#if the writers fuck this up I'm going to burn something down

[all-was-not-well]

Michaela Stirling

I'm definitely going to regret dropkicking myself into this conversation but....

I fucking love what they've done with John and Francesca this season, I think it's a great change of pace from the hyper-passionate, demonstrative love stories we've seen so far on Bridgerton. I'm also super excited for Francesca and Michaela's season, and for the way Michaela's gender is going to play into that.

Because yes, her gender is going to change some aspects of the story. There'll be less pushback against the two of them living together (Francesca has to temporarily move back into Bridgerton house because even as a widow she can't live alone in the same house as Michael, her cousin-in-law) and likely more pressure on Francesca's pregnancy due to the lack of an heir that's both known to the remaining members of the family and willing to provide for them (I think they actually are going to do a version of Francesca's struggle with infertility, I just think that the way they handle it is going to be very different). Characters are probably going to lean harder on Francesca to remarry, and depending on how the ton perceives Michaela (the general vibe on Bridgerton is that society doesn't take issue with men like Anthony or Colin sleeping around, but women like Daphne and Prudence risk ruin for being alone with a man) her family will likely want her to marry as well. (My guess is that Michaela will be charming as hell and the toast of the season, there'll just be fewer rumors about who she has and hasn't slept with.)

I'm curious to see how they continue to navigate queer sexualities in the Regency era, even in a story that plays as fast and loose with history as Bridgerton. I'm pretty okay with how they handled Benedict, Tilley, and Paul this season, and I'm optimistic as hell for watching Francesca and Michaela grow and change together.

My one real worry is an extremely modern one. As much as I love all the edits to "Good Luck Babe" that I've been seeing on Tik Tok, I really don't want them to frame Francesca as a lesbian. I really love the idea of Francesca's relationship with John being something real and true and valid -- she loved him, she was attracted to him, she wanted kids with him, she mourned him to hell and back when he died-- and over the course of the story, she grows to want something different -- not more or less, but different-- with Michaela. They can still tease each other, they ca still push each other out of their shells, they can still be best friends who fall apart when they lose the person who mattered most to both of them, and fall back together when they risk losing each other. The heart of the story can still be the same-- changing Michael to Michaela only changes the skeleton.

Does that make any sense?

[soulwrencher]

Hi!!!! I don’t know if you take request.. but I can’t stop thinking about vi coming home from the gym, or reader going to meet vi at her gym? But her sweaty abs? Those back muscles? Those arms? 😩 and vi just being so smug about it because she knows the effect she has on reader 😭

yesss i like this! note: i don't really workout at the gym (embarrassing i know...), so if this is super unrealistic just... gawk over her body! be horny!

also you should totally read this by my fav writer ever if you haven't already, you'll be OBSESSED. kisses n hugs @vampiefemme 😘

1, 2, 3, 4,... were you counting your own reps or vi's? your mouth was practically on the floor, eyes ogling at her back from afar. there's quite the distance between you and where she is working out at, but that doesn't stop you from dislocating your neck to watch her do pull-downs.

there is just something about the way she's built, tattoo climbing down her neck as well as the usually headache inducing overhead lights making the sweat on her traps shine, and her big, to drool over, triceps. and fuck were they moving with every pull too, actively flexing underneath her drenched tank top. absolutely soaked, (you or her?) vi takes her tank top off, you almost slam the weights. feeling the blood rush through your body from the embarrassment of just almost pissing people off (and the fact that you've been staring for full 5 minutes), your mind carries you away, to your bed, underneath vi, who's doing pushups over you and then smiles at you, how dreamy.

and then she smiles at you. wait, what? a small but very potent 'fuck' escapes your mouth. she's done with her sets and quickly redirects her focus to cleaning the machine.

vi is grinning like an idiot, it's hard to stay oblivious when she literally felt something (your pretty eyes) burning into her back. and besides, it was super hot watching you too. she overthrew her whole workout routine just because of 8 little words:

'heyyy i heard you go to the gym?☺️'

it took her an hour to reply, Yeahhh I do, erase, We should go together, erase, I think you're really cute, erase, I'm going this Friday you wanna join me cutie? send. vi wasn't stupid, it takes two to play a game. and you were going to lose.

"you looked distracted," vi chuckles, sweat dripping down her forehead.

slam. "oh god, that startled me, haha." you look around, 'i'm sorry' plastering your whole face. you feel the heat rush up into your head and accumulating there. what the hell.

"is it fun watching me?" she continues. she's facing you, arm stretched out and resting on the leather of your seat. you're fucked.

"i was just trying to see when you're done—" you pause to look at her, but vi's eyes are elsewhere, further down, was she checking you out?

"—not sure if i'm doing this right," you say as your eyes wander to her stretched out arm, suddenly you feel warmth spreading from in between your thighs...

she hums in response, scoff-laugh following. vi gathered that you weren't going to lose easily.

"can i?" she asks and you nod, hot palms adjusting your foot placement on the board. you like how her hands feel, they were rough and calloused but still so, so warm.

you press against the board, small grunts and groans escaping your lips. fuck, you sound a little too good, vi totally did not just imagine all possible (well, rather a small selection) of scenarios where you'd make exactly those noises.

she tries to distract herself from her thoughts where you are moaning her name, so she strokes your left hamstring to make sure you're... to make sure what exactly? you immediately look up, but the way vi is looking at you... you can't help but get lost in her eyes, you wanted her to get lost in you. and she couldn't ignore the throbbing that was practically begging to be taken care of from just looking at you and touching your skin.

one thing leads to another and her fingers are filling you up and pumping into you as slick gushes out from the sides of her fingers. iiiiin the bathroom of the women's locker room. gross, absolutely, but you're too busy trying to swallow your moans.

"not sure if i'm doing this right." vi whispers into your ear. you roll your eyes, she's obviously mocking your awful attempt at covering up the fact that you were staring.

"'doing, mhmmmh, just fine," you slur.

fuck, you were driving vi insane. she throws her head back, hard nipples graze against the fabric of your workout top as she thrusts her body against yours, pressing your back against the stall wall. and she's still inside you, vi is still curling her fingers against the walls of your gaping cunt. you dig your nails into vi's back, "more," you whisper.

"fuck, i—" vi slowly slides out her fingers, you successfully flustered her, she's completely worked up, cute. and then, seemingly out of nowhere, she brushes a lose strand behind your ear, it feels like you're dripping onto the gym floor. kinda gross, but whatever, because vi's hand is right there where you want it, cupping your face.

"let me take you to my place," she then says, voice low. she watches a small smile appear on your face. "sure, show me your home workouts," you wink, causing vi to turn the same color as her hair.

got you.

[thebibliosphere]

I both believe "poor people deserve art" and "artists deserve food", but it's hard to reconcile those beliefs. I blame capitalism. And I suppose it mostly matters who you're stealing from?

I don't mean to question you at all, I'm against people pirating your stories. I guess I was just wondering if you had more thoughts regarding the reconciliation the two beliefs I quoted above.

I think the reconciliation is working toward a future where things are better, and authors and artists don't have to beg people not to steal from them because they think every author is Stephen King, who wouldn't notice if you stole the pennies found under his couch when in reality most of us are hunting for spare change down the back of the couch because we are earning below minimum wage.

We need people to embrace the idea that art belongs to the working class, both in terms of consumption but also creation.

If you don't support the working-class creators, you'll only end up with rich fucks with no scope of the world beyond their own narrow view of privilege.

Indie creators are actually working very hard to change the way the industry works, and the publishing industry is shitting itself over it. They don't like the success some of us are having. It's why they keep upping prices while slashing corners on their own production (while never affecting the man at the top) to try and stay competitive within the rat race they've created.

They're not interested in the proliferation of art. They're not interested in making sure their authors can afford to live. They don't want more diversity. They don't want inclusion. They want profit at whatever the cost.

And while indie creators very much need to get paid because we live in a capitalistic society and everything is burning down around us, and a carton of eggs now costs more than what I earn per hour, our creativity is directly at odds with the type of profiteering big publishers want.

The money should go to the writers. Not the CEOs. The money should go to the workers in the print houses. Not the CEOs. No one needs the kind of wealth these people have. It's obscene. We need direct action against these conglomerates. We need unionization. We need a means to fight back so that we can make art and make it accessible.

So, how do we do that? I don't know. I'm just a very tired, disabled creator doing my best to keep my head above water. But I think getting people to realize that art and books are worth saving up for would be a good start.

That putting money in the pockets of creators is just as important as your own enjoyment of their art. Because if there aren't any artists, you've got nothing.

Getting them involved with their local libraries would also be a great start. Educating them on how the industry works is part of that. The number of people telling me they had no idea libraries paid authors is staggering. And that's intentional. It's a by-product of right-wing propaganda to make you think libraries are worthless and just sap taxpayers' money.

They're not.

If they were, the fash wouldn't be trying so hard to take them away.

Basically, we need working-class solidarity and for certain people on the left to rid themselves of the idea that just because something isn't borne of manual labor, it doesn't have worth. We need the artists and the dreamers as much as we need to bricklayers and the craftsmen. Otherwise, what's the fucking point of it all?

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

jealous hotchner because he can’t take his brother flirting with you so he shows you who you belong to 😘😘😘 (as in he wasn’t aware he liked you like that until he saw his brother with you and realised he didn’t want sean doing to you what he wants to do to you)

ps. you are an amazing writer and i love your work 🩷

༉‧₊˚. 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

— summary: things change thanks to the helpful youngest hotchner (or aaron's a little oblivious but then realizes he's jealous and you guys have sex in the bathroom at work).

— warnings: yet ANOTHER pwp, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, mentioned vaginal fingering, rough sex, doggy style, backshots, mirror sex, bathroom sex, dom!aaron hotchner, sub!reader, dom/sub dynamics, kind of mean dom!aaron, he's just being a little mean, but only 'cause he's jealous, the reader is enjoying every second of it though, a lot of dirty talk, teasing, ass smacking (like once), implied oral sex at the end (m rec), they just match each other's freak.

— wc: 1048

⋆ a/n: WOW EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO AND DISAPPEAR INTO A HOLE NOW!! this is just a whole mess if i'm going to be honest, but in like... a good way. i don't know if this aaron is ooc 'cause usually he's sweet in most of my fics, but this is just a whole different ball field!

masterlist | AO3

You really, really had no idea how you ended up here, but somehow you were pulled to the side by your boss and found yourself tugged into the gender-neutral bathrooms.

Your lips were rolled between your teeth and your eyes were squeezed shut tightly in order to try to keep the sounds of pleasure from spilling between your teeth. Your hands curled into the counter of the sink, head hanging low. 

Aaron’s large palms gripped at the fat of your hips, your pencil skirt shoved up and over your waist, your panties pulled halfway down your thighs before they sat on top of your knees that were squeezed together. It was hard to keep yourself still in your heels, but you were determined to be good for him, just like he had asked.

One moment you were sitting at your desk chatting away with Sean, the youngest Hotchner brother when Aaron had come storming over, mentioning something about, “Leaving his Agent,” Alone. The tone was unfamiliarly possessive, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t felt his brooding from atop of the stairs near his office.

You could always feel him near you, it was like your body was pulled towards the earth that was Aaron Hotchner. 

You could see it in Aaron’s face as he all but dragged his brother away from you, jaw set tight and eyes narrowed, arms crossed over his suit covered chest. They bulged out in the material and you had to keep yourself from moaning at the sight of them.

Sure, you knew Sean was flirting with you, but it was rare that men would show any interest in you, so you can’t blame a girl for taking advantage of a situation in front of her, though it wasn’t the brother that she wanted.

Anywho, that’s neither here nor there. All you know is, is that one moment you’re walking down the hallway after visiting Penelope’s cave to be dragged away by Aaron into the bathrooms and pressed against the door.

The way he peered down at you was dark and hungry, and he definitely had a goal in mind as you coward. He held you there with his body, large, broad shoulders pinning you to the metal as you peered up at him through fluttering lashes.

Your body fucking burned for him. You knew you would do anything he would ask you too.

Of course this was disorderly conduct, that it was inappropriate, and quite frankly taboo, with the way that he was your boss and you were his subordinate; and oh, you guys were currently fucking in the company bathroom.

If you were going to be honest – and nasty – that only added fuel to the fire that was your dampening core.

You had begged in a small voice, shaky hands raising to set themselves on his shoulders, fingers curling in the material to… steady yourself? Pull him closer? You didn’t know, but he just watched you.

“Tell me what you want.” The question was sultry and demanding and a shiver ran its way up your body, wracking it in its haste. “You.” You would go to whisper, gaze falling on his lips before following back up to his eyes.

He had bent you over the counter, fingering you open quickly before tugging himself out of his slacks and entering you.

“Mmf… fuck!” You couldn’t help but cry as his tip kissed your g-spot over, and over and over again. The stretch burned so good, and the coil in your stomach was tightly wound, but not quite there yet. You needed that extra stimulation and you didn’t know if Aaron was willing to give it to you.

“Shush.” He puffed harshly, the warm air hitting the shell of your ear before he tugged on it with his teeth.

“Oh God.” You whimpered, leaning back into his bites. “I need it, Aaron please… Don’t be mean.” You whined. “You’ll take what I give you. That’s the least you could do after flirting with my brother right in front of me.”

The mention of his brother caused him to punch back into you harshly, sending you forward slightly. You scrambled to tighten your hold again, another cry lodging itself in your throat.

“Nasty girl.” He growled. “What made you think that was appropriate, huh?” Another emphasizing thrust. “I – I didn’t think…” You mewled. “‘Want you only. I promise.” You said with a pout, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah? Only me?”

“Mhm.”

He studies your face before leaning forward to join your lips together. Despite the awkward angle, he holds you steady, one of hands leaving your skin to run circles over your clit.

“Gah!” Your yelp is muffled by your lips, the man all but eating it. You don’t know which fountain of pleasure to chase, hips rocking forward and backwards constantly. 

“I… I…” Your words failed you, and your eyes squeezed shut again. “‘M gonna cum, Aaron baby, can I? Can I cum?” You beg.

He forced you to meet his gaze in the mirror, strands of his black hair sticking to his sweat slicked forehead. “Do you deserve it?” He asks darkly.

You think you could cry.

“Aaron…”

“Answer me. Do you think you deserve to cum?”

“You know I do.” You breathe petulantly, but he isn’t having it, the hand your hip slapping your ass instead. “Fuck.” You sigh. “You’re lucky we're running out of time, or I would be making you beg more, understood?”

“Yes, yes! Understood!”

“Good.”

The tight circles return and you keel over, teeth digging into your bottom.

“I wish I could hear you, my pretty girl.” He coos and you cry out as you cum. Your body trembles but he works you through it.

You’re breathing heavily by the end of it, your heavy eyes meeting his in the mirror.

“You think we're done?” He asks with dark amusement. “I haven’t cum yet.”

He maneuvers your body and turns you around, and by the pressure on your shoulders, he’s trying to push you down, and you understand what he wants. You follow his wordless instructions wordlessly, staring face to face with his dripping wet cock that’s stained with your creamy cum.

“You know what to do.” Aaron encourages, and you do.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[sweetpascal]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 — 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

gif by: @richardgrimes

pairing: perv!stepdad!joel x fem!reader

summary: when you do the unthinkable, joel takes it upon himself to let out all of his anger and frustration onto you. the punishments that follow are ones that officially tear you apart and turn you into an unrecognizable girl.

warnings: MINORS DNI. DUB-CON. BIG AGE GAP [18/52], joel is VERY VERY VERY mean in this chapter, face slapping, hair pulling, hella manipulation, finger sucking, spanking as punishment [with his hand and belt], TW: isolation as punishment, TW: emotional abuse, joel spits on your face, oral [m receiving], TW: forced asphyxiation, joel has a very big dick ok, masochism, sadism, dacryphilia, kinda angsty ??

wc: 7.3k

notes: i felt kinda blah about this series cause i feel like i'm not making joel mean enough compared to how some writers write dark!joel (´•︵•`) so i got really sad and put all my emotions into this chapter as a coping mechanism and made joel REALLY fucking mean and just... a horrible and nasty man. trauma ?? i think so. ENJOY. ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

edit: i posted this later than expected UGH. expect two updates in one day.

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

By the time you awoke, the space beside you in bed was vacant. You have no recollection of drifting off in Joel's embrace. As you rise, the fluffy blanket cascades down, gathering around your hips. Joel must have draped it over you once you had succumbed to sleep. The absence of his clothes on the floor and the chill of his side of the bed leave you questioning whether he stayed the night at all, stirring a sense of unease within you. He had done something new, something that made you feel good, and he wasn't here when you woke up. Why? Why wasn't he here? Why do you feel so cold all of a sudden? Was this something normal that men do? Embarrassed by the series of events from last night, you pull on your discarded panties and shorts.

The sunrise had not yet begun. Looking out the window, the sky displayed an almost purplish tint with the sun barely cresting the horizon. It was a cloudless sky, yet the faint chirping of morning birds could be heard from their respective trees. Unsure of the time, as Joel had confiscated your phone and you lacked an alarm clock, the day's start remained ambiguous.

As you tiptoe out of your room, you notice the house is completely quiet. Joel usually wakes up before dawn, but today, a faint snore drifts from his and your mom's bedroom. Moving down the hall, you gently push the slightly open door further. In the dim blue light filtering in from outside, you can just make out Joel's form. He's sprawled on his stomach in the center of the bed, clutching his pillow while your mom's lies abandoned on the floor. Shirtless, the sheets are drawn just below the dimples of his back. The bedside clock shows 5:22 AM.

"Daddy?" you whisper faintly into the darkness, pausing for an answer. Only his soft snores, muffled by the pillow, meet your ears. Drawing nearer, you notice Joel is lying on his good ear, the other affected by partial hearing loss. The urge to rouse him is strong, yet you hesitate, knowing these moments of peaceful rest are few for him.

The rumbling of your stomach makes you whimper. Joel usually prepares meals for you when asked. Your mother, however, rarely agrees, often reminding you that you're old enough to cook for yourself. But Joel always protests, saying, "I don't want your pretty little hands to get all cut up and burned." Perhaps he wouldn't mind if you made breakfast just this once. It would be a sweet gesture to surprise him with breakfast in bed. You wonder if your mom ever did something like that for him.

"I'm going to make breakfast for us, okay, Daddy?" you whisper, a bit louder this time, your hand hovering just above his broad back. You can feel the warmth radiating onto your palm. When he doesn't respond, only emitting another snore, you quietly tiptoe out of the room and gently close the door, cringing when it makes a loud noise at the last moment.

Descending the stairs, a sense of unease weighs heavily in your stomach. Alone, with dark blue hues filling patches of the vacant house and shadows stretching across the walls, you almost feel an invisible presence. You find yourself wishing Joel were awake to fend off the lurking shadows. Rushing to the kitchen, you flip on the light, blinking against the sudden brightness until your eyes adjust.

Opening the fridge revealed a lackluster array of dinner leftovers, several half-empty condiment bottles, an empty milk carton, and a bag of grapes beginning to rot. It was disappointing to find nothing inspiring to cook with. A glance at the stovetop clock showed it was 5:30. The local market would open at 6, and it was only a half-hour walk away. However, the prospect of walking that distance didn't appeal to you, dramatic as it might seem. Your eyes then fell upon Joel's truck keys and wallet in the bowl on the kitchen countertop. Surely, he wouldn't mind if you borrowed them for a quick shopping trip.

Right?

By the time you returned home, it was nearly 8 o'clock. The neighborhood had fully come to life. The groceries in the truck's backseat jostled with every gentle turn. A sinking feeling emerged at the thought of Joel's anger over you borrowing his truck without asking and taking some of his twenty-dollar bills. Yet, it stemmed from a desire to do something kind for him in gratitude for his good care during your mother's absence. An excitement bubbled within you, eager to burst.

You hadn't planned to be out this long, but losing track of time and procrastinating on your tasks is a frequent issue. Joel often chides you for this, playfully urging you to get your head out of the clouds and to come back down to earth. Your only hope is that Joel remains asleep, unaware of your absence. However, the missing money from his wallet, the extra miles on his truck, and the depleted gas are sure to give you away.

As you park the truck in the driveway, you notice the porch screen is wide open, though you remember closing it before sneaking out. Your heart sinks at the sight of Joel's daunting figure in the doorway, his gaze piercing through the windshield. It's a wonder the glass doesn't crack under the weight of his stare. Your pulse quickens, a flurry of nervous butterflies takes flight in your stomach, and your palms dampen with sweat as you clutch the steering wheel tightly.

Joel points at you and then to the ground at his feet, silently mouthing, "Now." He then vanishes back into the house, clearly pissed off. Fear grips you, making it daunting to leave the truck's safety. After six agonizing minutes, you gather enough bravery to step out, your breath hitching in your throat and almost making it difficult to breathe.

After hoisting the grocery bags into your arms and nudging the back passenger door closed with your foot, likely leaving a mark on the polished metal, you make your way to the porch with unsteady steps. The door stands slightly open, and you gently push it wider. As you spin around to close it, a hand reaches over your shoulder and slams it with such force that the house seems to shake. Startled, you yelp loudly as Joel grabs your arm firmly and pulls you into the kitchen, his long strides causing you to stumble over your feet.

"Sit your fuckin' ass down," he practically barks, pulling out a kitchen chair and slams it down. He pushes you toward the chair so forcefully that the grocery bags tumble down around you. As you land on the wooden chair, the impact from Joel's shove nearly expels all the air from your lungs.

He stands over you from your seated position, towering and nearly trembling with fury. Joel's hands are clenched into tight fists, his knuckles whitening under the strain. He scratches his jaw and paces, a low growl emanating from deep within his chest as the intensity in his eyes burns fiercer. You close your eyes, sitting motionless, bracing yourself.

"Are you out of your GODDAMN MIND?!" He bends down to scream in your face, his face contorted in a way that makes him look scary and so different from the usual angry Joel you normally see. This Joel was drowning in rage. His eyes were nearly black and the lines on his face deepened as he snarled in your face. "You fucking ANSWER ME!" One hand grabs the back of your hair and yanks your head back so fast that your nerve spasms, a shrieking cry escaping your lips. His other hand grabs your face and squeezes your jaw so tightly that pain blossoms throughout your gums.

"Stop, stop, stop, please, stop!" You're babbling in his face, thick tears sliding down your cheeks from the intense pain in your scalp, neck, and jaw. You could barely catch a breath from how hard you're crying. "Da-Daddy, p-please!" You're grabbing on both of his forearms, nails digging deep through his long shirt, no doubt leaving indentations.

Joel only grunts lowly, his breath heavy and fast. His hands squeeze tighter, and he roughly shakes your head, loving the way your face scrunches up at the pain he's causing. Then, he forcibly pushes your head away, releasing his hands from your knotted hair and your already bruising jaw. Tears streaming down your face, you draw your knees up to your chest for comfort and hesitantly reach for the back of your head, while your other hand softly caresses your jaw. Your eyes are wide, reflecting a state of shock and fear. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his frown growing more pronounced as you quiver uncontrollably.

He pulls his wallet from his back pocket and flings it towards you. It strikes your knees and tumbles to the floor, unfolding just enough to reveal its barren interior.

"You take my fuckin' truck," Joel says in a low voice, trembling with anger. He steps back, his boots thudding on the floorboards. "You take my fuckin' money." At this point, you're nearly hyperventilating, silently cursing yourself for such a foolish act and expecting him to accept it. He goes on, his tone grave, "And you sneak out without telling me, huh? What, you want more freedom than what I'm giving you here?"

The anger that Joel feels is indescribable. It's coursing through his veins like heroin, poisoning his blood and gradually taking over his body. He doesn't know what to do, or even think. All that he can do is react. How stupid of you to think this was okay. How mind-numbingly idiotic it was of him to expect you to follow his rules and obey him like a good girl. As he looks down at you like smeared shit at the bottom of his shoe, there seems to be only one option left.

