside of your trousers. The two of you scrambled apart afterward in an uneasy, unspoken truce, sharing a heated look that spoke volumes before the werewolf bounded back into the forest.  

Months passed, yet you never forgot that day, nor the feel of that deadly predator moving between your thighs. Especially once you finally realized what the beast had meant when growling about you being 'fertile'.

The next time you entered the forest, your tunic stretched over a belly swollen with werewolf pups. And the 'wood' you craved wouldn't come from any tree.

(A Spooky Season story.)

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Great Expectations 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Professor Holmes’ class is your most difficult, but he’s about to make it even more challenging.

Characters: Sherlock Holmes (modern AU)

Note: monday

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

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I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Friday arrives too quickly for your likely. Amid the usual cluster of readings, lectures, and assignments, you have Professor’s Holmes’ additional task to add to the pile. It feels unfair that he would point out your own efforts only to force more upon you. His praise hardly seems like that in retrospect. 

That you did the readings likely made your experience simpler, though the vague instructions leave you uncertain. No rubric, no objectives, no outline. Your format in the usual style and triple-check the word count before you resign yourself to fate or fortune, whichever favours you. 

As usual, Professor Holmes prefers a physical copy, neglecting the digital workspace designed by the campus for ease of access. He doesn’t seem to be the type for the easy way out, does he? You try not to malinger on your gripes and head off, promising to reward yourself with a double whip frap for your work. It’s certainly more than you’ll receive from your professor, even if you do manage to gleam your first A+ from the man. 

The softness of autumn mingles with the crispness of early winter. You mourn the orange and yellow leaves as they start to curl at the edges and brown, blowing across the pavement and catching on pantlegs and tree roots. Midterm season is almost over but it won’t be long before finals rise to haunt you. 

You come up the Herringbone building and look up at the romanticist arches and columns. The esteemed architecture has you feeling even smaller. Surely, the professor will only add to that. 

Inside, the air is dry from the heat blowing from the high vents and curved staircases crest the foyer. You follow the left one up and continue along to the small set of steps that lead up to a hallway with only three office doors. Holmes is at the very end. You went there once before when you needed to be signed into the course; he was certain to make you wait then threatened not to sign the form at all. 

You stop and stare at the frosted glass with his pedigree emblazoned on it. You contemplate just shoving the paper through his slot but the light is on. You raise your fist and gently tap on the wood. You bounce on your feet as you wait, tugging at the itchy collar of the blue sweater dotted with little clouds. In the warmth of the stuffy building and under your wool jacket, it’s stifling. 

You hear movement from within and ready yourself for the encounter. You don’t think you’ve ever talked to Professor Holmes without some degree of awkwardness. On your end, of course. He can’t be bothered to care what others think of him. 

The door opens and you try to smile but it feels like chewing rocks. He looks back at you without an ounce of emotion. You gulp. 

“Um, Professor, I have my paper--” 

He’s already walking away as you stand dumbly in the doorway. You blanch as he circles back to his desk and sits heavily in his seat. He leans forward and dips his head, bending over an open leather folio with a lined pad within. A curl falls onto his forehead and he reaches without looking for the pipe propped up on a mahogany tray. 

“Come in,” he says before he puts the pipe to his lips and bites down. He teethes on it as he snatches up a pen with his other hand. You warily obey and cross the threshold. 

“So, um, here you go,” you near the desk and lay down the stapled paper. He doesn’t look up. “Erm, thanks, professor. I hate to disturb, so I’ll just leave it here--” 

He sighs and sits up, flicking back the curl as he replaces the pipe on the tray, “they won’t let me light that, even with the window open.” 

You glance over at the drawn curtains and nod, “oh.” 

“You’re the first,” he interjects before you can summon any sort of response. 

“Ah, oh--” 

“You are rather quick, aren’t you?” He challenges as he rolls the pen between his fingers, his shoulders spreading wide against the puckered leather chair, “fleet of foot, as some Victorian ponce might say. Quiet.” 

You blink and purse your lips, giving a shrug. 

“You didn’t say hello,” he intones, “it is courteous when you see an acquaintance to greet them, though I suppose etiquette does continue to change.” 

“Um, I didn’t want to... impose?” You murmur. 

His expression remains cryptic. You can’t tell if he’s annoyed or amused or something else. 

“So you didn’t,” he shrugs, his vest bracing on his chest. 

“Sorry, er, sir. But um, there’s my paper, I’ll... let you be. I’m sure you’re busy enough--” 

“Terribly busy,” he confirms dryly. “Since I’ll have a new batch of papers to mark, I’ll be kept well in hand.” 

You clasp your hands together and sway, “right, uh--” 

“And you’ll be off like the rest of those dull girls, paying no mind to the real purpose of study, but rather the wordly pleasures of the modern campus. All that pumpkin spice and such.” He reprimands. 

“Oh, uh, professor...” you know better than to argue. He is set in his ideas of his students and what should make you any different than the rest. 

“Right then,” he reaches for your paper and barely glances at the title page. He flips to the short essay and his eyes skim. He reaches for the antique pen and marks up the page as he goes. He hums as he scratches with the nib. “Good point but clunky prose. No, redudant.” He scribbles his comments in the margins. He turns to the second page and sighs. He closes it and holds it out. “You show comprehension but you need refinement.” 

“Um, thanks, er...” you take it hesitantly and back up again. He watches you with his bold blue eyes, not showing a single crack in his veneer. 

“Go off and enjoy your weekend, don’t fret over the fault of others. Certainly, you show more promise than most who haunt my lectures,” he says. His tone is flat but his words are praising. The contradiction has you off-foot. 

“Thank you, Professor, have a good weekend too.” 

He doesn’t respond as he puts his attention back to another stack of papers. You turn on your heel slowly and scurry to the door. He clears his throat and you stop. 

“Perhaps I mightn’t have such a tedious weekend.” 

You glance back but he still has his head down. You nod and leave him be with a sharp inhale. You hold your breath in until you close the door from the other side. 

Only a few more weeks and you’ll be through this class. Hopefully, you won’t ever have to face the heart palpitations that come with each encounter after that. For now, you will focus on the last paper and the eventual exam. Those are hurdles that look higher the closer you get. 

📕

There’s a cafe off campus you prefer. The library kiosk and the franchised booth in the Student Rec Centre are always overcrowded. This place isn’t so bad. A local mom and pop with a single barista. Maude, the retiree turned businesswoman, works slowly but efficiently. Traffic matches her pace but is enough to keep her thriving. 

“I’ll bring it to you, dearie,” she smiles as she hands you a plate with a crumbly scone on it. You thank her and go to find a seat. 

The place is homey. The seating is mismatched. There are armchairs around a low coffee table, some long tables with thrift store dining chairs, and square table in the corner with two benches and some stools. The rug that stands center to the sitting space is faded but its patterns still visible. 

You claim one of the armchairs near the bookcases and sit. Despite the tense submission, you’re glad not be stressing over another mark. Another A- to add to the rota in Holmes’ class. You could do a lot worse given what you’ve overheard from your classmates. 

The door opens and closes, letting in a chilly. You keep your coat on as you balance the scone on the coffee table. You’ll wait until you have your mocha and savour them together. It’s a rare treat but the dropping temperature coaxed you into it. 

A familiar baritone pricks your ears. You glance over before you can bury your nose in your phone and flinch. What luck. You almost doubt it’s a coincidence. Twice in a row you’ve managed to stumble upon the Professor outside of class. 

Your shoulders sink as you turn back and plant your elbow on the armrest, shielding your face behind your hand. What do you do? Your mind races. Despite what he said in his office he does not radiate welcoming energy. You can’t just flee and leave your order behind; it isn’t fair to Maude and you wouldn’t want to waste the money. 

Professor Holmes’ voice carries. He orders a black coffee and two shortbread biscuits; the Saturday special. The elder barista takes his order and as usual, bids him to sit down so she can bring it to him. You chew your lip as time ticks on. Make up your mind. 

