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hyukascampfire · 2 months ago

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IT WIŁŁ COME BAC₭ ⠀,, k.th

it’s a small world. you knew this, but you came to really believe it when you ran into an old classmate at the grocery store on a snowy vacation. how strange is that? even more so when he shows up once more at the door of your cabin, frozen from the cold and needing your help. ִֶָ. ´-

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ㅤㅤ៶ㅤ ( 🗝️ ) ･ 6.9k

𝖕airings ˒ yandere!taehyun 𝑥 reader

ℊ ; smut ˒ thriller ˒ yandere

𝖜arnings ˒ dubcon!!, baby trapping, dark & yandere themes, taehyun has a warped view of the world, doggy, rough sex, mentions of breeding, stalking, he’s slightly off putting, possessiveness & jealousy… duh!, hard dom!taehyun, nasty freaky stuff, corruption but like not conventionally?, unprotected sex, mentions of not taking birth control, creampie, biting and hickeys, obsession, DDNE please read these and decide for yourself if you’re comfortable reading! let me know if i’ve missed any tags.

✎୭ ashlynn's note this one is a delicious gift from 🍵 anon!!! i’ve never gone this dark. IM KINDA NERVOUS. i really hope you like it!! please let me know if i miss any tags!

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

“Taehyun?”

The man turns around, brow pinched and eyes searching for who’d said his name. When those sharp, intelligent eyes land on you, familiarity passes over them. In the black, there’s a shine, and the shape of them softens into something else; something you’re more used to, on him.

“Hey,” he says. His arms are full of supplies and groceries. Knitting his strong brows together, he says, “What are you doing out here?”

You toss the chips you’d been grabbing before you noticed him into your cart. It falls with a crinkle down onto the mountain of other snacks just like it. You should probably pick up some real food, too. The others shouldn’t have made food your job. If it was up to you, the cabinets would be stuffed with an array of quick snacks. Cooking isn’t really your strong suit.

“I’m gonna spend a few nights at a cabin here with some friends. We wanted to find some snow, since it never snows back home,” you say, and then you laugh at the absurdity of finding someone from your hometown all the way out here. What are the odds of that? Especially since everybody graduated and scattered out into their own moving lives. “What are you doing out here?”

He reaches up to push his glasses up his nose, an easy smile on his lips. The sight of it brings back memories.

Taehyun and you had not been the closest in high school. You were in different crowds, and he kept to his own anyway. But the few times you two did interact, by some assigned group project or an incidental brief exchanging of words, he was nice enough.

He changed a lot, though. If someone were to ask you yesterday if you remember him from school, the image you would’ve imagined is at stark odds with the man standing in front of you now. Where the long, lanky limbs and unsure demeanor of a boy once was, there is now all the confidence of a man. The angles of him are sharper, more defined and chiseled. And, his shoulders… He’s gotten broader, too. The butterflies in your belly are strange; It’s strange feeling like this over a man you might not have looked twice at years ago. He wasn’t ugly by any means, back then. You just… had an eye out for other things. Your palate was different.

He answers, “Touché.” Stepping back, he lets another customer push their cart through the gap between you. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. What have you been up to? Back home for break? It seems like everybody from school moved on. It’s nice seeing someone from our class.”

It’s not an answer to your question, but the snow gear and thick jackets in his arms tell you enough. He’s seeking snow, too. Snow birding is really the only way that you might see snow, here. Snow really only ever comes to the mountain peaks. Speaking up over some storewide announcement that makes the bustle around you impossibly louder, you say, “Oh my god, right? That’s what I was just thinking.” You make your tone light—the kind of saturated sweetness that comes with small talk, all manufactured and stilted. It’s not necessarily awkward; you just are clumsy with this kind of conversation. You just ramble to fill the space. “I… Just have been working. Never went to school. Did I tell you that you look good? What have you been up to?”

For a moment, you think you see a glimpse of something… strange pass over his eyes. Something that makes you feel weird—one of those hair-rising feelings that you cannot explain, but feel innately to your core. A primal hunger being fed, a twitching of his lips, as though vindicated. It’s gone in nothing more than a blink of an eye, and barely even was there in the first place. You’ve got a mushy brain from driving all day, anyway. What a strange thing for your mind to make up, though.

“Nothing much. Work for me, too,” he says, shrugging. “Finally got the chance to get away from it, and decided to come out here.”

Another shopper comes shoving themselves between you. Clearly, your catching up is an obstruction on their very important, very urgent shopping trip. Taking the hint, you tell Taehyun, “I get it, believe me. But…” You gesture at your groceries. “I’ve gotta finish up shopping before everybody gets here. It was nice seeing you! I wish I could linger, really.”

He offers you an easy smile, letting his crossed arms fall away from his chest and shaking his head. “No big deal. I’ve got some stuff to pick up, too. Have a nice one, yeah? Don’t get caught in the blizzard, or anything.”

Snorting, you dip your head goodbye and say, “I’ll try not to.”

❅

The hardwood floors creak beneath your flustered pacing. “Are you serious? How long is it gonna be?”

“I’m sorry? I didn’t expect someone to slash our fucking tires?” Your friend’s voice cuts in and out through the speakers, one of the few hollow sounds in the cabin. Aside from you and the decor, it’s empty. “I’m sorry that you’re stuck out there, but there’s nothing we can do. You’re going to have to wait it out for a few days. At least until we can get there.”

Gritting your teeth, you give her a tactful Okay, bye, and thumb the big red button. The sound of the call ending echoes, too. Curling your arms around yourself, the whole place feels big and haunting. The howling of whipping wind and snow against the windows doesn’t help.

Someone had slashed their tires, and now you’re going to be here alone. For days. If being alone wasn’t already making knots of your belly, that was. It’s startling: going out of your way to slash someone's tires, but making no attempts at stealing the car or anything in it. Either it’s personal, or somebody just wanted to ruin somebody else’s day. Both leave a sour taste in your mouth.

Your every limb goes rigid at a thump, and in the corner of your eye, there’s movement. When you whip your head to look fully in that direction, all that moves in the window is snow like haze and the trees bending in the same violent wind. Nothing but night and the storm.

Beside yourself, you inch toward the window to look closer. Tugging a thick, willowy curtain to one side, you do a scan.

Sat in the snow, dusting over with heavy white flakes as you look, are a pair of glasses. You are not stupid enough to go out and get a closer look.

❅

With the fireplace roaring, the place doesn’t feel so empty.

You waited all day for the snow to stop coming down so hard. If you’re going to be alone here for days, you want to go out and spend the daylight away around other people.

Really, you just don’t want to be in this cabin all by yourself. You have a bad feeling. It;s unfounded, maybe. But you do.

The snow does not stop falling, and the wind does not stop blowing it into thick piles. It’s everywhere: the whole entire yard is coating thick with it, and so is your car. Could you even drive away in this, if you needed to? Maybe after thirty minutes of plowing snow. You’ve at least kicked enough of it away from the porch to open the door.

At some point, hope for doing anything but toiling around in here dwindled away. With what embers of excitement for vacation you have left, you tugged on some knitted socks and played Christmas classics off your phone.

You’re still playing them as you decide to cook something up. You’re not the best cook, but what do you have to lose? It’ll only be you eating it. If it goes awry, you’ve still got snacks to make into a meal.

The kitchen comes alive while you work. You tug out all the pots and pans that the cabin owners provide, clicking the stove on while you dance and hum along to the songs that you’d seemingly come out of the womb knowing. Pulling the fridge open to the song of Silver Bells, you decide on something ambitious and set ingredients out over the counters.

You don’t even get to slicing before there’s a knock at the door. Three very solid, very resounding knocks. The knife makes a clattering sound as you let it drop to the cutting board.

There shouldn’t be anybody out here. Maybe your friends got the car up and running, and forgot to let you know. Your heart thrums a wild, crashing beat, as you swipe your phone up to shoot a quick text.

At the top of a screen, a text comes in from an unknown number. Your belly does a frantic swoop, a thousand different thoughts swarming and shoving to be the one at the forefront of your mind.

+1 [678-999-8212]

Hey, it’s Taehyun.

+1 [678-999-8212]

I’m sorry if this is weird, but I’m the one who just knocked at your door. I wanted to hike up to my cabin but I’m lost as hell right now, and recognized your car outside

+1 [678-999-8212]

Thought it would be better to ask you for help instead of a random.

You take a moment to blink at the glow of the screen. Taehyun was the one knocking on your door? That both settles you and kicks up more questions. What are the odds that you both rented out cabins from the same people? The world is small; you’re reminded that a lot, these days.

Sliding your phone into your back pocket, you head for the door. He’s got to be freezing. It’s coming down hard out there.

The door swings open to Taehyun’s face just as frost-glazed as you expected. His jaw chatters and his nose and cheeks are a deep, winter-pink. Despite it, his mouth pulls into a friendly smile—the kind that illustrates in the humorous corners that he is aware of the absurdity of his situation, as well. He keeps his hands tucked into his pockets, a thick winter jacket zipped up to the top dusted at the shoulders with fat snowflakes just the same as on top of his coal-black hair.

“Oh my god,” you say. A laugh seeps through the cracks. “I’ve got the fireplace going hot. Do you wanna come in? How long have you been out there?” Stepping to one side, you offer him entry into your home. Temporary home, that is.

He tries to rein in the shivers, you can see it in the smile he’s got plastered on his face and the way he buzzes and trembles around the edges like the bitter cold is trying to push against his skin and escape him. “If it doesn’t bother you,” he says, stepping in past you. When he passes, thick in the air, he smells like smoke and the dark woods—it’s musky and familiar, but also haunting in the way that the wilder edges of a forest could be.

He smells nice. Really nice. The kind of blend of manly musk and cologne that makes a woman look twice. It makes you look twice as he passes, at least.

Him standing there now, eyes roving over the cabin’s wood walls and the knitted blankets and the fire whispering from the living room, you realize how strange it is to be here with an old classmate that you haven’t seen for at least three years. How awkward it is.

“It doesn’t bother me at all. You did scare me a bit, though,” you say, shooing the wispy chill away with a close of the door. “I’d rather you not freeze to death out there. It’s, like, ten degrees.” You tuck your arms across your chest. “What made you go hiking in this? It’s been nasty today. I haven’t even been able to leave.”

His cheek twitches with a dimple. Even back in school, you noticed that. Then, it’d fit right into his face. Now, it’s a delicious contrast against his angled face. “Sorry I scared you. I knew it’d be weird, but… Yeah, I was freezing out there. I seriously thought I was going to die.” Hair brushes over his eyes, their cunning and sharpness something that draws you in. Like two swirling, black pools of swirling water, they beckon you in a way that you can’t quite digest. “It wasn’t too bad down by the car, and I didn’t know there was a whole damn trail up here, so I… yeah. It got bad.”

Snorting, you nod. “I bet.” You’re not sure what else to say; your mind freezes over in an impermeable frost. You tap around with a pick to try and find words, but there’s no getting through it. You hardly know him. What do you talk about? What are you going to talk about, considering the fact that he’s no doubt going to be here for some time? Until it stops blizzarding so hard outside, at least.

Charging through the tense moment with a brassiness that you do not remember him carrying back then, Taehyun nods a gesture toward the kitchen and the dinner you’d been in the middle of making. “Making something?” he says. The low, warm light of the cabin washes over him and make his face something cozier than it’d been standing frozen at your front door. It also makes a show of the angles of his cheek as it turns, and the tall line of his nose. Something on him is missing. You can’t capture the notion or put your finger on it, but somewhere in the depths of memory, you feel like there was something there that isn’t here with him now. Maybe it’s a different styling of his hair from the last time you saw him, wind-swept as it is now. Or maybe you’re just stir-crazy.

“Yeah.” You nod, watching in place as he ventures into the kitchen. Narrowing your eyes down, you try to pinpoint the thought. Is it something small? A pair of earrings? “I was gonna cook up something warm for dinner, but I’m not the best cook. I don’t burn anything, but… it’s never great, you know?”

Taehyun tugs his jacket off his arms, and you confirm that it’s not a certain jacket or something. “I’ll help,” he says, discarding the heavy thing. “Make myself useful.”

“Oh!” you say, bringing your hands together in realization. “Are you not wearing your glasses? Holy shit, I’ve been staring at you thinking something was wrong, but I couldn’t tell what it was.”

He furrows his brows, corners of his mouth twitching. The look passes over his face in nothing more than a split-second, before something else plasters over it. He crinkles his nose and says, “Huh. I didn’t even notice…” The knife you’d left to let him in glints as he picks it up to assume where you’d left off. “Didn’t you say that you were here with some friends? Is everybody asleep already?”

You trace the lines of his face where those brown glasses had rested the last time you’d seen him. He must’ve forgotten them in his cabin this morning, or something, before he went out. You grab a pot and fill it over the sink for noodles. “Actually, they all got caught up back home. It’s literally just me here for days. I’ve been so bored.” Over your shoulder, you add, “I’m just making some fettuccine and chicken.”

“Caught up?” he says, voice casual and occupied. The sound of the knife against the cutting board as he slices follow his words.

“Yeah. Someone messed their car up bad… Like, knife to the tires and the windows were smashed in all over the seats. It was fucking terrifying.” Clicking the stove on, you set the pot to boil.

Taehyun doesn’t answer for a few minutes. You look over your shoulder and find him working in the chicken still. He answers, his eyes dragging up to you for a quick moment before making sure he doesn’t cut a finger off, “Did they steal anything?”

Turning to him fully as you wait for the water to bubble and turn over, you say, “That’s the weird thing. They didn’t steal or anything, they just fucked it up and… left.”

“Huh,” he says, furrowing his strong brow down at his working hands. “Yeah, that’s weird. That’s some personal shit. Maybe someone had a shit day.” The end comes out around a breathy laugh.

“Yeah, maybe.” You crack open the cardboard flaps and pour the noodles into the pot. “Still… scary.”

Taehyun takes over the cooking, and you’re happy to entrust dinner to him. He works diligently, and the sight of his back as he stirs and chops and seasons—it’s mouth-watering. This way, you can fully admire him as he does. You’re not much help, anyway. Instead, you just start the gentle hum of Christmas music once more and stay out of his way.

It’s nice to have somebody here. The howling of the wind and the echoing of your own movements back to you has started to become haunting. Maybe having Taehyun here is a bit unconventional, and it really should be your friends here with you, but having him here is the better outcome than some creep being the one knocking at your door. It’s nice to have him here in case that does happen, too.

It’s not like he’s bad company, or anything, either.

When the entirety of the cabin is full with the smell of warm dinner and your conversation, you swoop back in to offer help with something you can manage. Stepping beside him, indulging in his rich scent once more, you plate the dinner he’d made for you. Steam dances up from it and beckons your tastebuds. “You’re, like, a Michelin chef. What the hell? Thank you.”

He doesn’t answer, and in the corner of your eye, you catch his knuckles going white around the counter’s edge where he leans his weight into the arm. Frowning, you go to look up at him.

It leaves his face when you catch it, but you find him looking down at you… different again. Darker, as though the pupils at the center have grown hungry and eaten up the chocolate there. You think you see his jaw tightening and a hard swallow bobbing in his throat, too. His face is so close like this, you can see the plush turn to his lips and the darkness beneath his eyes, and even the chap of his lips.

Flustering, you take a step back and do your work there. You’d stepped way too close to him. Does he think you’re weird? You’ve always been the type with a scarce personal bubble; you forget that others don’t work the same.

“It’s nothing much,” he finally says. It’s cool and collected once more. “I make this all the time. It’s one of my favorites.”

Handing him his plateful, the chicken glistening with glaze and the noodles a swirl of cream and garnish, you say, “You’ll have to write down the recipe for me, or something. I totally want to make it for myself.”

Accepting it with another easy grin, he says, “Yeah, sure.” He forks a bit of chicken off the plate.

The smile does not reach his eyes.

❅

The longer you look at it, the worse the feeling gets. Black and scrawled in wobbling lines, jagged and dark in places where he’d gone over a line a few times, you just… feel like you’ve seen it all before. It’s a smokey, tainted memory, far-off and obscured no matter how you squint your eyes.

Why do you remember it? Why does the sight of it crawl like dread under your skin and wilt? Sure, you went to school with Taehyun, but you don’t really think recognizing his handwriting should feel like this. Who even pays attention to the handwriting of somebody you interacted with once or twice, anyway?

God. You are dramatic. You kick your legs out of the comforter, swelteringly thick and quilted with a gaudy winter pattern of reds and browns and whites, and fold up the paper to place it on the darkwood bedside table.

The click of you flicking the white switch on echoes off the bathroom’s tiled walls. You reach for your toothbrush on the counter, and then the world goes dark around you.

You freeze, eyes frantically blinking and straining against the blackness to adjust. The power had gone out. There’s a few beats of you stricken in place, toothbrush in hand, thrown for a loop.

Then, the whole cabin goes out as the power to the heater dies, too. You swear.

Your journey down the hallway is a stumbling of legs and the grooves of the wood-paneled walls against your fingertips. It’s the pitch black of night out here, too. The only thing you can see is the static that fills up the gaps when it’s dark. “Taehyun?” you say. Is he asleep already? You don’t even know where the room he’d taken for the night is, relative to where you are now.

Nothing answers you for a few moments, and then from an opening door, light floods like a miracle. The shape of him, the light from his phone’s flashlight just enough to dimly illuminate his features, comforts you. His hair is ruffled, like he’d just drug himself from bed.

“Power went out,” he says. It’s awfully loud, now that you two are the only sounds in here.

“Yeah, I think I just had a little heart attack. I was up brushing my teeth.” Why hadn’t you thought to use your phone’s light? “The heater… We’re gonna freeze to death. Do you think they have a generator, or something? The fireplace doesn’t really do much…”

He features glow in as he moves the phone. “Mine didn’t. It’s fine, my room’s got a fireplace in it. We can close the door and get it warm in there.”

“Better than nothing,” you say, shrugging and following him in.

You plop on his bed, the surface of it cold and plush, while he works on kindling a fire. “This is, like, nowhere near where I thought I’d be for vacation.”

