#just know that all those peeps do be showing up in this fic

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

So I

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your casual arrangement turns a bit too serious.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

There’s a knock at the door. You huff as you don’t need to look through the peep hole to know who it is. No buzzer but he always finds a way. 

You pick up your phone and open the chat, ‘told you I’m tired.’ 

The little check mark flicks down. Read. No reply comes, only another knock on the door. 

‘Long day.’ You send another message. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

“You really want me to knock the door down?” Bucky chuckles through the wood. 

You inhale and roll yourself off the couch. You drop the phone on the square end table as you pass and drag your feet to the door. You lean on the inside and yawn as loudly as you can. 

“It’s after curfew,” you jeer. He wiggles the handle. “Go home.” 

“You’re gonna leave me out here like a stray cat? Come on. I came all the way down here,” he pleads. 

You turn your back to the door and shrug, “told you not to. Besides, not all of us have a soft spot for alley cats.” 

“Alpine is not an ally cat. Come on, I brought beer.” 

You scoff, “thought that piss didn’t do anything for ya?” 

“No, but it makes you a lot of fun.” 

You huff and push off the door. You turn and slide back the chain. You flip the lock back and open up. You arch a brow at your uninvited guested. 

“Thank you,” you trill and grab the six pack from him. He catches the door before you can swing it shut. He tuts and steps forward, pushing his elbow into the wood until you let it go. 

“Don’t play games. You know, I can tell when you’re in need of a good fucking. You don’t send any emojis.” He snaps the door shut behind him as you retreat with your prize. 

“Or maybe I was trying to get you to stop texting so I could enjoy my new toy in peace. Ever think of that. Sometimes It's about efficiency, not passion.” 

“Passion?” He scoffs as leans a hand on the wall and lifts a foot to undo his boot. 

“Probably not the right word for this,” you free a can from the plastic rings and shove the rest in the fridge. 

“You and your goddamn toys. Let me guess, this one has blue tooth.” 

“Does yours?” You strut out of the kitchen and flick his arm in passing. 

“No but it’s got all the features you need and you know it.” He taps your ass before you can elude him. 

You crack the can of beer and take a deep gulp. The TV continues to blare the reality show retrospective you’ve been feeding your time to. You flop on the couch and sigh. You suck down the grainy brew and swallow a gulp before it can escape your throat. 

Bucky looms behind the couch and grips the back. He leans over you. “How many of those until those hideous pajamas come off?” 

“Ha? What? You don’t wanna fuck me in my Spongebob jammies? They’re vintage.” 

He snorts, “you really are good a killing the mood, aren’t you?” 

“You’re a real Squidward sometimes, you know that?” You slurp another mouthful. 

“I have no idea what that is,” he says flatly as he tickles along your shoulder. 

You hate it. You hate him. Just a touch and you’re ready to go. Minutes ago, you were ready to pass out but now you’re wide awake. And fucking horny. 

“BPM going up, body temperature rising,” he runs his vibranium knuckles along your cheek and you wince away from him. 

“I hate when you do that.” You pull away and stand, plunking down the can. You huff and peel off your tank top. “I have an interview for a promotion tomorrow so hurry up.” 

“Romantic? Do you still wanna use the new toy? You know I don’t mind filling your mouth when you get like this.” 

You stick your tongue out at him and point to the bedroom. He rolls his eyes and strides off. You pause the television and take another swig of beer. You need to sleep and he’s good at fucking you into a coma. 

As you reach the bedroom, he’s already naked. His broad shoulders are etched in scars, the left one mottled with aged burns along the border of vibranium. His muscles cord down along his rib cage and sides.

A year ago, you would never expect a man like this to be standing naked in your bedroom. A super soldier. Bucky Barnes. 

He turns to you and wiggles the little square between his two fingers. The wrapped condom reflects the overhead light with its flashy packaging. He flexes his chest as you reach to undo your bra. 

“Should I pop it on now or can I get a taste first?” He asks with a flick of his tongue. 

You march to him and swipe the condom from his grasp. You jab his chest and he staggers back to the bed, his legs pressing against the frame. He teeters as he smirks down at you. 

“I’ll give you a ride, cowboy.” 

He falls back and spreads his arms wide. The bed squeaks beneath his weight. You push down your pajama pants and climb over him. You toss the mattress to the top of the bed as you raise yourself on your knees, hovering over his head as his thick hair fans out beneath.

He turns to graze his beard against your thigh. You purr and lower yourself to smother him in your cunt. He hums and laps at you eagerly. 

Mmm. This is exactly the stress relief you need. 

[morgana-larkin]

I love angst for some reason, but can you write a Melissa x reader breakup fic? Where reader is in their mid 20’s and Melissa is obviously wayyy older than her. Melissa realized that they’re both heading in different paths in life and tries to gently breakup with reader, but calls her all the pet names like “kid/kiddo, young one, little bunny, etc” (this is taken from Taylor Swift’s ‘Illicit Affairs’ where she’s going “don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby, look at this godforsaken mess that you’ve made me…”)

Maybe a part two if you’re feeling up to it, with gentle smut as reader and Melissa get back together and make love again? 👀

Oh I’m definitely making a part two to this, I mean I can’t leave things with Melissa on a sad note. So I went with the nicknames hon and kid. I did ended listening to the Taylor Swift song and based some of the things off of the song. And I just gotta say that I procrastinated on doing this for 4 days straight as it hit too close to home. I called off my engagement 3 months ago to someone 12 years older than me because we were heading down different paths in life. Anyway, not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: still taking prompts peeps!

Part 2

Don’t Call Me That

Warnings: Angst and no comfort, no happy ending, may break your heart like it did for me

Words: 2.25k

You and Melissa are cuddling on the couch watching real housewives. Melissa found out you’ve never seen it so of course she had to show you. The two of you have been together for about 8 months now and never been happier.

Well, you have never been happier. Melissa was happy, but she still has so much doubt on whether or not she should have gotten with someone so much younger than her. Especially when you made comments on what you want to do with your life.

“I hope to get married someday.” You said once. “Maybe we can have kids together.” You said another time. “We should go out to a bar or a club together sometime.” You said one time. Melissa just looked at you and smiled each time but didn’t reply. Those thoughts swirl around in Melissa’s head until one day she couldn’t ignore them, you both wanted different things and she couldn’t let this relationship go on even more.

“Hey hon, can we talk?” She says to you when she visits you at your place on Saturday.

“Alright, sure.” You said, none the wiser. You and Melissa go on your couch and you face her with a smile. Melissa wishes you weren’t smiling as it makes it harder knowing that she’ll be that reason for that smile to drop.

“I don’t think this is working out anymore.” She starts and you look at her confused.

“What do you mean?” You ask and you frown.

“I mean this.” She says and gestures between you both. “Our relationship, I think we should end it.”

“Why?” You ask, concerned.

“Because we want different things in life hon. I don’t want to get married again, I wanted kids before but not anymore, and I don’t want to go to clubs if I don’t have too. But you’re young, you should have things you want and you should do it.” She tells you and you look down at your lap. She really wants to comfort you but knows she can’t.

“So that’s it? We’re over, just like that? I have no say in this?” You ask her and she looks guilty.

“I’m afraid so hon.” She says and you snap you head up at her.

“Don’t call me that if you’re gonna break up with me.” You snap and that catches her off guard. She knows you might be upset but didn’t think you’d snap at her, but she doesn’t blame you.

“I’m sorry y/n.” She tells you.

“Please leave.” You say and she nods defeatedly. She gets up and walks to the door and opens it. Before she leaves, she glances at you.

“I really am sorry.” She says and leaves. As soon as she closes the door, you get up and lock it, then you put your back on the door and slide down while crying.

On Monday you walked in the doors of Abbott and went to the break room as usual. Only this time instead of saying hi to Melissa when you pass her, you just walked right by her to the fridge.

“Hi hon.” Melissa says to you.

“Don’t call me that.” You say as you put your lunch in the fridge. Everyone turns their attention to you and Melissa as they knew you were dating. “My name is y/n.” You say to her and go to make a coffee.

“I know what your name is.” She tells you as you pour the coffee into your mug.

“Then I suggest you use it.” You tell her and walk out.

Melissa sighs and leans back into her seat.

“Trouble in paradise?” Barb asks Melissa.

“If trouble you mean broken up then yes.” Melissa says and everyone gasps.

“Omg what happened?” Janine asks.

“None of youse businesses.” She tells them and walks out. Everyone turns to Barb for answers.

“Don’t look at me, the only thing I know is Melissa broke up with y/n if their emotions are anything to go by.” Barb tells them.

Melissa tries to talk to you for the rest of the day when she gets an opportunity but you keep shutting her down.

She keeps trying every day for 2 weeks until she had enough. She got Mr Johnson to watch over her class while she goes to talk to you during your prep period.

She knocks on your door and walks in after you call out a ‘come in’ to whoever was there. When you look up you see the person you least expected, mostly because she has a class right now.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be teaching?” You tell her as she closes your door.

“Mr Johnson is watching them until I get back. I need to talk to you hon.”

“I keep telling you not to call me that! And the last time we talked, you broke up with me so I don’t really want to talk to you.” You told her and she sighs. You get up and go to bring a stack of papers to the back of the classroom.

“I know but I’ve been trying to at least be friends with you like we were before we started dating because I like our friendship.” She tells you as she follows you to the back and you whip around to face her.

“Friends? You think I would want to be friends with you? Melissa, do I need to remind you that you broke up with me and didn’t even bother talking about it with me? You just made the decision on your own.” You grit out.

“It was the best decision.”

“For who exactly? Cause it sure wasn’t the best for me.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“It was for you. I made it for you so you can have the life you want. I can’t give you everything! So I let you go so you could! Believe me when I tell you that I didn’t want to break up with you! You are the best damn thing to happen to me and it broke me to let you go!” She tells you and you gasp.

“That’s the reason?!? You. Are. An. Idiot Schemmenti! Just because I may have thought about certain things doesn’t mean it’s set in stone. I’m 25 and I’m not certain about what I want to do in life.”

“See that right there is what I’m talking about. You have no idea what you want cause your life has just begun, while mine, well I’m 55, I’m going to retire in 10 years hopefully. My life is almost over.” She tells you frantically and at that Barb comes in.

“Girls, can you quiet down. It’s hard enough to teach 5 year olds how to read the alphabet as it is. It’s even harder with your yelling.” She tells you both and you look at Melissa.

“What I knew I wanted in life was you. But I guess I was wrong. You should get back to your class.” You tell her and you leave to go print something. “Sorry Barb.” You tell her as you pass her by.

Barb looks at Melissa who has a couple tears rolling down her cheeks. “Sweetheart, what were you trying to accomplish here?” She asks her and Melissa lets a sob escape.

“I was trying to be friends with her again.” She tells her.

“Melissa, you just broke up with her out of the blue. At least for her it was out of the blue. You have to give it time before she might consider being your friend again.” Barb tells her and Melissa nods.

“I know, I just, I miss her.”

“Listen I have to go back to my classroom and you have to go back to yours but how about you come to my classroom at lunch and we can talk then.” Barb suggests and Melissa wipes her tears away.

“Ok.” She says with a nod and then leaves back to her classroom.

2 months go by and Melissa has stopped any interaction with you. You still know she looks and stares at you but never talks to you.

Melissa can’t help it whenever she sees you, she never talks to you even though she wants to, she just stares at you. Her heart breaks every time she sees you.

10 weeks after she breaks up with you, your both in the break room along with everyone else. You’re talking to the trio and they ask about your weekend plans and you mention you have a date. Melissa whips her head up from looking at her phone and her jaw drops and eyes got watery.

You may not be able to see her face but you saw her whip her head up. You also see Barb looking at her sympathetically which means she must look sad right now.

You tell them your contemplating on whether or not you should go, you think you shouldn’t but Janine and Gregory tell you to go and Jacob tells you no. You go over to Barb for the tie breaker and you show her a picture of the girl, Melissa also sees the picture of her and she realises that you’re going out with someone around her age.

Barb tells you it’s your choice and that’s when Melissa pipes up. “Isn’t she too old for you kid?” She asks you while taking a bite of her pasta.

You glare at her and scoff. “I think that’s for me to decide, cause I do have a say in some things.” You tell her and she looks down guiltily.

On Monday morning you walk in the break room and the trio asks you how your date went.

“It was alright. We’re going out again this Saturday.” You tell them and you hear Melissa scoff. “Something you want to say Melissa?” You ask her and she turns around in her chair.

“It doesn’t seem you’re interested in her since you said it was alright.” She tells you.

“Well it was my first date with her and I haven’t had a first date in a year.” You say and she stands up, grabs her things and walks out. You turn back to the trio and continue the conversation. Barb follows Melissa out to make sure she’s not destroying anything or about too.

The next Monday you’re talking to the trio about your second date and you tell them that you’re not going to see her again as you’re not interested in her. You don’t see it but Melissa smiles. You don’t but Barb sure does and rolls her eyes at her.

It’s been 3 months since the break up now and you stop by quickly at Melissa’s to get a few things she recently found that’s yours. In reality, Melissa found them 3 months ago and hid them when you came to get your things so she would have a few reminders of yours but now she wants an excuse to talk to you.

The box of your things is on the coffee table and Melissa is sitting on the arm of the couch when you walk in. Melissa told you that she’ll leave the door unlocked for you.

“Are those the things?” You tell her and nod your head to the box and she nods at you.

“Ya, it is.” She tells you and you don’t really move, she sees you looking around. You usually went to her place about 3 times a week to hang out with her after school and she would make dinner for you two.

“How are you kid?” She asks you and you look at her.

“I thought I’ve told you to stop with the nicknames and use my actual name.”

“You have, but I like using nicknames for you.” Is all she says.

“Why?”

“Because I always have, I’ve rarely called you by your actual name. It feels wrong to call you by your actual name.”

“Well you might want to work on how to make it sound right.” You tell her and walk over to grab the box and she grabs your wrist and you gasp.

“You never answered me when I asked how you were.” She tells you.

“You really want to know how I am?” You ask and she nods. “I’m broken.” You told her and her eyes look upset. “You broke up with me and now I’m broken and a mess. I chose not to go on a third date because all I thought about on the two dates was you.” You tell her and she lets go of you but you make no attempt to move. You want to challenge her to something to see what she really thinks and you grab the back of her head and you kiss her. She’s stunned for a second but then she automatically kisses you back but then you pull back 3 seconds later and she looks at you shocked. “You can’t tell me that that doesn’t feel right. I may not know much about what I want in life but I know I wanted to spend it with you. I’m aware of the age gap but it never made a difference to me because I love you. I thought you loved me.” You tell her then you grab the box and leave.

As soon as you close the door, Melissa falls down on the couch and starts crying. “I’m so sorry y/n.” She sobs out. “I do still love you.”

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[ikeucity]

IKEUCITY WILL BE UNDER MAINTENANCE :(

hey guys...

so i’ve been thinking a lot about my current fics, and i really want to make them better. i am afraid to announce that some things might get revamped or changed, but it’s all for the best, trust me. i’m adding extra scenes and details to make everything more enjoyable for you. things i felt i could've added to make the world even better.

