#i got a smidge carried away

[jichanxo]

11/29 Sayo Yasuda is torn in two, and Beatrice is born.

[brekkie-e]

I suppose some people might interpret it that way if they're more in the "Solas is an outright villian" camp, but I think the fact that Solas clearly views these decisions as regrets (one of which even spawns a regret demon/revanent) makes them sacrifices.

Some further insight on the Felassan scene- he went to meet Solas willingly. He considered doing things to prevent himself from entering the Fade, but he decided not to. The whole scene has this duality to it. He seems both fond of Solas, in a sad sort of way, but also scared of him. He acts like he's catching up with an old friend and playfully getting into a one-sided debate with him. He's not holding it against him that he can't change his mind. He doesn't try to. He dies with a smile on his face while teasing Solas over the fact Briala reminds Felassan of him. But despite the fondness- there is also a sadness and an undercurrent of fear. The reality is that he knows his friend well enough to know that the moment he shows his cards and Solas realizes he's chosen Briala over The Cause™️- he will die for it. There isn't room for discussion. And Felassan is meeting that fate as bravely as he can.

There is a part of me that thinks Solas holds this kill against himself more than Felassan does. It's nuanced. He obviously wasn't happy to die. But it's almost like with real wolves. Felassan understood Solas was dangerous. He loved him. They had a bond. But he never forgot what he was capable of, and because of that didn't hold his nature against him, I think?

Rambling aside- on the subject of Solas getting rid of people who could change his mind! He does this often! It's why Felassan has to go. If he starts giving him counter arguments, he is a distraction at best a liability at worst. He does this with Cole at the end of Inquisition. He forces him to forget him because Cole wanted to help and helping meant choosing a different path. He does it with a romanced Inquisitor in two ways. He refuses to let her come with him because he "doesn't want her to see what he must become." And also because he outright tells her it's too easy to talk to her and it would be too easy to start heeding her advise. (I cant remember exactly what the quote is but that's the jist of it.)

So yeah. I think in ways Varric and Felassan are collateral. But it definitely goes beyond that. Solas cannot allow anyone who tries to change his mind the opportunity to succeed at it.

I have a question to those who've read The Masqued Empire. I understand I will never read it myself, cause there is just one question I am interested in, and here it is:

Does Solas killing Felassan seem out if character in the context of the Veilguard? Is there a valid

[mutedeclipse]

Perception

I evil'd all over the place and tested some new shit out

Hes so fun to draw and i once again streamed the making of this to my discord server

[gwidien]

@gaskills asked: ❛   hunger .   give  my  muse  something  to  eat  /  drink . 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃  &  𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  sentence starters (accepting)

The end of the year winds down, and he hadn't intended to meet her here.

Mary-Beth, several years older since he last saw her at Beaver Hollow, now an up-and-coming author, Leslie Dupont. She must have been invited here. Her newfound name may have gotten her foot through the door. Or perhaps she snuck her way in. Either way, in the heart of the city and inside a glinting, bustling venue, everyone dressed to the nines, they've reunited. 

She finds her way back to him with flutes of champagne, pale gold and sparkling. Trelawny thanks her, taking it by the stem. "This will hit the spot," he says, a punch to it. For a moment, he takes her in. "Let - me - look at you."

He hadn't had the time to before. Not really. There'd been too much in the way of it. The music and the how are yous. The surprise of seeing each other again. Light eyes and a red dress, the same but different.

"Aren't you the belle of the ball." He said it with gusto. Because she is. Because he flatters. He saunters on. "Making a name for yourself. From modest abodes," he recounts, lifting his hand, "...to silver spoons." He gestures back down to her. Then, he brightens. "You wear it well."

Beneath strung-up rosy ribbons and shimmering chandeliers, the lights throw themselves into Mary-Beth's eyes. They dance in them like little lighthouses. Like merry-go-rounds. And when she smiles, the clusters of her freckles bunch together, and Trelawny is aware of the fondness he has for this moment. One reserved for unexpected reunions. From the long years apart.

Partygoers buzz, jam-packed together, ready for the countdown.

He raises his glass to hers, as puckish as ever. "To happier trails, Miss Gaskill."

[thecreelhouse]

stuck

Paring: Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Summary: Yes, it’s exactly what you think it is. MDNI

WC: 4.6k+

Includes: no plot all filth, unrealistic “stuck” porn trope, friends to horny idiots, dirty talk, pet names/name calling, unprotected PiV sex, oral (f receiving), briefest mention of monsterfucking, brief anal play, a smidge of humiliation kink with a healthy side of a praise kink, d/s dynamic, etc.

A/N: Literally got this idea from a certain filthy piece of DBD fanart that I can’t find, but if you know the one I’m talking about, please lmk so I can properly credit for the inspo!! Is this ridiculous? Yes. Was this originally for Halloween? Also yes. We hate rules here (and deadlines). Hope y’all enjoy it <3 (dividers from @/saradika-graphics)

Everyone told Steve he was insane to venture back into the Upside Down, but he couldn’t leave you there alone. 

He felt sick for even leaving you behind at all. Quite honestly, no one felt good about evacuating without you, but it was smarter to go home, gear up, grab another working walkie, before wandering back into hell to find you.

See, among the chaos of trying to help Eddie, trying to keep Max alive, he worried about you and your unusual absence from the group, but you were strong enough to handle nearly anything— that much, he was confident on. You had fought side by side with him over the years, protecting everyone in the group, and one another; through demodogs, a shit summer job gone awry, and anything in between, you could hold your own with a bravery he wished he didn’t need to front at times.

That didn’t quell his anxiety one bit, though. When and where you had disappeared to, he wasn’t sure.

It wasn’t until your voice broke through over the airwaves, when Steve, Eddie, Nancy, and Robin were on the lake, that he felt relief you were at least alive. Your voice was tinny through the static.

“Guys?”

The only reason a signal existed at all was because the group floated just above the gate at the bottom of the lake— they just didn’t know it yet.

Steve had just thrown his sweater off, ready to dive in, when the sound of your voice made his eyes widen. 

“Holy shit, give me the—“ He rocked the tiny boat a little too much for anyone’s comfort as he fell to his knees, grabbing the walkie from the floor. “Where the fuck are you?!”

“Hi to you too, Harrington.”

Robin yanked the device from Steve’s grip, “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Long fuckin’ story, but—“ Your voice cut out, static filling the dead air for a few seconds. “And that’s—“ Cut off again. “Upside Down, but I- I don’t know where I am, exactly. Why didn’t any of y’all tell me how bad this place sucks?”

Steve laughed to himself, unaware his eyes became glassy, hearing the familiar attitude and sailor’s mouth you carried; the other three noticed just how relieved and emotional he was right away. He grabbed the walkie back from Robin with shaky hands.

“We’re gonna come find you, we think we found a gate,” He rushed out. “Are you safe at least?”

“For now, but these—“ Signal cutting out, Steve hit the walkie a few times, as if that’d fix the disconnect between literal dimensions. “— Th- they’re everywhere. I don’t know where to hi— oh, shit—“ Your end fell dead again, leaving the four on edge, waiting for you to speak. White noise droned on for less than a minute; you weren’t coming back. 

Wasting not a second longer, Steve dove into the dark, chilled waters of the lake. He found the gate they suspected of, and broke the surface to alert his friends. As he relayed the information, rushed and panicked, wanting to find you as soon as possible, something tugged on his leg. Only startling the group at first, Steve was caught off guard, pulled under, back down to the bottom. He kicked, struggled, lungs burning as he fought off the urge to gasp for a breath he couldn’t dare to take.

It was all a blur, being dragged through the gate and tossed around like a rag doll; the bats diving towards him, finding an oar to defend himself with among the Upside Down’s mirrored decay of the lake, only to be bombarded by the gnarly creatures. They tore at his flesh as he was being strangled to death; brain growing fuzzy as he put up a good fight, he began to accept this fate. He wasn’t sure when his friends came through the gate, but one by one they retaliated against the bats, leaving just the one still strangling Steve.

“Get fucked!”

Unexpectedly, you appeared, slamming an ax— one you always left in your trunk, just in case— down onto one of its wings, chopping through completely, yet it still tried to flee as Steve bit down on its tail. Stunned, you all watched as Steve swung it around, slamming it down into the ground before violently ripping its spine out, fueled by pure rage.

Blood dripped from his mouth while he glanced up at you, rage and fear fading as relief flooded every inch of his heart. Despite your ragged appearance— covered in grime, soot, and blood— he was just happy to see you alive; a sight for sore eyes.

“I fuckin’ hate those things.” You wanted to run and hug him, but restrained yourself at the sight of his wounds. Taking in the sight of all four friends, you sighed, “Y’all okay?”

Another screech in the sky tore everyone’s attention away, “C’mon!” Where everyone ran off to the rocks, you made the mistake of running off in the opposite direction. The group of bats split off, heading towards both you and the others; when you looked over your shoulder, you watched Steve do the same, panic fueling you both to run for your lives.

You sprinted off towards the woods, hoping you’d find each other again soon, and alive.

Steve climbed back through the gate in Eddie’s trailer, and had searched for what felt like hours; he was losing hope of finding you by the minute. He knows you; you wouldn’t give up without a fight. You had to be alive, but dread was still building within him.

At least he caught a signal over the walkies.

“What do you mean you’re stuck?”

Your voice warbles through the speaker of Steve’s walkie, barely coherent through the sharp static. 

“Okay, okay, where are you?”

“The— g—“ Feedback rips through your words, shrill and sharp. “I’m tr—“

“You’re cutting out—“

“Gate! I’m—“ A drone of white noise floods the speaker, and you’re gone.

“Shit. Fuck. God-fucking-dammit!” He hits the device with his free hand, slams the buttons and messes with the knobs and antenna— if only he actually paid attention when Dustin tried showing him how to work this fucking thing.

He did hear you say ‘gate’ at least, but which one? You clearly weren’t at the one he just entered, and the one at the lake had closed up by now. 

This would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Steve’s exhausted, searching high and low for you, at every possible spot that crosses his mind. It had to have been another hour since he last heard from you, and he’s running out of ideas of where you could be.

“Checked around town,” He begins murmuring to himself, listing and eliminating options out loud. “No luck there… but— shit, didn’t check the library…” Could a gate even open in there? Anywhere was possible, right? And if that was the case, he’d have to tear through every room of every building, circle each structure, check any cars, houses, sheds, backyards, parks, the woods—

Christ, at this rate, he’ll never find you—

“Oof!” Steve loses his footing, tumbling over something in the stretch of woods he was combing through. Colliding with the ground, he groans on impact.

“What the fuck?”

Steve rolls over quickly, sitting up to find he had tripped over you.

“Oh, thank fuck.” He scrambles to his feet, brushing debris off his body as he finally glances your way.

When you said you were stuck, Steve didn’t picture the sight before him now; you, halfway through a gate found in a tree trunk, unable to move because it began to close up around your waist. Your upper half is on the other side, but your bottom half is still stuck in the Upside Down.

“Oh…. You’re… wow, okay.” He snickers, “Yeah. You’re stuck, alright.”

Steve’s muffled cackling echoes through the slimy gate. You huff and roll your eyes; not like he can see.

“Just help me out of here, would ya’?!”

“Okay, okay… Jesus.” He drops to his knees, still towering over you— well, your back half, at least. “Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s just fucking annoying. Maybe try, I dunno, pulling at the edges of it, or something?”

“I don’t think that’s how these things work—“

“Steve!”

“Okay, right, yeah, sorry.” He bites his bottom lip, stifling more laughter. It’s certainly an… awkward position, leaning over you from behind, but it’s the only way he can pull at the edges with both hands at once. He gives the gate’s edge a tug, but it’s stone solid. He tries again, this time with a grunt that has your mind wandering elsewhere. “Yeah, this is, uh… that’s not gonna work.”

“Oh my god, I’m stuck here forever,” You groan, kicking your feet. “I’m gonna die here.”

“Calm down, drama queen. Gimme a second, I’ll try again.” Steve keeps himself balanced on one knee, while the other leg plants a steady foot into the ground. Again, he attempts to pry open the gate, hoping to free you; his foot slips, causing him to rub against your backside.

Okay, ‘rub’ is a generous term— more like roughly falling against your ass, then whining over the pressure on his bulge.

“Steve, what the fuck?” You crane your neck, only able to see where the tree bark opens up into the gate, snug around your waist. “Did you just—“

“I didn’t mean to, I swear! M- my foot slipped!”

“Oh, bullshit.”

“Look, it’s not exactly the easiest to move around you without touching you right now,” He argues. “You really think I’m trying to make a move on you in a situation like this?!”

“Well, I can’t see shit, Harrington. I don’t know what the hell’s going on back there.”

Ignoring you, Steve murmurs, more to himself but loud enough for you to still hear, “The hell are you wearing these tiny shorts for, anyway?” He tugs at the hem around your thigh, elastic snapping back against your skin. You bite back whatever pathetic noise threatens to escape your lips.

“It was warm out earlier!”

“It’s March—“

“And unreasonably warm for March, y- you jerk.”

“That why you’re shivering?”

“Considering the sun set, uh, yeah?”

You grumble, annoyed how wet this easily has made you. You need out, and Steve needs out, too, and the two of you need to just forget about all of this.

“Okay, just—“ You can’t think straight, mind clouded with dirty thoughts— how embarrassing. “Push me through.”

“You… want me to push you… how?”

“With your hands, St—“

“I know with my h— I meant, like, where?”

You can’t see the way he licks his lips, staring at your ass, but you sure can hear the strangled moan he miserably tries to hide in his throat. 

“Wherever works— I don’t know, I’ve never been stuck between dimensions before!”

He shudders a breath before calling through the gate, “I’m gonna— if I touch anything I shouldn’t, I swear to god I’m not trying to—“

“Okay, yeah, I get it, Steve— just push me out of here!”

“Christ, you’re fucking bossy…”

His hands grip the plush of your hips, first, hoping he can grip hard enough and push this way— it’s useless; his hands lose grip, sliding up your body. His knuckles run into the tree, and he’s grateful for that barrier; who knows how far his hands could’ve slipped. He yelps and recoils away. “Sorry!”

“Dude, I don’t care, just do whatever works.” You sound exhausted, and who wouldn’t be in a situation like this? You had to have been here at least an hour, and even if it doesn’t hurt, it can’t be very comfortable. 

Steve shakes his nerves off, hands reaching for the back of your thighs; his fingers splay apart, pushing as hard as he can, and you finally begin to budge. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

Until you cry out for him to stop. “Shit, that fuckin’ hurts— It’s— ow, fuck! My hips—”

He immediately backs off, hands releasing pressure, but still resting gently on your thighs. It’s automatic, the way his thumbs rub slow circles into your exposed skin to try comforting you; the shorts you’re wearing are not helping either of you. It was warm out earlier, like you said, but did you have to wear these now?

Goosebumps prickle up under his fingers, and it’s hard to miss the way you clench your thighs together. 

“You, uh…” Steve gulps, fingers gently kneading at the meat of your thighs. “You okay over there?”

“Uh-huh,” Your answer isn’t very convincing, with a trembling voice. “Everything okay back there? W- with you, I mean.”

“Sure, yeah, it’s… I’m good.” He feels like such a pervert, fantasizing about taking you right here, like this. It’s wrong when you’re trapped like this. “Honey, I- I don’t know what else to do.”

The pet name twists at a coil deep within you, building up a pressure of some kind. 

“This is gonna sound fucked up, but just— push my ass— Steve, that better not be you laughing!”

He can’t hold back his immature giggling, but he’d rather this than moan.

“You sure? I don’t want you to get mad or anything.” He tries to settle down, focus on getting you unstuck. “Tell me to stop if it hurts again, alright?”

You imagine hearing those words of sweet consent in a different circumstance, biting back a whimper. “Ye- yeah, I will.”

Steve slides his hands up to the curve of your ass, unable to restrain himself before digging his fingers into your soft, plushy body. “Gonna count down, sweetheart, okay?”

This time a whimper does beat you to the punch before you can actually reply. He squeezes a little harder.

“Three… two… one—“ Steve shoves his hands against you, pushing as hard as he can. Again, your hips shove up against the tree trunk, and you cry out from the pinch. He pulls you back an inch, wincing with guilt. “M’sorry, I—“

“Again,” You boldly call back to him.

“… You sure?”

“Just do it, please,” His hands are so warm, touch so soft; you wish the fabric of your shorts would just disappear. There’s an extra whine to your voice, “Don’t hold back, I can take it.”

“Oh, fuck…” He mumbles, sucking in a sharp breath. “Go— I’m gonna try again, ready?” He hears a faint noise of consent, shoving himself into you; this time, his hips rut into you, too. You still can’t get through the gate, but you’re not sure that’s either of your concern at this moment. His bulge, rock-hard now, brushes up against your ass, and you both moan out. This is bad.

The way you push back against him isn’t helping much, either.

Both of you still, falling silent while trying to steady your breaths. Are you really about to do this here? Now?

Steve makes the decision for you both, muttering, “I can’t fuckin’ take it anymore.” He’s purposefully grinding against you, head lolling back with a groan as you push into him in return. From either end, both of you are shuddering out sinful noises. “Always wanted to kiss you first, but—“

“As soon as you rescue me, y’can kiss me all ya’ want.”

“Shit, princess, never took you for the damsel in distress type.” He tugs your shorts down, choking on air when he discovers you’re completely nude underneath. “Jesus, did you think at all about your outfit today?”

“Uh, considering I don’t have a bra on… no.”

“You don’t have a—“ Steve comically pouts that part of you is through the other side of the gate; he’s grateful you can’t see the pathetic expression. “What, did you just roll outta bed and stroll down here?”

“Steve, the longer we talk about the logistics of my outfit, the dryer I’m becoming.”

“Good thing I can help with that.”

“Okay, that was goofy to s— oh…” His thumbs spread your folds apart; despite your failed quip, you’re soaked as sin. 

“So fuckin’ pretty…” He leans down, kissing the swell of your ass, trailing his lips down your backside until he’s level with your heat. There’s no warning, just his tongue gliding along your folds, lapping up your arousal. A feral sounding groan vibrates through your core as he loses himself tasting you. It’s not rushed— not on purpose, at least— but any restraint is long gone now.

“Oh m’god,” You shudder while his tongue swirls around your clit, sucking it softly. His arms wrap around your thighs from behind, hooking you in place. You twitch back, like you’re desperate to grind on his face, but worried to freak him out.

Steve’s far from freaked out; in fact, he’s delving his tongue deeper, nearly incoherent when he mirrors your earlier words, “Don’t hold back. I can take it.”

That’s all the permission you need, rolling your body back as far as the gate allows, trembling as he sloppily makes out with your cunt. If only you could see the glistening mess on his pretty features. “Steve…”

He angles his nose against your clit just right, making you squeal into the empty forest around you. His tongue laps away, eventually tapering to fuck into you with it.

“Fuck, more, ple- please,” You pant, grateful Steve’s holding you upright, or you’d go limp against the tree. “Please— god!”

He slides a finger into you, curling it just right as he kisses and sucks back to your clit. He’s rougher this time when he suckles on the sensitive bud, rolling your eyes back and tensing your body up. You chant his name in whimpers, like a desperate prayer, only urging him to finger fuck you harder.

“Jesus, sweetheart, you’re gripping me so hard.” He groans into you, adding another finger. “Taste so good, I could be here all night—“

An orgasm startles you, going 0 to 100 without warning; lewd noises floating back through the gate toward Steve only challenge him to keep going.

“S- Steve, ha- hang on—“

“You want me to stop?” He slows his pace, but you ram yourself back into his hand and lips.

“No! Please, god, no—“

“Then what is it?” His tongue flits out, teasing around your sensitive nub.

“M- move your fingers up, back where you had it— ohhhmyfuckinggod—“

“C’mon, come for me, y’can do it again,” he coaxes, spitting onto your folds while relentlessly ruining you with his thick, long fingers. Your legs tremble wildly. “I can tell you’re close, angel. Make a mess, come for me again—“

This time, you cry out, praying whatever woods you found yourself in was deep enough, away from the public. Your hips twitch and convulse, while you flutter around his digits, soaking his face while he continues to delve deeper, as if that’s even possible.

The pumping pace of his fingers never relents, despite how overstimulated you feel already.

“St- Steve…”

“Got one more in ya’?” You feel his hot breath fanning over your folds again. It’s not long before he’s flicking his tongue back out, teasing your clit while adding another finger. “Christ… yeah… yeah, angel, that’s it…” He laps at the nectar dribbling from your centre, grunting as his free hand pulls you by your thigh, guiding you to bounce against his face. The fingers buried in you curl just right, earning a broken, breathy noise from the other side; he hits the right spot, and under a minute in, you’re gushing against his pretty face.

You can hear how drenched he is when he speaks, licking his lips between his words, “That was… oh, fuck, that… that was so… can we do that every day?”

Winded, you manage to laugh weakly, “If you can figure out how to get me un-stuck, I’ll let you do that as much as you fuckin’ want.”

You’d kill to see his face right now, dripping with your release, but until then you’ll just need to use your imagination.

“…. Can we—“

“Please.”

The head of his cock slides along your folds, teasing as it runs over your sensitive clit. You jolt back, and he grips you by the hip, holding you in place with one hand.

“Be patient for me, angel. I don’t wanna hurt you,” he slides in, taking his time, paying attention to your gasps. “You okay?”

“Uh-huh, ju- just go slow.”

Like earlier, when Steve tried pushing you through the gate, he soothes you with his touch, thumbs rubbing soft circles against your skin. He sinks a bit further, feeling you clench around him with anticipation. “Angel, gotta relax to let me in…”

“I- I know, m’trying, you’re just— you’re so… so…”

“Shhh, it’s okay, I have you. You’re okay…” He slides deeper, hips almost flush against your backside. “Just relax… that’s it, that’s my girl.”

The praise elicits a pornographic moan out of you, only triggering his cock to twitch against your walls.

“God, wish I could see your face right now,” his mumbling fades into a gravelly groan, sinking deep into you. 

“Y’can if you fuck me when we’re outta here,” you strain out, taking him to the hilt. His cock twitches again, making you both shudder.

“I dunno, what if we can’t get you out, sweetheart?” The tides turn with his tone. He pulls out slowly, teasing your clit with the head of his cock. You twitch and clench around nothing, making him smirk. “What if you’re stuck here forever?” Slamming back into you, your walls clamp down on him, tighter than before. “Oh, what, you like that idea?”

“Steve…”

“You wanna be left here? Where anyone can walk by, use you however they want?” He draws back, snapping his hips back into your ass, relishing in the way you cry out. “Anyone can find you in the woods over there, use that pretty mouth of yours…” Gripping your hips, he pulls back slowly, thrusting in with everything he’s got. It’s becoming a torturous pattern, but he can tell you’re enjoying it with the way you’re soaking his cock. 

“Oh my— fuck…” You gasp from the other side, throwing yourself back into him as far as the gate allows you. He grunts as you meet his thrusts.

“You’d be up for grabs over here too, y’know…” Hands trailing back to your ass, he spreads your cheeks, spitting lewdly on your pretty, puckered hole. “But maybe you’re not that much of a freak—“ You don’t hold back the sinful sound building in your throat over his unfinished concept. “Oh. Oh. You’d like gettin’ fucked by some monsters too, huh? That’s so fuckin’ gross, babe.”

“That ain’t even the half of it,” you manage to reveal through panting and whimpering.

His mind races over the possibilities, slamming into you a little faster.

Steve circles the tight entrance with the pad of his thumb, throbbing deep inside you as he tests the waters, sinking in just a bit. You squirm and whine, relaxing as he continues on, eventually making it past his knuckle— which, wouldn’t be too much, but with the size of his hands, you feel so full off that alone.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, I don’t think I’ll l- last long,” he murmurs while he pistons his hips into you, growing sloppier by the minute. 

“S’okay… m’not…” You can’t grasp onto the words you need, not when he’s fucking you absolutely brainless between dimensions. “God, Steve, you’re so deep.”

His thumb slips out of you, leaving you emptier than before, making desperate, pathetic mewls and cries. Ignoring you, his hand slides underneath, pressing down onto the peak of your mound. “Where do you feel me? Here?”

“N- no, deeper…”

Steve splays his hand wide, fingers blanketing over your skin; he inches his touch up, just where your belly and pelvis begin to meet. The further he stretches his touch, the more he leans over you, kissing along any bare skin on your back he can reach.

“Here?”

You shake your head, but he can’t see. Your lapse in verbal response earns a smack on your ass, causing you to cry out into the expanse of the woods. 

“Where, babe? Tell me.”

“Up,” whimpering, you push back into him. Hand gliding up to your belly button, he stops.

“Here?”

Eyes rolling back, you let out a broken sob, “Yes!”

Steve pushes down on your belly, just enough for the pressure to meet his thrusts.

“You’re takin’ me like a slut… sound like one, too.” He grunts while bucking wildly into you. His hand disappears, only to join the other in grabbing you by the thighs, nearly lifting your lower half off the ground against him.

