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[beardedjoel]

indebted

dark!joel x f!reader. one shot.

main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: you're having a bad day. one you think is getting better once a rough around the edges man comes to your rescue. you didn't expect it would takes such a sharp turn for the worse. first person pov reader. 9.2k words.

warnings: 18+ MDNI! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT! NON CONSENUAL SEXUAL ACTS, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, pervy, sleazy, and foul mouthed joel. degradation, sexual favors, forced oral and piv, virgin reader, corruption, innocence, and daddy kinks featured. biiig ol' age gap (reader's age not mentioned other than "young" but i imagine her as 18-20 as she has a relatively immature attitude, imagining joel 50-55), this is not for everyone and that's okay. i'm not responsible for the content you consume.

a/n: i had some hormonal induced insanity and came up with this. i had a great time trying out a new pov for writing fic! enjoy him as much as i did, friends 🖤 and thanks @joelstummy for the amazing freaky beta work!

I’ll be the first person to admit now that what I’ve been doing is stupid. Dangerous. Idiotic. The list goes on. I can hear my father’s stern, militant voice in the back of my head, telling me as much. Except now he likely won’t get the chance to relish in it because I’m going to die here. Way out here where nobody will find my body, and I’ll be just another person that went missing in the QZ, never to be seen again. But this time, it’s not some sleazy FEDRA scheme and coverup or a smuggling deal gone wrong.

It’s utterly and completely my fault.

Sneaking out wasn’t meant to become a habit, but after the first few times, I lost the fear and adrenaline that had burned hot through my veins at those first steps of freedom. I craved it again, so I kept going further. And further. Away from civilization as I knew it, until the cluster of buildings known as the Quarantine Zone became a tiny speck in the distance. Out here was desolation, nothingness, only abandoned buildings to explore. The infected were another story, but I started to learn routes that helped me avoid encounters with them.

It helped clear my mind after a while, this newly found sense of adventure. All I’d ever known was a cage, a walled city that had become so mundane I felt my insides starting to rot from the listlessness of it all. My father was important - top in the rankings - I knew that, and it was all the more reason to keep me safely locked away while the city stirred with chatter of an uprising against FEDRA. 

He never bothered to check on me much, anyways, making my little forays quite easy. Once I’d persuaded enough people with ration cards, they’d shown me the tunnel leading to freedom. Well, that tunnel, then another, a ladder to climb back up to the surface, and only then could I go through a precarious hole in a chain link fence. That was the smuggler’s route, they said, an easy ticket to getting in and out without being noticed. 

I’d been abusing it, staying out for days at a time, never able to drink in enough of this quiet solitude that was of my own choosing, not my father’s. I couldn’t quite figure out what hole inside of me I was trying to fill, but I’d be damned if I stopped trying.

However, today seemed to be my last chance to try at all. His footsteps had been quiet - so quiet - approaching behind me. An old store, full of half decayed plushies, molded candies, and other adorable things from lives long put in the past, had called to me, distracted me. The arm around my throat, constricting, the other coming up to put a hand over my mouth. A dirty, putrid smell encompassing everything as I sputtered against him. This is it, I’d thought. What a waste.

I scream and fight against the strong hold he has on me, a nasty sneer right against my skin. “What’s some fresh meat like you doing waaaay out here, huh?” a dark voice rattles into my ear.

I scream behind his dirty palm in response, kicking my legs back at him. I should have learned more self defense, but who needs it when you’ve spent most of your life safely tucked away with your family name as your biggest protector?

“You smell good… real good…” The creep’s voice buzzes by me as he takes a deep breath in, making me shudder. One swift kick and I’m sure this is it, the one to knock him senseless and let me escape. He’s smart for how distracted he seems to be by my scent, and he’s one step ahead of me. My legs are kicked out from underneath me as I rear one back, and I fall to the ground, the man coming down with me to sit on my back, straddling my body in a fluid motion. He grips my hands behind my back, leaving me helpless in my fight, kicking and screaming. I’m ice and heat all at once, my body burning in a frozen blaze, my fight or flight quickly turning to fawn as his weight presses down on me.

“You can have anything in my backpack, anything! Please, let me go! I - I don’t want any trouble,” I choke out pathetically, hating how my voice comes out in shaky waves. This isn’t how to appeal to people like this, people who have lost their sense of humanity, evident by the way he’s now grinding himself down onto my jean clad asscheeks. 

A laugh comes out of him that would haunt me as evil incarnate for the rest of my days if I wasn’t so sure that I was going to die at the hands of this man after he was done with me. “We both know I don’t give a fuck about any damn backpack of yours. I don’t want any trouble either, sweet cheeks, I just think you’d have a lot of fun with me and my friends. But mostly me,” he replies with the hint of a wink in his voice. 

My stomach clenches, sickness rolling in that is only furthered as the man leans down, cloaking me with his large form. I can’t turn enough to see him, to even know what this violation of a man looks like, but his energy is beyond hideous as I catch a glimpse of his yellowing teeth in a grin before he pushes my head down to the cracked linoleum tiles. My hair tangled in his fingers, he holds me down hard, and I struggle to breathe as he crushes me beneath him.

“Now, are you gonna come easily, or do I need to do things the hard way? Either way is fine with me, for a fine piece of ass like this. In fact, I might prefer it the hard way, but we’d hate to ruin this pretty skin of yours, wouldn’t we?” He says slowly, pressing the cold blade of a knife to my throat.

“O-okay, okay,” I acquiesce, stopping my squirming, just needing a bit of room to breathe, my lungs heavy inside my chest. My panic only makes my chest tighter, even when the man leans back the tiniest bit. I had hoped that my sudden compliance would get that knife off my throat, but it hasn’t. “Just don’t hurt me… please…” I whimper.

He lets out a long, ragged sigh. “Afraid I can’t promise that.” 

I’ve never felt fear like this, such certainty that I was about to be ruined, my life as I know it changing without a chance to even look back. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for it, for anything he’s about to do next, finally accepting that there isn’t any appealing to scummy men in a scummy world. But nothing comes except for a muffled crack ringing through the air, and then a thud as the entire weight of my adversary falls on top of me, crushing. Something warm has splattered on my skin, my face, then starts to coat my jacket, seeping through. I shake violently, begging my body to catch a full breath under the weight of him. 

Then as suddenly as it happened, it stops, the body yanked off of me and tossed to the side with ease. The deafening thud of his entire weight onto the ground is stark. I flip over and scramble backwards, grabbing the knife that had fallen from the man’s hand in his swift, final moment. Holding up a shaky hand, I grip the knife tightly, looking up to face a brutish, tall man with overgrown hair of chestnut and gray. A trim beard with the same coloring wraps around his tightly set jaw. He’s all wide shoulders, thick arms, broad chest, and my senses go on high alert again. His gun is practically still smoking as it hangs at his side, an active threat.

“Y’alright?” he drawls, thick and deep, echoing through the abandoned shop. One step closer to me has the knife practically flailing as I struggle to calm my hands, a strained hum alongside my shaky breathing the only sound I seem capable of making.

“Put that thing down,” he says calmly, almost exasperated. His stance slackens, one knee pushed out as he sizes me up. I’m likely the most miserable looking thing he’s seen in a while, I’m sure. “You’re harmless.”

“H-how do I know you’re not with him?” I blurt out.

My gruff savior lifts his brows incredulously. “That guy?” he asks, motioning impatiently to the dead body only a foot away. “Think I’d be puttin’ a bullet right in his skull if he was my best buddy?”

My eyes dance over him as I think. He has a point, and he did just save me from whatever debauched things that stranger’s mind had been conjuring up.

“Y-yeah, you have a point,” I finally say. He steps closer, and this time, I let him, putting the knife down. He motions with an authoritarian air for me to push it away, and I obey immediately, flinging it across the room. 

“Poor fucker died with a hard on, didn’t he?” The man muses as his boots thud on the way over to the body, kicking it slightly as if to check, letting it roll back before turning his attention on me. “Now, are you usually this stupid, comin’ into hunter territory, or what?” he asks, reaching a hand down to me, presumably to help me up.

“I didn’t know…” I mumble, letting his hand hang there. He doesn’t snatch it back right away, although I can tell he wants to, that he’s already beyond exasperated by his day and the last thing he’d wanted was a damsel in distress like me. I hate that he’s proving all the things I’d been trying to disprove about myself by coming out on these solo trips into the great, big outside. I’m weak. Dependent. Needy. It makes my skin crawl with self loathing and frustration.

“Didn’t know, huh? So just clueless, then?” the man spits out, staring down at me with darkened eyes that make me turn my head away in shame. At my sullen silence, he seems to soften a little. “I’m Joel,” he says, an offering to go along with his outstretched hand.

I sigh, taking it and telling him my own name. I’m up on my feet, dusting myself off and looking at him shyly now. I don’t know what people are supposed to say when someone saves their life, so I just mumble, “Thank you.”

Joel snorts, nodding in acknowledgment as he crouches to pat down the body, seeming to come up short of anything interesting. “Don’t thank me yet,” he says, standing back to his full, towering height, glancing around with sharp eyes. “We should move.”

I might be as stupid as he says, because I wordlessly start to follow him towards the door. His hand stretches out behind him, open and inviting me in as he checks outside the door with a careful peek, his gun held tightly in the other. I stare down at it in disbelief. “C’mon, I don’t bite,” he sighs, that perpetual vexation in his tone again as he twitches his brows at me. “Need you close by. An’ it seems you have a tendency to go where you shouldn’t.”

My cheeks grow hot at the harsh truth of it, and I grasp his hand without any further objections, marveling for a moment at the way it envelops mine. All calloused and hard, mine soft and unused for labor of any kind. 

“I’ve got a safehouse not too far from here.”

“A safehouse?”

“It’s already gettin’ dark. There ain’t no way we’re making it back to the QZ today, princess,” he retorts quickly, the pet name mocking on his tongue.

“How’d you know?” I ask softly, disappointment pressing in on my shoulders.

He chuckles out more of a snort, pulling me around a bend, slowly leaving behind the dangerous territory that I’d unknowingly encroached on. “You’re a FEDRA princess if I’ve ever seen one,” he tells me, and my heart sinks that I was so easy to read. I’d seen how capable this man Joel was, but damn was he was astute, more than I’d given him credit for. 

I chew at my lip. “Fair enough,” I mumble under my breath, letting him take his well earned win. The longer I hang onto Joel’s hand, letting him expertly weave me through the barren streets, the safer I start to feel. He knows where he’s going, a practiced route he’s taken countless times, and it hits me then that this man is a smuggler. He has to be.

“Are you a smuggler?” I ask pointedly. “I’ve heard that people like that come in and out of the QZ.”

Joel falters for just a brief second, giving me a wily grin. “Look who’s readin’ who now,” he says with a dry chuckle. “Ain’t gonna run and tell your daddy, are you?”

I shake my head, pressing my lips together in a smile. “I can keep a secret.” In fact, I like keeping secrets from my father, hence the sneaking out, so Joel can count on me to never rat him out.

His amused grin in response lights a little flame akin to friendship inside of me. This grumpy old bastard could smile after all. “Just through here,” he says, letting the smile drop, taking a sharp left down a street just as a sprinkle of rain starts to fall on us. It’s a less urban area - more like a neighborhood - sprouted with apartment buildings and abandoned, vine covered cars. It’s my favorite thing about all the exploration I’ve been doing, seeing the way nature can reclaim anything and make it her own. 

The cracked street below us makes me tread carefully, lagging behind as Joel’s hand tugs me along urgently. We turn down an alley, Joel whipping his head left to right before dragging me behind him, finally dropping my hand to open a door that leads right into a tiny lobby and a stairwell. He runs a hand through his damp hair, slicking it back some - a rather handsome look for him, now that I’m thinking about it. I try to ignore that thought as his voice booms through the empty room.

“Up,” he commands, gripping my hand again and leading us up the stairs. 

My stomach sinks a little when he takes out a key, unlocking a padlock on one of the apartments numbered 405 and pushing the old, chipped door inwards. I have no reason not to trust Joel, he saved my life afterall, but I can’t shake the nerves I feel from being in an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar man. It’s quiet here, likely nobody in the vicinity but the two of us.

“Home sweet home,” he grunts out, dropping his backpack and gun holster near the door and shrugging off his damp jacket, leaving him in a plain tee shirt that hugs his muscular frame. It’s a small, cramped apartment with a living room and kitchen directly next to it, a little window cut into the wall, peering in on the living room from above the stove. It looks as if it’s left exactly as it was years ago, full of furniture and clutter, only a vessel for Joel to use without making it his own at all. I peer past to see a small hallway I can only assume leads to a bedroom and bathroom.

“Know it ain’t the palace you’re probably used to, but we’ll be safe an’ dry here,” he say, and I roll my eyes behind his back. If Joel thinks that I live in a palace, he’s clearly misunderstood the state that the QZ is in. My father’s house is spacious, sure, but it’s just as dilapidated as the rest of the city. The only difference is the level of protection afforded to our homes.

He ambles into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets with a clatter, then comes back moments later with an open can of beans and two forks. I’m still standing in the entryway, unsure of what to do with myself.

“Hungry?” he asks gruffly, and I shake my head, wide eyed. I’d lost my appetite the minute that man had grabbed me earlier, and I couldn’t seem to get it back. Joel shrugs, digging in with a messy forkful of from the can. “Your funeral,” he says, chewing.

Joel sinks down onto the couch with a tiny groan, setting down the can on the side table next to his armrest, giving the other cushion an expectant look. “Well, you gonna sit your ass on down an’ tell me why the hell I had to save it today, or what? Why the hell you’re wanderin’ around like it’s a free for all out there?”

I flinch slightly at his harsh tone, but gingerly step my way into the room, unzipping my jacket and shedding it. For the chill outside, the temperature inside the apartment is more comfortable than I’d expect, my skin welcoming the change. Joel eyes my thin tee shirt, and I feel a flash of heat sweep my skin before I feel the prickle of goosebumps, knowing my nipples are poking through the fabric. His eyes catch there before he promptly averts them.

