#so I thought it’d be nice to just have it as a reblog of the villain one

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Mr Neil Gaiman!

I thought this was kinda petty, but i said to myself “if i see him on my dash another time, I’ll do it.” so heres my thing haha:

Ive seen you reblog a bunch of mental health stuff recently, and I rlly needed to see some of that. It helped. So thankyou for that :))) I’ve been having a bit of a mental health rough patch so i was wondering if i could just get a word of encouragement? I think it’d help. Thanks :)

I also loved Good Omens and it took me WAY too long to get around to watching it- but it was AMAZING.

Thanks so much for reading this :DD

Have a nice day/night!

Good luck. And you'll find other people cheering you on in the comments.

[halsteadlover]

𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

*Gifs and pic not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader.

• Requested by anon: Hi i saw your post 'exam buddies' and it gave me and idea of Jay gets grazed by a bullet or something and while he's getting checked out he is flirting with the doctor who he has had a crush on for a while and she does to so she denies him and says how unprofessional it would be but while she is talking he walks closer to her and starts undressing her while teasing her and saying "yes so unprofessional" of not that's fine love your work.

• Warnings: curse words, making out (hehe), mention of wounds, and I don’t know what else let me know if I missed any lol.

• Word count: 3604.

• A/N: when he gets stabbed just to see you 😍😍😍. Need me a man like Jay frfr. I hope you’ll like this one I really had fun writing it. Comment, reblog and leave a like if you want, it’d mean the world. Thank you so much for your support sending lots of love to all of you xx

“Halstead, third time in a month, that’s a record even for you.”

An amused expression appeared on your face as you entered the room of the patient you were supposed to see, who turned out to be no one other than Jay Halstead. He was lying on the bed, his back resting on the raised headboard and a bored expression on his face which however disappeared as soon as he saw you enter.

“Oh yeah I couldn't wait to see you, Dr. Sunshine,” he replied, letting his eyes wander unscrupulously along your uniform-covered figure, before returning them to your face and giving you a full on smile.

This was a nickname Jay had given you since the first moment you met and since then he had never stopped calling you that. In fact, since that day he had noticed how you always had a smile on your lips, constantly, how nothing seemed to disturb you. You always had a happy and serene expression on your face and this was one of the things that most attracted him from the beginning.

The two of you had met some time ago when Jay had arrived at Med's to question a suspect who he had injured during a chase and who you had taken into care.

He remembered how impressed he was with you when he first saw you, he couldn't deny you were a beautiful woman. But it was the marked humor with which you addressed him and your sharp but nice jokes that truly mesmerized him. While you two talked in front of that helpless patient who did nothing but bring his eyes between you and the detective, Jay found himself being attracted more and more to you, feeling the ever-increasing desire to get to know you better.

After that exchange in front of the patient, you left Jay talking to the suspect and walked out of the room, winking at him before closing the door behind you and leaving Jay standing there looking like an idiot.

Needless to say, as soon as he finished questioning the suspect, he immediately turned to his brother with the aim of asking for information about you. He didn't know why but he wanted to know everything he could about you. He had looked for you so he could have the opportunity to talk to you again but you were already with another patient.

From that day you had never left Jay's mind or his thoughts.

He found himself going to Med's every time for all sorts of reasons, most of which involved having to say something to his brother who couldn't help but make fun of the detective. You obviously weren't stupid and there was no shortage of your comments regarding the fact there was a very different reason behind those visits to which Jay responded with some mischievous joke that made you blush from head to toe.

However, there was no shortage of visits either due to some injuries Jay got due to his job but that didn't stop him from shamelessly flirting with you even if he was on a hospital bed.

He loved this relationship that had been created between you, the flirting, teasing each other, and every opportunity was perfect to see you but he wanted more. He struggled to admit it to himself but he had a huge crush on you and the fact he couldn't read you and know what you were thinking was driving him crazy. He was getting tired of looking at you from afar, of hiding behind the flirty jokes, he wanted you.

You giggled and looked at him for a moment as you quickly examined his body for injuries. Or at least that's what you convinced yourself of. You were pretty good at hiding your feelings because to say that damn detective gave you goosebumps and set every cell in your body on fire was an understatement.

You sanitized your hands and put on a pair of clean gloves before approaching him, his eyes never leaving yours and just the way he looked at you made you shiver from head to toe and your knees tremble.

Focus Y/n, he’s a patient now.

“What did you do this time?” You asked and he rolled his eyes playfully.

“You're no fun dammit, always straight to the point.”

“You know me Halstead,” you replied. “So?���.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Just a little cut while chasing a suspect, no big deal.”

Your gaze fell on his abdomen, at the level of his left side where you noticed a copious stain of blood. “Well let me be the judge since I’m the doctor. Lift your shirt up.”

His lips lifted into a mischievous grin and you rolled your eyes knowing where his mind had immediately gone. “If you want to undress me just say so Dr. Sunshine, there's no need for these excuses.”

He took off his shirt and you tried with every fiber of your being to try to maintain a composed and professional expression, trying not to look his abs and not to focus on the heat that was spreading through your body.

You swallowed the lump in your throat but you couldn't help but admire that Greek God laying in front of you. “You didn't need to take off your shirt Halstead.” You said in an amused tone before pulling up a chair and sitting next to the bed.

“Well, you know I'm a self-centered bastard,” he retorted and you rolled your eyes again as you began to examine the wound. “Plus I love the way you’re struggling not to jump on me right now.”

You flicked your gaze into his eyes, not responding but maintaining eye contact as he looked at you as if he wanted to undress you right then and there. The heat spreading through your body intensified and rose to your cheeks and you struggled to say anything because, damn, he was just telling the truth.

“J-just, let me do my job Halstead,” you murmured and cursed yourself for the way you stuttered. You looked away and back to his wound and he chuckled, probably aware of the effect it had on you.

You examined his wound. It was a stab wound and luckily it wasn't very deep so it only required a bit of disinfection and a couple of stitches. You took what you needed and sat next to Jay again, who continued to watch and examine your movements with meticulous attention.

“I'll numb the area so I can stitch you,” you said in a firm, professional tone of voice but refusing to look at him. You couldn't do it, not when his eyes were enough to make you a babbling mess.

You tried to maintain all the concentration you possessed, failing miserably as Jay was laying there in front of you with his shirt off.

You couldn't help but let your gaze travel down his abdomen, along his hips, the V-line disappearing into his boxers you so much wanted to trace with your tongue, the line of his underwear that slightly protruded from his pants.

He was so fucking hot and you were about to be burned.

Your breathing quickened even though you tried to keep yourself composed but this didn't escape Jay, who didn't take his eyes off you for even a second.

He carefully scanned your profile and features, the way your eyelids and eyelashes fluttered, the way your cheeks were flushed and he knew it was because of him, the way you were trying to avoid him even if you were attracted to him like a magnet.

“You're so beautiful Y/n, you know that?” he murmured before he could stop himself.

You almost dropped the pliers you were holding, taken aback by his words. You giggled, keeping your expression as neutral as possible even though that short and simple phrase had thrown you into a whirlwind of overwhelming emotions and sensations.

“And you know I’m your doctor right?”.

“Mmh just for now,” he replied “As soon as you're done you won't be anymore.”

“You're actually one of my most loyal patients.” You gave him an amused look, a smirk on your lips as you continued to stitch his wound. “Like I said, you're breaking every record so no, you can't make those comments it's very unethical of you.”

There was nothing ethical about Jay's sinful thoughts about you, but he didn't let them out at the time.

He laughed, never taking his eyes off you. “Since we see each other so often we’re more than just doctor/patient now, I’d say I have every right to tell you’re beautiful.”

“Stop it.” You gave him a fake disappointed look even if you were internally giggling like a little girl. “Am I hurting you? You feel anything?” You also asked but the smug expression on his face and the smirk on his lips had given you the answer you needed.

He shook his head. “Come to a date with me.”

Your heart started beating wildly, more than it already was since the first moment you say Jay laying on that bed. “Is this a question or an order?”.

“You want to tell me no?”.

“Jay, I need to focus.”

“That's not a no though, so I have some hope.”

You laughed, at the tenacity and cheekiness he was showing and to mask the nervousness you were feeling, God, you didn't know how long you could last before giving in.

After about ten minutes you finished suturing his wound and placed gauze over it, recommending him to disinfect it and change the gauze at least twice a day even though he did nothing but flirt with you.

You stood up and removed your gloves before throwing them into the bin along with the dirty gauze you had used earlier and disinfected your hands.

You glanced at Jay, noticing he had sat up in bed, still wonderfully bare-chested. For the second time you found yourself running your eyes over his frame, his broad shoulders, his muscular arms and toned chest.

That man oozed sex from every pore of his body and you no longer knew what to do to resist him.

“Why are you this far? I don't bite, you know.” He said with a wicked smile on his lips, not even trying to mask the way he was eye-fucking you.

You rolled your eyes for the thousand time and crossed your arms over your chest, remaining firm in your position even if with difficulty. You felt as if there was some kind of force pushing you towards him and as the minutes passed you were less and less able to fight it.

“Don't you have to go back to work?”.

“Not until you give me an answer.”

“About what?”.

“About the date.”

“You didn’t ask me though.”

“Well will come to a date with me?”.

You tried to suppress a chuckle but didn't answer, keep losing yourself in those two emeralds that were his eyes.

You didn't have to hesitate like that, you didn't even have to think about it. You were a doctor, he was your patient and there was nothing more immoral.

But then why didn't you say no? Why were you actually thinking about that?

Jay stood up and walked over you noticing your silence, standing a step away from you.

Still shirtless.

God please have some mercy on me.

You raised your head slightly so you could look in his eyes given your height difference, the words dying in your throat every time you tried to say something.

It was undeniable there was an attraction between you two that in one way or another always pushed you towards each other. It was undeniable that man made you feel things you hadn't felt in a long time.

You didn't know what he had done to you, what kind of witchcraft he had practiced on you since there had never even been anything between you. Sure, you flirted with him too, he shamelessly hit on you and sometimes you didn't even know if he was serious or just because of the way your relationship had turned, but you couldn't get him out of your mind.

“You're thinking about it, aren't you? I know you want it,” he whispered, lifting a hand and stroking your hair, moving a strand behind your ear as his eyes continued to admire and analyze every little feature of your face.

You let your arms drop to your sides, dumbfounded as his fingers caressed your skin so lightly his touch seemed unnoticeable. But you felt it all, you felt his touch in every corner of your body.

Your breathing quickened as your eyes alternated between his and his mouth, without even being able to stop yourself.

“We can't,” you whispered back.

“Why not? We both want it, I know it and you know it too.” He wet his lips with his tongue. “And the way you're looking at me now, fuck… I'm fighting every fiber of my body not to throw you on this bed and have my way with you. You can't deny it Y/n, you can’t deny what's going on between us.”

Before you knew it, your hands were resting on his chest, his skin hot under your fingers and his breathing visibly quickening under your touch. “And who tells me it's not just the thrill of conquest? That once I say yes you won't just disappear?”.

His hands cupped your face, his lips so close to yours they kept brushing each other. “I’m planning to do so many things to you that a lifetime won't be enough Y/n, you're not just a conquest. I want you.”

His thumb traced the outline of your bottom lip and your breath hitched, almost making you pass out at his feet.

God Jay what are you doing to me?

“You really think every time I'm here it's to see Will? Don't get me wrong, I love my brother but do you seriously think I'm here almost every day just to see him? Do you seriously think I would randomly find myself at Molly's every night whenever you're there? Do you think I’d let myself get stabbed just to have another excuse to come here and see you?”.

You pulled away from him, hitting him in the chest in disbelief. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?! I hope you're kidding.”

“Do you see me laughing? I'm not fucking kidding. I could’ve easily overpower that piece of shit but you got into my head so much that at that moment I just thought I had the perfect excuse to see you and be close to you. That's how fucking insane you make me Y/n. Please just give me a chance, I want you so bad,” he spoke, not caring about how desperate he sounded.

Now that he had said it out loud he realized how crazy he really was. But did he care? Absolutely not. He just wanted you to accept to go to that date.

“And it's not just wanting to have sex with you. I mean, God yes, you turn me one so much I would fuck you on every floor and surface of this hospital… But I want everything, I want to know every single part of you, the good and the bad, I want you to be mine, I want you to know me and I want to be yours.”

You sighed in frustration, the temperature of the room rising a degree with each passing second. How were you supposed to push him away?

“Tell me you don't want me and I'm leaving right now and you'll never hear from me again. Tell me you don't feel like this thing between us is consuming you too... Tell me,” he continued, brushing his nose with yours.

“You're so unprofessional Jay,” you whispered, trying so hard to fight the urge to give in but, fuck, you didn't think it would be this hard.

“Yeah so unprofessional. Now answer me.”

You sighed. “Jay I…”

“God you're so stubborn Dr. Sunshine, you really want to torture me until the end? Have mercy on me at least now that I'm… Shit,” he stopped, holding his side where he had been stabbed and letting out a cry of pain.

“Jay! Hey, what's going on? Talk to me please.”

“Fuck it hurts.”

“Here, let me help you. Sit down so I can take another look at you. Everything will be fine.”

You helped him sit on the edge of the bed, worried and thinking of every possible scenario imaginable like an internal bleeding.

But when he instead surrounded your hips under your white coat and pulled you towards him, making you settle between his legs, you understood that asshole was just faking it.

“You piece of shit! You've got me worried sick!” You exclaimed, hitting his shoulder harder this time. You tried to pull away from him but his grip was too tight around your waist.

He laughed, a cocky look on his face that only made you want to punch him. “Look at you so worried about me. Just as I thought.”

“You thought about what? That you’re an asshole?”.

“Yes I am,” he replied amused, “But also that all this facade you want to put up, all this resistance is fake. That you want me as much as I want you, so why do you keep fighting it so much?”.

“Because it’s unprofessional, I'm a doctor and you're my patient. We can't.”

“Of course we can.” His hands tightened around your waist, moving up your hips, distracting you and making you forget what you even wanted to say. “Like I said. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me.”

You didn't answer, again.

You just looked at him and melted under his touch.

You didn't know what happened, it was like a switch had been turned on inside you.

All your rational thoughts and abilities left your mind as you grabbed his face and crashed your lips onto his.

You didn't want to resist anymore, especially since you weren’t strong enough. Let's be honest, it was a battle you already lost from the start.

You didn't want to live in fear of what might happen, hide behind the hypocrisy of 'unprofessionalism' because the truth was that you wanted that man more than anyone you had ever met in your life. The truth was, you couldn't look him in the eyes and tell him you didn't want him when just hearing his name made your heart beat wildly and your body lit up on fire.

Jay kissed you back, not even being able to explain how ardently and for how long he wanted that moment.

You parted your lips slightly and he immediately took the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss which was becoming more and more passionate, borderline pornographic.

His hands rested on your stomach and moved up your abdomen, grazing your breasts before settling on your shoulders. He hesitated and you nodded during the kiss, giving him permission to take off your white coat which fell to the floor next to your feet.

His hands then trailed down back to your ass which he squeezed and groped without any shame as you threaded your fingers through his hair, sighing into his mouth at the sensation.

If at first there was a thread of doubt that left you perplexed, after finally feeling his lips against yours, their taste, you knew there would never be a return from that point. You were deeply and inexorably lost for Jay Halstead.

Your heart was pounding as your body continued to press against his, as if you were both trying to suck out each other's souls.

You bit his lower lip and a small moan escaped him which immediately made you press your legs to each other, your insides twist and goosebumps on your skin. He slapped your ass in response, a gesture that turned you on more than you would ever admit.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, pulling him towards you.

“I'll take this as a yes?” He whispered the moment you both broke apart panting as you tried to catch your breath.

He slid his hands down your back, up your ass, your thighs, touching and caressing every inch of your body he could reach.

“What do you think?” You replied, one eyebrow raised.

“I can't even think right now to be honest, all the blood has rushed to my dick. It actually hurts a little, can you kiss it better?”.

“You’d really love it wouldn’t you?”.

“Oh you have no idea how many times I’ve imagined you kissing me better, especially my dick. This mouth of yours is haunting me princess.”

You chuckled – not mentioning how bad you wanted to do it – and he smiled back, feeling lighter, happier.

“Is tomorrow night okay?”.

“Tomorrow night? Are you kidding me? You really think I can last until tomorrow especially after you kissed me like that? No, there’s no chance. I want to see you tonight.”

“Oh Halstead, remember that patience is the virtue of the strong,” You smirked at him, caressing his shoulders. “See you tomorrow night detective.”

You gave him one last sweet kiss on the lips and picked up your white coat from the floor, then straightening out your wrinkled uniform. You winked at him before exiting the room, leaving him sitting on the edge of that bed with an erection in his pants he knew he’d struggle to keep at bay for the next twenty-four hours.

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[tremendum]

Mr. Miller

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)    

rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)    

word count: 6.8k requested: yes. here and here :) 

summary:  “six months before you ran yourself into any trouble with somebody - that's no easy feat, considering your track record, so you like to call it a win anyways. but boy, talk about a rocky start with someone. Tommy's goddamn brother, no less.”

warnings: Jackson era, mentions of marijuana use, age gap (unspecified), sliiightly dub!con, smut (PiV, unprotected), creampie, overstimulation, pussy spanking, choking, spit kink, slight knife kink (do not look at me), dom!Joel (brat tamer!Joel if you squint), slight sir kink, so much dirty talk, lots of begging, degradation kink, dacryphilia, mean!Joel, this is just shameless smut i am horrible  notes: okay i kind of modified these asks but I thought it’d be fun to write it like this!!! as always reblogs/asks/comments are always great motivations :’) this is not reread because i am INSANE! xoxo

(  read the sequel other Joel fics:     fever       landmines    )

★  

to be completely honest, you never would’ve guessed you’d move to Wyoming. 

of course, in this world you didn't really have much of a choice of where you end up; it was hard to travel, yes, but there was some guiding hand that invisibly pushed you upon Jackson in the middle of a really rough winter. 

a girl, lost and on her own through the dangerous sprawls of what's left of the United States - of course Tommy and Maria had accepted you into the community; you were resourceful, willing, and strong-headed. 

most of Jackson was nice.

the people were good, the community functioned, and you were finally safe - you found a job working partly as a patrolman if an extra hand was needed, but mostly as a gardener.

it was a beautiful basin valley with sprawling mountains that glittered in the snow even during summer. 

you'd only been there for - what, maybe half a year? six months before you ran yourself into any trouble with somebody - that's no easy feat, considering your track record, so you like to call it a win anyways. but boy, talk about a rocky start with someone. 

Tommy's goddamn brother, no less. 

you didn't particularly get off on the correct foot with Joel Miller. when he showed up in town, people were thrown off. you surely understood that - but it was Tommy's brother, and Tommy insisted he would be fine; he and the girl with him had already been 'round Jackson before, leaving just a week or so before you showed up, apparently. 

you'd definitely heard about him. 

coincidentally, you'd actually moved into the house that Tommy had wanted Joel to have; the house that had the spare girl's bedroom which Ellie came through to ravage once they came back into town. (apparently the towels at Joel's were too rough no matter how many times they were washed, and Ellie really liked that Tamagotchi you'd found in the bedroom she once slept in.) 

maybe that'd already put him off, the short time in which Ellie had found company in you. who knows. 

but unfortunately, your first impression of him was muddled by a very real lens of beer-goggles and a long week's aching exhaustion in your brain. he was large, a tall man whose disposition dripped of domineering power; he didn't trust anybody here and by the looks of it, they didn't particularly adore him. he kept to himself besides Tommy -  who unfortunately along with his wife were really your closest comrades in the community. 

you almost felt bad for him, because that's how many people saw you at first. but on that night, you were just drunk enough, as you greeted Maria and Tommy at the bar with smiles and a joke about your libido, that you didn't quite realize that Tommy's big brother Joel was sat there, eyes watching you with a glimmer of something lurking behind the rim of the beer bottle. 

to be fair: everybody in this life is unkind in their first impressions. that's just how the world is now - 'every man for himself' is an unfortunately ugly reality and those who are too soft to see that are rarely spared the gore.

but when Tommy introduces you to Joel with a huff of a laugh and a friendly slap on your shoulder, Joel's eyes are distrusting, judging. he doesn’t say anything to you.

you try not to be offended. 

"pleasure to meet ya, Mr. Miller." you nod with a grin, your cheeks hot with slight intoxication as his large, calloused palm slips into yours. his grip is tight - your wince is covered with your words as you momentarily shoot Maria a look, turning back to the man in front of you.