The sound is absolutely what you’d expect from two, hopelessly horny idiots, fucking in a circumstance like this one right here. Skin on skin slapping roughly, echoing out into the woods of the Upside Down, in time with his near-feral grunts and throaty groans. On your side, in your world, you can only imagine how close to an injured animal you might sound like, or someone in actual distress, unable to cover your mouth as you hold yourself up while he fucks into you relentlessly.

“M’pretty close, angel,” Steve pants through the gate, hips stuttering while he still gives his all, thrusting mercilessly into you. “Where—  where can I—“

“‘Side…” You groan out, lost in a lust-driven delirium.

Attitude softening, he manages to ask, “In— you mean inside?”

“Uh-huh, wanna be full,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear. “Make me yours—“

“Oh, fuck,” Steve’s hips freeze over your words, finally reaching his high. One final cry tears out of you as your fourth and final orgasm trembles through your body, rolling into his. The delicious squeeze and fluttering around him helps milk his release, doing just as you asked, filling you up with his spend. 

Involuntarily, his entire lower half twitches violently into you, and finally, finally, the gate gives, allowing him to tumble through to the other side, shoving you out first. He lands on top of you, rolling over onto the forest floor while you both groan. The woods are quiet, aside from occasional crickets and your loud, ragged breaths, weaving through the branches above.

Though the two of you are ready to fully collapse, the squelching sound of the gate constricting catches your attention; the damn thing closes completely.

Steve chuckles weakly, while you push past any shame that might still linger, shyly smiling over at him.

“Hey…” You attempt to greet him, now that you’re face to face— which, speaking of, his features are still glistening from sweat and your multiple releases. 

“Hi,” he breathes, eyes trailing over your figure, landing and pausing on your exposed core, dripping a lewd mixture of fluids. “Fuck…” He leans forward, but stops himself, mumbling, “If we weren’t in the woods, I’d, uh, help clean you up, but…”

Your eyes widen, taking in his words; neither of you are in a state to fuck around any further, but you make a mental note of the suggestion for the future. “I’m— I’ll remember that.”

Surging towards him with an ounce of renewed energy, you capture his lips in a long-awaited kiss. He makes the cutest noise of surprise, melding against you. Pausing, he murmurs against your lips, “Sorry we couldn’t do that first.” It’s a wild shift in his demeanor post-sex, from a dominant, feral wreck, to this soft, precious person before you.

“We can make up for it though.”

“After a super long fuckin’ nap.” Then he cringes, “And the— y’know, the whole—“ He waves his hand around, rolling his eyes, “the Vecna thing.”

“Right. Yeah. Priorities.” You’re looking forward to all of this coming to an end. All you want is to curl up in bed with Steve, and sleep a whole day away, but that’ll have to wait. 

As clarity brings you back down to earth, you realize you’re still naked from the waist down… which means— 

“Um… Steve?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“… Where’s my shorts?”

[bambikisss]

Husband activities : C.San

Husband!San x Wife!Reader

📖 : After working hard for a promotion, your husband decides to take you out to dinner to celebrate

⚠️ : Unprotected sex (please wrap it and be safe), fingering while driving, public oral (male to female), biting, lots of praise, a smidge of degrading, talks of recording/picture taking, small use of food, desperate San, pussy drunk San

🦌Bambi's notes : Hi! This is my first story back and I'm very excited to get back in the swing of things when it comes to writing and posting again. There are a few more tags added above as I got a bit carried away, but here's something to begin the year off with for book club. Enjoy!

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED | ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY

"Congratulations again, Mrs. Choi"

You smiled at Barbra's compliment, thanking her once more before wishing her a good night. After months and months of hard work, you had obtained the promotion position you had been dreaming about. While it took everything you had, you were happy to finally have the new plack with your name on it and the new position.

As you continued to set up your new office, you heard a knock on the door gently. When you turned around and were met with your husband's smiling face, you couldn't help but mirror it, rushing into his arms with a bright smile. "San, what are you doing here?" You asked though you didn't mind. You loved it when he visited you and the same for him. "I just wanted to come to congratulate you in person, baby" San placed a gentle kiss to the side of your head, pulling back just enough to see your face as he wrapped his arms around you more, keeping you pressed right up against him.

San loved how you felt against him, fitting him perfectly. It was one of the many things he loved about your body: how it felt right against his.

You gave him a small tour of your office, leading him to the large floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a beautiful view of the city. San couldn't help but look down at you with pride in his eyes, pressing his chest against your back as he wrapped his arms around you once more, leaning down so that his lips grazed your ear as he hummed "I'm so proud of you, baby. You worked hard and now you get to enjoy it all"

You smiled as San's lips met you in a gentle kiss, savoring the feeling before he pulled back, suddenly now holding his phone out to you. On the screen was a reservation reminder for one of your favorite restaurants, a smile appearing on your lips as San's hands returned to your hips as he hummed "I got us a reservation. It's nothing, just a little gift."

San loved spoiling you, doing whatever it took to keep you happy and see that smile on your face, though it didn't take much. He enjoyed the glint in your eyes whenever he bought you a gift, the sight always making him want to pin you against the nearest surface.

"It's so soon, though" You pointed out, turning to the clock on the wall. The reservation was at 7 o'clock and it was already 5:30. San nodded, gently grabbing your hand to press a kiss to the back of it, slowly turning you around to face him as he smirked "Well, we should get going then. I want you to take your time when it comes to tonight."

San words repeated through your mind as you got ready, picking out one of your favorite and best-looking dresses and matching heels before taking a long hot shower, taking your time to thoroughly relax. As you put on the dress and finishing touches, your eyes moved over the dress, happy with how it adored you beautifully.

Just as you were applying the finishing touches on your makeup, San could be heard approaching the bathroom, the sound of his dress shoes clicking against the floors as he stood in the doorway. "Hey honey, we should get…" San's words left him in real-time as his eyes landed on your figure in the dress, his mind no longer focused on the reservation, but on how fucking good you looked. You had the same reaction, looking over his broad shoulders and slim waist in his choice of outfit, simply wearing his white button-up and beige vest over it. Though the outfit was simple, he looked absolutely sinful in it.

San licked his lips as you approached him, his fingers itching to touch you as he breathed out "Baby, oh my god. You look…" His words left him once more as he spun you around, his eyes moved over every inch of the dress and your figure, his mouth watering at the things he wanted to do with you. His lips met your cheek before slowly kissing down to your neck, your hands moving up his muscular chest as you hummed playfully "shouldn't we get going?"

"Going where?" San's question was muffled as he kissed your neck, breathing in your scent as he kissed and sucked gently on your neck, drawing a low moan out of you, one that made San press you back against the bathroom sink. You knew that if you didn't stop him soon, there would be no chance of you both making that reservation. As you pushed him away gently to meet his face, San licked his lips once more, his eyes now full of hunger and desire.

"San, the dinner reservation." San groaned at the reminder of the reservation, biting his lip before he nodded, backing up as he said "God, you're going to be the death of me" San couldn't keep his eyes off of you as you both made your way out to the car, his eyes drinking in every movement you made. He found you to be the prettiest woman he had ever seen, thanking the universe every day he got to marry you.

You tried to finish your makeup while he drove, the sight of you applying your lip gloss in your little compact mirror making it hard for San to simply focus on the road. His hands tightened around the wheel for a moment, his lips itching to meet yours and lick off the lip gloss. You gently pressed your lips together to spread the lip gloss evenly, not noticing San's hand leaving the wheel to meet your thigh over the dress. It seemed like such a simple touch, offering him a small smile before you returned to your lips.

"What kind of lip gloss is that?" San asked, his eyes glancing over to yours for a moment before returning to the road, focusing on driving once more. "I think it's stawberry-" You were unable to finish your words as San's hand shot up to grip your cheeks, pulling you into a deep kiss with him as he pulled up to a red light. You moaned gently as San's tongue met yours, your lips moving together in a heated kiss as San's hand left your cheeks to move down your body, greedily grabbing and feeling every part of you before pushing away your thighs, his finger meeting your panties. You couldn't help but pull back to bite your lip as San continued driving with one hand, his other hand working on slipping your panties to the side as he pushed in a finger to your pussy, a moan leaving you both.

"You're so wet, honey" San breathed out, his finger moving in and out of you at a slow pace, the palm of his hand rubbing small circles on your clit. You gripped the seat at his motions, letting him do as he pleased as you continued to let out your moans into the car. The sight of you relaxed, head tossed back against the seat made San's cock twitch, gripping the wheel as he sped up, rushing now to the restaurant.

Your eyes opened to the sound of San's door slamming shut, the backseat door opening to show San climbing into the back, his lips and tongue wrapped around the finger that was just inside of you. His eyes were dark, a moan leaving him as he met your eyes. He motioned for you to meet him in the back with his free, only freeing his finger from his lips when you sat on his lip, his lips crashing with yours in a messy kiss.

"We have 15 minutes left before our reservation" San groaned against your lips, carefully moving so that you were against the seat as he moved onto his knees in front of you, kissing down your thighs as he mumbled "I want my appetizer"

Who were you to deny your husband such a need?

As you simply opened your legs wider for San, he smirked at the sight, blowing some air onto your wet pussy with a playful grin on his lips.

"Now isn't the time for that, San" You mumbled, running your hand through his styled hair as you pushed his head towards your pussy. San smirked, knowing you were right as he let you bring his lips to your pussy, moaning immediately at your taste. He took his time enjoying you, his tongue moving in and out of your pussy lips as he looked up at you through his glasses. He let you move your hips against his face, his own eyes rolling shut as you gripped his hair to press him more against you.

"Hmm, ride my tongue honey. Let me taste you" He moaned, his fingers pressing into your thighs as he focused on licking up all your wetness. You tossed your head back as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking hard on it before he pulled back to mumble against your pussy "such a good girl for me. so fucking tasty"

Your moment with San was interrupted by the sound of his phone going off, letting him know that it was time for the reservation. He sighed gently before pressing a few more kisses to your pussy, as if kissing it goodbye before he pulled back to allow you both to fix up your appearance. He bit his lip at the sight of you reapplying lip gloss once more, wanting nothing more than to kiss it off of you again.

"You know," San hummed as you both exited the car and began to walk to the restaurant hand in hand. "I wouldn't mind just going back home and celebrating there"

"San" You gently scolded him as you both entered the restaurant, following the hostess to your table. San smirked gently, squeezing your hand to let you know he was playing around with you.

The hostess led you both to a private room dining room that had a beautiful view of the ocean, the room full of candles to give it a romantic glow. You gasped gently as San led you into the room, pulling out the chair for you as he said "I wanted to celebrate in a more intimate setting" He gently placed a kiss on your shoulder before moving to sit across the table from you, smiling proudly. He knew based on the glint in your eyes that he picked right for the reservation, his heart racing as you gently thanked him. He placed his hand on top of yours, gently pulling it to his lips as he said "Anything for you, my love. And you deserve it, you worked hard for that promotion."

San placed a kiss on your wedding band, making your heart skip a beat as he intertwined your fingers with his, admiring how perfectly they fit. San was a perfect life partner for you, someone who was driven and loved with his whole chest. You were his world and he wanted to make sure you knew that at all costs.

Soon the table was covered in food, San supporting you in ordering anything you wanted to try. You hummed happily as you both picked at the various dishes, both of you tasting the various foods with smiles on your face. You fed him some beef, smiling as he hummed "That has to be my favorite thing I've put in my mouth tonight."

You raised an eyebrow playfully at his words, your mind thinking back to the moment you both shared in the car before you both came inside, feeling more wetness gather at the memory. "Oh really?" You asked flirtatiously, leaning forward onto your hand as you met his eyes. At your new tone of voice, San raised his own eyebrow, putting down his fork as he said "Well, not as good as you of course." You hummed at his words, picking at your food with a faux pout on your lips. The sight made San smirk, leaning back in his chair as he asked

"You don't believe me?"

You shook your head, shrugging as you continued eating, your eyes moving to look out the window at the water. San scoffed at your answer, his eyes roaming your body hungrily before he decided to prove it to you. Your eyes stayed on the waves as the sound of San standing up and his chair being pushed back filled the room. You expected him to appear behind you, instead when your eyes left the window, you were met with an empty room. You looked around in confusion, trying to find him when you felt a pair of hands suddenly on your thighs. You jumped lightly before moving the table cover to see San on his knees once again in between your legs, his lips kissing your thighs as his eyes looked up to meet yours mischievously. As you asked him what he was doing, he bit his lip before simply pushing apart your legs more, his free hand moving up and down your covered pussy as he simply shushed you.

You were glad you were in a private room with San, the staff not being able to enter unless you both called for them on the tablet on the table. San smirked as he leaned forward to lick up your clothed pussy, his smirk growing as let out a sharp inhale. He enjoyed seeing you squirm and shake at his touch, repeating the steps a few more times. "Baby, aren't we supposed to be celebrating my promotion?" You asked breathlessly, your voice combined with your words making San moan against your panties, looking up at you with now flushed cheeks as he said "You're right, this is about you babygirl. This is about what you want"

San found the top of your panties, dragging it down your legs slowly before he attached his mouth to your pussy, his eyes locked on you as he continued to lick and suck wherever he could. Your eyes couldn't help but flicker to the door, letting out small moans as he gripped your hips, eating you out to his heart's content. At the sight of your eyes not meeting his, he got a pang of jealousy, wanting you to focus on him.

Your hand shot down to his hair as he pushed a finger into you, San moving your other leg onto his shoulder as he moaned against your pussy "look at me, honey. Focus on your reward" Your hand tightened in his hair as you both began to let out your moans into the room, both quiet and muffled by the music that the restaurant played. You began to move your hips against his face, San adjusting to match the angle. He focused on your face, watching every reaction to everything he did, wanting to make sure to drive you to ecstasy. San had hearts in his eyes as he ate you out, drinking in your taste happily while you held back from screaming his name, arching your back against the chair.

The sight of you panting and gripping both his hair and the chair made San's cock twitch painfully, his hands leaving you for a moment, though he didn't leave you empty as his tongue moved to replace his fingers as he hurriedly removed his belt and unbuttoned his pants, allowing his cock to peek out from the top of his boxers. Your eyes returned to see San's tongue moving in and out of you as his hands worked on his cock, using his precum to jerk off.

"You tasted so good, honey" San moaned, hips pushing forward as he groaned "I couldn't hold back, baby. You're so hot, you make me so hard."

The sight alone brought you closer to the edge, the sight making San forget about himself to give you 100%, his lips wrapping around your clit while his two fingers returned to you, curling up in the best way as he pushed you closer and closer to an orgasm. As you came, you breathily said San's name, hips shaking as San quickly licked you up, his hips still thrusting forward into nothing, wishing it was you.

As you slowly calmed down, San returned to his seat as he licked his lips, stuffing something into his pocket. As you closed your legs and moved to grab your panties, your eyes slightly widened at the realization that he had taken them. San confirmed it by patting his back pocket, taking a sip of water as he said "Don't worry, they're safe with me."

"How am I supposed to walk out of here without them?" You asked, San's smirk only growing as he said "Who said we were done here?" You raised an eyebrow as San flipped the tablet to face him, leaning forward with dark eyes, smirking as he asked "How do you feel about dessert tonight, baby?"

"Shh baby, remember, we aren't home where you can scream my name baby. Here, give them to me"

You moaned as San gripped your chin, making you face him as he continued to fuck into your pussy from behind, propping one of your legs up onto the table to fuck you deeper. You gripped the tablecloth and San's hair as he moved, fighting the urge to moan louder. You bit your lip as San pulled back, his eyes now blown out as he moaned quietly "There we go baby, let me give you my present for working so hard" San began to kiss down your neck, his free hand moving to bunch up your dress more at your hips to use as leverage as he began to move faster.

The only sounds that left you both were hushed moans and the sound of your cock plowing into your pussy, the squelching noises driving San crazy. "San, slow down, you're-"

"Shh, my pussy is talking to me" San groaned, his eyes locked on the sight of his cock moving in and out of your pussy, his tongue moving over his lips as he moved faster. You reached forward further on the table as San pushed you forward with every thrust, San's eyes landing on the cake you both ordered. "Here" San leaned forward, his hips still busy with their rough pace as he was able to keep his upper body up to grab a fork, gathering some of the vanilla cake onto his fork before he leaned down with you, his chest now against your back as he held it to your lips. "Say ahh, honey."

San didn't bother to stop moving as he fed you, chuckling at the moans that did escape you, praising you as he kissed your cheek.

"You're doing so well baby. Here's more, take it from my finger, yeah?" San dragged his finger along the frosting, holding it up to your lips as his pace sped up. You couldn't help but drop your head as his new pace, the frosting leaving San's finger to now land across your cheek. San chuckled at the sight, clicking his tongue disapprovingly as he said "that's not what was supposed to happen baby. You were supposed to open your mouth, look at the mess you made." He continued his disapproving tone as he pushed himself up to stand behind you once more, deciding to take on the opportunity of having you bent against the table like this.

You gasped as San landed a slap against your ass, his pace picking up speed he chuckled, saying "Look at how you jumped baby. All because you couldn't just open your mouth for me. Why? All because this cock feels just too good?" San punctuated each word with a hard thrust, chuckling gently as you nodded. He placed his hands back on the table, leaning down to lick a stripe up your cheek where the frosting was before he moaned "You're acting so messy, aren't you baby? Allowing your husband to have his way with you in a restaurant like this where anyone can walk by and hear us."

San's words and his pace pushed you closer to the edge, nodding before letting out another choked-out moan as San delivered another smack to your ass, his hands now gripping both cheeks as he quickened his pace, groaning "You're just my little slut, right baby? Anytime, anywhere I can give you this cock, my tongue, my fingers, anything, you'll take it right?"

"Yes San" You began to feel tears brimming in your eyes, San's lips pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek as he whispered "That's what I love about you, honey. You'll let me plow this perfect pussy over and over again, giving you pleasure just the way you'd like."

"What if someone were to walk in right now, baby?" San panted, his hips rolling against the flesh of your ass as he leaned forward to bite and kiss your shoulder, continuing to talk, almost to himself as he moaned "You look so pretty like this baby, god, it makes me want to take a picture of you like this. Let the whole world see how beautiful my wife is."

San could tell you were close, leaning down to kiss up your back as he groaned "Don't hold back, please don't. Cum baby, please cum" You gasped at his words, rushing to sit up at his words on your elbows and grip his hair, pulling him into a deep kiss to muffle yourself as your cum coated all over his cock. San cursed at the feeling, keeping you up as his hands separated your ass cheeks, watching as his now cum coated cock plowed into you, the sight bringing him close to the edge.

"Where do you want me to cum tonight, Honey? Want me to fill up this perfect fucking pussy?" He asked desperately against your shoulder, kissing wherever he could as his pace grew rougher, chasing his release as you nodded, pulling him into another deep kiss as he came, his hips shuddering against your ass as your tongue locked with his. San massaged your body as you both kissed, whispering praise and compliments before he pulled back, licking his lips as he pressed his forehead against yours, giving you both a moment to calm down.

"Do you think we were too loud?" You asked as San slowly pulled out, shaking his head as he placed a kiss to your shoulder once more before he pulled back with a gentle mile. "No. But even if we were, I paid extra to ensure that we were in a room with no one to either side of us"

"You thought of everything, huh?" You asked as he helped you get ready, laughing gently as he gave you a smile wink. Once you both were appropriate, San paid the bill before gently holding your hand, leading you with a proud smile out of the restaurant. San gently swung your hands as you both walked, making you laugh gently as you both approached the car.

"Wait, before you get in" San hummed, opening the trunk to take out a bouquet of roses he had hidden. As he held them out to you, he met your eyes once again with hearts in them as he said "I'm so, so proud of you honey. I cannot think of anyone more deserving of that promotion than you." You smiled as San kissed you gently, handing you the roses as he gently rubbed your arms, kissing your forehead as he hummed "Congratulations again, baby"

You accepted the flowers, climbing into the front seat as San did the same with a grin on your face. San smiled as you admired the flowers, gently rubbing your thigh as he began the drive home. "Do you have anything else planned?" You asked, turning to see your husband's smile turn into a smirk, the hand on your thigh slowly moving towards your pussy as he said "well, I plan on getting my wife home and continuing our celebration in a more private setting." You spread your legs more as San pushed in two fingers, San's voice meeting your ear as he pulled up to a red light, hunger lacing it as he hummed "starting right now."

BAMBIKISS | 2025

[metaeori]

Ace is obsessed with how your body moves.

like genuinely, he can’t stop looking.

Your body infatuated Ace and he just can’t stop starting no matter what he does, his eyes are glued to you.

Warnings: semi suggestive themes

Not me writing this like it’s an ao3 one shot.anyway hope you enjoy! (MY SHAAYYLAAAA)

WC: (idk it won’t let me highlight it all LOL)

It all started when you were stretching on the open deck out in the sun. Your shirt slightly lifted as your arms raised up beyond your head, slowly revealing your toned stomach and arced back as your v-line was exposed just a smidge.

Ace just couldn’t stop looking, he was a fair distance away but that didn’t stop him from seeing it all in 4K. His eyes couldn’t peel away from your stomach and the way your shorts were suddenly so short on your hips. His mouth was practically ajaw, what was coming over him? This was ridiculous, this isn’t the old days we’re a women’s ankles were the most lewd things.

He felt like a little boy walking in on a girl by accident for the first time. And then just like that, the view was gone. You finished stretching and carried on doing whatever you were doing before. Ace quickly diverted his gaze back to the open sea behind him, trying to maintain his normal composure again. But that image of you just couldn’t get out of his head, and so that whole scene slowly devoured him like the plague. Slowly eating him everyday, at random times and random places.

Now his eyes couldn’t leave you no matter what you did; when you crossed your legs when you sat, when your fingers caressed the edges of paper of the book you were reading, and especially when you looked up to talk to him. He got a whole view how could he not stare right there… he tried to play it off so nonchalantly but it was pretty obvious he was looking to everyone but you. His eyes jerked and his words stumbled a little as he tried his best to respond to whatever you were yapping about.

However it only got worse when the two of you departed for some expedition, you of course were a gunslinger; your weapon? Why a sniper of course! You and ace were situated on top of some high building rooftop, with very little cover to stay low. Being the gunslinger you were it didn’t phase you, you just had to station yourself lower to be out of sight.

You clocked the gun from behind your back to your front starting to get down on your arms and knees. You then laid out on the ground pointing the sniper in the direction of the target. You lowered the lower half of your body to the ground more, with one knee up for better balance. Ace was behind you and loorrrd he was drooling, he tried to remain calm but he just couldn’t. Your body looked godly from this angle, his mind could only run wild with his imagination that was vividly showing many scenarios.

The heat was rising up in him, his eyes outlined your figure. Tracing your curves his eyes followed your stomach to where they turned into your hips and from there to your heightened knee. He gulped down the lump in throat as his eyes practically fondled you. Then he found his hands heading straight for your waist, it was so small he bet he could wrap just one of his hand around it. He was inches away, the burning feeling intensifying as he itched closer to your cool skin.

“Ace..? What are you doing?” A confused looked on your face as you peaked at him from your shoulder.

“Oh! Um..I was just looking at the surrounding for you!” He jerked back his hand so quickly and blurted out some excuse hoping you would buy it.

Which you did cause your stupid and believe anything Ace tells you. You gave him a puzzled look and turned you head to look back through the snipers scope, carrying on like there wasn’t a man fanning over your body behind you.

Ace let out a sigh of relief, this poor boy wasn’t gonna get over his obsession anytime soon. Nor did he want to really, he only hoped that more opportunities like this would present more of your figure for him to ravish.

[k8martins]

. ⋆ ๑ wrapped around your finger

summary: reader is a new medical intern for the lvaces and tension runs high every time they interact, finally breaking after a tough game

request: no / yes

warnings: 18+ smut, rpf

a/n: this is my first kate fic so go easy on me lmfao and i got lowkey carried away it’s around 2k words so ummmm ya purr i guess

back in april, you landed a medical internship for the las vegas aces, just in time for the excitement of draft season. not only did your job enable you to interact daily with some of the most talented athletes in basketball, but perfectly coexisted with your interests in pursuing medicine. so far, your standard role was to examine and prepare players before and after games, including team practices. any injuries or concerns were also taken care of by you. however, being shy was an issue you still had to overcome. treating players with their kinesiology tape or bringing them necessities was always attempted to be a quick motion; hurriedly fixing them up and moving on to the next task.

but some players proved to make that difficult for you. coming into work on an average day, you found yourself kneeling at the foot of the newly drafted guard— kate martin. when she had got unexpectedly chosen by the aces, you sat watching from home, marveled by her tall stature and pin straight blonde hair. she was even more alluring in person, especially from the view of applying tape to her ankles and legs every other day.

“you know the drill, just keep your foot upright and i’ll get your ankle,” you murmured, looking up at kate as she was sat in front of you. her big blue eyes met yours, and she smirked without comment. quickly averting your gaze, you pressed your lips together in an attempt to keep composure.

one thing you had learned since she joined the team was that she occasionally enjoyed poking fun at your timid mannerisms.

