#i have nothing to say in my tags for once (GASP!) lol

[jj-one]

PRESS PLAY !

your boyfriend Jungkook convinces you to make a sextape with him, ultimately ending up with you getting wrecked on camera.

pairing: bf!Jungkook x gf!reader genre/tags: pwp (plot is barely there), smut, piv, unprotected sex, dom!jungkook/sub!reader, manhandling, daddy kink?, there is absolutely nothing holy about this fic… read at your own risk that’s all i’m gonna say tbh words: 3.0k

[note] if you remember seeing this before yes i’m the original author i didn’t plagiarize lol, i made a new blog and was formerly known as @milkychae but deleted a while ago. i’ll be reposting all my old deleted fics and using this as an archive !

Jungkook checks himself out in the mirror one last time, threading his fingers through his thick, silky hair before hitting the record button to start filming.

He had the camera set up on a tripod placed in front of the bed, flashing you a soft smile. You couldn’t stop ogling his divine features, he looked so damn good. His messy jet-black hair swept the sides of his face and was only in a pair of white Calvin Klein boxers. He just looks like pure heaven, unable to keep yourself contained as you sneak glances at his nicely toned, heavily tattooed body. You can literally stare at his beautiful sculpted abs all day, he was the true definition of perfection.

‘How’d I get so lucky to have the hottest boyfriend alive?’ You often thought to yourself.

“M’kay, ready babe?” Jungkook asks reassuringly, he knows you’re excited to do this just as much as he is.

You nod your head “mhm, was born ready!” He chuckles at your cuteness, pressing the little red ‘record’ button on his camera.

Once the camera begins rolling Jungkook wastes no time to spring into action, turning towards you to cup your face in his large hands. He kisses you hungrily, causing you to moan ever so slightly into him, without breaking the kiss you both land onto the bed— he’s hovering over your frame providing light touches to your thigh. You were enjoying every minute of this so far, never getting enough of the sweet taste of him. Pulling away for a second, he grabs ahold of your neck, keeping you in place while his free hand roam all over your upper body. He presses wet kisses to your jaw and chin, then comes back up to kiss your pretty lips once again, making the kiss grow sloppier and heavier. A string of Jungkook’s saliva forms when he momentarily detaches hisself from your lips, smiling down at you. It was more of a devilish smile though, a smile that looks like he was going to snatch the soul out of your body. You two play around on the bed for a bit, passionately kissing and enjoying each other’s presence.

“Come here baby,” Jungkook says, instructing you to get on top of him now, positioning himself behind one of the fluffy pillows on the bed. You do exactly as you’re told and get on his lap to straddle him, he grabs your face with his left hand to kiss you some more while rubbing your ass, harshly slapping it in the process. You wore the tiniest pink micro skirt with bows on the side, it was a mesh material and super see through. Jungkook loved the outfit you were wearing since it was a tiny two-piece crop top and skirt, adoring the curves and shape of your body in the least bit of clothing possible. Slowly lifting up your skirt now, he licks his lips when looking down at your bare pussy, teasing your entrance with his tatted fingers. You quietly gasp as he rubs your soaked folds in an up and down, slow motion, making you subconsciously twitch from sensitivity.

“My god.. you’re so fucking wet babygirl,” Jungkook groaned as he slid two fingers inside, “look how much you’re dripping already babe.” he whispers, staring in awe at his fingers disappearing into your sweet cunt. The room’s filled with only sounds of your wetness, combined with the soft moans you utter, all the juices dripping down your legs and his thumb brushing over your clit was having you see stars.

“You hear that? That’s what good pussy’s supposed to sound like,” Jungkook brags while looking over at the camera, he’s taking this very serious, as if you’re going to end up posting this on PornHub or something. You loved it though and you can tell how into this he is, which only makes you want to do a better job at pleasing him. You moaned louder for him as his fingers go deeper into you, reaching those spots that you never could. Rolling your eyes back as he fingers you harder, he was soaked in your juices, obsessed with the view behold him. You match the movements of his pace, grinding against his digits whilst he reaches a certain spongy spot— feeling so close to cumming already.

Then he abruptly took his fingers out of your dripping cunt, denying you of your orgasm. You whined loudly, clenching again just to feel something, wanting more of him filling you up at this very moment. You childishly pout and beg for more, but he just shushes you and flashes a smirk at your whininess. “Don’t worry sweet pea, m’gonna give you exactly what you need..” Jungkook rasps, still staring down at your cute pussy, but this time spreading your lips apart. He ran his finger down to your clit once again to gently rub in circles, making it even more puffy and swollen. Basking in all your beauty as you threw your head back from the intense pleasure.

“Wanna taste you,” Jungkook’s voice almost sounds desperate, not wanting to waste another second. “Come sit on my face babydoll,” he motions for you to temporarily get off of him, lying down on the bed, requesting that you still keep your skirt on. Placing yourself onto him and comfortably sit on his face, his mouth attaches to your pussy quicker than you can form a thought, already ferociously sucking on your clit. His hands went straight to your ass, slapping each cheek every chance he could, forming blatant red hand prints on your butt.

Jungkook was eating you out like his life was depending on it, uncontrollably moaning his name over and over again. You were in a frenzy as you grind on his face, grabbing the top of his head as if he was able to even go anywhere, his face was quite literally glued to your pussy. Jungkook kept at it for what felt like hours, your juices leaking all over his face without a care in the world. Then all of a sudden you felt this weird sensation, something you’ve never experienced before. It was the same slimy sensation that was all too familiar, but just in a different hole instead. Jungkook was licking your ass, his tongue kept flicking it at first, but now he’s fully immersed into it. He’s never done this to you before but it felt so amazing, it felt just as good as him eating you out but had a distinctly different feel to it.

“You like it baby?” He asks when pulling his tongue away, replacing it with his fingers. His fingers go so deep in your little hole making you squeal out loud.

“Mmm… yes daddy, I do!” A string of moans escape you, sounding so pretty that it’s like music to Jungkook’s ears. Smirking up at you while his digits continue going in and out of your ass, planting a quick kiss to your pussy.

“Fuck, I love you so much my love,” even during moments like these, Jungkook still reminded you how much he adores you, going back to licking your sensitive clit while still fingering your ass. You were in utopia, lost in the magical feeling of his tongue and fingers doing wonders on you. Jungkook could totally be a pornstar if he wanted to, he had the looks, the skill, and stamina.

“I love you so much kookie..” you mewl, closing your eyes from how intense all of this was. You can feel your release coming any minute and you only got louder for him, grabbing the strands of his hair, gripping it with everything you had. You were riding his face like a rodeo and he was more than here for it, his tongue never letting up on your clit. When he dragged a long stripe across your heat, that was all it took for you to cum all over his face. Slowing down your pace as you finally chase your high, smothering Jungkook with your creamy, juicy pussy.

“Goddamn babe, you made such a mess.” Jungkook grunts out when releasing you from his grasp, his face completely drenched with your juices. You come down from being on top and lower yourself to kiss his wet lips, getting a taste of you on his tongue.

Jungkook tells you to get up and stand directly in front of the camera, you immediately follow his orders. He makes his way over to you, ordering you again to get on your knees in a stern tone. Situating yourself down onto the floor, you pull his boxers down and his cock springs out freely from it’s barriers. Making steady eye contact with the camera while grabbing his thick, lengthy cock, the tip was so red and puffy, precum leaking out to make you even more hungry for him. You wasted zero time in filling your mouth with Jungkook’s cock, it felt so warm against your tongue, loving the prominent veins that would show when he was extra hard. You start taking in his length and getting a good rhythm going, bobbing your head up and down. Jungkook winces at the sensation, taking a fistful of your hair and slamming the entirety of his cock into your mouth. His length hits the back of your throat, coming into contact with your uvula, causing you to make a sudden gagging noise. The drool peeking out from the corners of your mouth becoming more apparent as he fucks your pretty mouth.

“You have the best lips for giving head babe,” Jungkook coos while sighing out and throwing his head back, “your mouth is so fucking good to me…” He couldn’t stop praising you, you were like an angel to him. An innocent angel that was only a freak for him. Jungkook starts to get a little rougher with you, forcefully pushing his cock even further down your throat, causing you to choke for real this time.

“Yeah just like that baby, choke on it,” he strokes your hair out the way to get a better look at you. He thrives off taking control of you, see how far he can push you, he knows you can handle it though, he does it out of pure love. “Like being stuffed with a mouthful of my cock, hm?”

“You’re such a dirty fucking slut, look at you,” Jungkook continues degrading you, “sucking my dick on camera like the filthy whore you are.”

You keep on sucking his cock as you look him in the eyes, the words he’s saying right now is all you need to hear for you to become even more of a dripping mess. Your wetness is only growing and it’s starting to spill onto the floor, oh how embarrassing…

Jungkook’s cock was buried deep inside your mouth, managing to fit all of him without gagging anymore. He’s trained you so well over the years it doesn’t take much warming up for all of him to settle in perfectly, it’s like it was made specifically for you. You stay like this for a while, feeling his fat cock throbbing in your mouth as you gaze up at his gorgeous face through your lashes, appreciating how much you admire him. You’d honestly do anything to make him happy. After awhile, you release him from your mouth and go straight to his balls, sucking them up like a vacuum. Jungkook moans out so violently that you think the neighbors could probably hear that one, your eyes grew wide as you didn’t expect him to be so vocal from that. Seeing the biggest smile etched on your boyfriend’s face.

“Shit.. you’re so good at that baby,” he compliments you again, holding the back of your head for dear life. You could suck him off for hours without ever getting tired of it.

He pulls you away from him, telling you to get back on the bed and to bend over with your ass facing up. You do so without hesitation and begin arching, ready for him to do whatever he wants. He proceeds to spread your pussy lips again, as if earlier wasn’t enough already, he dips his tongue back into your soaking wet heat. Your mouth goes agape, barely able to make a sound, only letting out a small moan as he continues, spitting a little on your slit and rubbing it in. He eats you out again while you look back at the camera, whimpering when he squeezes your left ass cheek and gives it a harsh slap. You whimper from all the stimulation, body vibrating as he chuckles at how adorable you are.

“Your pussy tastes so fucking good,” Jungkook is so obsessed with you, but it’s a mutual obsession amongst each other. He took a short break away from your wetness, “you don’t know what you do to me y/n.”

All you could do in that moment was moan like crazy, he was making you feel astronomically good. He licked a couple more languid stripes across your slit and gave it a little slap once he was done. Lifting his head up, he’s finally going to do what he’s been waiting for this entire time. He rubs your ass with one hand while stroking his cock for a little bit with the other, bringing the tip to the entrance of your slit and teasing your hole. His dick slipping in between your wet folds is driving you insane, making you want to just slide it in already.

“C’mon Koo, fuck me alreadyyy.” You were practically begging for him to stuff you at this point, wiggling your ass against him, wanting nothing more than to be filled up by him and only him.

“Alright babe damn, always so eager for me,” he groans as he starts pushing his cock inside of you now.

A broken moan escapes from your lips as you’re feeling him slowly opening you up, your tightness already adjusting to his girth. He began fucking you from behind at a rough pace, giving you exactly what you needed the most. Jungkook grabs your neck once again and brings your back towards his chest, saying all types of dirty, sinful things in your ear while he relentlessly fucks you, slamming his cock in and out of you making you go delirious. Practically shoving his hard length into you, you couldn’t help but scream out in pure ecstasy. His cock felt was the best thing on earth and the more he slammed into you the more you didn’t want it to ever be over.

He was so big you could feel his cock in your stomach, all your insides were being rearranged by him. Your ass was jiggling on his cock so nicely, giving him an absolutely stunning view. Firmly settling your face back into the pillows again, while looking down at your ass he grabs your waist firmly with one hand, the other being on your right butt cheek which was severely bruised from him spanking you earlier. You were so beyond soaking wet that the only noises filling up the room were the gushy sounds of your wetness and the ceaseless thrusts of Jungkook’s cock going deeper in you than ever before.

“Just wanna fill up your tight pussy with all my cum…” Jungkook coos, sounding so pussydrunk from all the pleasure he’s feeling right now. “Show me how desperately you want my cum inside you,” he keeps going, urging you to give him more of a reaction, probably since you’re both on camera.

“Mmm… yes daddy, need you to fill me up and make your cumslut pleasee,” you beg for him to continue fucking you, bouncing back on his cock and making him growl. You wanted him to feel like he was on top of the world, like you were a drug and the only cure for his addiction was your pussy. He keeps thrusting into you erratically, his strokes getting messier and sloppier as he soon reaches his climax.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh fuckk—“ Jungkook belts out a string of curses as he fucks your tight cunt, “m’gonna fucking cum babe… so close..” he grips onto your waist tighter, indefinitely picking up his pace as he starts to see flashes of white invade his vision. He was fucking into you so hard and fast that you couldn’t think or speak coherently anymore, just saying random words and babbling the entire time.

“Jungkook I love you, I love you so much..” was all you were able to say, to which he replies with “I love you more” and continues fucking you from behind like the rent is due. Your eyes were permanently at the back of your head as you were absorbed in the utmost pleasure. Jungkook’s hand reaches over to rub your clit as he proceeds to hit all the right spots inside you, his cock felt so good, everything just feels otherworldly to you right now.

“Ah! Cumming babe, gonna cum—“ Jungkook lets out the deepest groan as he shoots his load inside your warmth, “Oh my god, fuck yes…” he felt like he was on cloud nine, thrusting into you with slowed movements while coating your walls with his thick hot cum. You contract around him, soon reaching your climax right after him, both of your releases mixing together inside of you.

Once he pulls out, you were bodies intertwined with one another again, forgetting all about the camera that was still rolling. You aggressively kiss him, tongues mingling together as if you’re trying to swallow each other’s existence. You took a glance at the camera, checking the time on the screen to see that it’s been going on for almost an hour and thirty minutes now… Jungkook pulls away, noticing you looking at the camera, leaving for a quick second to finally turn it off. He faces back in your direction and presents you with the warmest smile, looking down at your thighs and eyeing the creamy mess that’s dripped down between your legs.

“Let’s get you all cleaned up huh darling?” Jungkook cutely offers, gently kissing your cheek. His big boba ball eyes were staring right into your soul with nothing but admiration and love for you. The duality of his actions were almost surreal, he just fucked you like the devil reincarnated but then acts like the sweetest angel once it’s all over. You’ve always adored that special quality about your boyfriend.

[killerkillerkillher]

Bound to Fall in Love

Angel/Demon! 141 x reader

Tags: kidnapping, sacrifices, religious references, reader is too angry to die, reader commits murder lol, canon typical violence??, reader gets a kissy on the forehead, a tad crack-ish

Inclusivity tags: reader is referred to w he/him and they/them pronouns, no bodily description, no y/n

A/n: call my brain an apple w all the worms it's got. This was just a blurb at first, but I made room in there for me to potentially make it into... something I guess.

minors dni!

"Cole, I can't fucking focus while they're just... staring at us like that."

"Ignore it, Bess. We have to finish these candles."

You wish a bolt of lightening would come down and strike all three of you at once. Or maybe the building spontaneously combusting would be better. Anything, anything, would be better at this moment than watching your boyfriend and best friend work together to light a summoning circle after having tied you up in your sleep.

For a fraction of a second, you wonder if any gods are watching, if any of them would be willing to give you a boon and allow you one last chance to punch both of these betrayers in the face.

"Okay, okay, the book," Bess mutters, going to the pick up her ritual book from the coffee table you bought. Honestly, if they were going to try to sacrifice you somewhere, your living room is one of the most disrespectful places. Probably right under your bed room.

"I'm sorry," Cole has the gaul to look down at you with a face stricken with grief. Like you're dead already. "We didn't know what else to do. We're both in bad places and you've always been so good to us, so we figured-"

"You better hope this fucking kills me." You grunt. Cole's face melts into a glare. "Because if I'm still breathing, it's going to take more than Satan's intervention to save you from me. I swear on my mother." You jerk forward, making him jump back a step.

"Cole...?" Bess looks at you, then up at Cole with unease. Cole doesn't say anything for a second, sorting his feelings out with a leer before turning to her.

"Read the book."

He drags you into the middle of their pentagram while she sings Latin words off the old book pages. The candles flicker and waver before their flames grow twice as tall. Cole rolls you onto your back and pulls a knife from his back pocket.

