#probably not the answer you wanted but it's what you're gettin'

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ baby, put your back into it! ❞

☾₊‧⁺...cw : toji fushiguro x fem!reader, smut, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, overstimulation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, rough sex, begging, smug and cocky reader, feral toji

☾₊‧⁺...a/n : idc idc i wanted something self-indulgent and want toji to call his wife 'ma'. hopefully it's good, it's been a long while since i have written anything so enjoy ☾

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : you notice a slight change in toji...seems like his breeding kink reached the next level

it didn't take long for you to notice something was different with toji. he would just...keep referencing families, babies, pregnancy...it was definitely weird coming from him.

"can you believe how expensive diapers are? if you ever had a baby, i'd just steal them, 'm not gettin' scammed for piss-'n'-shit-holders."

"...do you think you'd have a fat baby? jus' asking, 'cause you got some fat cheeks. and this time, I'm talking about the ones on your face."

"i hope you don't get gross cravings if you get pregnant. hot chips, peanut butter, and bacon? nah, wife or not, i'd beat your ass."

but everything really got worse when he started calling you that fucking nickname.

"hey, pretty ma."

"mmm, c'mon, ma, stay in bed with me longer..."

"fuck, you look so good under me like this, ma...can't wait to destroy that pretty cunt."

you didn't think too much of it, it was probably just toji being...toji. except, now? you realize exactly what's been plaguing his mind.

"you make me so fuckin' mad, y'know that," toji huffs, his fingers digging into the plush fat of your hips as he helps you fuck yourself on his thick cock.

you scoff, giving a little grind of your hips. the way he sucks in a breath and rolls his hips up into you made you grin; he talks so much shit for someone whose dick throbbed so much from that little movement.

"if i didn't make you mad, toj, you wouldn't have stuck around."

you don't give him the chance to give you a snide response before you climb off his lap and further up on the bed, giving the silent hint to switch positions. toji has to bite his tongue, shooting you a glare that makes you grin.

"you are insufferable, woman," he grumbles, coming to hold himself over you as he continues to glare down at you. toji sucks at pretending to be mad you, you think with a giggle, seeing need swirl in those pretty eyes of his. he slides his cock between your slick folds, cursing when it catches on your entrance.

just as toji is about to slide back in, you press your hand against his abdomen while your other hand wraps around the base. "ooh," he hisses, smirking down at you. "pretty wife's gonna put it in for me?"

however, it's clear he doesn't expect it when you begin to tug the condom off, eyes snapping up to you. oh, that absolutely adorable look on your face, brows furrowed together and embarrassment all over it...he felt himself twitch because of it. your usual cocky and smug persona seemed to have melted away.

"babe...what are you—"

"toji, do you wanna have a baby with me?"

the sudden question makes him freeze, his eyes widening with a mixture of shock and arousal. were you seriously asking him this now? as you fucking tugged the condom, making it slowly peel off his dick?

did you know there was no coming back from this?

"i'm being serious, fushiguro, give me an answer before i make you put a new condom on," you mutter shyly under your breath, the condom finally coming off.

he's snapped back to the present when he feels you rubbing his tip through your soaking cunt, little sighs leaving you when it brushes over your clit.

"...are you serious? hey, hey, look at me. you're not fuckin' with me right now, are ya? tell me. you really want t' have a kid with me?"

you finally make eye contact with him, that vulnerable look on your face making his heart race. you were too precious for your own good...god he was so fuckin' happy he wifed you up.

"yes, toji, i want you to make me a mommy. i...i-i want to start a family with you, okay? so stop asking me questions and jus—oh-!"

with no hesitation and no time to finish your sentence, toji slides himself inside, his hips flush against your ass as he groans your name. you're so fucking warm and wet, holy shit, he could cum just from having you wrapped around him like this.

"good god, you're gonna be the fucking death of me," he groans, leaning down to press a heated kiss against your lips. "i'm gonna ruin you, i'm goin' to fuckin' destroy you and this little cunt, you know that right?"

toji starts moving, setting a fast, deep, rough pace that makes his hot tip press against every part of you in ways that make your eyes roll back. "t-toj, w-waaait—!"

he shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut as he lifts your legs up, putting you into a goddamn mating press to stuff you full and you know you aren't going to make it out of this sane.

especially not when you keen at the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix.

"i can't, i can't wait, ma, i can't," he huffs into your ear, the room filling with the wet slaps of his balls smacking against your ass, the wet squelching of your needy cunt trying to suck his cock back in each time he pulls out.

"do you know what it fuckin' does to a man to hear his. fucking. wife. say she wants him to knock 'er up? huh? you don't d'you, baby girl," he asks into your ear, hips pounding hard against yours to punctuate each word.

all toji can think about is you, you getting round with his baby, you glowing so gorgeously, the way you'll out all cute, maybe get pudgy all over, all because of him...and everyone would know who did it.

"hoohmygod, listen to that pretty pussy," he hisses, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as his eyes flutter back into his head.

you can't help but hear it, it sounds so messy and sloppy, you just know you'll have to replace the sheets after this. but that's the last thing on your mind when he shifts forward just a bit, making your hips tilt up just a little more—

"oh my god, toji, t-toji, baby, don't stop, please," you practically sob, lifting your hips up to meet his thrusts as he hits that sweet spot so perfectly.

a cruel smirk breaks out on his face when he realizes he found that spongy spot inside you that makes you cream, leaning close and pressing his forehead against yours. "i know, i know, it feels good, doesn' it? yeah, you're such a slut for my cock, fuckin' milkin' it like a good girl," he coos to you condescendingly.

"w-we can't go back, toj," you whimper, your hands coming up to cup his face. you messily press wet kisses all over his face as you moan openly. "c-can't fuck with condoms anymore, it feels too good, baby,"

"shh, shh, mama, i got you," he reasures you, chuckling at how precious you are...telling him not to fuck you with condoms anymore? oh, he had no problem with that.

"'m gonna make sure i breed you nice 'n' deep, yeah? gonna get you pregnant with my baby," he coos, moving his hand between you both to rest on your stomach. "'m gonna fill you up...right here," he says with a devious tone before he presses down right as he pushes back inside of you.

"babyyyy, i'm cumming," you cry, digging your nails into his back as tears stream down your face. he didn't stop, still snapping his hips into you as you orgasm, feeling you squeeze him so fucking tight as he talks you through it, little phrases of 'that's it, keep cumming' and 'goooood, you're gettin' so wet, milk that cock, it's all for you' being huskily groaned into your ear.

but, when you think he'll stop, giving you a break...you realize he's not, he's not stopping, toji's still fucking you, and you glance down and see how you're creaming, your cum coating his cock in a milky sheen as you squeal, managing to get your legs off his shoulders to try and move up on the bed away from his unforgiving pace.

"tojiiii, 's too much," you huff, managing to move far up the bed enough that only the tip is inside of you...but toji isn't letting you get away that easily.

"nononono, don't run away, don't run away from me, mama." he follows you up the bed until you are trapped between him and the pillows messily pushed against the headboard.

"don't run, c'mon, get back on my cock, tha's it," toji rasps, his voice making you shiver. he sounds so desperate, so unhinged, so needy. he looks so good like this, you think, mewling when he pushes back inside.

"there she is, good girl, lettin' me breed her cunt."

your insides are getting turned into mush, and, fuck, was he going deeper? you nodded your head, but you didn't even know why, it jsut felt right, felt so good, you were gonna cum again—

"i need to fuckin' breed you," he practically whines, toji's eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on chasing his end, your sticky cunt driving him fucking mad. soon, he'd be cumming inside of you, filling you up, his hot, thick cum getting sucked right into your womb by your desperate pussy...

"shit, fuck, doll, let me cum in you, let me empty my balls inside of you, i want it so fuckin' bad, mama, let me make you my pretty pregnant wife, please, let me give you a baby—"

he was rambling, eyes snapping open as he tried to glare at you but you just moan when he made eye contact. he's trying sohard to seem angry, but he's not, he's melting in your walls, eyes begging you to let him paint them white, to try and knock you up.

you nod again, rapidly to the point you get dizzy, hands grabbing his biceps and squeezing hard. "toji, don't you, hhf, waste a fuckin' drop, or i swear to god i will t-tie you up and milk you until you are shooting blanks, give me your fuckin' baby—"

"—fuckin' shit, babyyy, i'm cumming, fucking take it, take it, take my cum into that pretty little cunt-!"

the groan that he gives you is loud and needy, dropping down to messily kiss you as he pounds into you in deep, hard thrusts trhough his orgasm. you shudder violently at the feeling of thick, hotness filling you up from the inside. it's so much, you can tell it's not all gonna fit, feeling some of it messily spurt out of you as his thrusts grow lazier.

"thank you, baby," you softly coo, thankful for both the break of overstimulation and the pleasant feeling of being so full. he nearly collapses on you, holding himself up with his forearms as he pants, catching his breath as you kiss all over his face, waiting for him to come back to you.

eventually, he sits up, a hand running through his messy hair as his other one stays on your waist, stroking it up and down, taking in the view of you catching your breath against the pillows he cornered you against.

...you're so so pretty.

"shit...ah, damn, you're a mess," toji mutters to himself, looking between the two of you. it's a filthy mess, a mixture of your cream and the thick cum that couldn't stay inside. hell, he doesn't think he's ever cum this much in one go before. "mmmn...it looks pretty though," he says with a proud smirk. he did that to you, after all.

as he goes to pull out of you, toji's shocked by the way you manage to gain the strength to flip him onto his back...just that single move had him twitching back to hardness inside you as wide eyes looked up into your mischievous ones.

"don't pull out, yet, toj...just one more time? just to make sure it takes?"

an almost evil smirk breaks out on toji's face as he digs his fingertips into your ass, hard enough that it'll leave marks.

"shit, i knew i married the right fuckin' woman. come on, baby girl, let me see you fuck me stupid. let's make sure i give my wife what she wants.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter this work

[daytaker]

The Gang React to You Falling Asleep on Them

Lucifer

*deep sigh that speaks volumes to how difficult it is for this man to get any sleep, and here you are, conked out on his shoulder...*

If you don't wake up within a few minutes, he'll have no choice but to move. He is not the sort to be so sentimental that he can't bear the thought of disturbing your precious sleeping face. Of course, he won't be an asshole about it; he'll be careful and try not to wake you up. He might even drape his jacket over you for your nap.

But only if he doesn't need it.

Mammon

"Hey, my arm's gettin' a little stiff, can I just-- ...ah."

Oh. Ah. Alright. Cool. This is happening. Hmm. Damn. Not super comfortable, and it's kinda inconvenient to be trapped here, but, pshh, what's he supposed to do, wake up a sleeping human? He's heard that can lead to...cardiac arrest, or something. He ain't gonna murder you just to move a little sooner.

You did not just start snuggling him in your sleep. Did Mammon score today or did he score today? Too bad his arm's starting to fall asleep, but, well, nothin' in life is free.

Leviathan

"What...? WHAAAAAAT?" (But only in his brain. He doesn't want to wake you up. Mammon says that can lead to cardiac arrest in humans.)

He's pretty sure he's the one who's going to keel over from heart problems at this rate. He hadn't even realized you were getting sleepy. Are you bored watching him tackle this single-player old school RPG? Did you hate it all this time and you never even mentioned it?! Why is your face so close?! Do you not have any idea the kind of mental torture you're putting him through right now?!

Deep breaths, Levi. Deep breaths. This happens in anime all the time. It's...usually a good thing! It means that the main character and their love interest are tripping all the right flags, and... and how long is this scene going to last? Those scenes almost always end with the two still on the couch, then they skip to the next day or something. How long is he going to have to just sit here... suffering...?

After about ten minutes, he's reached his limit and he gently shakes you awake. He is so embarrassed that he insists you go to bed now, and he will not take no for an answer. Good night. Goodbye. *door slams*

AAAAHHHHHHHHH.

Satan

"Hm? Have you been getting enough sleep...?"

Satan would be very pleased with the situation, though probably less intensely excited than Mammon. He'll make whatever small adjustment is necessary for his comfort, then settle in and read for as long as it takes you to wake up. He feels very warm and fuzzy. It's nice. Hopefully you do this more often. But he should really ask you about your sleep schedule. Levi must be forcing you to stay awake too often.

Asmodeus

"Aww, aren't you adorable?"

This is precious. He needs to document it. As soon as he realizes what's happening, he'll carefully pull out his D.D.D., making sure not to wake you up, and start snapping pics. A few of you, a few dozen selfies with you, a few with him pretending to be asleep too, and then a perfect shot of him kissing your forehead. Grammable as fuck.

Er... is that drool he can see in one of those photos? ...You're going to have to wake up. You can't just drool on his brand-name jacket.

Beelzebub

"Oh."

He's used to people falling asleep on him, so this doesn't really throw him for much of a loop. However, he's a bit more careful of waking you up. He knows that if he wakes Belphie, he'll just fall back asleep within a few seconds, but you're not quite so adaptable. So he'll do his best to stay quiet and not move much.

But no matter how hard he tries, he's never going to be able to turn off his stomach. You'll probably wake up with a start as his stomach roars at you about twenty inches from your face.

Belphegor

"...zzzz..."

Who are we kidding, we all know he was asleep first. Probably, he's the reason you fell asleep so easily. He's soft and warm, perfect for drifting off to dreamland...

Diavolo

"Very bold! You really are astonishingly brave."

It's not every day someone has the stones to fall asleep in his presence, let alone fall asleep and use him as some sort of glorified pillow. What a nice change of pace.

He'll continue doing whatever it is he was doing before, but he is a busy demon, running the Devildom and all. He'll slowly and carefully extricate himself when it's time to move, then have Barbatos bring you a blanket and prepare some tea for when you wake up.

Barbatos

"Humans are awfully needy creatures, aren't they."

He can't help but chuckle. You just pass out during the middle of the day? Then again, it's possible you're probably not entirely well. He'll have to disturb the young master to ask what sort of accommodations to make for you. Of course, he's sure Diavolo won't mind. But it's irresponsible to let yourself drift off like this in the castle of the king of the demons, isn't it? This isn't a resort.

Sleep well, human.

Solomon

"You're just looking cute on purpose now, aren't you?"

Oh well! Looks like he's stuck here for now. Too bad. He'll smile, put an arm around you, kick his feet up, and settle in for the long haul. Hopefully you're able to get a good, solid nap in.

Most likely, you both will. He'll pass out too within ten minutes, give or take.

Simeon

"Oh- shh. There, there."

Well, if you aren't adorable... You must be so tired. He's glad you feel so at ease with him that you let yourself fall asleep, and you certainly look cute, but he's also a little concerned that you're this tired. He'll patiently wait for you to wake up. Then he'll make you some tea and gently remind you to take better care of your health.