“loosen up a little, girl,” kate playfully punched your shoulder, “i don’t bite”.

the gesture made you laugh and mumble some unnecessary apology, but you still felt her gaze even after you looked back down. trying to focus on the task at hand was nearly impossible in this position, being on your knees before her. as you pulled more tape, your mind raced of all the things you could do to each other. if one day you could set the professionalism aside and just push her legs apart—

“you’re my favorite medical person, you know that? you always get me right,” kate continued, knowing exactly what she was doing.

you snapped out of your thoughts and felt your face grow hot, looking back up at her. “thank you,” you said, barely getting it out, “a-and you’re all set now by the way.” kate thanked you with a slight chuckle, and was up and ready for practice.

——————————————————————————

it was interactions like these that kept you up at night. all the eye contact, suggestive gestures, and tension was enough to drive you crazy. you endlessly wondered if kate had meant to fuel the tension, or if it was all just in your head. regardless, these moments made you excited to come into work every day, anticipating the next exchange you two would have.

the entire next month of your internship consisted of increasingly tense encounters with kate, with each one wondering when she would just make a move. she had started to admiringly stroke your hair while you were knelt in front of her, knowing how much it would turn you on. every once in a while she would give your hair a light tug to make you look up for no good reason other than to get a good look at you. once you understood she was taking things a smidge further, you had no problem getting a little extra touchy when handling her legs, or simply handing her things like a towel or water bottle. you ran your hands up her legs in an “innocent” manner, both of you knowing damn well you were ready to find a secluded space together.

your favorite moments to see her were before and after big games. the way her pregame excitedness would be contagious, and the way after the game she would still have energy despite being tired. this day, kate was getting ready to play in a game with high expectations for the aces. you gathered all the things she might need, and headed into the locker room, where most of her teammates were already gone. you spotted her standing right in front of her designated space, and walked towards her. kate smiled knowingly when she saw you, and didn’t move out of the way as you bent past her to set down the water and towel in her cubby. your hips grazed each other when suddenly you felt her arms snake around your lower back. you slowly got back upright, and kate kept her arms around you, moving her hands to each side of your waist.

her big hands planted on your waist took your breath away as there was no escaping her now. face to face, kate kept her gaze on you.

“i was wondering when you’d come by,” she taunted.

you swallowed thickly, your mouth hung open but the words would not come out. even after a month, she still intimidated you with her beauty.

“i’m just joking, relax,” kate said, laughing lightly.

“i know. i just had to go find the best materials for you,” you joked back, trying to keep your cool and ignore the growing heat between your legs.

kate smiled back at you, sensing how needy you were becoming. “same time back here after the game?” she questioned, her voice low.

“of course. good luck tonight, kate,” you said back.

——————————————————————————

it was a tough loss for the aces. the final score came close, but ultimately the team returned to the locker room in low spirits. the loss was hard on you too, seeing kate frustrated out on the court, but you still had to do your job. giving everyone postgame materials and accessing injuries, you noticed to have treated everyone except kate. you craned your neck around the locker room, looking for the long blonde ponytail, but she was nowhere to be seen. eventually, the team had left for the night. you were left cleaning up after them, still wondering where your favorite player was.

you had your back turned from the entrance and putting away your supplies when you heard footsteps coming towards the room. your heart immediately began to race and you turned around to see kate standing a few yards in front of you, with an exhausted but eager expression on her face.

her eyes pierced through you, and your mind raced trying to think of something to say, but it was a blur as she quickly walked to you and took your face in her hands, kissing you deeply. your body tensed up at the surprise, but quickly melted down as you remembered how long you had been waiting for this moment.

it was a hungry kiss, with her hands moving down to your waist and pulling you closer. kate completely took control of you and backed you against the wall. in the heat of the moment, you decided it was your turn to tease her.

“where.....the hell.......were you.....” you said breathlessly between kisses. kate instantly pulled away from you and scoffed.

“just talking with the coaches, baby.”

her breathless tone made you weak in the knees and she immediately went back to making out with you. her hands found their way under your shirt and began exploring all over your waist. she passionately bit at your bottom lip as she moved her cold hands up to your tits, which she desperately squeezed at. the cold touch being in just the right place earned a little whimper from your lips. kate giggled against the kiss, finding amusement in getting you so needy so fast.

you felt slightly embarrassed at how easy you were being, and decided to switch it up on kate. maintaining the kiss, you made your way back to her bench, and pushed her down. you knelt down in front of her just as you did when you took care of her, but now your dirty thoughts were becoming a reality. kate did not protest being sat down and instead threw her head back, resting it right below her name plate— “K. Martin”.

your view from the kneel made your head spin tonight, with her face still sweaty and her messy hair slightly sticking to her face. she was still out of breath and tiredly looked down at you as you parted her legs. you kept the eye contact as you gestured for her to lift her hips in order to slide down her shorts. once off, you threw them elsewhere in the room, and positioned yourself further inbetween her legs. you looked up at her one more time and saw her chest rising and falling with every movement, her eyebrows furrowed in desperation.

“here? right now? are you sure, kate?” you questioned, half taunting half being serious. you placed your hand on her inner thigh and began slowly circling her clit. she bucked her hips up at the sudden touch.

“please...please...” kate whispered, and you felt your stomach flip. all of the nights she teased you and seemed so tough were now out the window as she begged you to continue.

looking around the room, there was no sign of life besides you and kate. you turned back to her and urged her to stay quiet before going down on her. your tongue skillfully lapped around her clit and she let out a strangled cry.

“shhhhh kate you’re doing so good,” you whispered against her wetness.

you brought your fingers up to her entrance and began circling around it before slowly inserting two fingers. you kept the sucking at a steady pace but began to finger her quickly. looking up at kate, her eyes were screwed shut and stomach tense. she was biting down hard on her lip, struggling to stay quiet. her constant little moans single-handedly almost made you finish, but you focused on her.

you continued eating her out as if she was going to disappear from under you, and picked up the pace. your left hand remained on her thigh and you felt her grab hold of it. she breathed hard as her other hand landed in your hair, lightly pushing your head and grasping your hair. you smiled thinking back to the times when she would have her hands in your hair while innocently getting taped up; oh how fast things can change.

“i-i’m gonna....” kate cried out, squirming beneath you and clearly reaching her limit.

the fast pace combined with tongue and fingers finally brought her to her release. kate moaned your name breathlessly over and over as she came on your fingers. eventually you stopped and she was able to ride out the high.

as soon as kate caught her breath she got you up off the ground and put you in her spot. she got on her knees and tugged at your pants.

“kate don’t you think we should stop... someone probably heard us-“

she didn’t even let you finish your sentence before she inserted her long fingers into you. kate did not hold back as she kept an unrelenting pace and began to kiss you. you moaned and panted into the kiss, struggling to kiss back.

you gave up on trying to kiss back and threw your head back, raspy moans escaping from your puffed lips. her fingers felt so good inside of you, hitting the spot with each thrust. she didn’t even need to do anything except finger you, and you were already close. you tried to moan her name but could only get out the “k” sound.

“just take it,” she demanded, getting frustrated you couldn’t kiss back.

kate began kissing down your neck and leaving very apparent hickeys all over. all you could do was moan as she took care of you, your eyes tearing up from the euphoric feeling. you tugged on her hair as you felt yourself on the edge of release. the way your hips squirmed and tears fell down your face told kate that you were ready and nodded at you to come.

her pace slowed as you relaxed from the climax and she began gently kissing your face. she wiped your tears with her other hand and ran her fingers through your messy hair.

“i got you wrapped around my finger, my favorite intern girl,” kate laughed.

“you’re so corny.”

“you.”

[meet-me-backstage]

𓃗

𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꥟ Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ꥟ It had been years since you ran away from Joel Miller, a hunter, frightened for your life and of who he had become. Before the infected roamed he was the grumpy single father of a chirpy little girl who lived across the street from you and kept himself to himself… until he didn’t, not with you at least when you began watching over Sarah while he couldn’t. He became someone who you could talk to, a friend dare you say, a silly little crush and your lifeline at the beginning of the apocalypse.

Now you are residing in Jackson, a slice of heaven in a cruel world, the perfect distraction from your past and the hell you went through to get away from it. However, you realize that the past really does always come back to haunt you when all too familiar faces arrive at Jackson and you have no other choice but to face Joel again, who makes it his mission to fix your broken friendship.

Unable to fight your heart, feelings resurface and lines blur when it becomes clear that you are just as much Joel’s lifeline as he is yours.

𝑨 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒃𝒖��𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ꥟ Horror themes, not strictly following the first game/season + not at all following the second season/game so kinda au, reader can sing and play guitar, weapons, bad language, death, grief, angst, mentions of pregnancy and stillbirth, blood, mention of vomit, violence, nightmares, PTSD, a lil smidge of dark!Joel, Jackson!Joel, soft & protective with a bit of a dad bod!Joel, unrequited love until it isn’t, jealousy, mutual pining, age gap (reader is 36 and Joel is 56) and smUUUUT (‼️) so you must be 18+ to read❗️

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨 ꥟ 13.1K (I’m sorry y’all, I got carried away with this one lol😅)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨 ꥟ Grief, mention of death, parental neglect, bad language, angst, a Platonic (with a capital ‘P’‼️) reader x Joel pre-apocalypse flashback, PTSD, nightmares, blood, violence and mentions of pregnancy.

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ‘𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞’ 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝! <𝟑

⇜ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞

THEN

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟑

'It's you... Moved into Sammy's old place across the street not that long ago, right?'

'Errr - yeah?'

'So you got a home - what're you doin' in mine?'

'Sarah invited me in.'

'She also give you the last cinnamon bun?'

'Maybe?'

''Course she did... That was mine.'

'Oh - um - ‘m sorry, Mr Miller - I didn’t kn—’

'Look - 's been a long day and this ain't a daycare so I think it's 'bout time you go home.'

That was it.

That was how you met Joel Miller.

The first day that you'd stepped foot into Joel and Sarah Miller's home, the first time that Joel had ever even acknowledged you, the first time you'd ever seen him up close rather than from across the street or your bedroom window, watching him make monotonous tasks like doing the lawn or hanging laundry look captivating... You figured that you'd just caught him at a bad time, but you didn't blame him for being irritated. He had caught you in the middle of taking a bite out of the last of the cinnamon buns that Sarah had made with the sweet Connie Adler... and you were watching Dawn of the Wolf: Part One, a horror movie that Sarah had snuck out of Joel's dvd collection.

You left just as he'd told you to, politely muttering a 'goodbye' as you did, but you were kinda annoyed that you never got to see what happened at the end of that movie, or find out what the twist was that all the movie buff's at school whispered about when it showed in the theatres at Halloween in 2001... you couldn't go at the time, so you cursed and kicked at the sidewalk whenever you saw the poster, slamming all of it's blockbusting epicness in your face.

It was Sarah's idea... really.

The whole thing.

You'd seen her before that day, just like you had Joel, across the street.

She'd wave at you, smile at you and you'd do the same while your fathers would just stare at each other, sizing the other up.

She'd knocked on your door on a lonely summer's day in 2002, your father was at work, so it didn't take much persuading on your part to run across the road with Sarah, her curly hair bouncing with each skip of your steps while she grabbed onto your hand, leading you to her home as if you didn't know where she lived, as if you hadn't seen each other through your bedroom windows and awkwardly waved before diverting your focus back onto your dreaded maths homework.

While sat on the comfy sandy-brown leather couch tucked into the bay window in the middle of the living room, holding that cinnamon bun, you and Sarah were asking each other questions. She seemed so excited just to be sitting with you, with someone who wasn't so familiar like her father or uncle, someone who wasn't a relative that she could relate to, who was closer to her age that she could befriend.

She was lonely, just as you had been.

The move was unexpected and quick... your dad had gotten a new job opportunity here in Austin, Texas - far from your home before. You knew that he would take the job without even considering that you would have to leave your friends, your boyfriend, extended family, school and, most importantly, the house that your mom made a home - the house that she took her last breath in... you'd left them all behind, never to be spoken of again.

All for him... and he was never even around.

Settling into a new high school... it was your worst nightmare. Pushing your way through narrow hallways, cramped by other students who stood in their close knit friendship groups, unwilling to welcome the newbie into their arms.

And the neighborhood... it was neighborly, but it was also quiet most of the time. However, neighbors like Connie and Danny Adler, they were around all the time to look after Connie's elderly mother, Nana... you couldn't avoid them, they'd be sat outside eating even during the winter just to greet everyone who walked by.

That was how you first met Sarah... officially. You both happened to be walking back from school at the same time, the difference between you being that Sarah was beaming, radiant, and you were frowning, dulled after a day that merged into the last, just like the rest had since you'd moved. Connie and Danny were sat outside feeding Nana, who was confined to her wheelchair and unresponsive to everything around her. You would speed-walk past to avoid them, it wasn't that you didn't like them, they were a harmless little unit, it was just that you weren't in the mood to talk... you never were.

That day was just the same, except Connie had spotted you just as Sarah was walking towards them to drop by.

She did that a lot, an example of how selfless a girl Sarah Miller was.

Connie called you over with that sprightly high-pitched voice of hers, but it wasn't that that made you stop walking, it was the pleading look that Sarah sent you afterwards. That was what made you change your mind, then you and Sarah were ushered into the Adler home to spend the evening baking cookies, to make a friend - finally.

Your first friend in Austin.

Your mood elevated significantly after that day.

Granted, Sarah was a few years younger, but she was everything that you could ask for in a friend: good company with witty humor, but also so kind. Clearly she thought the same about you, her excitement being just as evident as yours because the day after she knocked on your door and dragged you to her home, telling you how 'bored out of her mind' she was and to come try her 'kickass cinnamon swirls'.

Her hazelly green eyes lit up at the coincidence of you having never seen the first part of Dawn of the Wolf, and her dad recently buying it at the local dvd store, after she'd asked you: 'if you could pick any movie to watch right now, what would it be?'

Joel thought that he had gotten rid of you after kicking you out of his house the first time.

He was mistaken.

You and Sarah became inseparable.

You both took comfort in being the same chess piece on a shitty old chessboard with several pieces missing.

Whether you were sprawled out laughing with Sarah on her bed, listening to cds with Sarah on her boombox, sat on the couch with Sarah watching horror movies, or sat on the kitchen counter eating pancakes you made with Sarah, Joel would always utter the same two words whenever he saw you as if he didn't expect you to be in his house. It was like a routine, or a habit of his that made the lack of visitors the Miller household would get so obvious before you moved directly across the road from it in the spring of 2002.

You'd hear the engine of Joel’s truck, the jingling of keys from outside, the door swinging open and a sweaty Joel, after a long day of work, would jump out of his skin at the sight of you and Sarah together before playing it off like it was nothing, and then...

'It's you.'

'Oh - it's you.'

'Oh shi- it's you again.'

And your personal favorite: 'Jesus fuckin' chri- it's you.'

You'd snicker into your hand, oh so discreetly hiding your amusement and failing every time because you weren't exactly trying hard enough, and Joel? Joel noticed everything, and even though he always seemed irked by you, he'd watch you cross the wide and desolate road from his porch to make sure you got back home safe - maybe it was an attentive father thing, you wouldn't know anything about it... your father wouldn't know if you'd gone missing even if the local sheriff shoved your missing poster in his face.

Your dad didn't know that you'd formed a close bond with Sarah, didn't notice that you'd been in the house opposite the street, didn't even notice that you'd left.

On the rare occasion that he was at home it was like he wasn't truly there with you. He treated you like a ghost, maybe because he pictured you as one, everyone back at your hometown would tell you how much you reminded them of your momma, but you'd never know if he did think that because he would never sit with you to talk about how much it hurt him just to look at you.

He kept his distance from you, threw himself into work, mumbling a 'later, darlin'' under his breath if you decided to bother knocking on the door of his study to tell him that you'd be at Sarah's or school.

It didn't hurt you anymore, not like it did when your mom's passing felt like a freshly opened wound to your heart.

Now you woke up every morning with a little smile on your face, hugging your favorite pillow to your chest, anticipating your day spent with Sarah and the reaction that Joel would have when he'd step through the front door only to find you with Sarah in his house for the umpteenth time.

Would he smile? Probably not.

Would he laugh? Definitely not.

Would he shake his head? Probably.

Would he tell you to go home? Definitely.

You tried not to take it too personally. If there was one thing you knew about Joel from the few times that you'd seen him out in the wild, it was that he hated everybody, or he acted like he did... not including Sarah, he loved her, you could tell by the way he drove her to school every morning, the way he'd adjust her backpack while it hung on her shoulders so that the straps wouldn't dig into her skin and leave those sore red marks that you'd get from lugging your own backpack after walking back home from what felt like a never-ending day at school.

Ignoring those same sore red lines from that same backpack, you found yourself stood in your usual place, bouncing on your feet in front of the glossy white door that separates you from the cozy interior of Joel and Sarah's home.

You'd started knocking seconds ago, your tongue peeking past your lips in full concentration as you hit a fun rhythm against the wood, entirely expecting Sarah's face to be the one you're greeted with... but it isn't.

It's his... Joel's grumpy face.

Your fist is still balled and held up mid-knock.

He's never here.

Not during the day anyway.

Only Joel would loom over you like a gatekeeper to his home... Sarah would've welcomed you in by now with a wide, toothy smile and outstretched arms.

He stares down at you silently for only five seconds after he'd opened his front door, but it feels so much longer than that, like an eternity compared to a brief moment. As usual he looks disappointed by your being invading his space, the one who dared to knock on his door and disturb his peace.

"It's you - again," he grumbles unenthusiastically while he holds the door half open with his palm, still looking down on you like you are an imposition to him and his time.

There they are.

Those two words.

But you don't feel the urge to giggle or hide a timid smile this time - maybe it's getting old... kinda like him - though you're quick to rule that thought out, choosing to place the blame at the hands of his harsh scrutiny towards you with those stern brown eyes of his.

He raises an eyebrow in question, like he doesn't know why you're stood on his porch, but then you realise that you'd not said a word to him in response like you typically did, you'd not even moved a muscle - still in a statue-like state caused by your confusion at his presence as if it was such a shock to you that he actually lives in the house that he works so hard to pay for.

Your arm abruptly falls back down to your side with a faint slap, feeling a slight ache in it after holding it up for too long. Say something - say something - say something - anything, stupid— "err hi, Mr - um - Miller - is Sarah home?" You ask timidly, trying to ignore your stomach doing a series of backflips that make you feel all giddy inside.

He grunts, nodding his head before looking over his shoulder to call Sarah, who you presume is awaiting your arrival in her room. You lift your head fully, gazing up at him - he looks... clean. There's not a trace of grime on him like there normally is after he'd spent the day doing construction, his dark stubble doesn't have any wood chip stuck in it and his hair is not flattened from wearing a hard hat all day - he looks... kinda cu— "Sarah!"

"What is it, daddy?!" You hear Sarah's voice coming from the living room, you also hear the television, it sounds like a movie just by the heavy orchestral music sequence in the background of muffled dialogue.

They are watching a movie - together.

Suddenly you feel like you're invading and you never felt like that here before.

Joel's head is still faced to the side and occasionally he side-eyes you, his lips downturned and the lines of his warm-toned skin are deep at the corners of his mouth, "that kid from across the street is here again - I thought we said no visitors today!"

Your palms feel clammy and those backflips your stomach was doing before? They no longer make you feel giddy - you feel agitated at the sole existence of the man standing before you, who is now casually leaning his side against the door as if he doesn't notice the way that your face is flushed red with embarrassment.

Pfft - 'That kid.'

Why'd he have to be so mean?

Why’s he talking about you like you’re not stood right in front of him?

His sheer annoyance towards you is suddenly not as funny as you originally thought it to be... he must really hate you, even more than the other neighbors.

Why're you so butthurt about it?

"Look, kid - I ain't had a day off in a long time 'nd—," he exhales, diverting his gaze back down to you, "between you 'nd me, I'd really like to have this one day with my daughter - you think you could allow me th—"

"I have a name, asshole," you blurt before any of it processes in your head, skipping the part where your brain checks off the words and instead going straight to the part where you vocalize them.

Your heart does one particularly loud beat that you're sure even Joel hears.

Did you really just say that?

You're never gonna see Sarah again now.

After the initial shock of what you’d said washes over his features, you hear it for the first time, a low chuckle coming from Joel's mouth, albeit not at all genuine, it oozes sarcasm and his eyes are darker, colder than they were before you called him an 'asshole'. "You kiss your momma with that mouth?" His voice is smooth and smug, and there's a hint of light-heartedness in his eyes that is unfamiliar to you, angering you even more.

The fact that it was possible to make Joel laugh.

All of those dumb jokes that you'd pulled from your sleeve just to try and make him laugh, only for him to have no reaction at all.

No, it took calling him out on his assholery to get a cackle out of him, to see that prizewinning glimmer in his eyes... and your mom.

Why'd he have to make a joke about her?

You don't realise it until you feel them trickle from your tear ducts down to the corners of your mouth, but you're crying... you're crying in front of Joel Miller and to say that you're horrified is an understatement.

You hadn't cried like this since your mom... and Joel looks perplexed, like he has no idea what to do, but you can see through your blurred vision that his face looks softer, the lines around his eyes and forehead less obvious.

"What the - dad, not cool - her mom - she's—" Sarah appears behind Joel, aiming a disappointed look up at him.

Realisation spreads across his facial features, his posture stiffens and his arm drops to his side, "oh," his mouth opens further to apologize, or maybe to joke about you some more... you don't know because you run back home before you find out.

You don't look back to see if he is watching you, but you just know that he is, you can feel his gaze burning into your back as if it made any difference to your safety, as if it were strong enough that it'd stop any speeding cars from hitting you... truth was, you didn't care right now.

You were pretty sure you'd lost Sarah.

And without Sarah, you had no one.

꥟ 𓃗 ꥟

You were supposed to visit Sarah yesterday.

She remembered how you'd not gotten around to finishing that Dawn of the Wolf movie and wanted to finally finish it with you... It was what you'd initially planned to do with her the other day, when Joel opened the door and... yeah, that didn't work out. Instead, you decided that rotting in your room, reading books and junk eating would be how you spent your summer holiday.

It's way better than being bullied by some grumpy grumbling dinosaur for a neighbor, you tell yourself.

But you miss Sarah - a whole damn lot.

You miss her infectious energy, how she'd lighten the mood so easily after a heart to heart about your moms.

You'd never tell Joel, though it's not like you could now anyway, avoiding him and all, how Sarah felt safe enough around you to open up about how her mom had left without so much as a note or phone call after the divorce, when she was only a baby. She told you how she had no memory whatsoever of her mom, what she looked like, not even a photograph... At least you had those memories to hold close to your heart, a moment of finality with your mom before she left you that Sarah never got to experience.

You're seated at your desk reading with your chin rested on the palm of your hand, the book in your other. Your eyes drift to the framed photograph of your mom that you rummaged out of an old photo album you saved from the trash on moving in day.

She's looking directly at the camera, appearing as though she's smiling at you, just as you liked to remembered her - beautiful and carefree... Usually you smiled back, but you didn't tonight, not only because you weren't in the mood to or because your book had some kind of gravitational pull that lured your attention back into its pages, but because you saw, in the corner of your eye, a light outside.

With your desk's placement in front of the only window in your room and the darkening sky outside you can focus entirely on it, quickly realising that it's coming from Joel and Sarah's front porch. It had responded to motion, you notice when you see two figures, one in front of the other, a smaller and larger one, the smaller one dragging the latter across the road.

The closer that the two figures get to your home, the clearer they become.

It's Joel and Sarah.

An audible gasp leaves your lips. It looks as if Sarah has talked him into this just by the way that his steps towards your house seem hesitant, but she ignores it, dragging him with her hand that barely wraps around his forearm. Her mouth is moving too, talking up at him like she is giving him strict orders.

As they disappear under the frame of your window and step onto your own front porch, a sight you never thought you'd see, you abruptly lift yourself and lean forward, your hips digging into the edge of your desk just to observe them until you lose sight due to the tiled roof of the porch beneath your window.

Your nose and lips are pressed flat against the glass when you hear a faint knock at the door, your heart thumps once after the sound echoes throughout the house.

Another knock.

Another thud of your heart.

A call and response.

The third knock is what causes you to jump away from your window, you draw your attention away from the condensation, the marks you'd left clear on the glass and glance down at the photo of your mom, silently begging her for some form of reassurance, advice, or for her to just magically tell you what to do.

She wouldn't want you to lose your friendship with Sarah.

She wouldn't want you to be alone.

She'd want you to open the door.

She’d tell you to go open the door.

A fourth knock sounds... You decide to go and answer after an internal battle between your brain and heart.

It isn't until you're approaching your front door that you notice the ache in your hips from digging them into your desk in a vigorous effort to study every movement from the father and daughter on the other side of it - you're sure it's going to leave bruises tomorrow.

After deeply inhaling and exhaling you reach for the door handle, twisting and opening it to peek your head through the gap between the door and it's frame, feigning curiosity, like you had no idea who to expect behind it.

"—n't you worry, honey - we'll try tomorrow," Joel tells Sarah. They've got their backs to you, about to give up on you, but they're still on the porch so you stop yourself from internally cursing at how much time you'd wasted to answer - it's not too late.