Before you can react, Joel has seized your arm and pulled you up from the chair, nearly dislocating your shoulder. His footsteps are long, resounding, and forceful. Tears continue to flow as he hauls you up the stairs. You stumble on each step, crying and sobbing, while you try to keep pace with him. Your knees are banging against every edge as Joel practically drags you up the steps.

"Da-Dad-dy!" Choking on your tears, you can barely see anything. Your vision is blurry, and your hearing is muffled. Every nerve in your body is on fire. "Pl-Please, Jo-el!"

"Get up, girl! C'mon. Get your fuckin' ass up!" He grunts through labored breaths, jaw clenching tightly as he drags your body by the arm up the last step. "I've had 'nough of you."

Suddenly, he kicks your bedroom door open, your heartbreaking cries falling on deaf ears. Your body is shoved into your room with enough force to make you collapse onto the ground. You're gasping for air, your fingers slick with sweat as they frantically claw at the rug, desperate to find something to hold onto.

Joel stands motionless in the doorway, his gaze fixed on you without a trace of emotion. Thoughts flood his mind, overwhelming him like a tsunami. Make her hurt. Make her cry. Make her beg for mercy. He retrieves a key from his front pocket and observes as you pathetically curl into a ball on the floor, your shoulders shaking violently while you cry into the carpet. His hand rests on the doorknob. Before leaving, he speaks in an unexpectedly gentle tone, "Until I believe you've learned your lesson, you're going to stay here, and you're going to think about what you did."

Then, he departs and forcefully closes your door. Amidst your heavy sobs, the sound of the bedroom door lock engaging is audible. Glancing over your shoulder weakly, you notice the doorknob has been altered from before. Gone is the twist lock, replaced now by a keyed lock mechanism.

The epiphany strikes with overwhelming force. Enclosed by a door that's locked and windows sealed shut, you find yourself imprisoned with no means of escape.

Unaware of how much time has passed, you stay on the ground, curled up, emotionless. The tears have stopped, leaving behind an empty stare. The night has already set in, shrouding your room in darkness from top to bottom. Joel's footsteps are audible everywhere, hardly silent. Whenever he approaches your door, there's a halt, a moment of stillness, and then the sound of his steps resumes. Undoubtedly, he was listening with his ear against the door. Each approach brought a heaviness to your heart and a sinking sensation in your stomach.

The aroma of garlic sizzling in oil drifted from the kitchen, prompting your mouth to water and your stomach to knot with hunger. You hadn't eaten since the night before. The clatter of pots and pans, either being used or stored away, brought tears to your eyes. "Stupid, stupid girl," you chide yourself. It was foolish to attempt a kind gesture for Joel, only to have it go horribly wrong. It was a rash and impetuous move. Now, he'll never forgive you for this. This realization has you weeping once more into the spit-soaked, tear-stained rug.

Engrossed in your thoughts, you fail to notice the door has come unlocked and now stands ajar, the hallway light spilling in and illuminating your huddled form. Joel pauses in the doorway, a plate of food in hand, and tuts softly at the pathetic sight before him.

"Sit up," he commands, making his way deeper into the dimly lit room. The sound of his rough voice had your entire body tensing and your quiet cries immediately halting. When you remain still, Joel becomes irritated and prods your hip forward with his muddy boot, leaving a mark on the pristine white dress you wore especially to surprise him. "I said, get your fuckin' ass up, little girl. Don't make me tell you again."

With trembling limbs, you gradually unfold yourself, grimacing as your muscles burn. Your scalp, jaw, neck, knees, and arms feel as though they are on fire. After hours of immobility and neglecting your aching body, the pain strikes you with overwhelming force.

Joel squats before you, emitting a soft grunt as his knees pop and his lower back tightens. In silence, he extends the plate of food between you both: parmesan garlic chicken, green beans, and red roasted baby potatoes. The aroma and appearance make your eyes widen, your mouth water, and your stomach rumble.

The moment your fingertips graze the plate's underside, Joel pulls it away and sets it on the ground. Your faint smile vanishes, replaced by a frown as you meet his stern gaze. He remains silent, his stare unwavering. Looking down at the plate, it dawns on you that there's not a fork, knife, or even a spoon in sight.

"Eat," he commands, his voice a quiet murmur. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his eyes unblinking, his facial expression shifting subtly. The softness and tenderness that were once reserved for you have vanished. He never used to look at your mom the way he looked at you. But now, his gaze is identical. It leaves you feeling sorrowful and heartbroken.

Confused and very much embarrassed at not knowing what to do, you hesitantly reach out to grab the chicken with your bare hand. Joel's hand roughly clamping around your wrist and shoving it away prevents you from doing so. There was a surge of panic that shot through you like a shotgun blast.

"No," he snaps, his eyes narrowing and his scowl deepening. It's clear he's losing patience. Joel has no time for games. "Bend down… and eat," he commands.

There's a tense, heavy moment of silence as you thoroughly think about what he's telling you to do. Warmth spreads throughout your neck and rises to your cheeks before settling on the tips of your ears. Your heart plummets to your stomach. So, like an obedient little dog, you lower your head down to the plate on the ground and begin eating.

Joel smiles at your obedience, one hand gently petting your head and tenderly massaging the tendrils of hair connected to your scalp that he viscously yanked. He softly quiets you when you flinch and unintentionally whimper. He maintains the gentle, affectionate strokes of his hand through your hair, even gathering it into a ponytail to help you eat more comfortably.

"That's a good girl," he softly praises, settling onto his knees in front of you and using his other hand to gently stroke your jaw. "See how easy it is to obey Daddy? You just needed some of Daddy's tough lovin', huh?"

Is this what it was? Some tough love? You've never encountered that before, much less experienced it. Since you were never a problem child, discipline was seldom necessary. Maybe this is exactly what you needed to be a good girl for Joel. Maybe this tough love is what will help you do better and learn from your stupid mistakes.

As you continue eating, Joel finds himself slowly loving the sight of you eating like a fucking mutt in front of him. Knowing that he can push you so far as to do something like this excites him. His hand tightens in the makeshift ponytail he has your hair in, and his eyes darken. Letting out a whimper that was muffled from your food, you make sure to not complain about it to Joel. He was already upset with you from earlier and you really don't want to push it further.

"That's enough," he declares, his hand in your hair stopping your movements while his other hand takes your plate away, leaving half of the food untouched and uneaten. His hand pops you on the cheek when he hears you protesting, a pained yelp escaping your slobbered lips. He forces your head up to be eye level with his. "Listen to me, little girl. From this moment forward, Daddy will decide what you eat, when you eat it, and how much you can eat. Have I made myself clear?" His voice's tone is so authoritative that it holds no room for argument, not that you could muster one even if you wished to.

Nevertheless, you find yourself nodding within his grasp. Choosing not to protest was wise. Should this behavior be part of your punishment or his version of tough love, you certainly wouldn't want to witness him at full strength. Merely the thought was enough to make you shudder with fear once more. Joel was an incredibly strong man, often unaware of his own strength. He could break your jaw with one squeeze--he almost fucking did it this morning.

Joel mocks your nod. "Good," he hums, offering you a pleased smile as he lovingly strokes the apple of your cheeks. "Now, come to the bathroom so Daddy can brush your teeth."

Leaving your half-finished plate behind, you follow Joel into the hallway. You trail behind him aimlessly, your steps shaky and limping. He notices but chooses not to comment. It's for the best, a silent reminder that such consequences will recur if you act carelessly again.

Joel opens the door to the main bathroom and guides you inside with care. He lifts you with ease under your arms and sets you down on the countertop. A small squeak escapes from your chest, a sound that Joel finds adorable. He flashes a subtle grin and begins to wet your toothbrush, dabbing on the toothpaste. He shuffles between your thighs and thumbs your mouth open to start brushing your teeth. His actions brought you comfort, making you feel cherished and cared for. Even though you could have done it yourself, witnessing Joel display his nurturing side was touching. You longed to see more of this aspect of him, silently promising to be well-behaved with every passing minute.

"Alright, babydoll," he says as pats your thighs lovingly and rinses off your toothbrush after instructing you to lean over the sink and spit out the minty froth. "Now, get your butt back to your room and lean over the bed, panties off."

Joel notices the confusion spark in your eyes before it manifests in the furrowing of your brows. Your lips part to question him, but the words become stuck in your throat as his eyes darken and he gives a subtle shake of his head, tutting softly to himself.

"And here I thought you were goin' to start listening to me," he lets out a dark chuckle before invading your space with his strong chest pressing against yours. The force of the action causes your back to crash against the mirror, your head striking the glass while the sink spout presses into your lower back, causing discomfort and pain.

He bares his teeth just barely as he gets in your face, nostrils flaring and eyebrows furrowing, the storm brewing wildly in his eyes. Joel laughs gruffly as your eyes widen and you put your hands up in front of your body against his chest to protect yourself from his unpredictability. Oh, how cute. You were shaking under his hold like a frightened little bunny. Joel presses you harder against the mirror, no doubt forcing the sink spout deeper into your back. He grumbles pleasantly under his breath. He was causing this terrible fear clear as day on your face. The blooming bruises on your body are caused by his hands. The finger shaped bruises looked like a work of art on your delicate skin.

"Oh, babydoll," his breath fans across your face. He gives you a mocking pout, hushing you softly when the tears spill. "You're makin' it real hard not to paint that ass black and blue, you know that?"

Your bottom lip trembles and your body quivers, eyes shutting tightly as you mentally prepare yourself for Joel's next action. Tears spill and disappear underneath your aching jaw. He wipes them away at first, but when they keep sliding down, he wipes a tear-stained thumb across your lips before pushing the appendage deeper into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue.

"D'you taste that?" He asks you so quietly that you almost missed it. He's looking at his thumb between your lips and bites down on his own. Joel gazes into your wide eyes, which stare back at him as if he were the boogeyman. In a way, he is. "That's the taste of fear, sweetheart. Don't it taste fuckin' delicious?" The laugh he lets out is depraved, deranged, and delirious. With his thumb still in your mouth, he uses the other fingers to wrap under your chin before using that grip to force your head to move up and down roughly. "That's what I thought. Now, I ain't going to ask you again, babydoll. Take your ass back to your room and take off your fuckin' panties. When I get back, you better be leaning over the edge or so fuckin' help me God."

The mere threat was sufficient to send you scuttling down the hallway, pushing past Joel in a rush to get to your room. He watches you do so with a sadistic smile on his face. To see you react in such a way has him so fucking hard in his jeans. He cups a hand over the thickness and squeezes. There was a brief warmth pooling in his groin, and he let out a husky moan before his hand falls away. In due time, he silently tells himself.

Shaking, stuttering breaths were muffled in the bedding. You did exactly as you were told. The tips of your toes just barely skimming the rug, you were leant over the edge of the bed with your panties pooled at your ankles. One of your hands had blindly reached across the bed to grab onto your stuffed animal to curl an arm around it and press it against your side. The only comforting thing you can have at this moment that can hopefully ease the unsettling anxiety that won't go away.

Uncertain of how much time has passed, it might have been five minutes, ten, or perhaps even an hour. You caught a fleeting sound of Joel entering the room to retrieve your plate, then he left, securing the door with a lock behind him.

Long stretches of silence enveloped you, allowing the sound of your own heartbeat to echo mercilessly in your ears. It was a fleeting moment of tranquility before Joel determined his next move. In this stillness, sleep nearly overtook you, the exhaustion from hours of weeping creeping up silently. Then, the door unlocks, knob slowly turning. The ominous creaking of your door opening has you tensing as you hold your breath.

The steady stomp of Joel's footsteps enters your room before the door is shut behind him. The sight of you in a position that he demanded from you was driving him fucking wild. Panties at your ankles and your cute ass on display, the hem of your dress stopping just at the middle of your cheeks. He can see your pussy nearly calling out for him to play with her. But he can't, not at this moment. He needs you to understand that your actions, done behind his back, were unacceptable. They were reckless and dangerous—just the thought of it is enough to make Joel feel like punching a wall over and over.

"Now, what am I goin' to do with you, babydoll?" The question is rhetorical. He knows what he's going to do to you, but you don't. Leaving you in the dark of where his mind runs wild, keeping you pure from his deranged, perverted thoughts was for your own good. He intends to maintain a safe distance to prevent any critical harm, beyond what has already been inflicted.

The sound of Joel's voice has your hips shifting, your pussy lips just barely parted to give him a show of your exposed clit poking out from the hood that protects the exposed nerve. As he gets closer, he can see your stuffed animal in a headlock under your arm. How cute and pathetic.

"I gotta say, honey," he starts talking, his voice humorless and no longer holding that warm tone he previously had when he walked in. "It was adorable you thought I was done with you tonight. I mean, you really thought Daddy locking you up here was all that he was goin' to do?"

Unsure if the question was rhetorical or not, you still answered in a breathy voice, "Y-Yes, Daddy."

A smile makes its way onto Joel's face. "Yes, Daddy," he mocks your high pitched, breathy voice. The act of him doing so caused an embarrassed flush to warm your cheeks and ears. To be mocked made you feel so small. But that's what you are to Joel; this tiny, little thing that is so easy to crush in his big hand.

His groin rests against your ass cheeks, both of his hands lifting your dress higher until it pools around your upper back, further exposing your naked body to his eager eyes. The rough denim of his jeans and the cold metal of his zipper pressing into your backside made you hiss under your breath. Joel's hands hold onto your hips, forcing your body further onto the bed until your toes are no longer skimming above the rug, your feet now only dangling a few inches up.

"That's more like it," he grunts quietly, biting down on the plump flesh of his body limp when he sees goosebumps erupt on your soft skin. So, so fucking soft and untainted. As one hand pins you down at your lower back, his other hand gently rubs across your left ass cheek. Barely glancing at you to make sure you're prepared for what's to come, Joel mutters, "Brace yourself, sweetheart."

Then, he thwacks his palm across your skin. The force and strength of the smack made you cry out in surprise and pain. He smacks your other cheek with the same force. He does it again and again, back and forth, back and forth. Your legs kick behind you as fiery warmth blossoms along your backside. Your arm squeezes tighter around your stuffed bunny as you blindly reach a hand behind you to cover your bottom. Joel was quick to grab your wrist to pin it at your lower back.

He doesn't fucking stop spanking you. Not even when his own handprint is starting to show on your skin. He grunts with every thwack of his hand across your sensitive flesh. The cries that are forced out of you were music to his ears. Your backside feels like it's on fire underneath his wide palm; he doesn't know when to stop or ease up. The frustration and irritation from earlier were slowly making their way into Joel's mind.

"Bad." Smack. "Bad." Smack. "Fuckin'." Smack. "Girl."

Joel grunts like an animal as the smacks happen in quick succession. You're wailing into the covers, feet kicking weakly as you try so desperately to wiggle away from him. He won't stop. The pain is indescribable. It burns so badly, throbbing non-stop and feeling like a million needles are being stabbed into your skin. Your throat hurts from your pain-filled wails that are muffled into your bedding.

He's panting heavily and sweating. Wiping a forearm across his forehead, Joel removes his hands from your body, tilting one hand to the side to observe your marked ass. His handprints are on your skin, clear as day. He can feel the blazing heat radiating from your backside. But again, he's not done with you yet. And he tells you just that.

"Quit your fuckin' whinin'," he orders, both hands lowering to his thick leather belt to undo it from the hoops of his jeans. "We're not done until I say we're done." He folds the leather and snaps it together, the resounding sound causing you to cry harder in the sheets.

You learned your lesson. You know that you've been a bad girl. You know this. But the words fail to emerge, your voice and mouth unable to coordinate effectively enough to communicate with Joel. A tumult of emotions rages through your violently trembling body: fear, confusion, intense pain, and fatigue.

Folded, thick leather smacking against tender, angry skin is what forces a scream to erupt from your throat. With your bunny discarded, both hands desperately grab at your bedsheets to pull you away from Joel and his offending belt. You can faintly hear him sucking his teeth before one of his hands roughly yanks you back down by the back collar of your dress.

"Cry as much as you want to, babydoll!" he shouts through your pained wails. Then, the belt strikes across your ass repeatedly. Joel was barely giving you time to breathe through your tears and dribbling snot and drool that slides down your chin. "Kick all you want! Daddy ain't stopping!"

He lowers the position of the belt so that he can strike the back of your thighs as well. You're sure that after tonight, you won't be able to sit or speak for a very long time, for your vocal cords are nearly shattered from how hard and loud you were screaming, and Joel's hands and belt are bruising your backside. You're wishing that this torture will end. You're wishing that Joel will stop and hold you while you cry in his arms like a blubbering baby. Stop. Stop. Stop.

"Stop!" You screamed and screamed, both hands desperately reaching back to cover your backside. Everything burns. Everything feels like it's on fire. The pain only intensified when Joel tossed his belt aside and resorted to the palm of his hand again. "Please, please, stop, p-please!" Your speech now slurred and unrecognizable from thick tears, your hands claw at Joel's wrist, his hand wrapped around both of your own wrists to pin at your lower back again.

Only then does Joel snap out of it.

He's breathing so heavy that an innocent bystander would think that he was having a panic attack. Joel looks down at his creation and finally pulls his hand off of your wrists. Your arms go limp at your sides; you don't even bother trying to cover yourself. He looks at your backside, his thumb gently wiping away some blood that dotted around broken skin that was caused by his belt. He hums thoughtfully, bringing his thumb to his lips and licking your blood from the tip. In a day or two, your ass was going to be badly bruised and marked, all thanks to him.

"Such a sweet girl," he whispers, leaning down to press his nose behind your ear and inhaling deeply. Your body violently shakes underneath his chest. His groin is crushed against your horribly bruised ass, the pressure of it making you cry weakly, all the energy suddenly drained from you once he stopped abusing your ass.

Glancing down at his hard cock, now thick and pressing uncomfortably into his thigh, Joel decided now would be a good time for you to make him feel good. Though he knows you're not up for it, he doesn't fucking care. A darkness lurks within his mind, akin to an alter ego that commandeers his body, a monster in its purest form. This other facet of him is sadistic, vicious, and relentless. With you, it's so easy to fall into this second body. It's addicting. He can't stop, even if he knows this is wrong.

With a hoarse grunt, Joel grabs the back of your arms and yanks you off the bed to drop you down onto your knees. With a hand under your chin to keep your face pointed up to him, his other hand unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down, along with his underwear. He pushes both offending fabrics mid-thigh, sighing with satiated relief when his cock slaps up, nearly poking you in the eye.

You could hardly pay attention. Your eyes were unfocused and hazy, swollen lips parted to inhale and exhale shakily. You were so deep in another world that Joel had to roughly shake your head to bring you back down the earth. Unsure of why you feel so dizzy, you tried focusing on the pain in your backside that was still throbbing relentlessly, the burning fire now sizzling into a numb sensation.

"Tongue out," Joel demands roughly as he holds your hair into a makeshift ponytail with one hand as the other holds the base of his cock to tap his leaking tip against your lips.

Hearing his order, you look up at him with tear-filled eyes and do as you're told. You don't even know what exactly you're doing, but all you can hear in your mind is be a good girl and listen to him. Your eyes almost cross as you get a better look of his cock, and they widen comically. God, Joel was really long and thick. You wondered if all men were this size. It was intimidating to look at. You don't know if even less than half could fit in your mouth, let alone inside of you. Joel observes the revelation in your eyes and drops his left into a wink.

"Careful with your teeth, baby," his voice was gruff and strained, his mushroomed tip throbbing against your lips as his heavy balls tighten from the warmth pooling intensely in his groin. "Yeah, just like that."

His praise was something that you desperately needed tonight. Forgetting about the unrelenting abuse you endured on your backside, you can make it up to him by showing you that yes, you really are a good girl, and you will listen to him and do what you're told.

When you take too long to give Joel what he wants, he decides to take charge in one way that he knows how. Both hands grab either side of your head, forcing it to stay still as he shoves half of his cock into your mouth. Your eyes widened and you sputtered sloppily around his dick, your hands frantically fisting his jeans at his thighs. He grunts and groans, sweat pooling behind his neck and sliding down the line of his back.

"Goddamn," he hissed under his breath, moving his hips forward and back to start fucking your mouth with a brutal pace that has his balls slapping against your wet chin. "Born natural, ain't ya?"

Coughing and choking around his cock, you gagged and dry heaved as his thickness fills your mouth repeatedly. Spit dribbles down your chin and slides down your chest as you bite back the bile pooling in the back of your throat. Joel's breathing stutters for a split second at the sight below him. Your lips were obscenely stretched around his girth, eyes wide and glassy with thick tears just waiting to spill over. The sloppy, wet noises coming from your mouth nearly made him bust right in your mouth.

"Let me try somethin'," Joel mumbles to himself before roughly grabbing the back of your head and forcing your head all the way down until your nose and lips were crushed against his dark public hair. The contractions of your throat squeezing around his cock has him moaning gruffly at the ceiling, his head thrown back, Adam's apple bobbing in time with each moan that comes out.

Taking advantage of Joel's lax state, your nails dig into the thick meat of his thighs to push yourself off of him. His cock slips from your lips, strings of spit connecting from the enlarged tip to your puffy lips. You're coughing and dry heaving, your throat burning terribly. Joel looks down and grins wolfishly.

His hand languidly strokes his soaking cock. The sight of you struggling from his size was an image he wanted to engrave in his mind so he can watch it over and over again. He liked seeing you struggle. Hell, he fucking craves to see it again. Without giving you any time to prepare, he grabs the back of your head to force you down onto his cock once more.

The sopping wet choking sounds that are emitting from your throat are driving him insane. He wonders what would happen if he just...

Both hands roughly grab your head to yank you down until his cock goes down your throat again. This time, he keeps you there for a few, long, grueling seconds. You're sputtering wildly, eyes wide with terror as tears spill over your waterline. Your fists are weakly punching at his thighs, and you try to pull your head back, but Joel only crushes your head harder into his pelvis until your nose is pressed so deep into his pubic hair.

Joel grunts like a wild beast. "Just like that. Fuckin' choke on it." He sees your lashes flutter weakly, your eyes half-lidded and rolling into the back of your head. The lack of oxygen to your brain has your heart slowing dramatically. This is your death. Yeah, this is definitely how you're going to die: choking on Joel Miller's dick, also your mom's husband.

Suddenly, your head is pulled off and you're gasping for air like it's the last thing on earth. Your head is spinning and you're doubling over until your forehead is almost touching Joel's boots. Your throat burns and you can barely feel your tongue. This wasn't supposed to be happening. This is all your fault. You deserve this punishment. Bad girl. Bad, bad, bad girl. Slowly rocking yourself back and forth, you sniffle softly and take a weak glance up at him. A shadow almost casts over your face from where you kneeled, his long cock perfectly aligned below the ceiling light.

Joel bends down to lift you higher on your knees. His big hands gently hold your cheeks, and your eyes shut as this is the first tender touch you've felt in hours. You savor this moment, sniffling again and licking your bottom lip. Joel smiles sweetly, lowering his head to kiss your forehead, nose, and then your lips. A sweet little whimper reverberates against his lips. When he pulls away, he quietly instructs you to open your eyes, babydoll.

When you do, you're met with sweet, nice, tender Joel again. Have you really made it to the end of your punishment? Are you his good girl again? Is this really it? The moment doesn't last long. The smile on Joel's face vanishes gradually slowly. There's a sick feeling that returns back inside your stomach. This is going to be never-ending. This is your well-deserved punishment. Pain, pain, pain.

When Joel purses his lips, you flinch when a wad of spit lands on across the bridge of your nose and slides down your cheeks prettily. Your eyes open and your mouth drops. This was the most demeaning thing for him to do. Spitting on your face is a clear indication that you're nothing more than a personal toy for Joel to use. This whole entire night was of him showing you what you mean to him. The thought added a crack to your heart. All you ever wanted was to be good.

