#shes also half the size lmao

[pistachions]

ive established that i quite like charcoal now :)

[carcarrot]

its important to go see a low stakes concert sometimes

[thefanciestborrower]

do you have prey link hc's i am BEGGING spare vore

YEAH here you go! These are mostly gonna be B0TW and T0TK Link since that's who I talk about most on here, but if you want any other version I'd be happy to do that too. Okay so it might actually take Link a second to warm up to being eaten in a friendly manner if I'm being honest because there are. SO many monsters that would love to make him into a proper meal so in his mind it's a bad thing. At least...until it's very firmly established as something affectionate and kind of silly a few of his friends can do. Then once he warms up to it he's an absolute menace. Cannot ever sit still in someone's insides and I mean he absolutely CAN'T. It's impossible he's just too fidgety and can't keep his hands to himself to save his life. That I feel like is true of every Link, but especially our lovely B0TW/T0TK gremlin boy because look at him. Even his idle animations show him constantly stretching, bouncing, and shaking his little hands, so staying still in a stomach really isn't an option. Unless he falls asleep of course which is, a very big probability. Especially if he's bored. Something I think might be a little funny is how easy it would be to startle him by just, grabbing him up. For a normally rather stoic hero it seems very easy to catch him off guard in the games, and I feel like that would very much apply to any time a friend decided to grab him for a snack, even if they hadn't meant to scare him. He'll make the silliest shocked little face before he realizes what happened and chills out. The biggest culprits of just snatching him would probably be Si.don and Dar.uk because, well look at them they're huge.

For Sid.on it's more of an affectionate Z0ra thing I think. It feels like something they would use to transport very young Z0ra still in their tadpole stage if they had to and a lot of fish use mouth brooding anyways to care for their eggs, so it stands to reason that eating someone might be a fairly understood and acceptable thing. Especially looking at all the stuff that happened with Jabu Ja.bu in previous games. Sooo Sid.on has a tendency to eat Link as a way of catching up with his friend after going a while without seeing him, and honestly Link never really minds it. His insides are soft and make a great bed, and they're warm too, so Link honestly just wishes he was given more of a warning sometimes before getting gulped lmao. Dar.uk tho...he was awful about snatching Link up because he thought it was a bit funny. Gor.on eat pretty much exclusively rocks and minerals, so it's possible they might be completely incapable of processing something like a Hyli.an, especially one that's still alive and kicking. Combine that with how much bigger Dar.uk was than Link and....yeah there was really no reason for him not to eat his tiny friend every once in a while lol. Link was pretty fussy about it because he was NEVER given a warning and always grabbed at an inconvenient time, but he never was genuinely mad about it either. Just playfully annoyed and incredibly wiggly. I feel like Link also gets eaten by various monsters he fights like Hinox, Molduga, and other things like that, but it's waaayyyyyy less friendly or fun for either party

[enterpainment]

「 @universestreasures | Serena」 issued a challenge:  

Serena was a hard worker. Of her siblings, she pushes herself the most often and with the most incredible intensity. Her training were constant, usually taking place late at night following a long day of insufferable lessons or outings with her forced betrothed. By all means she should rest, but she can't afford to if she was to break free of this hell hole. One such evening, she finds herself sparing again with Yuri, who had become a constant in her training due to her father's interference. However, he did serve some use as a sparing partner and a person for her to vent out her frustrations to. If he has to stick around, might as well have a purpose. After once again managing to pin him to a wall, with sweat dripping down her face, Serena suddenly feels her body turn off. Seems like her exhaustion from the long day and hours of training had finally caught up to her, and her body fell unconscious right onto the retainer's suited form. (Nobles To Yuri. Let's see Yuri Disney Fastplay LMFAO)

On most nights Yuri didn't mind this. He quite enjoyed playing this game with her, actually; one where he could watch her face twist in frustration everytime she failed to put him down in a timely manner. He'd often throw her a bone, allowing her some advantage before turning it around on her in some way, shape or form. Mostly in the verbal sense as she was fairly easy to irritate. Unfortunately, to him at least, in their dynamic it was the only power he currently held over her.

Like this, stuck in this...skin suit, he'd call it, she could overpower him in the physical sense. But Yuri had ways to remind her that his word, and by proxy, the word of her father was far stronger than her will to run him through and be done with this obligation of hers.

But it would seem that tonight even Yuri was reaching his limit though, as evident of his movements starting to lack the usual enthusiasm he reserved for these sessions. He almost didn't even try when Serena caught him slacking--

The force of his back hitting the wall so suddenly was more than enough to rattle this frail form of his, much to his annoyance. Compared to his kin though; Yuri was not one to complain needlessly.

❝ ...This has gone on quite long enough, hasn't it? ❞

As much as Yuri would looooooooove to spend all his nights having the girl chase him around with her teeth bared, he was beginning to become irate with it. It was the same song and dance each night now, and it was starting to bore him. And honestly, he'd rather be tending to his propagation operations. The manor was all sorts of dull and stuffy, and it was solely on him to spruce the place up a bit using his talents. At this rate all the plants he had painstakingly nurtured thus far would dry out and die off before Serena would go to bed.

How funny it truly was though, the tables turning as they were.

That's when all the power behind her hold all but vanished, and soon enough the only thing keeping him against the wall now was the weight of Serena's body collapsed against his own.

Oh...

....Huh.

He was starting to think it wasn't going to work-- The thought tickled him in such a way a light chuckle escaped him as he moved an arm under her own to keep her from slipping out from him and onto the floor. Wouldn't want to wake her up now.

❝ That took a lot longer to build up in your system than I thought. ❞

Really, she should know better by now to think he'd play their game fairly.

Once he was sure he had secured his hold on her, he frees his other arm out from under her. He lifts a finger, revealing the perfectly manicured nail had been sharpened to a fine point. A quick glance and it was easy to miss how it had been the only one shaped in such a way, as if on purpose. It was then he brushes the loose strands of her ponytail aside to reveal the nape of her neck before lightly grazing the claw-like nail across her skin-- One of many thin scratches he had managed to tag her with over the course of their fight.

Dripping from the line he drew was a substance far too light in color to be blood... The beautiful pink hue was Yuri's own design, of course. A poison he had developed specifically for Serena and her recent problem.

She surely wouldn't take kindly to the idea of him poisoning her into taking a nap though, so he had kept it subtle by keeping the doses small and building it up over time.

And of course, this was by no means the poison he personally produced. He was still saving that one for the day Serena accepted his loyalty to her. This was just a simple sleep-aid derived from one of the many gardens he had helped to maintain in his time here. He's sure she'll come to appreciate the many things he brings to her table, but in the mean time he'll be sure to appreciate the silence the rest of the night should now bring.

After bestowing the last of his gift to his mistress he'll move to toss her unceremoniously up and over his shoulder. Had he not been her retainer this would make for a quite a scene, but considering his position and Serena's own nature he's sure no one would bother with them as he takes the long way back to her chambers. He had to check on all his precious little sprouts on the way, of course. It helped that the hour was so late though, fortunately for her there shouldn't be any in the halls to witness the scene anyway despite how entertaining it might've been.

❝ Take a nice long rest, princess. Your strikes were really rather weak today, I'll have to report as much to your father, you know? ❞ -

[party-pixie]

THEY'RE HOME🥰

[octoberautumnbox]

Best Job Ever

Kep1er Kang Yeseo & Male named character, Female named character

Categories/warnings: smut, office, public, oral, blowjob, hair pulling, facefucking, needy

Word count: 1.6k

a/n: rushed and bfh and quickie sorry its kinda bad lmao ill do better next time also thanks to @hoaqinrw for beta read :DDDD and yes kep1er once again on cooldown

Yeseo almost fights for her spot in the 6:54 a.m. elevator, nearly pushing away some other office chimp just to get to her floor as quickly as possible. Her smile never leaves her face as she rides up the stories, and it couldn't be a moment too soon before her first task of the day arrives. 

“Ding!” goes her phone's tracker app, and she opens it to reveal a name and desk number. Her smile grows wider as she reads the contents of her screen as she thinks to herself, “This is gonna be a great day.”

The elevator doors slide open and a cool blast of air conditioning meets her face. Yeseo looks around and sees all her colleagues hard at work, and brimming with pride she thinks about how much help she offers to everyone with the work she does. Excitedly, she hurries over to plop her things down onto her desk before going off to her first assignment.

“Good morning, Mr. Lee,” she greets as she bows respectfully to her senior. He waves back, evidently in a phone call that Yeseo couldn't have seen, and he motions for her to get straight to work. 

With a cheery smile, she kneels in front of Mr. Lee and unzips his pants for him. She eyes his cock with hunger, licking her lips at the imminent deliciousness to enter her mouth, and plants a wet kiss on his tip. 

Her senior watches her start her first job of the day while still on the phone. He places his hand on her head and pats, urging her to hurry up. She gets the message and collects a small amount of saliva on her tongue before dragging it up his length. The young girl notices him grip his phone ever so slightly tighter, and she knows she's doing a good job.

“Poor Mr. Lee,” she thinks, “so early in the morning and already so stressed. I have to help him out.” After she sufficiently coats his yummy cock with her spit, she takes him up to half of his length and sucks hard. Luckily his phone call ends at that moment, and he groans just as he puts it down. He pats her hair, telling her he likes it, and she smiles cutely at the feedback, her eyes twinkling with contentment.

Yeseo's courage to take more of his cock grows to almost match the actual size of what she has to take in her mouth. Mr. Lee is one of Yeseo's most favorite seniors to serve, and she promised herself to be able to take all of him one day. With her newfound surge of confidence, she plunges herself into his crotch, feeling his tip slip past the center of her tongue, and it hits the back of her throat. She gags deliciously, and Mr. Lee feels it on his cock, causing it to twitch. With another groan, he places both hands on her head to keep her in place, and the feeling of his dick stuck in her throat and messing with her breathing does something to her: Yeseo starts feeling moisture in her own crotch too. 

The young girl gags again, desperately this time, and her patron relents. He lets go of Yeseo's head and she pulls back immediately, but not so carelessly as to let him feel any of her teeth. Lines of spit connect her lips to his cock, and yet a happily teary-eyed Yeseo allows herself no downtime. She wraps her smooth and delicate fingers around his throbbing cock, giving long and slow strokes, not to make him cum just yet, but to keep him occupied while she collects herself. If his load is going anywhere, it'll be on her tongue and down her throat, and Mr. Lee expects no less of her. 

Yeseo regains control of her breath once more, and she dives back in. She takes him all the way again, and this time she only gags the right way. Mr. Lee once again holds her head in place, and Yeseo, ever the hard worker, takes the opportunity to lick wherever her short tongue could reach on his shaft. 

The way Mr. Lee grips handfuls of her hair tells her that he loves it, and Yeseo prepares herself for what's to come. She knows her patron well, and she's happy to be doing such good work. She readies her throat, and despite the tears welling in her eyes, she shoots a seductive wink at him, telling him she's all set.

And he complies: his grip tightens and Yeseo savors the feeling of him yanking her hair as rough as he can. With no additional warning than him pulling back slightly, he pushes back into the young girl's throat once more. Yeseo holds absolutely no control anymore whatsoever, and she's reminded that it's exactly how Mr. Lee likes it. To him, she is nothing more than a warm and wet hole for him to use, and she wouldn't have it any other way. 

He gets into a rhythm, and soon his thrusts into her throat have Yeseo gagging again. Lewd sounds continuously escape her, a steady and deep gluck-gluck-gluck emanates from the young girl's mouth in between moans of pleasure. This is her second-most favorite part about servicing Mr. Lee: the way he fucks her cute little face gets her going like no one else, and when he's free and Yeseo has no immediate tasks, he's so very kind to return the favor. Deep down inside, Yeseo feels selfish for wanting it, wanting him; he must be busy.

She settles and contents herself with getting her face fucked by her favorite patron, never mind the growing wet spot between her legs, “why the fuck is Mr. Lee so hot?” “Snap out of it, Yeseo! You have a job to do!

And yet, she can’t control herself: her fingers reach into her wet panties and she plays with the lips of her pussy. Between the rough facefucking she’s getting and the pleasure she gets from her own fingers, Yeseo steels her will to hold off from cumming just yet. 

Despite this, though, she can’t deny that with everything she’s going through right now, her fingering her swollen clit, her senior fucking her throat-pussy the way she likes, her vision blurring with tears, her mind getting fuzzy from lack of air…

Yeseo almost doesn’t hear Mr. Lee groan loudly, one last time. Thankfully she does, and she relaxes her throat even more for him. He pulls her head in and shoves his cock as deep as it can go, and he lets everything out: all at once, his hot and delicious cum floods Yeseo’s throat, the warmth slithering down her throat. Her eyes cross as she starts to sputter, and the sheer amount of cum she’s receiving renders her useless, mindless. It starts spilling out of her mouth, “Such a shame, what a waste of his yummy sperm,” until it starts spilling out of her nose too. The young girl is almost completely limp with bliss, never mind her own orgasm, she’d be lucky to survive the next two minutes without air while she takes the load of her life, “When will it end?” “I hope not soon…”

And she snaps awake again at his command; Mr. Lee yanks her off his cock by the hair, and he takes a moment to admire his handiwork: Yeseo’s face is properly fucked, her makeup ruined, and his baby batter decorating her features like it’s the best thing she’s ever had. In some ways, it is, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Yeseo’s heartbeat picks up again when Mr. Lee’s hand touches her cheek. She knows exactly what this is: it’s her turn. He leads her to meet his gaze, and without breaking eye contact at all, he lifts her onto his desk, legs wide apart, pussy covered by the thinnest, wettest, most ruined-looking pair of cute floral panties anyone has ever seen. She relishes in his gaze, and she loves the way his mouth waters while ogling her needy crotch. Yeseo wishes he would “just take me already. Just fuck me. Please–”

“Ding!” goes her phone’s tracker app, and she reaches to pick it up. A swipe and a couple seconds of reading later, and she meets her patron’s eyes once again. The look on his face tells Yeseo only one thing: he’s disappointed that she has to leave him. 

“I’m very sorry, Mr. Lee,” she mutters with regret, getting off his desk, “Miss Kwon is calling. Please feel free to call me again when your timer resets.” 

He helps her down, the gentleman he is, and holds her steady while she wobbles. Yeseo faces him properly, and she bows a deep bow of respect to her senior. “Thank you very much.”

~~~

Yeseo emerges from the restroom after cleaning herself up and making sure her mouth is perfect once more. She thinks back to the remarks section of her second task of the day: “Miss Kwon is ovulating today. Please exercise proper oral hygiene to avoid any accidents.” 

She makes her way to her office, “We can be as loud as we want in here,” and knocks respectfully. She fixes herself once more, and the door opens to reveal a woman not much taller than she is, but older, wiser, and needier than she can imagine. 

“Come in, Miss Kang. I’m afraid you’ve got your work cut out for you this time.” She leads the young girl under her desk, and Yeseo looks up with the most adorable eyes.

“Please don’t hold back, Ma’am. Have me any way you like.” 

~~~

a/n: like i said bfh and also quickie and rushed lmao sorry

[rainylana]

“I don’t like dresses, Eddie.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: some sweet fluff at the trailer with eddie. reader is six months pregnant, so much fluff it may actually kill you, so sweet and precious, smut, vaginal fingering, decrophylia, mentions of max’s death and the battle with vecna, eddie’s self doubt of being a good provider, maybe some language, eddie and reader purposely call their baby by different genders it’s not an error lmao. enjoy!! requests always open just have a lot of works in progress i’m trying to get out there!! also! please let me know if the “read more” tag is working!!

My feet are huge, Eddie.” You said matter of factly, staring at your bare, swollen feet. “I can barely fit into shoes anymore.”

Eddie chuckled, stirring the instant ramen as he put it back in the microwave. “I’ll buy you a size up.”

“But they’re so…so big! I’m so big!” You exclaim, hugging your pregnant belly. “I’m so fat!”

“Y/n,” Eddie said, giving you a pointed look. “What I tell you about that? Stop being so negative about the way you look. It’s not good for you. You’re hot.”

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, fiddling with your fingers. “You have to admit it though.” You argued. “My feet are huge.”

He rolled his eyes, sticking out his socked foot dramatically. “Well, what about mine! They’re twice the size of yours!”

You giggle, covering your mouth with your hand. “I guess so. You’ve got man feet.”

He scoffed. “I am a man, baby.” The thirty second timer of his soup went off, but he paid no mind, making his way over to you. He got on his knees in front of you, grabbing your foot and kissing your freshly painted, hot pink, big toe. “I love you and your big feet, baby.”

You smiled, your heart fluttering at the sweet gesture.

“And,” He pointed at your belly. “I love this baby, too.” He kissed your six month pregnant stomach, patting it lightly. “Hi, baby Munson! Can you hear me? It’s daddy! Daddy’s here!”

You watched him caress your belly, tapping it, humming a new song he was working on, telling it about his work day. You could watch it all day long. You couldn’t wait to meet your baby. You and Eddie had decided to wait to see what the gender was, but it was getting to be harder than what you anticipated.

“God, I’m so excited.” Eddie sighed happily, resting his cheek on your thigh. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

Him. Eddie was sure it was a boy.

You? You didn’t care which, as long as she was happy and healthy.

“I know.” You said quietly, your hand over his that laid above your navel. “Only three more months.”

He practically squealed, gathering himself off the ground to sit beside you. He grabbed you by the shoulders softly, turning you around so your back was to him. You sighed happily when he began massaging your shoulders, his thumbs working circles into your sore muscles.

“Oh, god.” You moaned, eyes closed in relief.

“Careful, darlin’.” He smirked, leaning into your ear. “Last time you said that you got pregnant.”

You hadn’t meant to get knocked up. That was the last thing you both had wanted, at the time, anyways. Now, it was the only thing you wanted more than anything in the entire universe. The two year mark of vecna was approaching, and after two years of the trauma you both endured, healed injuries and broken souls, the loss of your dear friend, Max, you both could finally say that you were traveling down hill now. You missed Max. You knew she’d be so happy to hear about the both of you becoming parents.

You remembered the day you had taken the pregnancy test. All 14 of them. You’d blown half of your paycheck on them, needing to be sure. You’d cried on the bathroom floor where he had found you that evening. You didn’t need to say anything, yet you did, watching as he stared at the positive pregnancy tests on the counter. “I’m pregnant.” You had spoken over a tearful whisper.