Sarah nods half-heartedly, her posture visibly deflated.

"Hey," you murmur before you can stop yourself, shut the door and wither away in your room at the hands of your cowardice.

Sarah's head turns first, then Joel's.

Sarah says your name, relief crossing over her features, not looking so defeated as she grabs onto her dad's arm again and pulls him to stand directly in front of you.

Joel does not look so pleased to be dragged around by a fourteen year old after he'd clearly just got back home from work. He was still in his construction clothes, donning his white hardhat, a padded navy jacket that has sawdust and stains all over it as well as tight-fitting blue jeans and boots that had seen better days.

You slowly open the door, it creaks as you reveal the innards of your home… The dim light from the bulb above you spotlights the emptiness, the lack of family photographs and decoration.

Joel is examining the space behind you, his eyes flicker around… He spots the differences between his home and yours, a loving home and an empty one. He wasn't the perfect father, he was exhausted by the time he got back home to Sarah, received constant work calls and had to run around after his brother, Tommy, all the damn time... but at least he made time for Sarah at the end of the day.

Suddenly it's so alarmingly obvious to Joel as to why he'd find you in his house most evenings.

Even what he had to offer for a home was better than the hand you'd been dealt.

Sarah tugs at his arm, "dad - dad," she whispers, grabbing his attention the second time she calls him.

He glances down at her, subtly nodding and muttering an 'I know I know - gimme a second' under his breath, acting as if you're not stood right there... He does that a lot. His hair peeks out messily from under his hat when he lifts his head to awkwardly make eye contact with you. "Ki—" he stops before even starting, and just when you're considering slamming the door in his face, he calls you by your name.

Your jaw goes slack, "w-what - do you want?"

"’S—" he scratches the side of his glistening neck and you gain some fulfilment from that - him being nervous for once. "Your dad home?"

"No," you state, shrugging your shoulders, "he's workin' late."

Joel nods, fighting the urge to roll his eyes - he'd heard that one before, many times from his own mouth - to Sarah, "'course he is." He bites his tongue, you can tell by the way his lips pout while Sarah silently urges him to speak, “Sarah and I - we was wonderin’ if you wanted to—” he looks down at Sarah again like he’d forgotten the words on a script and needed some guidance going through it, “we thought it’d be nice if you joined us - for dinner - ‘n’ watch that movie you like—”

“Dawn of the Wolf?” You blink profusely, hopeful.

“Yeah - Dawn of the Wolf.”

You divert your eyes to Sarah, who is nodding eagerly with each word that comes out of her father’s mouth.

When he’s done talking she looks at you, begging you with those wide eyes that you could never say no to, and her grip on Joel’s arm even tighter, stopping his blood from flowing where her fingertips are pressing into his skin. “Pleaseee pleaseee pleaseee join us!” Sarah adds.

You can’t leave her in suspense for a second longer.

“Sure - I’ll um - join you,” you answer, breaking out into a grin at the same time Sarah does, who drops her dad’s arm and steps forward, pulling you into a hug. She squeezes you so forcefully into her arms, so carried away by her excitement that you can hardly breathe between giggling, “it’s - only been - two days.”

“I don’t care - I missed you,” she confesses to you without a care in the world now that she had her friend back.

Another choked giggle escapes you as you wrap your arms around her, “I - missed you too.”

Joel is stood still watching you and Sarah hug each other… You swear that you see a hint of a smile plastered across his lips at the sight, “c’mon you two, dinner’ll be gettin’ cold.”

“Okay, daddy,” Sarah mumbles while you nod against her shoulder… Then she gives Joel a thankful glance after letting go of you.

You shut yourself outside with them and Sarah holds onto your hand just as she did the first time she invited you into her home, pulling you away from your porch and towards the road.

Joel follows close behind so you’re sandwiched between both members of the Miller family. He strides with his serious eyes glued to you, Sarah and the road, but you’re sure that he’s feeling some kind of relief underneath the tough exterior at the fact that he’s not the one being pulled around by his daughter anymore.

He says your name again, clearer this time, and just as you’re about to cross the dimly lit street, you’re stopped by his hand on your shoulder, a light touch, but you feel the roughness of his palm and fingers all the same.

His eyes can look so kind when he means for them to be.

“Sarah—” he nods in the direction of his little girl, who has let go of your hand and broken into a sprint towards her front door in so much of a frenzy of excitement that she has momentarily forgotten about yours and Joel’s existence, “she told me about your mom.” Joel squeezes your shoulder, not enough for it to hurt, but enough for you to know that he means his words, and is trying to make up for his awkward delivery of them, “if I’d have known I wouldn’t have said what I said.”

You hum, nervously achknowledging his odd way of apologizing.

For a split second he looks down at his old boots, the soles of them falling apart, shaking his head and muttering to himself at the same time. Then he clears his throat and meets your gaze, “I’m sorry - really, I am.”

Two words you never expected to hear from Joel Miller.

NOW

𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

'It's you - 's really you.'

Joel, just a few metres away from you, stares at your barely conscious body that had fallen into the stacks of hay bales behind you, knocking them all to the ground and ruining the neat orderly way that you'd first organised them a few days ago. Luckily the back of your head hadn't made any contact with the concrete or wooden shelving, narrowly missing them all on your way down. The thudding sound and force of your body hitting the stacks had sent hay flying and falling much slower than you did around and on top of you, covering you like an itchy fleece blanket.

They all rush to your side, Rick, Maria, Tommy, Jean and a teenage girl you didn't even know... Not Joel, he stays exactly where he is, static and bewildered, just as you had been minutes ago when you first turned and saw him.

He places his hand over his heart, rubbing up and down when he feels the beat of it becoming uncontrollably fast, causing his lips to tremble and let out fast and shaky breaths... it's the sight of you laying there, unable to move because of him, but he cannot bring himself to drag his eyes away for his own good.

He's so sure that you'll vanish if he does, that he'll look away and none of this will have been real, that Tommy isn't here and Jackson is just a figment of his imagination.

The man who owned Jackson Ranch, Rick, Joel had found out, scooped you into his arms effortlessly. Joel was introduced to the younger man by Tommy and Maria, who were being very obvious about their uneasiness as soon as they led him and Ellie towards the ranch during a very tense tour of Jackson... It was crystal clear to Joel that something was going on that he didn't know about by the way that Maria whispered in Tommy's ear the closer they got to the stable.

Joel caught a few snippets by turning his head to the right so that his good ear faced the direction of their private discussion...

'You don't know her like I do, Tommy.'

'What're you talkin' about? 'Course I do.'

'No, you don't - not anymore... I'm telling you, she is not ready for this.'

'She's gonna find out sooner or later - might as well be sooner, don't you think?'

Perhaps some part of Maria agreed with her husband, she stayed silent after that.

Joel still had no idea what the fuck they were talking about and if there was one thing that pissed him off, it was being left in the dark, especially after travelling all this way, convinced that his little brother was in serious trouble and needed rescuing, or dead and needed burying.

He got so impatient that he was even considering killing Tommy himself there and then, right in the middle of the stable in front of all the horses, Ellie, everybody... but he decided against it, wanting to uncover whatever mystery Tommy and Maria were trying to hide from him.

'You gonna tell me?' He interrupted them just as they stepped out onto the snowed over grazing grounds for the horses, ignoring the confused looks he received from Rick, Jean and Ellie.

'Tell you what?' Both Maria and Tommy blurted at the same time.

'Whatever the fuck it is you're tryin' to hide.'

Maria sent a look towards her husband.

'Brother, you might wanna take a few breaths before I tell—’

'Tell me before I do somethin' I regret.'

'It's—'

That's when Joel saw you walking out of a barn and towards the shelter full of hay.

He'd recognise you anywhere, even after how long it'd been since he saw you last.

Sixteen goddamn years.

The thought ran through his mind, that he’d finally succumbed to his old age and was losing it... Exhausted after travelling across the country.

But then it all made sense... you were the reason why Tommy and Maria had been acting so shifty about leading him here.

You worked here.

You lived here.

He managed to croak out your name in the midst of his shock before he shoved himself through Tommy and Maria and headed in your direction, calling out for you louder.

Tommy and Maria quickly caught up with him, telling him to 'slow down', to 'think about this' while the others followed close behind, but he ignored them all, focused entirely on you holding a hay bale in your arms.

It was you.

It was really you.

You're really here... Here in Jackson.

Seeing you cradled in Rick's arms, your face in the crook of his neck, your tears staining his skin and your knees bent over his arm, Joel realizes just how real you are. You are a real, living and breathing person made up of organs, limbs and skin that he once knew and not some story-book character from a chapter he'd read a long time ago.

"Can I - do somethin'?" Joel finds himself asking Rick while staring at your mostly motionless form.

Rick had also been staring down at you, tracing his fingertips over the creases at the bend of your knee to soothe your distressed mumbling and restless stirring... That is until he hears Joel's voice, the helplessness of his tone not going unnoticed, but Rick is too angry to care about it.

Dealing with another Miller arriving in Jackson is not his current priority... you are.

"I think you've done enough for now, don't you?" Rick spits with a glare directed at Joel that doesn't waver until after he passes the older man and sets his eyes on the metal gates leading onto one of the many streets in Jackson. Your street, your house, it is only a small distance from the stable and Rick is determined to get you there, "let's get you home," he mumbles, the stubble on his chin tickling your forehead.

Joel watches Rick's every move until the two of you disappear, too small for him to see, even if he squints.

Maria pulls Ellie aside and Tommy brings a hand to Joel's shoulder, shaking it a little to divert Joel's attention onto him. Joel's eyes, full of unanswered confusion, flicker erratically across Tommy's familiar facial features, grasping desperately for anything recognisable in order to try and make sense of a situation he never pictured happening - seeing you again.

Tommy's moustache, though it's darker than Joel's graying facial hair, it mirrors his own. The same eyes and hair, although again, Joel's show signs of his aging with the odd gray hair and sunken eyes that have seen way too much. After studying Tommy's similar freckles dotted along his smoother, paler skin... Joel found that he still couldn't make sense of any of it, which alarms him to a disturbingly high degree.

On the rare occasion that Joel had no idea what to do, Tommy would be there - his little brother was surprisingly good at that, given the amount of times Joel had to take charge and save his ass when it came to money or business.

When Sarah died in Joel's arms, you were there, Tommy was there too. His little brother knew that there was nothing that could be done to save his precious niece... She was gone.

Joel was hysterical, in no place to make any rational decisions, and neither were you after watching your best friend take her last breath... it only got worse when the realisation dawned on the three of you that there was no time or way of burying her, the infected were everywhere, soldiers were everywhere.

It was chaos.

Tommy took matters into his own hands. He led you both to safety that night, over a bridge and eventually to a triage clinic.

Right now Joel only sees doubt in Tommy's eyes, even his little brother doesn’t know what to do, "Tommy - I—" his voice cracks.

Tommy gives Joel his best attempt at a reassuring smile, "C'mon - we'll talk over a drink."

For the first time in a long time, Joel feels useless.

A drink could help take the edge off a little.

꥟ 𓃗 ꥟

You can hear distant, panicked voices surrounding you, but you can't see, nothing but darkness anyway.

It's a safe place... away from Joel.

He may have somehow managed to find you in Jackson, but he could never find you here in this state between consciousness and unconsciousness.

You focus on the gentle rocking of your body, calming words spoken into your ear, and even though you have no clue what is being said it lulls you into a peaceful rest until you're still, no longer being cradled or lullabied, you're laying on your mattress alone.

In an instant you don't as safe as you did before.

The blackness that envelopes you turns red.

Blood.

You're drowning in it again.

There hadn't been any time to take a long breath, you’re engulfed by it immediately this time and your legs kick violently, swimming your way up towards the surface before whatever it was that grabbed you last time could wrap itself around your ankles and drag you down further.

It had to be Joel, a monstrous, inhuman devil incarnate of him that is trying to kill you in various ways.

Part of you questions why you can't hear his voice.

Or see him.

He’s always here.

Maybe he's waiting for you to reach the surface of this pool of death that knows no limit.

The crimson redness of your vision becomes lighter as you near your survival, throwing your arms out as widely as you can just for one breath of fresh air… that's all that matters, not the likelihood of him being there at the finish line - you're that desperate as you feel yourself choking through gurgling, metallic-tasting screams.

Mid-scream, your face comes into contact with the surface and you squint, seeing the silhouette of a broad-shouldered being above you. Joel had been waiting for you here rather than below, teased you into believing that you could escape, given you hope only for it to backfire.

You decide in a split second that lashing out on him is your last possible resort to escape, so you reach above your head as you take prolonged, exaggerated breaths.

"Woah - hey - hey, it's me!" A voice unfamiliar to your nightmares calls to you.

It's Rick.

Your eyes fly open, panicked, and you’re breathing rapidly through your mouth. You've got the collar of Rick's off-white shirt balled into your fists, frozen when you realise that none of it had been real. You’re laying in bed, your bedding soaked with sweat again.

Rick's face is close and his large hands are wrapped around your wrists, urging you with small tugs to loosen your tight grip on his shirt, "it's me," he repeats calmly.

"R-Rick?" You murmur as if you're unsure, but you can see that it's him and not Joel, or Tommy even, because your side lamp is on, the light of it hitting the left side of his face.

"Yeah," he murmurs as quietly as you had questioned him, "you were havin' a nightmare."

You feel your cheeks flush when you notice your thumbs coming into contact with Rick's jugular, still in attack mode, "sorry - I - I thought you were—" Joel - you stop yourself, but Rick isn't stupid, he knows exactly who you mistook him to be, "someone else."

"Hm," Rick leans forward on the wooden chair beside your bed and brings his hands together to rest on the edge of your mattress.

He looks worn out by the events of the day... It's dark out now, he must've been sat with you since you'd passed out at the shelter.

Oh shit.

Pearl.

Shimmer.

The thought of them starving makes you jolt your upper half up and tear your duvet off of you, "Shimmer - Pearl, they need feedin' - I - they’ll be wondering where I a—"

"They've been fed - don't you worry about that," he coaxes you back down without laying a hand on you, but you notice that you're no longer wearing your work jacket or boots, he must've taken them off while you were asleep.

"What? How? Pearl would never let you do that."

Rick nods, "Jean's been coverin' for me while I've been here 'n' - y'know Jean is Pearl's second favorite, you bein' her first of course," he talks to you as if you hadn't been on the verge of killing him minutes ago which calms your nerves, but it doesn't stop you from feeling guilty about it.

You nod, frowning. The red marks that you'd left on his neck are starting to bruise, "I'm so sorry, Rick."

"For what?"

"These," you mutter, timidly reaching out to point out the red patches, your index finger accidentally brushing one of them, "shi—"

"'S okay... Didn't get me quite so bad this time," he smiles, a glint of cheekiness in his eyes.

The fact that he's joking with you instantly relaxes you, but your back rests against your bed's headboard only for you to jolt forward again a second later, "but - the whole ranch - all your workers - they must be wonderi—"

"Maria got some extra hands in. Everything is covered so stop your fussin', you'll give yourself another concussion."

You huff, reluctantly sinking back against the headboard again, nodding. "Where's Maria now?"

Rick blinks up at you, "at the Tipsy Bison - probably helpin' Seth with clearin' up."

Shit.

You whip your head in the direction of the digital clock stood on the middle of your side-table by your lamp and that same framed photo of your mom you had on your desk in Austin twenty years ago.

21:57.

Triple shit.

The movie.

The 'date' - with Rick.

"Oh Rick - the movie," you sigh, wanting to just deflate back into your bed and cocoon yourself in your duvet.

Rick chuckles, "didn't want to see it anyway." His face flushes pink, making the forming bruises even more red than they were before, "I er - was only goin' for you, thought that much was obvious."

You smile shyly at his confession, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes and Rick sees it.

You wanted to see the movie.

You wanted to go on that 'date' with Rick.

You wanted to make amends with Maria... Tommy too.

Rick, careful not to startle you, slides his right hand across your sheets towards your own one that is laying palm-side up and slack beside your thigh. He watches as his warm fingertips brush over yours before searching your eyes, which instantly widen at his touch and meet his, "there's always tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

He nods, his already messy slicked back hairstyle from running his fingers through it all day to ease his stress falls in front of his ears, the curls at the tip of each strand framing his ocean eyes. "If you're feelin' any better, yeah, tomorrow - after work. We'll meet at the Tipsy," he slides his hand further over yours, testing the waters, "how about it?"

"Sure."

"Alright then - it's a date."

He covers your hand completely with his own and finally, you respond, turning your hand underneath his so that they're in the form of an 'x' and curling your fingers over his knuckles.

In the moment you don't feel so bad about passing out in front of several pairs of eyes because it got you here - yes, with an uncomfortable headache and a sore back, but also an actual date with Rick.

A firm knock at your front door bellows throughout your house, so loud that you feel the vibration of it in your bones too.

Rick lets out a small groan of annoyance while you jump out of your skin, your hand shaking underneath his. He diverts his attention back to you from the open doorway leading to the landing and staircase. "Must be that asshole again," he grumbles under his breath, shaking his head, disappointed at your moment being ruined by whoever it is.

Your eyebrows furrow... what asshole could he mean? "Tommy?"

It's not Tommy, you know it. He wouldn't show up at your house out of the blue like this, Maria wouldn't let him and he'd have listened to her.

No, you know who it is, you can see it in Rick's eyes too, the answer - you just don't want to admit it.

"No - the other one—" he breaks eye contact, dropping his gaze back down to your hand, which is holding his like a vice, "Joel."

If your head didn't hurt before, it certainly hurts now.

Your breath hitches, "J—"

"He's been out there knockin' all day."

"Did you - answer?"

"I did.” Rick bites his lips together.

"Heee - say anythin' to you?" You ask without thinking, curious, your heart hammering inside your chest harder than Joel is knocking.

"Not much... just that you're - old friends." 'Old friends' - that's one way of putting it - Rick notices the way that you tense up at Joel's exact words, "he - er - wanted to see you—" you subconsciously shake your head, "yeah, I figured as much so I told 'im to leave - this is the—" Rick counts, looking down at his fingers while he does, "sixth time he's come back."

You find that hard to believe at first, surely Maria would've warned him off, Tommy too... Then you remember that Joel was never one for rules that weren't his own.

He won't leave.

Not until he sees you.

What does he want from you?

To sit and reminisce on the old days with an 'old friend'?

Like they’re something fond to look back on - like they hold a dear place in your hearts - like you hadn't tried to forget them all with every ounce of your being for the last sixteen years - like you could forget what he did to all those innocent people... to you.

What more could he want from you than all of the time he'd already taken? Another minute - another hour - another day? Week? Year?

Your hand abruptly slips away from Rick's at the same time another knock is planted against your front door.

You look to the photo of your mom beside you.

Although the glass in front of it is cracked and the frame holding it is chipped from travelling with you from place to place since the beginning of the outbreak, the radiance of her smile hasn’t faded after everything and you still pleaded for advice from her from time to time…

She’d tell you to go open the door.

"Everythin's fine—" Rick nods before rising from the chair, "I'll just - send him on his way - again... and bring you up a glass of water," he mutters unconvincingly, knowing that it's not going to work - you know that it's not going to work.

Your hand reaches out to grab Rick's wrist, immediately he stops in his tracks to assist you with anything you need. He's prepared, tired as he is, to sit beside you all night until Joel eventually gets too tired to play this 'cat and mouse' game with you... but little to Rick's knowledge, you've already admitted defeat. You shake your head, "no—" your throat bobs up and down, "I'll do it."

Rick opens his mouth to argue, but nothing he can say will change your mind - or at least you don't want him to try to, otherwise you fear that Joel will be waiting for you outside forever.

"It's got to be me."

He nods once before stepping aside so that you have the space to lift yourself onto your feet, then he follows, keeping a hand in line with your back in case you lose balance. You're grateful for his help because your legs feel like jelly, wobbling with each step you take. Whether it's because of the fall earlier or Joel Miller at your door, you're not sure - probably both. You're also grateful for his support in your decision to answer the door yourself, you're not so sure you would if you had been on your own. You could imagine yourself laying in bed, Joel knocking like he is now, and doing nothing but hold your pillow over your ears.

The silence between you and Rick on the way to your front door would be deafening if all your thoughts running around in circles came to a halt and your heart's unusually fast pounding came to a stop.

You have a home, a life and work that Joel cannot interfere with anymore.

You're at the bottom of the staircase.

You have work in the morning and he can't be there when you leave so you might as well get rid of him now.

You're standing directly at the front door.

You might think this is stupid now, but you'll be thanking yourself tomorrow, when you're drinking with Rick and completely Joel-less.

You're gripping onto the door handle like it's a life or death decision, whether you choose to twist it or not.

This is the good kind of defeat that'll finally allow you to move on with your life, to say a final goodbye to Jo—

You open the door.

The door that acted as a wall between you is knocked down and you're exposed to the brown eyes that had the ability to turn you into a puddle of mush all those years ago. You're terrified that if you look into them again you'll find out that they still have that same effect, but you force yourself to anyway, convinced that this'll be the last time you’ll ever have to face him.

Joel's mouth is ajar - he'd expected for it to be Rick answering again just to tell him to leave.

He's still wearing the same clothes that he was wearing when you first saw him, but your vision is much less blurry than it had been before. He looks cold, his lips almost the shade of the purple grapes that grew in several batches outside the greenhouses during the summer this year. You watch them closely as he mouths what looks like 'it's you', but his lips must be so numb from waiting out here for you that they aren't moving the way he wants them to.

Your breath hitches when you sheepishly meet each other's eyes, neither of you blink, you just stare until you physically can't anymore - when your eyes start stinging, begging you to just close them for one millisecond, but even that's too long.

"Can I - come in?" He manages to ask, hugging his arms around himself, squeezing, but you're too busy examining everything that you'd missed earlier, everything that had changed since you last saw him: he has more salt than pepper hair on his cheeks and above his top lip, a scar under his eye, new wrinkles engraved into his skin and the scar on his right temple is much more faded than you remember it to be... he looks disheveled, but that isn’t new, Joel looked scruffy most of the time before, but now he looks even more like time had passed him by without even realising it, without him doing a single thing for his own health— the man himself interrupts by saying your name, "please."

His voice and your name had been a brutal combination from the moment that he first said it when he knocked on the door of your home back in Austin, so you're not surprised at your brain spiralling, trying desperately to process it without malfunctioning.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Rick chimes in, making his presence known to Joel, making it clear that while he had been out here freezing his ass off, Rick had been with you in your home.

It pisses Joel off, that Rick had had all this time with you alone, and as soon as he gets the opportunity to have some with you, he is being interrupted by some uppity stranger he'd not met twelve hours ago that clings onto you like fungus clings onto infected. "Do you mind backin' off a little, buddy?"

"Actually I d—" Rick goes to step in front of you, but you stop him by placing your hand flat on his chest.

"Rick," you scold him in a whisper, instantly grabbing the attention of both men.

Joel's eyes are wide while yours are peeking up at him, "what're you thinkin'?"

"I think she wants you to leave," Rick blurts, unwilling to back away like Joel had told him to.

"That might be what you're thinkin', not what she is—"

If looks could kill, Rick would be slaughtered by Joel and dead on the floor - your heart thuds at the possible outcome of this conversation if Rick didn't shut the hell up. "Rick!" You push at his chest with the hand that is still resting on it, "I've got this."

"You’re sure?" He asks, giving Joel the stink eye.

"Mhm, go fetch me that glass of water."

Rick nods, his eyes suspiciously flickering between you and Joel before he leaves the two of you alone... You didn't want this either, to be alone with the man who haunted your mind night and day, but if you wanted to end this once and for all, Rick couldn't be here gritting his teeth at Joel every five seconds.

"Now that your puppy dog is outta the way—" Joel keeps rubbing at his sides, “is it what you want?" His eyes, focused, trying to spot any trace of doubt in yours, "f'me to leave?"

Yes... no - god, you don't know anymore. The fact that he's giving you the choice disturbs you, like it's a trick question.

What'll he do if you say no?

Or if you say yes?

Why couldn't he just force his way into your home and be done with it?

You nod your head unconsciously - yes, you want him to leave, but you can't let him leave, not yet. You exhale, not believing that you're about to let source of your nightmares into the safety of your home, "no."

His thick coat, the colour of damp sand, brushes past the arm of your t-shirt, the same one that you put on for work this morning, it's just as discoloured as his from hanging around horses all day every day… You hadn't felt self-conscious about your appearance until now, stood directly under the main light of your living room.

Joel looks uncomfortable too under the bright light, knowing how much he had changed in the last sixteen years - how much older he must look to you now.

Just say it... tell him that you never want to see him again.

"J-Joel - I - I never—"

"This where you been all this time?"

There it is... the reason why you had left him and Tess without a word. He wouldn't have let you go without interrogating you, without trying to talk you out of it, knowing that you would've listened - and probably stayed in the same miserable situation, stuck in the Boston QZ, pregnant, living with a man who you feared that you didn't know anymore, who you loved, who was willing to sacrifice you and your unborn baby for supplies... and with his partner, who you had to listen to him fuck every night for two years.