He readjusts the logs, dry and perfect for burning, into a point. Poking and prodding, Taehyun says, “Not having fun?”

You snort at the dry and flat delivery. “Friends haven’t even gotten back to me, I’m snowed in, and I’m locked in here with a total stranger.” You draw out the last word as a joke, your smile painting the tone playful, but it’s the truth. You don’t know Taehyun one bit. It’s just as strange and unpredictable as the other things on the list of things that have gone awry. “I guess I had a good dinner, so I can’t be complaining too much.”

Curling up to his full height, he takes a knee and settles into the bed beside you. “Make some room for this stranger, won’t you? We should probably try to use our body heat.”

Laughing, you go to say something to rift off his joke. It dies in your throat when he doesn’t join you. In an awkward sort of panic, you wince and say, “Yeah, it’s cold as hell. We’re gonna freeze to death in our sleep.”

And, ridiculously, you crawl under the covers. You don’t know why you do it; maybe it’s because he’s completely serious and watching you, or maybe because it’s true that you might actually get so cold in your sleep that you die if you don’t. Either way, you do. You don’t know which way to settle: facing him or with your back turned to him. Both are strange, but which is stranger?

Facing him, you decide that turning your back to him just doesn’t settle in your soul right.

“Weird night,” he says, sliding himself under the blanket’s covering. The same blanket that you lay in. “But…” he says, eyes flickering over you laid there. He looks as though he’s going to say something else, but he decides against it. “Good night.”

He does you a favor and turns his back to you.

❅

Night still holds the world in its claws when your eyes flutter open.

You shift to try and find that perfect position that’ll lull you back into sleep, slipping your legs over the sheets and shifting your cheek against your arm and wiggling your hips against the solid pressure behind you.

The pressure behind you. Stilling, your eyes fly open.

The weight of Taehyun behind you, his chest rising and falling, and the warmth of him, pierce through sleep’s haze like a white-hot knife. You’re all the way on his side of the bed, pressing your bottom into him. Shame creeps its wicked way from your chest and then out through your skin, blazing the skin of your cheeks. You push up on an elbow to scoot back to your side of the bed as slow and covertly as you can manage.

Fingers like teeth, biting the skin of your waist, stop you. Your heart jumps.

“Don’t move.” Taehyun’s breath and words curl out over the juncture of your neck like a chill. He lets you sit in that for a moment, your heart thumping like a frightened bird in a cage, before he says, “It’s weird. Weird that when I suggested you sleep in my bed, you looked so nervous. But, look where you are now.”

Your voice comes out strangled. “I’m sorry.”

When his palm slides down from your waist to brush over your belly, you begin to think that it’s not an apology that he wants. Your stomach does untamed dips and rolls. It’d been the cold that you were afraid of, but now it’s the blistering heat that blooms where his touch goes that grips you.

“That didn’t take very long.” Like a trail of growing, raging fire, he takes that hand and brings it down the lengths of your body. Over your hip, and then down the supple curve of your ass, and then down the back of your thighs, where he toys with the notion of slipping it between the seam there. “It never did take much for you to give those men your body. Give them what was mine. Don’t worry, I’ll make it right. I’ll make you right.”

Your mind turns over itself, a thousand stray, blinding thoughts bursting at the seams and all asking for your attention. You don’t know which to start with; you don’t have the slightest clue what he means. Asking any of them out loud seems absurd, and the notion crumbles to dust when he brings his arm down your front to cup your heat.

“Face in the bed, ass up.” He commands it in your ear like ice: absolute and biting. “It’s how you like it, isn’t it?”

Doggy is how you like it. You don’t know how Taehyun would know that. What you do know, though, is the way the simple words kindle hungry fire in your cunt. Dragging yourself from the heat of the mattress in a bleary, glazed-over mess of limbs, you paint yourself into an obscene picture: your cheek presses into the mattress, blazing with disbelief, your eyes wide and gone and the mess of your hair obscuring them, and your back the delicate arch of sex and sinfulness as you display your ass high in the air for him.

When you look at him to see how he likes it, you don’t find the man that you saw in the grocery store, nor the man that you let into your cabin. The look you find, vacant and overflowing with an untamed hunger, raises the hair on your skin. It’s off.

“Taehyun,” you say. It’s really just to speak—you don’t have words.

He runs a hand down the curve of your back. His voice comes from behind you, now. “This should’ve been just mine. But you never did look my way, did you?” Your body jumps when his hands find your hips and the fabric in the way of your skin there. Hooking his thumbs under both the waistband of your bottoms and your panties, he drags them down your thighs in a slow crawl. Each inch of blazing skin bared to the air tingles against the cold and under his gaze as you feel his eyes eat it up.

That’s what his eyes do: they eat and they eat, taking up the space around them like ever-hungry blackholes until there is nothing but their absence of light and their heaviness. That was the pull you remember in the store—a force like gravity beckoning a perverse finger at you and leaving you nowhere to go but toward him.

He pulls the fabric until it’s bunched at your knees. Prodding a finger, just the very end of it, at your hole. You flutter around it, belly turning. “Why didn’t you look my way?” he asks. The rustling of him working on his pants has you twitching and shifting hot against the covers.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You’re only able to choke out the words, heart jumping up into your throat as he takes his hand up your back, pins and needles following his path and pushes your head into the mattress by the back of the neck.

Breath hot over your cheek, he says, “Is this what you want? To be fucked like an animal?” You know he means the position. Your mouth goes dry. “You’re better than that. But, if it’s what you like, I’ll fuck you like it.”

You have a thought. It’s fleeting and fuzzy like the rest of your mind, but you catch it just long enough to turn it over once. When you’d seen Taehyun, you were struck by how he looked more like the kind of guy you might go after than the lanky, off-putting one you remember. And, now he’s set on how you like to get fucked.

The tip of his cock at your entrance sends the thought to smoke and the aftermath clogs your cognitive function. Your mouth falls open as he presses some inches in, slow and enriching. But then he pulls the slight length out to collect some slick and tap his cockhead to your clit. You jolt against the sheets.

When he slides back in this time, he makes sure to brush your hair out of your face to watch every last inch of you taking him reflected in the furrowing of your brows and the glassiness of your eyes and the pink of your cheeks.

He stills when he reaches the hilt, his hips flush to your ass, his shadow falling over you as he leans to bring his ear to your mouth. “You should’ve looked my way. Things could’ve been so different. It’s okay—I’ll make you realize. I know who you really are. I’ll wash this all away and clean you up and make you good again.”

He doesn’t leave space for words or thought. Not enough for you to taste the rust like rot over his iron words. Planting his heels on the bed and shoving your face further into the bed, he starts his hips in a rhythm that has your breaths stuttering and achy wines clawing out from the prison of your chest. He does not move precisely, nor is the bucking of his hips pointed, but it’s a crashing sort of ruin. It doesn’t matter if he finds that spot inside of you. He’s going to consume your every sense: he steals the taste in your mouth and replaces it with himself, steals your hearing with his pants and grunts, steals your sight as his cock twists your insides up, and steals your ability to feel anything but him. He steals your breath, too. Just as a wicked little souvenir.

“Hhh—fuck, Taehyun, holy shit,” you say. A procession of crude and mewled cries come tumbling out your mouth after your words. No matter now you filter your sounds to try and maintain your decency, he just drags them from you anyway.

Bringing his hand up to splay his hand over the entirety of the back of your head rather than the delicate back of your neck, he grits out, “Filthy-fucking-mouth.” He punctuates the words with a hollow smack of his skin against your ass. It’s the sound of sex incarnate—your skin burns hearing it clashing against the rest of your debased sounds. “And it’s just for me, now. Isn’t that fucking great? None of those vile pigs are gonna touch what’s mine again. Not after this. You—” His voice tightens when a certain spot he nudges in your cunt sends it clinging to him and sucking him back in at every return. “You were really testing the limits to my patience. Do you know that?” He drags his hand over your face, smearing obscenity over you with just his tainted touch. “Of course you fucking don’t. You don’t notice shit. It’s why you let this world walk all over you. It’s why you need me.”

As hard and fast as he fucks you, he doesn’t exchange full strokes for it. He pulls completely out of you each time he snaps his hips back, and then meets your ass in burning collisions when he slips his cock right back into you. You struggle for breath, trying to feed your oxygen-starved brain to contend with his snarled preaching. Never once do you catch a full chest of air, though. It turns your thoughts liquid, stupid and simple. “Taehyun—Taehyun,” you say, throat tight. The sheets are stifling against your clammy skin, and the hair around your neck is damp. You take fistfuls of the bunches fabric and his other hand on your hip to ground yourself.

You are beyond grounding. All that floats in your head, one bare thought, is the beginnings of terrifying tightness in your lower belly. Only the sharpest things shove through the shadow permeating your mind. Nip. Bite. He drags his teeth over the soft curves of your shoulders and the expanse of your back. Anywhere he can reach, really. His mouth paints you in aching splotches—the kind that will speak of him should anybody other see your body. The kind that speaks already of who they belong to. You eyes and throat burn.

Taehyun brings that hand he’d been molding into the fat of your hip and curls the muscle-corder forearm across both of your hip bones. A bar. A cage. His solid chest works similarly as he blankets himself over you, speaking into your wild tousle of hair. “Fuck–Gonna cum now.” The friction of his cock against your walls becomes something more unpredictable. The tightening of that knot, just on the verge of a snap that might reverberate through you and crush you into nothing more than bitten flesh and eroded virtue, sits on the horizon. It’s a terrifying thing to be rushing toward. “A—and then they’ll realize that you’re mine. They’ll never put their goddamn hands on you again. Not when your body will have me written all over it.” You can hear the tightness of his gritted jaw, the words seething like black, festering corruption. They fall over your skin and taint you, too. No longer do you shake and tremble against him with innocent little squeaks. Gilt with his words as he speaks them, your body stiffens and your cries go hoarse and pitiful. You try not to think about how you sound. “Isn’t it so good? We’re perfect together. You’re perfect underneath me. Do you know how many—how many times I fucked my fist thinking about you like this? All I ever wanted was for you to realize that we are so much better than the rest of them. It’s always meant to be us. Why did you let them touch you? Dirty your skin?”

All you manage is a heaved cry. He pins you to the mattress and begins fucking you into it. In the black of your eyelids, you watch purity go to dust.

“Take my load, baby. Stay still,” he says. His voice goes soft, like whispers. Like he’s gotten everything he’s wanted, now.

You squirm beneath the weight of him, hips reining against the arm he holds you there by the hips with. Alarm bells ring, booming and thunderous, but in this state of mind, they sound like the music of climax. To the beat of the bells and his hips, blazing through your reddened bottom and your utter inability to breathe, you go tumbling toward that terrifying release.

Taehyun’s steadfast pace stutters. “It’s okay,” he tells you, clearing your clammy face of hair once more. His face is right in yours, his eyes heavy and consumptive. “Just let it happen. I’m gonna breed you up, and then it’ll be forever. We’ll be forever. Can’t let you get away again. Not when I’ve got you now. I need you to take it. Can you do that for me?”

Managing one last mhm, all your sounds catch in your throat. You stop meeting halfway, muscles twisting and turning and raging against the profound, terrible wash of it. Eyes flying open, your cunt clings to him, insides fluttering and rippling in a way that begins delightfully, but toes the line of dreadful as his cock continues to tighten them further. Lightning strikes from your core, crawling and crackling from it. It moves your thighs, convulsing them in tandem with the same release wreaking havoc in your stomach.

Cursing low in your ear, he fucks you frantically, fingers planted on your hips. His cock twitches against you a few times, and then the arm he’s supporting himself on collapses down to the elbow and he’s pinning you and shooting white-hot cum right into you. Your shoulder takes the imprint of his cheek as he nips the shoulder he hangs over. His hips twitch, rolling to ride out his high with deep, chesty groans, and then jumping up to spurt a little bit more into you. His panted breaths fall against your skin like fire.

You blink bleariness away from your eyes. For a few long minutes, that’s all you do. Your chest races so much so that you feel the pulse in your neck and the thumping of it where it rests. Your insides are liquid and intangible, blood slow just as slow as your thoughts.

When reality seeps back through your veins, though, Taehyun’s tugging his chest from your sweaty meeting of bodies. His fingers dig right into the reddened skin where his hips had abused your bottom to hold you open. To view you, and the slow oozing of his seed from your hole. The weight of his gaze sends you fluttering. With the movement of your hole, more of the hot and thickness comes seeping out, slow like molten passion down the shape of your slit and then over your clit and then dripping down onto the bed from you.

The feel of it has you swallowing hard. Holy shit, you are stupid. So painfully stupid. So, you’re just letting men cum inside while you’re not on birth control, now? Ones that you haven’t seen since school? Ones that talk like… that?

Tapping your thigh and pressing a hot kiss to your outer hip, Taehyun says, “I’m gonna go check the breakers. You take it easy here for a second.”

Whiplashed, you nod. There goes that pristine, normal mask again. You watch him go, heaving yourself up from the nasty bedding to be greeted by the musk of sex humid in the air. You think a thousand little thoughts, watching the wall as you go far away in your mind.

Everything that he said… That was not just a little weird, or a little kinky. It was bone-chilling. The taste in your mouth, still tainted by him, sours.

You pull out your phone. Pressing it to your ear, your blood runs sluggish still.

The cabin owner’s voice comes staticky through the speakers, asking you what you need help with. You ask about the power outage and where the breaker might be, debriefing him on Taehyun ending up here because he wasn’t able to make it to his own cabin, and how you think that the storm outside might be why the power’s gone out.

The cabin owner’s answer makes you pale.

It’s not a crashing realization. Not a thundering storm reaching its climax, nor a firework plasma and explosive at its center but flashy as it sparkles, nor a searing knife to the gut. It’s a slow, dreadful feeling, sinking to the depths of the ocean with a weight around your ankle and the realization that there is no getting back to the surface. It is drowning with water in your lungs, knowing that you swallowed that water down.

You know why you recognize that hand writing, and you know why Taehyun was missing his glasses, and you know why he had your number even though you have no connections, and you know why he was able to find your cabin by your car despite never having seen it, and you know why your friends never made it here. He, long and spindly legged, the spider, did not even panic when you grazed by the hints toward what he really was. You were all ready in his web, anyway. All he had to do was wait it out and watch you, caught, oblivious, squirm. And, squirm you did.

“What other cabin?”

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

✎୭ ashlynn's note AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! i’m sorry this one came out later, i had to make that ending tie up well.

﹙📋﹚ @hmusunoo , @izzyy-stuff , @beomiracles , @joycelyjjj , @sunoolver , @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @apeachty , @fandomtrashsblog , @bewitchless , @yezzns2 , @hhoneyhan , @ethystclove , @darkdayelixer , @calumcxke , @biteyoubiteme , @bamgeutsz , @soobabby , @little-shiny-starr , @bambammtori , @bunniebun-posted , @heeambi , @bunnisoobin , @hwanghyunjinismybae , @bakugosbottombitch , @304files , @cherricola-star , @lickingan0rchid , @ashistrashhhhhh , if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

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iamgonnagetyouback · 5 months ago

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can you please please please write more for mattheo riddle x potter!reader. maybe the family going to one of harry’s games, accompanied by reader and mattheo? (maybe featuring the marauders?) i’d love to read anything, it doesn’t even have to be this!! hope you have a great night :)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ quidditch matches

synopsis: ever since mattheo started tagging along with your family, he's made it his mission to annoy harry at every opportunity. so when he joins you all to watch harry’s quidditch match, he somehow ends up charming the entire crowd—much to harry’s absolute misery content warnings: minor harry slander, and excessive smugness from mattheo find more of these three here ￫ ୨ৎ (coming soon....)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 1,180

It was one of those rare, crisp days at Hogwarts where the skies were clear, and the breeze was just right. The perfect day for Quidditch—or at least, that’s what your brother Harry would say if he weren’t busy being a massive diva about the whole thing.

The stands were packed with students from every House, cheering, waving banners, and clapping in anticipation of the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match. And to make the occasion even more dramatic than usual, your parents, James and Lily, had shown up, along with Sirius, Remus, and Peter, all seated proudly in the stands, ready to cheer Harry on.

Unfortunately for Harry, you had brought along a certain Slytherin boyfriend of yours—Mattheo Riddle.

“Merlin’s beard,” Harry groaned under his breath, glancing up at the stands where Mattheo had already worked his charm on the crowd. “Why did you bring him?”

You shrugged, a smirk playing on your lips. “Well, he wanted to support you.”

Harry snorted. “Support? Please, he’s just here to make me miserable.”

You glanced at Mattheo, who had somehow managed to get half the Hufflepuff supporters waving at him and even Remus giving him an approving nod. “He’s being perfectly nice. Maybe you’re the one being dramatic.”

Harry threw you a look that said he was this close to throwing himself off his broom. “Dramatic? I’m not dramatic. He’s just—ugh, why is he even waving at people?”

Sure enough, Mattheo was leaning casually against the railing of the Gryffindor stands, flashing a charming smile at anyone who passed by. Every few minutes, he waved, winked, or nodded at a student, causing a flurry of giggles and whispers.

“He’s not supposed to be the center of attention!” Harry muttered furiously, his grip tightening on his broom. “This is my game!”

You patted his shoulder in mock sympathy. “Don’t worry, Harry. Everyone still knows you’re the main attraction.”

“Barely,” he huffed.

Down in the stands, Sirius barked out a laugh, clapping Mattheo on the back. “You’ve got style, kid,” he said, clearly approving of Mattheo’s ability to woo an entire Quidditch crowd without even trying.

“Thanks, Sirius,” Mattheo replied, throwing an arm around you as you sat next to him. “Just here to support my favorite team, after all.”

Harry, overhearing from the pitch, yelled, “Gryffindor is not your favorite team, Riddle!”

Mattheo only grinned and gave him a two-fingered salute, causing Harry to grumble and fly off toward his team.

Remus leaned over to James and muttered, “He’s got quite the influence, doesn’t he?”

James laughed. “He’s a slippery one, that’s for sure. But if he’s got Lily’s approval, who am I to argue?”