It was one of his most shameful moments, but Eddie had left you that night on your own, not able to process the idea of becoming a father. Wayne had smacked him upside the head when he showed up to his trailer, confessing the news. “Boy, get your ass outta my house and back you yer’ girl.” His uncle had said.

“Feel good, baby?” Eddie said, kissing your clothed shoulder as he rubbed up and down your spine, going back up to the base of your neck.

“Mmm.” You hummed in response. “Me and baby are happy.”

He smirked, eyes starting to droop with tiredness from his long work day. “I hope so.”

You opened your eyes then, noticing the self doubt in his voice that you came to recognize early on in your relationship. Next month will be four years. You craned your neck to try and see him. “I am, Eddie.” You lifted your hand up to grab his, resting them against your shoulder. “So will the baby.”

He squeezed your fingers. “I should get you a better house. We need a safer neighborhood for him.”

“We’ll protect her.” You didn’t let go of his hand, spinning yourself against the leather cushion to face him. “And I love this house. It’s our home.”

“I could buy you pretty dresses.” He frowned, pulling at the string of your pajama pants.

“I don’t like dresses, Eddie.” You laughed, gathering his face in your hands and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “God, you’re so cute. You’re so good to me.”

His cheeks flushed red under your touch, placing his hand on your fuzzy pj’s. “You’re good to me, baby. My two babies. I love you both so much.” The heat of the precious moment took him over and he found his lips on yours in seconds. Hot, plump and pink and all over each other’s, his thick palm coming up to hold your cheek.

He kissed you like you were the only woman left in the world, a hunger behind each swipe of his tongue that begged to be fed. You opened your mouth and accepted, teeth scrapping teeth in a make out session that was just plain dirty. He was always so paranoid about having sex at first, wondering if it would hurt the baby. You were too, until your doctor assured you there was no danger at risk.

“Let me feel you, baby.” He said hotly against your wet mouth, hand traveling down your cheek to your shoulder, down your arm and to your hip. “Let me make my girl feel good.”

You whined when his hand cupped your mound with a full palm, breaking apart the kiss in surprise. He rubbed you over your pajama’s, your body leaning into him, rocking against his hand to gain some more friction that just wasn’t doing the job.

You grabbed his hand, pulling down your pants to your knees, placing him back down to your bare pussy. You found his mouth again, his fingers running up your slick with a full swipe, collecting your wetness that made his hand sticky.

“You want me to touch you, honey?” He gently gathered you close, leaning you back to you could lay on the leather sofa. “Tell me what you want, pretty baby.”

The teasing made you hot and lightheaded, the throbbing between your legs created a burning sensation that ached to be cooled. “Please, Eddie,” You arched into his hand. “Touch me. Fuck me with your fingers.”

He practically groaned, the strain in his boxers rubbing against your thigh. He leaned down and placed a full, deep kiss on your lips, entering two fingers into your cunt. He plunged them deep inside, curling them in one go, before pulling out and repeating the movement.

The sudden sensation had you crying out, back arched and mouth ajar. Eddie hovered over your stomach, one hand inside you, the other holding himself up so he didn’t put pressure on your belly. He lifted his chin at you, eyes dark and sparking with a mischievous glare. “Yeah?”

You sobbed, writhing underneath as he finger fucked your pussy, a third ring finger now plunging in and out of you. The sound of your squelching arousal filled his ears, his pre cum darkening a patch of his jeans. It wasn’t the first time he’d cum in his pants just from fingering you.

“Oh, God,” Your legs were split apart, cunt on full display for him. He looked down, watching as his fingers disappeared in and out of you. Your face was best red, sweat fell down your cheeks and tears fell down your sticky skin.

“I’m so close, Eddie.” You shook underneath him.

“Mhmm.” He nodded, his thumb lazily swiping at your clit, not enough to make the coil in your belly snap. “You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? You want me to make you cum all over my fingers?”

“Yes, yes!” You reeled your head back and pleaded to him, to god.

Eddie leaned down, spit on your puffy, red and swollen clit, and wrapped his plump lips around your sexual nerve, puckering and sucking like his life depending on it. It wasn’t long then, and you were squeezing his fingers and shaking, convulsing underneath him.

He fingered you through your orgasm, admiring your beauty as laid there and cried.

[springlockscars]

clueless (stepfather!w. afton/fem!reader)

pairing: stepfather!william afton | steve raglan/fem!reader content tags: daddy kink, size kink, age gap, praise kink, multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, hand jobs, blow jobs, grinding, first kiss/making out, inexperienced, come swallowing, vaginal fingering. summary: your stepfather is finding it harder and harder to resist you, while you remain entirely oblivious. PREFACE: the reader in this fic is 18+ in age. while phrasing like "little", "baby girl" and "daddy" are used, this terminology is not indicative of the age of the reader. the reader is 18+. minors do not interact. word count: 6,411 tags: @dilfkiss read on AO3

18+ content below cut. minors do not interact.

note: I took "dumb!stepdaughter reader" to mean oblivious as to how horny she makes stepfather!william, I hope thats ok! also I know you only asked for a oneshot but I got so carried away lmao. enjoy! ♡

William was so engrossed in his work that he didn’t even hear your knocks on the basement door. You cracked the door open slightly when he didn’t respond to see him hunched over his workstation. Flashes of light routinely flickering in front of his eyes as he solders metal to metal.

You sneak through the entrance and tiptoe down the stairs, stopping right behind him. You wait for him to put the soldering iron down before hugging him from behind, pressing yourself against his warm, broad back. William startled, too distracted to even realise you were there.

“Honey!” he exclaimed, “what’re you doing? Be careful, you could’ve gotten hurt,” he turns around pulling off his visor to look at you, but his eyes lock in place when he sees you. Your legs, bare to the upper thigh, hips covered by the thin fabric of your pyjama shorts, top half covered by an oversized sweatshirt he recognised as one of his own. He swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry,” you removed your arms from him, “I just wanted to come see you, see what you were working on.”

He couldn’t resist your pouting face, “c’mere, let me show you,” William patted his lap, encouraging you to take a seat. You settle down and turn to face the worktop which was covered with bits and pieces, metal and wire.

His hands rest naturally on your hips, feeling just how thin the fabric of your shorts really was. William had to stifle a groan when you wiggled in his lap to get comfortable. He immediately felt his blood rushing south, his length twitching under your backside. Taking a deep breath, he rested his chin on your shoulder and stroked the bare expanse of your thigh. There was something about seeing you in his clothes made his dick twitch in his trousers.

“What is it?” you asked curiously.

He cleared his throat, “it’s an elbow joint that belongs to one of the animatronics. Some parts needed replacing, and it needed oiling. The movement was too… stiff,” he was thinking about what else was stiff.

“That’s so cool, it’s so clever how you make these things,” your voice was full of wonder, like a kid on Christmas. You picked up the cold metal in your hands and shifted on William’s lap trying once again to get comfortable.

“Thank you honey, that m-means a lot,” his breath caught in his throat as you wiggled again.

Something was definitely poking you, and William knew exactly what it was. You, however, were none the wiser, entirely distracted by playing with the elbow joint in front of you.

William rested his forehead against your shoulder, relishing in the feeling of you pressed against him like this. He thanked whatever god may be out there for the good fortune of your mother working out town for the week, he knew he’d be in big trouble if she were to barge in right now. He’d be in big trouble if she ever found out about the thoughts he had about you, his stepdaughter.

He knows he shouldn’t feel these feelings or think thoughts like these, but how is he supposed to resist with the way you’re grinding your ass into his erection right now. And to top it all off, you had no idea just what you were doing to him. Completely clueless.

“Are you tired?” you ask over your shoulder.

So naïve, “a little, yeah. How about we go back upstairs, hm? Relax and watch a movie maybe?”

“Sure!” you hop off his lap, the cold night air filling the space you occupied. He once again felt his dick twitch and strain against the fabric of his pants.

“You head on up and pick something out for us to watch. I’ll be right there; I just need to do one more thing.”

“Okay!” you shouted cheerfully. William turned to watch you go, your shorts riding up your legs as you ascend the stairs, revealing the curve of your ass cheeks at the very top of your thighs.

You close the door behind you, turning the basement dim again. William leaned his head back against his chair and groaned, deep and desperate. He hastily shoved his slacks down his legs and freed his now rock-solid cock from the confines of his underwear, wasting no time in pumping the appendage with a rough hand.

His lips parted, hot breaths escaping his lips, William imagined you on his lap once more. How you’d grind against him, no clothes, skin to skin. He imagined your moans, soft and pathetic, just for him. He imagined caressing your breasts, rolling the nipples to hard points, how you’d toss your head back as you rode him and screamed his name. He imagined his hand was your pussy, hot and wet, gripping and squeezing him until he came. How tight would you be? How deep could his length reach inside you?

It was bad, his own innocent stepdaughter. But it was the innocence that really turned him on. William wondered how much experience you had. He imagined being your first, the first cock to split you in two, the first one to hear you come.

Sensing the apex of his climax, William bit his lip and thrusted wildly into his hand, “that’s it baby, that’s it, you’re gonna… ungh, make daddy come.” He dug his nails into the leather arm rest as his hips stuttered, breathing ragged, until he finally comes hard all over himself.

His moans are high pitched and broken, head slumped back against the chair with the adrenaline of his orgasm dissipating through his body.

William now has an answer to a decision he didn’t even realise he had to make.

He was going to fuck you.

-

William finally gathered the strength to clean himself up with the tissues on his desk and compose himself enough to meet you in the living room. When he enters however, he has to grip the wood of the door frame to keep himself from collapsing right there on the floor.

“Honey… what are you doing?”

“Trying to fix the DVD player, the cable came out,” on your hands and knees underneath the TV stand, ass in the air. William could see the mound of your pussy through your- he shook his head, as though he could physically shake the dirty thoughts from his mind.

“D-do you need a hand?” he manages to choke out.

“No, I almost got it,” you spread your legs wider to bend down further, looking for the perfect angle that would allow the cable to slide into the slot, “I don’t think I need a degree in robotics and engineering to fix the TV,” you teased.

William takes a seat on the couch right behind you. From this angle, he can see right up underneath the sweatshirt you were wearing, his sweatshirt, seeing the faint outline of your breasts. There was no way you didn’t know what you were doing to him. There was no way someone could be this oblivious.

William began daydreaming again. Oh, what it would feel like to take her by the hips at this angle, slowly pressing into her tight-

“Got it!” you exclaimed, leaning back on your knees to check the TV.

Snapping back to reality, William snatched a pillow from the couch and placed it on his lap before you could turn around. Despite bringing himself to a climax a mere few minutes ago downstairs, he could feel himself hardening again already.

“Okay! This is one I’ve wanted to watch for a while now, but I’ve been too scared to watch it on my own,” you sit down on the sofa right next to him, leaning comfortably into his side.

-

The movie opens with a blonde woman making popcorn on the stove, before getting harassed on the phone by a mystery man and ultimately murdered in her own yard.

“Oh my god!” you flinch away from the gore to bury yourself into your stepdad’s side.

William chuckles, “don’t worry baby I’m here,” he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer and leaning his cheek comfortingly against the top of your head.

In your panic, you had wrapped your arm around his midsection. William felt his dick respond to the proximity of your hand. He tried desperately to steady his breathing while stroking your back.

William thought for a moment that the horror movie would be able to distract him from the way you were pressed against him, until the teenage couple on the screen began making out and groping each other in bed.

Feeling emboldened, he decided to tease you a little, “now, don’t you be getting any ideas young lady. I don’t want to open your bedroom door one day and find you tangled up with a boy like that.”

You whipped your head up to look at him, arm still draped over his waist, “no way! I don’t even like any boys like that. They’re all weird anyways.”

“Weird how?” William probed.

“Like…” you thought for a second, “they’re all so dumb and immature. I want to find someone like how mom found you.”

Someone like him… Twitch. “That’s sweet, honey.”

“I wouldn’t even know what to do anyways,” you turned back around and laid your head in William’s lap against the pillow.

His brows furrowed, “what do you mean?” he rested his hand on your waist, stroking light circles into the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, “like kissing and stuff. I’ve never done it… I would probably be really bad at it.”

William was dumbstruck, you really were completely innocent just like he thought. “So,” he started tentatively, “you’ve never kissed anyone?”

You shook your head in his lap, his breath hitching as you pressed the cushion further into his building erection. You didn’t notice.

“And you’ve never… gone further than that? Nobody has touched you?” he was pushing it now; you were bound to catch on.

You shook your head ‘no’ again, “I’m scared it’ll hurt…” You were silent for a moment, before sitting up suddenly turning on your knees and facing him, the movie long forgotten at this point. “Does it hurt? Is it supposed to?” Your eyes wide with curiosity, just like they were down in the basement.

“I- um,” William cleared his throat, painfully aware his hand was still at your waist, “no. No, it’s not supposed to hurt. If your partner is mature enough, and, you know, pays attention to you and what you need, it should feel like the best thing in the world. For the both of you.”

You nodded, deep in thought.

“Have you really never kissed anyone before?” William asked again, still not quite believing it.

“Never,” you shook your head, “how do you do it?”

William’s breath caught in his throat, “w-what?”

“How do you kiss someone like that,” you were serious.

He closed his eyes and braced himself, now or never, he thought. “I can show you, if you’d like.”

Your eyes widened once again and you nodded rapidly, “please,” you begged, scooting closer.

William brought his large palm to your cheek, caressing the soft skin gently, his other hand still resting at your waist, “close your eyes,” he ordered. You obeyed dutifully.

He glanced down at your plush lips, parted as your breathing quickened in anticipation. William leaned in closer and pulled you towards him to meet him halfway. His own eyes fluttered closed as your lips connected. Softly at first, then the hunger overtook William as he grasped your face in both hands, pulling you even closer towards him as he deepened the kiss. He couldn’t stop now.

He licked at your lips, earning a gasp which he quickly took advantage of. Pressing his tongue desperately against yours, you moaned at this brand-new sensation.

Instinctively needing to be closer to him, you shoved the cushion off his lap and took its place, your knees either side of his thighs. You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, surrendering completely to your stepdad’s mouth.

Teeth and tongues clashing, William bites your bottom lip. This is everything he’s been dreaming about. You melting against him so deliciously. His erection grows harder still, now he’s sure you know exactly what it is because you’re grinding down against it in his lap.

William pulls away from your mouth, chest heaving. He has to push you backwards by your own chest as you try to chase the kiss. “Slow down baby, slow down,” he strokes your face with his thumbs.

“Is kissing always like that?” you pant, still gripping onto his shirt for dear life.

William chuckles, “it should be,” his hands drop to your waist as he buries his face in your neck, placing kisses there too, “I can’t believe you’re this innocent.”

He feels you lean into his touch, “you know, you look so pretty in my sweatshirt, baby girl,” he slides his hands under the fabric to touch your skin.

You’re completely drunk on his touch, mind empty, you don’t know how to respond.

“I’ve thought of touching you like this… for a long time,” he says between kisses.

“Really?” you ask, dumbstruck, “why me?”

William pulls away to look at you in the face, “are you serious?” he searches your eyes, “oh honey, you’re so beautiful. Everything about you drives me insane.” Hands still massaging the skin beneath the sweatshirt, “and seeing you in this, in my shirt and these tiny fucking shorts. Oh my god,” William leans in once again, latching onto your neck and sucking a bruise into the skin.

The stimulation sends jolts through your entire body, traveling down to your core between your legs. You grind on William in an attempt to relieve the pressure. He leans back, kissing along your jawline, “does that feel good?” he asks.

You only whine in response.

“Nuh-uh baby don’t play dumb. Use your words, tell me what you feel.”

“Feels good,” you whimper softly. The sound of your desperate voice making his dick strain harder in his slacks.

“Where does it feel good? Tell me.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, “in-in between my legs.”

William runs his middle finger over your clothed mound, “right here?” he asks teasingly, applying pressure to the area he knows your clit will be, and by the pitch increase in your voice he must’ve guessed right.

“Ah! Y-yes!” you press your hips against his touch harder, chasing the stimulation.

William pulls his hand away but before you even get the chance to protest, his fingers are sliding below the waistband of your pyjama shorts. “Right here?” he asks again, running two fingers down across your clit.

You buck uncontrollably against his hand, almost overstimulated having never been touched there in this way before. Not even giving you time to respond, he slides his fingers lower, finding your entrance completely soaked with your arousal.

“Oh baby, you’re so wet for me already. Just for me,” he buries his head in your neck again, inhaling your scent.

William can’t believe he’s really touching you like this, and he’s the first. Your first. His cock pulsing harder at the very thought.

He rubs your pussy slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you too quickly. There’ll be time for that. He spreads your slick all around and up towards your clit, circling over the little nub tenderly.

“A-ah,” you cry, “daddy!”

William groans deep in his chest, “what did you just call me? Say that again,” he demands.

“D-daddy! It- it feels so good…”

“Yeah? You like your daddy touching you like this?” he can feel heat rising all the way to his ears.

You whined against his fingers and pleaded, “please.”

William pulls his hand free from between your legs. You cry out and grind down in his lap harder, trying to get the stimulation back. You look at him with watery eyes. He holds eye contact with you as he brings his fingers coated with your arousal to his lips, before running his tongue over them and sucking them into his mouth. Your jaw goes slack as he moans around his own digits, then pulls them from his mouth, now clean.

“I’ve dreamed of what you might taste like, but the reality is even sweeter,” William cups the back of your neck and pulls you in for another desperate open-mouthed kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue and begin rocking back and forth against the bulge in his trousers.

He pulls back and leaves quick pecks against your lips, “do you want to try touching me, honey?”

You nod quickly, kissing him back every time his lips meet yours.

“Scoot backwards a little,” William takes one of your hands in his, finally releasing your death-grip on his shirt. He presses your palm against his bulge between your legs, sighing at the pressure, “pull the zip down, that’s it.”

You eagerly pull the zipper down and undo the button at the top, your hands freezing when you don’t know what to do next.

You look back up at William for guidance, his gaze dark with eyes full of lust, “you can touch me, it’s ok,” he reassures.

You caress his bulge lightly through his underwear with your fingertips. It was hot and hard, and it made the heat pool between your legs. Carefully, as though it were a dangerous animal, you pull down his underwear over his hard length, freeing it for the second time today. But not that you knew that.

His cock all but sprung out of his underwear, eliciting a guttural moan from William. Unprompted, you take him in your small hand and begin to slide it up and down.

“O-oh fuck, baby girl,” his head falls backwards against the couch cushions, his hands moving to grip you by the thighs, “just like that, a little harder don’t be shy.”