Too late.  

“Pardon, oh,” Holmes approaches and gives pause as you look up at him. “You aren’t reserving these for your friends?” 

He gestures to the other arm chairs. You shake your head and clasp your phone tight in your hands. He dips his chin and sidles around the coffee chair. He removes his jacket and hangs it on the rack between the bookshelves. He lingers there as he browses the titles on the spines. 

Maude appears with your mocha in a large mug on a matching saucer. You thank her as she sets it by your scone. She calls over to Holmes, “I’ll have your coffee and biscuits in just a moment, dearie.” 

He turns his head and nods but says nothing else. She shuffles off and you lean forward to take your mug. Somehow your chocolatey treat doesn’t seem so sweet any more. He backs up and lowers himself across from you. You shyly return his gaze over the brim of your cup. 

“You come here often?” He asks. 

The question has you off-guard as much as his presence. You slurp noisily before you pull the cup away and put it down. You take the napkin by your scone and wipe your lips. 

“Sometimes. Once in a while. Er, I... I make my coffee at home. Tea, more often.” You clamp your lip shut before you can ramble on. 

“Mm, yes, I prefer tea as well. I was suggested the dark roast here by a colleague however.” 

You don’t know what to say. You’re entirely unprepared for the conversation. You’ve never thought much of what he might speak of outside his lectures. His interests, you assume, would align with his expertise. 

“You are enjoying your time? You haven’t any schoolwork?” He asks. 

You slant your lips one way then the other. You look down at the bag by your feet and back at him. He wears a wool sweater with elbow patches; not quite casual but casual for him. 

“I was going to do my readings...” you say. 

“Ah,” he sits back in the chair as Maude brings his coffee and biscuits. He thanks her tersely. 

You bend over and reach for your bag. You slide out your notebook and open it to the printed articles stashed between the pages. You hope it’s enough of an excuse not to talk as much. 

“My class?” He asks. 

“Yes, sir, er, Professor,” you answer. 

“Those are available digitally, as I understand.” 

“I know, but I, er, prefer print.” 

“Mm, yes, it does permeate more effectively, doesn’t it?” He intones. 

You agree with a silent nod and try to focus. You’re too shy to check if he’s watching you but it feels like he is. He sighs and sips from his cup. 

“What were you on the hunt for then?” He asks abruptly before you can read the introduction for the fifth time. You look up, perplexed. “At the craft store?” 

You open your mouth then pause. Finally, you summon the answer, “thread.” 

“Thread?” 

“Yes, I... make little things. Sometimes. It wasn’t urgent. I don’t have my sewing machine in my dorm and... no time.” You shrug and let the papers lay flat on your notebook. 

He considers you as his cheek dimples and he leans his chin on his knuckles. He looks down at the cup he holds over one leg. He sucks his teeth. 

“Rather flat,” he dislodges his elbow and leans forward. “And what did you get? It smells intriguing.” 

“Mocha with peppermint,” you answer. 

“Mm, with whip?” He peeks at your cup and the melting glut of cream. 

“Yes, Professor,” you reply. 

“I think I might trade mine for the same,” he stands with his cup in hand. 

You watch him, confused and uneasy. So much for getting some studying done. You doubt you’ll be able to concentrate with him looming on the other side of the table. 

[dearlydevoured]

russell adler x bell! reader. meant to be longer, meant to be proofread, inspired by @altcvnningham

berlin was home to you now.

you don’t know why—considering all that had happened—but you found illegally renting apartments under fake identities was just comforting that you stayed in the city months after your psyche was broken down and put back together with chewing gum and lint-covered duct tape.

maybe it was more of a safe zone but you consciously didn’t acknowledge it, too afraid to leave and see the rest of the world under the forceful title you gave yourself as a german civilian. months passed and you were still anxious about people and places you could barely picture in your head.

nothing more, always something less.

lighting your cigarette, you moved away from the kiosk and walked back to your building, winter chill nipping at the exposed tips of your ears. you started smoking again, trying to reclaim what chunks of identity had been taken away from you, no matter how little.

it was nearing midnight. usually, when it was this late and your pack had already been finished, you tried to ignore your body’s craving for nicotine and wait until the morning. but after cleaning your own sob-session-induced bile off the parquet with a dirty t-shirt the night before, you took the trip down the block and bought a fresh pack to semi-congratulate for not throwing yourself out the window—as much as you desperately wanted to. the acidic smell of your own stomach’s contents hit you mid-cleaning causing you to gag, stomach cramping painfully as you tried to focus on just cleaning the mess you already made, the only thing you could do in the situation besides forcing your body to keep everything down and to not think about it.

you often got away with beating memories of 1981 down. still, your chest would tighten when men at bars used a familiar cologne, closing your eyes and trying to imagine that they smelled of citrus and laundry detergent, not warm spices carried by wood and leather. you would imagine adler when you would hook up with these same men that led you to places you’d only see once yet criticize a million times in your head due to the lack of results when searching for a piece of décor that could scream his name at you as if to console, aching to focus in on just one thing that would remind you of his style. when you were completely disconnected, you only found comfort through pretending he was on top of you, a stranger’s fingers peeling your clothes off in a way so delicate that he could never compare, hands too rough and undeserving.

they would ask if you’re okay and you would only nod in response, sometimes putting a smile on your face just for them and of course, the men before them.

you forgot the pattern of his scars. climbing the first flight of stairs, you reached into your coat pocket, feeling for your keys before hooking a finger into the ring and pulling them out. cigarette hanging from your lips, you separated the apartment key from everything else.

in your head, they created the ursa major. a prfectly carved constelattion on his face, able to be seen even in the daytime.

[sundew199]

Times Two, Pt.2

a/n: yeah the brain rot on this got to me really bad. definitely recommend reading pt.1 if you haven't, this picks up right where it ended. I also just want to make a point that there is more Reijean in this sooo, yeah.

tags: reiner x f!reader x jean, threesome, establishing a potential relationship, oral m! and f! receiving, anal fingering and sex (m!receiving), Bisexual!Reiner, Bisexual!Jean, messy sex, reijean, fluff at the end.

minors dni!!

word count: 7,977

There was no way to tell what time of day it was when you woke up, clouds blocking the sun from shining through the windows. Groggily you tried to gain your bearings, blinking rapidly and feeling around the bed. It all slowly started to come back to you, the night before and the promise of a discussion of how to move forward. The ache between your legs was a dead giveaway of how thoroughly you’d been fucked, groaning when stood after sliding off the bed. A chill ran down your spin, hugging your arms around you and appreciating the overly large sweatshirt you wore. 

Neither Jean or Reiner were in bed when you woke up, needing to find them and some food. Trailing out of the bedroom into the kitchen, fresh coffee hit your nostrils and helped wake you up further. Your feet shuffled on the vinyl wood floors, walking extremely slow to keep the aching pain from worsening. 

“Mornin’ sunshine.” Jean quipped from the barstool he sat in, a shit eating grin on his face as he glanced up from his phone, slouched and shirtless making you wonder how he wasn’t freezing his ass off. All you did was groan back as a response, ignoring him and still making a beeline for the coffee. You bumped into Reiner, who also greeted you and you gave him the same response. 

Now that you had poured your coffee and taken a few tentative sips, you sat in the barstool next to Jean. The sizzle of eggs turned louder from where Reiner stood in front of the stove, the need for food turning impossible to ignore, hoping those weren’t just for him. 

“Hungry?” He asked, turning around with the pan of scrambled eggs held out in front of him. 

“Yea.” Simply responding, taking another sip of your coffee. Reiner graciously plated some for you and Jean and also himself, setting the plates down in front of you and leaning back into the counter to eat his breakfast. It was quiet as everyone ate, giving you time to wake up a bit more and hit them with what you briefly discussed the night before. If they were serious about having some kind of agreement, you wanted to work out the details. At the moment, you didn’t want to take things too far into a possible relationship, still wanting some of your freedoms. 