(don't worry! i will keep almost everything, as i know you've enjoyed how i write the characters and scenes, i simply want to write it better)

i want those who enjoy my stories to find an escape and be immersed in the world i've created with my works, thats why i love writing long ass fics. and i will continue to do so because i know it has helped me too. to just step into a different reality even if just for a moment.

i’m still continuing brought the heat back and moonstruck, but the my one-shots are getting a bit of a refresh. i know edits not showing up in reblogs is annoying, and i honestly get so pissed every time 😭

all my fics are getting a deeper, more polished version. i’ve been reading a lot and doing research to improve my writing, so expect more quality content! i’ve also created a system where, by the time i post something, there’s already another fic lined up.

what you can expect in the future is yours to wreck is getting a new spin, and i’m dropping part 3 as a gift! i’m not deleting posts—just archiving them. if something goes missing, don’t worry—the completed work will be even better.

i’ve also figured out how to make sure i have more words allowed on my posts and stay organized.

i’ll be making drabbles for fics like yours to wreck, featuring cute moments that won’t be in the plot—just a little side thing. and is something i plan to do for future fics too!

will i write requests? absolutely! but not yet, not until i feel like i've at least completed some of my series.

also it's important to know that i do love my series like akdjdjsisjs but i can't keep the series going without adding more to the plot, but you guys trust me, right?

i write fast. the reason for all of this is that i need to get better at posting finished work that i find perfect, no more second guessing. no more typos and feeling the urge to edit it or replace a few things.

i want to feel completely satisfied with what i share. if i’m calling something mid, imagine what i can do when i’m fully content with it? :O

literally, in a month, i’m gonna be raining down fics on you. the one that’s setting the tone for the kind of writing and quality you can expect is peeping tom, which i’m completely focused on right now and am receiving help from a wonderful person for it.

i want to keep my blog alive, and i need to feel happy about it. hence the changes. i hope you understand my sweets.

thank you all so much for the love and support—it means the world to me!

🖋️ love, keuri

[aceofwhump]

I haven't been able to come on here properly in SO LONG! I miss my laptop 😭😭

So my week, month, year hasn't been great. Bloody awful actually. And my energy levels are at like a 1 out of 10 right now. Hence why my presence here has been rather nonexistent. Well that and my broken laptop. How is everyone else doing? Y'all doing all right? I know things have especially been rough lately for my fellow USA peeps. That alone has had a huge effect on my poor mental state right now. Is everyone doing all right? And if you aren't doing all that great right now, I'm sending you a big hug 🫂💙

I've been thinking about things I can do on here while I save up money for a new laptop (come on black friday deals come on). No gifs and fic rec lists are easier to make on desktops than my phone so both of those things are out. What about this or that's? Pick your favorite tropes or scenarios? What if I just shared my favorite whumpy scenarios? I do have some likes to queue as well. And asks to answer. But what would you all like to see from me? Low energy things I can do.

And what's happening in the whump community right now? Tell me everything. What's the big tag right now? What's everyone watching? Has there been any good whump that I've missed because I can't seem to get myself to watch anything brand new and instead am rewatching shows I've seen 10,000 times?

Anyways, I miss you guys and I want to come back and be the bigger presence I usually am. Love you guys! 😘

[readychilledwine]

Till Death Do Us Part

SJM Villains Week - Day One - Origin Story

"Are people born wicked, or do they have wickedness cast upon them?" -Wicked the Musical

Summary - Beron had known love once in his life, and even that was ripped from him

Warnings- This fic has some heavy topics. A whole species of fae is hunted for their wings until extinction. While it is not done in great detail, if that will potentially trigger you, please consider skipping this.

Other warnings- reader Death, spousal abuse, domestic, and child abuse inferred, loss of a spouse, death of a mate, in summary, just not my normal happy love story. Edited and formated on my cellphone, long story, if you see errors, you definitely didn't 👀

A/n - Happy @sjmvillainweek day one. I was sent a request about Beron losing the love of his life being his villain Origin story. I bounced between doing this as a mini series or as a one shot, but landed on the one shot due to mini series that end with reader Death not being a personal favorite of mine, plus, writing reader's death after writing 3 parts of her and Beron falling in love was rough. If you all want it, though, let me know I guess? Today is very out of my box, as you all will see with my Maeve fic queued for later, so to those of you who frequently write reader/oc deaths, I truly admire you. This was hard.

🪽Peep the Wings of Prythian headcanons Here 🪽

🗡Villains Week Masterlist🗡Master Masterlist🗡

The stake set in the middle of the grounds was the seal on the impact of Beron's actions. 100 years, 100 happy years of keeping her safe, and now he was locked in his own room, trapped as her execution was set up. 

He should have known better, should have hid her better. Her kind was already rare and in the last 100 years, she was finally the last one. One last trophy to hunt and he had led his father right to her. 

Lifeless wings hung high on his wall, still fresh with the scent of her blood.  The luster they carried was fading, the vibrant burnt orange now a muted tone of its former glory. 

Beron put his head in his hands, the faebane chains around his wrists clanging with laughter as he did. He forced his mind back to a happier time. 

Fire Festival had you running around the small market near where the Leaf Folk lived. Mother needed flour. Father needed wine. Your sisters wanted candy. The first of October was special to you all. To your whole race. It was the start of a 31 day process where the females of your race were courted, married, and the hopes of young offspring came. .

Fire Festival was for lovers. It was for passion. It would be your first year to partake, and while you knew it took some females 3 attempts to meet their match, your wings couldn't help but flutter in hope you would meet yours this year. 

As you day dreamed, supplies in a basket, you were blind to the male watching you. An outsider that had vendors closing their doors and windows with customer's inside, mamas rushing their children into their homes.

A voice cleared behind you, pulling you from your daze, “My lady.” It was instant, that snap of the mating bond tugging and tying you two together into a cursed string. ..

The dark-haired male put his hand to his heart, blindly stepping closer to you. Dark hair sat on top of his head, styled and brushed into perfection despite the evidence he had arrived on horseback. His slender face was handsome. Sharper cheekbones, full lips, a nose reminding you of a hawk beak. His clothing was high end, hugging his body as if he was poured into the material. “Beron,” he spoke to you, ripping you from your study of his figure.

“Y/n,” you whispered back, wings moving slightly to be out of sight.

“I have no interest in those,” he motioned towards them. “Only in the rumors of elder flowers in this area.”

You blinked at him, the olive branch you were about to offer him was dangerous, “I can show you if you vow to never speak of this place.”

Beron fought against his father as he was pulled to the temple. He knew the female he was being forced to marry was nice enough, beautiful, wealthy. He was forced to stand at the altar, a knife held to his little sister's back as he did. Aurelia entered either her normal grace, her own face solemn as the fae stood and she was escorted to him by her own proud father. 

Her dress reminded him of a princess from tales of old. Far too large, puffy, and in a shade of white that did not compliment her porcelain skin and hair like fire. 

They were both silent as they took their vows and the count down to your execution began. 2 hours. 2 hours he'd be forced to spend drinking and all that did was encourage more memories of you.

The pull of the bond became too much the following October, and the letters written on oak leaves could no longer be enough for either of you.

You were taking a huge risk, using the first feast and bonfires to sneak to his hunting cabin just a few miles away from the hidden edge village you'd spent your life in.

Beron was waiting on the porch, eyes coming alive as he heard the sound of your leaf-like wings crinkling as you flew over to him. ..

He caught you quickly, arms going around your waist, pulling your head to his chest. .

The first hug of many.

The first night filled with laughter and stolen kisses that'd come with the next 99 years.

He carried your one bag, frowning at your lack of possessions.

"Is this all you have, my love?”

”All I need,” Your tone was confused. “Did you expect more?”

He had. He had expected more than just the 7 dresses he pulled out. More than the one necklace he had given you. More than one more pair of leather shoes.

Beron glanced at you, chocolate eyes slightly sad, “I'm going to give you the world.”

Beron and Aurelia watched in silence as people drank and danced. “You said you were running,” he whispered under his breath to her. “You said you were leaving to prevent this.”

Aurelia looked at him, her whiskey colored eyes narrowing, “Do you think I didn't try to get him to come grab me? Do you think I sat and did nothing despite our deal?”

He rolled his own eyes, “Careful with your tone, wife,” the word felt like ash. 

“Am I your wife? Or is she locked in the fox holes waiting to be the final show for our wedding? Who else has their marriage start with the burning of their husband's who-”

The slap that came before she could finish that sentence made the room fall into silence. Another beginning. Another drastic change. Beron knew Aurelia had sold out the location he kept you in. Her father had been the one to drag you in, bleeding and crying, dress torn. 

Beron's father motioned for the night to continue like nothing had happened, as if he was beaming with pride at his son striking his wife. 

“Just because he didn't want you after you willingly handed him your cunt, doesn't mean I didn't want y/n. I hope you enjoy both of us being as miserable as you clearly are.” 

She sat wordlessly next to him, holding her cheek. She'd been warning of the heavy hands the Vanserra males carried, but Beron had never been aggressive. He'd always been kind to her. But she knew she was you and clearly Aurelia had gotten herself into dangerous territory. 

Beron watched the clock as it ticked an hour. An hour to day dreamed about you.

The wedding of the Leaf Folk were not performed in a temple, an odd thing for Beron as he stood under the oldest apple tree in the groove. Its twisted trunk and tangled branches were almost menacing as you followed his eye. 

You took his hands, whispering in the old tongue and making the tree light up with runes and stories of lovers wed under its branches. You were the last of your kind. The village somehow found and pillaged in one night. The groove of apples around you both was struggling, dying off slowly as its caretakers became a lost memory. “What do we do now?”

"We close our eyes and feel. We will know if the land blesses our union,” you smiled as you answered, closing your eyes. Fireflies began to fill the area, a slight breeze carrying the sounds of gentle music. You both opened your eyes to the deer to the fireflies.

“What the hell,” he paused. “What is this?”

"Approval from the Mother. She has blessed and signed off on our union,” Your hand went to the new rune in the tree, eyes watering as you followed the curves and slopes. “We're married.”

Beron was forced to stand, shackled again as guards made him and Aurelia walk to where he'd be forced to watch you burn. His family and Aurelia's father too spots near them, the other High fae in attendance whispering as they also took places. Public execution in Autumn was a favorite pastime for the rich high fae. They loved watching the poor, the criminals, the low fae burn or be gifts to the trees, consumed root by root. 

His father had known that wasn't an option with you. Had he given you to the trees, the trees would free you. No true crime was committed, and on top of that, your kind was so closely linked to the trees, your life forces depending on each other. 

Beron had tried to warn his father what killing you would do, how his family would lose control of the trees and the forest, how that was a magic given to his family by the Leaf Folks elders hundreds of years ago. A promise not to hunt them, yet every Nobel here had a pair of those wings on their walls. Fresh ones. 

Beron pulled against his chains as he heard you fighting and screaming in the tongue of your people. He watched as you spit on the male dragging you, watched as you spit on his father. 

You had, in many ways, made Beron's life easier. You had killed two of his brothers during your capture, making him the clear heir. You had stabbed his father with something rumors from the healers say wasn't closing, festering in his skin and muscles like an infection. The look of pride as you looked down from your nose towards his father made Beron smirk. You'd die a warrior. Die with not an ounce of fear but instead a river of rage. 

His wife. His powerful fearless wife.

That sneer didn't change as you were tied to the stake. It didn't change as your so-called charges were read. It didn't change as you waited to be given the ability to speak one last time. 

“The last of your kind, yet you won't beg for your life?”

“No,” you answered his father plainly. 

The High Lord seemed surprised as he spoke again, “So you will curse my son to a life of madness?”

“I've cursed your son and court to so much more than that already,” you glared

It was then that Beron noticed the runes carved into your body in captivity. He held his breath as he read each one. As he read the fate your death would seal for this court and for him.

You had been lied to, told he gave away your location, that he handed you away willingly in exchange for the bride sitting next to him. All lies he would never be able to change.

It looked as if you were praying, but Beron knew the signs of Leaf Folk magic now. He knew what was happening as the wind picked up and lightning struck as your pyre was lit. 

Beron shot out of bed, shaking his head as the nightmare replaying her death was fresh in his mind. He still blamed himself, still blamed Aurelia. 700 years later and he wasn't over her. 

But how could he have been? Her curse was a plague on Autumn. A deep rot that settled into the remaining signs of her village first. Then that grove he had married her in. Then the surrounding forest and villages. It was choking off life in his court. Illness, famine, and death followed in its path.

Her curse had not just taken the forest, though, it had taken him. The lifeless mating bond was doubled by what she had down. Beron lost all sense of emotion and Humanity once she was gone. He lost himself. That much was clear by the scars littering his wife and children. By what he had done to Lucien. 

He had no one to blame but himself.

He knew she was forbidden. A female considered low fae with wings like the rustling leaves of this very court, but Beron couldn't stop himself. He couldn't resist the feel of her soft skin, her scent of spun sugar and apples, her soft hair. Her eyes were his favorite thing, so light and bright. Full of life. 

As he held his chest in bed, his sleeping wife was next to him. It was those eyes that haunted him. Those last words whispered before an execution.

“A plague on your houses, a plague on your court, until a son brave enough to kill for what's right comes forth.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[maviezz]

Mr. GhostFace

Pairing: Stu Macher × Fem! Reader

Summary: You where on a phone call with your friend laying on your bed, when suddenly you hear something stumbling behind you…

Genre: Smut

cw: fingering, knife play, stalking, mentions of murder, dubcon (lowkey)

Word Count: 2,2k

pd: this is my first ever fic, so please let me know if there’s a spelling mistake or anything, I’ll be glad to know!!

after finishing up a gruesome murder accompanied by his accomplice, Billy, Stu ended up near your place. Picture this: he's walking down the street, fleeing from the morbid crime he had just committed, and oops, there's your house all lit up like a Friday night. Curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn't resist checking it out.

Stu's not your typical guest, and you're not big on inviting folks over. No need to bother with doorbells for him. Instead, he takes the unconventional route and climbs up to your unconventionally opened window.

So, there he is, peeping through, his eyes scanning your room , then his gaze falling on your body, trying his hardest not to make any noise that might startle you. You're having a regular chat with your friend, over the phone, not knowing you've got an unexpected audience. Stu's like, "Hey, I'm just here for the show” but little do you know, he's been high-key obsessed with you, ever since he fist laid his eyes on you.

Lying on your stomach during the phone call,swinging your feet in the air while casually twirling strands of hair. Unbeknownst to you, Stu looms as a silent observer. His gaze, a mix of fascination and a hint of obsession is fixed on every animated expression. The ordinary act of twirling hair and swinging feet becomes an unwitting performance for Stu, who watches with an eerie intensity, emotions oscillating between anticipation and a peculiar connection to the conversation. The air is charged with the unspoken presence of this uninvited spectator. In an unsettling twist, Stu makes a fateful move, generating a subtle noise that draws your attention.

A sense of unease permeates the air as I detect fumbling behind my back, a shiver coursing through as the realization dawns—window is wide open. Dread takes hold; a killer is on the loose, and turning around becomes a perilous decision. Despite the inner turmoil, curiosity prevails, and I slowly shift my body and slowly turn my head back to where the noise was coming from. The visual that greets me is bone-chilling. A visceral scream tears through the air as my eyes meet those of the masked killer, an embodiment of the very fear that lurked in the shadows.

He sensed the fear etched across my face, a pang of regret gnawing at his heart. Contrary to the ominous aura, he harbored no intentions of harm; instead, a fascination with the sight of innocence under the pale moonlight took root within him. "Don't be afraid, baby," he whispered, his emotions masked by the cold exterior of his hidden face.

His tall silhouette loomed above, a revelation that he exceeded my mental image. Gradually, he eased into my personal space, his voice softening the eerie atmosphere. "No harm will come to you from me... I just wanted to get closer to my cute crush." The unexpected confession hung in the air, a disconcerting blend of fear and an oddly misplaced sense of flattery. A chill ran down my spine as his cold, gloved touch made contact with the skin on my cheek. Beneath the black robe and mask, his warmth was an unsettling contrast. Struggling to recognize his voice, an unsettling realization dawned –The psychotic killer that is terrorizing Woodsboro was inside my room, his hand grazing against my face.

"W-what do you mean? Who are you?" I stammered, the air thick with uncertainty. However, the futility of my inquiry hung in the silence; it was evident he had no intention of revealing his identity. His gloved hand traced a light caress along my cheek, savoring the softness of my skin. With audacious intent, he gently tilted my face upward, our eyes locking beneath the eerie glow of the moonlight. "Call me Ghostface," he uttered, the words hanging in the air.