"I met your girl earlier. stormed into my house like she owned the damn thing. was lookin' for some stuff she'd found last time, I guess. I'm just glad she didn't find my collection of big-girl toys." 

okay. okay, yeah, maybe you are too drunk. Maria laughs, at least, and Tommy lets out a chuckle, eyes flickering to Joel. but he just hums, eyes glancing over you once more before returning to nurse his dark beer with a furrow of his brows. “right.”

and pathetic as it is, he was too damn irresistible; you’d imagined that stare -that brooding scowl- one too many times in the dead of night, hands down your pants or in a stranger’s bed. 

and it hadn't gotten better in the months following. 

it was of circumstances most unfortunate for you that Joel and Ellie moved into a house just a few down from you - as much as you wished to just never see the man and his censorious stare, it was unavoidable. especially when Ellie showed up nearly day-to-day with questions, excuses, or even just complaints of boredom to coax you into letting her inside your house. 

a week or so ago, you’d overheard Tommy in a hushed voice down at the dining hall trying to convince Joel it was a good thing, that Ellie was learning to garden, learning about woman stuff (yes, he actually fucking said that), and - god forbid- make friends. 

but you love Ellie.

she in't like Joel. she’s funny, and lively, and easy-going once you warmed up to her. in fact, you actually started to collect things from around town to show her on her ceremonious visits; books, tattered board games, once you even found a trumpet in the crawlspace of your old house. it was rusty and honestly probably still had dried saliva from whichever fifth-grader played it way back before the outbreak, but it was enough to entertain you and the fifteen-year-old girl for hours even if neither of you knew how to play it. 

and maybe it was after Ellie mentioned to you with a giggle that Joel complains about you calling him ‘Mr. Miller,’ or maybe it was when she said he’d always ask about you and what you’re like whenever she returned from your days together. 

no matter what the catalyst really was, you just know you have it bad for that man, in the worst way - because he is a fucking asshole. 

but the worst of it was when Joel and you get paired up to patrol together on the outskirts. it means hours together of breathing and awkward looks, silence from you because he was silent and clearly wanted nothing to do with you. 

you suffered through hours of Joel’s rugged sageness for survival, tugging you effortlessly through boulders, lifting yourselves high through dilapidated structures in the middle of the wilderness. he was strong and capable and fucking sexy, and that made it all the more unbearable when snide comments about your youth or your inexperience or your lack of punctuality would pass his lips. it was annoying how hot it made you. 

as the summer rolled around, the horde was growing ever-present at the lips of Jackson county, festering like the moss that spreads along the woodsy forests in the northwest - hence your increased activity with the others who patrol the area and keep the community safe. 

he was a many of almost no words, and though you were in no way the same when you were around people you trust, the man just brings out the skeptic in you - so for weeks, it was days of the two of you walking in silence, the only noise being weak impasses and jabs at the other’s self-esteem all veiled by a smirk or an eye-roll. 

and still, each day out passed with your untrustworthy gazes pinned on the horizon just as much on each other's trigger fingers.

-- 

you're at your wit's end on one Friday evening as you finally return into town from patrol with him. 

Joel is a man plagued by too many unnamed illnesses; the likes of which you so fondly call in your head 'can't-accept-help-itis' and 'stubborn-old-asshole-luenza.' part of his symptoms render him unable to say full sentences to you without a judgmental look or a skeptical scoff, and sure you're not always the best judge of character, but you're confident that Joel has his eyes on your backside every single time you bend over to move your marker on the trail. he’s thought about it, too. 

but right now, you’re so tense you’re about to snap. 

his gaze hasn't left your profile for - you swear to god - almost thirty fucking minutes. like, nearly the whole walk from the first outpost. he’s been staring at you like you’re a ghost, or a second head sprouted from your neck. 

the heat of the summer night is unsullied; though you’re high in elevation, the warm wind blows a gust over your bare knees and ruffles your hair, coaxing a damp feeling to settle between your thighs under his gaze. 

"if you stare any harder at me, you'll get a fucking nose bleed." you sneer, keeping your eyes ahead as you grit your teeth. his gaze is burning into your side and with your words, they maintain their heat. 

whatever he was thinking, he keeps it to himself. you glare at his own profile, thick thighs, sturdy chest, hair that blows gently in the warm air. his jaw, glinting against the lights that guide you back into town. at least he’s looked away from you. good.

your victorious smirk is wiped off of your lips with his next words, the first in several hours from him besides grunts and directives. "d'you have the logs on you?" 

you look at him with revelation. "shit." you sigh shaking your head, "they're- they're at home." 

his face slides into a look of disdain, deep vexation at the task of now going back with you to your own house to sign the logs and confirm your findings for this patrol. "great." he mutters, feet kicking into gear to hightail it up the street, towards your house. 

the heat is swirling around your legs in the darkening evening as you finally enter your house, sighing into the empty air. the lights flicker when you switch them on, and you'd bring yourself to be more embarrassed about the disheveled state of your things if it had been anyone else with you. 

it doesn’t even matter, after all; his sights are set one one incriminating little piece of evidence in the corner of the living room. 

the small nub that sits on the tray by your windowsill seems to be more salient for Joel than the hurricane that threw your belongings across the space. 

your hands fall onto your hips, sighing as he accusingly lifts it from its ashy grave, eyes furrowed in irritation. your flannel sticks to your sleeves in the heat as his eyes meet yours. 

"is this- 's this marijuana?" he's incredulous as his fingers pinch the burnt-out roach, and you screw your brows at him; is he serious? you ignore the dwarfed look of the small old joint in his large hand, instead rolling your eyes. "yeah, some folks call it weed. you can smoke it and it makes you feel real good. you ever heard of it, Mr. Miller?" you snark, the sarcasm spilling from your lips deliciously; Joel eats it up like a man starved, his jaw ticking as he tilts his head. 

you know he secretly loves when you taunt him with the honorific; yes, it gets on his nerves, but there’s a secret air about him that suggests he likes it that way. it is easier to blur the lines between hate and desire than affection and desire, after all. 

"Ellie comes over here every day." he hisses, eyes sharp. you blink slowly at him, trying to fight the laugh that creeps up your throat; his gaze is dark, furious - did he think you were smoking weed with the girl? she's, like, thirteen. (fifteen, she corrects you in your mind. but still.) 

"that’s correct." you confirm, turning from him to search the kitchen for the log you'd forgotten in your haste to leave. his footsteps ring angry onto the floorboards. "if you're worried about that, I’d never smoke around her. 'm not that disrespectful." you defend, avoiding eye contact as you shuffle through your drawer of junk. 

"doesn’t matter. she won't be coming round much more." he threatens it - tests the waters. as if he has the authority to punish you.

you lift a brow at him, "don’t you think she should be able to make that choice?" you throw back at him, tossing your switchblade onto the table to your right as you sort through the miscellaneous items with both hands. 

uh oh, that struck a nerve in the man. 

his eyes sharpen as he breathes harsh at your words; "don't talk about things you know nothing about, girl." he snaps, crossing his arms, "now find the fucking log so I can leave." 

you glare at him, gesturing in front of you; your eyes scream no shit, Joel, I’m looking. 

it's silent as you search through the drawer, gritting your teeth in the tense silence of anger, thicker than molasses. 

you click your jaw, refusing to let it go, let him think he won. 

"I do have self respect, y'know." you pipe up, lifting a brow as you finally stumble upon the log, pulling a dying pen from the drawer and scribbling notes as you plop down on a wooden chair at your kitchen table.

Joel stays standing; it does not go unnoticed when his eyes take in the contours of your body, the clothes that stick to you in the heat of the summer; a pair of jean shorts, torn from years of use, and a thin tank top, covered with an unbuttoned flannel. his eyes sear into you at your words.

wow. fuck him. 

(no, not like fuck him, but- fuck him.) 

"never said you didn't, darlin'." he mutters condescendingly, the pet name leaving his mouth bitterly. any form of backlash you were going to unleash on his dies in your throat quickly when he leans over your shoulder to sign his own name next to yours. your eyes widen to search his face as his own skim over your account of the patrol. he's- wow, he's closer to you than you would have expected. 

holy shit. smoky swirls of gunpowder, pine, and dark amber whiskey. they fill your nostrils, dizzying your mind as you let out a stuttered breath - it's hot in here... your eyes glance as a small lick of sweat trickles down his neck. your throat is dry, heat swirling in your abdomen as he hums, "jus' think Ellie should start hangin' around with others." 

"why's that?" you snap, daring him to say it. fuck, your heart is pounding in your chest. oh, if he just admits it; that he thinks he's better than you, that he thinks you're pathetic - lord, you yearn for it, you’d have a fucking field day. you want an excuse to hit him. or bite him.

fuck Joel Miller, and- okay, fine. fuck him, too. 

his brows are furrowed as he glares hawkishly at your stubborn form; his gaze is serrated with disdain, jaw clenching with the words you're just begging him to admit.

"she's been cussin' and speaking...vulgar." he mutters, eyes flickering away from you. your jaw unhinges as you huff in surprise; he has the audacity to accuse you for teaching her to be foul-mouthed? hadn't she traveled with him for, what, a year? she’s a teenager - that’s what they do. 

"oh, please." you snap, "that girl was far from a princess when you showed up here, you know." you mutter, tossing a look over your shoulder up at him, the buttons undone at the top of his shirt staring at you, mocking you. 

"I know." he dismisses. his hand falls to stable himself on the back of your chair as he leans down towards you, "but you ain't helping. don't need her gettin' into any more trouble." 

you narrow your eyes, "trouble?" you parrot, accusing. 

the air is warm, thick as you cross your arms, the windows open and flowing the outside summer air into your nostrils. "how could I be trouble? you hardly know me." you snap, offended. you swirl with irritation. 

"because I listen. people think you're harsh. untrustworthy." he spits, smirking down at you as if his words are poison that'll dissolve your whole being into a small puddle of regret. but no, it's gasoline; his words are enough to incite your flames, lick you alive with ardor. 

he doesn't like you? oh, big fucking deal. you don't like him. 

"you ever heard of the pot calling the kettle black, Mr. Miller?" you drawl, lifting an accusatory brow. “what if you’re the bad influence? it’s not like you have any more manners than I do.” 

his jaw sets and his nostrils flare from his sharp exhale; you let your eyes swipe over the splattering of freckles that peek out from under the scruff beard that grows; a scar jags across his skin, frown lines creasing his scowl in a dark, terribly attractive way. you’re tip-toeing a line here, you can feel it. 

he can feel it, too. 

his eyes dip down, though you try hard to hold his heated gaze; they trail slowly over your shoulders and down, down to the dip of your collarbones and then over your breasts, heaving slightly with the proximity of the man. his gaze nearly melts the tank top that stretches over your torso and a flood of excitement rushes through you, pooling in the seat of your underwear. a smirk creeps onto your face at his wandering stare - resentful, loathing, heated. 

something in you snaps, and you can't deal with it any longer; not with his proximity, leaning over your shoulder and staring you down, with half-rolled sleeves. his forearms, they’re thick- goddamn, he's so-

"-I can't tell if you're looking at me like that because you want to kill me, or you want to fuck me." you snap, breaking his spell as you snap his attention back to your own eyes with your bold choice of words. "either way, it'll have to wait. I got shit to do, Mr. Miller, and for some reason, you're still in my house giving me fuck-me-eyes." 

"-you better watch your mouth." he snarls, chest heaving as he leans forward menacingly, his jaw clenched. 

you let yourself smile up at him, "or what, Mr. Miller?" you ask kindly, voice dripping with perfidious innocence. 

he sneers, eyes raking over your form, jaw ticking. your body flushes with warmth under his scrutinous gaze; one of your bare legs slides up to rest on the chair next to you, on full display snd illuminated in the light of the kitchen as you smirk at him. his dark chocolate gaze slides over the skin revealed; your skin tingles in excitement under his watch. it makes you chuckle. 

"what, you don't like the way I speak?" you hiss, glaring at him. "chastising me for shit that you do, too?" you mutter snidely, pulling your leg back down as his eyes glare into yours. "I'm an adult, you can't tell me what to say. fucking hypocrite."

your hand presses into his chest, standing to your full height. his chest is firm, hot, but he lets you do it easily, moving back out of your space; giving you an out, offering you a chance to say this-isn't-what-I-want. but you won't take it. no, instead you slide up closer to him, until you're too close. 

"why so quiet now, Mr. Miller?" you almost purr, your hand still toying with your switchblade, the glint of it reflecting in his eyes. slowly, you lift the blade to trace it gently, softly over his jawline, as you’d do with your fingers. he watches you like a damn hawk, breathing heavy. 

the scratch of it against the facial hair is enough for him to snap; suddenly snatching the blade from between your fingers in one quick motion. 

“you’re testin’ my patience.” he growls, shaking his head as he holds the handle of the knife in an iron-like grip. you shake your head, “yeah, well, you’ve taken all mine.” you counter. “so…” you start, raising a brow at the knife in his hands, the way your legs are turning to putty, “you going to kill me, Mr. Miller? or fuck me?” you whisper it into his ear, up on the tips of your toes as the peppering-gray curls at the base of his ear tickle your lips.

a sharp exhale - almost a surrender. then, a rough hand pushes you down against the table, hard. your body is pliant, willing, excited as his force brings you to thud against the wood, his hand flying down quick just to your right in a loud thud.

your head snaps to your right, eyes wide and jaw open; your switchblade pins your own flannel to the table, stabbed down and holding the material and your arm in place. christ, it barely missed nicking your skin.

“depends on if you can learn some goddamn manners.” he growls, leaning over you, his hips slotting between your thighs.

maybe it’s the look on his face, or just how damn long it’s been since you had someone, or just because it’s Joel – but your facade falls so quick and you’re soon keening up towards him, arching your back so your chest sticks out.

“I’m a fast learner.” you promise; at that, he merely hums, his hips grinding slow over yours. you let your eyes squeeze shut, groaning lightly at the bliss of his rough denim sliding against your shorts-clad cunt, throbbing with desire.

you’re breathless; shivers cascade down your spine at the press of his hips against yours, licking your lips to wet them; “fuck, Joel-“ your breath is strangled, “please. I can be good for you.” you try to convince him, blinking your eyes up at him. his smirk is downright evil as his hands fall to your top, skating over the tops of your breasts before one hand grips your jaw in his large palm, squeezing hard onto your cheeks and forcing you to stare into his eyes.

his grip is unforgiving. “y’think you can jus’ bat those pretty eyes at me?” he sneers, his breath hot and fanning over your face. you’re overheating- god, it’s so fucking hot in your house; your hand raises to grip his forearm, swallowing your pride for the sake for finally getting to feel him inside you, “’m sorry, Joel.” you mutter, cheeks squished by his hand.

his brow furrows, shaking his head. a chastising tutting noise escapes his throat as he rolls his hips, grinding sloooow and smooth against your dripping cunt, aching with desire.

“no, you’re fucking not.” he spits, pushing you harder against the table. your throat is dry, a whimper of desire escaping your throat. his lips brush the shell of your ear as he leans more of his weight on you, your legs wrapping around his hips and your own surging up, up in search for some friction, “say it. say you’re not sorry. you like it, I can tell.”

shivers spill down your spine as you bite back a moan, cheeks alight with heat at his teasing. Your eyes lull over towards the blade that holds down your shoulder, pinning you against the table. a hot rush of arousal floods your underwear as you swallow, eyes rising to meet his in a lidded gaze. 

“I like it,” you admit in a shameful gasp, hand sliding up to explore his chest, “I’m- I’m not sorry. I like it, ‘m not sorry.” you mutter, voice desperate, pathetic; you’re swallowing a whimper as he grinds slowly against you again, his hardened cock straining against his jeans.

 his hand snaps to pin yours down to the edge of the table; your eyes snap up to his, meeting the swirling lust within his deep eyes, searching your face with a dangerous smirk. “you aren’t sorry?” he asks, voice dripping with condescending cockiness.

you shake your head no desperately, searching his eyes to see if he’s pleased.

he smirks at your desperation. "you will be, darlin’." he mutters, his own eyes exploring your chest as it heaves, breasts barely spilling out the top of your tank top’s hem. you smile up at him despite your desperation; hunger curls in your chest as you move your hips up against him and his face falters, a groan escaping his throat. his eyes swirl with the dark shine of a man who is nothing less than dangerous. 

the hand that isn’t pinned by the blade creeps up his arm, brushing the thick cords of muscle that rope his bicep and shoulders; soon, though, one of his hands is gripping your wrist and slamming it down against the edge of the table.

you gasp from the roughness, biting your lip as your fingers curls around the edge and hold tight under his grip.

“don’t move your hands,” he mutters as his lips dip low to trace over the seam of your top, breath brushing over the soft skin of your breasts. “or I’ll leave you here, pinned to this table.”

arousal floods you at his words and you nod silently, swallowing as his teeth bite roughly at your pressure point. “d’you hear me, girl?” he grunts, his hands moving to pull out one of your breasts from your top, your peaked nipple instantly tugged between his prying fingers.

you let out a yelp at the sensation and he huffs against your skin, biting again. “fuck,” you whimper loudly, bucking your hips as your hands grip tight against the edge of the table; one arm is pinned with the knife anyways, but your heart thunders as his tongue peaks out, brushing hot against your sweat-sheened skin.

A hand snakes to your throat and you can’t stop the moan you let out, air sucking through your windpipe at the light grip he keeps; you’re obsessed with how all-consuming he is.

Joel’s everywhere – his smell, his eyes, his hands, tongue – you want him to be inside you, you want him to be in you forever, ever, ever.

fuck Joel Miller. fuck him, and fuck him.

“I asked you something. answer me.” he squeezes your throat as he emphasizes, as he demands you; you buck up against him, convinced you’re soaking through your goddamn shorts, leaving disgusting proof of your sick, twisted arousal as you move against his crotch.

his dominance causes your face to flare with heat; you weren’t expecting him to seduce you into submission - you love it. “y-yes, yes, sir. I he-heard you.” you gasp, face flushing hot as the words leave you. he smirks darkly as he pulls away from you, danger lurking in his eyes deliciously as he nods, seemingly pleased.

he nods. “good.”

his hips are gone from you in an instant and your gasp is choked – but he wastes no time in popping the button on your jeans, sliding them and your underwear off of you in one long motion.

his pupils somehow blow even wider as he stands in front of you, palming his thick cock through his jeans, watching you pant hard.

you’re exposed in front of him – your pussy is swollen with need, pulsing with desire as one of your breasts rests exposed to the air as the knife pins you down by the arm of your flannel; you’re fucking exposed and you love it. he’s intoxicating.

 “you’re soaked.” he says after a moment of silence so long that you barely register his gruff voice. you blink, bringing your eyes back up to his from where he’s begun to undo his belt.

you can’t help the light smirk as you stare up at him, “maybe I happen to like it when you’re vulgar with me.”

he glares at you but there’s a hint of something more that flashes through his eyes; adoration? no, it couldn’t be. Joel Miller can’t adore anything.

but then out of nowhere his fingers delve through your velvet, slippery folds in a fervor; your breath chokes yet again in your lungs as you tense with the sudden stimulation.

a low, guttural moan falls from your lips as the pads of his middle and ring fingers rub tight, slow circles on your clit, “bet you taste so good, don’t you?” he murmurs, his teeth finding purchase upon your neck, sucking a mark so hard you’re sure you’ll have it for weeks. christ. “y’want me to taste you, pretty girl?”

fuck. images flash through your mind of him on his knees, tongue unraveling you, drowning in you while your thighs close around those thick greying curls.

your moan falls from you fast, nodding quick, “yes, yes, please, please, use your mouth.“ your whines are downright embarrassing – you’re not a wide-eyed virgin teen, for fuck’s sake – but Joel’s stirring you just right, making you purr with pleasure.

but instead of his tongue, a harsh swat falls onto your aching cunt and your hips jolt at the stimulation, your clit throbbing and the sting making you groan his name. you can’t help the moan of disappointment.

“well, isn’t that too bad?” he snarls, his voice mean. you feel tears of frustration spring in your eyeline as you huff a sigh, his fingers slowly, torturously moving over your clit yet again. “bet you’d love if I ate your cunt. probably dream about it, don’t ya? d’you think about me when you touch yourself?”

Christ, you’d never expected Joel-don’t-fucking-talk-to-me-Miller to be so fucking dirty; but you learned your lesson last time, so you nod quick, eyes lidded through the euphoric, teasing pleasure from the pads of his fingers.

“all-all the time, J-Joel, fuck, think about you all the time.”

and it’s true.

“that’s right. my slut, thinkin’ about me.” he spits, mouth peppering bites over your throat. “gonna have to make y’cum fast, baby. Maria’s probably waiting for us t’turn in the logs.”

the possession in his voice brings you even further towards the edge, catapulting you, sending you frustratingly close as your body tenses, puckering hole clenching around nothing as he slowly works you.

you nod your head, unable to open your eyes as your legs close around Joel’s fingers; in anger, his hand tears your thighs apart, swatting the soft skin of your thighs in punishment. you yelp at the sting, biting your lip as a new gush of arousal leaks from your neglected hole and drips down onto the table.

fueled by frustration and adrenaline and some desperate fire of attraction that’s been burning between you since he first showed up in Jackson, you nearly scream, “please, fuck me now, Joel, please I’ll do anything-“

his hand leaves his ministrations quick, his glare sharp as his fingers glisten with your desperate arousal; they’re soaked. you feel yourself flush in embarrassment until he smirks darkly, tugging himself out of the confines of his jeans. “there, see? learnin’ some manners.”

his cock is heavy and thick as it slides through your wet, slick folds. your breath, panting out and puffing as you watch in awe. his: stuttering as the tip of his dick notches at your clenching hole, teasing.