“So how is this going to work? Do you two have rules? Things you don’t want the other to do or?” Blurting out with a small clap of your hands, perkiness returning slowly in your demeanor. 

“Jesus christ it's 8:30 am.” Jean mutters through the bite of eggs he took, chewing the forkful and swallowing, motioning to Reiner to take it from here. 

“Okay well first, we want to make sure you want to be apart-” 

“Yes.” 

Reiner sighed at your interruption, brushing it off and tossing the now empty plate in the trash, reaching for his own cup of coffee, “There aren’t “rules” per-se for what we have going on, just mutual respect and understanding. So obviously we let the other know if we were hooking up with someone else, and if it ever happened, to let one another know if we were trying to pursue a relationship with someone.” 

Nodding along and stringing together some questions of your own, you pondered the benefits of this little agreement. It was clear Jean and Reiner liked you beyond as a friend per their confession last night, but you also didn’t want to get their hopes up in being in a relationship with you. Plus you’d never been in a polyamorous relationship and wasn’t even sure if you’d like that sort of thing. That was at least another upside to joining in on whatever they had going on, give you a small taste. 

“Okay that’s understandable. I know you said you both have a crush on me and I’m flattered but I don’t want to give you the impression by coming into this agreement or situationship that you guys are in an actual relationship with me, I’m not ready for something like that.” 

Both of them turned to look at each other, shrugging nonchalantly. “That’s fine, like I said last night, we're not dating or exclusive.” Jean responded. 

Seeing it didn’t affect much on their stance, you felt more at ease in going into this. There was only the lingering fear of one of them getting jealous and the entire friendship going down the drain, but you weren’t going to let that fear guide what you wanted. 

“Okay then I guess consider me part of your agreement.” Saying with a shrug, not sure what else was left to be said. The only other thing on your mind now was studying, seeing how you were so rudely pulled away from it last night. Your last two finals were on Tuesday of this upcoming week and already felt like you lost so much time, not that you didn’t enjoy your time spent with Reiner and Jean, you were just stressed. 

“I’m going to study.” Announcing as you got down from the barstool, taking your coffee and heading to your room. Both guys gave you nonverbal responses as you shuffled down the hall to your room, smiling to yourself at them being them. 

For Hours you stared at your laptop screen, taking practice quizzes for different units and rereading sections of your notes for what felt like the thousandth time. Reiner always said you never gave yourself enough credit for how smart you are and probably didn’t need to study as much as you did. But you weren’t taking any chances, so much riding on your finals score and not needing anything to set you back. You could tell you were burning out of your focus when you started to think about how things would be with Reiner and Jean, wondering how they went about it before they told you and what they’d be comfortable with. Would they care if you randomly kissed their cheek or in general? I mean sure that’s what couples did but you’ve kissed plenty of guys and couldn’t even tell you all their names. Did they care if one day you wanted to just fuck one of them and not the other? Did it have to be both of them? 

Questions, questions, questions you should’ve asked this morning but deciding against it when you felt it wasn’t important, clearly proving yourself wrong. Putting on some decent clothes, realizing you were still just in the sweatshirt and panties from this morning, you took a moment to freshen up as well. Hopefully they were both still home and you could get some quick answers. 

Entering the living room to Jean lying across the couch scrolling on his phone with one of his legs slung over the back of the couch, Reiner sitting on the other end, feet of the coffee table and watching the football game on T.V. Both of them looked up when you came around the couch to sit between them, Reiner muting the T.V and Jean laying his phone down. 

“I forgot to ask earlier but are you guys okay with affection? Like around here, not in public or anything.” Hating how nervous you sounded, partially regretting asking them in the first place when you realized it kinda sounded dumb. 

“I don’t mind,” Jean answered first, looking at Reiner who had the same response as well. Giving a nod and picking at your nails, you inhaled deeply. 

“So when we want to…fuck, does it have to be all three of us everytime?” 

They both got quieter than you wanted them to, talking to each other through looks while thinking it over individually themselves. Obviously they hadn’t been faced with that before, given it was just them two before so you were hoping this wouldn’t cause an issue. 

“I guess not, if it does happen maybe put a sock on the door? Or mentioned it after the fact. Jean?” Reiner said, looking to the other man to see if he thought the same or felt uncomfortable with it. 

“I don’t see the issue, unless it starts to come between us. And if it does, we’ll cross that road when it happens.” Nudging your thigh with his leg that was bent at the knee on the couch, giving a little reassurance seeing the nervousness written across your face. “I don’t see it happening, so don’t let it get in your head alright?” 

“Okay.” Muttering out with a small smile, rising from the couch to grab a snack before going back to studying now that your burning questions have been answered. You knew deep down there wouldn’t be anything to worry about, seemingly excited to get to have you at the same time last night. 