Luke

"Eh...?! Hey! ...WAKE UP!"

How tired are you?! You need to get better sleep! Sheesh, you need to be more careful too. You almost crushed him.

[nova-amor]

𓈒∘☁︎ ◜ 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥 ◞

𝐜𝐰 — 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 [𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐲, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥], 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱(?)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 𝟏.𝟐𝐤

"hey, so sorry, i missed your call, i'll get back to you as soon as possible. thanks!" beeeep.

simon smiled at the sound of your heavenly voice through the phone, the fabric of your pajama shirt balled in his large fist and clutched close to his chest. he lay sprawled out across his bed, staring up at the white ceiling of his room, lazily watching the ceiling fan spin around. he had just dropped you off at the airport, another blissful weekend spent together having concluded much too soon for his liking.

"hey, lovey," his rough voice spoke into the phone, his tone soft and oozing with love that he reserved only for you. "you left one of your shirts here, figured you'd want to know before you spiral when you get home and can't find it."

he sat up, pressing his phone to his ear with the support of his shoulder. simon spread the shirt across his lap, thick fingers tracing along the graphic lettering, "you're probably on the plane already, which probably's why you didn't answer, you're not one to ever miss one of my calls,"

it was a shirt that he had bought you after a metal concert that you had dragged him to. the shirt was an extra large, ridiculously large on your short frame and, yet he simply adored seeing you in it whenever he got the chance. "i already miss you, baby girl, can't wait to see you in a few weeks, don’t know how i’m gonna sleep without ya," he probably sounded a little pathetic— filling your voicemail box with whispers of love. completely unlike his usual cold, stand-offish behavior. "it's gettin' late and i gotta wake up early in the morning... so i'll let you go. love you, baby girl."

with a heavy heart, simon hung up the phone, tossing the device off the side before getting up. he followed his usual evening routine— shaving the five o'clock shadow he grows on the weekends, showering, brushing his teeth, and going over final notes before the next morning's debrief. he settled in bed, the screen of his phone illuminated in the darkness of the room as he scrolled through the pictures you two had taken that weekend.

a lot of the photos consisted of you— bright-eyed and smiling at the camera, the depths of your devotion and love for him evident even through the camera. the soft sheets of his blanket rubbed against his bare thighs, cock stirring between his legs as he longingly stared at a photo of you in a baby pink babydoll dress. the lace edges of the dress reached the tops of your thighs, your thighs pressed together to conceal what was underneath while you leaned forward, breast practically spilling out from the confines of the dress.

his sheets still smelled of you, the lingering sweetness of your perfume and hair products etched into every fiber of the pillow covers and blankets. against better judgment, simon dialed your phone again, fully expecting to be greeted by your voicemail again.

"can't go to sleep, lovey," simon breathed out, resting his phone atop his pillow as he set the microphone close to his lips. he stared up into the darkness, peeling back his covers. "everythin' smells like ya, makin' me go fuckin' crazy and yer not even here to help," he breathlessly chuckled, his thick fingers wrapping around the hilt of his cock.

"fuck, just thinkin' about ya is gettin' my dick hard," simon rolled his hips loosely into his tight fist, squeezing his cock hard with each languid pass over his flushed cock head. "got me fuckin' my fist, wishin' it was yer hands, especially that sweet mouth— fuck, baby girl, ‘m obsessed with yer mouth—got me missin' the sounds ya make, the little moans ya let out when my dick bullies your throat, how yer throat clenches around me when ya chokin' on me."

simon's other hand finds the cotton fabric of the shirt you had left behind, lifting it to his nose. he inhales your scent deeply, allowing it to overfill his lungs as his cock twitches in his heavy hand. "got me thinkin' about the cute faces ya make when i'm driving my dick into ya, holding onto yer hips— the gasps ya make when my dick kisses yer cervix, got ya barely able to breathe when i'm buried so so deep inside that pretty pussy."

"ya remember this mornin'? when i split ya open with my fingers, coaxing every sweet little whine and plea from ya until ya became a soppin’ mess. too fucked dumb, pussy walls milkin' my fingers until yer were gushin'— fuckin' squirtin' all over my hand."

the speed of simon's strokes grew faster, easily gliding up and down his length with the help of his pre-cum. he was close— so painfully close, he just wished he could cum inside you like he did that morning. "bet my cum's still drippin' out of you— stainin' them lips with my seed after i fucked you nice and slow. etching my cock into ya pussy so that ya always remember me. best pussy i've ever fuckin’ had, the way ya body twitches and arches into me when i hit all em sweet spots," simon’s face starts tingling, getting closer to his peak. “no one will ever fuck ya as good as i do, no one will ever be able to. i own that fuckin’ cunt, ya pussy’s mine, baby girl. just like ya said while creamin’ all over me this mornin’: always and forever, lovey.”

your shirt laid across the upper half of his face, covering his eyes and nose. he could practically feel you— the warmth of your skin against his, the thickness of your arousal dripping onto him, the softness of your hands massaging his aching muscles as he pressed his cock into the tight ring of your cunt. fully succumbing to the tight, wet heat between your legs that felt like home to him.

"f-fuck, so close, lovey," he groaned into the phone, every nerve in his body set a flame. his pace quickened, his cock jackhammering in his fist. "so fuckin' close, miss that sweet pussy— miss grippin' them hips as ya take my cock like the good girl ya are,"

simon bit his lip, drawing blood as his teeth sank into the delicate flesh. "yer my good girl, right, lovey? all mine... all fuckin' mine, miss hearin' ya say it, my body's achin' f' ya," the pit of his stomach tightened, squeezing the air from his lungs. "f-fuck, baby girl, g'na cum.. g'na cum f' ya, fuck!"

simon's hips stuttered as his orgasm washed over him— muscles tensing, jaw going slack, eyes rolling back into his skull. he swore he could see heaven, the faint taste of your arousal filling his senses as he recalled the musky flavor he was addicted to. his cum stained his abdomen and his knuckles, skin stained white with thick ropes.

“holy fuck,” simon whispered to himself, completely forgetting the phone call. “came so hard f' ya, baby girl, wish it was in ya. i'll call you tomorrow, need t' clean up over here. love ya and that little cunny.”

as simon ended the call, he leaned over to turn his bedside lamp on, the warm light briefly blinding him. he cleaned himself with a nearby jacket, he planned to do a load of laundry tomorrow afternoon anyway. as he tucked himself back into bed, turning off the lamp and muscles completely relaxed in the post-nut euphoria, his phone buzzed. the screen lighting up with an image of you.

"you're right," you whispered into the phone, the faint squelching sound of your fingers deeply plunging in and out your pussy catching simon's attention. his cock rose to life again, aching as your breathy moans filled his ear. an incoming facetime call appeared on his phone, a smirk tugging at his lips. "your cum's still drippin' out of me, wanna see?"

[decaffeinatedwriter101]

Basement fun

“Quiet sweetheart, we don't want anyone to hear us now, do we?” Norton whispered in a cocky tone as he continued to pound himself into you, the sound of skin against skin and the desperate moaning and whimpering coming from the basement echoed against the walls.

“N-no, I don't!.” you say through moans, digging your nails into his shoulders as tears begin to form and blur your vision from the over-stimulation, you're trying your hardest to stay somewhat quiet so none of your teammates try to come and assist you in your ‘kite’, the thought of someone coming down to the basement and finding you getting fucked by the hunter sent shivers down your spine, the feeling of humiliation and anxiety sinking into your nerves even though you knew that wasn't going to happen.

“Or do you want your friends to find you down here? getting fucked stupid, all because you're desperate for a win?” Norton asks you with a shit-eating grin on his lips while his hands begin to move away from your hips and begin to grope and squeeze at your ass, the feeling of him hitting that sweet spot over and over again had you struggling to answer him with a coherent sentence without moaning.

“FUUuuucK, no, i- Ah don't want them to” you finally mustered out as you threw your head back from him rubbing that little bundle of nerves in a fast circle-like motion, the feeling of him thrusting himself in and out so rough and fast made it feel like your brain was going to melt your whole body felt like it was on fire, Norton moved both of his hands down to your thighs ultimately putting you into a mating press, he grabbed you by the cheeks and made you look him in the eye. 

“What the matter huh? Are you scared that someone will come here and see us like this?” He groaned out as he got closer to your face pressing his lips up against yours for a kiss, one of his hands moved up to the back of your head to gently tug at your hair, you were getting close, and the familiar feeling of that coil slowly getting ready to pop.

“Norton, please, do- on't stop” you beg through messy kisses as he pounds himself into you even rougher and harder than before, he pulls his face away from yours and cups your face, moving strands of hair out of your eyes a soft yet still somewhat cocky smile on his face.

“You gettin' close huh?” he huffs out as he keeps pounding into you, his thrusts beginning to falter as he is close to his peak, you two holding eye contact the whole time, the feeling of his tip vigorously pounding into your sweet spot got you seeing stars, tears streaming down your face as your legs begin to shake, nortons thrust stammer a bit as he feels you tightening around him his breath hitches in his throat as he quickens his pace tightening his grip on your hair,

  “Ooh god I'm close y/n, I know you are too I can feel you tightening around me,” he says through huffs and groans, his thrusting Increasing in speed.

“Norton I'm so close,” you say through moans, The coil in your stomach tightens with every thrust, getting closer to popping, As you struggle to keep your eyes open, your eyelids flutter, trying to maintain eye contact with the hunter on top of you rearranging your guts, When the coil snaps, it sends your head flying back, causing your eyes to flutter with surprise and intensity, the feeling of warmth envelops the insides of your thighs, Norton leaned back with a contented sigh, surveying the mess he had created with a sense of pride.

“Well look at that, such a mess y/n,” With a confident smirk, he helped you up as the final cipher unlocked. The blaring alarm echoed across the map. As you made your way towards the open exit gate, you glanced back and saw Notion standing there, looking as cocky as ever. At least in the end, you secured your four-man win, and he got his favor.

A/N: hey guys this is my first fanfic, as you can probably tell, also this is a really and I mean really old fools gold fanfic I wrote back when he was released but never finished it until now, I hope you enjoy, I will of course practice on my writing more in the meantime,

Decaff out!

[thegoogoomuckkk]

Will you be doing more the Club series? I miss it so much, I can’t wait for more it’s so hot.

club -> businessman -> nanami isn't exactly what you expected out of your third client. . .but that doesn't mean you're complaining

the time for being nervous had long since passed. any reservations you had about sleeping with the world’s strongest sorcerers had been shoved down deep inside; there wasn’t any time for that. between dancing at the club as usual & your nights spent with scheduled clients, there was hardly any time to spend with your thoughts, & maybe that was a good thing. there was time, however, to tear shiu a new asshole. 

“listen, they’ve already paid, doll. ain’t anything I can do about it now. besides, you’re always telling me I don’t pay you enough. I’m paying you plenty, now, aren’t I?”

“oh please, your cheap ass still isn’t paying me enough. they’re paying me,” you murmur, & he’s rolls his eyes. 

“you’re gettin’ paid, yeah? that’s all that matters. now was there something you needed, or do you just like to waste my time?”

“both,” you sneer, leaning over his desk, palms flat against the cheap mahogany. cheap, that was a good word to describe him. “who’s my sunday appointment?” 

his smile makes you violent. “can’t tell you that. just that he’s paid a shit ton for your appointment.”

“so when he murders me, you gonna sprinkle that cash over my grave?”

“he’s not gonna murder you, drama queen. I checked him out, he’s clean as can be.”

you left his office with more questions than answers. shiu knew who it was, but he wouldn’t tell you. 4 whole hours to a random stranger. you couldn’t dwell on it too long, you had a schedule to keep, & apparently so did your client. 10:15pm sharp.

this was gonna be easy-peasy, you thought, pulling the door open to the club. tonight worried you the least out of any of your appointments. a blowjob was the most mundane thing a man could’ve asked you for. 

you were sitting on the edge of the bed, cool & smooth, when the door swung open at 10:14pm.

& holy shit, kento nanami was probably the most attractive man you’d ever seen. you were ready for him to grab you by the scalp & force his cock down your throat. in fact, you weren’t just ready for it, you wanted it. giving this fine piece a blowjob was going to be your pleasure. 

“hello.”

you bit back a laugh. “hi.” you surveyed him further, attempting to look past the face & muscles—as hard as it was—suit & tie, silver rolex, thinly-framed glasses. everything about him was arousing, you were having a hard time containing yourself. 

“so, it said ‘oral sex’ on your file,” you say matter-of-factly. there was no easy way to segue into these kinds of situations, but nanami seemed like a matter-of-fact kind of guy. & you liked that. 

"that's correct," nanami replied, his voice deep & smooth. he loosened his tie slightly as he approached you, his gaze intense behind those thin frames. "but I'd like to clarify something first."

“oh?” 

he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, & god, even that was hot. "I know that I…paid for your…services,” he clears his throat. & you can see it in his eyes, though they’re averted from yours. he’s embarrassed. good. “but I’m not interested in doing anything that you’re not explicitly comfortable with. so if, at any point, you’re not—comfortable, that is—then we’ll stop. is that clear?” 

you nod, thoughts too jumbled to say anything. but he doesn’t like that. maybe he doesn’t argue, but you can tell, he wants your verbal consent. “yes, nanami. it’s clear,” you try to tease, to be flirty, to be anything but disturbed by how hot this guy was. the pictures don’t do him justice. 

“good.” 

he eyes you like a predator as you stand up from your seated position & take a couple steps toward him. you subtly gesture for him to sit, but he gives you a confused look. “wouldn’t you rather lie down?” 

you snort. “lie down to suck your dick?” you give him the same confused, questioning gaze. "I guess if that’s how you want it.” 

a soft smile touches his lips. “pardon me, but I think you read my request wrong,” he says. “or at least, misinterpreted what I meant. I don’t play on letting you…” he doesn’t even think he can say it, but finally he spits out: “suck my dick,” in a hushed, humiliated tone. “by oral sex, I meant, giving.” 

“oh.” 

“yes, oh.” 

you retreat back to where you were sitting, the backs of your knees bumping against the bed. yes, per your request, shiu had finally moved you to a room with a bed. he follows your movements, both with his eyes & body. 

you were. . .what was this feeling? nervous? excited? no, confused. this man was paying to eat you out. it would be physically impossible for him to be more attractive. but. . .why? why couldn’t he get a girlfriend to do this with? you can’t imagine what straight woman wouldn’t want that.