Joel's fingers filthily rub his spit all over your face, a crude smile on his face as he does so. His middle and index fingers are shoved into your mouth, the pads of his fingertips covered in his slick and are now laying against your wiggly tongue. "There we go," he breathes out, gently prodding his fingers further down your throat until they brush against your uvula, causing you to gag and sputter.

You barely have enough time to react before he's yanking his fingers from your mouth and landing a smack to your cheek. It almost sends you flying to the side if it weren't for his hand holding onto the other side of your face. Joel hushes you quietly when your eyes shut tightly, fire spreading across your face.

"This is for your own good, babydoll," he whispers against your forehead, pulling away to pop your cheek again, and then landing another smack to your other cheek. He shushes your pained cries again, giving you a messy, tongue-filled kiss. You can't stop crying against his mouth, snot, spit, and tears all over your face. The anguish won't diminish. It gets stronger and stronger the more Joel breaks you apart little by little.

His hands curl into your hair, tightening into fists and yanking your head back a few inches from his face. His eyes darken as he sees the fear in your beautifully broken eyes. He spits on your face once more, trailing his eyes over the artistic splatter across your nose and cheeks. His cock, still rock hard and soaking wet, hangs out of his jeans.

Joel is a patient man. In due time, you and he will finally become one. Whether you liked it or not, you were his--his to use, his to play with, his to destroy. You don't have a voice anymore. Joel Miller broke you apart with his bare hands and left you scrabbling to pick up the pieces.

taglist:

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @heyhihello-4771 @blueberrypancakesworld @codenamekitten @natalieispunk @koshkaj-blog @giowritess @beardropascal @pascaltesfaye @callmeafra @nexy00 @josephquinnswhore @baronessvonglitter @peelieblue @paanchusblog @b3bybunny @sugadolly @ktluvsmen @elliesr1fle @taeslarityy @yourgirljasmin444 @laloestoyvivo @aquanatalie @vickie5446 @cowboybootjoel @olicity-boo @ashleyfilm @withakindheartx @puduvallee @psychoenergy @chuutzuyu

[readerstories]

When You Touch Me - Wolverine x male reader x Deadpool 1/?

God I'm a sucker for a soulmate au. (AO3) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8)

Warnings/tags: male reader, canon-typical violence, enemies to friends to lovers, eventual smut, slow burn

Wordcount: 2347

Summary: You’ve heard many stories about how people met their soulmates. Everyone crazier than the last, ranging from typical meet cutes, meeting with one of them at death's door, in war, meeting at your soulmate's wedding to another, and everything in between and outside of that. You had just never expected to add yours to the crazy list, meeting yours in a fight, only realizing after trying to kill each other for at least half an hour. And you certainly don’t expect to have another.

Other info: About this au - Soulmates find each other through touch, which establishes a mental link that lets feelings through, and if solid and built up enough over time, simple thoughts/words can also come through. Some bonds are purely platonic, about ⅓ in total. Multiple soulmates are not unheard of, but rare, more common with platonic soulmates. 

Quickly about the reader - mercenary/gunman/thug for hire. Great shot with pretty much any gun, has two knives as backup weapons, has fought with swords before. Looks wise he has hair and is shorter than Wade and Logan, but I try to keep no specific height in mind while writing. Has a few scars scattered over his body, but nothing specific as of yet. Does not want a soulmate, thinks it just leaves people vulnerable. Lives on his own in an apartment he owns and is content with his life.

All you were, really, was hired help.

All you were supposed to do was stand around and look scary with a few other tugs in a warehouse with high shelves stacked with crates, while your employer (a generous word for the drug dealer that hired you) met with another drug dealer.

It had gone tits up the second a man wearing a red and black spandex suit and katanas on his back of all things came crashing through a window.

You had dived for cover, because there are gunshots ringing out in the milliseconds after the glass shatters. You curse, reaching for your gun, with just one single 10 bullet magazine, because your stupid employer had insisted you only needed one when you asked for more. So to have something more you had your adamantium knives strapped to each thigh, hidden enough under your black joggers.

You curse under your breath, cause this is fucking awful. You hear gunshots over and over again, people are dying, wood from shipping crates are splintering, metal is hitting the floor. 

And there’s talking. 

Fucking talking.

“Come one guys, your aim is all off! Did none of you ever train on the neighborhood cats?”

Well, more like yelling. Because even though the warehouse wasn’t empty, it still had an echo. You are used to the loud sounds, it fuels your adrenaline as you peek out from behind the crate you are using as a shield.

The man, you are just going to call him Red for now, is flipping and bouncing between crates, avoiding any big hits. A few bullets graze an arm, but he doesn’t seem to take notice as his own bullets find their marks, bodies dropping around him. He’s nimble and quick about it, taking down guys from both sides with equal gusto, and you find yourself just watching him carefully. He’s almost elegant, light on his feet, and a jab or taunt spewing out of his mouth every few bullets. 

Careful not to alert Red or anyone else about your position, you shift, gun in hand watching him saunter over to your employer, the last man standing. Well, not really, since he’s down on his knees, begging for something incoherent while fat tears and snot roll down his face. 

“Newsflash asshole, I don’t care for your tragic backstory that the writer won’t let you talk about.” Red raises his gun, one last loud bang filling the warehouse before it’s quiet once again.

“Last fucking one, my counting skills once again making me win.” Red claps his hands together, before moving his hands to his hips, looking around the warehouse. “What a fucking mess.” He shakes his head, and you see your opportunity now that he thinks it’s all over.

You move up, pulling the trigger as soon as your gun is aimed right. Red doesn’t even get to turn before six bullets go through his chest, two through his throat, and the last two finding their mark in his skull. You shouldn’t use all your bullets on one target like that, but still you do.  Red drops like a sack of potatoes, and you draw a sigh of relief, lowering your gun as you too look around the warehouse. You’re glad it’s far away from anything else, because it should take at least a few hours before the cops are alerted, and by that time you would be far away from this warehouse that is by now covered in blood, bullet casings, and dead men.

Your earlier relief turns into utter confusion as you hear shuffling, and when you turn back towards where Red’s body is, you see him shake his head where he lays crumpled on the floor, and seconds later he’s on his feet with a groan.

“Okay, good shot whoever that was.” You gape, words slipping out of your mouth without meaning to.

“What the fuck.” Red’s head snaps towards you.

“Oh, there you are.” His voice is light, almost like he’s halfway into song. “I would return the favor, but I’m fresh out of bullets so this will have to do.” He pulls out the katanas strapped to his back. You grab your knives, managing, somehow by the grace of whatever runs this universe, to bring it out just in time to block both katanas that were coming at you in tight formation.

“Oh so you weren’t just happy to see me.” Red jokes, and though you can’t see his face under the mask, you are pretty sure he is grinning. You grunt, because there is no way for your brain to form words as you parry another attack from him, retreating.

You are in no position to attack, so all you do is stop his, and try to escape, backing off. Or rather, you try to, but Red is not letting up, so all you end up doing is walking backwards through the warehouse in a vague path between boxes and shelves as he attacks. 

He manages to get a few slashes here and there to connect, but they are shallow, just enough to draw blood and sting. One on your left arm, two on your right arm, three on your left leg. You wonder if amounts are on purpose. He seems to take it all as encouragement, laughing, keeping up his quick attacks. 

You don’t know you hold out, breathing heavy, arms and hands hurting with how you are clutching and shielding with your knives like your life depends on it. 

Because it 1000% fucking does, that’s why you manage.

Red finally lets up, just enough that you can create some space between the two of you. You don’t dare to actually turn and run, certain he has no moral code of cutting down someone from behind. So you just try to slowly create even more room between the two of you as you watch for his next attack.

“Oh I am having fun!” Red tries to clap, but he just knocks the hilts of his katanas together. “Though we are just a little unevenly matched here.” He sounds like he’s breathing just a little bit harder at least, even though there are no cuts next to the bullet holes riddling his suit. He tilts his head for a moment, then bends down, and then there’s a katana sliding over the floor, bumping into your boot. You look down at it, before looking back up at him.

“Come on, pick it up.” Shifting your knives into one hand, you keep your eyes on the white eyes of his mask as you bend down and pick up the sword. 

“Oh yeah, look at me during.” You ignore his comment, feeling the weight of the katana in your hand. It’s heavy, but perfectly balanced, feeling perfect as you spin it in your hand a few times, the hilt still warm from Red’s earlier hold. 

“Hot.” Red says as he twirls his second katana, mimicking you. Once more ignoring him, you put your knives back in their sheats. “Do you have them there to distract your enemies by making them think you are going to jerk off mid-battle?” You snort.

“No, they are there so they are more hidden, and more difficult to grab.”

“If you wanted my hands in your pants all you had to do was ask, baby.” You think Red is winking at you through the mask. You roll your eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Shut the fuck up.” With both of your hands on the hilt of the katana, you are ready to defend yourself from his first attack.

“Ohhh, you remind me of someone. I think the two of you would get along, he’s also a man of few words. Maybe I’ll let you live so you can meet him and fight him too, more material for my spank bank.” He definitely winks this time, then you are defending yourself from another attack from him. It pushes you backwards, again, but this time, you are able to attack back.

Though you can’t help but wonder if he’s letting you, just indulging you. Because you can feel how strong he is when you parry his strikes, you felt how strong he was when all you had was your knives.

It’s a dance, a dance he lets you participate in as you block, attack, block, attack, block. Redirecting his sword coming for your throat so it splinters wood instead of flesh.

“How did you learn to fight like this?” Wade asks, almost spinning as his energy is redirected away from your body. He is at least breathing a little heavier, and for some reason, you find yourself having a little fun, even though you think you know how this is going to end.

“I was a loser in high school. What about you?” You speak through gritted teeth, the sound of metal on metal filling the warehouse as you block another attack. You don’t even know why you ask him back, but it feels right.

“Something similar.” It’s still kinda hard to tell, but you think he grins under his mask as you attack back.

You do get a few cuts in, deep enough that it slices through his suit and the skin underneath, but it leaves you with little satisfaction as you see the cuts heal in seconds. Though at least his suit can’t fix itself, growing more tattered by the minute as new slashes and old bullet holes make a mess of it.

“So you are not just a pretty face, there’s some skills there.” You frown, anger flaring, and you are about to say something, but with a quick move that you have no opportunity to block, and that  truly demonstrates the difference between the two of you, he nicks you with just the tip of the katanta, just on the left corner of your mouth. You startle, but on instinct your tongue goes out to lick at the blood now sliding down to your skin. It just gives you more motivation to strike back, a big one that leaves behind what could almost be called a titty window on his chest, showing textured skin underneath.

“Ohhhh, freaky.” Red taunts, slicing your chest too, though your skin doesn’t heal when metal connects after slicing through your shirt like air. You curse, adrenaline causing your ears to roar, and the world to go a little fuzzy at the edges. You touch your chest, fingers coming back bloody, watching Red. Your own katana pointing towards the floor, ready, but down as you breathe heavily.

“Leaving yourself all open for me? You shouldn’t have.” Red coos, and that is what you are counting on. Letting him attack you straight on, thinking you have given up, so you can shove the katana through his skull, killing him again, and leaving you at least a few moments to high tail it out of there.

It’s what the plan is.

It does not work out like you intend it to.

It goes in a whole new direction.

Because when he comes close enough, you manage to get a hold on his shoulder, which gets you a hopefully not deadly slice over your abdomen for your efforts. You are moving quickly, seconds away from stabbing the katana through the bottom of his jaw. But then your fingers touch a bare spot on his shoulder where his suit had gotten torn, and there’s a sparkler going off in your brain, a sizzling sensation that settles in the back of your head as feelings of excitement, adrenaline, and happiness that are not your own speeds through your mind.

You gasp out loud.

You can’t help yourself.

Because you know what that was.

And there is no fucking way.

WHAT. THE. ABSOLUTE. 

FUCK.

Fucking no.

A soulmate.

You have a fucking soulmate??????

And this is how you fucking meet him????

In all of your turmoil, you have dropped the katana that was destined to go through Red’s skull. He is a few paces behind you, not immediately attacking, just watching you as you turn around in your now mostly frozen state.

“Wh-”

“Touch me.” Red blinks, owlishly even with the white eyes of his mask.

“Wow, so forward. You know, con-” 

“Shut the fuck up.” You march over to him, and in what seems to be confusion he lets you tug the glove of his hand that is not holding his katana. You interlace your fingers, the motion absurdly tender for the moment that is currently playing out. You see his eyes widen behind the mask, and you are sure his mouth opens and closes several times even hidden as it is.

“What the fuck.” The words are so soft out his mouth that you are not even sure he said them. Not that it matters, because a second later he is wrenching his hand back like you burned him. He runs past you, and you watch as he picks up his katana where you dropped it, and then keeps running after that brief slowdown, heading towards a door you hadn’t noticed while you were fighting. You startle yourself into action finally, following him, but he’s out the door before you can reach him.

On the other side there’s a hallway, and his back is quickly retreating, and all you feel is panic. You are not sure which of you it is coming from.

You try to keep up with him through multiple hallways, but he’s fast, getting out of the building before you do. It’s enough of a headstart that you only see backlights and hear the roar of a motorcycle speeding away.

You run over to where the cars you all arrived in earlier are parked, but of fucking course all tires are slashed. Not like you had any of the keys anyway, but they would have been easy enough to find in some dead man's pockets.

“Fucking MOTHERFUCKER!” You know he can’t hear you, but you hope Red feels your frustration through your bond as you punch the hood of a car, denting the metal.

(Part 2)

[intoanotherworld23]

Not Free To Go

Summary: Sheriff Tyler Owens catches you breaking into his home, and he takes you back to the station to teach you a little lesson

Warnings: explicit content, mature themes, dominant Tyler, sheriff Tyler, submissive reader, fingering, spanking, overstimulation, use of authority, mention of crime, attempted burglary, implied sex

A/N: comments and reblogs are totally appreciated to show support for your writers! If you wish to be added to my Glen Powell tag list let me know so I can be sure to add you! Thanks everyone so much! XOXO

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"So you like breaking into peoples home huh?" The sheriff asked sternly as he bent you over the cold steel table. “Well you picked the wrong fucking house to break into.”

"I'm sorry." You whimpered pathetically as his foot pushed your legs further apart. In fact too far apart you could feel a slight burning in your muscles on your inner thighs.

"Oh now you're sorry." He chuckled devilishly at your poor excuse of an apology. You broke into the sheriffs home, and all you had to say or could say was just a plain and simple sorry. "I think you're just sorry you got caught.”

You weren't meant to get caught at all. It was just a dare that went too far, and you're the only one he was able to grab. Your stupid friends dared you to break into the Sheriff Tyler Owens house, and try to find something nice and expensive. Only thing is you didn't expect him to be at home waiting.

Then he had no time in driving you back to the station throwing you in a cell. There was something about the way he handled you, and looked at you that was dark. There was something much more than anger behind his eyes. You couldn't quite tell what it was though.

"Please I'm sorry I wasn't going to steal anything." Hoping that would make things better, but the sheriff just ignored you knowing that you were just lying.

"Were you by yourself or with friends?" Hands patting your legs squirming in his hold.

"Isn't a female supposed to check me?" You asked turning your neck to get a better look at him.

"Shut the fuck up." He raised his voice at you. "You lost that privilege when you decided to break into my home."

"You can't treat me like this." Speaking out again.

"Better watch that mouth sweetheart or it's gonna get you in big trouble." There was something in his tone as he said those words that had your thighs pressing together. It was the kind of trouble a woman like you was looking for.

"Or you'll do what?" You were really pushing him this time.

Tyler was fuming at this point, and all he had on his mind was teaching you a lesson. The way you talked back to him like a spoiled child. You were just asking for a punishment. There was only one way that he knew for sure would work.

"Now answer me." Feeling his hands now patting close to your area. "Who else was with you?"

"Nobody." You lied quickly not wanting to rat on your friends like that.

"I don't believe you." Tyler responded as he swatted at your inner thigh making you jump. The smack echoing around the room.

Most people would be terrified being in this position, but right now you were incredibly turned on by how dominant he was becoming. You couldn't help but feel you weren't the only one feeling this way.

"I'm telling the truth, sheriff there wasn't anybody else." Pleading with him to believe you. He still wasn't buying it.

"I'm gonna ask you one more time." His voice quieted as his thick hand pressed against your clothed core. "Was there anybody else?"

"What are you gonna do?" Whispering loud enough for him to hear fear and lust evident in your voice.

"Whatever I want with you." His hand smacking down where it laid your legs folding together.

The air had left your lungs, and it felt as if someone turned up the heat in this room several degrees. The only sound that could be heard was your heavy breathing. It felt like the room was closing in on you two, and there was no way to escape.

Quickly opening your legs back open for him. Feeling his hand back on you as he kept it there for a few seconds. He could feel how warm you were between your legs, and he was loving it. He was glad that you were feeling the same mood that he was.

“I bet you are just completely soaked down there.” He was stating more matter of factly than a question. It was the truth though if you were wearing any pants you would be dripping down your legs. “Bet you’ve got a creamy little cunt too.”

You could tell him you don't want this, and scream for help in hopes someone would come running in and stop all this. Instead you chose not to, and wanted more. You were hungry for his touch, and lust was all you could think about.

Tyler rubbing his hand up and down the pants you had on the fabric pressing into your clit. A tiny whimper slipping past your lips. Biting down on bottom lip hoping he didn't hear that. The air around you was becoming thicker making it harder for you to breathe.

"That feels good doesn't it sweetheart?" Tyler grinned knowing exactly what he was doing to you. Putting more pressure on your core just wishing he could feel how drenched you were for him. He wanted nothing more than to reach his hand down your pants, and collect your juices on his fingers.

"Just tell me what I want and I'll let you cum." Tyler whispered seductively in your ear pressing his now fully clothed erect cock into your backside.

Pushing unknowingly back against him to feel more as he kept rubbing his hand up and down more aggressively this time. Tyler saw what you were doing and chuckled to himself. He let you keep it up for a little bit before pulling away from you making you cry out.

"Ah ah ah." Pulling his hand away this time too not letting you get exactly what you wanted right away. "Not until you tell me what I need."

He already knew the truth that you didn't work alone, but he was the one in charge right now, and he needed to hear you say it. Right now he needed you to submit so he could also get what he wanted.

"Okay fine there was others." Blurting out finally telling him the truth just so desperate to feel anything at this point.

"Good girl." Patting your ass with praise making your cheeks heat up. "See that wasn't so hard now was it."

Before you could even respond the same hand that was rubbing on you was now sliding your pants off down to your ankles. Pushing past your panties feeling exactly how turned on he was making you. Tyler almost growled at how drenched you were so quickly.

"Fuck you are wet for me aren't you?" You could only respond with a moan unable to even speak as he touched you like a piece of artwork.

Able to easily slip his fingers inside of you pushing all the way to his knuckles. Your mouth hanging open as he pulled out and then pushed back in. Immediately starting a rhythm that had your body rocking against the table.

“Such a tight little cunt for a little thief.” Hissing more to himself than you as he watched your walls suck his fingers inside of you.

Pressing his whole body into you so that you were squeezed between the table and his body. Wanting nothing more than to rip yours and his pants off, and fuck you until tomorrow. He had patience though, and knew it would be worth it to hold out a little more.

"Is this what you wanted?" His tone condescending, and you felt ashamed for wanting this so easily.

"Yes yes yes." You babbled out already feeling the pressure building between your legs.

Tyler wanted a different response as his free hand smacked your ass harder this time. This time you could really feel the sting from the impact. He wanted you to know he was the one in charge, and the one with all the power right now.

"You wanna say that again sweetheart?"

"Yes sheriff." Responding back to him hoping that's what he wanted.

"That's a good girl for me." He praised again his fingers going faster this time as his palm smacked against your pelvis.

The suction noises echoing in both of your ears hearing exactly how drenched you were. Feeling your ears and cheeks burning a sudden embarrassment washing over you. Tyler was loving it though more than he ever thought he would.

Maneuvering his thumb so he could rub your clit pushing you over the edge. Crying out as his hand grabbed your mouth to keep you quiet. Hushing in your ear, but never once stopping or slowing down his movements.

"Can't have anyone know what I'm doing to you in here." Whispering in your ear as he nibbled on it. "Can you imagine what they would say if they caught you fucking the sheriff?"

That's the last thing you wanted for everyone in this town to hear about this. To know how easily you folded for him, and you broke into his house. Your reputation would be completely tarnished, and nobody would look at you the same.

Tyler knew he had the upper hand here. He knew you wouldn't say anything to anybody, cause they would probably take his word over yours. In fact Tyler might even keep you around longer to do this again.

"Dirty little thief spreading her legs to keep from going to jail." He kept going as if it was a shared secret between you two. "You'll do anything to keep from going to jail won't you?”

It came out more like a statement than a question because he already knew the answer to that one. He could tell you were the type of girl who would do anything to avoid jail time.

"Please." Begging him feeling so close to release already.

"Please what?" He teased again knowing what he wanted. Not wanting to let you get off so easily without having to work for it first.

"Please sheriff I wanna cum so badly." That was all he needed to hear for motivation. His hand gripping onto your hips as his fingers literally drove themselves into you pushing and pulling your body. Clenching around his fingers as your hands gripped the edge of the table.

Tyler’s fingers stayed still inside of you as they curved inside motioning in a come here action. Gasping loudly as you turned your head to bite into your arm at the motion. Tyler having you right where he wanted you.

Your entire body was on fire right now. Your legs were already trembling, and you didn't know how much longer you'd be able to last. Thank god for him holding you otherwise you'd have collapsed to the floor.

Tyler’s inner beast was banging against the cage wanting to be let out. All he wanted to do was devour you right against this table. He wanted you completely at his mercy, and to hear you beg for his cock.

Watching as your body wriggled under his hold, and how you couldn't control what your arms and legs were doing. It was like something was possessing you, and Tyler was the reason. Who would have ever thought getting caught breaking into the sheriffs office would leave to an amazing orgasm.

"Fuck yeah I want you to cum for me." Growling into your ear. "Want to feel that cunt cum around my fingers."

That was all you needed to hear as your entire body tightened. Legs shaking as your orgasm came over you violently. Mouth hanging wide open as whimpers and moans left your lips.

Tyler keeping you in place though against his body his cock really pressing into you. Imagining the whole time it was him inside of you instead of his fingers.

Your entire body felt defeated and weak. Not being able to lift your head or even move your arms. All that was just from him fingering you. Not sure if you were gonna be able to handle his cock now.

"Fuck I could tell you needed that." Tyler joked as he soothingly rubbed his hand up and down your back.

If you weren't in such a state of bliss you would have felt so ashamed for what you just did. Not being the type of girl who would spread her legs for just anybody. Let alone the sheriff of this town.

"Am I free to go now?" Asking timidly wondering if he would let you go.

"Oh no baby girl," hands gripping onto your hips harshly, "I'm not nearly done with you yet."

"But I told you what you wanted to know." Cranking your neck to look at his reddened face, and blown out eyes staring down at you.

"You still need to tell me your friend's names." That made your eyes go wide. "For that you get to cum around my cock."

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the treacherous tyrant

the wistful wyvern, chapter three

a/n: I'm just gonna take this moment as an excuse to say that if you haven't yet checked out the info or maps about this world i've created, then i highly recommend you do, it'll make it much more fun, for example when we hop around from place to place in this one? you can spot on the map where we are.

summary: halting a moment, he turned to tug your horse’s reins out of your grasp and let her stand on her own, “look, just follow my lead,” before he turned with the expectancy of you shadowing him, “I have a plan.” 

warnings: knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, ex-friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, former fuckboy!bucky, tattooed!bucky, slow burn, one-sided pinning, forced proximity

word count: 1374

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“What is it?” you asked when Bucky suddenly leapt off his horse and kneeled down to investigate a spot on the dusty path that split the treacherous terrain. 

