#stay tuned for more posting at. some point. probably.

[ochrefic]

Tell us about the sin-eater AU!

anon you complete me

this barely even discusses the actual story because there’s so much setup. the sin eater au has very complicated lore for something which is mostly about everyone suffering a lot. i apologize in advance

this is a modern world with magic, but it’s not very powerful. the average person mostly interacts with it in the form of purchased physical objects. the average person is able to sense magic— for instance, walking up to an enchanted object, one can likely sense the power, the temperament, and the purpose of the enchantment. they can also tell some things about other people’s internal magic.

everyone has internal magic. if you don’t it is because you are dead. your internal magic is affected by a lot of things. sometimes your physical health but mostly mental nonsense*. it can get corrupted due to the aforementioned mental nonsense, which is a tiny bit unfun.

(*this is debated** in-universe, we will come back to that in a later post)

(**"debated", we’ll come back to that in a later post)

the vast majority of people cannot do anything with their internal magic. they have no way to access it in a conscious manner. a few people are able to consciously access their magic— “magic users”.. this is sort of but not totally genetic, but in any case you cannot become a magic user on purpose. you have it or you don’t.

having access to your internal magic is mostly not a good thing. there are very few Actual Magicians because trying to do anything notable with it means studying it as a discipline, which is like learning engineering and law at the same time while going to trade school on the weekends. if you don’t want to go to superhell college, you can practice a reasonable amount and then you can do silly little party tricks. which is cool and fun!

however.

a person’s body can only contain so much magic. if you are normal and don’t have any way to consciously access yours, your body handles it for you— you’ll gradually produce more if you lose it, you won’t end up with more magic than you’re supposed to have, everything will be chill and fine.

if you are a magic user, you are theoretically capable of decreasing your internal magic via performing spells, so your body decides not to be helpful. if you have somehow acquired too much magic, you gotta get rid of it on your own.

magic users can mess with the magic of non-users. you can give magic to someone or take it away from them.

again, normal people can’t use their own magic but can perceive the magic inside of objects or other organisms. some people can use magic, which may not be good for them. here’s a third category for you to remember: a small number of people are completely unable to perceive magic at all— they are “magicblind”. this is mostly not a problem.

*****

after Many Words, we have arrived at the prologue.

john’s family belongs to a religious community which is toeing the line between “slightly weird people with unethical beliefs” and “cult”. they are christian but most of their theological beliefs aren’t super relevant

things they believe which are relevant and (very) controversial:

magic is ‘witchcraft’, which means it is evil and bad.

having corrupted magic is a sign of having sinned, and to cleanse yourself of that sin you must remove the corrupted magic.

being a magic user means that you have been chosen to act as the eater of sin for your community; this is, supposedly an honor. it is your duty to listen to the wrongdoings of your community members, to take their corrupted magic from them, and to keep it inside yourself literally forever. you are not allowed to say no.

john was eleven when he finally got caught shaking sparks from the ends of his fingers. he was twelve when he started taking sins. he was twelve, and the parents of his schoolmates were telling him about how they drink too much and they yell at their wife and they beat their children and they wish their spouse was dead, and he would take their hands and look them in the eyes and scoop out the rotten twisted bits of their magic and bury them inside himself as deeply as he could.

after a while it started to show no matter how much he tried to hide it. corrupted magic doesn’t smell, exactly, but it produces a similar sense of repulsion. his schoolmates began to look at him with disgust. their parents began to fear him. he moves his bedroom to the top floor of the house because his aura keeps his siblings from falling asleep. his mother doesn't touch him anymore.

it began to make him sick, eventually. it is a sickness that cannot be chased away, and one for which he gets no sympathy. it is a duty and it is an honor and he does as he is told. he is resigned to it. but it is a very lonely and painful path to walk. he cannot imagine anything else, but there is very little light left in his days. other than duty there is very little left to live for.

until the new foster kid with flyaway hair and ripped denim trousers sits next to him without seeming even to notice what he is.

[raymoo--hackery]

THE BEAST!!

I might fiddle around more with the colours at some point, but for now (after double checking every little detail a million times) I think she is done :)

Lineart only as well as a list of albums I'd listened to while drawing under the cut

plz listen to Kiss Kiss btw I love the music so so much <3

[kaiowut99]

Finalized!GX 122-123 Update:

Our food's important, so no stealin' allowed! 🍞♥

[a-simple-spiders-oc-dump]

quick post just to say I've loaded up the queue again with 22 more posts!! so prepare to get almost a full month of daily lore drops about these guys lmao

[sunshineyuyu]

chained (c. jh)

★ summary: jongho wears a silver chain that you’re obsessed with, and you finally get his attention after some calculated flirting with yunho and some beer pong. ★ pairing: jongho x f!reader (ft. yunho) ★ genre: friends to lovers, college, smut (mdni!) ★ word count: 5.4k ★ tags/warnings: alcohol consumption, vaginal fingering, jongho calls reader babygirl and yunho calls reader princess, features friend!san and previous hookup!yunho, some jealousy/tension, reader also kinda uses yunho… but he’s okay with it, lowercase ★ notes: beta’d by the bestie @starhwas-bunny. there may or may not be a yunho prequel coming soon hehehehe. also please let me know if i’ve missed any warnings! ★ masterlist | read on ao3 | part 2

you feel your eyelids droop, heavy from the burden of attempting to stay away in this godforsaken class. it doesn’t help that the seats in this lecture hall are so damn comfortable: plush and tall enough for full back and neck support and a slight give that lets you lean back. you’re one lecture slide away from calling it a day—even though class started just ten minutes ago—when you feel something at your left shoulder.

it’s choi jongho, leaning closer towards you over the armrest dividing your seats. 

hot, attractive choi jongho, with broad shoulders and strong arms and thick thighs. 

you stare adamantly at your laptop screen, at the blank google doc open, at the blinking cursor teasing you for almost falling asleep. you focus on literally anything except jongho’s overwhelming presence at your side–the subtle scent of his musky shampoo, his hot breath fanning over your shoulder.

 the silver chain that he normally hides behind the collar of his shirt hangs out, dangling in a way that has you imagining a different scenario: your string lights illuminating the outline of his body while he presses you into the mattress with his weight, one hand gripping your waist and the other on the headboard, that goddamn silver chain swinging above you while he—

“late night last night?” jongho says, voice low because you’re in class, and deliciously deep. it’s unintentionally sultry, and you find yourself squeezing your thighs together.

“shut up,” you say. “i was finishing an essay.”

jongho hums, and you start to aimlessly copy down the words of the lecture slide. you know that jongho sees right through you; the slides will be posted online later, so there’s no point regurgitating the content.

but you cannot let yourself look at jongho, because you’d probably try to kiss him right then and there.

“weren’t you with yunho?” he says.

“not like that,” you grit out. “we’re just in the same class so he was helping me.”

jongho hums, and he finally returns to the confines of his own seat. you let out a breath of relief. you continue copying down words from the powerpoint, even letting yourself tune into the professor’s voice; at least you’re wide awake now, a nagging feeling of want coursing through you.

you feel a nudge at your other elbow. this presence is comfortable, familiar. it’s san, your first friend at university who is conveniently the same major as you. even though he’s just as big and built as jongho, he’s less intimidating. he’s soft and nice, and he’s showing you a topical meme on his phone from  some computer science joke twitter account.

unfortunately, jongho notices san’s phone turned towards you and leans over again, except this time he’s closer, his shoulder brushing against yours as he tries to make sure he’s also included in the joke.

“i don’t get it,” he says.

“it’s because you’re not actually a computer science major,” you say, rolling your eyes and pushing jongho back into his seat—you exert more effort than you anticipated because of how solid jongho is.

“tsk,” jongho says. “at least i actually understand what’s going on in this class.”

this shuts you up, and you go back to glaring at your laptop and reformatting your bullets because you’ve already lost track of the lecture.

you last another fifteen minutes of attempting to pay attention, before you resign yourself to scrolling through instagram and mentally planning how you can coerce jongho into sharing his immaculately organized notes.

in the final minute of class, the whole class begins unceremoniously packing up, even though the professor is still droning on about greedy algorithms. everyone shuffles out of their row and through the doors at the back of the lecture hall, and jongho falls into step with san, talking about working on the homework tonight. you walk a step behind them, because your legs are shorter and because you want plausible deniability while admiring the shear breadth of jongho’s shoulders.

you leave the lecture hall, and san heads to the academic quad for his next class.

“see you later,” you say to him and jongho, who usually has to work at the library after class, but you notice him following you to the coffeehouse.

“don’t you have work?” you say.

“i changed my schedule,” jongho says. “are you gonna go work at the cafe?”

you nod, and he follows you to the campus coffeehouse where you stand in a fifteen minute line. jongho only gets drip coffee, so you end up ordering something frivolous to make the wait worth it. the two of you squeeze into a small table in the corner, your knees constantly brushing against each other as you read over the essay you wrote last night in a red bull induced haze.

most of it is thankfully salvageable, and the hit of caffeine helps you.

every once in a while, you find yourself glancing over the top of your laptop at jongho. at the lines of concentration etched into his handsome, tanned face. how his hair is getting scruffy and how he pouts when he’s deep in thought.

you’re so hopelessly in love with choi jongho.

at some point, he gets up to get a napkin, and when he returns, he doesn’t sit back down in his own seat. no—instead he hovers behind you, invading your space with one hand on the back of your chair and the other stretched onto the table to keep himself stable.

and that chain—that goddamn silver chain dances over your shoulder again.

“what do you want?” you mumble, skin prickling at the sensation of his proximity.

“this is not bad,” jongho says, eyes skimming over your essay.

“what’s with the tone of surprise?” you retort.

jongho shrugs. “just thought you would’ve been distracted last night.”

you finally chance a look at him, if only to stare at him puzzled until it finally clicks. you shove him off—subconsciously admiring, once again, just how solid he feels.

“for the last time,” you say. “it’s not like that. yunho’s just a friend.”

jongho sits back down, patting the napkin on a part of his laptop.

“good.”

you stop typing and gape at jongho, who’s returned to focusing on his own work. did he- did he just—? your brain works at miles a minute, offering bold assumptions and then instantly refuting them and then rebutting those and then raising new anxieties and then being hopeful and then—

you spend the rest of the time at the coffeehouse overanalyzing one word you’re not even sure you heard.

⋆⋆⋆

the three of you are sat around the coffee table in the living room of jongho and san’s apartment on the west side of campus. their apartment has become the haven for your discrete math class, where jongho blesses you and san with his knowledge in a class he’s taking pass/fail that isn’t even a major requirement for him. their apartment also has plenty of alcohol for when the nights get particularly rough and a good stash of unhealthy stacks.

it’s 1 am now, and the three of you have finished three out of five of the homework questions, eaten five packets of ramen, two sleeves of strawberry pocky, downed six bottles of yakult, and watched an eighteen minute youtube video theorizing that bakugou might become the second user of one for all.

you’d consider this a productive night.

now, you’re perched on the couch, san leaning against your legs while you play with his hair. it’s softer than yours, which frustrates you to no end because you know for a fact that he uses 5-in-1—how are there even five things to incorporate into one bottle?

jongho’s in the kitchen, contemplating a late night—or early morning—beer.

“seonghwa’s throwing a party this weekend,” jongho says, when he returns with another bottle of yakult instead of the beer. the bottle is already small, but it’s positively dwarfed by the size of his hands.

“if seonghwa’s hosting, then yunho will be there,” jongho continues. he looks pointedly at you.

“i thought,” you say, tugging a little on san’s hair and earning a sharp shout of pain, “we established that i don’t. like. yunho.””

“but didn’t you hook up with him?” san says, removing himself from your vindictive fingers and rubbing his scalp. as he sits up to look at you, he instantly regrets bringing up this point as you glare daggers at him. he’s not wrong; you and yunho had hooked up once, at the birthday party of an acquaintance, after seeing jongho chatting up some other pretty girl.

“you guys hooked up?” jongho says, breaking the stare-off you’re having with san for betraying your trust like that.

“it didn’t mean anything,” you say quickly, glancing up at jongho and double-taking at the shadow that’s fallen over his expression. how his jaw looks tensed and his eyes narrowed.

“but you guys hooked up,” he repeats.

“just the one time,” you say, not quite understanding why it feels like you’re being accused of something far worse than a hookup between two consenting and single adults. “we were high and he was just there and it happened.”

“when?” jongho says, continuing the interrogation and maintaining eye contact with you while san switches his attention between the two of you, the instigator but certainly not the mediator of this conversation.

“at yeji’s birthday party,” you say. 

“so that’s why we had to pick you up from the burger place on 8th,” jongho says. “because you were at his place.”

“yeah,” you say. “but it literally does not matter because i don’t like him. we’re just friends, and i’m not gonna hook up with him again.”

jongho stares at you.

“good.”

there it is again. that word, said under his breath. barely there, but enough that you feel a mix of doubt and hope.

you hate it.

“hey!” san says, forcefully cheerful in a way that means he’s trying to change the subject to diffuse the situation. “i found another my hero theory video. the one has 100k views!”

you drop jongho’s gaze first, letting your attention shift to the video san has pulled up on his laptop. “i just don’t think my hero is that deep,” you sigh, trying to ignore the way you can still feel jongho’s eyes on you.

“well, 100 thousand people do,” san sniffs. “including me.”

finally, jongho takes the bait. “how long is it?” he asks.

“thirty minutes!” san says cheerfully.

you and jongho both groan, but dutifully allow san to press play.

over the next thirty minutes, you tune in and out of the overdramatic video as you turn over the previous conversation in your head. you can’t help but read into the situation: clearly jongho is bothered that you’re close with yunho and hooked up with him once. in fact, he’s so bothered that you could even interpret it as being… jealous. 

but if he is, why doesn’t he do anything about it?

you’re half asleep by the time the video ends. san nudges you and gives you an sheepish, apologetic smile.

“it’s late,” he says. “do you want us to drive you home?”

“nah,” you say. “can i just stay over? i’m too tired to move.”

it’s not your first time staying over. your apartment is on the other side of campus, so after most long nights of working you sleep on the couch. san lets you borrow the same old high school volleyball shirt every time, and you slip into it and pull off your jeans. the shirt is thankfully long enough to cover your butt, and the no-pants thing has never been a problem.

until now, when you step out of the bathroom, and jongho’s just entering his bedroom, and he looks at you. you clearly see his eyes roam down your legs before springing back up to meet yours.

“let me get you a pillow and blanket,” he says, voice gruff and deep.

“san’s getting—”

“let me get you a pillow and blanket,” he repeats.

it feels like an olive branch, and you fall asleep surrounded by jongho’s scent. distinctly masculine and musky and oddly soothing.