Lily, who had been watching Mattheo’s interaction with you, gave a knowing smile. “I think he’s good for her. Keeps things interesting.”

Sirius waggled his eyebrows. “If Harry doesn’t throw him off a broom first.”

The whistle blew, and the game began. But the match wasn’t the only source of entertainment that day.

Every time Harry swooped in for a save, Mattheo would cheer—loudly. “Go on, Potter!” he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. “That’s my future brother-in-law!”

Harry nearly lost control of his broom at that, swerving dangerously to avoid a Bludger. “Future brother-in-law?” he shouted, his voice shrill. “Absolutely not!”

The Hufflepuff Seeker zipped past him while Harry was distracted, and you couldn’t help but bury your face in your hands in secondhand embarrassment.

Sirius howled with laughter. “He’s really got Harry rattled!”

“Not to mention the Hufflepuffs,” Peter added with a chuckle. “Look at them. They’re more focused on Mattheo than their own game.”

It was true. Several Hufflepuff players kept sneaking glances at Mattheo, who was now waving at them enthusiastically, giving them a thumbs-up and shouting words of encouragement like he was their biggest fan.

“RIDDLE!” Harry’s voice echoed across the pitch, and he shot a death glare at Mattheo, who was absolutely thriving in the attention.

Mattheo leaned back in his seat, hands behind his head, and winked up at the sky as though Harry’s rage fueled him. “Doing great, Potter!” he yelled, entirely too pleased with himself.

When the match finally ended, Gryffindor won by a hair’s breadth, mostly thanks to Harry’s furious speed after seeing Mattheo charm his way through half the match. The second his feet hit the ground, Harry stormed over to you and Mattheo, his broom still in hand.

“You,” Harry said, pointing an accusatory finger at Mattheo. “You are the most distracting person in the world.”

Mattheo, unfazed, smirked. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It’s not!” Harry spluttered, his voice rising to that familiar, high-pitched squeak of frustration. “You—you made the Hufflepuffs fall for your stupid charm! And you kept shouting things about being my brother-in-law!”

Mattheo shrugged, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Just manifesting the future, Potter. You know how it is.”

“No, I do not know how it is!” Harry snapped. “And stop manifesting things!”

You tried to hold back a laugh, patting Harry on the arm. “Come on, Harry, he was just cheering you on.”

“Cheering me on?” Harry repeated, looking at you incredulously. “He’s a Slytherin! He’s supposed to be evil and plotting things, not—this!” He gestured wildly at Mattheo, who was now sharing a victory fist-bump with Sirius.

“Well, mate,” James said, clapping a hand on Harry’s shoulder as he walked over, “he’s certainly got style. Reminds me of me back in the day.”

Harry looked at his father, horrified. “Dad, don’t encourage him!”

James just laughed, ruffling Harry’s already wild hair. “Relax, kid. He’s not so bad.”

“Not so bad?” Harry echoed, looking around at his family, all of whom seemed perfectly content with Mattheo tagging along. “Am I the only one who sees what’s happening here?”

Lily smiled warmly. “Harry, he’s good for her. You’ll see.”

Harry groaned, defeated, dragging a hand down his face. “I don’t understand this family.”

Mattheo grinned, pulling you closer as your parents walked ahead. “You’re just mad because I stole your spotlight today.”

Harry glared. “No, I’m mad because you exist.”

Mattheo laughed, a deep, genuine sound that made you roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Get used to it, Potter. I’m not going anywhere.”

With a final groan, Harry shook his head and trudged off to join the rest of the family, muttering to himself about how this had to be some kind of cosmic joke. You couldn’t help but laugh as Mattheo, walked beside you, his charm having worked its magic on everyone except your very, very grumpy brother.

“Harry’ll warm up to me eventually,” Mattheo said confidently, as if it were inevitable.

You smiled up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Or he’ll keep trying to hex you every chance he gets.”

“Ah, it’s all part of the fun,” Mattheo said with a wink. “Besides, I’ve got the rest of the Potters on my side. What’s one grumpy Chosen One?”

Harry, hearing that from a few feet away, let out another dramatic groan. “Merlin, why me?”

Somehow, you knew life was only going to get more interesting from here.

#⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ivy writes ༄.°#mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #potter family #potters #harry potter #potter!reader #divider by anitalenia

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annerbhp · 6 months ago

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If you would but indulge this fandom elder for a few moments, I'd like to point out a few things that I think can make all of our fannish experiences on this hellsite (affectionate) so much more joyful.

Try not to treat yourself or others as "content-providers."

This happens when you allow yourself to be influenced by real or imagined expectations and demands of others. "But I know people want..." "But people would expect me to..." "But they might not like it if I..." "It's been too long since I've written/posted anything..." "What if people get upset if I..." These are the joy killers. The only questions you should ask yourself when posting stuff to tumblr (or not) is "does this bring me joy right now?" and "would this cause harm?" That's it. You can also tag liberally so people can block stuff if they want. That's also a nice thoughtful thing to do. But try not to let the nebulous concept of "people"--your followers, your readers, the internet at large, or whatever--become a bogeyman in your own head. Most of us already have enough internal critics trying to trip us up at any given moment. Try not to invent more.

Treating others as "content-providers" happens if you send asks or comments to someone on this site demanding more content of a specific type, or insinuating that you are entitled to something from that person. You are communicating to that person that they only have value as a content-provider, and only when providing whatever it is you want. This is dehumanizing and ignores the thousands of reasons that person might choose to be here. Tumblr is not a subscription service. No one is paying for anything here. Most people here are just doing stuff that makes them joyful and we are lucky enough that sometimes they share it with us too!

2. Fandom is not a marriage.

The concept of "being in a fandom" is actually incredibly nebulous, as it should be! There is nothing you need to do or declare to be "in a fandom." There is no minimum threshold of love, or time, or interaction, or "production." It's just a feeling. A place. A space that brings joy. (And sometimes, heartbreak, but that's another topic all together.)

Fandom is also not a marriage. You can't cheat on a fandom. You do not have to have formal divorce proceedings and let go of one fandom before messing around with another one. There's no such thing as fandom infidelity. Neither is fandom a job. You don't have to give two weeks' notice. You don't have to post public intent on the town hall. You're not banned once you step out, never to return. You can "take a break" without any moral implications or risk of becoming the focus of a pop culture debate about whether or not you were justified to mess around with another fandom during that time. You can leave a fandom and never go back, all without having to consciously decide to do so. You can fall out of love with a fandom and then fall back in love with it later. It's not a marriage/job! There are no rules!

3. Take ownership and curate your own experience.

If there is a thing, or a blog, or a person who once brought you joy, but on balance no longer does, or makes you more disappointed or annoyed or upset than not, you do not have to keep interacting with them/it. Following someone on tumblr is also not a marriage. You can follow/unfollow as you like, no harm, no foul. It's just curating your personal joy, and I hope we will always wish each other the best with that. If you are scared of "missing out on something," then you will either need to block tags enough to make it enjoyable, or decide unfollowing is worth the risk if it makes you too unhappy to keep following!

The ultimate thing is, it's up to you to curate your fannish experience. It is not up to the person you are following to change to fit your expectations or hopes. (See point #1.) You can feel ways about this, of course! But those are your feelings, which are yours to handle. Do not put them on the other person. Do not send them asks demanding things or lashing out. It won't make you feel better and it definitely won't get you what you are looking for, unless your actual aim is to kill the joy of another person so you are not upset alone. In that case I'm not sure what to tell you other than you might want to spend some time meditating on that one and think about if that's really the kind of person you want to be. Or if this kind of space is actually good for you.

That's it for now. Thank you for indulging me. Don't be a dick on the internet, friends. Take no shit and do no harm. Take care of yourselves! 💕

#fandom #tumblr life

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polaroidpascal · 13 days ago

Text

happy anniversary || frankie morales

AO3 || MASTERLIST || PART 1

pairing : frankie morales x f!reader

summary : pt 2 to valentine's day! frankie made your valentine's day – and five year anniversary – one to remember for sure. now as you rest in the bath together, the two of you reminisce on the first time you met.

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, lots and lots of kissing (again. im sorry. i just wanna kiss him so badly.), heart-achingly sweet (i'd apologize but no i won't), taking a stroll down memory lane, something about a ring? idk!, unprotected p in v sex, cumming together, creampie

WC: 1.6k

a/n : happy valentine's day!! had to squeeze this buzzer beater entry in before midnight for me because i've been wanting to write a pt 2 for this story for literally a year now and i think there's no better time than one year after posting pt 1 🥹 i just love this guy SO FUCKING MUCH and i know he would be the most loving partner to ever grace this earth. okay, i'll stop yapping about him, i hope y'all enjoy!! 💜

“You wanna go rest in the bath for a bit?”

“Mmm…” you hum. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

He carefully rises to his feet, making his way to the bathroom to run the water. “Hey, baby?”

“Yeah?”

“What was that thing you said about a ring?”

“Shit–” you hear him curse. He comes back with a slight urgency in his walk and kisses you… long… When he pulls away, he brings his hand up to your chin and whispers, “You never heard a thing,” planting a cute peck on your lips. You laugh at him before watching him disappear back into the bathroom.

You lay in your bed, bare and radiating heat, while Frankie runs a bath for the two of you to share, and you feel so full of love for him remembering everything he's done for you today to make it special.

The breakfast, driving you to work, the dinner, the flowers– god, and everything he just did to you...

You lay with your arm covering your eyes, a deep sigh leaving your nose as you settle into the warm afterglow feeling of it all, but it's quickly broken with a peck to your exposed lips.

Frankie peels your arm away from your face, leaning over the side of the bed to lock lips with you, a gentle but deep kiss to pull you back to reality.

"Bath is ready, amor," he says with a smile, standing up straight and reaching a hand down for you to take. He helps you off the bed, your legs a bit wobbly walking towards the bathroom.

And as if his surprises would ever stop, the door opens to reveal a dimly lit bathroom, illuminated only by even more candles scattered everywhere, some stray rose petals littering the tiles, and a big bathtub with bubbles stacked higher than you've ever seen.

Frankie steps into the bath first, sinking below the mist of bubbles making you giggle with the slight wincing he does from the hot water. He holds his arms out to you and you follow, wincing a bit as well sinking under the hot water and settling in his lap. His arms wrap around your middle burying his face into your neck when you lean into him, both of you exhaling in content.

"Thank you," you sigh, a smile faint on your face but apparent in your voice.

"Hm?" he mutters, sleepy and mumbly, flirting with sleep curled into your neck.

"I said thank you. For today. For the last five years. Just... I don't think I say it enough."

He sits up in an instant, grabbing your chin and turning you towards him. His big brown puppy eyes burn holes in your gaze. "Amor... you don't have to thank me. You know that, right?"

All you can do is stare back at him, watching his eyes search your face and you see something flash across his eyes. "Can I tell you a story?"

"Uh... y-yeah. What story?"

He pauses for a minute before a smile – the most gentle one you've ever seen – creeps across his face. "When we first met."

It was a party, one of those where you know the host but not the rest of the crowd. You and Santi had been best friends as kids, but you weren't familiar with most of the people there, the majority of them being friends he made at boot camp, so you found yourself being–

"–a little bit of a wallflower. But I noticed you right away. It took a lot of liquid courage to go up to you, y'know."

You chuckle. "No way you were tipsy when you came over."

"Oh, was I tipsy... it took three rum and cokes and a literal shove from Santi to make me walk your way– hey! Don't laugh!"

Frankie walked up next to you without you really noticing. "Uh, not much one for dancing, huh?" His voice snapped you out of your daze, your mind having wandered to thoughts of how much longer you'd stay and what you had to do tomorrow.

When you looked up, you didn't know who to expect (mostly because you didn't know anyone there), but you definitely didn't expect to see such a cute boy trying to strike a conversation with you.

"Um... n-no. No, not really," you stutter.

"It was like divine intervention that that song played just in time to ask you to dance."

The slow music filled the air as Frankie craned his head over to the dance floor. "Would you like to...?" he said, extending his hand to you.

Maybe it was Frankie's charm, or maybe it was a little bit of liquid courage for you, too, but the next thing you knew, he had his arm around your waist and your hands were clasped behind his neck. The two of you swayed to the music, you following his lead and him keeping a gentleman-like hold on you, eyes never leaving your face.

"I don't think I ever told you how pretty you were that night."

You think back and huff a bit of a laugh. "No?"

"No. Like a complete idiot."

You start to laugh, remembering what really happened.

"You're laughing again. Why are you laughing?" he chuckles, squeezing you a little closer to his warm torso, the bubbles slowly disappearing from the water.

"Well, I hate to skip your little story but... you do remember how that night ended, right?"

"Oh, I do..."

That night ended in the backseat of Frankie's truck, in the driveway of your house. A hot mess of huffs and puffs and moans, the body of the truck rocking around in the dead middle of the night.

Frankie couldn't keep his hands off of you, never letting his touch leave your body as you bounced in his lap.

"Jesus... you're so fucking beautiful... feels so good..." he moaned.

"Fuck... fuck, I think I'm gonna–"

"You couldn't stop calling me pretty."

"Oh, yeah. Right..." he says, bashful as can be with a blush spreading across his broad chest, shiny with the last remnants of bubbles from the water.

You turn your head to kiss him, your mouths gently brushing together as your hand reaches to hold his face.

Frankie pulls away first, thumb stroking your cheek staring into your eyes.

"You're just as pretty as that day, y'know. You get prettier every day, amor."

And that feeling comes back. That heart-swelling, chest-tightening feeling from all the love you have for him. You can't help the tears that threaten your waterline welling up uncontrollably.

You turn your body to face him, straddling his lap and draping your hands over his shoulders, crashing your lips together in a deep, slow kiss. You can feel him between your legs, his cock starting to twitch as blood flows back into it from your kissing and quiet moans.

Frankie breaks the kiss one more time. "You asked about... um..."

"Yes?"

"The, uh... you asked about... the ring thing..."

Your heart flutters in your chest, your breath hitching in anticipation.

He lets out a nervous chuckle. "Well, this isn't really how I thought it'd go but..."

"Oh my god are you–"

"N-no! Well, not 'no' but... I just... man, I'm doing a terrible job, aren't I?" he jokes, the two of you giggling together.

You kiss him again, your mind wandering and realizing that, while odd, might be the most perfect way he could have asked. Or presented the idea. Or just anything.

Intimate, just the two of you. Personal, reminiscing on when you met. Memorable, naked in a bathtub on your fifth anniversary seems pretty unforgettable in its own way.

So, in some strange, specific way... it's perfect.

"Yes..." you mumble against his lips, barely able to annunciate it right.

"'Yes'? Did you say 'yes'?"

You nod, whimpering against his lips. "Yes... want that ring... want you, Frankie..." you moan between kisses.

You feel his cock twitch again, groaning into your mouth. "Mhm... want you too..." His hands roam across your back, his touch unable to leave your body. Some things never change, you think.

"Promise I'm gonna do this the right way, okay?... Gonna get you flowers... gonna... get you dressed up... not just naked in the tub..."

"You already did those things today, y'know... there's no 'right way'..." He looks at you with those puppy eyes again. "I think this is just as perfect as if you took me to some pretty hillside or something."

And its his turn for his heart to flutter, a tingle spreading from head to toe before the two of you melt into each other, impossibly close as you press your chest to his, your lips together, his hips grinding up into you and yours grinding against his length.

He reaches under the cooling water grabbing his cock and lining it up with you, slowly sliding back into you for the second time tonight.

"Fuck..." you say, a breathy moan slipping from your lips.

"God, it never gets old..." Frankie says as you slide all the way down taking him up to the hilt, letting you adjust before slowly rocking your hips back and forth on his lap.

As many times as you've been like this with him, nothing compares to this time. You can't tell where you end and he begins, your bodies melting into one another and your tongues tangling in knots. The water sloshes around you as you lazily grind against him, the wiry hairs at his base rubbing against your clit perfectly.

He doesn't stand a chance with the way you pulse around him, his cock throbbing, riding the edge of an orgasm as quick as a fucking teenager. You're not any different, feeling him jump inside you and hearing him moan against your mouth.

You keep grinding against him, keep moaning into him, until you both come undone together, whining into each other's mouths and holding each other tight. You squeeze his cock tight as his hips twitch and he jolts inside of you, painting your walls once again.

You pant against each other, your forehead resting against his neck as he holds you tight.

"I love you," he whispers, running his hands up and down your back.

You can't help the smile that blooms across your face, nuzzling further into him and kissing his neck. "I love you too, Frankie."

#francisco catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #valentines day #happy valentine's day #valentine's day special #valentine's day alone with my laptop

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ruthplaysthesims · 5 months ago

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Sims 4 Life and Death Expansion Pack: Story Prompt List

Hey y'all. I hope y'all didn't miss me too much but I am back with another prompt list for those of you who want to start writing stories on Tumblr and those who wish to find inspiration to play the sims 4 with the life and death EP

- Prompt One: Your sim is a funeral director. After a well deserved break recovering from a messy break up, your sim gets hired to plan a funeral for a family. Upon research, your sim is shocked to find out the funeral is for none other than their ex's mother, who just so happens to be one of the reasons your sim and their ex broke up.

- Prompt Two: After laying the family matriarch to rest, your sim's family seem really eager to read the will. When the lawyer shows up, something feels off. The lawyer pulls out a torn piece of paper, gives it to your sim to read and walks out. Your sim seems to be the only one who understands what is written while the family starts fighting and arguing about the will.

- Prompt Three: Your sim's sibling passes away and everyone is gathered around their corpse as the grim reaper does his thing. Your sim attempts to plead for their life but is met with a scythe a few inches away from their neck. The reaper gets the job done and goes on his way. Determined to bring them back, your sim decided to join the Undertaker career. Be the best intern and get your sibling's soul back to their body.

- Prompt Four: Your sim has been murdered. They are fortunate enough to be reincarnated into whomever they please, so they reincarnate as someone close to their murderer...

- Prompt Five: Your sim has been in the same toxic relationship for the past five years. Your sim begins to lose hope in love... That is until their toxic partner kicks the bucket. They are crying and getting ready to plead for their lover's life... But an encounter with a charming grimtern changes their mind...