“…boot marks…” he mumbled, “fairly recent too…” 

It had been a week or so that you’d been stuck trying to navigate through the jagged landscape of The Asadånie Mountains. From climbing rocky hillsides to the crumbly trail you now followed, it had been hard to know if you were making any headway at all or simply walking in circles. 

Straightening back up to his full height, you slid off your horse as well just as a low rustling noise, from further up where the path curved, found both your alert ears. 

Swiftly, you rushed in behind the tall shrubs that grounded the thin pine trees that shot up towards the blue skies above the mountains. 

The bigger of the peaks before you appeared to open up into a dark cave. In the mouth of it, posted just outside, stood three figures that sent a chill down your spine. 

Silently nudging the knight hiding beside you, his eyes too grew wide with recognition of the uniforms they wore. 

“What are Oblén soldiers doing up here in the mountains?” he whispered, sharing a glance with you before you turned your gaze back to the guards. 

A fourth figure then appeared, marching out of the cavern and prompting the other warriors to go rigid at his presence. 

“Commander Abbot,” one of the soldiers addressed the man clad in gilded armour, “did it go as planned?”

“Well, I still have my head, you idiot,” he rolled his eyes, “so yes, it went as well as it could.” 

“So, The Treacherous Tyrant is agreeable to the king’s orders, then?” one of the others asked as their commander began to walk away from the grotto, the guard’s feet slightly shuffling to keep up, “will he strike again before next full moon?” 

“As long as we keep his dearest safe, then he will continue to do as the king commands.” 

You both stood frozen, hidden behind the flora as the soldiers from the southern kingdom passed, scarlessly even breathing at all before they were long gone. 

“The dragon’s in cahoots with them?” you uttered as you guided your horse back up onto the narrow path, “how is that even possible?”

With his gaze low to the ground, Bucky then mumbled, “The Treacherous Tyrant… I’ve heard that before… what was it…” he shut his eyes a moment, “Farrowghol,” his vision blinked open once more as he remembered, “Farrowghol, The Treacherous Tyrant.”

“Holy fuck…” you shuttered, unable to stop the terror that began to rain down upon you as you stared over at Bucky and saw the wheels in his brain still turning. 

“They mentioned something about keeping something dear to him safe?” his features crinkled up in thought before unfurling with clarity, “oh, what if–…” and before he could finish his own sentence, share his brilliant idea with you, his feet began to move. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I have a feeling,” he began to walk towards the cave entrance, “something’s off.”

“You have a feeling? You’re gonna go get flambeed based on a fucking feeling?”

Halting a moment, he turned to tug your horse’s reins out of your grasp and let her stand on her own, “look, just follow my lead,” before he turned with the expectancy of you shadowing him, “I have a plan.” 

“Fuck your plan!” you screeched, standing your ground, “I’m not going in there!”

But as you watched him get swallowed by the darkness of the cave, only a few seconds passed by before a sharp curse burst out of you and you reluctantly followed him inside. 

Catching up to him, the dark tunnel soon unfolded into a vast and echoing grotto. Stalagmites burst up from the rocky floor and surrounded various mountainous boulders that might have crashed from parts of the caved-in ceiling where light now streamed in through the cracks and lit up the dim interior. 

For a moment, you thought perhaps the beast had flown away right before you’d entered the cavern.

But that moment didn’t get to linger for long as one of the enormous silhouettes you’d assumed was just another boulder began to move. 

The deep growl that then rumbled throughout the lair caused the small rubble on the ground to vibrate around your boots. 

Its scales were such a murky brown that it nearly looked pitch black, and as it reflected in the rays of light gushing in from above, an opalescent sheen glistened on its hide at its movements as its head unfurled, towering above you and eclipsing the low light before its wide jaw unhinged and a smouldering glow began to appear in the back of its throat. 

Throwing an arm around your waist, Bucky yanked you with him as he ducked behind a nearby boulder just before the monster began to spew fire at you. 

As flames licked up the sides of the rock, the view of them cresting over the top caused you to curl further into Bucky’s side. 

But when the dragon paused a moment, reeling before another go, the man beside you unexpectedly yelled, “we’re here to help!”

Shooting a glare up at him, “what the fuck, man?” you cursed in a hushed tone, “what are you doing? Shaking its hand and offering it a fucking pint?”

The leviathan’s booming rumble then invaded the entire cavern, “Farrowghol doesn’t need the help of wheezily little insects,” his heavy stride shook the space as he circled you like a large cat ready to pounce on their prey. 

“King Ivan has something you love,” Bucky bellowed, “we can get it back for you!” 

Farrowghol then suddenly halted, the entire cavern growing dead quiet. 

“That’s why you’re doing their bidding, correct?” Bucky went on, “they took something from you?” he then shifted, slowly sliding his crossbow off his back, “you can trust us. See?” he tossed the weapon off to the side for the beast to spot, “you and I, we share the same enemy.”  

Squeezing your eyes tightly shut, you thought for sure the dragon would let you feel his wrath once more, but instead, his deep roar resounded once more. 

“Not something,” he corrected, “someone.”

“A person?” Bucky carefully stepped out, leaving your hidden frame still in his eye line as he faced the beast with his palms raised up high. 

“My kin,” the dragon bellowed, “that’s who he has imprisoned. Ready to crush each and every one of them if I don’t obey. They’re hidden deep within his walls, in a chamber made entirely of hellstone,” he spoke of the rare material, which was the only thing known to be able to withstand the obliterating breath of a dragon, “I could never reach them, even if I tried, and I have.” 

“We can get them back!” Bucky promised, “set you free from the king’s control!” 

You couldn’t help but tremble as the beast's words shook the lair once more, “I lost my mate aeons ago… Those eggs are all I have left,” he shared hesitantly, “if something happens to them,” he warned with a crackle that raised the temperature a significant amount, “I will burn down everything you hold sacred.” 

“Sounds fair enough,” your fellow warden nodded tensely, “and if we do this, you’ll hold out on their commands of attack?”

“You have one lunar cycle,” he slowly settled, “if my kin have not returned to my cave within that time, I will not hesitate to strike.”

When you finally exited the cave and the bright sunlight once more licked at your skin, Bucky’s tense shoulders dropped back down with a long exhale, whereas yours, on the other hand, did not. 

“Alright,” he muttered, passing you as he briskly walked up to where your horses were still waiting, “so we just break into the palace in Ingorn. The chamber, it’s probably like a vault or something? That can’t be too hard, right?” 

Trailing behind him, you breathed, “no, it is…” before halting your step completely as you sighed, “fuck…” staring daggers down at the ground as you then uttered, “I have to go speak to my father.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[inkskinned]

something that stuck with me once, way back in middle school when i was still learning how to write - my teacher said "writing shock and tragedy is easy, it's humor that's the hardest."

i have been up and down the halls of academia. i have the fancy degree and the experience in publishing. i think i paved most of my own road with the little bricks of sorrow i had stored inside of me. i know i did it mostly with works that are blisteringly lonely. i know why we write like that. it's lifesaving.

but yeah, i mean. i also know how much people think that "sad" media is the same thing as "good" media. our human desire to connect is so hard-pressed that we immediately latch onto any broken themes. the bullied kids and the tales of inspiration. people keep saying things like "glass onion" and "everything everywhere" weren't actually good. because, you know, they're. happy. or happy-ish. happy enough. and we only value art if it's grimdark-adjacent.

do you know - people still consistently whine at me that my writing would be so good if i just capitalized things. i used to flinch. i get kind of a weird, vindictive little rush these days - i get to say thank you for the comment! i have chronic pain and this is how i conserve my hands so i can write more during the day :) grammar isn't real anyway! and now they're trapped in the room with me, you know? i get to pull out my map and show them how grammar is not the same thing as good writing.

writers have this thing. we scratch at our insides, constantly, prying our lives apart into splinters. prying the splinters apart into atoms. when we combust something into poetry, we control it. it cannot hurt us if it exists outside of us rather than burning a hole through the bottom of our lungs. it's not a wonder to me that so much of what i make comes out like a death gasp. i spent a long time at the bottom. i keep going back, too. when you're down there for so long, the only thing you can exhale is fumes.

but humor is hard. humor needs timing; which i can't promise in a paragraph. i can kind-of force it through careful spacing, but i have no idea how fast you're reading these things. humor needs a somewhat awareness of your audience, when really - anybody could be looking. humor needs us to understand what the joke is, why it's a joke, and to think - ha! that is funny. in tragedy, everyone understands the metaphor of a kicked puppy. in humor, you need to introduce them to the concept of a dog.

and forget about positivity. forget about anything not made for adults explicitly. every time i see a well-made children's media piece, i feel fucking horrible for the creators. most of the time, people see children's media as being sort of "not worth" applause, even though i'm pretty sure they have to work twice as hard. i have no idea how hard it must be to not be able to have your character just say. "well, fuck." something about a message of peace or friendship or caring - for some reason, that makes the media not for adults. like, okay. i'm pretty sure my father actually, out of all of us, could use a good book on how to control his temper and talk about his feelings.

but whatever. i write a short story about my ocd, and how it's fucking killing me. it gets an award. it gets published. i write a short story about my ocd, and how i'm overcoming it, and how my days are getting lighter and starting to flourish. i keep getting ghosted. no response. it just is lacking... something.

is this it, forever? you can be an artist, okay. but the trade off is that the things you make - if they're happy? if they're joyful? people will say it's stupid and pandering. you bite your nails off. you file your teeth. you hear something inside of you breaking.

the other day in a writing group, someone i'd thought of as a friend said: "you write so much better these days! i love what you make when you'd rather be dead."

[lovelytsunoda]

the day you kissed a writer in the dark // han lue (tokyo drift)

summary: she's stood by his side for years. his loyal mechanic, the brains behind his brawn. but she'd be lying if she said that it didn't hurt to watch him flirt with those other women in his club, when he came home to her every night in secret.

bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark, now she's gonna play and sing and lock you in her heart. i am my mother's child, i'll love you 'till my breathing stops.

pairing: han lue x mechanic! reader

warnings: smut, inappropriate use of a drifting car, insecurity and self-doubt, secret relationships, unplanned pregnancy.

author's note: here's something a little different today, lovelies! it's a departure from the usual realm of f1 content i usually bless you all with, but i felt like i needed to do something different to avoid burning myself out, and rewatching tokyo drift gave me the inspiration that i needed :)

she hated the club.

in the back end of her mind, she always resented the mere existence of that secret room leading to han's garage. the fact that he chose to surround himself with women in tight dresses with long legs and perky boobs like he was some kind of yakuza punk.

well, this wasn't crows fucking zero. this was real life.

she couldn't help but draw comparisons between these beautiful girls and herself. as she curled in on herself to duck through the crowd, she frowned at her reflection in the window: her torn up jeans, the grease stain on the cuff of her army-green sweater, the zip barely done up enough to cover up her double-d's, a small nut from her very first car hanging limply from a chain around her neck.

some days, she wondered why han had chosen her of all people.

"sean?" she asked quietly, poking the young american boy in the arm, practically shouting to be heard. "have you seen han?"

sean shook his head. "no, sorry. have you checked the garage?"

"i'm heading back there now. thanks, sean." she sighed, backing out the way that she came, trying not to think about all of the places that her boyfriend could be right now.

the anxiety ate away at her. was he with one of the other girls? one of the prettier, taller, thinner ones? was that why he wanted to keep the relationship under wraps?

was han ashamed of her?

she hurried down the rickety metal staircase, dropping her purse on the workbench as she went, subconsciously placing a hand over her stomach as she thought about the white plastic stick inside the fake leather bag.

they'd been sneaking around for a year, but they'd known each other far longer. she had come to tokyo when she was twenty-one, with a pocketful of cash and a monkey wrench. she had a high school diploma, but that didn't mean much to the rally teams she had applied to work on the pit crews for.

and that's when han swooped her up. when she became the bonnie to his clyde, the mechanic for his little street racing gambit.

that was three years ago. now she was almost twenty-five, he was twenty-seven, and he was in far too deep for them to keep going like this.

she knew why he had to keep it a secret. telling the world that she was his lover would put a target on her back. because that's what happens when you get in deep with someone like dk.

she pulled her hair back with the green rubber band on her wrist, pushing up her sleeves as she reached for a ratchet and approached han's car, the hood already open and ready for her.

working on the cars had always been her safe haven. her distraction from the outside world. fixing something that was broken gave her a satisfaction like no other.

"babe?" han's voice echoed through the garage, and she hated herself for the way that she froze up, fingers tightening around the ratchet. "sean said you were asking around for me? is everything okay?"

she withdrew from the car, slamming the hood down. "you're pushing the car too far. the engine is wearing down, you have to get something stronger. the serpentine belt is at it's brink."

"and that's why you're the brains of this operation and i'm just the pretty boy who drifts." han said playfully, wrapping his arms around her midsection as resting his chin on her shoulder.

"be more careful out there, seoul-oh." she said softly, placing a cold hand on top of his warm one before turning her head and kissing him softly. "i don't know what i'd do if anything ever happened to you."

han spun her body around gently, his hands on her waist as she jumped to perch her body on the edge of the hood, her fingers tangling in his dark, silky hair.

"you don't need to worry about me, sweetheart. i'm going to be okay."

she sighed, lacing her fingers together behind his neck. "where were you, han? wandering around your club with a girl on each arm? a girl that's three times prettier than i am, maybe one who's clothes are a little more revealing-"

"y/n, stop." han said firmly. "baby, you're the only one. my only one." he kissed her on the forehead softly. "i love you. i love you so much that it hurts. i wish i could shout it from the rooftops, but i can't put you in danger like that. i don't want dk to know, because that's a target on your back that i don't want there."

he pulled her as close as he could, arms wrapped securely around her as he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. "i couldn't live with myself if anything ever happened to you."

the sincerity in the older man's voice was reassuring. but some days, it wasn't enough. she loved him more than words could say, but she was getting tired of being his little secret.

but at the end of the day, it was her bed that he always came home to. his arms she woke up in. his terrible singing in the kitchen while he made coffee with breakfast.

han lue was hers.

she kissed him again, still sitting on the edge of the toyota's hood. this kiss was stronger, harder. with more feeling as she bunched han's sweater up in her fingers, trying to wrestle it off his broad shoulders, his hands gripping her thighs tight enough to make her moan against his lips.

"seoul-oh." she mumbled as han broke away from her, pulling his sweater off the rest of the way before tugging his everlast t-shirt over his head.

they fit together like well-worn puzzle pieces, his lips finding that place on her neck that made her crumble, turned her legs to jelly as he slipped a hand up the front of her sweater, thumb tracing comforting shapes against her stomach as he nipped at her neck, biting down gently. there would be a hickey there in a mere matter of hours.

trailing kisses back up her neck, he gently bit her earlobe before placing one hand on the side of her face to guide her lips back to his, the other hand braced against the hood of the car to hold himself up. she bit down on his bottom lip, wrenching a growl from the back of han's throat.

he pulled away, dropping to his knees in front of the car as his large hands dipped under the waistband of her jeans. after reaching down to untie and kick off her beat up vans, she reached above her to grab the exposed beam in the garage ceiling, pulling her body up and allowing han to pull her jeans and panties down her legs in one fell swoop.

"oh, not on the car, baby. you'll stain the bodywork."

"don't care." han hummed, kissing the soft skin of her thigh. "i can't think of anything prettier than you. on the hood of my car, legs spread wide for me." he mumbled in between kisses, inching ever closer to where y/n needed him most, her arousal dripping onto the cool metal hood of the drift car.

and when his lips touched her throbbing clit, she could have sworn she turned electric, using one hand to brace herself against the car and burying the other in han's hair as she threw her head back in a throaty moan.

"han." she panted, grinding against his face as his tongue licked and sucked at her core. "oh, baby, yes."

han smiled to himself, kissing her clit gently as he held her thighs open with his hands. "still think that i don't find you attractive any more?"

"shut up, please. i need you so bad." she'd barely finished speaking when another low, seductive moan left her mouth. the arm that was holding her body up threatened to buckle underneath her as she tugged on han's hair, urging him to keep going.

han chuckled, the vibrations sending shockwaves through her body as her arm buckled, and she found herself lying against the hood, her head on the windscreen as she bucked her hips, searching for more as her lover tongue-fucked her, her legs thrown over his shoulders with reckless abandon.

"seoul-oh." she whined, clenching her thighs around han's head

"i know, baby." he mumbled softly, kissing her thigh. "you're doing so well darling. come for me."

and that's exactly what she did. with a moan so loud that she was shocked that the patrons of the club couldn't hear it echoing through the garage, she let go, her juices coating the lower half of han's face as he licked her clean before wiping off the bottom half of his face with the back of his hand.

"fuck." he mumbled, standing between her legs and leaning over the car to kiss her. "i can't get enough of you, baby. i think i'm gonna need more."

"oh yeah?" she smiled sitting up slightly, resting her weight on her elbows and raising an eyebrow when she saw the obvious hard-on struggling to break free from the confines of han lue's jeans. "and what do you think we should do about it?"

"back. room. now." he said, softly but firmly, kissing her in between each word as she wrapped her bare legs around his body, allowing han to pick her up and carry her over to the back room, where a double bed was piled high with blankets for the nights where they worked late, or drift races lasted until the mere hours of the morning.

or, nights where neither of them wanted to go home. han was sure that they had fucked on almost every available surface of the garage.

she undid her sweater slowly, revealing the lacy white bra underneath, the makeshift pendant on her necklace hanging delicately just above the hollow of her breasts as she cast the fabric aside, reaching up to snap the elastic band in her hair, letting it cascade in waves down her shoulders.

"you're beautiful, you know that?" he said softly, kneeling on the mattress as he rested one hand gently against her cheek.

she leaned into his touch, reaching up to wrap her slender fingers around his wrist, pressing a soft kiss to the heel of his hand.

she knew she should tell him. han needed to know.

but now was definitely not the time.

not that she could find the words while he kissed her neck, her chest, her stomach, his fingers dancing across her back as he fumbled with the clasp of her bra, erection straining against his jeans.

"han, babe." she mumbled, reaching behind her. "it's been a year now, you should know how to undo a bra, mr. womanizer." she joked, pushing his hands away as she pulled the bra off by herself.

"why would i need to know how to do it when you just take it off by yourself most of the time?" he grinned, standing up to unbuckle his belt.

he started to undo his jeans, pausing halfway as if he had forgotten something before he darted over to the rolling toolbox in the back of the room, pulling a small foil packet out of the top drawer.

fat lot of good a condom would do them now.

not when she was already carrying his baby inside of her.

her body trembled with anticipation as she watched han rid himself of his jeans, the echo of his belt buckle hitting the floor echoing around the room before he rolled the latex sheath onto his thick, hard cock.

god, she was a fool in love. han seoul-oh made her feel every range of emotions all at once.

"seoul-oh." she mumbled, lips against his as he clambered onto the bed, covering her body with his broad one.

"hm?" han mumbled, pressing kisses all over her face.

"i love you, han lue." she said firmly, gently pushing his face away so she could look him in the eyes. "i mean it, babe. you've ruined me for anybody else. you're it for me."

"good, because i don't think i could love anybody else if i tried." han breathed out, kissing her again, the tip of his cock teasing her entrance.

she squirmed under him, a small gasp escaping her lips before she bit down on her bottom lip.

she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of hearing her beg. that wasn't what tonight was for.

han knew this as well, gently pushing himself inside her. tonight was about more than just chasing a high. for both of them. it was about love, and reassurance, and intimacy.

she threaded her fingers through his hair, whining as han moved ever so slightly, the sensations they both felt sending shockwaves through their bodies.

"seoul-oh." she moaned softly. "please. god, you feel incredible."

"yeah?" han crooned, thrusting softly and barely holding back a moan of his own. "you look so pretty with my cock inside you, my sweet sweet girl."

"just like that." she whined as he thrusted again, bucking her hips into him, trying to take his length deeper. "keep doing that, fuck."

when han's nimble fingers came up grip and massage her right breast, she knew she was a goner, arching her back to drive her body into him with a moan as he kissed her chest.

"you like that, baby? yeah, you love having my hands all over you. and i love touching your beautiful body." han murmured, sucking a hickey onto her collarbone. he could feel himself unravelling, knew that the end was nigh as he moaned against her skin, blindly reaching for her hand.

there were no more slow thrusts as the driver began to pick up the pace, his lover's legs wrapped tightly around him as she moaned his name.

"oh god, han, baby. fuck, keep going." she panted, one hand trailing down her body to play with her clit. anything to get her closer to that release she craved as she whined and squirmed under han's touch.

she'd seen this film before, and she already knew the ending. and the start if the sequel.

"come for me, baby. i know you can take it, just give me one more, okay?"

"han, han, holy shit." she moaned, feeling the coil in her stomach finally snap, her high crashing over her like a wave.

her lover groaned above her, a guttural sound ripped straight from his throat before han gently pulled out of her sensitive body, the evidence of his own peak contained within the clear latex that he slid off his member, tying the condom off in a knot before punting it into the trash can next to his desk.

she pulled the blankets up as han settled in the bed next to her, his warm fingers dancing in gentle circles against her sweaty skin as they laid together in the afterglow, a content look on his face as he kissed her on the forehead.

"seoul-oh." she said quietly, twirling his long, dark locks of hair around her fingertip. "i have to tell you something."

"what's on your mind, pretty girl?" worry creased han seoul-oh's face, a pit forming in his stomach.

he hated seeing her like this.

"i'm pregnant."

han's eyes widened. "what? babe, why didn't you tell me?"

"i've been trying all day. but you've had your hands full with dk and sean and drifting." she said sadly. "but i can't raise this baby with dk breathing down our necks. you need to get out of this life, seoul-oh."

han frowned thoughtfully, one hand resting against the side of her face. "i'm going to be a father. fucking hell, babe this is incredible. i promise you, i'm going to make a plan, and i'm going to get us out of tokyo."

"you know we can't keep this a secret any longer, right? i'm already eight weeks along, once the first trimester ends, i won't be able to hide it."

"you're right, you're right. we'll test the waters. i'll tell sean and twinkie in the morning, see how the news of our relationship goes over with them. i want to keep it from dk until i can find a way to get us out of here."

y/n nodded, lacing her fingers with han's and placing his hand on her stomach. "okay. let's do this thing." she broke out into a smile. "we're going to be parents, han. can't you picture it? sitting behind the wheel of your toyota, with our little gremlin on your lap, teaching them how to drive before they can even walk."

han laughed. "they'll be born with a monkey wrench in one hand and a bag of lays in the other."

"i love you, seoul-oh." she said softly, kissing him gently. "i'm so glad i found you three years ago.

"i love you more, y/n. and i can't wait to raise this kid with you."

Tags (though im not sure if any of you are interested loll):

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Heartless

Takeshi Kovacs X F!Reader

Summary: you get hurt, and all you want is for Takeshi to comfort you

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, choking, praising, bit of soft!dom!Tak, creampie, explicit language, mentions of murder, blood, typical violence for this show

WC: 4.5k

A/N: please I know, lia you wrote something??? Ik, fucking wild. Its been like 6months lmao. But I was rewatching altered carbon and man I really missed tak. I might slowly dive back into my joel era but for now this is this. I dedicate this to @a-reader-and-a-writer. If this flops oh well, at least I was happy writing it.

You often regretted your life choices. Stupid decisions you made as a teenager that ultimately led you into a world of violence and death. It seemed never ending. Because no matter how many times you tried to go straight, use your skills and intelligence for something good, your reputation always preceded you, and you would end up in the same place; with a gun in your hand, covered in blood, and with another body to add to your conscience. Though, ninety percent of the time it wasn't your fault. Just like this time it was not your fault. Trouble just seemed to find you. Or you liked to find trouble, or maybe both. 

