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slimybeth69 · 19 hours ago

Text

Girl Dinner

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

Part 1 of 4- Knocked Loose

Rating: explicit -

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

thanks to @bonezone44 for this idea.

w/c : 9k (whoops)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mister-man wouldn't hurt'chya…

Yes, he would. He's a man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Goner!

Splat!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Remember that time he took a nap?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just to sit in his chair.

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

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

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

Good-fucking-riddance.

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

Shhhhhh!!!! He's coming.

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

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

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

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

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

He continues to sneak very quietly.

Can't hide from us.

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

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

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

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

Fuck, he really can't hear for shit.

"He sure can't."

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

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

Not again.

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

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

Probably get gutted like a pig.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"—let me go!"

"—stay forever!"

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

"Yep!" You exclaim happily.

Did he say that aloud?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now look at him, upside down!

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

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

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

"Wait! Wait—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, ya' did good, kid.

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

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

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

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

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

The sweet voice is right!

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

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

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

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

He's also awake.

"Hi, Mist—"

"Let me go."

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

Mister-man stares at you.

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

"Let. Me. Go."

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

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

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

"Shut th'fuck up, untie me—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Watchin' me?" Joel scoffs.

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

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

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

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

"Maybe a little embarrassed--"

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

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

"Would you shut th'fuck up?!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Guilt. You should just kill him right now--

"Hurt him?"

Mister stops shouting, and raises one eyebrow at you.

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

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

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

Because she tied him up--

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

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

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

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

"Do I need to get the brick again?"

Joel stops shouting.

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

You're being so, so gentle!

He's acting like a giant baby.

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

He'll forgive you, Sugar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sug, he's so pretty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where would I find meat?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What kinda movies ya' got?"

He wishes he never asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He could have really hurt her, are you serious?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hit him.

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

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

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

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

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

Mister glares at you with his almost black eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You feel it now, too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Gunna bite me if I kiss ya'?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Still hurts."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not lyin'-"

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

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

"Fine."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was your least favorite eye!

Kill. Him.

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

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

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

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

You have to whack Joel twice before he goes unconcious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh Sug, he's down bad.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why is he so upset!?

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

Soon.

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

He's just gotta wear something else first.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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joelsprettyprincess · 1 day ago

Text

Taming of the Shrew - Part 2

Pairing: dark!Arthur Morgan x f!reader Summary: Although you've ended your relationship with Arthur, he gets you to agree to one final rendezvous. Series-wide tags: Toxic relationships, manipulation, obsessive behavior, smut, secretly unprotected piv, babytrapping, pregnancy, canon-typical violence, slight canon-typical misogyny. Wordcount: 3.7k A/N: I was not expecting that much love on part 1! I'm so glad yall enjoyed! Here's part 2 and where things get juicy 🤭. And before you ask, yes they had condoms in 1899!! They just weren't very good.. Also, I do not profess to be an expert on pregnancy, I just looked things up and hoped for the best. 😭 Sorry if anything's inaccurate. This chapter contains smut. And as always MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Tags: @dandelion-ranch @i-will-give-you-love @amaranth-writing @heloixe @buneio @warmsideofthepillow03 @thoughts-of-bear @luzzbuzz

Part 1 Part 3

Several days had passed since you told Arthur to never speak to you again.

You didn’t mean it. You couldn’t have. Your love, though short, had burned like a phoenix: though it was currently snuffed, Arthur knew it would soon rise again.

He knew better than to approach you again, though. So he wrote a letter.

My love.

My darling, my princess. I am in pain while writing this. Not because of any physical injury, but because I miss you badly indeed. My heart burns for you, for your touch, your skin on mine, even just one last time.

I am certain you feel the same way. If you do, please meet me at our spot near Ringneck Creek at noon next Monday.

I swear this will be the last time I will contact you. If you don’t show, I’ll know your decision is final. However I know you will. I know our love was something real. Please don’t make a fool of me.

Forever yours,

Arthur

Arthur posted the letter on a Monday, giving you nearly a full week to make a decision. He was on edge after that, wondering if you would actually show. Would you bring your father, or even a bounty hunter, to capture him? Or would you just not show at all?

Thankfully most everyone in camp left him alone; the news of your loud departure had spread fast. There was the occasional ribbing from Micah, but he was like a mosquito buzzing in everyone’s face. Arthur paid him no mind.

Dutch told him it was a waste of time.

“Women are a complete mystery, son,” he told him Sunday night, puffing on his cigar. “Trust me, you’re better off being single forever.” He didn’t seem to care that Molly was behind him in the tent, hopefully sleeping.

But he didn’t know the inner workings of Arthur’s mind. Didn’t know what he planned to do.

Monday morning, he bathed and trimmed his beard. As much as he hated to admit it, Arthur was nervous.

He scoffed. Headshotting O’Driscolls barely raised his heart rate, but the thought of seeing you again had him jumpy like that Kieran boy.

Arthur rode over to the spot early. It was a good isolated spot a little ways away from the creek, where you two had slept together a couple times.

He spread down a blanket and cleaned his guns while he waited for you.

About half an hour later, he heard the crunching of leaves and turned around. Your familiar form entered his field of vision; suddenly, Arthur was breathless.

You were here. You’d actually come. And you appeared to be alone.

You hitched your horse next to his, then came down to the blanket. “Hey,” you said, smiling softly.

“Yes, well.” You smoothed your skirts. “Just can’t help m’self, I suppose. But listen, Arthur…this is the last time I’m seeing you. Seriously. I don’t even know why I came here–”

Arthur pulled you down beside him. “You came.” He cleared his throat. “I knew you would.”

“Alright, shh,” Arthur interrupted, taking your hand in his and softly pressing his lips to yours.

“Mm,” you sighed, immediately melting into his touch. He might be rough around the edges, but Arthur surely knew how to treat a woman. You’d already forgotten what you were gabbing on about.

Arthur wasted no time in deepening the kiss and pushing his tongue past your lips. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured, one hand cupping your cheek and the other on your hip.

You spent a few minutes exploring each other’s mouths and letting your hands wander. Eventually your positions shifted so Arthur was nearly laying on top of you. He spoke again.

“Come back,” he whispered. “I can’t live without you.”

That voice. It was sweet as honey. It made you want to follow him to the ends of the earth.

You avoided his gaze, pursing your slightly swollen, glazed lips. “Arthur, I can’t–”

“You love the bloodshed,” he spoke in your ear. His hand went under your skirt and ghosted over your bloomers. “You crave it. Stop actin’ like you don’t.”

“No–”

Arthur silenced you with another kiss, capturing your lips and claiming them as his, as he had done so many times before. Yet it never got old; the lusty looks and burning touches lit you on fire.

You whimpered as he slipped his hand inside your bloomers.

“We both know this doesn’t lie,” he murmured, barely grazing your folds. He kept his bright eyes steadily focused on you while he used just one finger to tease you.

A quiet moan escaped your lips.

Arthur seemed eager to get on with it. He lifted your skirt and removed your underthings, carefully setting them beside you on the blanket.

“Did my pretty girl miss me?” he breathed, massaging your thighs. You whined just a little, already anticipating his touch.

Arthur traced your bare cunt, enjoying watching you squirm.

“Arthur,” you whispered in a choked voice.

He shucked off his pants, then laid down between your legs.

Arthur was gentleman enough to service you first. He put your legs on either side of his face, and breathed in the natural scent of your pussy, again barely grazing the already soaked lips with his finger.

“S-Stop teasing me, dammit,” you moaned. He smiled. It was almost fun to see how quickly he could get you to come undone, begging for his touch.

Arthur started with small licks on the inner parts of your thighs. Your legs immediately tried to come together, but he held them apart and kept licking. Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to stay still.

He traveled up your thighs and paused just before he got to your cunt. Taking two fingers, Arthur spread your lips apart, marveling at the amount of slick already coating your entrance.

“Ah- ah, d-don’t- mmgh,” you cried. His touch was so depraved and satisfying.

Arthur dove in, pushing his tongue into your warm, sticky entrance. He gripped your thighs with his hands and held them up as he fully ate you out. He got messy with it very quickly, suckling on everything he could get a hold of.

You cried out and gripped his hair hard, bucking your hips. This kind of pleasure was completely unheard of and forbidden for girls like you, and that made it all the more filthy. You loved it. You loved every second of it. No man had ever touched you like this before, and you doubted any man ever would.

He removed his mouth for a second and rubbed circles around your sweet spot. “You’re lovin’ it, aren’t you, sweet girl?”

You breathed in and out loudly. “Yes,” you whined shamelessly.

Arthur pushed his tongue back in, appreciating how your walls tightened around him. He swore he could feel your heartbeat, pulsing in time with his.

You grinded against his face, spreading your juices everywhere, going crazy at the lewd noises being produced.

“Arthur– oh, Arthur, yes, please–”

You were getting close. It never took long for you to cum, but apparently you were touch starved right now.

Abruptly, Arthur pulled back from your pussy, breathing heavily and licking his lips.

You panted too. “Why’d you stop?”

He paused, then quickly pulled off his boxers. Oh.

Arthur pushed you down again and rubbed his girthy, veiny cock up and down your soaked pussy.

The thick mushroom head was poking at your entrance, and you wanted to let him in, but…

“Do you have…protection?” you whispered.

He nodded. “Course.” He pulled a condom packet out of his pants pocket. A primitive thing, to be sure, but it was part of the plan.

Arthur pulled it on, then nosed his tip so it was just breaching your entrance. You sighed loudly, spreading your legs a bit more.

He pushed in. A creamy noise was produced, but even louder was your pained moan. It was a stretch to fit him in, even when he had prepped you first.

This was only the second time he’d gone all the way like this. There was no reliable way of avoiding pregnancy, so you simply didn’t allow him to do it. But this was a special occasion. After this, you were done with each other, forever.

Arthur sighed and pushed into you even further, watching your pussy lips greedily suck in his cock.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured. “Letting me in so nicely.”

He started to thrust in and out slowly. You threw your head back and panted, whining loudly and mumbling his name.

His cock repeatedly filled you to the brim and you squeezed your tight walls around him. Your juices quickly coated the condom, allowing him to more easily push the rest of his cock in.

Soon he was pushing in and out, all the way to the burst of hair at his base. Arthur groaned lowly, biting your shoulder and holding onto your hips with his big hands, kneading your ass.

After a few minutes of bliss, he shifted positions; Arthur pressed your legs almost to your chest and held them there, hitting deeper and deeper into your sticky cunt.

You moaned loudly, finding his hair again and holding it tightly. His full balls slapped against your ass.

“Like that?” he muttered. “You like that, you uppity little–” He groaned loudly, going faster and rougher.

“Arthur, Arthur,” you sobbed, curling your toes. “Please, I’m g-gonna–”

With a muffled cry, you came undone on his cock, toes curling, legs shaking, cunt spasming and letting out more of your juices all over his cock and the blanket.

“That’s right, let it out, sweetheart,” he gasped. “I’m close too, baby, shit–”

Arthur pressed himself into you and stilled, panting, eyes tightly shut. You could feel his cock twitching as he rode out his orgasm in your soaked through cunt.

His lips collided with yours in a sloppy, desperate kiss, and he slowly thrusted a couple more times before pulling out.

The condom was smeared in your juices.

Arthur sighed. “Hopefully it didn’t break. I tried to get a good one.”

You chuckled nervously. “Hopefully not.”

He helped you clean up, wiping you down and putting your clothes back on. You hoped his smell (it wasn’t a bad one, just distinct) wouldn’t cling to your clothes.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this,” you told him as you prepared to remount your horse. “But if you ever decide to stop being an outlaw…you know where to find me.”

“I love you,” Arthur said simply.

You flushed, and looked away.

“Goodbye, Arthur.”

You rode off.

Arthur waited till you were out of sight to smile.

You were really gullible. A condom, seriously? Even pulling out was more reliable. These things broke more easily than a cheap lock. Even if it hadn’t, he’d cut a small hole into the tip that ensured he’d painted your walls white. If it dripped out, you would probably just assume it to be your own juices.

Now it was just a waiting game.

Two months later.

Your maid, Elisabeth, stared at you frightfully as you bent over a bucket for the 3rd time this week, vomiting horribly. You breathed heavily, then vomited again. There was nothing even in your stomach, which made it so much worse.

“Are you alright, ma’am?’ she squeaked, standing by with a towel.

You were too nauseous to answer. You clutched your stomach, head spinning and mind racing.

Your stomach had been in shambles this week and the last, and it was getting concerning.

After a few labored breaths, you grabbed the towel and wiped off your mouth. “Let's visit the doctor.”

Elisabeth gave you some cool water to sip, which helped a bit but not much. You could hardly stand to get on the carriage, and then it was like you were on a merry-go-round with the way it was hitting every bump in the road.

You leaned over the side and emptied your stomach yet again.

It was possible this sickness had a terrifying explanation, one that you couldn't even begin to imagine. Lord, protect me, you prayed despairingly.

One agonizingly slow and nauseating ride later, you pulled up next to the doctor's office. Elisabeth had to coax you down, and she was clearly scared you would projectile vomit on her. The world was swimming around you and had a hazy feel.

You stumbled into the office and leaned against the cool wall.

“You alright, ma'am?” a voice asked. It was Dr. Williams, an older gentleman who'd been in Rhodes for years.

“I-I think I have a fever,” you whispered, fanning yourself. “Been throwing up everywhere.”

He quickly escorted you to a room in the back, and you collapsed into the chair.

Dr. Williams examined you, looking inside your mouth and pressing various points on your body.

“Any symptoms besides vomiting?” he inquired.

You shook your head. “Don't believe so.”

“When did they start?”

“I'd say…maybe two weeks ago.”

He hummed and thought for a bit while examining you. “Is there a chance you could be with child?”

You started, then stopped, then froze.

No…

“Err,” you stuttered.

He waited for your answer.

“I-I-...well, I suppose it ain't impossible,” you admitted fearfully.