A part of you doesn't want him to know what you went through to get here, what you sacrificed, what life had been like since then... that it hadn't been what you hoped for it to be. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that there was some regret on your part for jumping ship.

You wouldn't have lost your baby.

Charlie would still be breathing.

No, he can’t know the prices you had to pay.

"No," you nibble on your bottom lip.

"That's it—" he breathlessly chuckles, but he's not happy, far from it, "that's all you got for me?"

"It's the truth." The very vague truth.

"No it ain't."

"Yes it—" you're prepared for a back and forth of 'no it ain'ts' and yes it is-es', but Rick interrupts, bringing in your glass of water, which you snatch and chug down in a matter of seconds before slamming the empty glass onto the coffee table between you and Joel. The glass doesn't break, but the ring underneath wobbles on the table's surface due to the trembling of your hands, "is," you finish before muttering a 'thank you' in Rick's direction.

"No problem. I'll just be - in the kitchen," Rick sighs out, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, "call me if you need anythin'."

You nod, watching Joel closely as he murderously watches Rick leave the room.

The sound of glass circling over wood fades into silence.

Joel's eyes are back on you in a flash, "where were you before you got here?"

You shrug your shoulders, "I - I don't remember - we moved around a lot."

"We?"

"Mhm."

"Who's we?"

"Maria's group."

Joel's lips tighten into a thin line, mustering up more questions in his head. In a swift few movements he pinches his gloves off of his hands, flinging the garments onto the two-seater couch to his left and bringing a hand up to his forehead, rubbing his fingers over the creases on his skin, "'Maria - she find you out there?"

You gulp, blinking at him, "a - handful of her people took me to her."

"When?" He peeks at you through his fingers.

Your bottom lip quivers - why'd he have to do this? Why'd he have to remind you of the worst day of your life? "W-winter," your eyes gloss over, but you refuse to let any tears fall, sucking them back behind your eyes only for them to block your nose and make you sniffle, "sixteen years ago."

Joel's fingers trail over his nose, pinching the bridge of it with his index finger and thumb - his eyes are closed, "where?"

"A small town in Colorado - Silverton."

"Colorado," he repeats under his breath, letting his hand fall away from his face so that he can really see your raw reaction to his next question, "was Charlie with you?" Your jaw falls, immediately about to answer his question, that yes, your friend was with you, and you wouldn't have made it to Colorado alive without her... but Joel stops you before you can spill the truth in a frantic moment of weakness, "'cause there ain't no way you got to Colorado from Boston on your own."

You inhale a shaky breath, holding it in to distract you from his intimidation, "Charlie w-wasn't with me."

Joel shakes his head, looking down at the varnished floorboards under his boots, "so you're sayin' 's just a coincidence that she vanished into thin air the same night you did?"

"Yes," you lie as well as you possibly can, it's easier when he isn't staring at you. "I got to Colorado from Boston all on my own - in a car."

“A car?”

“Those metal things with four wheels—”

“Don’t do that - you know what I mean.”

“Fine. I found one with some gas on the freeway - it took me all the way there.”

Lie - lie - lie.

Silence takes over the room again as Joel processes all of the answers you had given him to questions that ran through his head more than he’d like to admit, they fill a crater on his brain that'd been left there since the morning he saw yours and Charlie's sleeping bags unzipped and empty - with no trail to follow, nothing... you'd gone, for good - or so he thought.

You're restlessly tapping your foot on the floor when Joel lifts his head again, anticipating the last question of his interrogation, one that you will have to answer with nothing but the truth, instead, he examines the room. All the furniture came with the house that Maria assigned to you, there were a few odd bits and pieces that you'd gotten from trades: books, cds, a boombox, a rug, flowers... it's not much, but it's yours.

"And the baby?" He'd been searching for any sign of him, photos on the walls of your son, drawings, toys... any indication that a teenage version of you was living here too. His search stops when he realises that there's nothing and he looks to you again, genuinely afraid of your answer, but his eyebrows raise, silently urging you to just say it - he'd avoided asking long enough already.

You knew it is was coming, but when the question actually leaves his lips you cannot stop the singular tear that falls from your eye. The liquid mixes with the blood pooling around your bottom row of teeth on the inside of your bottom lip from biting it so hard - the taste of your emotional and physical pain on your tongue at the same time.

"H-he - he didn’t make it."

'He', Joel mouths and bows his neck with a shaky sigh, taking a moment of silence for the baby boy that had kicked his large hand from under your skin, the baby boy he never got to meet, but had spent so much time with through your pregnancy. "H-he—" Joel's voice cracks, alerting your ears, you've never heard him do that. He places his hand over his heart, "how - when did he—"

You shake your head, warning him to just stop with the questions.

"I need to know - please." He looks so lost, his eyes round and glossy... You knew that pain all too well and you couldn't bring yourself to believe that he was really feeling it too.

"No - you don't," you state, your voice weak but as cold as ice, another tear rolling down your face. "What happened to my son has nothing to do with you."

"It sure as hell does!" He steps around the coffee table closer to you as he raises his voice, only for you to flinch and take a step back, desperately trying to keep the space between you before you melt into his arms like you always craved to before.

It did - it had everything to do with Joel.

After all, ‘Miller’ was your son’s last name, and you were constantly reminded of it whenever you visited his grave to replace his flowers.

"My life - my boy's life, it stopped having anything to do with you when you used us as bait for some fuckin' medicine and ammo," your harsh, but true words slip out of your lips and after, you could hear a pin drop it's so quiet.

Joel looks ashamed, guilty. His lips are downturned and the tiniest of tears falls from his own eyes... he no longer looks like the monster you imagined him to be in your nightmares, he is a pale imitation of himself. "I'm sorry,” he says gently, so unlike the venomous voice he used to threaten victims as a hunter, but he knows that this is an apology that could never make what he did right.

You take a slow breath, preparing to say what you'd let him into your home to say, "if - you - really mean it… leave. I never want to see you again."

You did it - you finally did it.

He's fighting himself, you can tell, his lips are doing that thing where they twitch as his nose scrunches up... It's not in his nature to do what he is told when he wants to do the opposite, but he also knows that the best and only option for him now is to leave... to do what Ellie wants him to do, to take her to the Fireflies and leave Jackson.

"You heard her," Rick announces from behind you again, he must’ve been alerted by the raising of voices and for a moment you wonder how much he’d heard.

Joel ignores Rick this time, nodding at you and sniffling back his tears before swiftly leaving the room, making sure to collide his shoulder with Rick's on the way out of your house.

The door slams, signalling Joel's exit.

Rick nods at you as a further confirmation.

You exhale out a long breath that you didn't even know you'd been holding in and collapse onto the couch beside you with your eyes closed, your hands landing on a rubbery texture that is definitely not your couch.

It’s Joel’s gloves.

Quadruple shit.

꥟ 𓃗 ꥟

You wish that you could say you felt any better this morning, but that'd be a lie.

You'd been telling a lot of lies recently and you didn't want to get in the habit of doing it... but they had been your only protection from facing your past - facing Joel.

Old Beardy snorts next to your ear while you scratch under his chin, reminding you that he is also your protector, he’d never let anything bad happen to you. You lean your forehead against his, it calms the ache at the back of your head, which isn’t as in pain as you thought it’d be, and it also calms your shot nerves, giving you a moment to properly catch up on the rest that you didn’t get last night.

Rick left soon after Joel did, he told you to ‘get some rest’ and that he’d sign you off of work for the day… You decided that you’d come to work anyway because you know that you’re better off in the stables with the horses than anywhere else, let alone your bed… you had nightmares in that bed every goddamn night for the last seven years so what would’ve made today any different?

The stable door behind you opens and slams shut, immediately alerting you because either it’s Rick coming in to update the board of patrol shifts for today, or it’s a patroller who has come in wayyy too early for their shift.

You peek one eye open and look to your right, realising that it’s neither Rick or an overly eager early bird.

It’s Joel.

He strides with purpose into the stable in the same clothes he was wearing yesterday, looking like he’d had about as much sleep as you did judging by the dark bags underneath his bloodshot eyes.

Old Beardy snorts again, urging you to keep showering him with the love that he gets from you all the time while your temple is rested above his nose as Joel fiddles around with the horse tack located at the corner of the stable next to the patrol board… clearly he’d not spotted you, too engrossed in whatever he’s doing here this early in the morning.

You and Old Beardy observe the man from afar as he picks up a bridle, saddle and an attachable bag, carrying them over to Callus’ stall - the stallion seems familiar with him, not fussing when Joel starts to pet, then dress him.

Is he doing what you think he’s doing?

Leaving - just as you told him to?

And on Callus?

“I’ll be right back, boy - I promise,” you whisper to Old Beardy, looking him in the eyes as you say it so he knows that you’re telling the truth before you intend to discreetly sneak out of the stable and report Joel’s attempted horse theft to Rick, wherever he is.

But Old Beardy, stubborn and talkative as he is, grumpily neighs so loudly that the sawdust from the old wood of the stable falls due to the vibration that the noise sends through each and every slat.

That’s your plan ruined.

Old Beardy has probably woken up the entire population of Jackson and you’re aware that your cover is well and truly blown… Joel is already staring at a frozen, crouched and wide-eyed you in the midst of placing the saddle he’d taken onto Callus’ back. 

This is awkward, given the last thing you’d said to him was ‘I never want to see you again’. You meant what you said, and definitely hadn’t considered the likely possibility of bumping into him this morning…

You stand up straight, resorting back to your normal posture stood in front of Old Beardy’s stall, giving the horse beside you a dead pan look that doesn’t last a second because you can never stay mad at any of your beloved four-legged friends.

“I see you haven’t got your barkin’ boyfriend on a leash this mornin’,” Joel grumbles, turning his attention back to attaching the saddle to the obedient Callus.

“I believe the ‘b’ word you’re lookin’ for is boss—” you grumble right back, bravely taking a few steps towards Callus’ stall so that you can see Joel’s entire rugged figure and block the gate, not letting him leave… not with Callus, “not that it’s any of your business.”

“Yeah you made that perfectly clear last night,” he grunts as he tugs at one of the saddle’s buckles, tightening it just enough.

You furrow your brows, planting your hands at each wooden post, ignoring the splinters threatening to impale your skin in your effort to trap Joel into the confined square, “what’re you doing?”

Your attempt at interrogating him catches Joel’s attention, he glances at you over his shoulder with his hands outstretched over the horse’s middle. His nose is red from the cold, or maybe from crying, and you try your best not to falter, not to show that you care because you don’t - you can’t. You expect his answer to be as shut off as your own had been, an ‘ain’t no business of yours what I’m doin’ or a ‘leave me the hell alone’, but he doesn’t say either, “ain’t it obvious?”

“I’m not letting you go with Callus.”

“Thought it was what you wanted - f’me to leave.”

“I’m not letting you steal Callus,” you fight the urge to roll your eyes while correcting yourself.

The determination fades from his features, like he’d expected you to change your mind about wanting him to leave. His eyes stay trained on you anyway, taking one last long look like he always did before he lost someone he cared about to a bite, to a gunshot wound… this almost seemed worst, you’re alive and he’d finally found you but you wanted nothing to do with him anymore - you’re slipping through his fingers again.

“I’m borrowin’ Callus,” he corrects you, resuming his movements, stuffing a few supplies that Maria or Tommy had probably given him because he cannot look at you any longer - treating you like you’re already a pile of ash on the ground.

Your grip on the poles to either side of you weakens until you completely let go, “w-what?”

“Your boss said I could take him with me.”

“Take him where?”

A small huff of a laugh leaves Joel’s lips, but you don’t see it because you’re face to face with the back of his head, “Eastern Colorado.”

Eastern Colorado?

Is this all some kind of sick joke to him?

He’s actually… leaving?

With Callus?

And Rick’s approval?

You don’t believe him.

Joel has been here not even for a day and he’s going to get you in trouble.

After all the bullshit that you’d put Rick through, this is the bullshit that is going to get you fired?

Your hands ball into fists, knuckles brushing against the gloves that he left on your couch. You’d snatched them on the way out of your house this morning, about to chuck them in the trash, but then you decided against it, figuring that they’d be worth trading in for something so you tucked them into the waistband of your jeans… you’d forgotten about them until now.

Now that you notice the material of them against your skin, it burns. You reach for them and roughly tug them away, expecting to see bubbling ulcers and blood on your hips, but there aren’t.

Relying entirely on your anger in this moment, not your racing heart, your fragmented breaths or your doubtful brain, you stride towards Joel. He turns quickly upon hearing your loud footsteps brushing through hay on concrete, his hands flying upward at the same time yours do, both your defence mechanisms responding to each other’s with a dramatic flinch of your bodies.

“H-here’s your - stupid gloves,” you grit your teeth as you shove them into his hands after you both realise that neither of you intended to scare the other out of their skin.

You try desperately not to make any contact with him as you do it, like Old Beardy avoided touching you at first, because you’re also terrified of what his touch will do to you. How it’d probably send you into another episode, another series of sleepless nights and nightmares… How it’d break you if you made skin to skin contact again, you’d fall for him all over again, you’re sure of it, but you have no choice against the matter because as soon as your hands are in reaching distance, he takes them into his, gripping onto you like his life depends on it.

A small hiss leaves your lips as the coldness of his skin on yours burns more than his gloves did, but you don’t run from it… and there’s no pool of blood or dead bodies to be seen.

It’s just Joel - the real Joel, not the bloodthirsty alter ego of him you’d conjured up inside your head that you once knew him to be capable of being back in Boston.

“I’ve got somethin’ that needs takin’ care of at the university there—” his thumbs brush over your fingers when he sees that you’re lost in the physical contact between you, he bows his head towards yours, luring your panicked eyes away from his closed hands around yours, “listen to me - I’m comin’ back… and if Tommy and Maria let me - I’m stayin’—”

You shake your head.

“I’m gonna try to make things right between us—”

You shake your head again.

“‘Nd if you still want me to leave I will - I promise you’ll never see me again.”

The stable door swings open before you can rip your hands away and scream at him, the words on the tip of your tongue...

‘It’s too late to make things right.’

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ⇝

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 (𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 ��𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞) 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆!!!!! 𝐈𝐭'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 <𝟑

𝐈’𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫😭😭

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ‘𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞’ 𝐨𝐫 ‘𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫’ 𝐭𝐚𝐠-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ↯

𝐿𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝐿𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑇𝑖𝑚𝑒

@eaterof-concrete @exzidss @pedrosgrogu @whirlwindrider29 @ccmoonshine @wheatmaze @hayleynott @peelieblue @senoratess @sunnypeachdream @puddles221b @kirsteng42 @piercethevic03 @bardot49 @maybe-a-bi-witch @xwackk @mellymbee @aurelialou @hjzghi-blog @dendulinka6 @hhjhgdaiqoqoan @holmesblogger @areyoutheretoru @dailyobsession @youusunshineyoutemptress @deansgirlsworld @merz-8 @orcasoul

𝐽𝑜𝑒𝑙 𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑟

𓃗

[atyourmerci]

♡ Hook, line, and sinker (sub!abby // follower req)

Basketball!abby X nerdy reader

Next chapter

♡ ♡

Summary: Abby is the head captain of your college basketball team, a known player in more ways than one…but you knew her dirty little secret

Warnings: smut, MDNI, porn smidge of plot, sub!abby, top!reader, cunnilingus, fingering if you squint, abby is sub inexperienced, abby is a whiny little sub, author enjoyed thoroughly, no y/n, no physical description of reader

A/N: first req!! So thank you for sending it in. Hopefully this will hold y’all off till I can get out a full fic :// (this was supposed to be a drabble and I got carried away oopsies). Psa wrote this at 2am so it’s probably a MESSSS

♡ ♡

She was dangerous force, intimidating just by the sheer sight of her. She was the kind of girl that people walked on the other side of the road when she was coming, afraid of what would happen if she snapped. Hell even the girls on the court would run from her, and not in the way the game was supposed to happen, they just knew she broke bones.

Abby was brutal, she was a hard hit, she was uneasy to break… she was a fucking whiny sub.

No one knew that of course, none of the girls she tossed around like dolls as she rammed into them emotionlessly, it would ruin the reputation she had built, right?

But you knew.

She was embarrassed you ever saw that side of her, but fuck did she need you. Only you could let her beg and plead to let her cum after denying her over and over again. Only you were allowed to see that pretty pink pussy drenched in slick that ran down her muscled thighs. Only you ever made her cum.

The situation she had you in was less than practical. Abby begrudgingly asked for your help in physics since you were undeniably the smartest in the class…oh if she would’ve know the things you’d teach her. 

You weren’t her type, she liked easy girls, the ones that threw themselves at her so she never had to even try, open up to anyone. Some girls had pressed for more, to which she’d move on to the next.

You…you were difficult, hard to read. She was surprised you didn’t use the chance of meeting with her to study to get a good fuck out of her. You were strictly business, even when you couldn’t stop thinking about what she would look like with her legs wrapped around your head.

♡ ♡

That day had started just like the others, abby sprawled out on your tiny dorm bed while you sat neatly across from her, textbooks giving needed separation between the two of you. She always felt the need to dominate every space she took up. If only you could just break her…

“I- I don’t fucking get this. I’m not going to.” Abby says dragging her large hand cross her face. She was usually frustrated when she came to you, but today was the worst you’ve ever seen. She’d leave in a much better place than you had started, but after 3 hours there had been an unusual lack of progress.

“You’re not using your head,” you say growing impatient. You let out a sigh of equal frustration, knowing you’d have to break down the first wall of unspoken territory with her, “what’s wrong with you, you seem off today.”

She returns a scoff back at you, head tilting up to meet your eyes, “I’m fine.”

You shake your head knowingly back at her, “Abby you-“ you begin to protest as she cuts you off defensively, “I said I’m fine. Now are you actually going to teach me? Or would you like to keep interrogating me?”

Your mouth opens in anger. She wants to play this game, let’s play. “Don’t come at me because you were too busy fucking the entire woman’s soccer team last night to be prepared for this midterm.”

“Why the fuck do you care what I do,” she barks back with just the same vengeance.

You laugh at her blatant assumption, “I didn’t say I did.”

“Then why are you breathing down my neck,” she says narrowing her eyes on you, in an almost curious gaze, still laced with anger.

“I just think you should worry about yourself more than making half of Yale’s female population come.”

She returns a breathy laugh, shaking her head turning away from you, “and you don’t think I get off?”

You cross your arms with a testing gaze on the profile of her face, she couldn’t even look at you talking about herself that way. “I know you don’t.”

“And how the hell would you know that.”

“You’re so fucking tense I’m sure you haven’t gotten off in years, can’t even let yourself do it.” You watch as she twists her fingers around themselves nervously, still unable to meet your eyes.

“Y- you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says unsure, barely above a whisper.

Any assumption you had made had been completely checked off now, and you were ready to completely destroy her. Before you could make out a rational thought your hands were at the textbooks in front of you, the separation between you and your weary opponent. You moved everything off onto the desk next to your bed, closing the once necessary gap.

“Come here,” you say as she finally meets your gaze again. “W-what?”

“You heard me, lie down completely,” you demand, and she reluctantly agrees, unsure of her fate.

You make your way to the side of her, brushing your bare knees against her side which causes her to flinch as her fists are closed tightly next to her.

You place a hand on her abdomen first, trying to ignore the chiseled muscle beneath her black tank, “have you been touched here?”

“Yes.”

You then move your hand to the bicep caged around the outline of your legs, she was sure not to make direct contact, “have you been touched here?”

“Yes.”

You move the same hand to her cheek, cupping the sharp line of her jaw, her eyes now drowning in yours, the anger that had held her down now disappearing. “Have you been touched here?”

“Sometimes. N- not often.” Her gaze falters, fluttered down out of your reach at the vulnerability.

Your hand drags down to her neck, this time you let it roam, dragging your fingers across her pulse, “and here?”

“No.”

You click your tongue at her, “shame,” bending down on your knees to scatter slow kisses up the throb in her neck. You feel as she squirms slightly beneath you, “such a sensitive area, really,” you say returning upright, dragging your fingers down to her raised nipple, hardened by your kisses.

“Here?” You lay light circles around the heightened bud as her mouth falls open, quickly closing it with her top teeth on her lip to make sure she doesn’t crack.

She shakes her head rapidly in response, eliciting a giggle from your throat as you move to her other nipple, sure to give it just as much attention.

You let your hand drag down to the seam of her sweats, toying with the exposed skin between her shirt and pants with your fingertips. You watch as her teeth let the grip of her lip go and her head fall back to the ceiling.

The tips of your fingers ease under the sweats over her boxers, inching your way in till your hand cups her mound to which she lets out her first groan of satisfaction “Have you been touched here, Abby?”

“Fuck- no. never.” Her chest rising and falling heavily now, unable to catch her breath.

“You want me to touch you there abby?”

“Please- please touch me there,” her fist that was caged around your bent legs now gripped into your thigh, large hand almost completely engulfing your leg.

“Well since you asked so nicely, take off your pants. Only your pants.” Within seconds she had them down to her ankles, ripping them off and discarding them to the floor. Her hand returned to your thigh, eyes now trained on you.

You moved your hand back to her mound, covered by her black boxers. You began rubbing down to feel how soaked she was, pooling already. You wouldn’t give her much, not yet, only rubbing slow and soft stripes up and down to hear her breathy moans from the stoic woman.

“Does that feel good?” You ask her doe-eyed as she stare’s pathetically up at you, so needy for anything you’d let her have. “Y- yes.”

“Take off your boxers.” With the same enthusiasm she rips them down at your command, returning her gaze back to the ceiling, still embarrassed at her vulnerability but unable to stop herself.

“Open up those legs for me pretty girl,” you say rubbing your palm up her thigh.

“You can’t talk to me like that… I- I’ll come” she breathes out, bucking her hips slightly into the air to no sense of relief.

“I haven’t even touched you yet,” you let out a small giggle at her admission, continuing to rub in her inner thigh.

“Y-ou don’t h-ave to- I’m close enough.”

“Awh pretty baby, all from some talking?”

She continues to buck her hips in hopes that your hand will meet her in the middle. “Please touch me before I finish.”

She had been so good, so pliable, so you honored her wish by placing your fingertips to her raised clit, soaked by her arousal. “Oh fuck!” She yelps, raising her hips into your touch, the hand on your thigh digging crescents into your soft flesh.

“So swollen, just for me?”

“Yes! Yes! Fuck- don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” she begins to plead. You know she won’t last much longer. And you had to taste her.

You whip your legs around her backwards to straddle her, getting a perfect view of her sopping wet cunt, pretty pink lips coated in white slick. You lick a fat stripe down her slit, tongue pointing into her leaking entrance to get a taste of her.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck” she begins to babble as you lap at her hole. She moves her wide hands to grasp at your covered ass in search of stabilizing herself.

You return to her swollen bud, immediately sucking it into your mouth, pulsing it systematically as you hold her wavering thighs open.

“I- im- FUCK-“ she begins to shake under you, whimpers flying out of her as she bucks into your mouth, riding out her early orgasm.

She continues to shake as you try to suck every last bit of her climax out of her, letting her revel in her pleasure. You wish you could talk her through it now, but you’re sure she’ll let you do it over and over again.

As cries of overstimulation flood her voice you let off her clit with a pop, eliciting one last whine from her throat. You return next to the half naked brute, right back to where it started.

She hops of the bed and lazily returns her clothing back to her body.

“No one hears of this. No one.” She says with a pointed look, deep into your eyes.

Ah, the reputation must be upheld. Whiny fucking sub.

Follower req by: @ghgygd

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow

[grimesbunny]

earn your spot

rick grimes

cw mean rick (?) face fcking. dirty talk / dumbification

summary: you get turned on by rick scolding you and make it up to him with mindblowing sloppy. i hate writing bjs #menshouldneverfeelpleasure but it’s rick. sooo like.

you always feared for the day you’d be on the receiving end of rick’s rage, much less his disappointment. but you should’ve realized you were setting yourself up by being on your best behavior since the group rescued you. gunning for the loyalest soldier category set expectations a smidge too high, made your mistake seem all the more dire. you can’t remember what exactly you did — veering off of rick’s plan slightly on your last run in with walkers because you assumed your role couldn’t be that important — but you jeopardized the safety of the group and that’s all that matters. it’s hard to recall all the tiny details when you have a man scolding you about the principle.

it’s not like you haven’t seen him angry before, quite the opposite— you’ve witnessed a height of his rage once and it’s stuck with you ever since. rick’s the type of person you don’t want to upset, and not just because you’re intimidated, but because he has a sense of honor about him that makes you admire him. makes you want to please him and be labeled good in his book.

you knew you were fucked after being shooed away by him like an insistent fly while on the run. exiled to wait in the car on “lookout.” the ride back to the prison is eerily silent, and your muscles ache with how tense they are by the time he finally unloads. he has the decency to pull you to the side, away from watchful eyes, but his voice carries.

it’s a chastising. there’s no other word for it. the tears that sting the corners of your eyes are to be expected— you could never handle being reprimanded very well— it’s the heat gathering in your core that comes as a shock. rick’s dirty and disheveled from the run, sweat sticking his curls to his forehead while his eyes bore into yours. seemingly looking past your pout and glistening stare.

