#they are responsible for this fucking au getting anywhere

[no1ryomafan]

I wasn’t gonna talk about anything regarding the crossover until it was published but I has a strong desire to make this fucking image and do I regret it? Nope because this is utterly hilarious when not even people who’ve bets chapter one understand half of these.

[yuujispinkhair]

Bad Boy - Good Toy

Sukuna is used to girls throwing themselves at him, begging him to dominate them. He never met any resistance. He never met any challenge. Until he meets you, and suddenly, the bad boy becomes nothing but a willing fucktoy.

There is now a Part 02

Pairing: Sub!Sukuna x Dom!Reader (female) Genre: smut, College AU Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, degradation, humiliation, edging, exhibitionism, voyeurism, smoking, mentions of drugs, sharing chewing gum, facesitting, squirting, abs-riding, overstimulation, Sukuna cums untouched, piss (Reader pees on Sukuna to humiliate him, and he likes it). Reader calls Sukuna slut, fucktoy and fuckdoll. Unhealthy relationship dynamics. Reader and Sukuna don't talk about limits or safe words. Sukuna is ok with everything Reader does to him, but please be aware that this isn't the way a sub/dom relationship is supposed to be in real life. I just wanted things to be a bit fucked up in this story ;) Divider @/benkeibear

Sukuna is bored. So fucking bored. Bored with college in general, bored of the parties that are always the same, bored of the drugs that don't give him the kick he craves anymore. Even sex is boring nowadays. He sighs as his gaze brushes over the girl kneeling between his spread legs. He didn't bother asking for her name. He thinks she might be in his history course. But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters.

He doesn't even bother to hide from view, letting her suck him off in the back of the dimly lit living room on some ratty couch, while a few meters away, people are dancing and drinking and singing along to songs that Sukuna hates. She is eager, bopping her mouth on his dick enthusiastically, humming around him, and hollowing her cheeks like a champ. But he feels nothing at all. He isn't even sure he can cum tonight. It's like he is numb to everything. The nameless girl moans around his dick, and Sukuna grabs his phone to send his brother a message.

Where are you, brat? I want to leave.

He doesn't get a reply and instead checks his group chats and e-mails while the girl between his legs slurps loudly on his tip. Sukuna huffs in annoyance and lets his bored gaze travel through the room. It lands on a girl in a red t-shirt who is looking in his direction. You are sipping your drink casually while you unashamedly watch him getting his dick sucked.

It makes him grin broadly. Finally, a little bit of entertainment. Maybe he will manage to cum just to give that little voyeur a good show. And afterward, he can take you to one of the bedrooms and fuck you. Or maybe do it right here on that couch, too.

He winks at you. A smile spreads over your face, but it's not the smile Sukuna usually sees on the faces of the girls he plans to fuck. It's the kind of smile he sees in the mirror. A smile that means trouble. His cock twitches, and he groans softly.

He doesn't break eye contact, and neither do you. Sukuna raises an eyebrow challengingly, smirking at you, daring you to come over while he gets his dick sucked. His stomach flips when you really start walking towards him.

Sukuna's pulse accelerates when you stop right next to him. You let your gaze travel from his face down to his cock, watching it bop in and out of that other girl's mouth. You chuckle. It's not a nice sound.

"Aww, do you have problems cumming, Sukuna? Is your dick not working?"

For a stunned second, Sukuna just blinks at you, mouth hanging open. The resident bad boy rendered speechless for the first time in his life. And then he throws his head back and laughs, and simultaneously, he feels his balls tighten.

"If you get on all fours, I will show you just how good my dick works, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes and cross your arms in front of your breasts, looking at him with a bored and unimpressed expression.

"What makes you think I would let you get anywhere near me with that dick of yours. I don't want dirty, good-for-nothing sluts like you."

"What did you just call me?"

But his response lacks the bite. Instead, he sounds breathless, and his hand tightens on the couch as his cock twitches in the other girl's mouth. Fuck, it feels so good all of a sudden.

You smile that dangerous smile again and lean closer, your flowery perfume filling Sukuna's nose, and you repeat your words to him, slowly, overly accentuated as if he is stupid,

"Dirty. Good-for-nothing. Slut."

A raw groan spills from Sukuna's throat, and his hips buck off the couch, making the girl between his legs choke on his cock, as he nuts so hard into her mouth that she's spluttering his cum everywhere.

He stares wide-eyed at your smug face as the gears in his mind shift at lightspeed. What the fuck just happened?

The girl between his legs climbs onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, and tries to kiss him, but Sukuna turns his face to the side, looking at you instead,

"Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?"

"Why? Enjoyed it too much, and now you are scared of how your body betrayed you, little slut?"

You laugh and turn around, walking away while you lift a hand in a mocking little wave, and Sukuna stares after you with his mind whirling and his cock still throbbing.

He wakes up the next morning with a strange feeling in his gut. Something is different.

And after a moment, he realizes what it is when the memories from last night come back, and his eyes widen, and a whispered curse falls from his lips. The encounter with you replays in his mind just like it did countless times before he managed to fall asleep last night. Your cruel smile and the sadistic glint in your eyes. The way his body reacted to it.

He is so used to everyone cowering before him. So used to everyone submitting to him so willingly. All those countless girls throwing themselves at him, begging him to please let them suck his dick, obeying his every command, asking him if they can please call him daddy during fucking.

He never met any resistance. He never met any challenge. One look from him and the girls were practically on their backs with their legs spread like some animal in heat.

No one ever talked to him the way you did. Or looked at him that way. As if he is worthless trash in your eyes. Your words resonate in his brain. "You dirty, good-for-nothing slut."

Fuck! It turns him on. It makes him achingly hard even now. He turns onto his back and shoves a hand into his pants. He jerks off so furiously that his wrist hurts, making a huge mess all over himself when he cums to the thought of you calling him a useless brat.

Sukuna isn't the same man he was 24 hours ago.

He totally doesn't look for you on campus on Monday morning. It is totally a coincidence that he slides up to you when you pull out a package of strawberry bubble gum from the vending machine. It's definitely not like he followed you around like a puppy for a whole hour until he finally got his shit together and decided to approach you.

"Strawberry flavor, huh? Wouldn't have thought that a foul person like you would pick such a sweet flavor."

You eye him lazily, eyes never leaving his as you tear open the packaging and put one of the pastel pink bubble gums into your mouth before you grace him with a reply.

"Oh, shut up. An attitude like that doesn't fit a pretty boy like you. Learn to behave, and then we can talk again."

Sukuna feels his lips lift in his trademark smirk as that weird, exhilarating sensation fills his veins again. He is enjoying himself far too much. He braces himself against the vending machine, his large hands on both sides of your face, caging you in, towering over you, while he smirks down at you.

But you don't seem intimidated at all by his height and muscular figure and the tattoos on his face. Instead, you smile at him and cock your head to the side, eyeing him expectantly as if you are waiting for him to do something.

He leans down, bringing his face closer to yours.

"Can I have a gum too? Please? See, I can behave very well."

His voice has dropped to his usual flirty, seductive tone, which he always uses on girls. The tone that always drives them crazy and makes them drop their panties faster than they can say his name.

You flutter your lashes exaggeratedly at him, smiling a sickeningly fake angelic smile as you open your mouth and pull out your gum.

"Ok, you can have one since you asked so politely. Open up, slut."

He laughs when you push the used gum to his lips, but Sukuna isn't one to back down, so he grabs your small hand, wraps his tattooed hand around your wrist, and opens his mouth. He licks your fingers, lets his tongue-piercing glide over your fingertips, and sucks the used bubble gum into his mouth.

You gaze deeply into his eyes, looking amused.

"You didn't even say thank you, Sukuna. You are still such a useless and rude brat."

You turn on your heel and leave him standing there like some rejected loser, and he chews the gum that tastes like strawberry and your spit and feels his cock twitch against his sweatpants.

Sukuna sees you again on Saturday at another party. Two girls danced with him and asked him if he wanted to fuck them both upstairs in one of the bedrooms, but he turned them down, not even able to grasp why.

Until he walks into the kitchen and sees you. And suddenly, things fall into place.

Why bother with those random girls when the one he really wants is you? You are the only one who poses a challenge. The only one who makes his skin tingle with excitement. The only one who makes him feel like he is still alive and not some fucking ghost.

He leans against the fridge and watches you while he lights a cigarette. He smokes it in silence, just smirking at you and hoping you will come over and call him a slut again. Or any other degrading name you can think of. Sukuna isn't picky.

You walk over to him, a few drags into his cigarette, and stop in front of him, so close that he can smell your sweet perfume again. And you smile that smile that isn't sweet at all as you reach up and take the cigarette from Sukuna's lips. Your eyes never leave his as you bring his half-smoked cigarette to your mouth, wrapping your lips with the red lipstick around the filter right where Sukuna's lips were a moment ago, and the sight is so sexy to him that Sukuna has to bite his lip not to moan.

You take a deep drag, and your eyes close for a moment as the nicotine fills your senses before they open again to gaze up at Sukuna through your long lashes, grinning as you slowly blow the smoke right into Sukuna's face.

He laughs, pushing himself off the fridge, stepping closer to you, so close that his hips brush against you,

"You know what that means, right princess? Blowing smoke in someone's face?"

"Who doesn't know that?"

You roll your eyes and look at him as if he is stupid, and he can't help but place his large hands on your waist and drawl in his best bedroom voice,

"So, you admit you want to fuck me?"

You smirk back at him as you push his hands off your waist, sounding dismissive when you shrug and say,

"You have a pretty face and a good body. And I am horny right now. So why not? And you are probably a good fuck, with all that practice you had."

"What makes you so sure I want to fuck you?"

"Oh, don't be silly. You won't say no. A slut like you never does. Everyone knows you are easy."

Sukuna doesn't bother telling you that he just turned down two hot chicks half an hour ago. He lets you grab his hand and pull him along, and he follows you with a broad smirk on his tattooed face.

His cock is already pressing against his jeans when his crotch brushes over your ass when you pull him up the stairs. His mind is hazy, thoughts clouded over by lust, finally feeling that sweet, exciting buzzing again that he missed so much.

You pull him into one of the bedrooms, yank off his t-shirt, and push him onto the bed. Or you try to. You push against his broad chest, not able to move him an inch, but he plays along and lets himself fall onto the bed, looking up at you with heavy-lidded maroon eyes and his throbbing erection leaking pre-cum into his pants like some pathetic little virgin before his first fuck.

Sukuna licks his lips when he watches you reach under your skirt and take off your panties. That's the only thing you take off before you join him on the bed, straddling his thighs, making him smirk at you like the devil that he is,

"So eager to get my cock inside you that you can't even be bothered to get naked, princess?"

"Shut up, slut. Good boys don't talk unless I allow it."

Your little hands are on his belt, opening it, unbuttoning his jeans, and pulling down the zipper, making Sukuna's hips twitch when your hand rubs over his boxer-clad erection. He knows he is acting pathetic right now, cock so eager, already staining the fabric of his boxer briefs with a ridiculously huge amount of pre-cum. But fuck it, he is finally turned on again, finally excited to fuck again after all those months of feeling bored.

He pushes his hard cock against your hand, but you pull away again, smiling that devilish smile at him as you crawl on top of him.

Sukuna laughs breathlessly when you hover above his face, letting him know what you want from him. His large hands reach out to run slowly up the back of your thighs before they cup your ass cheeks, and he pulls you down onto his face.

He groans when your hot wet pussy settles on his tattooed face. Fuck, he always heard his brother go on and on about how hot he finds it when a girl sits on his face with a skirt and no panties. Sukuna had never found it so fascinating until now. Until it is you, and you tell him in that emotionless voice,

"Get to work, my little slut. If you make me squirt, you will get a reward."

He turns his face and moans against your inner thigh, leaving a kiss there,

"And what will my reward be?"

"I'll allow you to cum."

Allow him to cum?

Fuck. The words alone make Sukuna throb in his boxer briefs, another pearl of pre-cum leaking out of him.

"Then stop acting like a squeamish virgin and sit on my face for real."

"I told you to shut up, brat."

"Then shut me up with your pussy."

Sukuna grabs your ass cheeks tightly and pulls you down further, making you sit on his face for real. He isn't just a good fuck. He is the best fuck, and he will prove it to you!

He sucks your little swollen clit into his mouth and laughs when you gasp loudly. You grab his hair, tugging on it, making him groan as the slightly painful sensation goes directly to his throbbing cock. And he spoils your pussy like the slut that he is. Teases your clit with the stiff tip of his tongue and pushes the metal ball of his tongue piercing under the hood of your clit until you tremble and moan loudly.

He gets really into it, fucks you with his tongue and sucks savagely on your clit, eats you so good that it only takes a few minutes until you let out a high-pitched squeal and buck wildly against his face.

Hot, sticky liquid gushes over his lips, and you rock against him, voice breathless but still so stern,

"Open your eyes. Watch me cum all over your pretty face. Yeah, take it all, you little slut. Drink it all up."

Sukuna's eyes meet yours, and he moans, and his hips buck involuntarily, cock so desperate that he is rutting against thin air while pulsing pre into his boxer briefs.

He drinks you up, pushes his pierced tongue deeply into your twitching pussy, and licks it all up, basking in the way you mewl his name for a split second before you regain control and run a hand through his tousled pink hair, smoothing it down again,

"You are a good little fucktoy, Sukuna. Well done."

Sukuna's cock throbs at your words, and he blinks in surprise. Ok, so it's not just degradation that gets him excited, but also praise? Well, he is so fucked. So thoroughly fucked, and he loves every second of it!

You climb off his face, kneeling on the bed beside him, and let your small hands trail down Sukuna's defined pecs and his taut abs, following his tattoos down to the hem of his boxer briefs.

"You have such a nice body, Sukuna. The perfect little fucktoy. And what about that pretty cock? Is he perfect too, hm?"

A breathy gasp falls from his lips when you run a single finger over the thick bulge in his boxer briefs, slowly running up and down his whole throbbing length. Just a light, teasing touch, but it makes his vision blurry and pulls a desperate-sounding whine from his mouth.

It's so fucking humiliating. He's making such pathetic noises. But he simply can't bring himself to care. Not when he finally feels alive again when he is with you. His low voice is thick with need when he whispers,

"You said you would make me cum."

"Uh uh, I didn't say I would make you cum, sweetheart. I said I will allow you to cum. Let's see how things will go. Let's see how excited my little fucktoy will get. Don't forget what you are here for, Sukuna, baby. You are in this bed to serve me."

"Fuck..."

It takes all of Sukuna's willpower to not shove a hand into his boxer briefs and relieve that fucking pressure.

You straddle him again, sit on his abs this time, rubbing yourself on them, making him gasp when he feels how wet and hot your pussy is and how you spread your cream all over him. It's sexy. Nasty, just as he likes it.

Sukuna can see your face now, and it makes his chest fill with elation when he sees the fucked out expression on your face as you slide over his firm abs, rubbing your little clit against his hard muscles, your eyes closing and lips hanging open dumbly when you moan so sweetly and twitch on his stomach, reaching another orgasm on him.

He could sneak a hand behind you, could jack off behind your back, but he doesn't do it. He wants to be your good little toy.

You don't stop but keep rutting against him, your fingernails digging into the swell of Sukuna's pecs, leaving their crescent-moon-shaped marks there as you abuse your puffy clit further on his abs.

And Sukuna grabs your hips and helps you ride his abs, grinning as he hears your harsh breathing and feels you starting to tense up again. Another loud squeal tumbles out of your mouth, and Sukuna is about to taunt you for being so horny for him that you cum on him three times in a row when he feels something hot and wet on his abs, much more than during your other two orgasms.

You hum and grind against him as more wetness flows out of you and onto Sukuna's stomach, warm and sweet-smelling, and Sukuna's gaze snaps to yours in understanding.

You laugh and rub yourself against him, smiling that devilish smile as you pee on him. And he can't hold back the loud moan falling from his lips, can't stop his cock from twitching, almost cumming in his boxer briefs.

"You like that, you fucking pervert? Yeah, Sukuna? You like getting peed on? Well, I have more for you, my nasty boy."

You slide off him, hands grabbing his boxer briefs and pulling them down, finally freeing his aching cock. Sukuna groans when it springs up, bouncing lightly, rock-hard, pre-cum dripping down from it onto his abs.

You throw one leg over his thighs, kneeling over his stiff cock, and then more piss rains down from your hot cunt and onto Sukuna's cock.

And Sukuna moans and curses loudly as his back arches off the bed, and he cums all over himself, untouched, shooting hot ropes of cum out of his tip, all over his abs, and over your cunt that's hovering above him.