You followed his instructions, pumping his length in one hand with the other pressed against his chest for support. Pearly white liquid seeped from the hole in the tip, and you had the irresistible urge to lick it like an ice cream. Your eyes travelled up William’s body, settling on the expression of pure pleasure on his face. It made you happy that you were able to make your daddy feel good like this.

William couldn’t think straight. Here you were, his beautiful little stepdaughter, sitting on his lap and pumping his cock. He gazes down at you and his heart thuds in his chest watching you lick your lips.

“Here, move down here,” he slides his hands from your thighs to your waist to help you stand, then kneel on the carpet in front of the couch, William caresses the back of your head from where you are between his legs, “why don’t you give it a kiss, hm?”

You lick your lips again, then eagerly lean in closer, pressing your lips to the inflamed tip. Once, then again.

“A-ah! Oh fuck, b-baby,” William’s voice is desperate, he’s never been so aroused in his life, “keep going, don’t stop.”

His dick is hot against your lips. You dare to lick the pre-come from the tip, earning a tighter grip on the back of your head from William’s hand as you swallow down the salty taste. Eagerly wanting to please him, you become bolder. You lick a thick stripe up almost his entire length from base to tip, William watching through hooded eyes. You do it again, and again, flattening your tongue against the hot flesh.

“Here, baby, put it in your mouth,” he instructed, “wrap your lips around it like that I- oh! That’s it, that’s it!”

You take him into your mouth, sucking on him like an ice lolly on a summer’s day. The sounds he’s making prove to you that you’re doing well. You take the bottom half of his cock, the part your mouth can’t reach, and begin pumping him again.

“Oh my god!” William grips your hair in his fist, guiding your mouth up and down faster and harder, “ungh, just like that, just like that baby you’re doing so well. Taking my cock so well.”

He begins thrusting up into your mouth, penetrating deeper, and deeper into you. With one hand remaining on his length, your other hand grips onto his thigh to steady yourself. With tears building in your eyes, it’s almost too much for you to handle but you don’t want to pull away.

William, fucking into your mouth, has lost all sense of morality. His wife, your mother, could walk through the door right now and he would continue to choke you on his cock until he came. Nothing in the world could stop him at this point.

For the second time today, he feels his climax approaching. Chasing the high, he’s entirely consumed by thoughts of you. He no longer needs to imagine scenarios to beat himself off to, he has the real thing on her knees, devoted to him.

He feels your tongue pressing flat against his length, the increase in blood pressure as you suck him in. The lewd sounds you make as you gag around him and saliva dribbles down your chin.

“So close… I’m so close baby girl. Are you gonna swallow all of daddy’s come, are you gonna take what I give you?”

You hum in response around him, and the vibrations are enough to tip him over the edge. William grips your head firm in his hands, holding it still as he fucks into your mouth two… three, more times, before finally stilling mid thrust, and emptying his load into your mouth and down your throat.

The salty liquid hits your tongue, and you swallow it down instinctively. Licking and sucking the hot appendage, making sure you don’t miss a drop.

William relaxes, arms going slack, and he sinks deeper into the couch cushions. You rise from the floor, crawling back onto his lap to be close to him.

“Was that good, daddy?” you ask, voice quiet and shy.

“Oh baby…” William caresses your back and wipes the saliva from your chin. He then pulls you against his chest into an embrace, “that was incredible, my love. You made daddy feel so good, I’m so proud of you.”

You both lie still for a moment, William coming down from his high, and you listening to the thud of his heartbeat through his chest.

William brushes your hair back, away from your neck, before placing a kiss there, then another, then biting softly, “do you want daddy to thank you, hm?” his breath is hot against your neck.

Once again beginning to squirm in his lap, you nodded your head against his chest. He pushes you up to a seated position, sliding his hands under his shirt to caress the skin of your waist again, “I want you to use your words, baby girl. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to make me feel good too, daddy. I want you to touch me again…”

He pecks you on the lips, then pulls his sweatshirt over your head in one swift motion, revealing your bare chest right in front of his eyes. Wiliam places a kiss to the centre of your chest, right on the breastbone, before moving across to the left, to suck and nibble at the plush flesh of your breast. His right hand sliding up your body to cup the other one on the right side. Your breathing immediately becomes laboured, William sucking a nipple into his mouth, biting and leaving bruises in his wake.

You were soft beneath his fingers. He felt a twinge in his crotch, becoming aroused all over again by the way you moaned and arched your back into him. William kissed his way lower, as low as this position would allow, before scooping you up in his arms and laying you flat on your back on the couch.

Your eyes widened but were filled with desire as he loomed over your small frame beneath him. He resumed his pathway, tongue trailing down over your abdomen, finally reaching the prize between your legs.

William wasted absolutely no time, whipping off your pyjama shorts, leaving you bare save your white panties. He pressed a kiss to the fabric covering your mound, moving lower and pushing your legs further apart. His mouth watered at the smell of your arousal, eyeing the dark spot on your panties where it had soaked through. He licked a stripe up your soaking cunt through the material, just like you had done to his cock earlier.

“Oh! Oh fuck,” your back arched, your walls clenched around nothing, and you gripped the cushions tight in your hands to ground you.

The taste on his tongue sweet and a little bitter. Your panties clung to your skin, the large man between your thighs making them wetter and wetter with every swipe of his tongue.

With one hand, William pinned your hips down into the soft couch cushions, the other one pressing firmly against your pussy through your panties. He circled his fingers around your clit, high pitched moans tumbling from your lips as you try to grind forward seeking some kind of release.

William, deciding he couldn’t wait any longer, hooked his fingers in the waistband of your soiled panties, pulling them down your thighs and all the way off your legs, discarding them on the ground.

He couldn’t believe the sight before his eyes. Your pussy, swollen and glistening with your arousal, right in front of him. Close enough to stick his tongue out and taste you, and that’s what he did. He buried his face in your cunt and ate you out like a man starved.

You cry out, high pitched and needy. You’ve never felt anything like this before, the way the hot muscle of his tongue slides expertly through your folds, the tip circling your clit, moving back down to poke at your entrance.

The heat was pooling between your legs rapidly, jolts of pleasure were coursing through your body, building in intensity. More, and more. You had no idea such an intense pleasure existed.

William tentatively pressed an index finger to your entrance, you felt your walls stretch and flesh burn as he pushed in deeper, and deeper. You twitched and squirmed under his grip, until the digit was pressed inside you all the way to the knuckle. He pumped it in and out, slow at first, then picking up the pace.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?” William’s voice was heavy with arousal.

The muscles in your stomach twitched, “A-ah, s’good,” your voice was hoarse, “feels so good, ‘ve never felt t-this before, ah!”

“Yeah? Do you want daddy to add one more?”

You can only manage a groan in response.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” William pressed kisses to the flesh of your thighs, his beard scratching your skin, before slowly working another thick finger into your cunt. Taking it as a success when you scream his name and press yourself down harder against him.

William thrusts his fingers firm and deep, curling them every now and again to catch your G-spot, you probably didn’t even know what that was, he thought. He brings his lips to your core again, gently flicking his long tongue over your clit, pressing flat against it, circling around, sucking it into his mouth and biting lightly with his teeth.

You twitch and writhe in place, feeling pressure build within you. Your thighs flex by his head, one of his hands gripping the flesh there hard enough to bruise.

“D-daddy,” you cry.

William raises his head, “I know baby girl, let it happen. Just relax and let go for me,” he goes back to sucking harshly on your clit, fingers fucking into you a little harder than before.

The air feels cold against your skin, the pressure builds higher and higher, your legs tense and toes curl. Your muscles tense more and more, and tighter and tighter. William flicks his tongue over your clit one last time, then all of a sudden, your entire body is convulsing. Your thighs flex and spasm at either side of William’s head.

You scream out and shudder under your stepfather’s touch, “shh that’s it baby, that’s it. Come for daddy, that’s it beautiful,” his pulsing fingers slowed as you rode out your first orgasm, hips rolling against his hand.

Just like William earlier, you go limp against the couch. You can feel aftershocks pulse through your body and down your legs. William pulls his fingers out slowly and you watch through exhausted eyes as he sucks them into his mouth and licks them clean, devouring every morsel of your arousal that coated them.

William holds you by the waist and leans over you kissing your neck softly, moving up to your jawline, before finally connecting his lips to yours. The kiss is deep and full of desire.

He pulls away briefly, “you did so well for me, my little bunny,” then kisses you again, “did that feel good?”

You couldn’t speak. Fatigue engulfed every cell in your boy, all you could do was kiss him back lazily.

“Ohh, did I fuck my baby dumb with my fingers, hm?” William strokes his thumbs over your nipples, your body twitches and you whimper beneath him.

Your whole body was still on fire, you ached for him to touch you again. To bring you to the edge over and over, senses filled with only him. Your fingertips brushed the fabric of his dishevelled shirt, pulling him down closer to you.

Not even fully aware of your own actions, your fingers found the buttons of his shirt and began undoing them, one by one. Lust burned within William; you don’t want to stop… you want more. His lips meet yours once more, with an intensity this time.

He pressed that long tongue of his into your mouth, exploring every curve, devouring you ravenously. After releasing the final button, he shrugged out of the crumpled yellow shirt and tossed it on the ground where your clothes lie. Smoothly, without breaking the kiss, William hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and pulls them down along with his trousers. He kicks them off and kneels over you, entirely bare on the couch.

William parts your legs to wrap your thighs around his waist. He shuffles forward, a deep, guttural moan spilling from his mouth into yours as his cock, hardening once more, makes contact with your soaking cunt.

Your hips react instinctively, rolling and grinding your core into his. William rocking his own hips rhythmically, sliding deliciously through your folds. The tip of his member bumps your sensitive clit inciting a whine from you in response.

Both of you are a mess of whimpers and groans, grinding and thrusting furiously against each other. A sweat breaks out on William’s skin. He pulls back away from your mouth to kneel up straight, gazing down at where your bodies connect with blurry eyes.

He takes his solid cock in his hand, feeling the blood pulsate through the skin, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so hard in my life… for anyone,” he presses the tip directly through your folds, gathering your arousal. “Do you see what you do to me, baby girl? Look at how hard daddy is for you.”

You lean up on your elbows and follow his gaze down between your legs. William sliding his cock through your slick is a sight to behold. Feeling his heat pulse and throb against your sensitive skin.

You only now realise just how big he is in comparison to you. Knowing full well how much you struggled to take him into your mouth earlier, you feel a sense of panic begin to rise in your chest.

William notices this, and cups your face in his large palm, “don’t worry, honey. Remember what I said? I’m going to take good care of you.”

He takes your hips in both hands and begins to press directly against your entrance, immediately feeling resistance there.

“Oh… Oh my god,” you collapse down onto your back again. Legs parting wider as though that’ll help to accommodate your stepfather’s girth more.

“Breathe for me, bunny. I need you to relax,” William’s voice is thick with need. The need to pound you with all his strength, until your voice breaks and you spill all over him. But he must be patient.

He slides through your folds again, tip bumping your clit a couple of times and making you spasm beneath him before pressing against your tight hole once more. Pushing further and further. More and more.

The pressure ten times more intense than when he entered you with his thick fingers. Curse words spill from your lips, your hands grip William’s arms where he’s holding you firm by the hips. Your breasts squeezed together and heaving with the intensity of your breaths.

One of his thumbs moves to circle your clit, trying to ease the tension in your body. You whine and writhe and beg, a litany of “please”, and “oh god”. William presses harder still, until the bulbous head of his cock pushes through. Your entrance finally yielding to him.

He continues to strum your clit soothingly and gently, allowing you time to get used to the intrusion.

“Talk to me, how does it feel, baby?”

You pant desperately, “s’good… I-ah!” your hips twitch, “It feels so good daddy, you feel s-so good!”

“Oh, honey… I told you it should feel good. You’re being such a good girl for me; I love hearing your beautiful voice.”

William pulls back slightly, and tentatively pushes into you further, groaning when his length does indeed penetrate you deeper. You’re so tight. Never in his life has William felt a pussy like yours, it’s like you were made just for him. He could probably come inside you right here and now, but he fights with all his strength to supress the urge.

He pulls out a little, then slides in again, and again. Over and over. Around half of his length is inside you now, and you’ve never felt anything like it before.

The burn, the stretch… It should be uncomfortable, but it isn’t. Your back arches and your hips rock. You want more. All you can think of is more. More of him, your daddy. More of his kisses, more of his cock, more pleasure. More, more, more.

Tears spill from the corners of your eyes, the feeling is so intense. William picks up the pace, spurred on by the wails slipping past your lips. With every thrust he dives into you deeper, exploring the uncharted territory of your walls, whimpering himself when he feels your cunt squeeze him even tighter.

With every thrust he reaches deeper into you, until he realises his cock is sheathed entirely inside you, “Ah! Oh baby, my baby girl…”

William pulls out, leaving only the tip still buried inside, then plunges back into you all the way to the hilt.

“Daddy!” you cry, feeling every bump and ridge of his length stretch you out.

That word provokes him further, he’s pumping into you relentlessly focusing on chasing his own building high, that knot getting tighter and tighter in the base of his cock.

“Are you close, baby? Are you gonna come again, all over your daddy’s cock this time?”

“P-please daddy, please,” you cry, “I n-need… I want-”

William takes your thigh in his hand, pressing your leg back towards your chest to achieve a deeper angle inside your cunt, “what do you need my bunny? Tell daddy.”

The stimulation you’re receiving leaves you speechless. You babble obscenely and incoherently, fists gripping onto anything you can reach. William’s arms, the couch cushions, your own breasts to pinch at your nipples.

You are completely drunk on the pleasure your stepdad is providing you. Feeling the burn inside begin to peak again just like when he fucked you with his fingers, “daddy, I’m gonna… Oh! I’m gonna-”

“That’s a good girl, come for daddy. Come for me,” William pants, his thumb rhythmically stroking across your clit, assisting you to the peak of your climax.

Arching your back, feeling your walls begin to clench, the heat intensifies until it’s a burning, white hot fire inside you. You scream as your orgasm wracks through your body, wilder than the last one, your whole body shaking and spasming uncontrollably. Your mind delirious with pure pleasure.

William’s grip on both your thigh and hips turns bruising as you come violently on his cock. Your walls pulsating and gripping him, pushing him over the edge of his own orgasm. He pulls you forcefully down against his hips one final time, before stilling, and emptying his seed deep inside you.

He stays there for a moment, until his dick is no longer twitching, and he collapses down on top of you. Both of you breathless and writhing, riding out the most intense orgasms you’ve ever experienced. William holds you by your waist, his face once more buried in your neck. You both cling to each other, skin sticky with sweat, eyes closed as the rush dissipates.

William strokes your skin soothingly, “you’re such a good girl,” he praises, “such a good girl for your daddy.”

You sigh and curl into his embrace. Perfectly content.

“Now baby,” he leans up to look you in the eyes, “this is very important, okay? You can’t tell your mother what we did tonight. It has to be our little secret or we won’t ever get to do it again, do you understand.”

You nod curtly, “I won’t tell, I promise.”

“Good girl,” William presses a kiss to your lips, pulling back when you turn to yawn. “Do you want to come upstairs to bed with me? You can sleep in daddy’s big bed, but we have to keep that a secret from mom too, okay?”

“I’d love to,” your eyes sparkle.

William kisses you once more, before sitting up again and gently pulling out from inside your hot pussy. Your muscles pulse and you sigh at the loss of contact.

“Are you okay?” he checks.

“Just a little sore,” you confess.

“Oh baby,” he pulls you up to a sitting position and strokes your cheek, “come upstairs with me. I’ll take care of you.”

[jewishbarbies]

to start, please know im asking out of a genuine want to understand both sides-- how are half of the pictures in your leftist nazism post related to nazis? /genq because it just comes off as the usual extreme protesting to me? like we (US) were literally TOPPLING statues over george floyd- how is a tiny palestine flag on a bust nazism? (also out of curiosity bc i couldnt find it looking it up, who is the bust of?) it just. comes off as "anything pro palestine=nazi" with the variance of pics. sorry for the like ten questions in one lmao

the majority of pictures are holocaust related memorials. the bust is a statue of Amy Winehouse who was jewish and the flag is meant to replace the star of david she’s wearing.

an overarching theme is the leftist’s desire to blame and punish jews for their problems, erase jews in favor of the “true indigenous people”, and it comes from a deep hatred of jews. if you’re not violently antisemitic l, why are you trying to erase jews from jewish memorials? there’s a connection between the “hitler was right”/“all jews deserve to be raped and killed” nazi leftist and the acts of violence toward jews perpetrated by leftists. what are leftists protesting in these images? the existence of jews.

everyone seems to forget that there is no nazism without jew hatred. and that jew hatred is the core reason for all of a nazi’s hateful beliefs. why are black people in my country? the jews. why do sexual deviants exist in my country? the jews. why can’t I pay rent? the jews. leftists have been spiraling down this nonsensical hate tornado for a long time. when they do things like deface holocaust memorials in other countries in the name of “free palestine”, but their beliefs are that jews should all be wiped out, punished in some violent way, reduced in size and/or relocated, etc., that is nazism.

they’re using swastikas to ‘protest’ jews. that is nazism.

[creepswrites]

MASK OF HATE (CH 2) | Michael x Reader

so when i was writing this, my editor Insisted i use a grilled cheese gif for this chapter. you'll see why... i hope you enjoy though LMAO

MICHAEL MYERS x FTM!READER (he/him)

SUMMARY: When the door slammed back open with more force this time, you jumped and let out a surprised yelp. Your dad came barreling in, Michael having already disappeared back upstairs as quiet as he'd come. You tried to intercept him from storming upstairs but his horrified expression stilled you. "That was our neighbor Gladys down the street. She said she saw Myers come up to our house about an hour and a half ago."

WARNING: graphic depiction of deaths, animal violence

PREV || NEXT

"Has anyone ever shown you kindness?" Your voice had Michael opening his eyes, blinking as he looked up at you slowly, your hands tangled in his wet, sudsy hair. He was sprawled out on the porcelain bathtub while you washed his hair, the room dim and sleepy and smelling of lavender soap. He had no qualms letting his legs and arms rest upon the rim to have extra room. You’d since become accustomed to him, no longer flushing at his nakedness, so washing the blood off his skin didn’t bother you.

You’d since bought black washcloths and a black towel for Michael so your father wouldn’t get suspicious about any bloodstains. Lounge clothes - some sweatpants and a t-shirt finally in his actual size - sat folded on the counter beside the sink, his navy blue jumpsuit in a pile on the cool, linoleum floor.