"P-please don't kill me..." I pleaded, my voice trembling with fear. The Ghostface's touch sent shivers down my spine as he carefully pushed me down onto the bed, his firm grip holding my jaw. His knee positioned in between my legs created a sense of vulnerability. Although the option to run was within reach, a peculiar force seemed to immobilize me, as if my body had taken on a will of its own, drawn to the mysterious enigma of the man on top of me. The room hung heavy with suspense, the moonlight casting an eerie glow over our unsettling connection.

A devilish smile played on Ghostface's lips beneath his masked face as he sensed my lack of resistance. With a sinister grace, he pulled himself closer, a strange yet intense sensation coursing through his entire being as my delicate form pressed against him. "Don't worry, baby... I only wanna play with you," he whispered, the words hanging in the air, dripping with an ominous promise that left the room steeped in an unsettling tension. I gasped in horror as Ghostface pulled out a knife, holding it softly against my neck. "Please..." I pleaded, the dread tightening its grip on my trembling form. Slowly, he ran the blade down my chest, tearing my shirt and exposing a vulnerability that left me in display for him to feast on. A mixture of fear and helplessness hung in the air, as my breath got caught in my throat.

A shiver of anticipation ran through the Ghostface as he felt my soft skin against him. He savored the moment, relishing the intimacy, before teasingly pulling away. "You have beautiful tits” he remarked, his thumb tracing slow circles on one of my sensitive peaks, the air hung heavy with tension.

“m-mhm- fuck!” A gentle, almost imperceptible sound escaped my lips—a soft mewl—when his cold-gloved fingers delicately traced the contours of my nipple, each touch sending subtle shivers through my whole body.

The Ghostface couldn't help but express his delight through a low grunt, leaning in to whisper, “You're so captivating... I've dreamt of having you like this.'" My breath caught sharply as he violently tore apart my shirt, the fabric being tossed across the room...

“p-please don’t do this” My mind recoiled, hesitant and fearful, yet my body, in stark contrast, responded with an undeniable allure. Despite the trepidation, the man behind the mask exuded a captivating charm that stirred within me a sense of arousal, the wet spot on my panties making it impossible to hide.

He smirked behind the mask as you tried to push him away while also reacting to his touch. He slowly trailed his gloved hand down your stomach, making your skin tingle in anticipation “I won't do anything you don't want, baby." His hand found its way to the hem of your panties, slowly pushing them down to reveal your shivering and oh so damp folds. The scent of arousal was overpowering in the small room, making him even harder than before. He leaned in closer, his hot breath caressing your neck “You're so wet for me... It's like you want it."

My palms met his chest, pressing them flat against it, detecting a subtle firmness. "I'm going to call the cops," I stammered, my voice wavering. His eyes met mine as I felt the warmth of his chest beneath my hands.A sly grin adorned his lips, and he remarked, "Go ahead, make the call. But can they beat the clock?" The room seemed to pulse with tension as I hesitated, torn between the urge to reach for my phone and the magnetic pull of the man before me. His eyes held a challenge, daring me to follow through on my threat.

As the seconds stretched, I could sense the weight of his challenge in the air. The room became a battleground of wills, my hand still lingering on his chest. The unspoken tension crackled, I decided that it was best for me not to piss him off. The Ghostface smirked, enjoying your confusion. “Good choice, princess... but don't be surprised if my next move leaves you drenched." He slowly pushed his middle through your wet folds, moaning quietly as he felt just how ready you were for him. He pulled his finger out and teased your swollen clit in slow circles making it throb against his touch. A soft moan escaped my lips involuntarily as his touch sent shivers through me, his thumb pressing wet circles on my hardened nub . "F-fuck-Please don't do this," I whispered, my plea hanging in the charged air between us.

He continued toying with you, feeling your body become more and more aroused under his fingertips. He leaned in closer and whispered softly in your ear “You're such a tease, baby... making me hard for you." His voice was low and seductive as he felt your wetness begin to drip onto his finger. The realization struck him like lightning— he knew, in that very moment, that he desired you.

Flushed with embarrassment, I found myself incapable of pulling away or resisting. My pussy was glistening with my arousal, my body succumbing gradually to the allure of his touch. "D-don't," I stammered, the plea escaping my lips amid the internal struggle.Ghostface sensed your body yielding to him and couldn't resist any longer.

With a sudden movement, he slipped two long fingers into your wet cunt making you gasp in surprise. He slid them in and out slowly savoring the feeling of your warmth surrounding him. His other hand cupped your left breast, fondling it softly, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath the latex of his glove. “s-stop!” i whimpered faintly, the feeling of his middle finger inside my aching core was heady mixture of intoxication and delight sweeping over me, compelling my fingers to delicately clench the bedsheets beneath my quivering body, each thread bearing witness to the intensity of the moment.

He chuckled softly, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down on you. His fingers found your sweet spot and began to tease it mercilessly, causing your hips to buck up against him in desperation. "Do you like that, hmm?"

With a gradual nod, I acknowledged my surrender. Lost in his touch, the resistance that once lingered vanished; I no longer felt the need to push him away.

The Ghostface saw your submission and pushed his fingers deeper inside you, curling them to maximize your pleasure. Your breathing grew heavier as the sensation began to consume you, making you feel like a bundle of fire. “I'll give you what you want... just let me have my fill." He watched with satisfaction as your body arched under his touch. His other hand reached over to your core and circled your clit in time with his fingers, driving you closer and closer to the edge. With a groan, he leaned in closer, his masked face against your ear. "You're mine now”. He coos. In that shared moment of lust and pure passion, the room seemed to shrink, enveloping us in a cocoon of intimacy. We were entangled in a dance, where every touch, and every pump of his fingers inside my sopping hole spoke more than words possibly could.

“m’gonna cum~”i grunted softly, my hips bucking onto his fingers, my back slightly arching off the bed, spit was dripping down my mouth. The scene unfolded like a cliché scenario from a porn movie, akin to something you might find on a Blockbuster rental shelf—undeniably sensual and provocative. He felt your pussy clamp around his fingers as you reached the peak of pleasure.

He rode the wave with you, relishing every tremble until it slowly subsided. His eyes roved over your flushed and sweat-drenched body, making him even harder “That's it baby, cum for me." his fingers kept pumping inside of me as I milked my orgasm, my whole body shook in pleasure, soft gasps leaving my body “f-fuck…” I muttered, my chest rising up and down softly as I came down from the high of the wrecking orgasm.

He pulled his fingers out slowly, coating them with your arousal. He brought them up to his mask and breathed in deeply, savoring your scent before trailing them over your sensitive clit “You're delicious, baby."

A loud moan involuntarily escaped my mouth in response to the unexpected slap across my drenched cunt. "O-ow!" I exclaimed, the sting resonating with a mixture of surprise and discomfort.

The Ghostface's wicked laughter echoed, a chilling soundtrack to my discomfort. "You wanted it, now take it like a good girl," his words, laced with dominance, hung in the air, adding a layer of intensity to the unfolding scene. "Why are you leaving?" I questioned, the vulnerability in my voice evident, as he stood up from the bed and adjusted his robe. My gaze followed him as he walked towards the window. A smile played on his lips, but you couldn’t see it. He looked down at me over his shoulder. "I'll see you soon. Don't forget our little secret," he whispered before vanishing from sight.

Left in his wake, a mix of arousal and puzzlement lingered, the room now filled with the aftermath of an enigmatic encounter.

Confusion swept over me, grappling with the surreal reality of the town's masked murderer appearing in my room, fingering me, and then abruptly vanishing as if nothing. The experience felt terrifyingly unbelievable, leaving me bewildered in its wake.

[munsonownsmyass]

Billy Russo x reader x Matt Murdock x Frank Castle

Summary: A night out with the boys turned into something you never expected.

Notes: I was asked by a lovely anon to make a fic with Frank and Matt. Bonus if I could throw in Billy. Well, ask and you shall receive. It's the first time I've tried writing a foursome. A lot of poles, holes and peeps to keep track off. Hope i succeeded.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Warnings: Oh, where do i begin? SMUT! 18+. Exhibitionism/voyerism, fingering (f receiving, both vaginal and anal), handjobs, grinding, unprotected sex (vaginal and anal. Remember lube and wrap up irl, folks), double penetration, gay/bi sex. This is a lot, y'all.

Words: 1.5 K

It was one of those evenings that you never want to end. Scattered across the table is empty beer and wine bottles, another few half drunk. Frank is sitting in the armchair in Matt’s apartment, Matt casually situated on his lap and peppering Frank's neck with soft kisses as you and Billy were sitting on the couch. It had started as a few friends having dinner, now turned into you all being very tipsy as the evening slowly turns into night. 

As the night progressed, you found it harder and harder to keep your eyes of Frank and Matt, their touches growing bolder. The conversation had been rather normal, considering the lives you all lived, although a bit slurred by the amount of alcohol. For a brief moment, you wonder if you’ve ever seen the guys this intoxicated before or if Billy has even noticed the show unfolding right across from the two of you.  

You are not even sure Frank and Matt are aware of what they are doing. First it was just soft touches, then kisses peppered onto each other's skin, which was enough to catch your attention. But the more they drank, the bolder they became. They seem like they don’t know what their actions are doing to you. 

You can't tear your eyes away as Frank sucks gently on Matt’s neck, the look of pleasure on Matt’s face as Frank gives him yet another love bite. The alcohol seemed to make Matt lose his inhibitions, the blush on his cheeks only caused by the wine and not by the position he’s in.  

You suddenly feel Billy shift beside you. Glancing down, you can’t help but notice bulge in his pants. He does nothing to hide it, his eyes fixed on Frank and Matt. You would lie if you said you’d never thought of Billy in a sexual way, but now as you glance between his legs, all you can think about is how he was like in bed. 

You try to dismiss the thoughts as a mere result of too many beers, but you know it’s a lie. Eyes again on Frank and Matt, unable to tear your gaze away from Frank’s fingers. Slowly the fingers run up Matt’s thigh, just barely touching his bulge before sliding back down. A pattern he repeats and each time Frank’s fingers graze Matt’s bulge, he bites his lip. 

The odd thing is how casual the men are. Just sitting there with the conversation still flowing lightly as if all three of them aren’t hard.  

Without even realizing it, you had moved your hand to Billy’s thigh. When did you move it? Whether you’re affected by the show before you, the wine or simply just the intoxicating scent of Billy, you don’t know, but you slide your hand up higher. Billy seems to lean into your touch, his breathing now strained. 

At this point you’re so turned on you need a release for the ache between your legs. You let your hand wander from Billy’s thigh down between his legs, cupping his cock through the denim. He responds with a sharp intake, his eyes begging you not to stop. 

Unable to hold back any longer, Billy leans forward and claim your lips in a kiss. Soft at first, but soon turns heated as his tongue slip into your mouth. 

You melt into the kiss, letting your eyes gaze at Frank and Matt one more time before closing your eyes. They were lost in each other, all conversation now forgotten. Consumes by lust, Billy pulls you onto his lap, kissing you more passionately by the minute. You moan softly when Billy’s hands start roaming your body, cupping your breasts. His thumb rubs gently circles on your sensitive buds, making you shiver. 

As Billy’s mouth moves to your neck, sucking at your sensitive skin, your eyes wander to Frank and Matt. While you were lost in Billy’s touch, Matt moved on top of Frank, both of them naked from the waist up. Matt’s soft moans fills the air as his hips roll against Frank, a soft ‘fuck Red’ spoken in passion. 

Between kisses, Billy pulls your t-shirt over your head, exposing your soft skin to him. When his mouth latch onto your nipple, his name falls from your lips in a soft whisper. 

One hand slide between your bodies, making your shiver as his fingers touch you right where you need him the most, your panties already damp. Your soft moans now attract the attention from Frank and Matt, both of them stopping and looking at you two now. 

Frank quickly opens Matt’s pants and his own, releasing both their cocks. Holding them both in his big hand, they watch you and Billy as he pumps them slowly. They look as Billy’s fingers hike up your skirt, pulling your panties to the side and make you gasp, when his fingers find your aching clit. 

Frank and Matt can’t tear their eyes of you, seeing the way your back arch when Billy pushes his fingers inside you, his mouth capturing your nipple again. No inhibitions left, you let out a big moan, letting them all know how good Billy makes you feel. 

Frank let’s go of Matt as he slips from Franks lap. Matt kneels, pulling Franks pants all the way off, before removing his own. With their eyes glued to you and Billy, their kisses turn heated as they stroke each other, enjoying the show. 

Your hand finds its way into Billys pants, palming his hard cock. Pulling your hand out, you unzip his pants, allowing you to better stroke him. Billy groans when your hands wrap around his length, his own hands going down to his waistband, pulling his pants further down. 

You pull your skirt up higher, exposing your ass to Frank and Matt as you lift yourself up before slowly lowering yourself onto Billy’s hard cock. 

Matt looks at Frank, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. Frank just gives a soft smirk, disappearing for a second, only to return with some lube. 

Your eyes spring open when you feel a finger softly rubbing your other entrance. Looking over your shoulder, you see Matt smile back at you as his finger tease your opening. Frank is kissing Matt’s neck, looking into your eyes. They give you the opportunity to say no. But you don’t. You had never had an experience like this and who knew if it would ever happen again? So you urge Matt on with a soft moan, begging him not to stop.  

His finger slips in, causing you to whimper at the new sensation. His finger slowly works you open as you ride Billy’s cock, feeling an ecstasy you’ve never felt before. 

Matt adds another finger as Frank wraps his hand around Matt’s cock, pumping it as Matt gets you ready. Frank is rock hard against Matt’s ass, the tip leaking at the sight before him. 

As Matt slips his fingers from your ass, he feels Frank’s fingers at his own, groaning as he places the tip of his cock against your tight entrance. Gently, he pushes into you, marveling in the feeling of Billy’s cock, only your thin walls separating them. 

You whimper at the sensation of two cocks filling you, both of them pushing you closer to the edge. Frank, not wanting to be left out, pushes Matt’s legs apart, watching as both Matt and Billy’s cocks thrust into you. 

Frank push into Matt, inch by inch, feeling how Matt clench around him. He wasn’t gonna last long, the sight and noises from the others already threatening to push him over the edge. Frank stills, just for a moment, to join in the pace with the rest of you and then start thrusting into Matt. 

Slowly, as you all find the rhythm, the pace quickens, bringing you all closer to a much-needed release. One by one you come. First Billy, filling you to the brim with his cum as he gazes deeply into your eyes. The feeling of Billy falling apart for you, makes you come with a soft moan, his name falling from your lips. 

When you come, you clench around Matt’s cock, the sensation triggering Matt to come hard and that in turn makes Frank come, the sound of Matt’s ecstasy too much for him. 

The air is filled with soft pants as you all come down from your highs, none of you moving as your bodies still shiver in the aftershocks of your shared pleasure. 

Slowly, you start to detach from each other, all of the men very soft with you, making sure you’re okay. The atmosphere in the room is a bit awkward, none of you looking the others in the eyes. That’s until Billy chuckles, breaking the tension with a simple question. 

“Same time next week?” 

You all smile, not sure if you’ll ever do it again, but... never say never. 

tagging: @e-dubbc11 @itwasthereaminuteago @theradioactivespidergwen @k-marzolf @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @murdock-and-the-sea @chvoswxtch @lucy-sky @mattmurdocksscars @saintmurd0ck @idaofinfinity @fluffyprettykitty @kayhi808 @danzer8705 @sio-ina-bottle @darlingshane @anna-hawk @feelmyskinonyourskin @chellestrash @chelseasdagger @loveroftoomanyfandoms @boliv-jenta

[konigsblog]

I’d like to direct those sending hate to people simply writing dark content to holding adult video sites accountable if they want to achieve some kind of moral victory.