"I meant it when I said I'm sorry," Cole mutters. You snarl, but don't jump at him like you want to.

"Yeah? Yeah, you're sorry? Kiss my ass!" You shout over Bess's reading. "If I'm still alive after this, I'm killing you and burying you in the fucking septic tank!" You crane your head up so you can see Bess as well. "Time to get some stuff off my chest, yeah? Bess, I fucked your older brother on the day we graduated."

Her eyes go wide, and she almost stops talking, but Cole shoots her a look that forces her to continue.

"And his friend Carl, the one you had a crush on. And Cole? I never. Fucking. Finished. Ever! You are the only person I've dated who couldn't get me off." Cole's hand's twitch around the blade.

"Are you serious?"

"Does now look like a time to- ack!" You don't get to finish because Bess finished the spell and it was time for your blood to fuel it. The blade buries in your gut, turning this way and that way at measured increments. You just lay there and twitch, breathy gasps falling from your gaping mouth, the pain only throwing fuel to the fires of your rage.

"Please, we call you here! Honor us with your presence!" Bess chants. Cole step away from you when the candles roar and your vision is filled with bright red and orange.

The ground beneath you rumbles. Whispers fill your ears, nothing you can ever imagine understanding, but something tells you they're other summoners. Or maybe little souls of those who were just where you are now, with a people sacrificing them.

It's odd, you think as blood soaks your back, your hair. You thought you'd be more scared in what could be your final moments. But there's only anguish where there should be fear. Only unfettered violent tension felt in your muscles, and a tongue hungering for iron and gore. You're jaw is wound tight enough to shatter your teeth.

If you could think straight, if you weren't about to die, you might be a little concerned. Never have you wanted to sink your fingers into someone's soft bits as much as you do now. This is normal, right? A normal amount of rage for the people taking your life.

Something in your gut tells you it's not.

In the fog of your rage, you missed the appearance of a pair of men above you. They hover, leathery plum colored wings sagging. One wears a leather strap harness across his chest, while the other favors an unbuttoned silk shirt. One of them looks at you curious as the fire dies, steam and copper colored smoke bellowing from his mouth. A thick cigar hangs on his lips.

"You came! There's... two of you?" Cole gawks, then falls to his knees beside Bess. You can't help but scoff at their sniveling forms.

"We did. There are." The one without the cigar brushes back his long mohawk to get a better look at the whimpering humans. They're nothing new to them, just another set of weak little things looking to get something without putting in the work for it.

Well, they might have had to put in the work to capture you, based on the way you still squirm and fight the rope keeping your arms together. So much blood has left you. You are going to die. Yet you spend your last moments doing what most humans find to be a waste of precious time. Being angry. It's interesting.

"What do you want?" The bearded one in the silk shirt grunts out around his cigar. Bess lifts her head just a bit to speak.

"We want to make a trade. A soul for a better life for us."

There's a moment of silence. You blink your heavy lids, growing too tired to do much else anymore. Both demons look back at you, then to the kneeling humans.

"They're not dead." They say at the same time.

Bess and Cole stiffen and finally chance a glance at you. You're bleeding, a glassy look to your eye and a smile on your face, but you're not dead.

"See, Bess?" You cough up blood only to swallow it back down, "what did I tell you? The cunt can't make me come and can't... can't even make me go."

The mohawked devil pops a wicked smile, not even hiding it from his would-be contractors.

Cole fumes. "I can finish the job. Fuck, am I going to finish the job." He stands, moving to step into the circle only to yelp, the invisible border around the summoning circle becoming visible if only to shock Cole back.

"Not so fast," the bearded one spawns a scroll in his hand. He's eyes glow a molten orange as he scans it. "Section 1, clause 3, part 19 states: executioner(s) must sacrifice one(1) human soul to contractee(s)... Let's see... Here it is: Sacrificee(s) must be dead upon arrival so that proper collection can be done. If sacrificee(s) is still soul bond upon arrival, then they are made the true contractor and all work will be conducted with them."

"In other words," the mohawked one grinned, "you should have went for the heart." He taps at his chest.

"Or the neck." The other devil offers.

"Or that vein in they're thigh."

"The sephenous, Johnny."

"Yeah, that."

"No, no!" Cole grabs at his hair as Bess looks like she's about to start crying. You want to laugh. They deserve the despair. They deserve the horror in their mistake. They were going to kill you!

"That means," the devils lean back to look at you. "You're our contractor. You get two requests at the price of one, human. I suggest one of those requests includes healing you." He flicks the ashes of his cigar on your leg. You don't even have to think of what you want most right now.

"I want you to untie me." You roll on your side. They wait for the rest. Cole and Bess look like they're going to shit themselves from the pale faced looks of terror they give you. Your eyes narrow. "And a hammer. A old fashioned iron and wood handled hammer."

Another beat of silence before the infernals bend over in laughter. The room shacks, sulfuric smoke pouring from their mouths to funk up the room. Cole tries to cox Bess to her feet while they're distracted. Their feet can't move though. It's like they're glued in placed and no amount of pulling and tugging could get them loose. Shame.

"Yer a funny one, love. I'll love having your soul for a few eternities." The one in leather floats over you, tilting his head this way and that way to get a good look at you. You settle him with a neutral look. "My name is Johnny. You sure that's what you want? I think you've only got a few minutes left in you."

"Then let's hurry this up a little, huh?"

"Ooh, you heard 'em." The cigared one snickers and snaps his claws. Two contracts appear in front of your face, both written in a language you can hardly comprehend. A pen appeared in front of your mouth. "Sign on the dotted line please."

You take the quill in your mouth, dip it in the blood beneath you.

"Rah 'ere?"

"Mhm."

You lean forward to dot the paper with your sloppy signature, but bizarrely enough, it seems like the powers that be have decided that they haven't made enough appearances. The floor trembles, and you worry about your poor infrastructure for a fraction of a second, when a set of gold doors spawn right behind you. You roll back onto your back to intake everything. You swear you're hallucinating when a pair of white winged angels step out, the clouded blue of heaven at their back.

"Hello?" You greet stupidly. You must be losing your mind, right? What the fuck is happening.

"Do not sign a thing." The bronzen angel instructs. "Human, we are here as messengers. God sees great things for you in your ascension. Please do not squander that to these demons." He shoots a sharp look at the demonic pair. The angel's counterpart wears a white cloak, obscuring all but his glowing golden eyes. You half expect him to sing "Be not afraid." despite you actively shitting bricks.

Oddly enough, their appearence seems to have some sort of healing property. Your lethargy starts to clear and the blade in your gut starts to get pushed out. Nothing hurts anymore.

"Oh, so we've got a big soul on our hands here, huh?" Johnny smirks. "Price, what's the plan?"

Price the devil throws his cigar to the ground and crushes it.

"Do what we do best. Bargain."

"Don't play with us, Price." The shrouded angel grunts. He's got a mind piercing voice that's got your head ringing, and you swear it echoes despite the room being well furnished. "We can provide them with just as much, if not more, at no cost of their soul." Those gold orbs land on you. "All we ask for is your faith."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You tug at your bonds with renewed vigor. The angels wince at the mention of their Lord, but only watch as you force yourself upright. "I could not give a rat's ass who gets what! How about this? First one to get me free and a hammer in hand gets my loyalty."

There's two resounding snaps from either side of you. The ropes disappear, a hammer is in your left and right hand. You don't think deeper on what that implies. You finally stand, dropping the hammer in your nondominant hand, and march over to the two people you thought you could trust. They kneel now, seemingly ready to beg for their souls.

"Come on, don't look scared now." You drop your hands on your hips. "What happened to you finishing the job?"

"I didn't want-"

"Say it with your chest." You poke his breast plate with the iron hammer head.

"I didn't want it to come to this!" Cole yells. The divine audience doesn't say anything about it. They watch you curiously as you bounce the hammer in hand. Your soul is visible to them. What should be a glowing ball of light is a red and white morning star, all sharp edges and pulsing like a heart. Your soul will certainly not end up with the others, that much is true.

"I just... I couldn't keep up with you! Your life style, the way you act, your job. I never left good enough. Bess expressed the same thing and we just... clicked. We would have just left, but we could have never lived without struggling, so we just..." He swallows. You can't look at him anymore, hands clenching at what he says next. "The book called for someone we cared for."

''That supposed to make me feel better?" You tilt your head. Cole winces, eyes falling on your feet. You look to Bess. "Thought you were better than this. You were going to kill me. Because what, I was happy? I loved both of you, you could have just talked to me."

"We're sorry! What more do you want?" Bess sobs. You straighten up, bouncing the hammer on your hip, acting like you next action is something to deliberate. You already know what they deserve, and a flash of sadness bubbles in your chest, but it quickly passes as a hot, searing emotion burns a hole into what little hesitation you had left.

"Reckon I want your souls after all the shit you've caused." You grin before swinging the hammer back and caving in Cole's chest.

"Fuck..." is all you can say after everything is done. Cole and Bess lay in a bloody heep, all recognizable features destroyed and crushed. You pant, hands trembling and nothing but white noise and static crunching around in your head. You just killed your best friend and boyfriend. For some reason, you've never felt so light.

Someone's whistle gets followed by a clap.

"Impressive. Done that before?" Johnny chuckles. He floats closer, hand running down your back as he moves past and pokes around the pulped organs. "Shite, did them right in. Can't tell which is which."

"I've never-" you start to answer, but hands are clapped onto your shoulders, shocking you into silence.

"Well, that was a good place to start, lad. Your swings were a bit sloppy, but we can fix that." Price squeezes at your trapezius, massaging the stiffness out of them. A throat clears, and Price sighs like he forgot there was other company.

"We aren't finished. The human is our ward now, Price." The uncloaked angel snaps his finger, pulling you from Price and making you spawn between the two angels. The bronzen angel smiles down at you with teeth so white you could damn near see your reflection.

"There you are. It's nicer to have you close. My friend here is Simon and I'm-"

"Come on, Kyle, you know he's ours!" Johnny spits, his wings flaring out. "We gave him the hammer first, so piss off."

"Uh...huh." Kyle's smile falls. "I think you're a bit mistaken. Look, after executing the human's request, I have his name here." A stone slab appears in front of your face. It's smells like sunshine and warm grass. What the fuck. "His pledge to the Lord has been set and his soul already has a place next to Their throne."

"Right, right, like we don't have documentation neither." Johnny huffs. The stone disappears as a scroll appears next to the devil. The smell of sulfur and smoke wafts over to you. "His name is right there, pretty boy. Getting yer fuckin' lookers on."

Kyle ignores the rude tone and does pull out a pair of reading glasses to go over the scroll. You stand there in the silence, a little too scared to speak up. What could you do anyway? In a blind anger, you didn't really have the mind to think any of this out. Angels and devils are fighting over you because you'd stupid ass was too blood hungry to think past murder. All that can be done is for them to figure this out amongst themselves, and for you to wait for the sentencing. Heaven, or Hell?

"...Simon." Kyle slowly pulls his glasses off. "This is legit. His soul is promised to all of us."

You glance up at Simon, the scary motherfucker. He blinks. Once. Twice. Then pinches the bridge of his nose with a hagard sigh.

"Shit."

That's not good.

Johnny laughs, Price grinning like a dog with a bone. Kyle marches over to you, patting your shoulders with an awkward smile. His demeanor reminds you of the way your mom acted when she said she was going to divorce your dad. And all you can think is "Not this again." Are you going to be spending your afterlife going between heaven and hell forever? Does God get weekends because Their day is Sunday or whatever?

"We need to go and talk this over with some superiors. We'll clean this up," Kyle snaps and the gore is gone, so is the ritual circle and candles. "And we'll get back to you in the morning." He places a feather light kiss on your forehead, and suddenly you're squeaky clean and in the softest set of pajamas you've ever worn. "Stay safe while we're gone and don't allow these two to influence you. Get some rest."

"Blah, blah, blah," Johnny mocks from the sidelines. Price tilts his head, and there's nothing but amusement behind those eyes. Yeah, this is exactly like your parents divorce.

"O-okay? I mean, I'll try." You shrug.

Simon nods. "That's all you can do." He steps back into the golden doorway and Kyle falls in stride. You make some distance, and with a final wave from a white toothed angel, the doors shut with a slam that shakes the house's foundation.

"Just you and us now, stud."

You turn with a comedic slowness to the devils. Price chuffs and floats forward. His assess you, takes you in in all your fluffy white pajama glory, and it seems he finds what he wants when he nods.

"Guess we've got to talk with top brass to see what's going on ourselves. Pity we couldn't stick around longer." The devil's eyes never meet yours, staying glued to various parts of your face. They hop from ears, to your eyebrows, down to your lips. Christ on a bike, is it getting hot in here? His blue, glowing cerulean eyes appear to flash with something.

"Shite, yer right." Johnny groans. "I hate going down there."

"Suck it up, love. You know how I feel about sharing." Price drops his interest in you like an old toy and takes Johnny close by his waist. You watch with a lead poisoned stare as their noses touch intimately, words you can't hear being exchanged. It's kinda of awkward to just stand there and watch but your brain isn't really functioning well enough to tell you to stop.

"Hey, stud." You blink, refocusing on the pair. Johnny seems to have climbed his partner, his legs on his waist and arms around his neck. Price makes busy opening a portal to hell in your livingroom with one hand, supporting Johnny under his ass with the other. "Sit pretty, yeah? 'll be back before those two arseholes, promise."

"Right... yeah." You nod. "Uh, be safe?"

"Be safe, he says." Price mutters. "Cute." Johnny waves until Price steps through the infernal hole and falls from view. The portal closes right behind him so you'd have no hopes of seeing anything but the red hue of smog and dust.

And here you are. A little dazed, a little sad, probably holding back a break down from the last hour of events. But you're alive and you're healed. There's no blood to clean, you're in comfortable pajamas. Could probably sleep right now if your brain would stop for a minute, but it doesn't look like that's in the plans.

So you look for something to do. Cole and Bess and moved around all your furniture to make the summoning circle. Guess you can start there, right?

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 2: Paper Pals

Twenty minutes to spare babyyy, maybe I'll keep getting quicker as the days go on lol, anywho, please enjoy!

Word count: 474

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

"Do it again," You hear several clicks, "If you don't mind, friend."

You don't need to glance up to tell the Daycare Attendant is staring at you. Watching. Waiting. 

Not patiently, mind you. Rather, you think he's been anything but this entire time. 

You don't even flinch at the sound of the paper shredder-where did he even get his hands on that?-instead sighing as you grab another plate to start on another paper pal. 

"You know," You say, waving the paint brush in your hand, "If you wanted perfection, you're not looking in the right place for it. I'm a-uh, I'm uh," Why can't you think of what your job is? You shake your head, "Well I'm just a staff member, not an artist."

The bot scoffs, "Obviously not, though perhaps if you tried a little harder, you would be!"

"I just don't see the point in all this, if I'm being honest."

You didn't, you saw there being no actual gain to sitting here amusing the Daycare attendant by making art for it to tear up for, how long had it been now? Hours maybe? You're not, you're not entirely sure. 

An offended gasp interrupts your train of thought, "Well that's just rude! I'll have you know I spent quite a bit of time on this, and now you're just ruining the fun."

"So is saying my paper pals are garbage," You paint another the left ear red, cleaning the brush to paint the opposite blue, "I mean really, it's a couple of paper plates and maybe some googly eyes. Sure it's not not art, but I don't think getting hung up in a museum anytime soon either, so who cares?"

You jump when a yellow hand lands on the desk in front of you, then the other. Suddenly, you find yourself eye to eye with the animatronic, his face plate spins once as he stares you dead on. 

"Friend. I would appreciate if you refrain from using such language and instead focus on your task."

You lean back slightly, frowning, "Or what? You'll make me make friendship bracelets instead?"

His faceplate ticks to one side, eyes narrowing just slightly, "I might."

That shouldn't feel like as much of a threat as it does. You shouldn't feel as unnerved as you do. Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be doing actual work or something? This is all so, strange, and weird. And nothing is making any sense-

"Alright," You swallow, your sense of self-preservation kicking in, "Keep my comments to myself. Got it."

The Attendant stares at you for another few moments, unmoving. Waiting. For what?

Then, "Wonderful!" He stands straight again, clapping his hands together, "Let's take it from the top!"

You grumble, fumbling for a paper hat in the organized clutter of the desk. 