⋆⋆⋆

when you wake up the next morning, it’s to the sound of whirring from the kitchen. from your spot on the couch, you can vaguely make out the blurry shape of someone in the kitchen. your hand flails around the coffee table, blindly slapping until you find your glasses and shove them onto your face.

it’s jongho, wearing gray sweats and no shirt, leaning against the counter while making coffee. you take the time to admire his back, feeling your cheeks warm as you do. in all honesty, you’re surprised that this is the first time you’ve ever seen him shirtless, and you’d be dumb not to take advantage of it.

you run your eyes over the contours of the muscles in his back, the way they flex and ripple as he crosses and uncrosses his arms.

you yawn and wipe at the sleep still in your eyes. this noise gets to jongho, and he turns around. this action draws a sound out of you, something that comes from the back of your throat, somewhere between a gasp and a groan. because jongho—

jongho’s shirtless, and he’s facing you, his naked torso completely exposed to you. you stare at that goddamn silver chain, nestled against his substantial chest. at the miles and miles of smooth, tanned skin and his fucking arms.

you clap a hand over your mouth and pretend to yawn again.

“you want coffee?” jongho calls.

“yeah,” you manage to say, while laying back onto your back and averting your eyes to the ceiling.

a little while later, you hear jongho pad towards you and you sit back up again. he gives you a mug of coffee and sits down at the opposite end of the couch, leaning back and stretching out his offensively nice upper body. the light from outside peeks in from the blinds of the large balcony windows and bathes his skin in golden stripes.

“is san—?”

“he’s at his 8 am,” jongho says. “when’s your first class again?”

“not until 10:45,” you say. “i’m gonna go home and shower and stuff first.”

“i’ll give you a ride,” jongho says.

you protest politely, mostly because you don’t know if you’ll be able to stand being in such a small space with him, especially when he drives a sleek black mercedes with silky black leather that’s just begging for someone to ruin with some steamy car sex.

but jongho manages to convince you that he needs to drop by the convenience store on the east side of campus anyway, so you find yourself following him down to the apartment parking lot, wearing yesterday’s clothes and hair tied up in a bun to disguise how oily it is.

when he backs out of his spot, he does that thing: wraps his arm around the back of your seat and backs out with one hand. it’s disgustingly attractive.

you sink lower into the heated seat, staring out the window to avoid daydreaming about car sex with jongho.

⋆⋆⋆

you do end up going to seonghwa’s party that friday, after your girlfriends unceremoniously invite themselves into your apartment carrying a huge case of peach soju and a twelve pack of beer.

after a beer and two shots of soju, you’ve changed into a crop top, a silky leopard print skirt, and cute black boots. 

thankfully, seonghwa’s place is only a block away from your apartment, but you and your friends still find a way to get lost on the way there. it takes ten minutes longer than necessary, but you’re finally crashing into the living room of seonghwa’s townhouse.

it’s already packed, but roomy enough that you can move freely without having to slide against other sweaty and drunk people. you break off from your friends to seek out san (and jongho). as you pass the kitchen, you swipe a red solo and a meager amount of whatever mixed drink atrocity they’ve made for the night that you immediately water down. you’re man enough to acknowledge that you’re a lightweight, and you’ll be damned if you end the night puking into a toilet rather than flirting with jongho.

you find san first. he’s lurking near the beer pong table, leaning against the wall and talking to wooyoung. you sneak up on him and he jumps when you give his side a big poke.

“san!” you say, wrapping him a big hug. you’re known to be more affectionate with alcohol in your system. after san clumsily returns your hug to avoid spilling his drink on you, you release him and give wooyoung a similar hug.

“where’s jongho?” you ask, standing on your toes to speak directly into san’s ear.

san points to the other side of the pong table, where you see jongho huddled in a corner with some blonde girl who looks suspiciously like the one from yeji’s birthday party. your reaction is immediate, something joining the alcohol to course through your veins—something fiery and prickling. jealousy, you think numbly.

“we’re playing next,” san says. “me and jongho. you should stay to watch.”

you hum noncommittally, peering at the ids lined up on the pong table and seeing only jongho’s. an idea strikes you, and you give san a peck on the cheek and some excuse about using the bathroom.

you wander back through the crowd of people, occasionally saying hi to people you know as you seek out one individual in particular. you find him on the couch, arm hung lazily on the back, hovering behind some girl. he’s clearly chatting her up, leaning close to her ear and hooded eyes making generous peeks at her cleavage.

you down the rest of your diluted mixed drink and throw yourself at him.

“yunho!” you cry, squeezing into the small space between him and the arm of the couch, meaning you’re basically sitting on him. “thank you so much for helping me with the essay! i definitely would’ve failed without you.” you flutter your eyelashes at him and simper.

the girl scowls visibly, crossing her arms in a way that makes her tits swell, but yunho barely notices—you know he has a sweet spot for you ever since that one night stand, and besides, he could get any girl he wants.

“y/n,” yunho says, shifting his body so that his back is to the girl now. she scoffs and leaves. “you good?”

“i’m great,” you giggle.

“you look good,” yunho says, shamelessly running his eyes over your figure.

“let’s play beer pong,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“you think you’re good for pong?” he says, a little dubiously as you let out a hiccup.

“yeah, because i know you’ll carry,” you say.

“alright, princess,” he says. “let’s go.”

you tumble off of him and pretend to be wobbly on your feet to let him steady you as you walk towards the beer pong table. yunho slips his wallet out of his pocket and slides his id onto the table to get in line to play the winner.

when he notices jongho, yunho lets out a chuckle.

“ah, y/n,” he says, catching your wrist and pulling you into him. “i see what’s happening.”

your cheeks heat up at being caught so quickly. “i’m sorry,” you say sincerely. “he keeps bringing you up and being weird, but now, he’s got that girl with him…”

“don’t worry, princess,” yunho says. “i know how to put on a show.”

jongho and san are playing now, and it looks like they’re winning. that same chick from before is hanging off of his arm, acting like a cheerleader. you catch jongho’s gaze, and the cheery smile he’s wearing slips off immediately when he notices yunho behind you, hands on either side of your waist.

you shiver as jongho gives you a salacious up-down that has you convinced you’ve pressed the right buttons to make something happen tonight. you giggle, tugging your lower lip in between your teeth and leaning a little closer to yunho.

something must snap inside jongho, because he and san end the game with three cups in quick succession. the losers slink off, as you and yunho take their place. yunho reracks the cups and refills them with a thin layer of beer. jongho rolls a ping pong ball towards you. 

“eyes,” he says.

when yours lock onto his, you smirk. he grimaces.

to decide who gets to start, you have to hold eye contact with each other and try to make a cup. whoever makes one first gets to start the actual game. jongho misses, but you don’t, so you and yunho get to go first.

you and yunho go toe to toe with jongho and san, which is surprising considering how little beer pong you play. by the fourth turn, the blonde girl has left, unsatisfied with the lack of attention she’s received from jongho. by the seventh turn, you and yunho have two cups left, and jongho and san have three.

yunho goes, and makes the first. you cheer and jump up to plant a wet kiss on his cheek. he steps behind you, massaging your shoulders theatrically. you close your left eye, lining up your shot. just as you’re about to let go of the ball, you turn around and pull yunho down to your height.

“give me a good luck kiss!”

he smiles into the kiss, which turns out to have a lot more tongue than you’d expected, but yunho is a good kisser so you don’t mind.

“let’s go, princess,” yunho says, slapping your ass as you turn back to the pong table.

jongho’s positively glowering at this point, and you smirk at him as you map out your shot again.

you miss.

you’re not entirely surprised.

yunho’s not even mad, and begins grossly comforting you with arms wrapped around your shoulders and kisses to the crown of your head.

jongho and san make the last two cups easily.

“too bad, princess,” yunho says into your hair. “you were doing so well.”

you pull yourself out of his grasp. “bathroom,” you explain sheepishly. yunho gives you a knowing look and a wink.

you’ve been to seonghwa’s house enough to know about the secret bathroom on the second floor that he doesn’t allow partygoers to use, so you slink up the stairs when million dollar baby starts playing and the crowd swells with renewed enthusiasm.

just as you’re closing the door behind you, a shoe shoots out to stop the action. someone pushes the door back open, and who else but—

jongho.

“i thought you said you didn’t like yunho,” he hisses down at you.

“i need to pee,” you reply, cocking your head to one side and widening your eyes at him.

he considers you for a second before stepping inside the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

“alright,” he says. “pee.”

“i don’t- are you going to watch me?” you say.

“didn’t seem like you minded people seeing you and yunho all wrapped up downstairs,” jongho says, crossing his arms over his chest, and you hate the way his biceps bulge when he does.

“that’s different from- from peeing,” you mumble.

“fine,” jongho says, and he turns around to stare at the bathroom door.

you’re not entirely satisfied, but you really do need to pee, so you pull down your underwear and sit on the toilet.

it’s awkward, but at least the music and noise downstairs mask the sound. you end up peeing for a surprisingly long time, and even jongho feels the need to break the tension with a poorly timed,

“damn, you’re like a waterfall.”

“i’ve had a lot to drink tonight,” you snap.

“you’re that drunk?”

“no—i’m drinking water, too, you bastard,” you say, finally finished. “don’t want to be hungover tomorrow.”

you flush and wash your hands, and then you’re leaning against the sink and saying, “okay, you can turn around.”

he does. “so. yunho?” he prompts again.

“i told you,” you say, staring directly above jongho’s shoulder. “i don’t like him.”

“then why were you all over him?”

“why do you care?” you sneer.

“just answer the question, y/n,” jongho says.

“why are you so obsessed with yunho?” you say. “if you want to fuck him, be my guest! i won’t get in the way.”

this hits a sore spot, because jongho moves quickly, crowding you into the sink in one step.

“it’s not him i want to fuck,” he breathes.

your breath hitches in your throat. you feel your heartbeat in your mouth.

“what do you mean,” you say, mouth unbelievably dry.

“c’mon, y/n,” jongho says, voice husky. he’s looking at you, eyes darting to your lips. “you can figure this out.”

it’s the same phrase he always uses when you’re struggling through a discrete math problem that he’s already solved, but normally he’s nice, barely teasing.

right now, he sounds downright condescending.

so, you snap. you grab him by his chain and tug him down to your height, slot your lips over his and kiss him.

his lips are nice. soft. he tastes like minty chapstick and bitter beer. his tongue slips into your mouth, and suddenly the kiss takes a turn from intense to lewd.

his hands find your waist, his palms burning into the exposed skin between your crop top and your skirt. his thick thigh pushes apart your legs, and your skirt rucks up above your hips. you gasp and break away to tug at the hem, but jongho stops you.

“that’s counter productive,” he whispers.

“okay,” you say. “i’ll be productive then.” and you pull off your crop top to reveal a lacy black bra and pull up your skirt all the way to reveal a matching lacy black thong. you hear jongho inhale, and then a deep chuckle.

“fuck,” he says, drawing out the word. he meets your eyes again. “you’re so fucking hot.”

“that’s you,” you say.

he dives back in to mouth at your pulse point, as his hands slip down to your ass, palming the flesh and leading you to grind against his thigh. he’s flexing, and the fabric of your underwear is thin and you can already feel a wet patch spreading, and the combination along with the friction of the movement has you moaning.

“that’s what i like to hear.”

you hear the muted opening strums of mr.brightside just as jongho’s thumb begins circling your clit over your underwear. you moan into his shoulder and buck against his hand. he continues to work you until the crotch of your panties is practically soaked, and you’re a whining mess. 

“p- please,” you whisper, fingernails digging into his shoulders.

“since you asked so nicely,” he murmurs, and he’s drawing aside the lace and pushing two fingers into you. you throw your head back at the feeling of being filled and stretched; his fingers are long and thick, nothing like your own or any of your previous hook-ups.

“shit, you’re so wet,” he says, pulling back to watch his fingers fucking you. the sound it makes is positively vulgar, and you pant with every motion. at some point, he starts curling his fingers so that they hit that perfect spot in the back and rubbing his thumb across your clit, and you can feel your high building.

“fuck, jongho,” you whine. 

“shit, babygirl, you’re gonna make me cum in my pants if you keep talking like that,” jongho says, smiling into your neck.

“don’t,” you say. “you can- you can- please, fuck me. you can- cum in me.”

jongho stops, only the tips of his fingers teasing at your entrance, and you whimper as your pussy clenches around nothing.

“are you serious?” he asks, as you circle your hips in an attempt at some relief.

“yes,” you hiss.

“fuck, babygirl,” jongho says, taking a step back and a new glint in his eyes.

but just as he puts his hand on the button of his jeans, there’s a sharp rap on the door that makes both of you jump.

“oi! this bathroom is off-limits!” it’s seonghwa, and to be fair, he’s right. 

“give us a second!” jongho calls, wincing at the subtext. you jump off of the bathroom sink, swaying a little with how jittery your legs are. jongho stabilizes you with a hand on your hip and hands you your shirt.

“jongho? is that you?” seonghwa says. “little shit. this is the third time—”

your head snaps up to look at jongho, who’s unlocking the door and pushing it open, effectively interrupting seonghwa’s rant. he nudges you out first, standing behind you, and you suspect it’s to hide the very visible tent in his pants that’s currently pressed against your ass.

“oh,” seonghwa says, as his eyes fall onto you. he takes a second, glancing back and forth between the two of you, running over your mussed hair and flushed cheeks, jongho’s screwed up face and his right hand still grasping your hip, the wrinkles in your skirt and finally—

“oh,” seonghwa repeats. “oh, shit. okay, well congrats and all that—” and here he punches jongho in the shoulder “—but that doesn’t mean you can fuck in my bathroom!” he finishes cheerfully. he steps behind jongho and begins ushering the two of you back down the stairs and through the living room until you’re on his front porch.

“if you’re going to be doing the nasty, i’d rather you do that at home!” seonghwa says, wagging a finger in your face. “make sure you use protection! love you both!” and he shuts the door.

he leaves you and jongho in a stunned silence, both staring at the closed door.

“uh—” jongho tries.

“what did he mean third time?” you say.

“oh,” jongho says, and his big dick energy dissipates as a sheepish expression takes over. “well, i- i might’ve… y’know… a couple times in seonghwa’s bathroom.” he rubs the back of his neck and offers you an apologetic, gummy smile.

“and you got mad at me for fucking yunho once in his own apartment?” you demand, actually stopping your foot to emphasize the clear double standard at play. “while you were off playing merry-go-fuck-around in seonghwa’s private bathroom?”

“i wasn’t mad at you,” jongho says. “i was just—”

“just what?” you say. “slut-shaming me for having consensual sex?”

“no!” jongho says quickly. “i was jealous.”

“oh,” you say. so, you’d been right. he has been jealous of you and yunho. but somehow, you don’t feel vindicated in the slightest. “i mean—that doesn’t make it any better. i’m not some object—”

“i know that,” jongho says, exasperated. “but i just wanted to be… with you.”

“with me?” you say, wrinkling your nose. “you wanted to fuck me, too? like those other girls you had up in seonghwa’s bathroom?”

“no! with you, like—” jongho’s tongue darts out to wet his lower lip “—like as your boyfriend.”

oh.

well, you hadn’t been expecting that. you blink at him once, then twice. you open your mouth and close it again, gaping like a goldfish.

“do you- do you like me?” you ask, voice hoarse.

“well, yeah,” jongho says. “do… you like me?”