Chills ran up your spine at the memories, biting your bottom lip to keep the breathy moan in as you felt the phantom hands cascading over your body. God fucking dammit you needed finals to be over so you could have all the fun you wanted with the agreement. Just a couple more days.

~~~~

Praise the universe!! You were finally done with the semester, exiting out of your last class with childlike joy. All that studying and endless all-nighters paid off, making fucking above nineties on both of your tests. It was so much more satisfying getting that high of a grade when you were only shooting for passing. A celebration was in order and you had the perfect idea on what you wanted to do. 

After a quick drive to the shared condo, you burst through the front door victoriously, shouting you passed those god damn tests and was free to start enjoying winter break like everyone else. Reiner and Jean took all their finals a week before you did, and they weren’t going to say it, but they were waiting for you to be done so all three of you could whatever the fuck you wanted. God you were so happy, finally free of the stress of academics for a short while. 

“So what do you want to do? Get wasted?” Jean asked, moving out from behind the kitchen counter, popping the last cracker into his mouth from his palm. 

“No, better. Give me a few minutes and I’ll meet you in Reiner’s bedroom, or yours doesn’t matter!” Shouting as you ran down the hall, giving them no time to respond or question just what exactly you had in mind. After that night you asked them to hold off on anything sexual, just until finals were over. They didn’t have a problem with it and only bothered you when they felt like being annoying. Even though it’d only been a couple of days, you were glad nothing had changed in the dynamic the three of you shared, it being something you cherished more than they probably knew. 

Digging through your dresser for that lingerie you bought after the guy you’d been crushing on asked you out to dinner, which ended up being a complete waste, not even finishing dinner before you realized he was just unbearable to be around. That was the last time you ever spent money too please a guy, seeing no point as most of your hook-ups were one time things. But now, oh you were itching to flaunt your body in this risque lingerie for Reiner and Jean, accepting the fact it may be torn off of you. 

A black lace full body lingerie hugged your curves in the way you wanted it too, accentuating your breasts and leaving little to the imagination. You felt good in this, confident and sure of what you wanted. To keep it a surprise, you grabbed one of your sweatshirts that was big enough to come down to your mid-thigh, you giggled jogging down the hallway, passed the living room to the other hallway where Jean and Reiner’s rooms were. Reiner’s door was closed and Jean’s was slightly open, deciding to try there first. 

They were laid back on the bed, scrolling through their phones, not suspecting a thing for what you had planned. Jean looked up first as you entered, closing the door and dimming the lights in his room, a feature so perfect for a plan like yours. Reiner’s attention was gained when you climbed onto the bed between them, forcing a spot for you between their bulking bodies. 

“So…? What are we doing, taking a nap before we go to the bar?” Jean inquired, a hint of annoyance in his tone at the lack of clarification for what both of them were doing here. 

“No, maybe later but not right now.” Sitting up and crossing your legs. “I haven’t gotten a chance to learn what you like.” Pausing further for dramatic effect, running a finger up Reiner’s thigh and placing the other high on Jean’s inner thigh. “What you like in bed that is.” 

Jean’s leg twitches under your hand, internally laughing at the effect you already had on both of them. Reiner sat up, gripping your wrist and letting a smile curl into his lips, moving to be in front of you rather than beside you. 

He started by kissing the outer shell of your ear, releasing a breath that unexpectedly had you bending to his effect. Jean caught on, running a hand along your outer thigh and teasing you by venturing to your inner thigh, a lot closer than you had been when you did it to him. 

“Then find out, we’d be more than happy to tell you but I doubt that would be any fun.” Running his scruffy cheek against yours, Reiner slides his hand to the back of your neck and places a wet kiss to your jawline. Dammit they were quick, already wanting to just lie back and let them have your way with you again, but you wanted to tease now so there was no room to falter. 

Scooting away from both of their lingering touches, standing on your knees, you lift the hem of your sweatshirt, slowly revealing the lace that decorated your body, tossing it to the floor and sitting back on your hunches. They both gaped, stared shamelessly at the sultry movements of your hands running up your torso to cup your tits. 

“I’m going to rip that thing off of you.” Jean rasped, palming the forming tent in his shorts and letting out a sigh. 

“Would you buy me a new one?” Circling your nipples with your index fingers through the lace, the heat sinks into your stomach at a fast pace, already beginning to grow wet between your legs. 

“Yeah, might not last long, but I will.” Confidently responding, now rubbing the tent to ease the ache in his dick, Jean looked to Reiner with another one of their looks. Crawling towards them, you wordlessly instruct them to take off their shirts and sweatshirts, sighing at your new favorite sight of their toned bare chests. 

A lightbulb seemed to go off in Reiner’s head suddenly, wagging a finger for you to ‘c’mere’ and whisper something in your ear. He suggested both of you turn your attention to Jean, implying you both tease and play with him, promising at some point you and him could do the same back. The idea was so sweet to pass up on, agreeing with a silent nod as to not give away anything to Jean. He looked skeptical when you faced him again, trying to figure out what just happened. 

Swinging your legs over his body, grasping the sides of his face, you met him in a deep kiss. His arms wrapped around your mid section, urging you to sit down on his lap all the way and alleviate his erection. Obliging, you moaned into his mouth as your barely clothed cunt grinded down on his dick through his athletic shorts. Reiner was off grabbing what he needed, briefly stepping out of the room into his, returning almost silently if it weren’t for the closing of the bedroom door behind him. He set something down on the nightstand on the side you and Jean were making out, glancing to see a bottle of lube. Jean was too busy devouring your mouth and pawing at your ass to notice, impatiently pulling and snapping the lace against your body. 

Hands from behind pulled you off, sitting firm on Jean’s lap and giving one slow grind with your hips as you strained to meet Reiner holding your face to him for a kiss. Though intense and hungry, his lips moved softly with yours, moving one hand to slip the thin strap of your lingerie off your shoulder until your tit fell free. His large rough hand cupped and massaged it, pulling whiny moans from your lips as he now bit and sucked the side of your neck. Jean looked like he was in a trance, watching Reiner manhandle you, but in an oddly gentle way. He was throbbing inside his shorts, the grinding of your hips not offering everything he craved. 

Your head fell back when Reiner rolled and pinched your nipple between his fingers, chuckling into your neck and giving you one last kiss before releasing his hold on you. Jean sat up, keeping one arm around your waist and latching onto your nipple, furiously flicking and swirling his tongue. 

“Jean-” Breathing out, running a hand through his hair and grinding down harder with your hips. He bit the nipple as a response, smiling when you yelped. 

Reiner moved all the pillows from the bed as Jean busied himself with your chest, trying not to let his throbbing dick take over his actions just yet, wanting to ensure there was optimal room on the bed. Jean finally pulled away, gasping a breath and pulling the rest of your lingerie down to your waist moving you off his lap to take the rest of it off. Reiner seized this as his opportunity to smash Jean into a kiss, catching him so off guard you had to take the rest of your lingerie off yourself. 

“What do you want? My dick down your throat while she sucks you off, or your face buried in that pussy while I’m down between your legs?” Reiner asked between the heated kisses, hearing Jean groan wantonly grasping the back of the blonde's hair. The question and the scene set your body aflame, watching Reiner effortlessly take control and Jean submitting to it like it was the only thing keeping him going. 

“I want’re to ride my face, need to taste her.” Answering finally between gasps of breath, tugging on Reiner’s hair to pull him away from the kiss, watching Reiner smile with a pleased groan. His attention turns to you, sitting back on your elbows just observing just how fucking hot that was. 

“Come sit on my face doll.” Gleaming at you with a smirk and grabbing one of the pillows tossed to the floor to elevate his head a bit. Without looking too excited, you shuffled over to Jean, swinging your legs over each side of his head, looking down at him. The poor man looked gone already, eyes glazed over in lust with a content expression. His hands came to settle in the junction of your hips, beginning to pull you down with the hunger to taste you, quench his sudden thirst and desire to suffocate in your folds. Behind you, Reiner was watching as he popped the lid to the lube open, transfixed on your slow descent and muttering curses once he saw Jean’s mouth make contact between your legs. 

Jean delightfully hummed into your folds the second he could crane his head up to meet you, still urging you to sit all the way down on his face. Your breath carried a whine, soft and salacious as you felt a tongue flatten to swiped back and forth. All thoughts of concern for cutting off Jean's airway went out the window when his lips closed around your clit, sucking tentatively and keeping those hazy eyes on yours, making it next to impossible to not crumble under his wanting look. He looked so enthralled with how your head was tilted back just a bit, the silent moans leaving your tongue and the contortion of pleasure twisted in your face, having you sit on his face was for his pleasure just as much as it was yours. Hands roamed from your hips to below your ribs, caressing your soft skin, back down to your ass cheeks as he passionately made out with your pussy. Who would’ve thought sitting on a man’s face could be so intimate? 

Reiner had to forcefully break away from watching before he came untouched and to begin working Jean open, per his response. With the cap to the lube finally open and ready for when he would need it, Reiner leaned over the foot of the bed, moving a long muscular leg over his shoulder and peppering soft kisses and quick nips to the flesh. He smirked when Jean’s shaky groan muffled into your pussy reached his ears, seeing you tense on top of him at the undoubtable vibrations. Before you were added into the equation, Reiner and Jean took turns deciding who would do who in the beginning but it slowly turned into Jean taking Reiner’s dick, more often than not, letting the blonde toss him around how he liked. Reiner enjoyed it, but he savored the times when Jean would wordlessly slam him into the wall or bend him over the bed and fuck him until he was out of his mind. 