- Prompt Six: After living a long, fulfilling life, your sim now wanders around as a ghost. Scaring the sh*t out of the living, messing around with objects, it's the same thing. One day, your sim finds out about the newest resident in Ravenwood. Your sim is rather intrigued, ready to cause some chaos when they realize this new resident can see and speak to ghosts...

- Prompt Seven: Your sim is a mortician. The job is as mundane as mundane can be. One day, your sim is embalming a corpse that has a rose tattoo with a nice short poem on it. As the days go by, your sim notices a recurring pattern with the corpses they tend to: all have a rose tattoo with what seems to be the continuation of a poem that eventually sums up into a story... about a cult.

Please note that these are based on what we know so far. The list will be updated the more info comes out about the EP.

Shout out to my girl @authorspirit for discussing this with me!! If you do happen to use any of these prompts, please do tag me @ruthplaysthesims so I can see your wonderful stories and characters!! Can't wait for this pack to be released.

#ruth's prompts #sims 4 gameplay #gameplay ideas #story ideas #ts4 simblr #simblr #the sims 4 #your girl is exhausted!!#periods are no joke 😭😭

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cheapshrimpysheep · 2 years ago

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First Date - Savanaclaw

SUMMARY: What would your first date with him be like? I know first dates might not go so well, but let's pretend these are different. ;)

CHARACTERS: Leona Kingscholar; Jack Howl & Ruggie Bucchi

TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader; Flirting; Kissing

WARNING: Spoilers from Ruggie's Gala Couture Lines

WORD COUNT: An average of 630 words per character.

Heartslabyul / Savanaclaw / Octavinelle / Scarabia / Pomefiore / Ignihyde / Diasomnia

COMMENTS: Maybe I went slightly further on Leona's part. Don't worry, don't run away from fluf that much if you don't want to. Jack's and Ruggie's parts are cutest because they are cutest too.

I hope you enjoy ;)

Leona will never ask you out on a date out of free will. You have to be the one to tell him to do it! Why? Because for him to spend time with you in his room chilling and things like that are enough. Why take you to a restaurant if he can get someone to cook for you and bring you the food? Why take a walk in a park? Can't you guys just keep sleeping in his bed? So, the only way is if you annoy him enough.

“Herbivore! I'll pick you up at seven. Be ready.” he just told you, one day. You ask him where. “Didn't you want a date? So let's go out to dinner.” You smile but also raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to say a certain thing. “What? You were the one annoying me to go on a date and now you want me to pay too?”

“You were the one who invited me. And I don't know where we're going. Also you have more money than me by far.”

He sighs “Fine, fine, stop whining. I’ll pay.” He smirks “But you better behave. Oh, and make sure you wear something nice. They don't let anyone dressed sloppy in.” you look him up and down “For your information, I know better than you how to dress acceptable for some places.” he says with all his smugness. “You just need to dress a little formal, no need for fancy clothes.”

When you arrived at Ramshackle Dorm, there was a box waiting for you. You didn't need to look for clothes for the date, they were right there. When you open it, there were beautiful clothes, exactly the style you liked. Either a dress or a shirt and pants, depending on what you would prefer to receive. (He know, I don't) And matching shoes and accessories.

“I hope you don't make me for this.” you tell him when he arrives to pick you up. He smirks: “It's not the first time I've donated clothes to those most in need. Look at Ruggie.”

“I'm pretty sure these clothes don't fit you.”

“I never said I just donated my clothes. Now, are we going or not? We have time to be there, you know?”

It was a relatively expensive restaurant, with excellent cooks and food, beautiful decor, well dressed waiter. And Leona still insists on saying that he only did it so you would stop bothering him with a date? How stubbornly proud!

Tho, it was a different experience always be reminded that you were the date of the Prince of Sunset Savanna. The waiters sometimes treating him as "Prince Kingscholar" or even "your majesty". Every now and then you would notice people at other tables looking at the two of you and talking to each other.

“What?” he says when he notices your slight discomfort with the looks of others. “Don't tell me you're embarrassed to be dining with a prince.” He smirks, as always. “You know they're jealous of you, right?”

Despite the attention, dinner went very well. When it came time to pay, he didn't even look at the bill and simply paid with his card. And as you were leaving, he made sure to put his arm around your waist. To further instigate the murmur.

“You know” he says, with you two back in Ramshackle “when I pay for Ruggie's stuff, he reciprocates by doing some of my housework.” he lifts your cheese with one finger. “What are you going to do for this date?”

You can choose: do some of his housework like Ruggie OR grab Leona by the collar, kiss his lips and see where it leads and if in the end it's enough to pay off your "debt".

If he gets the opportunity, or waits for it, Jack will want to take you somewhere with snow. Since this is his natural habitat and this will allow him to have more ideas to make you happy.

If you like snowboarding or skiing: you'll have fun together, maybe even do some racing. If you're not too proud, he'll let you win a few times or try to finish the descent side by side with you.

If you don't know how to ski or snowboarding: he’ll happily offer to teach you. Do I need to say his tail is wagging like crazy? He is an extreme sports guy. But he'll go easy on you, respecting your time to learn. He is the type of tutor who will be proud of you for your efforts and progress. He just wants you to have fun, not to learn quickly.

If you get cold, he’ll always be ready to hug you or, in a critical case, give you his coat and take you somewhere warm. And that warm place could be a cafe with hot chocolate on the menu. Hot chocolate with marshmallow and whipped cream. Maybe those same marshmallows shaped as hearts, if the owner knows Jack and wants to mess with you two a little bit. If that happens he will blush.

When he notice, or you notice and point it out to him, that started snowing, he'll ask you if you’d like to go on a walk with him. Don't worry, it's not a hike, it's really just a stroll. He takes you to a park. The scenery was white and brown from the snow that covered the ground and the bare trees. If there is a lake, this one will be frozen over.

He’ll put one of his hands in his pocket, but the one next to you is out. And you two are very close to each other. You give him your hand and he reciprocates by intertwining his fingers with yours. He needs a few minutes to not turn completely red when he looks at you, like this next to him. He walks so that you are slightly ahead so his tail doesn't hit you as it swings.

The walk with Jack is pleasant, but maybe there will come a time when you want to make a snowman with him, for example. “Um? Really?” He does this with his younger siblings, but he still sees this as kind of a child's play. But if you show that you really want to do it, he will eventually give in to make you happy. And if you say you've never made one before, then he'll give in even faster.

After the two of you finish the snowman, you pretend to step back to enjoy the work you two did. And as soon as you find him distracted you throw him a snowball. “Oi!” he looks at you behind him. You laugh and he smirks. “Ha ha. So, you want to start a battle with a pro? I admire the courage!” Obviously he's not going to give it his all, he doesn't want to hurt you.

At some point you will hide behind some tree or bench. But when you get up again to throw him another snowball, you don't see him anymore. He appears behind you and hugs you trapping your arms. “Hey! That's cheating!” You say.

“According to my siblings all's fair in love and snowball war.” He tells you. All's fair in love, hum? He's not squeezing you too hard. So you manage to turn a little, your faces close enough for you to kiss his lips.

He was taken by surprise. And maybe that kiss won't last that long because you're in public. But when you go to a more private place...

Ruggie is broke. Probably as much as you. So he must have postponed your first date as long as he could until he could do something worthy of a date. And that is: a picnic. The only thing he has to pay for is food. One of the things he loves most. But he’ll still try to convince you to pay for half of the stuff. After all, the date is also yours.

He made the food. Because cooking is cheaper than buying ready-made food. Don't be surprised if when you meet him to go, he knows where, he has not one but two picnic baskets and asks you to carry one. He knows that he himself eats a lot, so he takes extra food to make sure there's enough food for both of you. Since he's not picky about food, to the point of eating anything, he only cooks things he knows you like. This way it will be good for both of you.

He will take you to a field surrounded by a sea of colourful flowers. If there are dandelions among the flowers, he’ll nibble on them. As soon as he finds a good spot that won't ruin any flowers he spreads out the picnic blanket and starts setting things up. Lucky for you he gave you a basket to carry. This way, you were able to slither inside a little something that you bought for him. But you'll leave that for later.

Despite how much he likes you, when he eats he only focuses on the food. So it's only in moments of break from eating that you two chat. As you two speak, he picks up one flower at a time and starts to intertwines them. You ask what he’s doing. “A Flower Crown. I used to make this to the neighborhood kids back in the slums. Do you want me to teach you how to make one?”

You end up making each other a Flower Crown while talking. Yours might be a little crooked if this is your first time making one. But he will love it anyway. You used a lot of dandelions to make his crown. And he used his favourite flowers and/or colours. The one he made for you was practically perfect.

“Don't be upset if I eat my crown. Shye hee hee.” He says seeing so many dandelions when you place the crown on his head. It ends up going around one ear, but it's not wide enough to go through the other. It's cute. He puts the one he made on your head. “Heh heh. Cute.” he comments. “Look who’s talking.” you answer.

“Are you still hungry?” you ask.

“What kind of question is that? I'm always hungry. The only thing able to make me full would be a banquet for three entire kingdoms. Shye hee hee.”

You put your hand inside the basket you carried and pull out a rectangular box. “Oh, I was just wondering when you were going to get me those donuts.” He says and you look at him. “Sorry, but you can't fool a beastman's nose. Awww, don't be sad. At least I waited until you took the box out.”

You open the box, still a little sad that you couldn't make it a surprise. He leans towards you, kisses your cheek affectionately and hugs you from the side, which was a trap in disguise. “Awww. The date was going so well. Don't be sad now. Come on... laugh with me.” De does not use his magic on you, instead he attacks you with tickles.

You, trying to escape his tickling, end up lying down and he lies down beside you. When he stops the tickling attack, this will be your opportunity to attack him with a kiss on his lips that are so close to yours.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #twst fluf #Twisted Wonderland Fluf #Leona Kingscholar #Leona Kingscholar x Reader #Leona x Reader #Jack Howl #Jack Howl x Reader #Jack x Reader #Ruggie Bucchi #Ruggie Bucchi x Reader #Ruggie x Reader

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aonungslvr · 1 year ago

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he’s…what? II

pairing ; jealous! ao'nung x f!sully! reader

taggings ; 🪽⭐️

summary; you bring ao'nung back to the forest you grew up in, but he's not exactly getting the hang of things.

notes; this was a request but i lost it.. (you know who you are) i literally kicked my feet and giggled when i saw it. in response, of course you can have a part two! hope this is up to par with what you wanted <3

3k words - part one

after you had finally been reunited with your best friend of many years, you two spent a lot of time together. much to ao‘nungs dismay.

you and txäol had daily ikran rides, went hunting, attended clan gatherings, and explored the forest together. you two had done these things for countless years when you had been younger. however, a more than jealous metkayina had began tagging along from afar.

the point that txäol wasn’t interested in you had finally gotten across his mind, but he still didn’t like the fact you had spent all of your time with this boy when you could be hanging out with him.

he was new to the forest and had no clue what he was doing. he tripped over everything, ran from everything, and got mad at everything. all he wanted was his sweet mate to show him around and spend time with him. instead of him, you spent time with your best friend.

ao’nung understood why you were spending time with him, he had been there for you way longer than teal na’vi himself had. but that didn’t mean it made him any less upset.

he would randomly appear at your side, tugging on your arm or tail to ask you to go do something with him instead. you tried to dismiss him and get him to hang out with txäol but he always shut down the idea. that was until you had had enough of him messing around.

you had brought the metkayina and omatikaya boys together in a small area within the forest and began ordering them around.

“i don’t want to hear from either of you until you get it together, get along, and become friends someway, anyway!”

txäol didn’t mind getting to know your mate, in fact he wanted to! but to ao’nung, this was a punch in the gut. get along? with your boy best friend you spend every second with? he’d rather fend off an akula by himself.

for you, he stayed. he stayed standing in the same space after you left, not attempting to make any moves towards talking with txäol. eventually, he had thought of one thing he’d like to say.

“you need to-“

“if you ever raise a finger towards her or even speak to loud, so help me eywa, i will skin you like the fish you are.”

wow.

ao’nung backed up after that.

txäol was dead serious.

they didn’t end up bonding that day.

. . .

“(y/n) why don’t you come back with me to the reef! there’s too many trees here- it’s so hot! and those viperwolf things are terrifying! come on- you like the ocean!”

clearly, your mate wasn’t adapting like you had. it finally clicked in your brain that you and your family had been mentored by the natives of the reef, ao’nung was the only metkayina here and you weren’t teaching him anything.

that had to change.

you started by simply introducing the sea na’vi to the forest. you would tell ao’nung about different plants and animals that surrounded your childhood home and help him become more accustomed to them.

it started by simply showing him random vegetation such as loreyu, and telling him he needed to feel the forest inside of him just as he felt the ocean. eventually you moved forward, introducing him to a kxaylkxa. they were pretty docile animals and your mate didn’t seem to mind them, aside from the comments about how stupid they looked.

“this is seriously an animal-? this thing isn’t just fake-?” ao’nung commented as he tapped the animals head.

“be nice! she is beautiful, you are just mean.”

“come on (y/n) where are the cool animals-! these things just walk around all day, where’s the interesting th- HOLY SHIT.”

your mother was once named palulukan makto, given she rode a palulukan during one of the earlier battles against humans, before you were born. unfortunately, this creature died, but she left behind a baby of her own, who had now grown to adulthood with a keen liking to the sully’s.

“oh him-? he’s just a big baby.” you replied as you gave the palulukan a few pats to the head.

your mate wasn’t moving. either he was too scared to move and startle the, what he would call, beast, or he physically could not.

eventually, the palulukan went on his way, leaving two na’vi behind, one absolutely terrified and one rethinking her choice of bringing her scaredy cat mate home with her.

“(y/n)- i’m seriously starting to think the forest just isn’t for me. eywa knows i was meant to be in the sea for as long as i live.”

“oh come on- don’t talk like that! you’ll get used to it!”

“i seriously doubt it?? i mean- like look at these! stupid floaty things!” he said as he swatted away some sort of white jellyfish looking things.

“wel- ao’nung! no, no, no, kehe! stop that!”

you grabbed his hands and held them down at his sides, preventing him from hitting anymore as you admired the scene you saw before you.

“okay what’s ha-“

“atokirina!”

you watched as the seeds slowly surrounded ao’nung even though he looked like he was one touch away from throwing a fit. you recalled this scene from somewhere in your memories.

your mother told stories, stories of her and your father. when your dad had arrived from the sky people he was about to be killed by your mother before he was surrounded in atokirina, a sign from eywa.

“eywa speaks!” you yipped.

after getting your mate used to the forest and all it has to offer, it was time you started actually training him. he had been around for a few weeks and still couldn’t climb a tree.

given his body physically isn’t built to climb, you took it easy on him for a while, but if you could learn how to swim, he could learn how to climb.

it took hours out of your days but you still helped him learn. ewya knows no one else would’ve done it. besides, you did love him after all.

you had climbed up a pretty easy to climb tree and got to the midpoint within a few seconds before you paused and looked down, waiting for ao’nung to follow.

“come on! just put your feet on a branch and go up!”

“what..”

you weren’t the best teacher. it seemed like such common sense to you, you couldn’t fathom that a na’vi wouldn’t actually be able to climb. you hopped down from your spot perched on a branch and placed your hands on your mate to guide him along.

“like this- you place your first foot here, the the second higher.”

navi were only blue right? yeah well this one was red.

after doing your best to adapt him to climbing (he climbed up and down a tree in only 2 hours 26 minutes), you switched gears to hunting!

you stood behind ao’nung adjusting his arms ever so carefully as he held a bow and arrow in his four fingered hands.

“close your left eye, focus on your target.”

after you were happy with the position of his hands and arms you let go and instructed him to release. it wasn’t even a full second after he fired that you yipped and ducked while pulling the metkayina down with you as the arrow ricocheted the target and came launching back at you two.

“oops..”

so maybe hunting wasn’t his strong suit, next down on the list was bonding with a pa’li. they weren’t hostile animals and should be pretty easy to make tsaheylu with! ao’nung had bonded with an ilu so what was really the difference?

“ok, now gently mount him. slowly.”

you assisted him a tad and got him on the back of the horse-like animal, before instructing him on how to make tsaheylu without getting thrown off like your father first had when he learned your people’s way.

“when you bond, hold on to his neck tightly, but don’t choke him. he’ll want to run and you must stay on his back. just like an ilu!”

the clarification of it being as easy as ilu taming gave ao‘nung little comfort. the metkayina tame their companions as babies, and the bonds aren’t as strict as forest animals.

“just like an ilu..yeah..”

you held the pa’lis kuru steady as ao’nung brought his own down and the nerves intertwined. the animals pupils dilated and he quickly took off, pushing you behind. you tripped on a tree root sticking out but you were okay.

your mate, only seeing you fall to the ground after the animal he was riding kicked into you, was set off and his focus was instantly switched from the pa’li to you. he turned his body around to look at you and in turn fell off the back of his current lesson.

“(y/n)!”

“ao’nung you skxwang! you had it-!”

he got up and jogged to your side, helping you up as his pa’li ran around in circles before coming back and huffing.

“was worried about you- can you blame me?”

you slapped the back of his neck and yipped for the animal to calm down.

“i was fine. it’s just a little dirt. let’s try that again, yeah?”

after a few times (a lot of times) trying to keep ao’nung from falling off the pa’li he was finally able to ride the horse around in a small part of the forest.

over the next few weeks, you had one on one lessons with him teaching him all the things he needed to know to be successful in the forest. plants he needed to stay away from, herbs with medicinal properties, animals he probably shouldn’t approach, how to properly fire an arrow, climbing, and some traditional omatikayan weaving.

as much as he sucked in the beginning, he was a quick learner and managed to adapt in around the time it took you and your siblings too when you entered the sea.

if not now, it was never.

“ao’nung! time for you to get your ikran- come on!”

the majority of his training was all for this small purpose, tame an ikran and try not to die. naturally you hid this fact from him, given he wouldn’t even step a foot next to your ikran. however, whether he liked it or not, if he was going to learn your ways he had to complete this part of the forests rite of passage.