For the past few weeks, you two established a routine of sorts. Michael would get hurt or hungry and come visit you. Sometimes he'd watch you sleep but he'd usually be gone by morning. With your dad's presence in the house very touch and go, it was hard for Michael to stay for any extended period of time. Sometimes he watched you from a distance whenever you'd go in the garden but that was the extent of it.

You knew it wasn't normal for him to care about another person so you did your best to make it easy for him. No more lunging at armed police officers for you, you'd lamented to him in a joking manner. You hadn't been able to see his face but you got the impression he'd glared at you.

You'd also taken to touching him more, getting him to reassociate touch with compassion. It wasn't easy to undo years of trauma but you did little things here and there. Brushing his hands with your own, touching his arm when you wanted attention, small things. He was building a tolerance to it, you could tell. Washing his hair now was the most you'd touched him beyond patching him up after run-ins with the police.

But progress was progress.

Today, he hadn't come home bloody but he had come to you for something. He'd shown up at the backdoor, made a beeline for the bathroom, and you'd gotten the message. Bathing him had also become pretty regular, though you still recalled the first few times where it'd ended with him shaking from how overwhelmed he was by your touch.

Now, though, his gaze bore into you, staring up at you like a big lazy cat. Like a lion too content to strike. Your hands had stilled, still poised to scrub at his scalp. He needed a haircut, you noted to yourself.

"Besides me," you clarified as you resumed scrubbing in slow circles. "You don't… You're-" You huffed, trying to find the words. "I feel like people didn't care for you like you needed them to. If that makes sense." 

Were you anyone else, you don't doubt he'd kill you for saying that. Instead, he just glared at you, pretty hazel eyes narrowed to slits. In anger or confusion, you couldn't tell.

That was yet another development. He'd been taking his mask off of his own accord now, even when he didn't have a reason to. The first time he'd done it had been because his hair was too long and sat uncomfortable in the mask, tickling against his ears and neck. You offered to cut it and, while it took some reassurance and thought on his part, you'd come home one day to him sitting on your bed. Scissors in one hand and mask in the other, clutching it like a child would to a security blanket. He hadn't been shaking or looking up at you with fearful eyes but his jaw had been clenched hard as he white knuckled the accursed mask. A wordless question you'd answered with nimble fingers and gentle tugging on his curls.

Having something so sharp close to his vulnerable neck hadn't been his idea of a good time regardless if it was his idea or not. He'd gotten up half a dozen times during the haircut to stand in the corner to come down from what was probably overstimulation. You were patient with him though.

You'd gotten better at reading him. He'd gotten better at leaving you clues.

In the present, he sat up and slid his legs back into the water. Wet hair slipped from between your fingers as he turned to properly stare at you. Michael was interesting to you still. You could tell he was curious about you too. He stared at you often, like when you watered your plants, washed his clothes, or made food in the kitchen. You felt his eyes on you constantly no matter what.

"What?" You asked with a small sigh, staring back at him with the same intensity.

Michael gave you a slow blink, similar to the ones Mayhem gave you as a show of trust. "Don't gimme that," you teased, smirking at him and motioning for him to sit back down. "I just- I always feel bad thinking about it, in retrospect. I mean, you grew up in an asylum alone. Didn't it-"

He interrupted you by sliding a wet hand around your throat, holding you still as though to physically stop your ramblings. Not squeezing, just holding. You got the message there: let it go. He lay back down and you resumed washing his hair, unbothered by that exchange.

Things like that were normal with him. It had freaked you out at first when he'd wrapped his hand harshly around your throat and pinned you in a doorway. But you'd slowly begun to understand him. He didn't have a way to communicate that wasn't through violence or knives.

Or hospital rooms under scrutiny, you reminded yourself with a grimace. You masked it behind a soft tune you hummed, resuming washing his hair.

Once he was cleaned and dressed, jumpsuit in the wash, you ventured back downstairs to make dinner and feed Mayhem. Michael trailed after you, hair dripping dark spots along his shoulders where it was still damp. He didn't like the hair dryer very much and only tolerated you using it to get his hair comfortably damp. No more.

“You’re probably due for another haircut by the way,” you said as you opened the fridge. Mayhem was immediately rubbing up on Michael’s leg, meowing insistently.

He looked down at her, standing comfortably in the doorway to the kitchen. You glanced over your shoulder to look at him and felt struck with the knowledge that, if it weren't for his injured eye breaking the illusion, it almost felt like you just had a boyfriend over. Your face warmed up at the thought and you snapped your head back around to stare into the white, chilled expanse of the fridge. "Umm… anything specific you want tonight?"

When you looked back over at him, you jumped in surprise when he was barely a few inches from you. Jesus, you thought to yourself. You didn't think you'd ever get used to how quiet he moved sometimes.

Michael tilted his head as he stared at the fridge with you. "I need to go shopping soon, huh?"

He didn't say anything but you could almost hear his nod.

You liked how expressive he'd gotten as the two of you began to trust each other. Little things like that made the whole thing feel domestic somehow. 

"Well, hope you like grilled cheese." You snagged the almost-empty package of sliced cheese and dangled it tantalizingly. "I'll go shopping tomorrow, promise. If you want anything in particular, let me know." You said as you grabbed the bread from the cabinet. Before he could say - or, technically, not say - you spun on your heel. "Besides pumpkin pie."

He nodded once and you smirked.

Domestic, your brain said again in an almost mocking tone. You swallowed and tried to focus on the sandwiches and not the way Michael stared at you. You began buttering the bread as the pan warmed up and tried to not envision life being like this forever: painfully domestic and sweet with Haddonfield's best known serial killer in soft lounge clothes you'd bought him, curled up on the couch eating an early lunch together after you'd washed his hair.

The sound of the front door rattling open was out of place and terrifying. Never in your life had you felt as though the ground would swallow you as your heart threatened to pound out of your chest. You spun to face Michael and quickly assessed your options.

There were two doorways that led out of the kitchen - one that faced the living room and another that led into the hallway to the stairs. There was a dividing wall between the two doorways. Meaning if you could get Michael into the hallway, he'd be out of sight for at least the briefest few seconds it took your dad to walk towards you.

"Upstairs, now!" You whisper-yelled, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him towards the hallway. "Stay quiet, he'll go away soon."

Hopefully, you thought to yourself. Hopefully he will.

"You're home early." You called to him as you took your spot at the stove again, spreading butter on bread and placing them in the pan.

Your dad sounded exhausted, shrugging off his outer coat and tossing it atop the back of the couch before slumping in his chair. "I decided to come home early. It's been an exhausting week. But Myers seems to be taking a break from killing these past few days."

You couldn't help but frown. Not killing? Sure you'd noticed less blood on his clothes but surely he'd stopped altogether. So close to Halloween too…

"Cool, I was, uh, making lunch." You called out over the pan sizzling. "You want some?"

The telltale creaks of the wooden floor had your hair standing up on end. It wasn't like normal sneaking around when you had a boyfriend, this was Michael Myers you were hiding. Right under his nose. Even if your dad didn't immediately go for his gun when he saw him, you were still a liar. And an accomplice to his crimes.

"Grilled cheese, huh?" He smiled for the first time since he'd taken on the case. "Want some help? I can-" The sound of his phone ringing cut him off, making him grimace. "I'll take this outside," he sighed as he went back out the door. You sighed with relief and looked towards the doorway to the stairs.

Michael stood there, mask on, gripping a knife tight in his hand. You had no idea where he'd gotten it, since your knives were accounted for.

You tried to seem reassuring. "He's probably going to get called back into work, it's okay." Even though you'd gotten used to it, you still swallowed when you saw the glint of the knife in the dim lighting of the doorway. "He, um, he said you haven't been killing lately?" 

Michael was eerily still. Just staring at you.

"Is everything…okay?" It felt a bit weird asking when he was going to kill someone again. Like it was just a casual hobby of his. "Just let me know, alright?"

He just stared at you. His walls were back up, you could tell, so you tried to not take it personally.

When the door slammed back open with more force this time, you jumped and let out a surprised yelp. Your dad came barreling in, Michael having already disappeared back upstairs as quiet as he'd come. You tried to intercept him from storming upstairs but his horrified expression stilled you. "That was our neighbor Gladys down the street. She said she saw Myers come up to our house about an hour and a half ago." His gun was out, alarming you. "Have you… have you seen anything?"

"No." You swallowed around your lie, quickly turning the stove off, lunch forgotten. "No, it's been quiet. I was out in my garden, mostly."

He didn't seem convinced though. "She said he was circling around the house before coming inside."

At that, he froze. He held a finger to his lips, signaling you to be quiet. You wanted to roll your eyes at how comical this was but you also couldn't afford to break character. Scared young child of the police detective, home alone with a killer in this house. 

"Where's your cat?" He whispered, glancing up at the ceiling as though expecting to hear footsteps.

Glancing around, you tried to play up your alarm. "I don't know!" You whisper-yelled. "Do you think he's-?"

"Dead, then." Your dad's bluntness made you flinch. "Myers usually kills the pets first. Keeps 'em from sounding an alarm." He didn't even try to look sympathetic as he crept towards the stairs. You followed after him as he crept silently from room to room, pushing the door open slightly before scanning the room with his gun out. It made you anxious and you kept periodically glancing towards your bedroom, dreading the impending inspection. First the hall closet, then his bedroom, then the bathrooms, and finally: your bedroom.

You felt sweat drip down your temple as he pushed open the door. Everything felt tense, suffocating you as you chewed anxiously on the nail of your thumb.

He swung open the closet door and fired at the first sign of movement.

Mayhem yowled, a sharp, piercing sound, then darted past your legs as he took off down the hall. "MAYHEM!" You shrieked in horror, watching blood trail behind him faster than you could catch him. You ignored your dad's stammered apologies and took off after your cat.

The blood trail went down the stairs and out through the back door, which had been left cracked open to let Mayhem come and go as he pleased. Now he was gone. Your heart sank as you ran outside, crying for Mayhem to come back. In the tall, mud-riddled forest it was hard to see any kind of blood trail or spot your all black cat. Minutes ticked by with no response and you fell to your knees, wrapping your arms around yourself as you bawled.

He was your little kitty. And now he was gone.

"Sweetheart, I- I'm so sorry. I didn't know he was there." Your dad tried to explain as he watched you from the doorway. "It- It'll come back, I'm sure."

"You SHOT him!" You rounded on him almost instantly, storming up to meet him and relishing in the way he backed up in fear of your anger. "You SHOT him and now he might DIE out there!" While you didn't consider yourself an angry nor violent person, it felt vindicating to shove him and watch him stumble back. "You don't even CARE!"

"No, I don't!" He shouted, trying to scare you back. "It's just a cat! What if Myers had been there, huh?"

You felt hysteric. "I don't care about that! Fuck, dad, I care about my CAT!"

Suddenly, he'd grabbed you by the shoulders and slammed you into the nearby wall, his voice hissing like a viper when he spoke. "I don't give a shit about your fucking cat. I am stressed enough as it is and I am focused on finding Michael fucking Myers, not your shitty little cat. Let. It. Go."

The sign of movement in the shadows behind him made you smile.

Michael grabbed your dad by the back of his shirt and yanked him back harshly, letting him fall to the kitchen floor. He stood there, knife tight in his fist as he stood over the whimpering man who scrambled for his gun. 

You watched with an empty expression as Michael kicked the gun aside, skittering on the tiled floor and out of reach. "Grab it!" He hissed at you. Michael tilted his head down at him but he tried to not be intimidated. "Grab my gun, just-"

Reality began to settle in as shock wore off. Your ears were still ringing from the gunshots and you could smell the charred butter coming off the stove. "Michael." Your mouth moved but you didn't feel like your words were yours. "I'm okay."

A heavy boot thudded against your dad's chest and you watched him scramble to try and understand. The dark pits of the mask's eye holes bore into you, almost searching for permission.

"You've been hiding him." Your dad gasped in horror. "You've been hiding the man I've been hunting. Right. Under. My fucking nose!" He roared, struggling to get out from under Michael, only ending up grabbed like a scruffed kitten in his attempts to lunge at you. "How long!? How long has he been hiding here?!"

You didn't feel like answering. So you didn't.

He didn't like that though. "What have you two been doing? What, do you nurse him back to health under my fucking roof every night? Is that why you've been buying first aid shit?"

None of this felt real to you in any substantial way. It felt like a movie almost, a sick indie film about a serial killer you'd grown attached to finally snapping and slaughtering your family because you'd finally given him the chance to get close. You watched Michael press the tip of his knife to your dad's sternum and could almost see the anger and hatred rolling off the masked man in waves.

After all, you'd given him a hard line of not hurting Mayhem. And your dad just broke that rule.

You backed up against the fridge and slid to the floor, watching with a distant expression as Michael wrestled the man to the floor. "Yeah." You said quietly, more to yourself than to him. "I clean him. Bandage him. He protects me." A wet laugh left your throat at the absurdity of it all. "We're partners."

No point in hiding it anymore.

"M-maybe I should call Loomis, s-see if I can get you two joint rooms in the fucking asylum-!" The man below Michael yelled out, his words muffling as Michael jabbed the knife into him. Wet squelching sounds that became almost monotonous as hot red sprays erupted from the holes in his neck. Puddles of red seeped beneath the man's body and Michael seemed to relish in the thrill.

"You killed my cat," you mumbled bitterly to the corpse of the man you once called dad.

And you watched as the body ran cold with Michael's anger. He stood up, towering over you as he tracked bloody footprints as he approached you. "Hi." You said absently, giving him a small smile. "You'll have to kill our neighbor. No witnesses."

He tilted his head curiously and you just let your head fall between your knees. You didn't want to talk about this anymore than you had to. "Just- Just get rid of the body, okay? I'll clean up."

Had you looked up, you would have seen his nod.

The stench of bleach burned your nose and made your eyes water as you scrubbed at the now blood-free kitchen floor. You'd opened the windows to air out the smell but it still felt like it was suffocating. But there was no evidence anymore, thank god.

You didn't ask Michael what he'd done with the bodies. You'd kept your head down when he'd lifted it up and carried it with him out the back door and you were content not knowing. It would only serve to upset you.

Clutching the rim of the sink, you let out a long, pained sigh. Things were going to change now. Your father and Mayhem's blood was all gone, the knives would be disinfected, and Michael's jumpsuit would go through the wash again. No evidence any of this had even happened.

Logically, you knew this should upset you. It did, only in the sense that the wet plunging sounds of the knife echoed in your mind. But you couldn't feel anything beyond anger that he'd shot Mayhem. That he didn't care about you, only his work. It infuriated you to think about how little your life would change with him gone. The house was bought and paid for, you knew everything he owned would be left to you, and life would continue on.

He didn't matter, in the grand scheme of things. You repeated this mantra over and over to yourself as you heard the back door open.

Michael stood there, his hands and suit stained with blood. Flecks of dark red stained the white mask in harsh streaks that made you want to hurl. "How, um, how did it go?" You tried giving him a smile but fell short. He approached you and you did your best to hide your flinch when he took your wrist. Red stained your skin and you heard the sickening stabbing again. "Sorry," you mumbled, "I should have done something to- to try to make him leave, or-"

Michael cut you off with a harsh tug on your arm. Your head snapped up to meet his eyes behind the mask, your own wide in confusion. He just stared you down, only gripping you tighter when you tried to pull away.

His silent question felt loud in the little kitchen, even if he said nothing. "I'm… I'll be okay." But you weren't sure if you were telling that to him or yourself. "It was inevitable. I- I just didn't think it would be so soon. But, um, I knew I was… I knew I was going to be sticking with you. Partners, right?"

You didn't wait for any type of response, gesturing to his jumpsuit. "Lets, um, get you into clean clothes, yeah?"

Michael didn't budge.

Slowly, achingly slowly, he lifted his hand towards your face, dragging a bloody finger down your cheek and marveled at the way it stained your skin. A red to match his own,

And as quickly as he came, he left. His footfalls were heavy as he went up to the bathroom and left you floundering in the kitchen. You broke from your trance only when you heard the shower running. Swallowing, you followed his trail upstairs to collect his bloody clothes. You could only hope the blood was fresh enough to come out easy.

When you passed by Mayhem's food dish, you winced at the memory of your cat's blood streaked across the house. You filled his bowls and set them outside, hoping the prospect of dinner would entice him home. 

It was the best you could do, really…

The cops came two days later. When no one on the force had seen or heard from him in a few days, they'd come by to check. It wasn't hard to play up your distress. The five stages of grief had hit you harder than expected. On the first day, you'd just yelled at Michael, slamming your fists into his chest as he watched you curiously. You'd wondered to yourself after sobbing over breakfast how he'd felt after his sister died. You'd only ever heard stories but you wanted to ask him.

"We found him off a backroad down the way with an older woman in the car," the officer interviewing you asked. "Do you have any idea what that was about?"

You swallowed and shook your head. "He, um, he mentioned he got a call from Gladys. That, uh, Myers was outside her house so- so he told me he was going to take her to a hotel and then go back to work." Your voice trembled as you spoke. "H-he'd been working so much, I-" 

The officer gave you a sympathetic look. "I'm so sorry, kid." 

Michael was easily named the killer so you weren't even considered a suspect. What they didn't know was that he was taking this opportunity while the police were busy to kill again, letting out his frustrations that had been building up. 

He hadn't left you alone since your dad had died. Always hovering in doorways or your wrist if you were close enough. You knew Michael well enough at this point to know he didn't necessarily feel bad for what he did. But he was certainly capable of fearing your reaction. You could easily turn him in now, all wound up emotions like a ticking time bomb.

But you didn't. You were partners. A pact now sealed in your father's blood

Once the police left, you wanted to get out of the house. It all felt too suffocating. You just needed a moment without Michael's eyes on you, if such a thing existed. So you'd gotten dressed into proper clothes and went into town. You knew the whole town would be looking at you so you tried to keep yourself presentable while still looking a wreck.

Which wasn't hard, after everything that happened.

News reports of your dad's false crime scene would be all over the news in a day. All over the televisions, newspapers, and your dad's police buddies would be sharing stories in bars over drinks. You felt sick at the knowledge that he'd had a life outside you and your little bubble of fake domesticity with a serial killer.

It all felt like a huge reality check that left you stumbling like a drunk on the curbside.

You snapped back to your body as you stared emptily at some crummy greeting cards in the little general store. You'd been walking the aisles with no clear goal in mind and many of the other patrons simply let you pass with pitiful smiles that made your skin crawl. "I should've looked at the fridge…" You mumbled to no one.

