#how hungry horse AGAIN

[dreamiann]

finally put up my whiteboard in my room and blacked out when drawing this…..

(no i don’t have an obsession with the how hungry horse. no don’t look at my previous posts.)

[sillyandquiteawkward]

i should expect it but realizing that i can say things about jimmy and then get misunderstood bc i didnt spell out all of my feelings and create fun boundaries in my little play place of a post and ppl are just assuming were talking about the same thing bc its adjacent to the fandom joke. silly me tbh

[werewolfsmile]

...

[sluttyten]

Finding Home

Kinktober Day 5 | Jaehyun Masterlist | Member Masterlist

tags: zombie apocalypse au, shower sex, thigh riding, handjob, choking, daddy kink, penetration

length: 7242

You’ve been on your own for too long.

Too long you’ve been your own source of survival against the zombies. Too long you’ve been hungry and thirsty.

But tonight, as you settle in to sleep in your chosen tree for the night, you spot a fire glow in the distance. Fire means people, people means food, and fire and people means that they’re fools that are going to draw zombies right to them. 

You slip quietly from the tree, making sure that your blades are secure before you set off towards the fire. 

You hear zombies moving through the trees, moaning and shuffling as they make for the firelight as well, but as you approach the site, you see why the people that set the fire are so confident. They’ve set up a barricade of stakes jutting outwards. Already a few zombies are caught in the trap, and as you hang back a safe distance, you watch one of the people inside the barrier walk around, knifing each captured zombie to end them.

Quietly, you scale a tree, perch yourself on a branch, and observe the camp below. 

There’s one central fire, two men, a horse and wagon loaded down with items. The one man continues walking around the perimeter, killing zombies when they throw themselves on the stakes. The other man sits at the fire, cooking their dinner, and the scent of sizzling sausages wafts up to you on the breeze, setting your stomach growling.

You wait, watching as the man at the perimeter returns to the fire. You watch them eat their fill, reminding you how empty your own belly is. They drink from their canteens, and you’re reminded how dry your mouth is. You wait, observing one man recline beside the fire, his head pillowed on his bag. The other walks away from the fire, taking a seat on a tree stump, and he looks out at the perimeter, occasionally getting up to kill a newly arrived zombie, which doesn’t happen nearly as often once the fire begins to die.

You wait until the one on guard slouches forward, his head propped up by his elbow on his knee. You wait until the faint sound of snoring carries up to you, and then you make your move. 

You have practice with stealth, and your feet are silent on the forest floor. You slip over the wall of stakes easily, and then you make for the glowing remains of the fire. They’d left half a sausage in the pan, and you’d seen one of them pull a bit of bread or something out of a box sitting a few feet from the fire.

Hunger runs deep into your bones, making you desperate enough to do this.

You first go to the box, quietly lifting the lid. There is a loaf of dry bread sitting right there beside two small apples. You grab the bread, tear off a chunk, and devour it, licking the crumbs from your filthy fingers as you pick up the canteen left by the one on guard duty. You drink a few mouthfuls of clean water, and then you tiptoe back to the fireside, searching the dark ground for the pan with the half sausage. 

You crouch, hands brushing in front of you. The dim glow of the fire isn’t enough to help you distinguish the pan from the ground, but it is enough that when you come face to face with the man sleeping beside the fire, you startle. 

He’s not asleep anymore.

You yelp as he lunges. One of you kicks something metallic with a loud clang, probably the pan, but you don’t have the chance to mourn the potential loss of your dinner because the man is wrestling you, trying to get his hands on you, to pin you down, to wrap his hands around your throat. You struggle, hitting and kicking, rolling over him just to have him flip you over again.

He pins you to the ground, hands firm on you, body heavy.

You’ve been on your own for too long. You haven’t felt the touch of another person in two years.

Your arms are caught above your head, his hips weigh yours down. Is it any wonder that you moan a little? You don’t even mind the sharp prick as he suddenly pulls a knife, pressing it threateningly beneath your chin.

“Jaehyun?” The perimeter guard runs up, and a moment later, the light of the fire grows again. You twist your head towards it, just able to make out the sight of the perimeter guard crouched beside the fire, blowing on the growing flames, a flint in one hand. 

He’s handsome, you realize, now that you’re this close. His hair is grown down to his chin, dark black. He’s younger than you’d thought he’d be. For some reason you were picturing these two being older men in their forties maybe, but he can’t be any older than thirty years old, if even that.

And then you turn your wide-eyed gaze to the man that has you pinned. 

God, he’s possibly even more handsome. 

“Johnny, we have a thief on our hands,” the man above you says. “She was eating our bread, drinking our water.”

You whine. “I just wanted your sausage.”

Johnny over by the fire laughs. “Couldn’t think to ask nicely, dear? Jaehyun pulled a knife on you and everything.”

His hand on the knife twitches, he shifts his weight above you, and this time you whimper – not out of fear or pain, but purely out of arousal. The last time you felt a man’s touch was over two years ago, a night with your boyfriend about a week before the zombie virus hit. 

Jaehyun scoffs above you. “I could be wrong, Johnny, but I think she’s enjoying this.”

“Sorry,” you hiss, “it’s just been a while since a man’s had me in this position.”

Jaehyun smirks. “With a knife to your throat?”

You tilt your chin up a little. “No, with his dick digging into my belly. Get off.”

“Promise you won’t kill us if I let you up?” Jaehyun asks. “We’ll share our sausage with you.”

Again, Johnny laughs. 

A zombie snarls from the perimeter, and you look in that direction, twisting your head in time to see a large zombie collide with a stake, pushing himself halfway along it in his determination to reach the fire and the three of you. Johnny curses and gets to his feet, jogging over to drive his knife into the zombie’s skull.

Jaehyun rolls off of you and sits up, running his fingers through his hair. 

You wait a moment, keeping your eyes fixed on the gleam of his knife. He looks over at you again, then says, “You can sit up. I’m not going to hurt you. Here.” He reaches over, locating the pan with the half a sausage in it, luckily not overturned in the dirt. He passes it over to you. “Eat.”

You snatch it from him, quickly gobbling down the spicy, greasy cold sausage. It’s the best thing you’ve eaten in ages.

“Where did you come from?” Jaehyun asks, looking around the perimeter until he locates Johnny. “Are you by yourself?”

You nod, chewing the lump of sausage in your mouth. “About a year,” you say, and then you swallow and continue, “I’ve been on my own about a year. Bounced around a few groups there for a while in the beginning of all of this, but about a year ago I was separated from the rest when a fire broke out overnight. I’ve been on my own since then, making my way, looking for somewhere safe.”

Jaehyun stares at you for a long moment, and then says, “We’ve got somewhere safe. That’s where we’re heading, if you want to tag along.” He gestures at the wagon and the horse sleeping nearby. “We have supplies. You wouldn’t have to be alone anymore.”

“I’d like that.” You inhale the last bite of sausage. 

Johnny and Jaehyun switch after that. Jaehyun takes watch and Johnny dozes beside the fire. You occupy Jaehyun’s attention for a little while, answering his questions and asking some of your own about the experiences you’ve lived through since the start of the zombie virus. He tells you that he and Johnny have been friends for years, and they actually were separated when it all started, but found each other about five months in.

“I was shocked when I saw him sitting in the dining hall of our community. It was my first week there, and I couldn’t believe my eyes,” Jaehyun laughs softly, “I thought I had to be imagining him since I’d not see him at all in the past few days, but he’d been out on a scavenging mission all week. He and I make a great team, so we come out on scavenging missions together frequently.”

After a while, you doze off beside the fire.

When the first rays of morning light reach you, you jolt awake, fearing that it was all a dream or that worse yet they’ll have packed up and left you here alone. But Jaehyun’s standing a few feet away, fastening the harness on the horse. Johnny is waking up, walking off to piss near the edge of their campsite. 

And then you leave with them. 

It takes most of the day to travel to their community, and when you see the border fence and the guard tower of a prison, you begin to feel excited. This place looks safe. And it must be because there are a dozen guards that greet the three of you at the gate, and you’re not even mad when they separate you from Johnny and Jaehyun so you can be interrogated by the leader.

Their leader is a grizzly older man who looks like he’s definitely seen some shit. He asks you a million questions, and your answers must satisfy because before the sun sets, you’re being shown through the prison by an excited young man named Mark.

He shows you the dining hall, the gardens in the former recreation yard, the men's showers, the women's showers, the armory, and then Cell Blocks A-F where everyone sleeps. There are sixteen cells per block, eight on each of the two levels, plus they’ve managed to make bunk beds in the open area on the ground floor of each cell block. 

“But the last three Blocks, don’t go near them,” Mark warns you. “Zombies got through and they’ve infested them. We’ve done a few recovery missions in there to scavenge the bunks for the ground floors and some other stuff, but it’s way too dangerous for us to try to completely clear them out and live in them. There’s no way for us to refortify where they broke through. And stay away from the silo. No one goes there.”

Noted. 

Don’t go past Cell Block F, which should be easy since they’re all in a row. Don’t go to the silo, wherever that is. You don’t even see anything that looks like a silo when Mark takes you through the yard, which is just the big grassy area between the prison buildings and the border fence.

Mark shows you the laundry, where the women working push a set of clean linens and clean clothes into your arms, and then Mark finally shows you back through it all, taking you to Cell Block C, to an open bunk on the floor. 

It’s not much, but it’s better than anything you’ve had in a long time. It’s home.

You grow accustomed to the place over the next few days, learning the layout of the prison, learning names and faces of your new community. You’re given the job of helping out in the infirmary since you’d told the community leader that you’d been in nursing school when the world went to shit. Mostly, working in the infirmary means that you’re the back-up for the doctor this community’s lucky enough to have. You clean up scrapes, deliver medicine around the compound, watch the infirmary when the doctor is otherwise occupied.

You’re happy here.

You get to see Jaehyun a few more times in those early days, spotting him in the dining hall or in the mornings as you pass through Cell Block B, the one occupied exclusively by the guard, including those who run scavenging missions. He and Johnny have a cell up on the second level, and some mornings on your way to the infirmary, you catch sight of Jaehyun pushing back the curtain that covers the bars. 

“Jae and Johnny are great guys,” Mark tells you one afternoon. 

You don’t know if Mark just decided that the two of you would be friends or if the leader assigned him to keep an eye on you, but you’ve been hanging out with him pretty often lately. This afternoon, you’re sitting together on the roof of Block E, looking out at the guards doing drills in the yard. You’ve been watching the two handsome men that brought you here, the way they’re practicing hand-to-hand combat. 

“They’re gone a lot,” Mark continues, “Out traveling the countryside searching for supplies. But when they’re here, we see a lot of Johnny in the rec room, entertaining everyone. Jaehyun keeps a little more to himself though, reading in the prison’s library, running laps around the yard, or just in their cell, listening to music. Ten told me that Jaehyun found an old CD player on one of their trips, and now he just collects CDs when they’re out and gets batteries anywhere he can find them to keep it going.”

You sit up there on the roof a while longer, admiringly watching the men move down below you.

It’s a few days later when you wake at dawn. 

You change into the shorts and tank top you’d gotten from the community’s clothing bank, and you head out for the main entrance. Coincidentally, you reach it right as Jaehyun arrives; it’s definitely not because you’d been asking around for the past couple days, trying to figure out from others when exactly Jaehyun went on runs around the prison yard. 

“Hey,” Jaehyun grins, “What are you doing here?”

“I was thinking of going for a run this morning. What about you?” You start stretching your legs.

Jaehyun watches you, his smile remaining bright. “I take a few laps around the yard every morning. You’re welcome to run with me, if you want, if you think you can keep up.”

“I’ll have you know,” you say, “I have great stamina. I’ll be running laps around you.”

He laughs.

And he’s probably right to laugh. You’ve done plenty of running in the last two years, but not like getting up and jogging four miles every morning. 

That being said, you think you do a pretty good job of keeping up with Jaehyun. Several laps around the prison yard before you’re collapsing down into the grass, sweaty and out of breath. Jaehyun stretches out in the grass beside you, his shirtless chest gleaming in the bright morning light, his shirt dangling from one hand. 

You want to roll over, to put yourself closer to him, to lick at the sweat on his chest, to press your body against his. God. You’re horny and generally deprived of human contact; you feel like you might cum if he so much as brushes his fingers against yours right now.

You resist your urges, but only barely. And you manage to not cream your panties when Jaehyun offers you his hand to pull you up to your feet. You just walk alongside him on the way to the dining hall for breakfast, then spend your entire eight minute shower fantasizing about his muscles.

Each dawn after that, you find yourself at the main entrance, meeting Jaehyun to go for a run. Each morning, you feel your ability to resist your urges growing smaller and smaller. 

One evening while you’re finishing up in the infirmary, there’s a knock on the open doorway, and you turn to see Jaehyun standing there. His hair is pushed back from his handsome face. He’s wearing a leather jacket that really just reminds you of motorcycle-riding bad boy fantasies you had when you were younger, and you want to just grab him by the front of that jacket and drag him against you. 

But you don’t because there’s a patient sitting in one of the three infirmary beds, and she might not appreciate the show. 

“Hey, Johnny and I are leaving again in the morning,” Jaehyun says, leaning against the doorway. “I just figured I should let you know so you’re not waiting for me in the morning.”

Your heart sinks in your chest. 

“We’ll be gone just two days. Tomorrow, then back the night after,” he says quickly. “Don’t wander off, and try not to miss me too much.”

You immediately roll your eyes. “You? No. Johnny? Absolutely, I’m going to miss him so much. Who else is going to harass me about practicing my knife skills?”

The past few evenings, you’ve stood in the recreation yard with Mark, Johnny, and Jaehyun learning knife-throwing and hand-to-hand combat. You blame Mark because he’d helpfully told them about how you’d been intently watching their training in the yard that day, and you’d made the excuse of just wanting to learn combat yourself.

“Ah, well, I’m gonna miss you,” Jaehyun says. “Goodnight.”

And then he’s stepped out of the doorway, and by the time you get around the doctor’s desk and to the door, Jaehyun has disappeared down the hallway, out of sight.

Those two days are nerve-wracking. It doesn’t help that the doctor gave you the second day off because you’d been so uselessly distracted the first day they were gone. You walk around the compound on that second day after breakfast. You find the prison library, which you’d not really visited before. You take a stroll through the administration building of the prison, which mostly sits unused now even though it was one of the first buildings they cleared out when the community settled in the prison.

You walk and explore all day until you find yourself late in the afternoon entering a section of the prison that you don’t recognize. It’s a large compound, so that’s not really all that strange to find somewhere you don’t know. 

You don’t think anything of it as you brush aside debris on your way down a hallway, as you reach a doorway that’s locked from your side. You flip the lock, open the door, and step inside. There’s nothing special about this place, you think, as you walk in. You can’t quite tell what it is. It’s got rounded walls, no windows. There are overturned chairs and metal tables, and as you start walking along the left-hand curve of the room, you realize that the ceiling in the center of the space is caving in a little, allowing in some sunlight and dripping from the brief rainshow that happened earlier in the day.

The holes in the middle of the ceiling provide just enough light that you can see there’s a railing to your right as you move around the room, and you walk towards it, trying to look over the edge to see what this place is. 

To your surprise, the floor just keeps going. Down and down and down, so far down you can’t see the bottom. And you realize that the floor you’re standing on slopes gently downwards, and as you follow along the path with your eyes, it spirals downward with dark squares set along the path. 

Suddenly you realize where you must be.

The tall cylindrical shape of this place burrows underground, which is why you’d never seen it when you looked around the compound. But the shape of it, the lack of windows….

You shuffle away from the edge, backing towards the door, but you don’t see the chair tipped over on the ground behind you until it’s too late.

You crash over it, falling backwards. The sound echoes, magnified tenfold in the space with its thick metal walls built to hold maximum security prisoners.

You’re in the silo. 

The shuffling, dragging footsteps sound suddenly too loud and too close when they start up. You hear moans and clamor from down below as well. 

What was it that Mark said about this place on your first day? 

“No one goes there.” He’d grimaced when he said it, you remember that now. 

You try to push to your feet, but your foot is tangled in the legs of the chair, and a dark shadow is looming above you, the reek of rot hanging around it.

You scream, tearing your foot free, and in the same move you kick the chair forward, shoving it into the legs of the zombie above you. You hear it collapse as you roll onto your hands and knees, pushing yourself upright and ignoring the ache in your ankle. Another zombie emerges out of the shadow, and you reach for the knife you always keep sheathed at your waist. You swing, connecting with soft flesh, and the creature dies with a low groan.

Squishy hands grasp your wrist. The sweet stench of rot fills your nose, and you scream again, kicking out at the zombie that has hold of you. 

You need some light. You can’t see them, can’t see where they’re coming from. You keep trying to move backwards, but you bump into something, hear the ragged, garbled sounds of something trying to make noise that no longer has the ability to vocalize. You swing your knife again, feel the blade sink into soft flesh, past bone. 

They keep coming, and the light coming in through the caving in roof isn’t really enough. You can only just make out the hulking, limping shapes of the zombies as they move towards you, as you scramble backwards toward the door that you’d left open. You pray that none of them have passed through the door, that they’ve been too preoccupied with their chase of you to notice that their escape to the all-you-can-eat buffet in the rest of the prison is open.

Again and again you swing your knife, slashing through the air at anything that gets close, anything that touches you.

You feel the spray of zombie gore, the disgusting dribble of them on your skin, on your clothes. You can’t think too hard about it, though, too focused on trying to make it to the door, which you can no longer really see, only heading towards where you remember it being.

And then there’s a voice distantly, frantically calling your name.

“I’m here!” You yell back, shoving your elbow into the face of a zombie, taking a stab at another that leers at you through the darkness, its half-rotted teeth catching just faintly the light from the holes in the ceiling. Your knife sinks into its eye, and you shove it away with your foot. 

Behind you, the door into the silo bangs open. Maybe it had swung back shut after you came through.

Light floods into the room, revealing the horde of zombies trying to push their way up the narrow spiral path. Arms are outstretched, faces rotting off. Some of them wear the uniforms of prison guards, others the tattered remnants of the prisoners' jumpsuits. It doesn’t matter what they look like or what they’re wearing to you as you kick one in the face as it crawls along the floor; your foot goes through his face, coming out slimy, and you slide as you take a step back. 

Jaehyun’s voice fills your ears, shouting your name as he races into the room. 

He’s brought a spear with him, and he lunges forward, kebabing three zombies at once. You stab another. Jaehyun pulls the spear back, swinging it around and smashing the butt of the spear into the head of a prison guard zombie. It stumbles backwards, knocking down a few behind it.

“Come on!” Jaehyun barks, and then he’s grabbing your hand, running for the door as it slowly swings back shut.

Jaehyun catches it just before it closes, throwing it back open to push you through ahead of him, and then he’s coming through, grabbing the handle of the door to slam it shut. He flips the lock into place, and it’s only now that you see the keycard pads beside the door marked with SILO - Restricted Access.

A zombie slams into the other side of the door. 

You take a step back.

Another bang from the door. 

“Is that going to hold them now?” You ask.

Jaehyun turns to you, his face so full of emotion that you can’t separate exactly which emotions he’s feeling. “Who knows, but let’s go. We at least need to get out of this building.” He takes your hand again, and drags you back along the hallway that led here. He curses as he goes, spitting out a complex series of curse words followed by, “What the hell were you thinking going in there?”

Does he really think you went in there on purpose? “I was just looking around! I didn’t know where I was.”

Your foot is still covered in gore from kicking in that zombie’s head, and your gait is lopsided because of it. Your foot slides each time it hits the ground running, and you hold tighter to Jaehyun’s hand because of it. You want to stop, just for a second, long enough to kick off your shoe so you can run properly.

Far behind you, you still hear the banging on the door, the groan of metal. Neither you or Jaehyun says a thing as you make your way to the heavy duty door that had been propped open on your way in. You didn’t do that, and honestly, it kinda seems like maybe if they don’t want people going in the SILO, then they should leave the heavy duty security door at the entrance of the SILO’s attached building permanently shut. 

As you run through it, Jaehyun pauses only long enough to shove it shut, and you’re already on your way, running across the stretch of the yard that runs between the SILO’s building and the rest of the compound. You’ve got a stitch growing in your side, making it hard to breathe. Your ankle is throbbing, your fingers tingle from how tightly Jaehyun is holding your hand, pulling you along the buildings aiming for Cell Block F, which is the closest.

“I told you not to wander off!” Jaehyun yells, still running, still halfway dragging you. “Shit!”

“Sorry, Dad!” You snap at him, lacing your fingers tighter through his and putting on a burst of speed to keep up with him. “Next time I’ll ask your permission before I leave the cell block, if you want to act like my parent.”

Jaehyun spins around, pushing you back up against the wall of the building. “This was exactly what I was worried about! I told Johnny that I had a feeling you would get into trouble while we were away. And looks like I was right.”

“You’re so wise, Jaehyun. So smart and better than me. Gosh, Dad, maybe you should hire a babysitter next time you leave,” you spit the words out, laying the sarcasm on thick.

Jaehyun presses you harder into the wall. “I didn’t say that.”

You attempt to push him back, and when that doesn’t work, you snarl. “Get off of me! I can take care of myself. I had that handled until you burst in. I don’t need you ranting at me all pissed off, acting like I’m a kid, like I need you to take care of me. Newsflash! I was doing just fine for a year and a half before I met you. So thanks, Dad, but no thanks.”

This time, Jaehyun’s hand flies to your throat, pushing your head back against the wall too. You’re pinned between him and the wall completely as he growls, “Call me Dad one more time. I dare you.”

“Oh, sorry,” you put on a sweet tone, cooing, “Daddy.”

Jaehyun snaps, his mouth crushing against yours between one breath and the next. 

You rejoice in the last of his restraint melting away, as he kisses you, his mouth working against yours, tongue teasing the split in your lips until you’re opening up for him. You whimper when your tongues touch, when Jaehyun shifts his hand on your throat to angle your head for him. His other hand slides up into your hair.

He pauses, lips freezing against yours.

“No,” you whine as he pulls back. “Jaehyun.”

He’s looking at his hand in your hair when you open your eyes, and the look on his face has your stomach sinking. He looks disgusted, and you wonder if reality caught up with him and he realized he didn’t want to be kissing you, if he’s disgusted by you.

“You have a little bit of zombie in your hair,” Jaehyun mumbles, pulling his hand out of your hair and flicking it to dislodge the gunk on his fingers. “As much as I would love to continue making out with you against this wall uninterrupted, maybe you should shower first.”

Oddly, a wave of relief passes through you. You laugh. “You know, typically, if a guy stopped kissing me to tell me to take a shower, I’d be super offended.”

“Oh, shit,” Jaehyun laughs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

You shrug. “It’s understandable. But, Jaehyun, about what we were arguing about, I know I shouldn’t have wandered off to a place I didn’t know what it was. That’s my mistake, I wasn’t thinking. But shouldn’t there be a little more security around the place? I didn’t even realize that was the SILO Mark warned me away from until it was too late.” 

He nods. “You’re right. I’ll talk to our leader about it tomorrow. Come on, let’s get you in the shower.”

The guards at the entrance give you a weird look when you and Jaehyun walk inside. Jaehyun doesn’t let go of your hand when he stops to talk with the guards, when he explains to them that you’d accidentally entered the SILO, that you’d stirred up the horde inside. His thumb brushes continuously over your knuckles while he talks with them, and when he’s finally done with that, he leads you along to the showers.

The showers are typical prison showers – one big room with showerheads protruding from the wall, drains in the floor. No privacy. 

“You can wait outside, you know.” You say as Jaehyun stands just inside the women’s shower room. “I don’t think there are any zombies in here.” 

“No, but who knows what trouble you might find if I don’t keep an eye on you.” Jaehyun folds his arms and rests back against the wall. “Go on.”

You maintain eye contact with Jaehyun as you unbutton your pants, as you push them down your legs and leave them piled on the floor. You hold his gaze as you reach for the hem of your shirt, as you drag it up your body, tugging it over your head. It hits the floor too. You back away, still staring at Jaehyun, loving the way that he’s not looking away either. You turn away only when you reach the wall to turn on the shower, keeping your back to him as you unfasten your bra, tossing it back towards your clothes. And then you shimmy your panties down, kicking them away once they fall to the floor.

You glance back over your shoulder at Jaehyun.

He’s blushing adorably there beside the doorway, but still he can’t take his eyes off of you. 

“Fuck, don’t move. Hold on.” Jaehyun turns, quickly slipping out through the doorway. You hear his footsteps racing down the hallway outside the shower room. 

“What the hell?” You groan, slumping against the wall. “Why’d he have to leave?”

You reach for the shampoo dispenser set in the wall, and while he’s gone you work on washing your hair, rinsing and scrubbing out whatever the fuck piece of zombie was in your hair. You’ve just finished with that when you hear racing footsteps returning. You look back towards the doorway over your shoulder, watching the way Jaehyun skids into view.

He’s holding a change of clothes for you in his hands, and when he walks inside the room now he doesn’t stop there at the doorway. He walks in, dropping the clothes on a bench against the wall, and he keeps coming. You turn towards him, facing him for the first time like this, showing him every part of you.

Jaehyun sheds his jacket as he comes towards you, drags his shirt over his head, and he doesn’t quite get around to pushing his pants down before he’s right there in front of you. He presses you back against the wall, the spray of the shower pouring over both of you as he reconnects his lips with yours, picking up where you’d left off outside.

The rub of his wet jeans against your skin is oddly arousing, but not as much as the feel of his hand sliding up your side, his palm reaching your breast, his thumb passing over your nipple. You moan into the kiss, bringing both of your hands up to his shoulders. 

“Jaehyun,” you sigh, pulling back to breathe, but his teeth catch your bottom lip, and you sink back in. 

His thigh presses between yours, the rough denim sliding against your skin, nudging up against your pussy. “Say it for me again, baby.” He kisses you, sucks on your bottom lip. 

You don’t have to wonder what he means, you somehow just know. “Daddy,” you whimper, digging your nails in against his shoulders. “Oh, daddy.” 

You roll your hips against his thigh, thrilling at the buzz that spreads through you when you glide your clit over the denim. Jaehyun’s thumb draws circles around your sensitive nipple, and finally his other hand rises to your neglected breast. He teases both nipples while you grind against his thigh.

“That’s right, baby,” Jaehyun presses his forehead to yours, “This is what you wanted, right? You wanted to rile me up, to get me to push you up against a wall, maybe treat you a little rough?” He pinches your nipples right then, twisting them too. “Ever since that night we met, when you were squirming and whining while I had you pinned to the ground, this is what you wanted?”

You jolt forward to kiss him again, but Jaehyun pulls his head back.

“Ah, ah. This is something you should’ve learned that first night, baby. You need to learn to ask nicely for what you want.” Jaehyun brings one hand up from your chest, curling it against your throat to keep your head pinned as he leans in, hovering his lips tantalizingly above yours. “Ask daddy nicely for a kiss.”

You circle your hips against his thigh, gasping sharply. “Daddy, please. Kiss me?”

He presses his lips to yours only briefly, and then leans back again, his hand still on your throat to keep you from following. To make matters worse, he drops his other hand from your tit, dropping it to your hip.

You moan desperately, wanting him back. Needing his touch, more than just his thigh between your legs.

“Baby, if you don’t use your words, how do I know what you want?” Jaehyun pats your hip lightly. “And if you just keep rubbing yourself on my thigh like this, am I supposed to think that you want anything else?”

You whine, rocking your hips forward right as Jaehyun grinds his thigh up between your legs. His thumb presses just right against your throat too, and you see stars in the most delightful way. 

“Let’s see how long you can last, baby,” Jaehyun leans close, running his lips along your jaw, tongue flicking out to lick up the water beading down your face from the shower’s spray. “Can you cum from just riding my thigh? Or can you wait for daddy’s cock?”

“Yes, daddy,” you gasp, “I can last.”

He looks doubtful, but you’ve told him before, you have great stamina. Although, this is your first sexual contact since before the apocalypse happened, so who knows, you might snap in a second and cum on his jeans.

Your hands slide against Jaehyun’s damp skin, the shower sending rivulets of water down his chest, soaking into the waistband of his underwear and jeans. “I want to touch you, too, Jaehyun. Let me help you feel good, too, daddy.”

You graze your mouth against his, leaning as much into his hand at your throat as you dare. Jaehyun smiles, pressing you back against the wall, but he does nothing to stop you from sliding your hand over his abdomen, down into his pants. 

Jaehyun’s eyes simply flutter shut, a pink blush growing high in his cheeks and his ears as you wrap your fingers around his half-hard cock, and you ease his growing erection free of his pants. It seems ridiculous that he’s still half clothed, but you can’t be too irritated by that development since it truly feels so good to grind against the denim, that buzz inside your belly increasing with each pass of your hips. 

He kisses you again, crushing his lips to yours, tongue sliding against yours as you both moan while you ride his thigh and jerk your hand along his length. His hand flexes on your hip. You dig your nails into his back, tightening your hand on his cock on the upstroke. Jaehyun is filling out in your hand, cock swelling and lengthening as all his blood flows south. 

The shower is tapering off, the timer that allows only fifteen minutes at a time running out. 

Neither of you pays the water much attention, too lost in each other. Although, without the water, the sounds of your gasping breaths, Jaehyun’s low moans, the slick movement of your hand along his cock, all those sounds are extra-loud in the tile room.

“Oh, fuck,” Jaehyun moans when you bring your hand to just massage the tip of his cock. His mouth drops down to your shoulder, pinching your skin between his teeth, and his hand tightens against your throat. You want to moan, loving the way that that feels, but you can’t get the sound out, too busy rocking your hips desperately against Jaehyun’s thigh, chasing the feeling that’s brimming in your belly.

Jaehyun falls back, pulling his hands and his thigh away, putting a couple feet’s distance between you and him. 

Your legs feel like they can barely hold you, and just as you’re about to give in to the wobbly feeling of your knees, Jaehyun throws himself back at you. You welcome his mouth on yours again, his hands reattaching to your body, pulling you against him instead of pushing you into the wall. His hands slide along your back, your ass, back up to your shoulders, diving into your hair. He kisses you frantically, hungrily, groaning into the kiss as he grinds his erection against your belly. 

“Jaehyun, Jaehyun,” you sing praises of his name, kissing him right back, running your hands along his chest and his neck, brushing your fingers over the blushing hot tips of his ears. “Daddy, please, I need you inside me.”

He ruts against your belly a few more times, and then Jaehyun releases you again only long enough to spin you around, long enough to shove his pants down, and he drags you right back in against him.

His arms wrap around your belly, hands rising to your tits. Jaehyun’s mouth fits against your throat, kissing the places where his hand had squeezed earlier, and he thrusts forward against your ass, between your thighs, sliding through your wetness until finally his cock curves up and slides home, sinking into your pussy like it’s right where he belongs.

“Ah, Jae,” you sigh, dropping your head back against his shoulder. He presses you forward against the tile wall, your chest and his hands trapped there as he fucks into you. Your moans echo loudly around the room, the wet sound of your bodies connecting, and Jaehyun’s sounds of pleasure too. “Jaehyun, yes, yes!”

“What’s that, baby? Whose cock is making you feel so good?” Jaehyun’s lips are against your ear, breaths coming out sharp and broken, moans and grunts rumbling from deep in his chest as he thrusts into you repeatedly, hurriedly, chasing after his pleasure.

You know he’s almost there, and you’re not far behind. “You, daddy! Yes, your cock is amazing. I’m gonna cum, daddy.” 

Jaehyun bites down on your shoulder as he cums, rolling his hips forward so deep as he shoots into you, filling you with his white-hot seed. Hips twitching, grinding into you, Jaehyun slides one of his hands up to your chin, turning your head to the side, and his other hand moves down from your chest to your belly, lower still until he reaches your clit. He rocks shallowly into you, stroking his fingers over your clit, and in the moment before he kisses you, Jaehyun murmurs in a breathy voice, “Come on, baby, cum for me.”

That’s all it takes.

Jaehyun holds you through your orgasm, fingers on your clit, his cock still pulsing inside you, rocking into you while you tremble in his arms. He kisses you softly, carrying you both through the high of your first real, amazing orgasm in two goddamned years.

You stay like that, kissing softly, bodies moving together slowly for quite a while until things slow down even more, and then stop. Your heart is still racing when Jaehyun pulls out of you, and you’re so satisfied and loose-limbed right now that you don’t think you’d be able to do a damned thing even if a whole horde of zombies burst into the room right now. 

“I told you I had good stamina,” you gasp, tilting your forehead against the wall. “Better than you.”

Jaehyun scoffs, planting a kiss on your shoulder. “We’ll test out one of your kinks next time, see which of us lasts longer then.”

You smile, twisting around to face him, and you twine your arms over his shoulders. “Bet it’s still me, daddy.”

Jaehyun pulls back, lifting his lips just out of your reach. “Being a little bratty, aren’t you?” His hand slides down to your ass, and he spanks you lightly. “Don’t make me send you to bed tonight without any dinner.”

You grin. “Oh, please, daddy, send me to bed early. I’d rather eat your sausage than anything else, anyway.”

Jaehyun throws his head back, laughing with his whole chest, his nose crinkling, dimples showing. He laughs until he’s wiping away tears from his eyes, and the whole time all you can do is smile at him and think that you’re ridiculously and completely in love with him. You can’t remember the last time you were as happy as you are right now, here with Jaehyun.

A month ago, you’d just been looking for dinner when you snuck into a stranger’s campsite, and instead you’d found Jaehyun, found love, found home.

a/n: this is like the fifth draft of jaehyun zombie au which is why it's going out so late today. I couldn't decide on the plot until rather late in the day unfortunately. But I really enjoyed writing this one, and I hope you've enjoyed reading it!

I hope you enjoyed! Reblogs are deserving of my eternal gratitude, likes are greatly appreciated, and your thoughts and comments are always welcome !

[suntoru]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ “YOU… CAN’T WALK?” *ੈ✩‧₊˚

summary: after a night of… suspicious activities, you find that your body is rendered useless!! how does your boyfriend react??

feat. diluc ragnvindr, kaeya alberich, childe, kazuha kaedehara, scaramouche, xiao, ayato, al-haitham, kaveh

a/n: blue balled </3

warnings: heavily suggestive however no explicit smut, minors get tf out /lh <33, innuendos, fluff, mentions of “girlie” in childe’s, basically after aftercare

─ ✰ DILUC is highkey embarrassed about not being able to resist his urges, so much so that you’re in pain because of him. he apologizes profusely and is so guilty that he hurt you 😭😭 you’ll have to reassure him that you’re alright, but that you just need some extra help getting around today or for the next week. he’ll be your majestic horse for as long as you need him to. need to go to the bathroom? he’ll carry you to and from, waiting for you to be done outside of the door. hungry? he’s already got adelinde cooking something up for you. thirsty? he just bought thirty different flavours of herbal tea. he treats all the love bites he’s given you and iced the bruises on your legs, looking up for your reaction each time. a friend of yours asked why your legs were so shaky and you couldn’t walk, and his face exploded into a bright shade of red, making it obvious that your… nighttime activities were the cause.

─ ✰ KAEYA’S your knight in shining armour, although sometimes you may want to smack his head. oh, he’ll help you alright, but at the cost of your dignity. he’s carrying you bridal-style in his arms, which may sound wholesome, but the things he’s whispering in your ear are clearly not. turning bright red, you nuzzle your head further in his chest to prevent him from looking at you. cute. he chuckles at your reaction, pressing a soft kiss to your head before gently placing you in the bath. the warm water helps your muscles relax more, easing up the tension from your legs. you sigh in relief, sinking further into the bathtub as he scrubs the soap out of your hair. you shiver when he blows over your hickeys, deliberately trying to rile you up. this time, you won’t give him what he wants, though. you flip over on your side, turning away from him with what little self-respect you have left. but it all leaves your body when he leans in closer. “easy there princess, being a brat is what got you here in the first place.”

─ ✰ CHILDE, quite like his name suggests, is a literal child. you thought kaeya was bad? well, this giant man baby wants you to flaunt off your hickeys and bruises to the whole world, he wants everyone to know you’re his and his alone. his teasing is x10000 times stronger than normal, he has no basic decency 💀💀 will make you ask for his help to inflate his ego, at this point just get up and leave </3 when you try to angrily glare at him, it comes off as more of a sad pout, so he caves and scoops you up in his arms like a kid. “aww, is my favourite baby coochie coo girlie okay? don’t worry, daddy’s here-” please smack the living shit out of him, if you don’t he’ll continue to baby and coo at you for the rest of the day. don’t even try to complain to him about the marks, he’ll just add more until he’s satisfied 😬 oh, and one last piece of advice? don’t let him see you in his shirt unless you’re looking to get wrecked (again), he’ll go absolutely feral.

─ ✰ KAZUHA, let’s be real, would be so soft and loving that you wouldn’t have any bruises and i stand this with my life 😤 but for the purpose of the plot, let’s pretend he did. out of everyone, he’s the most delicate with you. he’s so gentle and careful carrying you like you could break at any moment, whispering one of his poems quietly and humming underneath his breath. if you’re hungry, he makes his specialty dish, spoon feeds you everything, even tipping the water cup up so you can drink from it. he gives you so much love and reassurance it makes your heart absolutely melt 🥺🥺 he kisses each mark he made on your body, whispering “beautiful” each time :,) a tear slips by your eye, never has anyone treated you with such care before him. he wipes it away and pulls you close, making sure not to hurt you accidentally, and utters endless sweet nothings. in his eyes, you are a perfect creation, and he can’t thank the heavens enough that you are his. his muse, his love, forever <3.

─ ✰ SCARAMOUCHE, this bitch, thinks you’re being dramatic when you say in a scratchy voice that you can’t walk. he tells you to just get over it, and when you get pissed and try to walk away from him, your legs fail you and you brace yourself for the impact, but it never comes. his arms are hooked above yours, effectively saving you from crashing down and causing further damage. you angrily yank your arm back, telling him to leave, but he only pulls you up closer into his arms. he wraps your legs around his hips as he holds your waist, cursing something under his breath. he places you onto the couch as you turn away from him in a huff. “are you just going to ignore me?” silence. “fine. be like that then.” silence again. “…i’m …sorry. i didn’t mean it.” you turn back around, and he’s squatting on the ground with his head twisted so you can’t see his face. he moves away quickly, flustered by your gaze, and leaves the room for a minute. when he comes back, he’s holding some warm tea for your throat. needless to say, he pampers you for the rest of the day.

─ ✰ XIAO thinks you’re seriously ill when you almost tumble out of bed and land smack dab on the floor. you’ll have to explain to him why your legs aren’t exactly working, and when he does… flustered beyond relief. when he takes a closer look at you, he notices your body is full of love marks and bruises around your thighs. in the moment, he may have forgotten how fragile humans could be. he thinks he’s broken you, and he’s genuinely concerned for you 💀 you might have to direct him on how to help you, but once he gets the hang of it, he’ll do the best he can. unlike how he wields his spear, he’s delicate and graceful. he might be rough around the edges, but he’s trying, and you don’t have the heart to tell him that you don’t need him to carry you for the rest of your life, not when he cocks his head and looks at you questioningly when you don’t climb on his back. as an apology for temporarily immobilizing you, he brings you a qingxing flower and shares his almond tofu with you. honestly, what more could you ask for 😻?

─ ✰ AYATO is actual husband material <33 he’s already prepared for this for some reason 🤨 as soon as you wake up, any punishments you may have received have been treated and wrapped up carefully. a fresh pitcher of water is there for you, and by the looks of it, a bath is running. but none of it interests you if ayato isn’t there with you. carefully, with the help of thoma, you are able to wobble to the room ayato is in, concentrated on his paperwork. hobbling towards him, he pushes his chair back so you can sit on his lap. pressing a kiss to your cheek, he brushes the hair out of your face, “darling, you should be resting. i ran a bath for you, is everything okay? are you sore anywhere?” “can you come join me? please?” you beg, putting on the cutest pout you can manage. “if you can wait ten minutes until i’m done.” internally, you sigh, but you patiently sit on his lap and wait until he’s finished. ah, but don’t worry, the reward is definitely worth it. he kneads through all the sore spots, applies all your skincare, and changes your clothes. later, you do matching face masks 💗

─ ✰ AL-HAITHAM was probably prepared for this, he read hundreds of books about human reproduction 💀 he notes all the side effects you seem to have: a scratchy throat, unstable legs, exhaustion… he saves it for the next time you have… physical activities. he remembers an article he read on how to take care of your significant other after intercourse, and follows that. he makes homemade soup to soothe your throat, which he watches over you as you drink. he also forces you to take naps, he’ll read “the control politicians have over our daily lives” just to make you fall asleep. he’ll get your groceries, take out your trash, and do your work so you can focus on relaxing, all with a stoic face. if anyone asks him where you are, he’ll just give an obvious lie with a straight face 💀💀 “y/n is out collecting a census right now.” “but they told me they were sick?” normally his lies are flawless, but when it’s about you… his mind doesn’t function properly. but if you absolutely need to get somewhere, you’re going to have to ask him. last time, he locked kaveh out of the dorm for 48 hours for helping you get a book from the library because he fell asleep 💀

─ ✰ KAVEH’S face is the first thing you see when you wake up. jumpscare warning sir he’s hovering over you, observing your face. immediately after he sees that you are awake comes the barrage of questions. “my love, are you all right? i wasn’t too rough, was i?” he’s such a simp i could never see him being rough he dramatically gasps when he sees your shaky legs, pretending to be shocked, but he’s slightly happy that this means you’ll have to cling onto him for the whole day. but oh my, both of you still have work!! whatever shall you do? it seems like the only solution is for him to take you everywhere… he proudly parades you around the akademiya, much to the embarrassment of you. but there’s nothing you can really do, not when you can’t run away, so you bury your head in his back to avoid the judging gazes of the other scholars. kaveh shoots a smug grin to an uncaring al haitham, who probably knows and heard everything from last night💀💀

©hawkssimpsblog 2023. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[birdyshewrote]

“Birthday Girl”

Wolverine x Female!Reader

written by birdy

Wade Wilson throws you a rink-a-dink birthday party every year, and this year is no exception. But this time, you have a new guest.. and he’s been watching you for a while.

Notes- hi. ive never written a fic before EVER, so pls be nice. this is mainly for me to be able to get my thoughts out of my head because I’ve been thinking about this man for way too long. happy birthday bitches 🫶

WARNINGS/TAGS: smut- 18+ Logan Howlett x Female!Reader, Logan calls reader “Kid”, light smoking and alcohol consumption, Wade being a menace

——————————————————————————

You had caught glances of him a few times in the hall. The scent of smoke, leather and alcohol that belonged to only him drifted in the air behind him for a few seconds even after he had walked into the apartment room across from yours. There had been a few times where you stepped into the elevator and musky cigar smoke had filled the small space. You didn’t complain though, secretly savoring the intoxicating smell, taking more, quicker breaths than you needed too. You couldn’t deny the knot it put in your stomach and the weakness it put in your legs before stepping out of the elevator, down the hall and into your own room.

Eventually, you were tired of the mystery. Two weeks into the seemingly one sided tension, you trapped your long time friend and even longer time across-the-hall neighbor, Wade Wilson, into the elevator with you. Ever since the stranger had moved in with Wade, he had stopped inviting you over. Your birthday was coming up, and so was your annual not-so-surprised birthday party. Once the elevator doors closed, you started,

“Hey, who’s your new roomie?”

Wade scoffed, putting a hand across his heart on his chest, the other gripping a full black trash bag that smelt of blood and for some reason bubblegum scented air fresheners. “THATS how I am greeted nowadays? No, ‘Hello Wade’, ‘Looking good Wade’, ‘Here’s that five bucks I owe you Wade,’

You roll your eyes, putting a hand on your hip stepping away from him. “Okay, first of all, I do not owe you five bucks. You OFFERED to pay for the funeral arrangements after you killed my fish-“

“He looked hungry, who knew fish could be over fed?” He interrupted.

“I told you before I left!” You argue back. “I was only gone two days and you-“ You rub your forehead and shake your head, frustrated. “Whatever. Not relevant. Hello Wade, you do look good.” You say, defeated.

Wade giggly adjusted his weight to his heels, to his tippy-toes, then back to his heels again “Thank you.” He said, satisfied, and turned back to the doors.

“You didn’t answer my question. Your roommate? Who is he?” You ask again as the elevator dings and the doors creakily open.

He raised an eyebrow, looking at you sideways as the two of you walked down the small lobby. “Uhm, news flash doll face, Blind Al is not new. She’s an OG. Been here a while, silly.”

“Not Al.” Talking to Wade was like trying to a horse with dementia. “You know, ‘Mr Tall and Handsome,’ always sulking, ‘I don’t care about no smoking rules.”

Wade throws his head back, “Ooohhhh, you mean Peanut. What about him?”

“No introduction?” You ask confused, watching Wade as he carried his trash down the hall, holding the entrance door open for you.

“Well, I don’t know. I guess Iuh… I forgot.” He stuttered as he led you down the wet alleyway, towards the dumpsters.

“Last month you called me into your room to show me your new toothbrush. You have a new roommate and you just, ‘forget’ to introduce us?”

Wade shrugs, shifting the thin, plastic bag straps in his hand uncomfortably as he walked.

The truth was, Wade did not forget. The truth was, in fact, that one of the first things Wade had done was mention your existence to Logan before he was even fully settled in the apartment.

“I think you two would hit it off, hardcore. And I mean, HARD.” Wade had said.

“Absolutely not.” Logan grumbled, immediately shutting him down, not even looking up from the blow-up mattress he was unrolling in the living room.

Wade sat on the couch arm rest, looking down at the burly man. “Come on Wolvie, let a girl heal your cold, withered heart. You’re a tough, ‘don’t get too close’ typa guy, she’s an ‘I can fix him’ type of girl, I personally think it’s a perfect match.”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m telling you to drop it.” He snapped, glaring up at Wade. “I don’t need you playing Cupid here, you hear me? I swear to God, if I hear you that you’ve even said my name to anyone I’ll get the fuck out of here and never look back. I don’t need to be getting mixed up in any of that shit right now.”

Maybe years ago Logan would have been a flirt, he wasn’t new to women or relationships, but he had been through too much. He had lost too much. He’d never admit it, but the truth was, the infamous Wolverine was scared. Scared of intimacy, scared of getting attached, scared of loss, scared of you. Still, this didn’t change the fact that he had been secretly watching you leave your apartment through the safety of the peephole of his own door. And yeah, maybe if you weren’t so loud coming out of your apartment he wouldn’t know your schedule within a week. Like what time you wake up to leave for work or school, or what time you come home. What days you take your trash out or do your laundry. And when he found one of your sweaters lying around the apartment when he first moved in, what should he have done with it? He was holding onto it for safe keeping. And yeah, he knew it was yours, but only because your sugary perfume clouded his nostrils and made his head feel fuzzy. It was so recognizable, he knew immediately the sweater was yours. Maybe if you wouldn’t drown yourself in the body mist he wouldn’t instinctively know when you were just in the hall, he told himself. It wasn’t his fault he had animalistic smelling.

He couldn’t, however, find an excuse for how he’d hesitate in front of his door, watching for the elevator to stop at your shared floor, wait for the doors to open and inhale the scent of your panties from down the hall once you saw him, then he’d unlock his door and rush in quickly. Sometimes if he was unlucky he’d steal a glance of your full body out of the corner of his eye.

None of this meant anything though. He could contain the animalistic urges he had towards you. Especially when he caught a glimpse of your thigh when you knelt to pick up a dropped grocery. He could handle himself when he heard your thick, sweet laugh through walls when watching a show or movie. But at the same time, what harm would it cause if he touched himself while inhaling the scent of your hair, sweat and perfume through your abandoned sweater late at night? And keeping it locked away in a locked dresser wasn’t creepy, it was just there until you asked Wade to look around for it.

He could handle himself from a distance. He knew this. He knew his limits.

He had been woken up from the couch after a long afternoon of drinking and despair by a loud “SURPRISE!” followed by laughter and clapping. He did not know there was a party going on, let alone a party for you. He was completely blindsided when you were standing within ten feet of him, in his living area, talking to Al and Wade and the others, laughing that sweet laugh

Shit..

Where could he escape? The front door was no longer an option, everyone was clustered in front. Maybe he could make a run for it through the bedroom and out the window? Or maybe take his chances down the escape ladder through the-

“Sleeping beauty has awaken!”

Shit.

Before you could blink, Wade was pulling you through the small cluster of friends to the couch, where a very confused, very hung over, very huge piece of man stood like a deer in headlights. This was your first time seeing him up close, and shit was he alluring. His hair was untamed and messy from his interrupted sleep, his thick brows furrowed. Frown lines prominent as his large muscles twitched under his shirt-

“Hey, his eyes are up there you horn dog.” Wade publicly snapped you back into reality. Immediately flustered, you began trying to save the situation that was doomed from the start.

“I wasn’t looking at- I wasn’t even doing anything, Wade!”

“It’s okay, I know you weren’t. He’s just a moron.” He put an understanding hand up as he spoke. Fuck his voice was so deep and low, almost a growl. It felt rich and threw shivers straight to the back of your throat and straight into the dark jeans you wore. You swallowed. Hard.

After an awkward greeting, Wade had basically pushed a drink into both of your hands and left you to fend for yourself. Logan took a seat on the couch, the worn furniture dipping under his weight. He was clearly uncomfortable. He kept his eyes low, rarely meeting yours. He threw his arm over the head of the couch, spreading his knees. He pulled out a cigar and gestured to it. You couldn’t tell if he was offering you one or asking if you’d mind if he smoked, you shook your head no to both. You politely sat next to him, pulling your legs under yourself next to him.

Unfortunately, this man was not the easiest to speak to.

“So, Logan. You’re new.” You fidget with the cup in your hands.

He lets out a low “Mhm” while taking a puff, then lets smoke pool out of his mouth and drizzle out of his nose, before speaking again. “Yeah. Don’t really know how I ended up here. Just, kind of did.”

You nod, looking around the room. 2016-2018 pop hits played on the pink Hello-Kitty speaker Wade had bought for himself, now sitting on the kitchen table next to the drinks. Various characters lounged around the apartment chatting and eating pizza and drinking.

“Seen you around, y’know.”

You turn to face him again.

“Oh?” You ask, sipping your drink.

He nods in return. “If you need help bringing groceries up to your room or somethin’, you can just let me know. Heard you drop a few things before.” His top lip twitches just the slightest in what you assume is his version of a smile. He puts the cigar back into his mouth and chews.

You furrow your brows at the sarcastic banter. “Oh yeah? Didn’t know I had a stalker.” You bite back, smiling while doing so.

“Not stalking you, kid. Just minding my own business and getting interrupted every two seconds by my noisy neighbor.”

After this, the two of you spoke more fluid. Relating in Wade’s schemes and circumstances became a common interest. You felt yourself becoming more and more comfortable with the man’s presence. After your second drink, your leg rested against the rough denim of his thick thigh. He said nothing about it, so you continued to speak to him. You were unaware of what he was thinking or feeling.

He was freaking the fuck out. Especially when you asked him to go outside with him to get some air. He agreed, and the two of you slipped out of your own party. The night was dark as you walked through the city-lit pathway to the side of the building. Logan watches you and takes another puff of his cigar as you stretch in the open air. You sigh, relieved to be out of the stuffy room.

You could feel his eyes on you. The heat and heaviness of his lingering eyesight, watching your every move as if you were his prey. It made you nervous. It made you intrigued. You wanted to be in his sight, and he wanted to keep watching you.

“You shouldn’t smoke so much, shit’s awful for you you know.” You say, leaning on the brick building next to the tall, muscular figure.

He gives you a slow, sharp smirk in return, his canines showing through resting on the cigar.

Your heart begins to thump and he looks deep into your eyes, like he sees through you.

You let out a shaky exhale as your smile fades and take a step closer to him. He takes the cigar out of his mouth and looks down at you, shaking his head.

“You don’t want this, kid.”

You pause, trying to read his face in the dim lighting. “I do, and I think you do too.” You speak low and soft, like if you’re too sudden with your movements he’ll get startled and dash away. You slowly raise a hand and rest it on his hard, warm chest. You feel it rise and lower, he’s heaving now.

You bring your face up, closer to his. He doesn’t move, so you whisper into his own lips, “Logan, it’s okay.”

The light encouragement is what he needed. He looks down at your parted lips, pushes the lit cigar into the brick wall next to you, putting it out and dropping it, before muttering back,

“Well, you are the birthday girl.”

He leans down to give you what you’ve been asking him for, and what he’s been yearning for. He kisses you, slow and respectful at first, stepping in front of you. He puts his large, rough hand in between your head and the jagged building, protecting you as he pushes you against the wall. You bring a soft hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down farther into your space. He tastes like alcohol and smoke, and you couldn’t get enough. The kiss gets sloppier as you welcome his tongue into your mouth. You look at his face through squinted eyes, only to see his brows furrowed in deep concentration and self-discipline as to not overstep. You shut your eyes again as you grab his other hand, dragging it to your waist. He lets out a soft, low groan in response to the contact of your skin. Your waist feels so soft and warm is his heavy grip. He softly paws at your side, then up your loose shirt. He pauses underneath your bra, and you arch your back in response.

He breaks away, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you momentarily before breaking. “This okay? You’re sure? I can touch you like this?” He’s almost pleading, even with all of the consent in your body. He looks down at you, eyes half lidded.

“Yes, Logan. Stop asking me.”

He nods, smiling slightly, and slowly shifts his long, thick fingers underneath the garment, and towards your chest. He brings his mouth to yours again, greedily taking and lapping at your mouth. The scent of your arousal intoxicates to him. You clench your legs together, to which Logan uses his thick, sturdy knee to break you open and apart. You feel exposed to him now, resting on his knee. The rough denim rubbing sends jolts to your throbbing core. The kissing is wet, his stubble rubs against your lips as he gently bites your tongue with his canines. His hand gently gropes your breast, while pushing his knee against your dampening soft area. He brings his calloused hand down back to your waist, slowly guiding your hips to rock against his knee. He uses his other hand against your head to gently grip your hair and push your head closer against his mouth.

Logan didn’t get you a birthday present, but he was definitely making up for it.

[pinkmirth]

i need more cowboi reiner tryna knock u up pls 🥺 👉 👈

⸻ STUFFED!

SYNOPSIS ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ reiner just can’t seem to control how hungry he is for you. what better way to make you his than by stuffing you full of him?

CONTAINS ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ ( 2.5k+ words of . . . ) cowboy!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), nsfw/smut, modern au, countryside setting, established relationship, reiner has a big fat breeding kink, sex flashbacks, doggie style, standing sex, creampie, use of pet names (ex. mama, sugar, honey), reader calls reiner ‘papa’, mentions of pregnancy, lowercase intended, explicit language, minors shoo!

MY LOVE NOTE! ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ it’s undeniable that cowboy reiner’s got a raging breeding kink. thanks so much for sending in your thoughts, my love! now here’s rei-rei bein’ a shameless feen for his pretty girl! 🎀

reiner’s terribly distracted.

the last thing he wants to do is lay blame, but in a way, you’re the reason why. the mere thought of you is enough to make this cowboy go buckwild. rei-rei swears he usually has more self control, it’s just that you strip him of all common sense.

you, pretty little you, make him all scatterbrained. his head’s been filled with nothing but romantics and vulgarities ever since he took you on a date seven months ago. you’ve turned him into some fool in love, for goodness’ sake.

memories of last night’s escapades come to mind. his mouth practically waters when remembering your plush ass; how you tossed it onto his pelvis with an arching back and swaying tits, peering at him with the sultriest smile, not to mention those glimmering bedroom eyes of yours. he recalls having to hold you still, so you wouldn’t be able to squirm away if his pounding were to become too much. you were soft, he remembers, so soft. the flesh of your hips would squish beneath the imposing pressure of his callous fingers, digging tighter into your sides whenever you’d flutter around the girth of him. he remembers the way he came inside with a rumbly moan, leaving your pussy full and the sheets wet . . . he wants to do it all over again.

with all that’s going on in that perverse little mind of his, he can hardly bring himself to focus on feeding the cattle. the only thing that can solve his problem is its source; you. and just like that, reiner’s dropping whatever he’d been doing before. his chores can surely wait, but this surge of desire can’t be overlooked. not a thing matters as much as finding you, fucking you, filling you.

he rounds the barn, passes by the apple trees and the horse stables in search of you. his cock pulses with every step, prodding stubbornly against the soft cotton of his boxers, now smeared with sticky precum. reiner brings a hand down to provide himself some relief, palming his boner with a low grunt. he’s so fucking hard that it almost hurts. that’s what he gets for fantasizing about you for the past thirty minutes and doing nothing about it until now.

with heavy steps, reiner makes his entrance into the farmhouse and is met by the sight of you lounging in the living room. you’re seated on the floral-print recliner with your pedicured toes propped up, all nice and comfortable. you’re wearing the dainty string of pearls he bought you for your birthday earlier in the year. pride flushes throughout his chest when seeing how prettily it rests on your collarbone.

you greet your man with a glossy smile, one that makes his dick throb beneath his hay-specked coveralls. reiner wonders if you’ve taken note of just how red he looks, rosy heat scattered across his face, from the highs of his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. he can feel his skin blazing with complete and total need.

reiner elicits a weak mumble of ‘hey, sugar. . .’, a stark contrast to your tone being all light and cheery as you ramble on about the cute little mini-skirt you’re crocheting for yourself. ‘since the weather’s getting warmer,’ you chime.

reiner loves you. he really, truly does, but he simply isn’t in the headspace to pay mind to the mundane task you’re occupied with at the moment— not when he’s this close to tearing off your summer dress, bending you over, peeling himself out of his spurred boots and pumping you full of every drop of cum he has to offer. fuck, he’s breathing harder now. gradually, he feels his resolve slip.

“you alright, honey?” you set down your crocheting hook, staring up at him with big, curious eyes. your voice, soft and consoling, grounds him just a little. reiner pulls off his signature cowboy hat, sets it on the nearby coffee table, and ruffles his hair so it falls into place. “yeah, i’m just—“ a pause amidst his sigh. truthfully, he’s here because he wants to fuck you pregnant. “i wanted t’see you, is all.” he settles on saying that instead. it’s much sweeter, all the more more romantic. less fetish-y. you probably would’ve looked at him funny if he admitted to crossing the entire farm by foot just so he could fill you up.

“aw, rei! you were missin’ me?” you laugh out of flattery. oh, your reiner. he’s so sweet in his own right. your boyfriend wants to ‘see you’, as he claims, like he hadn’t woken you up with nibbles to your neck, taken a (somewhat long, fairly busy) shower with you this morning, and ate breakfast alongside you before heading off to tend to the farm. you assume he can’t help but cling to you and want more.

it’s sudden, but welcomed, how reiner closes in on you. he draws near like a magnet, until the space between you no longer exists. he’s crouching down to the level of the chair, hovering over you to press a kiss on your lips. “mhm. missed you so bad, mama,” he mumbles against your mouth. in reply, you whisper onto his lips, something about how he’s always ‘so eager.’ he leans into you, desperate for more, and the chair creaks underneath the addition of his weight. he’s a large man, anyone can tell. his brawny build and imposing height never fail to make you feel safe underneath him. 

reiner dips his head low and plants one, two, three sloppy kisses along your warm neck, and it gets you hotter than the southern heat. he leaves saliva in his wake, trailed by the lightest of bruises from his suctioning lips. he tries to undo your clothes and his, but the small space that this decade-old chair provides won’t allow for it. besides, it wouldn’t be wise of him to make you squirt on a family heirloom. “this won’t do,” he clicks his teeth, decidingly picking you up. your legs wrap around his torso like second nature, arms circled around the back of his muscular neck.

“reiii, baby wait!” you draw out the call of his name, but all it does is coax him further. can’t you tell that your voice is only making him harder? that your whines urge him to fuck you silly? 

“wait?” he reiterates, grinding up into your clothed core. you shudder upon contact. “what for?” from beneath the denim he wears, you can feel his stiffness poke against your flimsy panties. “don’t you wanna head to bed first, honey? hm?” you whine into his neck. it takes a good eight seconds for him to respond.

“uh-uh,” reiner gives you a half-hearted grunt, with his gaze fixed on your cleavage that the low neckline of your dress presents to him. obviously, he’s interested in other things. “here’s just fine, sugar.” he’s strong enough to fuck you standing up with nothing else supporting him, and you know that. he doesn’t need a goddamn mattress.

reiner’s large hands grab at your underside, using your ass as the perfect leverage to press you close to him. this is your third time fucking this week, and it’s only tuesday. you’d mention it, but he’s too busy kissing down the valley of your breasts. impatience seeps through his every movement, from how he grasps at your thighs to keep you upright, to eagerly feeling along your lower half like it’s his first time touching your body.

“slow down, rei.” begrudgingly, reiner removes his lips from your chest. he finally calms for just a moment, so that he can meet your beautiful eyes. your face has been overtaken by a subtle pout. “m’sorry, honey,” he murmurs between a deep kiss, all wet and tongue-filled. you assume that’s supposed to be his form of an apology. his toned arm re-fastens itself around your body, holding you tight, while the other bunches up your dress and pushes down his bottoms, “but i need you. so fuckin’ bad.” you could never deny him and that sweet southern drawl. he knows that his smooth mouth works magic on you— he always gets what he wants from his pretty girl. 

now freed of any confines, reiner lowers his hand to stroke at the base of his dick, tugging himself with a low hiss. involuntarily, his hips buck. “you can finish up that skirt later, hm?” he releases himself and appoints his attention to you, the pads of his fingers circling your clit in just the way you like. your head falls forward onto his broad shoulder. “hell, i’ll even buy you some o’those frilly ones at that fancy mall you like goin’ to . . .” he utters partially to you and a little to himself, still occupied with keeping pressure on your bud. by now, with your head thrown back, you’ve already forgotten what you were working on in the first place.

having done this countless times before, reiner’s quickly able to find your dripping entrance. the drag of his tip through your puffy folds causes a ‘shlck’ sound to elicit. reiner smiles to himself; you’re embarrassingly wet. your hips begin to swivel and writhe, that’s how he knows you’re getting as needy as he. choosing not to waste any more time, he pushes himself inside with one swift motion. you cry out from the stretch, already fluttering around the first few inches he gives you. so far, it's just the tip and some, but he's so wide.

“goddamnit, baby . . . i fuckin’ love this pussy,” reiner grunts through clenched teeth. he’d usually start off with a shallow thrust and ease you into it, but he isn’t feeling as patient. every thrust is fast-paced, almost rushed. the impact has you bouncing in his arms, all as he continues his unrelenting efforts.

“s’good, rei— so good,” wavering moans spill past your lips. he hisses when your manicured nails dig into the hot flesh of his firm, round biceps. you squeeze around him until his eyes go rolling back. “i know, mama. i know,” reiner whines and groans, because it’s all he can manage to do. if he was air-headed about you earlier, surely he’s braindead now. he pumps into you rapidly, restlessly, but he still finds a way to make it feel so thorough. that’s probably because he’s fucking huge; incredibly endowed, like every other big and buff part of him. with a cock this thick, how could he not strike every nerve and hit every spot? 

he rolls his hips up into you with breathtaking fervor, fucks into you until he’s balls deep within your pulsating cunt. sweat dripping down his furrowed brow, he rasps out, “can’t wait to fill you up,” sloppy kisses follow, and his tongue slides across yours as he mumbles on about cumming inside, stuffing you full, making you his. you finally know what he’s doing, you should’ve known all along— he’s going to pump his cum into you as deep as he can get it to go. thrust his seed into your pliant womb until he’s fucked a baby into you. 

the mere thought of makin’ you a mama has his head spinning. reiner’s breath catches in his throat, and your sounds heighten in pitch— the pair of you can tell that you’re bound to reach ecstasy. he squats a bit lower, goes a little faster, attempting to propel you both into your orgasms. it’s coming on like an impending wave; your belly tightens, toes curling from where your heels dig into reiner’s strong back.

he knows you’ve come undone once your smooth, ridge-like walls begin to spasm around him, to the point where he can hardly pull back or push in further. he likes to think that it’s your pretty pussy’s way of begging for his cum. still, he doesn’t let up, not until you’re thoroughly impregnated. “jus’ a lil more. hold on ‘fa me, honey, m’kay?” he pleads through throaty whimpers. weakly, you nod. the overstim makes you pant and mewl, biting onto the damp skin of his exposed jugular to try and quiet yourself.

reiner slams you down onto him, the veins in his forearms bulging as he desperately grasps onto the globes of your ass. the resounding slap of skin rings around his tingling ears, lewd sounds floating throughout the otherwise quiet farmhouse.

“g’na let papa fill you up? yeah?” you cry out a weak ‘mhm!’ along with other pleas of how much you want it; want him. his balls twitch and his abdomen goes tense. “m'close,” he gruffly whispers. you decide to spur him on: “g-gimme your babies, papa, i need it!” that’s all he needs to topple over the edge. “oh fuck, mama— m’gonnacum,” reiner’s words jumble together when he comes, coating your insides with warm globs of white. though his thighs never cease their trembling, he still maintains a steady hold on you, keeping your limp frame upright. 

reiner stays inside as a means of keeping all his seed plugged into you, just for good measure. he doubts that he’s got enough energy remaining to round up the cattle after this. his chest heaves slowly, and his hair’s a mess from all that pulling you were doing, but he’s more than satisfied. he's even got this dumb, blissed-out smile on his face to show his content. you're sure he's knocked you up thoroughly by now.

he’ll make sure to buy you a pregnancy test by next morning. 

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, jackson era

word count: 1k

summary: joel finally allows you to pamper him.

warnings: a very explicit and detailed blow job, cock worship, dirty talk

Joel doesn’t let you pamper him—ever. You hate that he doesn’t. But you also understand. This isn’t a world of soft caring touches and velvet tongues. He doesn’t mind spoiling you, however. He loves watching you quiver underneath him, especially loves hearing you beg when he makes you come over and over again, be it with his fingers or tongue. 

That doesn’t change the fact that you want to be the one spoiling him for a change. 

He changed during his time in Jackson. He’s more relaxed now—one might even say he’s happy. 

Which is why, right before sleep, you decide to kneel before him as he sits at the edge of the bed to take off his boots. You look up with hungry and hopeful eyes. 

“Darlin’,” he sighs. “What are you doin’?” 

“Don’t say no.” 

“I don’t even know what I’m sayin’ no to.” 

You let out a soft exhale as his thumb touches your cheek. He caresses the skin softly. His chuckle comes out in a puff of air, the corner of his eyes crinkling, he smiles down at you. 

“Tell me what you want.” 

The side of your face drops to his knee, “I want to suck your cock. I want you to let me make you feel good.” 

“You always make me feel good,” the soft timber of his voice makes you shudder, arousal pooling between your legs. Your eyelids flutter before you answer. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Fine then,” he says in a faux exasperation. Joel spreads his legs and flattens his palms on the bed. “Do what you want sweetheart. I ain’t dumb enough to say no to you suckin’ my cock.” 

You shudder at the words, you love it when he talks dirty, his voice dropping and almost hoarse whenever he does. Looking up, you slowly unbutton his pants and lower the zipper. He helps you out only by lifting his hips, you don’t bother removing them completely. There’s something mind-numbingly arousing about being half-dressed, as if the two of you might need to bolt at any second, or the feeling that you’re not supposed to be doing this. 

But, of course, this is your home and the two of you can do anything. Still, the thought is enough to have you grinding down onto nothing. 

His cock is beautiful. And you had told him as much in the past only for your words to be shrugged off. Lowering his boxers, you watch as his length juts between his legs, painfully hard and leaking. You press your lips to the side, sliding down, you allow the tip of your tongue to trace the vein. You smile as you hear a hitch of breath. Flattening your tongue against the underside of him, you meet his gaze with heavy lashes. 

“I love your cock,” you say, voice embarrassingly horse. “You’d be amazed at how soaked I am right now.” 

A choked-out sound leaves him, a sound you can’t quite decipher. You elect to ignore it and dip down. You press your tongue between his balls, taking the sensitive skin between your lips as you let out a half-muffled moan. His hips jerk, cock gliding over your face. He’s so warm. 

Bringing a hand up, you cup him while continuing to swirl your tongue. You take him into your mouth, hallowing your cheeks. He’s getting louder now. However, you can still tell that he’s biting back sounds. You suck even harder, relishing in the way his thighs shake. You let go of them with a pop and bring your tongue back to his aching cock, you drag your lips until you reach the tip, wrapping your lips around him. 

“Fuck— Sweetheart. . . Jesus fuckin’ Christ. You’re gonna kill me.” 

Heavy drops of precome coat your tongue, moaning around him, you take him even deeper until the bulbous head reaches the back of your throat. His chest rattles with a growl, both hands coming up to each side of your head to push you further down. Your eyes water as you feel him inching down your throat, your lungs expanding as you try to breathe. Your thighs press together helplessly, desperate to relieve the growing pulse between your legs. You decide to bring one hand down but he stops you, only pulling back a little so you can breathe.

“You ain’t touchin’ yourself until I’m done. I thought you wanted to spoil me, honey. Don't go back on your words now. Don’t be a brat who’s nothin’ but bark and no bite.”

Much to your surprise, he drops his hands back down to his thighs, “Make me come, then I’ll take care of you.”  

Your insides flutter, cunt clenching almost painfully at the hoarse tone of his words. You brace yourself by placing your hands on top of his, straightening yourself to get a better angle. Your head bobs up and down on him, the wet sounds of your mouth working around him blending with his ragged breathing. He’s so close, you can tell by the way his back tenses and his breathing becomes more erratic. Your hand sneaks underneath his cock, giving him a gentle tug. 

With renewed fervor, you suck harder and faster, your tongue dancing around him, your hand squeezing his balls in perfect time with the movements of your mouth. Joel’s grip on his thighs tightens, nails biting into his own skin, and you can feel him throbbing in your mouth. 

You pull back, gasping for air, and pump him faster with your hand, your mouth hovering just above him. Joel’s eyes meet yours and for a moment, you can see the tenderness and love there, buried under the lust. 

With one final stroke, you feel him release in your hand, his body shuddering and his hands flying to your head, clutching at your hair. Thick spurts of come lands on your cheek, lips, and chest, dripping down your burning body. You kiss the head of his cock, swallowing the last of his hot come, savoring the taste of him in your mouth. 

Reluctantly, you pull away, panting with your cheeks burning. Joel leans back on the bed, his chest heaving as he comes down from his high. 

“I knew you’d be good at that,” he says with a chuckle, running a hand through his hair. 

You smile as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, “I told you. You should’ve let me do it way before, you’re too stubborn for your own good.” 

Joel grins and pulls you into bed with him, tucking you against his side as he begins to lazily play with your clit. 

“I think it’s my turn to return the favor,” he murmurs against your temple, his one hand trailing down to your breast. Your breath catches in your throat as he fondles you, playing with the pebbled flesh. 

And as he takes you over the edge, you can’t help but think that this is the kind of life you could get used to—spending nights with Joel, spoiling each other in every way possible, and maybe even falling in love a little more every day.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Yandere Wild West Outlaw!'s Reaction to You Trying to Escape

Warnings: Slight Sexual Content, Implied Sexual Thoughts, Dominant Outlaw Confirmed, Kidnapping, Restraining/Binding, Binding Kink ( 👀), Punishment, Outlaw having Intrusive Thoughts, Forced Proximity (And They Were Roommates), No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

♡ He has you tied down to a chair so quickly you don’t even get the chance to feel the wind being knocked out of you.

♡ Yandere Outlaw hasn’t survived this long by letting pretty little things like you turn the tables on him. And if his unwavering strength and endurance aren’t enough to confirm that, his knotting skills are.

♡ “Thought ya could pull the wool over my eyes, didn’tya,” the Outlaw drawls, pulling the rope tight over your wrists, panting, recovering from your frolic with freedom.

♡ He leans in, close enough that you can smell the rock-beaten freshness of his shirt, can feel the warmth of his anger radiating against your skin.

♡ “Suppose I’ll just have to discipline ya. Make ya nice and obedient.”

♡ Despite the low, husking tone of his voice, the quiet promise of promiscuity in his drawl, Outlaw’s rendition of punishment comes as… solitude.

♡ He leaves you tied to that chair for hours, riding off into the desert, leaving you with nothing to entertain you save for your thoughts and the wonderings of what he’d do to you when he returned.

♡ You might view this as a cold, calloused method of behavioural conditioning. Starving you, not letting you stretch your legs or go to the bathroom.

♡ Of course, the punishment is still horrific. But, rather unintentionally so.

♡ You see, in the moments between Outlaw’s two-minute tango between you, himself and his rope, something in his brain had switched. Snapped.

♡ Having you look up at him with wide eyes as you writhed beneath his touch, the burn of the rope, the pleas starting to fall from between your lips for him to let you go, stirred something in him. A primal frenzy. A dark need.

♡ Yandere Outlaw can’t think straight, his mind flooding with involuntary ideas, notions of what he could do with – to – you while you’re bound and at his mercy.

♡ He doesn’t know what happened; why having your body pressed so closely to him in such a thrashing, violent, desperate encounter has left him with a heavy burden in his heart and in…other places.

♡ He’s wrangled captives before and they’ve never had the same licentious effect as you did. Then again, he’s never kept a captive for this long, either. And certainly not willingly.

♡ Yandere Outlaw eventually returns, the thought of you helpless in that chair weighing heavy on his mind all day, taking him down avenues and annals of thought he’d only have the opportunity to explore under the cover of darkness.

♡ Of course, he was concerned that you must be hungry by now. Thirsty, too.

♡ That, and…

♡ How there’d be nothing to stop him from having his way with you.

♡ Yandere Outlaw shakes his head, his horse letting out a puff, as if she could read his mind. Don’t, she told him.

♡ “Don’t worry,” he said, voice quiet. He patted her mane, rubbed the space between her ears. “I won’t.”

♡ Upon Yandere Outlaw’s return, he cuts you loose. He doesn’t apologise, but his silence is thick enough with the accent of shame that you can tell he regrets, in whatever slim capacity, what he’s done.

♡ He puts together a simple meal tonight, either for a lack of trusting that you won’t spike his meal with one of the earth’s thousand natural poisons, or as an apology for his actions.

♡ That night, as you lay next to the Outlaw in bed, your hands and legs bound to the bedposts, the Outlaw looks over you. Watches you.

♡ He doesn’t know why the image of you being tied up hadn’t aroused him as much as it had earlier. Especially now, of all times, with you sleeping beside him, entirely incapable of defending yourself if he acted on his primal desires.

♡ Perhaps it was the thrill of the prospect of having everything on the line, of losing you. Perhaps it was the display of his strength, his ability to make you do whatever he pleased through physical force alone.

♡ Yandere Outlaw tried to dampen his thoughts by placing his hat over his face; to stop the heat he was certain made his cheeks glow in the pitch blackness of the cabin. 

♡ And to stop the onslaught of another issue. 

♡ Taking a dip in the cold waters of the river this time of night didn’t much appeal to him. Especially when he could indulge himself a little longer in the image of you gagged, bound and entirely his.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— seven

SUMMARY : dean would rather be doing something else with his time rather than doing research, he’d rather be doing her

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : sam winchester, donna handscum

WARNINGS : smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up, losers), fluff, the plot is abandoned :’(

WORD COUNT : 5.2k

A/N : yes, seven by jungkook. this fills the square for new position on my @jacklesversebingo card. this position is called ‘rocking horse’, lmao, very hot

She was staring at the screen of her laptop, every link was now purple instead of blue from having explored them all on her journey to research all there was to know about the Egyptian goddess Taweret. Still, she found nothing on how to weaken, stop, or kill the hippo. Taweret’s distorted usage of her abilities was getting too out of hand.

Too many pregnant people. Too many old people getting young again. Especially couples. For now, at least, that’s all that’s happened. 

Typically Sam, Dean, and Y/N dealt with the killing, the death, and the blood, but Donna managed to pick this up on her own and called the brothers for backup because it was starting to get way too ridiculous—terrifying, really. Reapers were overwhelmed and while the Winchesters and Y/N didn’t really care about how they were feeling, it was a major problem—when speaking about the universal rules: what is, what should be, what was, what should never be, etcetera. 

Unfortunately, the research has led to no real or useful information for how to stop the Goddess, not even how to kill her. And once Dean started to hum Travelling Riverside Blues while shaking his leg impatiently in the fourth hour, she couldn’t focus on anything else anymore.

Now that same song was stuck in her head and she glared at her laptop while trying to get a different song to replace Led Zeppelin’s in her mind. It wasn’t a bad song, but it got irritating, and every song somehow morphed right back to Travelling Riverside Blues. Her and Dean had been so good about focusing on the research, but sometimes one of them always made it impossible for the other to maintain that amount of silence and focus around each other. 

It usually started with some small conversations: How’s the research going? Have you found anything yet? Hey, remember when…? Are you hungry? I’m kinda hungry. Aren’t you tired? And so on. 

Then there were glances. From a distance, they’d stare at each other when the other isn’t looking, wondering if enough time has passed to not feel guilty for wanting to take a break. They’d smile to themselves, catching cute little habits in body language or facial expressions. 

Sometimes—most of the time—there was some sexualisation. If she’s wearing a skirt or a dress, he’d stare at the curve of her legs in some really sexy heels. He’d wish to have them wrapped around his waist as he fucks her or thrown over his shoulders with his face buried between her legs. He’d have to subtly place a hand over his crotch and hope his erection would go away or stop getting harder. 

If the neck of her clothes was low enough to show some cleavage, he’d spend his time analysing the size of them, the roundness and perkiness of them in the clothes she wore. Or remembering the way they felt in his hands, warm and soft, and the way she looked so hot when he’d tease her sensitive nipples with his fingers, the noises she made playing in his head until he was hot and red in the face.

And his mind would drift endlessly to the memory of her naked body. The perfect dip of her waist when he holds her there and the way she squirms when he does it. The softness of her skin when his hands and his mouth are exploring, sucking, licking, biting, tasting her as his mouth waters hungrily; touching, squeezing, scraping, possibly bruising her body so she could always remember him. So she could always feel him and where he had been. 

He’d stare at her hands as she typed away at the laptop, expertly pressing the keys with those swift and elegant fingers of her. She’d keep her nails relatively short and occasionally did them nicely. Currently, they were painted a mossy green colour that matched the gem of the silver ring she wore, one he’d picked out for her. Both of them knew the nail polish wouldn’t last, but he liked when she felt beautiful, it somehow made her a billion times more beautiful. 

It was the memory of them slowly moving across his body, worshipping while soft and sometimes cold, smaller than his, that made him bite his lip. Even the gentle caresses to his face when he was on the brink of breaking apart into dust in grief and despair. Her hand in his whenever they went somewhere, while they slept, in the Bunker, in the Impala, during sex. 

If he’s rolled up the sleeves of a white dress shirt, she’ll stare at the way the material stretches over his chest and broad shoulders, tightening around his arms when he flexes his hands and arms as a result of a cramp or the like. With that tiny fucking waist of his accentuated by the shirt tucked into his slacks, she couldn’t decide if she wanted to fuck him senseless or hold him gently in her arms. 

If he walked around to get a beer, she’d stare at the tightness of the black slacks over his ass, over his strong thighs when he’d bend over to reach down for the bottle. She’d have to hold back a moan and squeeze her thighs together to stop herself from jumping his bones or actually moaning out loud. 

Even his fucking fingers turned her on. It was fucking annoying, when he’d brush his thumb across his plump bottom lip to swipe away droplets of beer. It was embarrassing the way her walls clenched around nothing just at the memory of having his thick fingers inside her, pushing and stroking, quick and steadfast. Her panties soaked through with arousal with every bit of motion from his hands. Even when he’s cleaning their weapons. 

But the one thing that truly made her lose her mind were his lips. They were so distracting. All the time. Whenever he speaks, her eyes are glued on his lips, but he doesn’t think much of it because she does it often with everyone in order to focus on what they’re saying. He just doesn’t understand how much that doesn’t work for her when it’s his lips she’s looking at. 

All she can think about is how kissable they look, how soft they’d feel against hers, and how funny it would be if she just kissed him mid-sentence. He’d have that cute, bewildered, but pleased look on his face. He bit them often when he was deep in thought, slowly releasing it, turning it red and swollen, just slightly covered in his spit. 

He had the cutest habits with his mouth. Puckering them when he’s eating, pouting all the time, sometimes he said certain words they’d pout even more, and when he was pissed or focused. And then he did that model thing with his lips, leaving them slightly parted as he stared at nothing or was considering something seriously. 

He was fucking delicious. And that mouth of his was ridiculously talented. Really, very yummy…

It was unfair that he looked as sinful and as fuckable as he did without having to try. Even after waking up, with his soft hair spiked up in some places and flat in others. When his voice was thick and hot with sleep and he’d murmur half-irritated words if he was woken too early, or hot and loving things being mumbled against her ear when he was in a mood. 

After all that staring and longing, there would be trips to the fridge, when either one of them grabbed snacks for the other. Hands and fingers brushing against each other when passing over the snacks or drinks. Little smiles were exchanged and yearning sparkled in their eyes, but neither of them did or said anything about it, so the tension grew and grew. 

Maybe one of them might get closer to the other, pretending to curiously look at the work they were doing. Slowly, their eyes would drift innocently to each other and there would be an exchange of teasing and amused smiles. And then they’d bring their laptop or books closer and stay there, slowly legs would start to touch each other. 

It was like a circuit of lust. The endless tensions and the electricity that made them shiver, skin prickling, hair sticking up; for her: nipples tightening and tingly cunt dampening her panties; for him: cock stirring, slowly hardening and straining in his boxers. Their breaths became noticeably heavier and their eyes would be heavy with desire, and their arms and hands would touch to increase the voltage on each other’s skin until they just couldn’t take it and had to do something about it. 

They weren’t quite there yet, but they were both thinking about it. They already knew themselves and how things progressed from years of being together. It was nice.

“This is so fucking boring!” Dean whined abruptly, throwing his head back and running his hands down his face. “We shoulda stayed with Sammy and Donna to talk to witnesses.” He slumped down in his chair with a pout and then turned to look at his girlfriend who pursed her lips to stop a smile from spreading across her tinted lips. 

“You told Sam your knee was still hurting from the last hunt and wanted to come back here,” she reminded him with a laugh, moving the laptop off her lap to twist her torso left and right until the crack of her spine made her sigh happily.

“Yeah, well now my ass hurts, too,” he complained, arching his back in the chair and flattening his hands down his backside as it became numb. 

“Then stop sitting and walk around for a bit,” she suggested, stretching her legs underneath the table so their feet knocked against each other. 

“Ugh, fine,” he grunted petulantly, tapping his foot against hers in retaliation before getting up. He shut his laptop, taking the now-warm beer on the table with him. He squatted for a few seconds and she laughed through her nose, stretching in the chair while she watched him try to ease the pain on his butt from sitting. 

“Fuck, this feels so good… and painful, all at once,” he chuckled, pursing his lips so his little dimples appeared above his lips. He hissed when he strained his sore knee and then sighed when he was satisfied. When he stood up straight, he scrunched up his cute nose when something popped pleasantly, and slapped his own ass with both hands—at the same time. 

“Better?” She asked with a grin. 

“Not really,” he frowned dramatically, hunching his back. 

“Aw, come ‘ere then, sweetheart.” She mimicked his pout, moved her chair back from the table and patted her lap. “Come sit on daddy’s lap,” she said with a grin, then snorted. He let out a loud laugh and stood up straight again, placing his beer back on the table to make his way onto her lap. “Oh, sweet Jesus, you’re heavy,” she whispered playfully when he sat on her legs. 

“Shudup,” he said with a soft laugh, wrapping one arm around her shoulders to play with her hair and resting his over hand on her waist, his thumb brushing back and forth distractedly. 

“So, how’s it going?” She asked, a soft smile growing on her lips as she looked up at him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, intertwining her fingers to keep her hands from slipping away. 

“I’m bored,” he mumbled, lifting his hand from her waist to play with the thin strap of her red dress. 

“Yeah, you said that.” She stared at him for a moment, watching the way his eyes drifted from her hair, to her shoulder, and finally her breasts. 

“Do you have any idea how much I wanna fuck you?” Dean asked unexpectedly, his eyes snapping back up to hers to capture her reaction. She blinked at him in astonishment, a smile slowly growing on her face. “How much I’ve wanted to bend you over every counter we’ve come across?” He murmured, cupping the back of her head to gently tilt her head back, her lips parting and her heartbeat rising in response. She tightened her entwined fingers, staring into both of his eyes, waiting for his lips to meet hers. “How badly I wanna taste you? Kiss your lips? And touch every inch of your sexy body?” 

“Dean,” she uttered breathily. 

He smirked, teasing her by keeping his face inches away from hers, refusing her the pleasure of a kiss. His fingers slipped away from the strap of her dress to sneak into the top, but as his hands turned downward to cup her breasts, his fingers brushed against coarse material.

“Fucking boobtape,” he whispered and she laughed.

“My tits have to stay up somehow and not slip out if I have to fight,” she reasoned, feeling his fingers start to pick at the sticky tape. “Plus, a bra won’t make this dress look very nice. I mean… it’s got you this needy and hard...” She bit her lip and untangled her fingers to slide a hand between his legs. He became stiff and his breath hitched when she patted his hardening dick. “Get off me,” she murmured lightheartedly, letting him go completely. 

“Y-yeah, okay,” he stammered, swiftly standing up off her lap. 

He’d barely straightened up in front of her when she was starting to pull at the dark green tie to bring his lips down to hers in a rough kiss. He all but moaned against her mouth, grasping her hips desperately to pull the thin and silky cloth up so it bunched up at her waist, exposing some seamless, red panties that nearly matched the softness of the blood-red dress. 

“Bed,” she murmured airily against his lips. 

Dean nodded and quickly pressed his lips against hers again, moving with her as she made her way backwards, his hands groping and touching her body, hers pulling and tugging at his hair, their teeth clashing and tongues licking into each other's mouths. Lost in eachother, she ended up pressed against the wall with his knee shoved between her legs.

He pulled away, just to keep teasing her, “think I can make you cum on my thigh again?” He kissed down her jawline, his stubble tickling her soft skin, setting her nerves alight when he got to her neck, kissing softly and gently nipping at her pulse. 

“I don’t doubt it,” she moaned, tilting her head back for him to stay there longer. He began rocking his knee back and forth, wrapped his arm around her waist and jutted her hips out slightly to position her perfectly on the tensing muscle of his thigh. 

She grabbed at his hips with both hands and gasped at the friction on her clit. She started to roll her hips to match his movements, fumbling with his belt, struggling only because he wouldn’t keep still and her hands were shaking with desire, but she got it off eventually. 

He pulled away from her before she could unbutton his pants and she pouted at him.

“Come sit on daddy’s lap,” he mocked her words from earlier with a laugh, sitting down on the bed. He patted his thigh for her to continue riding, and while the thought of that was hot, she was hung up on him calling himself daddy, even if it was a joke.  

“Ewww,” she complained, holding back laughter. Still, she made her way between his legs and straddled one of his thighs, kissing his cheeks and forehead rather than plopping down and riding his thigh. 

“Can I take the titty tape off?” He asked, lowering the neck of her dress to peek at the tape that matched her skin tone. She nodded, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter, and settled onto his thigh, busying herself with loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. 

“What if I tattoo your name on my body?” She murmured. Dean shifted his gaze away from her chest to look at her inquisitively, blindly and carefully peeling off the tape from the skin of her breast. “Not a tacky tattoo, maybe Times New Roman, font size 10,” she replied playfully, dropping a chaste kiss to his parted lips.

“Oh,” he uttered shyly, and stayed quiet for a couple of moments. “Where?” He finally asked, giving her time to think before moving to her other breast to remove the tape there. She pondered for a while and then shrugged.

“Maybe… my finger,” she answered, wiggling her middle finger mischievously at him—as if flipping him off. He laughed at her, balled up the tape now that he was done, and threw it on the floor. 

“No….” He disagreed gently, grabbing her hand to close her fist, then kissed her knuckles. She bit her lip, smiling shyly when he looked up at her through his thick lashes. 

“No?” She questioned, rolling her hips against his thigh, her knee gently brushing against his erection. He shook his head and moaned, leaning forward to press hot and wet kisses along her neck. 

“Maybe here,” he murmured against the sensitive skin of her neck, nipping at her pulse point. She gasped and squirmed against his thigh, fisting his white t-shirt in one hand and burying her fingers into his hair with the other. “Or here,” he suggested, squeezing her breast, “maybe here would be better,” he added, then slapped her ass hard enough for her to yelp and jump. 

“All three of those places, then?” She teased breathlessly, rolling her hips slowly and sensually. He sucked softly at her clavicle, then dropped a few kisses onto her breasts. 

“Definitely,” he approved, dragging his lips up to her shoulders, letting his mouth push away the thin straps of her dress. “My favourite places.” She chuckled, squirming impatiently on his thigh. She guided his lips back up to hers by tugging at the short strands of his hair, choosing to nibble on his lip teasingly until he crashed his mouth against hers. “Need you…” he whispered between needy kisses, and slowly started to lift her dress upwards.

While she removed the dress, he shrugged off the white dress shirt, struggled a little when the sleeve got caught around his watch. “Fucken…” he grunted, unbuttoning the cuff with irritation.

“Don’t worry, baby, I love taking my time with you,” she laughed, pulling the t-shirt out from where it was tucked into his pants.

“Well, me personally? I don’t wanna have to pull out halfway through sex because Sammy’s on his way back. Not again,” he said seriously, lifting his arms to help her remove his shirt. She gave him an empathetic smile which quickly turned into an amused one when she remembered how uncomfortable and sensitive he had been the rest of the day. “It’s not funny, I was about to come, but fucken Sam had to text…” he pouted, then smiled when she started to laugh. 

“Yeah… as funny as that was, I really need to come right now,” she conceded and climbed off his lap to remove her underwear. Dean reached out excitedly for them, playfully brushing her hands out of the way to pull her underwear down swiftly. 

“I want you to come, too,” he said, licking his lips. She laughed quietly, holding his shoulders for balance, lifting her knee up so he could take her underwear off completely. “On my dick, though, not in my thigh,” he clarified, immediately pulling her back into him. 

He dropped impatient kisses along her waist, forcing her to climb onto the bed on her knees, before moving his mouth upwards, his hands exploring her smooth body. She wrapped her arms around his neck, closed her eyes and unsuccessfully tried to steady her breath. She held him close to her, let him slowly pull her down onto his lap until their hips met. 

“Dean, you gotta get your pants off,” she sighed. 

“Stay,” he breathed, rolling his hips up into hers as a promise of what he’d give her. She moaned in surprise, whining when he pulled away and spread his legs, forcing her to do the same. Cool air passed between her soaked folds and she gasped.

Awkwardly, he fumbled with his slacks’ button between their bodies, careful not to make her shift or fall back with his brisk and eager movements. He shoved the pants down his legs, boxers sliding down right along with them, and kicked them off his feet.

He didn’t care about doing it properly and immediately drew her close to him when he heard the sound of his clothes hitting the floor. She laughed against his mouth, reached down between their bodies to wrap her hand around his cock. 

He cursed softly against her mouth, grabbed her hips roughly and moved her hastily onto her back. It didn’t stop her from playing with him, teasing him by rubbing the hot and hard length of him through her folds. When she made a ring with her forefinger and thumb, he roughly sank his teeth into her shoulder and groaned loudly, freezing at the overwhelming pleasure of her fingers tightening around him and moving upwards in precise twists.

“Goddamnit,” he hissed, “shouldn’t have… told you I like—ah, shit!” He jolted, bucking his hips involuntarily when she started to massage underneath the head of his cock, nearly losing himself and nearly giving into the threat of his orgasm. “No.. wait,” he whined, weakly stopping her with his hands around her wrist.

“You sound so fucking hot when I do that,” she chuckled, “you know I can’t help myself, Dean.” Still, she let go of him and licked her fingers clean of the precum that coated them. 

“I have something in mind,” he started suggestively, placing a rough kiss on her lips. She hummed softly and sucked on his lip, watching him move down her body with his lips and hands. He pulled away from her completely and positioned himself in the centre of the bed, patting the spot between his legs. 

“You and your slutty little imagination,” she teased, crawling up to him. She parted his thighs, kissed along the inside of his soft—slightly scarred—skin and licked up a stripe of the underside of his cock. He groaned, reaching out for her arm when she twirled her tongue around the leaking tip, sucking gently on the soft head. 

“Enough of that, beautiful,” he murmured, tugging her upwards by her arm and away from his dick. She pouted, letting go of his cock with a loud and obscenely wet pop that made him groan. “Lean back,” he instructed delicately, licking his lips when she brushed her wet lips against his teasingly. 

With a small ‘okay’, she complied, leaning back with her hands flat behind her on the bed, her two thighs resting on either side of him. “Now, what?” Dean wrapped his hands around her knees instead of replying, and started to bend them upwards. She wiggled around slightly, moving with him and bit her lip when he slid his hands beneath her knees to hold her waist. 

One of his hands migrated from her waist to wrap around his cock, guiding himself slowly and teasingly through her folds. She became flustered, staring at him with her knees bent over his forearms.

“This is…” she trailed off, cheeks red and heart beating wildly behind the cage of her ribs. 

“Very hot,” Dean finished for her. He let go of his cock just to reach over to the bedside table where his phone was resting. She looked curious at him, thinking maybe he’d check on Sam before they got started, but instead he opened the camera and swiped until he was on the video recording section. “Is this okay, babe?” He asked, gazing back into her eyes, his thumb hovering over the red button. 

“Yeah, D.” She nodded, chewing shyly on her lips. “Do you have way more videos of us fucking than of us doing.. ya know, cute romantic shit?” She asked, not caring that he was already recording. He scoffed, positioning the camera to capture her dripping folds, her breasts, and the bottom half of her face rather than his body.

“This is romantic,” he told her matter-of-factly. 

“Mm, yeah.. right,” she snickered and lifted herself up using the strength of her arms so she could then lower herself on his cock. 

“You don’t think so?” He grunted, watching lewdly as he stretched her pussy open, slowly disappearing inside her warmth. “I think it’s pretty romantic, watchin’ videos of how I fucked you… jerking off to them when I miss you. Listening to how needy and desperate you get for me when you’re about to come…” He explained explicitly, holding her waist tightly, when their hips met completely. 

“It’s not just about the sex, baby,” he added, gazing into her eyes. She bit her lip and slowly started to lift herself back up again. “It’s about how it makes me feel. How you make me feel. It’s about time. Makin’ you mine, givin’ myself to you, lovin’ you, you lovin’ me in return, us.. being vulnerable.” She squeezed around him tightly and sank back down, her gaze soft. “It’s romantic that there’s no adios afterward, nothin’ for us to hide from each other during, just you and me barin’ our souls to one another… it’s about us.” He pulled her even closer just to kiss her passionately. Her thighs were practically pressed against the front of her body, somehow he managed to sink deeper into her, and he rocked his hips upwards so her clit brushed against his pelvic bone.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped, moving one arm to wrap her arm around his neck instead. He smiled against her mouth, and blindly set the phone down on the nightstand, skilfully getting enough in the shot without much fumbling. 

“C’mon, baby, you said you needed to come…” he whispered against her jawline, “so make yourself cum.” Dutifully, she began moving a little faster, trying to find a perfect cadence in this new position. 

He mouthed at the skin of her neck and chest that he could reach, careful to leave very light marks so she could wear that sexy little dress again, and let her take control of everything. Almost immediately, she was able to move at the perfect pace, towards her orgasm and his.

Gasps and grunts, moaning and groaning, they held onto each other trying to bring each other toward their orgasms unhurriedly. She tipped her head back and tried to pull him impossibly close. With the impact of their hips, her clit was stimulated with a pleasant grind of his hips moving upwards, and this time, rather than doing what they always did—slowing down when they were close to extend the proximity of their organs, increasing the intensity of it—he breathily encouraged her to keep going. 

He mindlessly praised her and confessed his love like he always did when he was close, meeting her thrusts far gentler than she was. Still, with one hand behind her and the other in his hair, she tugged on the hairs at the top of his head hard enough to make him moan loudly. His bruising grip on her waist didn’t let up, and his blunt nails dug into her back, waiting for her to cum before he could.

A few more strokes of his cock against her g-spot had her walls pulsing around him, gasping and panting his name, and pressing her forehead against his shoulder as her orgasm finally crashed over her. 

She dropped kisses along his shoulder and neck, shuddering from her orgasm, and with a loud grunt of her name, Dean came inside of her. Slowly, they stopped moving and tried to catch their breaths while holding each other closely. She played with his hair and he soothed her bruised waist with calloused palms, then leaned forward all the way until she was laying on her back to kiss her face lovingly.

“Porn worthy?” She teased quietly, resting her hands on his waist waiting as he made a cute path along her face with kisses to reach her lips.

“I could go a second round,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her. He slowly rolled his hips against hers, still buried deep inside her. She groaned softly and wrapped her legs around his waist, encouraging him to keep moving, and wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss anything vulgar he was about to say. 

Dean froze above her when he heard footsteps from outside their hotel room, pleading internally that it was random people passing by, but deflated when he heard Sam speak to Donna. “…I hope they found something.” 

“Shit!” Y/n whispered, trying to push Dean off her when the doorknob began to rattle, but Dean didn’t budge, knowing it was no use and wanting to use his body as a shield. 

“Well, the jig is up,” he joked, watching her throw her arms over her chest instead, glaring at him half-heartedly. 

“Dean, your phone!” She reminded him, but Dean shrugged just as Sam swung the door open and stopped mid-sentence with Donna exclaiming some sort of phrase in surprise. Y/n would have laughed at whatever it was she said—Donna’s refusal to actually say a swear word—but she just groaned in annoyance.

“Seriously, guys? Every time!” Sam shouted, apologising to Donna quietly who brushed it off with a quiet ‘it’s okay’. 

Donna sneaked one tiny glimpse at the naked couple just as Sam turned around for them to get dressed. Dean smirked smugly and winked at Donna, then looked away to watch as he pulled out of his girlfriend, their cum spilling out of her. His cock was hard again and Y/n shook her head, waiting for Dean to get the phone and get moving.

“You do realise that it could've been Taweret making you guys…” Sam scolded, filling the silence up as Dean gathered their clothes. Donna blushed and turned around as well, grateful that Sam didn’t mention her hesitation in turning around sooner. 

“Uh,” Y/n stammered, pulling her clothes on when Dean handed it to her. 

“You have a point, Sammy, but we usually do this, anyway, so…” Dean spoke up, giving Y/n a hand so she could stand on slightly shaky legs beside him. “‘sides, I did find something…” Dean announced, pointing to his laptop on the table. With a hard slap on Y/n’s ass, Dean walked to the bathroom to get cleaned up, grasping her small hand with his to bring her with him. 

“Sorry,” Y/n laughed, apologetically bowing her head before following Dean to get herself cleaned up as well. As she walked, she could feel Dean’s cum drip out of her, her panties wet and cool between her legs made her uncomfortable but she kept them on, washing her hands with Dean standing next to her doing the same.

“Well, they’re still cute,” Donna said brightly, trying to brighten Sam’s sour mood, but it only worsened when he opened Dean’s laptop and the open tab was a sex page with a list of positions to try. 

“Seriously, Dean? Close the damn tabs!” 

“Whoops,” Dean snickered, gazing at Y/n who only rolled her eyes at him, affectionately smiling. “Gonna play this video real loud tonight,” he whispered with a grin, shaking his phone in his hand, leaning down to give her a kiss on the forehead. 

“That’s really funny, but no,” she chuckled, bringing him down for a soft kiss when he pouted at her childishly. 

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Mama Bat 8: Hungry

Masterpost

Danny would prefer to strike that unfortunate incident from the record and his memory. As soon as he figured out how to cause selective brain damage, it was all over for the mortifying ordeal of being perceived in weakness. He swung his legs miserably over the bathroom counter’s edge and pretended very hard that he was alone in Amity Park where no one noticed or cared if he threw up. 

He was still in the room where Cass had hustled him to clean off his face and see if there would be an encore. He’d had to make a tactical retreat away from the toilet to higher ground when big bats flapped in after him. Presumably they’d learnt that he threw up when Cass went to get whatever supplies one needed to clean partially digested yogurt off antique carpet. Ancestral carpet. Probably made of some nutty rich person material like, uh, hair from the manes of prize-winning horses.

Somehow, Danny cringed even harder. He needed brain damage immediately, please.

“And you’re certain that you don’t need to visit a medical facility?” 

Batman brooded in the literal way that a chicken brooded. Danny tightened his grip on the counter just that little bit more so that no one could drag him into a nest and sit on him. “Wouldn’t do any good,” he said shortly. It came out a little too mean. He tried to correct his voice to be nicer. “Thanks. Tho.” Danny cleared his throat.

“Tt.” Damian expelled air against his front teeth and glowered at his father. “He looks terrible. You cannot believe this.”

Wait, what? Danny blinked down at Uncle Damian, betrayed. “I look terrible?” he echoed. What the hell? Criticism, from Dames? That was new and it sucked a lot.

Bruce got a pinched look. “Danny, honey, you have been looking a little…” He trailed off. “Unwell.”

‘That would be the lack of ectoplasm,’ Danny thought snidely. He kept his mouth firmly shut and turned away. Unfortunately, he caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror and winced at it. He did look pretty wan and thin. It was hard to put a finger on what was off about his appearance, but it was sort of… deathly.

He was putting on weight again thanks to Alfred and Damian’s monitoring of his diet, but it was just a fact that he wasn’t really suited to this environment. Too human to survive in the big Green yonder, too undead to get by on bread alone.

���...How does Jason do it? His vibes are rank and ghastly as shit,’ Danny thought enviously. ‘He screams BITCH I'M ABOUT TO COMMIT AN INTERDIMENSIONAL WAR CRIME constantly. It’s pretty fucking impressive. An aura like that is not sustained by creme anglaise and goulash. He has to have access to ecto somewhere.’ 

Danny really should have wondered that before. Jason had to be like, the most liminal human being around who wasn’t a halfa. He definitely needed ecto. Where was he getting it? Danny hadn’t really consciously thought about it, but… He felt himself tinge a little green again.

‘Was I feeding off of his ambient ectoplasm when he was here yesterday?’

His mouth filled his saliva that still tasted both sour and like toothpaste. Danny swallowed it with effort. He did not think of how good ecto tasted after you’d been denied and drained. He did not think about the sense memory of how living ecto would indent and then give with a juicy pop around his teeth, splash the inside of his mouth-

Danny buried his face in his hands and tried not to look like he was going to throw up again. Because he was not going to do that. He was not going to eat Jason and he was not going to throw up.

“Danny.” Bruce somehow made his huge strong guy vibes less intense. Danny reluctantly made eye contact to see that the guy kinda had homeless Labrador eyes at the moment. Big. Begging. Full of love and grandfatherly support that he's just waiting for you to accept. “Can I ask you a question?” 

Ugh. Yuck. Feelings.

Danny fidgeted, flexing and tensing his feet. “Yeah,” he said, after a too-long silence. “What's up?”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest, radiating intensely negative child energy into the room.

“Is there something that I'm not providing for you that would help you?” Bruce's voice was excruciatingly gentle.

Danny went stiff. 

Okay, maybe Batman wasn't a big dummy. Danny broke eye contact to look at his knees. His new jeans didn't have the usual tears over his knees. He stared at the weave, picking out an individual line of thread. Everything was so weird now. He was weird now. He’d made sense before but now he was the thing that was wrong and out of place. If he was more normal he could admit that he needed help. He could say what it was, if it wasn’t so freakish and he wasn’t struck silent by the knot in his gut.

“Whatever you need,” Bruce quietly promised. He lowered himself more to Danny's level. “I know a family who all need sunlamps to survive the winter. I have a friend who travels with his own fish tank of fresh ocean water whenever he’s on land.”

That didn’t sound very human. 

Danny sniffed. Ugh, his nose was leaking. He wiped at it with the back of a hand. “Like that tentacle horror guy from the pirate movie?’ 

Bruce's lips twitched. “Exactly like that,” he lied gravely.

He took a shaky breath in. He licked his lips. He glanced up and caught sight of Damian. Sweet, prickly Damian. The preteen was glowering as if that would hide how concerned he was. 

‘He’s a kid. That's a whole ass child. I’m not telling him I'm an existential horror that is tempted to commit cannibalism. Especially not when I’d have to admit that his big brother smells like a whole graveyard buffet.’

Damian sure talked a lot of shit, but he loved his family. A lot. He would have feelings that were way too big for his body about his ‘nephew’ needing to eat something like his big brother Jason. 

Not that Jason was a something. He was a person. Jason was definitely a someone. Danny winced away from that train of thought.

“Danny?” Bruce was barely audible. Danny blinked back to awareness to see that the man was tightly leashed in place by his self control. It was obvious that Bruce very badly wanted to take three steps closer and touch Danny. Danny drew his legs up onto the counter and hid his face between his knees. He didn’t want to look at anyone, he didn’t want to feel pressured to say anything. 

The new posture was convenient because it hid that he was starting to cry. He trembled with the effort to stay silent and mop his tears directly onto the new jeans that smelled like someone else’s laundry detergent..

He was being stupid. That was classic Danny. He hid things that didn’t need to be and he accidentally told people what should be secrets. Was he ever going to get it right? He should just tell them. Tell them! He tried to berate himself into working up the nerve but his jaw might as well have been wired shut in a morgue.

The bathroom went silent. Danny waited and waited for someone to say something. He frowned after a while even as he began to relax. Then he deliberately listened. 

It sounded like he was alone. 

It didn’t seem right, though. It took him a few moments to ping onto what he knew that disproved that. There was a warm, quiet presence about a foot to his left waiting patiently. It wasn’t quite ghostly, even though it was totally silent.

Danny sniffled on his next inhalation.

Cass didn’t say anything.

He lifted his head to see for certain that Bruce and Damian had left the room. They probably hadn’t gone far.

‘She must have asked them to get out when she came back.’

The room spun around him, blurred through his eyelashes. It might as well have been a dream. There was no harm in a dream.

“I need ectoplasm,” Danny admitted. Cass didn’t say anything or touch him. There was no pressure. He could float away if he wanted to. It was safe to admit it now. “That’s what I’m missing. And I can’t get it here. That’s why I came to Gotham. It’s not really easy to get on the living side of things. But Gotham is kinda liminal, so there’s some hotspots.” He paused. He wasn’t sure why. The air felt fragile.

Suddenly, he knew he didn’t want her to say anything yet. Danny swallowed and rushed on. “It’s, uh. What ghosts are made of.” His voice was so raspy that it didn’t even sound like him. “Jason has a lot, actually. But I don’t anymore. So. I need some.”

Cass leaned over very deliberately to put her arm over his shoulder. It was warm and real. The weight of it would keep him from floating away. He could feel the slight flex of her bicep muscles.

He swallowed. He leaned into her.

“We’ll get you what you need,” Cass promised. Simple as that.

[muzzledhoundsheart]

❧❧❧THE BEAST INSIDE YOUR WALLS❧

Pairing ❧ dark!Gwayne Hightower x (f)reader  

CW ❧ dubcon, blood, fingering (f), oral (m), p in v sex, m!dom, possible typos 

AN ❧ I hope you guys enjoy this one! I had a pretty hard time with deciding if I’m gonna post it or scrap it and work on it another time or completely rewrite it but I think it pulled itself together pretty well in the end. Also sorry for any typos of any kind, I edit everything myself and English is my second language so some stuff slips to the cracks real fast (always makes me want to die when I see it ahaha) 

Fog hung thick over the trees, weaving itself round the crowns, through every branch hanging like shawls. Or more like nooses, Gwayne thought to himself. Him and his men rode through the forrest for hours now, seemingly without an end in sight. At every corner they rounded they found the same scenery, all blurring into one. While he enjoyed the status of being a knight, the glitz and glam of tournaments, young ladies fawning over him and men respecting him. He hated days like these. The sweat in his armor running cold down his back, the uncomfortableness spreading further, seeping deep into his very bones. 

„I see a village there! “, one of his men shouts. Oh, thank the gods he thought. Finally, some rest. He just hopes to find a good meal, a warm bed and a pretty whore to end the day well with. He could see in his men that they were all thinking the same, or at least some variation of it. They were so close they could almost make out the houses now, when suddenly, a shrill scream echoed through the Forrest. The horses were on high alert and almost knocked their riders off. It wasn’t just a scream of fear, it ran much deeper. The men looked to Gwayne unsure of how to proceed. „Sounds like a fucking banshee.“, a shorter roundish man spat with a heavy drawl. „My father used to warn me about them screams in Forrests, they’re luring you in to skin you alive.“, another one said. „Oh horseshite it’s probably just a kid who ran off and now can’t find their way back, serves ´em little cunts right.“ What a troop of heroes, Gwayne thought to himself. 

He took a deep breath and stifled a sigh, „You go on, I shall see if the forrest nymphs truly are calling for me.“ He said with a boyish smirk adorning his lips. The men looked uneasy but accepted his order and started their journey anew. Just as Gwayne was about to turn around to ride deeper into the thicket again he heard another blood curdling scream. His brows furrowed and he gripped the reigns tighter, dashing towards the noise. The closer he seemed to get, the colder his sweat ran down his neck, his thoughts running rampant stringing together gruesome paintings of violence and agony. Another scream, and it sounded awfully close. He drew his sword and the muscles in his pale back pulled taught, shifting underneath his freckled skin and sending a rush of adrenaline through his veins. The sight before him was, however, not what he imagined. 

A young woman was desperately struggling to climb up a mangled tree, she gained some footage and pulled herself up another branch, pained grunts leaving her mouth and blood dripping from her arm and side — drip drip dripping down from the wounds running down to her naked toes. Beneath the tree stood two wolfs, blood and saliva dripping from their snouts, bubbling around the corners making them look rabid, hungry — starving. The wolves didn’t even care about the deafening noise the hooves of his humongous stallion made, no, they were set on her, having already had a taste of her sweet flesh, eager for more.

 Gwayne ceased the opportunity and aimed for one of the wolves, within a few strives he was close enough to slash the back of one of them, their head hanging on by what little sinew the sword didn’t quite reach. This, finally, caught the other wolf's attention and he growled at Gwayne, ready to tear into his horse, pull him off and rip him apart, piece by bloody piece. Gwayne was faster though, stabbing the wolf in it’s side on one swift motion, his sword cutting into the wolf like velvet, releasing a gut-wrenching whimper, the wolf folded into itself while blood spurted out of it’s wound and snout, until his eyes glossed over, and his labored breathing stopped. It was almost beautiful how such such a beastly being perishes so pathetically, he thought, almost forgetting about the woman still hanging desperately onto the rotting branches of the tree in front of him. „My Lady... I’m afraid the branch will break soon.“ 

It took some time for the woman to realize what just happened. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, her chest heaving up and down heavily. Taking in her appearance, now being close enough to do so, Gwayne noticed how she was dressed, a white thin linen dress, almost looking like a nightgown, with nothing else covering her shivering form. Furthermore, the dress was ripped in multiple spots and her blood blossomed into the fabric, spreading like a visceral garden over her attire. She held her side with one hand and Gwayne noticed that her dress was ripped around her breast as well, it laid openly naked above the hand holding her side. What a lucky man Gwayne was. „Thank- thank you Ser. By the gods thank you.“ She breathed out, her voice sounding hoarse and rough. Gwayne dismantled his horse, hiding his almost perverse smile behind this mundane display.

 He approached the tree and held out his hand for her. Standing tall in front of it, he was sure the woman could reach him if she crouched down. „Let me help, my Lady.“ He said in the softest voice he could muster in this moment, his lips stretching into a friendly, warm smile. If only she knew. The woman was still apprehensive but did eventually crouch down and let him aid her in climbing back down. When she was on a brach low enough, Gwayne cupped the back of her knee and hauled her into his arms. She let out a surprised yelp and blinked up at him through thick lashes. The woman was caked in grime and blood, sweat clung to her body like second skin, but she was beautiful, nonetheless. 

„You’re all good now.“, he said, slowly lowering her to the ground while steadying her. Her hand went to her torn dress, trying to hold it up to hide her bareness. Before words could leave her mouth, he already unbuckled his cape and draped it around her shivering form. „What a predicament you were in ,my Lady. If you let me, I would take you to the nearest village to have a healer look at your wounds.“ He said not letting his gentle hold on her shoulders go. His fingertips slowly wandered up and down the familiar fabric in a soothing matter. „I would owe you my life, Ser.“, she haughtily breathed out.

 He was sure she’s lost enough blood to barely be conscious, especially now that the adrenaline is steadily leaving her body. His face contorted into a look of concern, „I might have to look at your wounds now and tend to them as best as I can. Forgive me but you’re looking awfully pale, my Lady.“ She let out an amused sound at that. „You might as well do it now, yes.“ she was swaying, on the cusp of fainting. Gwyane knelt down in front of her, slowly bunching up her skirt. The wound in her side wasn’t as bad as he initially thought, he got up again and assured the woman that he was only getting one of his satchels off his horse. He then proceeded to clean her wounds, dressing them in cloth and sending her assuring looks through his copper lashes. The woman felt like she was dreaming, being saved by such a beautiful kind man. 

He looked like a knight from a fairytale, his face was carved out of ivory, his eyes like the stormy waters that ran through the land and his copper hair falling around his cheekbones framing his pretty face. He got up again, wiping his hands on a cloth, discarding it after by dropping the bloodied cloth back into the satchel. „That should do it for now.“, he said. The woman was still dazed and looked at him as if he was a prince of the realm. „I cannot thank you enough.“ She expressed grasping tighter onto his cloak. „ Not to worry, my Lady, i have to wonder however you got yourself in this situation though.“. She looked flustered and diverted her eyes. „I was visiting my brother to take care of him, the cold got to him and i was afraid he wouldn’t make it out alive on his own. I thought taking the route through the forrest would get me home quicker, how foolish of me.“ 

Foolish indeed Gwayne thought to himself, stifling a grin. „I could offer you a bed for tonight as my thanks, Ser.“, her eyes lit up saying that, and Gwayne almost felt bad for how genuine she looked. It was rare to find someone seemingly believing in the simple kindness of man nowadays. He also wondered if she knew just what she implied with her statement, well he surely wouldn’t mind if that was what she was thinking of. Just the thought brought a shiver down his skin straight to his cock, it has been so long since he got to indulge himself after-all. „I would happily accept, my Lady“ he took her small shivering hand in his and brought it to his lips. She looked like she was about to faint again and before she started swaying, he decided to steady her with his arm around her waist. The woman stole many glances at him, and his breast swelled with pride — arrogance. He was sure he got kissed by Lady Luck tonight. 

He helped her mount his house and put her legs over his, one arm caging her in, so she „will be safe with him.“. They started trotting towards the small village nearby, her directions were surely helpful, making them arrive sooner than he anticipated.

They rode through a small marketplace coming across some of his men pointing him out to what seemed to be their bedwarmers for the night. Shouts of his heroism were heard, and the roundish man yelled „Not a banshee then ,aye?“. The woman then led him the way to a small hut. Nothing special really, made of wood and stone and mud. It looked solid — just — with greenery not only surrounding it but winding itself into every nook and cranny. They unmounted and she, still shaky on her feet, let him inside the small hut. 

His heavy boots stomped down on the creaky floor as he took his surroundings in; it was…homely. Certainly homely. A small kitchen met a big cozy bed draped in different fabrics and knit blankets. Books and various other items were strewn about, but it looked like it had a system at least. „You may take the bed and I will get you something to freshen up.“. Gwayne looked to her and swiftly grasped her wrist „I would rather claim my reward now, my Lady“. „I’m not sure what you mean.“ Her heartbeat quickened; she couldn’t have been so blind could she? He towered over her taking steps forward until both reached one of the wooden clad walls. She felt as if her flesh would freeze off, needles and pins spreading all over her body, her stomach in knots. „Remove my cloak“. All kindness vanished from his voice. She was staring at him, frozen in time. Cold cold cold fear encompassing her. „Now.“ he almost growled. 

Shaking hands reached up to open the claps, the thick fabric pooling around her still bare and bloodied feet. His eyes raked over her form, half naked and quivering before him. So delicious. His hand reached out to her, making her flinch away hard. This made his cock twitch, hard and wanting in his breeches. He moved quick and ripped the already torn dress to complete shreds. The cloth fell off her breasts entirely and he could almost make out her rapid heartbeat through her chest. The quick — thump thump thump — spurring him on even more. 

Gwayne’s hands found solace on her ribcage, his calloused thumbs slowly tracing the underline of her breasts, making her nipples pebble. The motion was almost soothing but her it felt like a predator seizing up his prey, installing fear in it and calculation their next move. She didn’t dare to breathe which he took note of — it made him chuckle. A deep rumble coming out of his chest. „I wont hurt you“. 

Liar.

She knew he would, they both did. His hands now cupping her breasts, clutching them tightly, pinching and pulling at her flesh. Small gasps left her mouth and she never felt more vulnerable than in this moment. He dipped his head to her level, copper strands kissing his cheekbones. His right hand followed her clavicles, up the tendons on her neck and settled on her throat. The pressure applied made her lightheaded. „Why don’t you sing my praises, huh, your great hero deserves more than this don’t you think?“ She wanted to bite that smug smirk off his face.

 It felt like he could sense what she thought, and he chose to attack first. His lips captured hers in a searing kiss. Gwayne’s tongue slipped into her mouth and he tasted every part of her. When they finally parted, her breaths were labored, chest heaving and saliva coated the bottom of her face, strings of it connecting them like a wet spider web. He kissed her again and again, growing more aggressive with each one, biting and pulling at her lips and tongue until she tasted the iron now coating their lips. She was ashamed of herself for how wet she’s gotten. Wetness slowly running down the inside of her thighs, as she felt how hard and wanting Gwayne has gotten himself. 

While Gwayne was biting and shucking at the juncture of her throat he ripped the last shreds of her gown hanging around her hips apart, leaving her completely exposed to his hungry eyes. Goosebumps littered her body as the cold air hit her skin, which was a welcome distraction from Gwayne’s searing touch, dipping lower and lower. He reached her mount and and slid a single finger between her folds. His lips breathed hot against her cheek „What a tight little cunt“, he moaned as he sunk his finger deep inside her. She wanted to run away, call for help and have him beheaded, but in this moment the coil winding itself in her stomach craved him to keep going, to do more. And do more he did. Another finger slipped into her — two long slender fingers stretching her tight wetness out in fluid motions. His paced steadily increased and he looked like he was about to rip her chest open with his teeth. Her breast heaving into his face and sweat slowly dripping into his face. He licked a long stripe up her artery and bit down, just hard enough to force a strangled groan out of her bruised lips. 

She was burning from the inside out from shame — it felt so delicious, being mauled alive. Just as she was about to completely lose herself in the pleasure, he withdrew his hand. „Get on your knees“, he commanded breathless and harsh. Her eyes refocused on him, and he sunk down, big, clouded eyes fixed on the flushed head of his cock. She didn’t even notice that he partially undressed himself. „Open“, he said as his thumb pressed down on her plump lower lip and hand wrapping around her throat again, much tighter this time. He ran the tip of his leaking cock along the edge if her teeth, finding great amusement in it. Even if she were to bite him, he could snuff her out in seconds. „Don’t tell me you don’t know what to do now, you’re definitely not a maiden,“ She was — but he didn’t need to know. She’s heard enough tales from friends and the brothel workers scurrying about the market when they found the time.

Light-headed form the lack of oxygen and limited in her movement she began running her tongue along his cock. Up and down the head, following a prominent vein slithering along the underside of it. Gwayne groaned and pulled her in by the throat. She sputtered around him, his cock reaching deep into her throat now. He left her no time to catch a breath, moving his hips in a fast irregular rhythm. „That’s it, take it“, he breathed out. His cock slipping in and out her mouth faster with every thrust. Spit dripped down his sack as cradled her head against his pelvis bone. Her eyes rolled up her skull and he swore he would have a corpse around his pulsating cock any minute now. Showing some mercy, he released her, and she gulped down deep breaths of air — coughing them right back out again. Her teary eyes looked longingly at his cock, bobbing and pulsating still, thick drops of precum dripping onto the hard wooden floor. Before she could do much of anything he leaned down and seized her by her claves. Pulling her, with her back on the floor now, closer to him. 

His hands pawed at her thighs and trapped fistfuls of plush fat for leverage. Her lower half hung in the air, and he had a full view of her creaming cunt. Gwayne halted for a short moment, asking himself if he wanted to taste her first, lick up the viscous fluids of her drooling cunt, dripping onto the floor. He discarded the idea and chose to position his cock at her entrance. In one harsh thrust he was inside of her, setting a brutal pace. The small hut was filled with wet slapping noises, moans and groans. Gwayne fucked her as if he intended on killing her. Her body like putty in his string hands and her cunt growing hotter and tighter around his swollen cock. He crouched down lower and threw one of her legs over his shoulder, rutting so deep into her she swore she would never be able to feel whole again without his cock in her. Her desperate whimpers turned into incoherent screams. They ran down deep into Gwayne’s bones and spurred him on as he felt his release coming. His final thrusts were brutal, kissing her cervix and bruising her pelvic bone in it’s wake. He grabbed her throat again and squeezed as his sack tightened and he released hot spurts of thick cum into her womb. They both stayed like this for many moments. He could still feel her walls convulsing around his softening cock, her soft hands laying atop his around her throat, wordlessly begging to release her. When he did, her body fell to the ground with a thud. Her legs still open, arms crossed above her head and her wounds weeping again. Sweat, blood and cum dripping out of her and mingling into a visceral painting of lust. Gwayne brushed his damp hair out of his face and slowly redressed. How he wished to paint the scene before him to take with him out on the battlefields. Alas — he grabbed his sword and pointed it down at her belly, slowly tracing a line up between her breasts and resting below her chin. „I don’t want any red-headed bastards running around, make sure to take care of it.“. „I-i will, don’t worry.“ He nodded curtly and threw her one last glance before leaving her hut. Her heart was still beating like a rabbit running away from a pack of wolves. She hoped the beast would trace her scent and find his way to her again soon.

[axelsagewrites]

Sandor Clegane*Brat

Pairing: sandor x f!princess!reader

Kinktober Day twenty-three: brat taming with Sandor Clegane – after growing sick of a princess’s bratty attitude Sandor decides to teach her how to behave

Word count: 2147

Warnings: brat taming, secret relationship, teasing, reader being a brat, jamie slut shaming, fingering, p in v sex, rough sex, spanking, degrading, swearing, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

Your footsteps were somehow both silent and quicker than his horses, something Sandor loathed as he chased about after you. being your personal guard was apparently an honour however the past two years of this honour made him consider if locking princesses in a tower was still socially acceptable.

While sure you had your moments of being tolerable, sometimes even pleasant, to the giant they called your guard dog, right now was not one of them. Usually, he appreciated your sarcastic remarks to your younger brother Joffrey, agreeing with most of your snippy quips, however today it had led to a fight between you both.

This then led to you storming around the castle, with Sandor falling behind, then to a fight with your mother which Sandor had to listen to through a door despite being absolutely starving, then when he could finally go and eat you decided to go on a walk through the forest unannounced and he had to track you down and bring you back.

“Try not to get lost again princess,” Sandor said through gritted teeth, trying not to let his stomach grumble.

You rolled your eyes as you sat on your love seat in front of the fire. “I was never lost. You just couldn’t find me,”

Sandor rolled his eyes as he went to leave however Jamie fucking Lannister decided to stop him. “The queens requested for you to stay in this room and guard the princess,”

“What about my fucking break?” Sandor spat back, not having the same gentle voice as your uncle.

“Well, it will have to wait. There are Dornish ambassadors riding into court and we cannot risk her getting…lost again,” Jamie said, and you couldn’t help stifling a laugh making Sandor want to fling you out of a window. Jamie leaned in closer, whispering to Sandor and getting his slimy breath all over him, “Prince Oberyn is coming, and we cannot risk her sullying her reputation,” he said however only Sandor was able to hear him.

“But me staying in her room all night is fine?”

Jamie looked the hound up and down before putting on his most cunty smile, “Don’t worry. I don’t think anyone will question your activities. Goodnight Clegane, best behaviour princess,” Jamie called to you before leaving, the door slamming behind him.

Sandor Groaned as he began to strip off his cloak. Like fuck was he gonna be kitted up all night in this. “What did he whisper?” you asked, reaching over to grab a grape. Sandor couldn’t tell if the way you popped it in his mouth made him more hungry, horny, or fucking angry.

“Prince Oberyn is coming to court,” Sandor said as he tossed his cloak on a chair, “So I’ve to guard you all night so you don’t go falling in his bed,”

Most women would gasp or swoon or deny the accusation, but you just barked out a laugh. It was another one of your few redeeming qualities in Sandors eyes. “How much of a whore does he think I am?” you joked, picking up your wine.  Sandor stomped over to the table, snatching the wine from your grip before plopping down in a chair. “Hey!”

“Hay is for horses,” he grumbled, gulping down the wine, “You’ve been a fucking brat all day, the least you owe me is a drink,”

“My, my, swearing in front of a lady, a princess no less,” you tsked at him as Sandor began to unbuckle his armour, “Not very honourable of you ser,”

“I’m no ser,” he said, discarding the battered metal as he reached for the next piece, “And besides I’ve done far less honourable things to you than curse in front of you,” this was of course his favourite quality in his princess. Even when you annoyed him to his core you were still the best fuck he’s ever had. “Fuck you’ve said worse things than I have,”

“Like what?”

“You know what,” he chuckled, beginning to undo his breast plate which would leave him in just a shirt and trousers. “You and that dirty mouth of yours,” he said, thinking back to all the thoughts and whimpers you’d moaned in his ear.

He did his best not to meet your eyes as they travelled down his frame, “Watcha gonna do about it?” however sent a spark down his spine. Prince Oberyn was not the one they should be worried about sullying your reputation.

Sandor dropped the metal breast plate, ignoring the clatter in made as it hit the floor as he moved to stand in front of you. his hand gripped your jaw, easily holding your whole face as he made you look him in the eye, “Don’t test me princess. You’re already on thin fucking ice,”

“Why would I want to be on ice when I could be on your…” you said, eyes trailing down his frame with a fiery spark.

He growled as his lips smashed into yours for a brief kiss that knocked the air out of your lungs. He broke the kiss, pushing your frame back into the love seat making you gasp. Within seconds his boots were off, and his arm was around your waist, hosting you over his shoulder making you squeal. Your back hit the soft bed as you desperately tried to sit up, but he was already on top of you.

“How expensive is this dress?” he asked, his fingers trailing the neckline.

“Your annual salary,” you replied and gasped when a tear ripped through the air, “Sandor!” you gasped as the cold air washed over your bare chest, your nipples perking at the feeling.

He’d ripped it just enough to be able to pull it off your body without having to hassle with any ties or laces, “Please as if you wont just pout and get a new one,” he scoffed.

“I don’t pout!” you objected, now feeling more exposed under his hungry eyes.

Sandor laughed, his eyes moving from your tits back to your face, “All you do is pout princess. All fucking day,” he said, his hand cupping your jaw as his thumb tracked over your pouted lip, “And all day I’ve been having to look at these fucking lips,” he said, his thumb prying open your mouth so he could stick his thumb inside, pressing down on your tongue, “and think about how much better they’d look around my cock,”

His words sent a shiver down your spine that didn’t go unnoticed by Sandor. “Is someone excited?” he asked, his hand gripping your thigh before slipping between them. His fingers trailed up your slit and you felt his chest rumble as he chuckled, “So wet for me already,” he said, his smile dropping for a moment, “Suck,” he commanded.

Instantly you complied, sucking on his thumb and trying not to whine as he rubbed slow circles on your clit, “Good girl,” his head dipped, moving to kiss along your collar bones as his thumb slipped from your mouth. He rubbed the spit over your bottom lip before his hand moved to tilt your jaw up, giving him space to kiss softly up your neck.

You bit your lip, slight whimper escaping as he worked on your bundle of nerves. When his fingers slipped away you whined but gasped when you felt him push two in, “Cmon don’t act like you cant take it,” he chastised, nipping at your skin enough to make you gasp but never to leave a mark, “I’ve seen you take far bigger,” he said, grinding his bulge against your leg to emphasis what was to come.

His fingers began to curl slowly inside as his thumb rested over your clit. When you whined again, this time louder and enough to make his cock twitch in his trousers, he moved his other mouth to clamp over your mouth, “Quiet,” he grumbled, curling his fingers deeper making you moan against his hand, “You know the rules princess,”

You nodded, meeting his eyes for a moment before they shut as his fingers began to brush against a familiar spot. You could feel your peak soon arriving but when you felt him pull his fingers out not even his hand could fully cover the loud whine you made. “Gods you really are a desperate thing,” he chastised, his hands moving to squeeze your hips tightly.

Before you could protest, he’d flipped you on your stomach, hand coming down on your ass leaving a stinging slap. “Hey!” you whined only to be met with another slap.

“Behave,” he chastised, keeping one hand on your ass, fondling it as the other moved to push down his breeches, “Maybe if you behave I’ll let you finish around my cock,” he said, gripping it with one hand and with the other forcing you onto your knees, ass presented perfectly for him, “Bet you’d like that wouldn’t you? me fucking you silly like some whore,” he said, running his tip up and down your wet cunt making you whine.

Instead of responding you grabbed a pillow, moving to lay your face in it when Sandor suddenly grabbed your hair, “I asked you a fucking question,” he growled, his tip pushing in slightly as your back arched.

“Yes,” you stuttered out.

“Yes what?” he asked, pulling your hair tighter, pushing slightly further in.

“Yes, I want your cock please I need it,” you whined, your hips trying to move further back onto to be stopped by Sandor, “Please I’ll be good,”

Sandor let go of your hair, your body lurching forward as you fell back into the pillow, “Wonder when I’ve heard that before,” he grunted, his hands moving to squeeze the soft flesh of your ass refusing to push his tip any further in.

“I promise,” you whined, gripping at the pillow, “I’ll behave I promise I-fuck,” you whined as you felt his cock sink further in.

Sandor hissed as he felt your cunt squeeze around him as he pushed his way in till he felt himself fully inside. He left one more slap to your ass, smirking at the way you bit the pillow instead of protesting at the stinging slap, before he started to set a steady pace.

His thrusts were slow and precise at first, making your whole-body lurch forward as he fucked you and your fingers tightened in the sheets. He could hear the stifled whines you let out and reached forward to grab your hair once more, this time gentler as he turned your head till the pillow muffled your mouth. Before you could question him, you moaned into the fabric as his pace began to quicken.

His slow thrusts had turned into heavy pounds that shook your body and made a knot grow in your stomach. His spare hand moved to squeeze your hip one more time before slipping forward to rub fast circles onto your clit. His grunts and groans were like music to your ears as your legs began to quake but falling was not an option.

Sandor cursed at the way your cunt squeezed around his cock, sucking in breath as he screwed his eyes shut. Despite how hard it was for him not to finish right there he had a job to do. He bit his lip, opening his eyes to appreciate the sight beneath him.

He could hear your muffled moans through the pillow and felt the way your body jerked and squeezed around him. “Aw is my little princess gonna cum?” he teased, his thrusts growing harder, “does she deserve to cum around my cock?” he asked but your response was muffled. Sandor pulled your hair, lifting your mouth up from the pillow, “I asked you a question,”

“Please sir,” you moaned like music to his ears, “Fuck please let me please,” you begged.

“Do it then,” he grunted, shoving your face back into the pillow, “Cum around my cock like a good whore,” his words were all it took to push you over the edge as your peak crashed around you.

However, this was not going to make him stop. Instead, his thrusts became harder and less precise as he fucked you mercilessly chasing his high while you rode yours out with eyes rolled back into your skull. It didn’t take long for him to feel the familiar twitch and suddenly pull out. With only two more jerks his seed spilled across your ass as his eyes screwed shut. “Fuck,” he gasped once he felt he could breathe again. Gently he moved his arms to lay you down on the bed.

You were too busy catching your breath to notice him searching for something till you felt him running a damp cloth over your ass to clean you up. “Still think I’m a brat?” you asked, still trying to catch your breath.

“Fuck yes. But you’re my brat,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy  @valeskafics

[k0k0-library]

MDNI: Your love? Our love, comrade!

Pairing: Il Capitano x F!reader Fandom: Genshin Impact Rating: 18+ Warnings: mature, smut, death, death mentions, corruption kink? or just corruption, power abuse, mentioned necrophilia if you squint your eyes real tight and tilt your head, free use, somnophilia

You are the traveller by the way. And I don't know how to write

Snezhnaya is a frigid and unwelcoming region. Snowstorm after snowstorm, frozen rain after frozen rain... and the enemies you encounter... are far more powerful than anything you faught before. The iced mitachurls from Dragon Spine seem like children or babies in comparison. You missed them, they were easy to overcome. Even the infuriating Capybara Boss from Natlan that could one-shot you was better than Il Capitano. The first of the Fatui Harbingers, the strongest man in the whole of Teyvat, him who destroyed his vision and faught the god of skill for days until he achieved victory was nothing weak. Not in the slightest.

"You were supposed to be so much more powerful, traveller. Such a pitty, really. I was looking forward to fight with you after that stunt you pulled with Mavuika..." The taller man's voice echoed in the icy abis of the forest clearing. The frozen, forest clearing mind you. The ground was slippery and it made you loose balance, whereas he was in his natural habitat. He was used to fighting in the snow. Your trusty companion rushed to your aid.

"But I am no brute, my dear. You are terribly hurt already, rest. If you do not have a place to shelter from the snow, you and Paimon are welcomed to join me at my platoon's main courts."

Was he genuinely being nice, or was this a Fatui Trap-

"We have food there" You weren't even hungry before he mentioned food, but your stomach slightly grumbled. You heard an even louder sound of need. "We are in!" You heard Paimon say rapidly, as she flew closer to the Captain. Sometimes, it was a wonder how she survived until now, so trusting of anyone who offered good food and shelter, a story and companionship... but again, she stuck with you longer than with anyone else. She even gave up food for you, but I digress.

"It seems your friend has made the decision for you. Come, my horse is tied not far from here." Capitano started to walk down a snowy path, his previous footprints still slightly visible. You walked behind him, with Paimon. You slightly nudged the small fairy and whispered in her ear.

"Do you really think we can trust him?" "Stop worrying! Paimon remembers he was very caring with us when we were in Natlan!"

Well she wasn't wrong per se. The first Fatui Harbinger was a cold and calculated man that most time let his blade do the talking; but he was a gentle soul, a true knight that held respect and care for even the tiniest beings in Teyvat. He had honour, that is why he did not let you continue fighting him when he realised you challanged him while still being injured from a snowed-korvin... one of the most brutal enemies in Snezhnaya.

"Paimon, I have a bad feeling about this..." "Paimon will watch him very closely and protect you from the big bad harbinger!"

She emphasised this by flexing her arms through her coat. The captain let out a huff of a chuckle, knowing full well about Paimon's pride without even glancing at her. "Ah, it is most admirable of you, tiny one. But I promise I will behave around your friend." Capitano said as the image of a huge Lavian Horse came in closer.

The Lavian was a horse type specially bread to withstand cold. They were big, emanating heat through their stone-like skin. They had little fur, mostly around their glossy black hoves. Theis blood was like lava, the veins visible from the cracks in the skin. Their manes often composed of fine and long hairs.

Capitano's horse was a particularly warm one, very warm. And its maine and tail were braided short to be easier to move in the snow. "My Kan is very skiddish, try not to move too quickly around him." A scardy horse belonging to such a mean, big-bad Fatui? This was not something you see everyday. But, nevertheless you listened to him and waited patienlty for him to untie Kan, as he called the horse. Capitano got on, helped you up in front of him and Paimon rested in one of the bags wrapped to the saddle, falling asleep almost instantly.

"Your companion seems very tired" You said nothing as he urged the mount to start its slow walk to the camp. "Not much of a talker with me? You can trust me, I do not bite pretty women such as yourself" You cringed a little at his statement. If it weren't for your leg injury, you would've faught and maybe won. Hopefully won... ok no, you would've lost like a child when fighting a tiger.

Your toughts were cut short as one of his arms wrapped around you, pulling you in closer to not fall. "Steady, traveler. The last thing you need is to faceplant in the snow. I don't want you sick on top of being injured. A korvin slashed your leg, as I can tell."

You wanted to pull away from his grasp and take Paimon and leave, but you couldn't. You couldn't fight him off, even when he had an arm lightly wrapped around you. You just realised how strong this man really was. "Yes. I hate them, the korvins"

"Hm... likewise. I once encountered a wild korvin in my youth. I still have the scar, I believe." "Can I see it?"

What were you thinking, asking him to see his scar like that? It was very unusual, he was your enemy. More than a rival, more than a bad guy, more than someone standing in your way to finding your brother. You felt a weird warmth in your stomach as his hand traveled lower and lifted your short coat slightly. "You are going to he ok, I don't sense any poisoning. Meaning it was a raised korvin, not a wild one." Fuck, those big, rough, warm hands of his. They made you think things that you never thought about. Not even with Childe in his Foul Legacy form.

---------------

You woke up as he nudged you. You had arrived at the camp, but it was very quiet. Too quiet. Where were the others- wait... When did you even fall asleep in his arms? It must've been somewhere around the middle of the journey. You were tired and cold, and in need of so much sleep and rest. "Easy, traveller. You had a bad dream..." He got off Kan and tied him by the stable, then gently scooped you up and held you in his arms close to him for a moment. Like a child.

"Stay close, and do not wonder off in the camp too much. My men must be in a miscellenious arrand for the Tssaritsa at the moment."

He was so gentle while setting you down. His gestures and care made you blush in ways you never thought a man can make you feel. Capitano thengently took Paimon out of the bag. "You too, tiny one. Wake up" He nudged her cheek with his finger but she was snoring deeply. You took her in your arms. "Paimon sleeps like a log, I'll take her"

The First Fatui Harbinger nodded slightly before taking you to his den. It was big enough to fit a makeshift bedding made of an ample collection of soft, feathery pillow and heavy, warm blankets; a chest that kept archon knows what and a small table. "You will be bedded here, both you and Paimon, as you call the little fae. Now as for your wound..." His voice trailed as he moved to the chest and pulled out an oinment and some bandages.

Was he... offering to patch you up for real? No ill intention, no nothing- "Do put Paimon down and lay too. It will be easier for me to tend to your leg. And please... never challange korvins again. They are horrible."

Carring, considerate, concerned. He was actually a nice person. Capitano moved with care in lifting your leg warmer further up ypur thigh, his gloved hands so big and rough in contrast with the way he trailed them. You were staring at this man's hands, like the weirdo you were. He took the gloves off for only a moment to put the oinment on your wound and you saw something peculliar. His skin was darck and ashy, almost black with sploches of fair tones to it and his veins glowing blue.

You saw this before... On Deinslief. His skin was decaying just the same. No... even more. He seemed to be in a more advanced state than Dein, but he did not complain of tiredness or pain like the blone did sometimes. "You need not concern yourself. The rotting of my flesh ceased at some point and it is not contagious, like many believed."

"It's not that-" "Then?" "Why are you helping me...?

Capitano dagged the soothing cream on your wound as he sighed. "You entered battle already wounded and I fear that I cannot fight you wounded. It would be shameful and ungracious of a knight to fight a wounded lady" He tightlighy wrapped your leg with bandages before putting your leg warmer back in place. So he really was just that obsessed aver rightfulness that he would help his adversary? Why was it kinda hot-

"Thank you..." "No need, cara mia"

Paimon finally woke up as Capitano put his gloves back on, grogily and hungry. Your companion noticed you were taken care of and relluctantly thanked the harbinger as well. The two of you were left alone in the den as he went to patrol around the are and see if his men were near. After all, he needed to tell them about your presence beforehand. This way, he will avoid future conflicts, whishfully.

---------------

Late at night, around a huge bonefire, everyone stood in a circle. Capitano and his small platoon, you Paimon. The fire warmed your heart and danced high in the nightsky. Your eyes were hurting each time you bore into the heat for too long, making you blink long and slow. Capitano noticed and one of his hands gently tipped your head to lean on his side, thinking you were just too tired to wait for the stew to be ready.

In the short distance you heard Paimon talking to the on-duty cook, telling him about the different foods she tried until now, drawing more attention to herself from the gourmands in the team. "You can rest, cara mia. I will wake you when they are finished." You wanted to protest and tell him you were not tired. What the hell, you were no child! You were a very big and independed woman, thank you very much.

Yet you couldn't deny that the fur of his coat was extremely cozy and warm... Or was it his body that was so warm? Maybe not. After all a decaying body should be cold and frigid like the Abyss Monsters and not warm and inviting. Maybe the pile of blankets was not only to keep warm at night, but to keep warm to his heart because he was slowly dying... The thought made you shudder. Seeing you, Capitano's hand moved to caress the small of your back.

"Cold, traveller?" "A little bit... But when I think how cold you must feel, it makes me feel better"

Ah, that didn't sound quite right. That sounded rude. Did he think you're rude? Did you- Your thoughts ware interrupted by a deep, rumbling chuckle of his " You are hillarious, little girl. I don't know what world you come from, but you and your friend do know how to lighten the mood. And for your concern," He leaned closer to your ear "I am not so dead as people might think I am"

You blushed, you didn't know why. Certainly what the first harbinger said was not blush worthy, yet you still did it. Of course, you blamed it on the heat of the fire as soon as he inquier you about it. You were an odd pair, but you did look cute together in situations like this.

The food was finally ready and everyone got a healthy portion of stew with sweet buns on the side, "How can such a tiny fary eat so much?!" You heard some of the poeple say and mutter as they watch Paimon eat her second helping. The cook was just happy to see someone so eager to eat his food and like it so much. And it was Paimon, a very well known picky eater. If his food were to her standards, then he could die happy right now.

After dinner everyone was retrieting to their dens. "Aren't you going to sleep?" You asked Capitano, confused to why he was not coming to the den.

"You go before me. I want to make sure the fire did not attract any wolven giants or other mutts. The Snezhnayan frozen forests are not for the weak, cara mia."

You had to admire his dedication to keeping everyone safe. He was a good captain- no... he was a wonderful man. you slowly went to the den, looking back at him every now as then, your heart skipping abeat whenever you saw his dark silouhette in the glow of the moon. He was beautiful, he was kind to you and Paimon. Deep down, you wanted to hurt yoursself again only to prelong this period of peace and care in your life and postpone your battle with him.

As the night got darker and darker, a snow storm started. You were growing anxious as he did not come back yet. You glanced around the den just to make sure: only Paimon fast asleep and wrapped in a fuzzy blanket like a burrito. You helped her with her 'anti snezhnaya cocoon'. You wanted to laugh really, she was such a pure and fun person... but you were too concerned. What if he's cold, what if something got to him. Just when you made up your mind to leave, he entered the den, snow falling from his coat, helmet and boots.

"I saw the light from outside" he wispered "you did not had to wait for me, you need rest" "I cannot sleep if you are not here, Capitano"

You could swear he was smiling under his helmet. He took off his coat and boots sitting next to you. Almost imediately, you wanted to jump in his arms and feel him closer, cuddle with him. But you didn't want to yet. "Just go to sleep, Y/N. I am not tired yet-" You cut him off, tilting your head enough to allow you to kiss him with his helmet still on. Capitano held your waist tightly with his big hands, holding you closer to him.

"What a good little girl I have...." He muttered as he pulled away. "But I am serious. Go to sleep..."

His voice was always so deep and calm, like a distant rumble in his chest. He was just so- "If you listen to me, I will give you what you want"

---------------

The morning was a particularly cold one. Paimon woke up first and womdered around the cook to pester him some more, as Capitano waited in the den for you to wake up. Thankfully, he did not had any missions or tasks today, so he could lose it with you. But was it really considered lost time if he loved it? If he loved you? But his patience was not endless, you know? And you looked so beautiful while sleeping, your skin soft and warm under his touch - he needed you. now, right now.

Capitano moved to the enterance of the den, secuting it closed so no one from the outside could open it, say Paimon. Lat thing he needed was that bubbly fae seeing what he will do to you. He gently took off the covers from you, seeing you shivver in your sleep. The den was warm enough, but the overheat that you created by hiding under all those blankets made you accustomed to heat.

"Cara mia... my little treasure you have no idea what you do to me... You make me feral!" He growled lowly, his gloved hand moving to the hem of your pants and slowly pulling them off, making sure you didn't woke up just yet. "So precious, so clueless. You fell in my hands like a little bunny."

He massaged your thighs for a bit, just taking in your body, like he was savouring a rare wine rather than touching the person he loved. He wanted to take his time and make sure he got your body memorised. He wanted to know what made you click, what made you, you. "I will take care of you, I will protect you and I will breed you, my little bunny" He hungrily ripped your panties off you, noticing that even in your sleep you were wet.

Were you such a slut that you had wet dreams about him just as he was touching you? Tsk, tsk, we can't have that. We can't leave out sweet girl alone and frustrated in her sleep now, can we? The harbinger leaned closer to you and looked at the nape of your neck. He didn't dare to mark you just yet, he can't ruin that perfectly soft skin of yours, not without permission from you. One of his gloved hands moved between your legs and settled right on your heated core.

What a hypocrite he was... But he already knew you wanted him, so his sins were going to be forgiven. His thumb roughly pressed against your clit, rubbing slow circles around it. Capitano made you gasp and wake up this way, your spidered view taking in the image before you in haze. "Hush, my love. You just close your eyes and let me take care of you"

He continued to work his way around your clit for a while before prodding your vagina with the pad of his finger. You couldn't, or better said, didn't want to do more than lay there and moan softly as he finally pushed a finger in. Capitano started to finger you softly at first, like it was your first time being touched like this by a man. And even if it wasn't he wanted to make you remember him as being better than anyone else, more caring, more loving of you.

"P-Please, I need you~" "Patience, my little one. I still need to stretch you out-" "Don't care! Need you...." You muttered as you cut him off. So rude, but he couldn't really blame you. He did have an efect on people.

He finally listened to your requests and you saw the harbinger shift his weight off you for a little bit. You were still so tired, your eyelids felt so heavy as you fluttered your eyelashed a bit. You closed your eyes for only a second, you swore! But you quickly opened them and claws at his back as he pushed in you.

He wasn't lying, he was big. Capitano's patience was already thin from waitin gfor you to wake up but he knew better than to start now. His dick touched you in all the right places. You whimpered and moaned for him to move. "Anything my little girl wants~" He growled in your ear and began to slowly pull his hips back and press them against your roughly again.

A hand was on your hip, sqeezing it tightly to emphasize his power over you, as his other arm lightly caressed your hceeck. His eyes bored into your soul, staring down into your core as he continued to make love to you. He felt so warm aginst you, he way right. 'not that dead yet'. His pace quickened, earning more whiny moans from you.

"Capitano, please! Please! I-i need to-" "Shh~ just let me take you"

And take you he did. As you tightened around him and came with a loud moan, he planted himself deep in you and spill his warmth in, painting the walls of your vagina white. Even if he was a fucking decaying corpse, you'd still want him... 'not that dead yet' you kept repeating yourself in your head.

"You are devine, my sweet~" He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, lazily pulling the covers over the both of you. "How about we sleep some more....?"

[i-cant-sing]

Salauddin screaming and THROWING UP because Princess reader won't stop picking up stray animals from outside and bringing them into her bedroom because "it's too hot for them outside ;( " "you said my room was the coolest soo..."

on the contrary, Salauddin himself is an animal lover. They're Allah's creations that cannot speak, that cannot ask for help, they're just vulnerable. He cares for his horses very greatly, no expenses are spared for the their stables, their caretakers and the best medicine from around the world. The pain of thirst, its one of the worst ways to dies, so Salauddin makes sure no one in his kingdom ever goes to sleep hungry or thirsty, humans or animals. He's had special water systems and pots designed practically everywhere in Egypt so birds and dogs and other animals get to drink their fill.

BUT as much as Salauddin cares for animals, he doesnt... exactly appreciate his palace turning into a zoo because of all the animals you keep bringing in. Its kinda his fault really. All Salauddin did was get a pretty white kitten that had blue eyes- it was so cute, so he gifted it to you. When you asked him why, he couldnt say that its because the cute kitten reminded him of you. So he said that it was too hot outside for small animals like Fatima (as you had named her) and he saw the realisation dawn in your eyes as you looked out at the pyramids, nodding your head along.

Salauddin sighed in irritation as he felt something furry rubbing against his legs. He looked down under his desk to see a black kitten with green eyes- Bilal. You took him in and said "but Salauddin! Fatima is all alone and she needs a playmate! Besides, Bilal is bullied by the street kids cause he's black and they think that he was a jinn!" You used such excuses to adopt 3 more cats (Mustafa, Haider, Zahra) and now you spend dressing them in cute hijabs- yes even the males.

He picked up the black cat and tickled his chin as he began making his way towards your- or what used to be your room. On his way, he passed by servants chasing after your chickens- Emir, Ahmed and Riyaan.

The doors opened as he entered, the room was in complete chaos. Feathers were falling down as birds flew around the room with the maids hot on their tails. Your cats were resting in one corner with your dogs- Shams and Talia standing guard over them. And you? You were in the center of all this chaos, sitting on the ground with a pet sheep- Mihirmah in your arms as you sheared it carefully. You had found her last night on your way home, not even bothering to ask if you could keep her along with your rest of the petting zoo.

Then again, why would his wife need to ask him? Whats his, is yours.

He walked over and sat down beside you and you finally looked up.

"I found Bilal." He stated, petting the kitten that nuzzled his face against him. You smiled sweetly at him. "Thank you! I was so busy with Mihirmah, I didnt realise he had left. I think he escaped when they took the chicks out for a walk."

He hummed before nodding his head at the sheep. "And how many that makes it now?"

"One." "Y/n." He deadpanned. "Well, one sheep. In total, 52 animals."

"Y/n." He looked at you in disbelief. "How- what- it was 45 last week." You looked at him sheepishly. "Well... its not my fault, really. You see- um, well you know how we thought Shams and Talia were just siblings? I think they were confused and um, Talia just gave birth to 6 pups." You avoided his eyes as he stared at you.

"Y/n-"

"I am not getting rid of them, Salauddin." You warned him, petting the sheep in your arms. "They need us to care for their babies! They're new parents!"

"Y/n-"

"Yes, Yusuf?" You used his name, batting your lashes at him. You know how to get to him.

Ya hayati. (My life)

He sighed, petting Bilal in his hands. "I'm going to put Bilal down for a nap."

"Yeah! Just put him with his siblings-" "No. I'm going to separate him and his brothers. They will not be giving babies to their sisters." Salauddin grumbled as you pouted and muttered about how cute new kittens are.

Maybe he can give you a litter of your own to keep you preoccupied. (Not because he likes you or anything- he just doesnt want you to fill his palace with more animals.)

Despite what Salauddin says, he still remembers each name of all your pets. All of them. He also talks to the cats, especially to Bilal about how he needs to behave for him mama and protect her and stuff.

[jobean12-blog]

The Last Time We Say Goodbye

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 1,604

Summary: It's only recently that you and Joel have been more that just friends so when he has to go out on a search with Tommy it leaves you with nothing but time to think...

Author's Note: I missed him and wanted something desperate but soft! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you sweet Daisy!

Warnings: some light angst at Joel being away, tension, soft sweetness, soft smut, oral (f rec), p in v, a curse or two

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The time away had only made things more complicated.

You felt frustrated. You were spending far too much time thinking of him. Missing him. Worrying about him.

Your time together was always on your mind, and you had dreams of him almost nightly, none of them satisfying enough.

There was no way he could ever give you a precise time for his return. You couldn’t even be sure that he would return. But somehow, on that cool summer evening, while you’re sitting on the porch, mindlessly swaying back and forth on the rocking chair he built, you hear  a commotion by the gates and you know the group is back.

You can only hope he’s with them.

Standing, you take a deep breath and try to calm the butterflies in your stomach. The sound of pounding hooves has your fingers twisting and you stand on your tippy toes to get a better look at the riders.

You don’t see him and you’re breathing quickens. Starting to pace back and forth you will your mind to stop racing and your heartbeat to calm. Without thinking, you stop mid step and turn toward the oncoming group, searching through the familiar faces for the one you want.

Your breath catches in your throat when a head of familiar, gray-streaked brown hair appears. There he is, looking better than you’d ever seen him. How…after two weeks on the road does someone come back looing better?

His hair is a tousled mess of curls as usual, no doubt from his large hands running through it regularly. His long legs hang over either side of the horse, muscles flexed and straining against his tight jeans. In the warmer weather, his shirt is unbuttoned at the neck and his sleeves rolled up over his forearms.

He looks tired and his beard is more unkempt than usual, but that’s not what has your body thrumming. His eyes have been searching the area, but the moment they meet yours, his lips lift into a smile and before you can stop it, you feel your own grow, wide and relieved.

With ease, he slides from the horse and takes a few long strides to meet you out in the middle of the road. His features grow tense while you both wait for the other to speak.

“Hi,” you say quietly, trying to ease some of the apprehension between you.

“Hiya darlin’,” he answers.

“Are you ok?” you ask, letting your eyes roam down his body in search of injuries.

He pauses for a moment before answering.

“I am now.”

There are people bustling around you, loved ones searching for each other and cries of greeting ringing out, but the only thing you can focus on is the growing tension and every inch of space that separates you.

Someone rushes by and bumps into you, pushing you toward him. His hand instinctively lands on your waist to steady you and you look up to find him staring.

Your skin heats at the familiar look of hunger in his eyes. You mutter “thank you,” and look away.

“You must be thirsty? Hungry?”

He nods and makes a gesture toward his horse. You watch as he walks over and starts to lift his belongings from the saddle, distracted as the muscles of his back tighten his shirt.

Tommy yells something and he answers, breaking you out of your daze.

“How ‘bout that drink?” he asks when he’s standing close once again.

You move around your small kitchen in silence, trying to busy yourself with making him a small meal. All you want to do is reach over and touch him, to tell him that you need him to touch you.

All your thoughts make it impossible for you to concentrate on the task, your time apart having done nothing to lessen his hold over you. If anything, it’s stronger.

With a sigh you reach for a plate, too distracted to react as it slips free from your hand and crashes to the ground.

He rushes up behind you, taking your hand in his and checking it for any cuts. His calloused fingertips search your skin, and you feel every sensation. His scent fills the space you occupy, and he surrounds you completely.

“Are you okay, darlin’?”

You turn to face him, your lips parting at the intensity in his gaze.

“It’s just been a long day,” you say, searching for any excuse.

“Hmm,” he muses, continuing to study you.

His gaze flickers to your mouth and you need him to kiss you. As if drawn in, you lean closer as he leans in to meet you.

Suddenly, a knock sounds at the door and Tommy comes in, his smile fading when he realizes his obvious interruption.

“Sorry big brother,” he mutters. “But you forgot this.”

He holds out Joel’s knife before looking at you with an apologetic smile. Joel takes it and then carefully slides it into the back pocket of his jeans.

Tommy disappears out the door as quickly as he had come in.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly and when you look back at Joel you have no time to react as he grips your face between his hands and pulls you into his chest.

When your lips meet, you make a strangled sound of surrender, immediately combing your fingers through his hair.

He holds you steady, pulling away to press a kiss to one corner of your mouth, then the other before he lingers in the middle.

You press your curves into him and he bumps into the counter, then the kitchen table as you shift and finally meet the wall as he pins you against something solid.

You can smell, taste and feel him but none of it is enough.

He grabs your ass, your thighs, slides his hands along your waist and up over your breasts, seeming to need to touch every part of you simultaneously. Your hands roam his body frantically, yanking on his shirt until the buttons pop off and it falls from his shoulder to the floor.

His fingers trace the hem of your dress, and you moan, bringing your hand to rest on his, guiding his movements.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs in a voice rough with need. “Tell me the things you want me to do to you.”

“Everything,” you whisper against his mouth.

He groans your name and slips his hands under your dress.

“I need to see all of you,” he says, teasing your mouth.

In one swift movement he has the dress up and over your head and stops dead at the sight of what’s been hiding beneath.

He takes a step back, leaving you pressed against the wall.

Your matching satin and lace set has him licking his lips and he pushes a restraining hand through his hair.

“Fuck, you’re stunning,” he says, moving closer again and running his fingertips along the swell of your breasts.

A visible shiver runs across your skin and his hand travels upward, tracing the outline of your collarbone, along your neck and finally to your jaw.

He drags your mouth to his and you fumble clumsily with his pants. His hands wander down the curve of your spine, back up again along your sides to your breasts, and feel every inch of your skin.

The kiss never breaks as you stumble back toward the couch and pull at his remaining clothes.

He stops just when your calves hit the cushions, slowly tracing your ribs with his knuckles before sliding to the clasp of your bra to release it.

Pulling you closer, he groans into your mouth as your soft breasts graze his chest and your fingers slide lower, circling his cock and lightly squeezing.

He spins and sits down, resting his hands on your waist and holding you still in front of him. Reaching down he slips his thumbs under the fabric at your hips and delicately drags it down your legs.

With soft kisses to your stomach, he moves downward, continuing to taste until you coat his tongue and erase everything else.

“I’m fuckin’ losin’ my mind darlin’,” he whispers against your ear as he drags you into his lap. “I need to be inside you.”

Your hips rock over him, his cock sliding against your wetness as your sighs and moans fill the room.

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” you whimper. “Please Joel. I can’t wait any longer.”

He brings his eyes to yours, his lips hovering just an inch away as he holds your gaze and guides himself deep inside you.

“Oh my god,” you moan.

“Say it again,” he demands, breathless.

“Please Joel.”

He starts to thrust into you more steadily and you brace your hands on his shoulders, easily meeting each movement.  

“I can’t get enough of this,” he whispers against your lips. “I want you like this every day.”

His name leaves your lips like a prayer and his grip tightens.

“Come on darlin’. Let me see you come all over me. It’s all I’ve thought about.”

Your thighs tighten around his waist, and you squeeze his cock, your breath hitching before you muffle your cries against his neck. He follows right behind, hips stuttering and breathing ragged.

He slumps back against the couch and cradles you to his chest, his arms secured around you.

He moves his face close to yours, noses brushing and lips delicate.

“Stay with me,” you whisper.

His lips trace your jaw and stop just below your ear. He places a soft kiss to the spot before whispering, “I’m not goin' anywhere.”

@lizette50 @hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989