Dr. Williams nodded. “Unless you have some strange fever, it is my opinion that you're suffering from morning sickness.”

Your heart dropped to your feet and started beating like a jackrabbit's. No. No. Lord, please.

“That can't be true,” you said desperately. “It-It- was so long ago…I don't…”

“It takes a bit for symptoms to present,” the doctor explained.

“B-But I can't, I can't be,” you cried, panicking. “You don't understand, my life is over if I'm with child. Over!” You stood up and started pacing around.

“Admittedly it’s still too early to tell for certain,” Dr. Williams allowed. “However, I have seen this many times before. There are options–”

“No! There are no options!” you snapped. “I am the daughter of an oil baron and a society lady! J-just imagining the shame, the disgrace–...my mother will kill me. And if she doesn't, I'll be sent away to the corners of the earth.”

You burst into tears at this declaration, falling to your knees and covering your face in shame. Dr. Williams hung back, perhaps sensing that you needed a minute.

After you collected yourself and stood up, you said in a quiet, cold voice: “There is no way I am pregnant. I thank you for your expertise, Dr. Williams, but in this case you are incorrect. I simply have a fever. Good day.”

You swept out of the building with your head held high, collecting your maid and getting back on the carriage.

The two of you had barely left the town borders before you broke down and started crying again. Pregnant? A child? You? It could not be true. It could not.

And…and definitely not by Arthur, of all people. He was like a firecracker, burning hot and dangerous, the exact opposite of a…father.

Even that word burned acrid on your tongue.

“Do you need somethin’, miss?” Elisabeth asked tentatively.

You sighed, wiped your face, and shook your head sadly. “No…no thank you. I'm alright.”

The ride back home was silent save for your sniffles and forlorn sighs. You refused to accept this possibility.

You felt you would rather be tarred and feathered than even think about telling your mother about your condition. Your outburst at Dr. Williams had barely covered it; your parents were continually telling you to act perfectly, to never step out of line. Even though they were far from perfect.

Your mother was the biggest hypocrite you knew. She thought you didn't see her inviting the help in for "tea". Well, you did, not that you cared much. It was just sickening that she set expectations for you that she herself had never reached.

She'd threatened you with the nunnery before, after catching you with one of the stable boys. Said that “wicked girls were destined for the deepest pits of hell.” Hmph. She was definitely an expert on the subject.

As for your father, well, he wasn't much better. Though he didn't verbally abuse you like your mother, he viewed you more like a liability among his property. You were certain he would marry you off if it would benefit his emerging empire. He would see this…predicament as something that could damage his reputation. If your mother chose to send you away, you doubted he would make much of a fuss.

Thankfully, the churning in your stomach faded on the way home, and only your mind remained in shambles.

You tried to avoid your mother when you arrived at the manor, but of course she was in the front room, waiting for you.

“What did the doctor say?” she inquired as you put down your things.

“Just a mild fever,” you replied shortly, then power walked to your room. But she followed.

“Are you sure? Do you have a temperature? Did he give you any medicine?” she pressed, following your impatient footsteps right up to your bedroom door.

“Mother, I'll be fine. It's not serious,” you said angrily, then closed the door behind you firmly.

You waited until her heels clicked away down the wooden stairs, then collapsed on your bed and sobbed some more.

My life might be over.

A month and a half later.

Your life was over.

Completely and utterly.

The nausea had not stopped, and in fact it got worse the week after you went to the doctor. That had been the peak of pain, but it still remained for another two weeks afterwards, lurking like some shadowy beast.

Your dresses, tailored exactly to your measurements, had become just a little bit tighter. At first you had brushed it off as an indulgent diet, or just stress weight, but even your mother had commented on how your dress was pulled tight over your torso.

After that, you took care to hide your body under the heaviest dresses you could manage. But it was summer by now, and staying out of sight was a tall order.

Your mother repeatedly asked you to go to the doctor again, and perhaps seek out a second opinion, and you refused, insisting that it was just a fever. But you could tell she wasn’t believing you. She gave you strange looks when you said you felt nauseous yet again.

It was a stormy day in June when you finally had the courage to take off your clothes and examine your body in the floor-length, gilded mirror in your boudoir.

A mistake.

Your blood turned to ice as you saw the unmistakable bump that was forming.

Your breathing accelerated along with your mind, thoughts racing and jumbling and colliding, coming to one stunning, awful conclusion:

I’m pregnant.

You were pregnant. With child. An expectant mother.

What a joke.

You? A mother? What a ridiculously absurd notion. You would sooner be a clown in a traveling circus.

And…that man was the father. The man that haunted your thoughts and your dreams, the man whose scent still clung ever so faintly to one of your riding dresses. The man whose mere name sent shivers down your spine.

Arthur Morgan.

You put your clothes back on, then left the room, intending to get a snack, but before even making it to the stairs your mother pounced on you.

“Alright, I simply must insist that you tell me what is really going on,” she declared. “No fever lasts this long, and you have no temperature at all.”

You tried to dodge her, but she blocked your path, clearly dead set on getting an answer from you.

“It’s nothing, Mother, I told you before,” you said, irritated. It absolutely was not nothing, but you needed time to plan your strategy.

“If it’s nothing, why have you been nauseous for the past…” She paused, then narrowed her eyebrows.

Before you could step back, she poked your stomach with one finger. You of course involuntarily jumped back.

“What- What are you doing?” you gasped, nervous.

“Let me see your stomach.”

“What?”

She pushed you towards your room. “I said, let me see your stomach, girl. Lift up your skirts.”

You scoffed, heart pounding like a drum. “Why would I do that?”

You were forced back into your bedroom, and your mother closed and locked the door behind her. “I just want to look at it.”

This was quite a pickle.

“I- I really don’t think that’s necessary, Mother-”

She grabbed at your skirts, impatient. You jumped back. “Stop it! Fine, I will.”

She was going to find out eventually.

Your mother crossed her arms and waited with anticipation as you slowly lifted your skirt. The blood was rushing in your ears and you prayed to God that you would survive the next five minutes.

Eventually your skirt revealed the still developing but definitely noticeable bump you had.

The room was dead silent. Your mother stared at your belly in shock, lips slightly parted.

Then her mouth closed and formed a hard scowl. “Would you care to explain the meaning of this?”

You blinked several times, trying to find your voice, but it was lost and long gone.

“Are you-” She swallowed hard. “Are you…with child?”

She stared at you. Her glare kept you still and pinned you down like a bug on display.

You eventually nodded, wordless and terrified.

“And who is the father, pray tell?”

You just stared at the ground.

“Answer me, girl,” she said sharply.

There was no way you were going to tell her that. It would genuinely be better for her to assume you were so loose you couldn’t even pinpoint the father.

Your mother pinched her nose, and sighed, shaking her head. “We’re going to have a little talk with your father when he comes home. Remain in your room; I have no desire to see you anymore.” With those pleasant parting words, she stomped out, slamming the door behind you.

Once her footsteps faded away, you sat on your bed, numbly thinking of what to do.

Your father was sure to agree with any punishment your mother dreamed up. He was more like a manager than a father, and he had no qualms about letting a bad employee go.

Or…or maybe he wouldn’t? Perhaps his indifference would work in your favor, and he would tell your mother not to bother? Maybe he’d even pay someone to take care of it.

These were all hypotheticals. There was no telling what would really happen until it actually occurred.

Your father was due home soon. It was just your luck that he was taking a half-day in the office.

Ugh.

End of Part 2.

#18+ mdni #arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #low honor arthur morgan #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption

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lauren-no-why · 2 days ago

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Oh fun! Man this post is long haha, took some scrolling to get here. I have only just rolled out of bed, hopefully my answers are coherent.

Last song: Want to be Free, British Sea Power. Looks like I didn't quite get to the end of the album before I put a stop to it so I could focus on something. Let the Dancers Inherit the Party is a fun one. (ALSO SHIT I DIDN'T KNOW THERE WAS A NEW NARCISSIST COOKBOOK ALBUM OUT? HELL YEAH THANK YOU FOR MENTIONING THIS)

Favorite color: Blue, generally, but especially the darker blues toward indigo.

Last book: That I finished? Always Running by Luis Rodriguez. Honestly this is one of the books that should be on those lists of things kids need to read in high school except it keeps getting banned. Extremely influential, so glad I read it. Autobiography of a teen in the Lomas gang in east LA in the late 1960s-early 1970s, who becomes deeply involved in making his community better in the midst of the new Chicano rights movement.

And now I'm back on my usual beloved bullshit with Absolution by Jeff Vandemeer (so glad my held copy finally came in haha I had it on hold since October...)

Last film: Uh... hm. I don't watch a lot of movies. Might have been Late Night with the Devil? Which I recommend but with the caveat that you should pirate it because they used genAI in the movie a couple of times and that was fucking stupid of them and everyone noticed. It's a shame too because if they hadn't I'd be in the "throw money at these people" camp, it's a great little horror film otherwise.

Last show: My beloved PBS SpaceTime. I have a few videos to catch up on. Super excited about the next one about the news that came out recently about the shape of an electron.

Sweet/spicy/savory: They all go together. Gochujang rules. Why would I pick one of my precious best and favorite children?

Relationship status: lmao (always single and loving it)

Last thing I googled: Well now it's the new Narcissist Cookbook album. Because I just woke up and am braindead and googled instead of just going straight to bandcamp.

Current obsession: The World Enders. The Phantom Riders. The Redmayne boys. Just Lord Huron things.

Currently coexisting side by side with how fast my heart was pounding during The Big Final Loop in Outer Wilds, especially That Part With The Teeth but also the whole thing really. That last loop is going to be with me for a while.

tagging: uhhh feel free to ignore but I must pass it along! @long-lost-soul @spectromagic @leucrotta @yarrowace

Ten People I’d Like to Get to Know Better

tagged by: @orphiclovers

last song: It’s all been Christmas retail crap or if you count the radio on the drive home playing Avril Lavigne

fav color: this pale seafoam green for things or white for clothes

last book: Eclipse by Wilder (poetry)

last movie: Deadpool & Wolverine

last show: N/A

sweet/spicy/savory: sweet and savory

relationship status: 4 people proposed to me this year. 1 meant it fr 🥹 (engaged irl) otherwise I have a harem on AO3 going.

last thing i googled: how big is a wintermelon?

current obsession: cooking and Infinity Nikki

looking forward to: I’m planning a road trip with the girls later this week!!

Tagging: @auuwmk, @ssunfish, @ajhaijma, @stoneclaw, @quiteboared, @kiwiandmint, @dgeneralacc, @rex44201, @readingdreaming4951, @thottykunikida

#ask meme #sort of #close enough

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ghostmoon1 · 3 days ago

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You know what, to start the year off, Imma make this lil appreciation post.

Now it's only been like, less than a year since I joined Tumblr about, I've been writing and drawing for years before this point, but the community here, especially the CoD community which I am mainly apart of just made me feel amazing. Everyone I've met here are some of the nicest people.

I have gotten my old hobbies back, giving me reason to write and draw again which have majorly helped with my own mental health, and now I just wanted to give the amazing people a shout out to start the year off, to hopefully make peoples days, and to just let them know that I appreciate yall!

In no specific order :3 and if you don't wanna be pinged again by me, please let me know and I won't!! No harm done, I hope this is okay :) and this is prob gonna be cringe or smt.. all sappy but like.Yeah here yall are lmao-

Putting them under the cut as there are a few :3

@gomzdrawfr - You've been a massive influence since I joined the CoD community, I adored your art from the very start, and your just such a sweet and kind person, one that I'm so thankful to have met, and so proud to be able to call you my friend. You're the first proper friend I've made here, and I can't tell you how much our talks make me smile every single time. And I'm also so thankful for the community you have sorta helped me get into, you've helped me feel comfortable interacting with more people here :3

@shadeops21 - You were honestly the person that got me to join Tumblr! I was looking for something to try and make my own Konig cosplay (that's been given up on bc motivation and Tik Tok just. yeahhh) and I found you, and all your amazing work! I basically made my account to see if you'd make any more, cause I just love what you do so much, it's got to be so helpful for so many people!!

@sleepyconfusedpotato - After Shadeops, you were the very second person I found here! And oh my gosh how much I obsessed (and still do) over your art, especially Jade. You inspired me to write my first ever fic on here, actually, where I made my first CoD oc ship with Soap, your art and what you do honestly helped me feel comfortable making something like that for myself, cause some of the toxic people on Tik Tok made me uneasy and unsure about that lol- And now, I finally have an OC I'm working in depth on, and you're my biggest reason to thank for that.

@soaps-mohawk - Your writing has inspired me so much, and I couldn't thank you enough for making your wonderful fic. I may not be like, a OG, but I've been there since around chapter 20 I think? I could be wrong, but half way through sorta. You are the biggest reason I started writing again here, you just create masterpieces. And this is the first time I've ever been hooked into a fic so much, and what got me into liking the Omegaverse (you hooked me and I can't let go of it now...) Thank you for taking your time with your writing, and thank you for all the inspiration you have given me.

@on-a-lucky-tide - Oh my gosh how much you have yanked me into the Nikprice community. I adore every single one of your writing pieces, and honestly, you are another who has helped inspire me to write more. All your writing is so filled with emotion and love, I want to be able to do that as well. Your a wonderful person, I've seen you interact with this community and everyone, and I just adore you as a person and all the hard work you put time and effort into creating.

@rainyrambles-overcod - I adore your oc's and rambles so much!! And I couldn't tell you how happy it makes me to have a friend that is okay with the tag games, I never know who to tag for those sorta things, but I actually feel okay tagging you and they are so fun and always brighten my mood :3 Keep creating, I can't wait to see what else you come up with. Thank you for all the tag games and fun!!

@nekrosmos - Yet another that has helped drag me into the Nikprice community or cult ig that too. Your art is absolutely amazing, I truly want to be able to draw like you do. Just everything about your art has me in awe, the emotion, the style, the love everything. Seeing your art brings me so much happiness! Oh and your writing is BEAUTIFUL. That also brings me joy to take a little time out of my day to sit and read the time and effort you put into everything, and how kind of a person you are. I always hope you'll keep creating, and always remember how much joy you bring both myself and others.