“may I kiss you?” he accepts your nod this time, & leans down to press his lips against yours. he was so big & tall. he commanded your space, forced his way into it until all you could comprehend was the presence of him. his lips on yours, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip, his hands finding their grip on your waist. you let him push you both back, until you're flush with the bed, head softly rested on the pillows, his knee on the cheap comforter in between your thighs. 

your breath catches in your throat as nanami hovers over you, his eyes dark with desire. he pulls back slightly, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. "Is this alright?" he asks, his voice low & husky.

you nod eagerly, then remember his preference for verbal consent. "yes," you breathe. "more than alright."

a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he leans in again, this time trailing kisses along your neck. his hands move to push up your shirt, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. you arch into him, desperate for more contact.

nanami takes his time, methodically undressing you between kisses & caresses. his touch is reverent, almost worshipful, as he explores every inch of newly exposed skin. his gaze roams over your body, appreciation evident in his eyes. "beautiful," he murmurs, & a small wire snaps in your stomach. this was not a regular session; you didn’t have this kind of sex with…anyone, really, but especially not club patrons. in fact, you can’t remember a time in which a customer went down on you, ever. & more concerning was: you wanted him to, despite how…personal it was. 

 you squirm beneath him, desperate for more. "patience," he murmurs against your collarbone, & you’re sure the deep bass of his voice vibrates straight to your cunt. he trails his lips down your neck, between your breasts, & he seems fixated there for a while, mouth wrapped around the soft skin, sucking the nipple, his other palming your breast, & you let out a breathless whine. he slides his fingers down to your underwear, pressing the pads of them firmly against the soft fabric covering your clit. he rubs soft & slow, & you’re so deeply concerned by how good it feels. needless to say, this is not what you were expecting. finally, he allows himself to bring his lips down to your panties, licking the already wet spot covering the front of them. he hooks his fingers through the material around your hips, slowly pulling them down. 

your breath catches as the cool air hits your exposed skin. he lets out a low groan at the sight of you, vulnerable & wanting. his warm breath ghosts over your inner thighs as he moves closer, planting soft kisses along sensitive skin. you shiver in anticipation, hands fisting in the sheets.

he teases you mercilessly, lips & tongue exploring everywhere but where you need him most. just when you think you can't take it anymore, he finally, finally drags his tongue along your slick folds. you cry out, hips bucking involuntarily. he holds you steady with strong hands on your thighs as he works you over with his mouth, alternating between broad strokes & focused attention on your clit. his strong hands grip your thighs, holding you open for him. the pleasure builds steadily as he works you with his tongue, fucking it in & out of you, nose bumping against your clit. & when he decides that’s just not quite enough, he presses one finger softly in & out of your dripping hole. never pushing it all the way in ‘cause he doesn’t want to hurt you. 

your body tenses as the sensation builds to an almost unbearable intensity. with a muffled cry, you tumble over the edge into blissful release. waves of pleasure crash over you as your muscles clench rhythmically around his fingers. he doesn't let up, working you through each aftershock until you're gasping & oversensitive.

only then does he slowly withdraw his fingers & place a gentle kiss on your inner thigh. you lie there panting, feeling boneless & sated.

but he’s not done, you realize, hiking your thighs over his shoulders, burying his face into your cunt again. you’ve barely had time to recover & he’s starting his ministrations again, this time harder & faster, & you writhe in his grip, mewling & whimpering about it’s “t-too much, can’t-can’t take it.” 

your brain goes soft & fuzzy when he says, “you can take it, m’gonna give it to you.” you’re sure no one has ever taken more pleasure out of giving oral sex than nanami is right now. 

his tongue swirls relentlessly, finding every sensitive spot as if he's memorized your body. you arch your back, fingers tangling in his hair as waves of sensation crash over you. it's overwhelming, almost painful in its intensity, but you can't bring yourself to push him away.

"that's it," he murmurs against your flesh, the vibrations making you shudder. 

you're trembling, teetering on the edge of overstimulation. but nanami is relentless, his strong hands gripping your thighs to keep you spread open for him. you're making sounds you've never heard yourself make before—desperate, needy whimpers punctuated by breathless gasps.

just when you think you can't take anymore, he sucks hard on your clit & you shatter. your second orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, & you’re seeing spots, tugging painfully on his hair, nails raking against his spiky undercut, & he’s moaning into your cunt. if you were anywhere near coherency right now, you’d notice him pathetically humping against the mattress, mindlessly, too focused on your pretty pussy to actually get off. 

“nanami,” you whine. he looks up at you with hooded eyes, covered by his lashes. 

“did you want to stop?” 

"I-i–no, I just—you don’t have to do that anymore, not if you don’t want to.” it’s hard to say anything, to think after having his mouth on you, his tongue in you. but you do your best, try to sit up on your elbows .”we can do s-someth—”

"I'd like to continue doing this.” it’s so direct, so stern, but pleading also. "If you’re alright with that.” 

you can’t help but nod along, brain soft, thoughts gone. "y-yes," you manage to stammer out, your voice barely above a whisper. "please."

nanami's eyes flash with something intense, a mix of desire & determination. without another word, he lowers his head again, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. you shiver in anticipation, your body already yearning for his touch.

his tongue resumes its exploration, slow & deliberate at first, then growing more insistent. you fall back onto the bed, unable to support yourself any longer. your fingers tangle in his hair, not guiding, just needing something to hold onto as waves of pleasure wash over you. 

you can’t fathom what this could possibly be doing for him, but it’s obvious that he’s enjoying this in some perverse way; not that you were complaining. you lost track of how many times you came on his tongue, but a soft alarm went off in your soft, pliant head after a while. it had been a lot longer than an hour & a half. but with how good he made you feel, you didn’t think charging him was fair. 

regardless of how you felt, the next day, there was far more money than shiu had charged him & a bouquet of roses on your makeup table. all the girls ooh’ed & ahh’ed at it when you walked in. everyone wanted to see, but you kept the little note to yourself. it was thick cardstock paper that somehow smelt like his cologne. 

"I know roses are cliche, but I didn’t know what you liked. after last night, I'd love to know what else you like.”

crazy that you sent this, anon, because I literally woke up this morning wondering why I never finished this series?? I'm on it 🫡 did you like it? -> here's my masterlist -> want something more? ask me for it

[kadwrites]

the color green | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; you've met tommy's secretary , who has a thing for him.

warnings ; mentions of death (no one dies), my bad writing?? probably typos, arranged marriage trope

a/n ; um idk what to think of this part but lmk what you think of it

-

he just looks back at you, his brow raised ,waiting for an explanation

"what?"

"what did ya say to 'er?"

"nothing, why ? what did she tell you?" you can't help the amused expression on your face, you did try to hold it back.

"she said you and polly cornered 'er"

"what" you let out a small laugh "all we did was speak to 'er, and it was mostly polly. she barely acknowledged me."

"really?"

"yes really."

"did ya tell 'er that we're engaged?" his voice was deep and cold. it sent a familiar chill down your spine.

"why ? did ya not want people to know?"

"answer the question"

"i didn't. polly did." you stare at him for a while, eyes tracing his face with a raised brow "are you fucking 'er?"

he blinks slowly, his demeanor doesn't change "i beg your fucking pardon?"

"ya heard me."

"no."

you study his face "we didn't say anything to 'er, polly asked 'er if she knew who i was, she looked me up and down like i was some whore and then almost cried when she found out you and i are engaged. thats it."

"we're not engaged yet."

"we are, according to your aunt. so if ya 'ave any fucking complaints , ya might want to take it up with 'er."

you try to walk past him, deciding that storming off is the best way out of this ,

"and how do ya think youre gettin' back home? polly is gone"

you freeze, stopping in place when you hear that, and he turns, just staring at your back.

"walking exists , ya know?" you turn as well to face him, you try to maintain the most confident expression you could muster

"you're gonna walk back? to your father's house? at this time?"

you just nod,

"no you're not"

"yes i am."

"no."

"why not?"

"what kind if fiancé would i be if i let ya walk home in the dark?." his voice is sarcastic

you just raise your brow again, "i thought we weren't engaged."

"go to my office, i'll drive ya home in a minute."

"ya don't 'ave to, i don't want your charity."

"go to my fucking office, y/n."

you mumble curses under your breath as you stride through and to his office, you open the glass door and plop down on the chair facing his desk. you can see the sectary's silhouette from the corner of your eyes. she's sitting on a desk outside his office and you walked by without sparing her a glance. you can feel her stare burn through you.

the door opens again and he walks in, and sits on his desk

"are we goin' to stay here long? cause i can call oliver to come and get me."

he looked up from the papers he was holding and his stare made you look away. okay maybe you'll let him drive you home.

the secretary knocks and walks in "i just need your signature on this form sir." she walks to his desk and gets as close as appropriately possible.

" y've met my fiancée then, miss carter?" he asks the secretary without looking at her

"i.." she stands straight and glances at you "i did , yes i did."

he looks up at her briefly "she might be comin' here more often now, so please make 'er feel at home whenever im not around."

"of course, sir." she smiles sweetly at him before grabbing the paper and walking out of the office.

you raise your brows, a small smirk on your lips "oh im your fiancée now , aye?"

he doesn't answer you, but you see the corners of his lips curl.

you stifle back a yawn as you sit on the sofa , trying to not to nod off. its the middle of the night and your brother had woken you up. safe to say tonight was not a night you've expected and its yet to end.

"how did ya even know about this?" you nod towards abraham who had a cup of tea in his hand

"mum called" he muttered as he handed you a cup as well

"its just a cold , ya know that? , ya didn't 'ave to leave anna and come all the way here."

"it's dad, i couldn't just sleep after 'earing mum cry about 'im"

"she cries about everything" you say with a sigh as you take a sip of your tea

the living room as dark except for a small lamp that was next to you

"did she call celest and oliver?"

"i think so, but they'll probably come by in the mornin'."

you hear your mothers sniffles as she leaves her and your father's bedroom.

"hes asking for you."

you and abraham look at each other before you put your tea cup down and get up from the sofa.

"come in"

you walk in and close the door behind you gently. your dad is propped up with a pillow behind him, you approach the bed and get on it, laying next to him

"ya better not give me another one of your speeches dad." you feign annoyance but your smile gives you away.

he lets out a laugh then turns to you "i'm an old man ya know, i 'ave to make sure i say everything i need to say before i leave ya."

"y've got a cold dad, its not the plaque " you chuckle as you turn to look at him too.

when you were a child, your father would never sleep if you got sick, he would stay up. sometimes fall asleep beside you, or on the uncomfortable hard wooden chair he'd drag next to your bed.

he would put his head on your heart sometimes late at night anxiously, scared it might've stopped when he accidentally drifted off to sleep.

"listen to me love..." his hands intertwine with yours, his hands calloused from all the days he's spent caring for the soil, or in the war that you never thought would end. "i need to talk about this."

you hum, your hand holding his tightly in yours.

"i'm sorry it had to come to this my love,"

its not another one of his speeches, its a different kind of speech.

"dad..."

"when your mother first told me about this, i thought she was jokin, honest to god" he lets out another laugh "but now..... when i think about it , i cant let ya do that to yerself love..." he shakes his head slightly,

"what?" your eyes look up at him, taking in his features , his dark under eyes, the lines on his face, around his eyes.

"i saved some money yeah? , for when me and your mother might need it. ya can 'ave it." his voice drops to a lower tone

"and do what ?"

"run away."

"run away?" you laugh softly, looking at him with a raised brow "and go where?"

"where ever you want." he smiles softly at you

"you're not serious."

"i am"

you stay silent for a while, processing what he's saying "im not runnin' away dad."

"so you're gonna marry tommy shelby? is that what ya want ? what ya truly want?"

"its what i need to do"

"ya don't"

"so you're gonna go back on your word ,aye? ya gave the man a word after all"

"for you , id break every promise ive ever made."

"dad..." you let out a small smile , his other hand goes to cup your face "i cant do that"

"are ya scared id hate ya? or that id be angry at ya if ya didn't?"

"i cant runaway dad... i cant leave ya" your emotions betray you and they flood through you, your tears start to drop. i cant not be here when you die, when you're buried.

"sometimes i cant believe you're all grown up now,"

"hmm"

"ya were such a lively child"

"you're sayin' im borin' now aye?"

you two share a small laugh, you turn your face and kiss his palm, before closing your eyes "id put myself through anything and everything to keep ya with me for however long i can."

-

@tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator , @theshelbyslimited

[eph3merall]

https://www.tumblr.com/eph3merall/757482194719621120/toxicchris

Please make a part 2 😭😭😭😭😭😭

didnt know how to make a pt 2 to this tho bc i had like NO ideas so hopefully this can suffice 🙁

. . . ( pt 1 )

maybe chris was going just slightly crazy. the second you walked out that door he felt part of his heart get dragged along with you, he just didn't realize it. because you were just another girl, right? there wasn't anything particularly special about you.

maybe he chose to actively ignore the way you were always so thoughtful and sweet and patient. god, patience definitely did not run thin with you, how you always kept waiting and waiting with hope that chris would like you back. that he would magically just admit how much you meant to him, even after shaking his head with a chuckle and teling you the same things over and over again. 'y'aren't anything special, sorry babe. don't go gettin' upset since i don't like you back, okay? remember, 'cus— 'cus i told you you're jus' another girl.'

it was hard to just forget you. how could he, with the lego set you guys built together sitting proudly on his shelf? how could he just forget, with some of your things still littering his room even after he tried cleaning just so he didn't find any of your hair ties or tubes of lip gloss.

chris' heart felt heavy in his chest. he couldn't just linger on the thought of you forever though, which is why he found himself at a party. another party, which means another girl that would probably end up in his bed for the night, and another girl who would probably end up crying over the fact chris wanted nothing serious.

the pretty blonde that perches on his thigh currently is running manicured nails up his chest, purring in his ear and pressing glossy lips to his jawline that was littered with a light stubble. despite the grin adorning his face and the way his cock twitched in his jeans at the sight of the girl, she wasn't you.

no one compared to you. he still had the beaded bracelet you gifted him sitting heavy on his right wrist, the current hand fisting the blonde's hair to arch her back. chris forced himself to focus on the moment, to stop thinking about you and to focus on how nice the girl's pussy gripped his dick.

the night ended with chris showering and laying on his bed with a joint in his hand. he used to share a smoke with you at times, when things got a little too rough and the high was a nice escape from reality. his chest felt heavy, and he wasn't even sure why. was it so hard to admit that he missed you? there was nothing particularly special about you at all, you were just another girl that happened to get caught in chris' web.

in the middle of blowing out a ring of smoke, his phone chimed on his nightstand. for a second his heart jumped, maybe you reached out to him. maybe you apologized and would finally realize that he wasn't the bad guy here. that you were already on your way over. unlocking his phone proved to be a disappointment however, the notification coming from a random girl's number he didn't even remember adding.

chris hasn't blocked your number yet. he isn't sure if you deleted his, but he could assume you probably did with how upset you were when you left. that didn't stop him from sending you a text. his thumb was hitting the 'send' button before realizing what he was doing.

you didn't expect to get a text tonight. cuddled up in bed with a bunch of blankets and some snacks, laptop flipped open to netflix to binge a show you were currently interested in. when you reached for your phone, your face twisted into one of confusion, surprise, and then annoyance at the contact name you renamed 'don't answer'.