“Jesus, you’re trying t-to swallow me, darlin’.” His hand reaches out, grabbing a palm full of your tit as he rocks his hips, once again nudging your leaking hole.

your whole body shivers in anticipation; you will your eyes to not reveal how fucking turned on you are about his size - you’re more wet than you’ve ever been in your life and his cock is - well, it’s thick, long, bigger than you’d like to admit. 

“greedy fuckin’ pussy.” he grunts to himself as you hold yourself as still as possibly, one tear escaping as you your eyes clench shut in desire.

“’m ready, Joel.” you whimper, eyes opening to find his hot gaze already searing through you; he just smirks, nodding slightly. “yeah, bet you are, pretty girl.”

he can’t thrust all the way into you, not fully- his cock is too thick, your cunt slick with arousal but still so goddamn tight. the rumbling moan he lets out as he inches in slowly is fucking heavenly.

a strangled gasp leaves your lips when he starts to slide into you, inch-by-inch, stretching you open and filling you full of him. your fingers twitch at your sides as you yearn to card your fingers through his thick curls; his head falls heavy against your chest as he mutters, “s’tight, baby, fu-fuckin’ tight.”

“so much,” you whimper, fingers tight and shaking as you restrain from grabbing his arms to stabilize himself, “‘s too much.” you mumble, tears stinging. he hums, the ghost of a kiss over your cheek before he’s in your ear, whispering, “am I too big for you, baby? gonna hav’ta work you open on my fingers first next time, yeah?”

his dark grin grows as you nod your head dumbly, “fuck- yeah, yes.” you agree, nodding,

his voice is starting to slur, accent getting thicker as he soon splits you fully, speared and sheathed deep, deep into you. you’re fluttering around him as you accommodate to his size, the feeling of him nearly breaking you open as he starts to shallowly thrust.

you let out a loud moan, his thickness stretching you and sliding deeper than expected, kissing against a spot that has you keening. your toes curl and your head falls back as he pulls out, thrusting back into you slow, grinding, deep.

all you can say is his name; it falls from your lips like it’s the only word you know, his hips soon pistoning into you with fervor, chasing the feeling coiling in your abdomen. 

his hands roam. 

they explore every part of you they can reach, his teeth marking every inch of your throat and painting you into a beautiful piece of art. for him. 

the noise of your pussy swallowing his girth in is downright filthy as it echoes through your kitchen; your head lulls to the side as you let out a languid moan, the spot he's hitting making your eyes roll back. you can feel stray tears leak down your cheeks, hot and heavy as you whimper in desire; you're so goddamn close, already, you know he can feel it. 

“y’gonna-“ he grunts, eyes screwed shut in pleasure as yours leak down your cheeks, body shaking with desire, “-gonna take my cock and say thank you, ‘s that right?”

a shaking rush of arousal just slickens you even more; the sounds of his body rocking into yours wet and loud in the room as you nod frantically, the pleasure coiling dangerously fast. 

but it seems you weren’t quick enough with your response: Joel’s hips slow, then stop completely. 

you’re left gasping, eyes wide as you stare up at him in shock: “wh-why?” you whimper, his pulsing length half out of you, teasing you. 

Joel’s eyes meet your own and he sternly swats your tits, eyes watching as the breast exposed to the air moves in recoil. 

“do you want to cum?” he asks, as if he’s asking what 2 + 2 is. your face fucking burns as you nod, “yes-“ 

but he grunts, hips too agonizingly still as he leans forward, “then take my cock, fuck yourself on it. and use your fuckin’ manners.”

you blink at him, spurring into action only after a very brief short-circuited moment. your hips stutter and shake at the angle, unable to move in a way that stimulates yourself enough to bring you back to the edge.

you shutter, muttering, “th-thank- thank you,” but you can’t do it. you glare at him as you move your hips, hands shaking, muscles straining, but you can tell he’s not pleased: brows drawn, a swat to your exposed breast that stings and spurs your hips quicker.

“come on, this is pathetic.” he snarls, fingers gently pinching your clit. the yelp you let out is dry, starved. “why so quiet now, darlin’?” he throws your own words back at you deliciously. 

he stands stationary, eyes judging you, focused on where your cunt tries to swallow his cock, your movements choppy and weak. tears spring in your eyes; he feels so good, but you just can’t get it right. 

“please.” you nearly whisper it, but it’s exactly what he was looking for. he rocks his hips shallowly, your body rocking gently with the slow, deep force of him splitting you open. 

“please, what?” he whispers into your ear, teeth scraping your jaw. resentment and arousal flows through your veins as you let out a strangles, “please, s-sir-“ 

with the words, Joel’s hips cant up into you, the slight angle making your legs coil and your throat burn. 

“please fuck me, y’feel- I can’t do it, need- you feel so good, fuck me hard, please, I want it.” you let go, begging and desperate to give you what you crave. 

his hips pick up a brutal pace. your back is pounded into the wood below you, the cool blade of the knife cold against your flannel as one of his large hands moves you until your legs are thrown up, over his shoulders.

the stretch is unimaginable and he doesn’t give you any time to adjust; his hips are unforgiving, fucking you open and letting your juices of arousal spill over the skin of your thighs and onto the table. 

“such a foul fuckin’ mouth on you.” he spits, one hand gripping your jaw until it opens for him, your mind clouded with the chase of your highs. 

he spits into your mouth, saliva warm and intoxicating as you swallow it happily, nodding in a daze. “gonna fuck you stupid, aren’t I? you won’t think about anything but me for weeks.” 

he’s right, and he fucking knows it. 

you nod at him, unable to form full words as he hits the spongy, delicious spot inside you that nearly makes you pass out. your hands fucking ache from the grip on the table, but you hope he’s pleased that they haven’t moved a damn inch this whole time; even as he splits you wide open and takes you apart. 

you’re so close you might actually start to sob as the crest of your orgasm tingles your thighs, your toes curling and legs shaking. 

he's close, too. his thrusts are getting slower, sloppier. 

“whose pussy is this?” Joel grunts, his movements soon desperate and deep; his tip kisses your cervix and your body jolts up the table with each movement of his pubic bone against yours.

the pain is fucking euphoric, delicious as you grip the edge of the table so hard you’re unsure they’ll ever relax. his finger pinches your nipple and you yelp, sweat sticking to your forehead, “-y-yours, fuck, Joel- yours, a-always.” you whimper, breathless.

you feel his smile grow against your neck and the butterflies that grow in your chest seem out of place with the bruises that will soon blossom on your skin from his teeth, his fingers.

you smile, too.

"god, you're perfect- f-feel fuckin' perfect around me, baby. need you to cum." as his sentence ends, his head jerks up, one hand rising to grip your jaw tight. your eyes snap to his and the anger boils, festering with the desire and lust within his eyes, "know y'can't help it, can you?" 

you shake your head fiercely as your orgasm nears. he hums deep, a rumble from his chest, “what do you say if you want me to let you cum?” 

fuck. fuckfuckfuck you’re too close- your muddled mind spits a barely cohesive babble of pleads, “please, p-pleaseplease I-I’m sorry I’m sorry-“ 

“you’re sorry?” he presses, hips not giving up; your whole body burns as you wait for your orgasm, knowing in any second it’ll be ruined. “look at those pretty eyes. did y’learn your manners? y’gonna say thank you?” 

you let out a sob of pleasure, his thrusts so deep you can feel them in your throat. “yes, Joel- please- let me cum, please-“ 

his hand slides to your throat. “cum now.” 

you swallow around his grip and let out a near scream of his name as his other hand snakes between you; a finger brushes against your abused clit, the combined stimulation pushing you over the edge. 

you see colors. 

your orgasm explodes as you gush around him, pulsing, begging, unraveling around his touch. your voice is broken, mutters and whimpers of his name followed by thank you, thank you drifting through the room.

your thighs are soaked with your own spend and he feels you grip him like a vice; he can't help but kiss the tears from your cheeks as he milks you through your orgasm, muttering soft grunts in your ear. 

"that's it, baby. there y'go, cum on my dick when i fuckin' tell you to." he kisses the column of your throat as his thrusts slow to deep, long thrusts. "atta girl." 

you scream at his words and the overstimulation. he shushes you, thrusts slow. "'m gonna cum." he sounds almost desperate, his body so close to yours it's almost like he's trying to smother you.

he groans your name in a broken sound; his grip tugging your hair. he moves back, frantic to pull out and ride his high- but you panic. 

"w-wait!" you rush, hands springing without thinking to push his hips hard against yours. you can't bear to imagine him pulling out of you so soon - you need to feel him, be full of him. "cum in me, Joel- I need it, j-just- fuck!" 

his hand slams over your mouth, effectively silencing you with a loud grunt of his own, "shut the fuck up," he growls, sounding too close. “jesus, girl- gonna wake up the whole n-neighborhood-“ but even his shamefully dirty mouth falters when he chases his orgasm.

soon he thrusts shallowly into your pulsing cunt before he's moaning, spurting his seed into you. 

hot, thick ropes of cum paint your walls as you flutter, whimpering as you breathe heavy, hands skittering up his back despite his earlier orders. 

his lips brush over your skin as he lies on you, heavy; "jesus christ." is all he mutters, pulling out of you with a slick sound and tucking himself into his jeans. 

you can only stare at the ceiling, the light above the table you’re laid upon swinging with the residual force of your bodies colliding.

a hand falls in a sharp thud to your right, pulling hard to dislodge the knife from its home against you; the notch it leaves reveals the patrol log; speared in the middle with the evidence of you and Joel's digressions. 

oops.

you're wrecked. you're a trembling frame of a structure after the hurricane of Joel Miller took threw you, stripping you to your bare bones. a ghost of lips over the inside skin of your knees as they fall, weak, off of his shoulders. and then he stares at you as you shakily sit up, setting your clothes right, swallowing on a raw throat. 

“‘m sorry about the flannel.” he gestures to the rip in your arm where the knife had pinned you down and something about it makes you chuckle, smoothing down your hair. “are you- are you okay?” he asks suddenly, hard eyes looking almost soft under the glow of the lamplight.

he hands you your underwear and jeans and helps you slide back into them in a surprisingly sweet turn of events.

“more than okay, christ. if you make me cum like that again you can do anything you want to my clothes.” you wink with a deep breath, smiling gently at him when he helps you stand back up on shaky legs. he actually sends you a half-smirk at that, and it flutters along your chest. 

the nighttime air is not so suffocating as you and Joel make your way towards Maria, his hand grazing over the small of your back as you walk on Jell-o legs, faces flushed and sweat slicking to your skin.

it’s awkward.

“I-” he starts, swallowing air as you stare up at him. sweat trickles from his brow and you itch to trace it with your tongue. 

“I actually think you’re not too bad,” he finishes, turning to walk up the steps to Tommy and Maria’s. you blink, heat fluttering in your chest as he admits, but soon whirls around to ensure you hear him, “for Ellie. just- don’t do that shit around her, right?” he clarifies.

you grin at his reddened cheeks as he tucks the log into the box set near the door, filing it under the western outpost for the date. 

“yes, Mr. Miller.” you mock-salute him, smirking to yourself as his flush deepens, the scowl ever-present on his face softening slightly at your smile. 

“christ.” he shakes his head, “you’re gonna get me into a lot of trouble.” you don’t miss the smile that creeps on his face as he starts to walk you back home. 

--

read part 2

requests open

--

[archiveikemen]

"Come Play With Us, Miss Fairytale Keeper" Story Event: Chapter 1

Alfons Sylvatica VS Ring Schwartz

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

One afternoon, Alfons and I were being briefed on our next mission. 

Victor: That’s the general outline of it. Additionally, I have a favour to ask of you two… 

Darius’ Voice: It’s me. May I come in? 

Victor: You may. 

Upon being granted permission, Darius entered the room with Nica and Ring. 

Victor: You came at the perfect time, I was going to talk about you.

Darius: I saw Miss Fairytale Keeper enter the room with Alfons earlier, so I figured as much. 

(Does Victor’s favour have something to do with the members of Vogel…?) 

Victor: Actually, I was asked if one of the Vogel members could accompany you on a mission. 

Victor: I’m thinking that it’d be a good idea for this mission. What are your thoughts, Alfons and Kate? 

(This mission is to find out the time and place of a transaction involving “illegal drugs”.) 

(We’re only going to eavesdrop on the target’s conversation, so it shouldn't be a problem to have more people with us.) 

Kate: I think it's fine with me. 

Alfons: I don't mind as long as I get to choose who comes with us.

Darius: Fufu, who will you choose?

Ring: I’ll cut every single member down if anything happens to Dari or Nica. 

Alfons: Ooh, how scary! But there’s no need to worry.

Alfons: The one I choose is you, Ring. 

Ring: … Me?

Surprised to hear that he was chosen, Ring cast a glance at Darius.

Darius: Isn’t that great? I think you can learn various things from this. 

Darius: So… Pass auf dich auf / Have a nice one. 

Ring: … Alles klar / Understood. 

And so, the first mission with Alfons, Ring, and I began.

…

The day of the mission. Ring stared wide-eyed at me when he boarded the carriage. 

Ring: W-what’s with that outfit… 

Kate: I put it on for the mission. … Do I look weird? 

Ring: … I was just a little surprised because you look different from usual. 

As Ring gave a blunt response, Alfons put an arm over my shoulder. 

Alfons: It suits Miss Robin, doesn’t it? I picked out this dress for her. 

Alfons: She looks so lovely it makes you feel like you want to pin her down and get dirty with her, doesn't she? I understand that feeling.

Ring: Wha…! I- I never said anything like that…

Alfons: My, are you secretly thinking about it then? What a pervert. 

Ring: I would never! … You’re exactly as the rumours say you are. “A walking offence to public morals”! 

Alfons: I don’t deny that, but isn’t your reaction too exaggerated, Ring? You sound like a virgin.

Alfons: I wonder if you can handle this mission when you’re so innocent… I’m worried. 

Alfons: Since you’re not used to women, perhaps we should have someone else replace you— 

Ring: W-wait… I have plenty of experience with that, so I don't have any problems completing the mission. 

Alfons: Is that so? That’s a relief then. Isn’t it, Miss Robin?

Kate: Y-yes… 

Alfons continued talking to Ring amusedly, his facial expression looking as though he had found a new toy. 

On the other hand, Ring looked uncomfortable and was clearly not liking Alfons’ teasing. 

(... I hope we complete the mission without any problems…) 

…

The carriage sped through the streets and arrived at a large mansion in the suburbs. 

Alfons: Allow me to explain about this mansion which is the location for our mission. 

Alfons: This mansion is a meeting place for people who indulge in illicit love affairs. 

Alfons: All forms of love are accepted here… regardless of social status, gender, or marital status.

Alfons: Therefore, all conversations between the pairs that take place in this mansion are kept strictly confidential. 

Ring: That makes it the perfect place for criminals to meet in secret. 

Alfons: Exactly. Moreover, participants can choose to get a key to a private room to enjoy some alone time together as a pair.

Alfons’ explanation reminded me of what happened when we first arrived at the mansion.

= Flashback Start = 

Butler: Please hold, dear guests. The rooms can only be used by two people. Three is… 

Alfons: No need to worry. We don't intend to have a threesome.

Alfons: He and I are competing for this lady’s love. Isn’t that right, Ring? 

Ring: Huh!? Y-yeah��� that’s right.

Despite not fully understanding the situation, Ring seemed to be going along with Alfons’ story.

Alfons: She will choose between Ring and I later on.

Alfons: It won’t be a problem if we only obtain the room key after that, right?

= Flashback End = 

Kate: We have to choose the room next to our target’s in order to eavesdrop on their meeting… 

Kate: That’s why you made it seem as though two of you are competing for me, then we’ll find out which room our target is in and get our key. 

Alfons: Your quick understanding is very helpful. 

Ring: … I wasn’t told about this mansion prior to starting the mission.

Kate: It was my first time hearing about it too. 

Alfons: Ah, I withheld that piece of information on purpose. 

Kate: What.

Ring: Withholding information… is this Crown’s way of doing things? Or were you trying to trap me…? 

Ring: Whichever it is, I guess I don’t have the right to complain if you were to kill me right here and now. 

Kate: P-please calm down, Ring! I’m sure he had his reasons for doing that. … Right, Alfons!? 

Alfons: Why did I withhold information, you ask…? It was for Ring’s sake.

Ring: For my sake? 

Ring looked at Alfons suspiciously. 

He was definitely feeling the same way I was — “this man can’t be trusted”. 

Alfons: I figured that you’d get nervous if you knew we’d be pretending to compete over a woman… so I chose not to tell you until the last minute. 

Alfons: But you said you’re very experienced, right? My worries were unfounded then. 

Rint: R-right. No need to worry about me.

Kate: What about me? Why didn't you tell me?

Alfons: Because you’ll feel bad if Ring was the only one kept in the dark. 

(I can’t deny that…) 

Alfons: Well then. We’ll have to find out which room our target chose—

Alfons: And Kate will have to choose one person between Ring and myself to be her lover.

Alfons: If this goes as I expected, I’m the one you’ll choose, right? I’ll make you feel good today too, as always. 

Ring: … I won't let that happen.

Ring: As a member of Vogel, I can’t afford to make a fool of myself here.

Ring: I’m the one Kate will choose.

Tension sparked between Ring and Alfons. 

(What’s going to happen with this mission…?)

[fastboatsmojito]

just saw ur scott reblog gRAAAHH WOOF WOOF anyway !!! and it inspired me to request something <3 (love ur writing btw) pls write something with scott and how big he is 😣 a lil suggestive if u know what i mean 🙈

OHH YOU GET IT SO HARD + thank you so much !! 🫶🏼🫶🏼 whenever someone says they like my writing i get so giddy, it’s just the sweetest 😞

Anyways!!! Absolutely, thank you for fueling my obsession with this large man 💓

Just some scattered Scott x reader thoughts really

|CW; somewhat suggestive, he calls you girl once ☝🏼 incredibly obvious size kink from both parties whoops, he’s pretty canon-accurately an asshole, + suggested dom/sub relationship stuff??? Kinda??? Like not really but a little bit??? idk how else to tag that lmao. Obviously there’s a size difference here but it’s not specific, you could really just be shorter than him and it’d work just the same mwah <33

The first time you really notice is a total accident, you got caught up in the sight of the storm in front of you, not even given time to react to his stern “get in.” before he’s picking you up and putting you back in the car.

“What the hell was that?” He snapped, figuratively and literally as you blankly stare at him, still focused on how effortlessly he carried you back to the car.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know, it was just so close-“

“Yeah, no shit it was close. You could’ve gotten yourself killed. You have to pay more attention than that.”

You just nodded, staring at the way his hands flexed as he drove away, suddenly aware of the drastic contrast between the two of you. He picked you up like it was nothing, which was nothing considering the size of him, you just hadn’t thought about it in that way before.

——

He doesn’t think anything of it for a while, chalking your lingering glances up to his over-analytical mind, until you unintentionally piss him off with it.

“Is this going to be a problem for you?” He was right in your face, arms crossed over his chest as he bitterly chewed his gum, working himself up even more when you couldn’t give him a direct answer.

“If you can’t do your job ‘cause you’re too busy staring at me or whatever the fuck, I’ll have to move you to Javi’s team. Got it?” He barked, shaking his head as he stormed off.

As soon as he realizes why you’ve been staring at him, it’s over.

You were at the diner with the rest of the team, smiling as you walked to the table, bumping into some hard, tall, figure in front of you on the way.

He turned to steady you, big hands landing on your waist. “You ever try paying attention to what you’re doing? It’s pretty helpful.” He was a dick, sure. But you still found yourself focusing more on the feeling of his hands and the way your face warmed up at his assertive tone.

“You ever try not being an asshole?” You rolled your eyes at him before you walked away, but he didn’t miss the pause, or the way your breath picked up at his words. He put it together then, having been so caught up in work he didn’t realize just how tolerable you were getting, his hands constantly drifting towards you absentmindedly whenever you were close enough.

——

He usually went to work to get his job done and go home which was made clear, but after a while he got carried away. Comfortable enough being around you to end up reluctantly carrying you out of the car one night.

He tried to wake you up, met with sleepy grunts and you repositioning yourself before falling back to sleep.

He wanted to just leave you in the car, give you a blanket or ‘whatever’ but it was too cold, and you were in some small town he didn’t know well enough. He rolled his eyes as he took you out, large, rough hands a nice juxtaposition to the way he gently lifted you up.

He had to bring you to his room, not sure of where your room key was and not interested in dealing with your mood if he woke you back up.