@daredaredoodles - I know we don't interact a whole lot, but you honestly mean a lot to me still. You were my first ever mutual on this site, and I will be forever grateful for this. Personally its anxiety that stops me from barging into peoples Dm's and talking, but yeah. Thank you for that, even if it is only a small thing.

@cricricorner - you were my first follower, and I still see you in my notifications from time to time, which always brings me joy! It's wonderful to see your followers still interact with your content, and I couldn't say how grateful I am. I couldn't tell you how happy I was to gain my first follower here, so thank you for taking your time to read my writing and see my art.

@daydreamsareallineed - You were pretty much the first person to show so much interest in my main fic!! And oh my gosh I couldn't ever tell you how much joy it brought me to read your comments, to have someone so interested in my writing, that personally I didn't even think was that good. I haven't given up completely on the fic dw, I'll hopefully update it soon! Motivation just go brrr. Thank you so much for all your support, it means the world to me.

And another shoutout to everyone who supports me, who follows me, and to every single one of you that like and reblog my content. I look through every single note I receive, I assure you none of you are left out.

And my final shoutout to everyone that creates on this site. The community here is like nothing I've ever experienced before. I adore scrolling through everyone's art, it all makes my day. I've never felt so comfortable and unjudged before. Thank you to everyone who contributes to this, you all make my day <3

This turned out a lot longer than I meant it to be- but I just wanted to share how I felt with this new year. I'm sorry if you'd rather not be pinged-

But have a lovely day :3 I love you all!!

#moonie talks

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rapmonjoon94 · 3 days ago

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Desire

Summary: You hate working your bartending job on New Years Eve. The only thing getting you through is your best friend Jimin, and knowing there is a cute new hire who seems to be down for some fun

Word Count: 10k

Paring: Taehyung/Jimin/Reader (Side Vimin)

Rating: 18+/M minors do not interact!

Tags: Smut, porn with little plot, Jimin is a flirt, Taehyung is a flirt, grinding with clothes on, make outs, dirty talk, Tae gets called good boy a lot and he likes it, dom Jimin, threesomes, hand jobs, blowjobs, vaginal fingering, tae's hands get tied up, eating pussy, use of cock rings, use of vibrators, edging, sub tae, fingers in butts, Jimin fucks, Tae fucks, reader gets fucked, use of condoms (Be safe!)

Authors note: This idea has been floating around my head for MONTHS and finally I was like eh lets do it and here we are. This is smutty and filthy and yeah just....yeah. Enjoy!

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Your heels click-clacked against the concrete as you walked around the block from your day job. You hoisted your bag higher on your shoulder and let out a grumble when soft snowflakes began to fall from the sky. The air was bitingly cold, and you wrapped your stylish coat against your body, cursing under your breath as you wished you had brought your big puffer jacket.

The temperature was dropping rapidly and you let out a weary sigh as you pulled the neck of your coat higher against your cheeks to ward off the chill.

This was going to be a long night. You didn’t even know why you agreed to pick up an extra shift at The Luxe Lounge, on New Year’s Eve of all times but you knew your credit card bills would come in soon from Christmas and the extra income would be nice.

You hiked your bag higher and finally after ten minutes of walking you came across the sign illuminated against the grey sky as the snow started to fall harder.

It was only five p.m., but people were already starting to line up outside, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

In your opinion, New Year’s Eve was always overrated. You would much rather stay home in comfy clothes and watch movies instead of paying for overpriced booze and standing with a bunch of strangers who were desperate for a midnight kiss.

Or maybe that was the cynic in you.

The line already had at least thirty people in it and you brushed past them all, not bothering to give them the time of day or take in their complaints as you cut the line to where Jimin was standing in a chic black puffer coat.

His hair was dark and stylishly pushed back from his face, he had minimal eye makeup, just enough to make him look dangerous and sexy and you wondered who he was dressing up for tonight.

One girl let out an annoyed huff and you whirled on your heel to face her.

“I’m not cutting the line. I work here.” You bite out already annoyed with the night and it had not even started.

She just rolled her eyes and you let out your own huff of annoyance as you waited for Jimin to catch your eye.

“Oh Hey!” He calls after a minute of you standing in the cold.

You shuffle forward cutting off the girl who gave you attitude earlier and stand in front of him as he pulls you into a crushing hug.

“Jimin! I’m going to be late for my shift!” You say between giggles as he holds you for a moment then pulls away flashing you a bright grin.

“That‘s a lie darling and we both know it. You don’t start till six. I was surprised to see you on the staff sheet tonight. You hate New Year’s Eve. You’re going to be miserable.” He all but cackles as you roll your eyes to the sky.

“Yes well, Christmas bills and all. Plus I didn’t want to miss out on your gorgeous face. Last time I see it before the New Year.” You teasingly flirt as this time Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Always such a charmer. Okay well, you can head on in. I know I don’t have to check your ID corporate girl.”

You scowl at him.

“Yes, corporate girl by day killer bartender by night. What a glamourous life I live.” You deadpan as Jimin stands there and grins.

“Well, hopefully, you brought some slutty clothes to show off your….assets. Big tips tonight you know.” He teases with an eyebrow raised as you smack his arm.

“I dress modestly.” You argue back.

“And that’s why you complain about money. Be slutty get more tips. It’s bartending 101.” He says as more people cue up behind you to get into the bar.

“Well I think this skirt shows off enough of my assets and it’s uncomfortable as fuck so I’m going to head in and change thank you.” You say as Jimin throws his head back and laughs.

“Yeah Yeah head on in. I’ll be out here freezing my ass off with this bunch.” He gestures to the long line of people.

“Show off your assets. Maybe it will make it more enjoyable.” You parrot back to him as you brushed past but a hand on your arm stopped you and you turned to see Jimin grabbing your arm, his face close to yours and eyes alight with mischief.

“Speaking of assets. If you want to see some good ass…ets you should see the new coat room guy. Holy shit I think I might actually be in love. Check him out. Let me know what you think.” He says voice low.

“Why am I screening your potential dates?” You groan pulling your arm from him.

“Because you have great taste in men. And who else am I going to ask? Namjoon? Yoongi? Please.” He huffs out.

“What time does Namjoon come in to take over?” You ask Jimin thinking fondly of the big burly security guard who looks intimidating but is soft as a teddy bear.

“Eleven. Thank fuck.” Jimin says.

“I’ll scope him out. Come find me at eleven and we will talk.” You say as you give him a salute and he smiles at you.

Your body is met with warm air as you finally enter The Luxe Lounge entryway and cant help but smile at the music already bumping from upstairs. Jungkook must already be working on the track for tonight. No doubt Hoseok is next to him helping him pick out good dance music.

You take the narrow hallway beside the stairs where the staff lounge is and punch in the code on the keypad.

Seokjin was nice enough to give everyone full-sized lockers so you cram most of your stuff in there, spinning the lock before grabbing your change of clothes and heading to the staff bathrooms which just so happen to be next to the coatroom.

Doors don’t officially open until six and you snicker when you imagine Jimin standing out in the cold probably flirting with every man or woman that he sees.

That man was such a shameless flirt you wondered how in the hell he didn’t have a date yet.

Just as you passed the coat room someone cleared their throat and you stopped in your tracks because Holy shit.

If this was the man Jimin was talking about

He was gorgeous.

He was tall with dark fluffy hair that fell into his eyes and miles of tanned skin. His chest was wide, stretched by a plain black tee shirt but his hands and fingers were delicate, almost looked like he could be a piano player with those long delicate fingers.

His lips parted into a smile when he saw you and your heart lept in your chest.

Holy shit.

“Hi um, we’re not actually open until six…I think.” He says in a low voice that sends a shiver up your spine.

“Oh uh, yeah I work here. I just came from my other job so I have to change.” You stammer as his dark eyes widen and he flushes a pretty rose colour.

“Oh, I’m so sorry tonight is my first night and I haven’t met everyone yet. I’m so sorry wow that’s embarrassing.” He stammers and you walk over to him and smile.

“It’s okay the staff rotates a lot so you will be meeting people for weeks.” You encourage as you introduce yourself holding out a hand for him to shake.

“I’m Taehyung.” He says as his hand takes yours and you look down to see how his large palm and long fingers engulf your hand. Something about that is so sexy you feel beads of sweat start to form on your forehead.

“Well, Taehyung welcome to the craziest night of the year. Are you ready?” You tease as you switch your bag to the other arm.

“Yeah, I mean. Seokjin explained it to me and I had training yesterday. Coat room can’t be that hard right?” He asks voice full of worry.

“Nah not usually. New Year’s Eve though. You're going to be busy.” You warn him.

His tongue darts out to lick at his lips nervously and you can’t help but feel intrigued by him.

He was no doubt gorgeous, but also his shyness and nervousness were cute. Someone tonight was going to try to make him their New Year’s kiss, you were sure of it.

“I bartend here. Usually try not to during holidays because it’s always insane but the money is good so why the heck not? It’s only one night.” You say softly as you stare into his dark eyes.

“Yeah, that’s how I feel. Seokjin didn’t want to throw me in on tonight of all nights but I figured why not. I have nothing else going on.” He says tapping his fingers on the counter.

“Nothing else going on? You don’t have anyone at home waiting for you?” You ask as he blushes and your stomach swoops with how forward you are being.

“I’m sorry it’s not my business I shouldn’t have asked.” You apologize as his face breaks into a soft smile.

“Nah it’s okay. We’re going to be working together we should get to know each other. No, I live alone. No girlfriend no boyfriend. Just me and my dog.” He says shrugging.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll have tons of people lining up for you tonight.” You encourage as his eyes widen.

“You think so?” He asks, voice dipping lower and a teasing look in his eye.

“I mean yeah. You are gorgeous and everyone gets drunk and horny on New Year’s Eve. I’ve worked it enough to know.” You say not sure why you are so bold with him as you only just met. However, something about him just drags you in and you never want to leave his captivating gaze.

“You think I’m gorgeous huh?” He teases with a lift of his eyebrow.

So he was a master flirt like Jimin.

Of course, he was

“Yes, but I think you also know you're gorgeous. And it’s not just me. Other people have noticed Taehyung.” You say flirting back and resting your forearms on the counter getting closer to him and inhaling his scent.

“Hmm and who would that be who is also noticing? Jimin by chance?” He coos with a wink.

“He’s not very subtle huh?” You comment as Taehyung lets out a small giggle and also props his arms on the counter bringing his handsome face closer to you.

“Are you friends with Jimin?” He asks biting at his lower lip.

You nod.

“And let me guess. He put you up to this to see if I’m interested?” He asks as you feel yourself lean in even closer, taking in the small beauty marks on his handsome face.

“Can’t tell. Scouts honor you know.” You whisper as the tension around you crackles.

Taehyung lets out a soft laugh and your eyes are instantly drawn to his pink lips.

“Well, you can tell Jimin I think he is hot. Like really hot. And just for future reference, I think you are super hot too.” He says with a wink which has you flustered in more ways than one.

Your body feels on fire and your cheeks are stained red. The way this man can switch from innocent and cute to downright smouldering sexy makes your head spin.

“Though I think I’ve held you up enough. Don’t want Seokjin breathing down your neck because you're late for your shift.” He says voice low and dangerous as you swallow hard.

“Go get changed. I’m sure we will see each other again.” He says dismissing anything you had to say as he shoots you another wink and pushes himself back from the counter, grinning when he sees how flustered you are before turning around and unboxing more hangers.

By the time you are changed and behind the bar with Yoongi you feel a little less affected by Taehyungs charms.

But only a little bit.

The second you locked yourself in the stall you got out your phone and texted Jimin in all capitals about what happened.

Your fingers were flying over the keyboard and the message was littered with spelling mistakes but you knew Jimin would know what you meant as you hit send and quickly got dressed in black jeans and a forest green body suit.

You hurried to put on your gold jewelry and do something with your hair and when you exited the bathroom Taehyung was nowhere to be found and you had to admit you were slightly disappointed.

Yoongi gave you a small smile when you got behind the bar with him and when the doors opened at six you didn’t have time to think about Taehyung as you were too busy serving drinks left and right.

Yoongi was a good companion behind the bar because he was a hard worker and because you had worked with him for so long you both got into a groove, weaving behind each other with ease, passing each other bottles before the other asked for it.

You both worked as a well-oiled machine.

By Nine you were coated in a thin layer of sweat and the dance floor was packed.

Bodies were all pushed together as people danced and sang and ground on each other.

You grinned when you saw Hoseok take to the dance floor and Jungkook jumping wildly behind his DJ setup.

You passed Yoongi the vodka bottle and he shot you a grateful smile as the girl he was serving was giving him the most shameless “Please fuck me eyes.”

You snickered when she began to suck on her straw like it was a cock and Yoongi moved behind you with grace and hissed “Don’t say a word.” In your ear.

You snicker but continue to pour drinks as it seems like most girls have their eyes on Yoongi tonight.

One guy slithers up to the bar smelling of cheap cigarettes and the way he stares at you makes your skin crawl.

Normally Yoongi would take these customers but he was over his head with a group of girls all in bedazzled tops so you took him instead.

“What can I get for you?” You asked throwing the bar towel over your shoulder and trying to breathe through your mouth at his stench.

“Are you on the menu?” The stranger cackled causing you to force a tight smile on your face.

“No sir unfortunately I’m not. But we have a wide selection here so what can I get for you.” You say trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice as he leans against the counter.

“Well, that’s a shame. Though I do like the sir thing.” He says with a teasing wink that has your skin prickling and before you know it Yoongi is at your side snarling at the man.

“Sir It’s New Year’s Eve. We are swamped and she clearly isn’t interested in you. Order something or move on.” He barks at the man who frowns and orders a beer.

Yoongi serves it to him and before you can blink he disappears into the crowd.