“yeah uh- what?”

“your ikran! your ready, come with me and i’ll take you to the mountains!”

“(y/n), my mate, my lover, my everything, respectfully, fuck no.”

“you’re going ao’nung te lepay tonowari’itan.”

“oh.”

after dragging a whining teen na’vi up the hallelujah mountains into ikran ridden territory, he looked like he was ready!

“see, they aren’t that bad! and taming them doesn’t even kill a lot of na’vi”

“well that sounds go- NA’VI DIE HERE??”

“well yeah obviously, it’s a rite of passage for a reason.”

“eywa please help me.”

“alright! let’s do this!”

you were putting on a cheerful facade to try and make ao’nung more comfortable but you obviously knew the risks. your brother lo’ak had broken a leg when he had first tried taming his ikran, and some na’vi had met worst fates.

you handed your mate a saddle meant for ikran as well as some rope. it’s easier to tame one once your tie their mouth shut, slide on the saddle, mount, and bond. you had explained how some of this worked before when you told the story of when you first got your own ikran, seyä, who was watching from afar.

“when he chooses you, tie his mouth shut with this as you put on the saddle.”

“chooses me?”

“when an ikran locks eyes with you and screeches, it means he has chosen you.”

“yeah, chosen me to kill.”

you slapped the back of his neck before continuing.

“technically yes- but stop with all that! you are ready and you will do just fine. na’vi younger than you do this all the time.”

ao’nung sighed and looked as if he had accepted his death. he held onto the rope you gave him and entered the open area where all the ikran could clearly see him. the animals cocked their heads at him and were probably confused seeing a metkayina here.

one certain ikran, a teal male with some darker blue stripes, took an interest in him and grunted, before releasing a hellish scream. off on the side, you giggled at the ikran that had chosen him, they had the same coloring!

“alright than…you and me.”

ao’nung lunged first, aiming for the ikrans jaw to latch it shut. the animal played defense and offense at the same time and launched the na’vi back on the rocks using his nose. ao’nung got up and was clearly not happy. he had a cut on his elbow he quickly examined before turning and hissing at the monster.

you observed from the side and debated with yourself. if he couldn’t pull it off should you save him? na’vi are supposed to be left alone during this process. when your brother had gotten injured during his ikran taming your father didn’t even want him going back, which caused an argument with your mother. ‘this is our way’ is what she would say. sure it’s your way, but your way is also love and protection. what kind of mate would you be if you sat here and watched your partner die?

you didn’t have any more time to ponder on the thought because ao’nung fought back and had wrapped the rope around the throat of the ikran, sliding it up its neck to get to the mouth. he was tossed around by the flailing of the animals neck, but he held on and slipped the rope around its jaws, tying it off. the creature could no longer nip or bite, leaving its offense limited. the metkayina slid the saddle on and jumped on the back of the ikran as it shook and flapped its wings to kick him off. as ao’nung finally grabbed its kuru, the beast ran towards the edge of the floating mountains and dived off.

“ao’nung!”

you ran to the edge and looked down to try and find where they were, praying you didn’t see the ikran come back up alone.

“oh my eywa, oh my eywa, i killed my mate- i killed him-!”

just as you were about to call your own ikran over and dive down looking for him while planning your own funeral in your head, the teal ikran shot back up, this time, with a na’vi of the same color on its back.

“(y/n)! i did it-!”

“oh my e- thank you great mother- get down here! now!”

ao’nung tried his best to steer his new ikran back towards the mountains and eventually made it, being greeted with the most breathe-sucking hug from you.

“your hurt- come! we have to go to the tsahík.”

“wha- tsahík-? i don’t know- i think i’m fi-“

“now!”

your mate didn’t have the best ideas about meeting another clans tsahík given how his own mother reacted to the sully’s appearing on her beaches.

what he really wasn’t prepared for, was that tsahík being your grandmother.

mo’at spread healing pastes around the wound and wrapped a large leaf around the bend of ao’nungs elbow, almost creating some sort of cast, and sent him on his way.

“you’ll be fine boy, just don’t bend your elbow to much.”

“thank you mormor!”

“yeah, th- MORMOR?? SHES YOUR GRANDMOTHER?”

“yes? i forgot to mention? my mistake!”

the metkayina turned pink and turned to the tsahík, your grandmother, before thanking her profusely and apologizing if he was rude in any way.

you giggled but contained it to yourself. you knew you didn’t tell him, but it made for a funny interaction.

“yes yes, all is well, just go. out of the tent.”

“YES MA’AM.”

“and (y/n)? i hope to see you at the clan gathering tonight.”

ao’nung could’ve broken his other elbow by how fast he made his way out of the healing tent. he waited as far as he could until you came out before rushing over to you and blaming you for not warning him.

“(y/nnnn)!! you didn’t tell me! that was so embarrassing- she probably hates me now!”

“your so dramatic!”

later that day the teen na’vi was caught on his ikran trying to get him to fly back to the reef. (his ikran refused.)

later that night, your clan had a festival. the welcoming back of the former olo'eyktan and toruk makto, 3 tskarems, and the entire sully family, as well as a farewell to the humans.

during all your time home, you had been teaching ao’nung the way of the hunt, and how to succeed in the clan, but not your cultural values.

the omatikayans dance, songs, weaving, and food was all new to him, and he was quickly exposed to it as you brought him to the celebration.

everything was different than how things happened at the reef, but it wasn’t a bad kind of different.

ao’nung watched as you danced with your friends, txäol included, and you smiled, laughed, and sung along to whatever cultural song the singers had chosen to sing that night.

you were happy with the metkayina but it was nothing like this, being reunited with your childhood friends and the rest of your people.

ao’nung, as your mate, picked up on this. he saw your emotions and there was a chance he even felt them himself.

this was your home, and maybe it could be his too.

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #ao’nung #avatar x you #ao’nung x female reader #ao’nung x you #ao’nung x sully!reader #aonung x reader

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roomwithanopenfire · 2 months ago

Text

2024 Writing Round Up

Happy last day of 2024!! I’ve been loving seeing everyone’s writing and art and doll round ups making their way around, but I waited until the very last second because I posted chapters of fic today ahaha

Thanks for tagging me: @run-for-chamo-miles @drowninginships, @monbons @emeryhall @confused-bi-queer

@rimeswithpurple @nausikaaa @prettygoododds @artsyunderstudy @noblecorgi

@alexalexinii @ileadacharmedlife and @best--dress

Rest of the post is under the cut because it is so long.

FIC’S I’VE POSTED

First, I’ve posted 28 fics this year! 24 for them for Carry On, and 4 of them for Stranger Things. (One of the Stranger Things ones was technically posted last year, but I posted the majority of it this year, so I’m counting it for 2024.) 21 of these fics were for the Carry On Countdown. 2 of those fics are long completed multichapter projects, and 1 is a long uncompleted multichapter project.

According to AO3, I’ve posted 219,532 words this year, but we can subtract about 14.8k from that because AO3 counts work totals based on date updated and I posted the first 2 chapters of No Sweeter Drug in 2023 (so it’s actually 204,704) . This brings my total words on ao3 up to 288,701, so you can see how I really went crazy this year.

No Sweeter Drug (than just giving you my love) - 60k, Stranger Things, Nancy/Robin. Nancy and Robin had a whirlwind summer romance before their sophomore year, but Nancy left her behind, because Nancy Wheeler doesn’t date girls. But after the Upside Down, Nancy finds herself questioning who she even is. And she has to come to terms with her feelings for one Robin Buckley. This is the first stranger things fic I ever posted and I loved writing it. Seriously, I had so much fun with this fic. I’m pretty sure some of my best prose is in this one.

Proof of Life - 80k, Carry On, Simon/Baz. Vampires attacked Watford and Baz was Turned, but this time Natasha Pitch lived. What would Baz’s life be like growing up with his mother? How would Natasha feel about her son’s… condition? And what happens when you throw the Mage’s Heir into the mix? Omggg I had the best time with this fic. I’d been working on this for so long, it was absolutely insane to finally start posting it in March of this year. Thanks to @demadogs for betaing this and hyping me up so much, this fic wouldn’t be half as good without her. Also I got to join the fandom more when I started posting this fic, and I loved meeting all of you so much <3

Just Come Along - 8k, Stranger Things, Steve/Eddie. Steve’s estranged grandfather dies, and he’s the only one in his family who cares enough to make the trip. Eddie, despite barely being friends with Steve, agrees to come with. Along the way, secrets are shared, memories are made, and Eddie and Steve become closer than ever before… I wrote this for the Steddie Summer Exchange and it was my first time doing a fandom event! I had so much fun!!

The Way We Are - WIP, 11k, Carry On, Simon/Baz. Baz and Simon meet in a coffee shop not knowing that one of them is a vampire and the other a vampire hunter. After a tense encounter, both of them are left with questions about who they are and their morality. And as if that’s not enough, neither of them can stop thinking about the other… My COBB fic with @alexalexinii!! This is the only WIP I have to carry over into the new year, and I’m hoping to finish it up soon. I’m literally obsessed with the themes I have in this fic and I want to get them right.

i want an icee and a nice girl to date - 5k, Stranger Things, Robin/Nancy. Nancy doesn't know why Robin in her 8am class gets on her nerves. Maybe it's because she talks too much for so early in the morning. Maybe it's because she didn't seem appreciative of Nancy sharing her textbook with her. Or maybe there's no good reason at all. Eddie thinks Nancy's only two options are to either become enemies with Robin or fall in love with her. Nancy thinks Eddie's full of shit. But when she ends up in a dark movie theater with Robin, Nancy starts to see her in a new way… My fic for the Stranger Things Sapphic Big Bang with @ddoonnccnn !! I loved this little college AU and the art for it is ADORABLE (seriously, click on the fic just to look at the art, trust)

we can go forever - 3k, Stranger Things, Robin/Nancy. “I came from the ocean,” she said, like she was sharing a great secret. “That’s where I live.” 12-year-old Nancy does not believe her. There's no way that this girl is actually some sort of creature... right? Gift fic for @sweetronancer !! Percy ily and I wish you the bestest new year ever <333

What to Bring to An Abandoned Planet - 12k, Carry On, Multi (Simon/Baz, Penny/Shep and like a lot of friendships) Agatha, Baz, and Trixie are a small yet mighty group of space pirates who take down a transporter ship that holds Penelope, Shepard, and Simon on their way to relocating to a new planet. But once Agatha’s mighty ship—the SC Comet—falls way to space debris, the six of them have to learn to work together to survive on an uninhabited planet. I wrote this for @agni-ashes for the Secret Snowflake Exchange and I had wayyyy too much fun with this AU.

And then I wrote all 30 prompts for the Carry On Countdown!! This ended up being 21 fics, but here are a few of my favorites.

Agatha Wellbelove and the Six Sigils - 10k, Agatha gen fic. When Agatha ends up in a study in the White Chapel, she doesn’t think it’s going to change her life forever. When she finds a bag of coins with magickal sigils on them, she certainly doesn’t think it’s going to mean anything important to her. But when she starts having visions of the future… Well, she’s got to do something about it. I love Agatha actually. I find her character so fascinating. I had so much fun exploring her here, and I hope to write more about her in the future!

Some Bright Morning - 3k, Lucy & Simon. Lucy’s baby is the Chosen One. What does that mean? Why is he taking Lucy’s magic? What will Davy do to a child like that? Not feeling safe and not knowing what to do, Lucy turns to an old friend. I loved writing this fic so much!

i wanna go outside but i’m terrified it might be cold or too hot or too radioactive - 1.6k, Simon/Baz. Simon and Baz are the only ones left at Watford during Christmas break. Therefore, when the nuclear apocalypse hits, they are trapped in a bunker with only each other as company. Will they become friends or kill each other? Only time will tell… This was SO much fun to write. I think I had the most fun with this one out of all the Countdown fics.

I’m not going to link anymore, but I also wrote a GBBO au, a Penny turns into a vampire fic, a Mordelia POV fic that I actually LOVE, a short and sad Fiona/Ebb fic, a couple Fiona & small Baz fics, a 2nd person POV humdrum fic, and several other ones that I’m really proud off. I can’t believe I was able to finish the entire countdown, I’m so proud of myself!!

WORDS I’VE WRITTEN

I’ve also kept track of how many words I wrote monthly this year! I only started using a spreadsheet to keep track in mid-March, so the early months are retroactive and are probably underestimated compared to the middle ones. I also didn’t keep as good track each day in Sept-Dec, but I still feel that’s fairly accurate overall, I just don’t know my daily totals. So check out my chart and graph!!

That’s a total of 186,286 words!!

I like looking at this because I can see where my motivation dropped off. When school started in September there was a huge dip, but I picked back up in November with the countdown fics! April looks really low, but it was a month of editing so I still did lots! Also, I posted more words than I wrote, which seems really silly, but I wrote all of No Sweeter Drug in 2023 same with most of Proof of Life

And now, because this post isn’t long enough already…

FUN FACTS

Of the days I kept track of my daily word totals (April-August), the day I wrote the most words was August 13th. I wrote 5,856 words of a still unposted Farcille smut fic. It’s extremely nsfw and I wrote almost all of these words in the backseat of a car (my parents were in the front) after driving back home from my out-of-state doctor’s appointments. I cooked up the whole idea while in an MRI machine lolll. (I will post it one day but it turns out editing smut is a lot less fun than writing smut)

Throughout the course of this year, my favorite writing font switched from Georgia to Lora. I love Lora so much now, she’s so cunty.

When I’m writing, chances are I’m listening to one of 3 things. This absolutely perfect playlist on youtube—I do my best writing with this but sometimes I’m not in the mood; one of two albums by David Bowie (1 or 2); or my vocaloid playlist (which i’m still curating, one day when it’s perfect and like 10 hours long i’ll share it)

Google docs new tab system is a lifesaver!! I could fit all of my COC fics on the same google doc, I love it. You don’t even want to know how many different documents I’d have for one fic before this system was introduced.

(Kind of unrelated, but I also started journaling late 2024 and now I can’t stop. Does this make me cooler? Perhaps not, but offloading my thoughts onto a page is very useful. Also I put quotes and doodles in there.)

LOOKING AHEAD TO 2025

I’ll be bringing one WIP fic from this year into 2025—The Way We Are. I honestly thought I would have finished it by now, but I lost my writing motivation and then gained it only for COC, but I’m hoping to finish writing the last two chapters soon. (I’ve told myself I can’t post anymore of it until I finish writing it, which maybe wasn’t a good idea but oh well). I genuinely love this fic and the themes I explore in it, so I hope to finish and post more soon!

My main goal for 2025 is to just keep writing. I try to have a daily goal of at least 200 words a day, and the months where I stuck to that goal are some of the ones where I wrote the most. It takes me about 200 words to get into the flow and want to keep writing, so it ends up really effective. I have a newer, sexier, writing tracker spreadsheet for 2025 and I feel very inspired to fill it up.

If you read this whole thing, I love you! This was a yap yet so it ended up long, so I'm hiding the sappiness down here. I've had SO much fun joining the fandom this year. I love and appreciate all of you, from the first time I was tagged in a wipsday on here, to everyone who's commented on my fics. The Carry On fandom truly is the bestest ever, you guys are so encouraging and make me want to keep writing forever and ever <3

I’m pretty sure most people who’ve wanted to have done this already, but be tagged anyways (sorry if I missed you if you've already done this):

@aristocratic-otter @arthurkko @beastmonstertitan @blackberrysummerblog @bookishbroadwayandblind

@bookish-bogwitch @brendughh @brilla-brilla-estrellita @cccloudsss (tyyyy for being such a good friend and the fastest beta everrrr) @cutestkilla

@facewithoutheart @fiend-for-culture @horsesarenotdeer @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature

@larkral @meanjeansjeans @m1ndwinder @raenestee @rbkzz

@shrekgogurt @skee3000 @supercutedinosaurs @talentpiper11 @thewholelemon

@valeffelees @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @argumentativeantitheticalg

#writing round up #i'm not ready for 2025 guyss #everyone who's already there tell me what's it like??#lily rambles #my writing #This is so long #i possess the ‘i can’t shut up’ disease #have not learned brevity #this was fun to make up though!#fic writing things #the way we are #no sweeter drug #agatha and six sigils #proof of life #carry on fandom #stranger things fandom #snowbaz #ronance #long post

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heta-on-the-books · 30 days ago

Text

Long post so check under the cut!

FAQ

What is this blog?

Est in 2019 This blog was a one-of-a-kind impulse decision brought upon by a time when all the lovely active Hetalia listing blogs were not as common as they once were. So, it's not a new idea, in the least, but a decent one! So my dream is if you are looking for fellow blogs, reviving your dash, looking out for that favourite muse, or craving the crowd in your favourite fandom and looking for a Group/lack thereof? I hope this place can offer it to you.

Who’s behind the books?

You may or may not have heard my name around the block, the names Gypty. I’m a fellow rper, ask blog mun, something of an artist and overall curious rat floating oceans to find a place in the world, Nice to meet you~

What is each tag?

Currently, I have devised five tags that are the organization to this blog's listings, let’s call them the five books.

🧡RP, is where the role play blogs reside, Hetalia muses such as 1p’s, 2p,s Nyos, au, multi muse, world is your oyster. Pay attention to what sort of rp style they use as well, it might answer some questions about your own rp style preference.

💚Ask, are the blogs where Hetalia muses take your questions and answer them as they see fit, this category is also quite versatile as alongside having many styles of Hetalia muse the diversity of how they are answered can be quite intriguing!

💙Creator Blogs, these are the people who fill the fandom with all sorts of content, cosplay, art, themes, aesthetics, fanfiction, anything under the sun and moon really.

❤️Hetalia, That's what it is, to be honest, Hetalia. This is where the blogs who reblog, share and some even take on the task of bringing all the Hetalia, fan or official, news or art. They are the spiderwebs that get the fandom’s content around. A great person to follow if you’re looking for Hetalia on your dash of all sorts.