He laid you down on the bed, throwing the blanket over you before taking off his work shirt and getting ready to begrudgingly sleep on the couch in his own room.

He went to turn off the lights, groaning when he saw you sit up, whining and stretching your arms.

“You know your necks gonna hurt if you sleep on that couch, Scotty. C’mere.” You sleepily muttered, patting the bed next to you.

He knew it was a bad idea, not missing the new nickname as he put his face in his hands, too exhausted to argue and too self-aware to disregard the attitude he’d have if he woke up to you in his bed and a sore neck.

“Jesus Christ. Alright, fine. One time. Don’t make it weird.” He gruffed as he turned the light off before slipping into bed next to you.

You were facing him as he faced the ceiling, his arms crossed firmly along his chest like some grumpy old man, still awake and motionless when you cuddled into him in your sleep.

——

After that he’s basically torturing you until you say it out loud. Putting his hands on your waist all casual to move past you, refusing to acknowledge any of it first.

Both of his hands were on your shoulders as he crouched down to be eye level with you, losing his patience after he caught you staring at his arms when he was trying to talk to you.

“If you want something, you’ll have to use your words like a big girl and ask for it. All this pouty, wordless shit won’t work with me. I need you to listen to me when I talk to you.” He spat condescendingly, minty gum popping in your ears. He grabbed your chin between his thumb and pointer when you shook your head.

“No? I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me what you want. I’m not about to guess.” You squeezed your eyes shut to get away from his intense stare.

“I don’t want to say it here.” You barely whispered, opening your eyes when he sighed.

“Damn it.” He breathed before pausing, standing up tall and scanning over the parking lot you were in.

“Alright, come on.” He said bluntly before grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Scott-“ You pouted as he swept you back to his motel room.

“Just shut up and let me help you out for once, yeah?”

-

I need him so bad

[kokiriri]

I just realized today that I have surpassed 100 followers here and thought it’d be nice to post a thank you!

You guys make my day with the comments and hashtags you leave when you reblog my stuff, y'all are too sweet that it feels wrong to not say anything. (Pls like lemme treat y’all to bagels or something😨🙏)

Thank you for all the kind words and support, it means a lot and makes me all the more excited to draw and post my art here

ALSO asks are open for ideas or general questions, just whatever so long as it's appropriate/SFW, y'know the drill :) (and sorry for another 2023 drawing haha! I’m still getting used to my new schedule, but I’ll be posting new art in the near future so bear with me😵‍💫)

[krirebr]

More Than This 4

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~6.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, Linda being Linda, a panic attack, p in v sex, sex in maybe not the best mindset, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: I thought this was gonna be a short one. 😂

Gigantic thanks as always to @paperweight91 who helped me figure out what the problem was when I was really struggling to feel inspired on this one, and then later on when the narrative took a bit of a turn that I wasn't expecting, she helped me navigate it and come out the other side. Chelsea, you continue to be the very best!

And an additional hat tip to @thezombieprostitute, who left a comment on the last part that inspired part of Linda's visit here. Thanks, dear!!

Unsurprisingly probably, this is another sad one. But I hope it'll be worth it!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You’ve reached the phone of Steve Rogers. Please leave a message after the beep.

“Hey, Steve. It’s me. Again. Your sister. Um, shit. Yeah, you’re at work now, aren’t you? Sorry, I still haven’t gotten used to the time difference. I got your texts, and, uh, everything is fine. I’m– I’m doing good. But I miss you. And it’d be nice to hear your voice. But I’m fine, I’m good, I promise. I just– I’ll try again soon. Love you. Ok. Bye.”

You hung up and sighed, setting your phone down beside you. You hadn’t actually spoken to Steve since you’d gotten on the plane a week ago. Which was fine. You were doing fine. He’d texted you. And he was busy. You knew he was. It’d be easier, you thought if you were too. But everything had been unpacked. The housekeeper took care of all the upkeep of the house and you got the distinct impression that she didn’t much care for your “help,” so now when she was here you mostly tried to stay out of her way. Even Lola was getting tired of going for walks around the neighborhood.

You’d barely seen your husband since your disastrous attempt at sex. He’d been avoiding you, leaving early in the morning and coming home late at night. You hadn’t talked about what happened. You’d barely talked about anything.  

You looked at your laptop on the coffee table and exited out of the WebMD entry on erectile dysfunction. That wasn’t helping. With nothing to do and no one to talk to, all you could do was think about what would happen to you if you couldn’t get Ransom to fuck you. If you didn’t get pregnant. You still hadn’t seen the contract and weren’t sure what the actual terms were, but you knew the consequences would be nothing good. 

Steve had had an aunt on his mother’s side who’d been found in breach of contract and had her marriage dissolved. You never really knew her, but you remembered how Joseph talked about her, about the desperate arrangement she’d eventually had to settle for, the sadness in Steve’s eyes whenever she came up. That wouldn’t be you, couldn’t be you. You knew you wouldn’t even start to feel secure in your arrangement until that part of the contract had been fulfilled. You just needed to figure out how.

But, dwelling on it wasn’t helping. Googling possible causes of Ransom’s issue wasn’t helping (although it was better than listening to the voice in your head that wouldn’t stop telling you that he just didn’t want to touch you). You needed something to do. Back in LA, you’d worked part-time at an art gallery Steve had introduced you to. You’d mostly answered the phones and greeted people as they came in, but you’d liked it. There had to be something like that available in Boston. And at least trying to find it would give you something to focus on.

So you lost yourself in compiling a list of galleries you could try to contact, sitting on the couch with Lola curled up beside you. When Ransom came home late that night, that’s how he found you. You looked up, startled when he came in the door, and found a similar expression on his face. 

“Oh,” he said. “You’re still up,” as he took off his coat and shoes.

“Yeah,” you said, not knowing what else to say.

He nodded and came as far as the beginning of the living area, then stopped and just stared at you for a moment. You waited for whatever it was he was going to say. Then, finally, “How was your day?”

“It was fine,” then, gathering your courage and hoping you wouldn’t be shut down, you added, “I started to look for a job.”

“Oh,” he looked mildly surprised. “Do you have any experience?”

You pushed down the tinge of hurt that bubbled up at that. The question wasn’t completely uncalled for. Many of your friends back home had never worked a day in their lives. But you couldn’t help feeling a little defensive when you answered, “Yes, I worked at the front desk of an art gallery back home. I liked it. I’d like to find something like that here.”

Ransom hummed thoughtfully as he nodded. “Well,” he said, looking off into the corner of the room, “uh, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help with that.”

“Oh,” you said, too surprised to say anything else for a moment. You’d been sure he’d say no. You weren’t quite sure what to do with an offer of help, of all things. And you would need his help if you got the job, with a way to get yourself there at the very least. But you didn’t want to jinx it or push things too far right now, so you just said, “Thank you. I will.” And then, “Uh, how was your day?”

“It was fine,” he said, stiffly. “Busy, I’ve been really busy. And I’m, uh, I’m exhausted now. So I’m going to go straight to bed. Feel free to stay up as late as you want. Obviously.” And just like that, he turned on his heel and left the room. 

You should’ve gone after him, maybe. Made him talk to you about it. Or just taken your clothes off while he was talking (although that hadn’t worked the first time). Something. But you were tired too and you just didn’t have it in you, as important as you knew it was. 

So, you gave it about half an hour before you went to bed yourself, going through your nighttime routine as quietly as you could in the ensuite. When you went back out to the bedroom, you found Lola already on the bed, curled up against Ransom’s side. You stopped, wondering if you should move her. She’d slept in the bed with you for the last four nights, ever since that awful night, and Ransom hadn’t said anything about making her stop. And he obviously hadn’t noticed her snuggling up next to him, so maybe it was fine. You climbed in next to her and wrapped your body around hers, ignoring the way it made you brush up against Ransom, too.

The next afternoon, you were busying yourself with trying to reorganize your walk-in closet, when you heard someone moving around downstairs. It wasn’t one of the housekeeper’s days, so you made sure you had your phone on you and started down the stairs with caution. 

When you got about halfway down, you saw Linda standing in the middle of the living room. “Linda!” you exclaimed, unable to hide your shock at her standing before you. “Ransom didn’t tell me you’d be stopping by. I didn’t know you had a key.”

“Of course, I do, I’m his mother. And I’m the one who set him up with this house.” She cast a judgemental eye on the room. “I see you’ve been moving some things around.”

“Oh,” you said, now at the bottom of the stairs and looking around a little worriedly. You’d tried so hard to disrupt as little as possible. “Not much, I don’t think. Just a little to make room for my own things.”

Linda hummed in a way that made you want to shrink inside yourself. “Well,” she said and held out a gift bag. “I brought you a little something.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, forcing a smile as you took the gift, slightly afraid of what might be in it. You glanced inside, moving aside the tissue paper to find about a dozen pregnancy tests. “Oh,” you said, afraid if you said anything more you might burst into tears. It was fine it was fine it was fine.

“Just want you to be prepared,” she said.

“Thank you,” you forced out. “You really shouldn’t have.” 

“Well,” she clapped her hands together, “why don’t you get us some coffee?”

You forced another smile, trying to cover the panic you felt that she was staying. “Yes, of course.” You took your time getting the coffee prepared in the kitchen. Once it was ready, and you had the cream and sugar and everything else gathered on a tray, you couldn’t delay it any longer and brought everything out to the living room. Linda helped herself to a mug, finishing it to her liking as you did the same. You caught, though, the little face she made at her first sip. That was fine, it was her son’s fucking coffee.

“This is nice,” she said, in that particular syrupy tone of voice she had that meant she was trying too hard to seem friendly. “Just the two of us. Overdue.”

You made yourself nod. “Yes,” you said, “It’s great to see you.”

“I was talking to Ransom this morning, and he mentioned that you’re looking for a job?”

“Oh,” you started, something about her tone making you cautious, “yeah, you know, something to keep me occupied. I used to work at an art gallery and I’m hoping I can do something similar here.”

She took a sip of her coffee, then pursed her lips. “Well, that sounds lovely. But are you sure it’s a good idea with a baby on the way?”

You did your best to chuckle, trying to keep things light as you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. “I’m not pregnant yet, Linda.”

“Maybe not, but you will be soon. And do you really think it’s fair to get a job when you’re just going to have to quit in a few weeks anyway?”

You stared at her confused, your own coffee now forgotten. “We don’t know exactly when I’ll get pregnant.” You may not care for Ransom much, but you certainly weren’t going to discuss his possible impotence with his mother. Or the fact that he just didn’t want you. “And I don’t understand why I would have to quit once I got pregnant anyway.”

“Well, I’m sure Ransom won’t want you working once you’re pregnant. He’ll want you to focus on growing his child and getting everything prepared for the baby.”

You felt the air go out of your lungs. All you could do was gape at her. What? You flashed back to the wedding, to Harlan telling you how good you were going to be for Ransom. To your mother telling you to keep him happy. To Joseph’s speech barely even mentioning you. It was like you as a person didn’t exist anymore. You were just here for him. Your whole life set up just to cater to him. You felt the tears starting to gather in your eyes, but you would not cry in front of this woman. 

“But,” you started, “you worked all through your pregnancy and Ransom’s childhood, didn’t you? I don’t understand why I wouldn’t be able to, too.”

“Oh,” she said, as she gave you the most condescending look you might have ever received, “I see. You think you and I are the same. Sweetheart, no. I helped my father choose my arraignment. I came into it with my own money, having already established myself. A real career, not some silly part-time gallery job. I’m the one who supports Richard. I’ve always had the power. I was never you. And you will never be me. So, how about you let Ransom take good care of you and you focus on the things that you can give him, hmm?”

You just stared at her, feeling suddenly numb. What the fuck were you supposed to say to that? You’d only spoken to her a few times and every single time she’d made you feel so small, insignificant, weak. 

She placed her mug on the table and stood up. “I’ll get out of your hair now, dear, but this was so nice. We’ll have to do it again soon.” She stood in front of you as all you could do was sit and stare. She raised her perfectly manicured eyebrow at you and you finally realized that she wanted you to stand. You robotically did so, still so numb from this short visit. As soon as you were upright, she gave you a stiff hug and patted you on the shoulder. “I’m so glad we were able to put this silly job idea to bed,” she said. “I’ll show myself out. Have a good rest of your day, darling.” And then she was gone and you were left standing alone in the middle of Ransom’s living room.

You spent the rest of the afternoon running Linda’s visit through your mind, over and over. The thing you couldn’t understand was why, if Ransom was so against you working, he hadn’t said anything about it last night. Wouldn’t it have been easier to just tell you no right away, rather than siccing his mother on you the next day? Why would he say yes? Was it just so that he could look like the good guy before he had his mom do his dirty work for him? Was he really that much of a chickenshit? 

When you got to a point when you thought you might actually drive yourself crazy if you thought about it anymore, you got your phone out and tried, once again, to call Steve. 

You’ve reached the phone of Steve Rogers. Please leave a message after the beep.

You wanted to scream. You were so fucking tired of talking to his machine. Every time you thought you couldn’t feel more alone, you just fell deeper.

“Hey, Steve. Um, I’d really love it if you could call me back. I know you’re busy. I don’t mean to– I’m sorry. I just– I just really miss you. I’d really like to talk to you. I love you. Ok. Bye.”

You hung up and then just stared at your black phone screen for a moment. You couldn’t just sit in the house anymore. “Lola!” you called out into the house, not sure of where she’d gotten off to. “Want to go for a walk?”

Ransom didn’t come home that night, the absolute fucking coward.

When you woke up the next day, you couldn’t tell if Ransom’s side of the bed had been slept in or not. Lola was sprawled across it, taking up much more space than her tiny body would indicate. You decided not to dwell on it.

There was a text message from Steve, sent in the middle of the night.

Hey chipmunk. I’m so sorry I keep missing your calls. I’ve been absolutely slammed this week. I’ll try to call you soon. Hope you’re doing ok. I miss you so much. Love you.

You couldn’t stop staring at it. The childhood nickname combined with the distance the message represented made your whole chest ache. 

As the day wore on, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. The housekeeper didn’t want you around. All the unpacking was done. You couldn’t look for a job. You tried to read but you couldn’t focus. You called Steve but he didn’t pick up, again, and you just didn’t have it in you to leave another message.  

You felt like you sleepwalked through the whole day, so when Ransom walked in in the evening, you were startled to realize the day was gone.

Lola lept off your lap on the couch and ran to him as soon as he came in the door, hopping up and down and prancing in front of him. He froze, his scarf halfway off his neck and caught in his hands. “What is it doing?” he asked, turning to you, absolutely bewildered.

“I– I don’t know,” you said, staring at your dog. It was stupid, you knew it was so stupid, but you couldn’t help the frisson of betrayal that ran through you. She was supposed to be yours. She was supposed to love you, only you. And now she was consorting with the enemy. And you were jealous of a dog. But what else did you have? Your husband wouldn’t touch you, your brother wouldn’t call you back, and now your dog loved someone else. It all made you want to sob. “I think she’s happy to see you.”

He looked at you aghast. “Why?!”

“I don’t know,” you said again. “Lola,” you called, but she was still hopping up and down in front of Ransom. “Lola!” She turned at your stern tone and reluctantly ran back to you. You picked her up and cradled her in your arms. “Sorry,” you said to Ransom, then quietly murmured, “What were you doing?” into her fur. You glanced at the time. “You’re home early.”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, somewhat sheepish. “Finally got out of work at a decent hour.”

“Oh.” It felt so weird to have him here. “I guess we could have dinner. Have you eaten?”

“Uh, no. Dinner sounds great.” He finally came out of the entryway and began digging through his fridge, pulling out two of the pre-prepared meals his housekeeper kept there. 

As he put them in the microwave, all you could do was stare at him. You’d had the last twenty-four hours to stew in your anger and sadness and now all you really felt was tired. There was nothing you could do. It was his house, his family that held the strings. You were far from home with no one to back you up. He’d seen to it that you didn’t have a job to fall back on. All you could do was go along with what he wanted. The only thing you could do was make your place here more secure. As he bent down to get a plate out of the microwave, you blurted out, “Why won’t you fuck me?”

He straightened up quickly and stared at you. “What the fuck?!”

“I just–” you tried, “Has that happened before? Your problem. I’ve read that as men get older that happens sometimes.”

“I’m thirty-five, not fucking sixty. What the actual fuck?” He loudly dropped the plate down in front of you. “Eat your fucking food. I’m not talking about this.”

You sullenly started in on your food, it was pasta. You barely tasted it. You needed to keep talking about this, but doing it while he was angry probably wasn’t the best approach. 

He heated up the other plate and then joined you, taking a seat next to you at the island. You both ate in silence, until he finally said, “I just don’t think this is anything we need to rush into. We have plenty of time.”

You looked up at him. Of course, he wouldn’t think there was any rush. Of course, he didn’t have any personal stakes in you getting pregnant. Of course, he could forbid you from working but then deny you the one thing that would give you something to fucking do here. Something that would take a portion of your anxiety away. “We don’t actually,” you growled. “We have no idea how long it’s going to take me to get pregnant.”

“You keep saying that, but I just– I think rushing it would be a mistake. We have more time than you think and putting this off until we know each other better is a good idea.”

And suddenly, you saw red. Every single fucking thing was on his terms. His hometown, his family, his house, his things, his staff, his single car, his timetable. “And how are we supposed to do that, huh?” you yelled, standing up now. “When you’re gone before I wake up and you cross your fingers I’m in bed before you get home. If you even come home! When exactly is this getting to know each other supposed to happen?!”

“Hey!” he yelled, standing up as well. Lola ran upstairs at the sound of his stool scraping against the hardwood. “Calm the fuck down! What is the big fucking deal if we wait a few months rather than doing it right now?”

“Because the longer we wait the less time I’ll have to get pregnant! And the more likely it’ll be that it won’t happen and we’ll nullify the contract and our marriage will be dissolved. And you’ll be fucking fine! You’ll still be your grandfather’s and your mother’s heir. Nothing will happen to you. But I’ll be sent back to Joseph. I’ll have to accept a second arrangement with anyone who will take me. I’ll– I’ll–” You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe. The room was getting smaller, pressing in on you, and you couldn’t breathe. 

You sank down to the floor and suddenly Ransom was in front of you. He called your name, but it was hard to process it. He called it again and you made eye contact with him. “You’re having a panic attack. You’re ok. You’re alright. I’m here.” He was speaking so quietly, so gently. “I’m here to help you, ok? I’m going to stay with you.” You nodded as best you could. “Can I touch you?” he asked, and you immediately shook your head. “Ok,” he said quickly, “that’s fine. That’s ok. I won’t touch you. You’re breathing too fast, ok? You need to slow down. Can you breathe with me? Come on, do it with me.” And then he breathed in slowly and you tried to match his rhythm. In and out, in and out, so slowly. At some point, he started counting. In 1 2 3 4 5. Out 1 2 3 4 5. Eventually, you could do it on your own, without him coaching you. 

You spent a few more minutes on the floor with him, you both just breathing at each other. Then finally you were able to find your words. “I’m ok,” you said. “I’m alright. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” he said, still so gentle. “Nothing at all. Can you get up?” You nodded and he helped you up. “Are you hungry?” he asked and you shook your head. “Ok, I’ll clean the food up later. Can I help you upstairs?” You nodded and he, very carefully, put his hand on your back, so slowly that you had all the time in the world to pull away. His touch was warm, soft. His touch was always so soft with you.

He guided you to the bedroom where Lola was already on the bed, shaking steadily and looking at you with big, fearful eyes. You climbed on and curled up next to her. “You’re ok,” you whispered to her. “I’m sorry we scared you.” She scooted so she was snuggled up right against you and you carded your fingers through her fur, scratching gently.

Ransom hovered at the foot of the bed. “Thank you,” you said quietly.

“Of course,” he said. “Has that happened before?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t think so. How did you know how to help?”

“Oh, uh,” he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, looking down at the floor, “I used to get them when I was a kid. I had a nanny who, uh, she was really good about them.”

You just nodded, feeling like you should tuck away that information. You knew so little about him, real things that hadn’t been in the binder. You wanted to file away everything you could.

“Are you– Will you be ok if I go take care of the food?”

You nodded again. “Yeah,” you said, softly. “I’ll be fine. Lola will take care of me. Won’t you, baby?” Lola flopped onto her back so that you could give her tummy scratches and you let out a soft giggle. You smiled up at Ransom, to reassure him. And he just sort of stopped. And stared at you. Your brow furrowed as you became self-conscious under his gaze and your smile started to drop. 

He suddenly shook himself out of whatever had been happening and nodded. “Yeah, ok. Yell if you need me,” and he darted out of the room. 

You weren’t sure exactly how long he was gone. You passed the time snuggling with Lola, taking comfort in her. You felt shaky and raw. And scared, still scared of everything that could happen, everything you’d yelled at Ransom about. And Ransom himself, how he would take to being yelled at like that, once he was done being worried. 