There have been multiple instances of sites like 🌽 hub taking genuine footage of rape/SA and refusing to remove it even when requested multiple times by the victim. Some of their heavier ‘consensual’ bondage vids etc have been said to involve deliberately pushing expressed boundaries by female actors that have do things they didn’t originally agree to for fear of loosing their job. These are real people- their experiences are REAL and have a lasting physical, social and mental effect.

Ghost, König etc are not real. Y/n, is a reader insert of course, but you are never in genuine danger. Everything you ‘put yourself’ into in these fics, can stop at the press of a button. You can hate it, hate the author and never interact with them again- problem solved (If only y’all would do that). In real life? A SA/rape survivor has lived through it, suffers from it forever and might have the disgusting burden of having to see their assaulter in the flesh at work, home etc.

To insinuate that a piece of fanfic that can be ignored, that you CHOOSE to engage with is as equally abhorrent as the real act is disgusting. It’s downright offensive. It’s a great discredit to us victims and shows you don’t actually give a damn about us at all.

You’ll be silent when it’s time to hold a harmful industry accountable/silent in the face a thousand men saying that 🌽 actresses ‘deserve it’ but will continually send hate to what is a largely femme community for typing words on a screen that you could avoid so easily. Yeah, I know why, there’s a word for it starting with M :)

On that note, most of these people are dead silent on other fandom issues which proves it’s vendetta, not justice based. They don’t actually care about making it a ‘safe place’ (which is impossible, that’s no one else’s responsibility but your own). Not a peep about racism, for example- can’t be assed making fandom more accessible and less exclusive to POC, gotta go out of their way to harass authors though!

You don’t have to like dark content, or even the authors. You can have limits, disdain bad tagging practices, question respectfully why someone might want to read/write such content, but don’t you dare use victims as a scapegoat or insinuate that you are in any way justified if you choose to harass or bully. Do better; focus your energy somewhere actually productive and deserving of criticism, or shut up and move on.

I agree with absolutely everything you said. These are the same people that consume pornography via porn sites, then sit and complain about people having rape fantasies and consuming dark fiction (key word: fiction). They care more about people's kinks and fantasies and decisions in the bedroom (where both parties have consented beforehand), then they do about the REAL rape tapes on porn sites. It's not just rape either, there's a lot of incredibly fucked-up, illegal, and sickening things on these sites that I won't get into. People have their trauma published, profited off of, and are violated for money, and these sites never take these videos down either.

They care too much about their comfort character being portrayed in a way they don't agree with to focus on the poor souls who have had their trauma uploaded online – and to make money off! Are the COD characters real, or am I missing something? They're fictional characters. Just because you don't agree with a headcannon doesn't mean that everyone else also disagrees. It doesn't determine their morality. And honestly, do I really think these hateful and spiteful people are victims of some form of assault? No, I don't. Because victims of SA/rape (who cope differently) filter things out to prevent themselves from getting triggered. I don't think that these hate anons are actually triggered by the content I upload and just want to judge others for coping differently. They just want to seem more moral – as if your mortality depends on your coping mechanisms/fantasies are. If you don't want to watch a video, you wouldn't choose to watch it anyways. You wouldn't force yourself to watch the entire thing, then come to the comment section and cry about how you're not interested in the topics featured in the video. You watching that video was a decision you made, a choice. You wouldn't take a kid to a horror film that's clearly 18+, then scream at the film directors for creating it in the first place. If you're not the intended audience, then don't stay. There is an audience of people who do enjoy dark fiction, and just because you don't, doesn't mean that it can't exist. The world doesn't only revolve around you. It's selfish and small-minded.

You get taught about fiction and non-fiction in Primary school, and yet here we are, have to tell adults (or at least people who claim they're 18+) the difference between the two. If you can't draw a line between fantasy and reality, then you shouldn't have access to the internet. That's irresponsibility. It's people wanting to be saviours, act as if they have the moral high ground because they disagree and think that it makes them a better person, when it doesn't. If anything, them constantly harassing innocent writers is worse than what they try to portray us dark content writers as. These are the same people wishing rape, death, and doxxing towards writers who have done nothing but be respectful and give out warnings before a story. Dark fiction writers have more empathy and sympathy than these puritans who think they're on top of the world for coping differently, because we actually understand that there are different mechanisms to cope after being sexually assaulted.

I will never apologise for writing what I write. I refuse to walk on eggshells around these anons simply because they can't act mature and manage their own triggers. These people won't bother reading the articles that I've linked countless times, or listen to this entire post. Because they're narrow-minded, that's what narrow-minded folk do. They don't hear other opinions or think for a second, that maybe, just maybe, they're being disrespectful. They claim we're romanticising rape by writing it, but don't bother learning what romanticising actually is. I've said countless times that rape is a disgusting, violating crime that deserves years of punishment. I don't describe what these characters do as IDEAL or something to WANT, if anything, I describe them as horrible people because that's how I see them. They're in the military for God's sake...

When they send hate to an author's askbox, do they think for a second about the effect it'll have? Victims go through years of self hatred and disgust after being traumatised, and when they find a coping mechanism, do you think they want to be told that they deserve to be raped again, or that they're disgusting, or that they're supporting the vile crime? Of course they don't, because they don't support victims at all.

These people are too illiterate to read this entire post. If anything, it'll go right through them. In one ear and out the other. Am I also responsible for the media they consume? As in, horror films? Will I hold their hand and cradle them, rock them to sleep because they don't want to take responsibility? That's life. You have responsibilities. You can't just drop them because you feel like it and then put it on a writer's shoulders because YOU weren't thinking.

And sure, I can see how dark fiction can possibly affect reality. But, that's not my responsibility. If someone is has the urge to rape someone, that's an issue on their behalf, caused by mental illness. I can't control what people do, just like how film directors can't control the effect that their work will have. If people get themselves off to my content, that's not my responsibility. Writers and film directors aren't responsible for the effect it'll have on others, because there are a plethora of factors that can change a reaction towards certain content, like mental illness, for example. Mental illness plays a huge factor.

[weebsinstash]

Alright bestie I’m on that shit again

So yandere Superman, right? Like obviously your fucked. The only other yandere in existence that might just be able to keep you from him is Batman, but even then he’d probably sooner work together just to ensure your safety- but that’s a prompt for another day.

Back to yan Superman, imagine you’re his darling and he is “keeping you safe”. But one day, you get snatched up by some organization that wants to use you as leverage or some shit, but you are just sobbing in relief at maybe being free- only to have Superman show up and do some not so super things to everyone who “stole” you

There are just so many casually horrifying things about Superman that people don't realize until you start like digging into his lore. "Oh he's super strong and a super fast flyer" actually he can do basically anything at those super speeds to the point he can literally even PROCESS THOUGHTS at near light-speed which means he has Absolutely Terrifying reaction times and can make plans and schemes on a dime, which, you know, can be even better utilized by him being intelligent. He has natural invulnerability so if you throw a punch at him too hard you could literally shatter the bones in your hand and he can't even control that, like you could literally hurt yourself with him on accident! He can see across INSANE DISTANCES and his x-ray vision doesn't have like a set range so he could do anything from, peep inside buildings to spy on you, to looking under your clothing for any bruises or injuries or even self harm marks, to peeking behind your hero disguise to learn your true identity, to seeing if there's anything inside your stomach and seeing if you're eating properly. Like jesus christ he literally found out Lois was pregnant from waking up one morning and suddenly hearing the heartbeat of the FETUS, there's literally nothing from him pulling that stereotypical "I know you're nervous or lying or afraid because I can literally hear your heartbeat increase" scary bullshit

And let's talk about Lois for a sec because my god her death was literally what kicked off the Injustice timeline? And there are other forms of Superman media where she just straight up dies naturally of cancer! Sure we could take the easy way and say "in this au Lois never existed or was just Clark's friend and he loved YOU" (which is my preferred default tbh bc, no competition for Reader lol) but I mean if you're going for that angst, that real whump, a yandere Clark Kent that just lost his wife/unborn child to either the Injustice incident or cancer, now overcome with grief? And in those cancer timelines they usually already have a son, Jonathan, and sometimes Jordan, and here's Clark thinking, well, his boy needs a mother, and he's got these weird feelings for you, and lil Jonny clearly has affection for you, maybe bring a bit of a platonic yan himself who sees you as either a big sister or even a secondary mom, so... be his wife maybe?

Like my god if Reader somehow helped him through the grief of losing Lois and managed to avoid "fully activating" Superman's anime villain arc, like he's going full fascist in the Injustice 2 Bad Ending, then some shit DEFINITELY goes down when Reader gets taken away. It just reactivates all his trauma. No! He can't lose anyone else! Jonathan can't lose anyone else! You're not just someone he loves, you're his FRIEND!

You're just huddled in whatever cell you've been kept in with your black eyes and bruises and knuckles bloodied from trying to fight back when you hear Clark's voice and you look up with excitement that just falls immediately off your face because holy shit did he just unlock that thumbprint scanner with a severed arm, and suddenly you're realizing there are other shades of red on his costume and dripping from his fingers

I can only imagine like, ngl I considered a sequel to my fic Doubt where Reader escapes the manor and runs into Supernan as the only other person who can protect you, so here we would have the inverse: you're the only one who knows about Clark's increasing instability and, while you still have your own freedom and autonomy, try to speak to Bruce about it, and now you have Batman Vs Superman: Competing For Your Heart Edition. I can only imagine what sort of unhinged reactions there would be if you think you've got Batman alone and you're beginning to cry all "Bruce I'm really worried about Clark, he isn't acting like himself, there's something wrong with him" and. Clark is like literally using his x-ray vision to read lips through the walls if he can't use his super hearing to outright eavesdrop.

Of course as you suggested, I'm always a slut for ideas with"oh shit I ran to this guy to help me and he's ALSO crazy, now they're teaming up and I'm in some weird shared/poly situation with TWO nutjobs". Lmao you go to Bruce concerned about Kal and Bruce goes to confront him and Clark just drops "did you know Y/N has been hiding self harm cuts under their hero suit also wow they smoke HELLA weed and im worried about their lungs and all the stuff they do when they're alone that no one else knows about 🥺" and suddenly here's Bruce " thanks i hate this actually :)" and there's a scheme concted to spy on you or move you elsewhere.

I've even thought of "Reader oh nooOoooOo, that, giant monster or villain attack or whatever also coincidentally destroyed your shitty little apartment complex? You mean Clark 'accidently' got sent flying into your building or smacked some giant creature into it and now you don't have a place to live? And you're broke too? Oh no 🥺 Well, BATMAN has this nice big house with lots of room in for you to stay toooootally 'temporarily', we PROMISE uwu"

Batman is the one who can put a tracking chip injected into your skin or even disguised as a filling in one of your teeth, and Superman is the one who can zoom off to rescue you/retrieve you "faster than a speeding bullet". I think one of the only people who could bring them down together at that point would be like. Fucking DARKSEID and, Jesus no, you definitely don't want HIM treating you as a pet 😭 the evil Batman that was brainwashed by him in the Apokolips War movie was scary enough (and scary HOT, lmao, let him keep me as some sort of prize and the only luxury Darkseid will allow him as a reward for his obedience. Lord Batman goes from having a meeting talking about like enslaving people to returning to his quarters and railing tf outta you because he's still holding onto some slim vestiges of humanity where he cares about you but also using you as his personal anti stress fuck toy)

[kingkatsuki]

kaji is just so quiet, even with friends and i just.... and still i think that boy has zero shame. like you show up at his place to help with homework, and get angry bc he is playing videogames and not giving you attention!!! when you complain, he pulls you into his lap and just...... uses his free hand to drag your panties to the side and tease you until you are weak in his arms. its only hOURS later that you check your phone and sakura sent you a message letting you know the guys were on a discord call when it all happened </3 poor kid cant look into your eyes for days after it and screams at kaji in front of everyone bc "TURN YOUR FUCKING MIC OFF IF YOU ARE BUSY DAMN IT"

Screaming because I basically wrote this entire fic already with Bakugou these concepts are like a drug to me.

The most infuriating thing about it is just how easily Kaji has you coming undone for him. He’s not even paying attention to you, his fingers click clack across the keyboard almost aggressively as he manages to dominate the game one handed— and it’s not even his dominant hand. That hand is reserved for your cunt as he buries two fingers inside your fluttering hole, curling them to press against the spongy spot inside you he knows better than the back of his hand.

All you have to do is sit back and take it, your legs spread across muscular thighs as your head falls back against his shoulder. Lips wet against the side of his throat as you whimper and whine directly into his mic—

And what’s worse is he can hear the guys complaining on the call. Suo asks whether you’re enjoying yourself, Kiryu questions whether you even know the microphone is on because you’re being so noisy, Tsugeura is begging Kaji to turn his webcam on and Sugishita’s fingers against his keyboard have become far more aggressive. Soft grunts spill from his lips as he tries to focus on the game in front of him, and ignore the pretty sounds that are playing through his speakers. Enomoto is the meanest about it, telling Kaji he should be focusing on the game, and that he’s letting the team down— even though he’s winning, and Kasumi sends a string of random emojis in the open chat as he ends it with the wet symbol. And there isn’t a peep out of Sakura, although his character in the game died within the first 30 seconds of you whining through the microphone. “Turn your freaking mic off if you’re gonna— do that—”

But Kaji is focused, and intent on his goal as he continues to land kill shot after kill shot. All while keeping his fingers persistent inside your cunt. The palm of his hand rough against your clit as he buries his digits as deep as they’ll go, practically coaxing your orgasm from you as he feels you go lax against him as you cum with a desperate whine of his name.

“So fuckin’ needy.” Kaji murmurs against your temple with you limp on his lap, pulling his soaked fingers from your spent cunt as he crudely wipes them against your shorts. Ignoring your whine of irritation as he moves both hands to his keyboard to finish the game.

You’re about to drift off when you hear him tell them he’s logging off, exiting the game as he scoops you up to bring you over to his bed. His cock still desperately hard as he throbs with need and he slides into your body with minimal resistance as he prepped you well, all warm and ready for him as you try to stop yourself from falling asleep.

And you know Sakura holds this inside him for days after, letting it fester in his mind as the heat rises in his chest whenever he so much thinks about it. But of course he doesn’t tell anyone that he’s been rock hard picturing what you looked like on the other side of the screen when you were making those noises, and that he can’t get the sound of them out of his head. Shouting at Kaji for not turning his microphone off like he hasn’t been fucking his fist raw to the thought of you like that for the past week.

[wildlife4life]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

*A nylon gloved hand reaches out of a dark hole that smells like toothpaste and medical grade cleaner. In its trembling fingers is a wrinkled torn out note page. At the top there are crossed out chart notes and below that are the words NFL Buck snippet*

I LIVE!!!!!!!!! What up my buddie peeps? Making a surprise NFL Buck tidbit drop between studying and having my fingers in people's mouths (I am not a crazy person, I am in Dental Assisting school and doing my clinical rounds). The writing beans woke up for once and I had to share! But this does not mean a new chapter is going to drop any time soon. I am nearing the end of my schooling, on top of being a mom and running a household, so the time to actually sit and write, and have the writing beans working is very rare these days. BUT! NFL Buck is still in the works and another chapter is coming, just need to be patient with me. To those who are being patient and have stuck around for this fic, thank you.

Tagged by the super lovely and super talented @spaceprincessem. I am ever patient and beyond excited for your upcoming mockingjay buddie fic!