“yes!” you nearly shout the word. “yes—i’ve been in lo- i’ve liked you for at least a whole semester!”

“oh,” jongho says, looking as dumbfounded as you feel. “well, me too.”

you look at each other, and then start laughing. you hiccup, and jongho moves closer to you, wrapping his substantial arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his firm, warm chest. your cheek presses against that goddamn silver chain, but it’s no longer a source of stress for you. he peppers the crown of your forehead with kisses, until you finally look up at him and he kisses your lips softly.

“so,” he says, “can i?”

you raise your eyebrows. “can you what?”

“be your boyfriend?”

you pretend to contemplate the question, and when it takes you longer than a few seconds to respond, he knocks his chin against your temple affectionately.

“yeah,” you say, grinning. “yeah, you can be my boyfriend.”

“so then, what do you say about going back to my place and finishing what we started?” he asks.

“yes, please.”

continued in part 2!

[fancyfeathers]

Part two to this post

Barry Allen would baby trap his darling at some point, it’s when he would not if he would. He also does not exactly view it as baby trapping, it is just the next step in life, you get saved by the Flash engaged, you get kidnapped married, so naturally kids would come next in the line. He know, he know, kids are a really big step, but they have time. Then they have to figure out what to do if the kids have their father’s speed, there is no way his darling can raise the little ones all on her own as a stay at home mom, they’ll have to figure a dynamic that keeps him home more often so he can teach the kids while she is getting dinner ready-

Meanwhile while telling his darling about his their future plans while eating dinner with her and she is just sitting there horrified, he had their whole life planned like they had been together for years.

“Hey, hey, hey, baby, don’t cry. I know this is scary, but we’ll figure it out together.”

The moment he finds out she is pregnant, he hits the ground running, pun not intended, on the preparations. Then literally a minute later after getting the news he has the crib built and is just all over his darling, names for a girl, names for a boy, what if they have twins?

When the baby is born, he does not want to put them down, Barry always needs to holding his baby. Hey, kangaroo care does improve brain and motor development, lowers risk of infection, regulates temperature, and improves weight gain.

Oliver Queen does not really try to get his darling pregnant, but it is not something he bothers to prevent either. It is a thing that naturally happens in time so if they are meant to have kids then so be it, if they aren’t then that is fine to. Now unlike some of the Justice League members, Oliver is more in tune to his darling’s emotions and chances are when she gets that positive pregnancy test that she will not exactly be happy, probably be crying. Oliver will not say anything and he will just sit with her on the bathroom tile and hold her while she cries.

Now just because he understands how his darling feels does not mean she doesn’t have to carry the baby, no she still has to, after all it’s their future child, it means that Oliver will be far more lax with things. Oliver doesn’t really have a lot of rule, and the few he does have are to protect his darling from the sort of threats that may come at her because he is Green Arrow, he is by far one of the least up tight members of the Justice League with their darling. She can go out with him if she wants to rather than being stuck home all day long, she can stay up later, she can even go with him to Justice League meetings because the social interaction would be good for her especially since at least one of the Green Lanterns’ darlings is around the Watchtower while their partner is off planet, and if Clark’s darling is around it is good for them to talk because lord knows how many babies she has had so there is bound to be good advice from her.

Also I think that Oliver would want to do an at home birth, it is free from all the chaos of a hospital because it will attract attention if he is there suddenly with a wife no one has ever seen, plus his money will cover everything, even hiring private doctors for the baby’s vaccinations and such post delivery, and then not to mention to comfort of being able to relax in his own home with his darling and their little baby after the delivery, holding them both and just being in the moment without the stress of anything and not having to be away from either of them.

Also I feel like Oliver would be such a girl dad, like sure he would be happy if it was a boy, but if it’s a girl then that’s his little princess.

Look with Bruce Wayne there is only one correct answer here, absolutely he would. He would not even need to get his darling pregnant to do it, he already has too many children to count. But sometimes empty nest syndrome hits rather hard especially when Dick moves out to Blüdhaven and then the grief when Jason died, then as the other kid come and go they get older and grow more distant, then only one of them is biological and Bruce never got the chance to see Damian as a baby because his son was being raised by the League of Assassins and Bruce had no idea he even existed, so maybe having a child would not be such a bad idea after all.

He would not be surprised or acted surprised when his darling tells him she is pregnant, he planned everything down to the little details, tracking periods, morning sickness, everything. He is happy, but he is calm, telling her that they can handle this. The big thing is telling the rest of his children, who are most likely yanderes as well, that she is pregnant, it’s difficult enough to get them all in the same room at the same time and it is even harder to get them all to calm down when they tell them the news. Dick and Stephanie are by far the most excited at the news, Dick is so excited that he picks her up in a hug and spins her around, but meanwhile Cassandra is just staring at her, just with a look she knows that Bruce’s darling is not happy with this but she can’t exactly say that out loud in a room full of people who are more happy about her baby than she is.

Setting up the nursery is even a family affair, Dick and Tim are painting the walls while Bruce figures out how to build the crib, and meanwhile she is just sitting in an armchair with a cup of caffeine free tea from Alfred with Stephanie and Duke suggesting names while she drinks. Meanwhile Jason takes the initiative to begin to baby proofing the manor because they cannot expect to have gear outside the Batcave with a baby in the house, not ever child in this family is going to be a vigilante.

Then when the baby is born, Bruce makes it a point to shut down any jokes about the baby becoming a Robin, they are not going to be trained from birth like Damian was and they were not taken in by Bruce like the others were. Though Dick and Barbara definitely get the baby a Robin onesie as a gag gift.

But one good thing about having Bruce’s child, when the baby wakes up in the night, either Alfred, Bruce, or one of the kids get there before she does. Now Bruce or the kids may still be in full costume and have just run upstairs from the cave to help after getting back from patrol, but it’s fine.

[0-shutdown-0]

Hi! I wanted to create a collaboration of notes I had on Steb and his contribution to the plot of Arcane, also posted this on reddit, so here is everything from stuff I saw to things I hypothesized -

This is Steb:

You can look on his little fandom wiki tag for stuff that I don't touch BUT ESSENTIALLY

1 He appears in episode 1 as the silent officer who pokes Loris while Maddie talks to Vi. And from what I get from the conversation is that Steb had to have worked on the force long enough to be given Maddie as a junior officer that shadows him. An interesting combo considering he turned out to be reserved care and Maddie ended up being false cheer.

2 He's well trained in close combat and seems to prefer it on multiple occasions.

At the very beginning he holds a collapsible baton that seems to be geared more into disarming people or incapacitating them. During the attack on the memorial where he's not only the first to act but later when he reunites with Maddie and their surrounded by Shimmer mutants she seems to have given him a blade that Steb wasted no time in stabbing into the closest mutant. And it develops into him using dual single hand batons when he's enlisted on the strike team.

(We later see all mutants have spears in their head so I can't tell if he killed or not. But I do think he accidently killed the man that shot the flare because there was blood coming out, the mouth was parted open, and both Mel and Steb looked shocked.)

It isn't until episode 9 during the finale we see him shooting a gun that I think it resembles his decision that now he really doesn't have a choice other than to kill the enemy and save the platoon he was given to command (NOTE: I believe everyone he was given to command all ended up surviving) or die trying to knock people out and reduce casualties. I find it interesting especially since he's a medic in addition to being an enforcer.

3 HE IS SO AWARE OF EVERY LITTLE THING

Complete distrust to the Noxus when they arrive? Check. Wide eyed and stunned at Maddie and Caitlyn's decision to join the Noxus then literally checks out like Loris for a long while? Check. He's literally the person to see everything go down and just decides to assumably remove himself from the equation for the next few episodes before being called upon again AND I WISH I KNEW WHERE HE WENT (which has now led to me writing a fic but anyways)

4 Interesting things that I need to point out

-In the end of episode 1 where the strike team is introduced, Steb is the only one to not get a Hextech upgrade to his weaponry,

I assume this is from some type of moral code he continues to have where he refuses extreme force. Additionally, and its probably a stretch, the screen glitches over Maddie and Loris but focuses on him symbolizing he's the only one out of the three of them to live.

-His ears and his little cheek fin frills respond to EVERYTHING. Kind of reminding me of a fish's lateral line when it responds to vibrations in the water and stuff but anyways-

Considering he's some type of Vastya fishfolk, or half of cuz he has eyebrows and hair, it's interesting. I saw someone comment that the fishfolk had a connection to the Arcane and it's magic AND THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO COOL TO EXPAND ON BECAUSE IT MAKES SENSE. That could have been the reason why he averted to using Hextech advancements. And the more in tune senses helping him stay alive.

As well as explain why he was the first to act like in E1 and E3 when the strike team meets Heenox.

- Speaking of E3, you can literally see him not even look up at the murder dolls which includes everyone's death or injury but his coming true. And when he does treat Heenox not only does he see the effects of the Grey but when Caitlyn loads her gun to shoot the man Steb is turning to Vi like a "Get your woman???" 

He seemed to loose trust in Caitlyn there, as I noted he was the only one to look back when their group split as Vi and Caitlyn went off to face Jinx alone.

I can one hundred percent imagine Steb getting angry as a medic when he realizes he was kept in the dark about the use of the Grey as well, because he's not only the one who has to treat it but also has to live with the realization they did more harm to innocents and Jinx was in the right for rerouting all the vents they opened to release it.

- It appears that he is selectively mute, I assume that is has something to do with his biology since Jericho, the street vendor showed in S1 and later in S2, doesn't speak either but is seen being able to laugh and yell just like Steb. Personally think Steb doesn't speak much because its hard to do/hurts.

Which would have been so interesting to have been explored or at least acknowledged because it would have hit so much harder when in E9 we presumably hear him shout for his unit to get up and move when his leadership was needed most. 

-Maddie's betrayal had to have hurt so bad for him. She was his shadow, the one he was suppose to teach and in the end her ambition for power took hold of her and was the reason for her end. And for him to be someone so observant and careful and let that go right past him must have killed a part of him because he probably excused some of her behaviors. Like how Maddie had called Vi "one of the good ones" when referencing her origin from the Undercity. OR even when they were leaving and when Steb motioned for her to follow him Maddie only went when she heard another officer in the distance call for her.

It definitely could have been expanded on if the Arcane team was given a bigger budget for him to sign and Maddie to mistranslate or even ignore his authority because of his disability. Like, she cares for him but not enough to respect him.

I feel like when Caitlyn woke up to see Steb sitting there that pain was shown heavily but not enough. 

Anyways!

If you made it to the end of my rant, yay, this is all the deep diving I'm using for a fic and I hope it helps, if you have any thoughts to add please do!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Get Lost

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get caught in the corn maze after dark but you don’t think those footsteps belong to someone trying to help you find your way out.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: this is the fifth and final of my autumn fics as decided by all of you!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Jaden points across the dash, receiving a swat from Alexandria as she tries not to veer. 

“Hey,” she cries out, “don’t do that. I can’t see over your ugly sweater.” 

“Oh, whatever, Lex,” he snips, “I was just trying to show you that.” He points again, this time without blocking her view, “you see that sign ahead?” 

“Sure, I see it,” she leans over the wheel as your nail taps across your phone screen. You huff. You wish they’d stop arguing for one moment. “A maze?” 

“A corn maze. Doesn’t that sound fun? I haven’t been to one since I was a kid.” 

“Of course, you haven’t,” you scoff and let your phone hang carelessly in your hand. “We’ve all seen that movie with the evil kids. Who wants to go running through a field?” 

“I do,” Ashton says, “better than driving around looking for those shoes that don’t exist.” 

His girlfriend, Samira, laughs and leans into him. You blow a raspberry. 

“It’s all the way out in the middle of nowhere,” you sneer. 

“Well, Mrs. Xanny, you never want to do anything so your vote counts for nothing,” Jaden retorts. 

“Excuse me,” you roll your eyes. 

“I’m up for it,” Ashton raises his hand. 

“Me too,” Samira mimics him. 

“Me three,” Jaden declares. “So looks like you two are outvoted.” 

“Whatever,” you mutter and Alexandria sighs. 

“Fine, but nobody better leave me behind. I’m not getting lost because of you idiots,” she growls. 

“Don’t worry, Lexi, I’ll hold your wittle hand,” Jaden teases. 

The others laugh and you go back to your phone. You’re more interested in the new heels at your favourite boutique than some dirty and scarecrows. Alexandria steers on as she continues to snap at Jaden to stop distracting her. Her driving is a lot scarier than anything that might be hiding in the maze. 

You swipe and tap and tune out the world around you, especially the two lovebirds exchanging not so subtle touches beside you. Jaden had to insist on sitting in the front. Finally, the car rolls, the axle jostled by the lumpy ground, and you look up at the gray sky. You hate daylight savings. 

When the wheels are still, you’re reluctant to get out. You could offer to watch the car until they get back. It’s cold and you don’t feel like slogging through soil and seed. 

“Hey, Lex,” you begin. 

“If I’m going, you’re going,” she snips as she undoes her seatbelt. 

You curl your lip and make a face at her back. The others are already out of the car. Jaden’s bouncing eagerly, Ashton’s staring at the gate to the maze, and Samira is draped off her boyfriend’s arm. They probably just want to find a dark corner so they can makeout. They are so high school. 

“Fifteen bucks?” You read the sign above the table, “blech. I could put that towards my hair appointment tomorrow.” 

“Oh, boo hoo,” Jaden snorts. 

“Don’t act like you don’t have the money,” Samira jeers. 

You call these people ‘friends’ lightly. You all just kind of stick together out of familiarity. Most people you’ve met aren’t much better so why risk downgrading. 

You take a step and feel your tall heel sink into the mud. Ew. 

“Oh, my boots,” you whine as you lift your sole, the muck dripping off of it. 

“Wash em after,” Ashton says. 

“These are Louis’,” you snarl. 

“And you have at least three identical pairs at home. Lighten up,” he barks back. 

You cross your arms and seal your lips with a wry smile. You’re not arguing with him. He’s been a jerk ever since you turned him down at his sister’s twenty-fifth. You suppose it was his birthday two, them being twins and all. Not that he looks very much like Alexandria. 

You trod after the four others, trying not to step too deep in the mud. You growl at the ground. You know what’s not dirty, a salon or a store. 

“Nice boots,” a deep voice rolls over you as you join the queue for tickets.  

You lift your head and look over at the man nearby. He steps up next to you as you eye his bristly upper lip. It’s a look, not a good one. 

“Brave girl going in alone,” he comments. 

You frown, “I’m not,” you step closer to your friends and they chatter. 

“Oh, coulda fooled me,” he remarks as he reaches into his jacket. “So, those Louis boots... those are last year’s...” 

“How would you know?” 

He shows the lining of his jacket. Also Louis. He pokes his fingers into the interior pocket and slides out a pack of gum. He pushes out a piece and pops it in his mouth. He tucks the pack back into his pocket and drops his hands to his hip. 

“So,” he chews the gum loudly. “You’re not really dressed for a maze.” 

“And you are?” You scowl, looking him up and down. He copies your posture and does the same to you. 