I sit precariously next to Joel on the loveseat, pressed as far away as I can from him, not wanting to cramp his personal space. But he seems to have no problem with that anyways, his legs spread wide open in a comfortable stance, leaned back against the cushions. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut for a moment as he awaits my answer. 

“I was… exploring,” I say simply, cringing at how ridiculous it sounds coming out of my mouth. Who leaves perfect safety to wander around in a dangerous world on purpose? For no other reason than curiosity and a sudden, rebellious sense of defiance?

His eyes snap open, head pulling up from the couch, turning my way. “Explorin’…” He mulls on the word, slowly licking his lips before pursing them. “You’re tellin’ me I had to save a FEDRA brat today ‘cause she was explorin’? You really are stupid. ‘Course you are, look how young y’are. Look how fuckin’... sheltered.” Joel throws his hands up, landing them on his thighs with a soft thud, sighing. “Can’t even blame ya.”

I pluck up every bit of courage I have, glaring at him with narrowed eyes. “Look, it was really nice of you to save me and everything, and I do thank you for it. I’m sorry if I messed up whatever… smuggling stuff you had going on today, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me… stupid.” The last word is quiet, mousy, and I turn my head down, eyes shining with unshed tears that I silently curse myself for. My father’s voice rings through my head - you stupid girl! - making me shudder.

Joel sucks at his teeth. “Hit a nerve, I see,” he says passively. “Alright, I’m sorry kiddo. I just mean, you’re puttin’ yourself at risk doin’ what you’re doin’, and it ain’t a smart idea. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I sigh out, relaxing a little. “I just needed to get away.”

“From your dear old daddy?” he teases, picking up the can, shoveling several more bites into his mouth. I go silent, picking at a thread on the couch rather than answer him. “Ah, another nerve, I see. Daddy issues. Could’ve guessed that one.”

“I don’t have -”

“Sweetheart…” Joel interrupts, looking at me from under his brows, pulling his lip between his teeth, seeming to look at me in a fresh light. It sends my skin tingling, the way he eyes me, a glint in his stare. It seems to prove his point, the way a pet name from a middle aged man seems to immobilize me against my will. I want to slap the smug look off his face, but I have no grounds to do so, only grumbling quietly with my cheeks blazing in embarrassment. A prickle of something else works its way deep into my belly, something warm at how his scrutinizing eyes flick over my body, the lines in his face set, showing his age, his experience. 

“Take a piece of advice from a man probably as old as your daddy, then. Trust me when I say that outside those walls ain’t the place to find what you’re lookin’ for. The sooner you let go of that notion, the better off you’ll be.” 

Frustration blooms hot in my chest, overpowering whatever the hell that sudden, unwanted feeling was. I’m tired of people dictating what I can and can’t do, what I’m capable of. “People do it all the time - smugglers - you would know,” I retort. “I’ve been doing it for months. Never had a problem until today. It was just some bad luck.”

“Bad luck? Really? You’d be that man’s newest little cock sleeve if it weren’t for me savin’ your ass,” Joel growls, standing up off the couch. I wince at his vulgar language, the picture it paints in my mind of what life might have been like if Joel hadn’t happened to be in the right place at the right time.

“I - I know - I’m sorry,” I blurt out, feeling my hands start to go shaky. “Thank you, Joel, I really - I really do owe you. Everything.”

“Like I said, don’t thank me yet.” He steps over so that he’s in front of me, using his boot to part my legs, scooting them apart and standing between them. “Think I did all this out of the kindness of my heart, did you? Didn’t think that maybe I was after the same damn thing as buddy boy earlier?”

I’m like a fish out of water, the way my lips move with no sound coming out. “Joel…” I breathe out in warning, in questioning. I see his arms strain in his t-shirt, hands flexing open and closed.

“I can’t say the thought ain’t crossin’ my mind now. You are mighty pretty. And you do owe me a favor. One big ol’ gigantic favor, for savin’ your backside.” He brushes his fingers along his jeans, palming his crotch for a brief second before leaning forward, caging me in on the couch with hands on either side of me, pressing into the cushions. My heart hammers in my chest so loud I expect Joel can hear it, can feel the fear taking hold of me. He bares his teeth above me like a wild animal, and now I’m certain he can smell my fear too, that he thrives on it. 

“You know what? Maybe you were bound to find what you were lookin’ for outside those walls. Maybe that’s what you needed, is it? Couldn’t find any love from daddy back home, so you wanted to find someone to turn you into their own personal little play thing. Poor baby just needed some attention, did she? Sad, really.”

My hands tremble, my words lost as I can only breathe in shaky little breaths, shaking my head violently. How can this god forsaken day keep getting worse? 

“Please -” I mumble out, bringing a jittery hand up to my mouth. Joel slaps it away, gripping my chin harshly at first, inspecting me before his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. I’d think it was gentle, caring, even, if not for the nasty look spreading across his face, the grin that darkens it along with his eyes.

“Time to put this pretty thing to better use and show how grateful you are to ol’ daddy Joel,” he says, using his free hand to deftly unbuckle his belt, the jangling sound like a death knell, making my throat go dry. “Promise I’ll be much better than he would’ve been earlier. People say I’m… a generous lover.” His drawl is slow and calculated, voice deep with lust, the sly smirk turning to a triumphant grin as he chuckles, amusing himself.

He grips the top of my head, pushing me to slide down the couch cushions into a slump as I struggle, powerless against a man of his strength. He positions himself higher up to bring the giant denim bulge right in my view. I wince, trying to turn my head away as his zipper comes undone, his hand grasping deep into the fly of his jeans, yanking his cock out. When it springs free, I gasp as he lets it slap me in the face. Hot, throbbing, and massive, leaking a shiny bead of precum that had ended up somewhere on my cheek. I sit stunned and held in place by his rough hand. 

The cold hard fact hits me that this is the first time I’m ever going to experience intimacy of any kind. Hell, I’ve only had one kiss before, and it was when I was ten years old, with a boy belonging to one of my father’s friends, a name I can’t even remember now. The first penis I’m ever seeing is right here, right now, in a context I have had zero control over. It’s thicker than I’d imagined one could be, softer too as I look at the skin of it. Veins run along the sides and bottom, all leading up to an imposing, angry pink head at the tip, practically bursting as it awaits me. It’s magnificent and terrifying at the same time, nothing like what I’d expected based on the half-assed health classes provided by schooling in the QZ. Sex has always had a shroud of mystery for me, and I never imagined that all those secrets, long awaited, would be uncovered like this. A dingy bedroom, a man likely almost three times my age, and me as an unwilling participant. Desperation swiftly grips my chest as I realize I actually have no clue what goes on behind closed doors between two people, and I have a feeling I’m about to find out in the crudest of ways.

The fearful innocence I know is about to be stolen from me causes tears to sting at my eyes, fat little droplets that instantly start to roll down my cheeks, leaking onto Joel’s large fingers still gripped around my chin. I start to struggle, my body seeming to catch up with my mind, loud warning sirens of DANGER! DANGER! finally blaring out in a panic. When I squirm, Joel plants one of his knees into my body, keeping himself balanced while still being able to hold me down. 

“Don’t cry now, honey, it’ll only make him harder.” He sneers as he strokes his cock, slapping the head against my closed lips a few times. He wrenches my jaw down, forcing it open. “Nice ‘n wide for this big boy, there we go,” he says, not waiting a moment longer to barge his cock past the opening while he has it. 

He groans loudly as he shoves several inches in right from the get go, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head. The hand that had been holding my jaw presses in on my shoulder, holding me in place. I’d have nowhere to go, anyways, with his knee on my thighs, his entire body caging me in, the cushions giving me no leeway to the way his cock is forcefully intruding, inch by inch down my throat. The taste is all consuming - a little salty, a little ripe, tasting like days of Joel’s old sweat, but it’s not completely bad, not what I’d have expected. It’s heady in a strange way, clouding my mind as I try to cope with the fullness in my mouth. 

The next moment I sputter, my eyes popping open wide, flooded with tears as he hits the back of my throat. I try to gasp for air and I find that I can’t. This is torture of some form, it must be. Full panic follows, where I try to move, but every avenue is pinned down in some way by Joel’s massive body. I weakly flap at him with my hands but it barely even deters him from rocking his hips in and out, choking me again on the thrust inwards as the back of my throat tightens, gagging around his thick girth. 

“Open up, relax your goddamn throat,” Joel hisses at me, keeping his cock pressed fully to the back of my throat, constricting any airflow I was hoping to have. I finally breathe shakily out of my nose when he pulls back just enough, only to slide it in slowly, his eyes carefully watching me. I glance up for the first time at him from below, hoping to find any shred of humanity he might have for me, but I’m met with an icy, dark gaze clouded with lust, power. 

“Gonna fuck your face now, like the dumb little slut you are. This is what stupid girls get for wanderin’ around by themselves. This is what they ask for.” He punctuates the last words with a sharp thrust inwards, my entire body convulsing with the gag I sputter out around him, drool pooling around my stretched lips. I would whimper if I could, if I even had the air to do so. 

Joel is relentless for the next few moments, rapid thrusts in and out of my mouth, my head held conveniently in place against the couch cushions for him. He groans deeply, his pleasure evident while I’m just trying to get my next breath in. I time them expertly, learning as I go, letting him continue to take from me to gain his own pleasure. 

“That’s it, that’s right, you’re turnin’ into quite the good girl,” Joel mutters above me, rolling his hips with vigor and making me gag again. I can feel drool dribbling down my chin, my neck, landing on my chest, and it makes me feel ashamed, embarrassed, and a twinge of something else. I can’t tell as Joel grunts, pumping himself in and out of my gruesomely contorted jaw, if the fact that it’s something even remotely sexual has me feeling things I shouldn’t. My cheeks burn hot as my eyes continue to water - how much of it is crying and how much of it is just my body’s response to him hitting the back of my throat, I don’t know.

Then he surprises me by slowing down, languid strokes of his cock in and out with sloppy sounds, a soft hand landing on my head, stroking before bundling my hair in his fist tightly. “Knew you’d have such a filthy little mouth for daddy,” he coos, rolling his hips forward a little further, touching the back of my throat with his cock. 

My body spasms a little when he keeps pushing, grumbling quiet groans of approval. My eyes squeeze shut, leaking out an onslaught of tears. I don’t want to see the aftermath if it ends up that it’s one gag too many and the inevitable happens. But to my surprise, he keeps slipping down, intruding on my throat. I try to keep my trembling body still, wanting to keep my throat relaxed, terrified of what might happen if I fight this. Can a person die this way? Could I really choke to death on this man’s dick? 

“Jesus fuck. Lord have fuckin’ mercy…” Joel breathes out as he pushes even further. “Swallowin’ him down, aren’t ya? Feel me right in here, I bet.” I flinch when he touches his hand to the column of my throat, wrapping his fingers softly around the flesh. When he starts to retreat, the choking is back in a second, but Joel holds me by the throat, keeping my neck craned back, returning to the brutal way he’d been abusing my mouth. I groan and sputter and try to cough through all of it, my mouth stuffed full over and over again before I can get a breath in. 

He’s relentless, and then it stops all at once, his cock popping out from between my lips with a wet, lewd sound. A stream of drool follows, a gush that dribbles down onto my already soaked shirt, and I cough violently, my hands flailing to clutch at my chest. 

As soon as the pressure of Joel’s body lifts off of me, I’m scrambling to somewhere, anywhere else, my limbs stiff and achy, my jaw panging with a soreness I’ve never felt before. He stands in front of me, one hand shooting out to grab the collar of my shirt before I can even get fully off the couch, pulling me close.

“Does it look like you’re done showin’ your gratitude yet?” he growls out, gripping the back of my head and forcing me to look down at his cock, still standing at full attention, shiny and dripping with saliva. I swallow hard, the lump painful on the way down. Joel shakes my head for me, the burn at my scalp making me wince. He presses his hips flush with mine, forcing his erection against my thigh before slipping it between them. He leans in close, hot breath ghosting over my face before his lips brush mine.

“You do make a pretty cocksleeve, y’know. Suckin’ cock like a cheap whore, wonder if you take it the same way in your cunt.”

I whimper, shaking my head, the tears non-stop as they roll down my cheeks. “Please… don’t. You don’t have to do this…”

Joel scoffs. “If I put my hand down your pants to that pretty little snatch, tell me I wouldn’t find you wet right now.” He punctuates the words with a sharp pull on my scalp. I cry out, lip quivering, trying to shake my head. “Don’t lie t’me after I’ve been so, so generous t’you today.”

I’m spinning around, a dizzying sensation, Joel’s strong bicep brought across my chest as his other hand delves below my waistline, plunging deep, right to my cotton panties, bypassing the waistband of those, too. Without care, without any sense of boundaries, his fingers explore, slipping through my sensitive slit with ease. I yelp, squirming at the intrusion, and Joel’s deep chuckle behind me confirms what I already knew, what I was beyond confused by.

“Thought so,” he says gruffly, then he cups my entire mound, giving an almost comforting sensation, holding his hand tightly pressed to it. “Nothin’ to be upset about, we’re just havin’ a little fun, payin’ off your debt to dear ol’ Joel, okay?”

I shake my head. “I - I shouldn't be here… it shouldn’t be like this,” I whisper in a cracking voice, hanging my head low as the tears just keep coming, damn them. 

Joel’s fingers start to move slowly, just starting with one, stroking gently up my lips, spreading my slickness around. I’m surprised that it feels good, a pleasant little tingle zipping right to my core that I quickly lament, hating myself for it. “What shouldn’t be like this, hm? That you shouldn’t like my cock down your throat? It’s perfectly natural, doll,” he says, somehow soft and condescending in the same breath.

“A-all of this,” I whimper, “Please, j-just let me go. I w-won’t say anything, I won’t do anything. I just…”

Joel quietly shushes me, letting his finger do the talking for a moment. It drags up to my clit, rubbing tiny, enticing little circles. I bite my lip hard, enough to taste copper, trying to suppress the moan climbing its way up from my chest. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay that it feels good. It’s ‘sposed to. Good little sluts like you don’t know any better, don’t care what it is that’s gettin’ their panties wet. Desperate,” he growls, fingers sliding through the slick mess that’s now drooling onto the cotton. “Just relax, let it happen…” I feel his breath, hot on my ear, before he nibbles, biting down hard on the earlobe, tugging it with his teeth. It bursts out, the whimpering moan I’d been holding back, just as he pinches my clit at the same time as the bite.