“Thanks.” You say to Yoongi who gives you a curt nod before going back to his side of the bar and taking orders.

By eleven you are sweaty and sore. You see Namjoon making his way across the floor and you grin to yourself when you realize that your relief person would be coming soon as well.

Kiri comes behind the bar and wraps you in a warm hug dousing you in her strong perfume as you struggle to pull away from her, not wanting her to be covered in your sweat.

“I’ll take over enjoy your New Year’s Eve girl!” She calls over the music taking out a new bar towel and taking over your position with ease.

You nod to Yoongi who nods back a silent Happy New Year as you exit through the side of the bar and navigate the dance floor hoping to make it back to the Staff room to at least freshen up before you meet Jimin.

Making it across the dance floor was near impossible and the stairs were even worse as there was a line up to get up into the loft area where the dance floor was.

You scramble around people, trying to shove your way down the stairs and not take anyone out but the crowd is so thick it feels like it takes you forever just to get down the twelve steps.

You make it to the staff room and just as you are fixing your hair the door opens and Jimin walks in, hair still perfectly slicked back and cheeks pink with cold.

“How did it go?” He asks as he takes the locker next to you and shucks off his coat revealing a skin-tight black top that is slightly sheer so you can see his chest and abs.

“Very tiring. I mean the tips were great but I don’t want to talk to another human for at least a week.” You groan as you finally get your hair looking back to normal and you plop down in one of the chairs and let out a long sigh.

“Even if the human is me?” He teases as he follows suit and plops down beside you.

“Oh well, you’re the exception Jimin.” You say smiling at him.

“What about Taehyung? Is he the exception too?” Jimin says, voice low with a teasing smile on his lips.

You shift in your seat.

“I mean…he’s. Honestly, I don’t even know how to describe him.” You breathe out as your earlier interaction with him flashes in your mind.

“Oh, I know. He got you good, didn’t he? I had to read your text several times just to know what you were saying.” Jimin jokes as you shove his arm and overhead you hear people yelling in glee.

Jugkook must have turned on a popular song to get the crowd hyped.

“I was rushing because he held me up. And I was going to be late.” You argue back crossing your arms as Jimin cackles beside you.

“Admit it you were all flustered because he is hot.” He teases you nudging your arm.

“Hey, you’re in the same boat as me here!” You shoot back.

“Yes, but I’m not trying to hide it. He’s hot. I want him. I’m very open about my feelings.” Jimin says eyes dancing in the low lights of the staff room.

“Well, you saw him first so you can have him. You called dibs.” You say feeling slightly defeated.

“You want him too?” He questions.

“Yes didn’t you read my text? I said he was hot as fuck.”

Jimin laughs.

“All I saw were spelling mistakes.” He goads.

“Again I was in a rush!” You defend yourself but Jimin knows how to get under your skin and he just sits there and giggles.

His giggles go silent as one of your coworkers walks in. She quickly grabs her stuff and waves to you both before leaving. You know she has a boyfriend back home and is probably going to try to get to him before midnight.

“I don’t mind sharing you know,” Jimin says when the room falls silent again and your head whips around to stare at him, expecting to see a smile on his face but he looks dead serious.

“Jimin, you’re my friend, I adore you, I do, but I don’t want you sloppy seconds. Even if they are as sexy as Taehyung.” You explain.

“It doesn’t have to be sloppy seconds you know?” Jimin starts and you stare at him in disbelief.

“Were you secretly getting drinks when you were standing out there? How drunk are you?” You ask as you feel heat rise to your cheeks and you stand up feeling the need to pace the floor.

“Sober as fuck. But also horny as fuck. Come on we have been friends for the last five years. We both think he’s sexy. If I read your texts right he thinks we both are sexy. We could just….share?” Jimin suggests with an eyebrow raised.

“You want to share Taehyung? At the same time?” You ask as you stand in front of him, hands on the back of your chair to hold yourself steady.

Jimin shrugs as if it is not a big deal.

You take a second to think of it. You had sex with guys, sure. You just never had a threesome before. Especially with a friend you had known for so long. The whole thing was wildly erotic but also made you nervous.

“It wouldn’t be…weird? I don’t want to lose you Jimin.” You say in a small voice as your eyes meet his.

“You wouldn’t. It would be a night of fun. Both of us feasting on the same gorgeous man. We can do sexual things to him. We don’t have to do it to each other.” Jimin comforts as you see his hand disappear from the table and onto his lap.

“Are you? Are you hard because of this conversation?” You blurt out unable to stop yourself as Jimin chuckles.

“I can’t help it. The thought of you sucking his cock is making me hard. Fuck I don’t know what I want more. My lips on his cock or yours.” He admits now palming himself through his tight pants.

You had to admit Jimin’s lips were something you were always jealous of. They were so much more plump and fuller than yours and picturing them stretched around a cock was giving all sorts of feelings and making wetness coat your underwear.

“Okay fuck it let’s do this.” You say before you lose your nerve and Jimin stands up and adjusts his cock before smiling at you.

“That’s my girl. Now come on let’s go get our man.” He says looping an arm around you and dragging you out of the Staff Room.

After hitting up the bar and getting Yoongi to make you a strong drink you and Jimin lean on the bar and your eyes scan the crowd.

It doesn’t take long for you to find Taehyung and you nudge Jimin when you do.

His fluffy hair is matted to his face and he is surrounded by women. At least three girls are trying to grind on his cock all at once and his lips are curled into a sultry smirk as he laps up all the attention he is receiving.

You see his hands make their way onto a pretty blonde-haired girl’s waist and she throws her head back against his shoulder as he grinds his cock into her backside.

“Is it possible he somehow got hotter? Because Holy fuck.” Jimin hisses in your ear as your breath catches in your throat when his fingers push her hair to to side and he presses a hot open-mouthed kiss to her skin.

You stand there and feel your body burn up. It should be you he has his hands on, it should be your skin he’s kissing and jealousy rises in your body as you down some of your drink.

“Let him do this. The more he teases and flirts the more punishments he will receive once we get our hands on him.” Jimin growls low as he takes a swig of his drink and you stare up at him.

In the lights of the club, his eyes look darker, almost predatory as they are focused on only Taehyung. He holds his head high as if he is unbothered by the whole thing and you can’t help but shiver when his gaze snaps to yours.

“You’re a Dom?” You ask as your eyes flit back to Taehyung who is still living it up on the dance floor.

Jimin snickers.

“For him? I’m whatever he wants me to be. He’s that fucking hot.” Jimin mutters as he brings the drink to his lips.

You nearly choke on your drink when dark eyes from across the dancefloor lock onto yours as Taehyung has finally spotted the two of you staring him down like hungry animals.

He doesn’t seem intimidated, nor does he stop the act.

Instead, he winks at you and doubles down on his efforts. Letting the blonde girl and her friend grind against him. They push their asses into his crotch and he holds them both steady as the music thumps loudly.

“Our boy is such a slut.” Jimin muses in your ear as you finish the rest of your drink and throw the cup out in the nearby garbage.

You can’t tear your eyes away from Taehyung as he sways to the music, throws his head back to sing and has women swarming towards him in droves as he gives them all just enough attention to keep them hooked.

“He’s loving this.” You admit as you feel arousal pool in your panties. It is hot to see him like this, licking his lips, touching women lightly, whispering in their ears things you could only wish he would say to you.

Jimin finishes his drink and runs his hand through his hair as Taehyung makes eye contact with you both again.

His mouth is curled into a dangerous grin that almost begs you to go over and claim him and it seems Jimin’s patience has run out as he grabs your arm and drags you through the crowd as Taehyung gets a little too handsy with one of his admirers.

You push through the crowd and by the time you make it to Taehyung, you are sweating. The music is too loud, everyone’s bodies are everywhere and you are so close to Taehyung it makes your head spin.

You stand behind Jimin as he leans down and whispers something to Taehyung who grins and apologizes to the girls saying he had to go.

Most of the girls look crestfallen as Jimin grabs his hand and drags you both through the crowd to the far end of the floor where the lights don’t reach and is a lot quieter.

“Fucking finally,” Taehyung complains as Jimin grabs him harshly and pushes him so his ass is flush against Jimin’s crotch.

You stand there mesmerized as Jimin holds Taehyung’s hips harshly and begins to grind into him at the beat of the music.

“Took you long enough,” Taehyung complains as Jimin chuckles darkly in his ear and you stand there frozen watching the whole thing go down.

“We thought you liked the attention Tae. Liked all those strangers touching you. Trying to claim you.” Jimin growls as you watch his hands travel up and down Tae’s sides as he grinds his hard cock into his backside with ease.

Taehyung’s eyes flutter closed and he throws his head back against Jimin’s shoulder exposing his long neck and sharp jaw.

“W-Wanted it to be you.” He admits as Jimin’s eyes find yours and with a curt head nod you press your backside into Tae’s front as his eyes snap open and his long fingers grab for your hips as he presses his hard cock into your ass.

You moan when you feel how big he is against you.

His fingers hook into your belt loops as he tugs you closer so your ass is fully pressed into his cock and when he grinds into you with enthusiasm you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips.

“Did grinding on all those people make your cock hard Tae. Or was it us watching you that made you so fucking erect.” Jimin growls as Tae grinds himself harder into you and his hands are holding your hips so hard you wonder if there will be bruises tomorrow.

“Y-You watching me. I wanted you to see. Wanted you to want me.” He admits as Jimin presses a kiss to his neck which makes Tae moan and grind himself into you.

“You want us don’t you Tae? You want two lovers tonight instead of one. Such a greedy boy.” Jimin growls as you whine at his words and grind your ass harder against Taehyung desperate to feel his big cock.

“Yes God fuck please.” he cries out as Jimin snickers and pulls away nearly making Taehyung topple over.

The music stops and everyone turns to look at the DJ booth as it shows there is only one minute until midnight.

“Well I wanted to make you cum as we rang in The New Year but you decided to play slut and we ran out of time.” Jimin clicks his tongue in disappointment.

“Please I’m so fucking hard. I’ll be good. Just make me cum.” Taehyung wails as the countdown to midnight begins.

“I’m thinking we ring in The New Year then we get the fuck out of here. My place is closest.” Jimin offers as he looks at you and you nod.

Taehyung nods as well as the whole room counts down from five, anticipation and excitement palatable in the air as the clock strikes twelve and it is officially a new year.

Jimin grabs Taehyung and pulls him in for a bruising kiss as you watch their hands tangled in each other’s hair.

Jimin pulls away before Taehyung gets to fully experience it and when Tae juts out his lower lip in a pout Jimin laughs.

“Come on let’s get out of here.” He demands as the three of you head for the stairs and grab your things.

Cabs are waiting outside so you are lucky to snag one before the crowds get to them and you all squeeze in the back as Jimin gives the driver instructions.

The car ride is quiet as you are squeezed between both men, their knees are hitting yours and you can’t help but feel wetness coat your core as you sit between them.

Jimin taking control and whispering filth in Taehyung’s ear makes you clench your thighs together as the sexual tension in the cab feels suffocating.

A hand reaches down to your knee and you nearly jump when you see it is Taehyung’s hand.

Your eyes snap to his but he isn’t looking at you, instead he’s staring at Jimin with a questioning look.

Jimin gives him a small nod and soon his long fingers climb higher up your leg and you are trying not to moan when they make their way to the seam of your jeans.

You open your legs slightly and Taehyung snickers when his thumb presses into your core through your jeans, rubbing against your clit on the first try.

The image of his delicate fingers rubbing you through your jeans is erotic and you can’t help but grind yourself down on him as your pussy throbs.

You feel shuffling beside you and you look down in time to see Jimin openly palming at his hard cock. He’s not subtle about it as he palms the head through the tight material of his pants and his eyes are zoned into where Taehyung is rubbing you through your jeans.

It seems Taehyung is bold enough to take it further as his lips attach to your neck and he begins to rub you with more vigor as he presses hot wet kisses to your skin.

You throw your head on Jimin’s shoulder to give Tae more access as his thumb continues to rub circles on your clit making you wet and needy.

His lips are warm against your skin and when you turn to see Jimin palming himself even harder at the sight you can’t help the small moan that falls from your lips.

“Enough.” Jimin hisses as Tae withdraws his hand and you nearly cry at the loss of contact. Your pussy throbs painfully as the car slows and you are in front of Jimins house.

Taehyung gets out first and you follow suit, wincing when you feel your panties sticking to your core.

You stand in the cold as Jimin pays the driver and Tae throws his arm around your shoulder as you lean into him to stay warm.

Once the cab is paid you follow Jimin up the driveway to his modest two-story home. Taehyung still has his arm around you as Jimin unlocks the door and when you step inside you are met with light-coloured walls and modern furniture as Jimin moves around flicking on lights and the faint boom of fireworks can be heard as people ring in The New Year.

“Jimin your place is so nice!” Taehyung comments as you toe off your shoes and coat Taehyung follows your lead. Jimin smiles and gestures for you both to join him on the couch and you tuck your knees under you as you sit between the two men.

“So should we go over things before we get started?” Jimin asks, dropping his dominating tone completely and instead opting for a softer voice.

“What is there to go over? I want you both. Clearly.” Tae says as he gestures to his cock which is stretching the fabric of his jeans in a way that makes your mouth water.

“I know I took the dom roll back there but I wanted to make sure you both were okay with that,” Jimin says nervously running a hand through his hair as Tae nods enthusiastically.

“Just tell us what to do Jimin.” You speak up as Taehyung nods again clearly into being dominated and Jimin chuckles.

“Okay let’s head to the bedroom then, I have everything I need in there,” he says standing up as you and Tae follow suit and he leads you up the stairs.

“Fucking finally I think my cock is going to rip these jeans if I keep them on any longer,” Tae grumbles as you giggle and make it to Jimin’s bedroom.

It’s a simple room with light walls and a king-sized bed and when you both make it over the threshold Jimin stares at Taehyung with his arms crossed.