“Ah Miss, what a pleasant surprise.” The AI that was this lovely hotel greeted you. “Oh. It appears that you are injured. Do you require medical assistance?” 

You looked down at your blood stained clothes and hands, you felt the slightest throb on your shoulder from where a bullet had grazed you, and the stinging burn on your side from where a switchblade slashed at your skin. But to be completely honest you had grown numb to it. You simply shrugged. 

“Nope. Just need a shower and some tequila.” You waved him off and you walked straight to the elevator, but before you entered, you turned around in your tracks to narrow your eyes at Poe. “Where is Takeshi?”

“Ah, Mr. Kovacs is not here at the moment. He left some hours ago to attend to some private matters he didn't disclose with me.” He answered plainly and you nodded. 

“Shocker. Well if he comes, don't tell him I'm here? Cool? Great.” You were about to go up to the room you used whenever you and Takeshi were fighting, when Poe spoke again. 

“Why is that? Wouldn't he like to know you are injured?” 

“Oh fuck, no. Don't even tell him you saw me like this.”  

Takeshi would go absolutely mad if someone spoke to you the wrong way. You still remember one time you joined him on one of his interrogations, for one reason or another. The man wouldn't keep his eyes off you, though you paid it no mind, you were used to men being nothing short of disgusting, or them calling you every sexual name in the book. But Takeshi? Man, pissed was nothing to describe the level of anger going through him. He didn't stop until the man was nothing but red. You, of course, while amused by his protectiveness of you, got him to stop. 

“Tak, sweetheart, you need him conscious and breathing, don't you think?” 

“He won't be doing much of either anymore.” 

Takeshi was cute when he was angry, more so when he was overprotective of you. But even then, there were some lines you never wanted to cross. And if he ever saw you like this, the thought of someone hurting you like this would drive him mad. No stack would be left unharmed by him if he had any say in the matter. 

So for the sake of the men you did leave alive, it would be best if Tak didn't see you like this. 

“Well, why not?” Poe pushed, clearly he didn't understand the level of insanity Takeshi was capable of reaching. 

“Because, if Tak sees me like this, he is not going to be very happy. He is going to actually cut somebody's head off—Again. Actually no, scratch that, he is going to decapitate and destack a lot of somebody's,” You said as slowly and as clearly as you possibly could, pausing to stare at the hologram as if to make a point. “So do not tell Takeshi I'm here, or that you saw me like this.” 

So much for wanting to stay out of trouble for once. 

~~~~~~

Man what a fucking shitshow. Truly, he didn't understand when the world had gotten so damn complicated. He didn't like to leave messes, he really didn't, but sometimes people would just force his hand, he had to get answers one way or another. 

He should call you. Yes. He should do that. If there was one thing in this fucked up reality of his that he knew would never go wrong, it was seeing you. 

“Mr. Kovacs,” Poe appeared at the bar, getting Takeshi's attention, but he didn't even bother to look. “I was not expecting to see you tonight. Were you able to attend to your matters?” 

“Yeah.” Was all he responded to as he walked towards the elevator. His eyes were glued to the ground as a cigarette hung from his lips, he was tired and annoyed, frustrated and even more tired, but something caught his attention as he thought about his own self misery. 

Blood. 

“Why is there blood here?” He asked Poe with a slight shift from apathy to alarm as he traced the trails of blood droplets back the way he came.

“Oh… Yes.. That… Well you see.” 

“Was someone here?” He asked with sharpness in his naturally baritone voice, looking around for anything out of place or broken, but everything looked normal. 

“No. Well… Yes.. But..” 

Takeshi’s head snapped to look at the AI, eyes narrowed as he stared intensely, waiting for an answer. 

Oh. It better not be. 

~~~~~~

Just get in the shower. You can do that, can't you? 

Apparently you struggled more than you should have with that. It wasn't like you had a bullet in you, but then again, you also had gotten thrown through a table, and punched repeatedly, and stabbed, and shot—kind of. But man was the pain starting to infect every muscle, every joint, every crevice of your body. You weren't exactly sure how you got out of the shower. But you managed to wash the dried blood off you. Though you were still left with two open wounds that were most likely going to have to be cauterized. 

You weren't going to enjoy this very much. 

You were hoping to just throw yourself on the bed and get it over with before Takeshi decided to spontaneously show up. By then your wounds would have been closed, what were two new scars? It's not like Takeshi would notice two more among so many. Or maybe he would notice, but by then it would have been enough time for him to be angry about it but not actually do anything about it. 

Pushing through the now throbbing pain shooting through your shoulder every time you moved your arm, you managed to get yourself into your underwear, but that was as far as that went. 

You had made it halfway from the bathroom to your bed when you heard your name being called, rather loudly, by a voice you were all too familiar with.

Well fuck. 

Takeshi followed the blood. There were drops on the elevator floor, stains on the buttons of the elevator. When the door opened, he followed the drops as his heart began to race. It wasn't a lot of blood, you weren't bleeding out, that was for sure, but his mind wouldn't stop racing. He called your name as he walked further into your room. 

His jaw tightened at the sight of you, slightly hunched over, holding your side as you limped across the room. And the look you gave him was one of deer in headlights. 

“Takeshi…” Your voice was hesitant, soft, wary as you leaned on one of the couches to support yourself. 

He was in front of you in three, maybe four, long, heavy strides. His eyes were frantic, darting all over as he looked over your face. Your eye looked like it was going to bruise, your lip split and your jaw looked angry with a forming bruise. 

“Who..” His words were barely audible, just barely above a rasp as he gripped your non bruised jaw tightly, forcing you to look at him. 

“Tak…” 

“Who the fuck did this to you?” 

You should not be getting wet at the sound of his angry words, but the rasp laced in his tongue had you clenching your thighs together. Takeshi was hot when he was angry. 

“It's fine, Tak. I'm fine, really.” You looked up to find his frantic eyes filled with fiery emotions, his jaw clenching and unclenching with each uneven breath he took. “You should see the other guy.” 

Normally Takeshi found your dry humor amusing. But he couldn't get himself to even let out a chuckle, instead he huffed as he looked over your face. 

“I want a name. Right now.” His words were barely audible, between huffs and puffs as he begrudgingly helped you sit down on the loveseat. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. 

“Can't. Kinda shot him in the stack.” You answered flatly, huffing out a small breath as you threw your head back over the armrest. Takeshi narrowed his eyes at you, noting each bruise and mark on your torso, including the angry looking cut on your side. 

“This wasn't just one person,” it wasn't a question, it was a fact, he knew that. He stared blankly at you as he waited for your response. The sigh you let out was confirmation enough. “What happened? And I want an answer without the attitude.” 

You winced, a hiss of discomfort leaving your mouth as he ran the laser over the large gash on your side. You closed your eyes, counting to five in your head before you answered. 

“I thought I was going in for a job. Something about needing access to some encrypted files,” You recalled what you had so innocently assumed to be just a simple hacking job, in and out with a decent pay, oh how mistaken you were. “The dude that had contacted me suddenly starts getting all up in my face, and asks me some weird questions about you. And when I told him to fuck off, his friends came out.” 

You shot him a glare when he silently moved to your shoulder, but that one was less deep so it didn't hurt as much, it definitely didn't hurt as much as when the bullet actually touched your skin though. 

“Why didn't you call me?” His eyes were sharp on you as he waited for your answer. Was he seriously angry at you?

“Oh right, and what was I supposed to say, ‘oh, hey sweetie, could you please come shoot some people I was doing illegal business with in the stack with me, pretty please?’” You raised your voice to a higher pitch, doing this valley girl accent which only made him inhale deeply. 

“Do you ever answer anything without the bullshit?” He muttered with exasperation as he angrily lit up a cigarette and took a drag out of it. 

“I handled it, Takeshi. Let it go.” You ultimately sighed, reaching over to brush your bruised knuckles over the side of his face. 

His eyes found your face, he saw the forming bruises, and he remembered the blood. Somebody did this to you. Somebody hurt you and he wasn't there to stop it. You could have died. He could feel the anger settle in the pit of his stomach and he began to feel the urge to rip somebody's stack out with his bare hands. His fists clenched at his sides. 

“Like hell.” He stood up so fast it gave you whiplash. You didn't want him to go. You needed him. 

“Don't go,” You stood up so fast your side was definitely screaming at you but you didn't care. He wasn't looking at you, his eyes looked way past your head at the nearest wall. But you grabbed his face, forcing him to meet your eyes. “I need you.. Please? For once just stay with me.” 

Please. 

You didn't beg often. But when you did, there was not a thing in this world he could ever deny you. He found your eyes, big mistake. The second he saw those pleading eyes he was done for. He hated the ways in which you could so easily tug at the strings of his cold heart. For the longest time he thought he didn't have a heart, until he saw you for the first time and that thing started beating. 

His mouth was on yours, he kissed you long and hard. He grabbed your face as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. He held you, pulling your body against his. Your fist bunched around his shirt, gripping it like vice as he kissed you with fervor, like this was the last thing he ever wanted to do in this world. 

“You wanna take care of me? Hm?” You spoke softly against his lips, your fingers now threading through his long golden strands. 

The grunt that rumbled in his throat was almost animalistic. He wanted you on that bed and he never wanted you to leave it. 

“You're in pain..” He muttered through deep breaths as his long fingers gripped your jaw, forcing your head back as he brushed his nose against yours, holding on to the little stability he had left. “Don't wanna hurt you.” 

“I like it when you hurt me. I want it.” Your words were soft and desperate, quiet as you brushed your lips over his. Pain was the last thing on your mind when you had him this close, when you felt his touch, when you knew he was hanging in by a thread. You needed this more than you needed air in your lungs. 

“You want it?” He repeated, voice as low as it could go, eyes closed as he waited for that confirmation, for your permission, to absolutely ruin you. 

“Yes. Please Takeshi, I need it.” 

There wasn't anything better than Takeshi's cock in your guts after a brush with death.

His large calloused hands found the back of your bare thighs, he so easily hoisted you up around his waist as his lips crashed against yours without another word being said. He was a man of little words afterall. He was a man of action. And he was goddamn sure he would give you exactly what you needed. 

Your back landed on the soft duvets, but his lips never parted from yours. Your frantic hands shoved his coat off his shoulders, then the buttons of his shirt as he fumbled with his pants. It took some time, between desperate grabs and frantic hands, he was just as naked as you, only your underwear left between the two of you. 

His lips found your neck, wet kisses all over the skin as his hands roamed your body. He pulled back enough for his eyes to look you over. He would never get tired of looking at you. 

“You're so…” He didn't have to say it, the look in those hazel eyes of his said every word he wasn't capable of saying out loud. 

You gave him a smile, your eyes big with both longing and endearment. He kissed you one more time before he tugged your panties down. He settled just beside you, thick thighs caging one of yours as his long fingers brushed over your clit, leaving you to gasp against his mouth. His lips curved up slightly as his fingers moved in slow, long circles. He could feel you get wetter and wetter the longer he kept up his torture. He liked to hear you whine and beg for it. 

“Tak..” His name fell from your lips when you no longer could keep your mouth closed, you were gripping at his shoulder as you helplessly grinded against his fingers, desperate for more. 

“Mhm?” His lips were on your ear, his warm breath ghosting over the side of your face with each sharp inhale he took. “Need me to fuck you with my fingers, then with my cock? Is that it?” 

You were nodding so hard, gasping softly when he circled his fingers around your wet hole, teasing you. 

“Mhm!—Please—” You didn't even get the chance to finish your sentence when two long fingers buried themselves deep into your cunt. 

Your lips fell open as your eyes unconsciously rolled back into your head, the delicious feeling of his thick fingers filling you. It wasn't long before Takeshi was all but fucking you with his fingers, and you were nothing but sobs of pleasure. He buried his fingers to the knuckle, brushing your most sensitive spot with each snap of your wrist. 

Fuck did you look pretty like this. But you looked prettier when you were drunk on his cock. 

His free hand gripped your hair, keeping your head in place so he could watch the way your face would contort with pleasure. The lewd sound of your wet cunt being filled by his fingers wasn't lost on him either. He loved it. He was addicted to it. 

“That's it, let it go, sweetheart.” He grunted through his teeth when he realized you were so close, the way your hips were so desperately following the movements of his hand and the grip you had on his wrist was all but telling. He gave you a long satisfied hum when he felt your release coat his hand with a sob of his name. 

His fingers only left you when you were digging your nails into his wrist. His lips curled up in amusement at your desperate attempts but he ultimately complied. His lips were on your forehead as he eased you back into steady breathing.  

“You okay?” He was quiet, but you heard it. You simply nodded in response, still not fully able to find your voice. Good enough. “Good, ‘cause I'm gonna give you exactly what you deserve now.” 

He grabbed your arms and flipped you on your stomach with ease. You were taken aback, instinctively pushing yourself up on your forearms, but a hand on your back forced you back down. 

“Easy. Just relax, sweetheart,” he shushed you softly, you felt him move around for a second until you felt him behind you, right in between your open thighs. “Lemme take care of you, hm?” 

Your response was in the form of a soft hum, you lied flat on your stomach, your head to the side so you could breathe and your ass up enough for him to do as he pleased. And you waited, rather impatiently. You could feel Takeshi's hands on your hips, then up your back, until one of them settled on your shoulder blades. 

You were about to open your mouth when you felt the head of his cock brush over your wet clit. The only sound leaving your throat was that of a choked out moan. 

“You want it?” His lips were on your ear, voice smooth, but with this baritone rasp, a combination that drove you insane. You were nodding into the blankets. 

“Yes, Takeshi. Please.” 

Fuck, he was rolling his eyes at the sound of his name leaving your lips like that. He didn't need to say anything else. He pushed himself into you with a long, hard thrust that had you gasping. 

“Ahh….” You squeezed your eyes shut, hands squeezing the sheets in front of you at the feeling of his cock stretching your walls. You have been with Takeshi for some time now, but you never truly got used to the size of him (with this sleeve at least). “Fuck— you're so..” 

He eased a hand up and down your back, shushing you softly, he was used to it by now. When he felt you start to back into his cock he knew you were fine. He dug his fingers into your shoulder, holding you down on the mattress as he snapped his hips. A gasped cry left your lips. Again, and again with each brush of his cock, until he had you sobbing into the mattress. 

Takeshi, he fucked hard, and he liked it rough, but he had learned to take his time, he learned to take it slow, drag out the feeling for as long as possible, until you were nothing but a sobbing mess. His hand was wrapped around your hair, pushing your head down as he leaned over you. His chest was flush against your back as he rutted his hips against your ass, his lips on the back of your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses everywhere he could. 

Takeshi wasn't very talkative, ever, but goddamn was he noisy. His heavy pants, ragged grunts, the occasional fuck, were all in your ear which each delicious drag of his cock. 

“Goddamn,” he breathed out, nipping at your jaw as he pulled your head up enough to look at your fucked out face, “you feel so fucking good.” 

“Mhmmm. Shit, Tak. Feels so—” You couldn't even finish a cohesive sentence you were so cock drunk, so high on the feeling of his cock brushing that one spot that had you rolling your eyes. You reached behind you, trying to grab him, any of him. 

“Feels good, doesn't it baby?” You could hear the slight smirk on his lips as he wrapped his arm over your neck from shoulder to shoulder, almost as if he was putting you in a headlock. 

“Yes! Fuck yes—” 

“Of course it does.” 

That was enough of taking it slow for one night. 

Takeshi held you in place with his arm over your neck as he drilled into you. The only sounds leaving your mouth were sobs and choked out pants. You couldn't say any words at that point. He was fucking you so hard into that mattress you didn't even realize when the burn in your stomach started to build. All you knew it was that you were digging your nails into his arms so hard the marks would be there for days. It felt good to be caged under his body, with nowhere to go. Not that you wanted to be anywhere else. 

“C'mon, let me take care of you. I'm right here.” He rasped out, hanging on by a thread himself. God, it felt so fucking good. You were barely hanging on. But the second his thumb found your swollen clit you were done for. You couldn't even make a sound, you fell into a silent cry, eyes rolled into the back of your head as your release washed over you. “That's it. I got you.” 

He could feel your release coat his cock, and the feeling of you coming all over him only made him go over the edge himself. He gave you two, maybe three more long, hard drags of his cock before he was spilling himself inside you with a breathy fuck leaving his lips in the process. 

You all but collapsed, your head falling on the pillows as you panted, Takeshi did the same. He dropped his face on your neck, eyes closed as he steadied his breath. He stayed there for some time, he couldn't hold himself up forever, but fuck this felt so nice. You underneath him, wrapped under his arms, nobody could hurt you here. His lips eventually found the side of your head for a chaste kiss before he moved to lay beside you. But the distance between you lasted a whole five seconds because he was pulling you to him. He positioned you to face him, one leg thrown over his torso as both of his arms caged you in. He would keep you here if he could. 

Silence ultimately drowned out your soft breaths, but not once did he stop looking at you. And you could tell something eating at him, weighing on his chest. You brought a hand to his face and you saw him close his eyes with a sigh. 

“I'm sorry I wasn't there.” He finally said, riddled with guilt and anger all over again. You frowned softly and shook your head at him. 

“Stop that, okay? It wasn't your fault.” You answered, smoothing out the soft frown above his eyebrows. He looked at you, watching as you brushed the loose strands of hair out of his eyes but he said nothing. “I'm a big girl, Takeshi. What I do or what messes I get myself into are not your fault. So stop. If I was mad at you I wouldn't let you rearrange my guts, would I?” 

Takeshi didn't laugh often. Or ever really. But sometimes your absurdity brought on a genuine chuckle out of him.

“Aw, so he has a sense of humor. He's not a robot!” You snorted, raising your voice like you were announcing it to the entire city. He rolled his eyes at you. 

“I don't fuck like a robot, do I?” There was a tiny shit eating grin on his face which made you shove his shoulder playfully. 