“I’m not here for the maze, baby girl,” he winks and snaps the gum. “But you have fun.” 

He turns and struts away before you can respond. Your lips open in confusion. What could he mean? You blink and shut your mouth, stepping up between Alexandria and Ashton. 

“So, how long are we going to have to stand around?” You ask. 

🌾

You hold your phone up in irritation. Your bars are totally gone. Great. This maze thing is so fucking boring. What are you supposed to do now? 

You sniff and shake your head. You sigh and put your phone in your jacket pocket, keeping your hand in the fleecy insert as the chill creeps up your leggings. You guess you’ll have to help or whatever. 

“Alex--” you look ahead then back, and side to side. Your heart leaps and you rush forward as fast as you can on your six-inch heels, “Alexandria? Ashton?” You look around the next corner and the opposite way along the other pathway. “Samira?” 

You spin again, your ankles tangling together. You blink as the tall corner adds to the dimness setting over the horizon. You gulp as your heart pounds in your throat. You slip your phone free once more and turn on the flashlight. 

You aim it ahead and listen for voices. You don’t hear much past the dense wall of stalks. As you brush a bit too close, you cry out and back away from the hanging husk. You shake of the crawling sensation and turn back and forth again. You lost your sense of direction. 

You look up at the sky. The clouds are thick, you can see neither moon or sun. You stop and pull your phone closer. You bring up your maps but it’s just a blank screen. Still no signal. 

Fuck it. Just walk, you’ll find the way. 

You shine the light ahead of you, your heels sinking into the mulch of footsteps, husks, and stones. You walk unevenly over the soft ground. You mumble obscenities as your arches start to bemoan the height. If you had known about this special excursion, you could’ve worn your Uggs. 

There’s a scuff, a strange echo of your own steps. You stop but it keeps going. You squint and twirl around, the light glinting off the corner and slicing through shadows. “Hello?” You call out. 

The footsteps continue but no one answers. You can’t tell if they’re ahead of you or behind you. Or to the left. Or right. You sway back and forth. This is getting weird. 

You take a breath and set your feet. You nearly trip as your heels dig in once more. You grunt and pull them out. You’re about to just scream for help. 

A sudden rumble makes you squeal. What the hell was that? You twist around and it happens again. It’s laughter? Someone’s laughing at you? 

You look at the tall stalks of corn, searching between the tight rows. 

“Alright, not very funny. Ashton....” you holler. 

The laughter gets louder. 

“Jaden,” you hiss. 

The laughter stops. 

“I really am not amused, okay? I want out. I never even wanted to do this stupid thing--” 

“Those boys are long gone, sweet peach,” the voice drawls around you like the wind, “I’m all man.” 

“Where are you? Who are you?” You ask. 

“I’m right behind you, baby, and I’m your knight in shining armour,” he purrs. 

You gasp and turn around. You beam the flashlight of the phone in the man’s face. You only get a glimpse of that short brown mustache before the cell is knocked from your grasp. 

“What are you tryna do? Blind me?” He snarls as your phone disappears between the corn. 

“What-- What do you want?” You step back, dragging your heels from the mud. 

“I wanna help, baby,” he slithers. “You seem lost.” 

You blink at him. He’s a dark silhouette against the greyness trapped in the maze. You bristle and look over at the corn. 

“Sure, I’ll just grab my phone, thanks--” 

“Ah, ah,” he comes up to meet you, blocking you with his arm. “I don’t work for free, honey pot.” 

“Fine, then go away,” you spit. 

“Woah, ho, you haven’t even asked what I want in return, sweetie,” he brings his other hand up to touch your cheek and you flinch away. 

“You’re not getting it, dude,” you back up. 

“Just a little suck. Hell, you give the little guy a nice kiss and I won’t even make you finish the job--” 

“Ew, no way,” you smack his hand down as he reaches for you again. “Fuck off--” 

He’s quick. He grabs you by your jaw and snarls as he looms over you, “for such a pretty mouth it sure is fucking filthy. Won’t matter what I put in it--” 

“Hey,” you grunt and writhe in his grasp, twisting your hands around his thick forearms, “get off--” 

“I’m trying, trust me--” 

You ram your knee up and feel the crunch in his pants. He wheezes and lets you go. You shove him and stagger backwards. You look at the corn one last time. Your phone is somewhere in there. 

As he cradles his crotch and snarls, the urgency of the moment slaps you across the face. Fuck your phone. You need to get away from this creep. 

Thank god you got insurance on your cell plan. You turn and lift your knees. You land on your toes, keeping your heels off the ground as much as you can. You’re not going very fast and you know you look ridiculous but you don’t care. You want to go home. 

You pump your arms as you breath hitches. You hear groans and another set of steps, just like before. You get to a corner and turn before you crash through the corn. You heave as you race away, ankles threatening to bend. At what point do you just ditch the Louis’ and mourn them with your phone. 

You cough and slow down. Shit. You’re in terrible shape. You look over your shoulder, your breath foggy in the plummeting temperature. You don’t see him. You don’t hear him either. Good. 

You turn-- 

“Boo!” The man startles you so you shriek. 

You stagger back as he cackles and you hurl yourself forward. Your feet catch as your heels stab the ground and you stumble with your arms flailing away from him. Your shallow breaths thunder around you as you charge through the maze only to find yourself trapped at a dead end. 

You stop and waver, lungs filled with fire. Fuck, fuck, fuck! You stomp with each internal proclamation. 

“Look, sugar tits, you can keep running and I’ll keep chasing,” the man struts up behind you as you spin to face him. “But it all ends the same way.” He sets his feet wide and cracks his knuckles. “And since you bruised my left nut,” he snarls, “you can kiss that better first.” 

“Uh, like why are you doing this?” You ask. 

He chortles, “like because I can.”  

You snarl and cross your arms, “you’re a loser. And you’re old. Like, can’t you find someone your own age to creep on?” 

He laughs louder but there’s not much humour in it. He stalks closer and your defiance glimmers, just a little. You don’t know where he gets off. Does he really think he can just tell you what to do? 

“So, I knew you were gonna be a handful,” he grabs you by the neck and you wince. You slap his wrist and he tuts, bringing his other hand up to grope your chest, “in more ways than one.” 

“Hey, fuck--” you grit out. “Hey!” 

“Look, sweetie, it’s a simple transaction. I pull my pants down, you keep those teeth to yourself, and be real nice to me,” he glares down at you. “The way you crushed my balls, you’re lucky I don’t make you lick my boots.” 

“What is wrong with you?” You growl. 

“Oh, a lot,” he smirks. “Now, those boots must kill your feet so...” he jerks you roughly, “on your knees.” 

Your eyes tinge just a little but you won’t cry. Not because of him. You gnash your teeth and grimace at him as he peels his hand away. 

“You got one thing going for you, baby, and that’s that pretty face. I can change that, trust me,” he warns. You swallow avert your eyes. He chuckles again, “god, I love that pout.” 

You bat your lash and fight to keep the litany of insults inside. You caterpillar faced fuck. You viagra powered moron. You overgrown frat boy. 

“The next time you open your mouth, it better be to gobble my cock,” he sneers, “so don’t even say it.” 

You look at him again. You set your eyes and your jaw. You step closer and he lifts his chin just slightly as he stares you down. 

You grab his belt and he twitches. You unbuckle it and whip the ends aside. You pop the button open and yank the zipper apart. He watches you, his eyebrow tweaking. You push his fly wide and roll your eyes as you feel his naked pelvis beneath your fingertips. Of course, this weirdo is hanging loose. 

You reach under his pants and angle his hard dick through the teeth of the zipper. You stroke him up and down with a dry, tight grip. He hisses and shifts his weight. 

“Careful, like sandpaper,” he rasps. 

You tut and look down. You huff. You move one foot back and bend your leg. You put one knee to the ground then the other. You make a face as you come level to his tip. Ugh. 

“Don’t look so fucking enticed,” he barks. You roll your eyes again and he swats your head. “Keep doing that and your eyes are getting stuck.” 

Old. Man. 

You pump him again and slowly, inch by inch, lean in. 

“Ah, I said kiss the left one first, then you can get to the main dish,” he puts his hand on his hip. 

You swallow and push down a tide of disgust. You lift him and lean your head to the side. You crane around and pucker, pressing your lips to his left ball. He twitches and groan. 

“Damn, those lips are soft. Do the other one.” 

With bile brewing in your stomach, you obey. You pull back and put his tip to your lips. You narrow your gaze at his pelvis and spread your mouth around him. You wet his swollen head then work your way down his length. He might be a desperate loser but he’s not small. 

You bob up and down as you take more and more of him. He curls his fingers into his hip as his other hand goes to the back of your head. He urges you on and you bat his hand with yours. You push back against him and flick your eyes up. 

“You are a stubborn one,” he rebukes. 

Your lips meet your hand and you pump him emphatically with both, popping off his tip so he whimpers. He clutches a wad of your hair as his eyes gleam desperately. 

“I kissed it better,” you wipe your mouth, “you show me the way out, and you might just finish, old man.” 

He stares down at you. Agitation and amusement battle across his expression. He takes a breath and lets it out. 

“One last kiss and I’ll get you out,” he says, “And then you’ll get me off.” 

The cold air swirls around you and the darkness floods through the corn. You squeeze him slightly and put a sloppy kiss on his tip with a loud muah. You let go and tickle along his length. You grab onto his arm and pull yourself to your feet. 

“I want out. Now.” 

“Alright, princess,” he snickers. “Don’t you worry, I got a throne you can sit on when we’re home free.” 

[demonsslayersstuff]

Seeing You (AOT Men x Fem Reader)

Description: Here are some head canons and drabbles about how some of the Attack on Titan men react to seeing you naked for the first time.

Warnings: Nudity, suggestive content, smut for some characters (warnings will be placed individually), fluff.

A/N: Slowly working through my end of year list. I wanted to post twice this week, but honestly November is such a busy month for me. Stayed tuned for the Giyuu fic, that's next on my list. Enjoy!

Erwin Smith:

Erwin would 100% be a respectful partner, but for some reason I feel like the first time he see's you naked would be purely accidental

Being a captain or squad leader, I could see you being in your office and you accidently spill your tea or something and you need to change your clothes. Thinking no one would enter without knocking, you strip to change

Only for Erwin to come barging into your room wanting to discuss an urgent matter with you and the one time he doesn't knock is in this moment

Erwin would be sooo embarrassed, like face shocked and then turning red before he immediately whips around and apologizes before leaving you to finish changing. Feels horrid and never enters your office without knocking ever again

"Fuck", you hiss as the hot liquid hits your uniform, not only staining your shirt, but your pants as well. You thank your foresight, knowing you always kept a few extra uniforms and clothes in your office for this very situation. After removing your ODM gear, you being to strip off your clothes. That's when you realize the tea you had spilled managed to soak your bra as well. Without a second thought, you remove it as well, wanting to have a full set of fresh clothes. The moment your bra hits the floor is the moment you office door flings open. You immediately lock eyes with Erwin Smith; Commander of the Scouts Regiment, your partner, and soon to be dead man. "Captain there's something I want-", he begins, but the words die in his throat as his baby blue eyes take in your nearly nude body. Panic sets in about three seconds later and he turns around, quickly slamming the door shut, keeping his back turned to give you some privacy. "I'm so, so sorry", he says, stuttering. You put your clean clothes on as fast as you can. "I'm good sir", you tell him as you begin to put the ODM gear back on. "Listen-" Erwin starts, but you cut him off. "It's ok darling. No one else saw and we are in a relationship, at some point you are going to see me naked", you say, giving him a soft smile. However you next words turn darker, "Next time knock, the last thing I need is to flash the entire Regiment", your smile fading. "It won't happen again", Erwin says, clearing his throat uncomfortably, before moving to lay the papers he'd brought with him on your desk. The two of you fall back into work mode quickly, though Erwin wants nothing more than to you see you naked again, under very different circumstances.

Levi Ackerman: Slight Smut

The first time Levi sees you naked, is probably the first time y'all are having sex or at least during a heavy make out session. With Levi its more of a planned thing

When your relationship gets to the that step, Levi is excited and terrified at the same time. He's not scared at seeing you naked, he is scared of fucking up a big moment

Levi would savor this moment with you. He is in no rush and wants to map out and explore every inch and curvature of your body

Once he finally sees you fully exposed, he's is going to make sure you feel beautiful and wanted. This will be something that Levi keeps ingrained in the back of his mind for the rest of his life.

"It's ok Levi, you can take it off", you murmur, looking down at your partner, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of your shirt. Levi takes a steadying breath. "Are absolutely sure you want this?", he questions again. You move your hands on top of his, helping to ease his tremble. "I'm ready, I want this, I want you", you tell him, voice sincere. Without another word, Levi is quick to take off your shirt, followed to by unclasping of your bra and soon, other than your panties, Levi is looking at your nude body. His eyes rake over you, catching your plump breasts, noting the various scars that you'd gotten from years with the Scouts. He feels his dick harden, you were beautiful. "Gorgeous", he lets out, as his body over lay yours, his own clothes joining yours on the floor. His lips attach to your neck, before he gingerly cups your left boob in his hand, testing the waters. You sigh with pleasure, "I'm not made of glass love, touch me", you moan out. His hands become bolder, feeling every inch of your skin and when he finally gets the courage to slip off your panties, his breath catches in his throat. His steely blue eyes capture yours, "I'm gonna take care of you, don't worry", he tells you, voice gruff from the desire that is pulsating through to his body. And as his fingers slip into your slick inner walls, you knew this was going to be long night.

Jean Kristien:

I see this happening two ways. The first is during a heated make out session and yall throw caution to the wind. The second is accidentally, like if you got injured or he walked into the wrong room

If it’s purely accidental, Jean would be an embarrassed hot mess. His face would as red as a tomato, mumbling an apology before walking into the wall (lol)

If it’s during a more intimate situation, he’d get your permission first, but once it’s given you’re in for it. There’s no stopping him, especially now that the two of you are taking that step

Jean would definitely make sure that you felt comfortable and ready. Even if it was an accident, he’d go out of the way to apologize nicely for his mistake. He doesn’t want to do anything to hurt you

You hiss in pain as you slip your shirt and bra off your upper body. Your injury was in an odd place on your back, making treating it alone difficult. Thus, you sneaked off to an old storage closet, getting some privacy. You groan as you peeled the bandage off, getting ready to put a fresh dressing and ointment on the wound. Just as you were getting ready to apply the paste, the door swung open and in came Jean. You both freeze, staring at each other, you did not expect to get disrupted here. As Jean’s eyes move down, he comes to the realization that you had no clothes on your upper body. His cheeks flushed a brilliant red and he immediately turned around, quickly moving to leave with a quick apology. “Wait”, you shout. Jean pauses for a second. “I’m sorry to ask, but could you please help me with this?”, you ask meekly. You hear an intake of breath, “Are you sure?”, he asks cautiously. “Yes, I know we just started dating, but I’d rather you do it”, you tell him. The door clicks shut softly. “Turn around, I’ll do my best too ah, to uh, not make you..uhm uncomfortable”, Jean stutters out. Once your back is to him, he turns around. Taking the bandage and ointment he works quickly, wrapping you up. “You can get dressed now”, he mumbles, voice barely visible. “Thanks”, you say but groan when you move to put your clothes back on. “Let me help”, Jean states, moving to help. You feel the softness of his finger tips as the brush against your back and shoulders. The feeling making your body warm. “Jean”, you say softly and turn around to look at him. He raises his eyebrows at your face. “Kiss me”, you murmur. He doesn’t hesitate, lips finding yours with ease. Maybe you wouldn’t be leaving the storage closet for some time.