He laughs. He has the nerve to laugh and it sends a shiver down my spine, my brain muddled and confused and turned on by the eroticism at play here. He soothes me by nuzzling my neck, taking a long, deep breath in. I squirm as Joel’s hand retreats, and I wonder for just a moment, a brief, all consuming moment, if maybe he’s seen reason. When his fingers find the buttons of my jeans, my heart plummets to depths previously unknown as he unbuttons them, pulling the zipper down slowly, the only sound in the room his harsh breathing right on my neck.

“Please, I gave you what you want already,” I beg once more, feeling it fall on deaf ears as Joel tugs my jeans down, revealing my pink cotton panties. They’re my favorite pair - were my favorite pair - a rare find in a world like this. Pretty pale pink with a nice lacy trim and a little bow at the front. Only now, they’d belong to Joel.

Joel clicks his tongue in approval of the sight, pulling his head back to peer at my underwear from the back before his hand grips my ass, jiggling it roughly. “Oh, you’re jus’not getting it, are you? You feel this?” he asks angrily, letting me feel the hard length of his cock pressed to my ass cheeks, threatening to slip between my thighs. “This means you didn’t give me nearly half of what I want yet. He’s still achin’ for ya, princess.” 

I grit my teeth, hating the pet name, the way he’s using who I am to mock me. It’s a low blow. I hated everything to do with being associated with my father - I knew he wasn’t a good man - and I hated most that it was so obvious to a stranger which echelon of society I belonged to. If I was so important, where were they now, huh? I want to scream those words at him, but instead I just feel my legs tremble underneath me, my knees feeling like jelly as they almost give out on me.

“Please!” I struggle against his hold, but it only makes him grip my ass tighter, hard enough to bruise. “I-I’m a virgin,” I suddenly squeak out, unsure of why I say it other than some last ditch effort to deter him. My heart pounds as he stills, dead silent with his hand grasping my ass like it’s his next meal, like he owns it. 

“Well ain’t it my lucky day. Shit, that’s why you were sputterin’ all over my damn cock, ain’t it?” he says as the epiphany dawns on him, laughing. My cheeks blaze hotter and hotter, hating that I’m even embarrassed at my lack of experience and skills, like I have some sick need to impress him. He notices my tension, my head hanging low as I cry new tears, and says, “Hey, hey, nothin’ to be ashamed for. In fact…” His hand fists in my underwear, tight and unrelenting. I feel his cock press against my ass again, harder than ever before it slips between my thighs. “Makes me awful excited,” he purrs, bringing his mouth to my ear again.

I only give him a timid whimper in reply, squeezing my eyes shut as I realize there is nothing I can do to stop this man. He thinks I’m a cheap whore, and he loves it. I’m a pure virgin, and he loves it even more.

He squeezes me tighter to his chest, my back starting to sweat through my thin tee shirt. “The hell were you savin’ yourself for anyways? Marriage? A sweet pussy like this?” At my silence, he cups my pussy hard, letting the dampness of my underwear soak into his palm. “Answer me!” he barks out.

“I - I wasn’t! I don’t know!” I cry out, trembling.

“Well,” he says, fisting my panties again, starting to pull them down. “M’honored you’d let me be your first, sweetheart,” he drawls, and I nearly scream at the insinuation. I’m not letting him do anything. 

I start to put up more of a fight, useless against his thick arms holding me so tightly. Cool air touches my ass and the space between my thighs as he manages to shimmy my panties further down even in my struggle. I clamp my legs shut in defiance, roaring out a strained grunt as I keep trying to squirm out of his grasp. He huffs in anger, trying to subdue my writhing body before he pushes it towards the couch. I land hard, banging my knee on the hard edge that supports the cushion, wincing and trying to catch my breath. I’m practically in position for him already, ass pressed out towards him, on my hands and knees.

“Gonna make me do things the hard way, are you?” He scowls, his free hand fisting in my hair again, pulling me close.  His breath is hot over my shoulder, the sensation vile against the skin of my cheek, stained with tears. “Been too long since I found a pretty virgin like you. An’ ruinin’ this perfect, pure little cunt is jus’ the cherry on top of a perfect day f’me.” 

I feel his hard cock twitch against me, a reminder of what’s to come. The movements are quick for how bulky Joel’s body is, let alone his age, as he exchanges the hold across my chest for my wrists, bundling them behind my back. I cry out at the strain, the awkward angle he’d twisted them to, fighting him again until a hard smack lands on my ass. I scream through gritted teeth, not giving up the fight, but another thwap! rings out through the apartment, making me falter. My tender flesh screams at me in agony when he lands another spank, even harder this time, then another, until I’m crying unrelenting, fat tears.

With me rendered motionless, Joel presses down, bending me over, my balance tricky with my hands behind my back. My face nearly touches the couch, but I’m precariously held up by the wrists, the strain already making them ache. The warmth dripping between my thighs betrays me as my ass stings in residual little pulses, so raw and sore but spreading a pleasure through me that I’ve never known before. 

I don’t have time to dwell on it before Joel is grasping one hand on my hip, notching himself at my entrance. “Promise you’re gonna like this, that you’ll never be able to think of anyone else’s cock but daddy Joel’s,” he spews gruffly in my ear before he thrusts hard, one swift motion to bury himself inside of me. I scream out, the searing pain between my thighs making me wonder if I’m being split open for good, if it’s possible that some things are just too big to fit in certain places of the body. 

“Fuuuuuuck,” Joel hisses through his teeth, making the tiniest thrusting motions to ensure he’s buried deep. Every movement pierces me with a new sting as my body desperately tries to adjust, to accommodate the horrible, overwhelming intrusion. “You were not kiddin’, sweetheart. Tightest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever been in.”

I sob, unable to speak, unable to move as Joel thrusts brutally from the get go, his hips snapping with force, crashing into mine hard enough to bruise. The lewd sounds we make disgust me, because I know I’m part of those sounds, my body enjoying the filthy things he’s saying, the way he’s taking me without remorse. He pulls himself out, clicking his tongue as he peers down between our bodies. “Christ, you are one sexy little bird. Poor little virgin bleedin’ on daddy’s cock.”

The thought horrifies me, making my stomach turn. “Please,” I cry out, my body rocking with the motions as he starts to fuck me again, the strain on my wrists as Joel uses them to help thrust himself inside of me starting to gnaw deeper into them. I’m like a ragdoll with the way he’s jerking me by my wrists, my body having no choice but to flail in time with the movements so that he can press himself deep on each cruel thrust inwards.

“You want more? You beggin’ already?” Joel grunts between his heavy breaths, sounding so cocky it makes me want to spin around and punch him. I settle for gritting my teeth instead, feeling my body slowly but surely melding into his. When Joel presses me down further, forcing an arch in my back, I whimper when his cock hits something sensitive, deep, primal. Fuck, is it something. 

“Oh, that’s it. We got her now, don’t we?” he says from above, continuing to stroke his cock along that spot repeatedly. I feel myself losing my will to fight, hating the pleasure but feeling myself lean into it slightly, my hips pressing back to meet his nearly against my will. “You ever come before, sweetheart?” He leans in a little closer to ask the question, the pistoning of his hips slowing the slightest bit.

I refuse to answer, tears pooling in my eyes. I don’t want him to take this from me, I don’t want him to know anything about me. He jerks my wrists at the same time he slams his hips into me, and I whimper loudly, feeling the way he’s surely bruising my insides. 

“If you ain’t figured it out yet, the rules are that you answer me when I’m askin’ you a question if you know what’s good for ya,” he spits out, and I shake my head, letting it hang limply.

“Use your words. Say ‘no, daddy’,”  he says with sinister condescension, stroking his own ego.

“N-no… daddy…” I say, my tongue revolting against the words, bile climbing up my throat.

He moves his hand to my head, stroking carefully and softly. “Oh, that’s a shame. That’s a daaaamn shame. All pent up, y’are. But daddy will make it all better.” He sounds deranged, sick, like he truly believes that I’m thankful to him for what he’s doing to me. I can’t answer, my mouth gaping open just as he releases my wrists, letting me fall to the couch with a thud. My open mouth gets a mouthful of the cushions, making me sick over the fact that it’s probably full of god knows what due to its age and whatever things Joel seems to get up to in this apartment of his.

I blink as Joel grips tightly at my hips, wondering why he suddenly trusts my hands to be free, when it happens. He thrusts into that spot again, harsh and unforgiving, and I nearly see stars behind my eyes as the head of his cock punches against things I didn’t even know were there. That’s why. I’m incapacitated at this angle, brutally forced to enjoy the pleasure washing over my body as Joel takes from me, actually giving in return this time.

I bite my tongue hard, not wanting to give him any satisfaction for the tiny moans that are growing louder in my throat, desperate to be let out.

“Let me hear you, princess. Daddy doesn’t do with quiet girls. I can feel you clampin’ down on my cock, know you’re lovin’ how I use you up like you were meant for it.”

I shake my head in protest, but a strangled sound escapes past my tight lips when Joel slams into me harder than he has yet, puffing hard as he fucks me like a greedy animal. He chuckles through heavy breaths, little whispers of that’s it, come on, take it, flow freely from his nasty mouth. 

I feel myself slip away, further gone from reality as the warmth spreads from my pelvis into my belly, coiling tight. Everything tingles, set on fire, the spot where Joel handles my hips with his fat fingers practically burning with a constant mix of pleasure and pain. I cry out when Joel’s cock pulls that feeling out from deep inside of me again, half a sob and half a moan as it crescendos, waves of pleasure crashing over me.

Joel’s grunts of approval, so brutish and debauched, sends a new wave of arousal through me. I tremble, eyes squeezed shut with my body completely out of my control, taken over by this boundless bliss. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before: heavenly warmth worlds above any of the pleasures I’ve known. This had to be what Joel was referring to, urging me towards, telling me he wanted to make me come. This had to be what I was missing out on all these years, hiding myself away. Was this the reason sex was so coveted, so sought after? Was this feeling… the reason he’s doing what he is to me right now?  

It feels like it’s never ending, my body so rigid as it spasms yet pliant as he fucks into me harder and harder. I loathe the noises I’m making that intermingle with his as I squeeze my eyes shut, enjoying it.

“Fuck, fuck - that’s it - f-fuck knew you’d love it. Come on my cock, baby, that’s right.” Joel’s string of praises reach my ears as I come down from my high, limp and yielding to whatever it is he wants to do to me now. I have no fight - my bones turned to jelly, my body sore all over, my throat scratchy from the way he’d assaulted it earlier. I only have it in me to give the rest of myself over, whether I like it or not. 

“S-so fuckin’ tight, lettin’ me take your virginity like a good little whore,” he punches out, pounding into my sensitive cunt like it’s saving his soul, like it’s the only thing he could ever care about. I’m on the precipice of coming again, my nerves still frayed and on edge from the last one. A smaller but still powerful climax takes over, my body shuddering and tight, milking every last second of the pleasure. 

“Gonna blow my load into this pure little pussy, make it mine - fuck - gonna fill you up like the cocksleeve you are. P-probably never want to be without my fuckin’ load drippin’ out of you again. I-I’m close, fuck -” Joel rambles as he ruts his hips deep, one final thrust and a grunt, and I feel him stall, pulsing into me. 

It’s all suddenly very still, an eerie quiet settling over the room. My entire body burns hot, the only thing keeping me from collapsing is Joel’s hands still anchored on my hips as he leaves his cock inside of me, plugging me up. I want to cry again at the sudden, overwhelming shame I feel, but I can’t give him the satisfaction. I can’t.

Joel pats my ass a few times, pulling out. I tremble hard, falling forward onto the couch without his hold, instantly curling in on myself. I resent the way I’d noticed how empty I felt the second he was gone, how cold my body was without his warmth pressed into it. I dare to peer up at the sick man who stands above me, catching his breath, watching just as the last bit of his softening cock gets tucked back into his jeans. He swipes a hand across his forehead, gathering sweat, staring down at me with a darkened expression, grinning cockily.

When he plops down on the couch next to me, picking up the can of beans he’d been eating before, my mouth hangs open in surprise at how casual he’s acting. I watch his face shine with sweat, his breathing still labored, but everything else about his attitude would indicate he didn’t just force himself on me. 

I try to keep my expression neutral for my own safety as I feel something leak out of me, not even wanting to give him the smug satisfaction of having to confirm my suspicions about what it is. I do my best to position my body so he can’t see between my legs as I try to pull my underwear up from where they sit near my knees, my jeans following. Joel only gives me a knowing glance as he takes a bite, conscious of the fact that a part of him sits inside my now soiled underwear, and a part of me now sits inside of his soul. 

He shoves the can my way and I shrink back at his sudden motion, not taking it from him. “Eat. I ain’t havin’ you all weak and despondent for the next time.”

I feel my heart sink down past my ass, my stomach plummeting along with it as nausea overtakes me, a dizzying sensation clouding my vision. He couldn’t have said what I think he did. I - I’d paid my debt, whatever it was he thought I owed him for saving me when I didn’t even ask him to. For saving me and then doing exactly what that man had planned to do anyways under the guise of a caring, noble rescuer.

“N-next time…?” I manage to make my mouth move, my throat to produce a sound, pushing the question out in a voice that doesn’t sound like my own.

“Know you said not to call you stupid but my house, my rules, an’ sweetheart…” He looks at me under his raised, expectant brows. “My stupid, stupid girl. Did you really think that would be enough? That I’d get an opportunity every man dreams of - an untouched, perfect pussy like yours, to keep all for m’self, and throw it all away?” He’s creeping closer as he speaks, shrouding me on the couch with his huge frame, caging in where I lay, my body wound as tightly as it can to itself to block whatever he’s thinking of doing next. “Now you don’t think daddy is that dumb to let you go knowin’ all that, do you?”

I sit stunned silent underneath him, wide eyes fixed in a tortured gaze on his rugged face, but his hand squeezing my thigh is warning enough for me to shake my head, stuttering out an answer. “N-no. No…” I whisper. 