"i told you we're over, chris. i don't get why you want to talk things out— no, no you made it clear i was just another girl, right? you didn't give a fuck about that promise—" an argument sparked up and you were yelling into the speaker of your phone not long after, tears burning your eyes out of anger.

and even then chris was asking matt for a quick ride, holding his phone away from him as he told his brother that he'd make things right. he really just wanted to get rid of that stupid feeling in his chest though, which is why chris finds himself standing outside your front door.

he's hanging up and knocking, knowing you're pissed off and might slam the door in his face the second you catch a glimpse of his hair or face. and you do almost shut him out, obviously annoyed and shaken up with how fucking foolish he was—but chris is shoving inside and forcing your body into a tight hug.

because he missed you. he isn't admitting it, not now and not ever, but he ignores your screaming and just asks you to listen for a second. he isn't sure what he craves to achieve right now, but all he knows is that he has a little chance to make things better right now.

"i know, i know i was stupid baby. 'm sorry, okay? okay? i— i'm sorry, and i'll make things right, y'hear? if i can jus' stay the night we can go through my phone together n' delete all those girls' numbers, i promise."

and then he's holding his pinkie out to you, vulnerability and a bit of amusement written across his face as the reality of what he's doing finally set in.

was this good.. i like had no idea how to continue w this but anon i hope u enjoyed 😞 not proofread !!! is it js me who cant STAND to reread something youve written over again?? like i will for fics but like. idk.

—

©eph3merall 2024

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Chapter 5 - Wouldn't It Be Nice?

<<First Chapter - < Prev Chapter - Next Chapter >

Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Dubcon, Plus-sized Reader/OC, female Reader/OC, John introduces Doll to some normal people, Everyone learns new things about each other, Manipulation, PTSD, Doll has a tragic backstory, Doll is kinda sorta Catholic? Who knew (me I knew)

~3.8k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above but honestly this chapter is pretty mild all considered.

Ghost, Soap and Gaz come back a few hours later with the blue sports car (a bit scratched up, but tail-light repaired) and a pick up truck that looks a lot like the one John had before, but a generation older, and green instead of gray. John speaks to them briefly before he coaxes you into the truck and drives off, promising that the others will be gone before you get back.

He drives a few miles down the road, and pulls up in front of a little farmhouse. It looks idyllic, children and a dog playing in the yard. Two people on the porch wave, and John hops out and circles around right quick to open your door and help you down.

The couple trots up to greet you both. "Who's this?" The woman asks, looking at you and beaming. "You finally introducing us to a girlfriend?"

"Doesn't feel like the right word, does it, doll?" John winks at you, like your circumstances are all just a funny little blip, nothing nefarious or terrifying about it.

"No, it doesn't," you agree, keeping your face carefully neutral. "I'm Dalisay. Nice to meet you, um, Melissa, right?" You stick your hand out and shake hers. There’s no sense in being rude to them, just because they know John. He’s probably smart enough to keep his old life, and his boys away from his new one as much as possible.

"The very same! We were a bit worried John was going to be an eternal bachelor. Nice to see he's found someone." She introduces her husband, Rob, and her kids, Hannah, Haley and Jackson, who are ten, seven and five, respectively.

"Do you want to see the puppies?" Haley asks, grabbing your hand. Jackson grabs the other one and they pull you along to the garage, not waiting for an answer. You very deliberately don’t look over your shoulder at John, because you’re fairly sure that he’ll be looking back at you with a sickeningly hopeful expression. His comments from last night still ring in your ears, and you’re not willing to indulge that foolish fantasy of his.

The puppies are in a play pen with high enough walls to contain them, but still allow their mother to hop in and out. She hops out to inspect you, sniffing your outstretched hands warily. Her tail starts to wag after a moment, and you give her a proper pat, smiling. The dog has soft ears and a silky, black and tan coat, but you're not sure what type of dog she is.

"What's her name?" you ask, kneeling down.

"Bonnie-bell," Hannah says. "And our other dog is Charaid."

"Proper Scottish names," you say. The kids all have a slight burr, and although Melissa sounds scouse, it's the first hint as to where you are.

"Da said we was gettin' too English, livin' in London," Haley says. "I like it better here anyway. Mum says maybe we can get some coos. "

"I grew up near Aberdeen," you say. "But I've lived in Manchester too long. Lost my accent."

"No' far off, then, aye? We're only about an hour and a bit south and west," Rob says, appearing at the open garage door to supervise. His stern face looks friendlier now that he knows you're not proper English. "Was worried John dragged some poor city girl out'f England to live out here."

You hum. "Well, I am something of a city girl now. Been in Manchester since I was seventeen."

"Weel, welcome home then," Rob says with a wink. "We'll get ye proper re-acclimated soon enough." He leans over and plucks a puppy out of the sleeping pile inside the pen, and hands it to you. The pup is at the age where its somewhere between looking like a potato and a proper dog, maybe six or seven weeks old. "Gordon setter, by the by," he says. "Good dogs."

"Cute too." You settle the puppy in your lap, petting its soft little head. Bonnie-bell licks your wrist and hops back into the pen to lay down next to the others.

"Ye want one? This girl's no' spoken for yet. John's been hemmin' and hawin' about it, but I figure he wouldna want ta leave ye home alone, neither."

"Oh, I'm not sure I'll be staying that long. I'm only here because there was an incident at my apartment and John wouldn't hear of me staying anywhere else." You're not certain why you're stretching the truth to fit around what he and his wife think is happening, but you have no idea what John would do if you did say something. Maybe he would laugh it off like you were making a joke, or maybe he would snap. You don't really think he would hurt these people, but there's a wide-eyed prey animal in the back of your mind that warns you to be cautious, to be careful.

"We'll talk about it," John says from behind you. You hadn't even noticed his approach, with the noise the kids had made when they dashed back outside. "I'm trying to convince her to stay."

"Ye've gotta buy her a ring, ye daft bastard," Rob says, laughing. "A good catholic girl isna goin' ta wait for you ta get yer head out'f yer arse."

"If you don't, I'll introduce her to some lads in town that will," Melissa threatens. "Pretty girl like her has better options than you, old man. Better make your move before she realizes it." She swats John on the arm playfully.

You laugh nervously, touching the little cross around your neck absently. The puppy in your lap seems to sense your discomfort, because she starts wiggling in your arms and trying to lick your chin, little tail wagging. John kneels down beside you so he can pet the puppy too, eyes creased with a smile. "Is that it, doll? You need me to buy you a ring?"

"John," you say warningly. "We don't need to talk about this right now."

"No, I suppose you've had a rough morning. I'll try again later."

"You're impossible."

"Think you might kind of like that about me," he says.

"Not remotely. I think you're an awful, stubborn man," you tell him. Your voice comes out softer and sweeter than you intend, like you don't really mean it, even though it's true. The smile around his eyes grows deeper.

"I am." He picks up the puppy and holds her up in front of his face. "What do you think, girl?" he asks. The little dog's tail wags furiously, and she answers with a high pitched yip. And then she endears herself to you by trying to bite John’s nose. He looks stunned for a moment, but he grins when you start laughing. “Guess we’re all in agreement then,” he says, setting her down in the pen and standing up.

You accept his hand up, and quickly put a little distance between the two of you, before he anchors you to his side with a solid arm, or tries to reel you in close for a kiss. Rob and Melissa invite you in for a cup of tea, and somehow you end up sitting at a dining room table that’s obviously mostly used for crafts, and handed a piece of blank printer paper by Haley, and told by Jackson that you should draw dragons with them. The walls of the dining room are filled with tacked up juvenile masterpieces— Dragons seem to be a particular fixation of Jackson’s, whereas Hannah and Haley have more varied portfolios.

John stands leaning in the door to the kitchen, talking to Rob and Melissa quietly enough that you can’t quite pick up his words over the children’s chatter. You hate him a little for this, dangling Rob and Melissa’s idyllic little life in front of you. The implication is obvious. We could have this, his blue eyes seem to say when you look his way. Wouldn’t that be nice?

It’s frustrating, and confusing. You want to keep him at arms length for your own safety, but he’s already doing his best to roll right past your doubts and better judgment, like they’re just silly barriers between now and the future he’s dreamed up for the two of you.

And worse, you do want it.

“Didn’t know you were an artist,” he says on the drive back. Jackson had been so excited about the dragon that you drew for him that he’d shown his parents and John.

“There’s a long list of things you don’t know about me,” you say.

"For now. We'll get there, sweetheart."

You hum, looking out the window. Spending time with the Stuarts has you wistful and homesick for something you can't get back. Days like this, you'd usually pour yourself a glass of wine, look through your family photo albums and have a good cry before going to bed early. It's been a while since it's caught up with you like this, but you'd always been reliant on your routine, burying grief in structure and familiarity. "Do we need to?"

"I'd like to."

"I'm not going to be what you want me to be."

John drums his fingers against the steering wheel. "What is it that you think I want?"

"Some little housewife. Someone soft and sweet to come home to."

"You seem plenty soft and sweet to me."

You sigh, pulling your arms around yourself. "I'm not consistent. I don't know what Johnny told you I was like, but he only knows me from work. I'm not like that all the time."

"I don't expect you to be."

"You say that now, but you'll change your mind."

"I'm not stupid enough to change my mind based on a bad day or two, doll. You're allowed to be upset. I wouldn't blame you if you spend the next week slamming doors and snapping at me. I'm still going to like you." He puts a hand on your knee and squeezes gently. Men like him shouldn't be allowed to have such attractive hands, and you shouldn't be attracted to hands like his, scarred knuckles, a few fingers broken and healed crooked. You know he's killed people, know it would be so easy for him to kill you. It turns your stomach that you feel any kind of desire for him at all.

Men like him are no different than the ones that killed your parents. Dealing death is not a noble trade, there's nothing honourable about exporting violence.

You push his hand away, and keep your eyes trained on the window.

He sighs, but he doesn't press the issue, just clicks on the radio to fill the silence.

When you get back to his house he sets you up in a cozy room down the hall from the more open main space where the kitchen is, an office of some kind with a couple of arm chairs and a desk with a clunky looking laptop set on top. The room smells kind of smoky, but you're just glad to have a door you can close while he "moves some things around". He opens the laptop up so you can watch something, but you just curl up in one of the armchairs and fall asleep.

When you wake, the door is open, one of your blankets is draped over you, and there's a mug of tea sitting on the desk, alongside a couple biscuits. You uncurl, your muscles stiff and joints cracking from not moving for too long, and pick up the tea. It's cold, like it had been left a while ago, but you drink it anyway, and eat the biscuits. There's a note underneath, explaining that John had run out to the shops, and that he'd be back by 18:00. You shake your head, and check the time on the laptop. 18:00 exactly.

Military habits must die hard. You imagine he’s usually prompt too, so you wander out into the main room, and put the clean dishes in the rack away. You realize that the living room side has been rearranged, condensed to a slightly smaller footprint, with some open space left by the far corner behind the bigger couch. The smaller leather sofa has been replaced with the little red love-seat from your apartment, and your T.V. is sitting on it’s familiar perch on the refinished credenza that you’d painted twining vines and little red flowers up the side of. You’d found it on by the curb on the Kinsey’s street a few years ago, and your friend Ripley had bused over and helped you carry it all the way back to your apartment.

You’re not sure you like seeing more of your things merging into John’s house, like any of it belongs there when you still want to insist that you’ll be leaving soon. You hate him for being presumptuous, but you can’t help but think it’s sweet, too, that he makes space for you so readily, that he’ll happily include your painted flowers and colourful blankets and bright red couch into space that was all his just twenty four hours ago. That he would leave you tea and biscuits for when you woke up, that he would tuck a blanket around you while you slept. You’re not used to someone wanting to take care of you, and it feels strange.

Strange, but nice too.

You glance at the clock on the wall, realizing that it’s twenty past six, and John still isn’t back. It’s getting darker out there, the sun nearly setting, and as much as you try to tell yourself that you’re not worried, it’s hard to deny the stab of relief when you finally see the truck's lights pull up the wooded drive.

You slip on your trainers and step outside as he parks. He grins at you around a lit cigar as he hops out. “Did you miss me, doll?” he asks, insufferably smug.

“Your note said you’d be back at six,” you say lamely. “I just wasn’t sure if you’re usually on time.”

“Usually am. Got caught talking to Wells, down on the corner. Seems someone drove right through his fence last night. Teenagers, like as not. I’m goin’ to help him fix it tomorrow.”

“Oh.” You grimace. He must know it was really you. “Sorry about that.”

“No harm. By the sounds of it, you’re quite the driver. Soap said you nearly ran him off the road. That what they teach these days?”

“Defensive driving is well and good, but offensive driving gets you the last good spot in the lot,” you say.

He laughs out loud at that, and leans over to pick up a big paper bag from the passenger side. “Here, can you take this in while I grab the groceries?”

You take the bag (which is slightly greasy and smells like curry), and shift it to one hip. “Can I take anything else?”

He nods and hands you a second paper bag, this one with two wine bottles inside. “Wasn’t sure if you liked red or white, so I got both.”

You settle the bags in your arms and turn to walk away. “Bad time to tell you I like rosé hm?” you tease, glancing over your shoulder.

“Terrible timing. But that’s alright. One more thing, doll.”

You turn back toward him, and he’s right there. One big hand cups your jaw and then his lips are on yours, pressing a kiss that tastes like smoke against you. You stand frozen, holding onto your cargo for dear life, too surprised to do anything. It’s just as well, because in that moment you’re not sure if you’d slap him or pull him closer.

He pulls away without trying to deepen the kiss, which is a relief. You’re certain that you’d drop dinner and the wine.

“John, that wasn’t fair.” Your feet are still frozen in place, and his hand is still on your cheek, his fingers threaded into your hair.

His eyes practically sparkle. He’s entirely too pleased with himself. “Not fair because I kissed you, or not fair because I stopped before we got to the best part?”

Your cheeks flame hot, and you pray that he can’t feel it. “You can’t just— You’re impossible.” It takes concentrated effort to take ordinary, measured steps to the door instead of running. The effect he has on you is apparently very obvious. He never would have tried it if he didn’t know you were teetering on the edge of giving in already.

Boundaries need to be set-- Set and followed-- before you can really even contemplate letting this get any further. Unchecked, you have no doubt that John will have you underneath him in a matter of days. Once that happens you know he'll never let you go, and you'll never have peace of mind if you don't really get to know him first. You know he's not as good as he makes himself out to be, but you suspect he's a better man than your deepest fears might whisper to you. He's genuine about his wants, but that's not enough. You need to know him before you can trust him.