💜Groups, ‘Groups’ is the tag for all the Hetalia group blogs that could be looking for exposure and even new members to join the ranks. Rp, ask, Art, all of it.

💛Oh Yeah! With the group tags, I will be listing the Hetalia Discords! If you have one of those fill out the application all the same.

What to look forward to

Things have been slow, so my next steps will be entirely on how much traction this blog gets. The way I have been working is having links in the blog that direct you to each book, then when enough new blogs have asked to be written in said books, I take them and copy them into the form of a post.

I will also be creating and reblogging the blog promos as per request from those who submitted an ap. If your blog also wants to advertise a new occasion, event, or point out some official Hetalia news go ahead and send it to my inbox or message box. You can also @ me, here's is to hoping tumblr does not break and I get to see it.

How to get your blog on the books?

Application is under the rules~ If you need any help please send an ask or DM ✨

Rules

Everyone has em

At this time if you have a muse/s blog, I would highly prefer that the blog you request to be listed for said muse/s be made for said muse/s. In short, don’t merge your main blog

If your blog appears to no longer exist, be it you changed the name and forgot to notify, deleted, ect, the blog will be taken down from the listing.

If your blog is to be placed on Hiatus please let me know and I will list it appropriately.

If your blog has not been active for two years, it will be considered inactive and taken down unless stated on hiatus (I will give that four years)

If your blog is listed as a Hetalia blog, and the blog has deviated with its majority being non-Hetalia for a year, it will be removed.

Should you find that your blog has been removed and the reasons listed above do not apply to your blog (aka your reviving welcome back, you have an updated username, coming out of hiatus) feel free to reapply! We would love to have you back!

Application! Congratulations! You made it to the end. Here is the information you will need to fill out and send to this blog. It helps me to properly list your blog/s. Please note I do not add blogs unless they ask. I don’t want to run into any mishaps is all.

Blog Name:

Blog Type: (Ask, Rp, Creator, Hetalia, Hetalia Group)

Blog Characters if your blog has specific muses it concentrates on: (single muse, multi muse, yes we list OCS)

Specifics: (listed down below)

Muse type: (1p, 2p, Nyo, chibi, human, AU, etc.)

If you’re an ask blog: (Cosplay, lit, art)

If you’re an Rp blog (Lit, Script)

If your a creator: (what do you create Fan Art, Atheistic, Cosplay, Handmade, Food, etc.)

If your a group: What sort of Hetalia Group do you run? Does it have a Discord?

Lastly, do you want us to reblog your character ad post?

Or have this blog promo with a custom promo template? We can totally do that!

And that is all I got for the moment! Don’t forget if you have any questions don’t be afraid to visit my inbox, your questions may help someone else or even me.

#Hetalia #aph #hws #Hetalia blog #tell your heta friends!

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justagalwhowrites · 1 year ago

Note

Hi again Bestie!

This is for the Enemies to Lovers Angsty Joel ask. I was thinking a new reader with show Canon Joel? But if that’s too much work and it works better with Lavender Joel and doc that’s fine too!!

aaa thank you so much for responding!!

OMG HI BESTIE!

Thank you so much for the ask and for being patient! I hope this fits with what you're looking for. Thank you for reading and reaching out! Love you!!!

(This ask came in from @dundienominee and they're tagged with permission HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE!!!)

Loathe/Lust

You have every reason to hate Joel fucking Miller. He knows it. It doesn't stop him from coming to you for help.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Legal age gap (reader is 27 and has known Joel since she was 25, Joel is 46.) SMUT :D Canon typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 7.4k

Spring, 2013

At the end of the world, there were very few constants.

One, you were fucking tired of jerky.

Two, there was never a shortage of people who needed healing.

Three, you hated Joel fucking Miller.

Everything else could shift and change but those things were facts.

Jerky was a staple of every meal because, with QZ food, there was no such thing as fresh. There was often no such thing as enough, either, but fuck were you tired of jerky.

And QZ life wasn’t easy on anybody. People needed a lot of patching up here. You’d come up through FEDRA school, 17 and a junior in high school when the outbreak happened. You were tapped early for your aptitude for biology and taught the very basics for helping to keep people alive. You didn’t know much about the world before, you’d been a teenager when things went to shit, but you knew what they taught you barely qualified as medicine. Still, you did everything you could to help people. It was nice, having purpose in this shitty life.

Then there was Joel. Joel fucking Miller. Joel fucking Miller, drug smuggler. Joel fucking Miller, guy who got your brother mixed up in his stupid illegal activities. Joel fucking Miller, the man who introduced your brother to fucking Marlene. Joel fucking Miller, the person you really blamed for your idiot brother taking off across the country to help the goddamn Fireflies as though there was a single fucking thing people could do to fix this disaster, to bring down FEDRA. Without Joel fucking Miller, Nathan never would have gotten hooked on drugs to begin with, never would have been vulnerable, never would have fallen for Marlene’s bullshit.

If it wasn’t for Joel fucking Miller, you wouldn’t be here, alone.

But you were.

And you hated him for it.

And he knew that you hated him for it.

Which is why it was a hell of a shock when there was a knock on your door late one Thursday night, just before curfew, and Joel was there, grimacing and panting for breath.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve,” you snapped, almost slamming the door on him. He threw his hand out and caught it before you could, his thick fingers closing around the edge of it.

“Not any happier about this than you are, Brat,” he spoke through clenched teeth, using the nickname your brother always called you. The name he’d called you for 22 years before he went across the country because of Joel fucking Miller. “But I don’t exactly got another choice.”

He adjusted his leg so you could see it in the light. A knife was embedded there, right where his femoral artery would be.

“Shit,” you muttered.

“Can’t exactly go to the clinic with this,” he said. “But you’re dumb enough to take that fuckin’ doctor’s oath seriously so…”

“Calling me dumb probably isn’t the smartest move when you want me to save your goddamn life,” you glared at him.

“I ain’t wrong.”

“Fuck you,” you sighed, opening your door wide and stepping out of the way. He limped inside, going for the couch. “Don’t even think about it, asshole. Kitchen table, if I’ve got to clean your blood off my floor I’m not trying to get it out of the fucking carpet.”

He grimaced but obeyed, heading for the table and sitting down heavily in one of your mismatched wooden chairs. You went to collect what you’d need to - hopefully - keep him from fucking dying in your apartment and came back, propping his injured leg up on another chair before pulling a third one up alongside him. You put a towel down below him and took your scissors and cut his jeans, exposing his leg where the knife was sticking out.

“At least you weren’t dumb enough to pull it out,” you muttered, examining the wound. “Know how big the knife is?”

“Big,” Joel said wryly.

You glared at him.

“I meant in inches. Not that you men can judge inches worth a damn…”

“I can,” he said. “And it’s about 8 inches. Trust me, I know.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course he did.

“Alright,” you said, actually meeting his gaze. His eyes were oddly gentle, a softness to them that made your heart ache a little when you looked at him too long. “I’m going to do what I can here and I have my shit set up and ready to go but if this thing shredded your femoral artery, you’re going to bleed out and die in just a few minutes and there won’t be a goddamn thing I can do about it. I’m as prepared as I can be for a heavy bleed but if you’re really fucked you’d need someone to take a blood vessel from one part of your body and use it to patch the femoral and it should go without saying that I can’t do that in my fucking kitchen. I could put a tourniquet on you and try to get you to the clinic but…”

“FEDRA would just finish me off,” he nodded. “I get it.”

You paused for a second, looking at him.

“I really will do everything I can,” you said, actually earnestly speaking to him for a change. You felt… bad for him. For Joel fucking Miller. You didn’t like the guy but you didn’t want him dead.

You pulled on gloves.

“Look, Brat, I know this is a win/win for you, alright?” He smirked a little. “Either I owe you or I’m dead and you don’t have to fuckin’ deal with me anymore. Promise I won’t haunt you if I finally got myself killed, OK?”

You nodded and tried to wrap your head around the idea that Joel fucking Miller might be dead at your kitchen table in a few minutes.

“Anything you want me to tell people if…”

“Don’t have much I’m leavin’ behind,” he said, actually serious now. You weren’t sure you’d ever heard him be serious before. He sighed. “Been fine with dyin’ for a while. About time it caught up with me. Just tell Tess and Tommy I’m sorry for fuckin’ ‘em over. Sorry to you, too, for draggin’ you into it. Don’t have anyone else.”

You nodded again. Why was Joel making you feel bad for him? Making you think of him like a person instead of some asshole now? When it’d be on you to keep his stupid ass alive?

“Right.”

You cracked your neck and loosened your body up before putting a hand on his bare thigh. His skin was warm and soft, his leg muscled and thick.

“This is going to hurt like a bitch,” you warned him. “But you need to stay completely still, otherwise something that wasn’t already fucked up might get fucked up. I’ve got to pull the blade out as straight as I can, try to get it to go the same path it went in, OK?”

“OK,” he nodded, his large hands going to the base of his thigh, like he was going to hold himself still. He looked at you again. “Meant what I said. It’s really… it’s alright if it kills me, OK? Don’t want you to feel like shit if it does. Not your fault.”

“Yeah, I’d hardly feel like shit for taking you out, Miller,” you rolled your eyes even though the idea of him dying mad your stomach turn. Maybe it was because it would be on your shoulders and you didn’t want anyone to die because of you. Even Joel fucking Miller, the man you hated more than anyone else. The thought that part of him wanted to die made your chest tight. You took a deep breath. “Here we go.”

You pulled the knife out as quickly as you could while also holding it steady - which, as it happens, wasn’t all that quick. Joel hissed in pain but, to his credit, didn’t move.

There was a fair bit of blood once the blade was freed but it wasn’t a full-blown arterial bleed. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good news, you’re not going to bleed out on my kitchen floor,” you set the knife down and grabbing gauze, putting pressure on the wound. “You missed your femoral artery. I still need to get this bleeding to slow down before I can stitch you up and you’ll need to take it easy for a bit but you’ll be fine.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he smirked a little but still. He looked relieved.

“You’re a constant disappointment so I’m used to it.”

He snorted and relaxed back into his seat, crossing his arms, watching you hold the gauze to his leg. His bare, strong leg. You swallowed.

“Hear from your brother at all?” He asked.

You looked up at him, eyes narrowed.

“Every now and then.”

“He doin’ OK?”

“Fine, from what I can tell,” you replied. “Doesn’t have anyone giving him a steady stream of fucking drugs which I’m sure helps.”

He shrugged.

“Demand is demand, Brat,” he said. “Don’t blame the supply.”

“Want me to go back in and cut your femoral artery?” You snapped. “Because I can make that happen.”

“Honey, I don’t think you could cut the femoral artery of someone who was tryin’ to kill you if you had the chance,” he smirked. “Not gonna do it to me. You should work on that.”

You just rolled your eyes and changed out the gauze.

“In just a second I’m going to get to stab you over and over with a needle,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes. “Think I’ll see just how close together I can get these stitches. Can’t wait.”

It didn’t take long for the bleeding to slow and you did, indeed, stab Joel fucking Miller 20 times in the leg with a needle.

“There,” you said, looking over your handiwork. “Looks like you’ll live to ruin lives another day.”

“Livin’ the dream,” there was a hint of bitterness in his voice. You set the needle down and took off your gloves before getting up.

“Alright, you’re not going home tonight,” you said, squatting down so your shoulder was tucked into his underarm. “It’s after curfew, anyway, and I’m not about to let you waste all the trouble I just went through by getting picked up by fucking FEDRA. I’m moving you to the couch and going to set you up so that leg is elevated. You can go home in the morning.”

He nodded and shifted in his chair until part of his weight was on you. He was big, bigger than you really realized, his weight more substantial than you’d expected. He was so broad. You hadn’t been close to him before, had never realized it. He sat heavily on the couch and he hefted his injured leg up as you grabbed some towels to stack below his ankle.

“Comfortable?” You asked, hands on your hips.

“Think there might be a pea under one of these cushions…” You flipped him off with a roll of your eyes. He smiled. “I’m good. Thank you. For… well, all of it. Appreciate it.”

“Yeah well,” you shrugged. “I’ll work on that so next time I can finish you off.”

He smirked.

“Whatever you say, Brat.”

You woke up early but Joel was already gone.

You didn’t see him again until he showed up at your door almost a week later, not long after you got home from a shift at the clinic.

“Who’d you piss off this time?” You asked.

“Just you.”

He held out a book and you frowned and took it. It was Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

“What…”

“Saw you had some of her on your bookshelf there,” he nodded toward it. “But didn’t see that one and it’s the only one I’d fuckin’ heard of… Anyway. Thought you’d like it.”

“I do but…” you turned the book over in your hands. It was a nice copy, with a cloth cover and a ribbon bookmark. It would have cost a small fortune on the black market. You looked up at him. “Why are you giving me this?”

He shrugged.

“Saw it, thought of you. Wanted to say thanks for not killin’ me.”

“You really don’t…”

“I know.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “See you around, Brat.”

He left while you were still staring at the book.

It was three months before he was back at your door again. You’d read Pride and Prejudice twice since then, disappearing into the story, reluctantly thankful to Joel fucking Miller for the best escape you’d had from the QZ in years.

This time, it was after curfew and he was clutching his arm, soaking wet as it poured rain outside. You just sighed and wordlessly opened your door.

He came in and sat at your kitchen table while you grabbed towels and gave him one.

“Don’t have a knife lodged in there do you?” You asked, grabbing your stash of medical supplies.

“Not this time,” he dried his face and roughly pressed the towel to his hair. “But it’s a nasty cut that hasn’t stopped bleedin’, think I need stitches.”

“Can you take the shirt off?” You asked, going to the kitchen to wash your hands throughly.

“Think so,” he called after you.

You stopped in your tracks when you turned around. The shirt was off and Joel was… fucking beautiful. His chest and arms and shoulders were broad and sculpted, his stomach a little softer and inviting. You wanted to touch him, not as someone treating him but as someone experiencing him, enjoying him. You shook yourself mentally.

He was Joel fucking Miller. You were not going to get turned on by Joel fucking Miller.

“You just love giving me an excuse to stab you repeatedly don’t you?” You said, sitting in the char beside him and pulling on gloves.

“Figured you’d be bored,” he smirked. “Got a big knife if you want to try to take me out this time…”

He nodded to his belt and you looked down instinctively. He did, indeed, have a large knife strapped to his side. You rolled your eyes.

“Sit still while I do this,” you demanded.

“Yes ma’am.”

You disinfected and cleaned the wound before you started stitching it. You could hear Joel grimacing as you did and you tried to ignore just how good his damn arm looked as you worked on it.

“How’s Nathan?” He asked after a minute. You looked away from his wound to glare at him. “What?”

“He’s not here,” you snapped. “You can’t get him involved in your shit, can’t get him running drugs for you again, can’t get him putting his life on the line to feed his damn addiction, you can’t take advantage of his weakness so you can make more goddamn ration cards! So stop fucking asking!”

He was quiet and you went back to stitching.

“S’not why I ask,” he said after a moment.

“Then why do you?” You kept your eyes on your work this time.

“I’m not the one who got him hooked on that shit, you know,” he said, ignoring your question. You scoffed. “It’s true, I’m not. He was hooked well before I met the guy…”

“And how’d that happen?” You asked, harsher than you really meant to be.

��His dealer was a piece of shit,” Joel said. “Asshole named Robert. He knows who’s most vulnerable, who’s desperate, who he can overcharge and drive into debt. Nathan owed him money. A lot of fuckin’ money. He didn’t have it and Robert wasn’t too happy about that. So… I intervened.”

“Intervened?”

Joel shrugged and you glared at him, needle in your fingers.

“Sorry,” he said. “But… Robert’s an asshole but he’s smart enough to know that I’d fuck up him and his guys. So, I made him back off. But Nathan still needed the drugs so…”

“So he took up with you,” you finished for him, making the last stitch and tying it off. You cut the thread and sat back in your chair.

“Somethin’ like that,” Joel said, titling his arm to look at your work. “Wasn’t tryin’ to get him into trouble. Was tryin’ to keep him out of it. Seemed like a good kid. Didn’t deserve to get killed because some asshole was takin’ advantage.”

“And you expect me to believe you?”

“Not really,” he shrugged. “But still. You deserved to know. And I do hope your brother’s doin’ OK. I know you think I’m bad news but the Fireflies ain’t exactly the Girl Scouts.”

“Well, nothing is anymore, right?” You took off the gloves and started cleaning up. “Sit tight, I’ll find you a shirt. It’s after curfew because apparently you can’t piss people off at a reasonable time. You can take the couch again.”

“See, Brat, it’s all part of my plan,” he smirked. “Come here too late for you to send me home so I can sleep on your strangely comfortable couch…”

You rolled your eyes and found a shirt your ex-boyfriend had abandoned at your place when you’d broken up. You handed it to him and he went to the couch, not needing your help this time.

“Try not to sleep on the side with the stitches,” you said. “That should go without saying but…”

“But you think I’m an idiot?” He asked, brows raised, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Something like that,” you said, turning to to go bed yourself. But you paused, doubling back. He’d settled back in on the couch, his uninjured arm behind his head. He frowned at you, questioningly. “Thanks. For the book, I mean. Hadn’t read Pride and Prejudice since before the outbreak but it was nice, reading it again. Though I think I’d rather you owe me a favor than get the book…”

“Still owe you the favor,” he said and then looked at the spot on his arm where the stitches were. “Two, now.”

You smiled a little. At Joel fucking Miller.

“Good to know.”

He was gone by morning.

The next time you were able to talk to Nathan via radio, you asked how he’d meet Joel. You asked about Robert.

“Oh yeah,” he said, as though this should have been obvious to you. “Think I owe that guy my life, honestly…”

“He was selling you drugs that could have killed you, Nathan,” you wished he were about 2,000 miles closer so you could grab him and shake him.

“It’s all relative,” he said. “He sure as shit didn’t do to me what Robert did, I’ll say that.”

Joel fucking Miller.

What if your brother was only alive because of Joel fucking Miller?

It was two months before you saw him again.

This time, it was at the clinic. He was sitting in one of the small triage areas, just a curtain around the bed and you sighed when you saw him. He smirked.