Two approving pats on my cheek send Joel slinking back slightly, his dark, unhinged eyes staring holes into me as they roam over my body. Despite nothing even visible - my chest hidden underneath my arms and legs clamped tightly - I feel violated, objectified. 

Terror rips through my chest as reality settles in slowly but surely. I look at the man I’d trusted once, who’d shown himself to be a friend, or at the least an ally, currently feasting his eyes on me like I’m a product. Which now, I suppose I am. A whore. His whore.

“Now,” he says, licking his lips, that hungry gaze already returning, a bulge appearing in his jeans and stretching the fabric. “All I’ve got to do is decide just how long I’ll keep ya for.”

dividers by @/saradika-graphics!

[tobi-smp]

no no no no this is Absolutely true

the dsmp fandom's creative output has always been INSANE. there were so many animatics and animations coming out on a regular basis that I spent Years checking the search results every day, and there'd Always be something new (and likely something mind blowing).

and that extends to All of its art. there's more fic on ao3 for single character tags than some fandoms have in their Entirety. and so much of it is absolutely Brimming with soul, truly excellent on its own merits but all the more wonderful in context.

it's The Reason why the dsmp sunk it's claws into my very core and has never let go. it sits with you in a way that inspires you to create and share, and that in itself draws more people in and convinces them to stay. if you let it you can sink down into it and never run out of something new to find.

there've been other fandoms like it (homestuck definitely comes in mind as a close comparison), but I'm not sure there will Ever be a fandom that strikes that chord quite as well as the dream smp does.

everyone on this app yaps about bad media being better for fandoms but dsmp’s untapped and forever unexplored or poorly explored potential and general themes of attachment, grief and childhood and the fact that so much of it was accidental or improvised and the tight knit community that fell apart in less than two years makes it, in my humble and objective opinion, the single most haunting fandom i’ve ever been in. if you even care. clings to everyone like cobwebs i mean just look at all the sleeper agents and old urls that are posting about tonight lol YOU CAN’T ESCAPE

[capseycartwright]

you're my sun, my moon, my guiding star

“Fine, let’s have it your way then,” Eddie slammed his phone down on the kitchen table. “You set me up a dating profile then – Hinge, Grindr, whatever you fucking want, Buck. Set me up a dating profile, and you pick which random man I need to sleep with to make it so you feel okay about wanting me.” 

in which evan buckley gets dumped, gets drunk with his best friend, realises he's in love with said best friend, and lets his abandonment issues get the best of him. because your first is never your last, right? so buck can't be eddie's first: he needs to be his last.

ao3 link

Buck was driving himself to Eddie’s before he could really even think about it, the autopilot of his brain engaging and getting him behind the wheel, and on the road to his best friend’s house without needing much thought at all. Eddie was who he needed, in that moment – not Maddie, and her sage advice, not Hen, who’d be clever, and logical about it all. No, he needed Eddie. Eddie, who inexplicably opened the front door in his underwear and a pink shirt. Eddie, who let them sit in silence, a playlist churning out eighties rock for a full twenty-three minutes (Buck checked) before Eddie said anything at all. 

“So,” Eddie set his empty drink down, gesturing to Buck for a second. Buck twisted the cap off before he handed it over, adding to the pile on the coffee table. “What happened? You said that you and Tommy were going to the movies tonight.” 

Buck groaned, the sound loud in the quiet of Eddie’s house. “I was supposed to be,” he slumped back onto the couch. “But then he dumped me.” 

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “He dumped you?”

“He dumped me,” Buck confirmed. “Because I am a deeply unlovable individual who is going to die alone.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I think you might be being dramatic there.”

“I’m not!” Buck protested. “Eddie, everyone I date dumps me – or leaves me. That apparently doesn’t even change when I’m dating a man. It’s not – I thought it would be different, with Tommy.” 

“Because he’s a man?” Eddie’s confusion wasn’t judgemental – no, Eddie never judged him, Buck was sure of that much. It was sincere confusion, his best friend wanting to understand where Buck was coming from.

“Yeah? No? I mean – maybe,” Buck huffed. He wasn’t entirely sure how to articulate himself. “I guess – I guess I just thought that now I know who I am, that I’m like – consciously aware I’m bisexual – it might be different. That maybe it didn’t work out before because there was this part of me that I didn’t know, or understand, and that had affected my relationships because I wasn’t bringing my like, whole self to the table. But if it didn’t work with Tommy, then that’s not why. Right? Then the problem is me.” 

Eddie’s expression softened. “I don’t think the problem is you, Buck.”

“It has to me! I’m the only common denominator here.”

Buck wanted to cry. He wanted to lie down on Eddie’s couch and cry until he had nothing left – and it wasn’t about Tommy, really, because Buck had liked Tommy, but the end of their relationship wasn’t what was making him feel so devastated. It was the idea of Tommy, more than anything else – what Tommy represented. A happily ever after that Buck was falling short of all over again. 

“What did Tommy say, exactly? Maybe – maybe you’re spiralling, and he gave you a good reason that you’re not seeing.” 

“He – I asked him to move in with me.” 

“Buck.”

Eddie sounded long-suffering. Buck had earned that. He knew that much. “I know,” he knew it had been the wrong move. The words were barely out of his mouth, and Buck knew it had been the wrong move – but that was sort of his thing, to cling desperately to relationships that didn’t work because he was so terrified of being alone. “I just – I felt comfortable with him, and the whole Abby thing was weird.”

“Really weird,” Eddie agreed, wincing. 

“But not the kind of weird I couldn’t get past. Right? He came over tonight, and I told him – why be apart when we could be together. Then, he said he couldn’t move in with me, because if he did, I would only break his heart,” Buck sighed. He wouldn’t intend to. That’s what Tommy had said – but who ever planned to break someone’s heart? No one was that cruel. Maybe they were – but Buck wasn’t. He’d never wanted to break anyone’s heart, even if that had been the end result sometimes. 

Eddie was quiet for a second. “Did he say why he thought you’d break his heart?”

Buck’s beer burned his throat as he took another gulp, the sour taste lingering. “He said that he was my first, but he wasn’t my last.” 

read the rest on ao3

[100jewels-between-teeth]

NSFW Alphabet

AO3 ¤ Ko-Fi ¤ Masterlist

~

CW: The title should tell you everything really. But if not; 18+ for absolute filth, smutty smutty smutty filth

AN: Made in collaboration with the amazing @enterthedreams!! Make sure to check out all of their work and their conjoining Emmrich NSFW Alphabet

Also, please remember, these are purely MY headcanons. If you disagree with any of these, that's nice, please go make your own <3

Without further adieu...

𝐀 𓂃𓏧 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 (𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱)

Giving aftercare: Lucanis is extremely attentive to immediately make his partner as comfortable as possible. Immediately grabbing water to clean off any remaining residues, making sure to get their favourite drink (and his own) ready. Lucanis will always make sure that his partner knows they are safe and okay. Receiving aftercare: though is extremely important for the man. The year spent in the prison had left him in a far more fragile state than before. After intense sessions, it is imperative to take care of him and make sure he is safe, especially if Spite is involved in any kind of play.

𝐁 𓂃𓏧 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 (𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫’𝐬)

On them: Lucanis adores having his face touched in any way shape or form. Cupping his face, kissing his face (especially underneath the eyes), stroking his cheeks, it makes him feel wanted and loved. It could nearly melt him then and there. On their partner: Lucanis adores his partner's hands. How they wield a weapon/how they cast magic. He cannot help but just watch or admire whenever they are in combat, just thinking about how much he wants to worship every individual finger with his mouth.

𝐂 𓂃𓏧 𝐂𝐮𝐦 (��𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐮𝐦, 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲)

Lucanis could spend hours drinking up his partner’s cum. If he had the time to spend hours between his partner’s thighs just to be able to taste them and tease their cum out over and over, he would gladly indulge.

𝐃 𓂃𓏧 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 (𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐬)

In the rare occasions when he is most pent up (especially during his travels with Rook before their relationship was solidified), Lucanis would break down and ask Spite to help him cum, whether it be with words or some other means.

𝐄 𓂃𓏧 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲? 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠?)

Lucanis has barely any experience. He was not a virgin when he was intimate with Rook, no, but it was not like he would generally partake. Other than the one or two times Illario had dragged him to a brothel, Lucanis was far too busy with his work to even really think of relationships or sex.

𝐅 𓂃𓏧 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠)

Cowgirl: Lucanis loves to be ridden to the moon and back. To be at his lovers mercy, to know that they are experiencing every pleasure they could from him alone, and to watch them like the Divine Being they are.

𝐆 𓂃𓏧 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐲 (𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭? 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬? 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

When Lucanis is in the moment, he is extremely serious. Serious in adoring every inch of his partner and not wanting to waste a single moment being in their embrace.

𝐇 𓂃𓏧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐫 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲? 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐬? 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

Lucanis makes sure, for his partner, he is always well groomed. The last thing he would want is for his hair to be seen as any sort of inconvenience to his partner. His pubic hair does match the raven locks he has, curly and soft, always making sure they have the wonderful aroma of sandalwood, his general beautiful musk, and a hint of coffee.

𝐈 𓂃𓏧 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭? 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭)

Lucanis is nothing if not intimate. He puts his entire heart into having the privilege of being intimate with his partner, and he will always make sure they know. Whispered compliments intermingled with his whimpers and whines, kissing every square inch of their lover’s skin, telling them just how beautiful they are.

𝐉 𓂃𓏧 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟𝐟 (𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧)

Lucanis rarely masterbated before the events of Veilguard. He was far too invested with his work. Maybe once or twice a month, even then they were very quick moments. Meeting Rook, however, changed everything. As the time went on, and Lucanis’s yearning became more and more apparent, it became a much harder struggle to stop himself. ESPECIALLY when Spite is there to whisper those most intimate thoughts of his straight back into his ear. Countless nights he would find himself biting into his pillow as thoughts of Rook raced through his find, his hand already coated in a load spent before.

𝐊 𓂃𓏧 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 (𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬)

Drooling: Lucanis loves to always openly show just how much a mess their partner makes of them. Coming back for air from a truly sloppy kiss or devouring between their thighs, having his and his partner’s saliva dripping down his chin, making the hairs of his beard glisten, having their scent permeate every sense, it drives him wild. Pegging: With enough trust between the two, Lucanis would be the first to broach the subject of being pegged. To offer himself at his most vulnerable to his partner, to let them take him in the most personal way, to feel his partner fill him to the brim while touching the most delicious spot of his body. The thought drives him mad. Edging: Lucanis adores that beautiful kind of torture his partner elicits when they take him away from that beautiful climax. To have his mind and body completely unravel by their touch, words only becoming the most primal cries and whimpers, to him is perfection. Praise: Praising Lucanis would send him over the edge into oblivion near immediatley. To tell him how good he is, how wonderful he is behaving, that he feels amazing, it would near drive the poor man to tears.

𝐋 𓂃𓏧 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨)

Lucanis is a classic man, so the bedroom is usually the only place he will fully let himself go. But, when driven to a breaking point, he will drag his partner off into certain Treviso alleys to have his way.

𝐌 𓂃𓏧 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐧, 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠)

Eye contact and scent, Especially with Spite. Just those lingering stares alone can get his cock immediately rock hard. With Spite whispering into his ear how they can smell the hot arousal of their partner, the pheromones that seep into his nostrils, Lucanis is driven mad.

𝐍 𓂃𓏧 𝐍𝐨 (𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐝𝐨, 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐬)

Anything in consideration of harming their partner. The last thing Lucanis would ever do is cause any kind of pain and harm. It is something he would never be able to live down.

𝐎 𓂃𓏧 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

Lucanis prefers giving over receiving. Not that he doesnt love receiving, but to give oral, and to know it is his lips, his tongue, making their partner sing such pretty sounds, nothing could ever make him more satisfied.

𝐏 𓂃𓏧 𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐞 (𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡? 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥? 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

Lucanis loves to take his time when it comes to sex. He never wants his partner to feel like he wants to rush the process. He wants to drag out every second of this, make sure you know how badly he needed his partner through the day. They are not one deserving to be rushed, they are one who deserves to be appreciated.

𝐐 𓂃𓏧 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞 (𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

Depending on how pent up he is, Lucanis would definitely fold for a quickie, though if he could, he would hold out until he was at home with his partner to properly ravish them.

𝐑 𓂃𓏧 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐤 (𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭? 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐬? 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

Lucanis will always experiment, as long as what is on the table has nothing to do with bringing him or his lover any kind of physical harm.

𝐒 𓂃𓏧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫? 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭?)

Lucanis, bless his heart, tries his best to have the stamina to keep up with his partners. But with the encroaching exhaustion of lack of sleep, it is a blessing if the man can go for more than two rounds at most.

𝐓 𓂃𓏧 𝐓𝐨𝐲𝐬 (𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐬? 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦? 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬?)

Lucanis will always be open to toys. Strap ons, cock rings, beads, etc. Lucanis is not closed minded when it comes to any kind of toy experimentation. Did he own them before? No, but if his partner suggests, he knows a few Antivan shops…

𝐔 𓂃𓏧 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞)

Whether it is him being pent up, or Spite egging him on, there are rare moments where Lucanis decides to become unrelenting in his teasing. Whether it be longing looks across the table, lingering touches beneath the table, or sneaking up on his partner to whisper exactly what he wants to do/wants them to do to him later. It is not often, but it happens

𝐕 𓂃𓏧 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

Lucanis is not silent whatsoever. The man is extremely vocal and speaks his mind to what is happening. He very much does not hide his moans, whimpers, whines. He also will never stop whispering in his lover’s ear, letting them know exactly how good he wants to be for them, how amazing they feel/are making him feel. And Spanish… lots and lots of Spanish

𝐖 𓂃𓏧 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝 (𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫)

Lucanis woke up not realizing that, during one of the beautiful nights he had spent with Rook/his partner, that Spite had decided to help themselves and “borrow” their lover’s underwear due to the scent. It would be a lie to say Lucanis did not partake in remembering the scent.