His vision goes black for a moment, and his breath comes out in loud, harsh huffs, his whole body shaking from the intensity of his orgasm. He thinks he never came so hard in his life.

You laugh and finally sit down on Sukuna's twitching cock, letting it glide between your wet folds, making him buck against you. But you don't let him push inside you. You just rub your wet cunt slowly over his spent length, watching with an amused smile as you milk every last spurt of cum out of Sukuna while you let more pee trickle over his cock, mixing his cum with your piss.

Sukuna's heart is beating so fast that he feels lightheaded. And the overstimulation makes him sob, makes his oversensitive cock ache and twitch, but oh, how he craves this sweet pain. He lets his head fall back on the pillow, letting more low moans spill from his lips, eyes closing as he pushes his slowly softening cock between your pussy lips, whimpering softly anytime that delicious pain pulses in his length.

He doesn't know how long it takes before you stop moving on him and slip off his lap. But he sighs when the sticky heat of your cunt leaves his cock.

The bed creaks as you crawl up to him to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, whispering in his ear,

"You are such a mess, Sukuna. Such a cute mess for me. I'm excited to see what else you can give me, my little fuckdoll."

You leave him lying there on top of the blanket, his cock pulsing hotly from the overstimulation, mind hazy with post-coital bliss, chest heaving with heavy breaths, skin sticky from his cum, and your squirt and pee.

It's disgusting, and he should feel embarrassed, but he can't help but moan softly as a small smile creeps over his face. Sukuna feels satisfied like he hasn't felt in months. He hopes you will use him again as your personal fucktoy very soon.

FUCKTOY SUKUNA, I WANT YOU 💗💗 I wrote the first draft of this story a while ago and then thought I wouldn't dare publish it because it's too nasty, but I changed my mind, lol. I hope it was ok and that my fellow sub!Sukuna enjoyers accept this treat ;)

There will be a second part!! The story got too long, and there would have been too many sex scenes, so I decided to split it.

Thank you so much for reading 💗 Reblogs and comments would be very sweet!

HERE IS PART 02

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio DPxDC Nobody Knows Au Pt 3

Parts 1 and 2

They both fall silent and stare. 

That's an answer to one of many questions they've been asking themselves for years, isn't it?

Their best friend disappeared, and it wasn't abduction or murder. It was an escape.

“You guys don't have contact with Jack and Maddie, do you?”

Tucker swears there's a record scratch in his brain.

Sam gapes. “You mean your parents?”

Danny smiles, small, grim and humorless. “Jack and Maddie.”

Jesus Christ.

Sam glances over at Tucker and they exchange a look. Tucker knows they've been feeling a shared guilt for a long time, feeling like they didn't do enough. They had suspicions about something fucked going on in Danny's home life since the beginning of freshman year, but they never blew the whistle about it.

Rationally they know it wasn't their responsibility. All of Amity had suspicions - someone should have called CPS, and it shouldn't have been a couple of kids. A goddamn adult should have stepped up.

It doesn't keep either of them from feeling like they failed their childhood best friend.

“Considering I've spent the last four years suspecting they killed you and chucked your body into the portal to hide it? Hell fucking no, Danny,” Sam asserts.

The set of Danny's shoulders relaxes significantly. “Good,” he breathes. “Good. Please keep it that way.”

“What the fuck was going on in that house, man?” Tucker asks, a little sick to his stomach. He knows right away he shouldn't have asked.

Danny's expression shutters into something polite and pleasant to hide discomfort, and he immediately starts ‘casually’ gathering his papers and computer into his bag.

“Listen, I'm really happy to see you guys - seriously. I really should get going though, I-”

Sam reaches out and snatches him by the scruff of his shirt before he can even stand up all the way, yanking him back down into his chair.

His dumbfounded expression makes Tucker snort a laugh, so familiar and puppy-like. Danny is still all big blue eyes and nearly visible question marks when taken off guard. Tucker missed that face.

“You're not going anywhere until we get your phone number,” Sam argues, not a hint of wiggle room in her face or tone. “We'll get lunch or something, all three of us. Go to the mall. We're living in the same city, you know I'll hunt you down.”

When Danny hesitates, her face and tone melt into something softer.

“Please, Danny. We miss you.”

Danny melts a little, sighing and smiling. “...yeah. Yeah, I missed you too. I've missed you guys so much.”

“So?” Sam prompts, holding her hand out.

Danny huffs a little laughing breath and fishes around in his pocket, unlocking his phone and plopping it into her hand. 

His nails are black and green. Gradient.

Tucker doesn't know much about nails, but he knows there's a difference when Sam paints them and when she splurges for acrylics.

“Are those professionally done?” he asks, bemused. Danny had never expressed an interest in that kind of thing as a kid. It's kind of cool to see signs that he's, like…growing into himself.

Danny shrugs, and it feels good to see that he doesn't even seem to consider Tucker might give a shit in a bad way.

“I'm on my hot girl shit,” he deadpans, and Sam nearly drops his phone with the force of her startled laugh.

Tucker snorts. “Oh, well about time.”

“Hey!” Danny protests, offense fake and eyes dancing. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing! You had a glow up is all.”

Danny snickers and kicks him gently under the table.

“Okay, dick.”

It's like they never parted at all for a moment.

“Here, Mr. Hot Girl Shit,” Sam says, handing Danny his phone back. “I put our numbers in and sent a text in a group chat so you can't forget to reach out. I'm serious, Danny. We missed you, don't disappear. It was scary enough the first time.”

Danny grimaces, at least looking genuinely apologetic. “I know. I'm sorry. I really do need to get going today, though. I've got an appointment.”

“What kind of appointment?” Tucker asks.

The grin Danny gives him is mischievous and has a few teeth sharper than he remembers there being. 

He breezes past them and out the door with an impish response of, “Hide and seek with furries.”

Part 4

Masterpost

[navyiera]

Baby Came Home;

pairing: modern!au!ellie x fem!reader

a/n: nothing to say other than keeping the memory of fluffy farm ellie.

The first thing you notice is the warmth. Her warmth.

Ellie is practically glued to you, her arm slung over your waist, face buried in the crook of your neck. She sleeps like someone who never really learned how to—light and restless, always shifting, always searching for something just outside her reach. But now, in the quiet morning glow, she’s still. Peaceful.

You don’t move at first, just take her in. The freckles scattered across her skin, the way her hair sticks up in wild angles, the steady rise and fall of her breath against your collarbone. She smells like old leather and cedar, something unmistakably Ellie.

Then, with a soft grumble, she stirs.

“Mmhh… what time is it?” Her voice is hoarse with sleep, words slurred together as she nuzzles closer, like the morning itself is offensive.

You glance at your phone. “Too early.”

She huffs, tightening her arm around you. “Then go back to sleep.”

You smile, fingers absentmindedly tracing the ridges of her knuckles. “You go back to sleep.”

“I am,” she mumbles, though she’s definitely more awake now. One green eye cracks open, half-lidded and lazy as she peers up at you. “You staring at me or something?”

“Maybe.”

She smirks, but it’s soft, sleep-dazed. “Creep.”

You roll your eyes but don’t pull away when she shifts, pressing a slow, barely-there kiss against your shoulder. It lingers, lazy and warm, before she flops back down against the pillow with a sigh. “Five more minutes.”

You brush a few strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ear. “Take your time.”

Ellie takes full advantage of those five minutes. Maybe more.

She melts into you, face pressed against your shoulder, one leg thrown over yours like she’s trying to keep you there. Not that you’re going anywhere.

The world outside is creeping awake—cars passing, birds chattering, the distant hum of life carrying on—but here, in this small, warm space, time doesn’t feel real.

You run your fingers through Ellie’s hair, letting them tangle and smooth through the strands. She hums, barely awake, and shifts slightly, her hand sliding over your ribs, tracing slow, absentminded patterns on your skin.

"You’re doing that thing again," she mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

"What thing?"

"Being all soft and… touchy." She peeks up at you with a lazy smirk. "Didn’t know you were such a sap."

You scoff. "Says the one who literally won’t let go of me right now."

Ellie tightens her grip around your waist in response. "Shut up."

You laugh, quiet and warm, tilting your head to press a kiss to her forehead. She sighs, almost content, before shifting onto her back, one arm draped behind her head as she stares up at the ceiling.

The morning light catches on the faint scars on her arms, on the curve of her jaw, on the sleep-soft edges of her expression.

After a moment, she glances at you. "You hungry?"

You grin. "You offering to cook?"

She snorts. "Fuck no. But I do have a very advanced skill of dialing a number and saying ‘hello, yes, I’d like a large stack of pancakes, please.’"

You shake your head, laughing. "Fine. But I’m picking the place."

Ellie grins, kissing your shoulder again. "Mkay."

Before you can get up, she hooks a finger under your chin and tilts your face toward hers. The kiss is slow and unhurried, still warm with sleep, still drowsy with morning. She lingers, her lips brushing against yours like she’s memorizing the feel of it, like she’s trying to trap this moment between you.

When she finally pulls back, her thumb grazes your cheek. "Morning kisses are a thing now, by the way."

You hum, pressing another quick kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Not complaining."

She huffs, eyes soft, before finally stretching with a groan. "Alright, pancakes."

You laugh, threading your fingers through hers as you sit up. "Yeah, yeah. Let’s go."

[dreamsteddie]

AITA Steddie Au Part Three

Part Two

Hello! Sorry for the delay! This week was very busy with student conferences and my own midterms so I haven't had a lot of time to work on this. This is more of an interlude building up to bigger things, but I hope you enjoy it!

Also! Get in the comments if you have any ideas of an actual name for this series so I can stop calling it AITA Steeddie Au. I can't think of anything good 😓

------

Eddie takes Steve on that second date.

And then a third and a fourth and eventually he stops counting because he's seeing Steve as often as he can between their jobs and other responsibilities. He feels high off it, giddy with possibility and hope for this new thing that he's never had before.

Eddie has done relationships before, a couple of times. A small handful of boys and girls he took out on dates and tried his best to woo all went up in flames one way or another, but none of those relationships left him feeling so gone so fast. He felt like he was always holding himself back from giving himself up completely, too afraid of falling without a safety net to reach for that deep devotion he's always craved.

Steve makes him feel like they're plunging into that unknown together.

Still, no matter how much he's been trying to avoid it, the looming specter of what the hell to do about his friends is looming over his head.

------

"Are you fucking serious right now dude?" Eddie asks, a complicated mix of righteous anger, humiliation for himself and Steve, and complete disbelief at Gareth's unwillingness to back down from this making it increasingly difficult to keep his cool.

"Look man, all I'm saying is that Steve is like, the complete antithesis of literally everything we stand for. He's a nepo baby business major who's never had an original thought in his life! I would know! I've read one of his papers." Gareth says, forced nonchalance coloring his tone and riling Eddie up even more.

He rears up, shoulders pushing back and hands grasping at the air like he could pull down his frustration from the either and condense it into a solid ball he could lob at Garteth's head to finally knock some goddamn sense into his brain.

"Hey, hey, hey. Okay, Eddie, I'm really sorry about this. It was a fucked up idea, I don't know what we were thinking." Jeff interveins before the frustrated banshy noises Eddie is letting out turn into another yelling match that won't get anyone anywhere.

"I think we just got too caught up wanting to help you get out of this rut and it all turned into something completely insane. You don't gotta forgive us Eddie, but if there's anything we can do to try and make up for it, we'll do it. Isn't that right Gareth?" Jeff pointedly asked with a look that says agree with me right now or else.

Gareth doesn't say anything.

The thing about all of this that Eddie just can't wrap his head around is the why. Why would his friends, his sheepies, do something so cruel? He knows none of them have ever looked kindly at people like Steve. Too many traumatizing high school humiliations behind them all to trust when someone who looks so much like all the guys who bullied them in high school tries to reach out, but Gareth and Jeff have never tried something like this. In fact, it's used to be Eddie doing most of the anti-jock revenge planning back in the day, even if nothing ever actually came from it.

He thought, incorrectly it seems, that they had grown out of the worst of it by now. It's been three years since Garteth graduated, and five since Eddie made his final attempt, and leaving their hometown behind did a lot to heal old hurts.

So why this? Why now?

"Is this seriously how it's going to be man? You won't tell me what the fuck any of this was really about and you're not even going to try and apologize? Seriously?" The righteous anger is starting to seep out of him, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion.

Gareth just continues to stare at him defiantly, not saying a word.

Eddie pinches his nose and takes a deep breath, "You know what? Fine. Whatever. If this is how it's going to be then I'm out. Jeff, I'll talk to you later, probably not for a little bit though. Gareth?" The other man lifts his head from where he'd been looking down at his shoes. There were tears in his eyes, just a little bit but enough for Eddie to clock it. Face red from some unnamed cocktail of emotions Eddie doesn't have the energy or desire to interrogate right now. "Call me when you're ready to grow the fuck up. I've got a second date to plan."

With that, Eddie turned on his heel and made for the open garage door.

"What about the band, man?!" Gareth called.

Eddie kept walking.

-------

That was over four weeks ago.

He hasn't spoken to Gareth for most of that time. The first couple of days he blew up his phone with angry to half-apologizing texts that Eddie promptly ignored. After the second day, he sent a single text back letting him know he didn't want to talk unless he had a real explanation and apology to give both him and Steve and that he was going to block his number for a little while. He could let Freak know if he was ever ready to talk like adults. Eddie trusted him to tell if Gareth was being genuine.

In other news.

Waking up to strong arms secured around his naked waist is fast becoming Eddie's favorite way to start the day. He and Steve slept together for the first time last week, and since then it's like neither of them can get enough of each other.

"Hey, baby." Steve rasps in his ear, tilting his head down to smear sleepy kisses onto his shoulder. The hand that was resting against his ribs meanders its way down to the trail of hair under his navel, scratching just a little and making Eddie feel like a contented mutt. He's not sure if he should feel horny or like he could sink into the mattress and sleep for another full 8 if Steve keeps holding him like his.

"Mornin' sweetheart." he says deciding that a couple more hours of sleep is definitely the way to go. Steve, it seems, has other idead.

"What you thinkin' about this early in the morning?" He asks, hand continuing to scratch lazily at Eddie's stomach like he's not completely destroying Eddie's will and ability to focus on anything but the warm body behind him.

But it's been a long time coming, and as much as he doesn't want to, Eddie needs to start thinking about what he wants to do about his friends? former friends? estranged family? band and Steve deserves to be a part of the conversation.

Eddie sits up, bringing Steve up with him to rest against the headboard. "I've been thinking about the band. Gareth and Jeff, that is." He pauses, waits for some kind of reaction that doesn't come. Steve looks concerned, but not in the way he thought he would.

"Ok." Steve responds, waiting for more.

"I guess I just don't know what to do." He looks out into the middle distance of Steve's bedroom. Takes in the display of swim, basketball, and baseball trophies displayed proudly on a shelf, catching the early morning light. "I'm still so fucking mad. It's honestly kind of irritating how mad it makes me to think of what they did. It was so fucking stupid."

Steve hums a little, letting Eddie get it out.

"But at the same time I can't help but fucking miss them. Miss the music and the campaigns and everything else." It's honestly been eating him alive, the mix of anger and longing he's been feeling for his friends. The constant longing to go back in time and stop them from concocting this shit show but also, like, stalk Gareth to his 8 AM Business class so he can run into Steve and they can fall in love at first sight or some shit.

Silence.

Steve shifts. Moves so he can look Eddie right in the face. He looks thoughtful in a way that Eddie had to get used to. Sometimes when Steve is thinking hard about something, he scrunches his face in such a way that it makes him look like he's judging you. He isn't, it's just an unfortunate fact of life that his baby has a resting Judgemental Face™.

Steve heaves out a big breath, bringing Eddie back down to earth. "I mean, I don't want to, like, cloud your judgement or whatever but maybe you should try and talk to them one more time. Jeff appologized right?"

And, ok that's definetly not what Eddie was expecting to hear. It must show on his face because Steve is suddenly looking away, embaraced.

"I just..." He trails off, taking his own turn staring out at the dull shine of his old acomplishments. Eddie watches as his face once again turns pensive as he stares harder at the remnents of his high school acheivements.

"I used to be a pretty shitty guy. Did the same kind of shit your buddies did a couple of times." This isn't necessarily news to Eddie. They've talked a little about who Steve was in high school and how much work he put into himself before he decided to go back to college. It's still a bit of a shock to hear, though.

"So I get how someone can make a mistake like that, y'know? So if you want to try and talk it out, I won't be offended. I know we're in this together, now." Peace said, Steve reaches for Eddie's hand and gives it a squeeze.