You set your packages down on the table and turn to open the door wide for John as he carries a tote full of groceries into the house. “Thanks, doll.”

The paper bag rips when you open it to pull take-out containers out, setting them on the table neatly. "John, can we talk?" You ask, glancing at him as he stows things in the fridge.

"Course, doll. What's on your mind?"

Nerves threaten to choke you, so you take a steadying breath, in and out, trying to quiet the sea of dread that pitches back and forth in your stomach. “You can’t just take what you want from me. Not if you’re serious about wanting this to be something. I’m afraid of you, John, and I’m not going to fight you. If you push me, I’ll fold, and I’ll hate you for it.”

He pauses, holding a box halfway lifted to the cupboard. It takes a moment before he moves again, setting the box on the shelf slowly. The silence is palpable in the room, settling across both of you like a thick blanket of snow. You fold the ripped takeout bag flat, nervous, the crinkle of heavy paper hardly breaking through the rush of blood in your ears, the panic that grips you by the throat. It’s as though the admission has given your body the chance to catch up with everything that’s happened in the last two days.

You’d been drugged and taken from your home, you’d been handed off to someone you didn’t know, with no clear indication if you’re free to leave or not, you’ve been picked up and manhandled and shot at.

Darkness flickers in the corners of your vision. All you can hear is the pounding of your own heart, the sick, dizzying drums of war, and high pitched ringing like a flat-lining hospital monitor, and screaming, and the rapid burst of machine gun fire. No. The screaming you hear is just in your head, the gunshots aren’t real, they can’t be. It’s not happening, it’s over, it’s been over for a decade, you’re safe.

Except you’re not safe.

Hands land on your shoulders. You lash out, fists striking something solid, knocking the hands away. You have to get away, you have to hide until it goes quiet again. Arms wrap around you in a tight hug, stilling your thrashing limbs and bringing you down to the floor gently.

“Doll! Dalisay, sweetheart, you’re alright, come back.” The voice has authority. You know that voice. It rumbles, shaking loose memory. “Come on, love, breathe slow. You’re okay.” You breathe in, warm spice and tobacco smoke, not burning petrol, not scorched flesh. You’re kneeling on the floor, and John is holding you tight, thighs bracketing yours.

The fight melts out of your limbs.

You’re not safe, but you’re not in danger either. John loosens his hold on you and cups your face, his worried face eclipsing all else. “Doll, where’d you go?” he asks. “What happened?”

“Panic attack,” you lie, because that’s easier to say than My parents were killed in a terrorist attack while we were visiting London ten years ago and sometimes I get so stressed out that I forget it’s not still happening. “I’m fine, I’m sorry.”

“That wasn’t a panic attack, doll. Worked with Simon long enough to recognize PTSD. You were somewhere else.”

It’s hard to imagine that Ghost is as fallible, as human as you are, but you suppose there’s no shortage of opportunities for even the the biggest, toughest military men to to wade hip deep in trauma. The worst day of your life would be just another mission for them. The worst day of their lives would probably kill you outright.

"Yeah, I guess it was," you admit haltingly. "Everything just caught up with me. I won't let it happen again."

He shakes his head. "Did I set it off? I need to know— I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”

"No, it's not like that. It’s just stress. It's been building since I got here."

"I guess that's what you meant in the truck, huh?"

You nod weakly. "I don't think I can explain it any better right now. But maybe tomorrow."

"Alright." John sighs, some of the tension in his shoulders releasing. " I don't want you to be afraid of me, doll."

"Then you're going to have to give me time, and space. I need to know what kind of man you are. And you should get to know who I am too.” There’s a wrinkle in his shirt, so you fixate on that rather than look right at him, smoothing it out with your fingers. “Let’s worry about becoming friends, for now. And then we can see if there’s something more.”

He doesn’t like that, you can tell by the way he pulls his hands back, reluctant to let go of you. But still, he nods, and smiles ruefully after a moment. “Guess I’m not as patient as I think I am. Too eager to get to the good part.”

You laugh lightly, the sound shaky from frayed nerves. “John, if we can be kind to each other, and come to an understanding, then it’s all the good part. You can’t build the things you want on foundations like this and hold it all together with sheer force of will.”

“You sure about that?" he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. "I’ve heard I’m pretty stubborn.”

Your eyes flick up to meet his. You still feel unsettled, your heart still pounding, your stomach still roiling with anxiety. The emotion in those blue eyes is something you can't identify, something fathomless that strikes you with a foreign kind of fear, the kind that's shot through with hope that you shouldn't feel.

“You don’t know me too well yet, John,” you say gently, “but so am I.”

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

[toxicanonymity]

Silence can never be bought, only rented.

pt. 2 of 6, 2.5k | dbf!Joel x fem!reader | 18+

picks up after Pt 1 . Story Master List

Joel Miller List

“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat. As he pulls his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair. The glimpse makes your knees weak.

Thank you @dark-scape for the mini mood boards!

Warnings/notes: no-outbreak AU. Reader confident in string bikini, there may be more to joel than meets the eye. Legal age gap. Masturbation. cumshot. Kinda dom reader. i don't know all triggers, not used to detailed warnings in my usual fandoms sorry

NEXT: PART 3

Catch up on Part 1

-----

It's June in Texas.  You packed your swimsuit this weekend.  You don't know why Joel would wear a jacket in this weather anyway.  Hopefully he doesn't fuck your stepmother while he's breaking it off.  In the big scheme of things, one more time wouldn't make much of a difference. It's more about the fact that he's your property now.  

-

Back at your friend's place, you plug in your phone across the room while you settle in to watch another movie.  Her new sound system is badass, so you don't hear it when your phone rings, but she does. 

She’s a lot closer to it than you are, so you tell her she can send it to voicemail.  She leans over and looks at the screen. 

“Joel." Her eyes widen. "DILF Joel??”

You scrunch your face up.  “Gross, he's like 50.”   

“Okay, what does non-DILF Joel want?”  She rightfully uses finger quotes around "non." In the back of your mind, you always knew Joel was hot.  It turns out, you had no idea.  

You sigh,  “Probably just checking on me while my Dad is away.”  You're tempted to tell her–at least the part where Joel is fucking your stepmother–but for now, you don't.  You enjoy being the only one who knows and could ruin both of them.

“So why not answer?” 

“Guess I just don’t feel like talking.” 

She looks at you sympathetically.  She knows why you came home this weekend.  You needed a change of scenery after things got messy with a guy you were seeing.  “I get it,” she says.  “But I promise you’re gonna be over him before you know it.  Then on to the next,” she smiles.  

If only it were that easy.  You really don’t feel like going back and facing life.  Technically Chad is right, you never defined your relationship or agreed to be exclusive.  But you spent so much time together, and he said he loved you.  You know he’s a chode and not at all worth your tears.  You just hate feeling so powerless.  On the plus side, you've barely thought about Chad at all since the moment you first saw Joel's truck this weekend. 

Your phone dings.  Your friend looks at it.  

“Who leaves voicemail?” she asks. It dings again and her face gets serious.  "Oh, shit.  You should really call him. He said Trouble."

"That's just what he calls me."  You suppress a smirk at the nominal determinism. 

"Oh, yeah. Ugh. I hate that I'm gonna miss the HOG barbecue this year. " 

HOG. . . Hot Old Guy.  She really tickles herself pink with that.  Your dad and Joel cook out at Joel's pool every independence day with a couple of other friends, and you normally bring her.  

Your phone dings again.  She looks at the screen and side-eyes it. 

"What?" You ask 

"You should block Chad." 

You feel a rush of satisfaction followed by shame as you eagerly go over and look at the phone.  

Chad: miss u already. 

In a way, it’s the best possible message, but seeing the dumb way he writes, your shame is replaced by anger.  

"God what an asshole," you fume. You don't respond. 

-

You finish watching the movie, and eventually start catching up on Joel's texts. Come out and talk to me for one minute.  A pit forms in your stomach. He was here? Are you that predictable? 

When it's time to leave and you get to your car, there's a note.  It's the same one you left on Joel's truck, the one that said You're sick. There's a response scrawled under your writing: 

You have no idea.  

Your heart races as you look around the street.   How dare he? And why are your cheeks burning?

You start driving back to your apartment. It’s well under two hours away, it's still afternoon, and you don’t know what you'll do with the day when you get back.  Laundry, you guess.  You can hardly bear the thought of being back there alone with your thoughts. 

-

Instead of 35 South to San Antonio, you find yourself on Joel's street.  Joel is a successful contractor and has a nice house.  Comically high-security, too.  Today, the gate is already disarmed, so you don't have to put in the code or talk to him.   You park in his big wraparound driveway, grab your bag, and head around back.  The pool gate is disarmed, too. You enter the code to the pool house door.  

When you walk in, the air conditioning blasts on and it's freezing.  Kind of obnoxious in a state with a power grid crisis.  You throw your stuff down on the big couch, not bothering to go any further.  You strip down to your underwear, ass facing the window.  Then you put your swimsuit cover-up over your underwear.  Feigning modesty, you take your underwear out from under the cover-up and replace it with your two-piece. 

When you come out, Joel is sitting in a zero gravity lounge chair across the pool in front of the big glass windows of his house.   When you see him, your heart skips a beat, even though it’s no surprise.  It’s like when you’ve been thinking about someone so much they practically become a celebrity in your mind, even if they don’t deserve it.  

You bring your bag out to the deck and sit across the pool from him. He’s wearing the same tight, blue t-shirt and jeans. Now he has on Ray Bans and flip flops instead of boots.

You slather your sunscreen on as he watches.  He doesn't bother pretending not to watch.  You slip your hands inside the cups of your bikini top, lotioning up your breasts.  He adjusts himself, which sends a tingling rush to your core.  

-

Once your sunscreen is dry, you wade into the pool.  You walk around aimlessly, then swim over to his side, keeping your head above water.  When you get to the edge, you rest your forearms on the deck, then put your head down on the crook of your arm and float your legs behind you.  

“Come to give me my jacket?” he asks. 

“I don’t know how you’re wearing jeans, much less a jacket." You lift your head to look at him.

“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat.  

He stands up, and as he's pulling his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair.  The glimpse makes your knees weak.  He pulls the elastic waistband up and leaves the boxers on.  He sits down again and crosses his ankles.

You ask, “How’d it go?”

“Oh, about how you’d expect.”

“How long were you fucking her?”

“Does it matter?”

“You’re gonna tell me everything I ask.”

“Few months.  Look, Trouble, I’m human at best.  She came onto me.”

“Knew you’d say that.” 

“What if I could prove it?”

You don’t say anything.  He takes out his phone and scrolls for a while, then brings it to the edge of the pool.  You watch his heavy quads quake with each step but avert your eyes while he bends his knees.  You have no interest in seeing his balls or anyone else’s.  His boxers tighten around his muscular thighs as he sits down and lowers his feet into the pool right next to you.  

“There,” he says, handing you his phone.  You can barely see in the sunlight and don’t really care who initiated it anyway.

“Why don’t you just get a girlfriend?” you ask. 

“You wanna set me up?” he smiles.  “Got any single friends?”

“Why don’t you ask Sarah? She’s older than me.”

He grabs his chest like you shot him. Sweat is blotching his softwash t-shirt already.

You hand his phone back.  

"There's one inside for you," he says. "It's on the counter." He gestures through the window. 

"One what?"

"iPhone pro.  Since you can't seem to answer whatever piece of crap you're using." 

"What do I need an iphone pro for?" 

"They didn't have the regular one in blue." 

Your favorite color is a nice touch, but an iPhone isn't going to make this all go away.  

-

"How’s it goin’ with what’s his name?”

“Chad? It’s not.” You hate him for bringing up Chad. You harden your face, but it isn't convincing. 

Joel nods regretfully and there's a long moment of silence.  

“You’re better than him, Trouble."

You don't say anything. 

"Shit, you can have any guy you want.”  

You can't see his eyes behind his shades, but something in his voice tells you how hungrily he's looking at you.  

You still don't say anything. 

Joel stretches his leg and the top of his foot grazes your quad, then your inner thigh.  All your blood rushes to your loins.  You don't move.  He strokes your other inner thigh with the arch of his foot, getting a little higher with each pass.  A tent forms in his boxers and he adjusts himself again.  

“See what you do to guys?” The top of his foot brushes your crotch and you throb.  When he tries to slip a toe inside the fabric, you float out of reach. 

“You’re not a guy, you're a grown man.” 

"Exactly. And he's just a guy."

"A grown man and a pervert." A wave of anger hits you when you remember your stepmother. "And apparently you'll fuck anything."

If he's still listening, he ignores it.  

-

“God damn.  Look at you.”  He shamelessly palms himself over his boxers and suddenly his body is the only thing on your mind again:  The way his naked ass flexed while he looked at you.  The length of his cock slamming into her when he came.  And now it's right there for your taking.  Your core churns needily, slickening itself for what it desperately wants.  Too bad he doesn't deserve it. 

“Yeah. . . ” Your hands slowly reach behind your back to unfasten your top as you sink down into the water. "Look at me," you echo as you take the halter over your head. 

You lie back with your nipples above the water line, lazily floating and barely pushing yourself around in the water, watching him watch you.  

He takes a deep breath and his lips part.  He digs the heel of his palm into his boxers. You grip the deck with one hand.  You hover just far away enough that he can't touch you.  He picks up his phone, swipes it, puts it down. He exhales through pursed lips and adjusts himself again.

"Take it out," you tell him, then lean back,  jutting your tits into the air again.

 "Yes ma'am," he growls. 

He reaches into his boxers and holds his hard cock with the tip pointed toward you. 

"The whole thing." You nod at it.  

He pulls the fabric back. 

"Now take your hands away."

"God almighty," he groans as he complies. He sits back with his hands on the pool deck.  

Big mistake if your goal is to stay in control. This is going to take more restraint than you thought. 

"Take off your sunglasses," you demand. 

The sky is getting cloudy enough. He complies. 

It’s the only cock you’ve ever seen that actually makes you salivate. Thick, slightly tapered, circumcised, prominent tip.  Salt and pepper peeking out from the fabric and creeping up the base.  You recall for the hundredth time how he felt pressed up against you by your car the night before.

Your nipples harden and his cock bounces on its own.  He inhales deeply through his nose, his chest stretching his sweaty t-shirt. You wet your lips and he exhales loudly.  You approach his knees and rest your hands on his thighs, letting your nipples graze his shins. His phone buzzes and he ignores it. 

A bead of precum grows at the head of his cock.  He clenches his jaw.  

“Go ahead,” you tell him as you back away.  He gathers the precum with his thumb and begins to stroke himself slowly.  He’s proportional - His massive hand is a good fit.

“I’m gonna put this back on in two minutes,” you tell him, dangling your swimsuit top in your hand. 