You heard his heavy footfalls at the top of the stairs and looked up as he came back into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed and turned so you could see half his face. “I didn’t–” he started and stopped. Then, after another moment, “I didn’t realize you were so worried about all of this.”

“How would you?” you asked, your eyes cast down, locked on Lola as you continued to pet her. “You’re never here. We never talk.”

“I’ve been really busy,” he said, just a tinge of defensiveness in his tone. “Work’s been awful.” He paused, then repeated, “I’ve been really busy.”

“Sure,” you said.

Neither of you said anything for long minutes. You just kept petting Lola, your hand moving over her body rhythmically. 

Then finally, Ransom said lowly, “We can work on it. Getting pregnant. If that will make you feel better. Make things easier for you.”

“Can we?” you asked. “I don’t know if what happened– if that was something that happens to you a lot, or if,” you looked back down, “or if you just don’t want me.”

He moved his hand so that his fingertips grazed yours on the bed. “It’s not that. It wasn’t ever that, ok?” You couldn’t help the way your whole body heated, just a bit, at the implication. You looked up just as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “I just– You were clearly so scared. You wanted to be anywhere else, I could tell. You wouldn’t let me touch you, you wouldn’t even look at me. I can’t do it like that. I just can’t.” He opened his eyes and looked right at you. “I just can’t.”

“Oh,” you said quietly. “That’s– I’m sorry, I–”

He shook his head. “No, that’s not– I just thought you should know.”

You sat quietly together for a few moments. Then you took a deep breath and said, “I think we should try again.”

He gave you a surprised look. “Now?” You nodded resolutely but he shook his head back at you. “You’re still coming down from your panic attack. This can wait til tomorrow.”

In the aftermath of your anxiety, the anger you’d felt had mostly faded away, but now it bubbled back up again. You were so tired of him dictating how everything would go. “No,” you said firmly. “I don’t want to put it off anymore. I’m fine now. This will make things better.”

He just looked at you, searching your face for something. You tried to show him how calm you were now, how sure. Finally, he let out a long sigh. “Fine,” he said. Then he got off the bed and started taking off his clothes. You scrambled up onto your knees to take your top off, gently coaxing Lola off the bed. She looked up at you, waiting for you to join her, but Ransom, now clad only in his boxers, picked her up, gently you noted, and deposited her in the hallway, shutting the door behind her. He looked at you as you continued to strip down to just your bra and panties, his eyes running over your body, and for the first time, you felt it. Maybe he did want you.

He climbed back on the bed. “Can I kiss you?” he asked. You froze for just a second, then nodded. He slowly brought his mouth to yours and caressed your lips with his own. His lips were soft and warm. The kiss was hesitant on both sides, not exactly passionate, but not chaste either. Nowhere near the worst you’d ever had. A quiet arousal began to pool in your core. Not need, not exactly. But it would be enough, you thought. You broke the kiss and laid down on your back. “I’m not trying to shut you out,” you said, trying to keep your tone kind, “but it’ll be faster, I think, if we both just get ourselves ready.” You started the same as last time, one hand on your breast, the other slowly traveling down your body to play with the hem of your panties. “But you can watch,” you added. “If that’s something you like.” 

He cleared his throat and nodded. Then he reached over and lightly grabbed your underwear with both hands. “Is this ok?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed, trying to push down your nerves. Everything was ok, this was what needed to happen. You were fine. You were ok.

He pulled your panties down your legs, then tossed them on top of his own clothes. You closed your eyes to focus again on your goto fantasy. The man standing over you. His voice in your ear. And again, you heard the sounds of Ransom getting himself ready. The snick of him opening the bottle of lube. The wet sounds of his hand working over his cock. This time you didn’t let it bother you. This time, you willed yourself not to flinch when you felt his hand on your leg. You had two fingers in your cunt and you worked yourself open, your thumb rubbing over your clit. Once you were wet enough, stretched enough, you opened your eyes and sat up. Ransom was staring at you, one hand on his hard cock, kneeling in front of you. 

“Ok,” you said, “I think I’m ready.” He started to move forward, but you stopped him with a hand on his bare chest. “Can I be on top?” you asked. “Is that ok?”

He looked down at where you were touching him and then back up at your face. “Yeah,” he grunted. “Yeah.”

You switched places as he laid down and you moved over him, straddling his pelvis and then carefully lowering yourself onto his cock. You tried not to grimace as he stretched you. He grunted again, as you slowly took more and more of him. Both of his hands came up to grasp your hips as you began to ride him, slowly at first, then picking up your pace. He was staring at your body and it was– it was a lot. Too much. You closed your eyes against it, hoping you just looked like you were into it. As he got closer, he started to buck up into you. You couldn't help but gasp at it. One of his hands moved from your hip to rub circles with his thumb over your clit, the rest of his hand splayed over your pelvis. You breathed through it, trying to let go enough to let yourself come, but you could tell that wasn’t going to happen. That was ok. That didn’t need to happen. Only one of you needed to come tonight.

He continued to buck up into you, his movements becoming more erratic. You balanced yourself with your hands on his shoulders. “Can I–” he grunted. “I’m gonna– Can I move you?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Yeah.”

He sat up and tucked you into him, rolling you both over so that you were now on your back and he was on top of you. He thrust back into you, once, twice, three times, and then he was coming, filling you up. His whole body stuttered over you and then collapsed on top of you. He breathed into your neck for countless moments and you didn’t know why, but you brought your hand up to gently stroke at the short hairs at the base of his skull. “Do you need me to–” he started to ask.

“No,” you said, knowing he was offering to help you finish. “I’m fine. Good. I’m good.”

You felt him nod, just a little, but he didn’t say anything else. It was so quiet, just the sounds of him catching his breath. Then he placed a soft kiss where your neck met your shoulder and lifted himself up and off you. You whimpered, just a little, as he pulled out. 

You quickly lifted your hips up to keep his cum inside of you. You reached blindly next to your head until you found a pillow that you shoved under your lower back to keep your pelvis canted up. Ransom moved around the room, picking his underwear off the floor, and then into the bathroom. A few minutes later he came back out with a washcloth. He moved it towards your cunt and you shot a hand out. “No! Wait.”

“Hey,” he said softly, “it’s ok. Just for your thighs. I know. I understand.” He gently moved the warm washcloth over your legs. “Are you alright?” He asked, not quite meeting your eyes. “Was that ok?”

“Yeah,” you said, moving your hand to brush along his forearm. “I’m alright. That was good.”

You lay in bed as Ransom lightly snored on his stomach next to you, Lola curled up between you. You couldn’t sleep. You’d been tossing and turning for about an hour, probably. You sat up. It was no use. Your mind was too busy. Sleep wasn’t going to come.

You grabbed your phone and got out of bed, moving downstairs to the living room as quietly as you could. You curled up on the couch and hugged your knees. You weren’t sure how you felt. It had been fine. Parts of it had even been good, maybe. It’d just, it’d been a long night. You’d gone through so many feelings, and now– Now, you just felt a little empty.

You looked at your phone. It was just before midnight. That meant it’d be a little before nine in LA. Steve hopefully wouldn’t still be working, but he wouldn’t be asleep yet either. He might be out, or painting, or busy some other way, but. It was worth a shot. 

It only rang once. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” Steve gasped. “Work has been a fucking nightmare, but that’s no excuse. I was going to try to call you tomorrow, but I’m so, so glad you called me now. How are you? Are you ok?”

The tears had started as soon as you heard your brother’s voice. “Steve,” was all you could get out before you were full-on crying.

“Oh, chipmunk, no. What’s wrong?”

You wiped your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get yourself together. You finally had your brother on the phone. You weren’t going to waste the whole conversation crying. “Nothing,” you managed. “I’m ok, I just– I’m just so happy to talk to you.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, and you thought that maybe his voice sounded a little thick too. “Me too. I’m so happy to talk to you. I’m so sorry it’s been so long. How are you doing? Your messages, you sounded– Are you ok?”

You sniffled as you tried to nod and then realized he couldn’t see it. “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m good. It’s just a little lonely here. I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too. Everything’s so different here without you. Shit, it’s late there. What are you doing up?”

You shrugged. “Just couldn’t sleep. It’s been a long day.”

Steve hummed and there was a tone to it you couldn’t quite decipher. “Is Ransom there?”

“Yeah, he’s asleep upstairs.”

“And how is he?” Steve’s tone was decidedly cold now.

“He’s fine,” you said, ignoring it. “His work’s been really busy too.”

“And how’s he been to you?” he asked and you definitely didn’t miss the challenge there.

“He’s been fine, Steve,” you said and you weren’t sure whether or not it was a lie. “Everything’s fine.” You’d already decided you weren’t going to tell him about the job thing. That wouldn’t do anything but upset him. Get him on a plane here, maybe, so he could try throwing his weight around. You rolled your eyes. It was better this way. “I’ve just been unpacking mostly. Nothing too exciting. What about you? What’s going on with you? I want to hear everything.”

“You’re sure it’s not too late there?”

“No, not at all. I’m wide awake. And nothing much to get up for in the morning anyway. But if you’re busy or need to go to bed or something, you can go whenever you need to.”

“Not a chance. I wanna talk to you as long as I can,” Steve said. And you knew he couldn’t see it, but you grinned into the phone anyway.

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[pink-sparkly-witch]

All She Wants, Part Three (Finale)

Summary: Dean’s experience with the wrong hormone suppressants makes him feral. The only person who can get him out of it and save his life is Y/N, the omega he had been mating with for years until she left six months ago. Without a claim and with no prospects of Dean ever giving her one, Y/N finally had enough and broke the bond they’d forged in their years together and left him, but with Sam now begging her to go to Dean and save his life, will she go, or will she leave the green-eyed alpha to his biological fate?

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Female Omega!Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Alpha Gone Feral for @j3bingo

Warnings: tw: dub con claiming, omegaverse, A/B/O, A/B/O dynamics, language, ruts, feral alpha, agitation, aggression, smut, rough sex, biting, oral sex (f rec), fingering, p in v sex, hair pulling, heavy angst, aftercare, fluff

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Here we go… the super angsty finale of this alpha!Dean mini-series! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

You can catch up here!

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Y/N’S POV

The knocking on your motel room door startles you, and you grab your gun from the waistband of your jeans and cautiously step towards the door. Flicking the safety off, you place the barrel onto the wood and cautiously open it just enough to see who’s on the other side.

“Sam? Cas?” you gasp, throwing the door open wider.

“You should be more careful, Y/N. We could be demons or shapeshifters or any other kind of monster,” Cas speaks first, and you blink at him, amused, as always, by his directness.

“Nice to see you, too, Cas,” you smirk, opening the door wider to let them in.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sam says as he leans down to hug you. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Sam,” you smile as you close the door behind them. You know whatever this unplanned visit is, it’s about Dean.

“You seem healthy,” Cas states, tilting his head to the side and frowning as if searching for something. “And yet—”

“So!” Sam interrupts quickly. “How have you been?”

“Fine…” You narrow your eyes at the alpha’s strange behaviour. “This isn’t a social visit, is it?” You finally ask.

“No,” Cas confirms, and you don’t know if you’re glad he’ll get straight to the point or if you’d prefer Sam to dance around it all a little more.

“Dean.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement. You knew from the way your stomach dropped the second you saw them that this wasn’t a good news visit.

“I asked Cas to find you,” Sam said softly.

You and the younger Winchester have stayed in touch since you left the bunker, but you agreed you wouldn’t tell him where you were, and he wouldn’t ask. It was one thing for Dean to find out they were talking, but it’d be another entirely if he knew Sam knew where she was.

“What happened?” Your mind goes to the worst possible scenario, and you try to fight the rising nausea. 

“Dean has been taking store bought suppressants,” Sam says, and you feel your blood boil.

“What? Why? Why would he be so goddamn stupid? Did he know what they’d do to an alpha in his situation?” you fume at the men as you pace the threadbare carpet.

“No. He knew they weren’t suitable long-term, but the side effects he experienced weren’t typical,” Cas answered.

“I thought it was a mix of the drugs and rejection sickness and that it’d ease over time,” Sam says calmly and quietly. “But I think he suffered some kind of chemical reaction to them, and by the time I found out what he was taking, it was too late.”

“Too late? Sam, what are you saying?” You’re terrified of what he’s so anxious to tell you.

“He’s feral, Y/N,” Cas finally puts you out of your misery, and while it’s bad news, it’s not the worst thing they could’ve told you. “But I don’t understand why you are not.”

It’s not an accusation. The angel is just curious about alphas who mate with but don’t claim omegas. To his literal knowledge, an alpha finds an omega, they mate, there’s a claim, an unbreakable bond, and pups. Your situation with Dean had always intrigued the celestial being.

“Because I’ve been taking the suppressants I should. Prescribed by a doctor. Why didn’t he do the same thing?” Contrary to the angel’s question, yours is accusatory as you look between Sam and Cas.

“You know what he’s like, Y/N. He doesn’t talk about these things, and I didn’t know until a few days ago. He’s been overcome with guilt for how he treated you, and I think…” Sam trails off, noticing from the look on your face that you know what he was alluding to.

“You think this is some kind of self-sacrifice?” you ask in disbelief. Dean is well known for his self-depreciation, and it’s something you’ve seen and heard from him many times, but this? “No… No, I don’t believe that. Why would he put himself through that just to go feral anyway? Why not just lie down and let it happen on its own?”

“You really want me to answer that?” Sam asks, and you frown.

“Sam, you can’t be serious! Dean is not doing this to punish himself for hurting me. There’s no way,” you argue, but you know the green-eyed alpha better than he knows himself. It does sound like something he’d do to himself—some kind of fucked up repentance for his behaviour.

Sam only shrugs, and you sigh, knowing you’ve both come to the same conclusion.

“So, what? You want me to go to him? Get him out of this mess?”

“You’re his mate. Only you can get him back from this,” Cas says, and you laugh bitterly, taking the angel by surprise.

“I bet Dean loves that!” you scoff. “Anytime I told him that like it or not, we’re mates, he shot me down in flames!”

“I know he hurt you, and I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, and Dean knows it too. He told me not to look for you. That he doesn’t deserve your help, but I’m asking you to think about it. Please?”

“I don’t know, Sam. If I go to him, you know what it means, right?” you check, not convinced either of them fully understand what they’re asking of you.

“I do,” Sam responds.

“And you know it’s pretty much a done deal that he’ll claim me in his feral haze? And then when he comes to, he’ll regret it and reject me? You’re asking me to sacrifice myself for him? Because I won’t survive his rejection, you both know that, right?”

“He’d never reject you, Y/N,” Cas confirms what you know in your heart, but it brings no comfort.

“Oh, because a forced claim and being stuck with someone who doesn’t want me is a better fate than dying from rejection!”

“He does want you. He loves you. He just can’t—” Sam starts, but you interrupt with a scoff.

“Give me what I want. I know, Sam. He’s told me that so many times it’s imprinted in my memory!” You huff, quickening your pacing.

You want to say no. You want to protect yourself and your fragile heart that’s still trying to heal, but you know if you were the feral one, Dean would already be here, doing everything he could to get you through it—even claiming you just so you’d survive.

He doesn’t deserve to die, and yet, you don’t deserve to be someone’s mistake, but you can’t see any other option. If you don’t go to him, he’ll die. If you go to him, and he doesn’t reject you, you’ll be miserable, but you’ll both be alive.

“Fuck!” you yell in frustration. Once again, you feel that self-loathing that only Dean seems able to bring out of you. You hate yourself because you still love him even after everything, and you’d sacrifice everything to save him.

“Where is he?”

Walking up to the secluded cabin, you shiver at the deathly silence surrounding you. As if being this deep in the woods isn’t ominous enough, there isn’t even a bird chirping or an insect buzzing in the heavy air.

You’re so deep in the woods that the midday sun can’t even breach the trees. You drove as close as you could, but you’d had to abandon your car about a mile back. This is probably the safest house Bobby had ever found, and you have to admire Dean for choosing this one to hide out in.

Sam had given you the key. At first, you’d been shocked he’d lock Dean in with no way to escape, but you knew feral alphas aren’t to be taken lightly. There had been cases of ferals going on murder sprees, and the green-eyed hunter would never risk putting people in any kind of danger.

“Dean?” you call out as you knock on the door. “It’s Y/N. Sam found me. He said you need my help.” With no response, you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for being too late, and put the key in the lock.

Pushing the door open slowly, the sour smell of Dean’s feral rut slams into you, and immediately your body begins to respond to the distressed alpha. Your skin tingles, heat floods your veins, and slick pools at your entrance. You’ve never been more grateful for a heat to come on as you are now. If it didn’t, Dean could seriously hurt or even kill you trying to get himself out of this.

“Omega,” Dean growls from the doorway of the bedroom and with one look at his bloodshot eyes, you know there’s little to no humanity in him right now.

“Alpha,” you whimper and bow your head in submission.

“Mine,” he groans in front of you, and you jump, having not heard him move across the room.

Dean buries his head in your neck and inhales your scent, gasping as if he’d been suffocating, and your scent is his oxygen.

“My ‘mega,” Dean snarls and slams you against the wooden door. You whimper at the pain and remind yourself not to fight. If you fight, things could get ugly.

Pawing at your jeans, he tries to undo them, but in his desperation to get at you, he can’t grasp the little brass button and punches the wall next to your head in frustration.

“Hey,” you purr, placing a hand on his cheek and smiling as he leans into your touch, “It’s okay, Alpha. Let me.”

Loosening the button and pulling the zipper down, you kick off your shoes, slide the denim from your legs and step out of them. Moving to your shirt, you begin pulling at the material when Dean slaps your hands away.

“No!” he growls. “Mine.”

Dean isn’t gentle when he claws at your shirt, grabbing the neckline with both hands and ripping the cotton from your body. The groan that rumbles from his belly when your lace-covered breasts are exposed to his gaze has slick soaking through your underwear.

He wastes no time placing his lips on the tops of your breasts, biting and sucking the sensitive skin, marking you in a way he never has before. Dean pulls the cups of your bra down and quickly finds a hard nipple, and you groan from his overzealous assault.

You whine as the alpha pulls away from you, but before you can complain further, Dean lifts you on his shoulder and carries you to the bedroom.

“Strip,” he orders as he places you back on your feet, and you don’t dare disobey or take your time removing your bra and panties. 

“Good girl,” he praises as he takes his clothes off, and you wonder if just being here is making him a little less feral. “Get on the bed, Omega.”

Again, you don’t dare take your time and quickly crawl onto the bed and wait for his next instruction. Dean kneels at the bottom of the bed, pulls you down by your ankles, and pushes your knees down to the mattress.

“Mine,” he growls as the scent of your slick reaches him, and he lowers his head between your legs. He’s not gentle, anything but, and his longer stubble scratches and jabs at your soft, sensitive skin. It’s sore, yet you quickly fall apart on his mouth.

Before you fully come down from your high, Dean’s fingers are inside you, and he’s sucking and biting his way up your body. When this is over, your skin will be an interesting spectrum of colour; you can already see patches of red on your breasts from earlier, and Dean’s not done with them yet as he goes back to sucking and biting your nipples.

As your forced heat takes over, the pain from Dean’s bites and rough hands ease, and all you can feel and hear now is desire and pleasure and growls and snarls, and Dean, mumbling mine over and over again while his teeth nip at your neck.

“Present, Omega,” Dean growls as he pulls back from your body just enough to let you turn around. You crawl further up the bed and lean forward onto your elbows. You unintentionally wiggle your ass as you get comfortable in your new position, making Dean growl deeply and spank your round cheeks.

You feel his hands slide up your thighs and over your ass. His touch soothes and cools your heated skin. When he finally slams into your slick, aching pussy, it’s hard, rough, and deliciously painful.

Dean is fully feral, and there’ll be no stopping him until he comes out of the rut in five or six days. You know it won’t be pretty, and you won’t come out of this unscathed. At least your heat is making you feel like a wanton whore.

As your humanity is overtaken by omega, much like Dean’s is with alpha, your last thought is being grateful for being in a cabin in the middle of the woods, in the middle of nowhere.

It’s been six days, and Dean still pounds into you like there’s no tomorrow. Your heat is starting to wane, but hasn’t subsided so much that you won’t still be pliable under his hands. Still, at least the heat fog is beginning to lift, and you hope it’s a sign that Dean’s rut is finally ending.

It took four knots to get him out of his feral state, but his rut is intense, and he’s insatiable. You suppose the combination of suppressants and being feral will do that to an alpha. 

“‘Mega,” Dean grunts as his hand slides up your spine and grips your neck. “So good for me, baby girl.”

His praise makes you purr, and you feel his hand slide from your neck into your hair and wrap his fist around it, making your body turn to jelly. Dean tugs your hair, and you’re forced to raise to your knees, your back pressed against his chest, and he pulls your head to the side by your hair, exposing your neck to him.