Eren Jaeger: (Reader is bit dominant here) Suggestive Content

With Eren this I feel like is going to be “accidental”, or basically he’s going to claim it was an accident, but he actual does it on purpose (only if yall are in a relationship, he is not gonna do it in a creepy manner)

For some reason I see him as someone who’d steal your towel or purposely spill something on you, forcing you to change or what not. Again he’s only going to this for his partner.

However you catch onto his plan pretty quickly and two can play at this game. You’ll get back at him by teasing him or withholding things like kisses until he relents and apologizes

Eventually this becomes a little tradition for the two of you. Whether it’s him stealing your towel or you accidentally splashing water on him. The two of you enjoy goofing off this way as it leads to some other fun activities

You gasp as the cool liquid comes into contact with your shirt. “I’m so sorry”, you hear Eren exclaim as you take stock of what had happened. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and tripped and now you’re all wet”, he continues, voice innocent enough, but something tells you there’s more to this story. Your eyes narrow as you catch his cheeks flushing red. “Come with me so we can get you a spare shirt”, Eren says, grabbing your arm and pulling you along the hall. Once the two of you are safely in his room do you speak. “You know if you wanted to see me naked, you could have just asked”, you tell him with a slight glare already knowing what that whole situation was about. You had caught Jean and Connie’s snickering on your way out as well as Connie’s not so subtle thumbs up. You see the guilty expression on his face before he has time to make up a story. You sigh, grabbing the spare shirt from his hands before pushing him to the door. “Wait, wait”, he says, tone rushed. “What?”, you ask briskly, wanting nothing more than to get out of this wet shirt. “I’m sorry ok, that wasn’t fair to you”, Eren says, apologizing, regretting his immature actions. “I accept your apology. But next time just ask, don’t act like a two year old”, you tell him. Knowing his apology was sincere, you decided to just take your shirt and bra off for him. You hear his intake of breath as his eyes scan your chest, lingering on your breasts. You step closer, hand reaching down to grasp his pants. “Your turn”, you say with a smirk. Eren complies rather quickly, and before you know it heated desires take over, leaving the two of you completely bare for the other. “Touch me”, you whimper and soon his hands are all your body, lips finding yours. Needless to say the two of you did not make it back to finish lunch.

Armin Artlet: (Slight Smut)

Similar to Levi, he’s not going to see you naked until the two of you are good and ready to make your relationship more physical

He’s a quite nervous the first time, fingers trembling, panicking on the inside. However Armin is still going to treat you well; he’s going to make you feel beautiful and loved

Once the nerves pass, Armin is on cloud nine. He’d never thought someone could feel/ taste this heavenly. He doesn’t want you to put your clothes back on, preferring to keep you naked beside him

Going forward, Armin is going to find any opportunity to have your clothes off your body. Whether it’s bathing together, cuddling, or having sex. The poor boy can get enough of you.

Armin takes a steadying breath as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt; his nerves getting the best of him. “It’s ok love, I want this”, you remind him softly. “Ok”, he huffs out before slowly pulling your shirt off your body. You hear him gasp as shirt falls to the floor, nearly forgotten as Armin’s eyes rake over your nearly nude body. “Breathtaking”, he murmurs, before tentatively moving his hands to cup your breast gently. You sigh with pleasure at the contact. “Can I..erm..may I kiss it?”, Armin questions with a stutter. “Please”, you whine out, wanting noting more than his lips wrapped around your sensitive nipple. A few seconds later your desires are met, and you moan as he sucks your boob into his mouth, his hand fondling the other. His tongue swirls your nipple and you clench your thighs together, trying to create a bit of resistance where you ached so desperately for him. He lifts his head up a moment, catching your movements. “Let me touch you baby”, he says, voice gruff, a new found courage growing within him. “Ok”, you say, nearly inaudible. Armin’s fingers part your underwear, before they find your nearly soaked entrance. His lips connect with your nipple as his digit slips inside you with ease, the pleasure sending shock waves through your body. Tonight was going to be a special night for the both of you.

[domesticgoddess22]

A night With Joel Miller

Dad's enemy!joel

Ao3 | masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings : dub-con, unprotected PIV, breeding kink, mild gun violence, dark!joel miller, raider!joel, deep throating, spanking, daddy kink, creampie, dom!Joel, dad's enemy!joel, praise kink, captivity word count: 4.1k summary: You're scavenging around an old CD store in Austin when the notorious Joel Miller catches you alone. Clickers swarm the street, so he takes you upstairs to hide out for the night. He says you were free to leave, but you stay and things get steamy.