Swiping a flat tongue over the man’s heavy balls, Reiner groaned seeing his flushed and angry cock twitch against his abs, catching the way his hands dug into the flesh of your ass, urging you to ride his face. You were a mess, panting and twisting your hand into the ashy hair, grinding faster onto Jean’s tongue and watching his eyes roll back into his head. A thick finger circled the puckering hole between Jean’s legs as Reiner kissed up his dick flicking his tongue teasingly over the leaking slit. 

“Fuck.” Jean gasped below you, mouth and chin shining with your arousal as he lifted you off his face. His bottom lip quivered when a now slick finger began pushing into his hole, the same teasing tongue swirling around the head of his cock. 

“Turn around for me.” Rasping hoarsely, pleading almost with the request. You complied with a small nod, turning around till your ass was in his face and you were faced with the sight of Reiner affectionately lavishing Jean’s cock. He smiled when he saw the switch in positions, tested his luck by pushing his finger past the first knuckle into Jean, smiling wider at the debauched moan he let out. You knew Reiner was a tease but oh my god it was like borderline torture the way he calculated his movements and teased the man squeezing and pulling your ass cheeks apart. You could tell Jean needed the distraction of your pussy on his mouth with the immediate dive back into your folds, slipping his tongue into your entrance and inhaling deeply. It was expected of you to fall forward for the suddenness, grasping onto Jean’s thighs and whining with need. Reiner’s pumping single finger picked up a rhythm comfortable for Jean to ease his grip on your ass, assuming he relaxed further when Reiner knitted his brows together and moved a little faster. 

“God you’re tight, ease up babe.” Reiner called out to Jean, giving you another devious smug look and leaning his head over to suck just the head of his cock. You were drowning in the furious movements of Jean’s tongue that you could barely make out what Reiner was doing in front of you. Reiner moaned, releasing his cock and dropping a glob of spit, using his free hand to spread it down his shaft. Now you were at attention, pushing yourself up and kitten licking the continuously leaking slit as Reiner pumped up and down. 

“There ya go, suck his dick for me baby.” Reiner encouraged kissing down the side of the shaft, you focusing on sucking and swirling your tongue around the tip. 

Jean could barely handle it, taking a breather and whining at the unexpected amount of attention he was receiving. You didn’t mind, you’d have his cock shoved inside you here soon enough to not be demanding, following Reiner’s lead and teasing the absolute fuck out of Jean. The man in front of you pushed down one of Jean’s legs to the mattress, easing a second slicked coated finger into the complicit hole, sighing at acceptance and how it sucked him in further. 

As you made a mess on Jean’s cock and watched Reiner open him up at the same time, Jean was whining and muttering incoherently, completely abandoning your pussy and focusing on trying not to cum. Fingers pumped rapidly in and out of him, Reiner returning to sucking and kissing up and down the appendage with you. Your tongues met unexpectedly when you both reached the tip, Reiner occupying you in a kiss centimeters over Jean’s dick, sloppily making out and smearing saliva and precum on each other’s mouths.  

“I’m going to cum if you two don’t stop making out on my dick, for fucks sake.” Jean growled, a little frustrated and losing the will to stave off his orgasm. 

“You gonna ride’em?” Reiner asked, ignoring Jean and slipping in a third finger as an extra precaution to make sure he didn’t hurt the man when sinking into him. 

“Mhm, wanna know if it's as good as he says it is.” Smirking and shuttering to Reiner’s deep chuckle, following him as he stood up from kneeling between Jean’s legs, pouring a generous amount of lube onto his cock, waiting for you to turn back around to sink down on Jean. 

Once you were facing him again, you cupped a hand around his jaw and tipped his head back, guiding him inside of you. Reiner waited until you were fully seated to pull his fingers out and test the waters with his thick cockhead, Jean was prepped enough but he wasn’t a brute to just shove himself all the way in. The moment he pushed the tip of his dick past the tight ring of muscle, he hissed and dug crescents into Jean’s outer thighs. You were adjusting around the length of Jean, not as thick as Reiner but thick and long enough to need a moment until you started moving. 

“Feel so good Jean.” Whispering into his lips and lazily kissing the side of his mouth as he tried to keep what composure he had left from the thick cock pushing its way inside of him. With ease, your hips rose up and down on his cock, dragging your walls along the faint ridges and veins. You were relaxed enough to keep Jean from losing his mind, holding the side of his face and gently kissing his lips while riding him, it seemed to work until Reiner pushed himself all the way in, hearing that throaty whine that made you clench around the man below you. 

“Shit.” He cursed, inhaling sharply through his nose and bringing his hips back to where he almost pulled out all the way and slamming them back in. 

“Fuck Reiner-” Jean mumbled between your lips, gripping you tightly around the waist and speeding up your languid bouncing hips to move faster. You moaned, licking into Jean’s mouth and releasing his face to sit upright to rock your hips in time with Reiner’s behind you. His large hands slipped under your arms pulling you back into his chest, cupping your tits and resting his chin over your shoulder, both of you now looking down at Jean. He was ruined, digging the heel of his palms into his eyes and shaking with each breath, getting fucked simultaneously. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Reiner asked, breath kissing the outer shell of your ear, raising the hair on your neck. You pressed your knees to Jean’s hips, pushed your hips forward so the dick inside you could be seen bulging in your lower stomach. You nodded as a response to Reiner, tipping your head back so he could see your face and the doe eyed look you were giving him, taking one of his hands from your breast and guiding it down to where the bulge in your stomach was. He hissed, craned his head further over your shoulder to stare at it, giving Jean a good sharp thrust to gain his attention. 

“Look how deep you are baby,” Calling out to Jean, seeing his hands move away from his eyes and watching as a new wave of lust washed over him. He sat up on his elbows, brushing over where Reiner’s hand was and moaning softly. You squirmed on his dick, mewling to try and get stimulation while the two of them admired the bulging dick, wondering what it was that made it so hot for the two of them. 

With renewed vigor, Jean gripped one of your hips and moved you up and down on his cock, concentration screwed into his guise feeling Reiner resume his pace as well. You whined, meeting Jean’s movements and continuously fucking yourself on him. Reiner pushed you forward so he wouldn’t be smacking his chest into your back too much as he fucked Jean, holding the long legs apart and watching his dick disappear with each thrust, enamoured with how greedy Jean’s hole was. Your hands tangled into the long ashy locks, moaning directly into Jean’s ear as he did the same. You were both gone, energy close to depleting altogether but knowing Reiner was nowhere close to being finished with his ungodly stamina. 

“You feel so fucking good, wanna cum deep inside you princess.” He groaned, smacking your ass cheek sharply, kneading those lith fingers into the flesh and biting the lobe of your ear. You nodded furiously to that, clenching around him and slamming onto him harder and deeper. 

Reiner’s thrust faltered suddenly, violently gripping Jean’s thigh and throwing his head back, sputtering out a groan. Jean hissed, a pathetic whimper leaving his lips as one of his legs hooked around Reiner’s waist. You were so lost in how deep Jean’s dick was fucking into you that you couldn’t tell Reiner had just finished, quicker than you were expecting and possibly on purpose.  

Meeting the lips below you in a sloppy kiss, your body turned limp, unable to keep up with your desire to cum and to make Jean cum as well. Reiner must’ve caught on, hoisting you away from Jean’s chest and back into his own, one arm wrapped around your chest as his other hand ventured down to play with your clit. Now that Jean had more freedom to move as he pleased, he gripped your hips to hold you steady, fully fucking up into you, determined to watch his cum leak out of your pussy and down his cock. 

Barely able to hold on, you silently whined, resting your head on Reiner’s shoulder as he swirled your neglected clit with his finger, laughing devilishly and kissing the side of your neck. Jean grunted below, catching the smug curl of his lips and the look exchanged with Reiner. 

“Cum for us baby, wanna see you milk this pretty cock inside you.” Jean growled, smugness leaving his face suddenly as he drew closer and closer to his long awaited release. Reiner sucks in a large breath, keeping you pressed to him and increasing the speed of his fingers. You were so close, their combined efforts once again ruining your ability to do it yourself or for anyone else to. 

With a clench and a flutter of your walls, you came with a pitiful moan, somehow falling even more limp into Reiner’s hands, wincing at the final sharp thrust from Jean. Warmth filled quickly inside of you, ropes of cum painting your walls so much it indeed started to leak out and down the spent cock still inside you. Both of them sighed, releasing their hold and giving you a second to regain some energy before helping you off. Reiner was the only one not as fucked out as you and Jean, leaving the aftermath of a good fuck all to him. 

He lifted you off Jean, kissing your cheek and gently laying you back onto the bed next to the other. Jean’s chest was heaving, shining in sweat giving him an ethereal glow in the lowlights of his room. He brought his arm to wrap around you, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. You curled into him, ignoring the sweat sticking to your body and his and basking in the post-coital bliss between the two of you. Reiner could be heard in the bathroom, cleaning himself off and coming back to do the same for you and Jean.

Despite liking the idea of going out and celebrating for passing your last final, all three of you were sprawled across Jean’s bed, half naked and sound asleep. Thankfully Reiner had managed to clean you and Jean off before plopping down himself, making it less gross when you finally woke up. Of course it was dark, probably closer to eight or nine from what you could recall the time being when you waltz in here in your scandalous lingerie. Looking over to spot either Jean or Reiner, you smiled seeing them pressed together, chest to chest with their arms tangled between their bodies. A swelling of affection in your chest occurred seeing how comfortable they looked and abandoning all thoughts of leaving the room to squeeze between them. 

“The fuck are you doing?” Jean mumbled in his sleep, pinching his brows but making room for you nonetheless. Reiner huffed, groaning disapprovingly as you “carefully” pushed their bodies apart to make yourself a spot. They both huffed, still asleep when you finally settled between them, giggling to yourself and pulling the comforter over everyone. There was a time, when all of you were much younger and puberty hadn’t ruined your perception of them, did the three of you sleep altogether like this, pressed together so tight it was a wonder any of you could breath. Experiencing this again under different circumstances did you feel warm and fuzzy, safe between both of their arms.