It’s already black and blue from the gnawing he’s been doing there this past week, but this is different. He’s scenting you and licking your mating gland and whining. Dean loves licking and kissing your neck, but not like this. It feels different. There’s a change in the atmosphere, and his thrusts are brutal and stuttered.

You try to move, try and get him away from you, but he snarls and yanks your hair painfully, keeping a hold of it so you can’t move.

“Dean,” you whimper, and he snarls again at the use of his name, and you know he’s not as far out of this rut as you’d hoped. “Alpha, please,” you beg, but it’s useless. He’s too far gone again. His mouth is sucking on your mating gland, and he’s growling and grunting as his knot swells and catches at your entrance.

“Please don’t do it, Alpha. It’s just the rut. You don’t want this… you don’t want me, please!” you cry. But as his knot slips inside, locking you together, your head falls back on his shoulder, and when his teeth break your skin, you scream your release and lose the little self-control you had earlier.

Coming down from your high, you notice that Dean is still latched onto you, and you can feel blood dripping down your neck. The sudden rush of hormones and pheromones from the claim makes you reach another orgasm, and this time, you take the alpha with you. Grunting and growling, Dean’s release coats your walls, and you let the blackness take over.

When you come to, you’re on your side, and Dean is cleaning and soothing the wound on your neck with gentle licks and soft kisses. You’re still locked together, and every twitch of his cock catches your G-spot and fills your womb with even more of his seed.

A brief thought that he could’ve gotten you pregnant crosses your mind, and you hope the fates aren’t so cruel as to have this be when you get your wish of pups; not like this.

The last week finally catches up with you, and the lullaby of Dean’s whines and whimpers, combined with his soft kisses, lull you into a deep sleep.

The sun’s warmth on your face begins to wake you from sleep. Your muscles feel heavy, and Dean’s lips caress your back and shoulders.

“Morning, Omega,” he rasps behind you, sliding a warm hand over your hip, and a pang of dread settles in your stomach. You’re tired, every muscle in your body is screaming at you, and your pussy is in agony from a week of rough pounding and knots courtesy of the alpha pulling you closer to his body. If he’s still not out of this rut, you don’t think you’ll survive another round.

“Don’t worry,” Dean chuckles. “I’m not feral anymore, and the rut has gone.”

You’re confused, wondering how he knew what you were thinking. You don’t think you groaned. In fact, you’re pretty sure you didn’t even move. Your body is too sore to even tense up.

Then you remember Dean claimed you and that he did it while in a feral rut. 

As your whole world comes crashing down around you, you do the one thing you’d rather die than do in front of Dean.

Cry.

DEAN’S POV

Devastation. That’s all he can feel radiating from the omega next to him. When he woke an hour ago, he’d been happier than ever. The second he claimed Y/N, there was a shift, and all felt right in the world.

He thought—naively, he now realises—Y/N would be happy. It’s what she wanted. What she needed, but the sheer anguish from her tells a different story. The worst part of all this is the shame he feels for claiming her without her consent and the knowledge that now, she’s stuck with him whether she wants to be or not.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay,” Dean tries to soothe her and presses his lips to her shoulder. “Y/N, look at me, please?” She remains on her side, facing away from him and crying, and the alpha in him takes over. His omega is in distress, and he needs to fix it. “Omega, look at me!” he growls lowly, and watches as Y/N obeys his order and timidly rolls onto her back.

Dean’s jaw drops, and he’s disgusted with himself as he takes in her abused torso. There are a couple of bites and bruises on her back and shoulders, but it’s nothing compared to what covers her neck, breasts and stomach. There’s so much bruising that barely any skin has been left unblemished. As he scans further down her body, he can see the same damage over the tops of her thighs and between her legs.

“Baby girl, I’m so sorry. I—” Dean can’t finish; he has no words for what he did to her. He immediately gets out of bed and fills the tub with hot water. There’s only so much he can do for her out here in the cabin, but the safe house is stocked with first aid supplies, medication and dry and tinned food. 

When the tub is full, he shuts off the water and walks back into the bedroom, seeing Y/N still lying on her back and seemingly void of all emotion. Whether it’s on purpose to shut him out or she’s in shock, Dean’s not sure.

Walking over, Dean lifts her from the bed and carries her into the bathroom. He lowers her into the hot water and bathes her gently, mumbling words of comfort, hoping she can hear him and that she can find it in her to forgive him.

Y/N’S POV

After tenderly bathing you, Dean left you to soak in the warm water a little longer, telling you there were clothes in the wardrobe and that he’d make something to eat.

“Please eat with me, omega. You need to get your strength up, and we need to talk,” Dean had begged before he left, closing the door but not fully so he could still keep an eye on you.

He was right; you do need to talk. And eat. You feel weak and lightheaded and desperately in need of something to take away the pain that’s pulsing through every inch of your body.

When the water has lost its warmth, you climb out and wrap yourself in a towel, avoiding the mirror in the corner. Dean’s reaction earlier is enough for you to know you’ll burst into tears if you see it for yourself. And you can’t bear to see his claim on your neck when it was given under duress.

Pulling clothes from the wardrobe, you choose the softest and biggest things you can find. You know from the smell that the sweats and t-shirt are Dean’s, but you’ve always gotten comfort from his scent, and you suspect you’ll get even more from it now.

Coming out of the bedroom, you follow the noise towards the main part of the cabin and find Dean spooning pasta into bowls in the kitchen.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” he asks, stopping what he’s doing to give you his full attention.

“Sore,” you chuckle, pulling out a stool. You hiss and wince, the throbbing—and not the good kind—between your legs getting worse for a few seconds as you sit.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean… I hate that I was so rough. That I’ve hurt you,” Dean says as he pushes a bowl and fork towards you.

“You were feral, Dean. It’s not your fault,” you reply, and you mean it. It’s really not his fault.

“It is, though, sweetheart. If I had taken the right suppressants, I wouldn’t have gone feral, and I wouldn’t have claimed you without your consent.”

“I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. I’m just sorry you’re stuck with me,” you smile sadly. “And if you want to leave, I get it. I know I’m not what you want—”

“Would you stop saying that?” Dean interrupts. “I do want you. I have always wanted you. I’m scared that tying you to me will put you in danger.” The desperation rolls from him in waves, and you know he’s telling you the truth. You can feel it. “I want you, Omega. I want this. I don’t regret claiming you. I regret doing it against your will, and if you want to leave me… reject me… It’s what I deserve, and I’ll let you walk out of here right now, but please stop saying that I don’t want you, Y/N. You’re all I want.”

The chemical bond you now share with Dean is overwhelming. He feels more deeply than he ever lets on, and regret over the non-consensual claim is putting it mildly. He’s distraught over it, and his feelings are so strong that you can almost hear the thoughts in his head telling him he’s stupid and he’s fucked things up before it’s really started between you. You can’t take it. You can’t let him think you don’t want this too.

“You’re all I want too, Alpha. The reason I got so upset when I realised you could feel how I felt is because it was a rut claim, and we’d be stuck together and miserable and resentful, and I didn’t want that for either of us, but I could never reject you, Dean. I love you too much.”

The relief that washes over him makes you smile, and because of your new bond, you know he knows every word is true.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t admit it before, and I’m sorry I didn’t give you what you wanted sooner.” Dean slides off his stool and comes to your side with a tube of cream in his hand. “Now, let me see that claim. It needs something on it, sweetheart.”

You tilt your head to the side and pull the neck of the shirt down, exposing the angry, swollen bite mark. Dean gently covers the wound with the medicated cream, and you hiss at the sting.

“Sorry, baby girl.” Dean winces, feeling your discomfort as clearly as you can. “Now, eat and then bed, Omega.”

“Just to sleep, right?” you ask, scrunching up your face and wriggling in your seat at the thought of him going anywhere near your pussy for at least a week. “No sex?”

“No sex,” Dean laughs. “You need to rest, sweetheart, so just lots of cuddles and closeness and bonding and sleep.”

THE END

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567

[skzdust]

Can I request a Han fic where the reader is an idol under JYP who also happens to be Chan's little sister?

I thought I wouldn't have much time to write recently but I LOVED this idea so I worked on it last night and today on my lunch break and I finished it!

This was such a fun one to work on, thanks for the request and I really hope you like it!

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Intimate

Summary: You went to your brother Chan's place crying, but you found his roommate Han Jisung instead.

Pairing: Han Jisung x fem!idol!reader

Word count: 1k

Taglist: @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345

Includes: fluff, hurt/comfort, pie as a comfort food, cuddles, sharing a bed (sfw)

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

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You knocked on the door and stepped back, shuffling your feet on the hallway carpet.

You’d been hoping it’d be your brother Chan who opened the door, but you weren’t so lucky. It was Han Jisung, who’d always been mostly nice but teasing to you. You didn’t need teasing right now.

“Y/n! Are you looking for Chan—oh, what’s wrong?” His voice was colored with worry as he saw the tear tracks on your face.

“Yeah.” You mumbled, pushing past him and walking into the living room to flop face-first on the couch.

“I think he’s in the studio right now.”

“It’s four in the morning.” You mumbled. “Why is he in the studio?”

“Dunno.” You heard one of the chairs in the room squeak slightly as Jisung sat down. “He does that sometimes, especially when he can’t sleep. He goes and works on music.”

“Mph.” You groaned. You could understand that, you did the same, writing songs for your group in the dead of night. You’d been hoping to wake Chan up, though, not miss him entirely.

“Is there… do you want to talk about it?” Jisung asked hesitantly, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

You considered for a moment, worried Jisung might make fun of you if you told him the truth.

If he does tease me, I can just leave and text Chan. You reassured yourself.

You tilt your head sideways so you’re not talking into the pillow. “I totally messed up in practice for this music video last night and I’m worried I’ll be dropped or something. We’re about to debut, and we have to be, like… perfect.”

Jisung hummed thoughtfully. “And that was last night? Your debut is set for… less than a month, right?”

“Three weeks and four days.”

“Been thinking about it?”

You sighed. “Yeah.”

“I get it. It’s terrifying.”

You looked up at him over your shoulder. “Not going to poke fun at me?”

Jisung tilted his head, confused. “No? You’re crying. You know, I only do that when I’m joking around. I never mean it genuinely.”

“It still hurts sometimes.” You sat up, hugging the pillow.

“I’m sorry.” Jisung cleared his throat. “I guess… I go too far sometimes.”

You nodded, new tears forming in your eyes. “I appreciate that.”

“Oh, did I say something wrong?” He leaned towards you.

You sniffed. “No, I’m just… emotional, I guess.”

“Here, I have a solution.” Jisung stood up and walked into the kitchen. You watched him go, curious. You heard the fridge open and close, and he walked back in with a plate of pie and a fork.

“Oh, that’s my favorite kind.” You smiled.

“Yeah. I remembered you mentioning it a little bit ago and I thought I’d give it a try.” Jisung shrugged, holding the plate out to you. “It was pretty good, but I got a lot, and I had some extra.”

You took the pie and took a bite. It was delicious, comforting, and exactly what you needed. “Thank you.” You said, your mouth full.

He laughed, and you were suddenly struck by how cute he was when he was genuinely happy.

Although I’ve always kind of found him attractive…

“I’m glad you’re liking it.” He sat back down and held out his hand. “Here, let me have a bite.”

You held out the plate. “Should you… new fork?”

“I don’t care.” He took it. “Do you?”

“No.” You said, your face heating up.

“You’re all red!” Jisung grinned. “You do care!”

“Whatever.” You mumbled, unable to hold back your smile.

He took a bite, then gave the plate to you. You broke off a piece of the pie with the fork, hesitated for a moment, then took the bite. You handed it back to him, and he had another bite, too.

It felt intimate.

When the pie was finished, Jisung set the plate down on the coffee table. “Did that help?”

“Yeah.” You leaned back. “Why are you still up, anyway?”

He pointed to the TV, where a show was paused. “I couldn’t sleep, either.”

“Is something up?”

He didn’t look at you. “No.”

“I told you mine.”

He sighed. “I guess I’m in a similar boat to you. I’m really struggling with some choreography, and I think Minho is annoyed with me at this point.”

“Yeah, I definitely understand that.” You nodded. “But if you want to get good at the choreo, you should probably get some sleep, you’re not gonna be able to dance tomorrow if you’re exhausted.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Says you.”

“I don’t want to go back to my place.” You said softly. “One of my roommates was mad at me about… tonight.”

“Sleep here, then.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” You shook your head. “I don’t like couches, I’ll be brave and go home and lay in bed or something.”

Jisung thought for a moment. “I have an idea, if you’re up for it.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Shoot.”

“We could both sleep in my bed. Maybe having someone else close would help.”

The part of you that had a crush on Jisung went wild.

“Sure, that sounds nice.” You smiled.

“Nice.” He stood up. “C’mon.”

You followed him down the hall and to his room, which you’d never been in before. It was a little messy, but you could tell he was organized. His bed was mussed up, like he’d been tossing and turning. Given what he’d told you, he probably had been.

He pulled back the covers and motioned for you to get in. “Get comfy.”

You did so, getting into the bed and pulling the comforter over yourself. You were suddenly exhausted, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. The bed dipped when Jisung got in.

You got an idea. “Jisung?”

“Hm?”

“Can we, um, cuddle? I’m just feeling a bit lonely, and I think it’d be nice, and I… I dunno, we don’t have to.” You rambled.

“‘Course we can.” Jisung opened his arms, and you scooted into them.

He was warm, and solid, and comforting, and safe.

Intimate.

You felt content for the first time since your disastrous practice as you cuddled into his chest.

“Chan might kill me.” He muttered, his embrace tightening a bit.

“No, he won’t.” You closed your eyes. “Chan’ll be fine.”

“Even if he did, it would be worth it.” He said with a soft laugh.

That was the last thing you heard before you fell into sleep.

[changenameno]

Gym Master (One-Shot)

(Complete)

 Summary:

The concept of working out wasn’t completely new to you, but you definitely, really overdid it today. You shouldn’t have. Because now you are standing in front of the staircase to your apartment. Which coincidentally is on the fifth floor, with no elevator. And no way in hell, are you able to walk all these stairs, with your sore legs. So what are you going to do?

 

Pairing: Clark Kent x Curvy Fem. Reader

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, a few self-deprecating comments/thoughts, strength kink, p in v, breeding kink, praise kink

Word count: 3.3K

 

A/N: Okay I may have worked out longer today and I’m super (wink, wink) sore, so this came to me. All mistakes are my own. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! Enjoy❤️✨

 

 👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓

You stood before the staircase, gym bag lying, long abandoned next to you. How on earth were you going to climb all those? You could barely stand up, legs screaming at you to sit down.

 

 

Then without warning, a whirlwind of black curls in a chequered shirt passed you. You didn’t recognize him, once he had climbed a few steps, he turned back. His face just as sightly as his behind.

Strong jawline, shapely lips forming a kind smile and striking blue eyes behind black rimmed glasses roving over your form.

 

 

Those same lips opened and a smooth voice sounded, “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met yet? I just moved in. I’m Clark, fifth floor. And you?”

 

 

You stared a moment, asking yourself how you could have missed him moving in and on the same floor no less. Once you recovered a bit, you gave him your name adding that you too lived on the fifth floor.

 

 

His charming smile widened at that, “Really? No way, I could have missed someone so beautiful, living right next to me.”

 

 

Heat began rolling through you, because this handsome man wasn’t just nice, he very much flirted with you and you had no idea how to response. Averting your eyes.

 

 

Clark noticed your slight unease, afraid he came on too strong, he continued, “Erm, well… just wanted to tell you, it’s nice to meet you. And I erm, have to get going. So see you around?”

 

 

Still a bit stumped, you only nodded, then he turned and moved up the stairs so swiftly, it had you envious, because of your predicament.

 

 

You waited a bit, not wanting him to see you, attempting to move. As you lifted your bag, you thought your arm would give out. Every single muscle you had, hurt. Very badly.

 

 

Still you had to at least try to go upstairs, gripping the bannister to your left and starting to heave your body up the first step. Then the second, and the third. Once you finally reached the second floor, you felt your glutens burn like hell, teeth clenched the whole way there, to suppress the pained whimpers wanting to break forth.

 

 

You let your bag fall to the ground again, sitting down on the first step leading to the third floor. The possibility of ever reaching the fifth floor, seemed unlikely. You slumped in on yourself, leaning your exhausted body against the cool stone wall to your right. There was no way you could walk another three stories in this condition. You weren’t even sure if you could stand up again.

 

 

After about thirty minutes, during which you hoped to gather enough strength to continue your ascend, you knew you were stuck. You couldn’t continue even if your life depended on it. Then after another fifteen minutes, you considered calling someone to save you. Not caring anymore how embarrassing it’d be to have someone see you in this state. But you had difficulties deciding on who to call. You definitely needed someone strong enough, not that you where that heavy but you didn’t trust any of your girlfriends to be able to carry you and your bag three flights of stairs.

 

 

You were so emerged in your thoughts, you didn’t immediately hear the footfalls approaching. Once you did, it was too late to hide your predicament, because you couldn’t just jump up and pretend nothing was wrong.

 

 

You cursed internally as those striking blue eyes from before, found your gaze, this time though with frowning dark brows, “Hey again…erm, are you okay?”

 

 

Now you frowned as well. Great, of course it had to be your handsome neighbour to find you stranded on the stairs. Still you were so fed up with your aching body, you decided to tell him the truth, “Well actually, no. I erm… overworked myself in the gym and… and I’m so exhausted I can’t climb the rest of the stairs…”

 

 

You didn’t hold his gaze, rather looking down at your leggings clad thighs, wishing to be anywhere else right now. Sighing as you expected him to laugh at your pathetic display, any moment now.

 

 

Instead he commented, “Mmmh that can happen to the best of us. I don’t mind lending you a hand.”

 

 

That had you looking up, in record time. He couldn’t be serious, right? But Clark actually held out his hand, you blinked at it a few times, too baffled to reach up. Kindly smiling down at you he continued cheekily, “I swear I don’t bite.” Adding more quietly, “Unless you want me to.”

 

 

Your eyes widened at his last commented, so shocked, you hadn’t had time to protest as his hand circled your wrist and without further ado, he pulled you up. Now standing so close to him, you could smell his heavenly cologne. Fuck, you hadn’t even showered before you left the gym.

 

 

“Put your arms around my neck,” he instructed you.

Suddenly a little insecure, you couldn’t stop your self-deprecating comment, “No, no…wait I’m too heavy!”

 

 

Though your protest fell on deaf ears, as Clark swung your bag over his right shoulder, while he started to lift you with his left. Mewling, you quickly did as he said, slinging your arms around his neck. The angered growl he let out, had you ruin your panties, “You aren’t, too heavy. Maybe too beautiful, but that isn’t an issue in my books. Now is it?” His blue eyes were fixed on your face, sternly awaiting your answer.

 

 

The way he’d said it, had the heat in your stomach curling happily and you whispered back, “Erm, no… I-I guess not.”

 

 

His next words, had more wetness rush into your panties, “Good girl.” Then he set into motion, making you hold onto him tighter, still a little afraid he’d let you fall. On the contrary though, Clark didn’t seem like he was carrying anything, moving just as swiftly up the stairs as before, not even slightly bothered by the added weight.

 

 

Good God, he was strong. His biceps pressed against your ass and his large hand held onto your thigh, fingers digging into the flesh, though pleasantly. You had to suppress a shiver, as you were thinking about something entirely different that these fingers could do. They were long and slender, sure to reach a lot deeper than your own, possibly stretching you for something even bigger.

 

Clark hadn’t even reached the fourth floor yet, and here you were, pulsing pussy wanting nothing more than to be pounded into by this strong, muscled man you’d just met.

 

You carefully peeked at his face, trying to gauge if he’d noticed your excitement.

 

 

You did see his nostrils flare and you could have sworn, his pupils looked more blown out than a minute ago. Electric blue irises, reduced to thin rings almost swallowed by the blackness of his pupils. This did nothing to help calm you down, especially when those orbs landed on your face. Hunger and desire plainly displayed on his chiselled face.

 

 

His gaze was back on the staircase, but a sly smirk had settled on his lips as he continued upwards. Not even two minutes later, he had reached the fifth floor.

 

 

“Which one is your door?” Clark still hadn’t set you down, like you had thought he would, so you nodded to the white door of your apartment.

 

“Mmhm right next to mine, interesting.” You didn’t know what to make of his comment so you ignored it, as he approached your door. When he came to a stop you looked at him expectantly, if a bit disappointed you’d reached your destination, “Erm… you can let me down now.” That was pretty much the opposite you wanted. But you couldn’t very well let him in, on your exact thoughts, on what you wanted him to do to you.

 

 

He chuckled, “I can yeah. But what if I don’t want to?”

 

 

Okay you were almost certain this man wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. Even if he was your neighbour, consequences be damned.

So you purred back,” If that were the case, I would invite you in.”