“What’d you do now?” You asked, looking down at the chart.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m here to lie about symptoms so you’ll give me antibiotics to take back to Tommy. Think an injury of his got infected outside. Don’t want anyone lookin’ to closely at it.”

“Jesus, Miller,” you sighed. “Alright, what symptoms do you supposedly have?”

He rattled them off and you nodded along before sighing again.

“Let me get you antibiotics,” you said. “It’s a miracle none of you have fucking died, you realize that.”

“And I’m sure that’s a big disappointment for you,” he smirked.

“Every goddamn day.”

You went to the medicine cupboard and unlocked it, grabbing the pills you needed before closing it again when a strong hand grabbed your shoulder and ripped you around, so fast it made your head spin. You recognized the man standing so close to you that you could smell him. He’d been in the clinic a few times over the last few weeks, always complaining of pain. Everyone turned him away for drug seeking behavior but you could tell, the last time he was here, that he was getting desperate.

“Look you little bitch,” his large hand went for your throat before you had a chance to even fully realize what was happening, your eyes going wide. He thrust you back against the cabinet with a thud, knocking your head against it so hard that you felt your brain rattle in your skull. You dropped the bottle in your hand and it clattered to the ground as you instinctively clawed at his hand. He tightened his grip. “I’ve tried being nice, I’ve tried asking. You’re going to give me what I fucking need or I’ll kill you and get it from someone else, understand?”

He squeezed tighter, your vision starting to get spotty. You couldn’t breathe and it’s not like you’d taken a deep breath before diving in the deep end of your parents’ pool. You wouldn’t last long without being able to breathe. Panic flared, acute and sharp, and your body scrambled to fight, to kick and scratch and punch to get a breath but it wasn’t working, he wasn’t letting you go. Your head was getting light and your vision was already narrowing when, suddenly the hand disappeared.

You collapsed to the ground, coughing and gasping for air and looked up to see Joel on top of the man, a knee in his chest as he brought his fist down on his face again and again and again. The man tried to get his hands up to protect his face, then tried to land a hit on Joel but neither worked. Joel was almost eerily quiet as he pummeled the man, grunting with every blow, an almost unhinged look on his face.

“Joel!” You tried to yell for him as you pushed yourself to your hands and knees. Your body felt so weak compared to just a few minutes before. You couldn’t really talk, an unfamiliar, raspy sound the only thing that left you. You tried again, anyway. “Joel!”

You managed to make it to your feet and caught Joel’s elbow as he pulled it back one more time and he stopped, turning to look at you with that mad look on his face but it vanished the second he saw you. He dropped his arms, panting for breath, his eyes running over your face and neck. You pulled him back from the man as a nurse ran over to start examining Joel’s victim.

One of your hands went to your throat, cradling it gently and feeling for damage and you pointed to the pill bottle with the other one.

“Should get out of here,” you managed, though it sounded more like a garbled mess than actual words. But he seemed to understand. He picked up the bottle and gave you a last, lingering look before leaving the clinic.

One of doctors looked you over and said you’d be fine eventually, you just needed to rest. They offered you some pain pills - the same ones Nathan had been hooked on, the same ones the man today had been willing to kill you for - and you turned them down, just trudging home and collapsing on the couch when you got there.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been attacked. It was the end of the world, after all, it had happened a few times before. But it was the first time you had the feeling that you were about to die. Even when you’d been held at knife point for ration cards you’d had the feeling that everything was going to be fine. Yeah, you’d be short on some ration cards that day but you’d be fine.

Not this time.

You tried to relax, drifting in and out of consciousness on your couch, trying not to think of the man with his hand around your throat. The way his fingers had bruised you, the way his palm had crushed into your windpipe. The ruddy tone of his skin, the desperate and angry look in his eyes, the stink of his sweat. It was all there, every time you closed your eyes and relaxed too much it was there.

You’d just drifted off again when there was a knock on your door. You groaned and forced yourself off the couch and opened the door, your hand cradling your throat. You were half expecting it to be a coworker, coming by to check in on you.

Instead, it was Joel.

“Don’t try n’talk if it’s gonna hurt your throat,” he said. You frowned a little at him. He had a canvas bag over one shoulder. “Can I come in?”

“Not going to try and finish the job right?” You asked, voice strained and scratchy.

He rolled his eyes.

“Move, Brat.”

You made a face but stepped aside, anyway. Joel went past you to your kitchen, put the bag on the counter and started rifling through your cabinets. You followed him, frowning.

“What…” your hand was still against your throat, voice raw.

“Will you go sit down?” He gave you a look over his shoulder before going back to sifting through your things. “Jesus Christ…”

You threw your hands up but obeyed, sitting at your kitchen table and watching as Joel finally found what he was looking for. A pot, apparently. He put it on your stove and turned it on before going into the bag and pulling out a jar that he emptied into the pot. He stirred it for a moment before going into your freezer and finding the ice. He put some handfuls into a towel and came to the table, pulling out a chair and moving it so it was right in front of yours. He sat down and was so close to you that his thigh slotted between yours and you just sat there, looking at him, eyes wide.

“Move your hand,” he nodded toward it and you realized you were still holding your neck. You obeyed and he gently took your chin in his large hand - his knuckles cut and bruised - adjusting your head so he could examine your throat. “Damn, Honey, he got you real good.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Hush,” he ordered. “Hold your head still.”

He released your chin and lightly trailed his callused fingers over your throat, his touch lingering over where you knew was probably damaged and bruised. He took the ice in the towel and pressed it delicately to your skin.

“See, you do know how to listen,” he said. “Even does you good every now and then.”

You scoffed but you took the ice bundle from him, your fingers brushing his as you did. He sat back a little, his eyes running over the rest of you, his leg still between yours, the other brushing the outside of your thigh.

“He get you anywhere else?” He asked eventually. You shook your head a little. Joel nodded. “Good.”

“Why are you here?” You asked, voice a little clearer than it had been the last time you spoke.

“You need to eat somethin’,” he said. “And I owed you.”

“Why don’t I get to pick the favors?” You glared at him.

“I’ll still owe ya,” he shook his head a little. “Dyin’ to know what you’d cash it in on.”

“You and me both.”

It didn’t take long for the soup he brought to be done and he poured you a bowl of it. He got you both glasses of beer, also from the bag he’d brought. Your eyes went a little wide at your first bite of soup.

“What?” He frowned.

“This is good,” you said, going back for another bite.

Joel laughed.

“Don’t act so surprised. I’m not totally useless.”

“How’s your hand?” You asked, looking at his knuckles. He flexed his fingers for a moment.

“Fine,” he shrugged. “Had worse.”

You considered him for a moment. He frowned.

“What.”

“Why’d you do it?”

His frown deepened.

“Do what?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Save me. And beat the shit out of that guy. You hate me. Why’d you do it? Was it just that you didn’t want to lose out on the person who will stitch you up in the middle of the night or…”

“Don’t hate you,” he said, taking a sip of beer.

You scoffed.

“You hate me,” you said, taking another bite of soup. The weirdly good soup. “I know you hate me.”

“How do you know I hate you.”

“Because I hate you,” you said, though you were starting to think that wasn’t true anymore.

“Yeah, noticed that,” he smirked a little.

“You call me brat…”

“Nate called you brat,” he replied. “And you are a brat. Seemed appropriate.”

“You’re never nice to me,” you said. “Well, except right now…”

“You’re never nice to me,” he shrugged. “Didn’t want to make your hatin’ me something that wasn’t fun for you, figured I should be mean back.”

“Hating you isn’t for fun you dick,” you glared at him.

“It’s not?” He looked a little amused by it all. “What’s it for then?”

“It’s for ruining my brother’s life!” You dropped the spoon into the bowl with a clatter and set the ice pack down with a little too much force. “For getting him mixed up in your fucking smuggling operation and getting him involved with the fucking Fireflies and making it so he left town and I’m just left here, alone! I’m alone, I have no one and nothing and it’s all your fucking fault!”

You weren’t entirely sure when you started crying but you were. The overwhelming, gasping, choking kind of crying that you had to fight to breathe through. You could feel it in your chest, the pressure of the tears building up behind your eyes, every pain you’d suffered the past year welling up and bursting free at once, all of it directed at Joel.

“Oh, Honey,” he leaned forward and gently took your face in his hand, drying your cheek with his thumb. His legs were on either side of yours. He delicately pulled you against him, your face going to his shoulder, his arms wrapping around you, cradling you securely against his broad body. “I’ve got you, it’s OK…”

You stayed against him like that for a long time. Longer than you wanted to admit to. But it felt nice to be there in Joel’s arms. You didn’t have anyone here, didn’t really have friends outside of work. Your ex-boyfriend had broken things off a few months back and the idea of dating again the QZ sounded hellish so you just hadn’t done it. Joel, in that moment, felt like someone you had. He was someone that made it so you weren’t totally alone.

After a while, you’d calmed a bit, your tears slowing and your breaths coming easier. You kept your face buried in Joel’s shoulder, shifting a little so your nose was pressing against his neck.

“You didn’t answer the question,” you said, voice thick and rough from the tears and your injury. “Why’d you save me?”

He sat back from you ever so slightly, his hands taking you by the shoulders and guiding you back up so you were looking him in the eye. You wiped your nose on the back of your hand.

“You might hate me but I never hated you,” he said, his eyes oddly soft and earnest. “Not once.”

“Joel,” you said quietly. His hand went from your shoulder to your cheek, his fingers threading into your hair. You were suddenly, acutely aware of how little distance there was between the two of you. It seemed like too much.

He slowly, cautiously moved closer to you, his eyes going from your own to your lips and back again but he stopped just short of kissing you. Like he was waiting for you to close the distance, asking your permission.

You gave it.

You pressed your mouth to his and it was delicate at first, your lips brushing his, feather light but electric. Then, Joel’s grip on you got stronger, his kiss growing firmer and more insistent, his tongue slipping into your mouth and tasting you. You let out a little moan, an ache growing between your legs.

Joel released your face and his hands traveled to your waist and he adjusted as he pulled you closer so that your legs went around him and you were suddenly in his lap. You could feel his hard length through his jeans and you realized that he hadn’t been joking about knowing the size of the knife. You groaned a little, grinding your hips down against him, and Joel moaned into your mouth, his hands sliding down and around your back, fingers spread wide over you.

“You sure about this?” He asked, peppering kisses along your jawline between words.

“Yes,” you panted, needy. “I want you…”

“Fuck, Honey,” he breathed. “No idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

His mouth reached the damaged skin of your throat and he delicately kissed each bruise on your neck, his lips warm and soft. His fingers lightly traced your bruises.

“He still alive?” He pulled back from you enough to look up at you from your position on his lap. You draped your arms over his shoulders and nodded. He frowned. “Shoulda killed him for touchin’ you…”

“Not worth it,” you said, kissing him again, harder this time. His hands moved to your front, unbuttoning your shirt.

“Yes, you are,” he said, his mouth close enough that his lips brushed yours when he spoke. “Promise you, you are.”

He nudged your arms down and slid your shirt off, pulling away from you to look down at your half naked body.

“Fuck, Honey,” he groaned, his large hands coming to your stomach and spreading warm and wide against you, moving over you, skimming over your skin with his rough fingers. He pulled you tight to him as his hands went for your bra clasp, unhooking it as he pressed his lips to your shoulder. He took it off, too, his hands finding your breasts, cradling them in his large palms, his thick thumbs brushing your nipples. “Jesus Christ, got no right lookin’ this fuckin’ good…”

He kissed over the swell of flesh before he found your nipple, sucking it into his mouth, licking the tip with his tongue, making you moan, your back arching into him. He did the same to your other breast, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your back like he couldn’t get you close enough. When he released you, he looked up at you, panting and desperate.

“Lemme take you to bed,” his hands slipped down your back to your hips, pulling you down firmly against his hard cock. “Need inside you…”

You just nodded quickly and his hands moved to your ass, holding onto you from below as he stood with you in his arms. You let out a little yelp as he did before he carried you down the hall to your bedroom.

He lay you down so gently on the bed it was almost shocking, kissing you deeply as he did. You fumbled with his shirt until it was unbuttoned and you could slide it off his broad shoulders and cast it aside. Joel moved to your jeans, unbuttoning them and hooking his fingers around them and your panties, pulling them down your body together, crawling back and kissing down your body as he did.

“Oh Honey,” he said once your pants were on the floor and he was kneeling between your thighs. He was looking down at your dripping slit. He spread your legs a little wider, opening the core of you to his gaze, before he ran a single finger over your folds. He left it against your clit, giving it the gentlest pressure. “You’re so fuckin’ wet. You achin’ for me?”

“Fuck, yes,” you were practically squirming below him, your whole body raw and needy, the heat in you burning. “Please Joel…”

“Gonna make you come first, Honey,” his finger started working in slow circles, the pressure growing. “Make sure you’re ready for me. Get this pussy so fuckin’ wet for me.”

He sank a thick finger inside you, moving his thumb to your clit, and he moaned as you whimpered at his touch.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” the hand not working your pussy went to your lower stomach, his fingers spread out wide against your skin. “Jesus Christ, you feel incredible, fuckin’ incredible and that’s just my finger, fuck…”

He worked you harder and you rocked your hips against him, your hands going to your breasts and holding them, squeezing them.

“Holy shit,” he moaned at the sight. “Fuck, need you to come Honey, need you to come for me so I can get inside you, come on baby.” He added another finger and hooked them up into the softest part of your core, making your breath catch in your throat. You started tightening around him, the heat in you growing. “There she is, can feel it, come on Honey, come all over my fingers, you can do it. Come for me, don’t make me beg for it, baby, need you too fuckin’ bad…”

You came, gasping his name when you did, your hold on your breasts relaxing as your whole body throbbed with your release.

“Fuck, there we go,” he worked you through your orgasm, his fingers never stopping. “Doin’ so good coming on these fingers Honey, getting yourself all ready for my cock. Gonna take such good care of you, baby, promise I will.”

Your body went slack and he smiled and almost devilish smile, sliding his fingers from your body and sucking them clean before he opened his pants and took them off. He climbed between your legs, crawling up your pliant form, kissing a trail up your body until his lips were on yours and you could feel his thick length brushing your dripping core.

“What if I want you to?” You panted, your hands running over his bare back.

“Want me to what?” He asked.

“Beg for it.”

He smiled a little.

“Please Honey,” he whispered, his nose brushing yours before he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “Please, let me inside you. I’m past fuckin’ want you, baby, I’m past needing you. I swear not havin’ you is gonna fuckin’ kill me. I will beg you all damn night if you want, I’ll beg you all damn year if it’ll make you give yourself to me.”

You laughed softly, your fingers twisting in his hair as you pulled him closer.

“Guess you should fuck me then,” you smiled before you kissed him.

He felt as desperate and needy as he sounded, his thick head catching on your entrance before he pushed into you in one long, firm stroke. You gasped at the stretch of him, feeling every inch of his cock as he opened you to him, the tip of him finding a place inside you that you didn’t think anyone had reached before. You were so exquisitely full it was like your body had been holding space for him your whole life. It was something entirely new, so good you were almost happy the world ended just so you could find a feeling like this. You looked up at him, your eyes wide, wondering if he felt it too.

“Fuck,” he panted, holding himself within you as your body adjusted to taking him, his eyes searching yours. “Jesus Christ, I’ve never… fuck, Honey, I ain’t gonna last long, you feel too good, too goddamn good.”

“Joel,” you breathed. It was all you could think to say, every thought that wasn’t him gone from your head. Your pussy was already starting to tighten around him, just from the feel of his cock inside you. “Fuck, please…”

“You already about to come baby?” He asked as he started to move inside you, slow and heavy at first. You moaned and nodded quickly. He thrust into you, hard and firm. “Fuck, fuck, not gonna last when you come, can I come in you, need to come inside you, fuck Honey I need to come inside you.”

You just nodded again even though you weren’t on birth control and you sure as fuck didn’t know what was happening between the two of you outside of this bed and the fact that you knew this wouldn’t be a one time thing. It couldn’t be, not when he felt this good, like he’d been made to fuck you and you’d been made to take him into yourself. You wanted him to leave part of himself inside you, plant it deep so you could feel him there all warm and wet tomorrow.

With your nod, he started fucking you - really fucking you. His cock was so deep when he pushed into you you could feel the thick weight of him pressing up against your skin, like you’d be able to see him inside your body if there was enough space between the two of you to look. He pulled back almost totally, leaving just his head inside your grasping hole before fucking back into you, every stroke hard and desperate and your nails sank into his back as your hips rose up to meet his on every thrust. You never wanted him to leave your body, wanted him to make a home deep inside you so you could always be this full, this complete. His body worked your clit and your pussy got tighter and tighter around him, your head swimming with the pressure of it all, your body so needy it felt like you might burst.

“Want to come with you,” you whimpered. “Please, come for me Joel, I’m so fucking close, want you to come deep inside me, please…”

“Fuck Honey,” his thrusts stuttered and he groaned. “Gonna fill you up so good, leave this pussy so fuckin’ full of me, fill you up again and again…”

He thrust deep, so deep it almost hurt and you felt him start to pulse inside you. Your hands went to his lower back, pressing him impossibly deeper and you cried out as you came around him, your channel milking his cock, throbbing around him until there was nothing left inside him to give to you.

He collapsed on you as you went limp below him and he pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he panted for breath. He stayed inside you as his cock softened and you could feel him leaking out of you.

“Holy shit,” he said eventually, kissing your throat and then your chin and then your lips. He kissed you deeper as he slid out of you and lap beside you. You hesitated for a moment but he reached over and pulled you on top of him, so your head was on his chest and your legs were nestled between his own. His cock was wet against your skin and you liked it, the reminder that he’d just been inside of you. “Fuck, Honey…”

“Yeah,” you laughed a little. His hand went to your back, tracing up and down your spine.

“Still hate me?” You could hear Joel fucking Miller’s cocky smile on his voice.

“I will if you never fuck me again,” you kissed his chest.

He laughed.

“Don’t gotta worry about that. Even though you still found a way to be a brat during the best goddamn sex I’ve ever had.”