"Hey." A soft voice interrupted your train of thought and you gave a glance over your shoulder. Laurie Strode, dressed in all black like she was attending a funeral. Maybe she was - a funeral for the town. You knew the paranoia of Michael stalking her never really went away and you felt a little bad for her. A part of you wished you could reassure her.

“Oh, um, hi.” You stuttered inelegantly. “What- um-“

“I’m sorry,” she gave you a sorrowful look. You were getting pretty sick of those. “I heard about your dad… Michael is ruthless.”

You swallowed around a lump building in your throat. “Y-yeah. I hope, um, you’re doing okay too.” You tried to give her a reassuring smile but you weren’t sure if it came out like a grimace.

Laurie just laughed, no joy behind her tight smile. “I’ll survive. Always do.”

You said your polite goodbyes and you left her, now even more uneasy. It was jarring to be reminded that life existed outside your little house in the forest, that Michael's actions had consequences that spread far beyond just you.

It made you wonder if Michael’s intentions were what you thought they were. He’d never leave Haddonfield. Not willingly. He’d continue killing with or without you in his life.

And that knowledge made you feel sick.

Your dad's funeral was mostly uneventful. A few of his work friends came to console you but you denied their company when you went to the cemetery. Your dad had told you many times when you were young that, when he died, he wanted to be poured into water used to help grow flowers on your late mothers grave. It had struck you as odd then but now you understood.

Guilt still ate at you. He'd probably haunt you if he didn't get to be reunited with your mom in some way, so you'd bought some daisies - her favorite, according to him - and brought them with his ashes and a bottle of water. Haddonfield's graveyard was nothing spectacular, just rows and rows of headstones. Some newer with fresh flowers and photos, some older and covered in moss and dirt. The forgotten ones always made your heart clench.

You pointedly kept your head down when you passed Judith Myers' grave. Her parents had a joint headstone beside her, a spot they'd reserved for themselves a year after she'd died. According to stories, they'd believed Michael deserved nothing but cremation. No tombstone, no funeral, just death in silence.

The fate of the Myers family had been a horrible story. Even after their son was shipped off to Smith's Grove, the family still received harsh criticisms for what they'd done. While Michael's actions were certainly the focus, some people still believed the parents had some sway in it or had influenced his behavior. He'd only been a little boy, after all. A possibly mentally ill, neglected child whose parents had, allegedly, favored Judith to the point Michael acted out.

A car crash killed them, according to the news. You weren't sure. The timings had been too close and their funerals had been closed caskets. But you'd been too young to really care about that sort of thing. Now, though, you were curious. It felt like you'd get answers somehow if you knew. Regardless, Michael was left without guardianship and became a ward of the state, locked away in a hospital for fifteen years. At first, the town didn't know what to think of him. The poor, unstable boy who now had no one waiting for him if he ever got out. Many villainized him, of course, but some wanted to see him make a full recovery. They saw a traumatized child who needed help.

It was only after Michael broke out of Smith’s Grove and killed again that public opinion on him changed.

You pushed those thoughts away and focused on kneeling before your mothers grave. Your fingers were still damp from the wet earth you'd pulled out as you'd dug a little hole for the flowers all on autopilot. The little flowers looked nice, spots of white and yellow against mucky browns and greens. This wasn't that different from gardening, you thought to yourself as you added the water into the jar of your father's ashes. Not that different at all.

It felt a bit weird. But it was his wish. After everything you'd done, the least you could do was honor that. Besides, you didn’t really think you could cope with having the jar of his ashes in the house you’d let him die in. So you poured the water over the flowers, dirt under your nails as you showered them graciously.

You'd never made a habit of talking to your mom's grave. Your dad did it a few times and you'd seen people doing it before but there was just no appeal to you. Talking to air felt weird and you weren't exactly going to start now. You'd never known your mom, she didn't need to hear your stories.

She’d died when you were young so it wasn't like you knew her. The concept of a mother meant more to you than who she specifically did. When you were growing up, sometimes you'd feel a longing absence that she wasn't there but the woman buried beneath your feet still meant nothing to you. A stranger whose photos lined the walls of your dad's bedroom - photos you would probably store in the attic. Like you'd never really known them. A part of your dad died with your mom anyways so the symbolism felt right.

He’d always go on and on about how much you looked like her, how similar you two were, that sort of crap. Now, staring at her headstone, you wondered what she’d think of you.

The feeling of eyes on you has become commonplace for you now. An is-ness rather than a concern. So you didn't even bother lifting your head. Just slumped forward, cross-legged, and picking at the dirt under your nails, flicking it at the daisies. "Do you ever miss them?" You asked aloud. You knew Michael was close enough to hear, especially since you were alone. "Your parents, I mean. I doubt you miss your sister too much. I mean, I heard what you did with her headstone when you killed those high schoolers." The bitterness in your tone was not missed but it didn't feel right to put words in his mouth.

"I'm still trying to decide how I feel." You sighed, poking at soft petals. "I never knew my mother so I can't miss her. She wasn't part of my life, only her ghost was. But I don't know how I feel about my dad dying. It always felt like I was competing with her for his affection. He loved her so much and could barely spare me a passing glance…" You swallowed and your throat clicked. "Sometimes I wonder if he'd have been happier if I had died and she'd lived.

If Michael Myers had to be the one to hear your confessions, at least you knew he wouldn't tell anyone.

You wiped your eyes and sniffled. "It's weird. I haven't decided if I hate him for that yet. If I hate him at all, even." When you looked up, Michael was staring down at you, face hidden behind the mask. You almost envied his ability to simply hide his feelings away. You'd never been able to avoid wearing your heart on your sleeve. "Do you ever think about if your parents wished it had been you instead of Judith?"

The silence felt suffocating and you broke into a helpless sob. The kind of crying that you did when no one was around and it felt like nothing was ever going to be okay again. Michael sat down beside you in the dirt, silent companionship through your tears.

He didn't say anything. But he didn't have to.

[tremendum]

fever

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her)   rating: explicit.  (18+. mdni.)   word count: 7.5k summary: but at the timbre of your voice, a cold shiver runs down his spine. his eyes widen in acceptance. there must have been some sort of- poison, or aphrodisiac in that damn plant that you'd both been struck with.  warnings: SMUT. dubcon (sex pollen), age gap (not specified), use of the word ‘girl’, friends(ish) to lovers, canon-typical mentions of violence, needles/getting pricked by a plant, descriptions of canon-typical injuries, unprotected PiV sex, kinda rough, creampie, light cumplay, oral (f and m recieving), a fair amount of begging, dacryphilia, size kink, overstimulation, voyeur Joel if you squint just for a sec, facefucking, mutual masturbation, multiple orgasms, some spanking, choking, reader gets slapped on the cheek like once, dom!joel miller, spit kink, fingering, dirty talk/slight degradation if you squint, light praise, this is just basically porn with no plot, they’ve got feelings for each other but they’re in denial, ellie is in this in the beginning but doesn’t hear them thank GOD,  notes: this is my first work for Joel and though I never finished the first game, the release of the TV series inspired me bc i am a SLU T for pedro lmao. this is terribly unedited because I just forgot i took edibles after i smoked and cranked this out in an hour and a half so sorry if it’s choppy or a bit ooc for joel. ALSO IF IM MISSING WARNINGS PLS MESSAGE ME 

★  

"whose brilliant idea was this?"

you say it from behind Joel, the echo of your boots splashing through the tunnel as you look around you, your eyes sneaking to observe the width of his shoulders, the stretch of his shirt over the muscles. 

Joel can't stop the twist of his lips as he grumbles back at you, "yours." he mutters, rolling his eyes. 

his flashlight cuts through the darkness in front of you two, scaling over the walls that grow slimy with repeated dew and rainwater, algae sprawling over the pipes and reaching its fingers down towards your shoes. he doesn't like being down here, it's too quiet, damp, dark. perfect for cordyceps to grow. 

you let out a soft, amused hum at his words that coaxes a bubble of irritation through Joel - you'd always been stubborn, from the day he'd first laid eyes on you; a young thing at the time, baring teeth you thought were sharp but really just looked like a little doe snapping its jaw at him. 

it's been long enough with you around now that Joel knows you better than he's willing to admit, and maybe also knows himself than he would ever say out loud - because you're still that stubborn fireball of a woman and he's still the tired old man who you find amusing to tease. and he likes it, deep deep down. 

"yeah, maybe just letting it go was the better option." you muse from behind him, voice still somehow dripping like honey though the sloshing of the sewer provided nothing but unpleasantries for the group of you. he turns to spare a glare at you; you were already smirking at him. setting him up, then lying in wait. 

a damn minx. 

he sighs, looking away: sure, he wants you, of course he does - you were spry, beautiful, intelligent, and resourceful. but you were stubborn, and butted heads with him more than rams did in mating season. still, there'd been too many lingering glances, suggestive phrases, and gentle caresses for it to be a coincidence. he could tell that when you watched him split wood or help teach you to shoot a gun that you were probably soaked through your panties, and that made him hard as a rock when he allowed himself to think about it once in a blue moon. 

 but that doesn't matter, because in a world that wasn't like this one - without the danger, pain, the necessities to survive - a girl like you would never bat a fucking eye at a man like him. 

and he's got more important things to think about than how tight you'd feel around his cock, how well you'd take his orders with his hand around your throat. 

but your words not only fall to his ears - from where Ellie hangs upside down from the storm drain, she snorts, "you spent that whole time back there arguing with him just to decide he was right?" she boasts. at this, you grab her arm, pretending to pull her down from above your head and into the storm drain with you and Joel. a splashing noise and a squeal echoes through the tunnel as your boots slosh; Joel turns back with irritation, about to snap at the two to keep quiet. 

but you're grinning, eyes reaching his from where you stand, covered in storm drain water. Ellie's flipped upside-down, hanging from the ceiling with a grin of amusement, her arm slack in your grip. 

your shirt is wet, slick against your plush skin around your stomach and breasts, your hair stuck to your cheeks and forehead and neck. slowly, you bend down to pick the axe out of the murky water, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you shake the water from its hilt. he has to tear his eyes away from the flash of the lacy underwear that peeks from the waistline of your jeans. 

Joel's breathing is almost stutters - you’re a goddamn sight right now, and if the tightening in Joel's jeans meant anything, it's that he needed to look away. 

"it doesn't matter. you got your axe, now we need to get out of here." he mutters, tired of letting you convince him to do asinine decisions like try and crawl into a storm drain to fetch the axe you'd accidentally dropped. your lips pull into a tight line and he ignores the twist of fire in his stomach at your gaze, the smirk as you try to conceal your laughter. it just irritates him even more. 

he watches with sharp eyes as Ellie starts to pull you up and out of the drain; he's trained with a flashlight and his rifle pointed towards the depths beyond you, into the unknown area of the drain. your head is almost out of his sight when it happens: you twitch suddenly and let out a yelp, "fuck!" you hiss. Joel's rushing towards you, calling your name. 

you groan, pulling yourself up with the aid of Ellie as you mutter, "'m fine Joel, something stung me." 

stung you?  he looks around, flashlight searching the area for any animal or insect or other threat - nothing. but when you're clear of the drain, obscured by the dilapidated road above his head, Joel hears Ellie let out an interested but disgusted noise. his gun goes first, then the flashlight. he pulls himself up and as he nearly breaches the light of the Earth, a sharp sting attaches to his thigh, coaxing a grunt of shock from his lips as he pulls himself fully out. 

you're laying, soaked on the hot pavement, Ellie staring at you with wide eyes as you inspect your calf. there's a barb on it with spikes that look almost like a cactus of sorts, bright purple and speckled with yellow. Joel doesn't have to look down to see his own thigh impaled with the spokes of the same plant. he tilts his head back, hand scrubbing his face with a deep sigh. damn it. 

"what is that?" Ellie asks, eyes wide as Joel quickly pulls out the plant from his flesh with the flannel he'd tied around his pack. "don't!" he chastises as your bare hands move towards the spoked on your calf, and your eyes soon shoot up to him. "did y'touch a plant down there? or anything?" he asks, trying to ensure this wasn't anything toxic or lethal, or god forbid, a mutation of the cordyceps. 

but if it had been, there'd have been signs of it. pulsing, infecteds even - but this was a plant Joel has never seen before.

"obviously" you grunt, shooting him a glare, "I wouldn't fucking touch something growing if I didn't know it was safe." you snark. he knows you hate it when he treats you like a child - you've said as much to him before, and loudly - but he can't help the protectiveness he feels for you. your skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, "but it shot out barbs towards me. I wasn't even close to it, you saw me." you defend. 

Joel's throat clenches, his chest swimming with a warm feeling as the tingling sensation on his thigh lingers far after he'd pulled the barb from his jeans. he needed to get that thing out of you, too. you watch him as he pulls it out of your leg swiftly, Ellie sitting back on her haunches as she watches. 

"we should clean these out." Joel decides, standing up and grabbing his gun and discarded flashlight, sending a glare down to the axe that sits glinting in the sun. just what he needs, another thorn in his side. literally. 

--

the walk back to the house was much less exciting for you as it had been before the little romp with Joel in the sewer. the sun is hot beating down on your backs, and your dampness just exacerbates the mustiness of the storm drain's water soaking into your skin.

 your calf is starting to vibrate, almost - although your heart twists with worry, you eye Joel's back and he seems fairly normal. so, you keep going, ignoring the heat that starts to consume you. your head aches by the time you round your last corner to get back.

Ellie's in her own world, kicking a rock as the house nears your sights: you'd landed here early this morning, some people who knew Joel before had lived here: they were gone now. 

but it had beds, water that could be heated, and a collection of weapons and supplies stocked higher than your head. 

so as you settle your things into the living room, you smile, digging into your pack to fish out the scraps of soap you'd saved, enough for several washes each of you were liberal with it. "so, who gets it first?" you say with a grin, unable to contain the excitement in your voice at the prospect of getting clean. Ellie jumps up, grinning with glee. 

"dibs on going last!" she whistles, pulling a dry stare from both Joel and you. she shrugs, "what, don't want to be yelled at for takin' my time." she grumbles, flopping down on the couch, sofa releasing a plume of dust. 

you lift a brow, "there's a second tub down here, isn't there?" you ask. Joel nods, eyes flickering to Ellie, "then you can take the tub down here. but only use a bit of hot water." he chides. 

she rolls her eyes as he points a stern finger her way, swiping a piece of the soap you'd held out to her as she hauls her bag behind her, "relax, old man." she mutters, shaking her head as she disappears, "I'll let it run cold before I get out." 

your eyes fall on to Joel, who sighs, nodding to the upstairs bathroom. "you go." he says dismissively. you chew on your lip, trying to figure a way out of taking the first bath: you needed to inspect this sting first. "no, i can wait. 's fine." you shrug, the feverish heat on your body not helping yourself to focus. 

his hands run to the back of his neck, massaging a spot; your eyes are glued to the muscles that ripple from the movement, the long fingers thick and rough from a lifetime of hard work. you shudder, arousal pooling at the apex of your thighs easily. you swallow, embarrassed - why were you having such an odd reaction to this plant? it was making you feel fuzzy, feverish; the only thing you can focus on is Joel. 

he shakes his head, "nonsense. ladies first." he insists, not meeting your eyes. you feel yourself clench around nothing at his words, his abnormal attempt at chivalry - you laugh a bit. he glares at you, but there's no heat. 

"since when have you been one for chivalry, Joel?" you ask, shaking your head with a smirk. it's sweet, because despite the horror of reality, there were still times when that charming Southern Man that Joel probably once was peeks through the cold, hard exterior. 

rare but not unheard of were the times he'd hold a door open, or say ma'am - but it seems that all that remains of his past is that damn smooth accent and the broken watch he keeps on his wrist at all times. 

he rolls his eyes but says nothing. his face looks red, and you almost bring up the pulsing at the site of that plant's needle; instead, you bite your tongue. you need a moment to analyze it, alone - and to get your thoughts straight, to - to not think about him.   

"you can take first, Joel. I prefer my baths lukewarm, anyways." you joke, a fleeting touch on his arm. 

your hand burns when you pull away and his eyes catch yours as if he felt it too. he must decide to not protest anymore as he nearly stumbles his way upstairs, disappearing into the master bathroom, his hands shaky as they take your soap from your grasp on the way. 

--

Joel knew something was wrong immediately. the more he'd stood there, debating with you about who gets to fucking clean themselves first, the more he saw you, in a tub, fingers caressing yourself; the more real it felt, to see you touch your hardened buds, play with your tits, to hear you moan his name gently.

but his body was hot. he felt a fever like nothing he'd ever felt before, his mind going fuzzy as he'd stumbled into the bathroom, scrubbing his whole body from head to toe vigorously, as though whatever was happening would fade away if he'd just get clean. 

the bath couldn't have been longer than seven minutes. 

by the end of it, he was grunting into his shoulder to muffle the noise, his fist squeeing his cock tight as he fucks himself into it, the hot spurs of wanton need curling around his body, choking him. that god damned soap. it smelled like you. 

he'd thrown it across the room, its pieces splintered across the ground as Joel bites back a groan of your name, the images of you, soft hands pumping him, slick mouth opening to take him inside- he cums over his chest in hot spurts, the guilt red and hot across his cheeks as the feeling snaps from his chest. 

but the fever is still there when he blinks away the pleasured cloud of his orgasm. 

and it's still there, burning hot like a snake of revenge in his body when he slams the door open, body still damp and quick to react to the fresh air of the upstairs bedroom. 

he doesn't go back downstairs, not like this. not when the girl is down there, probably still in her own bath; he's still not sure what he's come down with, or if it could spread. 

now, it’s your turn in the bathroom in the master bedroom - he'd beelined it for the office upstairs before calling for you and telling you it was your turn; he knew that something in him would snap if he were to see you while he was in this state. 

but he should've gone back downstairs, because the moment he hears it, it's too late for him. 

you're moaning. 

it's almost clear as day; muffled through doors as you'd shut yourself from the rest of the house in the master bedroom, and Joel can't fucking unhear it. 

he became painfully hard again mere minutes after his first orgasm and has been restraining himself for what can only have been the ten minutes you'd been bathing, but at the timbre of your voice, a cold shiver runs down his spine. 

his eyes widen in acceptance. there must have been some sort of- poison, or aphrodisiac in that damn plant that you'd both been struck with. 