~~~

All you heard was distorted mumbling when you woke again, voices hushed but loud enough to know a conversation was taking place between you. Everything in your body ached, creaked with one slight movement, similar to how you had been the first time. Vision blurry and refusing to focus, you sat up and rubbed your eyes, jolting to the warm palm on the center of your back. 

“Oh good you’re up.” Jean began, removing his hand from your back and reaching for his phone on the bedside table. “There’s this sushi place that opened up about ten minutes from here and I think we should go try it later.” 

“Isn’t it like three or four in the morning? And why would I want sushi for breakfast?” Groaning as you reached for the comforter to pull to your chest, very much still naked and cold. 

“More like nine in the morning, and we could go for dinner and celebrate finishing the semester.” 

The words were taking their time to process in your groggy brain, not realizing you’d slept till the next day. When they did process, you clutched the comforter tight to your chest and whirled around to look at Jean. 

“Jesus it's the next day?!” Exclaiming and hearing Reiner laughed on the other side of you, along with Jean. 

“Yeah? I mean we’ve only been up for an hour so you didn’t miss much.” 

Not that there was a lot you had to do or anything you missed, but you hated being so tired and out of the loop that time was distorted, it messed with your internal schedule to be productive and get things done around the place. Nothing much could be done now but it was still slightly irritating that it had happened. 

“We can go for lunch, I had plans to meet with Pieck and maybe Annie later.” Climbing over Jean and rolling your eyes at the slap to your bare ass and something like a growl from him. Fucking annoying ass. “But I’m going to take a shower first.” 

“Oh yeah, you need it, after the mess we made.” Reiner snickered, looking at Jean, who of course was laughing right along with the blonde. They were bad enough before when all three of you were strictly friends, and it didn’t come as a surprise to see them finding new ways to make your eyes roll back into your head. 

Snatching a zip-up jacket from the hook on the wall in Jean’s room, you left them alone to go get cleaned up and ready to go out. Now that they were no longer annoying you were able to appreciate the gesture from them. It was kind of odd how things were exactly the same between all three of you but completely different at the same time, making you rethink your choice in not pursuing a form of romantic relationship outside of sex with them. Both of them dated a few girls here and there, nothing serious but you got to see how they treated someone they dated and in a way yearned for it. You, in all honesty, wanted to be on the receiving end of the romantic affection, and it didn’t worry you or set doubts inside you about wanting one or the other, because you wanted both. But something about the idea of dating both of them at the same time made you nervous and reluctant still. What would your friends say? People around school? Three people dating each other all at once, wasn’t common and you hated the possible judgment from others got to you. 

Taking a quick shower and dressing accordingly for the chilly weather, you met Jean and Reiner out in the living room by the front door. Reiner offered to drive, piling into his truck and snatching the aux cord before Jean could from the back seat. 

“Please play something other than your girly pop playlist.” He groaned from the passenger seat. 

“I like her playlist, and added a few songs to my own to listen to when I work out.” Reiner defended you with honor, making you giggle while scrolling through your phone to find a song you knew would annoy the protester the most. 

“Of course you would, you zesty ass fucker.” 

Reiner abruptly slammed on the brakes, sending Jean lurching forward to the dash, only stopped by the seatbelt across his body. 

“I’m not the only ‘zesty ass fucker’ here, last i checked you were moaning my name and squirming on the bed last night.” 

Jean scoffed, scowled at Reiner who resumed peacefully driving to the destination with a smug smile on his face. You were laughing quietly at the two of them from the back seat, choosing to keep your laughs to yourself, lest you face the annoyed wrath of Jean Kirschtein. Surprisingly, Jean didn’t have any sort of rebuttal to send back to the blonde, but the tips of his ears were red and you didn’t even have to see his face to know he was pouting. 

Arriving at the sushi place, you walked in between the two of them, annoyingly dwarfed by their height and size. You weren’t “tiny”, like some girls around campus love to say for some reason, but you definitely weren’t above six feet tall and weighed two hundred pounds. Jean opened the door for you, Reiner following in behind and approaching the lady at the host stand. Said sushi place had a conveyor belt that rotated various sushi’s and you paid based on how many plates you ate. No wonder the two of them suggested this place, knowing they would be able to eat the entire restaurant if they wanted too, racking up the final bill. 

Seated in a booth across from both of them, wondering why they wanted to squeeze into together when it would’ve been easier for one of them to sit with you. Oh whatever, they’ve always been weird like that. Another restaurant worker stopped by the table to explain how the conveyor belt works and how to grab the plates of sushi, also mentioned there were separate items that weren’t sushi that you could order as well. 

Reiner orders a miso soup and Jean orders pot sticker dumplings, the worker writing it down and telling both of them to watch the belt above where the sushi was for their order as it would come down there. 

“This is actually a lot cooler than I was expecting.” Jean spoke once the worker left, beginning to eye some of the sushi rotating at a moderate speed around the restaurant on the belt. The restaurant was cool and unique, better than a ‘normal’ sushi restaurant. 

“Oh look, you can win a prize for eating twenty plates.” Reiner pointed out with a new look of determination of a presented goal. 

“Oh my god.” Muttering under your breath watching the two of them plot and scheme just how many plates they were going to do no matter that the requirement for a prize was. If this was their plan, they were definitely paying the undoubtable hefty tab, but you wouldn’t spoil that for them, seeing as they didn’t see the price of each plate. 

Once their two appetizers arrived on the conveyor belt above the sushi one, Jean started grabbing plates left and right, sliding them to you and Reiner. There were so many on the table now, giving you a wide variety of options to try. You started moving the ones you were eating to keep them from grabbing off of yours, they were animals when it came to food, some things never changing no matter how much time had passed. 

“Oh FUCK! That’s hot, oh my fucking god.” Jean exclaimed, snatching the complimentary water and chugging it. 

“No way you ate that much wasabi on that piece of sushi, dumbass.” Reiner laughed, nudging his shoulder and rolling his eyes in your direction. 

“I swear he never learns.” Snickering through a bite of sushi and watching the man sitting across from you gasping for air and snarling at Reiner openly laughing. Those two were always pushing each other’s buttons when they weren’t pushing yours, wondering how the testosterone didn’t knock out a passerby. Years ago, Conny, one of Jean’s closest friends after you and Reiner convinced him to eat a teaspoon of wasabi, easily convinced the brunette it was a mint paste and wouldn’t taste bad. Jean nearly killed Conny that night while everyone was over at his house, having a burnt and numb tongue for a week senior year of high school. 

“My tolerance has grown, but they put more than I thought.” Banging a fist on his chest, coughing in between each word. Both you and Reiner shared a look letting out a long sarcastic “ahh” and nodding your heads. Jean clicked his tongue and told you both to fuck off. 

The counter on the screen where you sat at the booth was at thirty five plates now, the two guys across from you slowing down, leaving you, who wasn’t quite full to eat the last remaining five. When you slid the last plate into the little slot, they annoyingly clapped for you, making a small scene and flooding you with mild embarrassment. Reiner reached over Jean to press on the touch screen to get the two prizes since forty plates were eaten, which was kind of ridiculous the more you thought about it. They each took one of the two prizes and handed them to you. 