𝐗 𓂃𓏧 𝐗-𝐫𝐚𝐲 (𝐥𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬)

Lucanis does have a monster size penis, though he is not small either. Roughly 6 inches, definitely a grower not a shower, well manscaped, with quite large testicles.

𝐘 𓂃𓏧 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞?)

For a man who is so tired all the time, and especially after sex, Lucanis has an extremely high sex drive. When it comes to worshipping his partner, or bless the thought, him being worshipped, it never turns off.

𝐙 𓂃𓏧 𝐙𝐳𝐳 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬)

Once the act is over, and aftercare has been performed, he will immediately sleep. Not because he is rude, but because at that moment, he truly feels safest. In the arms of the one he loves. His body, mind, and soul in complete bliss.

[sandwitchstories]

5 More Minutes

I had this image in my head of Mouse in Sukuna's haori. And then this little drabble happened.

For more adventures with Mouse, check out my Dad!Sukuna Series on my AO3 - Here! )

Author's Note: For anyone new to my Dad!Sukuna Series, Mouse is Sukuna's, currently, 2 year old daughter with reader.

Summary: Sukuna's favorite haori has disappeared. It can't just grow legs and disappear. Or can it?

WC: 600+

CW: reader is referred to as 'Mama' but not described, toddler dad Sukuna, girl dad!sukuna, true form Sukuna (4 arms), it's pretty much just plain Dilf Sukuna fluff and crack, SFW in every way, just family fluff, father and daughter fluff, writing them together gives me life

Sukuna gave a frustrated huff as he walked around his estate in search of his black haori. He had somewhere to be and he was not happy to have his departure delayed. He still needed to say goodbye to you and the brat. Which was never a short ordeal between your ‘one more kiss’ and Mouse’s ‘now me!’

You had been the first place he checked. You had a tendency to steal his clothing no matter how big it was on you. You had a litany of excuses for this behavior. However, today you were not the culprit.

He headed into your shared room to see if maybe he had left it in there, though he could swear he had grabbed it that morning. It wasn’t like the damn thing could grow legs… or could it? 

He went straight to your bed, looking down with his hands on his hips. It had indeed grown legs.

Two tiny legs attached to one very troublesome little girl. 

Mouse laid curled up in your bed, sound asleep, wrapped in his haori. Tsk. While it was indeed cute, it was also very annoying. Sukuna leaned forward and pulled at the material, trying to tug it out from under Mouse. She growled and rolled so it was tighter around her. He used a hand to gently start to roll her and try to retrieve his item. 

She cracked her eyes open and gave him your look of instant death. “What doing, Papa?”

“I am taking back my haori, Mouse. I have somewhere to be,” he said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

She regarded him for a moment before turning her head and closing her eyes again. “5 more minutes, Papa. Please and thank you.”

“No more minutes, Mouse,” he said firmly, starting to pull on the material again.

“Don’t do it, Papa,” she said in a sleepy but grumpy tone.

“Or what?” he challenged her.

“I bite you, Papa.”

He guffawed at her. “You’ll bite me?”

“Yes, Papa.”

Her audacity knew no bounds. “Well, if you bite me I’ll bite you back. And I bite harder and have sharper teeth. Now, give me my haori.”

“But I comfortable, Papa…” she whined, rolling onto her back to rub her eyes and look up at him. “Why need it, Papa?”

“I already told you, I have somewhere I need to go,” he said, picking her up with one arm and taking his haori back with the other, ignoring her protests. “You can have it back when I get home.”

“But, Papa… I don’t want you to go,” her lip started to tremble.

“Well, tough shit, little one,” he said, laying her back down on the bed. He pulled the blanket up around her and rubbed her back. “Go back to sleep, Mouse. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Papa?”

“Yes, Mouse?”

“You bring back something tasty for Papa and Mouse?” she asked, eyes already fluttering closed.

He grinned. “I promise.”

“And I get it back when you get home?” she asked, reaching out her hand to sleepily play with the edge of the haori laying on the bed. 

“Yes, Mouse, you can have it back when I get home if that will please you,” he chuckled. “Now, I need to go.”

“Okay, Papa,” she said, a pout on her face making her chubby cheeks even more prominent. 

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead before pulling back to leave. She caught his face between her hands and cracked open one eye. “One more kiss.” 

He gave her one more kiss and started to stand. He grunted as you managed to startle him as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. He glanced over his shoulder at you with an arched eyebrow.

You grinned up at him and said, “Now me!”

He was never getting out of there, was he? 

________________________________________

Author's Note: Sukuna was only that nice about his haori because she was asleep. One time, you and Mouse rolled up like a burrito in it. He grabbed on to the edge and gave it a yank, a huge smile on his face as he watched the two of you go flying across the bed. It's his brand of cuteness aggression.

[court-jobi]

Aquarium Date

Pairing: Hawks x reader (gn!reader)

Words: 3.1k

Rating: G~

Warnings: fluff hours, y'all. Mentions of PTSD but nothing deep, dark, mysterious. Just taking care of my sweet, sweet flyboy

Summary:

You've been introducing little spots around the city to Keigo, slowly reintroducing him to the public per his increasing interest. As much as he prided himself on coming up with the best date ideas, you flip the script and come up with a surprise for him today: high time the prince of the skies gets to experience an aquarium for the first time~

A/N: Here's the long-awaited poll result!! it's been a minute, but I've been polishing up some drafts and finally have a breather to begin posting them! (Also started seeing someone which oddly enough cuts into my writing time, oops) But thank you all so much for reading; I've loved reading all the comments and tags!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Quilted mornings greet Keigo's weekends now. Every Saturday, he sleeps to his heart's content- or at least until he rolls over with an indulgent stretch to find you already sitting up, nursing some coffee.

This morning, you return your mug back to the side table the moment you catch that telltale creak of his voice trying to wake itself up. It’s a careful move not to spill, but you're also bubbling in anticipation of what's coming next:

Without fail, Keigo will crack open his eyes, fuss against the light, moan how you've moved too far away, and *army-crawls* on his tummy until he can drape an arm across you again. To watch his shoulders work as he moves is still a handsome sight… even without his wings.

As he tries to sneak in a bit more shuteye, you stroke Keigo lightly, wherever you can reach. It's mostly his hair that calls out for your hand’s touch, though as you lay some light scritches down between his shoulder blades, Keigo rustles more. When you stop, he jolts his shoulder up in a nudge.

'More, please.'

"Good morning, GoldenEye~" you greet him.

Laying a groggy kiss to nowhere in particular (just an absent press of the lips on your midsection where he could reach), Keigo trills lazily but with a smile on his face. A wakeful state rests behind still-closed eyes; he talks before willing them open,

"Gmornin', bay’bird.."

Kei's morning voice should come with a warning– if you had no bills to pay or the human need to eat and drink, you'd never leave this bed with him in it like this.

He wrenches a little pout, a scrunch of his shut eyelids, "nnngh.. -wha’ times’it?"

To answer Keigo's drowsy twists and turns under the covers, you pull up the confirmation email on your phone with bidden excitement,

"Right about time for you to start getting yourself ready, babe," you greet softly, "we've got somewhere to be today."

An accented eye finally chances a peek up at you, "-where?"

"It's a surprise~ I'm taking you out. Up for a little adventure?"

"Adventure, huh?" Keigo cracks a smile with teasing interest, groaning into your side as he stretches yet again, "MMMMFH-hhhh.. now what's my baby got in mind f’me, huh?"

You've been introducing little spots around the city to him, slowly reintroducing him to the public per his increasing interest. You were nervous at first, but by Keigo's healthier mental balance between work and play now, you follow his lead and try to make outings fun for him.

Online, you'd come across a locals-only ticketing deal that was too good to pass up and thought to treat him to an excursion he'd likely never gotten to do in grade school... Since when would assassin training allow for field trips like most nine-year-olds get to go on?

Without giving anything away, you merely gave Keigo a small kiss on his forehead and left him confused while you urged him to get up once again. A frisky swat on his butt atop mountains of covers got him into action soon enough, chasing after you with roguish excitement.

“Guess it’s a bit late to ask if I should have changed into a wetsuit?”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be in the enclosures without permission, Kei. Hero or not!~”

“Cmon, you can’t swim with them?”

“Some folks do, but they get paid to do that! The rest of us get to watch how it’s done.”

“Sheesh, where’s the fun in that?” 

Giggling at his ridiculous notion, you find your darling’s interest in the building's flashy backlit signage  holds more depth, like he’s reading every word for the first time.

"Y'know, I always passed this place," Keigo emerges from the car, with a set gaze at the fish captured mid-breach, "but never went inside. Couldn't risk the wings getting too wet while on the job, y'know?"

"Thought as much," you rejoin him, pocketing your keys into your coat and all but biting your lip in excitement. "Wanna see?"

"Lead the way, pretty thing~"

So the two of you entered Kyushu's newly renovated aquarium center. It's renown as one of the loveliest in the world with a seven story high observation deck, prized for its integral underground facilities with access directly to the waterways through man-made tunnels and bayfront access. Quirk specialists who bear similar biology to nature's most wonderous aquatic life find their ‘home away from home’ here at the conjoining lab complex, and aid in conservation efforts alongside the scientists.

But out of all the inner workings listed on plaques and donor standees lining the walls of the lobby, Keigo fixates on one feature above all others the minute he steps in the door-

"They have PENGUINS?!"

You mute your giggles, cringing at his unintended echo through the ceramic walls and floors.

Merely nodding, your hush guides him to not make such an outburst again, taking ahold of his bicep and threading your arm through to keep him close.

"Surprise!" You whisper adoringly.

You feel the equivalent of a parent’s pride on Christmas morning, watching Keigo take in a sight like this as if he weren't twenty-plus years older than you were when you first came to visit one.

Unafraid and completely enraptured by the dark halls and den of water ahead, Keigo is stepping out strong with your hand in his, forgetting altogether that this is a paid attraction and he can't just spurt ahead of his own two feet.

A hard habit to break, going too fast for his own good… but your linking of fingers in his softens the sting of having to wait to show your tickets first.

Inside changes Keigo's demeanor entirely. From giddy interest comes a deep, profound quiet he was still very much capable of. You took the lead, enlightening him to all sorts of creatures which -you'd come to learn today-  he'd never seen before:

Shrimp were little marvels Keigo had only ever seen sauced up and on a skewer, so to watch them mosey about in their natural state brought a funny tweak of regret to his lips. Jellyfish were the 'roadkill of the beach’, to him. Never before had he seen how big they could get or how beautifully they migrated out in the open ocean. Fish with spikes, eels that glow, creatures with tails longer than their entire bodies, whipping around their cratered homes all set under interchanging lights… it all rendered Keigo nearly speechless.

So speechless, he didn't pay a single mind to a few nearby kids who were whispering to their moms if the man over by your side ‘is who they think it is’... 

You'd catch their eyes, mocking a little hush of the lips and sending a wink to their guardians- an unspoken word between you promised to let everyone just explore at their own peace and pace. 

These are the beautiful times you are gifted to spend together; now more than ever. While you wish under every star in the sky that Keigo Takami’s newfound free time was not at the expense of his hero work, you are grateful for the perks his rehabilitation period offers you now. In this time of healing, your relationship has flourished; not unlike the sea life around you.

Much like the aquatic life you walk by from enclosure to enclosure, the far-off vision of these sights in the wild remind you that so many beautiful things can exist under the surface of turbulent waves. From the skies, ‘Hawks’ in his larger-than-life glory became drawn to you just over a year ago: rooted to the ground as you were. Now grounded himself, It’s here that -once again- you amaze him with a new perspective, this time sharing marvels with him that exist far under both your feet, under the sea. By his awestruck reactions, you’re proud that you can enlighten him to something he’s never experienced. So many times, you’re so sure that he’s seen it all… but you still manage to surprise him. 

As he rightfully deserves. You’d give Keigo the world if you could.

Though for now, his complete joy seems to stem from checking out the baby penguins, half covered in the fuzz of their infant downy feathers. For a split second, your chest pangs when he makes an offhand comment about how they’re just like him, flightless. But Kei settles any subtle concern you hold, because his laughter is far to giddy for you to worry that he’s self conscious. 

Had you not known what horrors and traumas he’s gone through with his quirk, you’d think this is the funniest sight to see a grown man revert to child-like excitement. But now, it means so much more to see him so happy and carefree.

It’s not that you’re desensitized to such creatures, mind you! While you’d been taking candid photos of Keigo for your own private collection, a couple birds suddenly squawked an internal debate, demanding the attention of you both. It’s clear a race had been cast, because the penguins then slid right onto their bellies to a quick, friendly speedrun to the bottom of the slicked, icy slide into the water. When one emerged from the pool ‘laughing’, Keigo wheezed and started a cheeky round of applause for all bystanders to join in on.

Birds of a feather, you assume, and they love a good race– whether in the air or not, I guess!

"Can we-- maybe go back again?” Keigo paused before you could veer off to one of the last passageways before the end of the museum, “Wanted to see something again ‘fore we get to far ahead."

So you backtrack through the exhibits, and return to ‘The Great Room’.

At his lead, you're back at the tank the resident whale shark calls home, but you're caught off guard by where he chooses to settle– watching Keigo walk right up by the glass- not quite a foot away. In the middle of the feature wall, sitting down criss-crossed, the man you’ve loved in and out of the spotlight makes himself the whale shark's newest neighbor, smack dab on the floor.

Five-year-old Keigo has arrived, and your heart could break at the sight.

Looking over his shoulder for you, he's got a boyish look on his face that's a little hard to read. By his posture, he's relaxed as ever, but a hidden story sits behind his eyes like a mist. His scar pales into the rest of his cheek under all these watery refractions of light, to the point where you forget for a moment it's there.

At his pat on the ground, you mirror his seating arrangement and join him. No one else is in the room at this moment, but even if it were jam packed with chiding eyes around you both, you'd never refuse him.

Keigo looks back up through the glass when you curl up next to him- staring off everywhere and nowhere at once. For once, a lost look across his face doesn't make him look haunted. He's just overcome.

"I feel... small."

"Small?" you ask.

"Mhm. But in a good way," he follows the third lap of a long, spotted fish, surrounded by the tiniest minnows in a cloud around it. "It's different when you're down low, when you've always seen things from up top."