“Tae you kneel on the floor like a good boy while we get things set up. Keep your head down. And unbutton your jeans. Don’t take them off just unbutton them. I don’t want your cock hurting because of those tight-ass jeans before I can get my mouth on it. Or her mouth on it.” Jimin says nodding to you as Taehyung drops onto the small decorative carpet on the floor and his nimble fingers pop the button of his jeans leaving room for his cock to expand and he sighs out in relief.

“We are going to grab some things in the other room and you be a good boy and kneel here until we get back,” Jimin demands as he gives Tae’s cheek a playful smack and drags you from the room to the spare bedroom.

“We’re just going to leave him there?” You hiss as Jimin closes the door to the spare room and starts to go through the closet reaching for a basket at the top causing his shirt to slide up and show off his back tattoo.

“Yes for two reasons,” Jimin explains as his fingers curl around the basket and he takes it down and places it on the bed.

“Number one. I said in the club we were going to punish him for acting like a slut. This is part of his punishment. This is too.” Jimin said as he opened the lid to the basket and you gasped when you saw what was inside.

A huge variety of sex toys and objects. Vibrators, cock rings, handcuffs, leather riding crops. Jimin pokes around until he pulls out a small black vibrator, lube and a long silk scarf.

“Holy fuck Jimin.” You breathe out as he snickers at you.

“We’re going to show him how to be a good boy and not be a little slut.” Jimin confirms as he puts the lid back on the box but doesn’t bother putting it back in the closet.

“Reason number two is I want to make sure you are okay with this. I know I’m taking over the scene so I wanted to check in first. Anything you like? Or want?” He asks as you stand there and contemplate.

“I want to suck his dick for sure. He looks so fucking big. Did you see the way it stretched his jeans? Other than that I’m good to just see how it plays out.” You admit.

“Want him to fuck you? By the time I’m done with him, I think I could make him do whatever I wanted.” Jimin asks as his eyes flick down to the toys he chose and a sinister smile tugs at his lips.

“Yes please.” You nearly moan.

Jimin lets out a soft laugh.

“I gotta say Jimin. You’re a hot as hell dom.” You complement as he makes his way to the door and throws it open.

“Oh, pretty girl you haven’t seen anything yet.” He teases you with a wink as you follow him back to the room where Taehyung is.

Taehyung is still kneeling on the floor with his head down and his fluffy hair falling into his eyes. His pants are unbuttoned and you can see the band of his underwear and the hard swell of his cock as he stays in position on the floor.

“What a good boy you are Tae.” Jimin complements as Tae’s mouth stretches into a smile.

Jimin makes his way to the side table to deposit his toys for Taehyung as you stand over him and stare down at him.

“Stand up. Strip off all your clothes except your underwear and lay on the bed.” Jimin demands as Tae scrambles to follow his instructions.

He stands on shaky legs quickly shucks his pants down his legs and kicks them off somewhere in the room. His shirt goes next exposing his broad chest and lean torso.

Before he can get on the bed Jimin clicks his tongue and Taehyung freezes, eyes snapping to Jimin.

“Good boys don’t just throw their clothes around now do they Taetae?” He coos as Taehyung drops his head in shame and walks around the room gathering his things and folding them nicely.

Once that is done he scrambles on the bed and pushes himself back until he is resting against the headboard and staring at Jimin awaiting instruction.

“Fuck such a good boy for us,” Jimin mutters as he brings a finger out to trace Taehyung’s tanned skin.

He arches up into Jimins touch and you can’t help but walk over to get a closer look.

“Tae I have to be honest with you, you look delectable. So delectable I think I’m going to let her suck your dick for being such a good boy for us.” Jimin says as his eyes meet yours and you nod slowly.

Before you can climb onto the bed Jimin demands Taehyung raise his arms and you see the silk scarf in his hand as Tae’s eyes widen and Jimin grabs both his wrists and ties him to one of the bed posts.

“Comfy?” He asks Taehyung as you look down to see his eyes blown out wide with lust and his tongue darting out to lick at his lips.

“Yes. Very much yes. Fuck this is so hot.” Tae whines as you giggle when you see his cock twitch in his underwear.

“We’re going to use a colour system tonight. Green means good. Yellow means slow. Red means Stop. Got it?” Jimin says as you both nod and Jimin’s plush lips curl into a smirk as he presses something into your hand out of sight from Tae’s lust-blown eyes.

The cock ring is now in your hand and when you look at Jimin he gives you a nod and you know exactly what he wants you to do.

You climb up on the bed keeping it hidden by placing it on the bed by your knee as you lean down and begin to pepper kisses along Taehyung’s heated skin.

His body arches up into your lips and he lets out sinful moans as you take your time kissing down his body licking and sucking at his skin.

With his hands tied up, he has no choice but to take it as Jimin pulls a chair up by the bed and quickly takes his restrictive pants off and sits down opening his legs wide and palming at his cock.

Taehyung doesn’t know where to look as his gaze bounces between you on top of him getting closer to his cock with each passing minute or Jimin’s hands grabbing at his cock and stroking it.

You can feel Taehyung’s attention slipping so you decided to boldly suck his cock through the material of his underwear Taehyung lets out a broken moan and throws his head back as you suckle at the head and lick along the shaft.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He chants almost in prayer as you hook your fingers into the band of his underwear and pull them down.

He lifts his hips to help you and when you finally get them off his hard cock smacks against his toned stomach.

He is big. Bigger than you have ever taken and your mouth waters and your pussy throbs when you take in his length and girth. The head of his cock is an angry red colour and beads of precum ooze out from the slit.

You lean down and grab his cock before suckling on the head causing a broken moan to slip from Tae’s mouth and Jimin to chuckle darkly beside you.

You suck him down hallowing out your cheeks and stroking him in tandem. Saliva pools in your mouth making everything wet and the glide feels amazing as you bob your head taking him further each time.

Your other hand comes down to fondle his balls which feel so enlarged you can’t help but whine against his shaft when you get your hands on them.

You begin to work him harder and faster, feeling drunk on not only the alcohol but the feeling of finally having this thick cock in your mouth and you almost miss the warning noise Jimin makes in the back of his throat as your eyes snap up to Taehyung and you can’t help but grin around his cock when you see how gone he is.

His head is thrown back against the pillows and his whole body is taught, fighting the urge not to cum too quickly. It should be a crime to be as good at blowjobs as you were and Taehyung was fighting for his fucking life.

You grab the cock ring and attach it to his cock as you pop your mouth off of him Taehyung’s eyes snap open and he looks down to see the black cock ring fit snugly around his base forcing him to stay hard but not be able to cum.

“Holy fuck you have got to be joking.” He breathes out as a sheen of sweat covers his body and he lets out shaky breaths.

You smile down at him before hopping off the bed and wiping your lips with the back of your hand.

“You think we were going to just let you cum after the stunt you pulled? Letting all those strangers feel you up in the club. Flirting with us. Teasing us. Please.” Jimin scoffs as he comes around the bed to sit at the end of it between Taehyung’s legs.

His thighs twitch with anticipation and he feels his cock twitch painfully as the ring holds him erect.

“Now here is what is going to happen. She is going to sit on your face and you are going to eat her pussy. Meanwhile, I’m going to fuck you open on my fingers got it?” Jimin demands.

You can’t help but shiver as you strip down and feel two sets of eyes on your body.

Taehyung moans when you unhook your bra and your tits pop out and when you shimmy out of your jeans and underwear he straight up whines at the sight of your naked body in the low light.

“Damn, you’re fucking hot.” Jimin comments with a wink as you playfully roll your eyes at him and settle yourself on the bed hovering your pussy over Taehyung’s pretty pink lips.

“Please.” he croaks out as you lower yourself down and Tae wastes no time in burying his face in your folds. You grip the headboard and cry out as he works you expertly with his tongue. Lapping at your arousal and nuzzling his nose against your clit.

It takes everything in Jimin to pull himself away from the sight of you sitting on Taehyung’s face and his cock throbs when he can hear the wet noises of your arousal mixed with Tae’s tongue lapping it up.

Jimin squeezes the base of his cock and gets to work lubing up his fingers.

He also makes sure to grab the small black vibrator as he has plans for that too.

Jimin’s finger prods Tae’s entrance and Tae jolts on the bed causing his mouth to bury even deeper into your folds.

Taehyung doesn’t know what to do. He feels like his brain is mush as he can’t deal with all the sensations in his body. There’s you with your perfect pussy which he is happily lapping up. The way you taste is so addicting he can’t help but grind his nose into your clit as his tongue dances along your folds.

Then there’s Jimin who has a finger buried in his ass and is slowly pushing it in and out. Taehyung is fighting the urge to grind down on that finger and his cock is fighting against the cockring as it twitches pathetically on his stomach leaking precum everywhere.

“Fuck Tae you feel so good.” You whine out as his mouth latches onto your clit and he sucks it harshly making the coil of pressure in your stomach wind tighter as you grind yourself down on his tongue.

You look down to see his eyes clouded with lust and when you look over your shoulder to check on Jimin you see he has two fingers buried in Tae.

Holy fuck.

Your pussy throbs on Taehyung’s tongue and you bury your face in your arms as you let out a warning moan that you are getting close.

You tried to stave off your orgasm as much as you could because Tae’s tongue just felt too good but your orgasm was creeping up on you like a speeding train.

“Cum on his tongue,” Jimin demands as you throw your head back and feel your orgasm wash over you. Your thighs clamp around his head and you let out a broken whine as you cum hard. Taehyung laps up everything you give him as he works you through your orgasm feeling high from the taste of you on his tongue and cheeks.

Once you come down from your high you slowly sit up and throw your leg over so you are sitting on the bed next to him breathing heavily.

Taehyung loves how you look right now, cheeks and chest flushed, eyes blown wide, if he could taste you for eternity he could.

“Fuck that was so good holy shit.” You breathe out unable to stop yourself from looking down to where Jimin is still working Taehyung open with his fingers.

“M-More” Taehyung croaks when Jimin curls his fingers and nudges his prostate making Taehyung throw his head back.

“More pussy? Or fingers?” Jimin teases as Taehyung’s cock twitches against his stomach and the amount of precum that is smeared on his skin is obscene.

“M-More whatever I just need- please fuck feels so good. ‘m so hard.” Tae cries out as you take a look at his cock which is an angry red colour and shiny with precum.

“How are your hands? You have been tied up for a while?” Jimin asks calmly as he adds a third finger and curls it just right to make Taehyung see stars.

“I fuck I don’t know I can’t concentrate when you do that.” Taehyung moans as Jimin’s fingers leave him and he cries at the loss of sensation.

Jimin slowly leans down and begins to kiss Taehyungs thighs, his eyes sharp and dangerous as they stare at Tae unblinking.

You curl into Tae’s side resting your head against his chest where his heart is beating at an alarming rate as Jimin continues to kiss his skin, teasing him to the point where Taehyung is close to begging.

He doesn’t have to though because soon a blunt object that is not Jimin’s fingers is pushed against his hole and when Jimin pushes it in Taehyung can’t help but arch off the bed and cry out when he feels a small vibrator being inserted.

“Holy fuck. Fuck. Shit.” Tae chants as he throws his head back and the muscles in his neck strain as he feels you laugh against his skin.

This must have been what you both went into the other room for.

Fucking shit.

“Knew our slut would like having something in his ass. And look. It vibrates too.” Jimin teases as he turns it on and keeps it pressed against Taehyung’s prostate.

Taehyung can’t breathe

He can’t focus

He can’t think

The vibrations are strong and wracking his body in convulsions as he grinds his ass down on the toy desperate for more.

His cock leaks steadily against his stomach and he cries out when Jimin slowly starts to fuck the vibrator inside him.

“I-Fuck Jimin I can’t. I’m gonna cum. Fuck it feels so good. I can’t.” Taehyung cries as tears spill from his eyes.

You look up to see Taehyung crying out in pleasure and when you circle your hand around his cock he croaks out a moan as you gather the precum and slide it down the shaft giving him the most agonizingly wonderful hand job he ever received.

“Color?” Jimin asks as his sharp eyes are once again on Taehyung.

“Green so fucking green but please I need. Something Please.” He cries out.

“We are giving you something baby. Jimin has a toy in your ass and I’m stroking your cock. Such a greedy boy.” You coo as Taehyung cries in frustration.

His cock is hard. So fucking hard and his balls are so big and heavy and all he wants to do is cum until there is nothing left inside him. Everything feels tight and sensitive and when Jimin moves the vibrator inside him again Taehyung loses it.

“Please. Please fuck me. Let me fuck her I don’t care. Jimin please I’m so sorry I let those people touch me at the club but I need you. I fucking need you both so bad I can’t. I seriously can’t. I want to cum so bad. Please.” He cries as you look down to Jimin who looks satisfied.

He stands up but leaves the vibrator pulsing in Taehyung as he rids himself of his shirt and underwear and his cock stands hard and proud against his stomach.

“You gonna be a good boy for us?” He demands giving a light smack to Taehyung’s thigh as he cries out and nods, tears falling from his eyes as he jerks on the bed from pleasure.

“Untie his arms. Don’t touch her though Tae or we will tie you right back up.” Jimin demands as you crawl on top of him and untie his arms with ease.

Taehyung lets out a sigh as the blood flow returns to his arms and he shakes them out.

“Good boy.” Jimin coos as he grabs Taehyung’s ankles and pulls him to the end of the bed.

You grab a pillow to put under Taehyungs head as he is still a crying begging mess on the bed.

“Now here is what is going to happen. I’m going to fill you up with my cock and you are going to fill her up with your cock. Cock ring stays on. You can only cum after we cum. Got it slut?” Jimin asks as he grabs two condoms from the bedside drawer and throws one to you.

You watch as Jimin lubes up his cock and rolls the condom down.

He tosses the lube to you and when you lube up Taehyung’s cock he hisses through his teeth.

“Sensitive.” He warns as you roll the condom down and add more lube.

Before you can straddle Taehyung Jimin reaches for the vibrator and pulls it out slowly making Taehyung cry out and grip the sheets harshly.