"Drinks are on me tonight." Eddie states firmly before Chimney could finishing reaching back for his wallet. The older man looks back and does a mental count of everyone that came along after their very rough shift and can't hide his small wince, "You sure Diaz? Including Athena, thats 10 weary firefighter bar tabs you'll be covering." And Chimney knows better than most how much just one thirsty civil servant can put away, let alone 10. Eddie shrugs one shoulder and gives him a small smirk, "Oh yea. I mean technically drinks are on Buck tonight, as thanks for saving me after the whole 'reckless spider-man' routine." His right hand throws up air quotes while his left is pulling his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. Gifting an expensive coffee machine for the firehouse was one thing and knowing the basic financial logistics of Eddie's upcoming birthday golf trip was another. But having the funds on hand for an on the whim night out with several thirsty hard working men and women, was tipping onto the side of skeptical. And Chimney needed to voice it. "Doesn't he have an expensive birthday trip for you to save up for?" Chim quirks an eyebrow. The Texas native's smirk broadens. Instead of vocally answering him, Eddie opens his wallet and pulls out a fucking black American Express card. Chimney's jaw literally drops, as the bar lights reflect off the silver EDMUNDO DIAZ stamped at the bottom. Next to him, Hen audibly gasps before quickly collecting herself and shouting out, "118, drinks are on Diaz!" And is immediately met with loud hollers and cheers. Rich man Diaz laughs loud and reaches past a still stunned Chimney to hand the prized card to the wide eyed bar tender. In a hook and ladder joint, a card like Eddie's has probably never even come close to even the block of the bar and Chimney's only seen a black Amex in movies and tv shows. "No restrictions." Eddie tells the bar tender, "And I'll start with whatever IPA is on tap." He looks back at Chimney, "What'll have Han?" And folds up his fucking Burberry leather wallet before sliding it back into his back pocket.

For those who are not familiar with this fic, please go check the first two chapters of Three Taps for the Lombardi. All other snippets and posts for NFL Buck can be found here. Warning, there are a lot! Hope you enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure!): @hippolotamus @dangerpronebuddie @daffi-990 @tizniz @rainbow-nerdss

@elvensorceress @monsterrae1 @eddiebabygirldiaz @lonelychicago @spotsandsocks

@diazheartsbuckley @diazsdimples @exhuastedpigeon @cal-daisies-and-briars @watchyourbuck

@glorious-spoon @prosperdemeter2 @bekkachaos @tidesreach @kitteneddiediaz

@eddiestummy @aroeddiediaz @lemonzestywrites @bi-buck-coded @lover-of-mine

@beyourownanchor6 @honestlydarkprincess @bucks-daddy-issues @inell

@pansysgothgf @smilingbuckley

[morning-star-joy]

look at us, you and I, back at it again

a stranger's heart without a home Chapter 7

Pairing: rivals to friends with benefits Joel x F!Reader, Post-Outbreak

Chapter Summary: You and Joel fall into a new routine of stress-relief, but run into a slight mishap when Dina invites him and Ellie to your game night.

Chapter Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) Unprotected p in v sex, Rough Sex, Language

Wordcount: 8.8k

A/N: Chapter 14 is up on ao3 now! Thank you guys for all the support you show this fic <3

chapter 1 || chapter 6 || chapter 7 || masterlist

ao3 link

You did, in fact, have sex with Joel Miller again.

Both of you deserved at least some credit for prolonging the inevitable for as long as you could; the entire week after the night you went out for drinks was spent carefully avoiding each other. One of the only times you nearly ran into Joel was when you happened to be walking down the same street as him. When you saw him, and realized that you would end up crossing paths, you quickly spun around and sped-walk in the opposite direction, causing Dina to do a confused U-turn and run after you.

You could feel him watching you as you walked faster, trying to outrun Dina’s questions on what was wrong with you while also trying to forget the feeling of his eyes on you as you walked an unnecessarily longer path to your destination, just to escape having to potentially confront him.

Tommy’s exasperation at your antics around Joel had returned, and he wasn’t shy about expressing his frustrations about what he described as a “rocky relationship” you had with Joel.

Little did he know how vast of an understatement that was.

“But you were getting along so well when we went out for drinks!” he had protested when you ate breakfast together with him and Maria on one of those mornings when you couldn’t use your own kitchen, due to the dreams of Joel that had woken you up.

You had shrugged, not meeting his eyes as you shoveled the scrambled eggs into your mouth. Tommy and Maria’s was supposed to be a safe haven to escape thoughts of Joel, not a place to be bombarded with questions about him.

“Alcohol makes you do crazy things,” you had murmured, the words not at all a lie. In fact, they rang a bit too close to the truth, and when you dared to look up, you saw Maria analyzing you closely, which made your eyes dart away.

One week later, you were still doing pretty well avoiding Joel, until you saw your patrol assignment.

You were sure that Tommy and Maria had the baby routine well practiced by now, and you thought that Tommy would’ve been back to patrolling, taking his place as Joel’s partner again. But your name was still listed next to the older Miller brother’s, and you stomped all the way to Tommy’s to confront him.

He had been holding a peacefully sleeping baby as he grinned at your irritation.

“Oh, our little Hope has been such a rascal lately.” Tommy’s grin had grown as your frown deepened, the baby girl in his arms not making so much as a peep as he spoke. “Maria needs all the help she can get.”

So then you were back with Joel on patrol, riding in awkward silence by his side as you tried to pretend you hadn’t crossed the line with each other again.

You were doing pretty well, in your opinion. Avoiding looking at each other, not daring to say a word as you got to the spots where you had to check for Infected. There were only a few Runners to deal with, and you both fell easily into a learned professionalism as you took care of them quickly and efficiently. 

For a while there you were actually foolish enough to think you weren’t going to act on that impulse of desire you felt around him again. But when you were safe at the outpost for the route, the two of you all alone inside four secure walls, it only took a quiet groan as you absentmindedly stretched your sore muscles for him to be on you again.

Joel had pushed you against the wall and fucked you there, fast and hard, your gasps and his grunts echoing in the safehouse along with the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin. No words were exchanged as he mercilessly thrusted into you until you came, and he followed soon after, his release dripping onto your stomach from where he had pulled out and pressed himself against you.

“Never again,” Joel had grunted as he left you panting against the wall, and you pulled your pants back up as he went to sign your names in the logbook.

Your eyes had raked down his figure as he bent over to write the notes of your patrol in the log, a smirk growing on your face that you quickly wiped away when he turned back.

You only lasted a few days before the next time.

It had been late, and you were trying fruitlessly to get a wink of sleep, the thoughts of fucking Joel for a third time while on patrol too vivid, too alluring to forget. When you had finally given in and slipped your hand between your legs, a knock sounded on your front door, making your hand snap back as you jolted out of bed.

You answered your door in just a camisole and thin sleep pants, not needing your robe as the spring days were becoming warmer in preparation for summer. And there was Joel, leaning against the top of the door frame, his gaze defeated while he watched you stand there, licking his lips as he tried to find the words.

“I…”

He had trailed off, shaking his head as you smirked and took a few steps back, wordlessly allowing him in. Joel followed you inside, kicking the door back closed behind him before he descended upon you.

You collapsed on your couch after he bent you over the side and fucked you against it, the smell of sex strong in the air even as the sounds of moans and furniture scraping against your wooden floorboards with the strength of Joel’s thrusts into you were gone.

“Never again?” you had beaten him to it, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes as he zipped his pants up.

Joel didn’t look back at you as the front door closed behind him.

Two days later, when you sank down onto the floor in his entryway after not even making it into the living room, you opened your mouth to tease him about his denial again when he interrupted you.

“If we’re going to keep doing this,” he started gruffly, his voice thick and rough from sex as he tucked his dick away, “then we need some set rules.”

You laughed as you shimmied your pants back up, your head that was resting back against the wall lazily rolling to the side so you could look at him.

“Okay, shoot,” you said casually, too relaxed from the fuck to argue. And a part of you was even curious to hear what he had to say.

Joel glanced at you, the lust clearing from his gaze, which became sharper as he regarded you. His eyes darted between yours, as if he was trying to find a hint of judgment from you, a reason to withdraw his offer at continuing this...whatever it was. But when he saw no harsh discernment in your gaze, he began to lay out his proposition for rules.

“We do it at night, and we do it in Jackson,” he stated bluntly, leaving no room for argument, and you arched an eyebrow.

“That kind of sounds like two things to me,” you smirked as you couldn't hold in the snark, rolling your eyes at the hardened look he gave you before you sighed. “Alright, what’s the second rule?”

“Nobody can know,” Joel said seriously, his gaze becoming more severe as you laughed. Maybe he was thinking that this had been a mistake, that you weren't taking it seriously and he should just kick you out now, as he repeated harshly, “Nobody. Especially not Tommy.”

“Well I fucking knew that,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. You don’t think you could look Tommy in the eye if he ever found out that you were his brother’s new fuck buddy. “Third rule?”

“Nothing personal,” Joel said stiffly, his eyes so intense, so severe that you couldn’t look away. “No taking off more clothes than necessary, no bedrooms, no ki—”

“No kissing, yeah, I know that one,” you rolled your eyes, though you didn’t make any comments on how adamant he seemed about that last rule. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Joel affirmed, giving a sharp nod of his head as he watched you closely. 

Probably trying to gauge your reactions to his rules. Maybe hoping you would deny them, so you could go back to being in denial about this new weird development in your relationship, avoiding each other until you ended up falling into each other’s arms again.

Instead of prolonging the inevitable any longer, you shrugged a shoulder, a smirk playing on your lips.

“Sounds good to me.”

Avoiding each other was not a part of the established rules of casually fucking Joel Miller, but you found yourself naturally doing it anyway. During the day, you wouldn’t go to places that you knew he usually haunted. Then when night came, you would wonder if he would come visit you; and if he didn’t, whether you wanted to go to him instead.

Sex with Joel became a pattern, a sin you typically committed at least once or twice a week. It seemed to be an act more common after one of you had a particularly long or tough day, but you could only gauge a bad day for Joel if a scowl more intense than usual was on his face. You never talked about it, or about anything for that matter; you always kept the rule of nothing personal as you worked out your stress through finding pleasure in the simplicity of fulfilling a carnal desire.

And it was actually working. You started to feel more relaxed than you had in months. It’s not like your depression magically disappeared because of good dick, that would be fucking ridiculous, but you were less tense. You found yourself able to fall asleep and stay asleep easier when your thoughts were lazy, muscles relaxed from a good fuck.

Tommy was none the wiser, which came from good ol’ Rule #2. You and Joel ironed out how to greet each other simply without showing any hints of your secret deal. While it was obvious that Tommy wanted you and Joel to be the best of friends, he eventually settled for what he saw as you tolerating each other’s presence.

“I just think you would really get along,” Tommy would huff quietly after his prodding to try and get you to open up to Joel—his wording, not yours, but the irony of it was not lost on you—got him nowhere. “You’re more alike than you think.”

He wasn’t wrong. You had seen those hints of similarities between you and Joel before. But even if you wanted to delve into that, the rule of your arrangement that Joel was most adamant about forbade any kind of personal conversation. He’d show up on your doorstep and you’d silently let him in, get a quick fuck, then watch him rush back out. And because of your rules, everybody was none the wiser.

Well, everybody except for Dina.

She was suspicious, you could tell. The teenager was so good at reading people, it was almost scary. And she knew you well, probably better than anybody except for Tommy, which made keeping her in the dark about your arrangement with Joel even harder.

Luckily, Joel wasn’t around you enough for either of you to give any telling signs that something was up between the two of you. Dina didn’t know Joel had anything to do with your slight shift in attitude, she just knew that something was up. Because not only did she know you almost as well as the back of her hand, but she also had a damn sixth sense for any relationship changes in Jackson.

And she was staring at you now, eyes narrowed and locked with yours from across your coffee table.

“I know what you’re hiding,” Dina said menacingly, and your eyes squinted further at her, your mouth set in a firm line.

“I don’t think you have any idea what I’m hiding,” you said slowly back, not flinching or giving any hint away with your face as she watched you closely for any of your tells.

You continued to stare each other down, a silent battle to get the other to back down first, to show your hand and reveal your hard-kept secrets. 

After a prolonged stare down, when neither of you wavered and you decided it was finally the right time to act, you slapped one of the last cards in your hand down on the table, and Dina groaned.

“No!” she screamed, throwing her hands up in the air, a few of the cards still in her grip going flying with the motion. “No!”

You laughed maniacally, the card that would let you choose the color and make her pull four cards facing up towards you both on the top of the pile. Your smirk was smug as you watched her realize that she was going to lose.

“Uno,” you enunciated the two syllables slowly, and she glared vehemently at you.

“God dammit,” she muttered, slapping her hand down on the deck and drawing four cards.

“Aren’t you going to ask what color?” you asked cockily, waving your last card towards you to fan your face, a posh action worthy of your status as the inevitable victor of this Uno match.

Dina’s glare worsened, and you would almost be worried she was actually mad at you if you didn’t know how well she could act by now.

“Just get it over with,” she muttered, and you grinned as you slapped your last card down on the large pile.

“Blue, bitch!” you cackled, shimmying your shoulders in a victory dance as she flung her cards at you one by one, and you laughed with a wince when one of the sharp edges got too close to your eye.

Dina couldn’t resist joining your laughter for long, the sight of your silly dance too stupid for her not to cackle at. The two of you dissolved into a fit of giggles, grinning at each other’s silliness as you leaned forward to collect the cards.

“One more round?” Dina asked for what was probably the fifth time that afternoon, not counting the other games you had been playing, and you sighed as you glanced towards where the curtains were pulled back from your front window.

“I—”

You cut off, eyes widening as you realized that the street lights were on outside, and stars were shining up in the dark sky. Blinking rapidly as if daylight would come back if you just blinked enough, you stared at how night had already fallen in Jackson, before jerking forward to tidy the cards and shove them back in the box.

“Hey, isn’t it a school day tomorrow?” you asked, closing the box as Dina arched an eyebrow at your renewed energy to pack up the games you had been playing all afternoon and, apparently, into the night.

“It’s a Friday,” Dina said slowly, eyes narrowing as she watched you shoot subtle glances towards your window. “That’s why I’m here? Friday game night, no lessons tomorrow.”

Shit, you thought, standing swiftly as you moved around to try and nudge Dina out of her seat.

“Yeah, well, that also means we got combat practice tomorrow,” you said hurriedly, though Dina resisted being pushed out of her seat as she stared up at you. “You gotta get some sleep before I kick your ass.”

“You’re acting really fucking weird,” she accused, still not budging as you started to tug at her arm, trying to pull her to her feet.

“What? I’m perfectly normal,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as she raised both her eyebrows at you in disbelief. “I’m always normal. Nothing is wrong with me, ever.”

Okay, you were officially making this way worse than it was. You didn’t even know if Joel was going to show up tonight.

Maybe he wouldn’t come. Maybe you were just overreacting, and everything would be fine—

A knock on the door interrupted your internal attempts to reassure yourself, and you froze.

Dina glanced towards the front door, visible from where she sat in the living room, before looking back at you. You returned her stare blankly, still holding onto her arm even though you weren’t tugging at it to try and get her to leave anymore.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” she asked slowly.

You shook your head, giving a frown of forced indifference even as you internally panicked about what the fuck, fucking fuck, how the fuck were you going to get out of this?

“Nah, it’s probably not important,” you forced a casual tone as you dropped her arm to place your hands on your hips.

A knock sounded on your door again after the unconvincing words, louder this time, and you resisted the urge to shift under Dina’s narrowing gaze. You kept staring at her, completely expressionless as her dark, inquisitive eyes kept darting back and forth between you and the door.

You huffed, cursing yourself internally because even though you could ignore it all night, you knew that the longer you delayed, the harder Joel would knock, and Dina sure as hell wasn’t going to leave until she saw who was showing up at your house so late. In fact, she may just get up and go answer the door herself if you didn’t do it soon.

“Okay, Dina,” you emphasized her name loudly as you turned to slowly walk the short distance to the door. You continued to speak louder than normal, hoping your voice would carry through the walls so Joel could hear it from outside. “I’ll get the door!”

Dina’s arms crossed as she watched you stop outside the door, a hint of amusement in her eyes as you just stood there, making no move to answer it like you just claimed you would do. Prolonging the inevitable, once again.

“Then open it,” she said simply, waving her hand towards the door in front of you.

You spun around, cursing fate even as you sent one last wish that it wasn’t Joel towards the higher powers who you doubted even existed, and you pulled open the door.