It hits Eddie again, just how good Steve Harrington is. It hasn't been long, not really, since they got together but they've fallen together so completley, so easily, that it's easy to forget that there's still so much they have to learn, so many layers for Eddie to peal back. Behind every judgemental remark and complaint about the frequent phone calls he gets from chuldren he used to babysit in his hometown is a man who cares deeply and is capable of great forgiveness, even if it hasn't been earned yet.

Eddie squeezes his hand back.

"Are you sure?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah, it's not we have to totally forgive them, right? But I think you need to get a real answer from both of them about why it happened. Maybe you can find a way past it, maybe they'll say something that puts the nail in the coffin." He responds.

Eddie takes a deep breath, and thinks.

Steve is right. Eddie isn't satisfied with any of the answers he got last time, and he knows that there has to be more to the story than "trying to get Eddie out of a rut" and he's not going to be able to put any of this to rest until he understands.

"Ok, yeah. I'll call them." Steve gives him an encouraging smile at that, rubbing the back of Eddie's hand where they haven't let go yet.

"Good, I'm glad. And I can come with you if you want. Hit em from both sides." he says. Eddie think's he'll take him up on that offer, but right now he had more imporant things to do. Namely, tackling his sweet boyfriend onto the mattress and having a mid morning tousle.

"We'll see. Right now I've got more imporant things to do." He says in his best aproximation of a sultry voice. He doesn't know how good it really is, but it seems to work based on the way Steve's eyes get hooded and he looks down at Eddie's mouth.

Gotcha.

Before Steve can lean down and kiss him, Eddie snaps his hands down to his boyfriend's sides in a well executed tickle atack. Steve immedietly jolts and starts howling with laughter, yelling between breaths that Eddie is "a fucking asshole" as he continues his relentless atacks.

Eventually, Steve manages to regain his bearings and go on the offence, turning them over and trapping his boyfriend's hands beneath his knees so he can atack Eddie's equally ticklish sides.

Once the late morning has passes into early noon and they've both settled back into Steve's signifigantly more rumpled be, Eddie takes one more moment to think about the furute to come before he shelves it. He knows that whatever conversation is to come, it won't be easy, and even if things go as smoothly as possible with Gareth and Jeff, things will never be the same between them all.

Looking down at Steve, who is sporting the most outrageous bedhead in human history, laughing at the stream of reals Robin sent him in the middle of the night, he thinks he'll be okay either way.

Tag List

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[itneverendshere]

addicted to your rafe!! you mentioned in the bartender!reader au that rafe shared his life story after their first time together and was just wondering if youd ever write about it? would love to read about rafe spilling all (in more ways than one hehe) and reader's reaction but only if its something youre interested in writing!!

i was planning on making the smut really cute BUT...it got a little out of hand bc they're both horny so....enjoy!!! but there's fluff i promise. and he spills everything (eheheh)🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️😌🫢 thank you for the request 🩵🫂

i'll do anything you say, if you say it with your hands - r.c (+18)

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: SMUT!!!!; a little angst by the end and lots of fluff.

It's past midnight, and you’re sprawled out on your bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You’re still in your ratty tank top and sleep shorts, some throwaway show mumbling in the background.

The night’s quiet, a little too quiet, so when you hear a low thump at the window, you nearly jump out of your skin.

But you know that sound.

That’s Rafe.

You glance over just as his messy dark blond head pops up outside the window, blue eyes gleaming mischievously. Your heart does this stupid thing, and you’re grinning before you even realize it. You slide the window up quickly, shushing him though you know he’s careful.

"Hi,” You whisper, leaning into him the second he’s in, his broad shoulders blotting out the rest of the room.

“Miss me?” he murmurs back, lips quirking as he brushes a hand through your hair.

“Maybe a little,” You tease, tugging him closer by the front of his shirt. Rafe’s standing there in just a pair of worn jeans and a black T-shirt that clings to every hard line of muscle.

God, it should be illegal for him to look this good.

His hair is still damp at the tips, like he just came from a shower. He leans down and kisses you, his fingers moving to the bare skin at your waist. You’ve been doing this dance for two months now. All hot make-outs that never really go anywhere. Mostly because you’re the one always getting called away for shifts, for family, for whatever comes up.

But right now, right here? There’s no work, no responsibilities. It’s just you and him. And the way he’s looking at you right now, all hooded eyes and smirking lips, it’s driving you crazy.

“Why’d you sneak in, hmm?” You murmur against his lips, playing with the hem of his shirt. He pulls back, just enough to look down at you, a lazy smile on his face.

“Wanted to see you,” he breathes, eyes tracing over me like you’re something to devour. “Couldn’t wait.”

You practically pounce on him, shoving him back until he’s pinned against the wall by the window, his eyes widening for a split second before his hands are holding your hips, steadying you as you sit on his lap. You love it when he manspreads.

It’s so unlike you it’s almost funny, but at this point you’re desperate to feel him. You press yourself up against him, grinding slowly, and you feel the exact moment he realizes just how serious you are right now.

“Fuck, baby—” he groans as his grip tightens, like he’s trying to keep himself in check. But you don’t want him to hold back.

“I’m done waiting,” You breathe, pushing his shirt up and over his head in one quick motion. “Rafe—I’m losing my mind here.” His shirt hits the floor, and you let yourself really look at him.

All muscle, golden tan skin, the little dip between his abs you’ve fantasized about running your tongue along. You’ve seen him shirtless a million times, but right now?

He’s a masterpiece.

“I’m so horny it hurts, okay?” You admit in a whisper, almost like you can’t help it. His lips twitch as he leans in, his breath hot against your neck.

You feel your cheeks heat up. It’s not like you’re shy around him anymore, not really, but this feels different. You’re usually more reserved, the one who lets him make the moves, but tonight...you can’t help yourself.

“Sorry baby,” he murmurs as he rolls his hips up, and fuck, you can feel how hard he is already, straining against his jeans, “Want me to fix it for you?”

You know what he’s asking. You’ve had this conversation before—kind of.

The two of you have been skirting around it for weeks now, with heavy petting and breathless goodnights. You want more. You hook your fingers into his belt loops, tugging at him, and he hisses, biting back a curse. 

“Bed” he grunts, half-laughing, half-panting as he lifts you like you weigh nothing, carrying you across the room.

You’re already tearing at his belt by the time you hit the bed, and he lets out this breathless, desperate sound, half-plea, half-growl that shoots straight through you.

“Need you,” You gasp, yanking the belt free, popping the button on his jeans. He’s still standing, hovering over you as you sit on the bed, and you look up at him, chest heaving, hair messy, eyes wild.

“Yeah?” he breathes, and there’s this edge to his voice. You smirk, tugging his zipper down slowly, deliberately, keeping your eyes on his as you push his jeans down his hips.

“Yeah,” You know you have him. He’s yours, and he’s done waiting, too.

Once his jeans hit the floor, he’s on you, all heat and muscle. Rafe’s hands grip your wrists, pinning them above your head as he looks down at you, breathing hard. 

“I was trying to make it special,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost gravelly. “Our first time.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, he’s so stupidly and unexpectedly endearing sometimes it makes you fall even more.

“This not special enough for you?” You tease, arching your back and lifting your hips, feeling the slickness pooling between your thighs. “I don’t do it for you?”

“Oh, you do it for me, baby. Believe me,” His voice drops an octave, “’M trying to be a gentleman.”

“I don’t want a gentleman,” You quip, your tone playful, “I just want you.”

He wants to give in, but you know he also wants to take his time. “You sure about this?”

“Rafe. My shorts are stuck to my skin.”

He breathes in sharply, head dropping to your shoulder, as he murmurs, “You’re not wearing any panties?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. What’s it to you?” You tease, biting your lip, but you know you’re being a little reckless, teasing him like this.

He’s gonna get you good.

Rafe lifts his head, that infuriatingly handsome smirk still plastered on his face.

“So you are, huh?” His voice is low, almost predatory. “You trying to drive me crazy?”

You shrug, trying to play it cool even though it physically hurts not to touch him the way you want to right now. “What if I am?”

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. You arch against him, your breath hitching when he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear and sucks gently.

Your top hits the floor a second later. He’s kissing you again, his hands cupping you through your bra.

“Please,” you breathe, not even sure what you are asking for.

More, closer, something to stop the aching between your thighs. He seems to understand, though. He always does. 

He unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, taking you in inch by inch, “My pretty girl,” You feel a blush creep up your cheeks, but before you can think about it, he dips his head and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, he hums against your skin, the vibration making you delirious. His hand slids down to your shorts, pulling them with an easiness that makes your head spin. Then they are gone, too, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Rafe pulls back slightly, his eyes raking over your body with a look that makes you squirm.

“Beautiful,” he mutters, almost to himself. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Rafe,” you whisper, reaching for him. When he finally slips his fingers into your ruined panties, you are already trembling, whimpering, rocking against his hand.

“Shh,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ve got you, baby.”

He’s touching you, his fingers finding your slick clit and stroking gently. You’re so wet his flingers glid right on, your hips bucking up instinctively as his fingers move across your folds, teasingly slow.

Rafe smirks, clearly enjoying how wrecked you already are even though you hardly started.

"Easy, baby,” his lips brush against your jawline. “We got all night.”

You’re past patience.

You grab his wrist, guiding his hand exactly where you want it.

“Rafe,” you groan, your voice breaking a little, “I need more. Don’t piss me off.”

He chuckles, “So needy tonight,” he teases, but his voice is tight, he’s losing it too. His fingers dip lower, stroking where you need him most, and you nearly lose it right there.

He lingers there for a moment, just barely grazing your needy folds, before pressing a finger against your entrance. Slowly, he slides it in, and the sensation makes you moan—a big, delicious stretch as his finger sinks deep inside you. He curls it just the way you need him to, stroking your inner walls, already knowing your body better than his own.

He’s taking his time, not rushing into it, drawing it out. You tighten around him, embarrassingly horny, and he groans as he adds another finger, filling you more, the stretch making your legs tremble.

Oh, he's gonna ruin you for anyone else.

“Fuck,” you whimper, head falling back against the pillow as he starts to pump his fingers in and out. The way his fingers stretch you, the wet sounds of him working you open makes you want to go at it all night, even if you have work in the morning.

“Like that, baby?” His free hand gripps your thigh, easily keeping you spread wide for him. He’s so strong it makes you want to suck him whole.

You nod frantically, too far gone for words, only able to moan as he quickens the pace, thrusting his fingers in harder. Your walls flutter around him, tightening with every stroke, and you know you’re getting close—humiliatingly quick, but it’s been a while. 

A very, very, very, good while.

His thumb circles your clit, and the sensation makes you cry out, your body arching off the bed.

“Oh God—please,” you gasp, fingers clutching at his big buffy arm, desperate for more. He smirks against your skin, enjoying the way you’re panting beneath him. 

He’s got you in the palm of his hand, and he knows it.

His lips brush against your neck, teasingly slow, while his fingers move with purpose, hitting all the right spots, half of them you didn't know you had until now. Your breath is coming in ragged bursts as your body answers to his, feeling the heat coiling tight in your belly, practically shaking with anticipation. You know it's gonna be a good one.

He presses his forehead against yours, his breath uneven, eyes locked on you as if he’s watching every bit of pleasure cross your face.

You realize something—something that should’ve been obvious, but it never really clicked until now. It’s the way he looks at you, refusing to break away from yours that sends you into another orbit.

The eye contact—it’s doing something to you.

“Come for me, baby,” he murmurs, his voice just as wrecked, “Let me feel you.”

There’s no escaping him, no hiding from his gaze, the way he watches every twitch of your body, flutter of your lashes, every quiver of your lips. He’s drinking in your pleasure like he’s addicted to it.

You’re so close it’s dizzying, you can barely catch your breath. 

His forehead is still pressed to yours, nose brushing against yours, his lips so close but not touching—not yet. He wants you to see him. To know it’s him making you feel this way.

He leans in, lips caressing your ear, then.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, “Can feel you’re almost there. You’re so tight around my fingers—fuck, you’re close, aren’t you?” You can only nod, your breath hitching as his thumb circles your clit with just the right pressure, your hips grinding up into his hand instinctively. every word out of his mouth pushes you closer. “Look at you,” he coaxes, his voice like velvet, “So perfect.”

His fingers twist inside you, hitting that sweet spot, and your whole body tenses. The pleasure builds into a burning coil deep in your tummy, tightening with every movement. You can’t think, can’t breathe, and all you can do is feel—feel him, feel the way he’s working you. The way he’s talking you through it. 

“Just like that,” he whispers, “You’re doing so good, baby. Let me feel it.”

His thumb presses harder against you, and your whole body jerks up, like a woman possessed. You cry out, hips bucking uncontrollably like an animal as your orgasm hits you perfectly. Rafe’s fingers never stop, drawing it out, his other hand still gripping your thighs open.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come.” Your body trembles beneath him, the pleasure still vibrating through you, and he’s right there, “Ride it out, baby,” he breathes, his lips kissing your temple, his voice full of pride. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so good. So fucking good.”

You can’t do anything but cling to him as you shudder, once he finally slows his fingers, easing you down gently, pulling them out. You feel the emptiness like a loss, noticing the shit-eating grin on his face as he glances down at his hand, fingers still slick from you, and then slowly brings them to his mouth.

He holds your gaze, never breaking eye contact as he slips his fingers between his lips, tasting you. It’s slow and the way his eyes darken while his tongue sweeps over his fingers makes you whine. 

"God, baby," he murmurs around his fingers, as he pulls them from his mouth with a soft pop, licking his lips. “You taste so fucking good.”

You’re breathless, watching him like you’re in a trance, your heart pounding in your chest. The sight of him tasting you like that, makes your legs open again.

He grins, noticing how wrecked you look. “Didn’t think I could want you more,”

You’re still so turned on that you can’t help the way your thighs squeeze together instinctively. His eyes flicker down, catching the movement, and his grin only widens as he crawls back up your body, settling between your legs, “Don’t tease.”

"Don’t worry, baby," his lips skim against yours, “Not teasing anymore.”

You’ll never be able to have sex the same way again, not without looking, not without seeing him.

You don’t know where you get the strength to do it. But you do it anyways. As soon as Rafe settles back, you push him onto his back, taking advantage of his surprised expression, and climb on top, straddling his waist, your hands braced against his chest. You can feel the hard planes of his abs beneath your fingers, and the heat of him pressed against your pussy makes your mouth water. You can feel it building inside you, the need to take him, to ride him until there’s nothing left.

His hands settle on your ass, firm, but not controlling, giving you full reign to take what you want. His eyes are on yours, half-lidded and a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Go on, baby,” he drawls, his voice like honey, “Show me what you can do.”

You don’t even remember pulling his boxers down.

You let yourself brush against the hard length of him, and the sensation alone makes you bite your lip to hold back a moan. His cock is thick, long and hot beneath you, and you grind against him slowly, dragging your wetness along his length, teasing the both of you. You’re rocking back and forth against his tip, dragging him in between your soaked folds and pulling huffs and puffs from his throat as he only grows more impatient by the second.

“Fuck,” Rafe groans, his hips jerking up involuntarily, your clit rubbing against his pubic hair with every movement, the friction doing it for you. His abs tense beneath you, flexing with each of your movements, and the sight of it—of him completely at your mercy—only makes you wetter. 

You lean forward, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the way his muscles move under your touch.

“You like that?” you murmur, your voice breathy, teasing, as you grind harder against him. “Like watching me ride you?”

Rafe’s head falls back against the pillow, all the way back, his jaw clenched, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips tighter, lifting his hips to try and shift his cock towards your entrance.

You lean in, your lips dragging against the side of his neck. He shivers under your touch, and the reaction makes you grin. You start off slow, pressing gentle kisses, your lips trailing from his jaw down to the spot where his pulse is beating just a little faster, teasing him with your breath.

“Right here?” you whisper, barely grazing his skin.

You can feel his body tense as you speak, a low sound escaping his throat. You roll your hips again, this time letting the tip of his cock catch at your entrance. You’re so wet that he slides in just an inch, and the stretch is enough to make you gasp, your nails digging into his chest. His eyes fly open, and you can see the tension in his body, every muscle tight as he holds himself back from pouding into you, waiting for you to take him fully.

You press your mouth to his neck and start sucking, enjoying the taste of him under your lips.

His grip on is borderline bruising and you love it when another low moan slips out as you work your mouth against him. You make sure to take your time, alternating between sucking and nipping lightly with your teeth, just enough to make him shudder beneath you.

“Shit,” he breathes, his voice strained as you keep going, making sure to leave your mark. With a deep breath, you sink dow, slowly feeling every inch of him stretch you, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming—he’s big, almost too big, and it feels so fucking good you almost drool. By the time you’re fully seated on his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, your thighs are shaking, and you can feel the heat pooling in your belly all over again.

You suck harder, enjoying the multitasking, applying enough pressure enough to leave a dark bruise that he won’t be able to hide. His fingers dig into your waist, but he doesn’t pull you away—instead, he’s holding you there, wanting to feel every second of it.

“Now everyone’s gonna know you’re mine," You manage to breath out, moaning as you grip his chest for support, spit slicked lips parting as you gasp some more, "You feel so good."

His eyes are hooded as he looks down at you, lips parted, breathing uneven. “Yeah?” he rasps, his gaze flicking to your lips before he grins, a little breathless. “Didn’t think you had it in you, baby.”

His hands slide up your waist, his fingers splayed across your ribs, guiding you as you start to move. You start to ride him, slow at first, grinding your hips in slow, deliberate circles. The friction, combined with the way his cock fills you, hits every nerve just right. Maybe if it was someone else you’d be embarrassed to be panting like a bitch in heat, but it’s Rafe and you never felt so comfortable during sex before.

Every time you lift your hips and drop back down, you take him deeper, as you work yourself on top of him. His hands slide up to your tits, squeezing gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

You pick up the pace, bouncing on him harder now, grinding down with each thrust, chasing that high. Rafe’s eyes are glued to you, watching every move you make, his lips parted, his chest heaving with each stolen breath.

“Fuck,” you pant, barely able to catch your breath as you ride him faster, “I want you so deep, so bad.”

He lets out a rough, desperate groan, his hips bucking up to meet yours, his cock hitting even deeper inside you.

“I’m right here, baby,” he grits out, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back, “Take what you need. I’m all yours.”

His hands are on you, gripping your ass with a desperation that makes you mewl out. His fingers dig in, rough and possessive, and the way he’s groping you, like he can’t get enough, makes you want to never stop. Each time you move, his hands flex, squeezing and pulling you down onto his cock, it has you practically whining with every bounce.

“You’re driving me crazy. Just look at you, taking me so good.”

His grip tightens as you roll your hips, pushing your ass back against his hands, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. You’re completely lost in the rhythm now, grinding down on him like you’re in heat, the friction of his cock inside you and the way his pubic hairs rub against your swollen clit making you lightheaded.

And then, out of nowhere, his hand comes down hard.

The sting of his palm smacking your cheek sends a shock through your body, and you gasp—half surprise, half pleasure. It’s rough, but fuck, it feels divine. Your head snaps forward, and you moan, the sound coming out needy. 

“You like that, huh?” Rafe growls, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you react. His voice is thick with satisfaction, knowing exactly what he just did to you. “Being spanked?”

You bite your lip and nod, too far gone to be shy. "Yes," you pant, your voice shaky with need. "Do it again."

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hand comes down again, harder this time, it makes your skin burn and clench around him. The pleasure spikes, white-hot, and you moan louder, your body arching into his.

"Fuck, you're so sexy like this," He groans, watching you with hooded eyes, clearly loving how much you’re enjoying it.

You practically whimper, the combination of pain and pleasure sending you spiraling. You’re riding him like you’re losing your mind, your thighs burning. The way his hand soothes your skin, kneading the tender area where he just spanked you, makes you want to do this every single day for the rest of your life.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest as he bucks his hips, meeting your movements with his own, driving deeper inside you. It’s too much and not enough all at once.

“You feel so good,” you hiss as you rock your hips faster. His tip hits that perfect spot deep inside you, again and again.

His eyes flick between your face and where you’re connected, and you can tell he’s close too. His grip tightens on you, nails digging into your skin like he’s afraid to let go.

“You’re killing me, baby,” he rasps, voice hoarse, “Fuck, you’re so good. You’re gonna make me come.”

Feeling you wrapped around him like that—so fucking tight, so warm—he can’t fucking stand it. Every time you slide back down, taking him all the way like you're made for it, he feels his mind slipping. It's like he's losing control, just hanging on for dear life, and every little throb around him pulls him closer to his orgasm, it makes him feel dangerously close to delirium. 

He uses one of his hands to grip and knead at the fat of your hip. You let out a high-pitched squeal and clench around him. 

"Baby," you cry out, pretty tears collecting on your lash line. 

He pinches your chin lightly, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your skin, “You have to be quiet, pretty,” you glance up at your boyfriend, “The walls are thin, and you can’t—”

You interrupt him by leaning down and kissing him sloppily. You swirl your tongue around his, feeling the way his cock throbs inside you as he grinds up into you, hitting that spot every single time.

The sloppy kiss you planted on him shuts him up, but only for a second. His lips slide against yours, his tongue swirling in that messy, desperate way that makes your head spin. He groans into your mouth, rough and low, like he’s losing the control he’s trying to hold onto. His hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, holding you in place as you ride him faster, bouncing harder on his cock.

“Look at you,” he grits, pulling back just enough to watch the way your face twists in pleasure.

The way you clench down on him makes him groan, his grip on your neck tightening just a bit as his other hand lands another sharp slap on your ass.

“You like when I fuck you like this, huh?”

You whine against his lips, your body trembling as he thrusts up harder, meeting each of your desperate bounces. You can feel the pressure building inside you, ready to snap. 

His hand slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight, quick circles that make you drop your head forward, laying on your body on top of his. You can’t stop the way you grind down harder on him, chasing that final push.

“Fuck, baby,” you gasp, barely able to push the words out. “I’m gonna—”

And then you’re gone, falling into that mind-numbing pleasure as you come hard around him, your whole body shaking, thighs tightening around his as your orgasm crashes over you. You’re clenching around his cock, the feeling making him curse under his breath, his hips bucking up into you as he chases his release.

He rams up into you, full force, his breath coming out in harsh, irregular pants. “I’m right there,” he groans, “Gonna fill you up, you want that?”

You can barely nod, still lost in the aftershocks of your orgasm, but that’s all he needs. With one final, deep thrust, he comes hard inside you, groaning your name as he spills into you. His hands grip you tight, holding you down on his length as he empties himself into you, his whole-body twitching with the intensity of his release

His hands roam lazily over your back, the touch slow, like he doesn’t want it to end. He’s still inside you, softening, but neither of you make a move to separate.

His lips press a few lazy kisses against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he murmurs. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

You smile weakly, too blissed out to respond, and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. After a few minutes, you reluctantly lift yourself off him, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the loss of connection. Rafe lets out a content sigh, his hands still trailing down your sides as you move.

You flop down next to him, breath still shallow, your head resting on his chest. He immediately pulls you close, his arm wrapping around you, holding you tight.His hand stops moving, resting on your back, and you feel his chest rise as he takes a deep breath.

"My mom left when I was seven," he says, voice oddly quiet, almost hesitant, like he’s not sure where to start. It almost feels like he’s talking to himself more than to you. He’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, one arm slung across his stomach, the other still lightly resting on your waist.

You lift your head, looking up at him, but you stay quiet, giving him space to talk. 

“She just… up and left. Told me she was going to visit some family and never came back.” He lets out a short, bitter laugh, his chest rising and falling against you. “I used to sit at the window for weeks, thinking maybe I’d see her pull up one day. But she didn’t. She never did. And I thought, you know, for a long time, maybe it was me. Like, maybe if I’d been better, she would’ve stayed. I don’t know—kids think dumb shit like that, right?”

You feel your heart tighten at the pain in his voice, and you reach up, brushing your fingertips against his chest. He doesn’t look at you, but you can feel him lean into the touch just a little.

“And Ward… fuck, Ward didn’t know what to do with us. He just buried himself in work, left me to deal with Sarah and Weezie. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I was just a kid myself. I never accepted that responsibility, just kept running away from it.”

You can tell this is hard for him. His hand tightens slightly around your waist, like he needs to feel you’re still there.

“When I was sixteen... I started doing coke. Barry—yeah, that Barry—he used to sell it to me. Just to take the edge off, you know? Numb it all out. Ward’s expectations, Mom being gone, having to pretend like I had my shit together when I didn’t. I didn’t care about anything but getting high.”

He pauses, swallowing hard, his jaw tightening. You can tell this part of his story is the hardest to tell.

“I fucked up a lot. Scared the shit out of my sisters. I’d disappear for days sometimes, come home all strung out, and Sarah—God, Sarah would just look at me like... like she didn’t even know me anymore. Weezie was too young to get it, but Sarah? She knew.” He lets out a shaky breath, “I saw what it was doin’ to them. Saw how Sarah would flinch every time I walked through the door like she was waiting for the next disaster. It got bad—real bad.”

His voice drops even lower, almost like he’s ashamed.

“I didn’t want to be that guy anymore. The one scaring my little sisters, acting like a piece of shit. So I went to rehab. Didn’t tell anyone where I was going, just… left. I needed to get clean, for them. For me, too, I guess.”

He pauses, looking at you now, his blue eyes filled with something vulnerable, something that almost breaks your heart.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get out of it, but I did. Been clean since. That doesn’t mean I’ve figured everything out, though. I’m still... fuck, I’m still a mess most days.”

He’s never opened up to you like this before—not like this.You reach out and run your fingers through his hair, the simple gesture calming him a little. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“You probably didn’t sign up for all this shit,” he says with a half-smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “Me, my addiction, all that.”

He opens his eyes, looking at you like he’s waiting for something—maybe for you to tell him you can’t handle it. But you don’t say that. Instead, you brush your thumb across his cheek, “I signed up for you, Rafe. All of you.”

“I don’t talk about this shit much. Guess I didn’t think anyone cared enough to hear it.”

You move, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can look him the eyes properly,. “I care,” you say, your voice full of conviction. “I care about all of it. I’m here for you.”

He can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

His hand moves to hold your cheek, pulling you down to meet his lips in a slow, tender kiss. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“You have no idea what you mean to me.”

He kisses you again, this time deeper, his hand sliding up the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.

His lips trail from your mouth, pressing lazy kisses down your jaw, over your neck. He shifts, pulling you closer, your body molding perfectly to his. “I don’t deserve you,” he mutters, his lips hovering over your collarbone.

You shake your head, resting a hand on his chest. “You do. You deserve someone who’s gonna be there for you.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

You know this is a side of Rafe not many people see—probably no one else does. 

“Good thing you won’t have to find out.”

“You make it sound so easy,” he murmurs, his lips twitching into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says suddenly, the words spilling out of him in this quiet, almost reverent way.

You can’t help the soft laugh that escapes you as you lean down, pressing a kiss to his nose. “Stop, you’re gonna make me cry.”

He chuckles softly, pulling you closer again, his arms wrapping securely around you. His cheek rests against the top of your head. You’re not going anywhere. And neither is he.

Rafe lets out a disbelieving laugh, running a hand over his face. “I can’t believe your pussy made me trauma dump after sex.”

The crudeness of it makes you roll your eyes.

“Yeah?” You tease lightly, “That what you’re calling it?”

He swallows, feeling that familiar tightness in his throat, but it doesn’t feel as suffocating this time. You’re still here. “No. It’s...you. Just—being you.”

He doesn’t know how to say it any better, doesn’t know how to put into words what it means to finally be seen — not as the perfect son, not as a ticking time bomb — just as Rafe.

But you peck him, simple and sweet.

“I guess I’ll just keep being me.”

The next morning you’re standing in the kitchen, lazily pouring milk over your cereal, still a little giddy from the night before. Rafe left earlier, before anyone was up, whining about how he wished he could stay longer.

As you take a spoon, your sister walks in with Milo perched on her hip, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Monica stops in her tracks, a sly smile creeping across her face.

“Nice hickey you got there,” she says, raising an eyebrow and gesturing toward your neck.

You choke on your cereal like an idiot.

“Uh, it’s just a... a bug bite! A really aggressive bug bite,” you stammer, trying to sound convincing as you awkwardly touch your neck.

Right, you’d forgotten about that after round three this morning.

She laughs, clearly not buying it. “Right. And when am I meeting him? Are you gonna make him sneak through the window again?”

You can’t help but giggle at the mental image. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Monica rolls her eyes, clearly enjoying this way too much. “What’s next? Is he going to slide down a fire escape to avoid us?”

You smirk back, shaking your head. “Only if you promise not to scare him off with your ‘get-to-know-my-sister’ interrogation.”

Milo, oblivious to the banter, tugs at your sister’s hair. “Mommy, can I have a snack?”

“Just finish getting ready for pre-school, buddy!” She turns back to you, still wearing that teasing grin. “Seriously though, when do I get to meet this guy? I need to know if he’s worthy of you.”

You shrug playfully, trying to keep your expression neutral. “We’ll see. Maybe next time he sneaks through the window, you can just happen to be in the living room.”

She gasps in mock horror. “Oh no, imagine the chaos! I might just scare him away on purpose.”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re terrible.”

“Terribly excited! You better let me know when he’s back. I want to be ready to intimidate him.”

“Noted!” You wave her off, still grinning, secretly glad that your sister is supportive—even if she loves to poke fun at you.

For some reason, it doesn’t scare one bit thinking about Rafe meeting Monica and Milo.

[sativariddle]

DEAD GIRL WALKING₊˚⊹ ᰔ

♡ ⋮ wc: 9k+

♡ ⋮ content: mentions of guns and getting shot. if you don’t enjoy my content, there’s no need for you to stick around, i’m not responsible for what you choose to engage with.

♡ ⋮ summary: you’re shot during a supply run and wake up in a stranger’s safehouse, stitched up by the same man who pulled the trigger. anger erupts as you learn you’re too injured to leave. jenny, who tagged along, leaves to find your group while you’re forced to recover under the watchful (and annoyingly attractive) eye of your would’ve been killer.

╰› m.list.⌇walking dead au.⌇my au’s.

“THERE’S A WALKER!” theodore burst into the safety house, breathless and shouting, his hands tight around his rifle. the group of five froze. lorenzo glanced at the weapon, raising a brow as if to ask, why aren’t you doing something about it? without a word, theo held up the rifle and tilted it, revealing an empty chamber: completely out of ammo.

it was breakfast, or at least, what passed for breakfast these days. the metallic smell of old canned food, and the soft clatter of spoons scraping against tin filled the quiet. pansy sat cross legged near the stove, her thin brows furrowed in thought as she rationed out what little was left.

for the past couple of months, she’d managed to stretch their food supply using the cans she scavenged on the way to what they now called the safety house. it wasn’t much, but it had kept them fed.

but now, the stash was thinning out. too fast. the pantry shelves had become bony. the days of handing each person their own can of beans or soup ended. now, a single can was pried open, its scopes divided as evenly as possible among the group. just enough to keep the hunger at bay, not enough to satisfy.

there was silence, before mattheo reached for his own gun and slid a fresh round into the chamber. he locked eyes with theo, giving him a silent look that clearly meant, where is it? theodore didn’t speak. he just turned and jogged out the door, rifle still clutched in his hands.

that was all it took. the rest of the group followed without hesitation. mattheo sighed under his breath: he knew damn well they wouldn’t stay put even if he shouted at them to get the fuck back inside. they were too bored. however, theo had said it was just one walker.

one. with any luck, it’d be quick, and not as big of a mess it could’ve been.

"are you... are you sure?" pansy's voice came tense as she hurried after mattheo and theodore. her boots crunched over the gravel strewn path just behind them. pansy had every right to ask: this place, this safety house, had been their shelter. a rundown two story cabin tucked into the tree line, high up on a hill that most walkers never managed to climb. the landscape grew too jagged, too unstable near the top, and more often than not, the dead lost their footing and tumbled back down before getting anywhere close. no walkers had breached it: ever.

that was the point. that was the hope.

theodore didn’t slow his stride. “are you questioning my vision?” he snapped, glancing over his shoulder with irritation sharpening his words. mattheo reached out and smacked the back of theodore’s head with an open palm. not hard, but firm enough to make a point. “watch your fuckin’ tone,” he muttered.

theodore scowled but didn’t respond. pansy blinked, but didn’t shrink away. she’d been through too much with them to be discouraged by a bad attitude.

mattheo shot her an apologetic glance. she wasn’t just some tag along. pansy had stitched their wounds with shivering hands. she’d turned dented cans and half rotted root vegetables into meals that kept them alive. she was the closest thing they had to a medic, a cook, and on some days, a voice of reason. mattheo understood the mood. the wear and tear of running for months had started to show on all of them. everyone was thinner now, shadows hollowing beneath their eyes. the house had been tense lately, snapping tempers, silence stretched for far too long. hunger didn't just eat at your stomach; it ate at your mind.

and still, the idea that a walker had made it all the way up here? it didn't sit right. not with anyone. but if theodore had seen something, they had to check. doubt could get them killed.

“let’s just keep moving,” mattheo said, more to calm the rising disagreement than anything else. “we’ll check it out. if it’s nothing, it’s nothing. if it’s not... we’ll handle it.”

pansy didn’t say a word.

she just stood there for a moment, shoulders drawn slightly inward, lips pressed into a thin line. her silence was louder than any argument, and it caught mattheo off guard. she didn’t glare, didn’t curse, didn’t remind theodore of everything she’d done for them: patching up wounds, cooking with almost nothing, keeping them sane in a world that had gone to hell. no fire in her voice. no bite in her response. she gave the smallest shake of her head, barely more than a breath, and turned around, walking back toward the safety house without another glance.

mattheo watched her go, something tightening in his chest. she used to be the first to snap back, especially when someone talked to her like that. she never took shit, not even from him. there were nights she’d argue with her whole chest, fists on her hips and eyes blazing because someone had forgotten to fix the bandages or wasted water on washing a shirt instead of drinking.

that fire had helped keep them going. it meant she still cared. but this time, there was nothing. just a tired shake of her head. mattheo turned back toward the treeline, jaw clenched. things had changed. too many near deaths, too many cold nights, too little food.

theo sighed, “now i’m the asshole.” mattheo didn’t even look at him, he just gave a small nod. “yeah,” he said quietly. “you are.” the wind rustled through the trees. behind them, the screen door creaked shut as pansy disappeared inside.

normally, theodore would've had something to say. whether it’d be sarcastic, defensive or a muttered insult, but this time, he stayed quiet. he just jerked his chin toward the edge of the woods behind the barn, brows furrowed in that focused way he got when things felt real. “walker was coming from over there,” he said. “must’ve cut behind the barn.”

mattheo followed his line of sight. the barn sat at the back of the property forgotten: its wood warped and splintered from rain, the red paint now faded. they’d cleared it out weeks ago. no supplies. no place for anything to hide. if the walker had ducked behind it, they’d have a clear view. no excuses.

“right,” mattheo said, popping open the rifle chamber and sliding a round into place with a click. he moved to follow, boots crunching softly over the dry grass. “you’ve got incredible luck, huh? ammo runs dry the exact second a real threat shows up.”

theo let out a humorless scoff and lifted his empty rifle, tapping it lightly against his shoulder. “you’re tellin’ me,” he muttered.

riddle made a soft noise in response, a kind of laugh and sigh: but then he froze. movement. so quick he could’ve missed it. it wasn’t the wind, and it sure as hell wasn’t a bird. his instincts kicked in before thought did. he spun toward the motion with a snap of his body, raising his rifle in one swift motion. the barrel leveled in the direction of the barn’s edge, and with a flick of his wrist, he chambered a round, the click-clack sound echoing slightly.

right eye closed. left eye peering through the scope: the forest and barn blurred around the circular view through the lens. dust motes floated in the sunlight, snipping through the trees like golden blades.

a shadow shifted, barely visible, but it was there. something hunched. waiting. mattheo adjusted the angle, finger hovering just over the trigger. but what made mattheo’s breath hitch, what really made his stomach twist with confusion, was the sight that came into focus through the scope.

not one walker. two. they stood just at the far edge of the barn, partly hidden by its shadow, their forms jerky and uneven. at first glance, they looked like the infected: slumped posture, slow steps, heads low. classic walkers.

mattheo’s instincts didn’t hesitate. “wait…” theodore’s voice was a small whisper beside him. but mattheo’s focus stayed locked, jaw set. there wasn’t time for second guessing. he clicked off the safety and squeezed the trigger.

the rifle cracked through the silence like a whip, a deafening shot that echoed down the hillside.

one of the figures dropped instantly, collapsing to their knees with a strangled cry. not the usual guttural growl. not the mindless noise of the undead. no, this was pain. real pain. they clutched their arm, blood soaking through their sleeve, fingers curling tightly around the wound. the cry that followed wasn’t inhuman. it was unmistakably human. mattheo froze.

the second figure, also not moving like a walker at all, lunged toward the injured one and screamed, “NO!” a voice. not a moan. not the rasp of the dead.

a fuckin’ voice. mattheo’s arms lowered automatically, rifle still warm in his hands. his mouth went dry: these weren’t walkers. not even close. he stepped back, stunned to his core. theodore stood beside him, equally still, eyes wide. “that… that wasn’t a walker,” he said, more to himself than anyone else.

⌗ ( a few moments before. )

“what did i say about eating the food before the twins?” daisy’s voice snapped through your eardrums. before you could react, she snatched the protein bar straight out of your hands. your fingers instinctively clenched around the empty space where it had just been, stomach clenching tighter than before. you’d barely peeled back the wrapper, just enough to catch the scent of chocolate and oats.

it had been days since anything tasted remotely real, and now, not even that small bite would be yours. you stared at the ground, heat rising behind your eyes. not from embarrassment, but from hunger and frustration. so hungry. it had been chomping at you all morning, a grumble from your stomach loud enough to make your thoughts scatter.

it chewed at your focus, made your limbs feel heavier, your temper shorter. patience was already hanging by a thread, and even that, it seemed, was something you weren’t allowed to have.

“they’re taking too long,” you muttered, pushing yourself up from the log you’d been sitting on. the wood creaked beneath your weight, and your legs felt heavier than they should have. dust clung to your pants, your fingers dirty and sore from the last supply run. you didn’t look at daisy when you spoke. you didn’t need to. she had that tone again: the one she always used when she was playing leader. as if she’d been appointed.

“i said,” she replied, louder this time, “they’re going to eat after. you know, when they’re done playing.” she bent down, sealing the food containers like they were treasures. you watched her, jaw set like she was the only one keeping the group from spiraling into chaos.

the sound of laughter from the twins somewhere beyond the tree line made you roll your eyes, their games echoing faintly like spirits of a world that no longer existed. you resented them a little, not because they were playing, but because they could. because no one was snatching bars out of their hands.

you clenched your fists and looked away, not saying another word. you knew better than to argue with daisy, at least, not today. not when hunger was making everyone more brittle than usual. and especially not when she was convinced her word meant order in a world where almost nothing made sense anymore.

“that’s dangerous,” you say, voice pointed as you dug into the side pocket of your shorts. fingers curling around the crinkled wrapper of a protein bar, warm from your body heat. you didn’t look up, but you could already feel it: the moment the protein wrapper gave the slightest rustle, daisy would hear it, and she’d be on you like clockwork, marching over with that usual tight lipped expression.

sure enough, you barely got the wrapper open before you heard her footsteps crunching over the gravel.

“a walker could easily sneak up on them,” you continued, peeling the wrapper back slowly. “especially if you’re here criticizing me for not waiting to eat, instead of being over there, you know, actually keeping an eye on them.” you motioned toward the woods, where the kids’ laughter screened faintly through the trees.

daisy’s sigh was loud the moment she saw the bar in your hand, her shoulders tensing like she was preparing to dive into a speech. “yeah, well… aiden is with them,” she said quickly, just before reaching out and snatching the protein bar straight from your grip.

you froze. not because of the bar, your stomach had already given up the idea of food hours ago: but because of the mention of aiden. you didn’t say anything, but she saw the way your posture shifted, how your hand twitched slightly in response. it was small, nearly invisible, but daisy had always been the type to pounce on the smallest crack.

“he’s been helping around a lot more lately,” she added casually, already pulling out a ziplock bag from her pack like this was all part of some routine. she wasn’t done. “seems like he’s trying to get stuff off his mind,” her tone slid into that overly sweet, singsong she used whenever she was about to stir the pot. “or someone.”

you blinked once, then again, eyes shifting away before you could stop the reaction.

that was all she needed. her lips curved ever so slightly into a victorious smile. that was what daisy did: she didn’t argue, she played games. poked, prodded, needled her way under your skin just to prove she could. her real satisfaction came not from winning, but from making you flinch. you looked down at your empty hand, where the protein bar had been. hunger was one thing, but this was the kind of hunger daisy fed on.

“have your fucking protein bars,” you muttered under your breath. words meant more for yourself than anyone else. you turned away from daisy and stalked toward the white plastic table where the group usually laid out the food supplies. the table was already stained from weeks of use: faded marks from cans, crumbs scattered from meals, fingerprints smudged across the surface from the twins.

you grabbed your rifle from where it leaned against the side, slinging it over your shoulder with ease. your fingers moved quickly, snatching up a few rounds of ammo, sliding them into your pocket. the motions were automatic now.

as you adjusted the strap and checked the weight, you muttered just loud enough for daisy to hear: “tell aiden to stop sharing other people’s business.” you spun on your heel and started walking, each step grinding down onto the dry forest floor. leaves and twigs cracked under your boots, the sun baking the dirt until it was more dust than soil. the rifle bounced lightly against your back with each step. sweat clung to the back of your neck, sticky beneath the collar of your shirt, and the heat of the summer sun felt like it was trying to cook you from the outside in. not that it compared to the heat you were already carrying inside, burning frustration, hunger, and daisy’s ability to push every single one of your buttons.

“can i come?”

you glanced over your shoulder. “you talk?” you said dryly, catching sight of jenny hovering a few paces back. she was always quiet, always watching.

before she could open her mouth again, you added firmly, “and no.” jenny let out a soft grunt: more annoyance than surprise. you didn’t blame her for asking. shit, you almost admired her for trying, especially with how things were. but this wasn’t the time. not with daisy breathing down everyone’s neck like she was the second coming of leader and stomachs growling. especially not when any wrong move would get pinned on you, as always.

daisy had a gift for that. twisting the narrative, turning glances into guilt. she walked like she was born to lead, as if her voice mattered more. aiden, her older brother, was more reserved. but even he seemed to encircle her. and then there were the twins, barely seven years old, all jumpy, picked up along the way. just like you. just like jenny.

a group stitched together by circumstance, not choice. people who had nothing in common except that they were still breathing. and somehow, you were always the problem in daisy’s eyes.

you adjusted the rifle, wiping the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand as you pushed deeper into the woods. you didn’t know where you were going yet, just away. away from the arguing, the power games, the constant ache in your gut. you just needed space. and maybe, if you were lucky, something that involves shooting.

you never stayed in one place for long. none of you did. there wasn’t anywhere safe enough to settle, not really. even when it felt safe, it was only a matter of time before something pushed you back on the road: a noise in the distance. tracks that weren’t yours.

so you moved. always moving.

jenny walked a few paces behind you as you made your way toward the woods. you and her didn’t talk much. actually, talking was a stretch. most of the time, she’d ask something, and you’d reply with a grunt or a single word before wandering off to check in with aiden or head out on your own.

that was the rhythm. she never seemed to take it personally. but today, she wasn’t giving up so easily. “please, please, please,” jenny begged, jogging a little to catch up. her ginger hair was pulled into a high ponytail that bounced with every step, and her cheeks were already flushed from the heat. “i’ll stay quiet the whole time i promise! or—or i could be your armor holder. like, when you ask for ammo, i’ll hand it over lightning fast! i’ll even save you a protein bar later!”

you didn’t answer right away. you just kept walking, your boots crunching over sun baked leaves and dry twigs. the path ahead curved toward a familiar spot, a place you’d checked before. it wasn’t much, but these days, even a squirrel felt like a luxury.

daisy never let anyone else leave with you, claiming it was “too dangerous” or that “splitting up is stupid.” which meant you always hunted alone. no one to talk to. no one to watch your back. it wasn’t that you didn’t want the company. truth be fuckin’ told, anything was better than the silence that trailed after you. but having jenny with you meant one thing: if daisy found out, you’d never hear the end of it. she’d start with the lectures, then the glares, and finally that performative disappointment she put out: you didn’t have the energy for that today.

“and get yelled at by the big bad boss?” you muttered, finally glancing at jenny over your shoulder. “no thanks.”

jenny grinned a little, despite your answer. she’d heard you call daisy the big bad boss before: always with that mocking twist in your voice. it had become an inside joke, even if neither of you ever said it out loud.

jenny fell into step beside you anyway, hands shoved into the pockets of her big cargo pants, walking like maybe if she didn’t say anything else, you’d just let her stay. you didn’t tell her to go back. not yet. and she seemed to understand that the silence between you wasn’t a rejection, it was just how you were.

“i’ll just tell her i wanted to come,” jenny said flatly, her converse crunching over dry leaves as she kept pace behind you. even if you’d wanted to send her back, it was already too late. you both knew it. you’d started walking, and the forest had swallowed the trail behind you like it never existed.

“and anyway,” she added, gesturing behind her with a swing of her arm, “i don’t remember which way we came from. so if you want me to get bit and die out here, then fine. totally your call.”

the trees were dense here, their trunks tall and thin, releasing long streaks of shadow across the path of leaves. a breeze rustled above, stirring branches across your skin. you kept your eyes ahead, one hand steady on the strap of your rifle, the other brushing aside a low hanging branch.

“whatever,” you muttered. “if you die, i’m killing you.”

“that doesn’t even make sense,” jenny replied. you could tell by the way she started to walk a little faster, by the way her shoulders eased just slightly, that she was glad to be there. glad you hadn’t told her to turn back.

you smirked, finally glancing over your shoulder. “actually it does. you die, you turn into a walker. then i kill you again. basic logic.”

she rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. rather, she narrowed them in that signature jenny way. her gaze snapped forward, locking onto something ahead. “last one to that tree is a rotten egg,” she called, already swerving off the trail. she pointed to a tree standing alone at the top of a grassy slope, a massive oak, wider than the others, its roots exposed and curling out like knotted fingers gripping the earth: sunlight over its branches, causing a shine on the hill as though the world wasn’t falling apart all around you.

you sighed, not bothering to hide your annoyance. “m’not really in the mood…” you started, trailing off as you slowed just a bit. jenny had stopped just long enough to look back at you, her expression faltering.

normally, that wouldn’t mean much. you were used to brushing people off. used to moving on. but something about the way she looked right then: disappointed, stuck with you. maybe it was because daisy always shut her down, always played the responsible one and rarely let jenny breathe, let alone have fun. or maybe, in a world where everything felt like it was falling apart, she just wanted to feel normal again for five goddamn seconds.

jenny’s shoulders dropped, and she stared at the ground, kicking a rock with the toe of her boot.

you let out a breath and shifted your grip on your rifle strap. with a push of your legs, you took off running. “hey!” jenny shouted, laughing behind you. “cheater!”

you didn’t respond. you just ran.

the wind pushed past your face as you sprinted, dirt and leaves kicking up beneath your boots. the hill was steeper than it looked, and the burn in your legs was immediate: but it felt good. real. the oak loomed closer, its shadow stretching toward you like a giant hand. jenny’s laughter echoed behind you, full of breath and joy.

there were no walkers. no worry. just footsteps. just air in your lungs and sunlight on your face. just the sound of two people trying to outrun the darkness by racing toward a tree.

“that’s not fair!” jenny took off after you. you could hear the beat of her sneakers hitting the earth, closing the distance between you. she was catching up fast. “should’ve at least said ready, set—mmph!” her sentence was cut short by the sound of impact: a thud followed by the rustle of leaves and a short, pained grunt. you stopped dead in your tracks. instinct overrode everything else. without hesitation, you spun around, your hand whipping to the grip of your gun and drawing it up, the barrel sweeping until it landed on the source of the noise.

but there was nothing. no walkers. only jenny, awkwardly in the dirt, her palms pressed into the mud and her breath shallow with the wind knocked out of her. you lowered your weapon, your grip still tight as adrenaline pulsed through your veins. your eyes widened slightly, every muscle still locked in that second of panic, the type that never fades when survival is your every day.

“you fuckin’ scared me,” you muttered, forcing out a breath through your nose as your gaze flicked to the treeline. nothing moved.

you walked toward her in quick strides, boots sinking slightly in the ground with each step. jenny was already pushing herself up, her face pinched in embarrassment and annoyance as she wiped her hands on her jacket. mud clung to her knees and the side of her leg where she’d hit the ground, soil and leaf sticking to her clothing.

even with careful footing, one wrong step was all it took: jenny had been running, her converse slipping against rocks and wet leaves. here, even the ground itself could hurt you. the rocks were sharp enough to slice open skin through thin material.

your eyes darted around once more. the trees loomed close together, their branches clicking in the wind. it wasn’t just the physical danger that made your skin crawl. it was the silence. the waiting. the paranoia that slithered beneath your thoughts. out here, every sound mattered. every leaf crunch could mean something more.

you reached jenny, and she looked up at you with a faint wince, brushing more dirt from her arms. “i’m fine,” she muttered, though her pride was clearly more bruised than her body.

you reached down to help jenny up. and by ‘help,’ it really just meant hooking two fingers into the back of her shirt, lifting with just enough force to get her moving while very purposefully keeping your palms away from the mud smeared across her arms and torso. the last thing you needed was to be dragging half the forest with you.

jenny immediately caught on, a sly smirk curled across her lips as she stood, brushing herself off with slowness. “thank you,” she said sweetly. and then, before you could step back or react, she lunged forward and hugged you.

not just a polite hug, either. she wrapped her arms around you like you were her long lost sibling, pressing herself against you with the full weight of her muddy clothes. the mud that had soaked into her jacket, smeared across her knees, and ground into her sleeves now bled into your own clothes.

“stop!” you recoiled as you pushed her back with both hands. it was too late. mud had already transferred in wet patches onto your chest and arms. you looked down in disgust, exhaling sharply through your nose.

jenny was already laughing, wild laughter like a kid who knew exactly how far she could push before getting tackled. without a word, you crouched, scooping up a handful of mud from the ground.

it was cold and chunky, squishing between your fingers as you packed it just enough to give it weight. then you stood, took a short step forward, and launched it. the muddy ball hit her dead center in the chest with a splat, flecks of it bursting across her jacket, neck, and unfortunately: her face. she tilted back with a sharp gasp, one hand immediately swiping at her cheek while the other instinctively moved to her hair. but it was no use. “ew!” she coughed, her lips puckering in disgust as she started spitting. “pt—ptt! gross! it got in my mouth!”

you couldn’t help but laugh this time, the sound bursting from your chest before you tried to stifle it. jenny wiped at her lips with the back of her sleeve, her other hand already reaching for the nearest pile of mud.

“okay,” she huffed. “you asked for it.”

you didn’t wait to see what kind of revenge she had planned. you sprinted up the hill, boots slipping slightly against the surface of the muddy path. rocks scraped beneath your shoes, and stray branches clawed at your legs as you surged forward. you clutched the rifle strap tight against your chest to keep it from swinging wildly, the familiar pull against your shoulder.

every exhale forced through your mouth as your legs pumped, one foot in front of the other, faster, always faster.

behind you, you could hear the chaos of jenny’s laughter, you didn’t dare look back. the only rule of a mud war: never give your opponent a clear shot.

the wind tugged at your hair, strands whipping gently around your face as you ran up the hill, boots crunching against the patchy, overgrown trail. as you reached the top, your eyes landed on something nestled halfway down the other side: an old barn, sun bleached, sitting crooked in the tall grass like it had been forgotten.

your pace slowed. usually, you only came across places like this when you were with the full group: daisy always a few steps ahead, keeping an eye on the twins who never seemed to stay in one spot for more than a minute, and aiden trailing at the back, always watching for trouble. jenny never wanted much to do with the searching or the waiting; she’d usually peel off without a word, pretending to be interested in the rocks under her converse or the trees lining the path.

even if the group never expected much from these barns, they always seemed to hold something: a few cans of food just past expiration but still edible, tools rusted but useable, things that meant survival could extend a little longer.

with that in mind, you turned your head just enough to glance over your shoulder. jenny was moving slowly, just a small figure now against the wide field, but still close enough to see where you were headed. you let yourself slow down more, your chest rising and falling as you tried to even your breathing. your shoulders sagged slightly, the adrenaline of the hill fading as curiosity started to pull you toward the barn.

there was something about it, maybe the way the light caught the edges of the broken roof, or how the door hung slightly ajar.

something flickered in your peripheral vision. a sudden movement: too quick to register properly. your body reacted before your mind caught up, head snapping to the side, eyes scanning the shadows just beyond the barn. but there was nothing. no one. just the empty space and your own breath echoing louder in your ears.

you exhaled hard through your nose, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. it was happening more often now, these little moments where it felt like someone was watching, like a presence was just out there. but there hadn’t been anyone. not in months. not beyond your group.

you kept moving forward: barns always had something inside. and something was always better than nothing.

the barn was exactly as filthy as you expected, maybe worse. it’s wooden cover, grayed with age, creaked slightly as the wind blew past. you hadn’t really anticipated finding a barn out here, let alone anything useful. inside, however, was mostly empty. no tools, no crates. just old flattened hay scattered across the dirt floor and the stench of animal waste: you stepped through the entry.

the only light coming in is through the uneven cracks in the barn's siding. it made strange patterns on the floor, strips of sunlight that looked almost like bars.

then came the sound of footsteps behind you. you turned fast, gun already raised, finger ghosting over the trigger. but then the figure stepped into one of those thin stakes of light, and you saw jenny, hands raised in surrender. her eyes wide, face pale with fear. she stared at the barrel of your gun like it had grown teeth.

“that’s the second time you’ve pointed that thing at me,” she said.

you lowered the weapon instantly. “instinct,” you said, turning away before you could see more of her expression. guilt was a luxury you couldn’t afford right now. jenny let out a shaky breath and followed a few steps behind, muttering under it. “yeah, well, your instinct is giving me heart pulsations.” she brought two fingers to her neck, checking her pulse. “yup. beating like a damn drum. thanks for that.”

“welcome,” you muttered back, adding a flicker of cheer to your tone as you crouched near a pile of hay. you reached out, letting the dry strands slide through your fingers. it felt crude: off. like it had been untouched for years. the barn hadn’t seen life in a long time. no animals. no people.

jenny watched from a distance, nose scrunched in disgust. “what are you even doing?” she asked finally, clearly impatient. you resisted the first response that bubbled up: shut up and let me work, because that sounded too much like something daisy would say. “trying to find clues,” you said instead, standing and brushing your hands off on your shorts. “maybe a sign that someone’s been here recently. something. anything.” you didn’t say the rest. you didn’t say maybe we’re not alone out here. you didn’t say maybe we’re not the last ones still breathing.

hope was fragile. saying it out loud always made it feel more breakable. jenny rolled her eyes, already turning to leave. “well, good luck with that,” she said, waving a hand as she backed out toward the barn doors. “i’ll be outside. smells like shit in here.”

you glanced down, then pointed toward the far end of the barn where the floor was caked with something dark. “there is shit, jenny. that’s probably why.”

she looked, and the second her eyes landed on the pile of dried poop, her face twisted and she doubled over slightly, gagging. one hand clutched her stomach like the sight alone had caused physical pain.

“yeah. i’m out of here,” jenny mumbled as she spun on her heel and stomped toward the barn’s exit, converse crunching through old hay. you stayed behind for a moment longer, eyes sweeping the space one last time, hesitant to leave without being sure. but there was nothing. no sign of recent life, just the reek of rot and shit, the long abandoned smell that clung to barns like this. if anyone had ever passed through, it hadn’t been recently.

with a soft exhale, you followed jenny out, the disappointment settling in your chest.

the moment you stepped past the entry, the difference in air hit you like a wave. it wasn’t exactly fresh, but at least it didn’t feel like you were breathing through filth. beside you, jenny let out a dramatic sigh, like she’d just resurfaced from deep underwater. “god, i swear i was holding my breath the entire time in there.”

you kept walking a few paces ahead, scanning the tree line automatically, the barn already fading from your mind like it had never mattered. “let’s head back,” you said finally. “there’s nothing here.”

“okay, okay,” she replied. “let me at least tie my shoes first.” she dropped to one knee in the tall grass, fumbling at the laces of her converse while you stood there waiting, the wind stirring faintly through the field. you gave her three seconds. that was all the patience you had. then, without a word, you turned and started walking again.

“can’t you just wai—NO!”

people always said that when your ears ring for a long time, it means someone’s talking about you: dragging your name through the mud, behind your back, maybe spitting out words that sound nothing like the person you think you are. but as the high pitched shriek echoed through your skull, you realized how wrong that old saying was. because this ringing wasn’t some petty gossip: this was the sound of getting shot.

it didn’t register right away, not the pain, not the panic. just that noise in your ear like a fire alarm pressed against your brain.

your body caught up. your arm felt wrong: numb and heavy. the pain wasn’t strong at first, but faint. like when your foot falls asleep, except worse. this wasn’t just tingling: it burned. as if thousands of tiny ants chewed just beneath the surface of your flesh, each bite lighting up your nerves in waves. you wanted to move, to breathe, to scream, but every motion set off a new gush of torture.

you stayed still, not out of strategy but because moving felt like it would break you.

your vision began to blur, slipping sideways. everything lost its harshness, like the lens of your life was fogging over. it was like someone handed you a pair of glasses, but not before smearing the lenses with their breath, leaving you to peer through a blur that only made everything harder to see.

you blinked hard, tried to focus, and that’s when you saw jenny. her face hovered above you, twisted with panic, lips moving, but her voice was muffled. it was like she was yelling at you from underwater, as if you were floating somewhere just beneath the surface and she was sinking fast, too far to reach. you tried to ask when did i fall? but the words wouldn’t come. you hadn’t even realized you were on the ground until you saw the dirt against your cheek, the grass pressed under your arm, blood soaking into the soil.

when had that happened? when had jenny knelt beside you? when had two strangers appeared behind her, standing over you both? were they the ones who pulled the trigger? were they the ones who'd been silently watching?

your heart raced, but your limbs stayed heavy, body sluggish and sinking further into the dirt like it was swallowing you whole. consciousness pulled at you, tried to keep you tethered, but it was getting harder to resist the exhaustion creeping into your bones. you wanted to say something, to tell jenny you were okay, or at least that you would be.

that you just needed a second to close your eyes. just a second. but your mouth wouldn’t move. your body was no longer listening. still, as the edges of your vision turned to shadow, you managed to latch onto one thought: maybe this’ll teach her to tie her damn shoes on time.

you could feel the grin trying to form on your lips, the muscles barely twitching. but the darkness came too fast, like a surge crashing over your head. and then your eyes closed. entirely.

“NO! YOU KILLED HER! I SWEAR TO GOD—just wait until aiden hears about this!” the words cracked through the mushiness in your mind like thunder. you were barely conscious, your body heavy and uncooperative, your eyes glued shut as if someone had stitched them closed.

another voice cut in: “awww, you hear that, malfoy? we found you a sister for life in the apocalypse. that’s what it does to us, it brings people together.” there was a collective groan and a smack, the sound of palm on skin. you didn’t have to see it to know someone had slapped him, probably to shut him up.

a new voice speaks, however, more serious: “enzo, take everyone else and let the motherfuckers who actually know what they’re doing handle this. your jokes aren’t needed right now. this is serious.”

you weren’t even fully awake and they were already arguing. you blinked slowly, eyes dragging open. the light stung. everything was washed in a strange way: shapes moved in front of you, doodles you couldn’t quite place yet. one… two… maybe four people passed by and slipped through the doorway. you watched them leave, not entirely sure if you were dreaming.

am i dead?

it seemed like a fair question. for a second, you really believed it, believed maybe you had finally died, and this was the waiting room to something else. maybe god, or whatever version of him still existed, had decided to scoop you up in some moment of mercy. maybe this was what peace looked like. but then your vision cleared just enough, and you saw jenny. she was crouched beside you, hair a mess, face smudged with dirt, but her smile was wide and bright and absolutely real. her eyes welled with tears the second she saw you blinking.

“you’re alive!” she gasped, then launched forward without hesitation, wrapping her arms tightly around you.

yeah. sadly, you were still alive. the aching in your body proved it, especially in your right arm: you turned your head, just barely, and caught sight of the bandages. they’d dug the bullet out. a dark stain had bled through the dressing already, but the wound was wrapped in clean cloth and held in place with medical tape. someone had done their best to patch you up.

“okay, steady on the hug…” you managed to croak, grimacing slightly as jenny squeezed a little too hard around your shoulder. she pulled back, brushing a tear off her cheek and giving you a sheepish smile.

you adjusted your weight slightly on the bed, or what felt like a bed, though it was probably just a mattress on the floor. either way, you finally noticed there was someone else still in the room.

he stood leaning against the far wall, arms crossed. his hair was a mess of dark curls that looked like he’d run his hands through it a hundred times. his skin was tan, jaw shadowed with scruff, and his eyes, all deep and chocolate brown, locked onto yours the second you looked at him.

he had a few scars on his face, one across his cheekbone and another slicing just under his lip. but they didn’t take away from his looks. god no, if anything, they added to them.

your lips parted slightly, without realizing it. it had been months, maybe longer, since you’d seen anyone who looked like that.

fuck, you thought, how is anyone allowed to look like that in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse? beside you, jenny let out a knowing whisper. “oh, please.” you blinked, eyes still locked on him, barely able to look away. she leaned in, her words like ice slicing through your dazed admiration. “he’s the one who shot you, for fuck’s sake.”

your entire body tensed. the softness in your expression vanished. “what?” you hissed, turning to her, your voice suddenly harsh despite the weakness in your limbs. your gaze snapped back to him. the butterflies in your stomach were instantly replaced by confusion. “him?” you whispered, more to yourself than to her, but the poison in your tone was impossible to miss. the stranger didn’t flinch, didn’t move from the wall. he just watched you, like he was expecting a reaction. maybe even welcoming it.

your nose flares slightly as the heat rose to your cheeks had nothing to do with attraction anymore. you hadn’t seen who shot you, everything had gone numb the second the bullet tore into your flesh, but now, with that crashing into you like a second blow, it made sense.

“yes!” jenny hissed, just inches from your ear. “asshole had me thinking you were dead! he told everyone to leave the room while he took the bullet out, like he was the only one qualified or something.”

you blinked at her, trying to process the image of him: the guy leaning against the wall like he didn’t just put a hole through your arm, digging around inside you like some back alley surgeon.

jenny looked flustered, her hands fluttering slightly in her lap like she didn’t know what to do with them. you could just picture the awkwardness of it all too: the silence, her pacing in the hallway outside, trying to peer through cracks in the door without looking like she cared too much. the thought struck you then: even after all this time, after all the fire and blood and chaos, jenny was still jenny.

still shy.

still the girl you and aiden had found trembling in a collapsed drugstore two towns over, clutching a crowbar like it would keep her safe from the world. you’d dragged her out, literally, when she refused to move, and even after saving her life, she’d barely spoken above a whisper for weeks. she was scared back then, like a deer always on the edge of bolting. and while she’d grown tougher since — who hadn’t? that softness never quite left her.

actually, now that you thought about it, this was probably the most she’d ever spoken in one go.

your brow furrowed. “wait, he took out the bullet?” you whispered, eyes flicking back toward the guy. “and you let him? after he shot me?!”

your voice rose just slightly at the end, the outrage slipping through the pain. jenny winced and quickly leaned closer, trying to shush you, though her expression said she wasn’t exactly proud of the decision either. “what was i supposed to do?!” she snapped under her breath. “i panicked! there was blood everywhere, and you were unconscious, they were the only people nearby with supplies and actual hands that weren’t shaking!” she exhaled hard, brushing her bangs out of her face. “sorry for immediately saying yes to the first people who offered help, i didn’thave time to interview anyone!”

you opened your mouth to argue, something about loyalty, about how if the situation were reversed you would’ve found a way to treat her yourself, how you wouldn’t trust the person who pulled the trigger to also be the one digging around inside her. but the words didn’t come.

because truthfully… she wasn’t wrong.

if she hadn’t accepted their help, you’d probably be dead. you could still feel how close it had been, your body limp, heat draining from your skin, the ringing in your ears like someone had flipped the switch on your life and you were slipping away. and someone, apparently him, had brought you back.

you swallowed, shifting your gaze again to the guy in the corner. he hadn’t moved. just stood there, watching the two of you, like he already knew what you were saying and didn’t feel the need to defend himself. you let out a slow breath, your anger simmering into something more conflicted. still frustrated. still sore — literally and figuratively.

but also… aware that you owed your life to the same person who nearly took it.

“i’m still mad,” you muttered to jenny. “yeah,” she said, nodding. “but at least you’re alive to be mad.” touché.

the room calmed into silence. you and jenny both sat there, quiet now, until you remembered one important detail: he was still in the room.“done talking like i’m not standing right here?” the guy asked. of course he had to have a sharp mouth. you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, but barely. “you shot me,” you said flatly, staring him down like that single fact was all the conversation needed.

mattheo exhaled slowly through his nose and gave you a small nod. “yeah. i apologize.”

“it hurts,” you added, as if he somehow hadn’t figured that part out yet. “that tends to happen when you’ve just been shot, yeah.” he replied without missing a beat. the delivery was so quick, that jenny almost let out a tiny puff of air, on the edge of a laugh, but she clamped it down fast when she caught the way your eyes flicked toward her.

you turned your attention back to mattheo, your stare narrowing. “what happens if i were to shoot you back then, hm?” you asked. “i’d ask what we are afterward,” he said casually. you didn’t know what pissed you off more, the fact that he had an answer ready, or the fact that you had no response. your mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out. just silence. first time in a long time that words failed you.

so instead, you said, “where’s my gun?” your eyes swept the room again, still no sign of it. the place was nicer than you expected, all things considered. worn wooden floors, patched up windows, an actual bed beneath you. someone had taken the time to make it feel lived in, not just survived in.

“why?” he asked, a slight curve tugging at the corner of his lips, somewhere between a smirk and a challenge. “gonna shoot me back for payback?” you shook your head slowly. “i’m not you. am i?”

that wiped the smirk off his face. just for a second. his jaw shifted like he was grinding down a reaction, then he huffed and looked away, giving you the smallest of nods.

“my friends are keeping it safe,” he said.

“safe,” you repeated, the word rolling around your mouth with a bitter taste. safe from what? or more like, from who? you didn’t like not having it. you didn’t like the idea of being unarmed when daisy and the rest of the group were likely still tracking your last location, probably thinking you’d be dead.

you glanced over at jenny. “get it back. we’re leaving soon.” she gave a hesitant nod and started moving toward the door, already on her feet when his voice stopped her.

“you can’t leave,” he said, stepping forward. “your injury is bad. you need to let it heal.”

the audacity. the absolute audacity of him to stand there like some self assigned officer, telling you that you couldn’t leave, after he’d been the reason you were bleeding in the first place. it lit something under your skin, that frustration that had nothing to do with the wound in your arm.

“as if we’re staying here. with you,” you pushed yourself up, trying to swing your legs off the edge of the bed. but the second you shifted your weight, a bolt of pain shot through your shoulder, slicing down your side and stealing the breath from your lungs.

with a low hiss, you collapsed back against the mattress, your arm pulsing, teeth clenched to keep from cursing out loud. mattheo shrugged a little as if he expected that exact outcome. “i don’t like the idea either, trust me,” he said. “but pansy insisted. especially after… well. shooting you. she's a stickler for cleaning up after our messes.”

“pansy?”

“she’s our friend,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “and the closest thing to a medic this group has.” so there’s a girl, you thought, who feels bad for what her dumbass friend did. you didn’t know her, but you could already picture her: someone helpful, definitely fed up with the ones around her.

and honestly, the idea of meeting another woman out here who didn’t want to shoot you, steal your supplies, or abandon you sounded… kind of nice.

and god, it had been so long since you’d felt the softness of a real mattress under you. a creaky one, sure. but it was so soft, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d laid on anything that didn’t have rocks or dirt digging into your back. “fine,” you muttered, your pride still bruised. “but we’re with another group. they’re going to worry. we need to let them know we’re safe.” you almost choked on that last word. safe. what a joke.

he gave a small nod. “just tell us where. my friends can go find them, deliver the message. meanwhile, you stay here—with me and pansy.”

you tightened your eyes at him, studying the way he leaned against the wall like none of this was a big deal. “why aren’t you going?” you asked. “what if they see a walker? you’ve got good aim. maybe you’ll shoot them on purpose this time.”

he smirked at that, tilting his head like he was trying not to look too amused. “i’m the only one who knows how to handle a wound like yours. what if you start bleeding again? who’s gonna be here to lick it off for a second time?”

your eyes widened instantly, a wave of disbelief crossing your face so fast it made him chuckle. jenny had been standing awkwardly by the door, rolled her eyes so hard it looked like it hurt. “he’s fucking with you,” she muttered, glancing between the two of you like she was mentally preparing to referee a second gunfight.

the two of you didn’t even spare her a glance, just locked in a stare so intense, she couldn’t tell if you were seconds away from tearing each other apart… or tearing each other’s clothes off. honestly, she wasn’t sure if it was a glare or a full-blown eye-fuck.

“whatever,” jenny said, finally stepping forward. “i’ll go. i’ll show them where the group is.” you didn’t argue. it made sense. you weren’t exactly in running shape, and despite how much you didn’t trust the guy, you really didn’t trust him around daisy and the others. not with that mouth. jenny put her hand on the doorframe, hesitating just long enough to toss a final look over her shoulder. “try not to shoot each other, okay?”

[th3sungod]

parkner au where harley technically remembers peter, and is very concerned that tony suddenly stopped talking about him one day.

he remembers hearing about tony's insanely smart intern and how he rivals even tony's genius ( harley would beg to differ on principal but tony never says that about anyone ) so he assumes the kid must be special. he absentmindedly assumed the kid was spider-man, and when he asked, tony simply told him 'i can neither confirm nor deny' which basically answer that question.

but, he never got a name for the intern. spider-man. the kid. underoos. spider-boy. spiderling. 'one of the two people fully responsible for every grey hair on his head' -- all names used, but never explicitly stating a name.

and, when after nearly a month and a half of not hearing a thing from Tony about him, he asks. at first he assumes he has no new stories since it's been a hot minute since Tony's even been able to do anything other than sit in bed and recover, but something isn't sitting right with him. he asks where's the intern been, and says as much about not hearing anything, throwing in a joke or two about leaving him on the side of the road, but Tony is silent.

"Who?"

"Uhh- your intern? Spider-man? Don't tell me you're already forgetting in your old age." Harley jokes dryly.

Except, Tony actually has no clue why Harley would think Spider-man interns for him. And, he doesn't seem to remember any instances he'd brought up when trying to jog his memory. He says he remembers Spidey helping for a few different things, but never stayed to chat and never revealed his identity.

So, given that it's not particularly out of the question, he automatically assume an alien has taken over Tony Stark's body and calls Pepper. And Pepper knows nothing. And after a very frantic bout of questioning, he takes the initiative to drive all the way to New York.

He doesn't know The Avengers, he talked to Rhodes and Vision maybe once at Tony's wedding, but something is most obviously wrong so his first thought is to tell them. Get there before whatever took over Tony's body, or is impersonating him, or something doesn't have the time to infiltrate the world's mightiest heroes.

No one knows anything. Happy said he drove him once, but he was in full costume and he doesn't remember the starting address off the top of his head. He feels like he's going crazy. He tells Tony as much.

He tells Tony about the kid from Queens he picked up basically off the side of the road, gave him a new suit, and every single story he can remember Tony told him about Spidey. It's a fucking long shot, but he recounts the Vulture incident and about how he took the suit, so he has to know who's under the mask.

Eventually, Tony tries picking out specifics about the dates Harley mentions, and can't honestly tell him what happened otherwise -- other than things that definitely don't add up.

Harley, now trying to think back to ever since time Tony even mentioned the kid, while simultaneously trying to figure out why the vigilante has been subsequently missing since around the time Tony stopped mentioning him, puts himself to work immediately. He said the kid had an aunt, he doesn't know her name. He went to one of the best STEM schools in New York, but he doesn't know which one. But, there are discrepancies. The AI he knows Tony made the kid is still functioning, though it won't locate since the HUDs been off for nearly a month.

Slowly, Harley finds himself spending every waking hour thinking of Spider-man, one of the world's finest, who simply fell off the face of the earth. And, by the time he finds concrete proof in the form of a picture and a name, Tony finally brings him to a resident wizard to help. There are no files on Peter Parker anywhere, so maybe magic will help?

What they find is a scrawny teenager half dead in an abandoned train station, wearing what's left of a spider-suit underneath dingy clothes. he's balled up, and doesn't hold a lick of peace in sleep.

he decides, then and there, he isn't leaving New York until whatever happened is fixed, and everyone remembers peter again. he doesn't know why any of this happened, but he's gonna damn help as much as he can.

( harley would've definitely heard the news of some teenager being outed as being spidey, but he never got a name. he did see a picture, so any memories of the outing are wiped from his mind. )

[bonbonly]

BONBON!!! need collegeau! carlos punishing artstudent!reader for going almost no contact with him when she was on her trip with mrs sainz. left him in the dark, wondering if she was with another man.. he needs to leaves so many marks so that no man goes near her for a while.. 🙏

LITERALLY AS SOON AS I FINISHED WRITING "INTO THE WOODS" I WAS LIKE I NEED TO GET TO EM'S ASK (and im combining 🍒 anon's ask in this as well!)

bon's thoughts (18+)

college!au carlos is at his study room, typing up an assignment that he has for his entrepreneurship class. his fingers drum against the keyboard before he adds another paragraph to his proposal. he leans back in his chair, reading over the word doc and then stiffening when he hears your laughter downstairs.

you had just come back from an art exhibition with his mother. you spent the past two weeks ignoring his texts, never picking up his calls. every time he did call, it was always when you were talking with an art director about trying to get your paintings to another gallery across the globe. by the time you'd get back to your hotel room, you're passed out and dozing off, completely oblivious to the thousand calls carlos was spamming you with.

mrs. sainz is making pasta for everyone tonight, and she smiles at you, "my dear, would you mind going upstairs and getting carlos? i heard he hasn't eaten anything since lunch, no snacks or juice! my poor boy must be starving!"

you laugh, slipping off the stool and nodding your head, "will do, mrs. sainz!" and you skip out of the kitchen, heading up the stairs. you approach his room, and pause in front of his door. you peer into the small crack and see him working diligently, his glasses on. he never really wore glasses that often, only if he was locked in and trying to get his work done. but ugh, he looked really good wearing it. you clear your throat, knocking on the door, "carlos! your mom's calling you for dinner!"

"come in!" carlos barks, cracking his knuckles. you enter, closing the door behind you,

"hey!" you smile, but your face falls when you see that he's glaring at you. he gestures for you to walk over to him and you sigh, reaching him behind his desk and running a hand through his hair, "hey, what's up? is your college work too much?" but before you can get a response, he shuts his laptop, placing it to the side and tosses all the papers and pencils onto the ground before picking you up and slamming you onto the table. you gasp out loud as he's tearing your clothes off, spreading your legs wide. he lets a trail of his saliva flow onto your pussy, his fingers sliding the spit along your folds which causes you to choke back a moan as you gaze at him with wide eyes. he chuckles, darkly,

"very cute of you, hermosa," he snickers, licking your clit, "i think my dinner's right here." and he wraps his entire mouth around your cunt, slurping the sweet juice you have to offer him. you're shaking as he continues, and folds you into a mating press as he rubs his nose against your clit, inhaling your scent, "fuck, i've spent two weeks without your calls and texts, imagine how much i missed you, princesa"

and you gulp, realizing that he didn't forget the fact that you forgot to call him back. he's holding onto your wrists to make sure you can't hold onto his hair as his tongue delves deeper, his head shaking against your cunt which has you crying out loud about how good his tongue is. truth is you missed him too, but you wouldn't say that because you knew his ego would get bigger. when you cum around his tongue, he lets his tongue drag up to your tits, sucking and biting anywhere that he can find. he's marking your neck, your forehead, your collarbones, even your arms, all while his cock is pistoning inside of you without stopping.

"are you going to cum? hm, is that what's going to happen?" he mocks your pleas as you're frantically nodding your head, telling him how close you were. he laughs, shaking his head, "i thought you were fucking some other man, i thought you had forgotten all about me... me, the man that even got you those art exhibitions! fuck, i think the only way you'll ever understand is if i get you pregnant. my cum flowing out of you every night. my mama will be so happy to be the grandmother to our child."

"carlos!" you scream, clenching around his cock as his nibbles your ear. your legs are stretched so wide you know you're going to be limping back downstairs. a knock on the door makes you snap your head to the side, and carlos is grinning as he's pounding into you faster.

"carlos, what's taking you so long?" mrs. sainz asks from the other side, and carlos groans quietly to himself at the feeling of your pussy swallowing him, taking him deeper,

"just a bit... fuck, busy with work mama! we'll be out soon, don't worry! give me 10 more minutes!" he yells, and mrs. sainz sighs,

"take your time! your work comes first, mi hijo!" her footsteps grow quieter as she heads back downstairs, and carlos grabs your jaw, forcing you to look back at him,

"you heard what she said, mi zorra, you better hope mi mama doesn't see my cum all over you," and you whimper out loud, biting your lip at the thought of being drenched from head to toe in his cum. he giggles, shaking his head, "you'd like that, wouldn't you? and who am I to deny my princesa?"

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

#LeviWeek24 | Day 1 - Birthday

✧ word count ➼ ~1.5k ✧ notes ➼ modern!au, pre-established relationship, my headcanon that levi dislikes his birthday because it reminds him of kuchel u.u ✧ comments ➼ hi i'm still alive and writing!!! i may or may not have started this only a day in advance LMAO

Levi wasn't one for crowds. This was especially the case when the crowd was cramped within a small, stuffy apartment. The party was thrown by Erwin and Hange, so it wasn't like Levi was within a sea of strangers, but it still wasn't ideal. It was far too noisy and he couldn't even hear himself think.

He had originally attended the Christmas party to get his mind off the one other thing that surrounded him on this particular day—his birthday—but at this rate, he couldn't keep anything on his mind due to the chatter around him.

"Levi!"

He blinked upon finally hearing his name, unaware that you had been trying to get his attention for the past minute. He could recognize your voice anywhere, but the noise made even that difficult.

"I've never seen you space out this much," you noted, grabbing onto his hand and walking him towards a corner of the room that wasn't completely packed. "You good?"

You raised your eyebrow at him once he muttered a barely audible "yup" alongside a head nod. He was lying, or at least reluctant to admit to it.

"…well, I'm feeling overwhelmed. Can we go outside for a bit?" you proposed after a pause. It wasn't untrue—you were certainly feeling overstimulated, especially once the Mario Kart competition started up in the living room after everyone had a few drinks.

You didn't comment on it, but you didn't miss the slight exhale of relief that escaped from your boyfriend's lips.

After gathering your coat and keys, the two of you made your way down the stairs of Erwin's apartment complex. It was well into the night, so the streets were fairly empty. The snow had been lightly falling for the past hour or so, leaving a thin layer on the sidewalk and cars. The bright ground perfectly reflected off the colorful fairy lights that various residents hung up for the holiday season.

You laced your fingers within Levi's, with him bringing your hand into his coat pocket since you had forgotten your gloves. The two of you walked in comfortable silence, your other arm wrapped around his.

You knew that Levi didn't like crowds. You weren't a particular fan of them either, so you were more than willing to flake out on the party. You had offered to have a cozy night in to accomodate for both your needs, but Levi had been fairly persistent in attending.

"…it's about your birthday, isn't it?"

You subtly felt Levi tense, turning to look into his gaze of skepticism.

"You were fairly determined to attend the party, even though you knew that you'd just get pissed off," you noted. "You wanted to avoid your birthday, right?"

Levi's eyes widened for a split second before he dropped his gaze back down to the ground. He didn't deny your suggestion—you were indeed correct. He didn't like grand gestures, especially not ones that feature him as the center of attention, but his birthday was especially irksome.

The date only ever reminded him of his mother passing a few days beforehand. It was a long time ago, but it still actively brought a sour taste to his mouth whenever his birthday approached or was brought up.

"Figured all the hype about Christmas would be a good distraction," Levi eventually grumbled.

"Well, it certainly is," you admitted. "But you're just replacing being pissed about your birthday with being pissed about the Christmas party."

"I'm not pissed."

You raised an eyebrow up at him upon hearing his defensive response.

"…just annoyed," he clarified. "They're too fucking noisy."

Your eyes softened as the edges of your lips pulled up into a small smile. You tightened your grip on his arm, signaling a non-verbal gesture of support.

"It's okay to miss her," you whispered. "She was your mom, so it's only natural that-"

"Stop."

You fell silent as you felt yourself tense. You knew talking about his mom was a touchy subject, so you were struggling to tell if he was legitimately upset at you or not.

In reality, it took everything in him to acknowledge that you were correct in that his mother was the reason he hated thinking about his birthday.

"…I do miss her," he eventually said quietly. "And my birthday feels pretty shitty as a result."

You heard him pause, but chose not to respond. You could tell that he needed a second to formulate his words, to take some time to sort out his thoughts.

"…but using Christmas to forget about my birthday means I'm also trying to forget about her…and I don't want to forget."

You stopped walking, tugging on his arm a bit to get his attention. You looked into his eyes and noted the vulnerability that seemed to be present—a sight that was quite rare to be seen out in the open.

"Shut your eyes for a minute."

Skepticism crept into his gaze at your request, but he ultimately complied.

Once his eyes were shut, you quickly made your way to your car that was parked on the side of the street in front of you. All Levi could hear was your car door opening and closing, and a muffled noise that sounded like you were unwrapping something from tissue paper.

"This the gift you were fussing about all week?"

"Shush. Don't ruin the moment."

After a moment, you slowly made your way back over to him. Your steps were slower and cautious, and he was able to tell that you had something in your hands.

"Okay, open your eyes."