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up.” You kissed him with a soft laugh. 

~~~~~~~

Goddammit Takeshi Kovacs.

This man just simply couldn't wake up and stay in bed with you for one day. Just one fucking time, you asked. 

You groaned tiredly as you stretched out your sore muscles before sitting up. No tall angry looking envoy anywhere. How tragic. You were about to get out of bed when the door swung open. You were about to reach for your gun on the nightstand when you saw it was just Takeshi, and he looked rather amused. 

“You're awake.” He raised his eyebrows at you in surprise, expecting you to be passed out after the night you had, partly his doing. You looked at him with suspicion as he walked to the bed. “I have something for you.” 

“Is it a decapitated head?” You blinked at him, feigning innocence and he chuckled.

“No. Well I didn't bring it here anyway.” He shrugged as he handed you a red and blue switchblade. It looked kind of cool. You stared at it for a good few seconds before you looked up at him with confusion. 

“What's this?” 

“The owner of this.” He pointed at the brand new scar on your side. Your eyes widened with realization and your mouth fell open. 

“Takeshi—” 

“I don't want to hear you.” He cut you off before you could even yell at him for not letting it go. You frowned at him deeply. He sighed as he sat beside you. “They had it coming. They touched you. It's that simple.” 

You stared at him, and you wanted to force yourself to be angry at him, angry at him for not letting it go, angry at him for treating you like some damsel in distress who needed him to save her. But when you looked into his eyes you didn't see the hero's complex. Not at all. You saw a man who was looking at the only thing that mattered to him in this world. And he'd be damned if he ever let anyone take that away from him again. 

“Awe, baby, so you aren't so heartless after all.” Your smile was mocking on the outside, but deep down it was one of endearment.

“Fuck you.” 

You loved him. And even someone as heartless as him was capable of love, too.

[holylulusworld]

Rescue you - Flufftober 23

Summary: When your ex comes to town, Jax sees red.

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader

Characters: Clay Morrow, Wayne Unser, Harry "Opie" Winston, Juice Ortiz, Tig Trager

Warnings: angst, mentions of a past abusive relationship, protective Jax, angry Jax, light violence against the reader, implied character’s death, fluff, hurt & comfort, blood

A/N: I didn't name her ex. You can imagine any guy. I imagined Brock Rumlow because he's hot and a bad guy. 😳 I'm a visual writer and need to imagine a face.

Trope: Rescue romance

Idea by: @dawn-petrichor-world

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

The day you met Jax Teller changed your opinion about men.

Until then, you believed every man is like your ex. Angry, loud, and thoughtless.

Jax is different. He’s rough around the edges, strong, wild, and yes, dangerous. But with you, he’s gentle and kind. You never felt safer than in his arms.

In those fleeting moments, you can spend alone, he dreams of another life. A life without violence, and maybe, children running around the house.

Your boyfriend is not a man of many words. He shows you his feelings with soft touches and small gestures.

The tea he brews for you every morning before you must go to work. A soft kiss goodnight. Or the way he hugs you. All these small gestures tell you Jax Teller loves you.

You believe in him, and his love. Jax will never hurt you or leave you for some other girl. He promised to love and protect you for the rest of his life.

Today, you must believe in his love, and hang on. If only you can hang on and wait for Jax to find out what happened to you…

Four hours earlier, …

“Bye, have a great weekend,” you wave at your colleagues from the library. They return the gesture and wish you a great weekend too.

You yawn as you make your way toward your car. Only a few more minutes apart you from meeting up with your boyfriend.

“Look what I finally found.”

You freeze. That voice.

How you wished to never hear his voice again. You lived in a bubble for the better of two years. Your relationship with Jax is going steady, and your past is only a few burned pictures, and torn memories you refuse to talk about.

“No. You can’t be here,” you shake your head as you look at your ex. He smirks darkly at your reaction. Your hands tremble and your eyes sting with tears. “What a pity he didn’t pick you up today, huh? Every Friday night your fine boyfriend has something better today than bringing his girl home.”

“What do you want here? You can’t be here.” You take a step back, and another as your heart hammers in your chest. “Please just leave me alone.”

“I’m here to get my girl back,” he looks over your shoulder, checking if anyone is watching you. “I can’t just let you go, can I?”

“You had fling after fling,” you sneer when he tries to touch your cheek. Slapping his hand away you glare at him. “What do you really want?”

“I can’t have my girl run around with that bastard. Jax Teller, Y/N? Really?” He scoffs when you look around the area for help. “No one is coming for your aid, babe. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

“Fuck you!” Your head snaps to the left when his hand slaps your cheek hard. You gasp, and press your hand to your cheek, fighting the tears wanting to break free. If you cry now, he’ll know how scared you are.

He grabs your arm, tugging harshly. “You will come with me and shut your mouth. After I’m done with the chapter of the sons in this shitshow of a town, you can thank me by being very nice to me…”

Now, the clubhouse, …

“Where is she? What can you tell me?” Jax nervously runs his fingers through his hair. “Juice, you need to do your thing…trace her phone or shit.”

“Jax, you need to calm the fuck down,” Clay tries to calm Jax. One of them got kidnapped, an old lady. He’s furious and ready to rip anyone apart. “We will find your old lady.”

“She left the library four hours ago, Clay! Four fucking hours!” Jax kicks a chair out of his way. “If anyone touched one hair on her head, I’ll kill them…I’ll kill them all.”

“We talked to her colleagues and the owner of the shop across the street. Her colleagues didn’t see shit. Y/N left the library wished them a nice weekend and walked toward her car,” Tig grunts.

“Yeah, they didn’t even want to talk to us because you scared the shit out of them,” Opie bites back. “Anyways,” he clears his throat as he looks at Jax. Opie can see the fear in his friend’s eyes, and it breaks his heart a little. “The old geezer across the street said, that there was a guy and a girl. The guy hit the girl, and that was when he called the cops.”

“We checked the cameras from the stores nearby,” Unser tries to get Jax’s attention. “One of them captured the car of the bastard. We got a license plate and a name.”

“We’ve got a name?” Jax grabs Unser by his collar. “What are we waiting for then? You had a name for how long?”

“Twenty minutes, Jax,” the sheriff grunts. “I’m not an idiot, and I like the girl.”

“Who is he? Who dared to raise his hand against my girl?” Jax is out of it. He’s ready to rip the sheriff apart, limp by limp if he doesn’t get answers soon. “Tell me his name, UNSER!”

Unser yells your ex’s name, making Jax gasp. You told him about what happened with the man you dated before him. “We need to find them!”

“Jax, calm down! We are on it! Juice is on it,” Clay tries to calm your boyfriend down again.

“I try to hack her service provider to find out about her last location. Give me more time,” Juice tries his best to remain calm. He’s used to working under pressure. But these are exceptional circumstances. “Just one more minute…“

You try not to think about what will happen if Jax doesn’t find you. Your ex was taunting you over the last hours, telling you how much he will enjoy watching Jax despair when he finds your broken body.

Taking deep breaths, you try to remember all the times Jax told you how much he loves you, or how he asked you to go for a ride with him for the first time.

The silence is deafening, and worse than your ex yelling at you. It takes a toll on you, as it feels like seconds turn into hours.

You hide your face in the palms of your hands, silently crying as you fear that you’ll never see Jax again.

“Where is she?” someone yells loud enough for you to hear. “I’ll kill you!” Gunshots hit the wall, and you scream as one of the bullets breaks through the door and hits the wall next to you.

“Y/N! BABY! Where are you!” It’s Jax. Jax found you!

“HERE!” You scream his name. “I’M HERE!”

“BABY!”

The door flings open, revealing a beyond-worried Jax. His face is covered in bruises, and blood covers to his knuckles, but all you can think about is that he's here.

He tugs his gun away as you run toward him to throw yourself into his arms. “I knew you’ll find me…I just knew…” He breathes you in. "I knew it..."

“Did he hurt you? Did he touch you, baby?”

“No…I mean he hit me but…no…I…you’re here,” you cry into his chest. “You’re…here…”

"I told you," he kisses the crown of your hair, "I'll burn the world for you and kill anyone hurting my girl..."

Tags in reblog.

[thesoftestpunk]

Will you be mine?

Summary: your crush is starting to become something more

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 6.3k

A/N: This took for-fucking-ever, I'm sorry. I had a 5 month writers block

Warnings: Minors DNI!! If I find out you read this, I'm calling your mom. Lots of making out, dumb sex jokes, first time, smut, oral, piv sex, virgin!Eddie idk if I missed something lemme know. Also reader can honestly be read as plus size. I try to be inclusive.

Pt.1

When Eddie truly saw you for the first time, you were actually giving Dustin directions to the theater department, already late to swim practice, but you nodded along to his excited ramblings about joining Hellfire. You wished all three freshmen good luck and when you passed by Eddie, you smiled. Not even a half-assed, polite smile, but a full one. It’s so out of the ordinary for him that he just gawkes at you with wide eyes until your smile falters a fraction, and you move on. 

It’s been two years since you’ve moved into town, so he’s seen you around school before, but it’s the closest your worlds came to colliding, and in response to that, you smiled. Most people turned their noses up at the sight of him but the harder he thought about it, you never did. Not in two whole years. Even when his hair went through a terrible awkward phase. 

It set his curiosity in motion, unintentionally looking for you any chance he got. It was easiest in class, stuck in the back by choice, but that meant no one was looking at him looking at you. You sat with your friends any chance you got, devoted yourself to them, but anytime they made a snide comment, he saw you withdraw just the slightest bit, eyes drifting and frown deepening. Eddie never liked it when you frowned. In fact, anytime he could tell you were having a bad day, eyes burning with tears, he’d act like a fool in class. At first, you remained nonchalant, eyes drifting like they did with your friends, but the first time he got you to laugh, his heart felt too big for his chest. 

“Again?” Gareth teased when he caught Eddie drooling over you instead of the worksheet in front of him that only displayed the addition of his crooked name and nothing else. 

“I think I like her, man.” Eddie tries to keep his voice low. If anyone caught wind that he liked someone so high on the social ladder, he’d be eaten alive. The teasing over his hobbies he could take, but getting his heart caught on his sleeve and then stomped on made him nervous. 

“You should just ask her out.” Gareth says it so nonchalantly that Eddie can’t help but scoff.

“She’s friends with Christina Whitlock, wannabe cheerleader. She’s worse than Carver and his goons. I’m not going to put myself on the chopping block willingly.” 

“It’s either you ask her out or suffer in silence.” 

Eddie looks at you sitting in the front of the classroom, smiling at something you’ve been told, and his heart sinks a little. 

Then everything shifted after you sat next to him in English that day your friends seemed to be making fun of him about something. At first he thought you did it because you felt guilty, but when you seemed genuinely curious about his tattoos, he let his guard down. Which seemed to backfire pretty quickly. He had to endure hearing you say you didn’t like him, not once, but twice.

When he had lost all hope, you invited him to the pool. He almost didn't go, fully expecting you to turn him down politely, explaining that you were only being nice out of obligation, but none of that happened. When you had expressed your shared feelings for Eddie, he felt unadulterated joy. That was until he kissed you, and it seeped out of his skin, unable to be contained any further. Now, he got to walk hand in hand with you down the halls of the school, giving each other knowing looks when Tina stared the two of you down like she couldn’t believe you would have the audacity to hold hands. 

You always initiated the pda, and he shook off the nerves just to feel the soft skin of your palm against his. He kissed you in private, not wanting any chance of a moment ruined. But you can’t seem to get any privacy for anything more than making out. You’ve come close to the idea of more but that’s all it seems to be. An idea. It’s a lot of getting interrupted in your bed, Eddie’s hand just having slid underneath your underwear and one of you freezing at the sound of the front door. You always proceed to hiss out ‘shit. Someone’s home,’ before the two of you scramble to get decent and when, nine times out of ten, your mother checks on you, you pretend to be studying. 

Despite his -albeit joking- begging, you refuse the idea to do it in his van.

“I’m a bit of a romantic,” you argue. “So I don’t want our first time to be in the back of your smelly van.”

“Okay, it won’t be there.” He promises, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “It’ll be up front.”

You shove him off of you as he laughs maniacally, now beside you on your bed. Taking your childhood stuffed rabbit, you whack him in the shoulder playfully, and he catches it quickly. 

“How dare you use miss hoppity as a weapon!” He teases further. 

“Oh, you’re in for it now, Munson.” 

He screams dramatically when you roll over on him and attack his neck in rapid kisses, making him uncontrollably giggle. He had warned you he was ticklish in some parts, and you quickly learned where for your own personal enjoyment. 

“Uncle! Uncle!” He gasps out between bouts of laughter, even though he loved the feeling of your plush lips against his neck. His beautiful neck that left your mouth watering and legs clenching at the sheer thickness of it. Just more space to place kisses. There’s a moment when he’s calming and you’ve placed both hands on his stomach, neither worrying about your mother coming to check up on the commotion you just caused. You feel him harden underneath you, just like every time you get pulled onto his lap. He can’t help it. The way your legs spread just for him, and how your shoulders relax with ease gets him going. 

“What?” You whisper when he just continues to stare like you’ve told him he’s won the lottery. 

“I haven’t taken you on a proper date, have I?” As he asks, his smile turns downward at the sudden realization. 

“No, but I don’t mind.” You trace a finger from the back of his jaw to his chin and give a little pinch. “I like this time together. Just us.”

“Well, I’d be a terrible–” the words get caught in his throat as he almost says the big word. Boyfriend. Neither of you had broached the subject, and maybe that’s why he’s brought up the fact that he hasn’t taken you out. Whatever this relationship was, he was afraid he was going about everything in the wrong way. He should have taken you out before even kissing you, if any romantic driven book he’s read has told him. “-guy if I didn’t.”

“Okay,” you ignore his fumble, bumping your nose into his. “Take me out then.” You flatten your chest to him to feel the rumble of his victorious laughter, but then you remember where you are, and your bedroom door is open fully. “We need to get up before the guard does her rounds.”

You untangle yourself from him, giggling as he has to adjust himself if your mom actually does make an appearance. 

“This Friday, sweetheart. I’m picking you up at seven o’clock, sharp.”

“I look forward to it.”

***

Eddie says he would still rather not be seen at any school event, but he shows up to your swim practice, fulfilling his promise of being in the closest spot on the bleachers as he’s allowed. He drives you home from every practice, bragging about you to you. It’s selfishly endearing listening to the way he talks about how proud he is of you for how talented you are. The rest of the girls on the team didn’t understand his insistence on catching at least the last ten minutes. Usually he would be meeting with hellfire, but he would try and make it just to cheer you on, even if he was explicitly told not to by your coach. 

“He was here again today.” you hear Christina whisper to one of the girls. “I’m starting to think it’s not just for Y/N.”

“What do you mean?” She asks innocently.

“I mean… it’s kinda pervy, right?” 

“Ugh, totally.” Another agrees. 

A chill runs down your spine at the idea of that rumor spreading. Something in you snaps as you slam your locker door shut before turning to see their shocked faces. 

“Eddie is a gentleman,” you glare at Tina. “I don’t care that you all think I’m a freak too, now that I’m dating him, but you need to remember I’m co-captain. Keep his name out of your mouth, and if I hear any sort of disrespect about him, you’re doing drills until you puke.” 

“You’re only co-captain because you’re the coach's niece.” Christina crosses her arms defensively. 

“The only reason I’m not captain is because of nepotism. He didn’t want you whining all the time, but I work my ass off harder than anyone in this room. You could stand to be a little more humble, Tina, considering how slow you were today.” Your hands shake as everyone looks back and forth between you and Christina like they’re at a tennis match, just waiting for a full on cat fight to break out. “So, do you understand me?”

The locker room is silent as you stare down Christina, challenging her to retort back, but she actually looks flustered and nods. It has the others nodding along in a chorus of agreement. There’s no more chit chat as the girls rush to finish getting dressed. You’re one of the first few to leave, leftover anger and adrenaline making you stomp on your way out. That is until you see Eddie and feel your whole body relax. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says his usual greeting. 

Sudden tears burn your eyes as you rush forward to tackle him in a hug, causing him to stumble backwards a couple of steps. He chuckles, arm coming around your middle as he assumes you’re just that excited to see him. A sniffle gives you away immediately. 

“Hey,” he says softly, pulling away to look at you. His eyebrows draw together in concern as he looks you over, hands on either side of your face to inspect closely. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, yes, I just-“ you wipe your nose with your sleeve, feeling yourself get small. It’s the first time he’s seen you cry, and you don’t want to make him worry about why. “It’s stupid. Can you just take me home?”

“You can tell me.” His thumb moves back and forth over your cheek. 

“Eds,” you let out a wet laugh. “I’m fine.” To prove this, you give him a kiss. “Let’s just get out of here.”

“Alright,” he eyes you warily, and even the door to the locker room, but wraps an arm around your shoulder to walk out with you. 

You’re sour for the rest of the week, not even indulging in teasing Tina about your relationship publicly. Eddie knows you’re in a mood, but he has no idea why. He tries everything he can think of; jokes, the little kisses on your collar bones that make you smile, and more jokes, but you just seem lost in your own world. For a moment, he worries you’re tired of him already and the pressure of being seen with him has become too overwhelming, and for his own sanity, he does some digging. 

It takes bribing four different people. One offer to deal at a party sends him to  Andrew Rickman,  who gets some weed for a huge discount, to send Eddie to his girlfriend, Jessica Armstrong who finally sends him to Janice Freedman and a promise to pass along her phone number to Gareth, and he’s sure he’s figured it out. 

On Friday’s you swim on your own. Eddie knows to leave you be for an hour before entering the pool house to catch you just as you’re towel drying your hair. He doesn’t like wandering the halls to risk getting yelled at, so he waits in his van, blasting music while smoking a joint. 

“Have a good swim?” His arms wrap around your waist from behind, the smell of chlorine invading his nose. 

“Mmhm,” you hum, melting into his hold. You had pushed yourself to relieve the frustration because you didn’t want to ruin Eddie’s date plan. 

“Just ‘mmhm?’” He copied your tone, slowly placing kisses along your shoulder, and up toward your neck. 

“You know you’re not supposed to be in here.” You remind him, voice stern, but he knows there isn’t any anger behind it. 

“Got away with it last time didn’t I?” He spins you around by your hips, making you wonder what’s suddenly gotten him in this mood. Eddie captures your lips, pulling your body flush against his, and tips your head back to deepen the kiss. It leaves you breathless immediately with how desperate it feels. 

“Eddie,” you sigh when he breaks it to move to your neck once more. His ring covered hand slides up your side, cupping your breast and giving a squeeze. It’s a shame he didn’t show up sooner or he could’ve done this when you were wearing nothing but a towel. “Seriously? Here?” 

“No,” he snorts, trying to behave. “I’m a gentleman.” 

“Not with that poking me in the thigh.” 

Before he gets the chance to laugh, someone is clearing their throat, making the two of you jump apart. Tina looks to the side, looking more than embarrassed by the obvious bulge in Eddie’s pants, and your kiss stained lips. 

“T-Tina,” you step in front of Eddie for his sake. “What, uh, what are you doing here?” 

“I signed up for extra practice time.” For the first time, Tina seems small, almost afraid to admit she needed the extra time in the water. “Guys aren’t allowed in the girls locker room, Munson.” 

“I’ll wait outside.” Stiffly, he leans forward to give you a quick kiss on the cheek from behind before rushing out. 

“Sorry,” you apologize before she can berate you for it. “I thought we were alone.”

And strange enough, she doesn’t. 

“I used to sign up for the latest slot so Declan and I could be alone when we first started dating.” She opens up her locker in search of her suit. “Just don’t go making a habit of it. Coach nearly tore my head off. Can’t imagine what he’d do to his niece.” 

“Right,” you laugh sheepishly, but catch a glimpse of the Tina you became friends with two years ago. “Thanks.” 

“Don’t thank me yet.” She hardens once again. “You’re doing drills for getting caught.”

You sigh. Tough Tina was back. 

“Aye aye captain.” 

After you rush out, tail between your legs, you smack Eddie in the shoulder with the sleeve of your hoodie. He flinched back like it hurt, but the smile completely gave him away. 

“You dingus!” You try to keep your voice down, but the shrill tone still echoes around the building. 

“Ow!” He laughs more than he does whine. “I can’t appreciate you for sticking up for me?”

“What?” You stop winding up for another smack. 

“I heard what you did for me.” He wraps an arm around your back, pulling you close so he has to speak quietly. “No one’s ever stuck for me like that before.” 

“Well, I- I was just being honest…” your cheeks burn at the way he looks down at you, one corner of his lips tugging up. 

“Mm, well, I find your honesty extremely hot.” 

“We can not get caught by Tina again.” As much as you wanted to reciprocate his appreciation, you weren’t looking forward to extra punishment for making her endure another shared kiss between you and eddie. “You need to take me home so I can get ready for our date.”

“What’re you gonna wear?” 

“Only if you tell me where we’re going but it’s—“

“A surprise,” he finishes for you.

***

Eddie shows up at your door on time for once. He isn’t allowed to pick you up for school, or else you’d be chronically late for first period. He had told you to dress casual, but you can’t help but grab your short tan pleated skirt to match your white shirt with extended shoulders and a jean fabric vest. (A jest if you will). To top it all off, you wear your favorite beat up sneakers and ankle socks scrunched down. When you hear the knock, your heart skips a beat and you take down the hall, shouting at your parents that you’ll get the door. Your dad beats you to it on purpose, but he’s already met Eddie. They were uncertain at first, but Eddie was polite and followed your house rules. To an extent. It was all a front, and you knew it killed him just a little, but he also knew if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to date you. 

He takes you to a local restaurant, nothing fancy, but also not cheap. you love it either way. It never really mattered what the two of you did together, as long as you were doing it together. He’s a bit quiet as you eat, eyes scanning the room, but after you get him to loosen up, he acts like he owns the place. He leans back in his seat, arm thrown over the back as he heavily flirts with you, not even wondering if the other patrons are staring or not.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles while fumbling with the crumbled bills when he pays. You know he doesn’t have a traditional job, selling drugs to help his uncle with expenses, and it makes you wonder how much extra he had to sell just to take you here. There’s a pause as he calculates if there’s enough for a tip before slapping the money down and smiling at you to wave off your worry. 

“Eddie?” You gently take his hand after he’s pulled out of the parking lot. “Did you- you know you didn’t have to take me somewhere that nice, right? I would’ve been fine if you made me, like, chef boyardee at your trailer.”

“I gotta make my girl feel special sometimes, right?” He flashes you that confident smile and brings your hand up to place a kiss on your knuckles. There’s a tug in your stomach when he calls you ‘my girl’ and you bite your bottom lip to stave off your sheepish grin. “Plus, the night’s not over yet. I got one more thing for you.”

You aren’t sure what to expect, but when he pulls up in front of his trailer, you feel a bit of a relief. Not because you don’t like being out in public with Eddie, you do, but you constantly worry about someone making a rude comment his way and upsetting him. In the time you’ve known him, though, the insults seem to roll off his back pretty easily, and you’re unsure how he does it. Every insult repeats in your mind for hours after. 

“Give me five minutes.” Eddie leans over to give you a quick kiss on the lips. 

“What, gotta hide all your cum socks before I go in?”

“I’ve got some class.” Eddie’s breath tickles your lips as he doesn’t lean back just yet. “I washed them yesterday.” 

As he gets out of the van, you laugh to yourself, even when he’s unlocking the door and disappearing inside. You stay inside the vehicle, only unbuckling your seatbelt and glance outside the window. The openness of the area combined with how dark it is leaves you a little unsettled. It’s eerily quiet, and you can tell even with the windows rolled up. A lone cricket and distant barking seems to be the only noise going on around. Turning by your torso, you see there isn’t much to the back of his van, bits of carpet pulling up here and there along the seams, a guitar case covered in stickers similar to what’s on his jackets, and ashtrays with cigarette butts and half smoked joints. There’s a rug thrown in the middle, probably to cover a stain or his attempt to class things up. A sharp knock startled you out of observing the burnt orange and red curves and sharp corners. 

“You okay there?” Eddie teases after opening the passenger door for you. 

“It’s scary as shit out here.” You take his outstretched hand and hop out of the van. “It’s way too quiet.”

“Let me lead you to safety, princess.”

Inside, the trailer is lit by the dim lamp in the corner of the living area, but mostly by the scattered candles along random surfaces leading toward his bedroom. The low lighting flickers off the reflection in the mugs lined along the shelves, and shadows dancing along the walls. Eddie leads you down the short hallway before you can even comment on his romantic decor. You’ve gotten a peek of his bedroom in past visits, but the two of you usually would hang out on the couch, so you know he’s tidied it up for you. There’s still plenty of clutter along his dresser and desk, but his floor is clean from any clothes or trash strewn about. 

He stops you at the end of his bed, your calves brushing against the sheets hanging over the side. Slowly, he brings up your hand to place a kiss on the back of your palm, causing you to shudder. A smile grows on his face and you can see it despite your hand being in the way. He lets go to drag the vest off of your shoulders and when it registers in your mind that he wants it off, you move with him, his face getting close to yours when he has to help your fumbling hands through the holes. You’ve been kissed by him a dozen times but when he dips his chin up to connect your lips, your skin burns in a want you’ve never felt before, as if he’s kissing you for the first time. You both move in sync, dipping down onto the bed, and not breaking contact until he’s hovering over you, delight making his features glow, but you can see the small bit of insecurity in his eyes while he seems to gather up his nerves. 

“Will you be mine?” It’s quiet, intimate, barely above a whisper, but leaves his voice graveling deep enough to send a jolt up your spine. “My girl? Each second with you…” he trails off, shaking his head as his lips split into a grin. “It’s a piece of gold, sweetheart. I want you to be mine.” 

“I-“ you huff out a laugh, his bangs moving with the small gust of air. “I thought I already was. Have been since you kissed me.” 

If his grin could get any bigger, it just did, and his body relaxes, his weight heavier on top of you. The next kiss he gives you is all teeth and tongue, before he calms and kisses you proper. Kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before, his lips and the gentle swipe of his tongue erasing all the others that came before. Your giggle is muffled into his mouth, trying to pull him closer than he already was, but there wasn’t any room left. If you could find it within yourself to let go of his shirt, he could be pressed firmly against you, but then you would just want his shirt off, skin to skin, only for that to still not be enough. 