Yeah, no such luck.

Joel froze on your porch steps from where he had been trying to make a quick getaway, wheeling back around to face you when he heard the door open. He looked more taken aback than you had ever seen him, and you were sure you probably had an identical look on your face as you stared at each other.

Fortunately, the front door opened in such a way that it blocked the both of you from Dina’s view. You and Joel continued to stare at each other, trying to have a silent conversation with your eyes about what the fuck you were going to do to maintain Rule #2, when Dina called from the living room.

“Who is it?” she asked as you heard her finally stand from her seat. 

Panic made you blurt out the first thing you could think of before Dina could come around the corner, not wanting her to catch you and Joel staring each other down before you could come up with some kind of excuse for why he was at your doorstep this late. Even as no excuse would probably be good enough for the inquisitive teen, and you were almost certainly fucked.

“Oh, hey, Joel!” You forced a grin, and Joel’s alarmed gaze narrowed into a glare as you faked a cheerful voice. “Yeah, I got those tools you were asking for earlier. I’ll go get them for you.”

Joel nodded, leaning back on the balls of his feet, as if he was still ready to bolt from where he stood on your porch steps.

“Great, I’ll just wait here then,” he said flatly, a casually indifferent tone that he used with most people. It was a voice that he still directed towards you on most days, so it wasn't too suspicious.

Either the mention of his name or the sound of his voice seemed to summon Dina instantly. The girl was too curious for her own good, and she zoomed towards you so fast that you didn’t even realize she had approached until she was behind you, peeking her head around the door under your arm that was still holding it open.

“Why, hello there, Mr. Miller.” Dina grinned, a devilish look in her eye as you spared a hard glance down at her.

Dina ignored you easily, continuing to smile cheerfully at Joel. The man looked more stiff than you had ever seen him, and that was saying something. He looked blankly down at the teen, and you shifted slightly on your feet, an action that pulled Dina’s attention back to you, her smile slowly shifting into a smirk as she had the guts to look smugly up at you.

“Well, I’ll just grab those tools then—”

“Come in, Joel!” Dina interrupted you as she beamed at the gruff older man, and he tensed even further as you looked back at Dina in poorly concealed shock at the abrupt invitation. “We were just playing some board games!”

Joel’s gaze darted back and forth between the two of you, his mouth dropping open as a sound of hesitation left it, and you would’ve laughed at the rare sight of his absolute uncertainty if you weren’t both caught in such an unfortunate predicament.

“Uh—”

“Actually,” you forced a laugh, your hands coming down to grab Dina’s shoulders, holding them tightly even as you shook her gently. “Dina was just leaving.”

“Nope!” she grinned, laying her classic Dina charm on thick as she rocked back and forth on her feet, as if she couldn’t contain her budding excitement. “I wasn’t. We still need a rematch.”

You opened your mouth to say something else, to try and interrupt whatever dastardly plan you could see forming in her quick-witted mind, but she beat you to it.

“Oh, I know!” You winced at the joyful exclamation, already not liking where this was going. Even though she hadn’t revealed her line of thought just yet, you knew it would be detrimental to your secret, and you were right as turned back to Joel and said brightly, “Joel, you should go get Ellie! We can all play a game or two.”

You slowly turned back to Dina to stare down at her, the fake smile frozen on your face, the look now more akin to a grimace directed towards the teenager.

“Uhhh—”

“Dina,” you interrupted Joel’s continued unsure hedging noises, your smile becoming more forced, more intimidating as she smiled brightly up at you. She was faking being oblivious, but you knew better as you said slowly, “I think Joel just wants his tools.”

In the blink of an eye, Dina's attitude shifted. Her smile was still wide on her face, but her eyes became deadly serious as she looked back at Joel.

“You’re not getting your tools if you don’t join us,” she said, her tone merely matter-of-fact as she glanced between you and Joel. “I know where everything is in this house. And I will hide those tools somewhere neither of you will find them ever again if I don't beat your asses at Monopoly right now.”

Silence fell between the three of you, with only the faint sound of insects chirping outside to break it. It was a standoff now, each of you silently contemplating a way to get the others to back down, to get what you wanted.

You and Joel wanted the same thing: to get the fuck out of this. Dina, bless her nosy adolescent heart, wanted to trap you in the same room to figure out what was going on between you. You knew this, even if Joel didn't.

But even as you tried to come up with any excuse to poke holes in this sudden invitation towards Joel fucking Miller to your reoccurring game night, you knew deep down that Dina would not back down until she got what she wanted. Maybe Joel knew this too, judging by the hesitant look he shot towards you, even as it was gone in the blink of an eye.

Nobody dared to make a move.

And then:

“I’ll go get Ellie,” Joel muttered, turning to descend the rest of the porch steps.

Dina’s smile brightened as she clapped her hands together in excitement, and you sighed.

This was going to be a long night.

Joel hesitated with his hand raised, cursing himself and the situation he had somehow gotten himself into before knocking on Ellie’s door.

“Hey kiddo?”

There was no response at first, and Joel was all too ready to retire back to the solitude of his room, satisfied to say he had at least tried with the minimal effort he had given, when the door swung open and shattered his hopeless dreams.

Ellie stood on the other side in a simple baggy shirt and sweatpants, her ponytail messy and eyes heavy with sleep, like she had just woken up from a nap.

“What’s up?” she yawned, tired eyes questioning as she looked up at him.

Joel shoved his hands in his jeans as he leaned back, deflecting from the question by replying in what he hoped was a casual tone she couldn't see past, “You’re gonna mess up your sleep schedule if you’re napping this late.”

Ellie rose her scarred brow as she rubbed at the sleep in one of her eyes.

“Who says I wasn’t going to sleep early?” she shot back, her wit not dampened even as she was still half-asleep.

Joel arched his own brow, nodding slowly at the comeback. 

“Touché,” he murmured, glancing away from her. He was still trying to find a way to get out of the situation, to come up with some excuse not to return to that house, when her voice pulled his attention back.

“Joel?” His eyes snapped back to Ellie as she held back another yawn before asking again, “What’s going on?”

“Oh,” Joel looked down at his feet, tapping the ground with the tip of his boot as he shrugged. “Uh, your friend wanted to play some board games with you.”

When he looked back up, he saw the sleepiness on Ellie’s face had faded, a puzzled look taking its place as she frowned at him.

“My friend? Who?”

Joel cleared his throat, looking over her head at the posters of outer space and old, probably dead musicians that had quickly taken over her walls since Ellie had made the garage behind his house her own little home to live in.

“Uh,” Joel blanked for a second, trying to remember the girl’s name, but that damn woman’s face was swimming in the front of his mind until he managed to mentally shove the image away. Finally he remembered the name, and he said quickly, “Dina.”

Ellie blinked in surprise, a look Joel couldn’t recognize flashing across her face before she frowned deeper in further confusion.

“Why is Dina asking you if I’ll play games with her?” she asked slowly, her words full of apprehension and a hint of the teen’s trademark sarcasm Joel had not only gotten used to, but grown fond of. “Are we eight years old?”

“No, she was—” Joel cut himself off, waving his hand as he tried to find the right words. “She was with her friend.”

Ellie stared at him blankly, but Joel swore he saw a faint bit of amusement in her brown gaze as she watched him struggle to explain it to her. It wasn’t often when Joel had a hard time finding words, and it seemed like she was getting a silent kick out of it.

“Y’know, Tommy’s Firefly,” he finally said, wincing internally as he referred to her as a Firefly as he suddenly remembered her resentment towards the group. For all his lack of caring, he should at least respect that and find another way to refer to her.

It took another moment before recognition lit up in Ellie’s eyes, her mouth forming an “o” shape before she frowned again, still confused and asking more never-ending questions that she apparently needed answers to, answers Joel was not willing to give.

“And why were you talking to her?” There was definitely undeniable amusement in her voice now, and Joel huffed.

His foot started to tap impatiently against the ground as he avoided the question by asking gruffly, “Are we going to go play games or not?”

Ellie leaned back, her amusement now obvious in the way her lips twitched into a familiar smirk, and she lifted her hands in surrender at his biting irritation.

“Alright, just gimme a moment to change,” she sighed before closing the door.

Joel frowned, not understanding why Ellie couldn’t just go in what she was already wearing. The teen had never really cared about her appearance before, so why would she care now?

He busied himself with looking around the yard, listening to the quiet hum of insects and the gentle spring breeze rustling through the leaves of nearby plants until Ellie stepped back out, her loose shirt switched for a longer-sleeved red one, her sweatpants exchanged for worn jeans.

“You look nice,” Joel tried to compliment, and Ellie gave a pfft sound at his awkward attempt as she rolled her eyes.

“Shut up,” she muttered, shoving her hands in her pockets as Joel began to lead the way back to the house he had visited far too often in recent weeks. 

While the situation was…less than ideal, to put it simply, Joel was secretly grateful to have an excuse to spend some time with Ellie. His relationship with her had become strained at best since returning to Jackson. It pained him, to feel her slowly slipping away from him, even as he tried desperately to hold onto the bond they had forged between them.

He knew that the situation with the Fireflies had not been easy on her, even as she didn’t know the truth about it. Or at least, Joel didn’t think she knew the truth. But there were times when Ellie looked at him in a certain way, like she had on the hill above Jackson when she told him to swear he told the truth, that spoke to a deeper part of her that knew. That deep down, she was aware it was a lie. 

Still, she never confronted him on it again. They fell into an awkward normalcy, with her living in his garage instead of the house, so he would have to seek her out for a minute or two of her company, which he would. He always would. Joel would go to her, armed with a couple of bad puns in the hopes of making her crack a smile or, if he was exceptionally lucky, laughter that she barely seemed to have in her anymore.

While it pained him to see Ellie be this shadow of her former self, there were moments when he was nearly overjoyed to see the old Ellie peeking through. Usually those moments were spent in the company of her friends, especially the one that they were going to play games with tonight. So while the circumstance would no doubt be awkward at best, Joel couldn’t find himself being too mad at the opportunity it gave him to spend some time with Ellie.

As if she had been thinking along the same lines as him, Ellie finally spoke up to break the tentative silence that had fallen between them on the walk to House 27.

“Why are you coming?”

Joel’s steps nearly stumbled at the sudden blunt question, but he quickly steadied himself. Clearing his throat, he glanced away from Ellie’s cautiously inquisitive gaze to look down the dark residential street.

“Dina invited me too,” he said with a shrug, still avoiding Ellie’s gaze even as he could hear the frown of confusion in her voice when she spoke next, not needing to look at her to know it was there.

“Okay…” Joel thought that would be the end of another short conversation between them, but then she spoke again, “You still didn’t tell me why you were there, though.”

Joel’s head turned from her completely now, so she couldn’t see the awkward anxiety her line of questioning prodded from him. He observed the line of houses they walked past, the windows all dark at this time of night, contemplating what to say that would assuage the girl’s persistent curiosity.

“I needed to borrow some tools,” he finally replied, grabbing at the excuse his—the woman had given for Dina to hopefully believe. Which he was sure the teen didn’t. “They were playing games, and your friend invited us to join them.”

Ellie hummed beside him, and Joel resisted looking back at her, because he could tell just from the short sound that she didn’t believe the excuse either.

Fucking hell, how did their second rule come under fire so quickly?

“I’m surprised you went to her for tools,” Ellie said innocently, but Joel could hear a familiar underlying tone to it. One that told him that she was egging him on now, trying to get him to admit to something. She probably didn't know what his admission was, which gave him some relief, but he knew that she could tell there was something. Something he didn't want to tell her, and she was determined to find out what it was. “I didn’t think you even liked her.”

“I don’t,” Joel said too quickly, and when Ellie snickered, Joel finally looked back at her in sharp exasperation. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Ellie replied casually, shoving her hands back into the pockets of her jeans as she glanced away from him. Joel had a feeling she wasn’t done barraging him yet though, and his suspicions were proven correct when she turned back to him a few seconds later, a sly look glinting in her eyes. “Just thought it was weird, you going to her for something, of all people.”

Joel huffed, glancing away from her as his brows furrow, a frown forming on his face.

“Tommy wants us to get along,” he finally muttered, kicking at a loose rock on the ground as they walked. Now that wasn’t a lie, even as the next thing he said was. “Figured I’d make some sort of effort.”

Ellie hummed in response, and nothing was said further on the topic. The pair continued to stroll towards their destination in silence, one that felt more content than before, more similar to the atmosphere they used to have between them before everything went wrong.

And in the peaceful quiet of the Jackson night, with the previous topic still hanging heavy in the air, it didn’t take long for Joel’s thoughts to turn towards the woman he couldn’t seem to stay away from.

He held back a sigh of exasperation when the image of her flashed in his mind. Joel had really thought he could keep himself away from her, and he couldn’t help but wonder how things would’ve been different if he had just resisted the urge to visit her that cold, lonely winter morning. Thinking back, he couldn’t even figure out why he had done it. Probably just a kneejerk reaction from the stress of the argument with Ellie the night before that, and the tempting allure of a hot cup of coffee.

Definitely not the promise of sex the mysterious woman’s words had slyly held, and the need for even a brief moment of release that it offered. But even if Joel had shown up on her doorstep with the best of intentions, everything went south the moment she actually let him in.

Now he just couldn’t seem to get enough of her. He thought that disliking her, that being jealous of her relationship with Tommy and holding disdain for her history as a Firefly, would erase that inexplicable pull he felt towards her. But that moment he had seen a crack in her armor on their patrol to the ski lodge, when she had shown signs of a lingering fear that he knew all too well from his own first-hand experience, he found himself slipping again.

Joel didn’t really know that much about the ex-Firefly, even now. In reality, he only knew three things about her.

For one, he knew that she hated the Fireflies. Whatever she had done for them, whatever crimes she had committed, now paled in severity in Joel’s mind when compared to the trauma she seemed to harbor from it. So the biggest difference between them—a rebel idealist versus a cynical smuggler—was erased when he realized that she wasn’t really that freedom fighter he had assumed she was at all. As it turned out, she seemed to be just as much of a cold realist as him.

He also knew that she could spit more venom than the deadliest rattlesnake. Sometimes it was biting, as it had been when they argued in the ski lodge. Other times it was more of a snark, poking fun at him or teasing those few people he had seen she was fond of.

And that was the last thing he knew. That for all her carefully constructed walls, there were at least two people who had found their way into the fortress of her heart: Tommy and Dina.

As frustrating as it was, Joel found himself actually understanding her when it came to that. When she had admitted that Tommy was her lifeline at the lodge, it was like the entire way he viewed the aggravating woman shifted. Because Joel had also found a lifeline like that, one who was walking beside him now under the Jackson streetlights.

His gaze shifted to Ellie, who had stayed quiet during their walk to House Number 27. Joel had been broken and numb, harboring an aching wound that had only continued to fester for twenty years until Ellie came along. It wasn’t until he met her that he found something worth living for again, instead of simply surviving.

In the back of his mind, Joel’s thoughts shifted back to that day in the park, not long after they had returned to Jackson. He remembered Ellie smiling brighter than she had in weeks when watching the butterflies with Dina, and how the sight had made his heart swell with happiness.

He also remembered how the woman at his side had also looked at the teens in fondness, and how she had frozen when he had given in to a rare bout of curiosity and asked if Dina was her sister.

For a moment it was like the ex-Firefly had been lost to the world. Her eyes stopped tracking what was in front of her, instead gaining a far-off look as she saw something else. 

Or, if Joel knew well enough from his own experience, someone else.

“Ellie!”

Joel turned, seeing the young burst of charisma and energy that was Dina waving with both arms from the porch of House 27. He glanced sideways at Ellie to see she was smiling softly, returning the wave with a small one of her own. Joel opened up the gate of the fence for her, letting the teen walk through to get to her friend, before he looked up.

Leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and silhouetted by the light in the hallway behind her, was a familiar, annoyingly attractive sight. Joel bit back a sigh, shoulders hunched forward as he met her eyes for a split second before following Ellie up the path, not able to help thinking that they were in for a very long night.

“And I believe I win again,” Dina sang happily as she counted her pile of fake money with far too much glee, and you sighed with a roll of your eyes.

“You’re cheating,” Ellie accused, eyes narrowed as you snapped your fingers and pointed at Dina, nodding in agreement with the accusation.

“I agree,” you said, and Dina scoffed as she sat up straighter, her own eyes narrowing at the same time yours did. “You are absolutely cheating, because nobody wins at Monopoly two times in a row.”

“Nobody plays Monopoly two times in a row,” Joel spoke up for once from where he had been awkwardly sitting on your dining room chair that Dina had pulled over for him, begrudgingly playing along with the games all night. “Nobody sane, at least.”

“Do we look sane to you, Mr. Miller?” Dina asked pointedly, and he fell silent as he looked between the three of you.

The silence was very telling, and the two teenagers burst out into laughter as you couldn’t help but quietly chuckle along, amused by their amusement alone.

When you looked back at him, you swore you saw the hint of a smile on Joel’s face, but he quickly glanced away towards your fireplace, effectively hiding any expression that he might have let slip on his face from your observation.

“Okay,” Dina grinned, tapping her fingers against the board, the movement making the pieces rattle as she asked cheerfully, “one more round?”

“Dina,” you groaned, your head turning to look at the clock on your wall, which you gestured to with exasperation. “It’s, like, three AM.”

“And?” she drawled slowly, as if she wasn’t seeing your point, and you sighed before leaning forward.

“And if you want to spend your entire Friday night playing Monopoly multiple times, you really are insane,” you teased, making both teens laugh again as you rolled your eyes with a huff.

Despite being tired, it was heartwarming to see the two girls interact with each other. You were right in thinking that Dina would be able to pull Ellie out from behind the walls she had built around herself, at least a little bit. Seeing Ellie laugh and joke more than she had in months made the unexpected direction the game night had gone in worth it.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dina drawled, shooting you a smug smirk, “I forgot that you old people needed to go to sleep at, like, 7:00.”

Joel’s brow furrowed as Dina cast a glance towards him with her cheeky remark.

“Why am I grouped into that?” he asked, and Dina and Ellie exchanged a look before bursting into laughter again.

“Joel, you’re like a fossil, man,” Ellie cackled at her own joke she made at the older man's expense, and Dina doubled over as she laughed harder.

Even you had to smother a snort behind the back of your hand, not a sound that went unnoticed judging by Joel’s sharp, unamused glare in your direction. It was a look that only made you snicker more, the sound obscured into your hand as he shook his head at your apparent amusement before looking away again.

“Dina,” you began slowly once the laughter died down, turning to the teen with a raised eyebrow as she faked an innocent look towards you. “We still have combat training tomorrow, remember?”

“Ah, shit,” she sighed, collapsing dramatically in her chair, and you half-expected a ‘woe is me’ monologue before she hopped to her feet. “Alright, alright, fine. Lemme just get some water first, I’m thirsty.”

Dina stopped to grab a surprised Ellie’s hand, tugging her along as they disappeared into your kitchen. Even with them out of sight, the sound of Dina’s chatter and Ellie’s quiet laughter every now then carried back into the living room where you leaned back into the couch with a sigh. 

While your usual game night with Dina had gained two unexpected guests, you were genuinely surprised by how much fun it had turned out to be. Even Joel’s sour expression the entire time hadn’t been able to dampen the mood.

But even with his grumpy attitude, there were moments throughout the games when you saw a fondness break through Joel's stoic features, when he would lean forward to help Ellie with a game. There were a few times where he quietly explained a rule she didn't understand, or subtly murmured a good move for her to make. And when Ellie would emerge victorious with glee shining on her face, a proud smile would turn up the corner of Joel's lips, and even though it was small, it spoke volumes to how much the girl meant to him.

An eye peeked open to glance at him now, seeing that the surly survivor had stood and moved to lean against the mantle of your fireplace. You pushed yourself to your feet, slowly moving next to him, leaving a good amount of distance as a buffer between you while Dina and Ellie’s laughter rang out from the kitchen.

“She’s a good kid,” Joel said from your side, and you turned with an arched brow at the comment, surprised that Joel was attempting to make conversation.

“Yeah, Ellie’s great,” you nodded with a genuine smile, the sentiment not faked in the slightest. You didn't know Joel and Ellie's whole story—or any of it, really—but they clearly meant a lot to each other. And in this world, that was enough to mean something. That was enough to hold on to.

There was a hint of pride in Joel’s shift in his stance as you praised Ellie, a light that sparked in his eyes for just a moment before it disappeared, and he shook his head at your statement.

“She is, but I didn’t mean her," he replied, and you frowned at him in confusion, not understanding what he meant before he clarified, “I meant Dina.”

“Oh,” you said softly, glancing back towards the kitchen where you could hear lighthearted giggles again, and you smiled fondly. “Yeah, she’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

A moment of silence fell between you. Not unusual, and you figured the short conversation was over, until Joel spoke up again, his voice somehow softer this time.

“You’re doing a good job with her.”

You blinked, looking back at Joel in surprise you couldn’t conceal even if you wanted to. The sincerity of the words took you off guard, and you felt an emotion you couldn’t name swell in your chest as you quickly looked away. You didn't want him to see whatever look was bleeding into your expression at that moment, didn't want him to notice whatever parts of yourself were emerging from the depths of your subconscious as you kept your head down.

“Well, I can hardly take credit for that,” you finally muttered quietly, shrugging one shoulder even as you stared at your feet.

Joel’s own shrug brought your attention back up to him.

“Maybe,” he assented, looking away from you. You figured that was all he was going to say before he added quietly, “Still, you mean something to her. So you’re doing something right.”

You were staring back at the ground even before you felt the familiar weight of his gaze on you again, stunned into silence at the unexpected, considerate sentiment that you never would have thought him capable of.

Dina and Ellie’s return cut off any further conversation, and you straightened from where you were leaning against the fireplace along with Joel. He glanced back towards you before heading out with the teens, taking the time to assure you that they would get Dina home safely, and you gave a rare, thankful smile as you closed the door behind them.

When you turned back around, you saw that sitting on the fireplace mantle, in the spot Joel had glanced at before moving towards it, was a framed drawing you knew well.

Spinning back around quickly, you walked into your bedroom, cutting off any further, unwanted thought spiral in your mind so you could escape reality for dreams. 

You could only hope that those dreams would be kind tonight.

As time passed, and spring transitioned fully into summer, Tommy went back to patrolling with Joel. You were a bit startled by how much you had to readjust when you returned to patrolling with Eugene or Jesse, not realizing that you had gotten so used to Joel being by your side when outside of Jackson’s walls.

Still, even the shift in patrol partners didn’t stop your arrangement with Joel. You found yourself going to him, or him coming to you at least one or two nights a week, losing yourselves in the familiar chase of pleasure only found in sex.

You told yourself it was an escape, an outlet, and that it didn’t matter that Joel was the person you were doing it with. 

Even as you kept finding yourself going back to only him.

You collapsed on Joel’s chest, head falling against his shoulder as you shivered from the aftershocks of an orgasm, even as he continued to buck up into you. The overstimulation made you moan, fingers curling around the lighter t-shirt he had exchanged his flannel for, biting your lip as you heard him grunt loudly before pulling out, his hot cum shooting up to land on your lower stomach and inner thighs.

His panting caused his chest to rise and fall rapidly, your head moving with it as you listened to the fast thrum of his heartbeat. Your face had fallen against his neck, and you inhaled the earthy scent mixed with sweat from your strenuous activities before you pulled away.

Pushing yourself up, you sat on the edge of your couch. His cum was still dripping down your legs as you stretched, shifting over to one side as he pulled his legs back and turned around to face forward.

You went about your usual silent routine of cleaning yourselves up, replacing what little clothing you had removed in order to get the act done as quickly as possible. So when Joel’s voice rang out while you were in the process of fixing your hair, you nearly jumped in surprise.

“Tommy’s going to ask you to come to dinner,” he grunted as he zipped his pants back up and fixed his shirt, and you looked over at him in apprehension.

“Huh?”

Joel fixed you with a blank stare at the totally eloquent sound you made that you blamed fully on the haze from the sex afterglow.

“Tommy,” he said again, his head dropping back against your couch cushions as he ran a hand over his disheveled, ash gray curls. “He’s inviting you to this dinner he’s having.”

You blinked, not sure where this topic had come from, and still surprised that Joel was actually talking to you after sex, something that he never did.

“Okay,” you said slowly, shifting your body so you were facing Joel more, a sign that you were listening to what he had to say. “What about it?”

“He’s inviting me too,” he grunted as his gaze moved away from you at your renewed attention to him, like he didn’t want to acknowledge your presence after what you had just done, though that wasn't new.

Joel pushed himself up to his feet, moving to where he had kicked his boots off by your front door—a habit that he had gotten into ever since your game night with Dina and Ellie a little while ago.

“Who else?” you asked, turning around to drape your arms over the couch as you watched him, and Joel shook his head.

“Nobody,” he replied as he laced his boots back up, pushing himself back to his feet with a grunt as he finally looked back at you. “Just us, him and Maria.”

“Uhh,” you forced out a laugh with a shake of your head, “yeah, that’s not gonna work.”

“It has to,” Joel said bluntly, his face devoid of emotion as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall in your entryway. “He’s not taking no for an answer.”

So he’s tried to say no, you thought somewhere in the back of your mind. You wondered how many times exactly Joel had tried to get out of it, before you flopped back onto your couch with a sigh, deciding that it didn't matter.

“Alright, fine,” you muttered as you stared up at the ceiling, accepting it only because you knew that if Tommy's heart was set on this dinner, there was no way either of you could get out of it. No matter how much you wanted to. 

There was a beat of silence when you were waiting for the door to open and close, but the sound never came.

You frowned, about to call out Joel’s name or push yourself up to look at him. But when you opened your mouth, you finally heard the sound of your front door swing open and shut, and only then did you allow yourself to relax.

Sinking back onto the couch, you let the sweet post-fuck bliss wash over you and carry you into a happily dreamless sleep, trying to escape your dread for this dinner with the Miller brothers that was on the horizon of your future.

[popcornforone]

Unspoken

A Silva Fic

Day 4 of Pedrotober

Masterlist

When I did the first draft of this it was 3 paragraphs. When I did an edit it became 5. Now day 4 of Pedrotober is very much an observation about our favourite man on a ranch & what you’d do to him. Yea I got carried away with this one.

Synopsis:- You’ve admired Silva for years but now circumstances give you the chance to speak to him.

Word count:-1000

Warnings over & above:- masturbation, age gap of at least 15 years, peeping Tom & perving, admiring from a far, obsession, very descriptive of imagining possible sexual encounters.

Thanks for the read people (how are we already on day 4) thanks @norththelemon & @alyssamariag for the prompts as always .

You’ve never spoken to him, but each day you watch as the grumpy old man at the ranch “next door” cleans his horses & prepares them & sweeps his dust off his porch, you can’t help but stare. The man is rather magnificent, strong & handsome.

You watch the man with the silver flecks in his hair. With the red plaid flannel, as he sips his water from the pale. How delicately he washes his hands, such large hands. The way the sun shine through his slightly greying hair. The broad shadow he casts on the ground as he’s so large. He is the man of your dreams, & often those dreams are spicy.

Everyday he walks one of his older horses around the area, not willing to put it down yet but knows it can still move a little. He always nods his cowboys hat to you & your parents. He’s always been at this ranch as long as you can remember, but you’ve never really been introduced. I mean you are probably of more interest to his son, you are similar ages in your early 20s. A man who is at least 45 would never take an interest in you. You can dream it but it will never happen.

That was until the morning commotion, you spied on the whole thing through your bedroom window, with your binoculars, as you did everyday, just to get a glimpse of him searching for his underpants in the draw. Wondering if you will get a look at his delicious peach. You know he sleeps naked, you’ve often seen the out line of his penis as he blows out the evening flame reflecting in the shadow before it all goes dark.

Silva shot a sherif on the day it all kicked off, but the sherif didn’t leave for a good 4 week’s afterwards. He vowed to never see him again. You heard the shouts & the arguments. You saw Silvas body slump in reaction before he headed to the porch to ponder, clearly feeling sorry for himself as he watched the sherif leave. This was your moment. To make friends with the man on the next ranch, to finally speak to him & show solidarity with him. Flirting could come later. His son hadn’t been there since his sherif arrived.

You put on your boots & walked the half mile up the road, the ranch you’d observed for so long you were now stepping into. The dust coating your throat quickly, the horses naying in yard. You slowly approach the porch & sigh. He’s rocking back & forth in his chair, his cowboy hat over his head as he is probably asleep. His foot tapping, his left hand clutching a red bandana. He looks so peaceful, so handsome & manly.

You don’t want to interrupt, you’d be happy to stare at this work of art for a long time.

You cough & he sits up. He almost rocks his chair back a bit too much.

“Hey” you say in a squeaky tone. Trying not to blush.

“Hey, did your parents send you up here?” He asks as he lifts his head up. That beard is even more magnificent in close proximity, even if it’s patchy & those glorious dark brown eyes look back at you.

“No” you say shyly. “I just saw the sherif leave & wondered if everything was okay, he’s been here a while” you stand awkwardly, trying to not be effected by the beauty of this older man, & wonder what he could teach you or do to you. Your thoughts betray you.

“He had but he’s gone now, our business is done” he says tapping his foot still as he rocks. The hand not holding the bandana rubs his own thigh.

“I just thought I’d check you didn’t need us for anything”

“No not yet but please tell your father that I might need to borrow one of his horses for a few days.”

“Yes mr Silva” you blush & he smirks as this happens. You like being obedient in lots of respects, but this he enjoyed a bit too much.

“Afternoon” he says dismissing the end of the conversation, pulling the hat down over his eyes not wanting to be disturbed anymore. You wait a few seconds shifting awkwardly before you head back to your own ranch. You may have missed an opportunity for more but now you have spoken to him, next time it won’t be as hard to approach the older man, to say a few more insightful things, build some trust which could blossom into who knows what.

You tell your dad that Silva may require assistance going forward, as you sit at the dinner table that night. Not hungry for food but hungry for the beast of the man just a few minutes away, consuming your every thought. An obsession which is now forming part of you, more than just a glance or a crush. You have made contact & had a conversation, this was now more. So it’s not a surprise to you that it is Silva’s name you moan into your pillow that night as you masturbate thinking of him. Wondering if he’d be gentle or rough. Would he want you on top or not? Would he expect oral delights & if he did would he give back as good as he got? How good his fingers tongue & cock would feel inside you, & how your small mouth would moan for him for hours until the sun came up.

You have no idea at his ranch, he’s moaning your name too. Smitten after his encounter with someone so young & vibrant. He lays in bed jerking his length, watching the ropes of cum spill over his hand thighs & bedding, wondering why the heck anyone like you would be interested in an old broken cowboy like him.

[pines4thetwin]

RE; https://www.tumblr.com/pines4thetwin/766541554302222336/dipstan-dipford-implied-with-a-hint-of-stancest?source=share

Saw this post and for some reason it spiked the thought in me of both Dipper AND Mabel doing this (I think because I saw a post with a similar premise but with Mabel? You might've written it I dunno...)

And so it kinda spiked like. What if Mabel and Dipper try and hide that they're doing that from each other, until one (or both) of them get so bottled up with their thoughts they just randomly blurt it out, and both of them have a moment of "oh em gee, you too???"

Idk where else that could go but it was a silly thought and I wanted to share with someone, so. Idk hope you like this!! Even if you don't it was nice to get it out of my head :)

Ahhhh your brain!!!

Idk why i didnt think of this!?!?