“Awe for meeee? How sweeeet” Raising your pitch to sound like a child and elongating your words, rapidly fluttering your lashes. They both turned red, glancing at each other and smiling. Seeing them nod wordlessly sent your stomach into a flurry of butterflies, which was such an unfamiliar feeling when it came to them. You still weren’t sure how you felt about dating the both of them if that’s what they wanted, but something inside you was screaming at you to give it a try, despite your inner reluctance reasoning. Reiner and Jean were your best friends and more than that now, but a romantic relationship sounded daunting with them even though you wanted in deep, deep down. It’d be better to take things slow, for the sake of your friendship and sanity. 

The prizes were little rubber squish animals, little desk buddies you liked to call them, tucking them back in the plastic ball they came in and stuffing them into your jacket pocket.

“So what are you doing with Pieck later?” Reiner asked, looking up from texting on his phone. 

“Just hanging out, Annie said she also wanted to hang out with me since finals were over, so we’ll all probably be at Pieck’s place.” 

Jean hummed and Reiner nodded, slouched in their seats and waiting for the check. You briefly smiled thinking about what their reactions might be, dramatic forsure. A restaurant worker handed Reiner the check and you swore his eyes almost popped out of their sockets, slowly bringing it closer to Jean so he could have a look as well. His jaw dropped and a hand clamped over his mouth. 

“How much is it?” Asking with your wallet out to pay a portion of the bill as you did eat as well, maybe not as much, but you weren’t expecting them to pay the entirety. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Reiner grunted, digging his wallet out of his back jeans pocket, letting out a long breath and placing his card down. Jean grumbled and muttered under his breath as he passed Reiner his card as well. 

Just as you were about to place yours down as well, Jean swatted your hand away. You scoffed, trying again, only for Reiner to take it and hold onto it instead of putting it down. A worker came by to grab the cards asking how they would like to split it, Reiner telling him down the middle. 

“I could’ve paid.” Crossing your arms over your chest and acting like Jean, pouting with knitted brows. 

“Yea but this is on us, for passing your finals.” 

Your eyes rolled at the response Jean gave you, somehow still finding a way to look out for you even when you insisted against it. Not that you didn’t appreciate the gesture, but it had to have been expensive and you hated it being all on them. When they received their cards, they each signed and tipped, getting the hell out of there afraid that just being in here any long would drain their bank accounts. Back in the truck, Jean beat you to the aux, playing something that wasn’t normally what he would play just to annoy you. You couldn’t be mad, even if you wanted to, doing the same thing to him on the way here. 

Back home, stuffed from all the sushi, you plopped down on the couch, not having to leave for Pieck’s until after she got off of work, which was a couple hours from now. Expectedly, they joined you on the couch, sandwiching you in on either side, Jean slouching in the couch and then eventually laying his head on your lap with a blanket thrown over. Reiner draped his arm across your shoulders and pulled you closer just a tad to not disturb Jean who had drifted off to sleep. You were suddenly so tired, listening to Jean’s soft snores and steady breathing of Reiner, your heart racing at the fact you felt so at home like this? As if the three of you hadn’t fallen asleep on each other on a couch before, but you swore you felt something you didn’t want to name for the sake of taking things slow. Maybe, if everything played in your favor you could be confident to say this new feeling, but who knows where this will go.

[pekoehoneyncream]

Ghaoptober #1

Prompt: Drive

Words: 2200~

TW: Mentions of Torture. (sfw)

This version of Ghoaptober was created by @spadesandshovels

This one got very out of hand, I couldn't think of anything to do with cars, so I took it in a different direction.

Hope you Enjoy!

Ghost steps back, wiping his hand off on his thigh, uncaring of the sticky smears it leaves behind. Staring, he lets the knuckles of his -marginally cleaner- hand press against his lips through his balaclava as he debates with himself, a remnant of Simon Riley's old habit of chewing on his fingers. The interrogation was stalling, it'd been going on for too long, their guest had lost the haze of shock and fear, he was starting to acclimatize to The Ghost. It was taking more to pull less from him, and he still hadn’t fessed up to where his homebase is. 

Thaddaeus Gedaliah, the man in charge of getting a lot of very bad people what they needed, where they needed it. He’d been a lucky grab off a facility raid, they’d had no information on Gedaliah being anywhere near that side of the globe. The 141 found it highly suspicious, as they were well sunk into the habit of looking gift horses in the mouth.

Ghost thought back, trying to recall the base’s practice schedules, then walked out of the room to consult with Price. 

“Router Woods is empty right now?” He stood alongside the Captain, staring in at Gedaliah as the man dropped his head back, letting it hang off his shoulders as he slumped into the chair he was bound to. He was closer to breaking than Ghost had estimated. 

Good. 

Now the trick was making sure he broke in a helpful direction and didn’t just lose his mind. 

“Should be.” Price affirmed after a moment of thought and a quick check on his phone, “Need it?”

“Affirm, Johnny’s exercising?”

“He usually starts around now. But you already knew that.” Price side-eyed him.

Ghost nodded as he turned away and headed for the exit. He had already known, but it was only polite to give the Captain an idea of what he was planning. Cresting the stairs and pushing through the doors, Ghost held up a hand to ward off the glare of the sun and glanced around for anyone he could send running for Johnny.

The interrogation block was part of the general detainment building, a good two-dozen metres back from the rear of the main-building, situated smack dab in the centre of the base. The actual interrogation block was on the bottom floor, deep underground to take advantage of the natural soundproofing. 

“Corporal Winslow!” Ghost called the woman over, standing through the obligatory salute and ‘Sir!’, “Where are you headed?”

The Corporal seemed confused -Ghost couldn’t blame her, he wasn’t one for small talk or asking after others-, but answered promptly. “I’ve just begun my free hours, Sir. I’m-”

“Good,” Ghost cut in, “Tell Sergeant Mactavish to R.V with Captain Price and I at the south entrance of Router Woods A.S.A.P. You’ll find him in the delta sector of the gym.” 

The Corporal gave a crisp, ‘Yes, Sir!’ with another salute and obediently trotted off in the direction of the gymnasium centre. 

Giving a satisfied nod, Ghost headed back down into the interrogation block. Corporal Winslow was shaping up well with her recent promotion, there’s not many that would have handled a blood stained ghost-story barking orders at them with her perfunctory calm. 

“Planning to wash him out?” Captain Price asked, meeting him at the base of the stairs.

“With your permission of course, Sir.” Ghost let a grin stretch his mouth, but bowed his head to the Captain with sincere deference. If Price disagreed, Ghost would listen.

“Nah, you know that I trust you with this. If this is what you think will work, this is what we’ll do.” Price held open the door to Ghost's working room for him.

Stepping up to Gedaliah, Ghost let his excitement shine through his eyes. Reveling in the nervous swallow that bobbed in the other man’s throat. This wasn’t what Gedaliah had come to expect. The door had only opened long enough to permit Ghost’s entry for the past three days, Gedaliah hadn’t seen another human in at least seven before that. Thaddeus didn’t seem excited about this sudden change in routine.

Smart man.

Any wounds still freely bleeding were bluntly staunched, a gag stuffed into his mouth, hands tied behind his back, and his ankles secured to his hands. Ghost tested the give of the serviceable hog-tie, then hauled him up over his shoulder. Easily ignoring all squirming as he carried him out of the room, giving Price a thankful nod. 

Router Woods was a barbed and fenced-in copse of woods that made up a not insignificant part of the base’s northern footprint. It was occasionally utilised for training programs or punishments. 

After a quiet walk around the back of the base, so as to not prematurely scar any rooks and FNGs, Price and Ghost approached the south entrance. Router Woods' south entrance, matching all of its other entrances, was two trees with orange flags tied round their trunks with a rotting shack nearby that holds some surplus supplies, a log-book, and -if you’re very very lucky- a pen. 