"fuck." he groans, surprised as it comes out much more breathy than intended, his whole body shuddering as his brain gets even more swarmed with thoughts - you, spread for him, or on your knees, or laying on the table, his cock shoved down your throat-

he hits the wall, hard. his fist stings but it's nothing in comparison to the burning need he feels swirling in his gut and his legs carry him until he's knocking on the door to the master bedroom frantically. 

he calls your name, and a weak gasp is the only response. he tries again, and then your muffled voice calls, "fuck, Joel, that plant-" you cut yourself off with what Joel can only imagine is a moan of pain and pleasure. his cock twitches and he thinks he may pass out. staggering over to the bannister, Joel calls out for Ellie. she stomps over to peak her head up towards him expectantly. 

he's shaking, sweat already sheening over his whole body. he's sure he looks like hell as he grips the landing under white knuckles, "Ellie, we're sick." he groans, "stay downstairs." 

she calls back up, joking that she’s going to leave the house; but she doesn't sound sincere. he barely registers her laughter before she shuts the door, closing herself off to explore the downstairs house without Joel or you to protect her. he's momentarily glad she's not suspicious, instead is relieved to have her own time to herself. 

but his cock is so hard he thinks he may pass out again, and he can hear you gasping out his name from behind the door to the bedroom and bathroom. 

the door to the bedroom shuts and echoes through the empty upstairs as he tears through, chest heaving. you're still in the bathroom, gasping as your moans echo through the chamber. 

he calls your name as he slumps against the door frame to the bathroom, the desire coursing through his body as he shakes with the feverous affects from the plant's venom. 

he can't think straight, "I can't come in." he says, shaking his head as his forehead rests against the cool wood. you wail from inside, "Joel, please, I need- I need you, please I need help." you whimper. he can practically see you, the pleading look on your face pathetic as your brows tangle together, eyes shut in frustration. he knows you're touching yourself, and it makes his cock twitch. 

"I can't." he says sternly, knowing that if he is to come through that door, there may be no stopping himself. he can't let that happen, not like this. "I'll- I'll be good, just- I can't, nothing's working." you whimper. 

"not like this, darlin'." he's grunting through his teeth, but he feels so much desire that it's painful, like he'll die. anger courses through his chest as you let out a drawn out moan, low and full of need even through the wall that separates you. 

"fuck you." you groan, "I hate you, Joel, never let me fuckin' have anything," your voice is strangled, a shuddering moan leaving your lips that sends jolts of electricity throughout his entire being. his hand finds his aching cock, slowly trying to relieve the painful desire that shoots through him with need. 

he glares through the wall, "yeah, well, fuck you too." he spits back, anger coursing through him at your bratty exclaim of irritation for him - the one who kept you safe, who let you do what you wanted - who followed you into goddamn sewer drains to find the shit that you’d lost. 

"walking around, flaunting that fuckin' ass at me." his words fall from his lips before he can stop himself, the desire and haze pulling it out of him as he twists his wrist around himself. "do you know what you do to me?" he nearly growls, "every time you open that mouth it's some shit. always gotta have somethin' to say to me, huh? make me wanna shut you up." 

your moan is nearly a sob this time; it's raw, full of desire, and Joel could just about cum from that noise alone. his neck heats up with the knowledge that his words pushed you even further; he always knew you'd be a dirty little thing. 

but he nearly falls over as the door to the bathroom rips open, catching himself with one arm on the doorframe, his cock still in his fist. his eyes find you on the ground, fully naked, on your goddamn hands and knees for him.  

his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head when you gasp, "Joel, we need to-" you swallow as though you were salivating at the sight of him above you, cock angry and flushed, "you have to fuck me, now." 

he stares down at you, his whole entire body tremoring at the sight of you; your bare chest, nipples peaked at you suck in breaths, face flushed with desire and sweat, your own legs shaking terribly. your hands are glistening with your own juices. he lets out a moan. 

"please," you try to get his attention again, squirming as though you're in just as much pain as he is, "please, just use me, I don't care, I want to taste you." 

he shakes his head, "we-we aren't thinking straight... can't do this." he gasps, even his own words starting to sound absurd to himself. you shake your head actual tears welling up in your eyes, "I think about this all the time, Joel-" you moan, your hand slipping between your legs, the wet sounds sending streaks of desire through his body. “it’s not just the fucking plant, Joel, I need you.” you hum. his wrist hasn't stopped moving, he realizes, chasing that sweet fucking high as you stare at his cock with a wide, hungry glance, begging him to fuck you. he wonders if he’s just dreaming again.  

"you know that I want this." you gasp out, tears nearly slipping from your lashline, "don't you?" 

does he? how could you dare to ask that? 

he groans, nodding, "shit, baby, shut the fuck up." 

"you're a fucking asshole, Joel." you whine, "it hurts." you mutter, biting your lip with a ghost of a smile. that makes him snap. it hurts, and you're fucking enjoying it? 

he grabs you roughly. the minute his skin touches yours it burns deliciously; he can't believe he had the control to not touch you this whole time. his moan is tandem with yours as his fingers thread through your hair, intending on lifting you to take you to the bed; your hands grip his thighs, though, and soon your hot, wet mouth finds the angry head of his cock. 

you take him about halfway before you gag slightly and he slams his hand hard on the wall just above you; your eyes are fluttered shut, a tear squeezing out as your throat opens for him. he groans at the pleasure that courses through him, reaches his fingers, the nape of his neck. you're pulling on him desperately, and it makes him smirk down at you. 

"what, you wan' me to fuck that pretty little mouth?" he mutters, heart thundering in his chest as his fingers shake with desire. you pull off him, gasping slightly for breath, your finger still touching yourself as you nod, a string of spit still connecting him to your lips, "yes." you say with a nod, falling back against the wall as he crowds over you. 

he's not patient, not right now. he knows he could fuck your mouth until he was shooting his seed down your throat and you'd sit through it all with that pretty hair and grin and hell, you’d probably even thank him afterwards; but he doesn't have the time for that. he needs to be deep inside you, needs to be drowning in your cunt, needs to fuck you down into the mattress so hard you scream. 

and you're desperate, clearly: you're two fingers deep, fucking yourself on your fingers as another tear trails down your cheek, breathless as you shift in near pain from need. he resists the urge to coo down at you, his thumb still swiping the tear from your cheek before he grabs you again, this time pulling you up and tugging you onto the bed. 

you let out a moan of his name, your face flush with arousal as you spread your thighs open for him, watching with a pained expression as he pulls off his shirt and jeans, discarding his boxers as he goes. your eyes rake over him and you whimper, still not touching him until he gives you permission.

 it makes him smirk, "for such a brat it's a wonder you're so obedient like this." he mutters, pulling your legs further open as he quickly stands with his legs against the edge of the bed, running his cock against your soaked, velvety cunt. 

you whimper, jolting in pleasure as his head catches your sensitive, neglected nub and he smears his precum there, enthralled in the shapes your nails carve into his biceps as you gasp. 

he can't pull his eyes away from your glistening center - how many times had you cum before he'd heard you? he swallows, the flames licking his belly as he pushes his head against your tight hole. 

he grunts, you were so goddamn tight; your eyes widen as you try to move your hips, try to slide yourself onto his cock, but he stops you with a rough hand around your shoulder, pinning you down. "stop." he orders, leaning so he can spit down, the slick trailing down to settle right onto where his cock nestles against your entrance. you let out a strangled gasp at his actions, throat dry from your noises. 

he doesn't give you time to beg, though, as he's slowly easing himself into you; you let out a yelp at the feeling, loud enough that Joel's hand clamps over your lips roughly, his breath hitting your face, "shut your damn mouth, girl." 

you feel like you're splitting open as he inches in and it's barely just his head but you have never felt such excruciating bliss as now, your breath falling from your nostrils harshly as he eases himself into you. 

you wonder how much he is restraining against just fucking hard into you - but you're tight after the orgasms you'd given yourself in the bath trying to satiate the feelings you'd figured out were from that fucking plant venom. 

you don't even know if he'll fit all the way into you as he inches slowly in, taking a few grunting breaths before fully sheathing himself inside your hot pussy. you clamp around him, feeling full as he bites his lip, chest heaving, slick with sweat. his hand, still clamped over your mouth, tightens against you as he slowly starts to thrust; he reaches a part so deep in you that you nearly scream. 

he's hitting your spot nearly immediately as he starts to quicken his pace, hips hitting against yours deeply. you moan his name, "Joel, fuck, 's so fucking deep." you gasp it, unable to think of anything but chasing the high that's been building since the second the plant's venom entered your system. 

he doesn't seem to like when you start to move your hips, chasing his when he pulls away; his hand comes to your cheek in a quick smack, grabbing your attention immediately. you can't prevent the moan at the sensation, nor the way you clench tight around his cock. 

the moan he lets out is half-way between your name and fuck, as he slides into you deeper, hand wrapped around your cheeks, training your eyes on his. there's a glint of something animal in his eyes: you're sure he sees the same thing in you, the venom of that plant coursing through the two of you, nearly palpable in the air of skin slapping skin. 

your cunt flutters at the eye contact, the desire bringing you closer to the edge; his hands shoot to your shins, pulling them up to his chest and then he leans forward with a deep thrust, coaxing tears of pleasure from your eyes. "that's it, take it." he grunts into your hear, hips punctuating each thrust as his tip nudges that spongy spot inside you that curls your toes. 

then one hand catches yours as you fist the sheets; he pulls your arm roughly down towards where he enters you as he bites the lobe of your ear. "you're going to cum." he tells you breathlessly, directing your hand towards your clit, pressing the pads of your fingers against it. you yelp in pleasure, more tears squeezing from ecstasy as you nod against his forehead, "yes, fuck, I'm gonna-gonna cum." 

"that's right." he's deeper, "cum for me." he nearly whispers it, almost desperate. it's just what you need to push you over the edge: his hips angling in a way that has hot, searing pleasure coursing through you. you nearly go blind when you cum with a gasp of his name. his hips don't even stutter as he fucks you through your orgasm, the relief washing over you in waves of pleasure. you can't open your eyes, your chest heaving, arms locked on his biceps, hips quivering with the intensity of the feeling. 

he keeps the roll of his hips as he slides easily through your ruined pussy, his brows pinched in pleasure. 

"y'feel so good," you nearly go limp, your fourth orgasm drawn out by the touch of the man you couldn't ever stop thinking about. he's so deep inside you, you're surprised you can't feel him in your throat as he thrusts. "pretty girl," he mutters, pinching one of your nipples and sending shockwaves through you; the relief you'd felt from your orgasm, just like the previous ones, is soon washed away by the newly replaced desire, back again and somehow even more hungry. 

you nearly cry at the thought, but something in you still yearns for it and you allow your ankles to cross around his hips. "never wanna leave this cunt." he mutters against your collarbone. you flutter again at his words, arousal slicking you, him, the sheets below you; the squelch of your juices fill the room as he chases his own high. 

a particularly loud cry of pleasure lands you with his hand yet again over your mouth, but this time, you waste no time in pulling his fingers to your lips, sucking two of them in eagerly as your hand tries to wrap around his thick wrist. 

his eyes meet yours and his jaw clenches as his hips stutter, nearing his own high. his fingers work quick; thrusting into your mouth, slick with your spit, gagging you as he bottoms out particularly roughly. your nails scrape down his back and you'd be more shocked if there weren't marks later. 

a few more thrusts and you can tell he's close, so you pull his fingers out of your mouth to gasp, "please, cum in me, Joel," you whimper into his neck, biting down hard as he groans your name. his hand suddenly clasps around your throat, pushing you down against the mattress as he fucks into you deep, his eyes screwed shut, "don' say shit like that to me, darlin'."

but his thrusts are getting sloppier as you squeeze around him, luring him in, the intoxicating scent of soap and him and his musk surrounding your head. "please, I'll do anything." you whine, hand crawling up his neck to cradle his jaw. his dark eyes meet yours and he moans at how earnest you look, his hand tightening his grip around your throat and squeezing slightly, your airway constricted for a slight moment, causing you to gasp for air when he leans back. 

your desire has you cloudily begging, pulling at his hair, his arms, his back, keeping him in, and finally he growls, "shut up." he snaps, "'m gonna cum in you, and you better be fuckin' good." he barely looks at you as he lightly slaps one of your tits, grabbing the other and pinching your hardened nipple as he watches your whole body bounce from the force of his thrusts. "god, you feel so good." he mutters to himself. you preen at the praise, your own high creeping near. 

your lips are clamped shut, his hand holding your head down from your throat as you nearly scream, his thrusts slowing and sloppy. he lets out a delicious moan as he hits his high. "that's right, take me." he mutters, his chest shaking as he cums; he's moaning loud as he thrusts one last time, his seed coating your walls. 

"fuck." he eases, his thumb falling to soothe over your hairline gently as he releases into you. "so good for me, aren't you?" 

you swallow, the burning fire of desire still smoldering in your core, your tear trails long since dried, your body exhausted but full of energy. you nod, unable to trust your words. 

he pumps into you slowly once more before pulling all the way out, the noise of your slick and his cum slippery as you feel empty without him filling you. 

but he's already distracted, his eyes hazy as he watches a bit of his cum spill from your weeping hole, his thumb dropping to slide it back up and into you, pressing against your entrance, your breath catching. 

"is it- is it gone for you?" he asks, his voice strained. you don't need to look down to see that the venom hasn't yet run its course through his system yet; his eyes are still alight with the same animalistic desire that you feel pounding in your heart. your feverish sweating, the headache - most of it's gone, replaced with an intense, destructive desire that has you keening into his hand as it cups your used pussy, his eyes teasing. 

"no," you moan, "you?" 

he's already dropping to his knees as he breathes out, "no."  

your eyes widen. in your haze, you're searching for any relief for this growing arousal, the feelings you have for Joel driving you to beg endlessly for him, yet you hadn't expected him to do this. immediately, his hands wrap around your shaking thighs, his breath hitting your bare, throbbing pussy. you can't even think as you card your fingers back through his hair, hips jerking up away from his face as he licks a small stripe over her swollen clit. 

you're so worked up that you can't help the tightening coil as he soon dives his tongue into you, cleaning up the mess you'd made between your thighs, swirling around your clit. 

you tug hard at his hair's roots, hard enough he's sending a groan into you that reverberates through you, vibrating your chest as you clamp one hand over your lips.

fiery pleasure snakes through your body, your ankles falling over his shoulder onto his back as he eats you out like a staved man. you see his arm moving through your clouded vision and you let out a pathetic whimper as you realize the wet noises aren't just from his mouth on you: he's fucking his fist. his movements make your legs shake hard, eyes rolling back as he sucks lightly before releasing to swirl his tongue.

“Joel,” you mutter, his name the only thing that can come out of your mouth as you can’t help but grind down slightly. Joel's hands are hard on your hips; you know tomorrow as you pull on your jeans, you'll have ten fingerprints marked into you.

 it sends a delicious swirl of pride through you as he moans into you, "you taste so good, darlin'.” he mutters lowly before slowly reattaching himself to your heat. your eyes roll back again as one of his hands reaches up to grasp your tit, thumb and finger pinching and rolling as he fucks his tongue into you. one of his hands snakes up to your ass, gripping it tightly and then slapping it, the stinging pleasure making you buck your hips against him.

“Joel, i-” you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp, the overstimulating pressure making it increasingly harder to speak. your toes curl and  head tilts back as his teeth graze over your clit, your thighs clenching shut as your orgasm nears violently quick. 

"you gonna cum again?" he mutters, barely breaking away from you, his own hand moving fast as he fucks his fist; you yearn to feel him in your mouth, to taste him. “please, please.” you mutter, your hips rocking on him as his tongue swirls, nipping softly at your clit and making you cry out. “please, make me cum, Joel.” you plead, tugging his head closer, his hand slapping your ass again.

and then you're clenching your thighs on either side of him and grinding down as you hit your peak, shaking in pleasure. you grind yourself onto his tongue as he drinks you in, cleaning you of every last drop, his thumb soothing over your hip. he rides you through your high, lapping at you and only pulling away when you go lax on the mattress, legs twitching, gasps ragged and scarce. 

you'd have probably passed out right then and there if it hadn't been for his own strangled grunt, your eyes snapping back to him, to where his hand wraps around his own dick, slick with your cum and his own spit. 

"Joel," you mumble, cheeks feeling hot as your mind starts to lift, desire yet again pooling between your thighs as you slide down, off the bed until your back hits it, hands caressing over his thighs, "let me taste you." you ask, cheek hot as it lays on his thigh, your eyes begging up at him.

he moans deeply as one had slides behind your neck, steadying you as his other grips himself, "stick out your tongue." his pupils are blown so wide you can only see black. you follow his order, sticking out your tongue as you eagerly lean towards his cock, his brows furrowing as he slaps your tongue with himself. 

his hands tug you towards him, your lips tugging over him as you take him into your mouth, trying your best to look up at him. you gag around him as he thrusts his hips forward, your hands flying up to grip his thighs. "fuck, look at you," he moans, his grip tight against your head, slowly starting to fuck your throat, your eyes tearing up. "so eager for me, bet you'd let me fuck you anywhere, hm?" 

your face heats up as you hum, unable to say anything as he slides into you, tip pushing against your throat, your eyes rolling back. "yeah, you would. i know you think about it, darlin'. think about it all the time." 

you should be embarrassed to learn that Joel had, under more sober circumstances, noticed how you acted around him. but instead you let the trail of spit slide down your chin and onto your bare breasts, your fingers pushing it over your hardened nipples as he pulls off your mouth. 

you gasp for air, looking up at him with wet eyes. "get on the bed." he orders and you scramble with weak legs onto the mattress, staring at him, the familiarly torturous desire in you throbbing. his hands push you around until you're on your elbows and knees, his hand swatting your ass. "gonna cum on that pretty ass." he mutters, hand grabbing a handful of the plush skin as he spreads you open, "okay?" 

"yes, yes, please." you mutter, face sweaty and stuck with your wet hair as he leans down, spitting onto your glistening, puffy cunt. you're nearly sobbing into the sheets as he slides into your wet, warm hole, his groans just as wrecked as you. 

"jesus christ, girl." he mutters to himself as he starts to thrust into you, the new angle setting your whole body alight with the coiled pleasure. it builds fast until you feel like you're on fire, his hands rough against your hips, swatting your ass every time your hips pulled away from the overstimulation. 

"you need to come." his breath is hot as it hits your cheek, his chest pressing to your back. he's deep into you, tip hitting your sweet spot with every rolling thrust of his hips. then slipping one hand onto the back of your neck, the other snaking to toy with your sensitive clit. 

your legs nearly give out as your back arches, the orgasm crashing over you before you can even register it. 

you can't see, blind with the bliss of pleasure; your thighs shake as he mutters dirty words into your ear, Joel's hips stuttering as you clamp and flutter around him, slickening yourself and his pubic hair, skin wet with your arousal. you're so sensitive you can't do anything but take his cock as he fucks you, deeper and slower as though he's coming down with the mind fog just as you. 

when he hits his own mind-numbing orgasm, he's pulling out of you fast and finishing in hot spurts onto your ass, streaking up your lower back and sliding down into your quivering core. 

your name is the only thing on his lips as he slowly slumps down onto the mattress next to you. 

you both wait; it's silent besides your sniffling from the overstimulation and the soreness of your throat and Joel's labored breaths. you both wait to see if that torturous feeling comes back to your groins, suffocating and clouding your judgement. 

but instead, the fog clears, and within five minutes of silence and stoicism, you're sure that whatever the venom was, it'd passed through your system. "Joel?" you whisper it, cracking slightly. you hear his head shift; he'd not looked at you at all. you're not sure you blame him, embarrassment creeping through your face. but not regret. definitely not regret. 

he whispers your name back, and there's a vulnerability in it that has your eyes snapping to his, searching for the dilation of his pupils, any sign to show the venom was still in his system. you can't find any. "do you- is it gone? for you?" 

he blinks at you once before nodding his head, "yes. n'you?" you nod at him, muttering a small, "yeah." 

he knows he should go get a cloth to clean you up. he'd possibly have to help you up, help you dress... his throat dries as his now less foggy brain recovers the memories of moments ago; the size of your pupils blown out with lust. he looks over you; he'd ruined you. 

another wave of self-doubt runs through him; you were not like him, you weren't bad like him. you deserve better. 

but the way you stare at him now, as though you want nothing more than to do what you'd both just done every day with him... 

he opens an arm, accepting you as you slide your limp, exhausted body against his own naked form, his arm squeezing you to his chest as he sighs deeply. you nuzzle your face into his neck, your own heart racing just as fast as his. 

he feels like a damn fool - it'd been far too long for him, he's not sure how to approach these feelings he harbors for you, so he'd hidden them down with anger and irritation and eye rolls; but now he's gone and fucked you like you were just some other whore. 

his lips press to your forehead. he doesn't think he can say anything, not right now. he still feels like he's got a fever, and by the looks of you, you feel it too. 

so he hopes the kiss he tenderly lays on your hairline says what he can't: he's sorry he was rough with you. he hopes you're okay. he hopes you don't regret it. he hopes you know... he hopes you know it wasn't just about that damn plant’s venom. 

he pulls away from you after just a moment, rising to tug on his boxers. but as he crosses the threshold into the bathroom to gather a washcloth for you, your soft voice stops him. 

"Joel." you mutter, eyes nervous, exhausted. he stops, looking at you.

you're just as nervous as he looks; you're unsure how to interact with him now, the man you trust with your life, the one who acts like he hates you, the one you know probably loves you; and then you'd fucked him like he was just a dick, though you wish you could tell him: he's so much to you.

"that wasn't-" you're unsure how to convey it, "it wasn't just about the-whatever that plant was. I don't regret it. and I hope you don't either." you're glad it sounds as genuine as you feel when you say it. you want him to know he didn't hurt you. and you hope you didn't hurt him. 

his face flashes with relief, with adoration. "I don't." he says, turning from you quickly. 

and if his lips ghost over your knees and leave goosebumps on their wake, if his hands soothe gently over every budding bruise of his handprint on your hip; you don't mention it now.

if he gently and devotedly wipes you both clean, if your hands fold together as he settles back down against you, if your hearts beat together as you settle into the fever nap that claims you both; you just smile gently at his bashful grin.

and if your lips brush against each other just before the sleep takes you both; well, then you'll talk about it all later. 

.

taglist:    (message to be on joel miller taglist/regular tag list.)

.

[padawansuggest]

Obi-Wan has an uncanny ability to pass out drunk and wake up in beds he could never afford if he farmed krayt pearls for a living. Usually Bail’s with Cody spooning him post clone wars. Whether or not he was on the same planet as Bail when he passed out. Pampered princess.

Anakin can fall asleep fully sober and wake up on a pile of droid parts using Artoo’s front wheel as a pillow. He’s so fucking lucky that lil shit loves him and doesn’t roll forward taking a chunk of Ani’s hair with him. Padme is a starfish sleeper and Leia turns out to be one too so her and the twins are fine on their own if he’s comfy out there lmao. She’s half his size and takes up three times the bed space.

Quinlan doesn’t know where he is but this rock makes a real decent place to lay your head. Also that girl’s lap. Also that guy’s chest. He’s got options. He needs to cheat at sabacc and get a new ship.

Rex goes to bed peacefully in a chill room and under the covers feeling nice and cold and wakes up with either a vod’ika, or a purring Ahsoka on his chest. He’s being suffocated but these are his babies so it’s to be expected.

When Kenobi is sober (not to say he’s usually not just that drunk him is clearly a whole other ball park) Cody wakes up with him tight back against his chest and either chewing on Cody’s arm, or straight up sucking Cody’s thumb. Infant. Also purring and giving off happy Jedi feels so Cody let’s him what a baby.

[stellasvault]

Hello!!!! Can I req hobie x innocent fem reader where hobie is spending the night at her place and and the reader randomly gets up in the middle of the night at like 3am and just literally leaves and goes to the store 😭 and hobie doesn't even know so he has a whole heart attack looking for her and when he eventually finds her he's like all mad and angry since she pulled a "stunt" and maybe he even makes her cry...but eventually makes her feel better....(sorry I just love torturing myself with sad things). Well if you do write this could it be like...hm i don't know how to explain this but things were "normal" then to angst and then to fluff or comfort idrk. I really look forward to reading stuff from you!! Very excited :) have a nice night.

stop this is actually so cute 😭 also i get the whole “torturing myself with sad things” so dw! hope u enjoy <3

❣️ don’t ever do that shit again!

parings: hobie brown x innocent!fem!reader

warnings: angst to comfort, sfw, hobie is a little mean in the middle lmao

—————————————————————————

you heard hobie hum in his sleep, a deep, soothing tone.

hobie couldn’t spend time without you. it was just as simple as that. so, what better way to keep you all to himself than stay the night at your place?

hobie was sprawled out on the queen-sized bed, his lips parted. his chest lifted with every relaxed breath, a steady rhythm.

you were simply observing him before you left to pick up some things from the 24/7 store. i mean, who doesn’t get midnight cravings? you were just going out for a few minutes, nothing to worry about.

you got out of your temporarily shared bed to put on a sweatshirt over your tank top, you knew to expect the rush of cold air when you went outside. leaving your bedroom, you reached for your apartment keys, knowing the store was just around the corner.

you laughed to yourself when you remembered what happened last time you went to the corner store. hobie had stole borrowed some blueberry jam, thinking it was your favorite spread, but returned it the second you found out your favorite spread was nutella. you bit your lip to keep from waking up your boyfriend, remembering the shock and regret on his face when you had said the news.

the door clicked as you locked it as down the stairs you went, on your way to the store to get some late-night snacks.

you had no idea the panic that would set in soon after.

—————————————————————————

hobie tossed and turned on his stomach in his half-awaken form, expecting a body to stop him from rolling off the bed.

his body instead fully rolled over, as he found himself now on his back, dumbfounded.

he immediately shot up, his ears ringing. what happened? did someone kidnap you and he was to busy sleeping to notice?

all the worst possibilities and situations ran through his head, each one getting even worse and more gruesome. he finally threw the bed covers of his body, only wearing a dark blue crop top and his boxers. he jumped off his side of the bed, frantic.

he briefly put on a random pair of sweatpants he found on the floor, not sure if it was yours or his. but at moment it didn’t matter, all that mattered in his mind was you.

“bloody fuckin’ hell..” he muttered to himself in fear, thinking about where on earth you could’ve disappeared to. he finally decided on running around town, every single corner of it. he didn’t even think of calling you on your cell. after all, you probably didn’t even have access to it since you randomly disappeared during the dead of night, right?

he was 100% false.

while hobie was running around the neighborhood looking like a lunatic, you were humming a tune to yourself as you browsed through different chips on the store shelf. so maybe you had spend a while looking at snacks, so what? there were a lot of options!

a sudden ding! sound rang in your ears, signaling another customer had entered the shop. this didn’t concern you in the slightest, as you resumed humming, oblivious to the fact that hobie was next to the snacks and chips aisle, making his way towards you.

“oh fuck, there you are!” his voice louder with each word, walking quickly towards you.

“hobie, what are you-“ you were cut off with an angry outburst.

“what were you even thinking? he whispered through his teeth, his hand gripping your forearm.

“oh, i was just hungry!” you explained happily, showing off your snacks.

he sighed as his grip on your forearm tightened, pulling you toward the front of the store to pay.

“go on.” hobie nodded almost silently. you paid for the food quietly, saying a ‘thank you’ to the employee before hobie pulled you away outside and letting you having.

“i can’t believe you?! are you fucking serious? do you know how dangerous it is at night? i was worried SICK.” he shouted angrily, moving his hands around frantically. “you really don’t realize how careless you can be, do you?”

you went silent, shocked at his sudden outburst. “i’m sorry..” was all you could let out. you could feel the tears stinging your eyes. a lump formed in your throat as you tried to hold back the sob that was beckoning forward. you knew if you didn’t walk away soon you would burst into tears, deciding to briskly walk past hobie in the direction towards your apartment.

hobie stiffened as you walked away. “hey! where d’ya think you’re going?” he shouted to you, but you stayed silent. if you even let one sound out, you were going to let all hell break loose.

hobie sighed before he swiftly walked back to you. “look, love. i was just upset, i swear i didn’t mean none of tha’” he explained with an almost silent voice.

you shook your head. “i get it. i shouldn’t have went out without telling you.” you looked over at him to see his face illuminated by the moonlight. you noticed you had arrived at the apartment.

“no.” hobie simply said, putting both hands on either one of your shoulders. you turned your head up to look at him, his expression filled with sincerity. “you know i didn’t mean a single word i said, right?” he asked, his voice in a higher pitch than usual. he couldn’t lose you. he wouldn’t lose you.

you stayed silent, unable to answer. you simply had nothing good to say. you had thought he meant every word, but his apology had made you doubt your thoughts.

“you’re amazing, love. don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise, yeah?” he tilted your chin up to look at him, his voice dripping with guilt. “load of shit, what i said. you’re perfect.” he smiled at the last word before planting a long kiss on your forehead, his lip ring cooling your skin.

you chuckled lightly before giving him a small smile, looking up at him.

“i think you’re pretty perfect too, hobie,” you giggled, “now let’s head to bed, i’m finished.”

—————————————————————————

this isn’t my best work i’m so sorry 😭 but i had a lot of fun writing the angst, i’ve never really wrote it at all :)

thanks for reading!! ⭐️

•🍡🍡🍡

[nipuni]

Time for an old school blog post, Hello!

Just various updates about life and shows and clothes and some photos! Adding a read more cut because I talk too much 😊

Happy equinox everyone!! The mild weather has been wonderful for daily park walks. We have been taking our meals outside as often as we can to make the most of it before summer scorches the land and all life. The longer days allow for a lot more wandering too but the imminent return of the heat is also making the longing to move up north worse by the day. We miss the choppy ocean and seaside cliffs 😭 We love the silence and the rain and the nippy sea breeze!! it's like being suspended in early spring for half the year and a rainy autumn the other half, Ideal if you don't mind humidity, but that's what wellies and flat caps are for. We have been looking for properties to rent to show up everyday so for now we lie in wait.

Speaking of nature, a few months ago we discovered a free app called Plantnet that you use to take and upload photos of plants, trees, flowers and it will identify them for you. You keep a log with their locations and can share them too to help contribute to each local biodiversity database. It feels like a pokedex for plants. There are many apps like this one to choose from too. It's been so fun learning what all these plants are called and memorizing them! I recommend it, is like a little educational side quest to take on while stretching your legs and getting some fresh air. This is not an ad I promise lmao I just think it's neat! kind of sad feeling the need to clarify that.

This weather is also making me want to start making outfit posts again! It's been so long since I made any!! my winter wardrobe is mostly long wool coats or capes and boots so the inspiration wasn't there but now I'm ready to pull out all my stuff back from under my bed storage and experiment again 👏 I've also been meaning to share some of Nicolas outfits for ages too so there is more variety, could be fun!

Speaking of clothes, lately I've grown more and more frustrated with how poorly most clothes fit me to the point where I'm considering learning how to make them from scratch. I usually have to take in the tops and hem the bottoms but most things I try on are just built weird even if I fix the size, or maybe I'm built weird! I think it may be both. Nicolas also said he would love to learn along with me so we will probably embark on that adventure soon. OH and on a short tangent, I got myself a sort of binder-like top that flattens the chest a bit and I'm loving it! I'm very flat already but what little bust I do have has always bothered me when I dress and I've found I feel a lot more comfortable in this type of top. I'm glad I tried it out so if you feel similarly you may want to give it a go too, see how it feels!

On the media side of things we have also been watching more of David Tennant's work. We are still very much in love with him to an embarrassing degree, you can probably tell if you follow me anywhere, my likes on twitter alone give me away alksjdf and Nicolas isn't any better! if he used social media his would look the same lmao.

Since my last report we have watched and absolutely LOVED "There She Goes" we already want to watch it again honestly. The family dynamics for all his characters are always so real and refreshing!! Their relationship with their wives especially are always so believable in every series we've seen, the comfort and camaraderie, the banter and just friendship! You can tell they enjoy each other's company, it feels true. I love it so much!!

We also watched "Inside man" which was..a very stressful mess but David was incredible as always, also very hot and very pitiful which is always great, and Stanley Tucci was on it! so that's also fun.

Then we rewatched season one of Good Omens and the first 4 seasons of Doctor Who, with all the extra content like the Confidentials, deleted scenes, video diaries and more, they are just so good!! our list of favourite episodes keeps growing, season four is incredible, we are loving all these seasons even more the second time around!! Now we are probably going to start watching either Classic Who or Torchwood, along with more of David's work. We were trying to pick what to watch during dinner the other day and Nicolas was like 'damn, David is not in this though, I miss him' and lmao same so now we just watch one show without him and one with him right after to cope 😂

OH we have also been doing more historical reenactment! Since the last one in the 20's we jumped back to Regency times. We have been putting our outfits together for a ball soon and hopefully another one in autumn in the UK 😊 1800 is the farthest back in time we've been yet so it's been fun doing research, finding pieces and learning the dances in class but also very hectic. I'll share more about this soon!

Then we also have a couple of 1900 events coming soon, so I'll be sharing more Edwardian looks as well, our favourite era!!

Anyway I think that's all for now, thanks for reading to whoever is doing so!! I know this is long and not a popular blogging format anymore but I enjoy it a lot, maybe some of you do too 🥰 I will reply to some messages soon, I'm so sorry I'm so bad at keeping up with those!! I've read them all and cherish every word 🥺 Thank you for supporting my art and shenanigans as always!! I hope you have a great week!!

[xhoneygirlxx]

Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince

Steve Harrington x Reader

summary: The cheerleading and boy's basketball coaches are the talk of Hawkins High. When they can't seem to put two and two together, the students have to take matter into their own hands to get the pair together.

warnings: fluff. Steve and reader are both in their 20s. gender/body size/ethnicity are not discussed (the name of the fic was simply picked based off of one line). a little cameo from our favorite metal head. a bit sappy but who cares. idiots in love. we stan the students in this fic, they were doin god's work frfr. also modern au! spelling errors/shitty writing, i'm sick so forgive me for any mistakes lmao.

*if i miss anything please let me know*

a/n: As we all know, today would have been the last day of Honey's birthday bash. That was the plan my friends but bc of party festivities, hangovers, and now a bad cold, we are now behind on schedule. Thank you all for hanging in there with me :) I hope you all enjoy this, love you bunches!

The whole school is rolling fake dice.

Whispers traveled through the echo chamber hallways, bets being placed with the shaking of hands, and gossip being passed back and forth in the lunchroom like a breadbasket at dinner. All anyone could talk about was the two coaches that were blind to their own attraction to one another.

Unbeknownst to you and Steve, you guys were in the middle of a storm of circulating rumors since the beginning of the season. From the moment you two met all hell broke loose, a wildfire spreading through the classrooms of the school.

Everyone could see how much you liked each other, it was so clear like the scoreboard that shined brightly in the gym, except for you. The perfect love story, the cheerleader and jock, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

It started as a game between the cheerleaders and the basketball players, betting on who would break first and finally make it official. Soon it became a game amongst the rest of the student body, all of them biting at their nails and crossing their fingers in the hope that one of you would crack.

To everyone's disappointment, neither of you ever did. It was exhausting watching the two of you dance around your clear feelings for one another. The two of you tried to play it cool, act like any of the accusations were just that, accusations. But it was there, bright as day, on display for the whole world to see.

It was in the way your eyes would find each other's in a crowded room, feather light touches that would linger for way too long, shy smiles and rosy cheeks. The way you talked to one another was anything but two people who worked together. It was teasing, flirty, and breathless any time you talked.

There was a big wager for this whole thing, which team would win the biggest check and which one would have to fork over all the money. The cheerleaders and half of the school had their money on Steve, his reputation as a ladies man helping them with their decision. The basketball team and the other half of the school bet on you, knowing you were more outspoken then he is.

Now it's been months since the bets were placed but neither of you finally crossed over the line from friends to lovers. So the cheerleaders did what they do best, they rallied everyone on their side, made a plan that would guarantee their win.

Winter formal was only a week away, both of you were sure to chaperone without a date. So the cheerleaders got to work, making sure their plan would be executed flawlessly.

Phase #1: Plant the seeds

Two loud knocks against the heavy wood door of Steve's office bring him out of his computer screen. Shouting a come in, he's met with the sight of the student council president, Lauren McPhee who holds a white paper.

"Sorry to bother you but I need this form filled out for the dance next week!" She's too chipper for a Monday morning, smiling brightly like the sun that hangs in the cold December sky.

"Oh yeah, let me just get a pen." Wheeling back on his desk chair, Steve begins to pat his shirt while looking around at his cluttered desk for the writing instrument.

Once he snatches the ballpoint pen from under the stack of papers, Steve grabs the flimsy sheet from Lauren's hand and scribbles down his signature on every empty line.