A small moan from you escapes into his mouth when he grinds his hips down into yours, butterflies erupting in your stomach as he does so. His large hands slide up your hips, your shirt coming up with them, and up your ribs until he’s exposed your chest. You hadn’t even bothered with a bra, not entirely expecting the night to go this far. His eyes widen at the surprise, and his cheeks go pink like he’s never had the pleasure of being inches from any pair of tits. Especially a pair like yours, beautiful and on display just for him. His mouth wraps around your right nipple, his teeth sinking into the perked up flesh, and a pained squeak falls past your lips, the sharp sting only working you up more. As an apology, he releases your nipple to swipe his tongue over it in circles, while his other hand cups your other breast, giving it a perfect squeeze. His lips move down, alternating between kisses and biting the soft flesh of your stomach until he’s positioned between your thighs. Looking up, as if asking permission, to which you nod vigorously in agreement, his hands wrap around your legs to rest them on the top of your thighs, fingers digging into the meat as he kisses the inside of your thighs. You can’t help but squirm when he pushes up the fabric of your skirt with his left hand, the one with all the chunky rings, and leaves it there to rest and places one single kiss on your clothed pussy. 

A broken whimper from you gets him into motion, removing his hand from the thigh for a brief moment, moving your panties to the side and licking up you slowly. Eager, he burrows down, his tongue swirling around your clit, nose pressed against your pubic bone, not minding the scratch of the coarse hair. In desperation to hold onto something to steady your uncontrollable squirming and maybe to just find a grip of reality while your mind floats into a high, your hand falls on his that kneads the flesh of your stomach. The lumpy metal digs into your palm, the pain bringing you further back to reality. His mouth, his hands, his heat leaves you for a moment, looking up to the panting mess that you are, and you whine at the lack of touch. One by one, Eddie removes the large jewelry while maintaining eye contact and tosses them to the side before slowly laying back down on his stomach. Slowly his eyes land on your drenched pussy, and you’d feel uncomfortable if it weren’t for the hunger in his eyes. 

“Wait,” you breathe out. Removing the spare scrunchie from your wrist, you sit up to gather all of his hair quickly, apologizing when your fingers get tangled in the curls, and put it all into a messy bun. You don’t even get to soak up the image of his hair being held by something of yours before he’s gently laying you back down, and his mouth returns to his previous work.

His heavy hands hold your already trembling thighs apart. A hesitant finger hovers near your wet entrance, sliding in slowly. You sigh in relief until he experimentally strokes your core, breath caught in your throat and back arching slightly off the bed. Pleading words, begging breaths, you want for more of his hefty fingers inside you, stretching you out for what you expect to be more later. He complies easy, tongue and fingers moving in sync faster, enjoying every moan that falls past your lips. His name is whined out on repeat, each one raising in tone and intensity along with the pressure in your stomach. He laps up the mess you make as you clench around his fingers and fall over the edge for the first, but not final, time of the night. Soft kisses with the intention of being soothing are scattered along your thighs and stomach as his soaked fingers rub your overstimulated clit, letting you catch your breath as you ride the high just a moment longer.

“Fuck,” you huff, a dazed smile following. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

Eddie moves so he’s hovering over you, chin glistening with his work. “Fantasy novels.”

“No, seriously.” With your thumb, you wipe the wetness off of his chin for him. There’s a beat of silence and you realize he isn’t joking. “Wait, seriously?”

“Well… yeah.” 

You sit both of you up, scooting up his mattress until your back touches the wall. There’s the pull of rejection in his chest the further you move away, the absence of your touch and the distance between the two of you sends a message that you don’t want to go further anymore. 

“But you-” you pause, adjusting your shirt so it isn’t exposing your chest. “You… you’re you.”

“That’s the problem, apparently.” The defeat in his voice makes you wince in regret. 

“No, I mean… you’re in a metal band and-” you almost don’t say it. “And I’ve heard… y’know.”

“That I’ll give a discount for putting out?” Amusement flickers in his eyes at that particular rumor. “Okay, I let one girl give me a handy, but that’s it. I’m a massive virgin otherwise.”

“Oh.” Your voice is small, going quiet so you can process what he’s told you. “Well, if you aren’t comfortable we don’t have to.”

“I set up the place for that purpose.” your stomach twists at the image of him excitedly getting ready, lighting the candles to set the mood all with the cute little smile he gets. “Unless you…”

“I’m not.” You almost feel bad for admitting it, but you didn’t regret losing your virginity to someone else. He didn’t seem jealous, just understanding. “And I wouldn’t mind.”

Eddie’s smile grows. “Good ‘cause I bought an entire box of condoms.” Leaning over, he pulls out the comically large box from his bedside table. 

“Were you expecting a sex marathon?” You gawk. 

“That’d be ideal.” 

You shut him up by swiftly removing your shirt and tossing it in his face. He’s quick to pull it off and toss it to the side, but you’re quicker in moving forward, hands falling on his shoulders and pushing him down so he’s on his back. If his hair were loose, you’d be distracted by the halo it created around his bed, but it isn’t. Instead it’s already fighting the scrunchie, his bangs falling down in sparse strands, making him look more innocent than he ever has. Crawling into his lap, you take care in placing yourself directly on his growing hard-on. His hands slide up your thighs to your waist, gripping tightly while you run yours up the entirety of his torso. A couple tugs on the fabric is your way of asking him to sit up enough so you can take it off. Immediately, your eyes land on the one tattoo you haven't had the pleasure of looking at for longer than a few seconds, and slowly you take in the small patch of hair in the middle of his chest. What gets your mouth watering is the thicker patch leading down underneath his jeans. On his back, you can see the peaks of his hip bones leading down to the short valley to his happy trail.

You drag your nails over the thicker patch of hair, smiling to yourself at his sharp intake of air, the upward tilt of his chin from your peripheral, working him up to squirm just as much as you had. He’s a whimpering mess while you only touch him anywhere besides the one place he wants. Desperate, he moves your hips for you, begging for any amount of friction. Almost defiantly, you scoot back, sitting on his thighs instead, and he huffs indignantly. You smirk, bite your bottom lip to keep from smiling fully at his pouting.

“Please,” he begs breathless, hips jutting into the air despite no available pressure from your weight. 

Giving in, you unbutton his jeans, finding the way they pop open satisfying, and tug slowly on his zipper. You can perfectly see the outline of his dick through his tight boxer briefs. You want to take your time, slowly pull his jeans off first and then his underwear, but that flies out of the window when you see just how girthy he is. You don’t undress him in any manner, running the palm of your hand up his length, a long moan filling the room. Leaning down, you kiss his stomach, his muscles jolting in surprise. You slip your hand past the waistband, fingertips brushing against the tip, already dripping at your light touch. Experimentally, you give a light squeeze when you’ve wrapped your hand fully around him. Using his pre-cum as aid, you start slow, his moans coming from deep in his chest. Slowly, you start increasing your speed, dropping kisses along his skin when he seems to get too quiet. 

“Baby, you gotta stop,” Eddie pants. You pull away completely, confusion and hurt covering your features. “No, no,” he takes your face between his hands. “I’m just gonna explode if you keep touching me like that, and I’m not quite finished with you yet.” 

You pause, blink once as heated shock covers your body over the realization. You almost made him cum too fast. Pride fills your chest, and you aren’t sure if it’s a bad feeling to have, but he returns your sheepish smile by grabbing a condom from the box. With fascination, you watch him as he rolls it on, not having had the luxury of witnessing this part. It was too dark or too quick before. There’s a bit of a struggle and you reach out to help but stop yourself, not wanting to take over. 

“Got it,” he smiles. 

“And you’re sure you want to…?” You aren’t afraid, but this is new to him. You don’t want him to be afraid. Everything should be perfect, though you know nothing ever is. 

“Do you?”

“Of course, Ed’s.” Running a hand down his chest to his stomach, to land on his strained cock, you give a reassuring smile. Before you climb back in his lap, he helps you out of your underwear, watching the way you smoothly throw a leg over him and line yourself up expertly without even looking. Raising your brows to wordlessly ask one more time, he answers by resting his hands on your hips, eyes never leaving yours. As you sink slowly down, there’s the familiar burning stretch that causes you to whimper, even more by his girth, but it’s all covered up by his moans. You bottom out, wiggling experimentally while he adjusts to the feeling.

And then you start moving your hips.

Slow at first, grinding your pussy into him, his head falling back onto the mattress and eyes squeezing shut. If he had any nails, they’d be digging into your skin, leaving crescents behind to remind you of this moment later, but his fingers are dull, pushing and pulling you into a perfect rhythm. Leaning down, you press kisses and soft bites onto his neck, your tits flat against his chest and moving with every desperate thrust he gives into you. You support yourself by your forearms, stopping your movements and letting him fuck himself into you. He’s a beautiful flustered mess when you look at him. He opens his eyes just a sliver to catch your smile. 

“Feel good?” You ask, voice soft.

“Mm-hm.” He can’t even speak, brows furrowed together roughly. “‘M gonna—“

“Go ahead.” You place a kiss on his pulse point, swallowing your moans as he thrusts harder, hitting your g-spot. His arms wrap around your waist holding you still, his hips becoming more erratic. “C’mon baby,” you coo. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out, giving a few good thrusts before his hips stutter. You give him a moment to catch his breath, the only sound in the room being his panting. 

Leaning back, you smother his face in kisses, feeling his laughter vibrate underneath your chest. 

“Hey,” you say semi-serious, his soft eyes meeting yours. “You did great.”

“I sure hope so.” He finally slides out of you and you whine in indignation, missing the feeling of him already. 

“You did.” You insist. 

There’s this moment where he almost looks like he believes you and you get this warm mushy feeling in your chest at the realization that you’ve had your first time together. Not in the back of his van but in a lovingly decorated trailer with zero chances of being interrupted. To top it all off, you’re also officially his girlfriend. 

“Sweetheart?” He breaks you out of your revere. “Kinda need you off of me to get this thing off.”

“And then we cuddle.”

He smiles. “And then we cuddle.” 

Rolling onto your back, you realize you’ve still got your skirt on, laughing to yourself as you take it off. You look around and find a shirt, unsure of whose it could be, and slip it on, watching Eddie walk out of the room despite promising to get back in bed. A moment later, he returns with a damp rag, gently spreading your legs and cleaning you up the best he knows how.

“I got it, thank you.” You take it from him gently, getting the spots he couldn’t and hand it back. He immediately tosses it behind his shoulder, hoping it lands in his laundry basket. “Eddie, gross.” 

“No time, my dear.” He crawls in right behind you, pulling his comforter over the both of you so you don’t end up cold. His nose nuzzles into the back of your neck, lips leaving soft kisses on the top of your spine. 

“I can’t sleep over,” you remind him, eyelids already feeling heavy.

“I know.”

“My dad wants me back before midnight.”

“I know.”

A hand snakes over your side, wrapping around your middle to pull you flush into his chest. He breathes you in, the smell of your honey shampoo tingling his senses. 

“Eddie?” 

“Hm?” He sounds sleepy and you know you’re in trouble. 

“We can officially do it in your van, now.”

“Finally,” he teases. 

Tag list: @hesvoid3434 @jane-ways @akiratoro420 @ali-r3n @stupid-infinity (there were a couple of you it wouldn't let me tag, sorry <;3)

[skylarsblue]

✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes✦

(Bros I'm so sorry, I've had the biggest fucking writer's block. I'm hoping some silly lil meme posts will make up for it until I can write something substantial, I'msosorry-)

Y/N: Some of us, I don’t wanna name names, give me a headache when they speak and its- Soap: Is it me?? Y/N: No. Graves: Is it me? Y/N: …it’s not Soap- --

Price: I’m gonna make you a soup. Gaz, delirious with the flu: I don’t wanna be a soup, Captain… Price: …right, how about I give you soup instead? Gaz: That’d be nicer. Price: Right. --

Soap: What the fuck knuckles is this? Valeria: *holding her hyper femme gf in her lap* She’s my girlfriend you intolerant shit. Soap: Whoa! Pump the hate brakes Fox & friends. I’m just surprised anyone would date you. Especially Pinkie Pie from My Little Pony. Y/N, on Valeria’s lap: You know that cartoon? Soap: No comment. Ghost: No, I think you should comment more, Johnny. Soap: NO. COMMENT. Moving on! Gaz: We’re gonna circle back to that. --

Graves: I think the term you’re searching for is ‘current captain’. Ghost: The words I’m searching for, I can’t say. Because there’s a rookie *motions to Soap* present. Soap: No no, say it. I can handle it. Ghost: You sure? Soap: Absolutely, L.T. Ghost: *looks at Graves* Fucking donkey lookin’ muppet bitch. Soap: Brutal blow, sir. Well done. --

Y/N: *comes in* Hey, Gaz, how old is your captain? Gaz: What? Y/N: No not like that…it is, it is like that. How old is he? I came into base, he asked if I needed anything to eat. I said ‘eat what’? Gaz: Okay, first of all, put my plate down and stop hitting on my captain! Y/N: Don’t get mad at me! I don’t even wanna be here. Y’all the ones that want me to be here. --

NPC: Ohhh if I weren’t a lady, I’d deck you! Fem!Y/N: Oh please. Try it and I’d have you on your back so fast you’d think you’re on a date. Ghost: *spits tea* Price, covered in tea: That was so unnecessary- --

Ghost: Mmph. Y/N: Dark room, avoidant, you seem tired despite sleeping for awhile…you wanna try and get out in the sun or do you just need to be in the sadness dungeon? Ghost: *holds up two fingers* Y/N: Would you like some tea for the sadness dungeon? Ghost: …Mhm. Y/N: Tea for the sad dragon coming up! Ghost: Mmph. (Aka “thank you”) Y/N: No problem! --

Y/N: Ya know sometimes there’s times in life where you just have to sit back and go, “ya know what? I’m proud of myself.” Gaz: Is this one of those times? Y/N: No- Soap: *wheeze* --

(Shibari reference)

Price: …alright, when I said we needed to restrain him in a way that ensured he couldn’t get out. This is not- Gaz: These are not military knots. Y/N: No, they aren’t. You all suggested knots that he would know how to get out of. You told me to get rid of that possibility. So, I did. Soap: He is tied…to the ceiling. Ghost: You kinky bitch. Y/N: *shrug* Price: Where did you even learn this? Y/N: That is for me and my daddy issues to know, sir. Don’t worry about it. Just wake him up so we can start interrogating him.

-

Graves: We can rule the world! Ghost: *turns to leave* Graves:: *watches him pull out something of Y/N’s* Graves: WH-YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO FUCK MY WIFE Graves: GHOST. G H O S T Ghost: *leaves* --

Graves: Let me log into Twitter- WAIT, IS THAT GHOST’S DICK!?! Ghost: I fucked your wife. Graves: AGGHHHHHH- --

Medic!Y/N: Don’t torture yourself Ghost. *snips bandage* Medic!Y/N: That’s my job.~ Ghost, internally: Stayfocusedwecannot- --

Price: We’re you listening to me at all? Y/N: No I was fantasizing about beard burn. Price: Pardon? Y/N: Huh? --

Ghost: He died of natural causes. Gaz: You pushed him off the roof. Ghost: Gravity is natural. --

Y/N: Nuh Uh, no. I’m not doing it. I have self respect, and I will not stoop so low as to- Gaz: *brings out 100£.* Y/N: -oooooo*takes money* I’ll have it done in an hour. --

Soap, looking at Konig: That man is a tree. Y/N: Then I'm a fucking squirrel. Soap: On the hunt for nuts then? Y/N: Famished for them. Ghost: Why do I sit with you two...

[littlexscarletxwitch]

Hi, would you be able to do a mutual pining yelena x avenger!reader kinda thing where yelena has been ignoring reader because she doesn’t know to how to deal with her feelings and when reader confronts her, yelena admits that she likes her? Mainly angst with fluff at the end if possible. Love your fics!!

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗶 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂

paring: yelena belova x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, some angst, mutual pinning, nat being the big sis

warning(s): yel having a hard time admitting her feelings, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 1.8k

note: Soooooo sorry it took me soooo long to post this. I FUCKING LOVED THIS REQUEST btw. Also guys, it's taking me so long to post fic because a) my laptop is just a bitch and won't work, and b) I guess I'm going through a writer's block and it's kinda hard to find the motivation to write. But I'll try my best. Lots of love, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

Your legs were sore, you couldn't feel your arms anymore and you were gasping for air, but it wasn’t over until one of you was down.

“Can’t we take a break?” you whined out as you tried dodging Yelena’s fist but still made contact with your body and you groaned out in pain. 

“Focus, Y/n,” Steve called out, before Yelena would punch again. 

You knew she was holding back, measuring her strength, she always would when training with you. And you didn’t know if you found that reassuring or mocking. You kicked her in the stomach, but it still did not affect her, it was quite the opposite really. 

“That’s all you got?”

“Why? Wanna try something else?” you teasingly said while winking at her. 

You got her off guard, she wasn’t expecting your cocky self to show up while training, and seized the moment to swift her off her feet and got on top of her. 

“Was this what you had in mind?”

Your hands quickly found her wrists while your body pressed into her abdomen pushing her down so she wouldn’t get out of your hold. 

“Okay, I think it’s enough,” Steve called out, sensing you had gone off track. 

Both you and Yelena knew that she could easily get out of your hold, but still it took her two minutes to do so. You didn’t want to let her go that easily, you felt your whole body burning just by the thought of her skin against yours, still you stood up and got on moving before the two of you could have a say on what just had happened. 

That was how it always went with Yelena, one moment you had the courage to openly flirt with her and a second later you would run back to your dorm second guessing the whole interaction. You wanted to do more, each and every time, but she was so nonchalant about you flirting with her that you convinced yourself that it was just that, a flirty friendship. 

And most of the time you were okay with it, playing dumb about your own feelings. But then shit like that would happen, you would brush her skin, or would make her laugh, or just look at her, and the thought of a friendship would fly out of your mind. That was why you would lock up in your room, trying to calm and persuade yourself to not let your stupid feelings get in the way. 

And the same stupid thing would happen to Yelena, which you didn’t know about. 

“You want to talk about it?” Yelena heard her sister's voice as she watched you heading out the training room. 

“I wasn’t holding back, I swear.”

“Not about your punching,” she raised her brow at her little sister. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Yelena shrugged it off as she grabbed her bottle of water and took a big sip. 

“Lena, I know you,” Natasha took advantage of the fact that her sister was chugging down water. “I know we don’t do feelings, we don’t trust people. But that was the old us, that was the red room. We have to put that shitty part of our lives behind us for good.”

“And I have,” Yelena scoffed. 

“Then why haven't you done something about it?” Yelena knew her sister meant you, she didn’t have to clarify. “At least, give it a go,” Natasha sighed. “If not for you, then for her.”

“She doesn’t—.”

“You never know, Lena. Neither will she, if you don’t tell her,” and with that Natasha left her sister to her own thoughts.

“Suka,” she mumbled under her breath, because Natasha was right. She was always right about everything, it was the power that came with being a big sister—her big sister—, and she hated it when she was right. 

She knew she had to do something about it, about you. But the fear of rejection, of feeling unwanted felt too much to bear. She wasn’t going to open up her heart just for someone else to crush it. But maybe, just maybe she could trust you not to crush it. 

[...]

Still, it was easier said than done. It took her a full week to finally come to the conclusion that she was, actually, madly in love with you. A week full of stress and anxiety because deep down she felt like she didn’t deserve to have these feelings towards you. 

And now that she knew exactly how she felt about you, it fucking terrified her. So she did what she thought was best and put some space in between the two of you. The thought of you clouded her brain and it was starting to affect her line of work, and she couldn’t have that. Being part of the avengers gave her life meaning, and she was not going to let her stupid feelings ruin that for her. Even though she wanted to be close to you, and just melt into your arms.

Of course, her coldness didn’t go unnoticed by you. You were confused, though. It wasn’t like Yelena to just shut you out. Even though you wanted more than just a friendship out of her, you wanted to consider yourself a friend of hers and it hurt that she was just avoiding you. 

You didn’t know what was going on, she just felt out of your reach. You asked her sister about it, she just told you to give her space and she would be okay, before muttering something under her breath and went on with her day. You asked Kate and she just completely avoided the topic and changed the subject.

The more she didn’t talk to you, not even glance at your direction, the more you felt like you had done something wrong, maybe she had found out about your feelings and now she was avoiding you because of them. She probably felt uncomfortable about them, she probably wanted nothing to do with you. And who were you to decide otherwise?

You talked to Steve, making sure to not have more training lessons with her, only to find out she had already asked the same thing. You knew it was stupid to feel as if your heart was breaking since you wanted the same thing, but it did feel like shattering to pieces. You just nodded, a tight smile finding its way to your lips and went to your room before shedding any tears. 

This whole thing was bullshit. Yes, maybe she didn’t feel the same way you did about her. But the both of you were full grown-ups, you should be professional about it and act like nothing had happened. Because in reality it didn’t, not that you were aware of it. So you decided that you were going to give her a piece of your mind. 

You searched for her throughout the entire building and finally found her in the training room. Of course she was there, you should have thought of coming there earlier. 

For a trained assassin she didn’t notice your presence, too caught up in her own mind, focusing on her breathing and throwing punches at the boxing bag. 

You cleared your throat. “Got a minute?”

She looked over her shoulder, finally acknowledging you there, and you swore you watched as her whole body just tensed up by the sound of your voice. 

“I’m kinda busy right now,” she mumbled before throwing two more punches. 

“It won’t take long,” you insisted, wanting to get this over with. 

“Look, I really need to—.”

You cut her off. “I don’t know who told you or how you found out, but yes, it’s true, okay?” you finally got her attention. “I just thought you would be professional enough to not let this get in the way and pretend like nothing happened. Which is what I also wish for.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You avoiding me,” you quickly mumbled, a tint of concussion in your tone. “I get it, but let’s just put this behind us and act like propper adults.”

“No, I’m aware of that part,” she scoffed, embarrassed to admit to you what she had been up to. “What I mean is, what have I found out?”

Your brows furrowed. “About my… me… and you,” you gave yourself a second to think her words through. “Hold on a second, you don’t know?” 

“What don’t I know?”

“You don’t,” you finally added two plus two and realised that Yelena had no recollection whatsoever about your feelings, but still something was off. “Why have you been avoiding me then?”

You watched her as her mouth opened and closed, searching for the right words. 

“What did I ever do to you for you to completely avoid me, huh?”

“You did nothing, I just…”

“You just what?” you scoffed, now anger filling your tone. “You just decided it was fun to ignore me?”

“No! God, no.”

“Then what is it?!” the two of you were pretty much screaming at each other. 

“Because I like you, damn it!” she finally confessed. “Is it so hard to see?”

Your eyes winded. “You like me? You have been avoiding me because you like me?”

“I know, not my brightest moment. But it's just that you… you just…” she gestured to her brain. “You’re just stuck here, and I can’t get you out. At first I was scared to admit my own feelings to myself,” she took a deep breath. “But then Tasha said something and it made me realise that there’s nothing wrong with having feelings. But then I had to admit to myself that I really fucking like you. And I just… I just got scared because you might not feel the same way, and you might just push me away,” another deep breath. “And I decided that I would push you away first… and so I did.”

“So you like me.”

“Yes,” her brows furrowed.  “Was that all you got?”

“I mean… it’s the part that matters most,” you grinned at her. 

“What do you mean?”

“I really fucking like you too,” you said cupping her cheeks. “I thought you knew and that was why you were avoiding me. But now I get it, I make you nervous,” you said teasingly. 

“I wouldn’t use that word…” you rolled your eyes before shutting her off with your lips, finally giving in and kissing her. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now,” you whispered over her lips as you deepened the kiss. 

Her lips were soft and rough, and they had some saltiness to them due to her being all sweaty. But you didn’t mind at all, in fact you really like it. 

“Remember last time we were here?” you whispered in her ear, trailing a path of kiss down her jaw and neck. 

“You mean… that time we last trained?” she sounded breathlessly and it sent a shiver down your whole body. 

“If I remember correctly, which I know I do…” you gently bit her skin earning a hiss out of her lips. “You were on the grown and I was on top of you, remember?”

“Yes…” she said as her fingers ran through your hair. 

“Want to pick up where we left it off?”

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

[neesieiumz]

𓆩☆𓆪 | 𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙻𝙰𝚆 ⸺ ⚞𝚁𝙴𝙸𝙽𝙴𝚁 𝙱𝚁𝙰𝚄𝙽 ⚟

⸻ synopsis ⫸〖 it's not every day a criminal breaks into your home, huh?〗

⸻ warnings ⫸ sm*t. 18+ wild west!au. part i of the gold rush anthology! bar-maid!reader. robber!reiner. black-coded reader. female reader. afab anatomy. p*rn with plot. full nelson position. fingering. a bit of dacryphilia. reiner threatens reader with a gun. the two of them get comfortable with each other really quick. reader calls her mother a bitch in this. reader was raised by her late grandmother cause her mother abandoned her. Erwin is in this, who was also raised by reader's grandmother. sheriff!erwin. erwin sees reader as a niece/daughter. annie and bertholdt are also in this, but they don't matter.

⸻ writers note ⫸ this has been sitting in my drafts for the past two months because I wanted to finish the next part of the anthology. I just finished the Erwin one, so I'll upload it when I'm halfway done with the Eren one or fully complete it.

⸻ word count ⫸ 5.7k

masterlist. | next part in the anthology |

Heavy boots sunk into the mud, and loud voices called out to the dark forests. The sounds of horses neighing, catching up against his hunched-over form. He ran as fast as he could, dodging the trees and branches, boots snapping the sticks and stones within the wet ground. Hand clutching the bleeding wound, he glanced around, looking for something, anything to get him out of this situation. His partners were long gone, taken into arrest by the law. They told him to run, to get out while they distracted them. 

He tried his best to blink away the tears, the sudden burn possibly due to them being mixed with the sweat dripping down his face. He’ll get the rest of them out, he resolved, he first has to survive this. Glancing up and around, a large shadow was right up ahead. Squinting, the blur came into focus, before revealing a small home. It was well kept, but all the lights were out, which was all Reiner needed. He jumped the fence, flinching at the sudden stab of pain in his abdomen. He limped towards the back door, pulling out his old trust lock pick before jimmying with the lock. He hissed out a yes as the door creaked open, before hobbling right inside. Gasping, he leaned against the door, hearing the sounds of the law running by. 