You smirked.

“Would it be the best sex you’ve ever had if I didn’t?”

“Guess not,” he said. “S’it OK if I stay the night? Think we got some shit to talk through but I ain’t got it in me to do it tonight.”

“If you insist,” you teased, pressing yourself a little tighter to him. He held you a little closer. “Night, asshole.”

You said it the way you’d say baby or love. You meant it that way, too.

He laughed a little.

“Night, Brat.”

His voice was soft, like it was when he called you honey. Something told you he meant it that way, too.

#joel miller x female reader #fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller fanfiction #enemies to lovers

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gatorbites-imagines · 10 months ago

Note

Hey you said in a post you were looking for requests for invincible don't know if your still wanting requests for it or not but I was really hoping for a wholesome damien darkblood x reader story. he and Robot are so far my favourites I just started the show though, not done with season 1 yet.

Damien Darkblood x male reader

Headcanons

I love robot too, hes really grown on me the more episodes I’ve watched.

Damien Darkblood is a pretty blunt and dry witted person, or rather, demon. He takes his job as a detective very seriously, wanting to find the truth and bring forth justice. This also means your demon lover would be working way into the night, and would be gone for longer periods of time to do cases.

In the beginning this would have unnerved you, mainly because the cases he takes are dangerous and could put him in danger. Your lover does his best to reassure you though, even with his flat and dry tone, since the different tones in human language confuse him.

You two would have likely met during one of these cases, since Damien doesn’t really go out to look for a date or partner. This would either mean you were a victim, a witness, a suspect, or maybe a hero or detective. But for the funs of it, lets imagine you are another detective.

You wouldn’t be doing cases to the same level as Damien, seeing as he can sense crimes that happened through touch, giving him a different view than what you, a normal human can spot.

Damien tends to see things from his own perspective, meaning he doesn’t see the full picture at times, but being his lover means you have an easier time getting him to broaden his horizons compared to everyone else your lover works with.

You both being detectives also means your apartment or home looks like something out of those detective shows, with different corkboards on the walls, with hundreds of pictures or notes, and different colored strings connecting it in patterns only you two understand.

When it comes to detective work, there are times you’ll tag along on Damien’s cases, mainly when he has to interact with others like Cecil or the guardians of the globe, seeing as his dry and cut tone tends to annoy people. You won’t take them insulting him as casually as they do though, so it’s a bit of a give and take for other people involved.

After long days of little sleep and nonstop work, you always end up dragging Damien to rest somewhere. As a demon, Damien wouldn’t need to rest, eat, drink or sleep like a human does, but seeing as he loves you, Damien would go along if you just wanted to cuddle.

He will act tough, but you always catch his tail wagging a little when you cuddle, and you scratch the back of his neck or under his chin. Hes nice and cold as well to your surprise, so there’s no need to worry about cuddling in the summer.

Because I said so, Damien purrs, but only around you and only when you are alone. There are always cases hanging over the both of you, but you two decided to take days where you put off the work and spend it together. This is when Damien is most likely to purr.

Hes your personal weighted blanket, since hes got a stocky build. Him laying on top of you is the best if you like that kind of stuff, plus, his tail somehow always ends up wrapped around some part of you. This also goes when you are laying on top of him though.

Damiens big hands are also great at giving massages. Your demon lover always jokes in his dry tone that you humans are so frail, since you get sore muscles from all the walking or running you guys do. But he always ends up massaging your legs and feet if you need it.

His claws are very nice as well, as he runs them through your hair when you cuddle. He would never scratch you, your lover never wanting to hurt you, but he will go out of his way to put just enough pressure for it to feel good.

If it follows canon and Damien gets sent back to hell by Cecil, you know the ritual to bring him back. You also rub it in Cecils face when it turns out Damien was right, and what little respect you had for the guy will be gone. You wont save him from your lover bluntness again after that.

#male reader #damien darkblood #invincible #damien darkblood imagine #damien darkblood headcanon #damien darkblood x male reader #damien darkblood x reader #invincible imagine #invincible headcanon #invincible x male reader #invincible x reader #invincible series #invincible show #invincible comic #invincible amazon #two tired detectives in looooove

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wannab-urs · 11 months ago

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The King Has Lost His Crown

Pairing: ex!Dieter Bravo x gn!Reader

Summary: Dieter shows up on your doorstep

Tags: dieter being a pathetic loser, drug mention, angst WC: 703

A/N: This is my entry for @freelancearsonist's ABBA Drabble Challenge. I could have gone smutty with this, but I went angsty instead. I may still write the smut version later idk.

Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You sit down on your couch with a glass of wine, settling in for a nice evening of watching mindless TV. Your phone starts buzzing – Dieter Bravo is calling you. You’ve removed his contact, but you couldn’t ever bring yourself to block the number you know by heart. You hit the red Fuck You button and toss your phone to the side.

Throughout an entire episode of some shitty reality show, your phone lights up with texts. You finally pick it up to read them:

Please answer the phone

Its Dieter

I miss u

Can u call me pls?

Baby

Baby ]:

Just as you’re about to tell him to fuck off, your doorbell rings. You check the ring camera and see that he’s standing on your fucking porch. You hope LA suddenly has a cold snap and he freezes to death out there. Okay, maybe that’s a little harsh. But he could stand to lose a toe or two.

He rings the doorbell again – starts just continuously pressing the button until the sound drives you so crazy you have to open the door. And he’s standing there looking like an abandoned puppy in his brown fuzzy coat and a pair of basketball shorts that are too long. You used to find his disheveled appearance endearing, but now it just adds to how pathetic he seems.

“You have 10 seconds to explain where you found the audacity to show up at my house, Bravo.”

He winces at your icy tone, brow furrowing over those pretty brown eyes. He tugs a few strands of his hair, making it stick up even more.

“Baby, just let me in and I’ll explain everything.”

“No. Explain here.”

Dieter sighs, world weary, long and drawn out. You go to close the door on him, but he shoves a croc covered foot into the crack before you can get it closed.

“Wait!”

You open the door enough to see him, but not enough to let him push his way inside the house.

“What happened with your new girl, Dieter?”

“She wasn’t you.”

For a second you almost believe him. Almost. But liars never change.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. What actually happened?”

“What do you think happened?” He mutters, rolling his eyes.

“I think you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants, as usual, and she got fed up.”

“Yeah? Well. Maybe you’re right,” his tone shifts to something like shame, his face turning red. “Are you gonna let me in?”

“Oh absolutely not. You really think you can show up here after getting dumped for cheating on the girl you cheated on me with? Do you think I’m stupid?”

“No,” his brow furrows even deeper. “Of course not. I just thought–”

“It must be so hard for you. All the drugs and pretty people you could ever desire and all you ever do is fuck it up. You’re a disaster. A fucking disgrace. I bet your mamá is real fuckin proud of you. Get out of my face, Dieter. Get off my porch. Go fuck someone else’s life up.”

You slam the door in his face and start crying immediately. The tears come faster than you can wipe them from your face, leaving tracks down your cheeks.

You loved him, you really did. Maybe you still do. But you can’t put yourself through that bullshit again.

–-

Dieter slumps down on the doorstep, not quite ready to accept defeat. He thinks you’ll come out soon, offer him a cup of tea and a snack, maybe cuddle with him on the couch.

His life is a mess, but the one good thing he’s ever had was you. He lost you and it was completely his fault. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever get over you. He needs to win you back, prove he can be a good person, a good partner.

He leans back against the door, prepping for an uncomfortable night – sober and stuck outside. He falls asleep eventually and wakes with the sunrise. You never came out to get him. Didn’t even offer him a blanket. You are well and truly done with him, and he only has himself to blame.

#abba drabble challenge #freelancearsonist #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo fics #Dieter Bravo fanfiction #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #The Bubble fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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nattvingen · 25 days ago

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Blood Elf Focused Fic Recs (2020+)

I wanted to highlight some newer works that haven't accumulated as many hits as the older fics perhaps, so here's my list of belf fics that have come out in the past few years! And the theme seems to be "Rommath", I'll be real. Do check out the authors, many of them have more fics to read, these are just a few of my favorites!

As always, ships and ratings and tags vary, so do be careful and responsible for your own fic consumption! <3

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first times & first experiences by hail_hex

Explicit | Rommath/Halduron | Transman!Hal, Dom/sub, Bondage, Magic use for sex, Banter

Halduron is easy, without a doubt, but he is not easy to pin down, to hold down, or to keep down. It takes a steadier, heavier, and more consistent hand than anyone so far has ever had, he supposes. Hardly anyone is willing to use the force it takes, whether it’s about their personal preferences or his standing or a mix of both, and those who are have thus far lacked either the ethical code that such force necessitates or the nerve to keep from folding in the face of the most light, playful resistance. He knows both types well enough without testing the waters to know it’s not worth the metaphorical dice roll. And maybe it’s something about Rommath, too. He can’t be sure and doesn’t particularly care either way, but it wouldn’t surprise him.

(I LOVE this one!!! It's smoking hot, and their dynamic is so fun, and Hal is such a shitster (affectionate) and gets what he deserves for it: just the way I always imagine these two together! Magic should be used in sex MORE, especially when talking blood elves, this is everything one could hope for and more <3)

The sunshine and the sound of the heart by syrosaur

Explicit | Rommath/Aethas | Dom/sub, Age difference, Office sex, Mutual pining while still fucking

Rommath never mixes personal matters with professional ones. In Aethas' case, he had long ago lost the line between personal and professional.

(These two are a MESS, emotionally, and I for one love it <3 They have this tension and struggle between them, a constant push-and-pull, and barriers built up so tall that they can't seem to get through them – not that this stops them from still fucking about their feelings!!! Steaming hot smut with a touch of character study sprinkled in, this is peak Rom/Aethas to me 👌)

A House and Everything by mikacolt

Teen | Halduron/Aethas | Magic injuries, Cabin fic, Only one bed

Aethas and Halduron go for a walk.

(The worldbuilding sprinkled in here, and the characterizations, it's so, so fun and nice, everything is wonderful and nothing hurts :'3 Their dialog is so sweet and the warmth built between them as they explore the forest of Quel'Thalas is a balm on the soul <3)

Bring Me My Blades by mikacolt

Gen | Aethas & Lor'themar | Purge of Dalaran, Missing scene, Hurt/comfort, Character study

Aethas arrives in Silvermoon just after being kicked out of Dalaran. He only has a short time to catch his breath before Lor'themar wants to talk to him.

(Aethas ;_; After the Purge, he is lost and unmoored... Good thing he finds someone to lean on, someone who will talk sense until he can find his footing again. Poignant and solemn, I love anything dealing with the aftermath of that event and this hits all the right notes for me <3)

Collisions by Aliffo

Gen | Belo'vir/Vandellor | Meet-cute, Fluff

When Apprentice Belo’vir’s arcane familiar slips his grasp and collides with the legs of a young priest, Belo’vir seizes the opportunity to strike up a conversation. A short, fluffy tale of Belo’vir and Vandellor first meeting many, many years ago.

(The former Grand Magister and High Priest as young men, and their first meeting! ;w; These two! I think they're so precious here, young and fumbling and a little awkward but so sweetly sincere, it's really wonderful <3)

Rise with the Sun by Sunstrider

Teen | Kael'thas/Rommath | Domestic fluff, Character study, Bittersweet

Kael'thas tries to convince Rommath to spend a late morning with him. Rommath is recalcitrant.

(A morning spent together, a prince and his closest advisor... It's a gently soft snapshot of a morning probably like so many others but with such a punch to the feels at the end. If you like warm, intimate mornings dappled in sunshine and fragrant with tea, this fic is for you :'3)

Temples by thisdyingbreed

Explicit | Lor'themar/Rommath | Heavy themes, Dubious consent, Grief, Depression, Alcohol abuse, Drunk sex

All Rommath wants to do is remember the past, but the present keeps mocking him.

(This one is actually incredible, especially if you enjoy being stabbed repeatedly in the heart. I'd say, read with caution, when you're in a stable mindset. Maybe I'm exaggerating a little, but this fic always takes me out at the knees with how painfully accurate the loss and grief and despair is portrayed... I adore it, but man, it is heavy. Take care of yourselves!)

Across the Grand Magister's Desk by asimina

Explicit | Rommath/Aethas/Lor'themar | Dom/sub, Office sex, Exhibitionism, Humiliation, Spitroasting

As Grand Magister, many of Rommath's afternoons are spent behind his desk, hard at work. Occasionally, Aethas is invited to join so long as he follows the rules. His patience is tested.

(Aethas spends a VERY special afternoon in the Grand Magister's office, with some friends! Aethas' struggle is so compelling, and this whole thing is fucking hot as hell start to finish... Aethas has One Task, but will he manage it? Read to find out!)

On a Wisp of Smoke by asimina

Explicit | Halduron/Rommath+Aethas | WIP, Recreational drug use, Flirting, Developing relationship, High sex, Exhibitionsim, Threesome

Rommath needs to relax, something he hasn’t managed on his own in quite some time. A certain Ranger-General makes it his sole mission to help him do so, aided by bloodthistle and relentless charms. Inspired by Lorbitele’s gorgeous art, Bloodthistle. <3

(Halduron is the bane of Rommath's existence... Such a sexy, sexy bane... Like the classic pulling on the proverbial pigtails, Halduron talks Rommath into getting some herbal aid with him, all to help him relax, of course! Like a good friendly colleague would. I bet you anything that things are going to escalate soon enough >:3c)

a first time by av1102

Mature | Halduron/Lor'themar/Rommath | Pre-polyamory

"...but Halduron figured that's where his “intimate” relationship with the Grand Magister ended. He was thrilled to learn that he was wrong."

(Halduron goes to surprise his man, only to get more than he bargained for...! Short but sweet, and one of the fics that made me really enjoy the idea of them as a trio, so I simply must pay my respects <3)

Dal Segno by asimina

Teen | Rommath/Aethas | Pre-relationship, Poker

The monthly poker night at Sunfury Spire has a new addition at the table. Despite being off his game all evening, Rommath goes all in, hoping lady luck is on his side.

(Aethas plays poker for the very first time, against the leadership of Quel'Thalas, what happens next will shock you! But really though, this is such a fun one, full of banter and then some warm heart, to boot <3 These two are always such a delightful combo, I think.)

Anikostosis by Kangoo

Teen | Kael'thas/Illidan | Soulmates, Grief, Hurt/comfort

Anikostosis /aˈnikostosɪs/ From the Greek aníko (ανήκω), belong, and nóstos (νόστος), the act of returning or going back, an arrival, a safe journey home. The act of coming back home and finding it unchanged — or rather finding it has changed in the same way that you have, so that you are still welcome in spite of, or even because of, the difference. In which Kael'thas lives to fight another day, and tries to keep the world from falling apart.

(Last year it finally happened. It dropped. The long-awaited part three of the grand Kael/Illidan soulmate epic, dealing with the period between Burning Crusade up to Legion. It deals with what losing his soulmate does to Kael'thas who survives Outland and now has to lead his people through the many conflicts and events that followed, and the friends who backed him up and stood by his side for it. Great ensemble cast, fantastic worldbuilding, and a whooping 86k words!)

Blood and Filigree by Aliffo

Teen | Rommath/Kael'thas | Major character death, Backstory, Worldbuilding, Magic bonds, Bittersweet

When Archmage Rommath is approached in Dalaran by Prince Kael’thas with a request to aid him in a secret research project, he is drawn into a strange web of mysterious ancient sigils and forbidden magic. Still, Rommath is nothing if not a pragmatist and if it helps him achieve his eventual goal of becoming grand magister, he can’t turn the offer down. Nor can he refuse a request to work with the charming prince, who he quickly finds himself falling for. The spectre of his research haunts him for many years as he returns to Silvermoon to work under Grand Magister Belo’vir, and then still when he must deal with the scourge invasion and its aftermath. A backstory fic for Grand Magister Rommath that imagines how his life in Dalaran may have been, and how he came to work with and become close to Prince Kael’thas, and then continues the story up to the events of Magister’s Terrace.

(54k! I recently read this to make this list accurate! It had been open in a tab for ages but I just never got around to it, hah, you know how it is...! This follows Rommath's entire relationship with Prince Kael'thas with such incredibly engaging worldbuilding filling out the blanks left by the game. The characterizations are fantastic, this truly reads like a young Rommath and all that implies, with his ambition to make something of himself. The story is engaging and a real page-turner with a wonderfully fleshed-out supporting cast. A must read, honestly, even with the inevitable canon end! It feels earned, and bittersweet in equal measures. Genuinely one of the best fics I've read in this fandom, one I couldn't put down until it was done! <3)

Duty and Ambition by asimina

Explicit | Rommath/Kael'thas | Regency romance, Secret relationship, Mutual pining, Breaking up, Hurt/comfort, POV swap

Kael’thas and Rommath’s roles have been dictated since the very beginning: prince and servant to the crown. Kael’thas has been taught he’s to marry for status, his duty to Quel’Thalas as the sole Sunstrider heir. Rommath is unable to put aside the thought that his secret dalliance with Kael'thas might mean more to him than either would care to admit.

(67k! Same situation as above, actually I think I opened the tabs at about the same time and was paralyzed with too much potential goodness, whoops. First part of a series, this is a sweeping romance if I've ever read one, and as with all great romances there is plenty of turmoil and trouble to be had along the way! In this one the regency vibe is so real, it's all high society drama with its titillating scandals and pearl-clutching, written so convincingly authentic <3 It truly is a story about duty and ambition and love, above all – at times heartbreakingly painful, this fic is another one I had a hard time putting down once I started it. And there's already more bits to follow!)

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These are the fics I could think of, and I really hope you give them all a try! The authors are all phenomenal and surely have much more excellence to come, and remember: leave a kudos if you liked it, and a comment if you want to let the author know why! <3

#Rommath #Halduron Brightwing #Aethas Sunreaver #Lor'themar Theron #Kael'thas Sunstrider #Belo'vir Salonar #Vandellor #Blood elf #World of Warcraft #Great fanfic #Let's see if tumblr still only counts the first five tags...!

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