This job is so frickin' weird.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Wanted to say thank you to @bluerasbunny for this promptober list!! Meant to tag you yesterday and forgot >_< Anywho, it's super fun so far and I'm only on day 2 haha

you can find the other prompts I've made stuff for here

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet p.3

pairing: ellie williams x fem! reader (ur a girly girl in this one!!) (she/her pronouns)

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: (PLEASE READ!) explicit language, violence, description of a medical procedure sans anesthesia, recreational drug use (idk how else to put it ellie gets absolutely zonked in the beginning), reader overthinks asf and is a little neurotic but that's why we love her x

a/n: hey guys! thank you so much for the wait! it's been genuinely insane how sweet and incredible all of you are. i've never felt so appreciated for my writing!! also, some notes: this chapter is heavily inspired by my last relationship. sorry if it's not as immersive bc of it! and also i don't have ANY medical knowledge so...cast a blind eye when u get to that scene

part 1

part 2

tags: @prettyplant0 @666findgod​ @sawaagyapong​ @rystarkov​ @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma

wc: 6.6k

enjoy x

“One more time.”

You gave Ellie a withering look from where you were sitting at the end of her bed.

“Please,” she said, drawing out the s. “Just once more. I promise.” 

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes—a habit of hers that you were quickly picking up—and took in a deep breath. “Fuck.” 

Ellie lost it, peals of laughter bouncing off the walls. “Another one. Say something else.”

“I don’t understand why you think this is so funny,” you said.

“You say it so weird.”

“I enunciate,” you clarified. “I don’t ‘sound weird’. It’s called pronouncing every letter in the word and not having a lazy mouth.” 

“Please,” she gasped. “At least say bitch. You haven’t said that one yet.”

You looked her dead in the eye. “Bitch.”

If you weren’t already certain that Ellie was high out of her mind by the smell of her room and the general haze in the air, the way she howled with laughter and fell back on her bed would’ve made you entirely positive.

This was new. You’d begun to hang out with her in her room after dinner—that was normal—but when she’d knocked on your door smelling heavily of weed once you’d said goodnight to Joel, you were nothing less than shocked. Of course, she had none left for you. Which was probably good, because only a sober mind could navigate a night sitting on Ellie’s bed without doing something really, really stupid. 

“I can’t believe you call me weird,” you said, tucking your feet under her and giving her a pointed look. 

“You’re so lucky you didn’t grow up where I did,” Ellie said, wiping a tear away from her cheek as she tried (unsuccessfully) to rein in her giggles. “You would’ve been eaten alive, good lord.”

“What were you like as a kid?” you asked, resting your chin on your knees. 

She considered for a moment, growing more somber. “Um…I don’t know if you would’ve liked me very much.”

“What do you mean? Of course I would’ve liked you.” 

“No,” she said, swiping at her face so she pushed a strand of hair away. “I don’t think you would have.”

“Why not?”

“I was…” She paused, picking at her cuticles. “Back then I didn’t have anyone. I was an orphan, you know. My parents were never in the picture, so I was the only one I could count on.  I was really rough around the edges and could be nasty. But I probably would’ve ignored you like I did everyone else. “

“Everyone? You didn’t have anyone? No friends at all?”

Ellie blinked, and her gaze remained fixed on her hands. “Basically, yeah. I mean, there was one girl, but that’s…I don’t want to talk about that right now, actually.” 

“That’s okay,” you said, reaching forward to touch her knee. She flinched at the contact but didn’t brush you away. The image of a young, scared Ellie living somewhere alone made your chest ache. “You don’t have to tell me.” 

“What were you like?” she asked, tilting her head and meeting your eyes. 

“Hmmm…” Mirth crept into your tone. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Ellie echoed, her eyes cloudy as she thought. Then a small smirk formed on her face. “Oh god, were you one of those spoiled brats? Were you a mean girl?” 

“God, no,” you said, raising your eyebrows. “Not mean.”

“Then what?”

You paused. “I was really shy, I guess. And quiet, too. I didn’t do much but read for a good 10 years of my life. I used to have awful pronunciation because I would spend more time reading than talking to anyone. But I think I would’ve liked you.”

Ellie shook her head.

“Yes,” you said. “Maybe I would’ve been a little scared of you. I probably would’ve never had the courage to talk to you. But I would’ve liked you, I think.”

“Scared of me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? I was a kid.”

“I was mostly going off of how I felt when I actually first met you,” you said, shrugging. 

She gasped theatrically. “You’re scared of me?”

“No!” you said, smacking her knee. “That’s not what I mean. You’re just really intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” She looked at you incredulously. 

“You’re so tough,” you explained, feeling heat grow in your cheeks. “You seem just—I don’t know, just so capable. There’s nothing you’re too afraid to face, nothing you’re too afraid to say.”

“That’s not true,” she said lightly. 

“Well, of course I’m sure there are things that you’re afraid of,” you amended. “But you hide it so well. You just seem so…fearless.”

“Hm,” Ellie said, letting her head rest against the headboard. “I think you would’ve made me a nervous wreck. If we’d met when we were kids, I mean.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you before. You’re just so untouched.” She winced. “God, no. That sounds gross. I just mean…I dunno. I wouldn’t have known how to act around you. You haven’t had to harden up like everyone else I know.”

“Are you saying I should develop trust issues or something?” you asked, your voice a teasing lilt.

“You know,” she said, nodding seriously, “That is part of it. It was really off-putting how quickly you trusted me. But I guess that’s just a product of where you grew up.” 

“Yeah,” you said softly. “I wonder how I would’ve turned out if I’d grown up like you.”

“Can I be honest?” Ellie asked. 

“Sure.”

“I don’t think you’d still be here if you were me,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “No offense. You just have zero survival skills. I swear that shit has to be genetic. I’ve never met someone more averse to violence in my life.”

You sighed, pressed your hands deep into Ellie’s comforter as a thought hit you. “I think if you’d been born in my position, you would’ve been greater than anything either of us could ever dream of. Much greater than me.”

“Definitely not,” said Ellie. “There’s no fucking way I’m studying the way you apparently do. I honestly think I’d take being an orphan over the study schedule I saw in your bag.” 

She was of course referencing the time table you’d roughly sketched up the morning before you’d ended up in Jackson. It was blocked to the minute, citing the study content and the location of said study session. She’d been beyond horrified to see it. 

You laughed, nudging her socked food with yours. 

“Is there music? In Terranova?”

“Oh,” you said, startled at the abrupt change of subject. “Uh, yeah. Of course. I listened to it all the time.” 

“I used to have a Walkman,” she said, leaning back as she reminisced. She was lying flat on her back now. “It ended up breaking a while ago, but it was like my child.” 

“Have you ever seen a movie before?” you asked, sitting up rigid straight as the thought occurred to you.

“Duh,” she said, giving you a weird look. “Do you think I live under a rock?”

“How many?”

“Hm.” Ellie began counting, ending on her second hand. “I think 6?”

“You’ve seen a total of 6 movies in your life?” 

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to see more?”

She shrugged. “I mean, I guess. It’s just tough to find CDs that are still functional after so long.”

“Hold that thought,” you said, holding a finger in her direction as you stood up.

“Hey!” she called as you bolted out the door. “Where are you going?”

You came bounding back to her room in a matter of seconds, your laptop in your hands. 

“What the fuck?” she said. “Isn’t that your homework thing?”

“Yes,” you said, feeling around for an outlet, “But I also have a ridiculous amount of movies downloaded on this. Our dorm wi-fi is shit and I have way too much storage on this thing, so I just download, like, every movie I’ve ever wanted to watch.”

“Your dorm what?”

You waved your hand. The last thing you wanted to do was explain to her how the 802.11 standard allowed wireless connections a few years after the outbreak. “Not important. Here, come look at this.”

Your laptop roared to light with the help of your charging cord. Quickly, you typed your password in and opened your downloads. Ellie hovered over your shoulder, squinting at the screen with confusion. 

“Here,” you said, opening up the album that had everything you had seen for your entire university career and passing the laptop to Ellie. “Use the touchpad—there, yeah—to navigate. Press to click. These are all movie files that I’ve seen. We can watch them on my laptop. Some of them were filmed in Terranova, too, so they’re post-apocalypse.”

She perused the selection you had for quite some time, the glow of the screen lighting up her face against the dim room. “Okay. This one.”

And thus began a tradition. Each night after you’d finished showering and Joel retired to his room, Ellie would come knock on your door and ask if you wanted to come over. You’d talk for a while, then open your laptop and pick something out to watch. Ellie was never high after the first time, which was unsurprising considering that there definitely wasn’t a way to get any in Jackson. Where she found any the first time was still a mystery to you. 

~

A week or so after your first patrol with Ellie, Joel had taken it upon himself to teach you how to shoot. You were surprisingly not as bad as you’d expected, but the rebound was tough to get used to, and you were still hung up over the whole “killing living things” part. 

Your first patrol—first real one—came quickly, and before you knew it, Ellie was handing you the same gun you’d dropped the first time with a suspicious look. 

“Don’t kill one of us with that thing,” she warned. “Be smart, okay?”

“Sure thing, boss,” you said to her, mock saluting as best you could while you were leading Japan to the mounting block.

She rolled her eyes. “Please act normal or I’ll make you carry around that glorified pocket knife instead again.” 

The patrol began as usual, Ellie leading you down the same path you went last time. It was a beautiful day out, with the early spring sun filtering through the evergreen trees that populated the woods and birdsong filling the air. 

Though conversations with Ellie were getting easier (given that it actually seemed like she wanted to talk to you now), you were still starstruck. Nothing that you did and nothing that you thought could get you to stop seeing her the way you did. You were routinely distracted by everything about her. It was a wonder that you could even function as a normal person around her, much less handle a weapon and a horse. 

You two had nearly made the full rotation when your surroundings exploded in action. 

“Fuck,” Ellie hissed as someone behind you two fired a shot that narrowly missed Shimmer. 

You whipped around, gun in hand, to see two men—two normal men who weren’t infected. One held a bow, the other a gun. 

The one who had fired the first shot never even stood a chance. He was down on the ground seconds after you’d seen him, Ellie’s aim taking him out before you could even ready your gun. 

The second man notched an arrow and managed to draw it back and release into the air right as Ellie’s bullet struck him, sending him falling back. 

“I don’t think there’s any more,” said Ellie, slightly breathless as she scanned the forest. “Sometimes outsiders pull this shit—try to kill us for our supplies. I’ve never seen them this close to the wall, though. I’ll have to tell Maria and Tommy.”

Normally, you would’ve felt up to making some sort of sarcastic comment about how that was a really unconcerning thing for her to tell you and that you actually felt so much more comfortable going on patrol knowing that there were also just run-of-the-mill people trying to kill you, but a twinge in your lower body distracted you. 

Slowly, nervously, you looked down. Air immediately left your lungs. 

“At least we’re done,” Ellie was saying, wiping her hands off on her thighs and slinging the gun over her shoulder. “What a crazy end for your first actual patrol, huh?”

When you didn’t answer, she turned to you and saw the arrow sticking out of your side, 

“Shit,” said Ellie, jumping off Shimmer and reaching you in seconds. “Shit, shit, shit. Oh god.” 

“Am I going to die?” you asked, staring starstruck at the blood escaping the outline of the arrowhead. You couldn’t feel anything anymore. Were you in shock?

“No,” said Ellie firmly. “Absolutely not. Do you need help getting off?”

Before you could answer, she was already helping you down, carefully avoiding the protruding arrow. 

“Listen,” she said, back to being her unwavering self, “We’re right by the wall. I’m going to help you walk in, and then I’ll grab some supplies, okay? Don’t try to pull the arrow out. You hear me? Don’t.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. She helped you walk the few steps to be carefully concealed by the wall, then grabbed the two horses and darted past you, making a break for Maria and Tommy’s cabin. 

In a haze of confusion, you could see Maria running out, holding a box out to Ellie in exchange for the reins of the horses. Ellie said something that made Maria point towards you. She nodded, then ran back to you.

By the time that she’d reached you, the shock had begun to wear off, replaced by the stinging pain from the object that had impaled you. It was worse than anything you’d ever felt before in your life, and it took all you had not to keel over. 

“Hey,” she said, reaching out to grab your face so you had to look at her. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve done this before, okay? I’m, like, the master. It’s going to be alright.” 

“Done what before?” you managed to grind out. 

Ellie let go of your face to dig through the box Maria had given her, producing a needle, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and what looked like a spool of thin thread. 

Horror slowly trickled through you as you realized what was about to happen. 

“It doesn’t look all that deep,” Ellie was saying as she examined the arrow. “So I don’t think it’s hit anything. It’s just going to be a nasty hole. I’m going to pull it out now, okay?”

You let out a strangled scream as she grasped the arrow’s end and yanked it out without warning.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Ellie repeated. She threw the arrow over her shoulder and knelt so she was hovering over you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you gasped. You were most certainly not. You couldn’t quite get your eyes to focus, and your heart was beating out of your chest. 

“Alright,” she said firmly, grasping your shoulders and pulling you up so you were slumped against the wall. “Sit up straight, alright? Also, this is going to hurt.” 

At first there were just snipping sounds as she cut part of your shirt away—then something cool and wet pressed to your wound. You cried out again as a fresh white hot pain bloomed in your middle. 

“I know, I know.” Ellie’s voice was consoling as she reached up to brush away the sweaty strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “Just a few more seconds.” 

“Fuck—off—” you gritted out from your teeth. 

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Just this once.” 

She released the alcohol-saturated cotton pad, throwing it aside and fussing with the thread and needle until she was satisfied. 

By the time her fingers were ghosting over your abdomen again, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the puncture wound and the needle she was wielding. 

“Don’t look,” said Ellie. “Pick something else. You don’t need to watch.” 

“I hate needles,” you whispered, choosing the air over her shoulder to be your focal point. 

There was a prodding at the top of your wound, and you hissed. 

“I can’t say I’m a fan myself.” 

Something pierced through your skin, and your midriff exploded in pain. 

The edges of your sight went fuzzy, stars forming in the corners of your vision. Someone that sounded suspiciously like you cried out. Your cheek rammed up against something solid and warm. 

Once the initial sting had faded, you realized that you’d slumped into Ellie, your face buried into her neck. She didn’t make any move to push you off, instead just taking one hand to brush up and down your arm with a feather light touch. 

“You're fine," she said firmly. "Everything's going to be fine."

Your fingers curled around the hem of her shirt as the needle exited through the other end of your wound, pulling another whine from your throat. It was easier to not feel like you were about to pass out when you were crushed into Ellie, clinging onto her and just focusing on the way she felt against you. 

“Hang on, I'm almost there,” she muttered a few stitches later. You’d quieted down, only letting out the occasional gasp as she pulled the thread through. “You're doing so well. Just one more.”

Now that you were more conscious, you had no idea how she was managing to stitch your side while you were nearly on her lap, but she continued to weave her needle through your skin, pulling it taut. 

“And done,” said Ellie. You felt her take another cotton square to swipe against your skin. 

You laid against her for a few more moments, panting as the shock slowly began to fade. She shifted, and for a moment you were sure that she was going to shove you away, but then the hand she’d lifted hesitantly rested on your head, her fingers parting to card through your hair. 

“How did you learn how to do that?” you asked, your voice muffled from where you were pressed against her. 

“Trial and error.” 

Her joke was enough for you to finally let go, sitting back against the wall. Her hand slithered out of your hair, resting back in her lap. 

“Shut up,” you said. “That’s awful.” 

Ellie shrugged. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, feeling the bumpiness of the stony wall press into your back. “I have a really low pain tolerance.”

“So I’ve noticed,” said Ellie, the side of her mouth quirking. 

“I’ve never been hurt before,” you heard yourself saying. “Like, beyond the occasional splinter or bee sting or accidental scrape or ankle sprain. It’s just not something that happens.” 

“Must be nice.”  

You smiled sadly. “Yeah. It’s not nice being weak, though.” 

Ellie looked away from you then, silent as she packed up the first-aid kit. Then: “I don’t think that’s true.” 

She’d said it lightly, like it was meant to be an offhand comment, a throwaway addition that wouldn’t be remembered by either of you. But the sentiment still struck you, twisting your heart.

You were less capable because your survival had never required anything more. You were weak because you could be. 

Her voice from the night she’d been high floated back to you. You haven't had to harden up like everyone else I know. 

Out here, weakness was a luxury few could afford. 

“Not so untouched anymore, huh?” you said, since you didn’t know how else to respond.

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” quipped Ellie. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t lose sleep over it. I still consider needing to be held to get 4 stitches as being soft. You haven’t changed a bit. No offense.” 

Your cheeks burned bright red. “I—”

“I’m teasing,” she said before you could defend yourself. “Arrow wounds suck. I get it.” 

“Right.” You turned away, keeping your gaze fixed firmly on the ground beside you. With feeling more yourself came the inevitable shame at what you’d just done. What had you been thinking, touching her like that? Grabbing onto her like that?

This was going to haunt you for the rest of your life. 

“Don’t make that face,” said Ellie. “I’m sorry for saying that. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It really is fine.” 

It was not fine. It would never be fine. You wanted the thugs to come back to life and finish you off, and then have the earth open up and swallow you for good measure. 

Ellie probably thought of you as an overgrown child. You doubted that there was ever a point where she could see you as anything equal. If she ever knew how often she appeared in your imagination, she’d probably be disgusted.

She called you pretty a contrarian voice in your head reminded you. Don't you remember?

But maybe she hadn’t meant it. She hadn’t said it explicitly: “Y/N, I think you’re pretty.” She just hadn’t argued when you’d pointed it out. Maybe because she was being nice, or maybe because she was actually being sarcastic. 

“You were really brave, okay?” said Ellie. “Your first armed confrontation and you did well.”

“I didn’t shoot anyone.”

“It could have gone worse,” said Ellie. “You could’ve accidentally shot me. Or died. And neither of those things happened, so that’s successful in my book.” 

“That’s very glass half-full of you.”

“That’s me. Ever the optimist.” 

You snorted.

~

That night, Ellie knocked on your door and asked you if you were up for another movie. You found yourself sitting on her comforter, plugging in your computer and booting it up minutes later.

Physically speaking, it had always been a little awkward to fit two people on her twin bed if they weren’t right next to each other, given that your laptop screen was a very unimpressive size. When you’d first started watching with her, Ellie would rest against the headboard, her legs stretched out in front of you while you would sit with your legs crossed, positioned sideways so you weren’t accidentally pushing her legs off. 

But after the day you had had, your back was sore and your whole body ached. Sitting on something soft without any back support as you angled yourself to look at the screen was quickly proving unsustainable. 

“Pause,” said Ellie about ten minutes in. You’d been watching an older sci-fi flick—Ellie’s choice. 

You complied, leaning forward and pressing the spacebar. “What’s up?”

“Are you even comfortable sitting like that?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Liar,” accused Ellie, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t think I don’t see you ‘discreetly’ cracking your back every 2 minutes. It’s ruining the movie.” 

“Sorry,” you said, shaking your head and smiling in exasperation. “It’s from all the years I spent hunched over a textbook.” 

“You know, you can sit up here,” she said, patting the space beside her. “I don’t bite.”

“Jury’s still out on that,” you said, though by the time Ellie let out a laugh you were already unfolding your legs and moving so you were next to her. 

She leaned forward, grabbing the bottom half of the laptop and lifting it. “Hey, do you want a blanket?”

“Sure.” 

Ellie’s other hand grabbed the edge of her comforter and held it up. 

Hesitantly, you slid your legs under and watched as Ellie did the same, awkwardly holding the laptop in the air before you were both settled enough to rest it on your covered right thigh and her left.  “Better?”

When you nodded, she reached her tattooed arm out and pressed play. The audio picked back up, but you couldn’t for the life of you focus on the movie.

When Ellie had asked if you’d wanted a blanket, you were expecting her to toss the throw blanket that would really only fit one person at you, not invite you to get under the blankets with her. That was significantly more intimate.

You two were sitting close enough that your sides were touching, from shoulder to thigh. You could feel her chest lift with each breath, feel the heat coming off of her.

After a while, Ellie properly laid down, taking the laptop and hoisting it up so it rested on her lower abdomen as she settled into her pillow.

You gulped, your eyes flickering between her face and the screen. Ellie’s gaze was fixed intently on the screen, her eyes half lidded with exhaustion.

You could be tired too. You weren’t, of course—your heart was racing a thousand miles an hour. But she didn’t know that. It was normal to lay down next to her, right? You’d done that with Irena more times than you could count, and it was never weird. Yeah, you could do that. 

Also, if you were totally horizontal, you would stop getting distracted by the sliver of her skin that her crooked shirt showed of her chest. 

In a moment of blind courage, you scooted down so your head was lying right next to Ellie’s. She didn’t seem to react, just extending her hand from under the covers to steady the laptop as it wobbled from the movement. 

Her sheets smelled like the soap that you used to wash your hair—a cottony freshness that had the slightest hint of lavender. 

“Are you going to fall asleep on me?” asked Ellie after a while, her voice nothing more than a whisper. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” you responded, equally quiet. Then, because you hadn’t made enough rash decisions for the night, you angled your head so it rested in the space right above her shoulder. 

She inhaled sharply but didn’t move. On her next exhale a piece of her auburn hair tickled your forehead. 

“How’re your stitches?” she asked suddenly, like she'd just remembered.

“They’re okay. I think. As stitches go.”

“After this is over, I’ll check on them,” she said. “Don’t let me forget, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, suddenly feeling shy. It was one thing for her to cut off your shirt and see your skin when she was trying to save your life while you were mentally gone. It was another thing altogether to pull up your shirt without adrenaline coursing through you.

You didn’t pay any attention to the rest of the movie, instead hyperfocused on the rhythm of Ellie’s breathing and the fact that if you moved just a little your chin would be on her shoulder. 

Her mention of the stitches wasn’t helping at all, either. Now all you could think about was the embarrassing way you’d basically tried to crawl under her skin, burying your face into her and clutching at her clothes like you were a child.

A part of you was disappointed that you hadn’t been more lucid at the time. If you had, you would’ve been able to clearly remember the softness of her skin against yours. You would’ve been able to enjoy it for what it was—the only time you’d be able to touch her like that.

Because you couldn’t go around just grabbing onto her shirt and getting into her lap. That was a one-off, the only time that the rules were waived. You couldn’t touch her like that now, now that you didn’t have any excuse. It wasn’t allowed.

But sometimes you wanted to so badly that it hurt. 

The movie ended abruptly, wrenching you out of your thoughts. 

“Hey,” whispered Ellie. “Sit up so I can see.”

Reluctantly, you pressed yourself up from your back and began rolling up the hem of your shirt. Ellie twisted to face backwards, her thin top riding up and showing part of her back as she reached for the lamp.

Once golden light returned to the room, Ellie turned back and bumped your hands away. She bent over, tilting her head so that she was looking at the stitches straight on.

They didn’t look bad, you had to admit. Though you wouldn’t consider the actual experience of getting the stitches a 5-star experience, Ellie had clearly known what she was doing. The surrounding flesh didn’t look angry or irritated, and she’d pulled the stitches just tight enough without it puckering. 

She prodded at the side, then gave a satisfied nod. “Looks good. What did I tell you? I’m really good at this sort of stuff.”

“I think you would’ve made a really good doctor,” you said once she’d sat up straight again. “Under different circumstances.”

“Is this you telling me that you don’t think I’m a good doctor now?” she teased. 

“Your bedside manner could use some work,” you offered.

Ellie laughed then, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, yeah. You lived. You'll get over it.” 

“Did you go to school?” you found yourself asking, hung up on the thought of Ellie as a potential medical student. If she’d been in one of your intro biology classes, you never would’ve been able to pay attention. That was a fantasy you could shelve away for later. 

“Sort of,” said Ellie, looking down at her arms. “I went to a military prep school run by FEDRA. I didn’t graduate though—obviously. I was long gone by then.” 

“Right,” you said, remembering that she’d mentioned that she’d been 14 when she’d left Boston. “And what was it like?” 

She paused, opening her mouth before closing it. “It was—unkind. Joel's told me about schools before the outbreak. It was nothing like that. There were some normal classes, but most of it was meant to prepare us to be soldiers.” 

“Is that where you learned how to do sutures?” 

“Among other things.”

Terranova had no military academies, given that there was hardly any military presence. The founder of Terranova had bodyguards and there was a police force that controlled the borders, but it was nothing like Ellie described. With invisible borders and a social order that valued peace and tranquility over all else, there was no real danger posed to any of the citizens. 

But from what you had learned from movies and books and comments from older people, you had gathered a very dim picture of what a military academy looked like—harsh, strict, and cruel. 

“I’m sorry you had to grow up like that,” you said. 

“It’s okay.”

“Is there anything you would want to study? If you could?” 

Ellie’s eyes closed. “Yeah. There are a couple things.” 

She did not elaborate. 

~

It didn’t take long for you two to settle back into your routine of meeting in her room each evening and watching one of your downloaded movies. Following the night after you’d gotten your stitches, you wouldn’t even have to ask—Ellie would pull up her comforter and let you slide in next to her without giving you a second glance.

You’d also gotten over the fear of touching her. Now, when you flopped back so your head was on her pillow, you’d adjust until you were nestled into the crook of her neck. She never once reacted to it, remaining perfectly still unless she was adjusting the laptop or messing with the sound. 

Because it was normal, of course. You and Irena would rest your head on each other’s shoulders sometimes. That was something that friends did. 

One night a week or so into April, you and Ellie made a harrowing discovery: there was only one movie left in your collection that you two hadn’t seen together. 

“Damn,” said Ellie, furrowing her brow. “And there’s no way to get more on here?”

“I’m afraid not,” you said, frowning. “To download more or stream one, I’d need either an Ethernet cable or a wi-fi connection. Neither of which function out here anymore without cell towers and maintained cables.” 

“Right,” said Ellie, though her face told you that she didn’t understand a word that had come out of your mouth. “So—this is it?”

“Yeah.” Your finger hovered over the play button. “Savor it, I guess.” 

When you settled back and into her side, the heavy weight of dread settled into your stomach. Now that you’d finished showing her your entire collection, it’s not like she’d have a reason to invite you over every night. And there was especially no reason for you two to lie so closely together unless you were both trying to watch something on a small screen.

Once again, your excuse to touch her was gone.

You pressed closer to her as your mind raced. There was no way that Ellie didn’t see what you were doing as platonic, right? Was it possible that she was creeped out by how touchy you were but just tolerated it to be nice? 

Maybe. You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes fixed on the screen. Ellie didn’t see you like…like that. She spoke to you like you were an obligation, a burden. Because you always had been. You’d been a responsibility thrust on her by a father figure who felt like he was indebted to you from that stupid bag of coffee you were lucky enough to bring. 

Oh, god. Had Joel told her to befriend you? Had he asked for Ellie to pretend like she enjoyed spending time with you and to put up with your privileged, soft-hearted nonsense? 

The knowledge that you were spiraling wasn’t enough to stop you. You did the best that you could—tried to remind yourself that it’d been a while since she’d looked disgusted with you, recall that she was outspoken enough to tell you to fuck off if you did something she didn’t like—but it was to no avail.

Ellie reached forward and hit pause on the movie, thrusting you both into silence. 

“Is everything okay?” she asked after a moment. 

“Yeah, why?” 

“I can feel your heart going, like, crazy fast.” 

You froze. “Oh. Uh, yeah. I was just thinking.” 

Ellie pushed the laptop off of her, sitting up to give you an odd look. “About a near death experience or something? You running a marathon up there? That shit’s not normal.” 

You laughed nervously. “It’s really nothing. Just an, uh, suspenseful movie.” 

Which was actually really stupid of you to say, because you were watching some obscure Tarkovsky film that did nothing but pan over burning buildings and pensive men. For the past 5 minutes, there had been nothing on screen but the back of a car driving through traffic with minimal sound. Also, it was in Russian, and the English subtitles made zero sense.

There was a reason why this was the last movie you chose.

“This is the most boring fucking movie I’ve ever watched in my life, so you’re a dirty fucking liar,” said Ellie. Then her face pinched in worry. “Wait. Have you taken a look at your stitches lately?” 

Before you could answer, she was grabbing a flashlight off her nightstand and yanking the comforter off you. She was pulling your shirt up when you finally found your voice.

“Wait!” you said, grabbing the bottom of your shirt and yanking it back in place. “It’s not—I don’t have an infection, okay? There’s nothing wrong with me. I really was just thinking, okay?”

“About what?” She reached back to place her flashlight back on the stand without taking her eyes off you. 

“It’s nothing important.”

“If you say so.” 

She picked the laptop up and placed it back on her thighs, lying back down. You followed suit, but this time you didn’t touch her, opting to keep as much distance as you could so she wouldn’t hear the stuttering of your heart. 

Not even 5 minutes had passed before Ellie sat up to pause the video again.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No. Why?” 

“You’re acting weird,” she accused, but there wasn’t much conviction behind her voice. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that you’re acting weird,” she repeated, shutting your laptop off and moving it to the bottom of her bed, despite the protests that left your lips. 

“I don’t understand,” you said. “I’m just watching the movie. I’m not doing anything. “

“You’re not watching the movie,” she said. “You weren’t even looking at the screen. What’s got you so bothered? Did I do something?” 

“Of course not.” You pulled your legs under you so your legs were crossed and your back was against the wall. “You don’t need to worry. It’s honestly fine. I’m sorry if I’ve done something to imply otherwise.” 

Ellie rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighing. “You stress me out. You can just tell me, you know? No need to be so cagey. I promise I’ve heard worse.” 

“Don’t be so quick to say that.”

“Okay, now you have to tell me,” she said. “I’m never going to know peace again with a hook like that.” 

You were about to open your mouth to tell her that it was stupid and that it didn’t matter, but something stopped you. 

That was the coward’s way out. That’s what you’d always done—hid your feelings and concealed your emotions. That’s how you’d been raised. That’s how you thought everyone was. But now that you’d spent 2 months in Jackson, you’d realized that some people actually just said what they thought. And that, in the grand scheme of things, it was a better system than the Terranovian culture of superficiality.  

Just because the you 2 months ago would have shook her head and changed the subject didn’t mean the you now had to. 

Maybe this you could be different. Maybe, for once, this you could be brave. 

“I really—” You stopped yourself. Saying I really like you didn’t even begin to encompass what you felt for the girl sitting across from you. To distill the sheer magnitude of your feelings down to four words felt criminal. The swell in your chest that never went away whenever you were near her could never and would never be adequately represented in the puny offerings of the Latin alphabet and the English language, and if you were going to do this, you were going to do it right. 

You dared to look up at her for a moment. She was completely still, her green eyes reflecting the dim moonlight from outside. Once you met her gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull it away.

“I’m really sorry that I’m putting you in an uncomfortable position for saying this,” you began (because old habits ran deep, and you would rather die than be impolite), “And I totally understand if you don’t want to talk to me after this. And I’m sorry for not telling you earlier.”

“As much as I’m sure that this is some sort of cultural cornerstone for you, please spare me the 6 foot long disclaimer script,” Ellie drawled.

“Right.” You gulped. “Anyway. As I was saying.”

“Any day now.” 

At that moment, she had never looked more perfect. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark lighting, so the weak moonlight that spilled in from the window above her created a halo around her head. 

“It’s you.” Your voice came out tiny. “You’re all that I can think about, and I don’t know what to do.”

There. It was off your chest.

For a moment, it was as if you’d suspended time, stopping Earth on its axis as you both held your breaths. There was nothing but silence and the occasional wooden creak of the old house’s foundation in the wind. 

Ellie’s face betrayed nothing, save for something in her eyes and the disappearance of the smirk that had been on her lips moments before. 

Then she spoke, her response whispered.

“Come here, then.” 

final a/n: NOW HOLD ON before you show up outside my dorm with pitchforks and torches 🗣️🗣️🗣️ i'm so sorry but this was a necessary evil as this was going to a massive scene without the chapter break. also a disproportionately massive chapter compared to the other ones coming out. i write very quickly and should get the following part out in a timeframe similar to the first 3 parts. thank u for reading ! tell me what you think abt this chapter while you wait x

[writefightandflightclub]

I finished it, I finished it!!!!!!

I have finished my Santiago series, Ride or Die!!!!!!!

All 87,000 words of it!!!!!

Eleven chapters!!!!!!!!

It’s so very close to me being able to queue all the chapters up and post it (I do need some time for the final chapter by chapter edits, and getting everything in the right format for tumblr posts etc. as it’s still in one big Google doc) but I wanted to take a little moment to celebrate right now :D

Wahoooooo!

I have been writing this for LITERAL YEARS, and honestly, I have never persevered for this long with any writing project in my life, nor have I ever written nor attempted anything of this length (potentially besides boring work reports, yuk!) before!

Idk, the series might totally bomb when I post it, maybe no-one will read it, or maybe those who do give it a bash won’t enjoy it at all, and I am trying to prepare myself for the fact that something I have spent YEARS on simply may not be well-received; but regardless, FOR ME, this project and these two characters and their story have a special place in my heart and represent an achievement I’m proud of, and so for that reason, I am very excited to be able to finally say “it’s done” and to (eventually) share it with you!

I’ll keep you updated with when the series will launch. It won’t be before 2024 (because like I said edits and all that, and 87k is a lot to edit LOL) but once it goes live I hope to queue-up a chapter a week for you; which is almost three months of content! *gasp*

The series will be angsty and smutty and angsty smut and more angst (with a friends to lovers / idiots to lovers skew) and it’s very character-driven.

If this sounds like your thing and you would like to keep updated, please lmk in the comments and I can add you to the series tag list (FYI, I will only add you if you’re 18+!).

I do feel really nervous to share it after spending so long on it - especially because I know it’s not “perfect” - but for where I’m at now in terms of my abilities to write multi-chapter stuff (I will say, I never set out for this to be multi-chapter so structurally I was a little screwed from the start - this was only supposed to be a one shot! :P) I gave it the best stab I could, and I know this has been a crucial step towards taking a much better stab at an extended piece of writing next time around, so I regret nothing at alllllll :D

Anyway, thanks for listening :D

[onthewaytosomewhere]

okay since i've been hit or miss on this lately setting his up to post now since i posted fic and it's the obvious choice for sentences lol

so i posted a sequel of sorts to that Alex beats off to thoughts of Shaan at Kensington post-cakegate fic

it was called henry had sex dreams about shaan and drunkenly hit on him and alex just needs to know all about it on the word doc but it's actually titled in my dreams, at oxford, still with those damn pajama pants and it's just smutty smutty smut and has a tumblr post and everything lolz

okay so sunday i got some tags from wonderful people and i was a slacker who had her nose buried in a fic doc so i didn't post anything except for that fic at like the end of the day lolz

so @suseagull04 @firstprincehornyramblings @sophie1973 @run-for-chamo-miles @taste-thewaste

@tailsbeth-writes @porcelainmortal @thighzp thanks so much for the sunday tags i'm now gonna flip them back to you for wed tags cuz that's how i roll

and a big old open tag for anyone else who want to play along and some no-pressure call-outs under the cut along with the smutty words for this week (ur not surprised they're smut lolz)

also - fuck i was ramble-y TL:DR i posted a fic sequel to that one other fic and am flipping some tags from sunday back to them

“Tell me, how much being around him made you think about getting your mouth on his cock for real? Did Oxford Henry want his equerry to fuck his mouth? What other parts did your slutty ass want him to put that cock into?” Alex nips his way across his hip and down to the juncture of his thigh and groin, and Henry bucks up into the contact. “Fuck, Alex, I wanted him to fuck my mouth so bad. It made my dreams filled with nothing but that. For a while, I would dream about it every night, and …” Henry gasps when Alex licks up his cock. Alex’s mouth around the tip of Henry’s cock, tonguing at his slit and foreskin, makes Henry moan—he pulls off and asks, “When did those dreams of Shaan fucking you start? When did your horny lil brain move past getting your mouth around him to getting your ass around that cock?” “Oh, fuck,” Henry whispers with a moan. “I—it was not long, all it took was one night where the person I thought I was hooking up balked at the whole NDA thing, and Shaan had to put me, sloshed off my arse, to bed once again. Let’s just say those threadbare pajama pants you saw him in—well, he’s always seemed to wear them until they fall apart. If I could have made my drunk mind function enough to form the words, I’m sure I would have hit on him that night.”

tag ur it! @adreamareads @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites @blueeyedgrlwrites @catdadacd

@caterpills @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise @dragonflylady77 @duchessdepolignaca03

@emmalostinwonderland @england-would-fall @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @firstsprinces

@forever-fixating @getmehighonmagic @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inell

@inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway @jellibuns @jmagnabo92 @judasofsuburbia

@kiwiana-writes @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @mikibwrites @myheartalivewrites

@ninzied @nocoastposts @orchidscript @piratefals @priincebutt

@softboynick @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow @thedramasummer @cactusdragon517

@theprinceandagcd @thesleepyskipper @thinkof-england @tinyarmedtrex @typicalopposite

@zwiazdziarka @stratocumulusperlucidus @basil-bird @eusuntgratie @bigassbowlingballhead

[turtlecleric]

(re: the tags of your rb of that "sitting here. unkissed." textpost) can you tell us how you think they would react to you saying that? :3

Lucky you nonnie, I couldn't sleep and was able to work on this while I waited for my alarm to go off

For full context:

Dearest @yorshie tackled this with the Bayverse boys. Highly recommend reading that. I'll take a swing at the Rise boys, though I do think their reactions would heavily depend on their mood at the time, what the two of you are doing, whether other people are around, etc. I'm imagining you on the couch in the lair, with your boy sitting nearby. Also. Don't expect much, I got about 5 hours of sleep lol

Leo

As soon as you say it he's whipping his head in your direction. A little surprised, a little excited, and a lot soft - because sometimes he feels like he's too much. Sometimes he gets that little voice in the back of his head saying that you're going to get tired of him, that you'll start to find him annoying, that he's too much, too much, always too much. But here you are. Asking him - in your silly dramatic way that he loves - for his attention. So he moves to kiss you, smiling the entire time, heart so full it feels like it might burst, and when he pulls back and you smile back at him, that voice in his head is a little quieter. (It feels inevitable to me that he eventually ends up on top of you, kissing you stupid, hands eagerly roaming all over. When he smells your arousal, he's quick to suggest that you move this into his bedroom.)

Raph

I like to imagine that Raph is a little shy in front of other people. If his brothers are in the room, I could see him blushing furiously and giving you a quick peck (if anyone says anything to tease him, he'd get really defensive and it would be ADORABLE). If Splinter is around he'd give you a look of alarm - babe PLEASE my dad is RIGHT THERE. But if you're alone... he'd smile and scoop you into his arms (picking you up like it's nothing) and kiss you sweetly. If things start to get heated, he'll stop. If you whine about it, he'll timidly suggest going to his room. (And once you're truly in private he'll let himself get lost in the feeling of your lips on his. Letting you decide the pace, letting you lead, but enthusiastically giving you whatever you want.)

Donnie

"Mm. A tragedy, really. You have my pity."

When you whine his name he finally looks at you and smirks. Reaches for you and pulls you into his lap, studies your expression closely. Holds your chin and leans in to kiss you slowly, deeply. When he pulls back, seeing you flushed and a little dazed, his smirk widens.

"Better?"

You nod, and he hums. The smirk falls as he stares at your lips, and you can't help but squeak when suddenly he's carrying you to the lab. When he sits you on a table and tells Shelldon not to let anyone in, your heart does something funny in your chest. He's standing between your legs, staring, staring, staring while the lab goes into lockdown.

"Donnie, I-"

That's all you can say before he dives back in. Kissing you like he's starving for it as his hands grip your waist, your thighs. You're already wet when he pulls your pants and underwear off and kneels between your legs. When he slips his tongue inside of you and you whimper, you swear you can feel him smirking again.

Mikey

He gasps dramatically, absolutely BEAMING, and jumps on you. Presses his forehead against yours, and says, "I can fix that." Kisses you once, twice, three times on the lips. Then moves to your neck, making you giggle as he presses more quick kisses to your skin and nuzzles into you. Depending on how you react, he might just pull you into his lap to snuggle, randomly kissing the top of your head or your nose and making you giggle. Or. He might get a mischievous grin and ask if there's anything else you'd like him to fix.

[whirlwindimagines]

So I hear you’re taking requests? 👀♥️

Could we possibly have the reader be an artist and that’s how they make money for the group? But the reader has a personal art sketchbook that Vash stumbles upon by accident when someone tries to steal the reader’s bag. He then sees the drawings that consist of different people, scenery, doodles, and then of him and little notes about him like “literal sunshine”, “kissable beauty mark” “weak in the knees with this face”

Just a little something for baby girl ♥️

Requests are always open for babygirl lol also this is so cute, and I agree that beauty mark is very kissable. Give him to me 👏👏👏 😭

Also not me posting this with out tags I’m an idiot

‘If you saw him too, you’d know what I mean’

Vash x Reader

Glancing up every once in a while, you admired the scenery in front of you making to observing every detail as you quickly sketch it out in your notebook. 

Smiling softly at Vash who sits across from you, he’s not paying attention watching a crowd of people instead. It was his idea to sneak away to this little outdoor cafe, and you greatly appreciated the gesture. It gave you time to just sit down and draw. 

And who were you to blame, if you happened to catch sight of Vash’s handsome face and want to sketch it as well? Was it a crime, you nearly drop your pencil when Vash suddenly turns to you with those sweet eyes. 

Trying to be nonchalant about what you were doing, you meet his gaze with a raised brow. “What?” You ask softly, he blinks and blushes maybe he didn’t know he had been staring at you as well. “Nothing, what are you drawing?” He answers quickly. 

It’s your turn to blush, as you quickly close the sketchbook. God, you’d die of embarrassment if he saw the sketches you’ve done of him. It’s not your fault, his face is so pretty that you need to capture his expressions! “Oh, just the landscape.” You say with a wave of your hand and a shy smile. 

You flip to the page you were sketching, checking it over to make sure it’s safe, and flip to show Vash. You smile as his eyes light up, looking over the drawing. You are a little nervous as he takes it all in, you're just hoping he doesn’t flip the page. Vash doesn’t and hands the notebook back to you. 

“Amazing!” Your heart warms at the compliment because coming from Vash you know it’s genuine. You smile, placing the sketchbook back in your bag, and you thank him. Vash places some double dollars on the table and helps you out of your chair. Shouldering your bag, the two of you walk out of the cafe side by side. Everyone was supposed to meet in the center of the market, you let Vash lead you there without complaint. 

You are shoved to the side harshly, letting out a startled yelp you managed to catch yourself with an annoyed huff. Vash turns to you concerned; you shrug going to adjust your bag when to your horror it's gone. Eyes widening, you frantically look around for it had you dropped it? Or… you gasp turning around. “That guy stole my bag!” You sob out, startling Vash beside you. You feel Vash place his hands on your shoulders, it forces you to look at him with a determined look in his gaze.

“Stay here, I’ll get it back.” You don't get a chance to reply when Vash takes off running. You frown, letting out a sigh as you listen and do what you are told for once. 

It's not difficult for Vash to catch up to the thief, he does so pretty quickly and is sure he can resolve this without any issues. The moment he saw that sullen look in your gaze, he knew he had to do something. It broke his heart to see such a sad look on your pretty face! 

“Hey stop!” Vash calls out, it startles the thief, who clearly thought they were in the clear. Vash lunges forward getting ahold of the bag, he didn't have much of a plan after that. “This belongs to my friend!” he says it with a cheerful smile, catching the man even more off guard with his attitude. 

The thief lets out a ‘tsk’ noise and tried to pull the bag back towards themselves, but Vash’s grip was stronger, and with one yank managed to get it out of the thief's hands… and spill all the contents. Vash cringed as the thief ran off, with a sigh he dropped to his knees to place everything neatly back into the bag. 

It seemed to all be mostly art supplies, he knew if you had to replace anything you would feel guilty spending the money. But you deserved it, hell if it wasn’t for you, they wouldn’t have enough to eat sometimes. Vash paused looking down at your sketchbook, you were always drawing in it but it was rare you’d show your work to him, and the others. 

Surely a quick peek wouldn’t hurt? It was already sitting half open, not wanting to psyche himself out Vash grabs it carefully and starts looking through it. His gaze softens as he looks at your sketches, familiar landmarks and places you've traveled, some animals, and people familiar and not. Vash turns the next page and flushes.

Sketches of him, is this how you see him? All soft lines, and gentle expressions. He can feel himself growing redder by the minute, he spots your handwriting, little notes around the sketches. The notes are about him as well, pointing out something in his expression, what he was looking at. And then some of the notes are cutesy with little hearts around them, the biggest heart seems to be around a note about his beauty mark. With an arrow pointing to the sketch. 

Vash slams the sketchbook closed, heart racing. He’s flattered, but unsure what to make of all of this. After a minute he smiles, you think he’s cute! Feeling light and fluttery, he places the sketchbook in the bag, making sure he’s gathered everything he stands heading back to where he left you. 

He stops when he spots you, he notices your nervous glance as you shift from foot to foot looking around. Vash watches you for a moment and his heart skips a beat, he walks towards you joining your side. You look up at him wide eye, your eyes shining when you noticed your bag in his hands. Taking the bag carefully, you hug it to your chest, “Oh Vash! Thank you so much.” 

You throw your arms around his neck, and his arms wrap around your waist without hesitation. “It was no problem.” mutters, you huff pulling back. “Oh, I’m sure, I didn’t think a bag snatcher would be the one to take down the big bad Vash the Stampede.” You tease watching him blush under your gaze. 

Vash rubs the back of his head with a slight chuckle, you smile leaning in and placing a delicate kiss on his cheek. He nearly goes as red as his coat, and you’re sure your face is flushed as well. “Seriously thank you.” stepping away from Vash, you turn going to find the others. You don't notice the soft look in Vash’s gaze as he places his hand over his cheek, or the whispered ‘you’re welcome’ he gives you. With a soft chuckle, Vash follows after you quickly joining your side.

[writingjourney]

starved | secondo x reader

summary: after a week away on clergy business, secondo wants to make up for lost time – and so do you.

content: 1.6k words, afab!reader, pronouns should be gender-neutral, this is all smut (18+, MDNI, face sitting, hair pulling, mild breeding kink, it’s softer than those tags make it sound lol, smut with feelings), established relationship

Masterlist – Ao3 link

⛧ ✦ ⛧

Secondo’s strong nose presses right up against your clit. You’re struggling to hold still with his tongue inside of you, with the vibrations each of his moans sends through your whole body. He seems to have given up breathing for the time being. His grip on your hips is so tight that you can already feel the first bruises that will undoubtedly blossom on your skin over night. After a week of being away on clergy business, his continued disagreements with Sister and two delayed flights on the way home, Secondo came home, raging-hard and impatient, and you’d let him fuck his frustrations out on you right in the hallway. After a shower, exchanging all the gentle touches and words of affection you’ve been missing for the past week, you proposed to order in some dinner. Secondo didn’t even let you finish your sentence before he dragged you off to the bedroom, wet footprints running along the wooden floor.

“You know I’m so hungry after my flight, amore,” he’d said on the way over, “but nothing tastes as good as you and that is what your Papa truly craves.” 

This is how you ended up sitting on his face, grasping the headboard so tightly that your knuckles turn white. Any doubt or hesitation flies out the window when he firmly pushes his tongue inside of you again and again. You can’t help but grind on his face. The bridge of his nose drags over your clit with every roll of your hips and that’s when he starts to really get going. Once Secondo has you exactly where he wants you, he’s relentless, not letting up until you’re screaming his name into the safe cocoon that is his four poster bed with the heavy drapes. Even after you come down from your high, he doesn’t let you go.

“Please,” you whine, your thighs trembling on either side of his flustered face. “Papa.”

Secondo’s eyes meet yours then, a hint of annoyance at the interruption, and you know he wants to keep this going for as long as you’re able to sit upright. But you want more of him after your long deprivation, you want to feel him until it hurts.

“What is it, amore?” he finally asks, voice muffled between your thighs.

“I want you inside of me,” you try again. “Please. I missed you so much, I want more.”

With a flicker of reluctance, his grip eases up, fingers uncurling as he drags his hands down your legs. You manage to slip away from his messy face, settling on the mattress beside him. As you run your fingernails down his torso, they leave red marks on his pale skin, stopping right where his hard cock is already leaking onto his abdomen.

“Hm, va bene. I allow it,” he says, sitting up slightly and giving your ass a gentle slap. “Show your Papa how much you missed him, my little dove. Come on, I am yours, use me how you wish.”

You hesitate for a second. It’s unusual for him to give up control so easily but the growing smirk on his face tells you that that’s not what this is. He entertains you, gives you what you want before he takes what he wants.