 

 

Adding a bit quieter, just as he had earlier, “You know to thank you…properly,” putting emphasis on the last word. His fingers gripped your thigh harder, growling just one word, “Keys.”

 

 

That had you fumbling for the back pocket of your leggings, pulling out your keys at last. His larger hand ripped it from yours, nearly jamming into the keyhole. Once he’d opened the door, he carried you through the threshold, carelessly letting your bag fall to the ground then kicking your door shut.

 

Before you could say anything Clark had you swung around in his arms, pressing your back against the door. On instinct you adjusted to the new position, crossing your legs behind his back and pulling his face closer to yours by his neck. He didn’t wait, immediately following the need to taste you, so he did. Meeting your lips in a wild and hungry kiss.

 

 

His enthusiasm, made him thrust forward, so your overheating centre was grinding against his bulge. Making him groan into the kiss. Only separating for the much needed supply of oxygen.

 

 

To grind into you even harder one of his hands had grabbed your ass. You let out a loud moan, as this had caused your clit to rub against the button on his jeans. “You sound divine, little dove. Let’s see what other noises I can pull from that sweet mouth of yours.”

 

 

And just like that he bit down, on the junction where your neck met your shoulder, making you cry out, “Yes ahh…fuck Clark, pl-please!”

 

Mouth still attached to your skin he ground out, “That’s it, let the neighbours know who’s making you feel good.”

 

Mewling again, as he suddenly hoisted you up a bit, so your body bounced up, now sitting above his straining cock. Your hands having moved to his nape, pulling lightly on his dark strands.

He grunted, then began moving down the hall, but in the opposite direction of your bedroom, so you squirmed in his hold, tucking harder on his hair to get his attention. “W-wait my bedroom is the other way.”

 

 

Clark had reached your kitchen, unceremoniously plopping you down on the countertop,” Who said I wanted to go to the bedroom?”

 

 

He didn’t wait for an answer, swiftly pulling your sport shirt over your head and tossing it onto the floor. This made you a bit self-conscious, sitting before him in your leggings and sports bra, harsh light from the kitchen window sure to enhance the small rolls of fat accumulating on your soft belly. So you quickly let go of his neck to hug your torso, trying to hide.

 

 

He tutted, taking your chin between his thumb and index, so you had to look at him, “Hey, none of that. Don’t hide. I want to see you, all of you, gorgeous.” Gentle smile on his lips telling you, he meant what he’d said.

 

 

Hesitantly nodding, you loosened your arms and then removed your hands from your body, to let him see. Clark retracted his own hand, eyes roving over your exposed skin, whispering, “Simply breath-taking.”

His warm hand slowly stroked over your shoulder, taking the strap of your bra and pulling it down your arm, you stopped his movement, surprising yourself with your new found confidence as you purred, “Let me.”

 

 

You crossed your arms at the front, taking hold of the lilac fabric of your sports bra and swiftly pulled it off. Exposing your tits to his predatory gaze. His hands reached up, engulfing them, thumbs brushing over your stiff nipples. You leaned back onto your hands, pushing your chest into his even more with the movement.

 

Soft sighs left your lips when Clark leaned down to suck one of your nipples into the hot cavern of his mouth, the tip of his tongue teasing over the sensitive flesh. He definitely knew what he was doing. Switching between your breasts, nibbling on your skin, it had your back bowing. You were pretty sure you needn’t have him prepare you any further, because between your legs a puddle had formed already.

 

 

Your right hand tried to pull him up by his nape, but the animalistic growl he let out, made you hesitate, chuckling lightly as you tried again and received the same answer. So instead you opted to lean closer to him, ducking down to whisper into his ear urgently, “Clark… I need your cock inside me, now.”

 

 

That nearly had him collide with your head as his shot up, searching your face. You smirked at his eagerness, as he tore his own shirt open and off, hands flying to the sipper of his jeans next, finally freeing his tortured rod from his confinement. He shimmied out of his pants, only clad in his black boxers now. Impressively tented. You licked your lips in anticipation.

 

 

His hands landed on your hips, growling,” Up.” Every muscle protested as you lifted yourself up to assist him, as he yanked your leggings and panties off, in one go. Leaving you completely naked. When you tried closing your legs, he prevented it by stepping closer and in between them. Opening them wider, steel grip on your knees, so he could take his sweet time staring at your deliciously, dripping cunt. He positioned you, so one foot was plated on the counter and the other hung of the edge.

 

 

“Oh, look at that pretty, pretty pussy. Overflowing. And all for me.” The muscles of your cunt visibly quivered in response to his filthy comment.

You were so desperate to have him inside, you made grabby hands at him. Clark chuckled darkly, “So impatient, my little dove.” But he did push his boxers down.

 

 

You could have sworn, your heart stopped for a second. His cock was so long and heavy it couldn’t even stand up straight, instead the red tip dipped in your direction, bowing down lightly. Oh fuck, how where you supposed to take that monstrosity?

 

He must have seen the frightened look in your eyes, because he added smugly, while placing his hands on your waist, “Don’t worry, we’ll make it fit.” You huffed, biting your lip. Then another thought bubbled up. His eyes seemed familiar somehow, but you couldn’t pinpoint where you had seen them before. You slowly reached up, stroking over his prominent cheekbones and then you gently removed his glasses, setting them down on the counter.

 

 

Frowning you took in his features, wondering how such a god like creature could seem familiar in any way. Maybe you had dreamed about him? Or you had actually seem him pass you or something, you lived in the same house after all? Yes that had to be it.

There wasn’t more time to keep thinking anyway, as you suddenly felt the thick swollen head of his cock rub through your wet folds.

 

His humming the only warning you got, before he began pushing in, one hand guiding his thick shaft. The wide head stretching you open, as he grunted, moving his hips further forward. Your hands griped his broad shoulders, head falling back as he continued to insert himself. Inch by inch he fed you his cock, your heat so slick he easily slid in. But just when you thought he’d settled fully inside, he panted, “Nearly there. Taking me so well, little dove.”

 

 

Your eyes widened, with how full you already felt you thought he was buried to the hilt. Apparently not, but then a triumphant groan left him as he pulled back a little and slammed you against him full force, completely sheathing himself inside your hot cavern. A loud wail left you, pleasure and pain mixing. Out of breath you cursed, “Fucking hell, give a girl a warning…will you?”

 

He simply chuckled, but let you adjust to him. His thumb finding your clit, teasing and rubbing slow circles to get you to relax. That made you clamp down harder, at the sparks of pleasure travelling through you. Making him curse this time, “Fu-uck, love, you feel so good. So fucking tight for me.”

 

 

Hands pulling you closer, so you could cross your ankles behind his back once more. The new positon making you see stars, as he pushed his pelvis to your special nub. Mewling loudly as he pulled out, deeming you ready enough for what would come next. The sound of him slamming into you, filthy, echoing in the tiled kitchen. It made your head spin.

 

 

Clark had just began, but you looked so fucked out already, swollen lips, closed eyes and moaning loudly. Driving him sheer insane with desire, as his balls continuously slapped against you, adding to the filthy sounds filling the room.

 

 

His normally soft blue eyes, were filled with lust as he stared down at you. Trying to keep up his quick pace and thrusting into you deeper, he pulled you off the counter, holding you up with his big paws on your ass. You shrieked as he penetrated you so wholly you were sure he’d carved a new, longer tunnel inside you, just so he could fit. “So clo-se… don’t stop.”

 

 

Clark pulled you up, so just his tip remained inside, before dropping you down his entire length once more, “Yeah, close already? Wanna be filled up, don’t you, you filthy girl?”

 

 

You cried out, “Yees! Breed me!”

 

 

That had him jerk against you so violently it nearly hurt, the most unhinged growl leaving him, “Say that again!” Your pleasure addled mind surely played a tick on you, as his eyes seemed to flash in a crimson colour for a second.

 

 

Though he didn’t leave any room for argument so you repeated your earlier sentiment, “Breed me! Please!”

 

 

Clark’s thrusts started to lose their rhythm, only goal now to make you come so hard you’d never forget what his cock felt like. So having carved out his own space within you, wasn’t for naught, meaning you could take him easier next time.

 

Your walls squeezed him even tighter, alerting him of your impending orgasm, “That’s it come on my cock, like a good girl!”

 

 

Trying to blink away the blurriness, you suddenly felt like you were floating then the taunt band within, snapped. Crying out his name over and over again, as he kept pounding you through your orgasm. “Fuck, gonna, gonna… fill you up so much...” You mewled in response, “Yes, please…”

 

And with your still convulsing cunt surrounding him, he came. Painting your insides white. Hot cum filling you up further, but there wasn’t much room left, so you felt it ooze out as he pumped his cock inside you a few more times, before pulling out.

 

Clark gently set you down on the cool counter, pressing his forehead against yours, beaming, “My sweet, sweet dove, you did so well.” Not having caught your breath yet, you nodded weakly, smiling back at him.

 

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Clark lifted you up with ease, walking through your apartment. Both of you, still stark naked.

👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓

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[seventeenreasonswhy]

Super Shy ~ A JWW School-Life Romance Pt. 2

Star Athlete!Wonwoo x Shy Wallflower!Reader

Jeon Wonwoo... THE Jeon Wonwoo is... paying attention to you!?

~700 words

read Part 1 here

Series content: fluff, first crush plot line, school-life anime vibes, slow burn/yearning, some light angst, classmates to friends to lovers, fem reader, reader is ~*super shy*~ and has low self-esteem, reader is kind of bullied (?), sweetie pie Wonwoo, appearances by Choi Hansol and more!, all characters are in high school so no explicit content (but probably kissing eventually).

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Author’s note: Thank you to everyone who read, reblogged, and liked Part 1!! This is a short Part 2, but the tension is setting in! I’m excited to hear what you think of this progression! Wonwoo is so school life anime leading man, I can’t!!! Enjoy!! 😊

Taglist: @clownprincehoeshi @soffiyuhh @wonwoos-wineparty @hamji-hae @junniesoleilkth @seokqt @haniinah-blog @yangtyunhannie @cherrylovescheol @lukeys-giggle @cookiearmy @sojuxxi @vixensss @lixisoul99 @mjpark15 @lelsforlino @neivivenaj (lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!)

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You liked to eat your lunch on the roof, even when it was kind of cold outside like today. It gave you a view of the campus—of the whole town, really. Everything felt more peaceful up there. You even dozed off sometimes, narrowly making it back to class in time.

You were lying down, looking up at the clouds and thinking about what kind of day-old snacks your uncle might be trying to get rid of at the convenience store tomorrow when you heard the door to the roof creak open. You bolted upright, looking behind you.

It was Jeon Wonwoo.

“Oh, you’re up here,” he said. “Sorry, I thought it’d be empty up here.” You stood up quickly and faced him, hastily brushing off your skirt. Your heart was pounding.

“Oh,” you said, unsure how to respond. “It’s okay, I’ll let you have it.” You started to gather up your things.

“No, no, it’s okay,” he said, taking wide strides toward you now as if he were going to get between you and your bag on the ground. You instinctively backed away from him but immediately regretted it, seeing that he stopped short.

“You were up here first,” he said, letting out a puff of laughter and gesturing for you to sit back down. His tone was so gentle... you decided to slowly sit back down.

He turned to look at the view of the town, taking a deep breath.

“It’s nice and quiet up here,” he said. You just nodded, so nervous you were unable to talk.

C’mon Y/N, relax! He’s just a classmate! This is normal! Be normal!! Your thoughts grew frantic, but Wonwoo simply took a seat, letting his long legs splay out a short distance away but still next to you. You watched as he took another deep breath and continued to gaze out at the view. He seemed content to just sit there in silence, flooding you with a sense of relief.

A few moments passed, the two of you just sitting there, taking in the view of the sky and allowing the cool, early-spring breeze to wash over you. Your heartrate started to slow back down.

You kept stealing glances at Wonwoo, hoping that he didn’t notice. He seemed deep in thought. Not to mention he kept taking deep breaths. Was something the matter? Should you ask him? No, it’s definitely none of my business, you thought. We don’t know each other like that. Anyway, if you were going to say something to him, it should be ‘thank you’ for helping with the whole homework-copying thing that morning.

But before you could muster up the courage to speak, the bell rang.

“Oh, wow,” Wonwoo said, glancing back toward the stairs, “I didn’t even realize the time was passing.” He laughed quietly, then looked right at you.

“Y/N,” he said, and your stomach lurched.

“...Yes?” you wished your voice would come out more confidently.

“Do you always spend lunch up here?” Wonwoo was looking at you so straightforwardly that it took you a second to understand him.

“Uh,” you started, unable to avoid feeling like a loser but also unable to avoid telling him the truth, “yeah, pretty much.”

“Mind if I join you next time?”

You could only gape at him like an idiot. Were you hearing him correctly?

“I mean, I understand if you’d rather be alone!” he added before you could even comprehend him, either ignoring or not minding your blatantly shocked reaction, “I don’t mean to intrude.”

“Oh, no...” you said, struggling to find the words and worried that you were coming off as standoffish. “I don’t mind.” You finally said, still not really able to make direct eye contact with him.

“Thanks,” he said, “it’s nice to just sit up here with you.”

Your face must have turned a dozen different shades of red, and you were relieved that he took that moment to turn toward the stairwell.

“See ya,” he said, waving at you over his shoulder.

You could only continue to stare blankly after him. You were probably going to be late for class, but you didn’t even care. It was like you were living in a dream.

Starting today, Jeon Wonwoo was going to spend time quietly sitting on the roof with you at lunchtime...!?

[halsteadlover]

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞

*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Connor Rhodes x Fem!Reader.

• Requested: yes by anon.

• Summary: Connor shows his possessive and jealous side and you love every bit of it.

• Warnings: jealousy, few curse words and I don’t know what else, please let me know if I missed any lol.

• Word count: 1930.

• A/N: I’m not sure about this one but here it is anyway since I was too lazy to write it all over again 😭 I hope you’ll like it, looking forward for your opinion. Comment, like and reblog, it’d would mean the world 💕 I love you all xx

Connor's first case since coming back to Med’s was fairly simple.

He thought that day would go uneventful. He thought.

An elementary school girl was taken to the ER after her teacher called 911 because of an intense abdominal pain and after an ultrasound it turned out to be a case of acute appendicitis.

“She’ll need surgery, where are the parents? We need their consent,” Connor had asked Natalie while they examined the little patient who was still writhing in pain. She was given a small dose of morphine to calm some of her excruciating pain.

At that same moment Maggie entered the room and Connor glanced at her as he tried to calm the little girl, whose name turned out to be Daisy. “Her teacher is here and asked about a doctor.”

“I'll talk to her,” Connor said and Natalie nodded.

Connor and Maggie exited the patient's room and his gaze fell on a figure near the nurses' station who was filling out some forms.

He tried to keep an expression as serious and impassive as possible even though internally a flock of butterflies had just exploded in his stomach.

There was no need to even take a double take, he would’ve recognized that figure even in a crowd of thousands of people. After all, how could he not recognize his own girlfriend?

You were a teacher and taught science in an elementary school but what were the chances that you would’ve been the little girl’s teacher?

You and Connor had been together for about few months them so none of his colleagues knew you existed yet. He had to act like he didn’t know you, like he didn’t want to breathtakingly kiss you right then and there.

He couldn't help but let his eyes wander over your body suppressing the innate desire to approach you and grab your ass like he always did.

He approached the nurses' station, hands shoved in his uniform pocket. “Ma’am.”

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard not a voice but his voice. You immediately tried to suppress the smile that threatened to appear on your face as well as the urge to giggle since he knew how much it annoyed you when he’d call you ‘ma’am’.

“It’s ‘miss’, actually.”

You said when you turned to him, pen still in your fingers as you gave him a polite smile and chuckling to yourself when you saw Connor press his lips together in an attempt not to burst out laughing.

“Nice to meet you miss, I’m doctor Rhodes. I’m treating Daisy.”

Your eyes quickly scanned his body, trying to maintain composure and not blush like a fourteen year old when thoughts about you and him in his bed that morning crept into your mind.

“How is she, doctor?” You asked, failing miserably at not giving him a little mischievou smile.

“Unfortunately I cannot discuss my patient's health status with people outside of her family. I wanted to ask you if you have by any chance notified her parents? We need to talk to them,” he replied in a professional tone although the way his eyes shone as they spoke to you and the way he couldn't help but check you out gave him away.

Maggie and April, who were there at the time and witnessing your conversation, couldn't help but exchange a knowing look.

They had both thought the exact same thing.

There was no way you and Connor didn't know each other.

It was so obvious and even funny how you both tried to maintain a professional and unemotional facade. But the way he looked at you, the way his eyes had never left yours, the way his body was totally turned towards you and in which he seemed to be imperceptibly drawn continuously towards yours had revealed there was no way in hell that he didn't know you.

But it was also how your head was tilted slightly as you spoke to him, how you kept touching your hair, how you batted your eyelashes and the shadow of a smile that never left your lips that had given definitive confirmation that you two knew each other very well.

And not talking about the fact you two were blatantly flirting.

“I came here in a hurry so I didn't have time to call them, but I'll do it right away,” you had said and Connor had nodded, trying to keep himself from following you with his eyes as you walked away to make the call but failing miserably.

“Connor oh my god! What was that?!” April screamed/whispered, approaching Connor with Maggie, a look of pure surprise and amazement on both their faces. “You know her?!”.

Connor shrugged nonchalantly. “N-no of course not.”

“Oh come on we saw the way you looked at each other, you clearly know her and there is definitely something going on!” Maggie retorted.

“She's just a good looking woman, that's all,” Connor remarked even if ‘good looking’ didn’t even come close to how gorgeous you were.

All his attention though had shifted from Maggie and April for a moment, his eyes falling on the two doctors that were talking as they looked through some patients' medical records.

He saw the direction of their gaze, hearing the comments about the object – or rather the person – that had attracted their attention.

“Man if she was a stripper I would’ve spent my whole salary on her, did you see that ass?”. One of them had confessed to one of them while he was pretending to fill out the medical records even though he was watching you like a hawk while you were talking on the phone.

“I would’ve never skipped a class if I had a teacher as hot as her,” the other continued laughing.

“You think she has someone?”.

“Oh I hope not, but if it is he is a damn lucky bastard.”

Connor clenched his hands into two fists, almost having a brain aneurysm.

A wave of jealousy washed over him, every cell of his body exploding with anger at hearing the words directed towards you who unawarely continued to talk on the phone.

His jaw clenched as he struggled to stay calm, but God how much he wanted to beat the shit out of those two sons of bitches. He hated the way they looked at you, the way they made those disgusting comments about your body.

He hated it so much because that was the way he looked at you.

He was the only one who could make those comments about you, the only one who could have those sinful thoughts about you, the only one who could touch and admire you.

Your ass, your legs, your smile, your laugh, that twinkle in your eyes when you looked at him, that body, all of this were his.

It was as if his mind had gone into blackout, as if all his reasoning, judgment and common sense had just flown away because now all he could do was imagine the bastards' heads banging against the wall over and over again.

Drastic? Perhaps. Excessive? Probably. But Connor didn't give a fuck.

And it was in fact at that precise moment that he did something he’d never have thought of doing for anyone.

“Daisy's parents are…-” you announced as you ended the call and walked back to the nurses' station but stopped on your tracks when Connor came towards you, and a confused expression appeared on your face.

Your eyes widened and you almost had a heart attack when he grabbed your face and crushed his lips on yours.

He didn't give a shit.

Neither that you both were keeping your relationship a secret anymore, nor that you were in the middle of the ER, nor that everyone at that moment had stopped to witness that scene.

He wasn’t thinking clearly and in that moment it was that part of him with which he had never come face to face before that controlled him, that primitive and caveman part he was hating so much.

Even though that gesture had taken you completely by surprise, your body reacted before your mind could even understand what was happening, so you kissed him back, feeling your breath stopping in your lungs. Your hands slid up his chest and fisted his uniform as he wrapped his arms around your hips, sliding his hands down to your ass.

He didn't care he’d receive an endless scolding for what he was doing, he didn't care about the voices that commented the scene, he didn't care that everyone saw his hands squeezing your ass.

He didn't care because he wanted them to see, he wanted everyone to know you belonged to him, that he was the only one who could kiss you, fuck you, squeeze that stripper ass, that loved you.

You broke away from the kiss before the situation could escalate, your heart pounding and your legs shaking like jelly. “Babe oh my god…-”.

“You’re mine, you know that right?” He whispered. “Only mine.” His hands moved up from your ass back to your face and his thumbs caressed your cheekbones before placing a small kiss on his lips. “And I love you.”

Woah hold on.

Did he fucking say ‘I love you’? In an ER?

Wait. Connor loves me?

You looked at him in shock but you didn't have time to process and figure out what the hell was going on because he grabbed your hand and led you back towards the nurses' station, where Maggie and April's jaws were now on the floor.

“Meet my girlfriend, Y/n,” he announced, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close as you were about to faint. Your heart was beating so fast you feared you’d need a defibrillator to revive you sooner or later.