I did in fact make a similar post about mabel with her writing fanfiction about stancest, getting a crush on them and peeping on em. (idk if thats the one youre refering to)

But i love this idea, dipper and mabel both sneaking tryna catch a glimpse of the grunks together, running into each other *spiderman pointing meme* but not realizing why the other is sneaking around.

Mabels writing poly fanfic of her and the grunks and Dips got his journal where he's writing all his filthy lil thoughts, not quite outright fanfic.

I dont know what would cause it but i can totally see mabel being like "omg i love them so much. Need those old men to sandwhich me. I need to be between them right now." Maybe she's writing her fanfic and just starts fujoing out loud and dips like "huh?" But it doesnt quite click yet. He assumes she's talking about some fictional men from whatever fandom is her current hyperfixation cause why whould he assume she's talking about the grunks.

I can see mabel as being slightly more laid back when shes not fangirling to herself while writing her fics. She's capable of being normal around the stans. But dippers is actually going insane, bro is zoning out staring at either of the grunks, definitely almost slips more then once and blurts out his feelings to them. He's just struggling for real.

He'd be the one to burst and end up revealing his feelings with mabel being "oh em gee, me too!!!" He's going on a full rant talking about its not fair and theyre old and gross or at least stan is. And mabel definitely protests at that because how dare he... stan is wonderful and amazing but dipper keeps ranting, not paying attention.

"He shouldnt be hot. I shouldnt think theyre hot. Whats wrong with me. Its not fair. Why'd i have to go and fall in love with both of them" And mabel would politely wait for him to finish his rant but he just keeps going and going and mabel slowly starts to get fed up so she grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him till he shuts up.

"Dip-dop." She'd say slowly, as if talking to an idiot. "Me too."

Dipper would tilt his head, eyes studying her in confusion as if trying to figure her out. "You... too?"

And shed give him a look because he's definitely smart enough to put it together instead of standing there staring at her like she has two heads. He'd get it after a moment.

"Ohhhhh! You toooooo!..... You too?!?" And then they'd talk about it. Mabel ranting about how great stan is and how hot both the grunks are and how she wants to be sandwiched between them. She'd definitely be more open about it. Dipper is hesitant at first. Its clear that he's more comfortable talking about his feelings for ford then he is with his feelings for stan.

Mabel would share her poly fics with him and offer to write some with dipper as their third and at first dipper just wants him x ford fics but eventually he caves and asks her to write him all types of poly stuff for him and the grunks. (And even some of him x stan)

He even shows her his filth journal so she can incorporate some of his fantasies (dont imagine them drawing ship fanart together sharing a hiding spot. Adding to the pile like they're penpals passing notes back and forth)

(And if you like pinecest too)

Mabel eventually starting to write pinesot4 fics and being hesitant to share them with dipper at first cause yeah she has always had a teeny crush on her nerdy twin but he's never indicated reciprocating those feelings and yeah they both have crushes on/are in love with the grunkles but this is different. This is them.

But then he goes all red and hesitantly kisses her. And now theyre sneaking around just as much as the stans are. She convinces him to dress up Mystery Mystery for her (like he did in that one ep) and they sometimes take turns roleplaying as the stans for each other. (Imagine one dressed up, role playing stan and the other as ford at the same time. Mabel would make all the jokes about double twincest. Twincest² if you will.)

Theyre still lil peepers but now they talk to each other about the things they catch glimpses of. Stan and ford kissing, cuddling on the couch, the secret little convos they have. They defintely do the silent eye contact twin telepatgy thing when they happen to catch the stans groping eachother on the sly.

Sometimes they just lay up at night, cuddled together (dipper is forsure little spooning lol) and talking about their feelings. Them talking about how they love seeing their grunkles together just as much as they love the idea of being between them or of all of them being together. Just talking about how amazing it would be if the four of them could share their love and falling asleep with their hands intertwined, wishing for something just outta reach.

Okay imma stop this here. Sryyyy for yapping i just love them soo much!!!

Ending with a customary: "Sorry if this isnt what you asked for, its all i got."

[leothil]

Tumblr Fandom: A Year in Review 2023

@mistmarauder thank you so much for creating this and tagging me! 💛💛

Top Five Blorbos: 1. Eddie Diaz - 9-1-1 2. Leon Draisaitl - Hockey rpf 3. Embry Carter - Rebel Kings MC 4. Matthew Tkachuk - Hockey rpf 5. Eddie Fulton - Summer Sons

Top Five Fandoms: 1. 9-1-1 2. Hockey rpf 3. Rebel Kings MC 4. Percy Jackson 5. Summer Sons

Top Five OTPs: 1. Buddie - 9-1-1 2. Mattdrai - Hockey rpf 3. Embry and Mateo - Rebel Kings MC 4. Andrew and Eddie - Summer Sons 5. Quinn Hughes and Brady Tkachuk - Hockey rpf (listen. I can feel the brainrot brewing for these two. It's gonna get worse.)

Shoutout to Some New Friends: I feel like this year is the first time I really properly interacted with @shitouttabuck, @messyhairdiaz, @eddiebabygirldiaz and @toboldlynerd and it's been a truly wonderful time! Shoutout to @nunc-spes-spei and @zahlibeth who are always willing to yes-and spec/ideas and indulge weird theories, you're the best!

Shoutout to Some Old Friends: @rewritetheending, talking to you more this year has brought me indescribable amounts of joy, comfort, relief, every positive feeling out there! I can't emphasize enough how important you are to me! @onward--upward you are a true champ for putting up with my weird hrpf rants and excessive post sharing, I love sharing the brainrot with you! My Buck and Eddie girls @burnthatbridge, @girldadbuddie, and @thatsveryood, I treasure you SO much and hope we can share an unhinged video chat again soon (NZ meetup??)! And my absolute ride or dies, my teeny tiny friends, @buckactuallys, @capseycartwright, @clusterbuck, @hattalove, @oatflatwhite, and @thatbuddie, you're the best thing I have gained from this webbed site, I can't believe I get to talk to you every day! All hail the superior search engine etc, I love you so much!

Favorite Creation You Posted This Year: I've loved doing my fic recs from the archive-project and I've been so happy to see other people discover new old fics through it! (It's not finished, I just wanted a break over the holidays!)

Favorite Creation Posted by Someone Else This Year: I've got to shout out @butchdiaz's Eddie Diaz is the archer because I sat eating breakfast at our summer cottage one morning back in July, watching this video on repeat and struggling to keep my feelings somewhat contained because I couldn't spoil my sister by showing it to her.

People Who Brightened Your Year: Everyone I've already mentioned, naturally, but also @tripleaxeldiaz, @henswilsons, @kitkatpancakestack, @eddiediaaz, @try-set-me-on-fire, @transboybuckley, @trippedandfell for being those extra bright spots on my dash and sometimes in my DMs!

Anyone Else You’d Like to Mention: Big shoutout to all of my mutuals and followers, you are all fantastic and I'm really happy to be here hanging out with you! Extra thanks to @evcndiaz @nymika-arts @glorious-spoon @ellelans @spruceoutoffive @captain-hen @fcntasmas @andrewblur @spaceprincessem @mellaithwen and @mistmarauder for being absolutely wonderful presences on my dash, mwah!

Five of Your Favorite Authors This Year: In the interest of not trying to double-tag people (and get to shout out even more peeps):

@bropunzeling I've reread all of your mattdrai fics more than is probably healthy, and you are this 🤏 close to making me acquire new blorbos by reading the rest of your bibliography.

@msmargaretmurry I'll have you know I reread Head Above Water three times this year and it made me more unhinged every time. That's not counting the times I went back to it just to reread a favourite scene or two.

@hopetorun your mattdrai winner's room fic rearranged something in my brain and I'll never be the same again.

@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels I don't know how you do what you do but I'm in awe, every single time!

@littlespoonevan I've gone back to reread several of your fics this year, and there's something so uniquely sweet and comforting about them!

Five of Your Favorite Artists/Gifmakers/Podficcers/Etc. This Year: 1. @bilosan your gifs are so gorgeous and I always love seeing what kind of sets you put together! 2. @like-the-rest-of-la if I could eat your art, I would!! It's so stupidly beautiful! 3. @skyhighrollins911 your edits are beyond gorgeous, and the cast sharing them as well is so deserved! 4. @barbiediaz your gifsets bring me endless joy and make me stop to look even when it's a fandom I'm not personally in! 5. @baneme-art I am so in love with the way you draw Buck and Eddie, I could look at them for hours!

Three Things You’re Looking Forward to in 2024: 1. S7 of 9-1-1. Of course. 2. Continuing to learn more and get better at west coast swing! (Please let me get into the spring course I will be crushed if I can't have it regularly for half a year 😢) 3. Book seven of Rebel Kings MC (Garrett Leigh you KNOW what you did!)

Tagging: Anyone and everyone tagged in this post already!

[readychilledwine]

Exhibition and Voyeurism

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

Exhibition is the sexual arousal of being watched or looked at naked or while performing a sexual act. Exhibition is a kink that most of us actually tend to have to some degree. We can live it out in a place as simple as in front of a mirror with just our partner, by partaking in group sex, or in some places, there are clubs you can attend that attract the swinger and BDSM lifestyle that allow exhibition shows and scenes between couples. This kink is just one side of a very fun and exciting coin.

Voyeurism is being aroused by watching others during sexual acts or naked, and that is the second side of this coin. Voyeurs can find their kicks through a few different methods, but a common one we as a society have stopped associating with both of these kinks are strip clubs. A Voyeur may also be someone who partakes in cuckolding.

I've used exhibition/voyeurism in a few fics before since it is one of my favorite kinks to learn and write about. If you are interested in those, let me know, and I can send you some links 💕

💕 Peep the Valentines Day List Here 💕

💜Read Drumming Song Here💜

As always- NSFW below cut

Rhysand x TamlinsSister!reader

Warnings - could be seen as dubcon in nature (use of sex pollen), Rhys having to wear his mask, public sex, mentions of watching public sex, reader is used by Amarantha to send message to Tamlin, no mentions of seeing Tamlin during the act though, inferred power play with 3 people, forgot to send this to a friend to have them find errors, so forgive me.

Rhys kissed your shoulder, his eyes slightly haunted as he stepped back. “It's been a month,” he whispered gently. “She wants it done tonight.”

Tonight, of course she did after forcing you, Tamlin, and Lucien to watch Feyre beaten into a pulp. You swallowed heavily, stilling your mind while knowing what was to come. “She's doing this to hurt him,” a small smirk came to Rhysand's lips, causing you to glare. 

“You practically came to the idea of this not that long ago.” His hands were on you within a second of you turning away from him. Arms wrapped you tightly into him. “This is about your safety. Your protection. She believed you are my toy, therefore will not touch you due to my loyalty.” His voice had dripped down to a soft purr, echoing from your ear to the rest of your body. “You know I would not ask this of you if it wasn't absolutely necessary.”

Wine appeared before you. It reflected a soft golden shimmer and smelled faintly of citrus. Rhys picked it up, bringing it to your lips as he stared at you in the mirror. “You were so good for me during the Rite. Just be my good girl one more night, darling.” 

He pressed the cool glass against your lips, tilting it in silent command. “Trust me.”

You nodded, eyes watering slightly. You would never live this down. It would forever stain your history, stain the Spring Court's history. You allowed him to force the sweet liquid into your mouth, swallowing it as he placed a kiss to your temple. 

By time two shadows were done dressing you, your skin had started on fire. 

Heat pooled your body like a fevered dream making everything hazy. Every brush of their hands on your skin was heaven. 

But Gods when Rhys came in, when your mate came into the room smelling of power and seduction, you were instantly on him.

 Rhys smiled, hands going to your hips as he scented your arousal. You could faintly hear your brother growling, hear Amarantha's cruel voice, but all that mattered was Rhysand. “Are you ready, darling?” 

This wasn't one of Amarantha's usual parties where the air was stiff with tension and hatred. No, she had tapped into the more animalistic side of fae, allowing drinking, fucking, and fighting. 

You were currently perched on Rhysand's lap, core dripping as you watched two females eating each other out as if they'd found water after months in the Day Court's deserts. 

The gown you were in was completely see through, leaving none of your body to the imagination. You could hear Rhysand growl each time you two were approached at your high table. 

His hands had begun to roam. Squeezing your breasts, your plush thighs, you ass. 

You had begun to subconsciously rock on his thigh as need began settling into your bones. Rhysand's hand moved down, cupping your sex as he began placing tender kisses along your throat. “Good girl,” he purred. “Need help, baby?” You nodded eagerly, gasping as he spread your legs so you had one on each side of his thighs, opening you up to the room with only a shimmering fabric barely hiding you. 

He took one of your arms, forcing it behind his head and pulled your back to his chest.

A long finger circled your clit, causing you to moan loudly. You felt some eyes snapping over to the both of you, locking in on where that hand played with your soaked pussy. Looking over with flushed cheeks, you watched as Helion took a heavy drink, his eyes tracking each movement of Rhysand's hand, his body stirring with each moan and gasp you released. 

It took but seconds for you and Rhysand to be the main show as his finger began teasing your entrance. 

The Lord of Night and the Rose of Spring.

Death and Life.

The idea of you two was erotic alone, but seeing it had some of the fae in the room on their knees, as if worshiping every soft plea that left your mouth. 

When Rhysand finally pushed two fingers in, you couldn't help the scream of his name. You went to turn your head, only for his other hand to grip your hair, keeping your vision locked on where the other fae where fucking in a group. 

Whatever he had given you had dropped your inhibitions. It had relaxed you so completely your mind had forgotten why this was being done. You began riding his fingers in time with a pretty female sitting on a male's face. His fingers were curling, hitting that perfect spot and sending spark after spark through you. Your slick was dripping down his hand making him chuckle darkly in your ear. “Look at you, baby. Look at you getting off with all the High Lords watching you. All of their advisors watching you.” You whined in despair as he took his fingers out of you, forcing you to stand long enough for him to take his cock out. 

His beautiful heavy cock just waiting to plunge into you. To feel you. He sat back down, keeping your back to his chest before sinking you down fully on him. 

You came shamelessly as he bottomed out, but had no time to rest as he ripped the thin material of your dress off, leaving your body bare to all in attendance and began thrusting into you. 

Eyes were tracking each bounce of your breasts, each drop of sweat, each sweet moan causing your lips to part. Rhys retitled your head to where Amarantha sat watching. Her gaze was predatory, dangerous, and filled with lust.

In a normal situation, it would have disgusted you, but as you rode him, as every inch of you stretched out around him further fueling the fire in your lower tummy, she didn't matter. 

No one mattered.

It was just you and him, putting on a show for anyone to see and enjoy.

Your inner walls began twitching and pulsing around Rhys causing you to beg. Your eyes rolled with each movement, mouth falling open as he fucked you stupid. 

“Do not be rude, Rhysand. Allow our poor y/n to cum.” 

Rhys kissed below you ear before licking the pointed shell. “Cum for me, not for anyone else, for your mate.” 

Stars clouded your vision as you screamed his name, mind falling into an even deeper has as his thrusts grew sloppy inside of you before he followed behind. 

It was then that he bit your pulse point hard enough to trigger another orgasm, allowing your body to milk every last drop from him. Rhys allowed you to collapse against him, giving you a few moments before he lifted you and used magic to fix his pants. 

He fully lifted you bridal style then, nodding to Amarantha as he carried you back to his room. 

“Again,” you whispered to him, hand finding his face. “I need more.”

Rhys kissed your palm when it reached his cheek. “I will give you your fill in our room, y/n Darling. Just let me get you away from all those eyes first.”

You nodded sadly, peering up at him with puppy eyes and making his steps falter. “What's wrong?”

“I liked it. Again.”

The soft demand had His gaze going dark. “You will be the death of me, y/n. But if it is at the cost of this perfect cunt, then who I am to complain?”

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu

Rhys taglist:

@tothestarsandwhateverend @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson

Valentines Day Taglist

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb