#the chance of me drawing more of this is slim at least for a while | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hayatoseyepatch · 1 month ago

Text

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: Karasu thought you needed to stop spending so much time online, especially after you let your doom-scrolling lead you to ask him to fuck you in a Ghostface mask. But hey, what was he if not an accommodating partner, he did so love it when you screamed. 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗: Tabito Karasu (Blue Lock) 𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2k 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘: Fem!Reader x Karasu. SMUT. 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: Hunter/prey dynamics, mask kink, degradation, praise, penetrative sex, spanking, mentions of slut/whore, choking, dacryphilia.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: This is one of my two submissions for the "No, You Hang Up" Ghostface server collab that I'm hosting with our other server owner @rindous-starlight for our server! This was so much fun to do and thanks to everyone who voted on my poll a little while ago to help me select the characters! I hope you enjoy, the full masterlist for my kinktober can be found here.

“You want me to do what?”

The laughter following your boyfriend’s statement makes your cheeks flush, almost embarrassed for asking. However, truth be told there was just something about the idea of Karasu chasing you, his identity “concealed” before fucking you in the woods behind your home. In the moment you had, shrugged it off as a joke, that you hadn’t been serious upon your boyfriend’s reaction. However, he knew better than that, knowing just how serious you had been. And if Karasu was honest with himself he couldn’t deny the way his cock throbbed at the idea. He just needed to find the perfect time to execute his plan.

You had been alone that night, Karasu having told you he was too tired to drive back from practice and he’d be crashing at Hiori’s. So why was it that you had gotten a notification that there was movement in your back ring camera? Brushing it off as the stray cats you and Karasu fed, grabbing a bowl of food and taking it outside, only for the door to slam shut behind you. Panicking, in nothing more than your house slippers and one of Karasu’s jerseys, you try the doorknob. Locked. Sighing, at least you both kept a key hidden by the front door, before you could go anywhere you felt a hand curl around your throat. Ice flooded your veins as a muffled voice met your ear.

“Don’t you know never to come to the door when you’re all alone pretty little dove.”

The grip on you was lose, allowing you to easily break free. Adrenaline surging, your feet carrying you before your brain could catch up, fight or flight kicking in. Making your second mistake of the evening, you ran into the woods that bled into the back of your shared home. Running through the wooded area as fast as your feet would carry you, dodging between trees as you tried to put as much distance between you and the mysterious figure as possible. Once you were sure you had done just that, you pressed your back against a tree, concealed from sight as you caught your breath. Hand over your mouth to muffle your shaky breaths as to not draw attention to yourself. However, it seemed there hadn’t been enough distance, watching as the figure walked past the tree you were hiding behind, mask concealing his face as his voice rang out once more.

“Haven't you ever watched a scary movie, dove? Don’t you know you never run into the woods?”

The voice carried through the night, but now that your heart wasn’t racing in your ears from fear, you quickly recognized the voice. Karasu? Your heart now raced for a different reason, realizing he had set you up. Telling you a lie earlier to catch you off guard, to make this feel more real. Karasu was nothing if not thorough, putting his all into all he did, this was no different it seemed. You werent sure if your relief outweighed your fear anymore though. Karasu was a professional athlete, body honed after years of training. And one thing you knew for certain from watching his games was that he was fast. Incredibly so. Which meant the chances of out running him were slim to none. But that wouldn’t stop you from trying.

Your feet slam against the ground as you ran in the opposite direction of his footsteps. Karasu’s ears perked immediately, the sound of branches snapping under your feet alerting him to your location. He was quick to turn on his heel, long strides having him caught up to your form within moments. Large hands reaching out to grip your hips, pulling you flush against him, knowing if it weren't for the mask you would feel his breaths on the back of your neck.

“Gotcha, sweetheart.”

He purrs, hands roaming your body, one settling around your throat while the other pushed the hem of his jersey up past your hips. He groans upon realizing you were in nothing but a cute pair of panties underneath, taking advantage of your state of undress as he slides his fingers past the waistband of your panties. His eyes rolling back in his head upon being met with your drenched cunt, sliding two fingers past your entrance with ease from the sheer amount of slick that seeped from your opening.

“God.” He groaned, dragging out the word, fingers delving deeper into your cunt. “You're fucking drenched. You this wet from being fucking chased by a stranger? God you're such a good little slut for me, baby.” He slid his fingers from your walls, the pads of his fingers circling your clit, relishing in the delicious sounds he pulls from you. Eventually he pulls away fully, swiping a foot under your own sending you to the ground below. You squeal form your loss of balance, just managing to catch yourself on your hands and knees. Karasu was quick to drop to his own, a strong hand finding purchase on your back, forcing your back to arch and expose your ass to him. He tosses up the hem of his jersey, hooking two fingers in your panties to tug them to the side. You let out a shiver as the cold autumn air hits your now exposed cunt. Karasu lands a harsh slap to your ass, followed by three more in quick succession, using your distraction from the sting as a means to lower the sweatpants from his hips. His cock springs free from the material, slamming the entirety of his length past your velvety walls with ease due to just how wet you were for him.

“God, princess you’re sucking me in like such a good fucking slut.”

He groans, his setting a steady pace, a thumb parting your folds so he can watch his cock disappear inside you with every pass of his hips. With one hand he grabbed you by your arms crossing them using them as handlebars to pull you back on his cock, only to bounce you back with every harsh thrust. He picks up speed, allowing you to hear all the filthy noises he was making while pounding into you with abandon. He let out a strangled groan, your velvety walls suffocating his cock as he fucked you. He wasn’t sure if it was the remnants of adrenaline from you earlier chase or if he was just so into the way this scenario allowed for him to use you completely in a way he never had, but he could feel himself losing control. Releasing the grip he had on your arms, he lets his hand come down on your ass once more, taking pleasure in knowing your skin would darken from the blood rushing to the impacted area.

“God, dove, so fucking good.” He droned, gripping the flesh of your ass to force you back on him. “This fucken pussy drives me insane, tryin’ to fucken milk me for all I’m worth, isn’t that right my pretty little dove.”

He continues his assault, missing the feel of your skin under his mouth but god if you were this wet from him fucking you with a mask on, who was he to complain? He never knew he would be so into it, but he’d be lying if he said this wasn’t the hottest sex the two of you had ever had. Karasu’s hand wrapped around your neck, bringing you flush against his chest as he fucked up into your cunt. Karasu’s much larger frame always made it so easy for him to manhandle you into whatever position he pleased. He kept with his brutal pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the woods. Groaning, the feeling of your slick against his thighs as your cunt gushed for him was sure to drive him mad.

“God kitten, you feel how fucking wet you are? So wet over getting fucked by someone whose face you can't even see.” He groans, laughing sadistically, the sound being muffled by the mask that still covered his face. “What a good girl you are, doing so well for me. Such a good fucken kitten”

He used his free hand that wasn't wrapped around your neck to reach around to rub harsh slow circles into your clit. The movement of his fingers in time with the thrusting of his hips. Your eyes rolled back in your head, the rough terrain of the ground below digging into your knees adding a delicious mix of pain into the pleasure you were receiving, making your head fuzzy. After a few moments of his ruthless attack on your poor cunt, he slowed his movements to a halt, grinning beneath the mask at the delicious whine it pulled from deep within your throat. He kept his movements slow, dragging his cock in and out of your cunt slowly, allowing you to feel every inch and vein of his dick. His movements were so incredibly frustrating just enough to keep you on the edge of what you needed most. Eventually, his movements stopped altogether, pulling out of your cunt, rewarded with a desperate whimper from you. At this rate he didn’t even need to ask, begs and pleas falling from your lips in a desperate scramble, needing so badly for him to make you cum.

“Please Tabito.. please, wanna come, please.. I don't care baby just need to come all over your cock, need to feel you come inside my cunt want you to breed my pussy Tabito.”

Your pleas were like music to his ears, pulling a groan from him. You felt the world shift, him easily manhandling you to lay on your back beneath him. “I wanna see that beautiful face, when you cream all over my cock, dove. I want to see every face you make while I fuck you baby. I want watch you go dumb on my cock like the slut you are. Wanna watch you come undone on my cock.

He growled, your tear-stained cheeks and completely fucked expression had him wasting no time slipping back into the drenched walls of your pussy. He ripped the mask off with one hand, throwing it god knows where as his hips resumed their abuse on your cunt. Two large hands found the backs of your knees, forcing them to your chest so his cock could reach even deeper inside of you. Your cries muffled as he finally kisses you, tongue invading your mouth instantly. The kiss is desperate, filled with need, his thrusts were getting sloppy, letting you know it wasn’t just you who was reaching the precipice of orgasm. Karasu gripped at the plush of your thighs, being sure to hit every single nerve and spot inside your cunt. He could feel the clenching, the want, the desperate need for you to come all over his cock.

He attacked your neck, leaving kisses and bites along the surface area of your exposed skin. He lets out a breathy chuckle, seeing the way you had thrown your head back, making a sad attempt to meet his thrusts with your own hips. You sob, moaning almost embarrassingly loud as he hits every spot, angling his hips just right in the ways only he knows how to. His ministrations finally being enough to throw you over the edge. He feels your thighs clamp shut over his hips, body violently shaking with cries as you came. Walls clamping down on him in a vice grip, eventually hurtling him towards his own release. So lost in pleasure as he paints your walls white in his cum, he is barely aware of the added moisture from you having squirted all over him. He slows his hips, riding out your highs until the point of overstimulation, a shudder wracking his spine as he stills. His head dropping into your neck as he catches his breaths, a breathy laugh leaving him.

“Who knew all it would take for you to do that was to chase your horny ass through the woods, little bird.”

𝕯𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖇𝖞 @/𝖈𝖆𝖋𝖊𝖐𝖎𝖙𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖊 & @/𝖘𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖐𝖆-𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖘.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @littleplantfreak @maruflix @umemiaa @stunies @eevees-hobbies @143-ilyuu @uzxotic @princesstiti14 (𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙/𝖉𝖒/𝖆𝖘𝖐 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖆𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖘) (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

342 notes · View notes

gangplanksorenji · 10 months ago

Text

Kinknuary Day 21: Facefucking

Pairing: Billlie Sheon x Male Reader

Word Count: 5,212

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

--------------------------------------

Her semantics was probably not hypocrisy, but rather, sophistication—more so, onto the field of genuine epitomes of everything you can think of and you're not fit for that.

That was disheartening, to say the least because you had the chance but you weren’t proven worthy of it—maybe if you tried a little more you'd draw yourself closer to the promised land. Even with all your might, you might not even succeed and that’s just the tip of the iceberg, because there’s probably more things that you could ever imagine that can even hurt you, and these are two realities: the reality of life and the reality about Sheon herself.

Kim Suyeon, or most probably known as Sheon, is probably the girl you’d really admire and even with the multiple beautiful girls in the university, you just can’t take your eyes off her as she’s something more than what you can think of.

You, being called as the “university’s heartthrob” can’t even get onto her nerves as she’s one of the few girls that doesn’t even bother to initiate a move or even talk to you, mostly doing the latter if it’s really needed but chances can be even slim to none—note that girls around your university would die just to get to talk to you and you’re probably in their shoes, just with Sheon.

Well, maybe you’re a step closer towards your desired goal: the both of you in a library, probably four seats away from her and just words away from a response from her. Of course, nothing would happen if you would just sit in your chair and skim the pointless texts on the book you’re “reading”, so, wanting to make an acquaintance of a connection to her, you pretended to get another book just behind her as you took a glimpse of what she’s studying, furrowing your eyebrows as you’re piqued on the topic she’s reading.

“Struggling a little bit?”

“Oh god—” Sheon yelps almost inaudibly, silencing herself from screaming as she’s in a tranquil zone, startled from your actions as you almost giggled because of her adorable demeanor. “—don’t scare me l-like that… I’m fine though, thanks…”

You felt a little faux sincerity on Sheon’s tone, masking her stressed demeanor because of all of the activities and assignments she’s probably into and you feigned little concern because of that.

“Why the deep breaths though?”

“You know, I've been pretty stressed lately…” Sheon lets out another deep breath out, her stress pretty evident as she probably just wants this workload to put on a halt, wanting herself to feel relaxed in the best way possible. “You?”

Well, you didn’t expect to go to this moment—you never expected her to even bother conversing with you as she’s not that type of girl as far as you know. On the brighter side of things, Sheon doesn’t ignore someone just because they find them uncanny or even at their point where she could despise them, she will engage in a conversation whenever possible, but not that invested and you can’t blame her for that.

Honestly, you would brush these thoughts off considering how everything’s going according to the path you wanted, and you’ll make this worth your while and seize this opportunity.

“Yeah, pretty much the same as you…” You share the same demeanor as hers: stressed and pretty much done with all of the works being battered out to you—half of it are true, since you wanted to be tethered with being in the same shoes as her is hopes of a better connection—as you let out a deep sigh right after, feigning how that weight of emotions are coursing through you. “So many workloads and shit—”

“Hey, language…” Sheon cuts you off with a cute glare visible on her face, not approving of your vulgar choice of words as you apologized because of it, not wanting you to have an atrocious first impression towards this beautiful girl.

“I’m sorry—stress can really make people the worst version of themselves.”

“Must be having a weak mental, hm?” Sheon muttered a joke about your opinion on how stress can transform people as you laughed a little, feeling the same wavelength of humor as she is and that’s probably another factor on why you’re liking her even more. Of course, as a playful response towards her, you pretended to be offended but addressing those are obviously sarcastic, in a way that Sheon wouldn’t feel any hard feelings that you’re keeping in you and it’s effective, she just silently scoffed, hiding her face a little.

“Don’t be too harsh like that, Sheon.”

“Hah… Anyways, thanks for a little talk. Feels a little bit good chatting with someone for a while…” Sheon mutters as she feels a little lonely after saying those words and you feel the hint of shock and fluster, mixing up those emotions because of what she's been saying. You feign a little concern in a way that it should have feel a little hard having no one to talk to, or to lean to on these procrastinating days but the other side of your doubts it—your claim earlier is maybe taking over her, she’s not being herself when she’s utterly stressed, or maybe even anyone would lead to that.

“Feeling a little lonely? You don’t seem like it, Sheon—you seem like you have multiple connections around the university…”

Even with your speculations, Sheon dismisses the fact that she’s even friendly despite her extroverted persona, and more of an approachable person rather than committing to a deep relation of friendship.

Maybe this is time to probably change those tracks of hers with your own moves.

“No, Sheon—you really look like one. I’d never thought you were like this…”

“Well, it depends—” Sheon closes the book she’s been reading for a while now as she averts all of her attention towards you, looking deep into your eyes as her adorable countenance really puts you into a mode of panic as you can’t maintain that eye contact to her for that amount of period of time. “—I do like, love talking with someone when they seem interesting to me…” Sheon loses her gaze towards you as she feels a little shy because of your endearing stare from time to time, before staring at you again and uttering these words: “And a great example of that would be you.”

Your heart instantly dropped once she let go of those words, making every speculation and your thoughts take a step further, entering reality and off with the imaginative nature it has been. You didn’t let her know about what you’re feeling in order for the atmosphere not to be brushed off on its elevating wholesomeness as you just act like you’re shocked—you’re indeed perplexed as you didn’t expect Sheon to really say that to you, directly, let along her doe, lovely eyes saying all of that with sincerity coming right from her heart.

“M-Me? How am I—”

“Hey…” You completely lost it when Sheon placed her hand onto yours, completely containing all of your emotions inside as you’re flustered because of her affectionate advances towards you. She caresses her fingers onto your hands as she interrupts you from uttering more words, wanting to reassure you about how she’s genuine about it. “I meant it and also, you seem a pretty nice guy, too…”

You don’t know if she’s playing a game with you as you clearly know that this isn’t the Sheon you know—maybe that’s the case, you vaguely even know anything about her so you could never be so sure—but you will take any chances even and this, is a great example of it.

Of course, Sheon is not going to be done as she’s still muttering about you—

“I knew you liked me, and you don’t need to tell me about that, anyways.” Tugging your collar, she inches herself towards you as she whispers in your ear and continues, “This might be the moment we can discover more about ourselves, hm?”

Before you could utter a word, Sheon pulls your collar out where no one could the both of you, the subtle movement of the chair breaking the peaceful ambiance the library has been emanating as Sheon winces, noticing that someone may have noticed but luckily, no one had. Also, before you could hear her talk, you noticed two girls in the distance just on the other side of the library, looking at the both of you and visibly giggling. You’re not oblivious and saw Sheon stealing glances on them too so you know something is fishy out here, and you will break the code whenever possible.

“Who are those girls at the distance, hm?”

“Nothing, they’re just—”

“Maybe stop lying to me, Sheon—” You then grab her wrists gently as she whimpered a little, overpowering her with no effort as your eyes demanded the truth from her and with her soft heart, she wouldn’t afford lying to you in any case.

“Okay, they’re my friends and that’s why I want to pull you here so that they can’t see us.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you feel a strange presence between this and you’re not liking it because your speculations may be true—maybe they just set you up here just for a reason and that alone will break you apart if that’s true. “And why are they laughing at us, hm? What’s happening here, Sheon?”

So many questions, so little time—you won’t brush this off and let them get away with this because you demand a serious answer uttering her lips. A visible gulp can be seen being done by Sheon as she looks directly into your eyes, letting her endearing look make you calm down a little as both your firm grips (mostly from Sheon’s) are still evident against each other.

“Okay, they dared me to go and make you hit up on me—”

“So all of this isn't sincere, then?” You didn’t let her finish as her poor choice of words infuriates you a little bit and with a sympathetical approach from Sheon, she didn’t want this to turn atrociously.

In all honesty, the words she said earlier are all true and you can see the sincerity with her tone or her pretty pupils dilating. It was surprising for a girl like Sheon to like you not because of how you look but how you approach people and make them dearly comfortable and with that element, she likes that about you—if you wonder why, she may have seen you a lot of times with your down-to-earth heart being easy-going and sympathetic, then maybe that’s why she enlightened herself not be that harsh on you and saw the light.

Maybe her soft-hearted personality can melt your heart like butter and starting off with her stare, you would find yourself getting closer to that.

“I waited for this moment too, honestly just to say this.” Sheon knows you’ll throw another pointless banter again and she’s just going to get annoyed with it and to deal with that would take a step further that no one can ever imagine. She shuts your mouth with a kiss that caught you off-guard but with her floral scent and her falling under her spell makes you reciprocate onto her with more aggression, but a gentle approach as you don’t want to hurt her or makes things too fast in any way—maybe you can dismiss that latter part since she’s the one who made everything a step ahead of what you’re thinking. The softness and the sweet, luscious taste of that citrus lip balm makes you indulge onto a deeper kiss as you do so, making Sheon inevitably run her hands onto the back of head, tugging your hair tightly as she’s succumbing to her needs too. Knowing that the both of you are still publicly in a library, you immediately pulled out of her lips’ warm embrace as the both of you exchanged breaths, feeling the pumping rush of adrenaline making the both of you invigorated.

“So, a-all of that—hah, are sincere?”

Sheon’s lips quivers, unable to comprehend the affectionate event that just happened as she nodded and silently responded to you, “Y-Yes it is…”. It didn’t even take a lot of time for her to initiate another move, as she tugs on your collar and with no absolute way of fighting or retaliating her actions, you just simply followed her as she directs you onto an empty space in the library where no one can even bother to see you, or even cameras capturing that place.

“Was this all part of a deal with them, Sheon?”

Sheon scoffs as she places her arms onto your shoulders, staring deeply on your eyes as she’s utterly serious about this. “Maybe—more likely a dare but all of these are sincere because I indeed like you~”

Oh, her soft tone is enough for your ears to melt let alone her stare which could allure you into loving her even more and you’re in the verge of that—you might vent out your frustrations towards her but Sheon’s calm and angelic façade is making it a hindrance for it to be successful and it’s working too well against you. With her touch making your heart skip a beat, you know it wouldn’t take long before you fall in love with her truly as her aura is strongly making you fall under spell, her attractiveness actually making you succumb onto your deepest desires towards her and you’re trying to contain anything you could to have a composed disposition.

“Are you trying to hit on me, Sheon?” Your smirk lets her know how you’re likely to play the game and absolutely love this side of hers and honestly, you’re even in shock at how her demeanor instantly changed—you’re now maybe turned on to the fact that Sheon’s turning the tables against you, and with her captivating smirk, you know things will take on another level.

“Yes, maybe I am and also—I’ve been wanting to do something lately…” Sheon runs her fingers on your chest, her nails tracing circles around your clothed skin as you know how it’s a sign of utter need from her and most of all, persuasion. It’s the building anticipation that needs to kick in to you to further ignite that aspiring wants living within you, waking the hibernating beast inside you and ending its warm slumber and she’ll do everything that takes her and you can see it burning in her eyes—those passionate, ardor-filled eyes in aims to make you feel with the same wavelength as hers: full of inner lust and greed.

“Mind sharing what's that, Sheon?”

With her mischievous and hubristic expressions, it wouldn’t take long before she spills what would be that desire of hers that she’s been longing for and with her fingers gently touching your chin and averting your eyes towards her, Sheon mutters such profanities you wouldn’t know that’ll come out of her mouth. “To suck off a man like you.”

You’re perplexed for another time as you didn’t expect an angelic girl like Sheon such sinful things but here you are, hearing everything loud and crisp and god, it’s always turning you on whenever such a saccharine, soft-toned voice tingles your ear—you’re loving this moment yet you still can’t brush off the fact that it all came out of her mouth and it’s straightforward.

In all honesty, you may or may not succumb to your carnal needs while thinking about her because everytime you feel like it, she’s the perfect girl to fantasize about because she might have everything you really need in a girl—petite frame, little waist with visible abdominal muscles, porcelain skin, plump lips, beautiful face and maybe even more than what you could think of. There’s maybe a hint of possible hesitation with Sheon’s propositions but knowing how sincere and how everything will go on a great pace of things, you wouldn’t consider putting onto wounds of that and rather, succumb onto your desires as much as hers.

“Since when you wanted this, Sheon?”

Sheon just fluttered her eyes at you as she laughed a little as her sinister smirk just ignited the lustful atmosphere that’s starting to emanate and with that, you would like her to do the honors on starting this possibly spectacular show.

“A while ago, honestly and also, I won’t just be going to suck you off…” Her sultry voice tempts you onto her sinful actions as she kneels down in front of you, facing your crotch and then looking up at you with those endearing eyes begging for your approval. “You’re going to fuck my face so, are you good with that?”

You wouldn’t think a girl like Sheon would be this impatient and straightforward towards you, actually the fact that she’s this needy for you is puzzling since the both of you barely knew each other but had the same desires towards each other which fuels the anticipating sin you’re about to engulf into.

“Was this part of the deal or dare you and your friends made up?”

“Not this time…” Knowing how her words are laced with impatience, she tugged the hem of your pants and started to unbutton it, wanting to see what could be the feral bast you are packing. You can see a hint of nervousness from her hands, a little tremble is evident that’s why you came up with that conclusion but it didn’t stop her from discovering you and with your defenses coming down one by one leisurely, you’re just mentally preparing yourself on what she’s about to showcase you, or most likely, what you can showcase her. Now with just your boxers remaining as the last bit of defense on your nether area, you let out small, ragged breaths once she teased her fingers onto your semi-erect length, making sure it’ll be in a full mast before uncovering your wonderful length to her and it wouldn’t take long before it grows gradually fast. Now, knowing how impatient the both of you are at this moment, Sheon won’t tease you more as she brings your boxers down with one, swift motion as gravity did the rest, now resting those clothes onto your ankles. Sheon’s awe lit in excitement and awe as she analyzes every inch of your cock that she’s always been longing for and now that she has the full control of it, maybe it’s time for her to fully unlock the potential of her long-awaited fetish.

“Wow, it’s wonderful to see it like this—ohh…” Sheon circles her tongue all over swollen head, and then lapping the profound liquid coming out of your slit, savoring every drop that you create. She kisses every part of your shaft as she worships it like it’s some kind of god she’s made to be a follower for and maybe, it’s going to be on that way because on how aggressive she’s peppering your shaft with kisses, alongside the needy licks that made you shudder in response because of her incredible oral masterclass between your legs. Her warm hand palming your thighs makes you feel reassured as an addition to the sudden pleasure you’re experiencing and it’s an elevating experience and god, you might just want to further dig in to your deepest, sexual desires on fucking that slutty throat of Sheon’s even more.

“Must’ve practiced a lot, hm?”

Sheon continues slurping onto your succulent shaft as she pulls out after a few more seconds, the glossy texture of it becoming evident with her subsequent drool and the light that has been emanating above. “Y-Yeah… I’m sorry if i-it’s not that good—”

“Not good? No, Sheon—keep doing that because it’s amazing.” You don’t know if it’s the sudden gratification you’re feeling that’s why you can’t formulate a meticulous judgment or just the hint of hypocrisy within you but nonetheless and factually-speaking, Sheon’s doing a great job on your throbbing length yet you can’t brush off the fact of her off-rhythmical bobs and her teeth making your wince in a bit of pain and all you can say is that she’s a natural at this.

“Practiced a little on my toys, that’s why—also, let me just get this wet…” Sheon continues her oral masterclass as she bobs onto almost the entirety of your shaft, lathering it will her saliva and to further taste and inhale that musky scent of yours she’s now loving wholeheartedly. Knowing this may be enough, Sheon pulls out not without strings of saliva adding up to the mess she’s starting to create and with a single sentence, it’s enough for you to prepare yourself on what you can showcase to her.

“You sure you want me to do this to you?”

“I wouldn’t want it unless I said it, right?” Sheon has a valid point and with her further confirmation, you know you should do the unthinkable and probably, this will be the craziest day you’re going to be having for a while. You don’t even know it all escalated this quickly, leading up to this lustful moment but you won’t complain and of course, you need to silence yourself and be swift because you’re risking both your reputations if you get caught. With Sheon’s initiation of your hands making such makeshift pigtails on her hair, it wouldn’t last long before you position yourself in front of her with your length just mere centimeters from touching her plump lips and when you pull the trigger, all let loose and suddenly, you’re in heaven.

All you can just feel is the warmth and the softness of her walls engulfing your cock and hugging it tightly as she hollowed her cheeks with your leisure pace, and with the sweat dripping on her face and her drool seeping out of her mouth, you know you got to up the ante. Sheon encourages you so, and with that green light by hers, it’s time for a ruthless treatment as you brushed off the foreplay and immediately mustered a moderate pace, her face constantly getting rammed by your length as your leverage on her hair was incredibly great that you could adjust at any time you want. With even more than half of your length constantly plunging in her pleasurable mouth, she can’t help but gag uncontrollably as your cock is becoming way too much for her to handle but she would go over the limits and raise the risks for a better reward. You constantly pump your hips onto her mouth like it’s her possibly tight pussy, each thrust aiming to send her limits into the extremes and to further wring out the finest gratification possible.

Maybe she’s getting too ahead of herself as her ego commands her to take more but she can’t and with that, she inevitably pulls out of you and gasps uncontrollably.

“Are y-you alright, Sheon? I mean if you can’t handle it—”

“I c-can take it—continue fucking my mouth, p-please…” Sheon’s tone is full of need and desperation and with her sight of wanting her needs to be fulfilled, you can’t let the opportunity fade away but the other side of you have sympathy, not wanting to continue this if she’s going to struggle but she wanted this, and all of this are in her own accord.

Maybe you just need to fight through that mental battle you’re constantly enemies with, and let your carnal desire win, just in this moment you can’t refuse—

“Come on—glwk—hmmp!!”

The devil inside ascends to its true form, and with the lust blinding you, you succumb to your deepest needs and plunged her mouth with your cock and constantly rammed her mouth like it’s a fleshlight. Maybe Sheon’s throat is built with your cock to be constantly rammed on, like a cocksleeve that will always be attended whenever possible and god, the sight is just getting sinful and hotter—Sheon’s disheveled hair and her sullied face emanates the greatest sin you’ve witnessed, far from her adorable, sophisticated aura earlier as she becomes a victim of her own needs, taking your in fully as that alone makes you delightful, and it’s just the paramount of bliss. Her constant gags didn’t let herself back off to your constantly-ramming length as she even uses this in order to encourage you with a better treatment of roughness towards her slutty mouth and with that, you won’t disappoint her let alone hold back against anything.

You’re not the man you are today, but rather, the primal and the starving one—all hungry for her mouth to be fucked into oblivion and ruin this beautiful girl in front of you until she’s a sullied mess. You try and keep your tone almost deaf to anyone’s ear that could be possible eavesdropping on this suspiciously lustful activity and let Sheon’s gags reverberate around the small spot in the library. The thought of the risk of being caught makes everything a thrill as you hold her hair like it’s your last, ramming into her mouth until she can’t take it anymore and suddenly, she tapped your thigh repeatedly, wanting to give herself a little break from your rough and reckless treatment onto her warm cavern.

“Gahh—s-shit, that w-was good… hah, I w-want more, please…” Sheon begs her glistening eyes as her sullied visage is turning you on so much that you wanted to add the mess on her face with your own seed but you’re getting too ambitious, and maybe, it wouldn’t be long before you could even achieve that.

“Mind your language, Sheon.”

“No—please, it d-doesn’t matter right now. Just please…”

Not wasting any time and fulfilling her needs, she takes your cock in her mouth again as you held onto her hair and instantly, you mustered high-paced thrusts as she instantly gagged on the spot, yet takes your whole length like a champ and with that, you continued pounding her mouth in the point of no-return but with all you can give. Copious amounts of drool seeps out of her mouth with your current pace as the constant slapping of your balls at her chin lets her know how wild the pace is and how it arouses her onto the roof and with that sight, she’s loving this even more. Sheon held a tight grip onto your thighs with your ridiculous pace as she maintained her profound eye contact to you, begging you for more as the glint on her eyes even makes that beast inside of you capable of having no mercy against her.

If that’s what she’s been wanting you to treat her, then so be it.

“Look how slutty you look right now, Sheon—god, if you just see yourself right now, then you’ll damn know.”

She can envision what she looks like by the things that’s suddenly happening right now but she wouldn’t bother because all of her attention is towards your ramming cock, drilling the depths of her throat and bound to make it to the point that everything would be precarious to be tolerated—maybe Sheon just wants to get totally ruined and you would treat her as such. Knowing how your cock is constantly throbbing in her mouth and your silenced moans of need, Sheon knows something is going to be near soon and she’ll cherish it ultimately on her capabilities. She fucks her face further in tandem with your thrusts, bobbing her mouth furiously as the trajectory of your actions results in a greater quality of pleasure and you’re absolutely loving every second of this.

Knowing Sheon is helping you to achieve your own high, you admire it as her clever mind made up for that decision as you double your efforts onto your thrusts, chasing something that will elevate you for the rest of your day and it wouldn’t be that long before it comes.

Might count to ten and you know you wouldn’t pass six because it just went all in a state of bliss.

Shockwaves of immense gratification coursed in every vein of your body, resulting in a state of bliss as your frequent release of profanities was enough of an evidence. Your option to further arouse yourself and to elevate the lustful atmosphere of the area, you bury your entire shaft onto her slick, tight throat as she constantly gags on it but nonetheless, wants every spurt of your delectable seed being deposited right into her walls and down to her stomach—most likely, she’ll choke on it and would try to swallow it whole and with that, you’d love see her try. Allowing herself to get a breather and to let herself be free of her constant gags, you pulled your length out as streams of saliva becomes unshackled, staining everything on its vicinity and like what you expected, she choked on your cock as she tries to savor the seed you gave her and with her undeniably surprising skills, she managed to gulp them all as your healthy, creamy load are now in her stomach. She coughed a little because of your harsh actions against her mouth but there’s nothing to be held against you, not even a hint of grudge and for the optimistic part, she even liked her throat getting pounded into oblivion and she thanked you for that.

“That’s n-nothing much, Sheon—wow, your m-mouth, it’s incredible…” There’s nothing much to say when she's clouded your brain to the point that it all became fried, unable to articulate such words and stuttering becoming evident.

“Thanks t-too—for t-the load, hah… that was rough…”

An evident concern feigns your face as you feel the hint of uneasiness with your earlier treatment but as expected, she reassures you about that because she wanted it in the first place and that alone, makes your mind in a clear space of relief. She licks her tongue as she lets you know you are grateful she is with your load and not so long after, you thanked Sheon with her incredible masterclass and an incredible mouth to derive pleasure with.

Helping her stand up with your hands, she thanked you with that hint of a gentlemanly approach and thank god no one saw the both of you yet Sheon is muttering something, and it's clearly making your interest piqued and it’s maybe just going to get better than this.

“Maybe meet me later at the cafeteria at 5 P.M. because we got to talk about something.”

Your eyebrows feign innocence as she deepen her captivating stare towards you, still finding it endearing and cute even with the sullied mess she had indulged herself into. “Maybe something like, starting a better connection between the both of us but that would be for later, gotta see my friends for now, bye!”

Maybe it all went like a flash, and everything escalating too fast wasn’t on your list but you won’t complain.

You wouldn’t know what she would have in store for you later but there’s a single thing you damn know where this will go: Sheon is going to be yours and you’re just living the fantasy you’ve been dreaming on and now, it’s just within your reach and only time will tell about this.

Such a horny freak, but I love it—I love him…

#kinknuary 2024 #billlie smut #sheon smut #billlie x male reader #sheon x male reader

422 notes · View notes

pedrospatch · 1 year ago

Text

a safe haven l seven

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: Yours and Joel’s romantic relationship progresses; Ellie confronts you about Joel in stables and encourages you to make a choice; when Joel gets injured while out on patrol, it leads to a confession.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SMUT. unprotected p in v sex (as always, wrap it before you tap it), oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation (if you squint), Joel and his big cock can go multiple rounds because i said so, creampie (these two really are just going at it without a care in the world), Joel gets injured (gunshot wound) mentions of blood, MEDICAL INACCURACIES (per my research, the way gunshots wound are treated depends on a number of different factors, but we are going full hollywood here). Luke and Joel have an interaction (that is a warning in itself).

word count: 8.4k

September, 2024

“Oh fuck Joel, please don’t stop. Please don’t fucking st—”

You stop short and bury your face into the blanket underneath you in an effort to muffle the loud moans and cries of pleasure spilling from your lips.

Although the chances of a single soul being out of bed and outside near the barn at this godforsaken hour in the middle of the night are slim, it’s better to be safe than sorry. But keeping the noise to a minimum is a challenging feat when Joel Miller is positioned behind you, fucking you into oblivion.

You can’t hold back, not when his long, thick, calloused fingers are gripping your hips like a vice, digging deeply into the soft flesh as he brings them back, slamming you against him with each thrust of his own. Not when every inch of his throbbing cock is stretching your cunt, filling you up and satiating your unbridled need for it. Your need for Joel.

Over the last few weeks, he’d shown you what real pleasure could—and should—be. Sex isn’t an obligation a wife has to her husband, and a woman deserves to enjoy it as much as a man does. Joel made making you feel good his goal, his priority, and there’s no coming back from it. He is the only man you want to touch you, to satisfy you, now, and for the rest of your life.

You lift yourself off the blanket, your teeth sinking hard into your quivering bottom lip as you desperately drive your hips backwards and meet his thrusts halfway out of your own burning desire to feel more and more of him. Arching your back, you squeeze your eyes shut and relish in the sweet, heavenly sound the backs of your sweat slicked thighs make as they slap roughly against the front of Joel’s over and over and over again.

Joel's grasp on your hips tightens. “Yeah, that’s it baby. Fuck, that’s my good girl,” he pants from behind you. He picks up his pace, delivering smooth strokes that gradually become harder, sloppier as that sweet release draws closer for both of you. But somehow, he’s still careful. Even when he’s lost in the heat of the moment and his mind is in a cloudy haze, he keeps himself grounded, at least enough to make sure he isn’t being too rough. He can’t bear the thought of crossing the line between pleasure and pain, not with the woman he’s grown to care about more than anything. But you make being careful difficult. Pleading and begging for him to fuck you harder, faster, you bring out the primal in him and he can’t say no to you, much less when he’s buried balls deep in your cunt. “What a good fuckin’ girl. Y’take my cock so fuckin’ well, sweetheart—s’good for me, baby. So, so fuckin’ good.”

“Joel,” you moan his name, forgetting all about staying quiet. You drag one of your hands down the length of your body and dip it between your thighs, rubbing quick, firm circles around your clit as your desperation to come mounts. Luke didn’t like it when you would touch yourself, he never allowed you to explore your sexuality or your own body, nor did he allow you to chase your high when you were together—but Joel?

He encourages it. Adores it.

He fucking adores you. And he always he makes sure to show you just how much he adores you.

“Oh fuck, that’s it baby, fuckin’ touch yourself—touch yourself while I fuck you.”

You swirl your fingers around the sensitive bud harder, the tension building in your core.

“Fuckin’ Christ, peach,” Joel groans behind you. “S’like this sweet little pussy was made for me. She was made just for me, y’know that?”

It’s hard to decide what does you in more when it comes to intimacy with Joel—is it when he’s soft and gentle, whispering beautiful, sweet nothings into the hollow of your neck while you’re underneath him, hands locked together and fingers interwined as he slowly slides in and out of your heat?

Or is it when he puts you on your hands and knees, obscene filth rolling off his tongue as he takes what belongs to him from behind?

He knows how to make love, but god, he also knows how to fuck and you can’t decide which side of him you prefer because they’re both perfect.

Unbelievably, devastatingly perfect.

“So fuckin’ tight, you feel s’good—” Joel grunts, driving himself deeper and deeper, hitting that spot inside of you that drives him just as wild as it does you. One of his hands abandons your hips and he glides it down the softness of your lower belly. What has to be one of your least favorite parts of yourself is one of his favorites and every night, Joel makes it his mission to prove to you just how flawless he thinks every inch of your body is. Lovingly, he caresses your tummy with his palm, and then trails his hand further down, slipping it between your thighs where his fingers join yours. Together, they circle your swollen clit and you hear the sound of your own blood rushing in your ears.

“Joel, fuck, I’m so close—I’m gonna—” Your own gasp cuts off the end of your sentence. You try to warn him again, but your words are washed away by the wave of pleasure that crashes over you as one final stroke tips you both over the edge you’ve been teetering and you both come in tandem. Fisting handfuls of his blanket, you mewl out his name as your orgasm tears through your body, making it shudder.

Behind you, Joel releases a low, guttural groan, his chest heaving as his balls tighten. He spills into you and his eyes pinch shut when he feels you convulse around his cock, your cunt milking him for all he’s worth. “Fuck,” he chokes as he leans forward and drapes his body over yours, his length twitching and filling you until it leaks out of you, dripping onto the blanket. His breaths are ragged and labored, but eventually steady. Instead of pulling out of you, he gingerly pushes his hips into you once more. Feeling your walls clench around him, Joel drops his head and snickers, his warm breath tickling the damp skin on your back. He opens his eyes. “Feels like you’re ready for more, sweetheart,” he mutters, planting a tender kiss between your shoulder blades. “Jesus. Didn’t know I had me such a greedy girl, peach. Guess that innocent little angel face of yours had me fooled.”

You’re about to retort but when he bucks, all you can do is exhale sharply. Your pussy involuntarily flutters around him and though you can’t see it, you can picture the smug little grin on his face—he knows he’ll have your body begging for more if he keeps it up and so do you. He’s been insatiable tonight, wanting more and more and more, and you’re not all too sure if you have it in you for another round.

“We’ve still got some time left for one more,” Joel says. He peels himself off of you and palms the curve of your ass, kneading at the perfect mound with his fingers.

“Joel, I’m not sure I can handle it,” you mumble tiredly, shaking your head. “I think I’m all fucked out.”

He laughs softly and pulls out of you.

You breathe out an audible sigh of relief welcoming the emptiness for once. Just as you’re about to get off of your hands and knees, Joel slides his index finger up your puffy, swollen slit and the arousal pools itself in your lower belly all over again. “God, no, please don’t,” you whine. “I can’t take anymore, Joel. I really fucking can’t.”

“Y’sure ‘bout that, darlin’?”

“Yes, I’m sure—”

The lustful moan that echoes throughout the barn as he pushes his finger inside you says otherwise and you silently curse your own body for its cruel betrayal.

Joel hums. “Hm, doesn’t sound like you’re sure,” he teases, slipping a second finger into your pussy. He leans down and trails a line of hot, open mouthed kisses down the curve of your spine. He stops at the small of your back and murmurs against your skin, “I just fuckin’ know my sweet girl has one more left in her. I can fuckin’ feel it.” He curls his digits, eliciting another gasp from you. “Tell me, peach. Y’think you can be a real good girl and give me just one more?”

It takes less than a minute before you’re whimpering in defeat.

Of course you can give Joel one more—you can give him as many as he wants you to give him, as many as he can possibly coax out of you.

“Yes,” you breathe out in reply. “I’ll give you one more. But I just hope you know that I’m probably going to need you to carry me back across town after this.”

“Hm, I reckon I can handle that,” Joel muses with a small chuckle. He withdraws his fingers from you, his hands spreading your ass and revealing your needy, dribbling cunt. Glancing over your shoulder, you see his lips part slightly as he stares at you in complete awe.

Your face floods with heat, and though he can’t see your insecurity, but he feels it.

“She’s too fuckin’ pretty,” he remarks, admiring the way your folds glisten with your own wetness and his come. Licking his lips, he meets your gaze. “You’re s’goddamn fuckin’ beautiful, baby. Promise I ain’t ever gonna let you forget it.”

Your heart flutters wildly.

Before you have the chance to respond, he shifts his position, moving off the large bale of hay you two have been using as a makeshift bed for the last several nights. He lowers himself down onto his knees behind you. Joel looks at you and smirks when he sees the expression that crosses your features—it’s one of utter disbelief. He’s devoured you plenty of times before, but not in this position, and certainly not when you’re dripping, leaking with his come. His smirk widens. “Somethin’ the matter, darlin’?”

“Joel, I—I’m a mess right now,” you stammer out, nervously. “Are you sure you want to—?”

Joel flashes you an amused grin. “That a serious question, peach?” He chuckles when you nod in reply. “Well then, here’s my answer.” He buries his face into your cunt and swipes his tongue over your seam, flattening it out as slowly begins to drag it up and then down again. Joel groans into you, savoring the taste of you and your sweet muskiness combined with him and his slight saltiness. His tongue slips between your folds, eager, hungry for more.

“Joel,” his name tears from the back of your throat in a strangled cry. “Oh, fuck.”

He’d left you so sensitive. Your body involuntary jerks forward, squirming to get away from him—but Joel is having none of it. You can feel him grinning into your pussy as he wraps his hands around your thighs, curling his fingers as far as they can go around them.

“C’mere,” he says, his voice muffled between your legs. He tugs you back towards him and tightens his grip on you, holding you firmly in place, right where he needs you. He wraps his lips around your clit and swirls his tongue around it before engulfing the bud.

He might have teased you about being greedy, but truth be told, he’s the greedy one. Knowing his time with you is so limited only makes him even greedier.

Joel feasts on you, his desire to have you fall apart on his tongue again driving him to ravage you as if his very fucking life depends on making you come. The sounds of your whimpers, which are on the verge of turning into full blown sobs of pleasure, only spur him on. It’s more than just sending you home satisfied—he wants to make certain that, even when you’re apart from one another, you’ll still feel him. His tongue on your cunt, his cock buried inside of you, his lips and hands all over your body.

He can’t leave his physical mark on you to remind you of him when you’re not together, but he can, at the very least, leave you with a yearning for more of him.

You raise a tightly curled fist to your mouth, biting into it to keep from screaming out.

It’s too much for you to handle.

But somehow, it’s still not enough.

You want him to stop.

And yet you need him to keep going.

“Fuckfuckfuck—Joel, please! Please!”

You beg him out of desperation, although you’re not really sure what you’re begging him for at this point—for him to make you come or for him to stop before you dissolve into nothing but a pathetic, whimpering mess. One of his hands abandons your thigh and without warning, he pushes two fingers into you, pumping them in and out of you all the while his tongue laps at your clit. The muscles in your stomach contract and you explode, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as you come undone all over again. There isn’t a single part of you that isn’t shaking, trembling—it takes you a minute to even realize Joel’s on his feet, helping you turn around to lie on your back.

“S’alright. I got you. I’ve got you, sweet girl.” Joel climbs onto the bale of hay and nudges your thighs apart with his knee, settling himself between them. Planting his hands on either side of your shoulders, he dips his head and peppers gentle kisses all over your neck and chest, giving you the chance to ride out your last high before it’s time to get up and start getting dressed.

After a minute or two, you find your voice.

Or at least, a tiny, meek version of it.

“Joel?”

He hums, his nose skimming along your jawline. “Yeah, baby?”

“I think you really are going to have to carry me across town.”

Joel chuckles, gingerly nipping at your chin with his teeth. “Best cut that out, peach. S’gonna start gettin’ to my head real fast.”

You giggle. “Yeah, you’re right. Don’t want you getting too cocky, Miller.”

You bring a hand up to his face, cupping it in your palm. Gazes meet in the moonlight and you give him a soft, contented smile. You sweep your thumb across his bottom lip.

Joel’s breath catches in his throat.

Those eyes. That smile. Oh, that fucking smile. He wonders if you've figured out by now just how effortlessly you do him in.

Joel’s throat bobs. “Peach?”

“Yeah?”

He hesitates, then admits, “There’s somethin’ I’ve been meanin’ to tell you.”

Your body stiffens underneath him, your eyes widening slightly.

“What is it, Joel?”

Again, he hesitates.

Joel’s been trying for some time now to say it—to tell you that he loves you.

But whenever he thought he’d finally mustered up enough courage to spit it out, he loses it the second those three words are about to fall from his lips. He can’t figure out for the life of him what he’s so afraid of. It’s obvious, to both of you, that he loves you, and he has no doubt in his mind that you love him too. But neither of you seem to have the guts to say it.

“Joel?” you say his name quietly, interrupting his train of thought. “Are you okay?”

Letting out a small, frustrated sigh, Joel shakes his head. “M’sorry, darlin’. S’just that—”

He stops short and shakes his head again, cursing himself for being such a coward.

You understand him, though. “It’s okay, Joel. I know how hard it is to say it. It’s really not as simple as one would think.” You laugh in spite of yourself. Grazing his beard lightly with your fingertips, you manage to give him another small smile. “Please don’t worry about it. It doesn’t have to be right now. It doesn’t have to be tomorrow or the day after that. I’m not going to pressure either of us into saying something if we aren’t quite ready to say it. It should wait until you are good and ready—until the both of us are good and ready.”

“You’ve gotta know how much you mean to me—”

“I already do, Joel.” You drop your hand away from his face and place it on his bare chest. His heart thrums steadily against your fingers. “And I feel the same way about you. You do know that, don’t you, honey?”

His heart skips a beat at the pet name. You feel it.

Joel leans down, brushing his lips softly against your forehead. “‘Course I do,” he murmurs. He then pulls back slightly, assuring you, “Couldn’t be any fuckin’ clearer to me.”

You press a delicate kiss to the tip of his nose and the little token of affection prompts his dark eyes to flutter closed. “Good.” You start to drag your fingernails and scrape them lightly down the length of his chest. They move lower, gliding over his soft belly and the coarse hair below his navel. With a tiny, innocent smirk, you wrap your hand around his cock, stroking it until he begins to harden in your palm. “Oh? What’s this?”

His eyes snap open and he groans, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. “Christ, baby,” he gruffs. “What happened to not havin’ it in you for more?”

“Mm, I lied.” You run the head of his cock between your folds, moaning as you tease your sopping entrance with it. “I’ve got one more in me. Do you think we have enough time?”

Joel bucks his hips into yours and slides into you in one swift, smooth motion. Moaning, your back arches off the blanket, your breasts pushing up against his chest when he bottoms out. “Oh, I reckon we can make it happen, my sweet girl.”

“If you smile any fucking harder, your face might actually fall off,” Ellie quips.

You look up from the clipboard you’re holding in your hands and glimpse over Duke’s back, only to see Ellie smirking to herself as she runs a brush across the brown and white spotted Appaloosa’s side, its stiff bristles clearing his stunning coat of dirt and debris.

Clearing your throat lightly, you try, but fail, to wipe the stupid grin off of your face. Not that it would make a difference, because it’s been plastered on your lips all morning long. You raise an eyebrow at her, questioning, “I’m sorry, is there something wrong with me being in a good mood today, missy?”

“Of course not.” Ellie briefly pauses and her gaze meets yours. She shrugs. “It’s actually really nice to see you so happy.” Her attention shifts back to the task at hand. As she continues to brush the horse, her smirk widens. “So I’m guessing last night with Joel went pretty well then, didn’t it?”

You don’t even flinch. Thanks to the warning Joel had given you a few weeks back, she hadn’t caught you too off guard. More than anything, what surprises you most was the fact that it’s taken the teenager this long to confront you about it.

“Ellie—”

She snorts. “Don’t bother trying to hide it. Look, I know you two have been meeting up in the middle of the fucking night for the last couple of months,” she states in a blunt, matter of fact tone. “And I also know that the two of you know that I know. So let’s not beat around the fucking bush here, sweet cheeks. Are you two like in a relationship or something? Or are you just—what do the kids call it these days? Hooking up? What exactly is the deal with you and Joel?”

Gasping, you’re quick to shush her. “Ellie!”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, relax princess. It’s close to lunchtime, there’s no one in here but the two of us. So fucking spill it. What’s up with you and my old man?”

You sigh. Setting your clipboard down on top of the mounting block beside you, you step around Duke and approach Ellie. Even though you know everyone else in the stables had taken off to the mess hall for lunch hour, you keep your voice low and hushed. “Yes, okay. We’ve been meeting up at night and seeing each other.” You’d tried your best to prepare yourself for this, made a list of things you could say to her to make the fact that you were having a full blown secret affair with the man who’s essentially her father seem a bit less shameful. But it was useless. No matter which way you could try to spin it for her, the bottom line was that you are a married woman who is cheating on her husband.

And you’re cheating with Joel.

“Listen, what we’re doing, it’s not right—”

Ellie lifts her hand and interrupts you.

“You guys make each other happy, don’t you?”

“I can’t speak for Joel,” you reply tentatively, shifting your weight from one muck caked boot to the other. “But he definitely makes me happy. He makes me the happiest I have been in a long, long time.”

She chortles. “Oh, come the fuck on, you know you make his crabby ass happy too,” she tells you. She grins and continues to say, “Seriously dude, if only you could see him in the mornings after he’s been with you. Picture it, he’s getting ready to head out for patrol and he’s going about the kitchen smiling like a fucking idiot as he makes his coffee.”'

“Really?”

“Really,” Ellie confirms. “It’s fucking sickening.”

You can't help but chuckle at her remark.

There’s a brief bout of silence, but Ellie’s quick to cut through it. “Can I ask you something?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Figured,” you sigh. “Alright kid, go ahead. Ask away.”

“Do you love Joel?”

Anxiously, you nibble on your bottom lip. “Yes,” you admit softly after a minute. “I do.”

Ellie glances down at the brush in her hands. She fiddles with it, running her fingers over the coarse, stiff bristles. “Wow,” she murmurs, quietly. Any trace of humor had completely vanished. “It must really fucking suck having to hide being with the person that you love, huh?”

“Yeah, it does. It really, really fucking does.”

Ellie opens her mouth to speak, but then hesitates.

Frowning, you take a step closer to her. “What is it, Ellie?”

“You could leave him, you know. Luke.”

“What?” Your mouth dries. “What are you talking about?”

“You could leave him,” Ellie repeats. Pausing, she chews the inside of her cheek. She seems nervous as she shuffles from foot to foot, something you find strange considering how brazen the girl can be. “You could move in with us into our house, you know?” For as tough as she could be, it tugs at your heart strings whenever her innocence peeks through, much like it is now. “Wouldn’t you like that?”

You smile wistfully at the thought.

A life where you can openly be in a relationship with Joel—take your place by his side and live a life of peace with him and Ellie?

Of course you do.

But it’s a dream that’s too far out of reach.

“I would love that,” you murmur, reaching up to tuck a loose lock of her hair behind her ear. You let your finger graze the softness of her cheek before dropping your hand back down to your side. “You honestly have no idea how happy that would make me, Ellie. But it’s not all that simple—it’s much too complicated for me to leave Luke.”

“How the fuck is it complicated? You aren’t happy with a man you aren’t even really married to. The world fucking ended, it’s not a real marriage. Just take off the ring, pack up your shit, and it’s done. I don’t see what’s so fucking complicated about it.”

You sigh. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Because you’re not even giving me the chance to fucking understand,” Ellie shoots back at you, anger and frustration glazing over her brown eyes as she tries to make sense of it all. “You could actually be happy with Joel—and with me. We could be a family, a real fucking family.”

Caught off guard, you stare at her in complete shock. It’s not like you aren’t aware of how close she’s grown to you since you’d met, but you never expected her to see you as family.

“Ellie, please. You have to believe me. Nothing would make me happier,” you choke out in reply. You furiously blink back the hot, stubborn tears that threaten to fall and hold it together for her sake rather than for yours. “Being together with Joel—being with the two of you and living life together as a family would be incredible.”

“Then why won’t you just fucking leave him?” she demands, growing more irate. “Why miss out on the chance to be fucking happy for once?”

Her questions are met with silence.

How do you even begin to explain it to her?

How do you tell a teenager that you’re trapped with no way out? How afraid you were of your husband?

You don’t. You can’t.

“Well?” Ellie impatiently prompts you after a minute. “Come on man, just tell me the fucking truth already. Why can’t you leave Luke?” Her gaze finds yours and her eyes widen when the realization suddenly starts to sink in for her. “Oh shit.”

You quickly shake your head. “Ellie, wait—”

“It’s because he won’t let you leave, isn’t it?”

Fuck.

For a second, you feel like you’re going to be sick all over her sneakers.

Before you can even think of how to respond to the accusation, the sound of Tommy Miller’s voice echoes through the stables. “Ellie!” he shouts. “Ellie! You in here?”

Relieved, you call out to him. “Hey, Tommy! Yeah, she’s here—she’s with me in Duke’s stall!”

Scowling, Ellie points a menacing finger at you. “This conversation isn’t over,” she mutters. “Far fucking from it, princess.”

Tommy rushes into the stall, his chest heaving. He’s out of breath and sweating profusely, his curls plastered to his forehead. His light blue denim shirt is stained with crimson and so are his hands—he’s covered in blood.

“Tommy!” you gasp out his name and run up to him, grabbing onto his arms. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m alright! Blood ain’t mine,” he says, giving you a reassuring nod as he wraps his hands around your forearms, smearing your skin red. He then looks over your shoulder at Ellie. “It’s Joel. He’s been shot.”

Your nails dig into his arms, a chill running down your spinal cord.

“What?” Ellie cries, running up to the two of you in a panic. “Are you fucking kidding me? What the fuck happened? How did he—is he okay? Is he alive?”

“He’s alive,” Tommy tells her, eliciting a breath of relief from her, as well as from you. “He got hit in the shoulder. I had to come find you and tell you right away,” he explains to her. “Needed you to hear it from me and not from anybody else.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s down at the clinic. I can take you there now—”

Ellie drops the brush in her hand. “What are we waiting for? Let’s fucking go!”

Tommy nods and lets go of you. He whirls around on the heel of his boot and leads her out of Duke’s stall.

You start to follow behind them, but freeze.

What business do you have seeing Joel?

As far as Tommy’s concerned, you’re nothing to his brother. Just a neighbor, maybe an acquaintance. The veterinarian his kid works for, if anything, but certainly nothing more.

“Wait.” Ellie halts in her tracks and turns back to you, beckoning with her hand. When you don’t move a muscle, she rolls her eyes and hurries over to you, taking your hand in hers. “Come on!”

Tommy shoots her a confused look.

“Ellie, what are you—?”

Ellie’s head whips around and she glares at you, as if telling you to be quiet. “I need you to come with me,” she says. “I’m going to need you for uh—you know, for emotional support and shit.”

It suddenly clicks. You know what she’s doing.

She’s giving you the excuse to see Joel.

Squeezing Ellie’s hand in a silent thank you, both of you follow Tommy out of the stables and across the commune towards the clinic.

“Tommy, what happened out there?” you ask him.

“Raiders,” Tommy answers over his shoulder. His long strides are difficult to keep up with, and you and Ellie are forced to break out into a jog just to keep up with him. “Motherfuckers came outta nowhere and ambushed us. They got Joel in the shoulder, hit Carl in the stomach. Peter got shot in the chest—he’s in real bad shape. We don’t think he’s gonna fuckin’ make it.”

Your stomach churns. Peter. Marther’s husband.

“Anyone else wounded?”

He shakes his head. “No, but we did lose two of our horses. Daisy and Cash.”

“How could this fucking happen?” Ellie demands furiously.

“We think it was that same group we were trackin’ back a few weeks ago.” Tommy’s voice is strained. He tightly shakes his head, his hands curled into angry fists at his sides. “They must have realized we stopped with double patrol. Those fuckers caught us with our guard down. I fuckin’ knew we shouldn’t have eased up with patrol duties, I should’ve had every able bodied patrolman man out there day and night—”

You frown at the back of his head. “Tommy, please. You can’t blame yourself for this. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known they were still out there after all this time.”

“Tell that to Martha,” he replies bitterly. “Tell that to Carl’s wife and to his daughters.”

Knowing there isn’t anything you could say to console Tommy or ease the guilt he’s feeling, you clamp your mouth shut.

Now isn’t the time to even try.

The three of you arrive at Jackson’s clinic.

Before the outbreak, the building had served as an urgent care facility for the town.

Abandoned and picked clean over the years, it had taken a lot of time and effort for the community to restore what was left of it into a safe, reliable place that could be used for healthcare services. It still wasn’t much even after the fact, but the clinic boasted three examination rooms for patients, and its shelves, once bare, were now decently stocked with precious medical supplies such as bandages, vials of penicillin, and clean syringes.

Tommy leads you and Ellie inside and the first thing the both of you notice are the trails of splattered blood on the speckled linoleum floors. You pray none of it is Joel’s.

In the first exam room, you can hear Carl, a man who used to work in the stables with you before he’d be assigned to be a patrolman. He’s sobbing, screaming out in agony as he begs for someone to help him. In the second exam room that’s just across the hall from the first, you can hear Luke. He’s speaking to someone, presumably one of the nurses, instructing them to hand him more gauze, along with a scalpel.

“Joel’s in here.” Tommy walks to the last door at the end of the brightly lit hallway and opens it, stepping aside to allow you and Ellie into the room. “Hey, big brother. Got someone here who wants to see you.”

Your stomach churns, breath hitching in your throat when you see him perched on the examination table without his shirt on, firmly holding a bloodied cloth to his left shoulder to conceal his wound.

“Shit,” Ellie breathes out, dropping your hand. She hurries over to his side. “Joel, are you okay?”

Joel glares at his brother. “Thought I told you not to fuckin’ bring her here, Tommy.”

“I had to.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause she’s your—” Tommy pauses, searching for the right word. “She’s your Ellie. She should be here with you, Joel.”

“She doesn’t need to fuckin’ see me like this—” He stops abruptly when he finally sees you standing there at the door looking like you’d just seen a ghost.

Noticing that he’s about to question what you’re doing there, Ellie cuts him off and pins him with a stern look as if to tell him to shut the fuck up. “I asked her to come down here with me,” she says, raising an eyebrow at him and hoping he’ll get the hint. “Hope that’s okay?”

His eyes flit back over to you and he gives a single, subtle nod of approval. “You can come in,” he tells you. His gaze meets your own, but he’s careful not to let it linger for too long. “S’alright. Come on in.”

You stand there frozen. It’s not until Tommy puts his hand on the small of your back and nudges you forward that you you finally move. “Hey,” you say to Joel, your voice small and feeble. Cautiously, you approach him, your mouth and throat dry. Resisting the overwhelming urge to throw your arms around him, you fall into step beside Ellie. She reaches for your hand again, holding it in hers as she gives your fingers a comforting squeeze.

“M’okay.” Joel looks from you to Ellie, nodding his head in reassurance. “M’gonna be okay. Ain’t gotta worry ‘bout me.”

“Anyone been in here to see you yet?” Tommy asks.

“It look like anyone’s been in to see me yet?” Joel deadpans.

Ellie frowns. “When is someone gonna take a look at him? He’s been fucking shot!”

“We’ve only got one doctor and two nurses,” Tommy reminds her gently, placing his hands on his hips. “They do what they can, kiddo.”

Letting go of Ellie’s hand, you stand in front of Joel and gesture to his shoulder. “Mind if I take a look at it?”

Reluctant, Joel’s lips purse together. “Y’sure you wanna do that?”

You nod.

“Go ahead then,” he murmurs.

Carefully, you peel back the blood soaked cloth from his shoulder to inspect his wound.

“It’s right there—the bullet. I can see it. It looks like it’s still intact as well. The good news about that is that it’s going to make extraction a lot easier since the bullet didn’t break off into fragments.” You manage to keep a calm, cool and collected demeanor. On the inside, you’re anything but. Words could not even begin to explain how fucking terrifying it is to see Joel injured, covered in his own blood. Still, with Tommy in the room standing just feet behind you, there’s no choice but to stay composed to avoid raising any kind of suspicion.

“And the bad news?” Ellie prompts worriedly.

“Well, he could get a serious infection if that bullet doesn’t come out of his shoulder. It needs to be removed and his wound needs to be flushed out and cleaned. It also looks like something we can stitch up. He will be fine but he needs to be tended to sooner rather than later.” You glance back at Tommy. “He can’t just sit here like this for much longer.”

“Luke’s still workin’ on Peter. Carl’s next in line since he got hit in the stomach. Luke said he needed to tend to the injuries in order based on how bad the injury is. Said it was called triage or somethin’ like that—”

“Well, what about Donna? Or Rose?” You refer to the two nurses who work in the clinic alongside your husband. Every nerve in your entire body is on edge. All you want is someone, anyone—even if that fucking means Luke—to tend to Joel. It’s quite selfish on your part considering the severe nature of the other two men’s injuries, but you can’t help yourself. You need Joel to be okay or you won’t be okay. “We can have one of them do it. I’m sure they’re capable of an extraction.”

Tommy runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “I know Donna is helpin’ Luke with Peter. Rose is in the room next door tryin’ to stop Carl’s bleedin’—”

Your emotions boil over and finally, you snap. Turning to the younger man, you nearly shout at him in frustration. “He can’t just sit here with a fucking bullet lodged in his shoulder, Tommy!”

Taken aback by the outburst, Tommy raises his eyebrows but he says nothing.

“Wait a minute.” Ellie grabs your arm, garnering your attention. “Didn’t you take a bullet out of one of the horses once?”

“Yeah. She did,” Tommy realizes. “My horse, Ranger. He got in the shoulder durin’ an attack a couple years ago. She took the bullet right out and had him all patched up within an hour.”

Your eyes bounce between them in absolute disbelief. “Ranger’s a horse.”

“How different could it be?” Tommy wonders out loud, raking his hand through his black curls once more.

Furiously, you shake your head. “I’ve never treated a human wound before, at least not one like this. Cuts and scrapes, sure. But this is a gunshot wound, guys. I can’t—”

Ellie’s fingers dig anxiously into your arm. “Please do it,” she whispers, her eyes looking up into yours pleadingly. “You’ve got to help him. Please.”

Slowly, you turn to Joel, who hasn’t uttered a single word. “Would be kinda nice to get this fuckin’ thing outta my shoulder,” he remarks after a minute. He brings his gaze to meet yours and holds, forgetting all about subtlety. “I trust you.”

“Joel, I can’t. I’m not capable—”

“Oh fuck that, you are capable,” Ellie insists, shaking her head at you.

Helplessly, you turn to Tommy for backup.

“I’m gonna have to agree with with the kid, little lady. You’re capable. I just know it.”

“Please,” Ellie begs you. “It could be fucking hours before Luke gets to him. You said it yourself just a minute ago, Joel can’t just sit here with a fucking bullet in his shoulder. He could get an infection. Please, you have to do it. Do it for me.” Do it for him, she wants to say. But she knows she can’t.

Hearing the desperation in her voice, you don’t have much choice but to reluctantly agree to it. “Okay. Fine. I’ll do it,” you relent, exhaling a sigh of defeat. “But if I’m going to do this, I would rather do it without an audience watching me.”

“Say no more.” Tommy gently takes Ellie’s arm and starts tugging her towards the door. “C’mon. Let’s wait out in the hallway, kiddo.”

“But—” She begins to protest.

“Ellie.” Joel grits out her name. “Listen to Tommy.”

Annoyed, she huffs, “Jesus, okay. Fine.”

As soon as they disappear and close the door behind them, you turn back to Joel, your heart slamming against your ribcage.

“I trust you,” he repeats, firmly. “Alright?”

Swallowing harshly, you nod. “Alright.”

Walking over to the opposite side of the room, you begin digging around through various cabinets and in drawers, searching for the supplies that you would need—a bottle of saline solution, a pair of surgical forceps, and a clean needle for the stitches. You toss them onto a small silver tray along with plenty of gauze and a packet of nylon sutures that had expired well over fifteen years ago. The only thing you can’t find are gloves, and while you were sure there had to be a box somewhere in the clinic, you don’t have the spare time to search for them. You wash your hands as thoroughly as possible with warm water and a bit of natural, handmade antibacterial soap one of the women in the commune makes and sells in her apothecary shop on Main Street along with her healing ointments and salves.

Your mind spins as you dry off your hands and pick up the tray, slowly making your way over to Joel. You set it down on the exam table and stand in front of him, inhaling a long, deep breath through your nose. Exhaling it slowly and steadily through your mouth, you ask, “Are you ready?”

Joel places his hand on your hip, his fingers brushing the skin that peeks between the waistband of your jeans and the lace hem of your yellow camisole. “Think I should be the one askin’ you that question, darlin’.”

You could have laughed. “Of course I’m not.”

“You can do this, baby. I know you can.”

“How can you be so sure about that, Joel?”

“‘Cause. I know my girl,” Joel murmurs, softly. He makes certain to keep his voice low, just in case Tommy and Ellie happen to be standing too close to the door. “And I know she’s capable of a hell of a lot more than she thinks she is. I believe in you, peach,” he asserts, giving your hip a gentle squeeze. “I trust you with my fuckin’ life.”

Your eyes glaze over with tears and you exhale a shaky breath. It’s not just his words, it’s the sincerity behind them—he means it when he says he trusts you with his life. If it ever came down to it, he would put it right in your hands.

“It’s going to hurt like hell,” you warn him. “I don’t have any anesthetic to numb the area.”

His hand falls away from you and he curls it into a loose fist on his thigh. “Trust me, I’ve had a whole lot worse, sweetheart.”

Reaching for the cloth on his shoulder, your hands threaten to tremble but you will them to stay as steady as possible as you remove it, setting side before picking up the bottle of saline and a piece of gauze. The bleeding had ceased. You clean the area well and give yourself a clear view of the thumb sized projectile. “It’s pretty superficial,” you observe, wiping at the wound and causing him to wince. “It doesn’t look like it caused any kind of severe damage, either.” Throwing the used gauze aside, you take the pair of forceps and show them to him. “Ready?”

“Ain’t got much of a choice, do I now?”

“Nope.” You flash him a tiny, wry smile. “Okay, I’m going to count to three and begin the extraction. I need you to stay as still as possible, alright?”

Joel nods grimly, his jaw clenched and lips pressed in a tight line.

“One, two, three—take a big, deep breath in and let it out slowly through your nose.”

He does as you instruct him, his fist tightening on his leg as he braces himself.

Firmly holding the forceps, you carefully insert the jaws of the instrument into his wound. Although you want to get the painful procedure over with as quickly as possible, you have to be careful not to cause any kind of further damage to his shoulder. “Fuck,” Joel hisses through gritted teeth, his eyes pinching closed. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Didn’t think it’d hurt this fuckin’ bad.”

You manage to get a good grip on the bullet with the forceps. “Almost done,” you assure him. “I’m going to pull it out now. Take another deep breath in for me and hold it.”

He nods and inhales, his chest expanding.

“On three, let it out—one, two, three.”

Joel exhales sharply as you swiftly pull the bullet from his shoulder. “Fuck!” he curses again, shaking his head. Even though his shoulder feels like it’s on fire, he does feel a huge sense of relief as soon as the round comes out.

“Got it,” you say, lifting the forceps. You show Joel the projectile clamped in the instrument’s jaws. It makes you sick to your stomach to think that there was even a slight possibility that the bullet you’re holding in your hand could have hit him somewhere else—it could have been a fatal shot. Shoving the nauseating thought out of your mind, you set it down on the tray and pick up the bottle of saline and a couple pieces of clean gauze. After flushing the wound and cleaning it a second time, you take a closer look at it just to be sure there’s no serious damage to the tissues in his shoulder. “Everything looks alright from what I can see. I cleaned it as best I could, but there’s always a risk for infection so you’ll have to take a round of antibiotics. You’ll also have to wear a sling for about four to six weeks. Doctor’s orders,” you add with a tiny, jeering smile when you clock the disdain on his face.

“Shit. That mean’s Tommy’s gonna pull me off of patrol,” he realizes, miserably. “What the hell am I gonna do for four to six weeks?”

Amused, you raise an eyebrow at him. “Recover from being shot?”

“Yeah I s’ppose I am,” he mutters with an eye roll.

Calm, tranquil silence falls over you as you prepare the suture, looping it through the needle. The moment you start stitching him up, an emotional lump rises in the back of your throat and you’re not sure why. Joel is fine. He’s alive. He’s going to be okay, and yet, all you can do is think about how frightened you’d been when Tommy ran into the stables covered in blood and said that Joel had been shot. How terrifying it was to think he was dead.

He says your name softly.

When you don’t acknowledge him, he reverts to his nickname for you. “Peach.”

You hum, trying to stay focused on finishing the task of closing up his wound. “Hm?”

“Look at me, baby.”

“Joel, I’m kind of in the middle of someth—”

“I love you.”

Stopping mid stitch, you look at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

“Darlin’, I can’t count the number of times I almost fuckin’ said, but couldn’t. How many times those words have been right there on the tip of my tongue and just when I’m ‘bout to say them, I lose the nerve. After what happened today, m’gonna stop bein’ such a fuckin’ fool. M’gonna tell you every chance I get,” Joel vows, his gaze piercing into yours. “You had my heart from day fuckin’ one and you’re gonna have it for the rest of my life, sweet girl. I love you.”

His declaration knocks all of the wind out of your lungs and leaves you breathless. Speechless.

“AIn’t gotta say it back to me until you’re ready,” Joel reassures you. “Y’know how I feel ‘bout you—but I think it was time you finally heard it.”

You choke down your emotions—now isn’t the time to break down, not when you have a needling poking through his flesh. It’s not exactly how you pictured you professing your love for each other, but it feels right. “I love you too, Joel,” you whisper back to him. “I’ve been wanting to say it to you too, but I’ve just been afraid.” You pause and realize, “I’m not afraid anymore.”

Joel tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “Do me a real big favor darlin’ and finish stitchin’ me up quick ‘cause I’m fuckin’ dyin’ for a kiss.”

Letting out a tearful little laugh, you carefully finish pitching him up. As soon as you finish with the last stitch, Joel wraps his uninjured arm around your waist. “C’mere baby,” he murmurs. He tugs you forward so you’re standing between his legs and tilts his head up towards yours.

You smile at him before leaning in, molding your mouth to his in a sweet kiss.

As you do, Luke’s voice echoes loudly out in the hallway. “What the hell do you mean she’s—”

Jerking away from Joel, you jump back just as the door swings open.

Luke bursts into the examination room with Tommy and Ellie behind him. His dark green eyes flit from you to Joel and then back to you again.

“Joel!” Ellie shoves past him. “You okay?”

“M’alright,” he replies stiffly, his eyes carefully trained on your husband.

“Tommy told me you were treating Joel’s wound.” Luke approaches you, and while he is keeping a collected composure for the sake of not causing a scene in front of the other people in the room, you know him better than that. He’s furious, but he’s masking it well.

Nervously, you nod. “Yes. I extracted the bullet from his shoulder, flushed and cleaned the wound, and stitched him up.” You notice the blood on his light blue medical scrubs and glance around him at Tommy. “How is Peter?”

His expression is grim. “Didn’t make it.”

“God,” you mutter, your heart clenching in your chest as you think of Martha. She’s just lost her husband.

Luke walks over to Joel, whose hands are curled into fists in his lap. He inspects his shoulder, observing the work you’d done. He then looks over his shoulder at you and frowns. “You shouldn’t have done this,” your husband chastises you, shaking his head tightly. “You aren’t a trained medical professional. Do you even realize—”

“Your wife did a good fuckin’ job,” Joel cuts him off. “She knew what she was doin’.”

Luke’s head whips back around and the two men’s eyes meet in a tense exchange.

“Give her some more fuckin’ credit than that. She’s amazin’,” the older man states, his nostrils flaring.

“Yeah,” Ellie chimes in agreement, crossing her arms over her chest. She narrows her eyes at Luke. “She’s fucking amazing.”

Luke turns to her and arches an eyebrow. Before he can say anything, the sound of Donna’s voice comes from the room next door.

“Luke! I need a little help in here!”

Lips pursed together, Luke takes a step back from Joel and turns on his heel to leave. As he passes you, he stops briefly, long enough to whisper to you quietly, “We’ll talk about this at home.”

A chill runs down your spine.

You know exactly what he means by that.

Luke tosses you a subtle glare and stalks out of the room.

“I should go and find Maria,” Tommy states with a sad sigh. “We’re gonna have to break the news to Martha about Peter.” He gives you a nod. “Thank you, little lady. For takin’ such good care of my big brother.” He disappears, closing the door behind him and leaving the three of you alone.

Ellie comes up to you, curling her arms around your waist. “Thank you. We fucking owe you one.”

You say nothing as you hug her back, holding onto her tightly.

You try not to think about what’s in store for you later that evening at home.

#joel miller #joel miller story #joel miller series #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x oc #joel miller hbo #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal characters #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #fic: ash #fic: a safe haven

1K notes · View notes

loversatthegreatdivide · 6 months ago

Text

Heavy Lies the Heart - Chapter 6

Masterlist // Continue Reading

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC Word Count: 2.6k Tropes: mutual pining, fluff, angst with a happy ending, royalty Warnings: death Summary: When two second-borns looking for direction meet by chance, can they find purpose in each other? Or will circumstance keep them apart? A/N: First of all, writing as Whistledown is rough. Second, I'm glad that it seems like everyone is liking this story so far! I had a lot of fun with this chapter, so hopefully you'll enjoy it too!

Dearest Gentle Reader,

This author hardly knows where to begin, with last nights ball so abound with secrets and scandals.

The young ladies of the ton never shine brighter than in the darkness of the evening. Yet last nights events have shown that, while some gleam as brightly as the stars, there are others whose light shines far dimmer then the rest.

Penelope Featherington, out now for her third season in the marriage mart, is one such dim light. Miss Featherington, who was so certain that she would be unable to find a husband on her own, enlisted the help of Mister Colin Bridgerton. And while we all knew Miss Featherington's hopes of finding a husband were slim at best, this recent scandal will certainly make any further hopes disappear. Whatever faint glow Miss Featherington may have once possessed has surely now gone out.

But Penelope Featherington was not the only scandal we witnessed unfold.

Her Royal Highness, Princess Beatrice shown brilliantly on her second appearance of the season. The young princess garnered much attention from the members of the ton, but none moreso than Mister Benedict Bridgerton.

Having shared her first dance of the season with Mister Bridgerton, it was clear to this author that sparks were flying. Their shared looks were hardly subtle, and one has to wonder how two relative strangers found themselves, by all appearances, so well acquainted.

The princess danced five times in total, sharing a scandalous three with Mister Bridgerton. Their lack of proprietary and the princesses clear favoritism shocked many of the ton, but this author cannot help but applaud their boldness.

A royal falling for a commoner is hardly a new story. However, with the crowns stiff traditions and the rumored strict parenting of the Prince Regent, will this tale end in tragedy? Is there to be a royal wedding in our future, or will circumstance keep these two lovebirds apart?

This author, as ever, eagerly awaits to see what unfolds.

---

Benedict once again found himself slumped deeply onto the settee in the Bridgerton drawing room. His arms lay crossed over his chest as he looked anywhere but at Anthony, whose scowl had made an unwelcome return after its brief, but welcome, absence.

"What in God's name were you thinking?" he asked roughly, brandishing the latest copy of Lady Whistledown in his hand. The rest of the family, excluding the two youngest members, sat around the room, with expressions ranging from sympathetic and worried, to extremely uncomfortable. "Of all our siblings, I thought you the least likely to cause trouble this season. I thought you had more sense than this Benedict."

Eloise scowled at the veiled accusation. She looked to Francesca, whose only reaction was to stare blankly at the floor until the hostility inevitably subsided.

"It was quite a surprise--did you not tell me yourself last night that it was your first time even seeing the princess?" Colin asked.

Anthony turned his scowl on his younger brother, "You are not off the hook yet either--while our reputation may not have been effected by your actions, poor Miss Featherington's is all but ruined thanks to you."

Colin looked away from his brother, a look of guilt clear on his face. Unnoticed, Eloise's expression mirrored his.

"However, that will have to wait," Anthony turned his attention back to Benedict, "At present, our biggest concern is what in the world possessed our dear brother to act so foolhardy, and what is to be done about it."

"Now, perhaps we can all calm down for a moment," Violet suggested, smiling as she attempted to defuse the situation.

"Yes Anthony, your mother's right," Kate agreed, "We have not even heard what Benedict has to say about it--this could all just be a misunderstanding."

Everyone turned their attention to Benedict, eagerly awaiting his response.

He had another choice in front of him. Either he could downplay the situation to the best of his ability, hoping to keep his family in the dark about the full extent of his relationship with Beatrice. This seemed at least somewhat doable; it was unlikely any of them suspected he was taking late night promenades with an unchaperoned princess.

The other option was simply to tell them everything. His family did seem to have a knack for discovering secrets that its members would rather keep hidden. He knew it was only a matter of time before they learned everything; and all the more likely, given his desire to be with Beatrice. It would be rather obvious he had lied if he continued to pursue her publicly.

Benedict sighed, sitting up as he clasped his hands in front of him. He looked at Anthony, who stared back exactingly.

"Alright fine, you've caught me. I suppose there is no point in lying about it now: Beatrice and I have been seeing each other in secret, and we have become quite...attached," he admitted.

There was a silence throughout the room as his family stared back at him in shock and horror. In an instant, the silence was filled with the roar of multiple voices shouting out at once--including two that had, until this moment, been eavesdropping quietly in the next room.

"You've been doing what?"

"Have you gone mad?"

"Did you just use the princesses first name? Just how close are the two of you, Benedict?"

"What does attached me? Brother, you didn't..."

"Heaven help us, how will her majesty react to all this?"

"If the two of you marry, will that make Benedict a prince?"

"What? Does that mean we would have to call him your highness? Because I absolutely refuse."

The jumbled voices mixed together until Benedict could hardly make out what was being said. Finally he stood, throwing his hands out.

"Alright enough!" he shouted, quelling the storm of questions and concerns, "I know it was...unwise to meet a young lady unchaperoned, but I can assure you the time was spent on conversation--nothing more," he emphasized, "I was...unaware of her station when these meetings began. She had kept it a secret, and I only learned of her title when she was presented at the ball last night--though I will admit to knowing she was likely of higher rank."

He ran a hand through his think, brown hair as he looked to the floor.

"I have no idea what is to be done now, if anything can be done but," he sighed, "That being said, it is my intention to pursue her...as far as we are permitted to go," he looked back up at them, "I...I love her."

The room was silent once more, no one quite sure how to respond to his bold declaration. Benedict swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, uncomfortable in the uncharacteristically quiet room.

"Oh, Benedict my dear," his mother finally spoke. Her voice was a mixture of happiness and sympathy, clearly unsure what to make of the situation or how best to advice him.

Benedict looked down, "If you'll excuse me." Without waiting for a response, he quickly made his way out of the drawing room; the wide eyes of his family following him as he went.

---

Beatrice sat, stiff and silent, as the queen sipped her tea in the chair opposite her. Dread filled her as she waited for her grandmother to speak: To reprimand, to yell, to show some sign at all as to what she was thinking. Be she waited in vain, the queen seeming content in leaving the words unspoken as Beatrice's heart threatened to give out with every passing second.

Queen Charlotte had of course received the latest copy of Whistledown that morning, reading it with haste as she always did. Not that she had needed Whistledown to tell her what she had seen with her own eyes. After her first dance, the queen's eyes hardly wavered from Beatrice. Charlotte had watched her granddaughter like a bird of pray stalking a field mouse, observing her every move, her every expression and gesture.

Their carriage ride home had been eerily quiet. Charlotte was hardly known for keeping her opinions to herself, yet she had said nothing to Beatrice the entire trip back to Buckingham House. Now, having not spoken since their arrival at the ball the night before, Beatrice grew more and more anxious of what would be said when that silence was finally broken.

Her grandmother set her teacup down with a clank, and Beatrice sat up as straight as a board.

"Beatrice," Charlotte spoke at last.

"Y-yes, grandmama?"

"You know I am no fool." It was a statement, not a question.

"Ah...yes, grandmama."

"I am unaware how it is you've managed to spend time with that man without notice, and I suspect I would not be happy to know. However what I do know, is that whatever has been transpiring between the two of you stops now."

Beatrice looked down shamefully, "Yes, grandmama."

"Your father will no doubt have heard the news, and is assuredly on his way here to scold you severely. I suspect he will likely insist on you leaving Buckingham House immediately."

"But--" Beatrice began to argue, only to be silenced by a piercing stare from the queen.

There was a long moment of quiet as Charlotte ran her hands over the small, fluffy dog in her lap. She seemed to think something over.

"Tell me, what are your intentions with this Benedict Bridgerton? A passing fancy is well enough for the common crowd, but royalty hardly has such a luxury. Our every move is scrutinized--you moreso than others as the daughter of the future king."

"It is not a--" Beatrice was clearly upset, but willed herself to stop and take a breath, "I know father would never approve, but it is my deepest desire to be with him. I love him, grandmama, and I...well I don't care what father thinks, or anyone else for that matter." She held her head up as she attempted to look resolute.

The queen quickly took another sip from her teacup, hiding the slight smirk that had formed at the corner of her lips.

"I see," was her only reply.

Silence fell between them once more as they awaited the inevitable arrival of the Prince Regent. The queen's face was a mask that hid her true feelings, while Beatrice's face betrayed her renewed feelings of dread. Her grandmother may not have been harsh--a miracle if there ever was one--but her father would most certainly not have the same composure.

---

"The absolute indignity of it all--the indecency!"

George IV, Prince Regent of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, the future king, and Beatrice's father, paced the floor of the lavish drawing room as he ranted on and on. His displeasure with the situation had been expressed in at least one hundred different ways already, yet he seems to always have more to say.

"Papa, if you would only listen--" His daughter pleaded, but to no avail.

"Listen? As I listened when you requested to stay at Buckingham house for the season? As I listened when you promised me nothing of consequence would occur? As I listened when you assured me that you would behave as a princess should?"

"It was only dancing papa, nothing more!"

"Then why is there word across London that you've been having secret trysts with this man--this Bridgerton--since you arrived!"

Beatrice stood, her fist balled at her sides, "That is a lie! Whistledown has made everyone believe something untoward has taken place between us, but that is untrue!"

Queen Charlotte, who sat watching silently from the sidelines, eyed her granddaughter. Whether or not she believed her, she said nothing.

"So you would have me believe there is nothing between the two of you then? That you and he have no attachment?" George asked skeptically.

"I," Beatrice hesitated, "I would not say that is entirely the case."

Her father's face went red with rage as a tense air filled the room.

"You are to return to Warwick House immediately," the prince ordered through gritted teeth.

Beatrice shifted in place, before looking her father in the eyes with as much courage as she could muster, "I...I will not."

"I beg your pardon?" George stared at his daughter in disbelief.

"I, I wish to stay, and," she swallowed, "And I wish for Benedict Bridgerton and I to be allow to court."

Charlotte's eyebrow raised in interest, her gaze returning to her son as she waited to hear his reply. George was nearly dumbstruck at the request. It was a rare occasion that his youngest daughter ever spoke back or questioned his authority--for her to do both in one sentience was practically unheard of.

"You, I--How dare you ask--"

"You allowed Charlotte to choose her husband, why should I be allowed any less?" Beatrice questioned, feeling emboldened with every word.

"The situation with your sister was quite different, as you are well aware. And at the very least she had the good sense to choose a prince!" her father reminded her loudly.

Beatrice scowled, "That does not change the fact that she refused the marriage you arranged for her in favor of one she chose for herself! And did you yourself not try to take a commoner for a bride? How can you scorn me my love when you out of everyone should understand my feelings?"

"Love?" George repeated, clearly on the verge of another hours-long lecture.

"Alright, I believe I have heard quite enough," Queen Charlotte cut in, standing as she looked to her son.

"Mother--"

"Enough, Georgie," she commanded, and, despite his position as regent, he obeyed, "You have already agreed to allow Beatrice to stay at Buckingham House--so she shall stay."

"But I--"

Charlotte raised her hand, "I am not done. In addition, I would have you consider the request your daughter has made from you."

"What? I would never--"

"It is your decision of course, you are the Prince Regent and thus have the final say on all royal marriages. However, I implore you to consider the misconduct and scandals you and your family have already brought to this, the noblest of houses."

"That is hardly--"

"Frankly dear, the people dislike you. Allowing Princess Charlotte to marry the man she chose was perhaps the one thing you've done so far that has won you any manner of good will from the people. Perhaps allowing Princess Beatrice, a current darling of the ton, to do the same will have a similar effect on the rather poor image the people have of you."

George stood silent, stunned at his mother's stance on the issue. Beatrice looked between the two of them, just as surprised. She hadn't a clue as to why her grandmother seemed to be championing her relationship with Benedict, but she would hardly complain. Her grandmother was perhaps the only hope Beatrice had of convincing her father to agree to her wishes.

"I," George paused, "I will take it under consideration, mother."

"That is all I ask. It is, as I said, your choice to make," Queen Charlotte smiled, "Though you should consider quickly--we will be expected to make a statement of some sort soon enough, lest the rumors grow wild and out of control."

"Yes, mother," he replied, his anger all but deflated in his mother's overbearing presence.

"Wonderful," Charlotte turned to Beatrice, "Now, shall we then, my dear? I believe I would enjoy hearing some music after all this noise."

Beatrice responded quickly, hoping to leave the negative atmosphere permeating the room as soon as possible, "Ah! Yes of course, grandmama!"

Queen Charlotte moved elegantly out of the drawing room, with Beatrice following close behind. This left George alone, standing awkwardly in a stiff, unpleasant silence. He huffed, shaking his head and grumbling to himself as he exited the room soon after.

----------

Tags: @empressnatsume @sarahskywalker-amidala @may-and-lay @asterizee @g4ns3y @bubblegumcat229 @mhmoony

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x oc #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #heavy lies the heart #my writing #loversatthegreatdivide

84 notes · View notes

resident-gay-bitch · 25 days ago

Text

🦇 Stranger Saturdays 🦇

Will x Mike (Byler) cute getting together (3k words)

“Hey, what are you drawing?” Mike asked, almost falling out of the chair he was swinging on to get a good look at the page Will was entirely focused on.

“None of your business, nosey.” Will scoffed, turning his page even further from Mike's view. But he glanced up, rolling his eyes and shaking his head with a soft look on his face, considering Mike for just a moment before turning back to his drawing.

Mike felt himself blush at the fleeting attention. Mike always feels a little flustered with Will's attention, and it was only recently that he became aware as to why.

It took El dumping him, which was not the best feeling. Getting dumped, whether one actually has feelings for their girlfriend or not, will always be a punch to the gut… and the ego.

It was when Mike was complaining to Lucas about it later that things started clicking into place.

You don’t love me, She said, You spend more time looking at your best friend than you do at me.

Why don’t you call me as much as you call Will?

When we were both hurt, you went to Will first!

It took Lucas actually slapping him around the head to get it. To get why.

And it’s infuriating; knowing that you’re in love with your best friend, that is. Mike was very happy being completely ignorant to the fact, thank you very much. At least then he could be a little bit soppy without feeling like he’s gonna be crowned town pariah.

Besides, it’s agonising, wondering if his feelings could possibly be reciprocated. But he doubts the fact. The chances of Will being queer in this small town too are already slim, and the chance of him loving Mike, out of everyone else? Well, that's even slimmer.

Lucas is a far better option.

Hell, even Dustin!

Even Steve, and that’s really saying something, because Steve is annoying as all hell and a total loser.

But sometimes… sometimes it feels like… Sometimes Mike gets his hopes up, and it’s like a little spark in his chest that's fighting to not blow out. He never wants that spark to die.

He blows a raspberry at Will and brings his chair back down to four feet, playing off his stumble very cool-ly so the teacher doesn’t take his chair away from him again. He gets told about some made up kid that swung on his chair, cracked his head open and died, at least once a week these days.

“You don’t have to see everything I draw.” Will comments after a while, sensing Mike's blatant disappointment with the fact.

He loves how easily Will can read him.

Though, he’s sure his dramatic sighs and groans are obvious enough for anyone to read at this current moment. But in a more general sense, even when Mike is adamant on keeping his emotions on lock. Wills just… he’s got this way about him; an internal compass that points directly at Mike's moody feelings and gives him step by step instructions on how to cheer him up.

“But I like everything you draw.” Mike sighs, leans a hand on his chin as he melts onto the desk, neglecting his work completely.

“Well, you can like everything else. This is just for me.” Will says, attention completely on the page again and Mike has never been jealous of paper, but suddenly, he is.

“I can never see it?” Mike pouts, “Not even when it’s done?”

“Nope.” Will shakes his head, keeps sketching.

“Why not?” Mike asks, nosey, nosey, always nosey when it comes to Will Byers.

“Because…” Will sighs, stops for a moment to glance up at Mike before his attention is gone again, “It’s embarrassing. It’s… it’s stupid, okay, it’s just for my own practice and enjoyment. It’s not even good.”

“I’m sure it’s great–”

“Whatever.” Will rolls his eyes and smiles, “I’m too embarrassed to show you, so leave it alone. Maybe when were thirty.”

“You better keep it ‘till we’re thirty then.” Mike huffed, laying his upper body flat on the desk now in a dramatic display of boredom, “Can’t believe you won’t show me. I thought we were best friends, I saw your butt once, nothings embarrassing–”

“You didn’t mean to see my butt!” Will laughed, “Stop using that as an argument for everything.”

“Sorry.” Mike groaned, poking his tongue out, “I just want to see your art.”

“I’ll draw something else to show you later.”

Mike blew another raspberry, and Will completely ignored him. This feels similar to torture, for Mike. He’s not sure what to do with himself, when Will ignores him. No matter how many fart noises he makes, how many bad jokes he cracks, no matter how much he wails and wiggles around, Will just ignores him. Barely even laughs!

And Mike feels utterly betrayed by this, and maybe a little heartbroken. He lives for Will's attention, and more importantly his happiness, and most importantly his affection. And in this current moment, Will is refusing Mike all of those pleasures.

And he’s too embarrassed to show Mike his drawing. Which is insane, because it’s probably something cool like a freaky weird dragon, or The Party going to battle or something.

Or maybe it’s something creepy and haunted. Will does that sometimes, draws his nightmares, the pictures getting more and more graphic as he ages. And he tends to not show Mike those, so Mike doesn’t have to worry about them. But Mike always finds out, and he worries anyway, because he just wants the best for Will. Wants to make everything better, or as good as he can.

He only hopes to bring Will half as much comfort as Will brings him.

“William.” The teacher calls, peering down her glasses and waving him over with a finger, “I have a question about your essay.”

Will glances over at Mike and pulls a sour face before hopping up. Mike gives him a sympathetic smile, hopes Will doesn’t get detention or anything. Though, it would be funny since he’s the only one out of the Party who hasn’t gotten a detention yet. Somehow.

Mike watches them, as Will pulls up a chair with a little annoyance. And Mike feels that annoyance even more, because that means Will is going to be up there, and away from Mike for a while. And Mike already misses him.

Boredom gets even worse, and Mikes got this bad feeling stirring in his gut. He’s desperate to know what Will's drawing. What he’s so embarrassed about. And he knows it’s bad, knows it’s a boundary to peek, but Will has never kept a drawing from Mike before. Not really.

Sure he’s chosen not to show things to Mike, but if asked, he’ll share. He’s never denied Mike the ability to awe over his best friend's work.

So, when he’s not looking, Mike leans over in his chair until there's only one leg of it on the ground.

He’s wobbling, one hand on the corner of Wills desk to attempt to help support him, his tongue strategically poked out of his mouth, and he’s glancing over at them every couple of seconds to make sure he’s not going to get caught.

And with his middle finger, he’s able to carefully lift the corner of the closed page to catch a tiny peak.

But he can’t quite make it out, so he dares a glance to the front, and lifts the closed page higher.

He furrows his brow, because he’s sure he’s seeing things– Or, he’s not quite sure what he’s seeing at all.

He stretches his arm as far as he can to open the page almost ninety-degrees, and staring up at him, coloured fully in vibrant pencil, is a portrait.

A portrait of Mike.

And it’s… wow, it’s amazing.

Mike has never thought he was all that good looking, but this drawing really does him a good justice. And his hair looks fucking great.

The portraits got every one of his freckles, his dimples, the smiling wrinkles of his eyes. Behind him is golden and warm, cast in beams of light that set him centre stage, making him look almost godly. Makes it seem like he’s actually something worth looking at.

And when his eyes fix on the little hearts floating around his head, and the scribble of “Mr. Will Wheeler” down the bottom, Mike falls out of his chair.

He splats down on the ground with a clatter, his chair somehow bouncing off the ground and landing on his back, ow.

“Mike Wheeler! How many times have I told you not to swing in your chair?” The teacher bellows for probably the millionth time.

Mike just groans in response, this is humiliating. He’s never fallen out of his chair before. And to do so in front of his whole class? Humiliating.

He can hear Max somewhere in the classroom laughing her ass off. Total trator.

“Detention. Now!”

Mike rolled his eyes and got himself to his feet, collected his things and headed towards the front of the class. Not without a sparse glance at the sketchbook again, now closed, thankfully. But Mike knows what’s nestled within.

As he walks to the teacher, to collect his detention slip, Will shakes his head laughing. He seems relaxed, which means he didn’t see Mike peaking, which is good for now, since they can’t talk about it.

Shit.

They have to talk about it.

In haste, Mike collects his detention slip and races out of the room. He obviously doesn’t go to detention, instead he ditches school and skates around town because he’s freaking out and this is the only way he can think to pass the time and calm down. His moms probably gonna kill him, but whatever.

Mr. Will Wheeler.

Mike's heart is in his throat and his hands are trembling and he’s sweating and riddled with nerves. He doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

Mr. Will Wheeler.

This is… everything.

He’s spent so long skating around and rambling in his own head about what to do, he didn’t realise school had gotten out. He only realised when the sun began to tint the sky orange and warm, casting Hawkins in a golden glow that made something once drabby into something worth looking at, just for a moment. And Mike thinks about the portrait.

And he thinks about it.

And he thinks about it. All the way to the Byers house. All the way to Will's bedroom window, which he climbs through without knocking.

“What are you doing?” Will asks, a hand to his chest from the spook Mike caused. He almost dropped his cup of soda, sitting it down on his desk, flicking his sketchbook closed before Mike's eyes could pry, he thinks, “Where'd you go after English? Are you okay, you seem off?”

Mike shook his head, sets his skateboard down under the window, drops his backpack, “I saw your drawing.”

Will's face turned ghostly white, “What?”

“I looked.” Mike said plainly, almost lost of breath completely. Who knew talking to the guy he loved, knowing he felt somewhat the same, would be so breathtaking, “I’m sorry, but I looked. I saw what you drew… what you wrote.”

“Fuck– Mike, I’m– I–” Will began to stutter, slowly trying to back away before he collided hip to his desk, “I’m so sorry, please don’t–”

“I’m gonna kiss you.” Mike said, very still in place, “That okay?”

“That– What?” Will asked, cherry red now, clearly as terrified as Mike was.

“I’m gonna kiss you.” Mike said again, nodding to help convince himself to actually do it. To kiss him. To kiss Will.

“You’re…”

Mike nodded one more time before charging forward, grabbing Will by the face, and kissing him.

Will definitely didn’t pull away.

In fact, he grabbed Mike back, pulling him closer and closer. And this… this is that fairytale shit in all of Holly's story books. This has got to be true love, or something.

It’s gotta be.

“Honey, I’ve got– Oh!”

The both of them split apart all too fast as the door swung wide open, Joyce standing in it, staring at them both. Mike is about to freak out.

“I’ve been waiting for this to happen– keep the door open, please. Are you staying for dinner, honey? We're having meatloaf.”

Neither of the boys answered for a long while. Clearly just as confused as the other. It took Joyce shaking her head at them, confused, to jolt Mike into action.

“What?” He asked, stuttering it out.

“Are you staying for dinner?”

“Uh… S-sure.” Mike said, because he’s not very good at saying no to Joyce these days.

“Okay, can you two set the table for me then?”

Mike and Will were still stuck standing in place, each a little worried to move. Mikes a little worried that the moment he does move, Will will take all of that back.

“Hello?” Joyce said, now standing with her hands on her hips, “What is with you two today– is it because I walked in on you kissing, because I’ve seen worse, you don’t wanna know the things I’ve walked in on Jon doing–”

“Ew, mom.” Will scoffed.

Joyce laughed, walking over into the room to tidy up Will's bed, “Don’t worry about me. Anyway, dinner will be ready in ten, so come out quickly.”

“Okay, mom, can you please…”

“You’re okay with it?” Mike asked, terribly pale in the face.

Joyce froze, turning her head to look at him for a moment, considering the pair. With a sigh she wandered over, her soft hand on his cheek, and she has to look up at him now– at both of them. She keeps going on about how they have to stop growing so fast.

“Honey, all I want for my boys is happiness.” She smiled, leant up to press a little kiss to his cheek, “I’ve known about this for a long time, longer than you, I’m guessing. I’m surprised Will didn’t tell you that we’re okay with this around here. And don’t worry, I won’t tell your mom anything you don’t want me to.” She said with a wink, turning and leaving the room.

“Ten minutes.” She called, as if she hadn’t just said the most meaningful thing she’s ever said to Mike, “Jon, El! Dinner’s almost ready, come help your brother and his boyfriend set the table.”

Mikes heart is in his throat.

“Boyfriend?” Came three consecutive shouts throughout the house.

Beside him, Will groaned, shuffled over to his bed where he flopped down face first into it, “This is mortifying.”

“Mortifying?” Mike scoffed, “Your mom just told your whole family we were in a relationship before we even agreed on a relationship!”

Will turned his head, peaking one eye up at Mike, “But… we’re… we’re in a relationship?”

Mike could feel his cheeks burning up, and he’s sure he looks stupid, blushing this much. But it can’t really be helped after kissing the boy he loves, and with the prospect of more.

Mike nodded his head, and Will turned back into his bedsheets. The two of them stayed like that for a moment, equally as nervous, equally as awkward. They were only torn out of the best new seconds of the rest of Mike's life when they heard Hopper shout out from the kitchen.

“Not Mike again!”

On the bed, Will broke out in hysterics.

“He hates me.” Mike muttered.

Rolling onto his back, Will smiled, reaching a hand out for Mike. And when he took it, his hand felt like it was burning, sparks flying everywhere. Will's hand is so soft and warm, and Mike doesn’t want to ever let go. He lets himself be dragged over towards the bed.

“Yes, he does.” Will says through laughter, “But he's just gonna have to put up with that.”

Before Mike could get another word in, Will yanked him down onto the bed, Mike toppling over on top of him. And they were kissing again.

And Mike never wants to leave this moment. He’s sure this is the best thing he’s ever done, other than asking Will to be his friend that day on the swing sets.

He can’t wait for the rest of their lives.

ive never written byler before so this was fun yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy i think they're so sweet and i cant wait for them to become cannon in season 5 :)

ive been rooting for them sincei was 14 and watching season 1 when it first came out and thinking oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck they remind me of myself and my best friend oh fuck does this make me gay too?

#jay writes #byler #fluff #mike wheeler #will byers #epic joyce moment #i love her #mentions of hop being okay with will being gay but not okay with him being in a relationship with mike #mike x will #will x mike #stranger things #byler fluff #byler ficlet #one shot #byler endgame #byler nation

23 notes · View notes

satrs · 2 years ago

Text

ᴅᴇᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ!

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; you're interested in your mayjor professor? What a scandal.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 2.3k

Tags; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI!. age gap(reader in early 20's aki in late 30's). bit exhibitionism(risky). nicknames(sir, slut, good girl). Breeding kink. Unprotected sex.

ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ 18+!

It was one day, when you got introduced to your new major professor for your semester, and boom- you had a crush. A big one at that.

You just found everything about him enthralling, from his little ponytail to his stoic expressions and serious manner. But it was his mysterious private life that got you going.

Normally, some of your previous professors would at least be a bit open about their private lives, mentioning their kids or wives- but him? Nothing.

He came, taught his classes, and went on his merry way. It frustrated you. You wanted to know more about him, did he have a wife? Hopefully not. Or kids? You were good with kids, to be honest.

What was his type in women? Petite ones? Shy? Or was he a votary of the body? Voluptuous? Or did he prefer slim women?

You had an urgent need to know, to know what the likelihood of him being drawn to you would be. It was not like you wanted to build up a life with him- a good fuck would be satisfactory.

"Miss Y/N? If you're not paying attention to my teaching, you are free to leave this classroom."

Mr. Hayakawa's voice lets your hair stand on end, drawing your attention back to him at the very front of the class. Everyone turned their heads in your direction, non-readable expressions on their faces.

You were embarrassed. This was the second time, in one day that you got a warning from the one teacher you were trying to get into your panties.

Very well done Y/N. He must think you're some impolite brat, still stuck in your high school years. Chance blown.

"I-I'm sorry, it won't happen again", you mumbled under your breath while averting your gaze from your class, hoping they would soon recover their attention back to his teachings.

But his resistant gaze never wavered, piercing your skull. His eyes soon lifted, leaving a sour expression on his face.

Your heart was beating in your chest, hands growing sweaty the more you fumbled with the end of your pitiful short skirt.

His eyes quickly flickered to where your hands were, quickly swallowing the lump in his throat as he caught the sight of your plush tighs. Damned be those short dresses, and you unconsciously winding it up didn't help him at all.

His sense holding his thoughts by a thread, he returned his gaze to your face, "You should come to me after class. We should discuss your behavior to prevent future inconveniences."

Your breath hitched, fingers tightly gripping your skirt in anticipation and embarrassment, "Yes sir."

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest as the bell rang, signaling the end of this lesson. You saw Mister Hayakawa clean the chalkboard, doing some things on his table after.

You sat on your chair, glued, unable to stand up or move, eyes inspecting your professor's movements.

More and more of your classmate left the room, the atmosphere growing more quiet with every student disappearing.

Soon, you felt your professor's blue eyes bore through yours. He motioned you to move him to the front with his index and middle finger, returning to doing something on his documents.

You gathered all your courage and stood up, making your way to the front. With every step you took, you felt excitement rushing through your veins, his attention soon on you as you stood on the opposite of where he was seated.

He rested his chin on his open palm, eyeing you up and down. Did he... just look at your skirt? Oh my god, he's still looking.

"The dress code of this University clearly states to wear the skirt over the knees, not thighs." You felt your face heat up at his comment, quickly mumbling endless apologies, and adjusting your skirt correctly.

His eyes now flew to your blouse, "Your blouse it's not how it's supposed to be, is it?"

This was the worst and best day of your life at the same time. Yes, you did get humiliated in front of your class and crush, but it was your crush who we're talking about right now.

Hands flying to your blouse to fully close the buttons, his voice made you halt your movements and glance at him through your lashes.

"Do you think I'm some dumb fuck? I know what you're doing, miss Y/N."

You bit the inside of your cheek, slyly looking anywhere but at him, "I don't know what you're talking about sir."

He let out a pity laugh at your answer, telling you to take a seat in front of him. He stood up, walking around the table until he stood right next to you, eyes glaring down at your form.

"Your skirt is always rilled up so high, blouse barely buttoned up," his fingers made contact with the wooden table, your eyes following the way his fingers neared you.

"I don't mind. I'm flattered, really.", his hand was mere inches from your face, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, "but do you know what I do mind?"

You were completely at his mercy, unable to protest nor look him in the eye. "N-no sir, I don't."

His movements stopped, hand softly taking hold of your chin, making your eyes meet his tempting ones. His gaze flickered between your eyes and mouth, unable to find rest in just one feature.

"Being rock hard during lessons because of your dirty little antics."

Your breath hitched in your throat, eyes slowly lowering to look at his pants, the imprint of his aching length visible through the fabric.

As he noticed where your eyes were fixated on, his hand slid down to the back of your neck, thumb sensually brushing it. "Be a good girl and help me out, yeah?"

You nodded and complied, hands making quick work to undo the belt on his pants, placing yourself on your knees before him while looking up at him with those eyes of yours.

Fuck, he was about to lose it. If you would continue looking at him like that, he would take you right there and then on this table. Your professor's mouth was slightly agape as you undid the last piece of his clothing, cock springing free.

You were quick to open your mouth and close it around his leaking tip. The feral growl he let out made you clench your thighs together, eager to hear more of him.

Your tongue flicked over his sensitive tip, causing the man above you to slightly hiss at your action. "Quit the teasing naughty girl. We don't got that much time."

His reminder caused you to speed up the bopping of your head, hand stroking what your mouth couldn't take in any more. His tip repeatedly hit the back of your throat, causing low moans to erupt from his lungs and you to choke around his length.

He soon was growing impatient, hand taking a firm hold of your hair, nails scraping your scalp. Your professor moved your head to a speed of his liking, throwing his head back as he steadied himself on the desk with his other hand.

And as he looked down at your form, tears welling at your eyes and brows frowning in concentration, he was about to burst right then and there. "Shit, you never look so concentrated in my lessons. What a dirty little slut."

Your mind was filled with pleasure, desperate for the man above you. You tore your mouth from his length, looking up at him with a desperate look on your face. "For you. Only for you professor. Please, I need you in me. Now."

Fuck. You'll be the death of him. His breathing was ragged, taking a glance at the clock while his chest heaved up and down from your actions. Only 25 more minutes before his new class came in. The both of you would need to be quick, or he would lose his job and you, your scholarship if anyone were to walk in on you both in such a scandalous act.

His eyes returned to your face, motioning you to get up to your feet. "We need to be quick alright?" You nodded quickly, understanding his intentions as you jumped onto his desk, quick to spread your legs.

He stood right between them, admiring your state for a second. Hair out of place and face completely drenched in utter desire- for him. Oh how long he had longed to have you like this. He could finally touch those thighs he always gawked at, the panties he only always caught a glips off now fully laid on display for him.

His hand was quick to lift your thigh, his still hard tip coming in contact with your aching clit in the process, causing you to let out a desperate mewl.

He cursed under his breath at the feeling, hand squeezing your thigh lightly.

He knew that he shouldn't do this-hell, the both of you knew. But this was what the both of you longed for for so so long. And now that you and he were able to give into your sinful thoughts and make them a reality, you couldn't find the strength to think about right and wrong.

His eyes were fixated between your legs, wet puddle on your panties, the outline of your glistening pussy visible through the thin fabric.

"Sir." your voice made him look up at you, eyes hanging low in pleasure. "Please." That was all it took him to slide your panties to the side, taking in the view of your aching heat, motioning his tip through your folds.

You bit your lip at the feeling, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you threw your head back at the feeling of his cock against your desperate cunt.

"Oh fuck.", he muttered, eyes closed as he pushed his cock into your warm heat, walls wrapping tightly around him as he bottomed out. "So fucking tight. Should've done this- fuck! earlier."

His hips began to move at a steady pace, his hand tightly gripping your thigh while his other hand was occupied with the bottom of your blouse, tearing it down before foundling your breasts.

You failed at the attempt of hiding your moans of pleasure, loud whines, and mewls filling the classroom alongside the slapping of skin.

"So good! s' so good!" you were a mess. Hair disheveled and face a complete filth sight: drool escaping the sides of your mouth while your tongue threatened to hang out of your mouth.

„Good, huh? Who‘s making this filthy pussy feel good?“ the man above you questioned, still hitting every spot imaginable inside of you, walls molding around his cock. The hand on your thigh placed a stinging slap on it, causing you to yelp in its grasp.

„You sir. Only you.“ Your legs began to betray you, turning into jelly as your trembling body reached its limit. Your orgasm hit you in an intense wave, causing you to bite into your hand in an attempt to muffle your loud moans. „Fuckfuckfuck!“

The relentless pounding of the dark-haired male soon began to flatter, him also nearing his orgasm with every clench of your tight and desperate cunt, longing to milk him dry. „I‘m gonna cum inside you yeah pretty? Make a mess in you, stuff you full.

You whined in response, overstimulated cunt grabbing his throbbing cock like a vice. „Yes sir! Please fill me up. ‚Want it so bad!“ That was all it took, your whiny voice, desperate look, and the hold you had around his neck, mere inches apart from his lips as you desperately rutted your hips into his. „Fuck.“

His head flew into your neck, biting down onto it, not too hard, but intense enough for you to hiss at the feeling. His movements halted and you felt his hot fluid paint your walls, a satisfying sigh escaping from the both of you.

He stayed like that for a brief minute, the both of you coming down from your intense orgasms. Your grip on his shoulders eased, and heavy breathing soon calmed down.

You felt his hot breath against your neck, a tingling sensation rushing through your body at the feeling. He lifted his head, eyes landing on the clock behind you as he cursed under his breath, emptiness filling your body as he slid out of you, some of his cum decorating your folds in a glistening white color.

He retreated into his pants, clearing his throat in an attempt to catch your attention. „Fix up pretty girl. Or do you want your classmates to see you like this?“ You jumped to your feet in fear at his words, quickly wiggling yourself back into your panties and speeding up your movements as you heard the sound of the bell, signaling the next lesson incoming.

The sound of people approaching and chattering filled your ears, looking at your professor in hectic as you adjusted your skirt and hair. He only lazily smirked at you, straightening the wrinkles of his shirt. „You got lessons too, right? You better hurry, don‘t wanna come in late right?“

You were shocked by his smirk and unbothered statement, pursing your lips together as you grabbed your stuff, ready to leave the room. The first students already came in, barely acknowledging you- to your luck.

„Miss Y/N.“ The sound of your name made you turn on your heels, looking at the man behind you. His gaze was fixated on your blouse, a light bite mark from his previous actions still visible. Your eyes wandered to where his eyes where pupils widening in realization as you quickly bottomed up your blouse to hide the mark he left on your delicate skin.

„We should discuss your current grade later. Please meet me after your last lesson. I think there‘s a need for an adjustment.“

#my work 𓆩⟡𓆪 #aki smut #csm smut #aki hayakawa smut #chainsaw man smut #aki hayakawa #csm imagine #aki chainsaw man #hes so babygirl #hot babygirl #aki x you #hayakawa aki #aki hayawaka #csm fanfic #x reader

296 notes · View notes

kris-mage-fics · 10 months ago

Note

The Reach

HEHEHHHEHHEEH 🗣️🗣️

for finish your fics friday I'm putting this under the cut since there are minor spoilers for Chapter 4 of the alpha build of Shepherds of Haven. It's a lot more than five sentences, yet not even everything I wrote yesterday and today! Kyrahlise has crush on Blade in this one, but that won't stop her from doing or saying what she wants.

The slight nod she got in response was more than she was expecting. Unlike the faint frown when Blade glanced at the open window. “The angle of the sun cast a glare on the window, which means I can’t see the colors of the mountains accurately.” Kyrahlise wasn’t going to apologize for opening the window. Not when the chances of the sun being out again were rather slim. At least she’d been able to block in the shapes of the mountains when she was on the roof. So the change in angle wasn’t too much of a hindrance. “It’s well below freezing.” A different glare than before was levied at her. “I’m not going to get frostbite or die because of the window being open. And in case you forgot, I’ve managed to escape either of those fates for the past 16 years. Despite having no one hovering over me to fuss about it.” She thought the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. “You are still quite stubborn.” He’d said much the same when she told him to stop beating himself up about not being with her in the caves. A slow smirk spread across Kyrahlise’s face. “You'll just have to get used to it, because that won't change."

Set after the main events of Chapter 4, Kyrah is just trying to paint the mountains on the one day the sun finally shows it's face. Of course Blade did his mother hen thing about her sitting on the roof while drawing. She comes down to mollify him, but she isn't going to give up finishing her painting while the light is just right, lol! In my mind it's Chapters 3 and 4 where she starts to get rather confused by his behavior towards her. Between her confusion and how protective Blade gets, she starts to get frustrated with him. This won't be the only time she low-key tells him off for it. I have this headcanon that he actually likes the fact she will stand up to him and disagree with him. (Though I don't know how much of a headcanon it is, because I think there is a lot of textual evidence for it.) To me, he sees it as a sign she isn't afraid of him, and trusts and respects him enough to be honest.

#tbh I kinda love writing Blade and Kyrahlise before they are a couple because I enjoy giving Blade a hard time #and he's just so ridiculous when he's falling in love it makes me laugh #istg Lena purposefully made Blade fun to bully lol #Kyrah is nice but by the time she joins the Shepherds she's gotten pretty good at not letting people push her around #so she has no qualms about standing up to Blade when she thinks he's going too far #finish your fics friday #ask game #shepherds of haven #shoh #oc: kyrahlise niriviel #blade bronwyn

24 notes · View notes

slimeology · 1 year ago

Text

finally a time to create! today i put Charleston into another world, this time of cassette beasts because the game rocks and i had to.

I made a image of him in my best attempt of the style in the game as well! I will ramble of him below with an extra image.

I have been thinking on how his story would work in the context of the game. First thing is that he is no replacement of the main character, he is simply also there and had the misfortune of ending up in the marshes when he first appeared.

He likely appears somewhat after the player, not entirely sure what to do with himself as he's a scientist but lacks any and all equipment and generally struggles with his own use, let alone in another world. He's not very built for survival in the wilderness.

Generally I suppose he would somewhat be like a partner character though i go between him just being out there and such an idea. Either way he's support focused, as he doesn't believe in violence solving things, though between animals and such he understands, he prefers not to.

I doodled him as what would very likely be what he uses! or well one version, as it would start as a jumpkin.

Maybe it wouldn't just be a regular jumpkin, I do not know! A bootleg version would fit him as it isn't typical and coming from a different world he doesn't know what a pumpkin actually looks like. [he does not come from earth! earth is out there but he is not on it.]

Anyways, anyways, as many somewhat important characters have, his theoretical story line would end with an Archangel fight. Maybe I will try to recreate my idea but it would take some concepts and look from my own world, while playing by the rules of the game.

It would be the incarnation of something relating to isolation, perhaps just isolation itself. Charleston in his own story is very very isolated, and coming to a new world is even more so.

The Archangel would be ancient in lifespan, with humanity being a social species the idea would've existed for ages, but it's form is long since broken up and weakened. I see it only appearing pretty late, considering I have in mind it takes one of the Landkeepers as they are vessels already and in their existence are very isolated, especially if they were human once.

It does not fit inside the vessel though, so it has burst forth. Similar to some kind of parasite perhaps, as isolation can consume the mind if left long enough. I guess the look would be a mishmash of the pixel art and something else, to look more alien and seperate from the game world.

I realise at this point my words have stopped being about Charleston whoops- the ideas have just been in my brain! I hope to when I get a chance i can draw more from the game yes!

He is silly in my mind at least, likely taking time to study the rogue fusions after a while to do something, though at some point he would help with making jellyton fertiliser functional [basically not poison, which i assume would limit it especially as it makes the jumpkins , i think??] to aid the community.

I hope one day I may get him a green jellyton as that would fit him greatly, but the chances are slim since I have ended up with moth and allseer collection instead-

If you have read all this, i do not know why but have a good day despite it! I will make more content for cassette beasts when I get a chance! hopefully anyways, there is so little out there it is making me want to try my hand at writing again. I must assist in making more! it deserves some recognition for sure :]

#cassette beasts #oc #oc art #goopy art :]#art #artwork #draculeaf #<- he is in there i swear!!#charleston but more!#he is getting his own tag at this point i have posted two whole AU of him geez

40 notes · View notes

billthedrake · 2 years ago

Text

BIG DADDY (PART NINE)

Mark came over that weekend to help me clean the gutters. At least that was the pretext. Of course he came over to fuck his daughter.

It wasn't every time we all three ended up in my bed, or even close. But it was happening more and that day Mark and I kissed and made out with Cheryl side by side, each taking duty on one of her tits, sucking and licking before we made our way down. It was like a playful competition, taking turns, seeing who could give my wife the most pleasure by eating her pussy. Big Daddy had the advantage of being her father, and every bit of taboo thrill with that. I had the advantage of being better at eating cunt. We'll call it a draw.

I continued to eat her out while Mark knelt up and offered his thick paternal cock. I heard her moan as she took him into her mouth. The combo drove her wild and pretty soon my tongue was giving her a major orgasm. I gave another swipe of my tongue along her trimmed pussy lips and leaned. I could have taken her there, but I wanted some of what Big Daddy was getting.

Mark smirked as I made my way to kneel beside him, clearly offering my hardon for service. "You want some, Brennan?" he teased.

I nodded. "Fuck yes," and like that I watched Mark's thick fingers curl in Cheryl's long soft hair and nudge her off his cock, caressing her locks a couple of seconds as they made eye contact. God, their connection was fucked up, but so hot to watch. I imagined my wife doing this for all these years.

Then she turned to me. "Horny, Nick?"

"You know it, babe," I growled in a tone that suggested I was more keyed up than I was letting on. Particularly as I felt Mark's free hand on the small of my back. Bryant was a touchy-feely man, and the physical contact sent jolts of electricity to my prick, especially once Cherly started going down on me.

Cheryl was in bona fide heat. Daddy and I passed her back and forth between us, keeping eye contact mostly on her porn-slut blowjobs but also connecting man to man in the process.

Finally, Mark pulled her off his bone gently. "Daddy's gotta be inside ya, baby doll."

Cheryl almost pounced up to meet him in a kiss, her fingernails pressing against her father's hard plate-like pecs.

"I take it that's a yes, Princess?" Mark chuckled lewdly.

"Hmm hm, yes, Daddy," my wife cooed in his embrace. His hand was no longer on my back but hers, working over the round curve of her ass. Cheryl had always had a smoking hot body, but the post-pregnancy weight filled her out in all the best ways. I didn't have to ask Mark Bryant if he agreed. His grabby hands told the answer.

They kissed, Frenching open mouthed as Mark pulled her more petite body back onto his burly build. I realized that I'd normally witnessed Mark fucking missionary or doggie, but this was an exciting change of pace to see Cheryl grind her privates against the big man' crotch as they made out. Then Mark grip his daughter's slim waist to pull her up and line that pussy up with his massive tool.

My prick spurted out a heavy dose of precum at that first penetration. Their private father-daughter ritual that I was privy to now. They fucked slow but deep, Cheryl pivoting her hips to sink further on Mark's prick with each stroke.

She now sat up fully, feeling the depth of penetration as Mark's hands gripped Cheryl's full boobies, which had swollen lately. It was all amazing to watch, even the way Cheryl's body pressed some against her dad's beer belly, which had grown some lately too. I was almost content to sit back and watch the incest mating in action.

Almost, but not quite.

I grabbed some lube from the bedside table, and started slathering a lot on. Now that Cheryl was back in her nympho phase, she had been letting me sodomize her more lately. ANd as worked up as Big Daddy was getting her, I realized I was gonna get a bucket list chance now.

I positioned myself behind her, between Mark's thick legs, and reached into the cleft of her ass.

"Oh yes, Baby..." Cheryl gasped as my finger touched her rosebud and began lubing up. Gently probing her ring.

It took Mark a little longer to realize what was going on but I heard his loud growl. "You coming in, too, Brennan?"

I didn't answer him in words. Instead I lined up my rock hard prick and pushed.

It took a little work, but not much. I held Cheryl still for the penetration as Daddy watched and growled his encouragement.

"Take Nick's cock, Baby Doll," he cooed as he stroked his daughter's hair and gave her a soft, tongue heavy kiss. I wanted to hold off cumming, so I concentrated on thinking about work stuff for a bit, till I felt a more normal fuck pace.

That is, until Big Daddy scooted beneath pile drove that fat, heavy cock up into her cunt.

"Yes!" my wife cried. It was her first time taking two dicks at once, and I realized it was my first time with this experience. Fucking Cheryl from behind while Mark did her from the front. It was incredibly hot, but the thing that got me to cum was Mark's strong hands. No longer feeling up his daughter's tits, they were on my arms now, them my hips, feeling my muscle. Feeling me up.

I nutted hard, and I heard both Mark and Cheryl cum in rapid succession. It was wild.

We were messy and sweaty when we finally parted. I showered off and left them in bed for some one-on-one time. I mean, someone had to clean the goddamn gutters.

Still, as I slipped on my briefs, I couldn't help but see Big Daddy's eyes on my fat softening dong.

****

A lot can change in four years.

In the words of my buddy Kevin, I was "all Texas and shit." Turns out he was too, now, or at least on his way.

Mark Bryant was still the titular head of RC Pool Supply, but in every meaningful way I was running the business day to day, while Mark was taking a soft landing into his early retirement.

I started taking Cheryl and Iris to the Jersey Shore for two weeks in the summer. Just us. I needed a break from the Bryant family sometimes.

My bond with Dan Bryant became less of an open secret. I'd go over frequently to Dan's after work and we'd go to the guest room to fuck and just spend some brother-to-brother time, alone and naked together. Courtney knew what was up, and she now knew Dan needed it. My dick - but my love, too. Dan made sure to be the stand up husband to Court in every other way.

And yeah, I may have fucked Courtney on the side, from time to time.

And while I still would suck Big Daddy, it was less an act of asserting his authority and now something else.

Like this weekend. Another guy's weekend, this time at a golf resort out west. Dan couldn't make it, so it was just me and Mark, which was good. It let me have some father-in-law time and for us men to talk business. Mark Bryant was all about mixing business with pleasure. I guess I was, too.

That first night I fucking made love to that big giant dong. I had no shame in doing so, it was hot. Taking that meaty thickness into my mouth and letting my throat relax to just go for it. Mark loved the contrast between the way I did it and Cheryl, or Dan, or the secretary sluts he banged. It took him no longer than two minutes of my excited head for the big man to growl and fire off with a heavy load. He kept it hard and I slowly sucked him a second time. The gruff dude was almost romantic as I worshipped his cock, stroking my hair and saying he was glad to have such a hot son in law. By the time I finally stroked off, it was an intense load.

The next day was an afternoon round of golf. I played great, and Mark grumbled at each lousy shot he made. "If I wanted a good golf player, I would have brought Dan instead," he teased. Dan Bryant was only good at two things in life: taking cock and playing golf. But that meant he was really fucking good at both. OK, begrudgingly, I'll say my brother-in-law is a good salesman, too.

Mark and I were in a better mood after dinner and a couple of drinks. We had a cabin-like suite at the resort and the weather was nice, warm but dry. Big Daddy had something on his mind, I knew.

"What's your price, Brennan?" he finally asked as we sipped some top-shelf boubon.

"Price for what?" I asked.

He looked me in the eye. "Your ass. How much would I have to pay you to fuck that lacrosse jock ass of yours?" He was a little tipsy but I could tell he'd been thinking about this. I didn't know how much of it was a power trip and how much was really wanting to nail me. I knew it was some of both.

"What makes you think I'd let you?" I replied. I wasn't pissed off, more intrigued. Still, I'd never taken dick, not that way, and I wasn't about to start.

Big Daddy seemed unfazed. He leaned back, his girthy meaty body looking more imposing in its stance. "Like I say, every man has his price."

I leaned back myself, in a classic manspread position. I was actually chubbing up. Something about this power play had me going. "How bout this, Mark? You write down what you're offering, and I'll write down what I'd be willing to accept. And we can see how close they are."

That got a wide grin out of the big man. He stood up and strutted over to find a notepad and pen at the hotel room desk. I could see he was throwing hard, at least half hard, that big dong looking formidable in his golf shorts.

He ripped out a piece of paper and handed it to me. "Don't play hardball, Brennan," he smirked. He quickly wrote down a number and handed me the pen as he folded the paper. "This is a damn good offer," he said proudly as he placed the folded paper on the table.

I quickly wrote down on mine and we switched. I opened his first. He'd written down a large figure. Mid five digits.

I think he thought I'd be impressed. Or shocked. Or something. Instead I nodded to him to open my folded paper. I knew what he was reading: "I fuck your ass - first."

"Jesus," he growled, looking up at me. "What the fuck?"

"You said every man has his price," I explained. "That includes you, Daddy."

"You like being a wise ass?" he asked me, his eyes twinkling some. He'd put on even a little more girth the last year or so, and for some reason I found that attractive.

I spread my legs a little more. "I just don't like being taken for granted," I replied.

We stared at each other. It felt like an eternity but was probably just a half minute. "Fuck," Mark growled. "My princess picked out a hard bargainer, all right."

I felt a vibe between us. It was the last thing I'd ever expect to happen with Mark Bryant, but maybe it was gonna. "We actually doing this Big Daddy?"

He gulped. "Counter proposal... I go first."

I shook my head. "Un unh," I said. "My terms, Daddy." Somehow it felt perverse to call him Daddy now.

"You're really insisting ongoing first, Brennan?"

The man had a lot of pride on the line. I wasn't gonna let him keep it. "Sure as fuck am." I said. "I fuck you tonight. You fuck me tomorrow. Same positions."

He blushed red. I think the alcohol was helping him even consider this. "Damn, I want in your ass so bad, stud... you know that, right?"

I grinned. "Yep. I do." I stood up, my boner evident in my shorts. "Come on, Big Daddy. Let's do this... you may actually even enjoy it."

He stood up. For all of his anxiety, his fat cock was more than chubbed up, too. It was rock hard. He took one more swig of his drink and set it down.

The sexual tension was ratcheting up quick as we went back to his bedroom. I stopped to get some lube from my bag and when I joined Big Daddy he was already kicking off his shoes and stood bare chested, his beefy body on full display. I followed suit quickly in stripping down, which seemed to thrill Mark.

"You have a way of messing with my head, Brennan," he growled as he finally stripped naked and got in bed. I was two seconds behind him, my hands greedily reaching out to feel up that older father-in-law bulk.

"You've always gotten into mine Big Daddy," I hissed.

Our lips met. We'd kissed while double-teaming Cheryl. But Cheryl wasn't there now. It was just me and my dad-in-law, making out. Yeah, this was a power play, but it just fueled our lust and attraction. Big Daddy was pawing at my leaner body now, just as eagerly as I was gripping his.

"My baby girl picked out a winner," the man hissed, reaching down to cup my hardon. "Just don't treat my like one of your side bitches," he growled. Maybe he had his son Dan in mind.

"That wasn't part of the agreement," I joked.

Mark laughed. "Just remember you're getting payback tomorrow."

"I know, Mark," I grinned. "You nervous?" I asked after a minute.

The man nodded. "I'm not scared of much in life... but this, yeah..." As crazy as the idea of Big Daddy letting me fuck him was, the fact he was being so emotionally direct and open was a mind fuck of its own.

I patted his meaty ass. The one I'd admired and lusted after when I watched him fuck my wife. "I'll break you in easy, sir," I smiled. "On your belly, Big Daddy."

He winced in fear but did as instructed.

Goddamn, that ass was full. Some padding but lots of brawn, too. I gripped the round cheeks and pulled them apart, diving face in. I'd gotten into rimming Randy Slocum and Dan, but Mark Bryant's ass was even more munch-worthy. I licked and rooted around and played with his pucker with my tongue. Big Daddy fucking loved it, hiking his ass back to my face.

"Fuck yeah, Brennan," he hissed. "Eat me out."

I did, too. I wanted to take my time enjoying what was probably be a one-time shot. And I was 100% sure Mark Bryant was cherry. I'd take my time working him open.

Eventually I pulled back, lubed my fingers and started working him open that way. It was less immediately pleasurable to Mark, but pretty soon I had three fingers twisting in and out of that dad hole, deep. And I'll be damned if Mark wasn't hiking back against my thrusting hand.

The penetration went easier than I expected. Mark freaked out a little once my dick breached his ring, but that was a mental thing, and as I kissed along his thick neck, he relaxed back into me. It's a real fucking turn on to have a dude as big as that relax back into you, I'll tell ya. He wasn't gonna say it, but Mark Bryant was enjoying having my cock inside him.

He even enjoyed it when I started thrusting into him. Soft, steady thrusts. His body face down, I made love to his whole body, feeling him kissing his shoulder, fucking deeply into him.

I may have even told him I loved him, right before my body seized up and I had the hardest orgasm of my life. Several inches inside my father in law.

I took a second to relax and recover than I rolled off him, patting him softly and affectionately on the ass. I leaned up just a little and held up my still-rigid prick. "Your turn to come, Mark. Why don't you sit on my cock while you do?"

I was definitely pushing it, and I expected him to growl at me. Instead he had a quiet, needy expressing as he knelt up on the mattress, his own meaty prick hard and leaking. I could read it all in his face. Sexual excitement, embarrassment for having liked it too much, and the urgent need to get off. He eyed up my cum-slick dick.

"Yeah," he barked and scooted his big body over to straddle me. The man was girthy all right, and felt even more so as he settled on my lap, his belly brushing against my hard on before he moved up and reached back to guide me back into him. He hesitated.

"It's just you and me, Big Daddy. No one else," I assured him.

That's what he needed to hear to le himself go. He eased back onto me, and the entry was easy now. Mark was doing the driving now, using his weight and strength to ride my meat and stimulate his insides how he wanted it.

"Goddamn, Brennan, you got a cock on ya," he hissed as he bounced heavily up and down on me and flogged his cock. Cum spurted out of that big dong a couple of seconds before the full orgasm hit. Then it was a throaty growl and some wild bucking that nearly snapped my dick off. Big Daddy was having his first p-spot orgasm, and I was getting drenched. I watched him cum, then he reached down and used his grip on my neck to pull himself down and met up to a hot, heavy kiss. I humped excitedly, determined to get a second nut before Mark's was done. I succeeded.

We actually didn't talk after we uncoupled, but we cleaned off and made out, softly, until Mark's eyes grew heavy with the need for sleep. I started to get up and go back to my bed, but his arm reached out and gripped my forearm.

"You don't gotta go, Brennan." came his words. I nodded and eased back into Mark's bed.

***

Payback is a bitch.

Mark Bryant has a massive cock. He tried going easy, copying my own foreplay from the night before. But it stung going in, and stung getting reamed out by that monster. Still, a bet was a bet, so I clung to the bedsheets and took it. Getting my virginity fucked away by the biggest, fattest cock I could imagine, and feeling the heaviness of his body on top of my back, thrusting away. At least if I ever did this again, I'd know I'd gone full out.

The whole time Mark was telling me how much he'd looked forward to taking Big Brennan down a notch.

But a minute and a half into the ordeal, he stopped and climbed off me. I was surprised, because usually once Mark got into a fuck it never took him long to nut. I felt that slick dong slide across my ass and hip, and my ass felt like a freight train had driven through it.

The mattress sank as Big Daddy lay next to me, that massive cock still bone hard and sticking up an inch from his beer belly.

"What?" I asked, wondering what was up, or if anything was wrong.

Mark looked at me with his normal "Boss" look. "We said same positions, right?" he asked.

It sunk in. Mark wanted me to ride his cock. And more than than he wanted me to enjoy this.

I'd try. At least my ring was still loose and opened up as I straddled the big man and felt that fat lubed tool nudge back in place. Mark's cock felt scary and thrilling at the same time.

"Take your time, Brennan," the man said softly. His hands openly caressing my gym-toned thighs.

I nodded and sat back in place on him. The reentry felt full. Fuller than full. Mark Bryant was hunk like a motherfucker. But this position worked better. I could control the pace and now that he'd already reamed me from behind the switch made this feel better. I mean, it was still a challenge, but I started riding the big man slowly.

"Nice, Nick," Mark hissed, really getting into the softer vibe between us. "Ride my cock, buddy."

I did, working my ass up to take more of his pole, feeling a wild range of emotions.

Mark timed it perfectly, knowing when my insides were unclenching enough to thrust up to match my own motion.

"Oh fuck!" I hissed.

"Too much?" he asked.

I shook my head. Still in a-bets-a-bet mode. But feeling something else. "No," I answered, feeling Mark's massive dong thrust faster. "Feel good?"

"You have no fucking idea," he growled, his hips getting more urgent and his hands now running along my front, appreciating the way my tight abs and ripped body contrast to his own bulkier build.

We mated silently for a minute, then Mark spoke up again. "You know, I wish you'd been my son Nick."

It was a gut punch of a thing to say, but it fed my sexual pleasure. "I know, Daddy," I hissed back. Goddamnit, his confession was gonna get me to cum. I saw a playful leer on his face as he watched me enter orgasm, my hips having a life of their own to bounce on his dong and my fist a blur on my erection. It was a scattershot of an ejaculation, spraying all over Big Daddy's hairy body.

"Fuck yes, Nick," Mark growled and with a couple urgent thrusts of his own, I knew he was seeding me good.

I rode it out, my orgasm, and his, and felt guilty, like I'd betrayed Dan. I knew Mark had fucked me as an equal and his son would never have that.

Mark and I didn't talk about it, though. We didn't talk about much of anything until after we'd showered and dressed. And as we packed to head to catch our flight, it was normal talk about golf and R.C. Pool Supply, and if Mark's retirement meant he'd no longer have a pool of secretaries to fuck.

***

Mark and I had taken separate cars to the airport, and now I was on my way home. Sure, maybe I was speeding, but I got annoyed when I saw the cop car lights behind me. "Fuck me," I grunted, dutifully pulling over.

I expected a gentle talking to and being let off with a warning. For all intents and purposes, I was a Bryant, and the Bryants owned this town.

Indeed, I couldn't have imagined a more deferential tone in the police officer's voice as he looked in my rolled down window as he stood beside the car, 6 foot even in his uniform shoes.

"Sorry to bother you, Mr. Brennan," the man started off with an apology. He was early 40s and hot as fuck. Weathered skin, sea blue eyes, just the right amount of muscle under that poly blue material. "If you could do me a favor, could you slow it down some?"

"I can probably do that, Officer," I replied. I took another look at the man. I'd become a convert of Texas beef, but maye I was developing an appreciation when that beef was aged a little. I spoke before I thought. ".And maybe you can do me a favor." OK, my dick brain was doing the thinking now.

"What kind of favor?" the officer asked nervously. I could tell he got a sense of where this was going.

"You take it up the ass, Officer?" I asked with my best poker face. Not working up to the main event, like with Slocum. Just going right for the jugular.

He gulped and I could see those blue eyes "Not in a long time, Mr. Brennan," he almost whispered. Scared as hell.

"It's like riding a bike, Officer," I smiled. "And I know what I'm not doing... come on, man... I'm sure you know a private place we can go."

Those sea blue eyes met mine. Almost pleading for a way out. I stared back, unblinking.

Officer Friendly let out the breath he'd been holding in. He took a nervous darting look around, then turned back to me. "My partner's back in the cruiser," he grunted softly, but with that same apologetic tone.

Holy shit. I looked back and there was a rookie-looking dude in the passenger seat of the cop car. Slocum hot, and probably not six months from his time on the gridiron. But I was getting into the middle-aged cop even more. "What time you get off, Officer...?" I asked turning back.

"Officer Mitchell. Five o'clock, sir," he replied deferentially.

"Live alone?" I asked. I didn't see a wedding band.

"Yessir, Mr. Brennan. Divorced last year." That Texas accent coming thicker.

"Sorry to hear Officer Mitchell," I said with half-real sympathy.

The cop shrugged. God he was the strong silent type but had a certain vulnerability to him that gave me a bone. "It is what it is, Mr. Brennan." He then pulled out a pad and wrote his address on the paper and tore it off to hand to me.

His hand was actually shaking. "Please go easy on me, Mr. Brennan, sir."

"I will Officer," I grinned, stuffing the address in my shirt pocket.

Mitchell gave me one last look, like he wanted to suck my cock then and there. He ran his fingers along my car door where the window was rolled down. "All right... stay safe, sir.. and slow it down if you can."

"You bet," I nodded, feeling horny as fuck. Good thing 5 o'clock was only a couple hours away.

I watched Officer Mitchell strut back to the cruiser as I started up the car and set it in drive. I sped off.

In the words of my buddy Kevin, I was all Texas and shit, and I couldn't be happier.