a/n: This is my little one shot I posted to Ao3 awhile back. I've been considering making it a series once I finish some chapters of Wish Upon A Cowboy. Also this is the first time I've ever posted a fic on Tumblr so I hope I'm doing it right<3

~~~

You were always the adventurous type, always exploring, always curious. Never doing what you’re told and trading obedience for the sweet thrill of temptation. Your old man only caught you traversing through Austin by yourself a handful of times now. Those were the times you were lazy, slipped up a little, enough for someone in the faction to notice you were missing and rat you out. Your dad would send his guys after you like you were some fucking kid that couldn’t handle yourself out there. The other 300 times you did it, he had no idea you had even left your room.

Tonight was another one of those nights. 

You were on your way to an old CD store to see if you could scrap up something new to listen to. It was time to put Sweet Home Alabama to fucking rest and change up the tunes, and if you were lucky, maybe you’d find an old Nirvana CD still intact.

The beam of your flashlight reflected on what little shine the CD cases had left to offer, most of them dusty and scratched, tossed across the rubble like relics. 

The sound of a gun clicked behind your ears.

“Don’t move,” a low, smokey voice breathed into the shell of your ear. Instinctively, your arms shot up, palms facing outward. The Nirvana case crashed at your feet, fragments of plastic splintered this way and that. “Turn around. Slowly. ” 

You obeyed, heart hammering, blood pumping, eyes beginning to tear. When you do turn to face him, you’re blinded by a blaring flashlight pointed at you. 

“‘s just you here?” 

“Yes–yes it’s just me, I swear it.” 

“Ain’t it a bit dangerous for a little thing like you to be runnin’ around Austin…?” He aimed the light away so it’s pointed somewhere off to your left, scanning the room before his eyes lock back onto yours. “... Alone. ” 

You could see him more clearly now, tall, broad shoulders, face lined with stress, and eyes so cold, you’re sure he’d seen death more than you ever had. You were no match for him either, even with the revolver strapped to your ankle and a knife in your bra. He was too big. Too imposing. 

“I uh…” you swallowed the acidic bile creeping up your throat. “I like to live on the edge.”

“Mmm,” he licked his teeth, studying you. “That ain’t very smart. Lot more out here to be ‘fraid of than infected.”

He’s going to fucking kill you, isn’t he?

“My dad will raise hell if anythin’ happens to me.” 

“Your dad, huh?”

“Mhm. Old man is probably on a wild goose chase lookin’ for me as we speak.”

He chuckles darkly, “I ain’t scared of your daddy.”

“Look, man, I don't have much on me,” you plea, eyebrows knitted inward. Maybe he’d pity you and let you loose.

“Not much, but sounds like you got somethin’.”

“Got a granola bar.”

“Think your life is worth a granola bar?” He cocked his brow.

You rolled your eyes. “Got a revolver on my left ankle. Map in my back pocket with some marks where my dad hides his shit. Happy?”

His lips tugged into a smile that didn’t reflect in his eyes, “Atta girl.” 

In one flood motion, he binds your wrists together with one hand, tucking his gun back into his belt and then patting down your pant legs searching for weapons. When he reaches your ankles, he takes the revolver. 

“‘s only got one bullet,” he grumbled.

“Times are tough.” People are out there stealing your faction’s shit.

He straightens, your arms are pinned against your head now and his eyes are dark, boring into yours. His grip tightens and he steps closer, a greedy hand sliding into your back jean pocket, you wince at the feel of a man’s hand on your ass.

“Other pocket.”

He grabs your wrists with his left hand, letting his right hand explore your left pocket this time, his fingers grabbing the little paper you told him about.

“Easy, cowboy.” You drawl, eyelashes fluttering, eyes trailing up his washed-out green flannel. Up, up, up until they land on his wide chest. His thick shoulders. And then finally, his eyes, dark and matched with an expression so stern and sharp it could cut glass. 

His stare burns into you like he’s turning your flirtatious words repeatedly in his head. And then his gaze falls to your lips. The weight of his hand is hot on your waist now, even through layers of cotton, you can feel his heat in this late October cold.

There’s a distant sound of a soda can rolling down the pavement, knocking into rubble, and then feet shuffling.

“What was that?” 

The man looks over the shelves to see what you can’t at your height.

“Clickers. Come on.” He tugged you by the waist, guiding you to the back exit and up a flight of stairs. 

“Woah, where are we going?” You whispered harshly.

“You’d rather stay out here?” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder and your gaze follows. There was a dozen clickers roaming around. How convenient. 

“If you give me my fucking gun back, yeah.”

“You got one bullet, kid. There’s fuckin’ ten of ‘em out there.” You step into an old apartment and the front door clicks behind you. He scopes out the rooms. “It’s clear. We can stay here for the night. If we gotta fight, better we do it in the daylight.” 

“I’m not stayin’ the night here with a stranger. Especially not a hunter. ” The word was thick on your tongue. Hunters were despicable people who stooped to the lowest of the low.

“By all means darlin’, you wanna test your luck, go right ahead. I ain’t stoppin’ you.” 

You scowled at that, but he was right. It seemed like you’d finally got yourself into a pickle, and despite your attempt to look calm and collected, you were scared shitless right now. Either you were going to spend the night with this random guy or try to dodge all the clickers and make it back home.

“Fine,” you rolled your shoulders in defeat. “But I’m not sleepin’. As soon as the sun comes up and the clickers disperse, I’m out.” 

“Don’t sleep then,” he murmured, looking through the cupboards and drawers for any remnants of the past.

“Still got that granola bar? ’m gettin’ pretty hungry.”

You threw the granola bar at his chest and he smirked, tearing the wrapper open.

“Thanks, Darlin’.”

“Not like you were gonna give me a choice.” 

Joel sat on the old couch and leaned back, arm propped against the back cushion. Legs spread. Brown eyes on you. He had removed his green flannel, exposing just a simple black tee barely holding onto his muscles. It took every ounce of sense in you to ignore how fucking good he looked. 

“Like what you see?” He said, a cocky grin on his face. Your eyes flicked elsewhere, dancing around the room to find something else to occupy your mind with.

“Don’t flatter yourself, old man.”

Arrogant son-of-a-bitch.

“What’s your deal?” he pried.  “You runnin’ away from your daddy or some’n?”

“Nah.”

“Then?”

“Just like goin’ out. Seein’ the world.”

He scoffed. “‘m surprised he lets you run ‘round Austin all by yourself.” 

“He doesn’t. Doesn’t think I can handle myself out here.”

The man cocked a brow, challenging you.

“I can handle myself. I’m twenty-seven years old.” 

“You wanna handle yourself, darlin’, you better scope out places before hangin’ out in ‘em,” he grumbled, chewing on the granola bar. He pointed the rest of it in your direction, nodding his head in a gesture for you to take the rest.

“You’re lettin’ me have the last bite?”

“Take it, ‘fore I change my mind.”

You snatched it from him. “Did ya finally learn you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar?”

“You sayin’ I won you over, sweet thing?”

“Not a chance. I still don’t trust you.”

“Probably for the best.”

“That so?”

“I ain’t really a good guy.”

“Yeah, I gathered that. You robbed an innocent girl, nearly killin’ over a damn granola bar and a half-empty revolver. Swell guy.”

“Hey, you woulda been dead without me.” He sat forward with his elbows on his knees and pointed a finger at you. “Clickers woulda chased after your dumb ass, loud as you were with those old CD cases and whatnot.”

“Whatever,” you slumped into the armchair across from him. “Wouldn't of made noise and dropped Nirvana if you hadn't surprised me.”

“Nirvana ain’t worth dyin’ over, kid.”

“Then what is?”

“Som’ else.”

“Go on,” you waved your hand, urging him to enlighten you on what he considers music worth dying for.

“The Eagles. If I see you again after this, I’ll give ya a listen. Got a few CDs of my own.”

“Okie dokie, random hunter dude that robbed me.” Because intentionally hanging out with a hunter sounded like a smart plan.

“Joel,” he leaned back against the cushion again.

Your blood was ice in your veins.

“What?” 

“My name. It’s Joel.” Your eyes were still wide in shock as Joel shook his head, tossing his hands like what don’t you understand?

“As in… Joel Miller?”

“Yeah?”

Joel fucking Miller.

This whole time you’ve been with the heartless hunter your dad cursed daily. 

Now that you could put a face to the name, it was hard to believe he looked so attractive. With the way your dad talked about him, you imagined Joel as an ugly troll.

“My dad would have a heart attack if he knew I was with you right now. He hates your guts, ya know.”

“Your dad? You’ll need to fill me in, sweetheart, I got a lotta guys that hate me.”

You tell him about your dad and watch the way Joel’s head nodded slowly in recognition.

“He’s had it out for me ‘n my guys for some time now. Can’t say I blame ‘im.” His eyes shifted to the left in thought, probably flashing back to the terrible things he’s done, and then his brown orbs fell back on you. “If I’m rememberin’ right, you must be…”

He tastes your name on his lips with a southern drawl as sweet as tea. 

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I know a lotta ‘bout your faction. Stole from ya ‘nuff times.” 

“Lovely.”

“Gotta survive, baby. Ain’t got somebody to do the dirty work for me like you do.”

“And what are you implyin’?”

“‘m just sayin’. And you’re dad ‘n I ain’t so different. Just survivin’ the best way we know how. Only difference is, he probably does what he does to protect you. I do what I do just… ‘cuz. ”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Pretend you know anythin’ about me or my old man.”

“I don’t have to pretend. You’re an open book, darlin’,” he says with that same damn smirk on his face.

“Nah, I’m not,” you fold your arms across your chest and turn your gaze to the world outside the window. Below is a congregation of clickers on the road, confirmation that you were trapped alone with this man for the evening. 

The couch creaks when Joel stands, a divet in the old cushion left behind in his absence. He steps toward you, his belt buckle a few inches from your face. Saliva builds in your mouth and you swallow. Hard.

Rough fingers grip your chin, tilting your head upward to look into the dark eyes that gaze down upon you. 

“You look like you’ve been cravin’ some fun. Daddy’s been keepin’ you cooped up, ain’t he?” He exhales, a whiskey aroma riding the small breeze from his lips all the way to yours.

There’s an ache between your legs and your cheeks feel hot with shame. Your pulse quickened, and Joel fucking knew it. He could feel it. 

You had two options: deny it and look away, or embrace the thrill.

“Joel… What are you…” Your voice trailed off and you look bewildered, but your hand finds a place on his thigh. The denim feels hot on your palm.

“I can help you with that. Make you feel good.” He’s leaning down now, his breath on your lips. “Anybody ever made you feel good before?”

“N-No one,” you stutter, glossing over the memories of one of the guys from your faction. You were both young, inexperienced. It was nothing but a night of experimentation and pain, and then it never happened again.

Joel nodded slowly, releasing his grip on your chin and then moving back to the couch, eyes dark, right arm relaxed along the backside of the seat, left hand lifting two fingers that gesture for you to come hither.

If you were being fucking honest, the attraction began the second he pat you down and only deepened when you found out who he was. It felt like a dangerous thrill knowing you were with the very man your father would forbid you to be near.

“Come’re,” Joel pat his lap.

Without batting your eyes, without even thinking twice, you obeyed. You found a spot on his thigh, thick enough for you to have ample space to sit.

The gray bristles in his beard were more noticeable up close. You guessed he was in his mid to late 40s. He slowly tugged your jeans off and tossed them on the floor.

Joel’s palm rested on your naked thigh, kneading into your skin with his face buried in your neck, licking and biting and licking again, growing increasingly heady with each one until he was sucking on your neck so hard you could feel it turn purple. Then his fingers brushed the fabric of your panties and you squealed from the sudden contact.

“You okay, sweet thing? He breathed into your hair.

“I’m nervous.”

“‘S okay,’ his voice was a low whisper into your clavicle, followed by soft kisses on the side of your neck. “Why are ya nervous?”

“Um… just shy, I guess… Never done this much.”

He groaned when the tips of his fingers felt your dripping heat. “Fuck–you’re so wet.”

Eyes lidded with lust and back arched to give him more access, you start to grind on his hand. Moaning at his touch,  the wet heat that pools between your legs and soaks his hand, the way his fingers caress your folds in a circular motion.

“Good girl.”

The praise sent a tingling feeling through your core.

You were a good girl for him.

He rubbed your little bud more furiously now, picking up the pace and then he slid a thick digit into your slick. You bit your lip to stifle the moans that came in uncontrollable tidal waves as he pumped his finger in and out, in and out, in and out.

Just when you think you’re going to reach your peak, he firmly grips your waist on either side, lifting your ass until you crash down onto the seat of the cushion. His lips were on your pussy, before the two of you ever even kissed, you noted. He groaned the second his tongue glided across your wet slit, and the sound vibrates against your soft lips.

“Couldn’t resist… Baby… Fuck–Taste so fuckin’ sweet.” He babbled into your dripping lips, the stone-cold man from earlier was long gone, and now in his stead was a man drunk with lust. He was melting from your pheromones, your scent, your wetness. It felt good to know that you had that effect on him.

Joel bucked his hips into the couch with each lick and suck, growing more sporadic and sloppy in his rhythm. You weren’t an expert in the matters of men in the bedroom, but he clearly wasn’t going to hang on much longer–that much you knew. 

A rough hand cupped your mound and then toyed with your sensitive nipple. He pumped his finger back into you, his tongue still keeping the pressure on your bud. Joel slid in another finger, and then another until three of his thick digits are stretching you to the brim, viciously fucking into you until you were screaming his name and begging him for more. He conceded, guiding you to the sweet bliss of the finish line. 

Your chest was heaving, forehead tacky, and eyes planted on the popcorn ceiling above you as you came to. Two blinks later, the sound of a zipper snapped you out of your daze and you shifted your gaze to the space between your spread legs.

Joel had his cock out, thick and angry, veins pulsing. 

He was huge.  

Your mouth watered at the sight of it as you watched him jerk himself off to your body. 

You got on your knees, bending to show him the nice curve of your backside, face now inches away from his cock. He lets go as you place a hand on his jean pocket and steady yourself, and then he plunges into your mouth. 

Joel’s hands snaked through your hair and latched onto the backside of your head, pumping his cock into the back of your throat in five relentless thrusts. You choked from the sudden penetration and he quickly pulled out, his head sliding out of your lips with a “pop.”

“Too much?”

“No.” You wiped the string of saliva that connected you to him. “I like it.” And you liked that as cold and mean as he played off, he cared about whether or not he was hurting you.

His eyes went dark and there was a ghost of a smile pulled at his lips in satisfaction. And then his cock was sliding past your lips again and gliding against your tongue. You rolled your tongue around and suck him in as far as you could. He groaned, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“Ain’t gonna last long. Got me… all wound up.”

You moaned affectionately as he picked up the pace, thrusting and groaning, mumbling profanities. You even swore he said your name as his hot cream pumped into your mouth. 

Hands now pressed to his lower back for support, he was so deep that his balls were pressed to your chin and you felt him straining to release every drop. You realize that his gun, and yours, are tucked into his belt right by your hands. When he settled, you leaned back, swallowed, and licked your finger.

“You look so sexy right now,” he said, voice deep and gravelly, thick with the aftermath of sex.

You’d never felt this sexy before. Hair disheveled, naked ass resting on the back of your ankles, T-shirt barely covering your womanhood but leaving just enough to the imagination, and your breasts peeking out of the V.

Joel bent down until his body was completely imposing yours, caging you in. Your brows caved inward, looking up at him doe-eyed and uncertain of what he planned to do next. He wrapped one around your waist, pulling you into his embrace while his other hand creeps across your neck. 

He surprised you with an intimate kiss. It was romantic, demanding, and dangerous. Joel commanded your tongue to dance with his, exploring your mouth with fervor like he belonged there. 

“Turn around. Face down. Ass up,” he says in a husky whisper. You look up at him wide-eyed. “Now.” He commanded.

“Yes, daddy.” 

Ass up, just like he asked, he slapped your asscheek. You felt his chest against your back and his breath on the shell of your ear.

“This might hurt a little, just be a good girl for me, okay?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded eagerly.

“What was that? ” He said through clenched teeth.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Atta girl.” 

He slapped your ass again. The head of his cock was jabbing at your entrance, pulsing with desire. He bucked it in his hand and lined it up to your slit and pressed in. Hard.

“Fuuuuuck.” He groaned and you screamed in an odd mixture of pain and pleasure.

He was so big he nearly ripped you in two, yet the way you wrapped tightly around him, sucking him in felt so right. The wetness of his tongue glided up your back and along the side of your neck.

There was a little bit of relief as he pulled his cock out, but then he thrust back in, his balls slapping against your lips so deep it had you seeing stars. Rinse and repeat. In and out, in and out.

His thrusts were angry and unrelenting.

The way he twisted your nipple and squeezed your tit was downright cruel.

You were putty in Joel’s hands and he fucking knew it.

“Please. More. Please, please, please.” The voice that left your lips was hoarse and desperate but you needed it. You needed him.

At the back of your neck, you felt the weight of his calloused palm pinning you down. 

“Such a tight little thing. Fuckin’ mine.” He grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eye. “You got that? Say it.”

“I’m yours, Joel.”

Somehow, his cock pulsed and stretched you even more to the brim. The feel of your slick mixed with his juice was oozing out of you, trickling down your leg.

One hand still pinning you down, Joel’s other hand was now petting your swollen heat. 

“Fuck, baby, I ain’t gonna hold out much longer. You’re so good to me. So tight. ‘m gonna cum in this wet pussy.”

“Joel, I’m gonna cum…” You trailed off, but you were already on the edge. His fingers were rubbing you at just the right speed, and his dirty sweet nothings were setting you ablaze. 

He continued to rub and thrust at just the right angle, the squelching sound of his cock pumping in and out of your sex only further heightened your arousal. 

In the heat of the moment, you didn’t even care that Joel was on the brink of filling you with his seed. You were dazed, delirious, and desperate. The three dangerous Ds, because condoms and birth control were a thing of the past. The apocalypse was a gamble for those who wanted to partake in life’s good old-fashioned pleasures.

You were ready to take that risk for the brief moment of pleasure because Joel had you wrapped around his finger and you were ready to swallow his seed. Hell, your unhinged state didn’t even care if you got pregnant with his baby as he sloppily slammed his cock into you, groaning and threatening to cum inside you. 

He didn’t seem to care either.

“H-Harder.” You beg, and that was it. That’s what set him over the edge, pouring into you like an explosion of white-hot milk and screaming profanities. He rubbed your clit while he rode his high, and then you came together, jaws slack, eyes rolled. 

Two people who, for a brief moment in time, could indulge in the comfort of each other’s bodies and forget that the world had gone to shit.