The perspective he holds has been completely inverted. You worried this was a hurt he likely carried around unspoken: not being able to fly. 

"They probably think waves are like the sky to them," Keigo looks up to where he sees the residual bubbles of all the wildlife rising to the surface. The light and the overlook banisters above casting their shadows highlights the tiny pockets of air, “n’to think like that card back there said, you can’t even see the surface when you’re on the bottom of the actual ocean floor. This is– just incredible.”

You’re glad to see him so happy, to have given him something new to discover. 

Keigo is quiet for a while, until he grows softer still in his normally unwavering voice. Seems now he’s not just found his ‘inside voice’, but the one he keeps special just for you. 

“Yknow that feeling where you gotta scratch your eye, but no matter how many times you try, the itch is still there?”

You follow, with a hum.

“That’s how it feels sometimes.” Keigo doesn’t look at you, but you can read his wistfulness through the first panes of glass in front of him. “I don’t necessarily think of it every minute of every day… but man. When it itches, it really itches. And nothing settles it.”

You rarely bring the war up on your own– reminding Keigo of such fresh events would be cruel, you thought. You only respond with your thoughts whenever he asks for them in a formal, work-related capacity, but you know it’s affected him in every way regardless of how quickly he appeared to bounce back. It’s also a sensation you’d never have an equivalent to share with him. In terms of support, you often weren’t always sure what to say to console him on the days he appeared the most down; it’s not that you could ever truly relate.

Robbed of his quirk– robbed of the air. To feel as weightless as the creatures in the water, unbound by gravity.

“But these guys–” Keigo looks up again with a smirk, “--they don’t even gotta worry about things like blinking. And anytime they get caught by some seaweed or something- look how the others take care of ‘em. Look how happy they are.”

You seek out the pod of fish he’s been tracking. Expert eyes, he’s still lightyears ahead on you with his eagle eyes. They are far away now, murky due to distance from the foreground… 

…it’s not about the fish anymore. 

It’s about his healing. Finding his place in the world. Keigo feels like a fish out of water, now– even in his new role as President of the Hero Public Safety Commission, but he’s confessing a key part of his journey now: the after, and how it’s maybe not so far away as you expected. 

It took Keigo a while to sleep shirtless around you, after everything. It was physically hard to do so, first of all… but more than practically, the act of baring himself in any way was tender in more ways than that of newly supple skin. He’d grown used to his entire torso being wrapped up for so long… his true emotions concealed and lying deeper still. 

Even longer, he spent a month wearing constant compression -like a tight fitting bodyglove or even a too-small hoodie- as it was more comfortable than strutting around bare-chested as he once did. Healing was more of a never-ending action plan, rather than a passive point of rest like most would picture. There were therapies and tinctures and salves and appointments that all guided a former hero like him back into a state of truly feeling better and treated as a normal member of society- civilian. 

That title, still so strange to him. Alien. Another reason he’d wanted to keep layers on while he accepts his own skin. Over midafternoon tea one day, Keigo had grumbled on a grim day that he’d worried he’d never be considered ‘normal’, even if he completely healed; that some wounds were too deep and he’d never be seen as anything other than a hero- even a failed one.

However, the page turned one day- Keigo coming to you quickly after getting out of a shower to snuggle up to your figure washing the dishes. The telltale warmth of his chest hit the back of your shoulders, same as the arms which wrapped around you snug and close. Kisses along your neck served to try and distract you from your tasks, but the bigger surprise remained how vulnerable he stood behind you: he was shirtless once again.

The thought made you smile, your darling love finally embracing you in a fully relaxed state... Content, happy- or at the very least assured enough to turn you around, begging softly for some more kisses in that saucy way, and sheepishly requesting a backrub 'like you used to'. 

Maybe it was healing for you as well, getting the chance to cover Keigo in restorative love. It's always been a source of pride for you, and served to give you connection in ways the rest of the world didn't see– a place to put your care and attention in new ways for the man who gives his all to everyone else.

He's still so beautiful, like this. He's got spark to his chatty tongue again, a lift to his cheeks, and lingers for your every touch, melting on the spot even without a single feather to hint at how he feels. He doesn't need them; his eyes do all the talking for him.

You'd always care for the hero inside him- those instincts will never die, truly. Hawks' brilliance lives through his natural leadership and street-savvy command as head of the HPSC… But to nurture the sleepy, tired boy who is still finding his feet on the ground, who works every day to make the world a better place than the one he was brought into, and who missed out on so much… he’s your top priority.

You sink onto his shoulder, met by his craning atop yours. Though the reflection of the glass, Keigo doesn’t look at you, but bears the most content smile while resting with you, sneaking your hand and twisting the pretty rings adorned on it. He’d gifted you most of these, anyhow. 

"They're sure not in any rush,” Keigo coos after the floating, drifting life ahead of him. 

The swarms of sea life, ebb and flow of plant life, and the simulated tides created all washes over you two in quiet beauty. The way each group of fish move in their own current is the most relaxing sight and -yes- drifts along at an unhurried pace.

You hum your agreement.

"Slowing down's not such a bad thing, huh."

"No, not at all."

Eventually distracted by your own lazy watching, you check on Keigo again as he’d turned his head to kiss your temple while still entranced by the aquarium. In a soft voice, he asks with a pining whisper,

“How long we got in here, sweet’eart?”

“I think it closes at four today~” you share, but make the mental note to upgrade your passes to the annual membership before you leave…

[iwaoiness]

oikawa who loves to sleep late, especially on sundays, and iwaizumi who has had his biological alarm programmed since he was sixteen years old not to let him sleep past eight o'clock in the morning.

oikawa, who's sleeping deeply, lips parted, his bangs tousled and cheeks warm. iwaizumi, who's already dressed for his run, coming out of the bathroom and tucking him in with a gentle smile, kissing tooru's forehead, checking the curtains to make sure they’re still keeping the sunlight at bay from him, and then slipping out of the room quietly, leaving the door ajar.

iwaizumi who's warming up in the genkan before lacing up his running shoes and heading out for a jog around the neighborhood, savoring the Spanish he’s nearly mastered, smiling at the familiar faces he passes along the way.

iwaizumi stopping his apple watch timer after an hour and a bit, stretching by the same park bench as always, before heading to the bakery to pick up a baguette and a dozen milk rolls.

oikawa, who's still fast asleep at ten-thirty when iwaizumi slips in with a soft “tadaima.” iwaizumi who's setting down his little haul in the kitchen, taking a quick shower, and changing into his old joggers.

hajime, who, while listening to a podcast, prepares one of their favorite breakfasts: toast with cheese, smoked salmon, avocado and egg, and of course the dozen milk breads. he also makes coffee in their new espresso machine that oikawa insisted on buying for two whole weeks.

then, past eleven, iwaizumi heads back to the bedroom and can’t help a tender smile when he finds oikawa still asleep, this time curled up on hajime’s side of the bed, hugging a pillow with the duvet down to his hips.

iwaizumi tiptoeing over, the mattress dipping under his weight as he sits beside his boyfriend, looking at him like you’d look at one of those sunsets bursting with warm colors and huge clouds, thinking again and again how he could never get tired of this view.

“hey, tooru,” he whispers, giving his shoulder a gentle shake. tooru’s face scrunches a little, a cute wrinkle forming on his forehead, and hajime’s smile widens as he leans down. “time to get up, my babe,” he murmurs with his lips just brushing tooru’s skin.

there’s a gruff groan, his brow creasing more as he buries his face further into the pillow.

“vamos, mi vida,” hajime lies over him, his hand still running up and down tooru’s arm, his fingertips gliding over goosebumps. “am i gonna have to get water again or pinch your nose?” he teases.

“no,” tooru grumbles in that low morning voice, muffled by the pillow, and hajime snorts, pulling back just enough to let oikawa roll onto his back and stretch with a little whiny sound.

and there, under his body, between pillows, oikawa tooru starts to wake up, slowly.

his bangs go in every direction, flattened curls all over the place. his eyes open as he finishes rubbing them, the color of his sleepy gaze softened by the haze of sleep. his cheeks are faintly flushed, a small drool mark at the corner of his mouth, his bottom lip sticking out in a cute little pout.

he’s so precious, so adorable, so genuine, so vulnerable, a sight only iwaizumi can see.

“did you get milk bread?” tooru arches an eyebrow, and hajime rolls his eyes playfully before nodding. “that’s my iwa-chaaaan,” he sing-songs, cupping hajime’s face and squishing his cheeks softly with that pure, sleepy, and sweet smile.

and then hajime gently pinches his nose and with a squawk of fake pain and a string of complaints and affectionate insults between delicate touches and morning caresses, their day begins.

sundays are slow and lazy, they smell of coffee and toast, they are brown and green, they sound like childish whining and soft laughter, they taste like salmon and avocado, and they are oikawa and iwaizumi's favorite days.

...

thinking about domestic iwaoi 24/7 its my passion

u can find me on my ao3, bsky and this is my carrd 🍉

[lcfbigbang2024]

CONGRATULATIONS ON COMPLETING LCF BIGBANG 2024!

●  TUMBLR TAG  ●  AO3 COLLECTION   ●

2024 LCF BigBang is officially over! 

It's been a long and arduous journey, so I first wanted to quickly congratulate all participants for making it to the end of this event successfully. I hope you all had fun despite the stress, and I hope everyone else continues to enjoy the content that the participants created!

There are few people I would like to specifically thank! I want to thank @solace-in-the-deep, who is the graphics-maker and moderator for this year’s event. He not only helped me in managing the Discord but the graphics he made were wonderful and did not disappoint at all! Next, I would like to thank my moderators @anemicbunnicula and @yoy05. They were of great help to me when it came to running the event. I would have so much more work on my hands if not for all 3 of them!

As of right now, I am not sure if I'll run the BigBang again in the coming year as it is going to be one really busy and important year for me. Nevertheless, I enjoyed holding this event quite a lot and definitely want to hold it again! So I may just change my mind if I see more people interested in participating in the event during the coming year. For that, I'll open an Interest Check form sometime later, so keep an eye out! And that's all from me for now. See you next time!

In the meantime...

Enjoy Your Apple Pies!🥧

- LCFBB Admin @wandering-tides

[novasintheroom]

058. Seduce

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 0.7k

♡ Warnings - none

♡ Description: You compliment Vash, and he isn't sure what to say.

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3

In the saloon, early morning light comes through dusty windows. There’s only the staff of the place around right now; a busser cleaning leftover tables from last night, and a young girl sweeping the floor. You and Vash lean against the bar, against each other, the smell of bacon and sausage and pancakes coming from the kitchen. The bartender hums a sad tune while she sets up glasses and rolls silverware for the day to come.

You’re both still tired. It always happens after a good night at an inn; you want to stay in bed a little longer, have the comfort of a plush mattress and pillows just a while more. Vash leans his head against a hand, yawning loud and proud. Your smile upticks at the sound.

“Late night?” The bartender asks. She’s mid-forties, if he had to guess, with crows’ feet at her eyes and smile lines.

Vash hums and glances at you. “Yeah, we always spoil ourselves when we stay in a town, huh?”

You nod and blink slowly. “It’s always hard getting up the morning after. You forget what a real bed feels like when you’re on the road like us.”

The bartender’s laugh is polite and understanding. “Well, you have the room for the whole day. If I were you, I’d take a nap right after breakfast. Let me go check on that, by the way.” She winks and goes back through the kitchen door to see to your orders.

Vash cricks his neck to the side and sighs when it pops. Your nose scrunches at the sound. “You’re going to paralyze yourself doing that one day.”

He only hums, waving a hand and going back to leaning on the bar. He brushes his hand over his hair. You stare. Vash knows his hair is still a mess, and he blushes, thinking you’re about to make fun of it. “What?”

You shrug, the bar of sunlight on your shoulder moving with it. “Do you know you’re handsome?”

Well, that certainly gets a red blush out of him. Vash laughs, bashful, and looks at the bar, at you, then at the bar again. “What – uh, I mean…?”

You hum and sidle closer. There’s been a spark of something between you two for a while now. Vash can feel it, the way it curls around his heart and mystifies his mind. You reach a hand up and gently grab his cheeks, turning his head this way and that. Like he always lets you. “Hm. Yeah. Very handsome.” He feels your finger brush over his mole. Your hand reaches up and combs through his messy hair once, twice, before retreating. It leaves goosebumps in its wake. “Too handsome for your own good, I say.”

Vash is staring at you now, bewildered. Your eyes are still sleepy. Maybe you aren’t awake enough to really consider what you’re doing. A doubtful smile emerges. Laughing, he asks, “Are you trying to seduce me?”

You grin, eyes beautiful and clear and so, so loving. “Is it working?”

Yes. Just being by you is enough. He shyly lifts a hand and places it over your own on the counter. He should say something, like how you’re beautiful, how his heart goes wild around you. “You’re…You’re…” he stalls. Then, looking down and away, he says, “You’re not getting my hashbrowns, I’m not falling for it.”

He knows you’re disappointed by the way your shoulders slump. The kitchen door swings open. You pat his cheek and pull away before the bartender sees, before he can do anything truly stupid. “We’ll see about that,” you quip, smile light and graceful against his rebuttal.

He’s left with tongue-tied words and a heat on his neck as she brings over your breakfasts. All he can do is scoot closer to you as an apology, elbows and arms and hands brushing as you eat, and letting you get a couple bites of his hashbrowns.

[sapphoshands]

hey, it's my birthday! do you know what i would like for my birthday? comments! or alternately, if anyone wants me to do a DVD commentary-type breakdown of a fic/sections of a fic, that would be fun as well. check out my most recent stuff below or look at everything on ao3.

agatha all along

you open always petal by petal myself (agatha/rio; E)

rio and agatha and all the things you can do with broomsticks.

Rabbit Heart (señor scratchy, billy, rio, agatha, herb; T)

post-finale: what happens to scratchy?!?