He shakes his head slowly.  “Yeah, you would.” 

He looks down at himself then back up at you.  His eyes darken.  The vein on his hand makes you weak - his big, masculine hand wrapped around his thick cock. . . 

His breath becomes ragged, his eyelids get heavy. 

You disappear below the water, and when you resurface, you come to the edge of the pool between his legs.  You plant your hands just above his knees and inhale his musk from several inches away as you watch.  

“Thirsty?” he breathes. 

“Hell no.  Just wanna see what a sicko's cum looks like.” 

He smirks, then it fades. The dark, hungry look on his face makes you breathe heavier, throb harder, and twitch.

His ass clenches and he points the tip directly at your neck, then he groans as a hot, white rope meets your collarbone and the halter tie.  A few more ropes gurgle into his fist.  

“Gross,” you say.  But you ache for him so badly.  “You know, a gentleman always asks.” 

“I'm a sicko, remember?" He dips his hand in the pool, shakes it around, then wipes his hands on his boxers and puts his dick away. "Give me a minute." 

-

You dip your head under the halter tie of your bikini top to put it back on, but you let  it float, not covering your breasts. He pushes himself up and grabs his phone.  He looks at it and says under his breath, "gotcha, pendejo.”  Then tells you, "I've gotta make a call."  He pulls on his jeans but leaves them unbuckled.  Somehow, that’s even hotter than his pantsless look, but you’re miffed that he got dressed so quickly. 

You would've made him take off his shirt, but you love the way it stretches with every move he makes.  Half of it is dark with sweat now.  His back is a sight to behold as he walks over to the watertight, faux wicker box with the dry towels.  You squeeze your thighs together and clench around nothing.  

He pulls out two perfectly folded towels and you wonder out loud, "Are you fucking your maid, too?"

"Not this one," he says matter of factly.  He drops a towel on the deck near you, then goes into the house. 

-

He stands in his large window, spreads his feet as he does something on his phone, then looks at you as a water jet blasts into your thigh right at crotch level.  

How devious of him.  

You shift your hips slightly, just like he knew you would, and try to manage your best poker face as you let the jetstream carry you over the edge. You close your eyes before they roll back in your head.  Your core implodes and your whole body pulses as a much-needed orgasm is wrenched out of you.  Your mouth falls slack and you open your eyes in time to see him watching you with his phone to his ear.  He smirks as the jetstream fades, then walks away. 

-

You lay your head in the crook of your arm and let your bikini float near your breasts as you recover, with the occasional aftershock.  Then, you hear his truck start up and drive away.  Asshole.

[d-dixonimagines]

PROMPT REQUEST from this list from @daryls-wife

A/N: I'm sorry it took so long to get this posted! I honestly have no idea what my plan was for this one, the direction changed every time I started over! But nevertheless, I hope you still like it! Warnings: mild language, a lot of typos probably

PROMP 17: "You're bleeding--how long have you been hiding this?"

A lot had happened the past few days while you and Daryl were out doing an exchange with The Kingdom; giving weapons in exchange for some crates of fruits and vegetables. It was a never ending run-in with walkers, a couple encounters with lone individuals who were desperate enough to try and steal some of the food you were bringing back.

For as short of a trip this was supposed to be you were completely exhausted. Eventually you convinced Daryl to stop for the night, though he didn't fully understand why you felt you needed to when you were so close to home. It was only a few more hours, but you were desperate as well.

Finding a run down convenience store, you cleared the area for walkers and tried to make yourselves comfortable. Daryl found a spot on the floor by the window, adjusting his position against the hard tile. "I don't think we'll be gettin' much sleep, my ass is already goin' numb," he grumbled as he moved once more before finally settling.

"I'm sorry," you smiled a little in response. "I just needed a break. We can keep going and make it back before it gets too late, but I really just need to rest for a while." You settled next to him, moving slowly and wincing slightly when your side brushed against one of the crates.

"Nah, we'll be ok. Looks like we might get some rain anyway." You nodded in agreement. Daryl watched you for a moment. "You doin' ok, though?" he asked gently, noticing how you sat down. "Yeah, I'm good. I'm just sore, and my feet are killing me. It's probably time to be on the lookout for different shoes."

He gave a nod, not really responding. The rest of the evening went on pretty much like that. Small talk here and there. Daryl took watch first and let you sleep before switching a few hours later. You got going again just before the sun came up, arriving back at Alexandria as people were starting their day.

After getting the crates dropped off where they needed to be, you and Daryl headed back to your shared abode and planned on relaxing a bit before tending to whatever else needed to be done. "I'm gonna take a long shower, if anyone needs to find me." Daryl nodded, his eyes catching glimpse of your side and a wet sticky substance that was seeping through the fabric of your shirt.

He caught your arm to stop you. "You're bleedin'... how long have you been hidin' this?" You turned your body slightly so his hand would drop. "It's nothing, just a scrape from a scuffle we had with a walker." "On which day?" His gaze was direct, probably already guessing when it had happened. You hesitated a second before answering.

"When we were at the tracks.." "That was three days ago." "Yeah, so? I told you, it's nothing." There was another silence. You knew it was more serious than you were trying to let on, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle. You just needed to clean it and bandage it up and you'd be good as new.

"Can I see it, then?" You gave a defeated sigh and peeled the shirt back so he could take a look. "I was going to go to the infirmary after my shower," you defended. "Why didn't'cha just say somethin'?" "I didn't want to turn it into a bigger deal than it was. We were close enough to here that I knew you would have probably made me turn back, and I didn't want to leave."

"Comin' back wouldn't've been a big deal. Waitin' three days and practically bein' forced to acknowledge is what's doin' that, let alone the risk you put yerself in for infection. So now it is a big fuckin' deal." You dropped your hands and took a step back, wanting to just walk away from the conversation. You knew he was coming from a place of protection and concern, but you didn't have the patience or the energy to be scolded at.

"I have it under control, Daryl. I can take care of myself." You turned and headed for the bathroom, Daryl following close behind. "I know ya can, just wish you'd be more open about stuff like this. If you're hurt, you should be able to tell me.." "Oh, because you're so open with me? Mr. guy who leaves for weeks at a time without saying a single word about it? Open like that?" "That's different and you know that."

You shook your head. "It's really not. Your reasons might be different, but the concept is still the same." You walked over to the tub and sat down on the edge, feeling sick and drained, and you didn't know if it was because you were tired and hungry or if it was because of the aching, oozing wound on your side. All bets were probably on the latter.

"...I don't feel so hot.." you placed your hand on your forehead. "I mean, I do feel hot, but still..." "A fever's probably settin' in. We should get to the infirmary." Daryl helped you up, with zero protests from you, and let you to the doctor. At some point you must have passed out because the next thing you remember was waking up in a bright room and Daryl right next to you.

"Mornin', sunshine," he smirked slightly. "What happened?" "Ya passed out on the way here from dehydration and an infection startin' to set in. The doc got ya fixed up, though, so you'll be okay."

You nodded, processing the information. You hadn't realized how bad it had gotten. There was a silence that fell between you, and you could tell that he wanted to say more.

"If you want to say 'I told you so', go ahead and do it," you chuckled slightly. "I can see that you want to." He shook his head. "That's not what I wanna say, I'm not gonna rub anythin' in, I just.. I hated seein' you like that. Ya can't mess with infections." His tone was soft. "I know... I'm sorry," you whispered. "I'm also really sorry about picking that fight with you earlier. I didn't intend for anything to go that far."

"That was just the fever talkin', yer good. I'll make a deal with ya, though.." "Oh, yeah? What deal is that?" "I'll open up more about stuff if you will. Doesn't hav'ta be everythin', just if you're hurt or going somewhere. We just check in with each other. That sound fair?"

You let out a quiet sigh and paused a moment before agreeing, hoping he wasn't making that deal because he felt like he had to. Him leaving didn't have to be anybody else's business, it was just disappointing when you couldn't find him and found out from someone else that he left.

You weren't complaining about the deal itself, though. You were relieved that he was going to start saying something, but you hoped he was doing that because he wanted to and not just because he thought that was the only way to get you to open up. "That sounds like a fair deal." You gave a smile regardless, accepting it all for what it was.

"Alright then.." he gave a satisfied nod. "I got us some food. I figured you'd probably be hungry when you woke up." "Yes, please, I'm starving!" Your eyes brightened as he handed you a plate of food, some eggs and fruit from the crates you brought back. As bad as things got, you were relieved that it wasn't any worse, and you felt pretty lucky to have Daryl by your side through all of it.

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Probably Nothing ||

Frank Castle x female reader

Tags/warnings: pet names, kissing, grinding, intense fingering.

Here's the plot I couldn't write. 🤣 This one goes out to all my Frank girlies who just need a break. ❤️

You've already had a shit day, and coming home to be greeted by the sight of Frank lounging on the couch with his big dirty boots resting on the coffee table is just one fucking annoying thing too far. You grit your teeth as you throw your stuff in a pile on the floor before stalking over to him.

"Hi sweetheart, how was your day?"

"Off!" You snap at him, your face like brewing thunder.

He doesn't move his feet, just looks at you for a second, reading your expression, considering.

"Okay. That good huh?"

You kick at his boot, not in the mood for games. "Get them off the fucking table, Frank."

He lifts his legs down one at a time. You spin on your heel but before your can move Frank leans out slipping his arm around your waist and yanking you off your feet and into his lap.

"Fuck off Frank! I've got shit to do, let me go!" You hiss.

He keeps his arms snug around you as you're facing him, just tight enough that you can't struggle against and away from his ridiculous strength.

"An I'll let ya get right to it in a minute darlin', but there's something I gotta do first."

You huff and hmph as you finally quit wriggling around realising you're getting nowhere, the warmth of his embrace starting to penetrate through the armour of your bad mood.

"What? What is it?" You demand, annoyed that he's just smiling up at you with that big dumb face of his.

He answers your question with a little peck on your cheek, that's it, just a quick chaste kiss and he's back studying you again. You scowl at him, unmoved.

"Frank… c'mon I don't have time for this."

He cocks his head and hmms before kissing you again on the cheek three more times. He's softer with it, taking his time, moving his mouth closer to yours with each kiss. You turn your head to say something but the words are halted, smooshed to a muffled mumble as he captures your lips in his. The kiss is still so soft, his bottom lip brushing your top one, the slightest bit of tongue flicking up, just testing the waters.

You sigh and he starts to reel you in, taking advantage of the prickly guard you've let down, kissing you so very tenderly as he feels your body gradually begin to loosen in his hold. He tugs gently on your lower lip with his teeth before licking over it and you open up slightly for him as his hand comes to caress your lower jaw. His kiss goes a little deeper now, soft sighs escaping you between the teases of his tongue against yours. But now you don't want teasing, you want more. Every so often he'll break off the kiss, his eyes flicking up to meet yours and he'll smile. Then you realise you're smiling back.

"Mm, oh I think we might be gettin' somewhere." He decides before weaving his fingers through your hair and guiding you back to his gorgeous mouth. You shift in his lap, legs spreading either side of his own and he helps you, his free hand skimming over the curves of your body as he's kissing you deep again. Small sounds begin to float in the air between you, soft encouraging ones from him, and contented moans from you. You slide your hands up and down his chest, and he chuckles at the minute rocking movements you're making with your hips.

"Yeah, there we go…" he rumbles against your ear with a grin before he tugs your lobe then caresses that sweet spot below it with his lips.

"Frank…"

His big hands wander all over your body, kneading at the fullness of your ass, sliding up to your waist, and massaging your tits through your pretty summer dress. He manhandles you to turn around, your back against his chest. Confusion crosses your face but he kisses it away and everything's forgotten as he lifts up the hem of your dress and starts rubbing his thick fingers up and down your pussy through the soft cotton of your panties. All the while he keeps kissing the column of your neck, occasionally gently holding your jaw in his fingers to turn your head so he can plunge his tongue into your wanting mouth.

He hums with satisfaction as you grind back on his crotch, keeps on stroking you until you're whining, almost soaking completely through your underwear with how pent up and horny he's got you now.

"Shhhh, s'alright. I got all night to make you feel good ain't I, baby?"

You automatically nod, lax in his arms as he lazily circles your throbbing clit through the fabric.

"Mnh, Frank, please-"

His scruff rubs against your face as he peppers kisses along your jaw and down your neck while he squeezes your breast, pinching and rubbing at your peaked nipple making you squeak in need and frustration.

"I know, I know. You good now, feelin' better?" he asks, as if it's not obvious that your shitty mood has all but dissipated into dust. You shake your head as you lean back against his shoulder, thighs spreading wider in anticipation of him giving you what you need.

"Aw you need more sweets? Yeah…" he pulls the damp crotch of your panties to the side and you're writhing as he runs a thick finger between your glistening pussy lips. He adds another, gathering and spreading your arousal over your core. He taps at the little swollen bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs and gives your pussy a slap causing you to buck your hips up with a yelp.

"Good girl," he drawls as the slick pads of his fingers drum over your clit and you moan.

When he finally stops teasing and slides his middle two fingers inside, you call out his name in a pathetic needy little whine.

"Frankie!"

"Mmhm." He responds as he slowly fucks you with them, massaging the very depths of you as he curls them. He keeps playing with your tits as he plays with your cunt, and you're so fucking turned on and wet you're dripping over his hand as he amps up the pace. You can't shut up, mewls and moans echoing around the apartment along with the sloppy wet noises from Frank thrusting his fingers in and out of you so hard and fast you think you could come from just that.

"Yeah, that's it baby, my dirty fuckin' princess." He growls next to your ear as he feels your inner walls gripping around him. "Attagirl. You let go f'me, just let go pretty girl, let me hear you, lemme hear my pretty girl come."

Your legs are shaking, pushing up off of him, up off the couch but he's got you, he's always got you. Embarrassingly loud squelching sounds only add to the mess you're making as you're leaking all over the crotch of his jeans. He's fucking you so fast and filthy, bringing his other hand down to rub your engorged clit and it feels so fucking good. You're so close to coming, you can feel the giant, impending monster wave of it rising higher and higher until finally, it reaches its peak…

Your orgasm floods through you, your hips jerking hard as Frank keeps on pushing his fingers in and out as you're pulsing around them, gradually slowing down as he follows your body's movements. You gasp and curse some more, your ribcage expanding and contracting like you've just run a marathon.

"Uhhhh, ohgodohgodohfuck- Fraaank! I'm gonna- I'm gonna-!"

When the last aftershocks fade you finally still, and Frank slowly, carefully withdraws, sucking the sodden digits into his mouth and licking them clean.

"Okay. You can go do your stuff now."

You lay limp on him, completely, utterly, and literally fucked out. it takes you a couple of minutes to get your brain back in gear.

"I- I don't remember what I was gonna do…"

Frank just smiles and kisses the side of your face. "Probably nothin' important then."