Joel flipped you over, his cock still buried inside of you, and leaned down to kiss you. It was a gentle kiss this time. The kiss of a lover. 

There was an undeniable spark between you that transcended beyond a mere one-night stand. Neither of you spoke a word of it. Instead, you fell asleep in his arms, and with his cock going limp inside you.

—------------

“Good morning, Joel.” You pointed two guns at the man as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes.

When he made sense of the situation, he chuckled darkly, wiping his face with his hands.

“Oh, darlin’, you are full of surprises ain’t ya?” His chocolate-brown eyes landed on yours and you felt your heart skip a beat, your grip on both guns loosened in a moment of weakness.

“Told ya I know how to take care of myself.”

“I can see that.” He put his arms behind his head, looking far too relaxed for a man who had two bullets aimed at him. “Did your daddy send you out to do this?”

You smirked, eyes flicking over to the old map that you made sure to leave on the table.

“I’m not gonna shoot you. Just wanted to say goodbye.” 

He licked his teeth and nodded.

“See ya, cowboy.”

And then you left him there and something tugged at you to stay but you didn’t, because you knew that it would be the death of you if you did.

“You want to tell me why the fuck you have Joel Miller’s gun?” your dad asked when you made it back to the base.

Dad had found out you left and had his guys check you for bites. When they did, they found the gun marked with an ‘M’, which was something Joel did to all of his weapons. Weapons that he stole.

“I was just helping us out a little, Dad.”

[meanbossart]

Ask compilation: DU drow, Orin, Astarion, lore things and little fun facts.

Trying to make a dent in this dang inbox. As always, thank you so much everyone for your patience and curiosity! Sorry that it is straight up no longer possible for me to reply to everyone, but I will keep doing my best within reason. Enjoy!

Absolutely! I had a lot of requests for bottom Astarion on my patreon which is why I was kind of on a roll there for a minute.

Though, for the record - I am really not very invested in strict bedroom roles at all. Or clear and distinct dominant/submissive dynamics. So please don't overthink it whenever there's a switch, no pun intended.

You wanna know how often they smash? Man, I don't know, I guess fairly often considering their lifestyle post-game (very active, often on the road).

Assuming that everyone agrees that sex doesn't have to involve penetration, I'd say once every other day or less, really depends on the circumstances though. DU drow's libido is much higher than Astarion's, but he's not an animal and can hold off fine. Astarion is likely to be pickier in regards to location and how-recently-have-we-bathed status as well.

I keep meaning to draw him, but I have like... A million things I want to do 😂 so its rough!

BUT you will at least continue to see him in ANE! And I'm sure i'm bound to draw him again in the future.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

If you mean in his bhaalist "AU", where he has the red robe and the extra scars, I imagine he would have gotten it through killing Isobel.

I think as a changeling she probably has the ability to just... Transform her hair however she likes at will, right? And based on her attitude plus some lines we get from Sceleritas about her own former-butler, it sounds like she would be really opposed to being serviced in that way, to me at least.

I see her as pretty aggressively independent with the way she operates, which is another factor that sets her apart from DU drow, who really enjoyed lording over the other Bhaalists and making an errand boy out of Sceleritas, to the point where he practically depended on their help to function.

Neither! I wasn't willing to let anyone take either of my eyes in my first playthrough, LOL.

I have since always given the Volo eye to SOMEONE, usually Gale, but I don't consider that canonical. I don't think anyone was desperate enough to let mister frumpy-hat over there ice-pick their eyes out.

He did do them himself. It was a profoundly stupid display he got caught up in because of Gortash. Also, de-handment is kind of a theme in his life, at least inside his head.

I have a comic about it planned for the future ;)

What do you mean, that's canonical to the game and everything! He loves the cuck chair!

He is an angsty 29-year old in denial. Your interpretation is still perfectly accurate.

Hates the guy. Hates when Shadowheart Astarion people joke about him being the Drizzt of his generation. Hates the guy like literally any countercultural weirdo hates Taylor Swift or the Weeknd. If he saw him at the line in the grocery store DU drow would find a way to roll his eyes loudly just so he could notice being an asshole.

Stay tuned, I'm cooking 🧑‍🍳

If you're asking about game strats, badly, LOL. Pretty sure I died twice to her in my first run and it was a rough way of being thrown into "serious" DnD combat.

With the exception of a couple of encounters that just so happened to turn out SURPRISINGLY cinematic, I'm just realizing that I actually don't think too often about how most of the fights went in real-time! I imagine Autie Ethel's in particular wasn't one that DU drow went into of his own accord, probably rather at a companion's insistence. That's as deep as I've thought about that personally.

Now... Back to game strats. I personally try to get a surprise round on her however I can by sneaking and shooting an arrow or AOE in her general location, since she always stands on roughly the same spot while invisible. I have my companions spread about the arena so we can take her clones down as fast as possible, and as soon as I identify who the real Ethel is I just have the strongest martial characters wail on her until she begs to be let go. Hers is one of the few fights that is actually pretty dang easy at this point for me - and I SUCK at this game.

That would certainly take a while! But, Bhaalist DU drow does kind of have an end goal, actually.

That might also turn into a comic eventually, but it would a rough one.

He pretty swiftly disposed of her, DU drow doesn't like being talked down to, which Minthara very promptly does. Him (and I, by extension) had very limited exposure to her and she was just kind of a speck of dust in his story in particular. Though I have since grown to adore her character in my proceeding runs where I do recruit her!

I guess if he got an invitation and it wasn't particularly painful to arrive at the venue, sure! He would specially love to take Astarion to Gale's wedding ceremony and purposely upstage him at every at every opportunity, LOL.

Yes. He got pretty freaky with the pain-priest. This is gonna sound like a lie but I made him get naked for it without even knowing there was a buff to be gained (I didn't get it, unfortunately, I don't remember whether I failed a check or if I had camp clothes toggled on, so it didn't count as being truly nude). I wasn't taking the game very seriously and just doing dumb roleplay things to see what would happen, LOL.

And I consider that canonical. I think DU drow saw the opportunity to show off his physique And had a strange inkling that this was a practice he was... Somehow familiar with.

Imagine my joy when Astarion and Shadowheart start having a back-and-forth about my absurd display. That's when i knew those were my people, to be honest.

[cranberrv]

⪩⪨ dating johnny cade headcanons

a/n : i hate this, i’m so sorry this took me all of 15 minutes but i needed to post something !!!!! maybe ill make a better version sometime, stay tuned <3 requests open btw (not proofread not proofread ignore any mistakes lovely)

- you’re his saviour

- you know the saying, ‘when you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light?’

- you’re his light

- if he’s having a bad day or his parents have kicked him out again, guess who he’s going to?

- not even to talk about it, just to be surrounded by this warmth that makes him forget about all his problems

- unlike dallas, he loves hugs and cuddling all. the. time.

- well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. he hates cuddling in front of the gang. the gang will just tease him but his relationship with you is something he doesn’t wanna be teased about

- he doesn’t like big gestures

- he’s not the type to write you a poem (ponyboy cough cough) and he’s not the type to buy you cliche gifts like chocolate and flowers

- he does things that mean something, like a necklace with your favourite flower on it, a shirt of a band you two like listening to together

- one of his favourite pastimes is listening to music w you actually!

- i like to think johnny really likes music, like elvis and van morrison

- he’ll always buy new cassettes to listen to with you

- he wishes he could take you to concerts, but he’s too broke for that :(

- ugh i should probably move on but imagine spooning with johnny on your bed listening to music that’s adorable

- if he sees you laughing with a guy he doesn’t know or trust, he’ll feel a mix of jealous and insecure

- he doesn’t act on his jealousy, he just patiently waits until it’s his turn to talk to you

- if you bring up that he’s acting up, he’s not gonna talk about it, denying it

- “nah man idk what you mean, im fine”

- you guys argue occasionally, but only about things that really matter

- he doesn’t want you talking to socs, or you don’t want him to live with his parents anymore

- it’s a reasonable and patient conversation over an argument in his mind

- he has never made you cry and never will, or else he’ll cry

- sitting in the lot gazing up at the stars is his idea of a date. pointing out the moon and making a wish on the first star. smoking cigarettes and sitting back on the cheap fabric of some old thrown-out furniture

- him wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him, the two of you falling asleep under the stars

- sometimes you’ll catch him just staring at you. not in a creepy or weird way, just admiring.

- noticing his shoulders relax when he’s in a poor mood but then suddenly you come around is your favourite feeling

- he makes you feel so special, like you’re worth a million bucks

- he practically worships the ground you walk on (and vice versa!)

- puppy love

- you two like each other soooo much and it’s so obvious

- sometimes he gets a little insecure around the gang or socs, not being all mushy (not like he usually is anyway)

- he’s usually more reserved, saving the cuddling and gifts for alone time

- anyway you two are in love probably and it’s really cute

- sorry lovely this was rly rushed :( ill post a better version soon 💋

[luvzxr]

Little Pougie

Hi! I'm back from a long break. I've been working on this book that originally is posted on wattpad and it's ongoing currently. I wanted to branch out from my previous posts from video games to shows as well.

This story also is originally using my OC's name and I'm not very good with coming up with alternatives to make the story for people who want to use their OC's or their own names. I will do my best though because I also don't like using the (Y/N) stuff but we shall see. anyways, onto chapter one.

Next chapter

01. Kegger

I wish I had stayed at home, curled up on the couch with my hair up in a messy bun and some stupid microwaveable meal on the coffee table in front of me. I wish I never let my older brother, John B, rip me away from the comfort of our own home to come to a kegger, or in other words- a party that I most certainly did not want to attend.

"John B," I tugged the hem of his loosely worn shirt. I've been so uneasy the entire night I've completely forgotten what it means to be content, "when are we leaving?"

"Just a little longer, Poguie. I promise," He gave a soft but playful nudge with his elbow.

'Just a little longer' means we'll be here till daybreak or until I pester him enough to drive me home himself. Time meant nothing to him when a Pouge party was happening.

I was more than eager to go back home and I grew more and more impatient the longer I stood there in hopes John B would change his mind and offer me a ride home of his own free will but that would only happen if hell froze over.

Pouges had no reason to throw parties, they just would and at this point being the sister of one and considered one myself by our peers and friends you would think I'd have no problem with participating but the word parties always left a bitter taste on the tip of my tongue. In what way does a night filled with hammered teenagers and raging migraines the next morning sound appealing?

The time we spent there grew longer and once it hit ten o'clock I couldn't take it anymore and made the utter decision to leave my older brother's side and push past the sweaty bodies and blotched faces.

I was sure that John B would grow increasingly tense once he'd start to realize my absence and after having practically the whole town on a wild goose chase- only to find me safely at home and also find time to lecture me about how I need to stay with him at all times. Yet I couldn't find even just an ounce in me to care about the repercussions of leaving on my own.

Luckily, none of John B's friends were around to stop me from reaching the main road, as everyone I left behind were either trying to find any way possible of getting a free hook up or a free buzz.

All I could keep my mind set on was crashing on the couch and tuning out to either The Vampire Diaries or jamming out to a random playlist of mine on the stereo. To some that might be one of the most boring activities you could be doing on a Friday night but to me it sounded like absolute bliss.

I wanted to die, After what felt like hours of heaving and gasping for air, I had finally reached the house where I could kick off my Chuck Taylor's and crash on the couch with my original plan. But first, I needed a snack because my stomach was probably on the verge of kicking my own butt if I didn't prioritize the next five seconds of finding something to satisfy the hunger.

I make my way to our kitchen, flicking on the light, and began scanning through the different varieties of food held within the cabinets and fridge. I quickly settled with a chocolate pudding cup stashed in the very back of our cabinet that seemed my brother tried to hide so desperately.

"Little Pouge?"

"Jesus!" I shrieked, practically throwing my enclosed pudding cup as a poor excuse for self-defense. If there was an actual intruder he'd probably have already made off with what we had left that was considered valuable.

I relax my nerves upon seeing a much more familiar blonde boy standing in the doorway and not an intruder ready to high-tail out of here with whatever he could.

"Sorry." a sheepish grin creeping on his face, "didn't mean to startle you, Little one."

JJ Maybank is my big brother's best friend since the third grade and he's also one of the very few people I didn't mind stopping by whenever he felt like it and lounge around the house as if he lived here himself. He's been in my life for as long as I could even remember because John B was never without him and ever since our father went missing it was always me, John B, and JJ so that surely helped our bond develop over time.

'Little Pouge' however was a nickname given to me by my brother and his friends. It was something the Pouges wanted to have special for me considering to them that 'y/n/n' was too bland to call me. I don't know a single one of them who doesn't call me Little Pouge or Pougie. That nickname has been with me for so long that even Kooks seem to be catching onto the idea of being referred to as those rather than my birth name.

Many Kooks have tried calling me the nickname's just to get under John B's skin or even JJ's but a lot of the time that ended in the boys beating a Kook to a pulp and the rest of their night spent in a six by eight foot holding cell and the horrible back pains that came with it in the morning when I'd bail them out.

I feel my face grow hot from embarrassment, "What are you doing here JJ?"

"John B couldn't find you so he sent me out looking for ya," he says, giving a curt nod towards the direction behind him, indicating my brother sent him out to hunt me down.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. John B acts as if I can't spend even just a little bit of time by myself anywhere and that I constantly need someone to watch over me like a little kid- I'm not a little kid, I'm a year younger than him, and perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

I let out a groan, "I'm not a little kid, JJ. When is he going to understand that."

He made his way over to me, leaning forward so that he could rest his elbow on the countertop and his chin in the palm of his hand.

"He's just worried about you (y/n). You're the only family he's got left other than our little group as far as he knows." JJ states. "Plus, with all the Kooks at the party too he was worried that maybe one of 'em kidnapped ya."

"Hm."

"Ah Princess, don't be like that. He's looking out for you." He ruffles my hair.

He gave a soft grin before making his way over to the couch, swinging himself over the top and landing perfectly in a comfortable seated position.

Why does he never just walk around the side like a normal person?

Not long after JJ made himself comfortable on the couch is when I decided to do the same thing.

I take a good look at him, at his side profile, the way he clenches his jaw ever so slightly out of pure justification. His father had beat on him so many times he'd probably never have the same jaw alignment as he once had and a part of me wished that I was closer to him than just his best bud's little sister because he didn't open up to anyone, he doesn't allow anyone to get too close to him and in a way I understand.

Being as close to JJ as I was now I could smell the severe alcohol on his breath. It was no secret that Pouges drank, it was more common than you'd actually think but I could only imagine how his liver must have felt and practically beg him to take a break. On top of that, I also knew JJ was into a lot of different kinds of substances. He used those as an escape route, a way to completely make the pain go away for a temporary amount of time before he had to rejoin the rest of us in reality.

He tended to do his best to stay away from pain, choosing to ignore anything and everything that even remotely had the chance to trigger the emotion. He tried to bottle all of it up and throw it out the window as if it had never existed in the first place but like every human being, there comes a time when that glass bottle fills to the brim and then it explodes.

"JJ."

"Hm?" He raised an eyebrow, turning his head towards me to give his full attention.

I paused. He wasn't going to like the question I had in store for him so was I really ready to potentially ruin the small, yet sweet relationship I had with him? Over being a little too nosey for my own good.

I decided against it and just shook my head, "How was the party?"

He tilted his head to the side, his tongue slid between both sets of his teeth and his mouth making the ever so slightest oval like he usually does- He was confused, and rightfully so. This man has been around since before my childbirth and every step after that, it was hard to keep anything from him. That is if he's sober.

Fortunately enough for me, he was not and wasn't the sharpest when it came to being intoxicated. JayJ and his love for alcohol for once actually saved us a conversation that I don't think either of us were fully ready to have. Nonetheless, the question still raked through my mind and I was only hoping that the curiosity wouldn't power through.

Why does he resort to things that destroy him? Does he seriously think that low of himself?

[cartierre]

COMO TE QUIERO YO | ln4

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU lando norrix x latina!reader

♡ liked by carlossainz55, felipedrugovich and 264,394 others

lando.jpg cabo san lucas, mexico. summer break 2022

view all 1,380 comments

daniel3.jpg oh la la! ⤷ user1 DANNY HAHAHAHA

user2 does lando have a new girlfriend or am i tripping rn cuz i know this isn't luisa ⤷ user3 how can you tell ⤷ user2 cuz she posted a story where she was in paris with friends ⤷ user4 they broke up like two months ago or so ⤷ user5 i feel sorry for whoever this girl is because she probably is just a rebound ⤷ user6 not y'all assuming about their relationship lmao

♡ liked by daniel3.jpg and 298,420 others

lando.jpg late night shenanigans

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user7 what kind of summer is lando having this boy is out here wilding around

user8 L-LANDO IS THIS ALLOWED ⤷ user9 did he just post some girl's tramp stamp??

daniel3.jpg "summer's" been treating you good mate ⤷ user10 daniel teasing lando through the comments takes the cake ⤷ user11 i just know the drivers' gc is going bonkers rn

♡ liked by 29,310 people

tagged: landonorris