Lulled in these flowers with dances and delight (agatha/rio; E)

two girls, some bondage, and centuries of antagonism: can i make it any more obvious?

a hundred miles through the desert repenting (agatha(/rio); T)

an alternate take on agatha's trial and punishment.

baby, tell me how bad you want it to sting (agatha/rio; E)

a little bit of hair porn. also some pain.

wheel of time (selected)

you give it all away (liandrin/lanfear(/moiraine); M)

lanfear explores liandrin's dreams.

greet each overture (moiraine/liandrin; M)

the liandrin/moiraine backstory we all needed.

when the time comes to let it go (moiraine/siuan; E)

a brief interlude at the hut in tear.

sweetbitter unmanageable creature (moiraine/siuan; T)

it's about the yearning.

how time advances (moiraine(/siuan); E)

moiraine, on the road, thinks about siuan.

and many more stories, mostly about women, here. would love to hear your thoughts or to share more of mine (if you want a DVD commentary, drop a chunk of text or a link into my ask box).

[sammy8d257]

Saved Messages - AvA Sticktober 2024 Day 17

Written by Sammy8D257

Part of the Watered Down Hot Chocolate: A Melted Marshmallows Side Story

Word Count: 2123

CW: Angst & Hurt No Comfort, Swearing, Parental Sickness (Purple's Mom), Character Death (Purple's Mom), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

Summary:

You have 17 saved messages To listen to your messages, press 1 To send a message, press 2 To change your personal options, press 4 To disconnect, press * - [1]

[AvA STICKTOBER 2024 LIST]

[Ao3 ver.]

-

(LMAO- FINALLY POSTING THIS 2 WEEKS PAST THE END OF STICKTOBER, in my defense, I got busy and my attention was captivated by minecraft smp RP, RIP o7

I will preface this with a warning, this ficlet can get a little intense with the angst so take note of the CWs and take care of yourself! 💜)

=o=

You have 17 saved messages

To listen to your messages, press 1

To send a message, press 2

To change your personal options, press 4

To disconnect, press *

-

[1]

-

First Saved Message

Sent: March 2004

From: My Flower 🌸

"Hi baby! Hee-hee, I know you're just across the room but a certain someone is veeeeery excited about the new phones and wants to leave a very special message to test out the voicemail system."

[sounds of rustling]

"… okay now make sure to hold the phone like this- And speak clearly into here-"

"Hi papa! I have a super duper secret message to tell yah!"

[a pause before sounds of running feet across the floor]

"Wah-?! Purple my phon-"

 [a door slam]

"Mama hid the cookies on the top shelf!And I love you so much!! You're the best papa in the world!!"

[the sounds of shuffling and the door opening]

"There you are my little sprout. May I have my phone back please?"

[giggling]

"Thank you Purple. How about we go see if your papa gets your message. And yes Blue, I can still see you laughing even if you hide behind the door frame. So here's my message! I love you my dear."

[END OF MESSAGE]

-

Second Saved Message

Sent: March 2004

From: My Flower 🌸

"Hello my love, do you think you could do me a huge favor and pick Purple up from school today? The ladies at the boutique are running a lot later than expected and I'm afraid I'll be holed up here for another hour."

[a muffled greeting can be heard]

"Oh hello Jewel, it's always a pleasure to see you today! If you give me one moment, I'm just finishing up a message for my husband!"

[a muffled affirmation]

"Thank you darling, I'll be with you in one moment!

Ah, duty calls! I have to go but oh! Before I forget, remind me to have our discussion later tonight. You know I'm not as knowledgeable when it comes to the whole stick figure fighting scene and if you're so keen on Purple to learning, I'd like to get more details."

[the sound of a doorbell alert rings]

"Oh hello! Welcome!

… I have to go, I love you Blue, see you and our little sprout at home!"

[END OF MESSAGE]

-

Third Saved Message

Sent: August 2011

From: Orchid

"..."

[a sigh]

"Listen, I know I'm probably one of the last people you want to talk to right now but whether you want to talk to me or our lawyers, we still need to discuss this."

"My lawyer stated that there are two routes we can take for this. Either we get fully divorced or we can do a legal separation. It is at the behest of my lawyer that we come to a decision soon and I'm inclined to agree."

"..." 

"If you don't want to talk to me, then fine. Get your lawyer to talk to mine. I just… I just don't want to drag this out any longer than it needs to be."

[another sigh]

[mumbled] "... shit I need to check on Purple again…"

"Goodbye Blue."

[END OF MESSAGE]

-

Fourth Saved Message

Sent: June 2013

From: Orchid

"... Hi Papa. It's been a bit. 

I uh, mama let me have her phone to play the tetris game and I clicked on the wrong thing, by accident! But it was the place with all the names and numbers and I found your name and it's been so long and I thought…

I turn 14 in a month. I think maybe, if you want, you could com-"

"Purple? Little sprout who are you talking to?"

"No one mama! I was-"

"May I have my phone back?"

"Yeah hold on let me just-"

[END OF MESSAGE]

-

Fifth Saved Message

Sent: June 2013

From: Orchid

"Don't talk to Purple." 

"Do you hear me? Don't you ever talk to them again." 

"We don't need you."

"I'm giving Purple a phone for their birthday and when I do, I will text you their number."

"Block them."

[END OF MESSAGE]

-

Sixth Saved Message

Sent: July 2013

From: [BLOCKED NUMBER]

"Hi Papa! It's Purple. Mama gave me a phone for my birthday."

"I got your number from Mama's phone so now we can talk again! Ah, or you know, whenever you have time."

"..."

"Mama got mad at me for calling you last month. She's still upset about you and I-"

"..."

"I don't know how I feel. It's my fault. I should have been better. I know I messed up. I just…"

"Uh! Eh, I apologize. I shouldn't worry you with that stuff. I hope you're doing well! I tried texting you but the message said it didn't deliver? I'll have to ask Mama if I messed something up again."

"But I'll call you again soon! Or maybe text? Uh, we'll see!"

"Umm… bye!"

[END OF MESSAGE]

-

Seventh Saved Message

Sent: May 2015

From: [BLOCKED NUMBER]

"Pap-uh… I mean, uh… Dad. Sorry. I'm sorry. I-"

[Three deep breaths]

"I'm sorry for calling you. I know you don't want me to. No one ever does but I don't know who else to call and I just-"

[another breath cut off by a short distressed whine]

"Mama she's- fuck, sorry I'm sorry. Mama is, we're, we're at the hospital. She collapsed and and and-"

"I'm scared. Dad, Papa, I'm scared. I don't-"

[A grunt followed by a hiss of pain]

[muffled] "Get a hold of yourself!"

[A deep breath]

"The nurse said to call someone in case Mama needs to stay overnight and I know you don't like me but- !"

[the sound of door opening]

[muffled] "Are you Ms. Orchid's child?"

"Yes, yes! Is she-?"

"Your mother is okay. The doctor is coming soon to look her over and she requested you to be present in the room for it."

"Okay okay, thank you, thank you. Let me just-"

[END OF MESSAGE]

-

Eighth Saved Message

Sent: May 2015

From: Orchid

"Why did you call me?"

"No actually better question, how did you know I was in the hospital? I swear to Cursors Blue if you talked to Purple I am going to-"

[frustrated sigh]

"Look, it doesn't matter all right? I'm…"

"Well, it's nothing that concerns you anymore."

"If you really want to talk, call me in 5 hours. Purple will be in bed by then."

"Goodbye."

[END OF MESSAGE]

-

Ninth Saved Message

Sent: February 2017

From: Purple

"Hello sir."

"I apologize, I probably caught you at a bad time but before you close this message completely, please hear me out."

[a pause and a sharp intake]

"I need you to increase the amount of alimony you send per month. Not by a lot! I got a part time job recently so that should help a lot with the problem but I'm still concerned."

"..."

"Mama she… Orchid's treatments aren't working. Well they're not making things worse but she's not getting better either. We've been fine up until now with paying for medical stuff but there's a new treatment that I want her to try but it's a little more expensive. I just worry…"

"All I'm asking is at max an additional 5% of what you're already paying monthly. And I know how much that is because I do the taxes now."

"... Please. I just want her to be okay."

[END OF MESSAGE]

-

Tenth Saved Message

Sent: February 2017

From: The Man 🕶️

"Hey hey hey, Big Shot! Wasn't expecting a call from Mr. 'Killer Cobalt' himself on my day off. Sorry I missed yah the first time, you know how busy a man can get."

"But regardless! I listened to your message and I'll see what we can do about getting you that increase in pay. Gotta talk with the bigwigs. In the meantime, if you really are in need of more dough, your best bet is to find some additional gigs to fight at. I might be able to sign you up for a tournament if you want?"

"Eh, we'll hash out the details later, preferably tomorrow. You know what they say, 'All work and no play makes Granite a very dull boy'.

Heheh, alright catch you later Blue."

[END OF MESSAGE]

-

Eleventh Saved Message

Sent: March 2017

From: Purple

"Thank you."

[END OF MESSAGE]

-

Twelfth Saved Message

Sent: March 2018

From: Orchid

[a muffled steady beeping]

"..."

"You know, despite it being months, no years of this happening to me, I still can't believe this is it."

[a shaky chuckle]

"I was hoping for you to be in the middle of a match to call you just so I didn't have to have this conversation in person. But now that I'm here, I wish I could hear your voice again."

"I wish I could hear you say you love me again… It's pathetic…"

[a wet laugh]

"Heartbreak. That's what I was diagnosed with. Heartbreak that developed into an actual heart condition because of my animation origins. Can you fucking believe that? All of this because I came from a drama animation."

"I don't know why I never told you… That's a lie, I know why. My pride. My pride didn't let me. I didn't want to believe you leaving had any effect on me. I didn't want to believe anything was wrong. I wanted to believe without you, everything could just go back to normal."

[a sob bit back with a laugh]

"Instead, I messed everything up. We failed them. I failed them. I failed Purple. I kept it all hidden until it was too late. What parent has their child to look after them like this? They just turned 18 a few months ago. They're still so young. And now I'm never going to see them grow-"

[sobbing]

"It's not fair. To any of us. I wish it didn't have to be like this. I wish you weren't such an asshole. I wish you didn't leave. I wish we never met. I wish I didn't still…"

"..."

"Goodbye Blue. I wish I didn't miss you."

[END OF MESSAGE]

-

Thirteenth Saved Message

Sent: April 2018

From: Purple

[sobbing]

"FUCK FUCK- BLUE- DAD- PAPA PLEASE"

"SHE'S DYING! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-

I KNOW YOU HATE ME! I DON'T CARE I DON'T CARE!

SHE'S DYING

IF YOU CARED ABOUT HER, IF YOU EVER CARED AT ALL, YOU'D BE HERE-

YOU CAN HELP HER

I CAN'T- SHE'S-

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

I DON'T WANT HER TO DIE

MAMA-

[sobbing and a thump]

Mama… 

[END OF MESSAGE]

-

Fourteenth Saved Message

Sent: April 2018

From: Purple

"Fuck you. FUCK YOU"

"I hope you rot in hell. I hope there isn't a day where you don't regret your fucking actions and I hope you suffer for it."

"I hate you. I hate that you did this. I hate that you aren't here. I hate that I wasn't enough. I hate this. I hate you. I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU-"

[sounds of sobbing, a frustrated scream and then loud crash]

[END OF MESSAGE]

-

Fifteenth Saved Message 

Sent: April 2018

From: 

"Thank you for calling Obelisk Funeral Services, I'm calling to confirm that full payment for the funeral of Orchid Grove has been handled by one, Blue "Killer Cobalt" Stick Figure, instead of the previously listed Purple Grove Stick Figure. All parties will be informed once the transaction goes through. A list of details will be emailed to all acting parties. If you have any questions, please call the call back number at the end of this message.

Obelisk Funeral Services appreciates your time, thank you."

[END OF MESSAGE]

-

Sixteenth Saved Message

Sent: April 2018

From: The Man 🕶️

"Hey Big Man, I got your message."

"Yeah, I get it yah know. A death in the family is always rough. Don't worry about nothin'. Take as many days off as you need."

"Heh, Cursors know it's been a minute for you."

"Just keep me updated on a time frame and we'll be right as rain."

"Take it easy buddy."

[END OF MESSAGE]

-

Seventeenth Saved Message

Sent: May 2018

From: Purple

"..."

"Thank you for paying for the funeral. I didn't see you there but…"

"I saw the flowers you put on her grave. They're lovely."

"..."

"I've made a decision. I'm leaving. The house and its belongings are yours to do as you want. Store it or sell it. It doesn't matter."

"I'm going to a place where you won't be able to find me. Do not try. I do not want to be found."

"..."

"If you care… just know I will be safe."

"Goodbye Blue."

[END OF MESSAGE]

-

End of Messages;

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To send a message press 2

To change your personal options press 4

To disconnect press *

-

[1]

[enoughtotemptme]

a year and a day

Everyone knows that if you want to make a deal, you go to Eddie Munson.

Desperate to be rid of Jason once and for all, Chrissy makes a deal with the local demon. The consequences are…not what she expected. A story of friendship, love, and paying one’s debts.

Chapters: 3/13 Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationship: Chrissy Cunningham/Eddie Munson Tags: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Demon Deals, POV Chrissy Cunningham, Friendship, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Found Family, Roommates, Domestic Fluff, 1990s, Caretaking, Pining

Chapter Three: August

Eddie looks tired the morning of the move. She knows it stormed for a good few hours in the middle of the night, because the thunder and lightning had woken her up, rattling the house. 

Chrissy had gone to find Eddie at that point—she hadn’t been frightened, but she’d known he’d already be awake and she wouldn’t be able to sleep until the worst of the storm passed. 

“Got you too?” he’d asked when she’d knocked lightly on the doorframe. “Come on, get in.” 

She’d taken the spot next to him on the bed and he’d read Fellowship aloud until the storm was distant enough for them both to sleep. But even accounting for those lost hours last night, he looks too tired, Chrissy thinks as she watches him check all of the closets, cupboards, and drawers for strays. 

She puts her hand on his arm when he sticks his head inside the oven and rattles around like he’s going to find the entrance to Narnia tucked away somewhere inside. 

“Eddie.”

“What?”

“You’ve got everything. It’s alright.”

He remains stiff under her touch for another moment, then sighs and pulls himself out and upright, if a little slouched.