END

#drakestories

91 notes · View notes

chelzone · 3 months ago

Text

Assorted Thoughts - My Webcomic

if u haven't gotten a chance yet, please check out my webcomic ..Just Another Day!. there's 120 pages currently (as of writing this post on August 31, 2024), and its draw in a line-focused style with lots of neon colors and a sort of abstract-minimalist-adjacent look. in a simple sense, the webcomic is a slice-of-life and paranormal flavored experience for a handful of furry folkz of diff genduhs and sexualities in the fictional country of Corter. in a wider-scope, its also a simulated life experience managed by an android named Odell Scout. on the main website linked at the start of this paragraph, the reader is given commentary by Scout at the bottom of the page (the Operator's Notes section)

anyway, ive some thoughts i wanna ramble on about this webcomic so far. might have spoilers might not, so hiding it all under a read more incase.

Its Roots

A drawn page from 2018, from the now-expunged former webcomic of mine - COMIKZONE.

see that ancient comic page above? for starters, that's the precursor to ..Just Another Day! basically, a loose page from an old comic series i attempted between 2018 an 2019 called COMIKZONE. it was probably my first legit attempt at a webcomic of any kind, and is pretty rough technically in comparison to its more-proper successor these days. i got through making at least 20 pages over the span of a year or so, each one just being a spur of the moment thing made purely for fun and with no connected story in mind for itself and its sibling pages before and after. a lot of its looks where made from me taking photographs in chicago, cropping out small chunks of said photos, and then editing them to make textures of sorts for the characters and environments. theres a slim chance an archive of COMIKZONE is out there online on some random upload site, but these days i only have it saved locally and do not wish to repost it back online in full.*

basically, this would later inspire me to create ..Just Another Day! on July 24, 2023 and continuing updating it since then. it took the improvised and spur-of-the-moment feeling of COMIKZONE, attached to it a proper story both for the characters within and the meta shit outside it, and used that character seen above as a prototype design for my current webcomic's character Ede Matches. funny enough, this would be the second time i refolded that one-off design from COMIKZONE for one of my present-day OCs - as it also served as the prototype design for my characters Jason Millveille and his 'father' Prof. Roger Clements.

The Protagonist(s)

Proper full drawing made of the webcomic characters Ede and Rosa respectively. Their colors here are canon for how they look outside of the webcomic's intentional limitations.

when i began work on ..Just Another Day! back in July 2023, i originally had the idea that the proper protagonists would just be lovers Ede Matches and Rosa Lithium for the whole thing. but really, it can't truly be like that if i want this experience to feel alive while also just being about whatever. in the 120 pages drawn so far, the role of the protagonist has jumped back and forth a lot depending on the situation.

in my mind, everyone plays a part in this whole thing - i can't just say Ede and Rosa handle it alone. everyone's got their struggles, everyone's pushing the story ahead, and everyone's influencing each other. in one sense, i like to look towards real life where there is no protagonist of this world we all share together - for better or worse. in another sense, i like to look towards something like Seinfeld where the protagonist can shift depending on who's manning the A plot and B plot respectively from episode to episode. that show also is an inspiration, what with its 'show about nothing' concept. there's still a lot of time ahead to give certain characters the spotlight for awhile, an see where it takes us.

The End (What is..? When is..? Etc.)

Drawing I made back in August 2022 of my character Odell Scout - the creator and narrator of the simulated project.

it has to be stressed that the story of ..Just Another Day! is genuinely handled a few pages at a time. right now as I type this, i have in mind what'll follow for maybe the next 5 to 10 pages at most, but not what will carry on after them. the ending? sure, there's been a handful of ideas in mind, but nothing is set in stone aside from how the presentation of its finale someday will be drawn. this isn't just a case of "oh i didnt plan ahead" but rather "its done when i can find peace with it, and then properly wrap it up without feel like its being dragged on forever like the Simpsons".

within the characters' lives, i want to hit a point where i've showcases enough shapshots of their lives and given them enough of a meaty story to make it feel like you - the reader - had enough time to enjoy getting a look at chunks of their lives. for the outside story, that is, the simulation aspect of it, i want to stretch it until the point that Odell Scout feels like his project was a roaring success and can be put to rest properly. his satisfaction is felt thru me in turn, and his project in-universe must end someday for he'll have to move onto other scientific adventures (i too must finish it someday and move onto other projects). for now, enjoy what's going on right now and know someday it will have a definite end with no sequels nor reboots to follow.

will another webcomic follow in its footsteps? at the moment, im leaning towards no personally. but never say never, right? in the meantime, thanks for reading and make sure to keep checking the main site for any new page updates. current schedule is 2-3 pages put up per week usually, with rare off-days if needed for my health.

4 notes · View notes

enderpearlgirl1005 · 1 year ago

Text

The Artists Game

Chapter 1 Notebooks

A girl was sitting in art class waiting for the end of it so she could head home to try and spend some time with her mom before she left for a important business trip. Aika, like many people living in Japan, enjoyed art and watching TV with her mother. However, she didn't like to converse much with other students leaving her to ultimately sitting in the back of her classes. Her attempt to use her hair to cover her face on the left side so people didn't notice her was a fail. While listening to the teachers lecture before the bell rang for summer vacation a certain someone started talking to her.

"Hey Aika!" A boy yelled, making her look up from her note book.

"What is it, Haru?" Aika asked looking at the boy who called her.

"You're free tonight right? I got a new game and I thought we could have a good time." Haru suggested.

"Sorry, but I can't, my mom is going away on a business trip and her rules are to not go to anyone's house while she's gone," Aika explained with a frown.

It seemed like no matter how hard she tried not to be noticed, Haru's attention seemed to always fall on her. She'd rather it not be like that, trust issues is a little thing she picked up after past events when she was young. It kind of started to seem like Haru only talked to her because he was also a bit of a loner. Not that she was (At least she wouldn't admit it out loud).

It was obvious he was disheartened, but chose to stay quiet and go back to the teachers boring lesson. The school bell rang, it only took less than a minute for everyone to file out the classroom. Aika knew Haru was hurt from her decline to hang out, but spending time with her mom was more important. Plus it was the only person she truly felt comfortable around.

As the students were leaving, the teacher yelled " Id like to remind you that I'm teaching summer school! Last chance to sign up!"

*Yeah no. I'm not doing that. I have a perfect idea of my summer...spending time with my mom and my drawings* she thought smiling to herself

Once out the classroom, Aika went to her locker to collect her things. It was bluntly interrupted by the throb of her scalp as her hair was yanked on.

" Look who it is, the loner " the familiar voiced called out in a snarky tone.

Aika rolled her her eyes knowing well who it was and really didn't want to deal with her right now.

"Hello Amaya, what do you want?" said Aika

"Oh I just noticed you dyed the ends of your hair to purple, I really don't know why it wont make a difference " Amaya spoke while dragging Aika's hair along her hands.

" Why do you even care Amaya? " Yanking her own hair back behide her, Aika rolled her eyes in annoyance.

" I wouldn't any other day but I have to look at it and I'd hate to ruin my eyes with the sight of your hair. So why don't I do you a favor and fix it! " Quickly grabbing a pair of scissors from her pocket, she yanked Aika's hair to where she almost fell.

Tears peaked at the corner of Aika's eyes as the chances of getting out of this were slim, Amaya would've hit her if it weren't for the very angry male voice calling out to them. Both of them turned to see their principal standing there, presumably glaring at Amaya.

" Amaya. My Office, now " He spoke sternly.

She let go of Aika's hair with a mumble, stroking her hair trying to calm herself. Aika watched them both walk away but not before she caught Amaya's death glare.

(Aika's POV)

My name? Aika. Age? Fourteen years old. I live with my mom, I would say I have friends but I don't. I used to though. Until Amaya got accepted as a cheerleader and decided I wasn't good enough for her....I haven't made another friend since then. My drawings are all the social connection I need. That and my mom.

Besides Amaya, there is only one other person that makes my school experience a nightmare. Hinote. The captain of the football team. His huge ego and determination to get with every girl in the school has made me a constant target. It doesn't help that Amaya also likes him. She thinks I like him as well but that just makes her as dumb as she looks.

" Hey Aika~ " Apart of Aika wished she was invisible or could teleport.

(3rd Person point of view)

Aika turned around and saw Hinote leaning against a locker with a flirty smile on his face.

" What do you want, Hinote " she said turning to him.

"Hmm I want your heart," Hinote said while winking at her.

" I'm sure you do " Sarcasm coating Aika's voice " My answer is still the same, no! " She turned trying to leave.

Hinote grabbed a hold of her arms and whispered in her ear, "Aww you're still playing hard to get I like that in a girl."

Managing to pull out of his grip a lightbulb went off in her mind.

" Hey Hinote, ist that the girl on the swim team? The one with big boobs? I think she's still in her bathing suit. "

Just as he whipped around to look for the girl, Aika made a mad dash for the school exit doors. By the time he turned back around she was gone.

(Outside the school)

Aika, looking through her bag to make sure she didn't leave anything let out a sigh of relief. Walking up to the trash can she dumped all the study packets, the endless sheets of notes and anything else that was now useless.

* Finally, school is over! At least for three months * Aika said to herself.

Putting her bag back on she headed back in the direction of home. After a daunting fifteen minutes of walking she made it to the door unlocking it with her set of keys. Aika made sure to set her shoes with the others slowly making her way to the living room that connected to the kitchen.

Unfortunately the house only held her as Aika's mother was no where to be seen. Knowing her mom left already made her heart throb slightly, but work is work. She'll be back within a week so it didn't hurt that much. Besides, she's been left home before and was trusted with not burning the house down.

That and the low crime rate for her neighborhood, the occasional candy bar stealing or a bag of chip. Giving no more attention to the empty house, Aika locked the door and went to her room to get out of the discomfort of the sweaty clothes she had been wearing all day.

Aika opened the very well loved purple and black painted door entering her room. Switching on the lights she was relaxed seeing the room she would be in for the next three months everyday day. The purple ish black wall adorned skulls and many other things most people would see as Gothic. She didn't really care though.

Aika then took her back pack off and hung it up on a hook attached to the wall before taking her school uniform off and threw it to the ground.

* Ugh, finally out of that thing * Aika said to herself, just relieved to be out of those clothes.

She then went to her dresser that was right next to her bed that was on the right side of the room that was facing outwards. She opened it up and began digging through all her dresses and soon picked a dress that was sleeveless, black on the top, with a black corset in the midsection, the skirt was purple.

She slipped the dress over her head and slipped on, once it was on she grabed the clips that held the dress up and cliped them on the back of her neck. She then pulled out a pair of knee high purple socks that had black bats decorated on them. After she was done changing, Aika opened her backpack and pulled out her note book along with her other drawing utensils and went back down to the living room to draw and watch some TV.

(Several hours later)

Aika was so deep into drawing that once she was done with the previous one, there were no more pages. Glancing at her clock she watched it flash 9:00pm as the sky outside matched it.

* I don't wanna cook...that store has a restaurant in it though, and notebooks. I guess it's worth the trip * She thought to herself while getting up.

Heading downstairs, she walked to the back door after putting on her shoes. A deep black colored the sky, the flashlight that hung from one of the hangers caught her eye. Grabbing the flashlight she made her way to the store.

Looking at the wooden porch and newly cut grass with the painted fence, she smiled at herself. Aika and her mother had did it last week together, it was fun. Aika walked across the yard opening the fence gate making sure to lock it once she passed through it before making the two minute walk across the road to the store.

When she entered the building she looked, curious on how busy it was at this time of night. However no one seemed to really be in the store aside from a couple that was obviously not from Japan...probably American.

* Man, they must be pretty well grounded to come here * She thought

Aika's excitement for a new notebook was cut short when she saw that they were unfortunately out of stock. She groaned in annoyance at her luck, being reduced to having to watch horror movies and anime. To Aika, drawing was her one way to block out and escape her miserable life while her mom wasn't home. Her mom was just- if not more important than drawing to her as both things were a light in her life. The only light.

* This is just fantastic, knowing the system here they won't have a new stock in a week- dammit! * She thought angrily.

" Whatever, I'll get some food and take my butt home " Aika mumbled to herself before going up to the front to scan the menu.

"Oh Hey Aika." A familliar male voice said.

Aika looked at the worker quickly recognizing him from school as they were in the same class, the only student who ever actually talked to her.

" Haru?! You work here now? " She asked surprised.

" Yeah I just started last week, this place is awesome! " He exclaimed happily, Aika could tell he loved his job

"Oh cool, I'd like some takoyaki with no sauce and onigiri grilled with tuna in it to go please." Aika said, placing her order.

"Okay your total is 300 Yen." Haru said.

Aika pulled out her purple wallet with a white skull on it, taking the total out for the order. She handed it to Haru and he placed it in the register before disappearing back into the back. As Aika waited she heard a voice that made her head ache...the last person in the world she wanted to see right after summer started.

" I didn't know the store had you in stock~ " Hinote said seductively.

"Oh my god why are you here?" Aika asked angrily.

"Oh my dad was taking me to see a friend of his and we stopped by to get something. He's in the car because his feet are hurting so it's only me here babe." Hinote explained in a flirty tone.

"Well get your things and go back to your dad, I'm just here to get some food and I don't want to be bothered." Aika explained in an obvious tone that would let anyone know she doesn't want to talk anymore.

"Oh well, why should I go so soon? Since you are here why dont I stay a little longer?" Hinote asked smiling like he just won the ultimate prize.

" You said you were here with your dad? Go back before he drives off without you, it's late and I don't want to be bothered " She spoke. Aika's angry slowly reaching it's breaking point.

Without warning he wrapped his arms around Aika, grabbing onto her chest. Her fast reflexes caused Aika to whip around and landed a punch right to his face. Hinote met the ground with a loud thud.

"DON'T TOUCH ME YOU FREAK!" Aika screamed angrily.

" You get what you deserve. Leave my store, now " A man's voice said calmly with a hint of anger.

The two looked towards the side of the store and saw the manager. He had witnessed everything from Hinote walking in to him assaulting Aika. He knew her mother, they were regulars. Loved by him, he knew well that Aika only acted out of discomfort, reflex, and defense

"B-But she punched me!" Hinote exclaimed.

"Because you grabbed her, so let that be a lesson for when you grab a woman without their permission. Now get what you need here and leave before I make things ugly by calling the police and reporting you for this inappropriate behavior. My store has cameras so it'll surely have what you did on it." The Manager firmly said letting Hinote know that he wasn't welcomed there for much longer.

So Hinote got up, glared at Aika and the manager, before getting the item he needed, paying for it and left the store in a huff.

"Thanks for that." Aika said to the manager.

"Hey it's just my job and I promised your mom that I'd take care of you while she was gone, so if you need anything let me know." The manager said before heading back into his office.

Soon Haru came out with a bag that had Aika's food in it. She then took the bag, thanked Haru and waited in the the store, to allow Hinote to leave the area as she didn't want to deal with him anymore today. She soon saw his car leave and saw that his father wasn't in it, so she guessed he was off to cause trouble with his friends. Once she saw that he was gone she started walking out the door just wanting to get home, eat, and rest after what just happened.

"Hey Aika wait!" Haru called out.

Aika stopped, turned around, and asked "Yeah what do you need?"

" I saw you looking in the art section and forgive me if I'm wrong, but it looked like you were searching for the notebooks. I know they keep them on those shelves " He explained as his face displayed his flustered expression.

" Yeah I do, as an artist I use them up alot. The ' no friends ' thing doesn't help either. Why does it matter though? I know they won't be in stock for another week " Aika admitted still frustrated at having to wait.

" Oh! Well...I don't need it and I don't mind giving it to you, so here " Haru said holding the notebook out in front of him.

" Ha, it's the same design as the walls in my room. The book, I mean. "

" Oh! Really? I just got this and another one online, the website I bought them off asked if I want to join the artist game " Haru explained.

"Oh I wonder what that meant?" Aika asked, confused.

"I don't know it might just be an art contest, anyway here I've seen what you've drawn and it's really cool." Haru happily said.

"Thanks I really need this while my mom is out." Aika said while taking the notebook and leaving.

* Hinote...I won't let someone like you who spreads STD's like wildfires have Aika * Haru's face contorting to a scowl and the previous assault incident flashed in his mind.

He then got out his notebook and started drawing in it under the counter, he couldnt help but smile a little as he knew what he was going to do. He was going to make Hinote regret what he did to Aika and for all the bullying he put Haru through over the years.

(At Aika's house)

When Aika got in she took her shoes off and didn't bother putting them away properly since she was tired, mostly from the encounter with Hinote. So she just left her shoes where they were and went to the kitchen to eat her food. While she was eating she decided to get out the new notebook and start drawing in it. When she opened it she saw that the notebook had a purple pen in it and a little text that read "write your name and home state to enter the Artists game."

Confused, Aika didn't take it as anything. She wrote her name and state in the box. She started drawing characters and creatures unaware of the consequences, she just entered herself into The Artist Game.

(Somewhere else)

Hinote was hanging outside with his friends in an alleyway. They were smoking and conversing about what happened back in the store.

"Wow, I can't believe she punched you, must be playing really hard to get." One if Hinote's friends said.

" Yeah. I'll get her soon, all the other girls have fallen for me and she will too " he said confidently while taking another puff of his weed.

The metallic almost plastic like sound of cans was heard by the back of the alley. All three boys stood up peering into the cold dark void that was the alleyway.

" Hey! Who's there?! If it's one of you homeless fucks I promise you'll feel pain like no other! " Hinote yelled trying to sound aggressive, he could hear the fear in his voice which didn't help.

Fast swift footsteps began to aggressively approach them, they all stared in fear as a tall, thin black monster emerged from the shadows. It wielded blades, not for a normal weapon like a knife...but it's own hands.

The boys all screamed for their mothers as they tried to run away from it. Their effort would amount to nothing, the creature being too fast for them to outrun it sliced through their bodies killing them. The alleyway walls and ground now coated with a fresh crimson color. It loomed over their bodies for a minute until it shriveled up like discarded paper and torn apart.

Just then a woman walked by the alleyway. The strong scent of blood and death pulling her attention. Scanning the alleyway, she shrieked in horror as she saw the mutilated bodies of the unlucky teenage boys.

Their shrieking attracted the attention of the people in the apartment complex and convent store nearby. Some other people rushed out and were horrified when they saw the horrific scene. Some people fainted, others threw up, and another man was calling the police.

They soon arrived within a few minutes after receiving the distressing call along with an ambulance and a cleanup crew to care for the bodies and fainted people. The chief of police was looking around the crime scene for a murder weapon - just anything that could point them in the direction of what did this.

"Sir we didn't find any weapons, all we found were just shreds of paper." The officer told his commander and showed him the said paper shreds.

"Still someone had to have done this. After all people don't just split in half for no reason." The commander said angrily.

"I know sir and we'll figure out what happened, don't worry." The officer said, trying to reassure his boss.

The commander thankfully calmed down... till he remembered that he would have to tell the parents of the boys and that's something no one wants to do.

(In Haru's house)

Haru was in his room looking at his notebook with a satisfied look on his face.

* I knew my creature wouldn't let me down. Ah, I love this game * Haru said to himself

"Haru come down dinners ready and your fathers home!" Haru's mother called to her son.

"Okay mom coming!" Haru called out before closing the notebook and hiding it under his mattress so his sister wouldn't take it.

He then pulled out a picture of Aika from under his mattress and looked at it for a bit before kissing it.

" Aika... you're so beautiful, don't worry that bastard won't ever bother you again. I'll make sure that no one will EVER hurt you again " Haru spoke softly before putting the photo back under his mattress and heading downstairs to join his family for dinner.

#anime #blood #creatures #darkthemes #deathgame #drawing #goth #horror #japan #love #monsters #murder #supernatural

1 note · View note