f1wagupdates New girlfriend alarm? Lando Norris was spotted picking up a girl in his McLaren from the airport. Is this the girl he posted multiple pictures of during his trip through Mexico? Many say he was looking for a rebound after his break-up with long term girlfriend Luisinha Oliveira, but does someone fly their rebound out to their hometown? Guess we'll have to stay tuned for more!

view all 763 comments

user12 lando is so whipped ⤷ user13 the power of latinas ⤷ user14 amen

user15 he flew her out to monaco after his trip? bro must be in love love ⤷ user16 guess we'll see if he also brings her to bahrain after the summer break is over

user17 i think i found her insta, i'm not sure because lando doesn't follow but her posts align with his' ⤷ user18 okay stalker... what's her @? ⤷ user17 yourusername

♡ liked by 9,293 others

yourusername guess i could get used to frequent trips to monaco

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user18 and we're sure she's not just some girl? ⤷ user19 yeah i mean just because she's mexican and now conveniently is in monaco doesn't mean she's the girl lando's been messing around with

user20 if this is the girl lando's with, geez my boy has some good karma ⤷ user21 yeah like why yould someone as pretty as her sleep with someone as crusty as lando ⤷ user22 wdym 'crusty' lando's actually really pretty ⤷ user23 he behaves like a child

♡ liked by 13,293 others

yourusername tiro caliente (hot shot)

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user24 omg she's dropping some serious hints guys ⤷ user25 the breadcrumps we needed

user26 the orange car? lando? i mean... ⤷ user27 how many people own an orange mclaren. it's obvious at this point it's lando

♡ liked by yourusername, daniel3.jpg and 321,987 others

tagged: danielricciardo

lando.jpg princess treatment after a tough weekend

view all 2,391 comments

daniel3.jpg are you getting the princess treatment? ⤷ user28 i hope lando does lmao

user29 omg yourusername actually liked this post??? ⤷ user30 this is a sign, the sign we've been waiting for. it's her

yourusername the only treatment one deserves ⤷ user31 it'S YOU

♡ liked by landonorris and 21,292 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername 4 lifers

view all 293 comments

user32 i- what ⤷ user33 this was so unexpected ⤷ user34 was it?

landonorris did my pr team give you the go? ⤷ yourusername they love me ⤷ user35 someone tell me if this is sarcasm or not

♡ liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 349,394 others

tagged: yourusername

lando.jpg como te quiero yo (how i love you)

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yourusername lando we need to go back to mexico i'm loosing my good tan ⤷ lando.jpg 7 more races until we're back in mexico

user36 yeah okay i understand lando, i'm also in love

user37 still weird how fast he moved on ⤷ user38 he's an f1 driver what did you expect

[drsbutmakeitspicy]

Got some more sad news today, so y'all know what it means

Have some brain vomit - I didn't proof read this so I'm sorry for any mistakes

What about a Carcar fic:

Future au

Single dad!Carlos

Carlos retires in 202x cause he didn't find a seat, everyone had hopes he would come back but he didn't

After a couple of years he is back but as something in McLaren, since Ferrari didn't want anything to do with him anymore and Zak always had the doors open for Carlos.

He doesn't go to a lot of races, mostly stays working in the MTC as a consultant or intern job or any office work

Carlos appears in some marketing videos, as Carlando brings views and watching him and Oscar get extra competitive is always funny

He has a daughter only McLaren crew knows about, Lando is always begging him "This picture of us is so cute! C'mon Carlos let me post it ! No one will know who she is! They will think it's a little fan or maybe one of my nieces!"

The answer is always "No. I want to keep her safe." Still he ask for the pictures so he can save them.

Most times when Lando 'steals her' while Carlos is busy (with his approval) she endup in the care of Oscar, Lando doesn't know what to do when she cries and just pass her over since Oscar calms her down, Oscar who grew up with 3 sisters and knows exactly how to take care of a baby, Oscar who plays and talks with her sweetly but can also tell her no when needed, same Oscar who sometimes can be found inside Carlos office napping with Lando and the little girl on his chest in the kid mat on the corner. (Carlos wakes Lando up first to tell him they will both hear a lot from Andrea for sleeping during work. "Why you never wake Oscar first?" "He sleeps like the dead"

Carlos feels lucky to have both of them, he is a single parent but doesn't think it's fair to leave his baby girl with a nanny all the time. He doesnt bring her everyday, his sister is living near by and suggested to look after her 2 times or more a week "She needs to interact with other kids close to her age." Blanca is right.

His nephew and nieces love his baby girl and it sure helps her learn new stuff

Oscar always point out new things she does and how she is probably copying her cousins "She will be the smartest girl of pre school" the Aussie says while spinning around with her in his arms to a baby tune playing on Oscar's phone while she giggles

And Carlos tries his best to school his expression, tries not to let his gaze focus so much os the Aussies face, he is completely fucked, he has a crush Oscar.

[admirationandromantics]

Going overboard, 10: Repentance

Yeah, you're right, I saved the best gif of him for this chapter. Just to remind everyone, this is not the last chapter!! I'll be posting the epilogue tomorrow, so stay tuned!!! And just a warning that it will be worth it (I mean, you've waited since chapter 5 or something for some more sexy times, right?) Anyways, hope you've enjoyed the story so far, and let me know if you want something else as well. My requests are open! <3

“I mean, I saw that thing from a distance” I start, walking behind Mike. “But it was so incredibly disgusting. The teeth, the skin, everything.”

“Like, I know I’m supposed to love every living thing on this earth, but can that thing be an exception?” Sam asks, and I giggle. 

“Oh yeah, you should’ve seen everyone I saw. They were all different from each other, I mean, they all tried to kill me, but they looked like different people. You know that mining accident I told you about?”

We both nod in unison. 

“The miners that survived resorted to cannibalism, and when they got treated at the Sanatorium, they attacked staff and killed people. I saw a video, medical journals and other stuff. It’s insane.” 

“So there’s more of them?” Sam asks, stopping in her tracks. 

“The one that took Josh, it was bigger than the one we just saw” I comment, getting a sinking feeling in my stomach. 

“So we are up against several of those things?”

“Seems like it” Mike answers, lifting his shoulders and starts walking again. 

“Fucking hell”

I start thinking about the one that took Josh. Something seemed so familiar about it. 

“Don’t know how we didn’t run into any of them last year.” Mike says. 

“Probably purely coincidences that we haven’t, like Chris says, butterfly effects and stuff” Sam wonders, keeping her sight on the path so she doesn’t stumble. The cave inn, how long ago was that?

“Wait, so how old is that thing?” I ask, thinking I’m messing with the wrong numbers. 

“80 years at least” Mike says. 

“Shit”

“I know”

“Spunky for an old timer”

We arrive at a big cave lake, and I look down, checking out the water. 

“I think we’re close” Sam says. 

“How can you tell?”

“I just feel terrible all of a sudden” 

“I get that” 

I touch it with my fingers, surprised by the cold. There’s something odd about it. 

“I don’t want to go in there” Sam exclaims. 

“Seems like there’s no other way through” I comment, looking around. 

“What about there?”

I look over, seeing a path go beside the water. I stand up, walking there with the others. The path is surrounded by water, so there’s no other way for us to continue. I look over the lake, seeing a door on the other side. I think we have to go in it. 

“Oh my god, is that what I think it is?” I hear Sam, turning around I see a large dig up hole. Awfully similar to a grave. Shit. 

“That looks like a grave…” Mike whispers, a bit stunned. Sam walks closer, picking up something laying in the dirt. 

“Fuck, this is Beths!”

“What?” I walk to her, seeing the watch in her hands, with Beth’s name engraved on the back of it. “This is her watch!” 

“What?” Mike repeats, sounding unconvinced. He looks at it, eyes wide in realisation. 

“There was a cross here” I whimper, breath caught in my throat, pointing to a cross lying upside down. 

“So this must’ve been where she was buried” Mike says. 

“But who dug her up?” I ask, chills crawling down my spine. 

“Let’s keep moving” he says, hand on my shoulder. 

“The faster we get away from this mountain, the better” Sam adds, quickly walking in front of us. We get to the lake again, and I take the first step down. 

“God, I did NOT want to get an UTI from this trip” Sam comments. 

“Or hepatitis” Mike adds. 

“I can promise you, in these types of waters, that’s the least of your worries” I say, water reaching to my torso. 

“Jeez, thank you for calming me”

“Just being honest, I thought you loved that about me?” I tease, trying to ignore the coldness. 

“It’s okay Sam” Mike urges, holding out his hand for her. 

“You sure?”

“We’re not dead yet” I whisper. 

“Famous last words” she says before getting in. “Gosh it’s freezing”

“Just keep moving” Mike says. “Nobody likes cold buns… Although both of yours are great”

“Gee thanks Mike, you’re really lightening the mood” I say sarcastically. 

“Always a pleasure”

We make our way to the side, hoping the water is low enough so we don't have to swim. Sam suddenly trips, water almost reaching her shoulders. 

“Shit, I thought you said you reached the deepest parts?” 

“When did I say that?”

“Umm, I don’t know” 

She drags herself up, giving me a hand so I get out easier. 

“What is that?” I point, noticing some papers laying on the ground. 

“Oh shit” Mike exclaims. “That looks like Hannah’s writing. Sam looks over the pages, reading out loudly the writing for us. 

“I’m sorry Beth, I have no choice. It’s the only way I can survive anymore. If someone finds this, I’m sorry. I had to, I had no choice”

“What does that mean?” Mike asks, breathing heavily and quickly. 

“No, no, no, no, no” I exclaim, the pieces coming together. I look at Sam, she gets it as well. 

“What, what is it?” Mike asks, scared but confused. 

“I think… Hannah dug up Beth”

“No, no, no, no” I keep chanting to myself, feeling sick to my stomach. 

“It was Hannah!”

Mike shakes his head in disbelief, but I know he just doesn’t want to believe it. 

“No, that’s - that’s ridiculous” 

“It has to be, it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Think about it” I continue. “Beth died from the fall, so Hannah buried her… She couldn’t move, god knows how long she’d been down here, and she was probably starving”

“I get it, I get it, please don’t say it out loud” Mike scolds, and I shut up. 

There’s still no direct way to the other side, so we have to go into the water again. This time, we’re all silent. We make our way there, Mike going first, followed by Sam and I beside each other. 

“It’s getting deeper” Mike states. 

“Roger that”

“Oh, no it’s getting better”

“Don’t jinx it”

We get to the other side, easier to get out of the water than before. I look around, feeling eyes on me, but can’t see anything out of the ordinary. 

Sam goes straight for the door, pulling the handle hard. The door flies open, water pouring out, making all of us fall to the ground. A head rolls out, landing right beside me, and I shriek from the sight, pushing myself away. 

“Fuck fuck fuck!” 

Everyone stands up, keeping a distance from it. 

“It’s the old man” I whisper, throat closing. 

“Shit, let’s just go, now!” Sam firmly states, taking my arm and dragging me with her. We go inside, and I hold my hand in front of my mouth when I see the man’s body hanging from hooks in the ceiling. We need to go now, I want to get out of here. 

Mike is standing directly under him, a few drops of blood dripping down on him. He looks up, shining the flashlight. 

“Ugh, I’m gonna be sick” he cries, backing away and turning around. I hear small whimpers come from Sam as she clutches her stomach. My body starts shaking, a combination of coldness, wetness and panic. I don’t want to end up like that, none of us do…

“Wait” Sam stops us. “Do you hear that?” We stay silent, trying to hear whatever she’s alluding to. I try, but the explosion I caused with Chris must’ve damaged something. Mike moves to a wall, telling us to look. I walk over, seeing Josh walking around in circles, clutching his head and talking to himself. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no. I don’t take orders from you!” 

“Josh!” I yell, running to the door, trying to pry it open. Mike shoves in front of me, opening the door with ease and letting me run over. 

“You can’t tell me what to do”

“Josh” I say, my voice barely over a whisper. I try to take his hand, but he seems completely oblivious to my touch. 

“No, no, I told you, you can’t tell me what to do anymore”

Mike and Sam approach, saying his name and trying to get his attention. 

“No, okay fine. I trust you. I trust you” he continues, his eyes seeming like they’re in a completely different place. 

“What’s the matter with him?” Mike asks. 

“He’s tripping or something. Having an episode” I answer, scared and confused. 

“Hit him” Mike says, and I look at him with a ‘wtf’-expression. He pushes past me, lifting his hand and slapping him straight across the face. 

“Mike” I yell, moving my hand to soothe his chin. “Josh!” he screams in his face. 

“M-Mike?” Josh whispers, some of him coming back to the present. He looks down on me, his eyes calming down and breathing steadying. 

“Hi Josh, it’s us, you’re okay”

“Please, d-don’t hit me again” 

“No, no, I would never” I tell him, shooting a glare at Mike. 

“Hey, it worked” he tells me, and I don’t know how to respond. It did work, I would never have done it myself. “He was in deep, full mental jacket”

“We didn’t think we’d get you back” Sam adds. 

“Josh, Hannah was down here for… weeks? A month? She dug Beth up…”

“Sam” I warn. This is not what he needs right now. 

“Let’s just get the fuck out of here” Mike says, already starting to make his way out. 

“Okay, Josh? Do you have the key for the cable car?” I ask, trying to be as calm as possible. 

“Uhh, yeah, yeah, here” he hands it to me. Hands touching. I hold onto him a little longer. His hands are cold and dry, streaks of red covering them. I kiss him on the cheek, thanking him. He looks taken aback, and I don’t know if I went too far too fast, but there’s nothing changing it now. 

“See that over there?” Sam points. “That means a direct way out, come on”

I look up, a long rock wall. I could probably make it, Sam definitely would. 

“There’s no way Josh is making it up there” Mike says, an arm around him. 

“Okay, we split” Sam says. 

“What?” I ask, not wanting to be separated. 

“Two up, and two out from down here” Sam says, and Mike nods. 

“Okay, I’ll take Jos-” I start, but Sam interrupts me. 

“I need you. The wall, we’re the fastest, and the best climbers. Josh is safe with Mike”

“But-”

“No buts” Mike says. “We do it like that, we’ll be quick, I promise”. I sigh in reply, moving forward, putting one of my hands behind Josh’s neck and kissing him. I don’t care that the others are watching, I just need him to know how I’ve felt and how I feel. He kisses me back, hands moving to my waist. 

���I’ve missed you” I whisper, low enough so only he hears it. “When we’re off this mountain, we’ll talk, okay?” I ask, still in a low voice. He nods in reply, a little smile creeping to his lips. 

“We’ll go tell the others that we’re okay” Sam says. 

“Yeah, good” Mike replies. 

“Bring Josh back the way we came and we’ll meet at the lodge” I say firmly. 

“Be careful”

“You too” we both say in unison. Mike gives us both a push before continuing back to where we came from. Josh’s eyes remain on me, and I feel like I left a piece of me. 

We climb up the wall, getting up to the second half. I look up, seeing ice and snow. 

“How do we do that?” I ask, getting shivers already. 

“By having a good grip” she replies, starting to climb. 

“Well, fuck it” I whisper as I do the same. I grab hold of a branch, managing to lift myself up the entire way. We both get up, being met with the snowstorm. 

The path is still visible, and we waste no time walking. We both jog, not too slow, and not too quick. 

“God, it’s cold” Sam complains, and I look over. She’s still wearing the training gear, legs and arms very exposed. 

“Hey, take this” I say, giving her my bloodied scarf. I’m only wearing a sweater, a singlet underneath. There would be no point giving her that. 

“Thanks” 

The path leads to an icy pond, not completely frozen, just the edges. There’s no way around it. 

“Why does it have to be today?” she asks, not expecting an answer. 

“Come on” I tell her, getting into the icy water. I bite my teeth together, never before have I been so cold. I can’t talk, I can barely move. She gets in, and makes exactly the same expression. We have to be quick, both probably suffering from hypothermia already. We walk over, the water getting deeper with each step, but finally, we’re on the other side. I help her up, limbs frozen and red. 

Suddenly, we both hear a horrific scream. The wendigo. It must be close. Fuck. We both start running for our lives, jumping over trees and taking sharp swings. Finally the lodge comes to our vision, and we run for the door. I try to open it, but it’s locked. I start banging, praying that the others will hear me. 

“Let us in!”

“Get it open, get it open!” Sam urges, twitching and shivering behind me. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”

A hand goes on my shoulder, and we turn around to find Mike and Josh standing there, panting and shivering as well. They’re both scratched up and dirty, more than when we left them. 

“Shit, guys” I pant, almost not being able to breathe. 

“You look terrible” Sam says, looking them both up and down. 

“We’re gonna look worse if we stay out here”

I give Sam a determined look, and pick up a rock from the ground. 

“Yeah, good idea” she compliments, arms around herself for a little warmth. I throw the rock through the window, sneaking my hand in and unlocking it from inside. We all run in, closing the door behind us. Sam turns on the light.

“Not good” Mike says as he turns it off again. 

“What should we do?” I ask, nervous and cold. 

“We should check the basement, might be someone left there” Mike replies, walking to the stairs. I take Josh’s hand in mine, and he takes the whole of me into a big hug. I finally feel tears coming, coating his shoulder. 

“I love you” I whisper between sobs, holding him even harder. 

“I love you too” he whispers lovingly, his voice finally sounding sure and true. I pull away, and he dries my tears before I can. I smile, thinking wow, we might actually survive. I hold his hand in mine, leading him down the stairs to the others. When we’re halfway there, we’re met with screams, and Emily, Ashley and Chris running up past us. 

“Run!” Mike yells as he comes towards us. Josh starts moving up the stairs, but I see Sam just standing still, unable to move. I run down, grabbing her arm firmly and dragging her with me. 

“Get it together!” I state as we run up the stairs, immediately coming to a halt. 

The wendigo, the big one who took Josh, is standing on the ornament hanging from the ceiling. Thankfully, I’m right next to Josh, and I look at him in the side vision, telling him not to move. All of us are standing completely still, the wendigo not being able to locate any of us, yet. I hear the others come up from the cellar, running up the stairs and catching the big one’s attention. They all look at each other, before going off, two of them hitting and biting. I hear someone run out the lodge, and I carefully look back, seeing Emily and Ashley taking small steps backwards. I signal to Josh, carefully grabbing the back of his overalls and taking a step back. It works well, the monsters being too occupied to notice any of us. We’re right by the door when I see the big one rip the other’s head off. Mike has been slowly moving, but suddenly, the wendigo sets his mind on him. 

“Hey!” Sam yells, and I struggle to hold my mouth shut. No, no, no. Not Sam, please. I hear the monster yell again, turning away from us. I take my chance, grabbing Josh’s hand and running out. Outside, I find Emily and Chris, both standing beside each other, not making a sound. We make our way over to them, looking inside for the others. Ashley comes running out, getting among us. I see Mike in the opening, waiting for something. Suddenly, he runs toward us, Sam in his heels, who switches the light on, causing the whole lodge to explode in flames. Sam shouts as she’s thrown forward by the explosion, Mike falling, and everyone else being blasted into the snow. I feel hands move around me as I hit the ground. 

A few seconds go by, the sound of burning wood and the smell of rotten flesh fills the area. A light is seen, and we all look up as a helicopter lands.