Eddie looks grim as he glances around the kitchen, the living room. Even the pegs on the wall are gone now, and it all seems very bare. 

Her hand moves to his back, and he radiates heat against her palm. She doesn’t know if her touch is as comforting to him as his is to her, given that she’s at least a handful of degrees cooler, but she hopes it’s at least a little helpful.

“Are you sad?” she asks softly, and he shrugs jerkily, then looks down at her with a half-smile. 

“I dunno. Maybe?”

She rubs a small circle on his shoulderblade and he slumps a little more, sighing. 

“It shouldn’t bug me; it’s not like Wayne’s still here. But this was our place, at least since my dad dumped me here.” 

“He dumped you?” Chrissy echoes, before cringing a little. Not the most tactful reaction.

“Eh. I was, what, five? Six? Old man finally got wise to what I am when I sneezed and set his shorts on fire.”

“He didn’t know?” Chrissy asks, surprised.

“Nope,” he says, popping the p. “Must’ve come from my mom’s side, and she’d died a couple of years earlier. Surprised us both.”

“Oh,” she says, soft. 

Eddie shrugs under her touch. “It’s alright. He left me with Wayne, which was probably my best case scenario for not turning out a complete shithead.”

A very tender spot under her breastbone makes itself known when she lets herself imagine it—a frightened little boy who’d already lost his mother, losing the only other parent he’d known for reasons entirely out of his control.

She’s never met Wayne Munson, but she feels a sudden, fierce gratitude for the man Eddie loves so much, who’d kept him safe when his own father wouldn’t. 

“You’re only a little bit of a shithead,” she says instead of saying any of those things that hurt, and Eddie lets out a startled laugh, wrapping his arm around her neck in a headlock. 

“Takes one to know one, Cunningham.”

“I had a great teacher,” she says, wiggling out from his hold, only to shriek when he scoops her up with one arm like a football. He takes off for the front door, cackling like a madman. “Eddie!”

They leave the home in Forest Hills echoing with laughter.

[click here to read the rest of chapter three on ao3]

[iwriteasfotini]

Major Jegulus Fluff and Sap

323 words of excerpt below my little commentary.

Feeling generous and just so impatient to share the more mature years of the story. You all don't know it yet, but I am a sucker for super sappy Jegulus. Like so sweet it might turn your stomach. Just wait...

What I'm posting versus what I'm currently writing and editing is like two different worlds. So here is some of a future installment which hasn't even been announced yet. O.o

Reg POV, sixth/seventh year

...

“Yes, I love healing with you.” James walked to the toilet and started to pee, Regulus left the door open as he walked to the kitchen. 

They lounged about, James telling Regulus stories. Then Regulus told a few of his own. He told James about the night they met on the astronomy tower, how he was already head over heels for Sirius’ best friend, James Potter. How James had grabbed his hand and Regulus felt truly seen by someone for the first time in years. 

“I used to take certain routes between lessons because I’d cross your path,” admitted Regulus. 

James laughed, “didn’t people think that was strange?”

“I was usually alone, no one even noticed. Including you.”

James gave him a mild look, “I started falling for you the day we crossed paths on the quidditch pitch. You were such a snarky little bitch. I loved it.”

“I saw you on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters when I was ten. You were running through the crowd laughing and I thought you looked so free.”

“I was so nervous my first day,” said James. “I covered it all up with exuberant behavior.”

“Does that imply you are actually an anxiety ridden wreck and cover it up with general arrogance?”

“Aṉpu,” said James, hand over his heart, “of course I’m an anxiety ridden wreck. Half of my heart is walking around outside of my body.”

“You know how it feels then?”

“To see you and feel like I was holding my breath. To feel my heart restart when I catch a glimpse of you across the great hall. To know that I’m the only one who knows all of you. Yeah Reg, I know how it feels.” James wove their fingers together.

...

I mean is this cruel to share knowing the work isn't going up on Ao3 for a year... SO MUCH to share before then. Including all those little moments the boys alluded to. ;-)

Check out my pinned post for more info, currently posting year one of this epic series!

iwriteasfotini on Ao3

PS My beta reader (and partner) who is cis, straight, white, and mid-thirties says my Jegulus scenes often invoke eyerolling for him. "Here we go again." Fuck yes, here we go again. And again. And again! Never too much sappy Jegulus. XXXXXXX

PPS It should speak volumes he's willing to plow through those lovey dovey Jegulus moments for everything else I'm bringing in this series. Brace yourselves people, shite's going to get real!

[galadhir]

i think that there was a fanwriter named Nemis that wrote a lot of fics about E/C? i liked those fics!

My memory has never been good and after 20 years away it's completely unreliable, but still, that name rings a bell. I vaguely remember her being a nice person that I was aware of but never really interacted with because our areas of interest didn't quite intersect.

i hoped the show would give some spot to Celebrian … and instead. lol.

Indeed! I can just picture the show writers turning their noses up at the thought of writing Galadriel as a mother. She can't be a mother! Whoever heard of a mother being interesting? No one would think it was cool for Galadriel to be an actual queen and seasoned diplomat and seer, with a husband and a child.

Not to mention that Celebrian can't be interesting at all because she dies as a damsel in distress, so she must be a wimp all her life (ignoring the fact that everybody dies in distress.) People can't imagine that her life could have been interesting before that :( Sexism and failure of imagination again.

it would be interesting to see if anyone else had my idea … of course i have not read all the Galadriel/Celeborn fics out there so if someone has those, feel free to drop!

LOL! I'm sorry to end up dropping my own fics on you, but it sounds like you might enjoy my Oak and Willow

(Ignore all the tags, they were auto-imported from Henneth Annun when that archive backed up all its stories on Ao3 and then shut down.) And you can probably ignore chapters 1-4 if you're just in it for the C/G romance. They are world building for Doriath and setting up Celeborn's position in his home, with Thingol, Melian, Luthien and Daeron.

I originally started out intending this one to be a Sindarin history of the world, from the rising of the sun and the moon. But it rapidly became the story of C&G in the First Age. If I had known it was just going to be their love story against a backdrop of the events of the First Age, I might have left off chapter 1 at least, as that was setting up something I didn't actually write in the end.

But it is more or less what you're talking about. So if you're interested, you might like it :)

oh that's interesting, may i ask if it's still online? my beef with peter jackson started muuuuch later with the hobbit movies, but i like to see how other people reacted to the LOTR trilogy when it comes out

Yes, Battle of the Golden Wood is on Ao3 too - also imported from HASA (Henneth Annun Story Archive, which was the place to post elf fanfic back in the day.)

I agree with you about the Hobbit movies! Way too much bloat. There was the occasional nice thing in them - I enjoyed seeing Beorn's house and his bees, for example - but almost everything that PJ put in was grotesque and unfunny and unnecessary. The Hobbit would have made one great film, but there just isn't enough story in it to stretch to three.

as for what you say … i think that that's the current approach of Warner Bros, with its War of the Rohirrim stuff or whatever. i'm not enthusiast about it at all and i would probably complain about it too,

I know what you mean. I'm not enthusiastic either about a Rohirrim spin-off because it seems like they've picked the most low-effort story imaginable. Yes, you can use props from The Vikings and Game of Thrones. You can probably crib story lines from Bernard Cornwell's Anglo-Saxon stories. Have we not seen enough pseudo-early-medieval stories already?

I would have liked to see something we haven't seen before! (Which doesn't mean I won't at least check out the first season. But my hopes are not high.)

i do not want to be mean but btw i do have the feeling that a lot of rop fans are mostly migratory dark romance fans

Oh, the Reylo folks from Star Wars? That would actually make an awful lot of sense. They certainly behave like them. I managed to avoid them by being in the Kylux fandom at the time, and the Kylux fandom was numerous enough to just block them all and carry on doing our own thing regardless. Also a good time :)

it's lowkey … limitating? flattening? because neither galadriel nor sauron fit into this archetype and i do think that forcing them in this dynamic … just doesn't make them sauron and galadriel anymore? but i digress

I know exactly what you mean. I've mostly spent my fandom life in slash (m/m) fandom and there is a migratory slash fandom which is the same. If a pairing gets big enough then the msf will arrive and reduce it to a set of tropes and stereotypes, and then move on to the next big thing as soon as it arrives. In that case, you just have to wait for the next big thing and hope there is someone left still writing to pick up the fandom once they've gone.

Yeah at this point i do honestly wish that everyone can write its own retelling of lotr and publish it.

At least there is the opportunity for us to do it in Ao3, even if we're not allowed to make money on it. We can do it for love :)

Hoo, boy. I am definitely going to unfollow the Celeborn tag again, since it's full of Haladriel shippers arguing that Celeborn stans are harassing them.

I'm not getting into whether that's true. I have no interest in Rings of Power, and as far as I am concerned, Halbrand does not exist in Tolkien's world. I can't be somewhere where people mix Amazon's fanfiction with actual lore.

Also ship wars are not for me. I was a massive Celeborn defender during the release of the movies, and I wrote several novels worth of fanfic then. I think I'm spent.

Still, as a Celeborn fan I thought the Celeborn tag would be a great place to go to find stuff about Celeborn. How could I have been so foolish!

My poor lad! Not even his own tag is about him. Which is exactly what I should have expected, now I come to think about it.

[saphscorner]

a pixian drabble? cottage core? pretty please?

anything for you pookie 😍😍 (and also anything for #pixianrevolution2023 ;D) we recently had the first snow here, so i went with some wintery vibes! word count: 801 words pairing(s): pixlriffs/grian warnings: none general tags & vibes: domestic fluff, winter, cottagecore

With the days growing shorter and the nights colder, winter was fast approaching. Grian readjusted his scarf over his nose and mouth, long dead leaves crunching under his boots as he walked. He came to a stop at the woodshed, admiring the piles of firewood stacked high from floor to ceiling. With a cold winter incoming, his and Pix’s work from over the summer should surely pay off to keep them warm in the coming months.

For the first time that season, Grian pulled on his leather work gloves and began to stack firewood into the wheelbarrow, piling it high before setting back in the direction of the cottage. As his scarf slipped below his mouth, he watched as an exhale of his warm breath billowed into the frosty air. 

It really is that time of year, he thought. 

Grian finally parked the wheelbarrow outside the back door to the cottage, then collected as much of an arm load as he could carry before heading back inside. 

Warmer air and the smell of simmering root vegetables greeted him as he made his way inside. He hadn’t realized how dark it was becoming outside until the warm light from the kitchen spilled onto the front porch. He paused to wipe his boots on the doormat, kicking them off and leaving them by the door. “I’m back, Pix!” he called as he headed into the living room. 

The sound of running water from the kitchen came to a stop, followed by some shuffling as Pix appeared in the doorway to the living room. “Welcome back,” he said.

Grian smiled as he set the pile of firewood into the hearthside log holder, then stood back up to go give his partner a kiss. 

Pix hummed, smiling into the kiss as he pulled away after a moment. “You’re freezing.” 

“It’s cold out!”

Pix reached down, taking Grian’s hands to ease his gloves off, laying them down over the back of the nearby sofa. He brought one of Grian’s hands up to his own, kissing the backs of his knuckles. “Good thing we’ll have a fire tonight. And a good warm meal, dinner’s almost done.” 

“You’re spoiling me, Pix.” Grian leaned up to press another kiss to Pix’s cheek, before taking his jacket and scarf off and returning to the hearth. “I’ll go ahead and get this started. Do you mind grabbing me the matches?”

“You mean these?” Pix pulled the matchbox out of his pocket, giving it a shake before tossing it over to Grian.”

Grian’s smile widened as he caught the matches from him. “You always are thinking ahead, huh?” 

Pix just shrugged. “Dinner in here tonight?” He asked. 

“Sounds perfect.” 

With that, he returned to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. 

Still smiling, Grian shook his head. He set the matches down on the hearth, before retrieving a large basket of fire starter and kindling wood from the mantle. He arranged dried pine needles and small sticks into a careful teepee, striking a match to set the structure alight. He then piled on a couple logs, brushing off his hands and putting the kindling basket back up on the mantle. Once the fire was steadily ablaze, he took to putting away his outerwear and tidying the living room up for dinner. 

Once dinner was ready, Pix brought everything into the living room on a tray as promised. He laid out two steaming bowls of stew and two cups of tea, then took a seat on one of the cushions laid on the floor. “Nice fire,” he commented. 

“Nice dinner,” Grian complimented in return, sitting down across from him. 

Pix smiled. “I feel like winter came so much sooner than last year.” He nodded vaguely towards the window, the view outside nearly pitch black. 

“I know,” Grian agreed. “I mean, this feels more like January than November, right?” 

“Yeah,” Pix agreed. “I’m not mad about it though, we worked hard all summer and we’ve got more than enough to last us comfortably through winter.” 

“Speaking of which, is this from the peppermint we dried last month?” Grian took a sip of the tea Pix had brought out for him. 

“It is. I haven’t tried it yet, is it any good?” 

“The best I’ve ever had.” 

Pix took a sip of his and then nodded. “I think you’re right.” 

Grian settled in, sitting cross legged as he unfolded his napkin. “Honestly, there’s something so cozy about all this,” he said after a moment, “I love the summer, but there’s just something about this time of year.” 

“There really is,” Pix agreed. “Especially spending it with you, I’ve got nothing to complain about.” 

Grian smiled and took his hand from across the table. “I think we’re in for another good year, Pix.” 

“I think so too, Grian.”

[ryssbelle]

Poppy for N2 au, it took me so long to make her design cuz I didn't really know what I wanted to do only because I feel like her design is pretty perfect.

But then I just thought about fun outfits to give her or outfits that I would find comfortable if I was wearing them and it all came together.

Poppy here is pretty much the same as here movie counterpart, as nothing really changes on her end of things other than having more insight on Branch through his brothers, and through Lief. Shes also a bit more understanding a bit earlier on because of it but it doesnt do much to change her own character arc I would say.

Bonus

Part of Poppys design was based off a design I had made for previous rulers of Troll Village/Tree

Namely Queen Protea who I designed as Poppys grandmother

Named after the Protea flower which part of her design is based off :D

In the context of this Au Protea was the one who conceptualized the tunnels while her son, King Peppy, was the one to follow through after her death