He feels like he’s going to explode, either his head or cock will but something has to give because this is too fucking hot and he feels his cock twitch.

The head of Jimin’s cock pokes at his entrance and Taehyung hisses when he breaches his rim and slides in slowly.

The fingers and vibrator helped but Taeyhung still feels tight around Jimin’s cock as you slowly begin to also slide down on him.

The feel of your wet pussy around his shaft and the feel of Jimin’s cock stretching him out is too much for Tae as a fresh stream of tears runs down his face and he can’t help but moan.

“Yellow!” Tae calls out.

All three of you stop and take a breather. You look down at Taehyung and see how truly fucked out he looks. His eyebrows are furrowed and his teeth are biting into his lips so hard you wonder if he made himself bleed.

“Speak to us Tae. What’s going on?” You say softly as his eyes open and he stares at you. His cheeks are stained with tears and you take your time wiping them away.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry!” he cries out as you press your body into his chest and wrap him in a hug letting him softly cry.

“Never apologize for saying a colour Taehyung. That’s what they are there for.” Jimin soothes as you can hear Taehyung’s erratic heartbeat in his chest.

“I want to be your good boy. Oh god.” He cries out as you press soothing kisses to his skin, soft small kisses as you don’t want to overwhelm him more.

“You are our good boy. The best boy. Now talk to us. What’s going on,” Jimin says.

Taehyung doesn’t speak at first. Instead, he takes several shaky breaths and tries his best to calm himself down.

“It’s just. Holy fuck you two are so fucking hot and I know I can’t cum because of the cock ring but I feel like my cock is going to explode.” He admits.

You sit in comfortable silence for a beat before Jimin speaks.

“Want her to take the cockring off?”

Taehying lets out a small laugh.

“If you do I’ll instantly come inside her. I’m not kidding my cock has never been so hard in my life. My balls fucking ache too.” He says

“I don’t mind you cuming inside me.” You tease as Taehyung’s eyes close and he huffs out a laugh.

“You’re trying to kill me. Both of you.” He laughs.

Jimin slowly thrusts inside Taehyung and he lets out a deep groan as Jimin takes his time and gives Tae the smallest amount of pleasure against his prostate.

“Is both of us too much? We can do one at a time?” Jimin asks as he continues to fuck into Tae lightly gauging the boys’ reactions.

“No, I can take both just g-go slow.”

You stare at Jimin who nods and you slowly fuck yourself on Taehyung as Jimin slowly fucks his cock inside at the same time.

The air is filled with the noises of grunts and moans as you work up a pace Taehyung can handle. His tears seemed to have stopped and instead, he grabs your hips and starts to fuck himself up into you with vigour.

“Oh fuck Tae!” You cry out as he grabs your hips harshly and drills his cock into you.

“Our baby boy is feeling better huh?” Jimin teases as Taehyung growls and continues to fuck into you harshly.

“I’d feel a lot better if you fucked me harder you know.” Taehyung teased back as Jimin let out a surprised laugh but did as he was told and began to fuck into Tae harder.

The sounds were wet and obscene as you let Taehyung use you as Jimin used him.

You could feel your orgasm approaching again and when you whine out Taehyung’s name he gets the hint and begins to fuck into your harder, adding a grind at the end which has the head of his cock rubbing against your g-spot in a way that makes you cry out his name.

“Cl-lose.” You warn as Jimin fucks into Tae harder wanting to cum alongside you both.

Taehyung feels his balls draw up and his cock is twitching deep inside you as your walls flutter around him, a warning of what is to come.

"Take his cock ring off,” Jimin demands as you pull yourself up to unlatch the cock ring, freeing Taehyung of his restraint.

The noise that comes out of Taehyung is wild and obscene as you push yourself back down on his cock and within one thrust you are cumming.

Taehyung’s cock twitches and his balls draw up even more. His hands are grabbing your hips with such force as he fucks into you wildly chasing the high he had been at the edge of for way too long.

Jimin is still fucking his ass, you are cuming around his cock and Taehyung loses it and cums hard inside you.

The feeling of Taehyung cumming sets Jimin off and he drills his cock inside one more time as he buries himself to the hilt and cums hard in Taehyung, crying out his name as he lets his orgasm wash over him in waves.

You slump over keeping Tae’s cock nestled inside you as you curl up against his chest and bury your face against his skin.

Jimin slowly pulls out and slumps down on the floor taking his time to come down from his high as Taehyung lays there motionless trying his best to get air back into his lungs.

He had never cum that hard in his entire life.

Jimin is the first to stand and he smiles when he sees you cuddled in Taehyung’s arms.

He makes his way over to the bathroom and takes off the condom and throws it out. He also gets a small washcloth and wets it before heading back to the room.

Taehyung had pulled out of you while he was gone and his now soft cock rested on his stomach. Taehyung’s eyes were closed and he was pressing soft kisses to your hair as Jimin approached and carefully slid the condom off.

“Sensitive,” Tae warned as Jimin threw the condom out.

He handed you the towel and you got yourself cleaned up and excused yourself to use the bathroom.

Jimin cracked open a window to get rid of the sex smell as Taehyung snuggled deeper into the covers worn out from the activities.

Once you make it back Jimin throws both you and Taehyung clothes to wear.

“Sleep here tonight. It’s late.” He says as you both take the clothes and slowly get dressed.

Taehyung helps Jimin get the bed set up as you clean up the room and once you three are snuggled under the covers with Taehyung in the middle he rests his head on Jimin’s shoulder and mutters out a thank you.

Jimin pets his soft fluffy hair and thanks him back

You however don’t hear any of this as you are already asleep, face pressed into Taehyungs shoulder.

Tag List

@kingofbodyrolls

#kim taehyung #park jimin #bts #bts smut #bts fic #taehyung/reader #jimin/reader #taehyung smut #jimin smut #bangtan

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cognitiveoverload · 1 day ago

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Promises (future Aaron Hotchner x reader)

summary: A new prosecutor takes over the case where you're a witness, and he assures you things will be just fine.

tags: the case is a murder case with a hint of something else involving the reader, fem!reader, prosecutor!Hotch

note: This is a pilot, prologue, call it whatever you want. If there will be future chapters, it will take place in 1996 or 1997, when she's a homicide detective.

(1991)

Two years of preparation is now going down the drain, because the original prosecutor had a heart attack, so the case is being taken over by some guy called Aaron Hotchner. Great. Excellent. He’s young, mid-twenties, probably doesn’t even have enough experience to handle such a case, but it’s not like you have a choice if you want to get this over with finally. Hopefully, he won’t die or be taken off the case too.

Your parents were murdered when you were barely sixteen, and in the two years leading up to this day, you did your best to move on, building a life of your own without them. By now you were sure the trial would be the last time you have to recall the details of what happened, what those who killed your parents did to you, but now it seems like you have to talk about it a lot more to help the new prosecutor.

“I know it’s hard. I read everything Morris had on your case, but we need to talk regularly so I can hear what happened from you, and I need to get you ready for the trial,” he says.

Those warm brown eyes are watching you intently, as if he was analyzing your body language to make sure he always chose the right words when talking to you. He’s really trying to help you, so you can’t be mad at him for doing his job. With a sigh, you lean back and let your arm that’s been folded over your chest fall into your lap.

“He already prepared me, I’m gonna be fine,” you tell him, hoping he would get the hint that you don’t want that.

“I’m aware of that, but I need to get to know you better. I need to know what I can expect from you, so please, just trust me on this one. I know what happened to you, I know it must be hard to talk about those things again, but it’s necessary,” he explains kindly as he picks up a pen and focuses on that for a moment.

You take a deep breath as you lean back in the chair. “I won’t have to see Blake until the trial, right?” Seeing that son of a bitch is the last thing you want. Hotchner notices that you’re against it, so he shakes his head, assuring you that you’ll be kept away from him. “Alright, let’s do this. But I’m going to law school, we may have trouble scheduling meetings,” you point out.

He nods. “It’s okay. We can meet in the evening if we have no other choice.”

“You know, I was already making bets with my friends about when you’ll die or hand over this case to someone else. Call me a pessimist.”

There’s a faint smile on his lips when he hears this. “I won’t let that happen. Trust me, we’ll put an end to this. That's a promise I’m gonna keep,” he tells you.

And you believe him. For the first time in two years you feel like everything would be alright in the end.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader

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minnielvrr · 3 days ago

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᧔ Lee Seungmin thoughts ᧓

Lee: Seungmin Ler: Chan, Minho

A/N: hi guys, sorry for the absence, i'll be back hopefully in about 2 weeks🥺🩷i haven't been able to even open tumblr much for the past month so i'm sorry if i missed your messages or asks😭

Tags: @itzsana-kiddingmenow, @lajanaa, @bbybumblelee, @hearted-anon, @lunalattae,

@reginald-stay09, @jungwon-is-the-one

Thinking about Seungmin's messy hair, it was easy to recall how the stylists would carefully arrange each lock into a perfectly neat hairstyle—the usual go-to for his short hair.

But of course with Seungmin being Seungmin, he just had to go around provoking everyone. So Chan and Minho; usually the more responsible ones, had taken it upon themselves to.... discipline their naughty pup.

Chan had followed him around, cornering Seungmin, just when the younger had swiftly tried to duck under his arm. And, just to rile them up, he kicked and screamed dramatically, calling for help from anyone who might listen.

But he'd received no mercy. Changbin and Jeongin, ever eager to join the chaos, jumped in to help the two oldest members pin Seungmin to the floor, Chan's fingers immediately unbuttoning his shirt to access his vulnerable belly.

It had garnered even more helpless thrashing and louder screams from poor Seungmin, who by now had finally realized what was about to befall him. The moment Chan's fingers touched his skin, the puppy yelped, giggles of anticipation bubbling up even as he tried hard to suppress them.

Then Minho struck. The devious kitten, hiding behind Chan, had gone unnoticed until his fingers began wiggling under Seungmin's knees. The sensation was torturous already, what with the puppy's knees being an especially bad spot.

"AH! Mihihihinho hyuhuhung pleheHEASE NAHAHAHAHA!!" He'd thrown his head back into Binnie's lap, shaking it side to side as Chan laughed in amusement at his reactions.

"You're so cute when you're being tickled Minnie. Have I ever mentioned that before?" He mused playfully, his own hands coming to life and tracing a feather light path from the center of Seungmin's belly to his waist.

"Yehehehes youhuhu hahahave!! Youhuhu sahay ihit eheheveryhy tihihime!! Stohohohp!! IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES!!" His pleas fell on deaf ears, as the rest of the band came over to watch, Hyunjin even recording it for later.

This was precious material to tease Seungmin with (and even better to rile him up whenever he was in a certain mood). The artist chuckled to himself, mind racing with possibilities and the promise of seeing the cute puppy blush.

Meanwhile, the man in questions was struggling, every futile attempt at escape being rewarded with more intense tickles until the poor pup accepted his fate and laid back— letting the two have their fun. The lers switched spots often, never letting Seungmin have enough time to adjust to one when they attacked another spot.

It left their sweet lee squirming on the floor, hands straining against Changbin's hold. Squealing when either one found a particularly weak spot, loud belly laughter eventually dying down to breathless giggles as the two went on and on.

"Ihihi cahahan't, plehehease ihihi cahahahahan'r anyhyhymohohore!! Hyung, hyuhung pleahease ihim sohohihrryhy!" He gasped out with the last of his voice, laughter turning silent when they kept the torture up for another long minute before letting up.

"Learnt your lesson yet?" Minho quirked an eyebrow at the lee, lips twitching in a smirk when Seungmin nodded quickly. Cute.

The puppy's face was flushed pink, eyes teary and hair ruffled beyond saving. As soon as he had recovered, the stylists were on him, debating in hushed voices whether to redo his hair completely, until one stylist chimed in, "You know, the messy hair concept actually works on him."

And that only made Seungmin's face burn brighter as his band mates cackled hysterically in the background.

"W-wait... you're not really gonna keep it like this, are you?" He asked, incredulously, gaping like a fish out of water when one of the noonas fished out a mirror from her bag and let him have a look at himself.

"…I… but… Ugh, fine." Seungmin surrendered, much to the delight of the rest. "We should definitely tickle him more at shoots. What do you think, Minnie? Sounds fun, right?" It seemed like this teasing would never end now.

But even as the pup poked Hyunjin in retaliation, he couldn't help the grudging smile that took over.

#kpop tickle #kpop tickling #stray kids tickle #skz #skz tickle #stray kids #minnielvrr™#stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #lee seungmin #ler chan #ler minho #sfw tk blog #sfw tk community #sfw twords #sfw tickling community #sfw tickle blog #sfw tk blogs

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abbysimsfun · 2 days ago

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Get to Know Me Better

Thank you so much for the tag @itmeansiris!

Last Song: "Do You Believe In Magic" by The Lovin Spoonful wakes me up most mornings and did today. It's just a bop that says 'Get up, smile or something, and dance a bit after coffee.'

Favorite Color: I don't have one! I have colours I don't like (that awful greenish-brown hair colour from Sims 3 for one and there doesn't need to be so many shades of black in my opinion), but the world is better in multicolour!

(Yes, I DO cry when I watch those 'got my dad glasses to see colour for the first time!' vids and these 60-year-old gruff men realize how beautiful colours truly are.)

Last Movie: We watched a bunch of movies over Christmas - Remember the Night, Edward Scissorhands, Wizard of Oz. Remember the Night was the only one I hadn't seen before but I love Jimmy Stewart and I'll watch him in anything - even Vertigo, despite the fact Kim Novak's acting gives me hives.

Last Book: simblr counts, so your story was the last! Yes, you reading this!) But last actual book I read was Spell Ya Later by Zoe Shae and the final draft of my own second novel (which I may never release, we shall see but releasing your own book ain't cheap) before I sent it to an editor!

Sweet, Spicy or Savory: mmmm... umami (so basically all!) but I have moods for sweet and savoury fairly often. Spicy I don't crave but I like it!