“are you questioning my judgment, kid?”

you can’t tell what’s meant to be rhetorical or not at this point, but you shake your head anyway, a nervous laugh pushing from your wobbly lips. “of- of course not.”

“then help me understand.” he says, almost defeatedly. he’s got you caged in at this point, unconsciously backing you further into the grimey prison wall. “i laid out the instructions clear and simple for you, did i not?”

with you being new, and rick being pulled in three different directions every five seconds, it’s not often that you have his full attention like you do now. never for this long, especially. it’s pathetic, but you don’t know what to do with it. you shrink in on yourself, thighs clenching together while your face grows warmer and warmer.

“i thought you were smarter than this. if you can’t handle a run, i think we need to rethink your role here.”

“no!” you exclaim. flashbacks to being all alone out there for so long ring through your mind. “i can handle it, rick. i’m sorry, i fucked up, i wasn’t thinking.”

“i don’t think you fully grasp that when we’re out there— it’s life and death. there’s no room for you to turn your brain off.” he lightly taps the side of your head for emphasis, and you involuntarily lean into the contact. it makes his eyes go curious, brows caving in just slightly. “it’s us or them. i can’t have another threat— another liability out there. or you may as well join ‘em.”

his words pierce you in the stomach like a knife. the whirlwind of conflicting emotions is making your head spin, and you reach for his arm for stability without thinking. “rick… i understand. i promise you, i do. i won’t disobey you again.”

his gaze slowly drops and lands on the contact in what feels like several heavy seconds. you’re frozen in place, unsure of whether to let go or not. the muscle of his arm relaxes when he meets your eyes again.

“i’m… disappointed. i’m trying to do right by you, but i need you to show me that you want to be here.” the way his voice has dropped an octave is distracting, and you feel the words as much as you hear them. feel them as a tingle up your spine, a pulsing that blossoms in between your thighs.

if you allowed yourself, you might wonder if he was talking about the run anymore.

“i do.” you nod. feeling emboldened, you squeeze his arm, eyes widening up at him intently. “how can i prove it to you?”

his eyes darken, and a smug sense of pride swells in you at the way his mouth drops open but no words come out. his eyes do a quick sweep of the area the two of you are in. empty cell block. secluded. alone.

“what are you asking for?” he tilts his head, almost challenging. “do you even know yourself?”

a lapse of confidence suddenly makes you hesitate. before you go to apologize and maybe run out of the room, rick speaks again.

“yeah, you know good and well, don’t you?” he whispers it like a thought between the two of you. “christ, i’m tryin’ to talk some sense into you and you’re lookin’ at me like…” he trails off, eyes dipping down to your lips. and then he laughs, turns his face and shakes his head.

“like— like what?” you feign innocence. pulling as he’s pushing.

he takes a step closer you didn’t know was possible, and you can feel the ghost of his weight against yours.

he seems to consider his next words. “do you know how distracting it is to have to watch you blink at me like that whenever i speak, like i’m some kind’a god? watch you fein for my attention, knowing i’d be the bad guy if i gave it to you how i want to?”

you’re too stunned to speak. from where you stand, any sudden movements and he might back away, might talk himself out of whatever it is that the two of you are building up to.

“you like it, don’t you? teasing me until i snap. i bet…” he sucks in a breath, and you hold yours in anticipation. the hand of the arm you’re holding tentatively comes to rest on your hip. “if i were to reach my hand down you’d be soaked through these tiny shorts.”

you gulp down all the saliva that has collected in your throat. your heart is thumping so hard you feel like he can hear it as you take it upon yourself. guiding his hand where you want it the most, where you’ve dreamt of it several times. his fingers slide against your clothed lips, and sure enough, you can feel the dampness accumulating.

“fuck.” he breathes out. his resolve seemed to crumble, head dipping as his free hand goes to pin you against the wall. “get this wet whenever i talk to you? hm?”

you nod quickly. might as well not hold anything back, now that you’re finally in the position you’ve been craving since you laid eyes on him.

“cmon, what’s got you all quiet now, honey? i thought you could handle it?” his fingers have gone greedy, attempting to circle your clit through your clothing. the friction feels like heaven, and you can’t stop yourself from bucking into his hand. “i thought you wanted to prove it to me?”

“fuck, yeah. i want to.” all you can seem to do is nod, desperate with it. your eyes dart to the tent in his jeans. it looks so hefty, thick and bulging. you’ve never wanted to see anything more in your life. “i want to make it up to you, rick. earn… earn back my spot here. just tell me what to do.”

“yeah?” he dips his head lower to force eye contact with you again. you take your hand and gingerly glide your fingers along the outline of him pressed against his jeans, bottom lip catching between your teeth. he doesn’t move, keen on letting you feel for yourself. “well… i‘m not sure if you can take it.”

the faux sympathy in his voice almost makes you whimper. “i can, i promise. please.”

he reached down to undo his gun holster and it’s all you need to hear to drop to your knees, forcing back a wince at the impact from the cold floor. he leaves it to you to unzip his pants.

“look at me.” he orders, the authority in his tone gives you no choice but to oblige instantly. he’s larger than life above you, and somehow a much hotter view from below. it spurs you on, makes you more eager to free his cock from its confines.

you pull his pants down just enough to watch it spring out. nothing could’ve prepared you for it; long and thick and meaty, already leaking from the swollen, red tip. the sight makes you audibly whine, much to rick’s amusement.

“never seen a cock before, sweetheart?”

“never this big.” you admit, squirming to get some friction on your cunt. that draws a noise out of him, and you watch his cock twitch with it.

you grasp it hesitantly, looking up at him to check for his reaction. it’s been a long time since you’ve done any of this, and it’s not like you had much experience in the first place. you don’t want to disappoint him.

under the weight of his gaze, you reach out to place a kiss to his tip, letting his precum ooze onto your lips. his hips buck forward slightly into your mouth.

“christ, aren’t you pretty like this?” he sighs.

you feel yourself blush, kitten licking his tip to hide your smile as you gaze up at him. his eyes are lidded, his patience showing on his face. finally, you wrap your lips around his spongy head, suckling gently.

“alright, none of that. you don’t get to tease anymore.” he soothes your hair into a makeshift ponytail with his hand, using it as leverage to begin moving your head at the pace he wants. he stuffs your throat all too quickly, your gags and moans muffled by the girth of him filling your mouth. it’s too much and not enough at once, and for the second time today you feel yourself about to cry. “just fuckin’ take it.”

it’s messy and suffocating, but you can’t think of any place you’d rather be than on your knees for him, letting him use your mouth to get off.

“your throat — feels so perfect, baby. about time i put this pretty mouth to good use, huh?” he chuckles breathlessly. you grasp his strong thighs for purchase, willing him to slow down. “i should’ve known this is what it would take to get you to listen. you just needed your fill, didn’t you?”

you nod as best as you can, eyes wide up at him. merciful, he pulls you off to let you breathe, watching a line of spit follow your lips. his dick is covered in it, glistening and raw. you splutter, and somewhere down the line the tears you felt had started flowing freely down your cheeks.

“rick,” your voice cracks pitifully. “it hurts.”

“i know, but you can take it, remember? you’re a big girl.” he places a hand sweetly on your jaw, rubbing his tip against your spit-soaked lips. “gotta be good at something if you want to stay here.”

the throbbing of your knees is overpowered by the ache in your cunt. you can’t believe the predicament you’ve found yourself in.

“you don’t have to think anymore, sweetheart. not good at that today anyway, hm? just relax your jaw and let me in.” he coaxes, pushing past your lips. you do as he says, letting your jaw go lax and his lips stretch into a mean grin. “there you go.”

all it takes is a few more thrusts of his hips. the sight of you with tears streaming down your face, squirming all over your heel for friction on your clit. the feeling of your warm throat constricting around him. he pulls out abruptly, and you watch intently as he rapidly fists his cock.

“here it comes, baby.”

he’s aiming for your face, but you stick your tongue out, desperate to take catch some of his seed on your tongue. his orgasm is ripped out of him, shooting off thick ropes that never seem to end.

you swallow it happily, yet somehow your smile is still bashful afterward.

he’s panting, shaking his head. “what am i going to do with you?”

[arcadia-of-pluto]

In High Cotton || Rafayel (m)

Paring(s); LADS Rafayel x reader

Word count; 3,626

Themes; swearing, smut, plushie turning human (??), I write the word plushie a lot (I'm sorry), porn with a smidgen of plot, alternative universe

Warnings; Cunnilingus, fingering, slight choking, smidge of hair pulling, some degrading (if you squint), unprotected sex (wrap it up), some boob play, (do not expect a masterpiece of a smut— I didn't realize how rusty I was at writing them until I actually started 😞)

Notes; woah, 700ish notes on my most recent drabble! That's insane tbh. It almost feels like I should only write drabbles, and it wasn't even a smutty drabble either 🤔 I thought people were usually into smut?

Either way, I'm glad yall are liking it while I readjust myself to writing smut once again! I used to write smut SO much when I was younger and then I just stopped– but when I do write it again, it might have too much detail and I do apologize beforehand for that...speaking of, it's happening now btw! I'm going to try to write good smut for this. I got this idea for a short, one-shot hentai-ish Manga (it's called…”my plushie turned into a human” or something like that)

Also, lowkey, cotton doesn't even feel like a real word anymore 😭

|| Main Masterlist ||

In High Cotton;

//this Southern idiom means “to be doing well or living a comfortable life”; in comparison, to be ‘in low cotton’ would mean you're having a bad day//

“What are you, a child? Stop carrying around that stupid plushie! It feels like you care more about that damn thing than our relationship.”

Your head whips around to stare at your partner through a glare.

Oh really now?

You care more about a stuffed piece of fabric in comparison to your almost five years of dating this person?? Yeah, right.

Your partner was just trying to deflect this situation away from the fact that you caught them cheating.

They were grasping at straws to throw the blame on you and your cherished plush was the only thing they could throw at you…pitiful.

You've had this little plushie since you were little and, honestly, you didn't even remember what show it was from– if it was on one. Your childhood friend gave it to you shortly before he moved away and you've since forgotten what he even looked like.

The only memory of him being the purple haired, humanoid plushie currently clasped between your hands as you fought the urge to throw it at your partner.

And, tired of your silence, your partner left your apartment shortly after.

Now, you were left alone with your plushie.

You slowly swipe your thumb back and forth over its pinkish-blue eyes as you ponder just why you cherished it so much. Why you cherished Raf so much.

Yeah, Raf. That's apparently the name of the plushie. That's what your mom claims you called it throughout the years, so you had no reason to change it.

But yeah. You were unsure why it never left your side.

You always kept it in your purse, in your shirt pocket– it almost felt like an emotional support doll, at this point.

Anyway, you stand up from the floor and go lock your door so your partner couldn't barge back inside the apartment, even if they wanted to. Then, you decide to go to bed. You were off work for the next few days, so you could finally get some well deserved rest.

You quickly get changed into your pajamas and curl up in the bed with Raf in your arms. Your hand resting against the red beret on its head, thumb gently brushing over the small black bead on top of the hat as you drift off to sleep.

You wake up feeling…warm? Too warm, in fact.

You know you fell asleep with the air conditioner on, so there's absolutely no reason for the room to feel as warm as it does.

You grumble under your breath, wanting to go back to sleep as quickly as possible, and keep your eyes shut as you try to kick out from under the covers. You soon realize you can't do this, because you feel an odd weight holding you down.

If your partner snuck back in, you swear to god—

But when you open your eyes, you're met with an unfamiliar sight.

It's…a stranger. In bed with you.

Their hair, however, was oddly familiar.

Purple hair…

Nah, no way. There's no way your plushie suddenly turned into a human, but that would definitely make you feel less anxious than assuming a stranger was in your home.

You take a deep breath and glance around for your plushie. If you can find it, then this man isn't your favourite stuffed animal and if you can't– well, it could've fallen into the floor. You won't sink into the delusion that this man was Raf, until that was your final option.

You couldn't find it with just your eyes, so you attempted to wiggle out of the man's grasp. However, this only causes him to hold you tighter, his arms squeezing around your waist as he pulls you further into his bare chest.

…bare chest?

You blink a few times. Your head is close enough to touch the man's chin.

Fuck it.

You put your hands on his chest and desperately try to pull away from him, full on struggling since you've decided to not care if you wake him up or not. He came into your house, why should you be accommodating toward him??

��Hmm?”

You hear his tired voice as he finally removes one arm from your waist to rub his eyes, and the moment he opens then, you have no choice but to accept that he was your plushie.

Seriously, like what normal human has pinkish-blue eyes?? No one. Unless he's wearing contacts, that is literally your comfort doll.

You know it sounds crazy, but how else would this random guy know what your plush looks like?? Especially enough to copy its looks perfectly.

“Oh. Good morning, Y/n.” He yawns, stretching his arms up and that's when you snap.

You quickly sit up and move away from him, holding a hand out in front of you. “What're you doing in my house? You're not…Raf, are you?”

“You recognize me!?” He almost blinds you with his innocently charming smile.

“You're…joking, right? I mean, seriously, how am I supposed to believe that?” You say, half asleep but clearly not buying this act. You run a hand through your hair, brows furrowed and you could feel a headache coming on.

“Oh…you don't believe me..” he frowns, sitting up against the pillows. “Hmm…what can I do to make you believe me?”

“Uh…say something that only someone who knows me would know?” You throw your hands up in the air, exasperatedly.

Come on, how the heck were you supposed to know?? Though, you'd probably believe him if he said something personal.

“Raf” brings his hand up to rest under his chin as he contemplates what to say. After a few moments of silence, you stand up from the bed.

“Alright, if you're not going to say anything, then–”

“When you were seven, you threw up and ran into your mom's room crying because you thought you were dying…uh, oh also, when you were ten, you were trying to ride a bike and busted your knee open when you fell– you have a scar from it. At eleven, you accidentally punched a kid in the face and got into your first fight– that you lost, by the way. And at sixteen, you were going to lose your virginity, but your ex said you had to get Raf off the bed and you said, and I quote, ‘the doll stays’.”

“Raf” looks at you after he finishes talking with an almost proud looking smile on his face and you tilt your head to the side.

You…

…what?

You had no other choice, but to believe him now.

The scar on your knee would've been the easiest to guess, but the others? But you don't want to seem too gullible…

You clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Tell me more before I make my decision.”

Surely he wouldn't say anything embarrassing, right?

“You've faked every orgasm with your current partner. You can only cum if—”

“Okay, okay!” You quickly place your hand over his mouth. Your face turns scarlet as you squeeze your eyes shut. “That's enough. I'll believe you for now.”

You feel something wet against your palm and jerk your hand back. “What the hell– did you just lick my hand??” You drag your hand against your pants to wipe it off, before shaking your head. “Look, go get dressed. I'm sure my ex has some clothes you can wear.”

You put an emphasis on ex, since you decided you weren't going to stay with that cheater the moment they left your apartment last night.

Then, you leave the room.

Honestly….Raf was a pretty decent roommate. Sure, he didn’t work, but you'd come back to a home-cooked meal after work every day. He'd do the laundry, the dishes, and he even painted on the side.

You weren't sure if he'd ever turn back into a plush, but you preferred him this way. With him as a human, you could talk about your day with someone, eat with someone…there's only one problem.

Personal space and…personal time.

You haven't been able to get off in almost a month– that's how long Raf has been human by now– and it has started to get to you. You usually aren't a very sexual person, but sometimes you just need to rub one out every now and again…and you can't with him constantly snuggled in the bed next to you.

Tonight was another night where you wouldn't be able to do what you wanted.

You let out a small sigh as you get settled in bed. The TV played a random show in the background as it illuminated the otherwise dark room. Raf laid next to you, one arm curled under the pillow so he could still watch the TV. He was shirtless too, so that made your conundrum even better.

“What's wrong?” He asks, not looking away from the TV and you quickly shake your head.

“It's nothing. Nothing at all.”

Raf shifts over to his side to look at your face, raising one of his eyebrows ever so slightly. “You haven't…Well, I mean, you usually do it once a week and it's been a month now–”

“Raf–” you sigh, covering his head with a pillow. “Shut up.”

He pulls the pillow down, so only his eyes are visible. “Do you still not see me as a man?”

“I don't want to talk about this right now.” You try to pull the pillow back over his face and he catches you by the wrist.

“I could make you feel way better than your ex did…” he trails off as he guides your hand to the front of his pajama pants.

You could visibly see a bump from over the covers and you choke on your spit as you felt something warm under your palm.

Something big.

“Raf…” you trail off, but you can't find the will to tell him to let it go.

His words made you curious…you wanted to know if sex could actually feel good or if he was just talking a big game.

What could he really know about sex, anyways?

He's only been human for a month now, so there's no way he could actually be good at it, right?

As you're lost in thoughts, your hand subconsciously squeezes his election and Raf tilts his head back, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to hold back a groan.

“Earth to Y/n.” He hums, snapping his fingers in front of your face. “Yes or no, cutie? I want explicit consent.”

You were battling with your thoughts, but you ultimately nodded your head.

“Use your words now. Your pretty lips aren't just there for show, are they?” The man taps his finger against your bottom lip and you let out an impatient sigh, “Yes, now can you please–”

Your words were silenced by Raf's lips crashing down against yours.

One of his hands ghosts down your body, fingers resting under the waistband of your pajama shorts, just a few inches from where you really wanted his touch. His other hand slides up your shirt, cupping a breast.

You feel the bed dip underneath you as Raf swings a leg over your body, fully pinning you to the bed as he continues his assault against your lips.

His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, but you playfully refuse to let him in. In retaliation, Raf’s fingers pinch around your nipple and harshly tug at it. A gasp escapes you and he takes this opportunity to slip his tongue past your open lips.

The only time your lips part is when Raf leans back to tug his shirt off and takes off yours as well.

Now shirtless in front of the man, you can't help but feel a little self conscious.

Though Raf quickly dissuades your self doubt by dipping his head down to latch onto your nipple. His hand finally moved further into your pants. His index finger resting on your clit and you arch your hips up, trying to force him to move.

Your thigh stings in pain as you feel Raf's palm collide with your skin.

“Patience.” He murmurs against your chest.

His fingers draw lazy circles against your clit and, while it is pleasurable, you want more.

You dip your hand past his waistband and grab onto his dick. Your hand could barely wrap fully around it and you could only imagine how it would feel. It felt like it would hurt…a little. But what's a little pain?

Your hand lazily strokes Raf's dick, thumb dragging over his tip to collect a few drops of precum and that's when the man finally snaps.

His fingers move lower. His middle finger slowly glides inside of you and he gives you a few thrusts with his singular finger, before adding a second one. With both fingers sheathed inside, he makes a ‘come-hither’ motion with every thrust of his digits.

“R-Raf– wa—ah— wait..” Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulder while your other hand pauses its movements. You try to hide your face in your shoulder, but Raf seizes your chin with a hand.

“Don't look away now, princess. I wanna see your face. Wanna see just how good I'm making you feel.” He tsks and pulls away for a moment.

He strips you of your bottoms, tossing them to the side as his big hands grip your thighs. His palm slaps the newly exposed skin before he taps your hands.

“Hold your legs up for me and don't drop them.”

You want to question his words, but don't. Instead, you wrap your arms under your knees and pull them as close to your chest as you can. It was, honestly, a really embarrassing position, but you couldn't help but get even more wet.

Your juices were tacky against your thighs and even dripping down onto the sheets below you.

“Raf…” you whine, wondering what's taking him so long since you expected him to fuck you already. But instead of his cock, you feel something else.

You feel something warm and wet against your clit, and a strangled noise comes up from your throat as Raf flicks his tongue against your pussy. His fingers going back to your entrance to slip inside as he wraps his lips around your clit.

Your head tilts back as moans spill from your lips. Raf's skilled fingers working at your center while he tongue draws figure-eights on your clit.

“R-Raf, inside. ‘Wanna cum with you inside, please?” You finally manage to say, your nails digging into your legs.

Your heart stutters in your chest as Raf makes eye contact as he eats you out. Only pausing to respond to you, his fingers still moving.

“You gotta be more specific, princess. I am inside you right now.” He teases.

As you open your mouth to answer, he curls his fingers and they just barely brush your g-spot.

“I want your di– ah, Raf, right there!” Your hips jerk with every thrust of his fingers and you can feel yourself growing closer to your first orgasm, but Raf has other plans.

As you squeeze your eyes shut, preparing for your climax, suddenly you feel empty.

When you open your eyes, you notice that Raf is licking his fingers clean.

A lazy smirk tugs at the man's lips and his hand disappears into his pants, freeing his dick from its confines.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his angry, red tip. The glistening precum. The way his hand drug against the length of it.

“Hey, my eyes are up here!”” Raf snaps his fingers with a pout. “Geez, you really know how to make a man feel like a pack of meat.” He taps the tip of his dick against your clit and your hips jump.

“Ah, what's the magic word, cutie?” His hand pushes down on your hips, effectively pinning them to the bed as he smears his precum across your clit.

“I…” You grit your teeth, squeezing your thighs before you finally let them go and hold your arms out. “Please fuck me.”

Raf's arms wrap around you as he finally pushes his tip inside and his voice of reason finally snaps. He was originally going to take it slow, to give you time to adjust, but the feeling of your tight, warm walls around his cock makes him unable to think straight.

Your legs wrap around his waist as he thrusts into you with reckless abandon. Though there is a bit of skill to his thrusts, there's also a smidgen of inexperience mixed within it.

“You're so tight, cutie. Do you like my cock that much?” He hums, his lips dragging against the skin of your neck. He firmly presses his lips down, parting them slightly to suck a painful bruise on your neck.

His hips continue to snap forward. His cock languidly pumps in and out of your pussy. The obscene noise of skin slapping against skin, the sound of your bodies coming together, fills the otherwise silent room.

His thumb dips down to make quick circles against your lip as his cock brushes against your g-spot and he claims your lips once more.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, dragging up his skin to leave deep red marks in their wake. Your moans are swallowed by Raf's lips. His tongue collides with yours and you briefly fight for dominance. You ultimately lose, though you didn't put up much of a fight.

The man pulls out and you're about to complain, but suddenly you're flipped onto your knees. Raf presses his palm into the small of your back and your face slams into your pillows.

His cock re-enters as he thrusts, his palm cracks down across your ass. You can't hide the moan that slips from your parted lips and Raf raises a brow.

“Oohh, someone's a bit of a pain slut?”

With this new knowledge, Raf pulls you up by your hair. Your back against his chest and his other hand glides over your body. His two fingers make quick circular motions against your clit and he releases your hair, instead wrapping his hand around your throat.

“R–Raf, please. ‘M so close.” Another noise slips from your lips as his cock just barely kisses your g-spot and you can feel his breath against your ear. “You gonna cum for me?” He presses a small kiss on your shoulder, his hand squeezing around your neck as he quickens his thrusts.

“Uh-huh…” you nod your head, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you try to hold back your moans. You could feel your juices soaking your thighs, could hear the evidence of your arousal with every thrust.

With one last precise thrust that brushes your g-spot, you cum.

You tilt your head back with a choked cry, your hips jerking as your walls spasm around his cock.

“Princess…” Raf groans, his hands tightly gripping your hips as he surges forward. Your body falls forward and your hands go out to steady yourself as he continues to harshly thrust. “Inside or out?”

You take a moment to think before you turn your head to the side, meeting his eyes. “Out, please.”

Raf flips you over onto your back once more and after a few more pumps, he pulls out. His hand quickly strokes his cock before his head tilts back and he moans. His tip shoots out strings of cum, painting your stomach and chest with white ropes.

“Fuck…” he takes a few breathes before you meet each other's eyes.

Then, you both laugh giddily and he dips his head down to gently kiss you.

“I'll go grab a washcloth to clean you up.” He smiles against your lips before he gets off the bed to head into the bathroom.

You sit up and stretch out your sore limbs while you look around for your phone to check the time. “Huh…I could've sworn it was on the bed..” You click your tongue and sigh, sliding off the bed to check if it fell into the floor.

Your hand pats around under your bed and you let out a small squeak of surprise as your hand brushes against something soft. You jerk your hand back, but notice your phone was on the floor. You press a hand against your chest to try and still your fast beating heart. Then, you turn on your phone's flashlight to look under your bed.

“Wait…” you squint, noticing something that looks oddly familiar and once you fish it out, your eyes widen.

It…was Raf.

Slightly dusty since it had been under your bed for a few months, but…this was most certainly Raf, your beloved plushie.

Your head slowly turns in the direction of your bathroom with wide eyes. If your plush Raf was in your hands then…who was in your bathroom?

The door swings open and Raf– no, the stranger walks out from your bathroom with a washcloth in hand.

“I think I'm going to need to do the laundry soon. This is the last clean on– oh, you found it.” The purple-haired man leans against the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I– who…” you look from your cherished plushie to him. “You're not even…”

Then, he chuckles.

“You ever noticed the little black ball on his beret?” He taps a finger against his temple. “I gave you that when we were little…been watching you ever since.” He has a smile on his lips as if this was a normal thing to admit.