“What? I thought you were so desperate, amore,” he teases, his hand still on your ass, squeezing the supple flesh with his long fingers.

Excitement shoots through your veins now. You move to straddle him, facing away from him just how he likes with your hands gripping his thighs for more support. Immediately, you feel his hands all over your back, tracing every curve he can find, even wrapping around to fondle with your breasts for a moment. You roll your hips a few times, feeling his cock slide between your slick folds, back and forth, back and forth, gasping whenever his length presses into your clit. When you finally sink down on him, you moan, feeling him stretch you open far wider than his tongue ever could.

“Just like that, amore,” he coos. “So good for me.”

His words are like balm on your soul after going so long without his gentle praise. Once you’re used to his size, you start to move in a rhythm that feels sustainable. Secondo’s hands never stop exploring your back, even as you speed up, and you can hear his breathing getting faster as well. His fingers grasp your hair, wrapping what he can around his hand and yanking your head back until your body arches. His other hand explores the curve he just created, running up and down your spine like a sculptor feeling the flow of the marble.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs. “How I missed this view.”

Your reply is a low groan, the angle making it harder to move. Secondo sits up and pulls you back into his lap, his free hand tight on your hip while the other one searches for the spot where your bodies join. He drags his mouth over your neck, never settling at one spot as his hot breath wanders over your skin. With every roll of your hips, you can feel the tip of his cock dragging along your sensitive walls, and his fingers flick over your clit in sync with your movements. It’s almost enough to make you come again but even with your eyes squeezed shut, you can’t help but wish you would see his face.

You freeze all your movements and he immediately stops as well, ever so perceptive.

“Are you alright, my dove?” he asks, his voice hoarse and out of breath.

You get off of him and turn around, immediately helping him back inside of you once you’ve settled in his lap. He groans at the renewed contact and you wrap your arms around him, pressing yourself against his front until you can feel your breasts squeezed between your bodies.

“I wanted to see you,” you whisper against his lips. “My handsome Papa. I missed you so.”

Secondo smiles, the loving smile he only ever gives you, and then he leans back against the headboard, taking you with him. The smile gets strained as you push yourself onto his cock. You can tell he’s close and before you can even begin to move, he digs his heels into the mattress, steadying you by your hips, and thrusts up into you. You cry out, holding onto him, fingertips digging into firm, muscly shoulders. He doesn’t slow, carrying you closer towards your release with every snap of his narrow hips.

“Papa,” you whimper, slowly losing your grasp on reality.

“I know. I have you, my dove,” he says, panting between words. “Your Papa takes care of you. Always.” 

He swallows your next moan, pushing his tongue against yours in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. You fall over the edge with a sob, clenching around him almost painfully tight. Groaning into your mouth, Secondo gives two more harsh thrusts and then stills. You softly run your hand over his cheek when you feel him spilling inside of you, holding his gaze even as his eyelids flutter. You roll your hips in an attempt to carry him through and it earns you a low hum that vibrates against your palm. Smiling contently, you press a soft kiss to his lips, cradling his face for a moment before you sink against him in a tight, sweaty hug.

Secondo gently runs his fingers over your back as you both calm down. With his slowing breaths in your ear, your lips search for the soft skin below his jaw, kissing, sucking, nibbling, and he chuckles. “You are hungry, yes?”

“For you, my Papa. I am starved.”

Another deep rumble in his chest. “Did I not sate you yet, my love?”

You grimace, even though he can’t see it. “How could I ever be sated when they constantly take you away from me?”

Secondo hums. “Next time I refuse. All these useless trips, they just want me gone when they make decisions I do not like.”

“Or take me with you and we can just go somewhere nice.” You sigh, placing a trail of kisses from his neck over his jaw and to his cheek. “I love you, Secondo.”

“And I love you, my dove.”

He holds you for a moment longer, exploratory hands refamiliarising themselves with your body. You move to get off of him when you start to feel uncomfortable but his arms around you tighten until you’re trapped. You can feel his cock moving inside of you, sliding in deeper again through the stickiness of your joined bodies.

“Ah ah, amore,” Secondo chides softly. “You don’t want to waste the seed I just gave you?”

“Mhm, I’m sorry, Papa.”

“It’s okay.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “We’re honoring Satan tonight, my dove. You and I. We have to make up for a whole week, no?”

You hum and Secondo gives a lazy thrust in reply that has you moaning into the crook of his neck. He’s growing hard inside of you again and you can feel your arousal stirring as well. In one swift motion, he rolls you around so you’re underneath him, losing orientation when his mouth descends on yours in a heated kiss. When he breaks away, he starts to grind into you, his brow furrowed in concentration as his intense eyes focus on yours.

“He will be very pleased with you, taking me so well,” he whispers against your lips, his hand snaking up to wrap around your neck. “Are you ready for more, amore?”

You grasp his wrist, feeling his pulse against your fingertips. “Always, Papa.”

Thank you for reading! This was just a quick random thing I wanted to get off my mind. I hope you enjoyed nevertheless ♡

Masterlist – My Ao3

[cowboydisaster]

Sleepless Nights

repost, originally posted on 13 march 2023

pairing: Dutch van der Linde x fem!reader (+jealous arthur? check notes)

word count: 3k

summary: Dutch helps to keep you toasty on a freezing Colter night. This was written to an anon request "I can think of a few ways to keep warm"

a/n: idk how but this turned into a dutch smut + a snippet of jealous Arthur at the end? Not sure, but I like the finished product!

warning: nsfw, 18+, minors dni

taglist: @margofiore@mrsarthurmorgan7@woman-with-no-name@luvliewriting@tillith@pine4pple-b0i@photo1030@dudsparrow (sorry for tagging you twice, I'm done, I promise lol.)

Your teeth chatter and click together in the overwhelmingly cold cabin. You hate Colter, you hate this storm and you hate the Pinkertons. The only thing keeping you sane right now is Dutch at your back. It’s dark in your section of the little cabin, and it's freezing cold. Dutch lines your back on the small bed, spooning you as close as he can possibly get without crushing you. His warmth doesn’t help much in the storm, but it's better than nothing. Arthur and Hosea are in the other rooms in the little cabin, and by the sounds of their snores through the thin wall, they’re not suffering nearly as much as you are. 

“My dear, this is killing me. What can I do?” Dutch says, beside himself from the way you’re shaking down to your bones. Your skin is like ice, and even as he rubs up and down your arms, you don't warm up.

“Nothing, it's okay but I-Im, god, I'm so c-cold.” Is the only reply you can muster. Dutch pulls your back closer to his chest, thinking. 

You coil around yourself, smiling as Dutch begins to pepper open mouthed kisses along your neck and jaw. He nips the skin of your pulsepoint, gently toying it with his teeth before running his tongue over the red spot.

“You know…” Dutch begins, and the hand that was snaked around your waist moves downward to reach up the bottom of your chemise. You shudder, but not from the cold, as Dutch’s featherlight touch trails up your thigh, past your abdomen and to your breasts. 

“I can think of a few ways to keep warm…” Dutch whispers, breath hot against your neck. He kisses the underside of your jaw, running his thumb overtop your hardened nipple before circling it a few times. 

Your breath hitches in your throat, and the little gasp that leaves your lips causes Dutch’s jeans to grow tighter around his groin. His thumb flicks over your nipple a few times, and his lips kiss and suck at your ear lobe. 

“Dutch, wait- Hosea and Arthur are sleeping and the walls are thin-” You protest lightly, not wanting to get caught in the act. But the warmth that starts to cover your body from Dutch’s touch and the wetness that begins to pool between your thighs begs him to continue.

“Guess we’ll have to be quiet then, hmm?” Dutch pinches your nipple lightly, trying to restrain from grinding his hips against your ass as he whispers against your ear, “Can you do that for me, princess?”

You whimper, pushing yourself back against Dutch. It elicits a deep groan from the man, and you can feel the outline of his hard cock against your lower back. 

“Mhm.” You nod, needing Dutch to keep touching you. 

He obliges of course, squeezing your breast and groaning before sliding his hand down towards your lower stomach. Once he reaches your thighs, he urges them apart. 

“Can you spread these pretty thighs for me? Hmm, my dear?” Dutch asks, and his voice alone does you in. You lift your leg up a bit, still in a spooning position to grant his hands access. He brings his hand in between your thighs from the back, and runs his fingers over your slick folds. 

“You’re so… God- You’re so wet for me.” Dutch whispers, and his cock is pressing so hard against the inside of his jeans that it hurts. But he’ll take care of you first, he always does. 

His fingers trace a familiar pattern over your clit, the same one that you use to get yourself off. He knows you like the back of his hand, knows everything you want, everything you need. Being with Dutch is as easy as breathing, and you need him like the oxygen that flows to and from your lungs. His large hands ground you, touching you in a manner that doesn’t allow the chill of the room to grasp onto you. Your body burns with his touch, racing ever faster towards a cliff's edge. 

It doesn't take long. His voice combined with the way he’s touching you are the perfect concoction that has you whimpering and gasping. You turn your head into the pillow, and every exhale hits you with a wave of building pleasure. It's the kind of orgasm that peaks slowly, his fingers know exactly what you need, responding to your moans to bring you to a toe curling, whimpering mess. Even with your face lodged into the pillow, your gasping breaths and moans can be heard, albeit muffled. You rock against Dutch’s fingers, elongating your orgasm while clamping your thighs down over his arm and hand. 

“Yeah, just like that… let me work you through it, easy.” Dutch coos, rubbing against your clit until it's too much and you have to pull away from oversensitivity. 

“Fuck, Dutch–” You whimper, and the sweat on your forehead speaks for your better temperature. 

He presses a kiss to the back of your head, shushing you and reminding you that Hosea and Arthur are just on the other side of the wall. Really you don’t care, you can’t even form a coherent thought as you push your ass against Dutch's groin, grinding against his unfreed cock until he groans. He pulls his zipper down far too slow for what you need. 

“Please, Dutch, I need-” You whine, cunt throbbing with need. 

“Just a second, my dear. Patience.” Dutch chuckles, finally releasing his thick shaft from the confines of his jeans. He lifts your thigh up again, running the rosy head of his cock along your entrance to use your slick. 

“You ready, my love?” Dutch whispers, kissing your shoulder, his facial hair causing goosebumps to shiver down your body. You nod, begging him to just take you already. 

As soon as he has your consent, he slides in, pushing into you slowly. Your walls are tight around him, even with all the slick and the foreplay. You moan, tossing your head back against Dutch’s chest as he slowly fucks you from behind, still spooning.  The position gives him a perfect angle to bump right into your G-spot, and you’re moaning and whimpering after only a few moments of his slow thrusts. His hand steadies himself on your hip, and you reach to your side to grasp onto it, nails digging into his hand. 

“God- you’re so tight.” Dutch groans as he thrusts into you. The head of his cock bumps right into that sweet spot, and you feel the first tingling of an approaching orgasm, even without the external stimulation.

"Oh Dutch faster please-" You moan, needing to feel more of him, quicker and harder. 

"As you wish, my love." Dutch groans before picking up his pace and ramming into you so hard that the bed rocks side to side with his rhythm. The creaking bed is loud, but not nearly as loud or vulgar as his hips slapping against your ass, or the moans that fall from your lips as you pinch your nipple. 

"Fuck! Oh- Dutch I'm so close!" You practically scream, gripping onto the side of the bed that rocks like a ship mid-storm. You can feel every ridge, every vein and every twitch of Dutch inside you as he mercilessly takes you. 

"Cum for me, my dear, let me feel it-" Dutch groans in your ear, holding himself back until you've been properly satisfied. It's difficult, considering those pretty noises you're making, and the way his name falls so effortlessly from your lips. 

As soon as he says the words, you allow yourself release. Your walls clamp down around Dutch as you rock back against him, waves of tight, hot pleasure falling over you. Dutch tries to continue his pace to ensure your maximum pleasure, but you're squeezing him so tightly, and god- the sounds you make. You moan, crying out and gasping for air as "Oh!" and "Dutch!"  are repeated over and over. 

You can feel him begin to twitch, he groans louder, fucks you erratically. You've said the words before you've even considered them, before you've even thought of the consequences. 

"No, dont pull out please- I wanna feel you, I wanna take it!" You yell out, surely you've woken up Arthur and Hosea by now. Surely they can hear everything happening through the thin walls, but you don't care, not right now anyway. 

As soon as he has permission,  he thrusts into you one last, slow and hard time, filling you up completely. He sputters and groans as he does. 

"So good for me- so good." Dutch mumbles, an aborted thrust of his hips paints your walls with the last bit of his spend. 

You bring your thigh back down, wincing from overstimulation. Dutch doesn't pull out of you, still in to the hilt as he wraps his arms around you again. You're breathing heavily, recuperating from the best orgasm you've ever had in your life. 

"Thank you…" You whisper, craning your head to catch his lips in a kiss. It starts out slow, your lips meet his own in a small, sweet show of love. But as it grows longer, and his pecks become little bites to your bottom lip, you feel heat pooling in your belly again.

"You know, I have to be up early Mr. van der Linde." You chastise, looking into his eyes before trailing back down to his lips. 

"Hmmm, I do. But there's less productive, albeit more interesting ways we could spend our time rather than sleeping… I do have an obligation to keep you warm. Isn't that right miss?" He whispers, trailing kisses from the underside of your jawline down to your neck, and licking a trail up to your earlobe before nipping it with his teeth. 

"We really shouldn't, Dutch. We have to rob the train tomorrow." You counter, but the way you giggle, and your breath picking up tells Dutch that you don't want him to stop.

"I have an idea." Dutch says, kissing your temple before pulling out of you, slowly. 

"Y'know, I have a special talent.." Dutch jokes, sitting up in the bed beside you and urging you to lay on your back. 

"Oh, you do?" You play, knowing exactly where this is going and loving every second of it. 

You spread your legs for Dutch, pulling your chemise up enough to expose yourself to him. 

"Oh, I do. And luckily for you, it is a talent that you're quite familiar with." Dutch jokes before ducking under the blankets. You laugh out loud, because he is ridiculous. 

He settles himself in between your legs, under the blankets before you feel his mustache against your inner thighs, bucking your hips to chase after the feeling of his mouth on your most sensitive bits.

—

Arthur wakes up in a cold sweat from a dream. A dream about you. It's a dream that plagues him on lonely nights. One of your body under his own, slotting together with him. One where you call out his name, gripping onto him like he's everything while he touches every inch of your body, memorizing you. 

He wakes up, and sees the tent that has formed under the blanket from his dirty mind. 

"Goddamnit-" Arthur sighs, angry with himself for being such a creep. Because he will never have you. You are with Dutch- you don't want him. And as he lies awake thinking about you, or sleeps and dreams of you at night, he is only a fleeting thought in your mind. When he sees you in camp, smiling bright with flowers in your hair, your clothes wrapped tightly around your body it drives him mad. He could show you what love can be, he could love you better than Dutch. But he will never have that chance. 

So he does what he does everytime you linger on his mind for too long… 

Arthur reaches down, under the blankets to free his erect cock from his long johns. As soon as his hard shaft springs free from the material, his eyes slip closed, and he recalls his dream. 

You're underneath his body, gasping for breath and moaning as he thrusts into you hard and slow. He starts to stroke himself lightly, toying with himself. He thinks of you in his tent, stepping out of your clothes, of you sitting in his lap, taking what you need and rocking yourself against him. With every stroke of his hand on his cock, he imagines that it's you. He pumps himself into his closed fist, running his thumb over his head just wishing that it was your mouth, your lips on him, your tight walls, taking him like his girl. He whispers your name under his breath, bucking his hips up into his hand.

… And then he hears it. A whimper, coming from the otherside of the wall directly to his left. The wall that separates his room from yours and Dutch's.

Arthur's hand stops abruptly when he hears it. His eyes shoot open, and he glances to the wall, separating you from him by just a few feet. 

"Fuck, Dutch-" You moan, gasping and whimpering from the other side of the wall. At first, it takes the breath away from Arthur. That bastard is touching you right here, for everyone to hear. Like he's showing you off, letting Arthur know what he will never have. Arthur wants to quit, wants to shove his hard length back into his pants and be swallowed up by the floor. 