Ghost dropped his luggage, rolling out his shoulders as Price popped into the booth to check the log-book.

“All clear. Last person logged as leaving 15:34 yesterday with no new entries.” Price read off, stretching the book's tether to get it into the light coming in through the shack’s open door.

“Good-”

“L.T! Price!” Came a cheery shout, the voice lilting with an unmistakable Scottish brogue.

“Johnny,” Ghost greeted, reeling in the Scot by the back of his neck to rub his balaclava-covered cheek over the top of his warhawk. Grinning at the happy squirming Johnny struggled to contain as he tried to stay firmly within range of the affectionate marking. 

“Hi, Si,” Soap murmured after Ghost lifted his head, staring up at him with warm eyes that roiled with possessive greedy insatiable want. 

“Hi, Johnny,” Ghost murmured in return, rocking him gently by the firm grip he'd kept on his neck.

“That's enough of that, you muppets,” Price cut in, tossing the log-book back into the shack and securing the door with the Military Grade slide-latch that had been crookedly screwed into the frame. 

“Aye, right,” Johnny shook himself off after Ghost reluctantly released him, “Wha’d ye need me for then?” 

“Need you to wash out a target, Soap” Price informed him as Ghost didn’t seem inclined. Distracted, as the Lieutenant was, with watching his Sergeant. 

“Oh, ye always give me the nicest ‘hings, L.T,” Soap all but purred, staring into those heated brown eyes, a wicked curl taking up the edges of his lips. 

“You’re not too tired, Johnny?” Ghost questioned.

“Nae, L.T. Hadnae even started mah workout when Winslow grabbed me.” Soap reassured, reining in the instincts urging him to wiggle about and rub happily up against his superiors.

Gedaliah chose that moment to take umbrage with being ignored and began flailing about like a landed fish, drawing Johnny’s gaze. The Sergeant's pupils focusing in on the roped man with a predatory gleam. 

“Someone’s eager,” Price’s face was serious, but the crinkles at the corners of his eyes betrayed him, pleased to see his men happy, “I’ll just get our friend ready while you bring Soap up to speed, shall I,”

Ghost planted a hand on Johnny’s chest and walked him back a few steps, clocking the way his eyes never lost their lock on Gedaliah. “Soap,” He drew Johnny's focus to him, grabbing him by the chin when the Sergeant's eyes kept darting to where Price had given up unraveling Ghost’s knots and was cutting Gedaliah free.

“MacTavish.” He shook the Scot by the jaw, letting his fingers press firmly into Johnny’s cheeks, feeling the shapes of his teeth under his fingertips. Staring into his Sergeant's eyes to make sure he had his full attention, he felt Johnny nod into his grip. Letting Ghost know that he had him now. 

“Limbs only, No body-shots, No touching the head. He's mine, I’m not done with him.” Ghost kept his words calm and clear, making sure Johnny was registering what he was saying, “Copy?”

“Aye, Ghost.” Soap nodded, taking in deep huffing breaths, “Not mine.”

Ghost smiled at the basso notes creeping into Johnny’s voice, releasing his face and giving him a rough pat on the head, “Good boy.”

A scuffle snapped Johnny’s attention back to where Price was restraining Gedaliah, the man had tried to break Price’s grip, but the Captain still had him well in hand. 

“Ready? Ghost, you have a set of comms?” Price questioned, and at the successive yesses released his hold on Gedaliah, shooing the man into the woods when he turned a hesitant look on them, “Well go on then, you wanted to run didn't you?” Price raised a mocking eyebrow, nodding with satisfaction when Gedaliah promptly turned tail and skedaddled into the woods. 

“You gonna run him or makin’ it quick?” Price propped his hands against his hips and turned back to Ghost, keeping an absent eye on Soap stripping down to his skivvies beside the Lieutenant.

 “Run him,” Ghost replied, his full attention on the now sky-clad Scot beside him. Without looking away, Ghost pulled a small bell out of a pocket, hooked it onto himself and tugged free the rag that stopped its ringing, “Need him scared,” 

Soap’s breathing slowed and rasped. A rumbling echoing up from deep in his chest as he stared into the trees. Trembles and shakes taking over his muscles. His skin jumping like a horse twitching off flies. 

“You got that, Johnny?”

“Aye,” The word crackled from Johnny’s throat and the first grotesque snap rent the air. Soap fell into a crouch as his balance became compromised. His form warping, twisting, reforming into something broader, taller, furrier. 

The nauseating noises slowed to a stop and Soap walked his front limbs forward, letting his claws dig into the dirt as he dropped his hips close to the ground, giving a great whining yawn as he stretched his back out in a passing imitation of snake-pose. 

“Soap,” The amalgamation of wolf and man whipped its head around at Ghost’s call, Johnny’s blue eyes watching him from above that sharp-fanged muzzle. Ghost swung a flat palmed hand out to indicate the woods and barked, “Fass!” 

The werewolf wasted no time, launching forwards into the trees, sniffing briefly at the dirt to check which direction his prey had run, then picking up speed. Ears swiveling, focused on finding any sign of his quarry, Soap absently registered the quiet chiming that meant Ghost was following behind. A splash of blood on the leaf litter lit up his senses and sent him flying after the source.

Johnny’s brown-furred tail vanished amongst the foliage, followed by a crash and screams that Ghost easily recognized as Gedaliah’s. He picked up his pace to an easy jog, coming upon the scene of Gedaliah with his arm stuck tight in the trap of Soap’s jaws. The werewolf was growling like a Harley and standing dominantly over the prone man, giving into his instincts to snarl and shake his prey every so often. Drawing pained wails from Gedaliah.

“Good, Soap,” Ghost calls, amused by the immediate tail-wag the praise gifts him, “Soap, Aus!”

Well-trained as any military man, Soap immediately releases the arm and backs off a few steps, slavering jaws shaking with the need to regrab his prey. 

“You didn’t even get ten metres,” Ghost tsks down at Gedaliah.

The strangely amiable voice jolts Gedaliah out of the paralyzing staredown he’d been trapped in with Soap and he scrambles to turn over onto his belly, stumbling to his feet. Strange, Ghost hadn’t got around to working on Gedaliah’s legs yet. 

Watching Gedaliah catch his balance against a trunk, Ghost offers some advice, “If I were you, I wouldn’t…” He trails off as Gedaliah takes off into the trees, leaving a trail of heinous cursing like bread-crumbs, “...run.” Ghost continues, glancing down to where Johnny is dancing on his paws, straining at the invisible leash of Ghost’s command, “It only triggers his prey-drive.” 

He watches Gedaliah bull his way farther into the forest, pleased to see that the man’s legs do seem to be working fine, it must have just been fear weakening his knees. Soap’s whining pitches up, the occasional yelp and quiet yowl creeping in as his new toy gets further and further away, but the werewolf doesn’t give voice to anything Ghost could reasonably call a bark.

What a good boy.

“Fass.” The syllable had barely crossed Ghost’s teeth before Johnny was racing away. Kicking up dirt and baying like a maniac. 

Ghost gives a wry shake of his head. He cannot believe he actually fell for that idiot. With a sigh that held more affection than exasperation, he started jogging after them. Maybe two more take-downs and Gedaliah should be more willing to talk. 

Ahead of him, Johnny tries to make a quick turn, doesn’t account for his momentum and skids sideways into a tree with a canopy shaking thud. The oversized mutt shakes himself, sniffs around, then takes off again. Tail wagging with uncontained joy the whole time.

Maybe three more take-downs.

Thank You For Reading!

So I chose to interpret drive as 'Prey Drive', and for that I needed it to be werewolf!soap and handler!ghost, nothing else fit. Also as you might have guessed, in this au, the 141 chose a homebase that has a little forest so wolfy Soap can run around in it.

I can't promise that all of my Ghoaptober responses will be this long, they most likely will not, but I'll try my best to make them nice to read regardless!

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