“You're—”

“Highly intelligent? Devilishly handsome?”

“—insane.”

“No, silly girl. My name is Rafayel. Don't worry, I'll fuck you a few more times so you can remember it.”

I tried my best and that's all that matters tbh 😭 I think it seems so bad because it's in second person and I'm used to writing smut in first. But I'm hoping I'll get better at it with practice!

Either way, I'm sure this isn't the worst smut you've read so I hope you enjoyed it!

Also, sorry there isn't a drabble this week! I might write one soon since I've got two days off 🤔 I'm not sure yet tbh

[bexalert]

Stardust crusaders having a crush on you

(Jotaro Kujo, Noriaki Kakyoin, Jean Pierre Polnareff, Mohammed Avdol)

Stardust Crusader stuff because I just finished part V and I miss them 😔

Also, I started this a WHILE ago, and it’s just been sitting in my drafts, so here you go.

I’ll also probably be making something for part V soon because I love them all. My accounts about to just become Jojo I’m so sorry 😭

Jotaro Kujo:

• He’s such a sweetie (he will literally ignore you)

• He doesn’t know how to just care about people??? So he won’t say anything

• But he will be very protective of you

• Atleast he’s not insulting you 😭

• He’ll just be watching you at all times, making sure you’re ok.

• He gets flustered, and then gets more flustered since he’s flustered

• Not that most people would notice

• He just starts sweating a bit and looks away.

• but you know who’s NOT shy???

• Star Platinum will not hesitate to play with your hair, stand by you, stare at you

• Obviously Jotaro will try to control him, but sometimes it just subconsciously happens

• He gets frustrated because people (POLNAREFF COUGH COUGH) will tease him

• But he bluffs well enough so you can’t tell

• When he does ask you on a date (if he does)

• It’s short, and almost a demand 😭

• “Go out with me.”

• He moves his hat so that you can’t see his face

• But he’s lowkey shaking

• Bro could defeat dio, multiple other stand users, and stop time without breaking a sweat, but when it comes to you?

• He’s just very out of his element, give my boy a chance

Noriaki Kakyoin:

• He’s just naturally so charming

• Especially if you’re around Jotaro and you’re a woman 😭

• He’ll comfort you if Jotaro makes any rude remarks

• “Pay him no mind.”

• He acts like you don’t affect him as much as you do

• But not to the point of being rude to you.

• He tries to impress you, but might not even realize he’s doing it

• Like he’ll do something cool and then immediately look to you to see if you saw him

• Might act just a smidge more charming

• Oh you need to walk through this door? He’ll open it for you. You’re having a seat? Here, let him pull your chair out for you. There’s a puddle? Oh, don’t get your shoes wet! He can carry you across- for your safety of course!

• He’s very polite, and respects you so much

• Always want to hear your input

• What do YOU think is the best route? Which hotel do YOU like?

• “What do you think, Y/N?”

• Just cares about you very much.

• He’ll be confident but humble when he asks you out

• “Y/N, I like you. Would you go on a date with me?”

• He’s shaking in his boots

• He just always has this content smile when he’s with you.

Jean Pierre Polnareff:

• Oh brother we got ourselves a yapper 😭

• Everyone knows he likes you

• It is absolutely not a secret

• You just assume he’s joking, or think he doesn’t really mean it

• But he is DEAD serious

• Shameless simp- he doesn’t care who makes fun of him

• “Ah, Y/N, do you need help with that? I’ll help!”

• You didn’t need help, he just can’t stand to see you working

• “Mon amour, someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t have to do work like this. Hohoho! leave it to me!”

• He’s incredibly corny and will say the cringiest things at any time.

• “Ah! You’re eyes are as beautiful and shiny are Silver Chariots armor!”

• and you’re just like thanks???? I guess???

• He will ask you out constantly. Just got done fighting? He’ll ask you out to cuddle in his sleeping mat (and also proclaim his undying love) you’re hungry? Please! Let him take you out to eat (and proclaim his undying love) you said you’re tired? He’ll ask you if he can carry you (and of course proclaim his undying love)

• When you finally take it seriously enough to give him a chance, he is over the moon

• He’s telling everyone

• “they said yes! We’re dating!”

• He’s so head over heels and just adores you

Mohammad Avdol:

• Dude he is SWEATING

• Like you won’t notice because he’s very calm and collected, but he’s freaking out

• It also doesn’t help that Magicians Red always comes out when you’re around, and he just keeps getting hotter.

• Like if you’re having a long conversation with Avdol, it will just progressively get more hot

• He tries desperately to keep Magicians Red under wraps, and for the most part he does

• But he gets so embarrassed when he cant

• He’s super respectful, like feels bad for even liking you

• He thinks he’s being gross for thinking of you like that especially if he doesn’t think you like him 😭

• He feels embarrassed outright asking to just have a conversation with you, so he always tries to cover it up with something else

• “Y/N, do you mind helping me read this?”

• HE COULD READ IT!!! He just wanted an excuse to talk to you ☹️

• Since he’s also the groups stand teacher, he’ll use his knowledge to his advantage

• Like you’ll made some off comment about “hmm wonder why that happened.” And he’s going into nerd mode

• 🤓☝️ “Actually when a stand user…”

• Like it was not necessary for him to go off like that, but the way you listen so intently makes his heart flutter.

• if you take his advice into account or say something reminded you of him, he is DEAD

• You actually thought about him, even just for one second, and that is wild to him

• He is also a simp, but no one would notice. Pouring your tea for you, helping set up your mat, bandaging your wounds, etc.

• You just think he’s being a good friend

• When he finally asks you out, he’s so flustered, but tries to keep calm.

• “Y/N, when this is all over I would like to take you on a date. Is that ok?”

• He’s just the sweetest nicest big ol’ teddy bear.

[floralcyanide]

𝟑𝟎,𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐭 - 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐧𝐞𝐫

jackson rippner x f!reader

Usually, airports were the bane of your existence due to your career and the constant requirement to travel. But when you stumble upon a handsome man at the airport bar, your disdain for flying seems to change.

warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, public sex, mile-high shenanigans

word count: 2780

author’s note: not proofread again lulz but when do I ever?? anyway I got a request for this and had to write it right away because I love jackson sm omg. please lmk if you enjoyed and send some feedback <3

main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇ��ʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

You wouldn’t mind it if you didn’t have to step foot inside another airport for the rest of your life.

Unfortunately, your career requires you to travel every month, so your escape from airports will have to wait. You doubt there’s anything that will make your experiences with the liminal spaces any brighter or more profound- you doubt there’s anything that would make them even a smidge exciting. But, who knows, maybe one day you’ll eat your words. So, until then, you’ll fast-walk through airports and terminals with your carry-on with the deepest resting bitch face you can conjure up. And it appears that today will be yet another day that you muster up one.

Deciding to hit the best bar in the DFW airport during your routine TSA spiel, you weave around the other flyers in the corridors in a hurry. Even if your red eye flight has been delayed about two hours, you figure two hours in an airport could be better spent drinking. After scouring the entire airport numerous times on each trip you’ve taken from DFW, you finally settled upon a corner bar near your gate. After passing by it a few times, you decided to give it a chance. Its appearance is initially off-putting- it is dark and moody. Still, it had an oddly comfortable atmosphere and good drinks, obviously. You stroll up to the bar, smiling and nodding to the bartender you’ve come to know here. Going to sit in your usual booth, you discover there’s someone already seated there.

“If this were middle school, I’d tell you this is my spot,” you joke as you approach the man, whose face is covered by his long bangs.

A pair of sharp blue eyes glance up at you from their place on the cocktail menu in his large hands, and a sweet smile graces his lips when he looks you over, “I certainly apologize for stealing your spot. Care to join me? I can buy you a drink to make up for it.”

You give him a questioning look, half-joking with your tone, “What’s in it for me?”

“A free drink and your spot back,” the man says haughtily, a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“Deal,” you reach a hand out for him to shake.

“Deal,” the man says, accepting your hand and shaking it firmly.

You slide into the booth, sizing the man up, “What’s your name?”

“Jackson,” the man says, his eyes nearly piercings into yours, “Jackson Rippner.”

“Oh,” you raise your eyebrows, suppressing a giggle, “your parents must hate you.”

Jackson laughs, shrugging, “Yeah, you could say that. But you can’t hate anyone if you’re dead.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry-”

“No need. Finished them off myself,” Jackson says, deadpanning.

You pause before laughing at his joke, “Gotcha.”

“So, what’s your drink of choice?” Jackson asks, changing the subject lightly.

“Hmm, I don’t think I’ll tell you just yet,” you let your eyes roam everywhere but Jackson’s face until you land your gaze back on him.

“You want me to guess, then?” Jackson asks, “I’m good at that, actually.”

“Oh, really? Prove it, then,” you say with a playful edge to your tone.

Jackson puckers his lips, furrowing his eyebrows in thought, “I’m thinking white liquor,” he trails off, “Maybe vodka, something fruity but not too skimpy.”

“You’re close, but not quite,” you bite your lip.

“I think you’re the type to have a classic no one considers.”

“Which is?”

“Dirty Shirley,” Jackson snaps his fingers, pointing at you confidently.

“Nope,” you say, grinning, “Just a vodka and Sprite for me.”

“Ah, but I was close.”

“Yes, you were very close,” you say, having the urge to flirt with this man you don’t even know.

“I’ll go grab that for you,” Jackson says, getting up out of the booth and heading to the bar.

While he’s gone, you rummage through your bag for a perfume roller, quickly rubbing some on your pulse points. Then, you unbutton the first two buttons of your blouse, revealing your cleavage just enough to be subtle. Turning around for a second, you see Jackson heading back to the booth, and you brush yourself off before slipping the perfume back into your bag.

“A vodka and Sprite for the pretty lady,” Jackson places your drink down in front of you before returning to his spot across from you.

“‘Pretty lady,’ huh?” you raise an eyebrow, taking the two black straws into your mouth.

“What can I say?” Jackson raises his hands in defense, “You are a pretty little thing. I’m glad I sat in your spot.”

“Oh,” you say, trying not to let your face heat up at the compliment, “Well, I’m glad too.”

The both of you silently sip your drinks after that, sharing fleeting glances while giggling. You decide to be cheeky, slipping off one of your heels and running your foot underneath Jackson’s pant leg. You nonchalantly look around the bar, chewing on your straw as if you weren’t up to anything. Jackson is staring right at you with a smirk as his eyes stare holes into your off-cast ones. 

“Feeling a little naughty, are we?” Jackson whispers, just loud enough to hear over the music.

You move your eyes toward him, “How do you mean?”

“I see,” Jackson looks down at the remainder of his second drink, “You wanna play like that, huh?”

“Play like what?” you challenge him, pushing your foot farther up his leg, now going over his pants and toward his thigh.

Jackson chuckles, about to say something, but he’s interrupted by the airport intercom. Your flight is a few minutes from boarding.

“Oh, that’s me,” you frown, downing the rest of your second vodka and Sprite before looking at Jackson, “What do I owe you?”

“For the drinks? Nothing,” Jackson licks his lips, “But for the teasing? We’ll have to see about that.”

“Oh really?” you ask, your heart rate now picking up at the obvious flirting.

“Really.”

“And what will you do about it?” you daringly ask.

“Well, we are on the same flight,” Jackson says, “So we’ll have to see.”

The two of you head over to the gate, getting in line to board. You boredly flip through a book your friend suggested for you to read on the flight. Jackson takes notice of this.

“Bookworm? Didn’t pick that up about you,” Jackson asks, rolling back and forth on his heels and toes. 

“Depends on the book,” you say, pursing your lips as you skim over the words, “Don’t think I’m a fan of this one, though.”

“That’s a shame. Any ideas of what you’re gonna do on the flight?” Jackson inquires, a flirty undertone in his question.

“Hmm,” you wonder, “Probably sleep. Unless I find something else to do.”

“Ah,” Jackson nods, “Hopefully, you will.”

“Hopefully,” you chuckle.

You and Jackson get separated during boarding, but you do a double-take when you arrive at your seat.

“Are you in the right seat?” you ask.

A familiar pair of striking eyes look up from a book to meet yours, “Did I steal your spot again?”

“No,” you shake your head, laughing, “I’m seat fifteen B.”

“And I’m fourteen B,” Jackson closes his book.

“Interesting,” you say, “Small world, huh?”

“Small indeed,” Jackson exhales, about to say something, until a lady a few rows down asks for help with her carry-on.

You move to the side, allowing Jackson to scoot by you. As he does, he puts a gentle hand on your waist, sending goosebumps up your spine. You watch as he helps the lady, and you try not to laugh when she tries flirting with him. Jackson returns to the row, moving past you again and plopping into his seat. 

“I know we talked for what, two hours? But I never asked, why are you headed to Miami? Work or play?” Jackson asks, buckling his seatbelt as the flight attendants announce preparation for take-off.

“Work, unfortunately. I take this trip often, red eye and everything,” you say, resting your head on the headrest behind you.

Jackson nods, “I’m here for work too. I hate flying, not going to lie.”

“Me too,” you grumble, “I hate everything about flying, including the airport and everything that comes with it.”

“Everything?” Jackson presses jokingly.

“Well, today was different. I actually had a nice time at the airport, especially since I got to meet you,” you say, keeping your eyes on the flight attendant as she goes over the safety precautions and flotation devices under the seats. 

“Good to know,” Jackson says, placing a hand on your knee.

You look at his hand, feeling very warm all over. The plane begins to speed up and ascend, and you relax in your seat, Jackson’s hand still on your knee. His nose is in his book as you try your best to read your friend’s book suggestion. When the plane finally reaches 30,000 feet, the seatbelt light turns off, and the lights dim. Flight attendants offer pillows and blankets, and you take a blanket, tucking your book away and covering yourself with the blanket. You’re on the verge of sleep when you feel Jackson’s hand slide up your thigh. You pretend you’re asleep, not moving or reacting to his touch. His hand is hidden by the blanket, so no one can see his hand move further up, dangerously close to your core. You’re wearing a dress, so there’s easy access. Not that you were complaining that Jackson was touching you. You were feeling him up earlier at the bar, so now it’s his turn. 

Jackson sneaks his hand back down your thigh and over your dress, slowly making his way over your hip and waist, up to your clothed breast. The blanket‘s hem was tucked behind your shoulders, covering up your entire body, so no one could see Jackson’s hand crawl underneath your dress again. This time, to squeeze at your breast. You try not to move or make a noise as Jackson takes your nipple between his fingers, pinching it lightly. Pretending as if he woke you up, you rouse and sit up straight.

“What are you doing?” you ask, acting as if you were asleep.

“I know you’ve been awake the whole time, sweetheart,” Jackson whispers.

“No, I wasn’t,” you say innocently.

“Don’t lie to me,” Jackson chastises, twisting your nipple harshly.

You bite your lip, muffling a moan. You squeeze your legs together as he continues to tweak the bud. 

“Is this what you want? Hmm? Teasing me earlier with your foot, I figured I’d play with you too.”

Jackson’s hand moves to your other breast, flicking your nipple. His other hand travels under your dress, his fingernails pressing into your skin. You bite your lip to stifle a moan from the sharp sensation on the sensitive skin of your thigh. His fingers ease to your core again, ghosting over your clit as you open your legs.

“Be quiet like a good girl,” Jackson says, eyes darting around to ensure no one is looking despite the lights being off.

You nod as he presses two fingers to your clit, rubbing slow, soft circles. Warmth gradually spreads in your lower belly at the sensation, and you widen your legs further. Jackson pulls his fingers away momentarily to slip them inside your underwear and continue his movements on your bare bundle of nerves. You cover your mouth, exhaling shakily at the stimulation. Jackson slips a finger inside you after playing with you for a while.

“Already so wet?” Jackson teases in your ear, his lips brushing against it.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath.

Jackson slowly pumps his finger in and out, eventually adding a second one. You shutter from the delightful stretch. You look around before subtly jerking your hips forward, riding his fingers.

“Fucking yourself on my fingers so good,” Jackson nibbles at your ear lobe, “Can’t imagine how you’d feel around my cock.”

You bite your knuckle to hold in a desperate whine at his words, “Please,” you whimper.

“Please, what?” Jackson asks, his fingers picking up the pace.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, “Take me to the bathroom and fuck me against the wall.”

“What a brazen little one you are,” Jackson grins, pulling his fingers from you and sucking your arousal off them, “It’s gonna take a little more than that, though.”

You groan at the loss of fullness, “Like what?”

“Beg.”

You pull Jackson’s hand back to your soaking slit, “Please touch me, fuck me, do anything you want to me. Please.”

“Keep going,” he pants, circling your clit with his fingers again.

“Jackson,” you sigh, “God, I need you inside of me. So bad,” you hiss.

“Go,” Jackson whispers, “I’ll meet you there.”

You hurry to pull down your dress, pulling the blanket off you before quietly walking to the bathroom. You check the vacancy before pulling the door open, leaving it unlocked for Jackson. You sit on the toilet, waiting patiently as your pulse thumps in your ears. A few moments pass, and the door opens slightly, revealing Jackson before he slips inside the bathroom. You stand up, but before you open your mouth to say something, he picks you up and presses you against the wall. You wrap your legs around Jackson’s waist, kissing him with a bruising force. Jackson slides his tongue through your lips and into your mouth, exploring it as his hands grip your ass. You reach a hand down and unzip and unbutton Jackson’s pants, your hand snaking past his underwear band and wrapping around his cock. 

“Fuck,” Jackson seethes, already hard from previous events in your seats earlier.

He pushes up the hem of your dress around your hips, pulling your underwear down far enough for him to slowly enter your throbbing core. Both of you gasp at the feeling, hours of pining hitting the climax. You thought Jackson was attractive the moment you laid eyes on him. You aren’t passing up the opportunity to join the mile-high club with such a gorgeous man. Jackson pushes further into you, and you relax more so he can press his hips into yours. Your fingers grasp at his hair as he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in. Your back roughly hits the wall behind you, but it wouldn’t be the last time. You have to hold onto the wall with one hand to not bang into it, your other hand holding onto Jackson’s hair for dear life as he fucks you without mercy. 

“God,” you say, the word drawn out as you and Jackson’s hips slam into each other. 

Jackson covers your mouth as you stare into his blue eyes, now darkened with lust, “Stay quiet.”

You nod, “Mhmm,” you hum from underneath his hand.

Your eyes stay on each other as you move your body forward in time with Jackson, his cock hitting that spot inside you perfectly, sending shockwaves over you. Jackson wraps an arm around your waist, holding you steady as his other hand moves between the two of you to rub tight figure 8’s on your bundle of nerves. You squeal, eyes rolling into the back of your head as Jackson continues to fuck into you like you’re a sex object. You feel yourself clenching around him as your orgasm creeps up. You pull on Jackson’s hair harshly, causing him to moan as his hips stutter. You do it again, and he has to bite your neck in order not to moan out loud. 

“Are you gonna cum?” Jackson grunts into your ear, “Huh?”

“Yes,” you gasp, “Fuck yes, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum around my cock, pretty thing.”

Your release smacks you in the face, sending your body reeling as it nearly convulses against the lavatory wall. Jackson cums right after you as the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock sends him over the edge. You milk him for all he’s got, rutting your hips through both of your orgasms. You both catch your breath as Jackson lets your legs collapse back to the floor weakly. He holds you up as you regain your posture.

“I suddenly really like flying now,” you push your hair out of your sweaty face.

“Me too,” Jackson says with an expressionless face, which you match.

Suddenly, both of you burst out laughing but cover your mouths quickly before anyone can hear in the plane. After cleaning yourselves up, you both successfully sneak out of the bathroom and back to your seats, covering up with the blanket.

“Ever barhopped in Miami?” you ask Jackson, trying your best to hold your eyes open.

“Nope. You?’

“Nope. Want to?”

“Absolutely.”

taglist:

@baizzhu @aporiasposts @hjmalmed @queenshelby @amanda08319 @naty-1001 @orijanko @raineeace @nela-cutie @cutexlr

[fanged-fanfics]

☆ A Little Frost — Sebastian x GN Reader ☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

The snow had fallen in a thick white sheet, covering the grounds of Stardew Valley. You'd woken up disappointed to see your crops that hadn't yet been moved into safer storage had already completely shriveled up. But, not wanting to waste the day, you gathered what you could from what you already had. You refilled the food and water bowls for your trusted pet before setting off towards Pelican Town.

You heard the crunching beneath your farm boots as you walked down the dirt road, steps making little indents in the powdery white snow. You shivered, rubbing your arms. Despite your planning, you apparently hadn't accounted for how cold the Valley could get. The thin jacket you had packed proved quickly to not be enough. But still, you had a bunch of crops stowed away, and they absolutely needed to get turned in today. Tomorrow was Wednesday, and you needed that time to tend to cleaning up the grounds, not managing crops.

As you huffed shallow breaths that left little white clouds of frostbreath in the air, you finally got to the center of the town. You gave a little wave to the members who were out and about, all completely dressed up for the cold. Lucky bastards.

You opened the door to Pierre's General Store, relieved that cheap ol' Pierre could apparently see the sense in adding heating to his store. At least that's one thing he could have a better mind about, you figured. With trembly, frigid hands, you placed your crops down, trading them for money. "We have the usual in store," Pierre began "But I don't think you'll be able to do much with anything". "Just show me the seeds collection, please" You said through shaky shudders. Pierre rolled his eyes at your insistence, but he dipped behind the counter to grab the box of seed packs.

Mid-mental curse, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jolted, turning around. You nearly stumbled, but a stabilizing hand grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back up "I know I'm not out much, but I didn't think I was that surprising to see". You looked up at the recognizable voice, sighing in relief as you saw the familiar swept dark hair of your closest town companion, Sebastian. "Oh, whew. You're so pale I thought you were a ghost" You said jokingly. Sebastian scoffed and chuckled lightly, nudging your arm "Yeah, and I'm gonna haunt your ass".

Pierre interrupted your bantering by plopping down the box of packs. You flicked through it, carefully selecting what to spend your earnings on. After getting a good amount, you hopped up to where Sebastian had wondered off to browse the shelves. "You here for anything?" You asked, storing away your new seeds. "Mhm, mom asked me to pick things up for the Feast of the Winter Star" Sebastian answered. You leaned over behind him, chin hovering over his shoulder "Y'got anyone in particular you wanna give something to?". Sebastian turned his head away from you a smidge, not wanting you to see how his cheeks warmed a bit "Psshh, not really. Prolly gonna get Shane or something with my luck"

"I thought you liked Shane" You said, watching as Sebastian paid for his own little carry-out basket of necessities. "I don't hate him or anything" Sebastian said "He's just really hard to shop for. He has the same reaction to everything". "Sounds a lot like you" you teased, letting Seb catch up to you as you began walking to the door together. "Aha. Never heard that one" Sebastian mumbled in response. You gave him a gentle nudge, returning his earlier gesture, which did get him to smile a little.

Once you both stepped out, conversation continued while walking down the roads. The wind picked up, making you curl in on yourself a little. Sebastian glanced at you, and you quickly tried to stand up straight. He chuckled, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck. While you were rubbing your arms to try and warm up, you felt a fabric gently landing around your shoulders.

As you glanced over, Sebastian's dark eyes were looking downwards, making sure he could properly wrap it around you. You stood still, hoping he'd assume the redness in your face was just from the chill. Once you were securely wrapped up, he stepped back, hands on your shoulders. The cold clinging to his gloves only made you shiver more. "Any better?" He asked, eyes meeting yours. You almost forgot how to respond, too focused on how close he was. He'd gotten more open to you recently, but seeing him smile was still a welcome sight. It's much warmer than the gloomy goth look he carries around as a default.

Once you noticed his eyebrows beginning to furrow in confusion, you brought yourself back into the present. "Ah-! Yeah, yeah. Kinda" you finally responded "Doesn't make my arms any less cold, though. But thanks for keeping my neck warm, I guess" you added, trying to kick back up the playful energy you two usually shared. Sebastian stepped back, nodding in a certain direction. "Fair enough. Come with me, we can hang in my room for a bit". You hesitated for only a second. You should really get back home to sort out these seeds, but- ah, whatever, Grandpa'll understand.

You hopped up to be by Sebastian's side, linking your arm with his as the snow kicked up and began fluttering down around you. He held you a little closer, feeling your arm. "Damn, you're about to freeze-" he muttered "Come on, I'm sure mom'll insist on making you something". As you two walked, you stole a glance at him as he led the way. He seemed so relaxed. You pressed closer to his side a little, attempting to soak up some body heat. He moved his arm to being around your shoulders, gently ushering you to his warm home.

[lovemybluebully]

Over My Dead Body

Got writer's block on the fic I mentioned with X23 so I wrote this to keep my creative juices flowing. 😁 Hope you guys don't mind. lol I swear this was just going to be a little drabble, buuuuuuut I got carried away. It was just like, I have an idea! Oooh I have another idea! And then it just spiraled. 🤣 I suck at writing short fics. lol

Probably not my best work, but just a little silliness between these two guys. Another fic where Wade discovers Logan is ticklish and goes all out on him. I very much enjoy tickle origin fics. 🥰

Again some somewhat movie spoilers, but if you haven't seen the biggest movie in the world by now then that's your fault. lol Then of course the typical foul language and Deadpool's dirty mouth.