Last Thing I Googled: "Who owns Etsy?" (Black Rock and Vanguard wheee!)

Current Obsession: simblr and the story I'm playing and writing that's become very inspired by simblr!!

Looking Forward To: playing with ballerinas the next time I load up the game, hopefully!!

I tag: @hashimasims @changingplumbob @matchalovertrait @purplesimmer455 @oimygiblets @hellgirl-ix @strawberriesnpopmusic @simscici @dreamyyesenia @simmora and anyone else who wants to do this one! Ignore if you like, and if you're not tagged and want to, I'm tagging you anyway. I'm such an awkward bean about tags. 🤦

#tag game #get to know me

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elodiah · 2 days ago

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WIP Wednesday

After just over a week off writing (which I’m pretty sure is unprecedented for me, ever since I started this insanity nearly ten months ago), I’ve started easing back into it with a bit of angsty h/c, set early in Revival-verse.

Mobius hadn’t noticed him awake yet, and was tapping on his tempad with a freneticism that suggested he was playing one of his myriad games that were notable for inducing frustration, rather than doing something comparatively benign such as perusing his message inbox.

Content to watch him unawares, Loki didn’t move — which wasn’t exactly on the cards anyway — and didn’t make a sound. Swallowing against the dryness in his throat, he couldn’t suppress a tiny amused smile as Mobius failed at whatever ridiculousness he was attempting, snapping the tempad closed with a vexed flourish, and sighing with overstated frustration. He pinched the bridge of his nose, then ran his hand down his face in a weary gesture, before finally glancing at Loki, doing an almost comical double-take.

“Oh, hey, you’re awake,” he said with pleased surprise. His voice was subdued, but his eyes perceivably lit up at seeing Loki conscious.

“Mm. Some imitation of it,” Loki mumbled, his voice raspy and feeble.

“How are you feeling? Any better?”

“Hard to say,” he murmured, a meek attempt at deflection, “How long have I been out for this time?”

Mobius glanced at the TVA-specific timepiece on Loki’s nightstand.

”Probably close to twelve hours, I’d guesstimate. A bit shorter than last time, which is hopefully a good sign.” A rising inflection carried the suggestion of an optimistic query, but not one to which an answer was expected.

As per normal, Loki gave no indication that he was scarcely feeling better than he had upon discharge from the infirmary several days ago. No one needed to know that. He’d resolved to only say something if he was feeling decidedly worse, and fortunately that hadn’t really happened… at least not convincingly enough to worry anyone.

No-pressure tagging: @kcscribbler , @lokimobius , @in-my-loki-feels , @loki-is-my-kink-awakening , @insomniaflarrow , @thosegayoldmen , @silentxsymphony , @impulsemuppet , @mirilyawrites , @andthekitchensinkao3

#lokius #loki #mobius #loki fic #loki fanfic #fic writing #wip wednesday

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storiesfromafan · 2 days ago

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When He's Gone

A/N: first night of house sitting and doggo watching, which means I could finish part two to this. But I am going to make this a 3 parter, as it just felt right to end it where i did 😅

I will also have a poll at the end of this part, feel free to vote.

Warning/s: angst, sadness, maybe you'll cry, possible spelling/grammer mistakes, briefly revised

Tag list: @charmingballoon @strayrockette

Word got back to you, a few days after that night, that Benny had taken off that night. Betty had told you over coffee how Benny had stormed back into the bar, dark mood hanging over him. She said how Johnny had been the one to approach him at the bar – chugging down a beer as Johnny reached his side.

“Ya alright kid?” Johnny asked, concern written on his face.

Finally removing the bottle from his lips, and practically slamming it on the bar, Benny looked at the wall across from him. His face set in a hard scowl. “She ended it...and I gave it to her".

Johnny – looking to Cal, who’d stepped up to Benny's other side – had a confused yet worried look upon his face. Not sure what Benny meant. “Ah, ya gave it to her?” He questioned wanting clarification.

The man at focus nodded his head. “Yeah. She wanted it to be over, so I gave it to her...told her we were over then...”

Both Johnny and Cal sighed, though they knew Benny would never lay a hand on a woman. But his current mood, and words, gave a different opinion. Placing his hand on his shoulder, Johnny stared at Benny's face. Waiting for the man to look to him. And after downing the last of his beer he finally looked to the older Vandal.

“What happened?” Johnny asked calmly, needing the whole story.

So Benny told him what happened. How you took off out of the bar, how he followed you and called out what was wrong. You declaring you were done. Standing in the middle of the road airing out your issues at the hand of the women hanging around the bar, and him. He told you everything you’d said or done wrong, yet never mentioned or admitted to his involvement. How he shut down or let that voice in his head win. Benny would never voice how he was half to blame, never taking ownership of his part that played in your breakup.

“Sounds like she had a good reason to be mad" stated Johnny, gaze hard and righteous.

Benny turned to look at the empty beer bottle, knowing the man was right, that you were right. Yet Benny couldn’t admit it. If he did, he would have to agree with a lot you said. Such as how he put the club and his bike over you. Even though he tried to keep it all balanced.

“What do you love more; her or ya bike?” The older Vandal asked.

Benny kept his gaze on the bottle, mind thinking over the question. And yet he couldn’t answer it. How could he pick which one he loved more? Both were different in their own way, but both brought him such joy and happiness. Sure, his bike couldn’t mouth off to him but would play up. While you, you were full of opinions and ideas, but also cared for him like no one else ever had.

When Cal spoke up, along with a few others, saying how stupid it was to flip out and breakup because you’d said it. How walking away from that fine ass – which was meant to be a light hearted jest – was the biggest mistake. Or how you’d find another man quick smart. It all triggered something in Benny, anger and hurt.

Without a word, he shrugged off Johnny's hand before heading for the front door. He could hear Johnny going off at the men that spoke. But Benny didn’t care. He’d gotten some harsh criticism and truths. He was done. He needed to get away, clear his head and hopefully his heart. Which was aching. Getting on his bike, Benny didn’t waste time starting up the engine and pulling away from the curb, riding through town and off into the night, and wherever the road would take him.

You sat back in your seat at the small kitchen table, lit cigarette in hand which was resting on the table top. Betty sat across from you, watching you closely to gauge your reaction to the story she just told you. Lifting your hand you took the last drag of the cigarette, holding it for as long as you could before releasing the smoke. You then stubbed it out in the ashtray.

“I see...” was all you could say.

You weren’t surprised he’d taken off. It’s what he did best. Running from his problems rather than working through them. It’s like putting a band aid on a broken arm. Him running away just showed how immature, or scared, Benny was. Eventually he’ll blow back into town and act like nothing happened. And that’s fine. He could do that. You don’t care, you won’t be sitting around waiting for him. If he will even come crawling back to you.

“Well it’s going to be quiet around Grand and Division for a while then" you stated, like it was fact.

Betty looked concerned, “you ain’t worried about him?”

You sighed. “Sure, I’ll always worry about him...but he made his choice. He gave up. And sure, I instigated the breakup...but he put the final nail in the coffin, so to say".

She nodded, moving to take another sip of her coffee.

“Once he’s mind is made up, that’s it...” you muttered. “So I won’t mope around. It’s not worth it...”

You left it at that. No more to say on the matter that is Benny Cross. That chapter of your life had come to an end. The next, new chapter was all about you and whatever you do with yourself. Time to pick yourself up and dust yourself off. But there were times you would find yourself crying, mainly at night, over him. Even though you didn’t want to, nor did he deserve your tears. During the day and around people, you put on a strong front, that you almost believed.

The first month of Benny’s absence was hard. You noted it as the withdrawal stage. Missing and wanting him because he wasn’t there. Various Vandal's came to check in on you, though you felt more like they were sniffing around. Trying to find out if Benny had reached out to you, but mainly testing the waters for themselves. See if you were desperate that you’d give them the time of day. And they were mistaken, you’d never go for another Vandal.

At the end of the first month Johnny paid you a visit. He was checking in on you, making sure you were doing alright and if you needed anything. You were nice – even if you shouldn’t be – Johnny wasn’t the one to do all this, it was Benny. You got him a beer, while you had tea, and sat at your kitchen table, which reminded you of when Betty had been there. Both of them were a like, and it warmed your broken heart.

Eventually he dropped the bomb he’d had word on Benny, he was fine and just moving around. It was a relief for you, hearing your ex was alive. The older man told you Benny would be back in time, and it would all work out. But would it? Did you want that?

“I don’t think I want it to work out...I can’t keep doing this, Johnny" you admitted looking him in the eyes. “I can’t be the back-up...”

Johnny tried to reason with you, but you’d made your mind up. Once he had finished his beer, and this conversation wasn’t going his way, he said he had to get going. Politely you walked him to the front door, even watching and waving as he rode off on his bike. That was that. You’d finally put your foot down. And Johnny knew that.

The second month since Benny left, you finally felt more yourself, freer even. You had been focusing on work at the diner. Still getting those passing through town that would flirt with you, and you’d continue to turn them down. Only this time not adding you had a boyfriend. One particular truck driver – a man a few years older than you and easy on the eyes – tried his luck, and when you just said thank you, but not interested, he noted your lack of words.

“No sorry, I got a boyfriend?” He asked, rather surprised.

You flinched, which didn’t go unnoticed. “Nope, no boyfriend...” you muttered moving around the counter.

“Huh. That’s surprisin” he stated playing with his coffee cup. “What happened? If ya don’t mind me askin'?”

Without going into detail, you gave him the summed-up version. Giving the short version hurt less, as it didn’t bring up every issue you and Benny had. And the man was nice, understanding and ended it by saying Benny hadn’t deserved you. That you would find someone to love you completely. Against your better judgement, you believed his words. Even if part of you didn’t want someone else to love you, or for yourself to love another.

Your love with Benny was one of a kind. It was good, yet bad and messy. With its ups and downs. It was wild. It was passion. It was unlike anything you’d experienced. As was Benny. You had admired him from a far, not wanting to get close or involved with him. But that man wouldn’t have that, chasing you until you gave in. And you had been so happy to. Let go and go with the flow.

Yet, it was that love that hurt when you both would fight. Or when he’d take off for weeks. Left to cry and hurt, heart aching because of how you loved that man. But was it like that for him? Hurting from how you’d both fired up and left it? Did he over think it all, and try to pinpoint where it went wrong? Probably not, that wasn’t Benny's style.

A few weeks into month three of no Benny, a few friends of yours – ones that don’t run in the Vandal circle – finally talked you into going with them to the movies. You weren’t in the mood for their girl time, as it was more superficial and of no substance, or really going out. But somehow, they talked you into it.

So Friday night, after your shift, you got home and had a shower. From there you did your hair and light make up, you had to put some effort into your appearance with these women. They were all about looks. You went with a simple (colour) swing dress, that had a rounded collar, sleeveless and a matching belt to accentuate the waist.

Sitting at your vanity you put in some earrings and then your necklace. Which you only noticed, as it lay against the fabric of your dress, was the locket that Benny had gotten you. Staring at the locket, you allowed your finger tips to graze the metal. Part of you told you to take it off, put it away and leave it in the past. Yet, you couldn’t. The locket was something special, something Benny had given you on your birthday, after you had seen it when window shopping one time. That man might have only glanced it, but remembered it completely. And you told yourself, you felt better having a part of him with you.

Not thinking about it again, you got up, put on some shoes and grabbed your bag. Once outside the door, you drove to the movie theatre. Only then were you privy to the fact this three girls movie night was actually a triple date, a blind one for you. Being left out of the loop ticked you off, and eventually you voiced that before going into the movie, when the men went to get drinks and snacks.

“Calm down (Y/N), will you!” Fussed Sally.

You huffed. “All I’m saying is that I would have liked to have known this was a triple date!”

“Honestly, if she had told you the truth, would you have came?” Questioned Ann.

You stood there for a moment silent, knowing you wouldn’t have agreed to it. “No...”

Both women shared a look. “Exactly. That’s why I didn’t tell you" Sally stated softly. “You need to go out, date even. It’s over with him, he’s gone".

You detested how they didn’t say Benny's name, never had as they didn’t like him or think him good enough for you. But also, you were glad they didn’t say it now, or else you might have gotten upset. You knew they had a point. You had to go out and live your life. You had just wanted to do it with the Vandal by your side.

The conversation died then as the men returned. Both your friends linked arms with their dates, while you chose to walk awkwardly beside the guy you were paired with. He was nice, not pushy or a jerk. He was quiet sweet. Making small talk and just being friendly in a genuine way. The movie was alright, but not something you would have seen if it wasn’t for Sally and Ann. After the movie both women and their dates left, leaving you with Andrew. He was kind enough to walk you to your car.

“I hope your night wasn’t a waste" he started, “I mean – you had a good time, even if it’s not what you expected!” He sighed flustered. “I-it’s just, I know you didn’t know about me...when I thought you did. I’m sorry you got roped into this date. But I hope it wasn’t too bad...”

For the first time in months you softly smiled, a small chuckle coming from your chest. Sure, he tripped over his words but he was sincere. Andrew was a nice, good guy. Sweet to being chatty, like friends hanging out, while your friends and their dates got cosy and kissed. He respected you, were another men wouldn’t have been.

“Thank you” you thanked softly. “Though I was blind sided, I had a good time" – Andrew visually relaxed and beamed a relieved smile – “you are a sweet man. I’m just not ready to date...I hope you understand".

He nodded slowly, a sad look shining in his eyes. “It’s alright. I do understand, though am a little sad. But I can take away that you had a good evening, at least".

You reach over and held his hand. “I did, you are a wonderful man".

Fate is a cruel mistress, always ruining your life at the worst time. And this was another one. That was the moment a roar of an approaching engine bounced along the street. And with its ever increasing volume, the familiar bike and rider came into view. Benny rode by, not seeming to notice your car or you at first. But those stormy blues finally zeroed in on you both. You could imagine what would be going through that pretty head of his. Not to mention the possible anger.

You’re not his girl anymore... came that little voice in the back of your head, you broke up...