"Alrighty, there you go." With a tight lipped smile, he hands it back to the nice girl.

Steve watches as her eyes flit over the paper, flipping it front to back to make sure everything is filled out properly. When her features twist in confusion he can't help but wonder why.

"Everything look good?" He questions and she shakes her head while still reading over the curled letters of his name.

"Y-yeah, it's just," pulling her lip between her teeth, Lauren begins to chew on it anxiously, "the section for your date has been left blank. Excuse me if I'm crossing a line here, coach, but you're not bringing a date?"

Her voice is sympathetic, lips pulled into a deep from and her eyes sparkling with pity as she looks at the older man. Steve isn't sure why she seems so upset about him going alone or why it would be a problem, but when she looks at him like a dog that's been kicked he feels the need to answer.

"Oh, well I don't really have anyone to take. Plus it's more important for me to be paying attention to the punch bowl to make sure no asshole- I mean jerk, spikes it." With a forced laugh, he waits to see if his answer is enough to suffice the girl's curiosity.

"O-oh that makes sense I guess, I just though maybe you and the cheerleading coach would go together. You know cause they're also going alone and from what they told me, they never been to their winter formal before." Shrugging, the girl moves her sights from him back to the paper.

"They told you that?" Steve's answer is met with a hesitant nod from the girl. "I-I didn't know that." He breathes.

"At least they'll finally be able to go, right?" Again she shrugs, pulling a folder from her bag to put the paper away.

"Wait!" It comes out louder than he expected, cringing slightly at his volume. "Can I hold onto that and then had it in later?"

"Sure! I'll be back on Wednesday." A sunny smile shines at him, the white paper being passed back to him. "See you then, coach."

Waving him goodbye, Lauren shuts the door behind her where the cheerleaders wait for her. With a singular thumbs up, they begin to jump with joy only for a moment before moving on to phase two.

Phase #2: Destroy the band room

Now destruction of school property was not something any student was willing to get written up for, but with the help of an adult maybe they wouldn't have to.

Mr. Munson was the band instructor and drama teacher, as well as Steve Harrington's right hand man. Before he was an educator, Eddie Munson menaced these halls for many years. Before getting his act together and after he quit selling weed to the students in the woods, he worked as an apprentice for a while, following a plumber around for months while he went to college for education.

"Mr. Munson come on, don't you want to see your bestie finally get a happy ending?" Karissa Thomas batted her eyelashes at him as she begged for his help.

"I don't know guys, I could get into a lot of trouble." Rubbing his forehead, Eddie sighs as he weighs out his options in his head.

"Think of it this way, you can finally give principle Higgins the finger. At least metaphorically." Anthony Whitmer adds.

"Plus, we'll give you some of the profits." Mark, another band kid pleads from the group.

Eddie leans against his desk wide eyed, smirking slightly at his band students. Who knew they would be so devious.

"Fuck it, I'm in." The group before him shout in victory while Eddie laughs devilishly. Somethings never changes, he thinks.

So this morning when he arrived at school, Eddie made sure that no one was around when he began fucking with the pipes. After about twenty minutes and sore upper arms, he finally succeeds by springing a leak.

When he reported the leak to principle Higgins, he was met with a side eye before getting the approval of the gym slot after school, which meant you and your team would be forced to share with Harrington and his team until it got fixed.

Phase #3: Offer planning services to coach Harrington

Now to bring this whole plan together, cheer captains Dan Morrison and Amber Hall needed to be in the same place at the same time as Steve Harrington. The only problem was his office and where he usually occupied the most was the east wing of the school. The east wing was the closest to his office and it was the least traveled hallways out of the whole school.

That meant they needed to make it look like they were that way for a reason. Luckily for them, the art room was also in the east wing, so they would make it look like they were grabbing poster boards for last minute winter formal posters.

Lunch time was the best time to put this into motion, so the minute the 11:50 bell rang, Dan and Amber sprinted to the east wing in the hopes they would catch him.

After rummaging around for glitter, markers, and poster boards, the two waited at the door, peaking over the frame in the hopes to catch the older man. When the door of his office opened, the two seniors began to walk out of the room talking about random things to not make it look so obvious.

In the hopes of sparking a conversation with him, Amber dropped the container of markers causing colorful pens to fall all over the hard floor.

"Amber, I told you not to drop them!" Dan laughs, putting the white posters to the floor in order to pick up the rolling markers.

"You made me laugh!" The girl argues back, laughing loudly as she crouches to help.

"I didn't even do anything." He replies, making the girl laugh even harder at his comment.

The echo of Steve's heavy footsteps could be heard by both teenagers, but they ignore it so he wouldn't catch on.

"You guys cool?" Steve asks, crouching down to help pick up what fell.

"H-hi coach," Amber greets, catching her breath from her heavy laughter, "We're okay, Dan just made me drop these."

The boy in question huffs and rolls his eyes playfully, continuing his actions of gathering the rest of what's on the floor.

"So what are you guys doing with all this, anyway?" Steve asks, pushing off on his knees to stand.

"Oh, just last minute posters for the dance." Dan says nonchalantly as he gathers his pile of supplies.

"You're going, right?" The young girl asks and Steve responds with a small sigh, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah I'll be there." Nodding his head, the man places his hands on his hips looking at the two kids in front of him.

"That's fun! Are you bringing a date?" Amber wiggles her eyebrows.

Shoving her playfully, Dan looks at her with a gasp. "Oh my gosh, Amber you can't just ask that. Sorry, coach." Doing his best to look sympathetic, Dan offers his best smile to the older man.

"It's okay, Dan," Steve places a hand out, looking at the brown haired boy, "Actually, I was wondering if you guys could help me with that."

"Sure!" The cheerleaders agree in unison.

"Let's talk about this in my office." Pointing a thumb to the end of the hall, spinning of the ball of his foot to lead the way.

Steve defiantly doesn't see how bright both of the teen's smiles are from where they walk behind him and he surely doesn't see them giving each other a high five.

Phase #4: Get you to go to the parking lot before practice

This phase was probably the hardest of them all. You were very keen on punctuality, always the first to be at the building to make sure everything was set up. Now that you'd be sharing the gym with the basketball team, you were more than likely to be there a whole lot earlier than usual.

Now this is where the most important players come in, Lauren Hernandez and Simon Carter. The two freshmen were bright stars at Hawkins High, the leading members of the mathletes and very trust worthy students.

When this whole plan started it was known that they'd need someone who was convincing to divert your attention, so the two meek students volunteered without a second thought. The amount of money they'd win if coach Harrington made the first move was way more important than credibility at this point.

When they spotted you coming through the outside gym door, the two kids began to put on their show. Rushing through the two gymnasium doors, Lauren and Simon pant acting as if they ran a mile.

"C-coah, we need-" Simon bends over, bracing his hands on his knees while breathing heavily, "We need your help!"

You immediately drop your bags, sprinting over to the two youths. Worry is written all over your face, eyes immediately checking for any visible injuries on them.

"I-is everything okay? What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Placing a hand on your chest, you wait for them to catch their breath.

"There's a fight outside. Max Newman and Devon Lewis are fighting in the parking lot." Lauren rushes out, eyes wide and glassy under the gym lights.

You're more than shocked at the news, the two boys have been great friends the whole time you've coached them. In a flash, you urge both kids to get coach Harrington from his office while you break up the fight.

What you don't know is neither Simon or Lauren have to get him, waiting until the slam of the heavy gym door both run after you to make sure they don't miss a single moment.

Rushing through the entrance doors, the cold winter chill instantly hits you but you don't pay too much attention to it when there isn't a fight happening.

When you walk outside, you see your team of cheerleaders lined up on both sides of the steps, a red rose in each hand. As you walk, they hand them to you, bright smiles on each of their faces when they do.

You can't speak with the amount of confusion that runs through your brain. Even though you want to ask them what all of this is about, you just let your feet carry you out into the parking lot.

You jump slightly when you hear Wildest Dreams being play, the only difference is the band kids stand off to the side with their instruments. Giggling slightly, you imagine Eddie Munson teaching his kids a Taylor Swift song but Bridgerton style.

With a bundle of roses in hand, you continue out into the snow covered parking lot. Under the street lights you see him standing with his hands in his pockets. Behind him stands some of the drama kids, holding big white posters. Taking a moment to read the blue and silver lettering, you gasp when it finally hits you.

F O R M A L ?

Tears prick your eyes and not just because of the cold winter wind. The thought and dedication that went into this must've taken so much (more than both of you even realize), you're heart beaming with the thought of Steve putting this together.

"So what do you say, coach? Will you do me the honors of being my date to the dance?" Steve's cheeks are red and his teeth glimmer under the florescent lights.

You can't help but let more tears fall, all of the pining and wishing finally coming true under the darken sky, right where the two of you first met. It feels too good too be true, a real life fairytale happening in real time.

"Of course I will." It comes out loud enough for only him to hear, the two of you looking at each other in adoration.

In a split moment, Steve's strong hands pull you in and wrap you in the tightest hug, something you dreamt of all this time. Even in the cold temperatures, his body heat, his touch holds the heat of a thousand suns.

The roaring cheer of all of those around you, besides the band who continue to play, fills the open air. You and Steve are so wrapped up in each other you don't even notice the flash of the camera, Andrew Johnson of the yearbook committee getting multiple shots of the whole thing.

Pulling back enough to look at one another, you smile brightly up at him. Steve looks so pretty like this, cherry nose, snow flurries collecting in his eyelashes and hair, and a smile so sweet it could rot your teeth.

"I can't believe you did all of this." You say with a laugh, shaking your head in amazement.

Chuckling slightly, he looks down bashfully at you. "Yeah well, I had some help." The two of your look all around the parking lot where multiple students stand, all from different clubs, groups, and social brackets beam and cheer for the two of you.

The two of you turn back to one another, gooey looks on both of your faces and love filling your eyes. "Who would've thought." You say breathlessly and he agrees.

"Can I kiss you?" It's breathless and hopeful when Steve says it, and you're answer is just as breathless.

Connecting his lips to yours felt like two puzzle pieces fitting together, it's feels like home, and it feels right. Like a snow globe, you and Steve are frozen for just a moment under the December snow.

I hope you all enjoy! Love you all <3

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[sunshines-legacy]

Pining in the Undercroft Pt2 - Sebastian Sallow

Read part one here!

Pairing - Sebastian Sallow x Female MC

Word count - 1.6k

Warnings/tags - Smut, neck kissing, unprotected sex, All characters are 18+, NOT PROOFREAD

Summary - Sebastian finds his best friend moaning his name in the undercroft after an argument.

A/N - This took so long to write TvT Im gonna be so fr I was baked the entire time I wrote this lmao And if you notice any inconsistencies with their position please forgive me! Some things may have gotten jumbled when I was writing the second draft.. ANYWAYS I hope yall enjoy! Also constructive criticism is welcome! <3

divider credit

“Sebastian.. Fuck me..”

The Slytherin in question froze, shocked by the Hufflepuff’s sudden request. Just that morning they’d only considered each other friends. Despite that, Sebastian had been dreaming of hearing those words fall from her lips. Now that it’s finally happening, he cursed himself for freezing. For a long moment, all he could do was look down at her with those puppy eyes that she fell in love with. That was until those very eyes darkened and resembled more of a wolf than a puppy.

Sebastian let out a low chuckle before crashing his lips onto hers. She responded, in kind, by granting him access to her tongue when his own flicked over her lips. Sebastian pressed his knee against her core as a reward for her obedience. She whined into his mouth as she rolled her hips against his leg.

With her wrists bound, Sunshine brought them over Sebastian’s head to take firm fistfuls of his hair. The freckled boy smiled against her lips as her nails scraped his scalp before tugging his hair lightly. He pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavier than before as they rested their foreheads together.

After a moment of basking in each other, Sebastian moved his hands from her hips to his shirt, unbuttoning it as fast as his shaking hands would let him. When his shirt hung open, Sunshine soaked in the sight, rolling her lip between her teeth. With his ego thoroughly inflated, Sebastian stood up and unbuckled his bet. His lips curved into a teasing smile watching her eyes widen when he dropped his pants and boxers.

“Enjoying the view, are we?” His teasing tone ever present despite the barely tamed desire in his words.

“Oh yes, I am quite enjoying it,” She quipped back, admiring his size. She licked her lips at the bead of pre on his tip before her eyes flickered up to meet his. She squirmed under his increasingly ravenous gaze and opened her legs more, inviting him in.

He retook his place between her legs, his dick standing at attention as he lowered his hips. Sunshine let out small whines when he rubbed the head through her folds. He let out a stuttered breath as he looked upon her form. Her naked body laid bare to him, hands tied, and an eager smile waiting for him. Her half-lidded eyes shown so much trust alongside her ever growing desire.

He ran a hand up her thighs, feeling her flesh under his fingers and relishing in the way she shuddered under his touch. His other hand pressed his length against her. He pushed it in. Only a few inches at first but her gasp encouraged him to push in further. He halted, however, when she drew his attention with a pained whimper. Snapping his head up to look at her, he observed her scrunched face.

“Should I stop?”

Sunshine shook her head. “No. Keep going.” Her breathy voice made Sebastian week in the knees but he obliged her.

The Slytherin boy let out a breath of relief before returning his focus to burying his length in her cunt. Pushing the rest in as gently as he could to minimize her discomfort, he nearly unloaded right then, seeing how his cock disappeared inside her. She let out a small sigh of contentment as their hips met and he filled her so perfectly.

“Is this okay, Darling?” Sebastian asked, leaning forward, holding her hips in place. He really wished he would just shut up and ravish her already. He barely held back long enough to get her answer. She was just so tight around him... so warm. Her greedy cunt sucked him in with such desperation he could’ve laughed.

“Yes.” she whispered resolutely. Eager eyes followed Sebastian’s movements as he pulled out halfway before easing his cock back in. He repeated that, moving as slowly as he could stand, earning low hums of approval from the girl beneath him.

His hands left trails of fire on her skin as they roamed her body. One hand moved to caress her thigh and his other hand indulged in her breasts, squeezing and groping the supple flesh. His hips rolled, the new motion had Sunshine squirming as his cock stroked against her G-spot. After hearing her pleased whimpers, Sebastian couldn’t restrain himself any more. He pulled out almost all the way and before Sunshine could utter a word, he slammed into her.

Sunshine’s back arched and her head lolled back on the arm of the couch. Her mouth hung agape as a string of mewls fell from her lips. When she finally gathered the energy to open her eyes, she found Sebastian staring down at her with half-lidded eyes that closed in bliss with every thrust, and a pussy-drunk smile.

The sound of skin slapping alongside a chorus of grunts and moans echoed through the Undercroft, rebounding the symphonies of their pleasure. Sebastian pushed her thigh up until it pressed against her breast, the new position granting deeper access and his head kissed her cervix.

The familiar knot of upcoming ecstasy wound itself as Sunshine rolled her hips up to meet his. Her hands strained against their restraints and she whined, wanting to touch him too. Noticing her nonverbal request, he made quick work of the tie and dropped it to the floor. As he expected, her arms wrapped around him and clawed at his back, desperate for something sturdy to hold as she spun in a whirlwind of pleasure.

He dragged his hand over her skin, feeling every dip and curve, until it made contact with her clit. She sucked in a harsh breath at the sudden jolt of pleasure. Sebastian groaned, his cock throbbing as her walls squeezed around him. She called out his name and he responded in kind by rubbing a firm circle on her clit. It was electric and her body twitched as he kept teasing the bundle of nerves.

Hearing his name fall from her lips so perfectly, over and over, made him dizzy with desire. He snapped his hips into her and earned such pretty sounds from the girl beneath him. Sebastian let her leg fall from his shoulder to wrap around his middle while he kept abusing her clit. She tugged at his hair, begging him to go faster.

He obliged her request and increased his speed, in tandem with his breath. Sunshine babbled nonsense, her brain turned to mush with her second orgasm peaking around the corner. The only coherent word that fell from her lips was his name. And the only thought in her head was him.

Sunshine’s whole body tensed in his grasp and her mouth hung agape as he coaxed her closer to her orgasm. But it was only when he leaned down and bit down on her shoulder did she fall over the edge and plunge into pleasure. Her walls fluttered around him and he fucked her through her orgasm. His slow pace eased her back to reality. But before she was fully back, Sebastian sped up and slammed into her, sending her head spinning and body buzzing with overstimulation.

Chasing his own high, Sebastian sped up even more, his thrusts getting sloppier until his hips stuttered. He threw his head back and let out a guttural moan as he shot his load into her as deep as it would go. He pulled out a little bit, only to slam back in and shooting the rest of his seed.

What was previously a symphony of moans and tell-tale sounds of sex, was now just the lulling of their heavy breaths mixing with the cool air of the chamber.

Before Sebastian could pull out fully, Sunshine stopped him with a tug on his hair. He looked up at her, chest rising and falling.

“Can we just stay like this for a bit?” She asked softly, refusing to meet his gaze.

“You like my cock inside you that much, Princess?” He chuckled with a knowing smile. Her eyes widened, and her cheeks blazed. Sebastian winked cheekily and she only scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“And so what if I do?” She frowned at him but her legs squeezed him closer to her, locking him in place.

He chuckled and leaned forward to press open mouthed kisses along her neck and jawline, relishing the sounds she granted him. Locking eyes with her again, Sebastian gazed into her soul, into her very existence. And she gazed back.

The two laid there together for a long time. First in comfortable silence, then chatting and laughing. Eventually, they agreed that it may be suspicious how long they’ve been away. They had almost surely missed curfew.

Sebastian pulled out slowly and let out a shaky breath. He watched with a proud smile as his sperm leaked from her messy hole. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before standing. He slipped on his boxers then found his wand discarded on the floor. He cast the cleaning charm and frowned slightly as his sperm was sucked up into the tip of his wand.

“Why don’t we just stay here tonight? It’d probably be safer than trying to get back to our common rooms so late.” Sunshine suggested sleepily, a yawn trailing after her words.

“If you insist, love,” Sebastian kissed her forehead again before transfiguring the couch into a king sized, four poster bed.

“Impressive~” Sunshine cooed teasingly as Sebastian climbed in next to her. Despite his rolled eyes, a grin tugged at his lips.

“I am quite impressive, aren’t I?” He wrapped a loose arm around her waist as their legs tangled together. She let out a soft hum, too tired to even attempt a response. Soon, sleep had overtaken her. Sebastian pressed a long kiss to the crown of her head before following her to land of dreams.