But then your moans continue, and as Arthur's eyes slip closed again, you whimper, and his cock twitches with need. Arthur sighs, feeling like a total pervert as he starts to slowly pump his fist up and down his shaft again. Arthur pretends that it's him making you moan like that. It's him on top of you, fucking into that sweet little cunt and kissing those perfect rosy lips. He imagines his lips, kissing and licking at those perfect breasts, taking you and giving you everything you need. 

"Please Dutch, I need-" You whine, begging

Dutch to fuck you, and Arthur decides in this moment that he hates Dutch. Arthur hates that Dutch is having you like this, while he pathetically fucks his fist. Because Arthur loves you. He loves you, and you're with Dutch.

Then Arthur hears the unmistakable sounds of sex. He hears Dutch thrusting into you, the slap of you taking him to the hilt, and how you moan with every goddamn rock. Arthur bucks his hips up, fucking his hand hard and fast, wishing it were you. He times his hand with your moans, just wishing that it were him making you moan like that.

"God, you're so tight…" Dutch growls, and Arthur wants nothing more than to go in there and kill the sonofabitch. It should be him in there, not Dutch. 

Arthur tightens his fist around his shaft, only being able to imagine how it must feel to have you around him.

The younger outlaw holds his groans in, not wanting to be caught. You on the other hand are crying out, whimpering and moaning Dutch's name. Arthur hates it, and green envy colors him with want. It only makes his movements harder, faster. 

"Fuck! Oh- Dutch I'm so close!" You yell through the slightly muffled wall. 

Arthur has always wondered what you sound like, how you moan when you cum. And tonight is no different. He is waiting for your release, begging you in his mind to just fucking cum already so that he can put this goddamn fantasy that's never going to happen to rest and get some sleep. 

After a few moments he hears the release. Your breaths get heavy, loud and quick. They turn to gasps, that turn to moans until the whole cabin reverberates with your sweet, beautiful cries of pleasure. You're calling out Dutch's name, but Arthur ignores it. He pumps his fist in time with your moans, climaxing with you. With a low, quiet groan, Arthur cums, sending warm strings of his spend up over his own stomach. For a moment, Arthur just lays there, listening to your whimpers continue. Your orgasm is drawn out, as you moan and gasp for a while until they quiet down. 

He feels enraged as you beg Dutch to finish inside you. Of course you do. Arthur hates Dutch and he hates whatever cruel higher power is forcing him to endure this purgatory. He hears your whimpers and moans, knowing that it's something he will never elicit from you. Dutch groans, and Arthur is actually relieved, knowing it's finally fucking over. 

Arthur wipes himself off, feeling like an asshole. His heart shatters when he hears the little kisses that you two share, the aftercare that Arthur wants nothing more than to give you. After a few moments of quiet, and some giggles, it starts all over again. You start to moan, start to whimper and groan. 

"Christ alive…" Arthur whispers, shoving a pillow over his ear. He does actually want to get some sleep, and he feels like a complete perv, listening in like that.

Much to Arthur's growing insanity, you don't stop. No, not for the rest of the night. The two of you go at it like rabbits, and Dutch brings you over the edge again and again, until Arthur stomps out of the cabin and spends the rest of the night in the barn. 

No one gets much sleep.

[toomuchracket]

someone sent me the loveliest ask about bday party matty following girly around after tour ends that i accidentally deleted because i saved to drafts and couldn't edit on mobile SO i shall discuss it here. yes, you're right, he is without question in groupie mode (well, more so than usual lol) - after some, um, morning bedroom activities, he'll hover over you and kiss your nose like "so, my sweet girl, what's on your agenda today?", and when you tell him you've got an interview or a radio appearance or a signing he's like "that sounds fun. can i tag along, darling? i'll hold your handbag for you" lol bless him. and he's determined that everything is about you; he makes it so clear to the interviewers or presenters that "i'm only here in bf mode! it's my girl's moment! please don't mention me", but he caves a little when you pout and say "but i want to talk about you. half of these essays are about you", gives you a little nose kiss and says "well, alright, if you insist lol", which in turn makes you roll your eyes and say "bloody narcissist. but i love you!" lmao it's all very cute and fun. throughout the interview, he looks at you like you hung the moon, his eyes never leaving your face and his smile never leaving his - an audio clip from your radio interview goes viral because the host says "no wonder you're writing all these wonderful essays about being in love and being loved - the way your other half (matty tears up at this btw lol) looks at you, and has done the whole time we've been talking, i don't think anyone has ever been so loved as you are by him", and you get all blushy and bashful and giggly before you say "well, he has, by me", and the world seems to really love this little insight moment. and when you get home at the end of the day, matty's insistent on being the one to make dinner because "you've been working, darling, relax"; you sit in the kitchen while he cooks, mayhem at your feet and a glass of wine in your hand, and nothing has ever been so domestic and perfect. speaking of domesticity, actually - on your days off, the two of you have been rearranging the house somewhat. partially in prep for christmas decorations, but also partially because even though you moved in ages and ages ago you haven't really had the time to find the right places for all your things. matty had the kinda cute, kinda egotistical (thus, extremely him) idea of putting all your awards and most cherished writing bits in the same room as his music equivalents, so you've had to source appropriately nice bookcases for that to happen; the room looks so cool once it's finished, books interspersed with music scores and brits surrounding the booker nomination, and matty's like "you know, this is really fitting, given that we inspire each other so much. and it's also cool as fuck. like we really are the coolest couple on the planet" lol. he puts a desk in there under the guise of that being the best room to do video interviews from, but really it's so he has something to bend you over; of course thinking about the two of you being so hot and cool and accomplished gets him going, it's matty we're talking about lmfao. but really, at his core, he's a sweetheart completely in love with you - once you both got the christmas tree up and decorated, you tugged him into the kitchen like "ok, it's time. you said we were having chicken for dinner, yeah?", and matty nods in confusion and then gasps when he sees the potatoes and the baking tray and your seasoning mix on the counter like "wait, is this what i think it is? you're-" and you nod like "teaching you the roast potato recipe. this is it, healy, you're stuck with me forever now". and matty - crying, obv - just grabs your face and kisses you deeply, murmuring "can't fucking wait for that. i love you". cute as hell <3

[ihateapbiology]

The First Time

Warnings- includes smut, only descriptor of character is wears heels, curse words (am I supposed to tag that lol)

Inspired by thatonefemmelesbian

It had been an amazing night as you and your girlfriend of two months-Julien- stumble through her apartment door- drunk off eachother. “I really do like your friends” you exclaimed as you took off your heels and placed them by the door. The shorter girl takes this as an opportunity to have easier access to lay a kiss on your lips before saying “I know they loved you that’s for sure.”

You smile and go to kiss her again but she smiles and takes a step back teasingly.

You laugh “you can’t just give me a little peck and then expect me to feel satiated Baker.”

Julien’s face changes to a different look, one filled with lust and desire and says softly “I think if you kissed me again I wouldn’t be able to hold back.”

You and Julien had long before had a talk about sex and how you hadn’t done it before. You had reiterated on multiple times that you “had had chances” but never took them- she of course assured you it was fine and she’d wait. But as you’d grown closer to Julien you felt safe, you felt loved (even if neither had said the actual 3 words yet) and you did feel lust.

You take a deep breath “then do it. Lose control.”

Her big brown eyes widen “babe are..are you sure because I am completely fine waiting longer.”

You cup her face “I want you.”

That’s all it takes for her to swoop you off your feet as you squeal in happiness. She gently sets you down on her bed and you guys keep making out but slowly she moves downward. She nips and leaves love bites all over your neck. “So god damn beautiful.” She mutters that among other sweet nothings. She looks at your shirt “can I take this off baby.”

You nod.

She makes quick work of the shirt and kisses all over your exposed stomach. “So pretty so gorgeous” she remarks before giving your bra and gentle snap. “May I”

You respond “yes please” and watch the garmet fall to the ground.

She cups one of your breasts with her tattooed hand and takes the nipple of the other into her mouth.

You gasp “oh fuck Julien”

She laughs and coyly remarks “I’m getting there.” She continues her onslaught on your chest for a little longer before taking off her shirt and binder.

You bite your lip and gently look at her to make sure it’s ok if you touch- once you get her affirmation- you caress and kiss all over her pretty body.

Soon though she takes control back taking off your pants- with just your panties on still. She asks “are you sure.”

“Yes I am.”

She asks “how do you want it?”

You look at her confused.

She laughs a bit “like my tongue, fingers….”

You smile “uhh I guess your tongue” you say shyly.

Soon your panties are discarded and she kisses along your inner thighs- right around your aching core. And then she lays a soft kiss right in the middle of your center and dives her tongue into your folds.

“Oh ah oh god Julien”

She smiles and gives your clit and gentle suck before going up to say “you taste so good.” She swirls her tongue around your folds pushing you closer and closer to the edge until eventually you finish. She works you through it with tender touches.

Once you’ve calmed down a bit you softly say “I want to make you fell good.”

She smiles “babe it’s about you.”

You smile and insist “cmon I mean I want to but also if you don’t like that sorta thing it’s complete fine.”

She grins “well I do like it so if you’re sure.”

You flip over on top of her and make your way down and pause “I’ve never done this before so if it’s really ba-

She cuts you off “as long as I’m with you I’ll feel happy.”

Soon you tug off her boxers and give her core a gentle touch with your fingers. “You’re good? Tell me if you want to stop ever.”

“I will babe.”

You slide a finger into her wet folds moaning at how wet she is for you. You gently once you feel her settle around you move the finger in and out. Once she’s accustomed to that you slide in another finger to pretty much push her off the edge.

afterwards

Julien pulls you up into her arms. “you’re so perfect my beautiful girl.”

You tease “well technically no one can be perfect” you smile into her chest giving it a chaste kiss.

She flicks your head and then peppers you with kisses. “Hey wanna know something”

“What?” You smile

She smiles (you know that huge smile she does) “I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat. “I love you too.”

[haarrrys]

Hey! Would you write something about Amani getting her first period?

growing up 🍓

wc - 1.4k

🏷️ tags - dad!harry, singledad.harry, minor angst¿, dad!harry × amani, and of course, fluff.

pairings - singledad!harry & daughter!amani 🍪 🥛

summary - amani gets her first period

(a/n)- sweet sweet anon who sent the request months ago, tysm for being patient with me. im so sorry for my laziness lol

more harry and amani!

a knock rang throughout the room, startling sarah. "who is it?" she called, setting her sage green nail polish onto a nearby dresser.

she figured it could be room service, just wanting to clean, or the lunch she ordered.

"it's me— amani." sarah heard, just as she got closer to the door. sarah smiled, opening it. "hey love— is everything alright?" she asked, growing more concerned as she took in amani's worried face— as well as her paled complexion, that replaced her usual tan.

it wasn't unnatural for amani to come stay with sarah in her suite, as harry, her father, and the rest of the guys normally took up harry's room, causing ruckus.

sarah usually stayed in her own room, with her baby, accompanied by amani, who could always use some girl time.

but, what was unnatural was the way amani shyly walked into her room, scouting the room incase anyone else was present before speaking.

"it's just me and max," sarah assured, referring to the sleeping boy in the middle of the bed.

amani sighed, "i think.. i think I started my period." she winced, her breathing picking up as she revealed it. sarah gasped, her expression softening while a smile broke out onto her face.

"awhh, that's a good thing! it's natural, you're growing up! I can't believe it." she smiled, hugging the girl. "here, come follow me. i think i still have some stuff left." she said, pulling away from the hug and walking towards the unnecessarily large bathroom.

she opened the drawer, skimming through some thing before finding two boxes of pads and tampons.

"okay, so, since it's your first time I suggest using pads— just cause they're easier, but if you wanna use the tampons..?" sarah said. amani blushed, "ill just use the pads."

"alright! that's okay. do you know how to put one on? I don't know if harry explained it to you." sarah asked, causing amani to smile. "he tried, but he knows as much about periods as I do—nothing." she laughed, making sarah join in with her.

"that's fine, I can show you if you want." sarah offered. amani shook her head, feeling embarrassed, "i can figure it out." she dismissed.

sarah smiled sadly, "amani, it's normal to feel weird.. or even uncomfortable about these things, but almost every girl goes through it. you don't have to feel embarrassed, especially not with me, okay?" she explained, making amani smile sheepishly.

times like this, she wishes she did have a mother to talk about puberty, periods, and just her body changing, but she's thankful that she has someone who is basically a mother figure— sarah.

of course, harry tries his best to fill that role, especially now that amani's actually growing into a woman— however, she just feels more comfortable talking to someone who can relate to her.

"thank you," she whispered.

sarah smiled, as if to say a silent 'your welcome.'

"oh and sarah—can you get me underwear? and different pants?" amani sighed. sarah only then noticed the sweater tied around her waist, likely used to cover a stain.

"of course! your dads still in the room right?"

"yea, he'll let you in but..can you just not tell him?" amani said, her face reddening once again.

"oh, love, did you want to tell him yourself?" sarah questioned, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

amani shrugged in response. she had no plan whatsoever of telling him.

sarah sighed. "you know, you have to tell him eventually. it'll be worse if he finds out by himself, probably more embarrassing." she smiles.

amani shakes her head, "i'm scared." she admits, hiding her face in her hands.

sarah frowns, "scared? of what? he'll probably cry a little, but that's just cause his little girl is growing up."

amani laughed at that, imagining her dad in tears over her starting her period— a likely event.

"maybe he'll think it's gross— I don't know." she sighed. "im probably just overthinking it."

"you are. he won't find it gross, I promise. now, do you wanna tell him, or do you want me to?"

"you can tell him."

-

"she started her what?!" harry gasped, suddenly feeling uneasy on his feet.

sarah smacked his shoulder, putting her index finger to her lips, shushing him. "her period harry. menstruation? time of the month? flowers? quiet down if you don't want amani to be embarrassed when the whole hotel knows her business."

harry sighed, steadying himself as he took a seat.

"..why didn't she tell me first? is she alright?" harry frowned, his head gears turning faster than he could register. his daughter had started her period— but didn't go to him first. why? had he done something wrong?

sarah shook her head,"she's okay, calm down. it's just easier to talk about periods with people who've actually had them harry, it's not personal." she laughed, reassuring him, although she knew he'd still worry.

harry, who still had a deep frown on his face nodded.

he understands how awkward it would've been for her to tell him— but as a singe!parent, he feels shitty that she went to someone else, instead of her dad.

"okay.." harry sighed, wiping the tears that began to well up in his eyes. "i need to buy stuff right? what do i get?" he asked, already making a mental note of the stuff he knows gemma gets.

"pads, tampons, heating pad, ice-cream, and a little stuffed animal. 'always'and 'tampax' are really good brands. oh, and make sure you get different sizes for different levels of blood flow." sarah instructed.

harry nodded along, keeping everything she said in mind.

"I'm gonna go and get her clothes now." sarah said. "oh and harry?"

he perked up.

"she's okay. this is apart of her growing up. don't go haywire and coddle her."

-

that afternoon, after amani was all situated, she stayed with sarah and max for awhile, before heading back to her suite she shared with her dad, harry.

as soon as amani walked in, she was met with her dad, who's face lit up proudly.

harry walked over to her, but it seemed like he himself had just gotten back. he was carrying bags, unbeknownst to amani, full of period products.

"I got everything you need, love." he said, holding out the bag for her. she could see boxes full of everything and more that's she would need, as well as snacks that he didn't need to, but wanted to buy for her.

amani blushed, feeling embarrassed yet loved. she had never expected that her period would be such a big deal to harry, or that he would even know what to buy for her.

he'd always been a little, over the top some may say, but still her dad's reaction took her by surprise. he was smiling, looking at her with love and warmth in his eyes. he wasn't even upset with her that she didn't tell him first.

when he noticed how out of place she looked, he smiled softly.

"hey, it's okay, amani. you don't have to be embarrassed," he said, handing her the bag full of goodies, that he'd definitely not let her indulge in on a regular day, being the health nut dad he is. "it's normal. you're growing up and becoming a woman now. couldn't feel anymore more prouder."

amani felt her heart pounding in her chest. she had never thought he would be this understanding and supportive. but as she thought of it, why wouldn't he be? all her life, no matter what she decided to do, her dad was always there backing her up.

she realized, her fear of telling him was irrational.

"thank you dad." she whispered, taking the bag from him and hugging him tightly.

harry hugged her back, holding her close.

"you're my daughter and I'm always here for you. I'm proud of you," he said, as tears started to well up in his eyes.

amani wasn't surprised by his emotional reaction, more so, she surprised herself when she also began to cry. she couldn't help feeling happy and loved. in that moment, she realized that the bonds of parenthood are not only about love, but also about understanding and support.

she was grateful to have harry as her dad and sarah as another woman in her life who filled the missing role in her life, and she knew that they would always be there for her, no matter what.

thank you so much for reading! ☕️ 🤍

requests are always open!

-fic rec masterlist-

[prinvessdior]

hello, again… I’ve written something about my biggest rivial in life bc he needs to suffer.

anyways hope you enjoy Asmo!!

(A/n: just a heads up! This takes place just a little after jjk 0! So minor jjk 0 spoilers but nothing is actually said just implied. Enjoy! Or try to lol oh and spoilers in tags!)

I’ve seen this before, I think I have at least. This is familiar though. I’ve seen this before.

All of the bloodshed, walking across a field of bodies torn apart. Then up ahead is Jujutsu High I can see the spirits Suguru had released on this night, but it’s different.

Alone, but I wasn’t alone before I remember now.

Then, as I turn my head the scene changes, I’m holding her she’s gone already I can tell I can’t open my mouth to speak nothings coming out. I can barely see her. Why can’t I see her? She’s still bleeding, everything shaking. or is that me shaking.

But this is all too familiar, I just lean down to place my head on hers, closing open eyes, I can’t bear to look in anymore. I just tremble and hold the only thing left.

You’re not used to this sight. A finally peacefully sleeping Gojo Satoru, be it at 3:56 in the morning but asleep no less.

sighing you close the book you were previously reading to relish in the sight for a bit. Starting out running your fingers softly through his hair, pushing it out of his face before moving to cup his cheek. Leaning down to press a soft kiss on his forehead pulling back.

Then, like a fucking horror movie, Satoru suddenly jumps up with a gasp almost bumping foreheads with you. Luckily pulling back just in time to dodge his literal attack.

“Holy Fuck! What was that!?”

Obviously shocked, Satoru gathers his bearings for a moment breathing heavily, you crawl over to him hesitantly reaching out to place your hand on his that was gripping the sheets.

“‘Toru?” You ask, voice coming out softly as to not alarm him.

He says nothing but reaches out to grab you just as hesitantly as if you’re a ghost to him in this moment. He feels up and down your arms, scaling up to cup your face, you tilt your head. This was too concerning especially for him.

As he figures out that you’re alive, you guess, he lets out something between a relieved gasp and sob. He pulls you to him by your head and waist now gripping you like it’s everything he depends on.

He says there for a moment and you let him, just hugging him and rubbing your hand up and down his shoulders and back to try and comfort him. You can hear soft sniffles coming from him, and that’s all you hear before those sniffles turn into soft snores once again.

You maneuver both of you into a comfortably enough laying position given he wasn’t letting you go even fast asleep. Once you pulled the blankets over you both the best you could.

You could see the stains of dried tears on his cheeks and even fresh ones as he just fell asleep. All you could do was hug him close to you and hope this would be enough.

——————————————————————————

tags!: @asmobeuses

shoot me a dm to be added to my tags!

[pidayforpi]

(Okay.

So, if anyone remembers: In last July (which was already nearly 9 months ago omg), there was a "Donro Week 2023" event here. From 23 July to 29 July.

For once, I had...actually planned to participate in it (which would have been the second time I participate in a community event, after a (small) Discord secret santa in 2021).

Of course via writing, because you won't want to see me draw.

The format of the (story) writings would have been like this:

If anyone still remembers, there were "question prompts" for each day of the Donro Week (in addition to the "one-word" prompts, like "Lazy Days" for Day 1, or "AU" for Day 6).

The question prompts were something like:

[Day 1: "How do you think Donald and Gyro first met and become friends, then eventual partners?"

Day 2: "What qualities do Donald and Gyro get annoyed by or not like in each other?"

Day 5: "How do you think the extended Gearloose and Duck family would react to their relationship?"]

etc.

What I had planned to do, was writing out a set of Dewey Dew-Night interview scenarios, in which Dewey asks Paperino and Archimedes the corresponding question for that day.

[NB: Not Donald and Gyro, at least not the DT17 versions. You will see why below.]

The format would have actually been like the "Chicken Soup" thing I had written all the way in 2020. Free form, equally cringe.

Uh...that didn't happen. Obviously. And for some unknown reasons, because I was somewhat motivated and inspired during that time much better than now at least. So...sorry.

But what I did write, however, was the "intro" to this set of "interview stories"...which is the entire purpose I am saying all this context all of a sudden. It has been a while, and way too long since I last produced and published...something.

It is a very short story - not even a complete one - but it is one of the last things I did before I kind of...stopped. Everything.

I also wrote this on a train, too.)

[A very late tag, but I hope it is the thought that counts. Thank you for organising this wonderful event. Just watching/reading through others' works was already super awesome.]

@donro-week

Donro Week 2023 [July 23th ~ July 29th]

(Just a small note: Sentences/Words in italic mean they are not supposed to be caught on camera, but are caught on camera accidentally regardless.)

Dewey: (Dewey Dew-Night Intro!)

Dewey: "And joining us tonight are two birds of a feather you know very well, yet ALSO know NOTHING about! *Gasp!* How is that possible?! Go on, ask! How is that possible?!"

"......"

Huey: "What?"

Dewey: "Dude, you are supposed to ask out loud. We've talked about this."

Louie: "You...you were serious..."

Dewey: "When was I not serious? Actually, don't answer that. Just cooperate. Ask that aloud, c'mon."

Huey & Louie: "*Sigh* Oh my god, how is that possible?!"

Dewey: "Well, I dunno!"

*LOL!*

*Facepalm*

Dewey: "But we are about to find out! 'Cause joinin' us tonight is the greatest uncle of the universes...Donald Duck!"

Donald (Paperino): "Hi!...wait where even is the camera? That rectangular gadget on the stack of books?"

Dewey: "As well as the brightest mind in all Duckburgs, across space and time...Gyro Gearloose!"

Gyro (Archimedes): "H-hello...! Nice to meet you, people of the...uh...interweb? Internetwork? What was that again, modern Dewey?"

Dewey: "*chuckle* Well, pardon the old timers, you can say they might as well have come from the 20th century!"

*Laughter!*

Dewey: "And if you have guessed so, you are absolutely CORRECT! No prize though, sorry. Don't think they are only cosplaying..."

Paperino: "Cospl...what?"

Archimedes: "Just go along with it, honey..."

Dewey: "'Cause who you are seeing are literal time travellers! *Gasp!*"

Archimedes: "Well, technically, we are dimension trav-"

Dewey: "Thanks to this world's Gyro's now upgraded Time n' Space Tub™️..."

Huey: "Which he forbids you from entering a 20-metre radius around?"

Dewey: "...which I definitely have permission to enter a 20-metre radius around! Now! I bring you, Paperino and Archimedes Pitagorico! Donald Duck and Gyro Gearloose from another universe!"

*Fanfare! Applause!*

Dewey: "Stay tuned after the intermission for the exciting interview that ensues!"

Louie: "Wait, you literally haven't done anything yet-"

Dewey: "This is Dewford Dingus Duck, your beloved handsome host from Dewey Dew-Night! Don't forget to like n' subscribe! See ya!"

Louie: "Dude, you literally haven't done ANYTHING yet!"

Paperino: "Subscribe? Is this a newspaper or a magazine?"

Archimedes: "Wait, is this an interroga-"

*Recording cuts*

(11-7-2023)

[randomingoftherandomness]

Fic: 5 times Gege tops + 1 time Didi is on top

Tag: Gong Shangjue x Gong Yuanzhi

A/N: I kept hearing that Adventure Time 'Bacon Pancakes' song in my head lol

@dangermousie @xinxiaojie

Spicy Lemons, for new readers, is my way of saying that there will be smut ahead. So, as the title of this fic implies, Spicy Lemons ahead babbyyyyy 🌶️🍋 Enjoy!

--

- 1 - Move

He tastes like wine and kisses back with the fervour of a man whose inhibitions have been dulled by the spirits in his cup. Even with hazy eyes, flushed cheeks, and taking the stretch of three fingers in him, his didi still has bite.

"Good didi..." Shangjue coos, licking at the tears that glisten in the corner of Yuanzhi's eye. He feels his breath hitch where their sweat-slick chests are pressed together. He rolls his hips against the meat of Yuanzhi's thighs just to pull another sob out of him.

Perhaps the wine at the family banquet is hitting him stronger than usual. Perhaps he's an addict finally getting a fix. Or perhaps it's nothing at all and everything all at once, because when Yuanzhi begs for his kiss, he doesn't hesitate to obey.

Swallowing down the stuttering sobs that claw their way achingly between the scant spaces of their gasping breaths as he comes so beautifully at the curl of his fingers, Shangjue burns to consume his Yuanzhi whole.

They ride their high like that; three fingers pumping in and out with the slick of the lubricant, one hand holding Yuanzhi close while he paints his own ardour on the pale skin of his hip.

"More, gege... Please?"

Gods above, Shangjue adores him.

- 2 - Dream

Shangjue allows himself to sink into the pleasantness of a dream.

Yuanzhi didi, hair undone and splayed on the covers of their bed, plush lips spread around the girth of his cock as he rocks into the warmth and humid heat of his mouth. His tongue - oh! that excellent tongue - licks up a stripe on the underside, and he shivers at the thought of pressing in deep enough for Yuanzhi to start gagging.

"Ge..."

"Hm?"

The Yuanzhi between his thighs smiles, all teeth. Opening his mouth, he suckles on the tip of his cock. Hollowing his cheeks, rolling off laughing. Shangjue chuckles along. Playful, carding his fingers through Yuanzhi's hair.

"Ge..."

"Gege... Wake up..."

Shangjue startles upright. Taking stock of his surroundings, his fingers itch for the hilt of his sword. "What...?"

"Gege?" Yuanzhi mumbles from next to him. Rubbing the sleep at his eyes, he yawns. "Gege, what's wrong?"

They're in his room. This is his bed. This is his didi.

His didi, who is most certainly wearing nothing but a pair of sleep pants that have slithered down far enough that Shangjue can see the dark thatch of hair between his thighs and the root of his cock.

Shangjue feels a jolt of desire stir in his groin when Yuanzhi pushes himself upright with one arm. The expanse of his pale skin aglow in the stream of moonlight that cuts through the opening of the window.

"Ge?"

"It's nothing," Shangjue tries, only to be thwarted by the way Yuanzhi's sharp gaze catches the bulge in the front of his pants. He spies the moment hunger overtakes the need for sleep in Yuanzhi's eyes, and sighs around a huff of laughter.

"Come here."

- 3 - Promise

Yuanzhi is a mess.

Shangjue has lost count of the orgasms they've wrung out of each other, and frankly, at this point, he feels like it shouldn't matter.

No, it absolutely does not matter one bit.

The last one must have taken a toll on him because Yuanzhi doesn't even twitch when he pulls his aching cock out of his sloppy hole. Good... That's good, he thinks with a bone-deep exhaustion. Mustering enough of a coherency, he pulls on an outer robe, grating at the feel of the fabric on his over-sensitised skin, and goes to the front door of the hut to pull in the basket of supplies that has been left there.

Briefly he wonders who was the poor soul who was dispatched to do the task. Dimly, he wonders if they saw anything.

A spark of jealousy and possessiveness burns bright in the back of his mind. He flits through the thoughts of someone seeing the way Yuanzhi arches so sweetly to hold in all of his spend as he promises to put an heir in his belly, scarcely daring to imagine which whispered vow they must have heard -- was it the one where Shangjue had promised that Yuanzhi will be his one and only furen? or what is the one where he had crooned over how his didi was born to take his cock? How Yuanzhi had made him promise that he would be Shangjue's one and only come dump?

Or had it been the promise he had kissed into the sweat-matted crown of his didi's hair that once they had slaked their infernal thirst, he will wed him, honest and true, in front of their family.

Clarity slips in and out of his hands. The antidote to the Flowers of a Thousand Sun that they'd both been poisoned with is set to the side. He reaches in for the pot of unguent and the box of jade eggs instead.

He sheds his coat and climbs back into bed just in time to see didi stir.

- 4 - Sun-drenched

Shangjue presses forward in a smooth, practised glide. Guiding his cock with one hand, he tangles his other with Yuanzhi's, arching in to kiss at the pleased sighs that leave his cherry-red lips. The sight of him with the shadows of the midday sun dancing over his skin has him smiling.

Humming, he lets Yuanzhi chase his mouth, chuckling when he whines in displeasure at being denied. "Alright, alright, settle down."

Dark, fox eyes blink at him. The starting of a pout begins to form and Shangjue wonders if Yuanzhi ever did figure out what he does to him whenever he pulls that look; how he would absolutely pluck the moon out of the sky for him if that's what he wants?

He moves his hand up to hold Yuanzhi by the hip, rearranging their bodies a little so that Yuanzhi has his left leg securely hitched over Shangjue's waist, comfortably pressed against the tree they'd just been picnicking under.

Shangjue allows his mind to wander...

"Don't even think about it, Ge. My back still hurts from the last time we tried that."

Choking on his laughter, he shakes his head, knocking their brows together, darting in to kiss the tip of Yuanzhi's nose.

"Alright. We'll do it your way."

- 5 - Wedded

The record books will note for future generations to come that Gong Shangjue married a bride on a sunny winter's day.

Merriment and joy colour the mile of road that leads to Jue residence a deep red that snakes through the snow-draped landscape. It was as if spring had bloomed months early in Jiuchen Valley, breathing life back into the hibernating world.

She must be someone of importance, someone says.

She must be a beauty to have such a dowry, another whispers.

Whoever she is, she has caught Young Master Jue's eye, yet another declares.

When it comes time to guide the bride out of her palanquin, no one could have expect that Young Master Jue himself would come to carry her out and to cross the threshold with her.

And if the bride was a little taller than the groom when they make their bows to Heaven and Earth together, no one says a word about it.

No one sees the bride's face. Perhaps with deference to how Young Master Jue glares at anyone who even tries to steal a peek, or maybe it's more because the whole roster of elders in the Gong family seems to dare anyone to try, because no one - perhaps wisely so - takes them up on it.

What no one will write about is how that night, when the festivities die down to a drunken trickle, those who still linger around long enough would hear the sounds of lovemaking. The voices would speak lowly and with no end of familiarity with each other. For those who were still sober enough, they would hear a hoarse voice calling out to "Gege" while another voice replies over the sound of skin slapping against skin, "You should call me Xianggong instead."

And if one drunken uncle recalls the day after through the fog of a wicked hangover that he hadn't seen Gong Yuanzhi at the wedding of his beloved brother, no one remembers that at all.

- +1 - Yours

The kiss that precedes this is slow and unhurried, almost exploratory. Shangjue relaxes and allows Yuanzhi to take the lead.

There is no pressing matter to attend to. There is no family-ending disaster, no immediate danger to vanquish. Here, in this pocket of time, Shangjue luxuriates at the feel of Yuanzhi climbing onto his lap, straddling him skin to sleep warm skin.

"What's brought this on, hm?"

Yuanzhi laughs, pushing back his hair out of his face. The sound is bright in the morning hush of the room. Like a clear note of happiness that burns in the air around them. Shangjue cannot help but be caught up in it, chuckling along with him.

Running his fingers down the inside of a thigh, he reaches up for Yuanzhi's hand, tracing the tattoo on the inside of his wrist. The same one he has on his own -- a mark of their eternal vow to be one with each other.

"Furen, what do you propose we do today?" He asks, smiling up at Yuanzhi, basking in the way his heart swells at the sight of his beloved.

"Xianggong," Yuanzhi laughs, pretending to think about it while he lazily rolls their cocks together. "Shall we...?"

"Hm?"

With one swift roll, Shangjue twists them until he has Yuanzhi pressed breathlessly under him. Carefully, he kisses the space between Yuanzhi's brows. Slowly trailing his lips to his temple, marking the skin under his eyes, softly, worshipfully, kissing his way down the bridge of his nose. Laughing softly, Shangjue murmurs, "Furen."

“Xianggong.”

With a solemn sincerity, he lowers himself to press their faces cheek to cheek. “Didi…”

Yuanzhi tilts his face, bringing the corners of their lips in a slow drag. On an exhale, he shapes one word.

“Ge.”