You hum in agreement, closing your eyes as you continue to catch your breath, your entire body still vibrating with bliss.

"Yeah, probably nothing."

😉

[simplepotatofarmer]

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Dream & Technoblade - Desert

mirage

The map was useless; never ending brown stretching out to the edges of the cream paper it was printed on. Dream would have thrown it away but there was some comfort in looking at it, trying to piece together the location he was currently and where he was supposed to be going. A security blanket that probably would've been more helpful if it had been an actual blanket.

He wiped his hand across his brow, careful not to get sweat or the tiny grains of sand that clung to him in his eyes.

"This is so stupid," he said and the desert swallowed his words in silence. For a brief moment, Dream shivered, cold.

Hours ago, he had removed his armor. It was heavy and dark and trapped heat and he would have more of a chance against an opponent without armor than he would against the beating sun. He trudged on.

And he trudged on, only stopping when the sun was high in the sky and there was a small mound of sandstone to press his back against. There was terracotta mixed in and Dream checked the map once more, looking for any landmark that could match up to whatever this had once been. Nothing. He should head back, he knew that, but somewhere out in this desert was an old village and in it was a library and, possibly, a book.

If it's still there, thought Dream, not wanting to speak out loud again.

Using his overshirt as paltry shade, Dream closed his eyes, the cold bones of the sandstone lulling him to sleep.

He woke when a shadow fell over him.

He stared up, trying to make sense of what he was seeing, wondering sluggishly if he had died or gone crazy from the heat. Either was possible and more plausible.

"You alive there, man?" asked Techno.

Blinking, Dream pushed himself upright, hands slipping on the sand covered stone. The tiny granules digging into his palms felt real. He pulled his shirt down and wiped his face with the hem.

"What the fuck?"

Techno crouched down, the brim of his wide, floppy hat almost hitting Dream. He wore no armor, no bright red cloak like usual, but a loose white shirt and baggy tan pants.

"Hullo to you, too, Dream."

"What-- What are you doing here?" His brain felt like it was slowly beginning to move but in the wrong direction, the question not the one he really wanted an answer to.

"I can't make sure a friend doesn't die of heatstroke?"

Techno shifted where he was crouching, hooves leaving marks in the sand. He glanced out across the desert, away from the rocky mound. Dream frowned. Confusion and relief and a little bit of fear all swirled around in his chest.

"What- Wait. How did-- How did you find me?" he asked, closer to the question he really wanted to ask but not quite. Maybe he was afraid of that question and the answer.

"Ah." Techno sat next to Dream, his back also against the sandstone. "I have my ways, I have my ways... Also it wasn't that hard when Tommy wouldn't shut up about seeing you head out this way."

"Heh."

It made sense. It was even funny and Dream grinned. Next to him, Techno was watching him with concern but chuckled when Dream let out his quiet huff of laughter.

"Yeah, he thinks you're up to something but apparently the only thing you're up to is gettin' lost and dyin' of dehydration," Techno said.

"I'm not dying," said Dream and rolled his eyes, ignoring how dry they felt.

"Oh, sure, sure. You just normally look like a corpse."

Dream tilted his head.

"Well, to be fair, after the prison..."

The laugh Techno gave was choking, surprised, and he shook his head. Strands of pink hair stuck out from his braid and he flicked one of his ears.

"Alright, you got me there, man."

"Yeah."

Dream leaned his head against the rock. The sun was lower in the sky now, waves of heat visible off the sand. There was silence but it didn't feel as ominous now.

"D'you find what you were lookin' for?"

With a sigh, Dream brushed some sand off his pants.

"No. You- You could help me."

"I dunno." Techno frowned, looking over at Dream. "I only brought enough water to get across this stretch of desert then back. Speakin' of, you look like you could use a drink."

"Right," said Dream, as he pulled out his canteen and took a sip, the first one he had had in hours. It made sense; from Techno's perspective this was a rescue mission and nothing more. Or it was Dream's subconscious telling him what he already knew. Both scenarios led to the same conclusion. He took a deep breath. "Are... Are you real?"

"Heh? I'm real." Techno held out his arm in front of Dream. "You wanna pinch me and make sure?"

"No." Once more there were two answers that led to the same outcome and either Dream could make the trek back alone or with company, real or imagined. "Alright. Let's go."

@sixteenth-day-event

[inkmemes]

never stop blowing up  (  2024-  )  e02 : and that's whirred up sentence  starters ↪  taken  from  dimension 20's 22nd season.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“i'm just a lanky boy.”

“hello! nobody's home.”

“don't mess with brooklyn.”

“and what if i swallow it?”

“i wish you wouldn't.”

“i'm not hearing no!”

“it's beautiful.”

“you gettin' a little fucked up already?”

“i mean, i feel pretty fucked up.”

“that's for… that's for me? you want me to put that in my body?”

“okay, why don't you try some first?”

“you all right? you're looking a little green around the gills.”

“we can't afford this.”

“oh, um… i'm just being funny today.”

“i didn't get it. it didn't seem funny to me.”

“when you do drugs, sometimes you have ego death and it doesn't feel like you're you anymore.”

“this is paid for? this is, we got this? this is fine?”

“what are you asking?”

“i actually thought we were bonding.”

“wait, so you're not mad at me?”

“nothing you could do would ever make me mad.”

“i'd date him.”

“god, cutie alert.”

“this guy brought dogs to a nightclub!”

“he's really old. he has like, no teeth.”

“just taking notes on a fucking conspiracy.”

“see, when someone doesn't answer right away, you feel the need to keep going.”

“oh, okay, so you're making accusations.”

“i'm like, a little nervous that we left things in a weird place.”

“i don't even know this guy.”

“snort some and then sell the rest for money.”

“i don't want me to be happy!”

“i guess let's have some more of these drinks.”

“i didn't write down where i was supposed to go.”

“what's going on?”

“oh my god, he's dead.”

“you're on top of a building.”

“wait, a man just jumped off of a building?”

“i think [name] is attracted to this man.”

“is this a gun?”

“wait! come with me!”

“did i love him?”

“it was all a blur. i was getting thrown around like you can't believe.”

“yeah, he really gave it to, huh?”

“i wanna go out on the town.”

“we don't have the same room?”

“he left me up here on the street?”

“that was cool, man. i don't know what you want me to say.”

“i've been shot!”

“i've never been in a hotel this nice.”

“it's so hot. it's so hot.”

“there's dead guys all over the ground.”

“the floor is sleek with blood.”

“don't know how to spell that.”

“what the fuck?”

“sneak is like their primary fucking thing.”

“it's crazy that they just straight-up advertise that.”

“dude, this movie fucking rules!”

“i'm gonna need that from you.”

“tell me what i was supposed to do.”

“i think he's just starting to sweat.”

“you are wearing a tuxedo, baby.”

“just getting my sea legs, man.”

“could you send me a ping?”

“come on, man. we got bigger fish to fry. you gonna get hung up on this right now?”

“i've watched this.”

“i can't wait to see you.”

“i'm not the only one feeling pressure.”

“i'm probably not even gonna show up to work.”

“you told me what to do, i'm gonna do it, no argument.”

“i hate doing what people tell me to do.”

“he didn't think you were a shithead. there was trust there.”

“you were given an impossible thing to do.”

“i'm going so fast.”

“i'm still on my learner's permit!”

“i don't know who you're talking about!”

“does it look like the car is like, toast?”

“get outta there. those guys are some bad dudes.”

“i fucking love it.”

“i didn't know!”

“i fucking think it's a great fucking choice.”

“none of these are good enough.”

“[name], i thought you were dead.”

“that's why he hates me and that's why he stabbed me.”

“that's why he hates me and in turn why i hate him.”

“that was a weird interaction you just had.”

“oh, don't worry. i'm not gonna do anything with it. i'm just kinda holding it 'cause it feels necessary.”

“they can take care of themselves.”

“i'm getting it under control.”

“oh my god. this must be my fault. what did i do?”

“i hate new technology.”

“how the hell did you get that number? never call me on that line.”

“they're dancing together.”

“why the fuck are you calling me at the bureau?”

“can i get a second one?”

“oh fuck, they're all dead. they're all fucking dead.”

“goddamn it! [name], did you fuck us?”

“no, don't you fucking hang up on me!”

“we are gonna find a way to make this right.”

“did you get nabbed by the feds? what happened?”

“what do they want you to do?”

“but you know who you are.”

“it made so much sense in my brain.”

“what are you talking about?”

“yes! oh my god, fuck!”

“you had it in you all along, kid.”

“it's crazy. it was crazy down there.”

“can't say i'm surprised.”

“you must not have been invited.”

“that's a really interesting question i'm not willing to open up.”

“don't tell me what to do.”

“and it's weird 'cause it's not… it's like an emotional feeling. it's not a logical thing, right?”

“you're the guy from the movie!”

“i have a motorcycle.”

“we should go to a bar or something.”

“let's go get a drink. i wanna see the town!”

“i'm already deciding that i'm making that for you.”

“i mean, we're in a fucking movie together.”

“it's the '80s, baby.”

“i'm fucking pissed.”

“i wanna get out and i wanna solve this crime!”

“oh, are you looking for companionship?”

“oh, she sounds mean.”

“i think you're getting your groove back.”

“i want an appletini.”

“we're doing a drink crawl or something like that.”

“you look awful. you look bad. worst i've ever seen.”

“what, you want me to pretend i'm happy to see you, [name]?”

“watch where you're going!”

“i was just trying to like, prank.”

“someone wants to decapitate you.”

“you're probably the strongest dude i've seen.”

“just really good to be touched.”

“i think you need it.”

i'll go find parking, but i'll meet you at the hotel bar.”

“oh my god, [name], how are you doing? you look great.”

“oh, you've been waiting for that for so long.”

“wait, what?”

[first-edition]

Fox and the Hound

CHAPTER 13

Sum-Joffrey wants to send a message to your family after your brother embarrasses him, so he marries you off to his most unwanted man in his court, the hound. But will this marriage truly be a statement for an eyesore, or will it grow into something more. 

Cw for chapter- Animal death (graphic), mention of vomit, 18+ words and themes overall. Slight angst.

Previous chapter here

Slightly proof read sorry for any errors

Sandor huffs sitting in the corner as far away from the fire as possible.  

“Come on clegane warm up will yah?” thoros says. 

“Fuck off.” he grunts out shifting away. 

“Leave him be thoros.” Beric says sitting next to sandor. 

“I fucked you up well.” Sandor chuckles looking at barrack right side which he nearly split the man in two just moments ago. 

“Aye, but lord of light has granted me movement and health.” Beric speaks, holding up his arms seemingly magically healed. Sandor hums in response. 

“My men tell me you weren't alone when they found you.” Beric says. 

“Found me? Eh..they ambushed me piled on top of me like wrangling a fucking swine." Sandor releases but Beric still waits for his answer. 

“Yes i wasnt alone… had my stupid fuckign squire and-” he stops himself not wanting to say anything more, let alone anything about you. 

“And?” Beric prods as the unfinished answer. 

Sandor sighs rolling his eyes before answering once more. 

“My wife,” he speaks again. 

“The volantis princess?” Beric asks. Sandor nods. 

“I heard of your wedding of what king joffrey had done to her brother he's with the lord of light now-” 

“OH will you shut the fuck up about that lord of light bullshit!” Sandor stands up about to walk out when four men run into the cave. 

“My lord we've spotted a Lannister raiding party.” 

“How many?” Beric asks. 

“No more than 15.” the man replies. 

“Where are they headed and how far?” 

“Headed east across the essos most likely making a stop at lys, and just two miles off here twords hellholt.” the man answers Beric. 

“I need a horse.” Sandor grabs Beric , pulling him to him. 

“You're joining us?” he asked. 

“Once he hit lys im taking a ship straight to volantis i dont give a rats ass about your religious cunts. I'll follow you until then. Understand.” Sandor says Beric nod knowing he wants to get back to you more than anything. Dispute his effort to try and hide it he knows that his squire and you arnt the only thing he wants to get back too there has to be something else. And something, someone, else there is. 

“We leave at dawn. Your horse will be tethered outside.” Beric assures. Sandor lets go of him and nods. 

—-----

Dawn hits as you and joss ride on the horse you've both spent the night at an inn in hellholt the last night and the journey through the mountains before the vaith is something you've both need to get over with before taking on the rest of the nearing towns. 

“When we get there we’ll sell the horse for extra coin my lady.” joss says. You nod mindlessly. 

“S-stop..” you say he stops the horse and gets off a slight bit of struggle before landing on the ground and hurrying to the side only to cough up your breakfast.

“My lady!” joss says worriedly you hold up a hand to him.

“N-no..im fine.” you say holding your stomach hoping the nausea wave will pass before continuing on through the bumpy terrain on horseback. You cough standing up straight before going back to the horse which you've now realized you can not get back up onto so you take the reins and lead it to a fairly high rock and climb onto the rock before hoisting yourself onto the horse. 

“Are you alright my lady?” joss asks. 

“Yes i'm perfectly fine, probably not in the condition for heavy travel but considering the circumstances it will have to do.” you say before leading the horse to go on.

“Do you really believe in the lord clegane?” joss asks. 

“About?” you answer. 

“That…h-he will find us. I know what I said before but I just..” he trails off. 

“Don't talk like that…we have to focus on getting to volantis and then if not we will send a raven.” you say now being the one to lift spirits. He nods. 

“My apologies.” he says. You take a breath in filling your lungs with air before letting it out watching ahead. 

“How are your injuries?” you ask him. 

“I'm alright. just bruised.” he says you nod to him continuing on. You look, seeing a sign. ‘Town of vaith 2 miles’ 

“Almost there.” you say to joss. Just as you do the horse takes a miss step sending you and joss falling off. 

You both hit the ground, the wind getting knocked out of you as you keel over coughing trying to catch your breath. The squeal of the horse blaring out. 

“M-my lady!!” joss runs to you. You hold your stomach, catching your breath. 

“I-i'm okay. I'm okay.” you say getting up.

“No..no no.” you hurry to the horse as it lays on the ground, its leg clearly broken. You need the horse to get to sunspear, pass vaith, and walking across miles and miles of pure land can't be conquered by you. 

“Its leg.” you say to joss kneeling in front of the horse trying to keep it calm in its pained state. 

“M-my lady we-....we have to put it out of its misery we cannot leave it here.” he says. You nod, feeling bad for the creature. 

“H-help me get our things off.” you say getting up pulling off the bags of your money and a few clothes. Joss places them down on the side away from the beast. 

“Can you do it?” you ask him, looking at the suffering horse. He slowly nods unsure yet sure enough to do so. 