“What the…”

A voice called out, before suddenly, a dark glow illuminated the room, revealing a decently sized kitchen. A gasp rang out, as Reiner looked to the light, seeing someone standing there. 

Fuck…

He pushed himself up to his feet, immediately running over to you, who immediately screamed before running away, possibly to your bedroom. Despite his injury, he had just enough adrenaline to catch you, pulling your arm back. He muffled your screams with his hand, wrapping you in one big hold as he dragged you away from the hall, before taking you right back to the kitchen. He could hear your muffled whimpers against him, the feeling of your body shaking against him. 

He pressed his lips against your ears, “just stay quiet for me darling, and all will be right.” 

Reiner pressed himself against the counter, waiting for the sounds to go away. As he did so, he could hear your own sounds beginning to quest, however, the feeling of wet salty tears began to soak his hand. Just as they were beginning to go away, a sudden loud knock came out the door, jilting the both of you. 

“Y/n, it’s Erwin, are you awake?!”

Reiner cursed under his breath, heart pounding away at his chest. He stepped away from the counter before looking at the door, seeing a tall figure standing right at the door. He then looked back down at you, before telling you not to scream. Slowly he let go of your mouth, removing his hand from you before grabbing the top of your dress, wiping away the slowly drying tears on your face. 

“You gon answer that there door, and pretend like I’m not here. Say whatever you gotta say, alright…?”

You nodded your head quickly, and he nodded his own, before taking you by the hand and draggin you over to the door. He stood at the side, one hand still pressing against the wound while the other, pulling out his revolver, holding it up. You glanced over at him, seeing him nod his head. Taking a deep breath, you reach over, unlocking the door with the key still stuck on the knob before opening it up just a little bit, enough to see the sheriff of your town. Erwin Smith, a man both you and many people in this town respected. He was very close to your family, especially your grandmother, having helped her many times while she was still alive. So seeing him and talking to him was an easy occurrence for you.

“Hello there Erwin,” you let off a smile, hoping it wasn't wavering too much.

He let off his own warm smile, “hey there cherie, hope everything’s okay?”

You nodded your head, “everything’s fine, was just about to head to sleep when you knocked.”

For kickers, you looked behind him, seeing a bunch of horses and men standing on the front of your lawn, “what’s going on here?”

He looked back to see the people before looking back at you, “well we were trying to catch someone, and he ran right through here. I was hoping you saw something?”

You pondered a bit, before shaking your head, “haven’t seen a thing sheriff, sorry. Everything was dark for me.”

He hummed, before reaching down, pulling out a sheet of paper, “if you're so sure, take this. His name Reiner Braun, a dangerous felon known for robbin’ and shootin’ people.”

You slowly took the folded sheet, before peeling it open, those familiar eyes brown malice staring right back at you. 

You looked up at Sheriff Smith’s warmer ones, smiling, telling him you’ll keep on the lookout for him. He nodded, before turning around, and heading back to his own horse. As you waited to watch him go, you could hear a sudden thump right beside you. Closing your door, you glanced over to the right only to find the very man now slumped on the floor. The hand that was holding his side was now soaked with blood, the sounds of his slow, heavy breaths echoing in the living room. You glanced over at the door, at the muffled sounds of the sheriff telling his men to move out and continue looking before looking back at Reiner.

Letting out a defeated sigh, you walked away heading towards your kitchen before going to your sink and picking up an old tattered rag. Dampening the rag, before grabbing a bucket, and filling it up with hot water. Before walking back to the dangerous criminal, you bent down, grabbing the small bucket your grandmother deemed an aid kit, along with the bucket of hot water. Walking back to your living room, where Reiner Baun, which was apparently his name, was now writhing and bleeding out on your grandmother’s hardwood floors. Bending down, sitting at your knees, you grabbed the dirtied dress shirt he was wearing before slowly unbuttoning it. His large body dripping with sweat, you removed the shirt as much as you could, revealing the irritated wound. 

You took the rag, leaning down before removing his bloodied hand from the lasting wound. Slowly, you pressed it against it, applying as much pressure as you could. He fought against you, but his strength greatly dropped, allowing you to continue to press against it. He let out deep heavy groans, all dripping with pain. Soon, the tattered rag was soaked with blood, removing it before dipping it in the hot water, washing off most of the blood before pressing right back on. Soon, the wound stopped bleeding, just enough for you to get the gauze and the large sheets of cotton to wrap it. 

Once you did so, staring down at your shotty work of a doctor, Reiner’s own eyes slowly opened, looking over at you. 

“Should have let me bleed out on your floor,” he let out a low raspy groan, still in pain.

You scoffed at that, “and let you ruin my grandmother’s floors? She’ll rise up from her grave to scold me with a hot comb.”

He let out some formance of a chuckle, smiling a bit. Taking a deep breath, you stood up before heading down your hallway Stopping at the small closet, you owned it before taking the few spare pillows and blankets out. Walking back, you found the area where you left him empty before seeing him rest right on your couch. Pursing your lips together, you walked over to him, before handing him the blankets. 

“Here, sleep as much as you can, then I want you out of my house, all right now?”

He blinked at you, smirking before taking the sheets and pillows from your hands. 

“Thank you mighty kindly, cherie,” he cooed, placing the blankets on the couch beside him. 

You hummed, before glancing back at your kitchen. He’ll probably need something to eat so he can heal faster… is what you thought to yourself before walking towards the kitchen. He said nothing, only turning his body as much as he could, watching you walk away. His eyes lingered on your backside, before looking away, focusing on his accommodations for the night. 

Pulling out some bread, some meat, and other things from your ice box, you made him a couple of sandwiches. You took it to him as well, seeing him all laid out and spread out on your couch. Tongue poking out your cheek, you handed him the plate. 

“Just for you to heal faster, body can’t work without something to fuel it,” you said, turning around once he took it. 

He said nothing, although his smirk said all his words for him. You took the lamp that illuminates the kitchen, before walking away. Just before you walked inside your bedroom, his voice called out to you, 

“Good night, cherie!”

You turned your head and glared at him for a few seconds before walking back into your room. He let out a chuckle, before taking the sandwich, taking a large bite from it. 

Slowly opening your eyes, the feeling of sunlight beaming through the trees and through your window jolting you awake. Lifting yourself up, stretching with a smile on your face as you look around your room, ready to clean yourself up and head into town for work.

Three… two… one…

A frown immediately overtook your face, oh wait…

Pushing yourself off your bed, and grabbing your robe off of the bed frame, you flung your door open. Slowly stepping into the room, carefully listening for anything that didn't sound like your creaky footsteps. As you reached the living room, no sign of the man from last night on your couch. Glancing around, not seeing him in your kitchen or hearing him in your parlor room either. Nothing was missing either, luckily. Least he had that courtesy, you thought to yourself. 

That’s when your eyes caught onto something sitting on your kitchen counter. Walking towards it, eyes widening as your eyes locked into two stacks of cash sitting one by one, a piece of paper sitting under it. 

Picking up the paper, you gazed over it, 

For all your troubles cherie, now and in the immediate future, 

⸺ r.b

You couldn’t fight off the excited smile, as you picked up one of the stacks, sniffing it before squealing. 

“Oooh, my mother would tell me to return it… too bad that bitch wasn’t the one who raised me!” 

You placed the money in a hidden area in your room, before getting ready for work, which was at a bar in town, the only one within the area you lived in. The town was large, a farmer’s town with miles and miles of land tended by a multitude of farmers all around. It would probably be called a city to others, but you weren’t like them city folk. Wearing a creme dress, shoulderless with loose, wave-like sleeves. You paired with skin-colored pantyhose while placing your work shoes in a bag. You put on your walking shoes and grabbed your keys and other things you need before heading off, locking up the entire house, especially your back door. You walked through the pathways in the forest, glancing at all the heavy footsteps and horseshoe grooves within the damp ground. 

You soon made it to town after fifteen minutes of walking, waving at the locals around town before making it to your destination. Despite it being early in the morning, the bar was bussing with all different walks of life. Smiling at the bands of men calling out your name, waving at them before arriving at the bar. You shuffled into the bar, waving at your friend, who was serving three people at once. She owned the bar, inheriting it from her deadbeat of a father. The two of you had been friends for a long time, ever since your mother had sent you here when she moved to the “sophisticated” parts of town. 

“Hurry up and get up here! There’s orders to be taken, you know!” She said, giving one man his tall glass of beer. 

You headed to the back room, placing your bag down, before switching into your taller heels, with cotton-padded into them for a bit more comfort. You’ll be on your feet all day. Looking in the mirror, swiping your lips with gloss before placing your long plaits into two pigtails, tying them with matching creme bows before walking out. As you walked out, you grabbed an apron, tying it around your waist as you took your station around the bar. 

Your friend sighed in relief as you helped her out, taking the few plates in her hands before asking which table they went to. 

“The Garrison boys over there in the back, and there should be a few more coming out.”

Nodding your head, you took them down, plastering a smile on your face as you approached their table.

The morning continued like that and continued well into the afternoon as well. Your job was a rush, but the pay was very good and included a mountain of tips as well. As night approached, things slowed down just about as all the men soon had to return to their wives or head down to the secret club behind the old platoon which their wives didn’t know about. The door chimed open, glancing up and only for Sheriff Smith along with a few of his men standing right there. 

Glancing over, you see your friend tidying herself up, pulling her long locs out of her deflated ponytail, and letting them fall. Smirking at her, with her not even looking at and flipping the bird before carefully walking over to the area they had overtaken. As she spoke, having a shimmering smile while she looked down at Erwin who sent her his own award-winning smile right back. You looked back down at your work, which was wiping down the counter and preparing for you to head back home. Your shift was over soon since your coworkers didn’t like you walking back while the moon was too high at night. 

They had once asked you to consider actually moving into town, but you wouldn't have it. This was the home you were raised in, the home your grandmother had raised your own mother in. 

“Cherie, wait a moment,” Erwin’s familiar voice called out to you, just as you put the rag away, preparing to head to the back room to get your things. 

You turned around, seeing the tall man tower over you. You don’t know why, but your heart began to slightly pound. 

“Can I help you, sheriff? This ain’t about last night, isn’t it?”

He grimaced a bit, “m’fraid it is, lemme walk with you to the back?”

You glanced over at your friend, who looked between the two of you, shrugging her shoulders and nodding her head before focusing back on the others in the bar. The two of you walked together down the small hallway before reaching the small room where all the workers had placed their own things. He opened the door for you, thanking him as you walked inside the room. As you found your things, Sheriff Smith began to speak. 

“As you know, last night, we were chasing a very dangerous criminal, who had reached the forest where you live.”

You nodded your head, “yes, and you knocked on my door and you asked me if I had seen anything, and I told you that I had not.”

He nodded his head, “yes, yes you did. We continued to look through the forest, but he was gone. Like he disappeared within the wind, cherie…”

You nodded your head, “yes… is there something else you wanna say, Erwin?”

“This morning my men conducted another search, to make sure we didn't miss anything, and we found heavy footsteps… leading away from your home.”

Your heart dropped to your knees, lucky your back was still turned away from the sheriff so you turned to pack your things, flinging off your shoes as you pretended nothing was wrong. 

“Heavy footsteps, leading away from my home… is there something you wanna say, sheriff?”

Heavy boots walked closer and closer to you, as you turned around and faced him, face calmer. 

“I just wanna know the truth, cherie, you know you and I go way back. Your own grandmother helped raise me after my father died. You're like a niece to me, and I hate to see you in some trouble.”

You took a deep breath trying to calm your beating heart, however before you could say anything, the door suddenly slammed open, revealing an out-of-breath officer. 

“Sheriff, the other two thieves escaped their cell!”

The tall man cursed, hissing under his breath before running out of the room, not even glancing back at you. Once he was gone, hearing the muffled sounds of the rest of his men following suit after him, you let out a breath of relief. You soon walked out of the room, grabbing a box of food from one of the chefs for dinner. You waved goodbye to your boss, before walking out of the bar, the cooler air of the night hitting you. It was still hot, so there was no need for a jacket as you walked away, heading towards the forest into your home. The walk to your home was quicker than the walk to the bar, soon arriving at your home. As you began to pull out your keys, you could hear muffled sounds inside the home.

No…

Inserting the key, you flung your door open, seeing three figures lounge around on your grandmother’s couch. 

Locking eyes with familiar hazels, seeing him smirk before lifting up his glass, holding a beer, “hey there, cherie.”

You could almost scream. Instead, you stepped inside your home, closing the door before dropping the bag right onto the floor. You glanced around the room, seeing your table and floors all messed up and dirt tracked all over your floors, and you could almost guarantee that your icebox was nearly empty. You stepped over the trash, ignoring the two unfamiliar pairs of eyes watching as you approached the larger blonde man. 

You stared down at him, with him looking you in the eyes. Unbreaking your stare, you pressed your hands roughly against the side of his waist, right where the wound you wrapped was. He cursed, screaming as you did so. 

“Yeah, that’'s what you get, now y’all better clean this fucking house or else!”

The two others with him snickered at Reiner, seeing him being kicked around by you. Hearing their laughter, you turned towards them, eyes sharp in glares. 

“Don’t think I ain’t forget yall yet, yall get up too and clean this fucking house! Or else, I’m getting Erwin down here!”

Immediately the two of them shot up, one of them towering over you all like a giant. You pushed them all around, making sure they picked up all the trash and scraps they had put on your floor. You rested on your couch, entertaining yourself while you ate your food, still hot luckily. They were kind enough to chop up some wood for your fireplace, enjoying the warmth as they picked up the last of their mess. Once they were finished, the two unknowns had plopped down onto the couch, while Reiner made himself comfortable right beside you. He leaned down, mouth wide open, trying to get a bite of your food, but you pushed him away, grimacing as he laughed out loud. 

“Think you can fuck up my house, and eat my food, you have another thing coming,” you mumbled, eating the bit on the spoon. 

“Aww come on cherie,” he mumbled, landing his head on your shoulder, “i'm still hungry!”

You rolled your eyes, “go and find something else to eat, maybe in prison, where you all belong.”

He smirked, “and yet, you still hadn’t turned us in, cherie. Plus, I paid you kindly for your services, thinking that “immediate future” was a joke huh?”

You rolled your eyes again, scoping up the last bite, before hovering the spoon in front of his face. He glanced in between the spoon and your face, before eating it, humming as he did.

“Thank you kindly, cherie.”

Ignoring the warm feeling his raspy voice gave you, as well as the looks the two others gave each other before glancing back at the two of you. 

“How long you are staying here, Reiner, along with your two little friends, because Sheriff Smith is sniffing around me,” you gasped slightly before extending your hand, smacking him in the head again.

“Hey!”

“Be careful where you stepping when you leave next time, cause they was sniffing around and saw your fucking footsteps!”

He suddenly smirked, “‘next time?’ huh?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, before raising your hand at him again. He immediately held his hands up and surrendered, scooting a bit away from you. Annie and Bertholdt snickered, looking at the two of you. Getting up, walk towards your kitchen to put away your bowl. Reiner followed after you, a teasing smile on his face. Cleaning off the bowl, drying it, and putting it away, feeling him stand dangerously close behind you. Drying your bowl before pushing past him, heading towards your living room. 

“So I’m assuming you're staying the night once again?”

Reiner nodded his head, leaning against the wall, “hope you're alright with that, cherie.”

You narrowed your eyes at that, “didn’t I tell you to stop calling me that?”

He shrugged his shoulders, tucking his hands into his pockets. You glanced over at the three of them, before rolling your eyes.

“I’m gonna take a bath, y’all better figure out how y’all gonna sleep.”

You sat amid your room, ignoring the sounds of the felons taking shelter within your home. Sitting at the vanity table your grandmother had the in-town carpenters built for you when you turned fifteen. You looked over at the set of picture frames, mostly filled with photos of you and her, one with Erwin as well. Picking up one of the picture frames, the last birthday you were able to celebrate with her before she passed. 

“Is that your grandmother?”

Screaming, jerking up, knees hitting the table, as you turned, seeing blonde hair in your peripheral.

“God, don’t do that!”

He stood straight up, watching you as you turned around in your seat, still holding the frame. 

“And to answer your question, yes, yes it is.”

He held out his hand, and tentatively, after glancing between his face and his hand, placed the frame in his hands. He looked down at it, smiling a bit at your wide smile, arms wrapped in the smaller frame of your grandmother. 

“The two of you look alike,” he says, handing you the frame.

Your mouth curls up into a slight smile, and you place the frame back on your vanity, “everyone used to say that about us, and that used to include my mother as well.”

His eyebrows quivered at that, “your mother? Is she still alive?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “yep, sipping on fancy margaritas and livin it up in the big city with her rich old-ass husband.”

“Forgot she had her own mother and a daughter too, didn’t even come for the funeral, even after me and Erwin sent letters.”

He hummed, “Sheriff Smith?”

You nodded your head, “after his own daddy died, my grandmother watched after him. My mom and he were sweethearts once, but she decided this lil ole town was too small for her but taking care of her daughter was too big for her.”

“What about your father?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “never met the man, grandma always told me she’d wring him by his neck if she ever saw him again. Says he’s the reason my mother took off to the city and never looked back, but I think she was putting blame on anyone but her.”

Facing the mirror, the lamp illuminated the side of your face. You could see Reiner still standing behind you, his face cut off from the mirror. Crossing your legs, feeling a slow, churning throb in between your legs. 

“I like to think she would have helped you when you first arrived at my door, despite threatening me with a gun. She always had a knack for getting in trouble, and helping people who didn’t deserve to be helped.”

You could feel his hands beginning to rest on your shoulders, his actions not stopping your spiel. 

“Which is why, had my mother come through that door when she was still alive, she would have taken her back in on the spot.”

He hummed, leaning down towards you, seeing a few of your tears rolling down your cheeks. His face lingers over your shoulder, looking over at you. You glanced over, looking at him straight in his eyes.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to rant about my life, you’re still a stranger technically.”

You began to move away, but his hands tensed, keeping you right in your seat. His left hand moved from your shoulder, sliding across your chest, reaching up to your neck. Letting out a shaky breath, shivering as he moved your head back towards him. 

“Don’t gotta apologize, cherie,” he mumbled, thumb stroking your cheek.

Your body turned as well, your leg swinging over the bench as you faced him fully. Your body, responding to some unknown force, leaned forward towards him as he leaned closer to yours. 

“Reiner,” you gasped, right before he rushed forward, lips capturing yours.

The kiss was deep, and heavy, as his hand stayed tight at your neck, his other, sliding down your body. He grabbed at you, pulling you right into his lap. Your moan was muffled by the kiss, your hips slowly grinding into him. His hand soon left your won, settling right on the other side of the bottom before effectively picking you up. Unremitting as he approached your bed, placing you right on it. For a moment, he let go of the kiss, reaching down and unbuttoning his shirt, before pulling it off his body. As he threw his shirt onto your hard-wooden floors, your own hands reached up to his buckle belt, feeling his erection press up against his jeans. Reiner smirked down at you as you unbuckled, sudden haste pushing you. Getting the tough fabric off, Reiner did the rest, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. 

He soon leaned back down, climbing in between your legs before capturing your lips into his once again. Your hands slid up to his face, the feeling of his scruff against your hands and face. His hands slowly slid up your thighs, going right under your nightdress, gripping at your waist, pressing further into you. You could feel him pressing into you, the feeling intensified by the pressure he placed on your waist, easily keeping you grounded against him. His hands soon left your own, one pressing against the back for your thigh, pressing it as far as it goes. The other moved down your dripping wet pussy, two large fingers easily spreading your lips with ease. Gasping for breath, immediately choked on a moan as he pressed one finger, entering slowly within you. He moved from your mouth to your neck, as he moved his fingers in and out of you slowly. His lips were still wet, allowing him to leave soaked kisses against your skin. 

“Reiner,” you gasped, fingers weaving into his hair, messing up the blond strands. 

Back arching as his pace quickened, the lower half of your body trembling under him as you pulled harder against him. He whimpered against your skin, the feeling of you pulling his hair eliciting a deep feral feeling within him. Everywhere was heated, the air, your skin, your thin nightdress bunched up at your waist. Drool dripped from your tongue as you took everything he gave you, everything and more. 

“Lord,” you sighed, body aching all over, “I really shouldn’t be doing this, lord.”

Reiner chuckled, “I can go ahead and stop, if you need me to?”

You twisted your hand in his hair, “you bet not.”

He said nothing, chuckling one more time, but his kisses continued, trailing down to your chest, dipping into the valley between your chest. At the same time, he pressed another finger into you, your arousal coating his fingers. Your slip dress had long fallen off your shoulders, allowing him to reach them with ease. His journey continued down lower and lower, his hand still lingering on your thigh sliding down. The two of you hadn’t noticed the lantern dimming in the background, as the room was soon engulfed with darkness, nothing but the high moon shining over the two of you. Shuddering, twisting against your blankets as he plunged his fingers deep inside you, resting his head against your stomach. 

“Damn, didn’t think you’d be good at this, fuck…” you sighed, as your hips surged up into the air. 

“...that a challenge, cherie?”

Despite the immense arousal and pleasure flowing through your veins, you smirked down at him, “take it as you want, cherie.”

His eyes darkened, his unrefined look getting more and more feral. Reiner suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, taking a quick sniff before placing them in his mouth, tasting your arousal. Suddenly, he rose up, towering over you, before grabbing both of your legs. Squealing as he pulled you up from the bed, easily carrying you into the air. His hands grasping at your ass as he held you up, holding you up in the air. Your hands couldn't help but wrap around his shoulders, looking down into his eyes. 

“Reiner, what are you doing—” you started before being cut off by a loud gasp escaping your lips. 

You hadn't noticed him shifting his boxers, before feeling him sink into you deeply. Your sounds hadn’t deterred him though, his tight grasp on you as he moved you up and down his cock. The sounds of your moans echoing through the mid-sized room, the feeling of your tight wetness, only urged him more, deep, raspy moans spilling from his own mouth. His fat cock stretched out in ways others hadn't yet before, muddling your mind as he moved in and out of you. His brute strength allowed him to pull you nearly off him with ease, before plunging right back into you. His hips slamming into you, the possibility of leaving deep dark gnarly purple bruises all over your inner thighs. 

“Sosososo good, sos deep, oh my god!” Your mouth slurred on their words, head thrown back in euphoria. 

“What was that you were saying before?” he suddenly questioned, pulling almost completely out of you, leaving only the tip. 

Gasping, whining at the sudden prolonged loss of him. Your whines and squirms did nothing for him, only smirking up at you as he awaited your answer. His hands fondled you, squeezing your bottom rigidly.

“Tell me how good you feel, and maybe I’ll continue.”

Convulsing, aching for him to continue, your resolve fully crumbling. Reaching out towards him, your shaking arms attempt to pull him towards you. 

Your mouth spelling with pleas, “please please don’t stop, god I take back what I said. Keep fucking me just like that.”

He took in your words, his smirk getting wider and wider as you twisted, tears threatening to fall down your face. With no other words, he slammed back into you and continued pummeling you as if nothing happened. You clung onto him, and your head was thrown back as he did so. Reiners's efforts and actions electrified you, feeling your body jerk, a familiar pounding feeling building up within you. 

You let out a gasp, before letting out, “Oh god!” hissing as you came, clear liquid spilling out of you. 

Your cunt clenched around him, causing him to groan deeply, grounding his face into your shoulders as his thrust became erratic. His unsteady movements caused you to choke, his heavy breath rumbling right into your ear. 

“So good, fuckfuck,” he growled, slamming into you a few more times before letting off one final groan. 

Letting out a shaky moan, feeling him suddenly pull out of you, feeling his release land right on your stomach and thighs. Breathing heavily, legs shaking as he slowly lowered you onto the bed. Reaching over, grabbing his shirt that had landed right on your bedpost, using it to wipe away the mess. 

“Can’t have you getting pregnant now?” Is all he said, wiping away his mouth. 

You rolled your eyes, smacking him on the head as he threw his shirt back onto the floor. Just as you began to cover yourself up in your sheets, you felt movement beside you. Looking back, seeing Reiner getting into the bed with you. 

“Aht! What the hell you doing?! If you don’t get out?!”

“Aww, come on cherie, don’t make me sleep out here on that little couch. Nearly broke my back the last time I slept there. Plus,” he added, gesturing down to his wound, “I’m still wounded.”

You narrow your eyes, “didn’t seem like you were injured just a few minutes ago.” He still didn't budge, causing you to roll your eyes at that, “fine, but you better make some damn breakfast before you fucking leave.” 

He smirked, agreeing to your demands before continuing to pull the blankets up and around the both of you.You turned back over, snuggling into the bed, feeling Reiner’s weight shifting beside you. His eyes burned into the back of your head for a few seconds, before suddenly feeling an arm sling over your body. You rolled your eyes but suppressed the smile appearing on your face before snuggling yourself into his warm embrace

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