Once Benny rode on, not even looking back or turning around, that told you everything. He was done, actually done. It was all over between you both, possibly never to get back together. That ache in your chest returned, and with it the want to cry. Quickly you said your goodbyes before getting into your car, and heading home. Not giving Andrew much room to speak before you were gone.

You felt the familiar warmth and sting to your eyes, but held them back for now. Driving towards your house you had hoped to see Benny and his bike out the front of your house, or in your drive way. But turning into the drive way there was nothing. Parking the car and turning it off, the first couple of tears escaped. Sitting in the driver seat you were frozen, sad to not see him here.

After a few minutes you managed to get out of the car, not very gracefully, and headed towards your front door. With every step a tear fell from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks. When you were finally inside, door closed and locked, you slide to a sitting position, back against the door as you freely cried. Ugly crying and barely able to breath properly. Even with the anger and the fight being justified, but you loved and missed Benny. And the hole in your chest confirmed that.

A/N: thought I'd give you all a say in how part three goes 😊

#benny cross x reader #benny cross x y/n #benny cross x you #the bikeriders x reader #austin butler x reader #benny the bikeriders #benny cross imagine

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fortytworedvines · 2 days ago

Note

And the sequel, specially for @owlsie-hoot set post 5x07

Tristan sat next to Mrs Hall on the stairs, his hand on her, protectively, as she cried out weeks of fear and hopelessness, cried tears of happiness that her boy was safe. James and Helen were behind him, all of them with a hand on the woman they loved, supporting her.

Only one person was conspicuous by their absence. Tristan turned to find his brother. And there he was standing, holding on to the bannister as though it was the only thing keeping him upright, tears in his eyes, gazing at his housekeeper.

Oh, Tristan thought as he turned back to her. Oh, I understand.

He did nothing with the knowledge for a little while. The household regained its equilibrium. Mrs Hall was no longer a shadowy, sad presence but once again the beating heart of the house. A letter arrived from Edward – he was on his way back to England. He would be convalescing in Yorkshire. Mrs Hall would be able to visit him easily. She cried again, and Tristan hugged her, and thought maybe it was time.

“I’m coming with you,” he announced cheerily, as his brother set off to tackle his list.

“What? Why?” Siegfried looked at him suspiciously.

“Got to keep my hand in, old thing. Getting rusty.”

Siegfried looked no less suspicious, but did not toss him out of the car.

Tristan took the dirtier jobs, wading through mud that, secretly, he’d missed a little when he was in Egypt.

Siegfried grew more suspicious, but Tris just smiled and got on with the job, holding his tongue until the right moment.

The moment came when they stopped for lunch. They’d taken sandwiches out with them – there was less popping back to Skeldale for meals these days, now they had to be so careful of petrol. Tris waited until Siegfried had eaten, and opened the bottle of beer that Mrs Hall had packed as a treat for them.

He cleared his throat.

“Ah – now we come to it,” Siegfried declared. “The reason that you’ve tagged along today. What is it? Money?”

“You wound me,” Tris said indignantly. “No. I wanted to talk about…” he looked around. There didn’t seem to be anything that Siegfried could throw at him aside from the beer bottle, and he wouldn’t want to waste the beer. “I wanted to talk about Mrs H.”

Siegfried’s face went carefully blank. “What about her?”

“About your feelings for her.”

“My-” Siegfried cut off and growled, a proper growl that made Tristan want to laugh.

“You care for her, a lot. I saw it, at Christmas.”

“Of course I do! She’s my housekeeper. My friend.”

The exact repeat of her words, all those months ago. Tristan smiled to himself. “I think she means more to you than that, big brother.” He glanced at Siegfried, whose jaw was working furiously. “Anything you might want to say will go no further than this car,” he promised.

“Might want to say!” Siegfried cried. “What might I want to say?!”

Tristan shrugged. “I don’t know. You tell me.” He waited, hopefully.

Siegfried turned away to glare out of the window. Eventually, he spoke. “I have no right to care for her more than I do,” he said quietly. “I-” he swallowed. Tris barely dared to breathe. “I want only good things for her. I want only her happiness. When Edward – when the ship sank. I felt her pain.” He pressed his hand to his chest and finally turned to face his brother. “She was hurting and I could do nothing, nothing for her. I love her, little brother. I’ve found love again, like you told me to all those years ago. And it’s my housekeeper. The unimpeachable woman who lives under my roof. Who has tolerated my – my -”

“Rages?” Tristan suggested, with a heart full of happiness.

Siegfried glared at him. “Rages, if you must.” He sagged. “I would so like to be the man who could make her happy.”

“You saved the fox, for her,” Tristan reminded him.

Siegfried waved a hand. “A fox. Because she was furious and despairing and so, so sad. Saving the fox was the only, tiny thing I could offer her. Scant comfort.”

“It meant the world to her.”

Siegfried sighed. “She means the world to me.”

There was a silence as they both digested those words.

“I’m going to break a confidence,” Tris said, when he’d recovered.

“Extremely dishonourable of you.”

Tristan ignored him. “I spoke with Mrs H a few months ago. When you were seeing – what was her name – Mrs Grantley.”

“We barely reached seeing,” Siegfried muttered.

“We talked about Gerald, about how she nearly left but then stayed. About the reason she made that decision.”

Tristan watched his brother, wavering between curiosity and hope and irritation that Tris was breaking a confidence.

“And what did she tell you?” Siegfried’s voice barely quivered.

Tristan took a breath. “She stayed because she loves you. And all of us. But mainly you.”

Siegfried looked away. “As a friend, perhaps.”

“She said you have her heart. She said she’d hoped that when she stayed – after Gerald – that things would change between you. But-”

Siegfried hung his head. “What in God’s name was I doing, chasing that Grantley woman?” Then he raised it again. “She – she loves me? As a – a man?”

Tristan shuddered. “God knows why, but she does. I told her she was far to good for you. But she wouldn’t be dissuaded.”

Tristan expected a glare, or a cuff, but instead he watched his brother’s face light up. He thrust the beer bottle into Tris’s hands and started the engine. “Come on, little brother. We have a list to finish. I need to get home!”

They went in the back door, as usual. “Mrs Hall!” Siegfried roared as he kicked off his boots. “Mrs Hall!”

As an overture to a pronouncement of love, it was a little odd, Tristan thought as he pulled off his own boots and lined the two pairs up neatly.

He followed his brother, who was charging through the house looking for his housekeeper. The commotion drew James from surgery and Helen down the stairs, looking put out.

“I’d just got Jimmy to sleep! What’s going on?”

“Siegfried’s looking for Mrs H,” Tris explained.

“Well, he won’t find her here. She’s gone over to the church to do the flower arranging.”

Siegfried emerged from the living room in time to hear this. “The church!” He cried. “I’ll be back later!”

They watched him run to the door, pull on his shoes and hasten off.

“What on earth?” Helen asked.

Tris chuckled. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

And they did find out, an hour or so later. In the living room, where Siegfried and Mrs Hall – Audrey he said – were smiling, sheepishly, happily, holding each other’s hands as though they never wanted to let them go.

Tristan poured them all a whisky. “To Siegfried and Audrey,” he said, raising his glass.

James and Helen echoed him, and the happy couple turned to each other with a smile and a kiss.

“Oh, no. Oh, I don’t want to see that,” Tristan said with a grimace.

“Tough,” his brother said. Then he turned to the woman in his arms. “I love you, Audrey.”

She smiled up at him. “And I love you.”

I'd love no. 1 for the drabble prompts

Have a good day (despite having to work) 😊

Urgh, work. Thanks for the prompt!

Drabble list - send me a number!

1. “I know you're hurt."

Set sometime in 5.5 or before 5.6

“I’m going to visit Miss Grantley,” Siegfried announced over breakfast. “I’m staying to lunch, no need to prepare anything for me, Mrs Hall.”

Mrs Hall nodded. “Will you be home for dinner?”

“Probably,” Siegfried said cheerfully.

Tristan watched the exchange while he munched on his toast. Siegfried was bouncy – always chirpy when there was a new lady love on the scene. Mrs Hall though – Tristan had spotted the shuttered, blank look that had flickered over her face when Siegfried said where he was going. He noted the way her lips were pressed together, just a fraction. The careful steadiness of her voice when she asked if he’d be home for dinner.

Siegfried departed, whistling.

Mrs Hall cleared the table around Tristan, shooting him an amused glance as he continued to eat as the plates disappeared.

A little while later, washed and dressed and ready for the day, Tristan looked for their housekeeper. The breakfast conversation was playing on his mind and he was tallying it with other things he’d seen and been told of over the past year. He was almost certain he’d come to the right conclusion.

She wasn’t in the house. Eventually, he found her in the yard, beating a carpet ferociously.

Her eyes darted towards him but she didn’t say anything, just continued hitting the carpet with a strength that made him wonder.

Finally, he spoke. “I know you’re hurt.”

“Hurt?” her voice was breathy. “Why should I be hurt?”

“Because of my brother, and Miss Grantley.”

She lowered the carpet beater and turned to face him, expressionless. “What your brother does is really no business of mine, Tris.”

“You care for him,” Tris said.

“Of course. I’m his housekeeper. His friend.”

“I think you care for him in more than those ways.”

Now the carpet beater fell to the floor. “What do you want me to say, Tris?” she demanded.

“The truth?” he pushed.

“That I love him? That I gave up the chance of a life, a family of my own, with a good man, because I love your brother and could never love Gerald in the way that he deserves? That seeing him go after Miss Grantley is tearing me apart? Is that what you want me to say?”

The torrent of words left her panting and Tris could see tears in her eyes. He hated himself for putting them there. What had possessed him? A desire to know that he was right?

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

His apology seemed to bring her back to herself and she stared at him, horrified. “Tris – you mustn’t – you mustn’t say anything. To anybody.” She pressed her hands to her face. “It’s…” She trailed off.

Tris fell back to the old standby. “I’ll put the kettle on, shall I?”

He made them both a cup of tea and, seated at their kitchen table, her hands around her cup, Mrs Hall seemed more herself.

“I’m sorry for putting that all on you,” she said.

“I’m sorry for asking.”

“It’s just – you’re right.” She ran a hand over her hair. “It’s – hard. I am hurting. After Gerald…” She sighed.

“What happened there?” Tris asked curiously. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to say. I heard a few things from the others.”

“I nearly left,” Mrs Hall mused. “I handed in my notice. I hurt your brother terribly and doing that hurt me too.”

“Why didn’t you?”

She sipped her tea. “Because – what I put him through, your brother, I mean, I hated doing it. I love him,” she said simply. “I love all of you. He has half my heart and you all, Skeldale, Darrowby, you have the other half.”

“Charming,” Tris muttered.

She laughed then, the first brightness he’d seen in her eyes all day. “You are an awful boy,” she said fondly. “All of you, together, and Gerald on the other side. He’s a good man, a kind man.” She sighed again. “I could have been happy with him. But he loved me, and I – I love Siegfried.”

The way his brother’s given name fell from her lips made Tristan’s hurt turn over. “I stayed because I wanted to, because giving Gerald the tiny portion of my heart I have spare would have hurt him more in the end. I stayed because I love Siegfried and being in his life in any way at all is better than nothing.”

Tristan gazed at her, wondering how much of herself she hid from all of them.

“I’m not unhappy,” she added sharply. “I love my life here, I love you all. Seeing little Jimmy grow up is a precious gift.”

“But?” he sensed it coming.

“I thought… maybe things would change. Between Siegfried and me, when I stayed.”

Tris could feel every ounce of longing from her. With a lump in his throat, he stretched his hand over the table and held it firmly. “I know it’s no consolation, Mrs H,” he said, “but he’s a mad bastard and you’re far too good for him.”

She smiled at him through watery eyes. “As I said, you’re an awful boy, Tris. And thank you. For this.” She gripped his hand. “It was good to talk about it.”

#siegfried x audrey #romance #acgas 2020 #all creatures great and small #my fic

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asteraws · 10 months ago

Text

my clown college grad project from december last year 🎪

#my art #oc #illustration #ok to elaborate a bit #its more of a circus/performing arts school but clown college is just easier and sillier to say so #i call it that #what da hell do i tag JFLDSKSFKD #im archiving a lot of stuff these days...#post uni burnout has been so real guys lol ill be taking a break from this proj but def wanna come back to it some day :3 #IN THE MEAN TIME THO... im finally cooking up another oc story omggg im saur excited abt it hopefully i can share some art of it here soon

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clarionglass · 8 months ago

Text

here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine?

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait!

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him.

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs.

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look.

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace.

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign.

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm.

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity.

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor.

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief.

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling.

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!”

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him.

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage.

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps.

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break.

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope.

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still.

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall.

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed.

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw.

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

#game master #sam reich!master #doctor who #dw #dropout #game changer #you know what let's chuck some character tags in here #15th doctor #the master #sam reich #brennan lee mulligan #grant o'brien #kaylin mahoney #clari speaks #clari writes #ah darlings i'm putting my chat down here rather than in the post body for once #so i've thought of this whole saga as 'part three' but i will be a) titling them all and b) just keeping on numbering the parts sequentiall #rather than 'part three part one' etc #otherwise we're getting into homestuck act titling territory and that is ground i do not wish to tread #also fuck i hope i've got the time zones right #i'm planning to post this when an episode of game changer would ordinarily be released. to plug the gap. to tide us over.#(the finale trailer is so delightfully unhinged and i cannot wait til next week)#anyway gang this one was wild #the slight but significant genre shift from 'game changer with doctor who elements' to 'doctor who with game changer elements'#it was fun to write! and hopefully fun to read :)#also i MUST say that eugene northernfireart has a baller comic in the works that this entire thing is based on #this is thousands of words of setup and continuation because the sketch idea was so good it possessed me #and we decided that it had to be a proper dw episode #(hey rtd hire me pls)#anyway eugene is on hiatus bc of life so in the meantime go give him love and be Fuckin Hyped for the comic when it appears bc i know i am

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