“I-i've seen some of the knights put down their horses…they c-cut the throat…there.” he points. Pulling out the dagger sandor left in the bag. Your heart clenches at having to hurt a living animal. Put the pain it's in to overcome any other fear or worry you have. 

“Okay…” joss whispers to himself, walking over to the horse and kneeling down in front of it. 

“You should look away my lady.” he says to you. You nod and turn your head waiting for the horse's ragged breath to stop. A few seconds go by but nothing, you can still hear the horse whining in pain. You look back at joss who holds the knife above his head looking into the horse's eyes. 

***

‘How do you kill so easily?’ you ask Sandor as you rest your head on his chest. 

‘It's not something I like to do…but when youre life in against another's will, your will to live may be stronger. Just don't look them in the eyes, seeing a soul leave a host will never not be a hard one.’ he says to you his voice vibrates through your ears. 

‘Mm’ you answer. 

‘Don't tell me you're planning on killing anyone anytime soon, little fox?’ he asks. You shake your head nod with a giggle. 

‘I could never.’ you say.

***

“Joss.” you say looking at him he looks up at you tears streaming down his face. He is a boy after all. 

You hold out your hand as he stands up. 

“M-my lady…” he says. You take the dagger out of his hand before kneeling down and quickly as if you'd done it before cutting the horse's throat and immediately it stops. It stops breathing, it stops moving, it stops all together. A splatter of blood hits your cheek as you look ahead at the mossy rocks in front of you. You look down to get up only to catch a glimpse of the light in the horse's eye dull out. 

You let out a shaky breath fully standing. 

“H-how far is sunspear?” you ask joss. 

“Too far to walk on foot my lady. But.. salt shore is 2 miles from vaith to the right.” he says. 

“And they have a shipping dock there, yes?” you ask. 

“Yes my lady.” he nods. You wipe off your cheek with your sleeve and pick up a bag. 

“We’ll head to vaith see if we can find another horse and if not…we walk to the salt shore.” you say. 

“Yes my lady.” joss nods as he picks up the other bag, slugging it over his shoulder. You both begin the trek down the mountain to the town of vaith.

Next chapter here

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[grandlinedreams]

I don’t know if you’ve done something like this before..but could maybe write about a time where reader took care of zoro and then one where he took care of you??

Thank you!!!

Absolutely I can do that for you!! Idk abt anyone else but the softness of taking care of someone when they're sick/hurt,,oof

[Heads up!: fluff, tiny bit of angst, Zoro being Zoro, mention of injuries, mention of being sick]

"Hold still."

Zoro tries to do as you ask, though the tickle of thread pulled through his skin makes him twitch, and he grunts when you swat at his upper arm. "What was that for?"

"I said hold still!"

"I'm trying, damn it!" Zoro huffs, brow furrowed as he does his best not to move any further. "Don't understand why you're the one doin' this anyways."

"Because Chopper is busy taking care of Luffy and Sanji," you explain, holding the black thread taut and snipping it. "And you were already injured, but you popped your stitches." You pause. "Would you rather I let you bleed to death?"

"Guess not."

You pause, raising an eyebrow. "You guess? That's not much of an answer, Zoro." Your expression softens. "Try not to get torn up too many times, okay? I worry about you."

"Don't have to," Zoro grumbles, then studies your handiwork of neat stitches rather the bleeding, ragged mess it'd been when he popped them. "Thanks, I guess."

"No problem." He listens to the click of the first aid kit, the shadow that falls over him as you stand. "Guess I owe you one."

"Not at all." You know he'll probably want to take a nap, and you prepare to take your leave before you glance at him. "We're crewmates, Zoro. We look out for each other."

"Yeah, fair point."

You watch as he leans back, mindful of the fold of his arms behind him as he closes his eyes. You wish you could do as he does, though you understand why he has the knack for sleeping anywhere.

Still, you smile. "Sleep well, Zoro."

ㅡ

You're burning up.

It'd been bad luck to get caught in a bout of nasty weather, the sudden switch from bright and sunny to cold and rainy coming with very little warning, even with Nami's skills.

You'd been busy making sure that the Sunny wasn't battered too badly by the swell of waves and fixing things that'd been shifted with the violent rocking to change clothes ㅡ and now you're paying for it.

Though Chopper had diagnosed it as nothing to be too worried about, Zoro still doesn't like the flush to your cheeks and heat that radiates from your forehead, your breathing strained and uneven.

So he takes it upon himself to keep an eye on you. If anyone asks, it's because his normal spots to nap have lost their appeal at the moment ㅡ but if the look Robin gives him is any indication, she at least knows there's more to it.

Zoro is far from a perfect caretaker, but he tries. He soaks a rag in cold water, squeezes it, then settles it on your forehead, hoping to bring your fever down. When it dries out, he repeats the process.

You drift in and out of fevered sleep, and he listens to the little mumbles ㅡ often of your crewmates, including him. He wonders what you're dreaming about that includes him ㅡ and if it's good.

He highly doubts that it's much in part to him, but he's still pleased when you finally wake enough to want food ㅡ and he goes to get it for you before you can protest.

"Don't need you gettin' everyone else sick," he tells you when he returns with a bowl of soup. (He hadn't even threatened to chuck it at Sanji, who'd been surprised at the lack of verbal barb from the swordsman.)

"What about you?"

He scoffs. "I don't get sick."

The look you give him says you're far from believing that, but you turn your attention to the soup instead. Managing to get at least half of it down, you let Zoro finish the rest of it. (Much as he hates that stupid cook, he does make good food.)

"Thank-you for looking after me." Zoro watches as you sink back down into the heavy mess of blankets, likes to think that there's a little more healthy color to your face.

"Yeah, yeah." He looks away. "It's like you said. We're crewmates, we gotta look out for each other." You stare at him, and he huffs. "Right?"

Your expression softens. "Right."

(You get better after another day or two. And when Zoro does actually catch what you had, you're the one who offers to take care of him.)

[bunnywrites1414]

"Why did you invite me if you weren't gonna pay attention to me?"

Kinktober 2nd, 2023: What kind of jerk invites someone over and then sits on a computer game for 2 hours? Suna that's who.

Warnings: Vouyarism, reader shows off over VC.

"Why did you invite me if you weren't going to pay attention to me?" (Y/N) grumbles from her comfy spot on Suna's bed. "I'm gonna pay attention to you, we're on a winning streak, can't stop yet," He says not taking his eyes off of his setup "No not you, fuckin stupid" he yells into his mic, probably at Atsumu. He listens to her sigh, then his bed sheets rustle, and then a heavy thump next to him.

She watches his expression shift from one of concentration to a sneaky smirk. "Not gonna work princess," he says. More shuffling. He sees her walk up to his chair, pretty legs now bare of his sweat pants. She yanks gently on his sleeve and whines "Wanna sit with you" she says. "Just a second Angel" he murmurs. About 2 minutes later the 'Victory' screen appears across the screen and Suna pushes back away from his desk to lets (Y/N) slip into his lap. She straddles his hips and tucks her face into his neck. "Hi, pretty baby" he mumbles rubbing her back under her sweatshirt and running his hands along her bare thighs. She can hear Atsumu and Bokuto fake gag through the headphones and she giggles into his throat. "That was so cute." a voice she doesn't recognize. She plants little kisses down his jaw.

"Princess the camera's on" his voice is gentle. He can hear her eyes roll and the "course it is" she mumbles is enough to make him chuckle into her hair. "Wave to the boys" He murmurs and she turns to wave shyly at his webcam. She watches Kurro, Atusumu, Bokuto, and some other blonde wave back at her. "Who's 'at?" she asks Suna pointing to the unknown face. "His name is Kei, a friend of Bo and Kurro" he answers and Kei's face scrunches "They are NOT my friends, I tolerate them at best," she hears him complain through the headphones. There are complaining whines from Bokuto and Kurro.

"Flip around baby" Suna mumbles against her shoulder sliding away from the desk. She stands and inches herself back onto his lap, folding her legs up under herself. Suna's arms wrap around her waist and his fingers return to the keyboard and mouse. She watches the screen flip from the lobby to the entry skit and the 4 others focus on a different screen. Suna feels her shift back and lean against him. "Sit still Brat" that voice isn't Suna. Her eyes flick back to the screen with his friends and Kurro wears a telling smirk.

"You're not the boss 'a me Rooster boy" she snaps back at him glaring into the camera. Suna's hand cracks against her thigh and she cries out, folding herself in half. "ow Daddy" she whines into the space under his desk. "Behave yourself," his voice is calm and smooth. "Daddy's so mean to you huh sweet girl?" Atsumu purrs through the mic and Suna's signature smirk plasters his face. She slumps back and grumbles to herself arms hugging her waist. "Don't pout honey you did it to yourself" Suna says and her eyes narrow again.

The conversation switches to the game and stays that way for two or three more rounds. Their winning streak persists and (Y/N)'s mood sours. "Pup's gettin' real grumpy there Suna," Bokuto says smirking at the camera. "Told 'er I'd get off as soon as we lose" he returns to his friend and a series of condescending whines drift through the headphones "Poor thing" "He's so mean to you" "Sweet thing" The blush that spreads across her face is visible even on camera. "Boys you spoil her" Suna laughs and she pouts covering her face.

"No..." Kei's voice is almost sweet enough to be genuine "... she needs more attention, she's been squirming since she sat down. Just want Daddy to touch you huh sweets? Gettin' needy sittin' all by yourself?" Suna watches her eyes blow at being caught. "Wow Tsuki you read her almost as well as I do" Suna muses and there's a series of taunts flooding the VC again.

Suna flips the mic on his headset off, "Shift for me princess. Got a few more games in me, but you can get started without me, right baby?" Suna purrs it, he's showing off to his friends, "w-with the camera on?" she asks turning to look at him. "You like the attention, I know you do. I can turn it off if you want" Suna says and the smirk falls from his face, a check-in. "It's alright Daddy," she says and smiles a little. "Atta girl," his smirk returns "get to it." She watches the mute button disappear again and voices flood the headphones again.

(Y/N) shifts and settles herself over Suna's left thigh. The boys through the computer catch her slight movement and all eye shift to her. They watch her hips start to move and her face shifts from concentration to bliss. "is she...?" one of the boys trails off. "She is." Suna confirms as the game continues. (Y/N) starts to whimper and whine against her sleeve, she hears the victory tune start and then feels the eyes shift back to her. "Jesus she's a vision..." (Y/N) is far enough away she can't hear the boys anymore, but she can hear Suna talking back to them. "I know she is, You should hear her, my princess makes the prettiest noises. " she keens and whimpers at the praise. "Daddy, want them off" she whines pulling at the waistband of her panties. "Not yet Princess," his hands pull hers to rest on her back, one hand pinning them together, the other pulling off his headset and slipping it over her ears.

"Give 'em a show baby," Suna purrs against her shoulder sitting back and watching her move. The other end of the call is silent for a minute, (Y/N) lifts her eyes to look at the screen full of Suna's friends, she watches the screen full of lust-blown eyes and expecting smirks. "Go on pretty, you heard Daddy, give us a show" Bokuto's voice is lower than she's ever heard it, his face clear of the golden retriever-esqe man that she knows, and is full of a predatory attitude she's never seen from him. When her hips start to move a loud moan falls from her lips and her head falls forward so she doesn't see the series of shifts from the camera. Suna doesn't miss most of the boys reaching down to adjust their hardening cocks. He also doesn't miss Bokuto not reaching for himself, keeping his eyes on her, his head resting on his hands.

Her whimpers and whines sound like a symphony and Kurro, Kei, and Atsumu are all willing and happy concertgoers. But Bokuto is an art connoisseur, he's not just listening, he's feeling, analyzing every note, and trying to put himself in her shoes. "Gonna talk to her Kotarou? or keep starin'?" Suna's taunting him. Bo's face changes, from concentration to a wolfish grin. "Hear him puppy?" bo growls "he wants me to talk to you. Tell you how hard you make me and how pretty you sound when your feeling good." Bokuto sits back manspreading and bringing his hands to the desk. "I heard Bo" (Y/N) whines back at him before she whines at Suna's hands ghosting over her thighs. "You know how pretty you look? How hard you're makin' me? Makin' all the boys?"

Soft pleads of 'daddy' fall from her lips for about 5 seconds before the second crack to her thigh makes her hips come off his thigh and a screech rip from her throat. "I'm not the one talking to you Princess. It's rude not to answer people when they're talking to you." He growls against her throat. "I'm s-sorry Bo. T-thank you" (Y/N)'s voice is shaky. "You gettin' close pup? gonna cum all over Daddy for me?" Bo can see how far gone she is, subspace coating her face and words. "I-I" her hips stop "Can I?" she looks back at her boyfriend, eyes shining, "You're not cumming for me this time sweetie. Ask Kotarou." he's nicer this time. (Y/N)'s head turns back to Bo and her voice is dripping with honey "Please Bo? I'm so close, it feels so good, my tummy aches Bo please" Kotarou's head tips back, and a loud groan rolls off his tongue. "No not yet pretty, don't want this to be over just yet" Bokuto watches Suna's eyebrows rise in surprise "But B-Bo..." another slap to her thigh "don't whine at him" (Y/N) whimpers and tears brim in her eyes. "Oh baby" Kotarou again, "I know it's hard pretty but I think you can do it" Suna starts moving her hips again, keeping her pressed hard to the muscle of his thighs. The moans she lets out are feral. (Y/N)'s eyes fly to the screen to watch Bokuto. His hands don't move from the desk, his eyes stay steady on her.

For the first time since Kotarou took over, someone else speaks. "Your daddy's a lucky man" Atsumu's voice is rough and you can tell he's already finished from the cigarette poking out of his mouth. "Thank you 'tsumu" her voice is small and it makes Suna's cock jump behind her. "Keep talking 'tsumu, looks like Bo's about done" Kurro teased, but it spurs something in Kotarou. "You still right there Pup? Nice and close for me right?" he asks and leans forward, (Y/N)'s head nods frantically and the moans don't stop. "Beg me for it." her head shoots up and she looks at the camera and she starts, begging and whining for it, hips moving frantically on their own. "That's it puppy, get right on the edge for me"

"Please Kotarou, I can't hold it, please!" her voice is getting whiny and Suna watches when he decides to give it to her. "Give it to me Pup. Make a mess of Daddy's sweats for me" Bokuto doesn't blink when she listens, waves of pleasure forcing her spend out of her, she soaks Suna's thigh and her hips continue to twitch for another 45 seconds.

About 2 minutes after she finishes, another swat to her thigh brings the whole chat back to attention, Suna pulls her up to sit back against him. "What do you say when someone gives you something Princess." His voice is soft, it's a reminder, not a punishment. "Thank you Tarou" (Y/N)'s voice is soft and it makes the whole chat gush. "Now what do you say Kotaro?" Kurro teases again, and just like that Bokuto is back. "You're Welcome puppy."