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

ler!Wade/Deadpool x lee!Logan/Wolverine

M/M Tickle Fic

Word Count: 5,139

"Fucking give me that remote, Wilson!" Logan let out a teeth-bared snarl while chasing Wade comically around and around the couch like in a Scooby Doo cartoon.

"But baby cakes, I want to watch 'Touched By An Angel'! Wade snickered, managing to stay just one step ahead.

"Fuck that shit! This is the final round for the Flames in the Stanley Cup, and I am NOT missing it!" He finally caught up to Wade and took him down with a flying tackle of heavy adamantium as they both crashed to the floor and the tv remote went sailing out of reach.

Logan quickly scrambled to his feet as he made a break for it, but Wade successfully grabbed his leg to trip him as he hit the floor again with the merc now up and giggling as he ran to claim the prize.

"Yessss! Home run! And the crowd goes wild!" Wade mimicked the sounds of a cheering stadium while triumphantly holding the remote over his head. However, this was instantaneously followed by a loud growl from Logan as he charged his roommate like a bull and slammed into him harder than a Mack truck.

Wade didn't have time to yelp as his body went flying across the room though the remote had been knocked from his grasp and dropped to the ground, exploding the case open as the batteries all popped out. Logan reached down to pick it all up, shaking his head in annoyance as he walked back over towards the couch and tried to jam the batteries back in properly.

"Motherfucking idiot. Just sit your stupid ass down and take the L. I'm putting on the hockey game and that's that."

But Wade wasn't through yet. He was having too much fun with this! He was always trying to get Logan to roughhouse and play with him, but with the X-man being such a stiff it was hard to get him to let loose. Alcohol usually played a big factor in getting Logan to loosen his inhibitions and engage, but at the current moment he was sober as a judge. 

Pissing him off was the next best thing, and Wade loved a good chase and the physical contact, even if it was of the more painful variety. They had a rule about not spilling any blood inside the apartment, but he knew Logan could be pushed too far sometimes and forget about that so Wade would usually back off before he reached that point.

Though at this present time he had only antagonized him a little bit so he knew Logan would be able to tolerate him just a smidge more.

Logan's hypersensitive ears easily picked up the sound of the energetic man coming at him again as he turned around just as Wade plowed all of his weight into him to tackle him onto the couch. Wade quickly took the position to straddle the man's thighs and started making grabs for the remote as growling curses were hurled at him.

"Goddammit! You juvenile fucking moron! Just back off! The only way you're getting this is over my dead body!"

"Bet," Deadpool nodded and kept up in his efforts.

As they played slap-hands fighting to get a hold of the controller it slipped from their grip, hitting Logan in the face on its way down before sliding inside his collar down into his button-up overshirt.

"Nice going, captain loser. Don't worry, I'll get it!" Wade immediately went after it as he haphazardly began squeezing and poking around Logan's midsection as he tried to find the location of the remote hidden beneath the fabric.

As irritated as he was Logan now found that he had a new problem as his body started involuntarily reacting to the way Wade was grabbing at him. It was making his skin crawl. Shivers running up his spine as he began to writhe underneath the other man, trying to avoid the touches.

"Stop squirming, would you? You're making this way harder than it has to be. And I can't find the remote either," Wade teased, always managing to slip in inappropriate innuendos, but Logan was too occupied to make a sarcastic retort as he frantically tried to grab and get control of Wade's busy hands.

"Q-Quit it, shithead!" Logan gritted through his teeth as Wade just clucked his tongue and shook his head.

"Oh c'mon! Stop fighting it and just give it up!" Wade's words held a double meaning in this situation as his hands moved lower, giving the grump a particularly firm squeeze around his hips as Logan couldn't hold it in anymore. 

His back arched off the couch accompanied by a loud snort; his nose scrunched as a soft string of giggles tumbled their way out. 

Upon hearing that Wade immediately stopped what he was doing; practically frozen in shock as he stared down at the bigger male below him. After a few long, tense moments a slow grin of realization started to spread over his face and Logan was suddenly overcome with a feeling of immense dread at what was about to transpire.

"Did...Did you just giggle?"

"....No," was all Logan could say lamely; his uneasy mind not allowing him to come up with anything else as Wade only smiled more.

"Now here's the plot twist that I never would have expected. You wanna tell me what that was all about? Forgive me if I'm finding it difficult to believe that a hardened tough guy like you could possibly be, dare I say it.....ticklish."

Logan's eyes betrayed him as they widened in pure terror; his brain frantically trying to figure out a solution to get him out of this mess, but his silence told more than enough.

"Ohohoho, you are, aren't you? Well this just made things a lot more sexy...I mean, interesting," Wade stroked his own chin, pondering the situation while Logan finally regained his wit and was now on the rebound to try to deny it.

"What? Are you kidding? Tch! I am not ticklish. Where the fuck do you come up with such stupid ideas?" He made his best attempt to sound convincing, but Wade could easily see right through his bullshit.

"I gotta tell you that all sounds exactly like something a ticklish person would say. A pitiful performance like that isn't going to win you any Oscars," Wade smirked before his eyes then drifted back down to Logan's torso, "Oh dear. It looks like the remote has fallen inside your shirt. Whatever shall we do?"

Wade was gently tugging at the front of his shirt as Logan narrowed his eyes.

"Just get offa me and I'll get it myself. Quit looking for excuses to grope me, ya fucking pervert," Logan growled deeply with his characteristic hard-as-nails Wolverine glare, trying to be as off-putting as possible to hopefully get Wade to lose the notion.

"But it's so confusing when your mouth says 'no', but your eyes say 'yes'," Wade grinned, giving a light tickle to Logan's sides that made him flinch, "By the way, what do you want your safe word to be?"

"Touch me and I will cut your useless motherfucking head off, Wilson."

Wade laughed chaotically and shook his head.

"Now that's kind of a mouthful to say. You should pick something easier like 'umbrella' or 'avocado' or 'supercalifragilisticexpialidocious'-"

Logan realized he was running out of time for stalling and was now struggling to push Wade off of him before he could actually carry out this heinous act, but the merc simply shoved his arms aside and launched his attack, tickling wildly along his ribcage.

"Oh I get it! You don't want a safe word! Very kinky! I like your style! Well you did say the only way I was getting the remote was over your dead body. Who knew it was going to be death by tickling?"

Logan made a strained grunting noise as he steeled himself and began writhing about, still fighting to force Wade off despite the fingers running along his ribs. He in no way wanted to give Wade the satisfaction of making him laugh and would hold it in for as long as he could.

"Looks like we've got a tough guy, ladies and gentlemen," Wade grinned, momentarily looking out at the camera then turning back to his victim, "You know in all the fanfics I've read it's always the toughest guys that are the most ticklish of all. Look at you doing everything in your power not to laugh. How cute. Too bad you're not going to be able to keep that up. I pretty much wrote the book on 'lerring."

Wolverine had no idea what that meant but could hardly fathom the idea that he was going to have to listen to Wade's annoying jabbering and teases without being able to give him a piece of his mind. Because if he even dared to open his mouth it was game over and he was going to fucking lose it.

"So are you like one of those guys who are only ticklish around here...," Wade squeezed and massaged into his sides as an involuntary grin stretched across Logan's face while keeping his jaw clenched, "Or are you one of those head-to-toe ticklish kinda guys? I'm betting the latter."

While still keeping one hand digging into his side Deadpool now reached up to teasingly trace his fingers with a feather-light touch over Logan's ear and down his neck as the man wrenched his head away and scrunched up his shoulder to try to cover up that side of his head.

"Ooooh so sensitive. Am I going to have some fun with you. All we're missing is the sweet sound of your laughter. C'moooooooon just let it out already. You're not embarrassed of your laugh, are you? I'm sure it's wonderful. Don't be shy now, it's just the two of us here."

Every word that came out of Wade's mouth was slowly eating away at Logan's resolve along with his mental capacity to resist the laughter building up inside of him. Giving into Wade's demands was not high on his list of favorable activities, but he knew it was about to happen whether he wanted it to or not.

"You are one hard nut to crack, I'll give you that. But that's okay, it's just going to make breaking you even sweeter. Heheh, look how red your face is. You look like you're about to explode. I just need to find the right spot to poke that bubble and free you of your burden. Hmmm, I think I know where....," Wade smirked big time as he changed tactics to thrust his hands underneath Logan's arms and furiously tickle into his armpits.

The battle was finally over. Logan had fought for as long as he possibly could, but he just couldn't take it anymore. With Wade having honed in on one of his most sensitive areas he felt his lips make one last valiant effort to stay sealed as they trembled right before releasing his loud, pent-up outburst.

"HAHAHaahaha! AhahahahaStop! Stahahahap ihihhit!" Logan hollered as he managed to shove Wade's hands out of his pits, though they immediately latched onto his waist and dug right in. Wade was beyond pleased with this turn of events.

"Ahhhh there it is. And it's just as adorable as I imagined. See? Nothing to be embarrassed about," Wade's grin encompassed his whole face as he didn't let up and kept kneading his thumbs right above Logan's hips.

"I wahahahasn't embahahaharrassed, ya dehehehense fuhuhuhucking prihihihiiick!  Gahahahahaa! Just didhihihidn't wahahahaha-wahant to gihihihive you the sss-satisfahahahaction!" Logan struggled to speak clearly through his laughter as he twisted and squirmed, trying to wriggle out from under the other man.

"Well mission failed, my little stud muffin. I can't believe you've been hiding your ticklishness from me all this time. Think of all the fun we're going to have together now!" Wade exclaimed with pure glee as he moved back up to the ribs now that he was receiving the reactions he wanted, making Logan cackle uncontrollably.

"Fuhuhuhuhuuuuck!! Okaahahahay! You gohohohohot meheheee! I'm tihihihicklish! Now fuhuhuhuhuhuck ohhohohoff!" Logan's hysterical proclamation was accompanied by a series of hard snorts, making Wade's face light up even more.

"You're a snorter?! Oh that's just so precious! How can you expect me to fuck off after hearing that?! Nononono, I think I will keep fucking on, thank you very much! Besides if I stop now then this will be the shortest tickle fic ever written!" He increased his speed, probing between every rib bone as he played his friend's sides like a ticklish piano.

Logan surprisingly laughed even harder, wheezing for air as he continued letting out a snort every few seconds with his burly arms pitifully clamped as tight as he could against his sides. Nothing was stopping the devilishly dexterous fingers of his hyper roommate though.

"Wihihihilsonaaahahahahah.......sssstooooohahahahahahooooop! I'll....I'll gihihihihive you ohohone lahahahast chaaa-EEEHEEHEEHeheheheheheeh!" Logan literally squealed much to his chagrin as he broke into high-pitched giggles with Wade switching spots to now claw mercilessly at his stomach and waist.

"Oh I've never heard a Wolverine squeal before. It's just the gift that keeps on giving. Definitely going to need that as my new ringtone. But hmmm, I think this could be better...," Wade mused as his fingers kept scratching over the buttons going down Logan's flannel shirt, no doubt hindering his tickling efforts if only a little.

In the next second he grabbed Logan's overshirt and pulled hard in opposite directions to pop all the buttons as the remote was finally freed and clattered to the floor. The mercenary smirked as he saw that Logan wasn't wearing anything underneath as his hairy, heavy-muscled torso was now on full display.

Logan was grateful that it had all stopped and the remote was now nowhere near him as he leaned his head back and tried to catch his breath.

"........Fuck......Okay.....You win you win. Just take the fucking thing.....and go ahead and watch your stupid ass shoHOHohOhOHOhoW! NAAAAHOHOHOHOOOOO!!"

Logan had thought it was over, but his momentary sparkle of hope vanished instantly as Wade paid the controller no mind and lunged for him again.

"Ahh yes, that's much better! Now I can really get my hands in here!" Wade smirked in delight with his fingers currently buried and wriggling into Logan's armpits while the feral man roared with deep belly laughs before fizzling into helpless wheezes.

"Ohoho you're very tickly here, aren't you? Bet you wish you would've chosen a safe word now, huh? Or not. Maybe you're enjoying this. Is that it? Don't lie to me now."

"I'm gohohohohonna fffffff-aaahahahhahahah.....fuhuhuhucking k-kihihihill yooooou!" Logan wheezed out as he weakly smacked at Wade's arms and haphazardly kicked his legs around.

"Awww don't be mean, peanut. I just can't get enough of the sound of your laugh. That's not a crime, is it?"

Logan couldn't remember having ever been tickled like this. It had been so long since he'd been this close to anybody, and his memory of such things was pretty fuzzy of anything that happened before his regrettable incident. After those events he'd become even more withdrawn and had fallen deep into depression from the unbearable guilt he felt, confident that he never deserved to be happy again.

And then this annoying little fucker appeared at that bar one day and dragged him on the wildest, most fucked up adventure he could ever recall being on. If at the beginning of all that someone had told him that Wade and he were going to become great friends then he would have laughed right in their face.

But it did happen, and Logan was taken-aback to finally be around someone again who actually cared about his well-being. Someone who wanted the best for him and to make sure that he knew that he mattered. Someone who wanted nothing more than for him to be happy.

And Deadpool was always trying to make him laugh. The look of genuine happiness on Wade's face was unmatched whenever one of his jokes managed to land and make Logan chuckle. The X-man seemed to smile a lot more these days, but laughing was still a rare occurrence for him, which is why Logan was so defensive against the tickling that was currently causing him to do so.

But could he say with complete honesty that he truly hated all this? The answer irked him a little bit because it was no, he didn't hate it, but he was conflicted because he still didn't think he should be allowed to feel pure joy again. 

He felt that guilt come up again when he admitted to himself that laughing like this actually felt good. He didn't deserve to feel good. Ever. But obviously Wade had a difference of opinion on that. Wanting him to smile. Wanting him to laugh. Wanting him to let go of his guilt and be happy in this universe that undoubtedly wouldn't be here without him.

"Don't think I forgot about this little sweet spot!"

Wade brought him out of these thoughts rather quickly once he began scribbling all ten fingers over his taut, bare stomach as the Wolverine tossed his head back in howling laughter with his eyes squeezed shut and tears forming in the corners of them.

"Coochie coochie coo! Awwww wittle Wolvie is so ticklish! Yes, he is! Yes, he is!" The merc cooed playfully, knowing all these teases were key to breaking down Logan's mental barriers. And it was working as Logan finally stopped feeling sorry for himself and just gave into it all.

"W-Waaade nooooo! Aahahahahahaah! Cuhuhuhut it ohohhohout! Pleeheheheheeease!"

The merc cocked his head in amusement, having never heard Logan even come close to begging for anything before.

"Oooooh this really is a killer spot, isn't it? Is this rock-hard belly of yours the most ticklish of all? How ironic," Wade mused while absentmindedly squirming a finger down into his navel, making Logan buck strongly and shriek with unrestrained giggles.

"Shihihihiiiiit! Aaaheehehehehehee! Noohohohooot in thehehehere! Fohohor fuhuhuhucks saahaahaakeheehehehehehahahah-st-stoohahahahop tihihihickling! You're kihihhihillin' meheeheehee!"

Wade's stomach did a little somersault at how vulnerable Logan was now being with him. It was all he ever wanted was to see his friend let go of all his anger and self-loathing of the past and surrender himself to the present day. 

Logan was laughing freely now. He wasn't grinding his teeth and trying to hold anything in anymore and he even stopped really fighting to get Wade off of him.  His face and chest were flushed, tears running down his cheeks as he just laid there in a squirming heap with his wide-open mouth releasing endless peals of laughter and pleas for mercy.

In all honesty Wade didn't want to stop just so he could keep Logan in this state for as long as possible where he was freed from the prison of his own mind, though he knew that he'd have to let him go eventually. Still not quite this second.

"Stop? But I couldn't possibly! Look how happy it's making you! I'd be an asshole to rob you of that! Lucky for you I'm such a good friend, huh?! Tickletickletickletickle! Laugh it up, buddy!" He kept ruthlessly tickling his heaving belly while his other hand slid up to creep back into his armpit, rendering Logan into a powerless wheezing wreck.

"Nohohohooot fahahahaaair! Baahahhhahahaha! Wahahade pleeeease! I cahahahaa-cahahaan't tahahake anymohohohore! Uhuhuhuhuncle!"

Between Wade's unrelenting yapping and Logan's loud fits of laughter they both failed to hear the sound of the front doorknob rattling right before it opened and in walked Dopinder with several plastic bags of take-out in his hands.

"Hello? Your UberEats order is here, Mr. Logan. I've got your hot wings and your pizza rolls and your-AAAH!!" Dopinder let out a scream as he rounded the corner to find Wade straddling and feeling up a howling, red-faced and bare-chested Wolverine. 

Upon hearing the terrified cry Wade immediately paused what he was doing as he looked back over his shoulder like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Uhh heeeey Dopinder. Ummm.....This isn't what it looks like.....," he had a guilty look on his face, but quickly revealed his facade as he broke into a devious grin, "Just fucking with you! It's totally what it looks like!"

"And-And what exactly does it look like?" The younger man dared to ask despite his better judgement.

"Well you see Dopinder when two men start living together they begin to develop these feelings; feelings that cause them to get these strong urges that they just can't ignore and-," Wade's tirade of nonsense was cut off as Logan took the opportunity to give him a hard shove and flip him over the back of the couch between pants for air

"Fucking idiot. Don't...freak out, kid. The asshole....was just ticklin' me...is all," Logan breathlessly grunted while moving to take a normal seated position on the couch as Wade then popped his head up from the back.

"That's what he wants to call it. Wanna get in on this action, Dopinder?"

"Oh uhh hehe, n-no thank you. I actually have some more deliveries to get finished. Ermm, next time perhaps," he stuttered nervously as he gingerly placed the food down onto the coffee table in front of them and began to make his exit from the apartment.

"Don't think I'm not holding you to that," Wade teased, making his former cab driver blush and dart out through the door as Wade chuckled and nudged Logan in the shoulder, "Hehehe, did you see how flustered he got? I'll bet he's even more ticklish than you are."

"Leave the kid alone, Wilson. You'd probably kill him. He doesn't have a healing factor like I do," Logan snorted, bunching up his shoulders as Wade lightly ran a finger across the back of his neck.

"Ohh I can be gentle if I want. But I'm pretty sure you're the kind of guy who likes it rough," Wade teased as he moved around to the front of the couch to sit next to the other man, surprised to hear Logan let out a low chuckle.

"Was that a laugh? Nice to see you finally start to appreciate my elite level of humor. Maybe I won't have to start with the daily tickle sessions after all."

Logan made a face at that and lifted his brow.

"Daily? Yeah fuck no, that ain't happening. Once in a while......fine. But I don't think I could take it every day," he mentally shivered thinking about what Wade just put him through.

"Tell you what, you start laughing a little more at my jokes and I'll consider it. But no fake laughing! Because I can tell the difference! Especially now that I know what your real laugh sounds like and let me tell you it's going to be hard for me to get enough of it," Wade experimentally grabbed his knee, giving it a firm squeeze and digging his fingers in around the kneecap as Logan instantly wheezed out a laugh and quickly wrenched the hand off of him.

"Alrihight! I get it! Promise I'll try!"

"I guess that's all I can ask of you. Of course I'm still making it my mission to find everywhere else you're ticklish, and what other really bad spots you have.....unless you just want to tell me," Wade suggested with a grin as Logan just smirked right back.

"Now where'd be the fun in that?"

"You know, you are so right, you smug little honey badger. I gotta say though I'm liking this mood you're in now."

"Well it's your fault. Ya tickled me so bad I couldn't even think straight. Seems like you pushed all the negative thoughts right outta my mind," Logan confessed as Wade began to reconsider his earlier promise.

"Is that so? Hmmm maybe those daily tickle sessions are a good idea after all...," Wade teased just to watch Logan squirm at the thought again.

"I don't think so, bub. Besides, look what ya did," he gestured to his wide-open shirt, pointing at all the areas missing buttons, "You ruined my favorite fucking shirt, dickhead."

"Hardly. You've got like twenty of the exact same one. That's all you ever wear," Wade was quick to point out as Logan just shrugged with a smile.

"So? What's your point?"

"My point is you're a walking fashion disaster. But okay, I'll try not to be so rough next time. We can do the gentle stuff if you prefer. So for research purposes can you tell me how you feel about feathers, hm?" He grinned as he saw Logan shift uneasily in his seat.

"You're gettin' a little crazy now, Wilson."

"Oh c'moooon, just imagine a nice, fluffy feather teasing that big ol' neck of yours.....circling your little tummy button....stroking the backs of your knees.....threading between all your toes....I can't imagine that your feet were spared of your adorable weakness."

"Wade...."

"Oooh! What about raspberries?! Those are fun! Bet it would drive you insane if I blew them on your belly. How about we test that out really quick?" Wade took a deep breath and started leaning towards him with his eyes locked onto his stomach.

"Alright cut it out!" Logan's hand caught him by the face and shoved him kind of hard, though couldn't stop himself from chuckling as he shook his head, "Fuckin' hell, you've seriously got a career in how to mentally torture a guy."

"At your service," Wade tipped an invisible hat as he then surveyed all the bags of food on the table in front of them, "So what did you order all of this for?"

"I told ya I was gonna watch the hockey game. Can't watch it without some proper snacks now," he reached into one of the bags and pulled out a tall can of beer as he popped the pull ring and took a long drink out of it while the other man began removing the take-out boxes.

"Chimichangas? Since when do you eat chimichangas?" Wade looked over at him questionably upon opening one of the containers as Logan gave him a half-smile.

"I got those for you, dumbass. Thought maybe you'd wanna hang out and watch the game with me." 

Wade was left momentarily speechless, truly touched by Logan's unexpected gesture.

"Well.....yeah of course. I'd love to. But how come you didn't ask me earlier?"

"Didn't get a chance to because you started bein' an idiot and going off about some other stupid show....'Touched By An Asshole' or something. What kinda pervy ass show is that anywaahaahaays?" Logan giggled, rubbing at his ribs where Wade had now just indignantly poked him.

"It's 'Touched By An Angel', you disrespectful twat. And it's a national treasure. But besides the fact that I've seen every episode, I didn't really want to watch it. I was just trying to get a rise out of you. You seemed tense," Wade admitted as Logan only shrugged and sipped from his beer can.

"When am I not?"

"Umm...Right now. Honestly I haven't you seen this relaxed in.....ever. Even when you're drunk sometimes you're still pretty moody," Wade pointed out as Logan took it in and knew he was right. He'd literally been forced into laughing off all of the burdens that he had carried for many years. His mind currently free from all the adverse feelings and troubles that he'd been endlessly plagued. 

The effects were likely not permanent but at least for the time being he felt good. Having to suffer through a vicious tickle attack to achieve that was more than worth it he decided.

"Hmph. Yeah. I guess you're right," a smile broke across Logan's face as he punched Wade in the shoulder, "Thanks asshole."

"Any time. And if you ever change your mind about the daily ticklings then I'm your guy," Wade was glowing from the actual genuine appreciation he'd just received from the normally cantankerous Wolverine.

"Heh. We'll see," Logan smirked as he bent over to pick up the remote off of the floor and turned on the television ahead of them, switching channels until he found the right one, "So do ya even like hockey?"

Wade nodded enthusiastically.

"Love it so much that I've never watched a game in my entire life," he said matter-of-factly before clapping his hands in excitement when he saw Dogpool trot into the room, patting the spot on the couch next to him as she jumped up.

Logan sighed as he handed his roommate a beer, realizing that the next few hours were going to be filled with Wade obnoxiously asking questions about every little thing that happened in the game. Though he couldn't help but smile as he watched the man-child start happily eating the chimichangas while simultaneously feeding little bits of them to his unusual looking dog.

Truth be told they all were an unusual bunch. Not just the three of them, but Blind Al, Peter, and Dopinder, to name a few. All these people that Wade had brought into his life and openly shared with him. Not to mention without Wade's intervention he never would have met Laura; someone he found he made a fast connection with and was now someone he cared deeply about.

Really Wade had rescued him that day. Rescued him from himself and gave him another reason to keep on living for. He felt his heart warm as he looked over at one of the side tables where Wade kept a framed photo of all of their friends; only now it was a new picture that included Logan, Laura and Mary Puppins in it.

Logan's smile grew as he reached over to pat the dog on the head before Wade made a whimpering noise and leaned his own head towards him to receive the same affection. He chuckled and obliged for a few moments before getting a wicked grin on his face as he snatched the hair piece off of Wade's head, prompting a momentary yelp of pain from the scarred man.

As the merc rubbed at his head while glaring over at him Logan found it impossible not to start laughing while jokingly dangling the toupee up in his hand. Wade then promptly broke into a smirk that told him he was dead, though even with that warning Logan made no attempt to escape.

Wade easily knocked him onto his back again to mercilessly tickle his sides while at the same time making the Wolverine shriek by blowing those promised raspberries into his stomach. And they tickled just as badly as Wade had said.

Yes, they were an unusual bunch, but they were his whole world now. And Logan was never going to let them down. Over his dead body.