You were so shocked you couldn’t elaborate a word, fuck you couldn’t even think about one.

Connor's eyes focused on the two doctors that had been talking about you until recently but who at that moment were looking around embarrassed.

“You wanted to know if she was taken? Yes, she is. I’m the lucky bastard who gets to have her and now let me hear one more thing about my girlfriend, I fucking dare you.”

You looked with confusion at your boyfriend, then at the doctors he was glaring at, and then back at him. You had no idea what he was talking about and you were so dazed and confused that your mind didn't know what to process first.

From the way Connor’s hand was gripping your hip, the way he held you so close to him, and the way he glared at the two doctors, you imagined it was somehow about you. And although the embarrassment of being the center of attention made you want to be swallowed by the floor, you couldn't help but feel… Flattered.

Was this the right word?

You didn’t know.

You couldn't even describe it, but that jealous, protective side of him lit a fire inside you that burned every single fucking cell of your body.

You knew Connor always had this protective instinct towards you but knowing he had ‘marked his territory’ so blatantly, just to stop whatever they were saying, made you giggle to yourself like a teenage girl.

It was so damn hot and sexy, more than you would’ve ever expected.

And instead of thinking about how out of place or inappropriate that gesture was, the only thing you could think about as you looked at Connor was how good he was going to get it that night.

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivzs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @klovesreading, @firetruckstuckley

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[scarlethexelove]

Hello!! 👀

This is like an extension of something I’ve already requested. ‘You’re Mine Now’ was awesome

I absolutely love dark Agatha and if you’re okay with writing it, it’d be much appreciated 🙏🏻 Okay so… Maybe Agatha and Reader already have a dynamic that works for Agatha. Agatha is happy because Reader behaves very well so Reader is allowed to do more things in the house. Then, Reader watches on TV that her best friend is looking for her, it is like a switch is turned on and Reader wants to escape. Agatha realizes it and stops her. Agatha tells Reader that she (Agatha) couldn't let nobody take her precious treasure so she had to make that person disappear. Then fucks reader 🫣 Sorry this is pretty long but yeah! I would like to read it if you are okay with writing this. Totally cool if you’re not ofc

You're Not Going Anywhere

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word Count: 2088

Warnings: Dark!Agatha, Smut, Spanking, Restraints, Cum Strap, Rough Sex, Forced Submission, Dub/Con, No aftercare, Talks of murder, Choking (Not the fun way).

Part 1: You're Mine Now

A/n: I really hope you enjoy this nonnie. I tried to make her nice and dark with this one. I kind of feel the smut is kind of shit and I'm sorry about that.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

Soft sounds play through the air as you watch the tv. The room is dark only illuminated by the beams of light spilling from the sides of the curtains. You know it might not be the best idea to ignore Agatha’s wishes for you to clean the house but you just want to be lazy today. You haven’t even managed to get out of your pajamas today. Your mind barely focused on the tv as you almost stared pass the tv. 

Words start scrolling on the bottom of the tv as your program is interrupted, pulling your focus to the tv. You watch as the scene changes. A woman you find familiar talking to a news anchor appears on the screen. The words scrolling on the bottom states that a woman has been kidnapped and missing for six months. You look back up a picture of yourself now displayed on the side of the screen. It’s in an instant that your suppressed mind comes back to reality. That is your best friend. You’re the woman that is missing and people are looking for you. You hadn’t even noticed that you had been gone for six long months. You’re mind submitting to that of the older woman who has kept you captive. 

You quickly jump off the couch and look at the time. Three hours till Agatha comes home. You have time to pack some things and run. A few months back Agatha had removed some of the locks off the door to keep you here. You have become compliant with her wants and needs. No urge to run from the woman, only the thought of love for her keeping you there. You didn’t see the reason to run from someone taking such good care of you. But now it is like the spell is broken and you have to get away. You remember the horrible things that she did to get you here and you need to run now while you have a chance. 

You make your way into the bedroom grabbing some things. What you didn’t know is that Agatha was watching you. Camera’s scattered all around the house so she can watch you even while at work. She curses as she grabs her jacket leaving work and rushing home to you. If you think you can leave her you are wrong. She will just have to show you again who is in charge and who you belong to. 

Once you're done you finally turn around ready to leave but you hadn’t noticed the clicking of the door behind you. Startled when you see the older woman standing behind you. A gasp leaves your throat before a hand is placed around it. Squeezing tightly and walking you backwards. You grasp at the hand around your neck the more it squeezes. Digging your nails into her arm hoping that she will let go, but there is a fury in her eyes. 

“Please.” You whimper while still struggling against her. She slams your body back against the wall making you whimper more. “You think you can leave me, little girl? I own you. You’re not going anywhere.” Agatha hisses. You can feel yourself getting lightheaded the longer she holds your neck. The woman is much stronger than you so your struggle is futile, her grip never loosening. 

When your vision starts to blur and black spots appear in your vision Agatha finally loosens the grip. Tossing your body on the bed like a rag doll. You cough and sputter as air fills your lungs. Your hand placed against your neck feeling the tenderness of the flesh. Your voice is hoarse as you try to speak. “I just wanna go home.” A dark chuckle leaves the woman. “You are home sweet girl.” 

Agatha is on you in an instant, pulling the shackles out. You kick and scream trying your best to fight off the woman, but it is no use. She flips your body over easily so that you are laying on your stomach. Securing both of your ankles to the bed. She then moves and secures your wrist to the bed. Leaving your spread eagle on the bed. 

“I’m going to have to punish you baby girl.” Agatha’s hand smooths over the curve of your ass. You squirm as her hand touches you. She grabs your pants and underwear and pulls them down swiftly. Bunched up around your thighs as she grabs your ass harshly. “I think 20 each side will do. Now count whore.” Her voice is dark and dripping with venom. Agatha’s hand comes down hard. “O-one.” You cry out. Her hands are rough the more she slaps down hard on your ass.

Your tears stain the sheets below the longer she goes. Your ass is a bright red, tender and hot to the touch. You’re cries and screams only egging the woman on. You have stopped counting but she doesn’t seem to mind anymore. Relishing in the pleasure she gets from your pain. By the end you have no more fight left in you. Your body is already exhausted from the beating. “P-please. No more.” You whimper hoping the woman will hear you. She stops her hand smoothing over your ass which makes you cry out in pain. 

“Are you going to behave from now on?” Agatha asks you, her hands moving down to gently caress your tights. Her hand sliding between feeling that unmistakable wetness, smirking to herself. You nod your head, mind already fuzzy. Throat sore and scratchy from the beating you had just taken. She would normally ask you to speak up but she can see that the fight you had not that long ago is gone. 

You’re relieved when the bed feels lighter. Agatha shifting her weight and removing herself from the mattress. You can hear some shuffling and you turn your head trying to look. Tears still fall, blurring your vision slightly. You can’t see her but the bed dips again as a hand rubs your ass again making you whine and squirm. “So pretty like this.” Agatha leans down and whispers in your ear. 

Agatha’s weight shifts on the bed again. She moves between your legs. She grabs your pants and underwear that is on your thighs. You hear the sound of fabric ripping as she tears your clothes off of you. “You’re fucking mine you hear me?” Agatha leans over you, a weight slapping on your ass. You whimper and nod. “Yes. I’m yours.” She leans back up towering over you. “Good girl.” The weight that once sat on your ass she now swipes through your folds wet with your arousal. Spreading it up and down and coating her strap. 

You have no time to register Agatha’s actions as she lines up with your entrance and thrust the faux cock inside of you. You cry out at the deliciously painful stretch. It’s bigger than what you have taken before. She starts a hard and fast pace, fucking into your tight hole. “Fuck your taking me to well.” She slaps your ass again, enjoying the hiss of pain that leaves your lips. Her hand moving you and wrapping around the back of your neck pushing your face further into the mattress. 

Right now she doesn’t care about your pleasure, only her own. Fucking into you with reckless abandon. “So fucking tight no matter how many times I fuck you.” Her hips slapping against your ass making you whimper and moan. “You wouldn’t survive without me. Just a dumb stupid whore.” You’re already clenching around her strap the faster she drives her hips into you. Your pleasure heightened by the pain. 

Agatha leans over you pressing her front into your back still holding your face down rutting into you. “You fucking try to leave me again I’ll kill you. You don’t get another chance, little girl. I told you’re mine and if I can’t have you no one can. You know that little friend of yours? I saw that she was looking for you. I took care of that little problem. I saw her little TV stunt. I wanted to see what your dumb little brain would do if you knew so I recorded it. Let it play for you. So stupid thinking you could get away.” She whispers in your ear. More tears slip down your face. You’re trapped here forever you know the woman wouldn’t lie. You’re her property now and there is no one else left to save you. 

It is better to let your mind submit now. Let her be your one and only. You’ll be safer that way. “I’m sorry.” You whimper. “I-I’ll never try again. I’m you-yours.” She smiles, kissing your shoulder before leaning back up and pounding into you. Her hand still smacks against your ass occasionally. Your sounds spur her on to continue. 

You let all your thoughts melt away. Whimpers and moans fall from your lips, the squelching sound of Agatha pounding into your pussy mixing in. You submit as she pushes you into your subspace. Babbling how you are hers and sorrys for trying to leave. She just smirks above you. Her test didn’t go quiet as she hoped but she has you now. The perfect obedient little housewife. Cooking and cleaning for her then being the perfect little fleshlight for her to use. 

Agatha’s thrust becomes more erratic as the harness brushes against her clit perfectly. Her need to cum approaching fast. “Mmm fuck. I’m going to fill this little pussy. So fucking tight.” Her hands move to grip your waist digging in her fingers, sure to leave bruises behind. You’re confused by her words but that thought melts away when she hits that spot deep inside you. The sight of your tear stained face and your reddened ass cheeks sends her over the edge. As she cums her hand moves and you feel a gush of liquid fill you up. Your own orgasm then washing over you. 

The realization of what she meant as you feel so full. Cum leaking out around her strap as she doesn’t slow down. Continuing to pound into you roughly. “Aggie.” You whine hoping she will stop but she doesn’t. You can only see part of her but there is an animalistic look to her. She is going to keep filling you whether you want her to or not. Her thrust rough and hard as fucks you even further into submission. 

You don’t know how many times you cum or how many times she has filled you by the time she stops. You're both panting and sweaty messes. Your whole body hurts from her roughness and the marks she has left on you. You whimper when she removes her strap from your overstimulated aching core. She isn’t gentle about it like normal. She slaps your bruised ass once more before climbing off the bed. The mix of your cums leaking out of you onto the sheets below, as your gaping hole clenches around nothing trying to keep the cum in. 

Your eyes droop as your fuzzy mind listens for her movement around the room. You expect her to release you from your restraints and to clean you up. To place ointment on your bruised ass but it doesn’t come. “I’ve been so kind to you baby girl. Let’s see how you like it if I leave you as a mess. The dumb cumrag you were always meant to be. Maybe you’ll learn your lesson.” Agatha’s harsh tone filters through your ears. You cry out for her. You want her comfort and her soft touches. 

The door slams shut moments later leaving you in darkness. You continue to cry as your body shakes. You want her to come back to comfort you and tell you that you are her good girl. Promise you’ll never do it again. But your mind is tired as your struggle to stay awake. Your whimpers for the woman become quiet as you drift off into a deep sleep. 

What you don’t know is that Agatha is sitting on the other side of the door. Listening and watching you. An evil smirk playing on her lips. She has finally broken you completely and all it took was showing you that you can’t leave her. She had to punish you in order to break that last bit of hope deep in your mind. Soon she will have you as her perfect little housewife. Destined to be with her, tied to her forever.

[heyitsme1040]

Teddy Barnes [b.b]

summary : You make a bear resembling Bucky. You worry he’ll think having a bear based on your significant other will be weird, but Bucky’s delighted by your gesture. He wants to make a bear of you as well. 

pairings : Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings : None (if I missed anything let me know!)

word count : 610

AO3 (x)

a/n : Day fifteen of Comfortember is here! The prompt was ‘plushies’. This was very self indulgent.

You felt silly walking into your apartment. The mall had been busy, but you were determined when you arrived. You’d been confident when you walked in, excited as you made the bear, and now you felt silly. You entered the apartment, calling out a quick greeting to let Bucky know you were home. You heard the shower running, so you curled up on the couch. You stared at the bear you’d made today. It was soft, and you couldn’t help smiling at it. 

“Hi doll,” Bucky kissed your head as he walked through the living room. “How was the mall?”

“It was good,” you hugged the bear closer, trying to hide it. 

“I’m glad. Did you find what you needed?”

“Yeah,” you sheepishly responded. 

You heard Bucky grab a glass, then the tap running as he filled his cup. You wondered how weird he would find the bear you made. The soft bear comforted you from where you were squeezing it in your arms. Bucky’s quiet footsteps reached you before he walked into your view. He sat on the couch facing you, smiling as he pulled your legs into his lap. 

“Hi,” his hand strokes your ankle. 

“Hi,” you smiled back at him. 

“What’d you get?”

“Oh! I just went to Build-A-Bear.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed as he tilted his head, “Build-A-Bear?”

“Yeah, it’s this store. You go in, and choose an unstuffed bear. Or other animals that they have there. Then you get it stuffed, choose the heart that goes in it, and you can add a sound. Once it’s stuffed, you choose clothes for it before making a birth certificate. You make a customized bear,” you shrug at your explanation. 

Bucky nodded at your explanation. “So, what did you make?”

Your cheeks flushed as his attention was now focused on the bear in your hold. With an internal cringe, you pulled the bear away from you. Holding it to face Bucky, you offer the bear to him. Bucky took the dark brown bear. Looked at the little black henley that was under the denim vest, noticed the way you’d tucked the boots into its dark jeans. 

“I made a mini you,” you explained. “This is Teddy Barnes. And if you squeeze his paw…” You reached out and pressed the plastic box in its paw. Bucky’s voice came through with an ‘I love you, doll’ that you had saved in your voice memos. “I know it’s probably kind of weird, but I just thought it’d be nice for when you’re on missions. Or if I just wanted a cuddle and you were busy.”

“This is really sweet,” Bucky lightly laughed. “It’s adorable.”

You quickly tugged Teddy Barnes out of Bucky’s hold, hugging it tight against you once again. “You don’t have to say that,” you snap. “I know it’s probably really weird. But–”

Bucky’s lips pressed to yours stops your rant before it could start. His hands cupped your head, holding you in place. You felt all defensive instinct drain out of you from the soft movement of the kiss. Bucky pulled back to breath, pressing his forehead against yours. 

“I was being serious,” he panted. “It’s the sweetest thing anyone has done. I love it. I love you,” Bucky pressed another kiss to your flushed skin. 

“I love you,” you whispered past the emotions building in your chest.

“And now I really want to make one of you, too. Can keep it in my duffle during missions. Have it on the bed with Teddy Barnes when we go places. Can’t have them getting lonely when we’re busy, now can we?”

You smiled widely, nodding at his question. “That sounds great,” you giggle. 

Author’s Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.

[nanqmies]

Hi! I have a suggestion - how about Tsuchigomori who has a virgin s/o and how would their first time go? Can be either a drabble or headcanons. I've heard you're going to be inactive for a while so take as much time as you need! thank you!!

cw: gn reader, creampie, no genitalia mentions, desk sex, no prep in the 2nd one, i think thats all?

a/n: thanks for the suggestion nonnie!! This one wss so so yummy i had to write it, i love him sm!! hope you enjoy it my dear ₍^ >ヮ<^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ

wc: 0.5k

nsfw under the cut~

Tsuchigomori would definitely want it to be in a nice environment and not in his library (if its planned ahead of time) so I can imagine two scenarios here!!

Planned:

Tsuchigomori would lay on the sheets and kiss over your neck softly, his warm breath brushing over the skin of your neck. Gently running his hands over his body while keeping his eyes on you to check your reactions, he’d ask if you were ready for him,, ready for him to take away your purity and claim it as his own but of course you nod eagerly to his question. He’ll hook his long fingers under them hem of your pants and pull them down, savoring the sight of your sex. It’s for him.. And him only, the thought alone makes his cock stiffen in his slacks.

He leans down to gently spread your legs, leaning over to get the unopened bottle of lube from the beside table,,, you shiver at the cold feeling of the substance dribbling down your rear. He’d spread your hole to make way for his fingers, sliding one in makes you gasp softly. The feeling is unnatural to you so he softly reassures you sliding in another finger and beginning to pumps them in and out of your tight sex, just enough to get you accommodated with being stretched out. Tsuchigomori would fuck you on his fingers until you’ve came at least once before aligning the fat tip of his cock to your rim and forcing himself inside, whispering sweet nothings in your ears and saying how good you are for him. You’ll cling onto him as his shallow thrusts of his hips push his cock further inside you, he’d kiss away your tears when he finally finishes, filling you with his thick seed.

His hand pressed onto your tummy to feel you tremble in pleasure. You’d kiss him one more time before nuzzling into his comforting warmth neck and drifting off to sleep, his arms wrapped safely around you to pull you into his chest. Falling asleep after you just to make sure you’re comfortable.

Unplanned:

It’d probably happen after school is over, everyone is gone and he’s grading papers in his office. Nothing but silence and the soft sounds of his pen against the papers, you lean at the door frame and wait for him to notice you. It doesn’t take very long for him to invite you in the office for some coffee, talking about simple things while you converse of your coffee.

You two have always been rather close due to shared interests and knowledge on biology so when he offered to take your relationship more seriously you were ecstatic to agree. The conversation gets a bit more heated on the topic of Tsuchigomori’s type, he leans close and sends an unreadable look. “You.” His hand gently brushes the hair from your face and he smiles just barely.

Things would escalate quickly when he lifts you up on your desk and roughly presses his lips on yours, wanting to ravage you completely. Wanting to feel your soft fresh under his teeth, your wrists pinned behind your back and the tears dripping down your cheeks. He’ll spit on the base of his cock and spread it over his shaft, pressing himself inside your tight sex. You choke and squeeze his cock tightly, he smiles and slowly ruts his hips to get you used of the feeling of him inside. If you don’t want him to cum inside he’ll just do it over your tummy..

@nanqmies © 2024

please do not translate, steal or repost my work.

reblogs and feedback appreciated!

[minniesmutt]

❤︎ ━━━ BBQ

❤︎ ━━━ SS + WC: 1 + 0.4K

❤︎ ━━━  CW: SEX TALK, ONE DICK JOKE

     Seungmin reread the messages he had Ari had sent as they waited for Hyunjin to get to the BBQ place. He had zero clue how to respond and felt a little bad leaving her on read for so long— even if it’d been about an hour.

     His fingers hovered over his keyboard. Hoping something would come out of his fingers. Ari was nice, he didn't get any weird vibes from her and hadn't been like anyone else in his DM’s

     “Do it,” Chan said from across him

     “Do what?” he asked, looking up from his screen 

     “Whatever you’re thinking. Do it.” Chan smiled

     “I agree,” Changbin said, currently grilling some of the meat next to Seungmin

     “I don't even know what I'm thinking,” Seungmin sighed as he locked his phone and put it on the table

     “Obviously you’re thinking about Ari,” Changbin said

     “Yeah,” Seungmin rubbed the back of his neck

     “Just ask her what the relationship is like. It doesn't seem like she's forcing you to be in the dynamic. Just saying if you wanna try she’s willing to do it with you.” Chan said

     “I don't wanna seem like I don't know about it.”

     “Seem you don't know what?” Hyunjin asked as he took a seat next to Chan

     “He’s thinking about Ari,” Changbin answered

     “Did you answer her?” Hyunjin asked as everyone started to grab food 

     “Not yet,” Seungmin told him

     “Why? If you don't want her I’ll start doing porn and take her,” Hyunjin said

     “You’re the one that’s blocked,” Seungmin reminded him

     “Her loss,” Hyunjin shrugged

     “Who stroked your ego?” Chan asked the dancer

     “Y/n. Wasn't just my ego she stroked,” Hyunjin smiled

     “Gross,” Seungmin said

     “How come you don't like her, Min? Aren’t you guys in the same classes for your major?”

     “She’s too nice. I don't trust it. She doesn’t like me either so,” the youngest there at the moment shrugged

     “She doesn't like you because you don't like her,” Hyunjin said

     “How do you know?” Chan asked

     “We didn't have sex the whole summer. There were times we just hung out and talked. You guys came up a few times. She's fun to hang out with, even when sex isn’t involved.”

     “What did I walk into?” Jeongin asked as he joined the group. 

     “We were talking about Ari then we started talking about Y/n,” Changbin answered

     “Please don't talk about sex while we're eating,” Jeongin sighed as he grabbed some meat. 

     “Alright. How are classes for you guys?” Chan asked 

     “I’d rather talk about sex,” Jeongin interjected again. 

     The group laughed as Seungmin looked down at his screen, a few Twitter notifications popping up. 

     ‘Fuck it,’ he thought

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