Levi's eyelids slowly raised. He had already predicted that you were grabbing a gift out of the trunk, but seeing you walking forward carefully with a medium-sized sturdy box still brought a confused look into his eyes.

"…I was wanting to do it myself," you admitted. "But I didn't want to fuck it up."

Levi slowly reached for the lid, pausing right before making contact with it, waiting for your nod of permission. Upon seeing your approval, he slowly opened the box.

A million ideas ran through his head as to what you would have been so stressed about getting for him, but this was not it.

He fixed his gaze on the small, fragile teacup that he had been devastated about shattering a few weeks ago. It was the last thing his mom gave him before she died. The handle had broken off and he dropped it before he could catch it. He had been pretty grumpy for a considerable amount of time after that.

"I read something about 'kintsugi," you slowly explained, eyeing him carefully to see his reaction. "And how it represents something breaking adding more meaning into the original piece."

Levi paused for a moment, processing the meaning of the gift, even if it was something as small as a repaired teacup.

"And here I thought you were scrambling around for the final piece because you thought the cat was going to eat it."

"Well, that's not ideal either," you retorted in an amused tone.

Levi reached his hand into the box, carefully lifting the teacup from the cushion it was resting on. The porcelain had been meticulously pieced together with thin golden lines in between the cracks where the cup had shattered. He rotated the cup, seeing the area where the handle had snapped off the cup. Even the handle had been reattached to its original position and filled with the golden hue.

"…might want to avoid using the handle for now though," you noted upon seeing him eyeing the handle.

"Think I'll manage," Levi muttered quietly, picking the cup up by the rims as he placed it back into the box. "…thank you."

"Just wanted to get you something that meant something, so…."

You looked back up at him as you felt his hand cupping at your cheek. Before you could finish your sentence, he gently planted his lips onto yours, which was more than enough to communicate how much the gift actually affected him.

"…just your company would have sufficed," he whispered, resting his forehead against yours.

You shot him a small smile as you tried to contain your happiness at his reaction, pulling him in for another kiss, being careful not to squeeze on the box containing the cup too hard as you pulled yourself closer to him.

"…but still," he whispered once you pulled away. "Thank you. Thoughtful as always."

You couldn't tell if the rosy hue on his cheeks were from him blushing or just the chilly atmosphere around you. Regardless, this was the first time you had seen him somewhat relaxed on his birthday. Fixing the cup was a small gesture, but it had the emotional impact you knew he needed.

"…happy birthday, Lev'," you whispered, before pulling him into another kiss.

Levi hadn't enjoyed his birthday in quite a while, but he certainly did this time.

#: @chaotic-on-main @levisbrat25 @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @roseofdarknessblog @noctemys @sixpennydame @heichoucleanfreak @catskze @nixie-writes-aot @darkstarlight82 @professorweezy @braunsbabe @lovedbylevi @captainleviswifee @mrsmiagreer @youre-ackermine @starrylevi @levis-squishy-cheeks @deepzombieyouth @evas-leslas @ackrmntea @tobbi-loves-levi @humanitys-strongest-brat join my taglist! (i know it's been a minute so i'm sorry if i missed anyone! pls lmk if you wanna be removed 😅)

[fellow-fandom-fruitifier]

I’ve seen so many alive!DBD au’s where Edwin and Charles meet first, or Edwin and Niko/Charles and Crystal meet first, but I raise you: Rich Payne and Surname-Von Hoverkraft families meet first. They are industry RIVALS, okay? They DESPISE each other with a burning passion and trade thinly veiled insults back and forth at every event they meet.

(More under cut cause this shit is atrociously long.)

At first Edwin and Crystal ignore each other or send glares, following their parents lead, but then they get older and Crystal starts acting out to get her parents attention while Edwin starts distancing himself from his. Both of them get the idea of, “What if I get to know the Payne’s/Surname-Von Hoverkraft’s daughter/son? My parents would HATE that.” So a friendship is formed.

In the beginning it’s toxic bitch levels of fake on both their sides, good lord they can’t stand each other. One day Crystal’s drunk off her underage ass and just starts openly venting and Edwin — the always sober guy and no it’s not cause he cares that’s preposterous!! — meets her tit for tat. Because, c’mon. Of course they’d drop random trauma on each other like fun facts.

Anyways they’re proper friends now, still appear the same — arguing is their love language — but there’s a level of solidarity now. Insert Edwin getting sent off to St. Hilarion’s for another year — Crystal threatens him to write her back per usual — and his classmates pull the prank. Not sure what 73 years in hell would be here, I’ve seen so many interpretations but I think kidnapping and torture is accurate.

While that’s going on Crystal gets a new boyfriend at her school. Any guesses?? She writes Edwin about David and Edwin does not hold back, he’s part of the reason Crystal tries to break up — it doesn’t go well, not sure how yet — and she writes Edwin about what happened craving comfort. Usually postal’s pretty fast, they aren’t that far, but she doesn’t get a response one day in. Two. Three… She finds out her best friends been kidnapped AFTER a news article has been released.

Turns out her parents knew the entire time but neglected to tell her. Crystal stops speaking to them. It’s 73 days later before she gets anymore news outside of, “The Police Are Still Looking”, and it comes in the sign of a knock. She hadn’t got much sleep that night — didn’t most nights — so she’d been wandering around her kitchen aimlessly. (As you do.) When she heart a soft rap on her front door. Curious, and too tired to care about danger or consequence, she opens the door.

Crystal doesn’t recognize him at first, he’s shivering and there’s so much blood on his- his everywhere but then a very weak voice croaks, “Crystal.” She screams. And sobs. Because what else do you do when your friend had to escape himself after 73 days of captivity and torture and the first safe place he could think to go wasn’t the police, or hospital, but you? Her parents are awoken by her scream and come rushing down because what the fuck is going on? And it’s all a blur from there — she refuses to leave his side and Edwin clings to her like a limpet.

It takes awhile of recovery and physical therapy — and regular therapy — after that but Crystal is holding his hand nigh every session, she’s there to bring him books and bicker and provide a sense of normalcy. Crystal forgets David for awhile, the only one to occupy her thoughts being Edwin because she knows he’d do the exact same. The two also get the satisfaction of watching their parents actually try to be amiable after this, it’s so stilted and awkward and they revel in it. And, yes, the tabloids somehow get ahold of the fact that kidnapped Edwin Payne fought his way to the Surname-Von Hoverkraft’s doorstep instead of literally anywhere else. Rumors pop up about his and Crystal’s relationship and the two make a teir list of their favs and least favs. Secret love child/half-siblings is their favorite, secretly dating isn’t even on the board they hate it so much.

College!!! The two decide against anything super fancy. And by that I mean they move to America together to find some community college to go to because neither want to be reliant on their parents who took a whole ass kidnapping to pay attention to them. Anyways, they share a flat above Tongue & Tail butcher shop with Jenny as their landlord. Crystal works as a freelance artist and tarot card reader (She’s really good.) while Edwin works as the librarians — Maxine’s — assistant.

Charles and Niko meet differently, Niko’s actually advertising her need for a roommate and Charles — who also moved to America to get away from his dad — takes it up. Fast friends don’t have a thing on these two. Niko gushes about this pretty girl across from them and Charles is man enough to admit, yeah, their neighbors are pretty fine. Too bad they’re dating.

———

Anyways more highlights of this AU in no particular order:

Crystal and Edwin physically recoil when Niko says something like, “Wait, I thought you two were dating?” Edwin puts his hand to his heart, too stunned to speak. Crystal fake gags and goes, “Why does everyone think that?! HE’S GAY!!”

Edwin discovers his sexuality at one of the clubs Crystal drags him to when Thomas King — older then them by a few years — flirts with him and he Panics™️. Crystal drags him away with a scathing look toward Thomas and asks if Edwin’s okay. He blurts out, “I- I’m gay?!” and Crystal goes, “You didn’t know??!?”

David tracks Crystal down to America and it’s a whole thing for obvious reasons, also because she forgot to tell Edwin about it in full — too busy helping him. This is how Crystal’s abusive ex trauma gets aired. (Charles maybe reveals some shit about his dad here too.)

Edwin and Niko go on a little faux-date together — cafe, library, just a chill day and night out — but Edwin leaves his flip phone at home and Niko’s dies. (Yes he has a flip phone.💀💀) So Crystal’s panicked as shit, last time she couldn’t contact him he was literally KIDNAPPED and TORTURED. Charles tries to calm her down before simply offering to wait up with her. When Niko and Edwin get back Crystal breaks down like, “You can’t DO that!!” This is how Edwin’s kidnapping and torture trauma gets aired.

Charles has a near death experience at St. Hilarion’s a few days after Edwin’s kidnapping. Turns out they went at the same time but Charles was a year under him and they ran in very different social circles. He gets chucked into the freezing lake and stoned still but a teacher catches them all and sends him to the hospital.

Niko’s dad died and her mom sent her to America to get away from the sadness, she caught a really bad illness and also almost died. Charlotte Knight was her Nurse. (Unrelated but she has Poliosis, which turns parts of your hair white.)

Esther is a serial killer and uses her son, Monty, to lure people in. Very brain washed Monty here sorry guys. She kidnaps Edwin who has several trackers on him — after the Niko Night Out incident Crystal and Edwin spent a night sewing them into each others coats and shoes — and the police arrest Esther and Monty.

Payneland and Palasaki of course, but this would probably be focused on Edwin and Crystal’s friendship. Yes, Niko and Charles get a shovel talk. “You know I adore you Niko and whilst I do not think you’d intend any harm, I will have to do something drastic in the event that it happens.” “Okay listen here dipshit. I have full faith you won’t hurt Edwin but if you do, intentionally or not, I will have to castrate you.”

There’s more I forgot lmfao, this is too long already😭😭 If I made any spelling mistakes no I didn’t

[spirit-lanterns]

Obsessed with Android reader! I know it's meant to be a whole separate cyberpunk au, but I just imagine the Android reader with the normal hsr women.

Just imagining the express crew finding this poor lost little pleasure Android, and just the women all gathered together as they have Reader between them as she explains her design.

Just their sweet girl slowly string down for all of them as she describes how there are vibrate functions in all her fingers, her tongue, and inner parts of her pussy. Reader pinching and tugging at herself to show them how the heat functions are designed to perfectly emulate natural human responses, however with the caveat that as her internal heat rises her synthetic skin's sensitivity rises exponentially.

Stelle probably drooling a little bit as reader spreads her legs to give all of them a clear view of her pretty pussy, talking at length of the many textures and inner machinery designed to stimulate any inserted appendage to the fullest capacity over every little inch. March covering her eyes with one hand as reader guides her other hand to grope reader's chest so she can feel first hand how soft and squishy she truly is.

All ending with Himeko ordering reader to allow her to taste the little Android for herself, the other two trying not to look jealous as they watch the way you crawl up into a position that allows Himeko perfect access to you. Though March has to hold Stelle back from pouncing the moment Himeko let's out a downright sinful moan at reader's taste. Just for a panting and whimpering reader to explain that even the synthetic fluids she produces are meant to be a unique but distinct flavor for their pleasure. Even as the cooling fans audibly whire from her, her limbs shake as they all get to watch first hand the way an "overheated" little android positively comes apart at the seems as March and Stelle finally give in and start touching reader too.

Poor little android reader, didn't even get around to explaining the customization options available before the three women have her screaming incoherently through orgasm after orgasm.

~🐁

THE RETURN OF REVERSE ANDROID AU!! Ouhhhh just imagine Android! Reader getting fucked dumb by all the Express girls after explaining herself. She has no idea how dirty she is showing off her parts and capabilities as she is programmed to manually give her new owners a run down of what she can do. She’s spreading her legs and going into detail about how her synthetic pussy can be adjusted to any length, girth, and tightness that one desires for their pleasure. How she can make her internal holes textured to anyone’s liking, plus the fact that her tongue can transform into any kind of kinky shape they desire. March is especially fond of your tentacle tongue option…

Oh, not to mention you can adjust your body temperature too. You can warm up your holes and give the girls a cockwarming that makes them feel like they’re in a hot tub, or cool yourself down so that they can fuck you even on the hottest days of summer. You can also self lube yourself, which means you’re ready for a rough pounding anytime, anywhere. Almost nowhere is inconvenient for you! You are a traveling pleasure Android for a reason…

The way you describe yourself seems like a sales pitch in your head, but to the Express girls, all they can think about is how perfect of a pleasure robot you are! You don’t even have to get into detail about your other features, as the girls have decided they’ll just find out for themselves how much more you can do 🤭

Welcome to the Express, little pleasure robot! You’d make the perfect addition for their travels. Not only for the Express girls but for the other women you meet along the way <3

[milf-murdock]

The Scare: Part II

A/N: Y'all this is filthyyyyyyy. Absolutely fucking disgusting and I cannot get enough of it omg. I think I blacked out while writing this.

Check out Part 1 here

Warnings: Dark!Simon AU, breeding kink, pregnancy mentions, baby trapping, creepy behavior, red flags (dreamy), and if there's anything else I need to tag just let me know!

Putting the read more right at top because babes we are just jumping right into it ;,)

Simon is legendary when it comes to details. Nothing gets past this man. Especially, when he’s on a mission. And right now? Simon was a man on a mission. 

“Fuck babe,” he grunted as he pressed your legs even farther back, your knees nearly to your ears. “So fuckin’ tight.” His thrusts were deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust. 

You were beyond response. Not only had he made you come on his fingers while he sucked on that pretty little clit, but he’d made sure to put a couple pillows underneath you, propping up your hips for him, opening yourself to a new angle that had you seeing fucking stars. All you could do was moan and gasp as Simon gripped your hips and drove his cock into you at a relentless pace. 

He had seen this position online, when he was conducting his late-night research on a private, completely locked-down browser, searching up the best ways to get you pregnant. 

___

He knew that he needed to lock you down, to ensure that there was no way you were going anywhere. He wanted you all to himself. And he wanted everyone to know just who you fucking belonged to. 

You’d be the prettiest mum, Simon thought to himself as he scrolled through the online articles, absentmindedly stroking his cock. You were fast asleep in the next room, and he was so thankful. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, round with his baby, heavy breasts, your supple curves growing even more. His fist moved faster, sliding over his thick cock, pulling back the skin to tease the bright red head. If he got you pregnant now, you’d be due just at the end of summer. The thought of you in one of your gorgeous sundresses, heavily and adorably pregnant with his baby, was enough to send him over the edge, hips rutting up into his hand. He tried to conceal his groan as the hot spurts of come landed on his bare chest. 

___

Simon is phenomenal when it comes to details. Which is how he has your cycle fucking memorized. Which is why he has you spread on your bed, legs in the air, pounding into you with everything he has. 

He knows this is your ovulation window. Sure, he had made sure to fill you up yesterday, and he’ll make damn sure to fill you up tomorrow, too, just to be safe. But today? Today was when you were most fertile. He knows, because he’s been secretly tracking your ovulation, taking your temperature while you sleep to make the most accurate prediction. He had been so disappointed to see that negative test last month. His hopes had been so high when he saw that you were late. Only to be dashed the next morning when your period had started. He coddled you through it, of course, bringing you medicine, hot tea, heating pad, endless snuggles. But the whole time, he was planning how this month would be different. 

He’d knock you up if it was the last thing he fucking did. 

___

“Such a good girl, taking my fuckin’ cock,” Simon groaned, pulling back his hips, all the way so just the tip rested inside you. 

“I can’t—it’s too,” you sputter, absolutely cock drunk. 

“Ah, but you can, love,” Simon smirked to himself as he thrusted deep into your weeping pussy, all the way to the hilt. He reveled in the way you screamed in pleasure. He continued the pattern: pulling out, thrusting in, picking up the pace. His heavy balls bounced off your ass as his pace picked up. You were getting close, he could tell, your body starting to stiffen, your cries getting louder. He used his broad hands to grab your hips and hold you steady as he hammered into you, relentless in his pursuit. 

“Gonna come for me, dove?” He teased, his voice deep and earnest, filled with lust. He needed you to finish. He’d read an old wives tale saying the seed was more likely to take root when the mother finishes. The thought alone nearly had Simon coming right then and there. Your shaky voice brought him back to reality. “Yes, uh huh, don’t forget—“ you screamed as he thrusted in you particularly hard. “Pull out,” you mumbled, hazy in the oncoming fog of your orgasm. “Fuck Simon, fuck, fuck FUCK,” you screamed as your orgasm overtook you.

Simon watched as your eyes rolled back into your head and your back arched off the gentle stack of pillows, pushing your breasts forward. Simon couldn’t help the mental image that popped into his head: you, swollen with his child, those same breasts full of milk, ready to nourish your child, his child. Everyone would know how he had pleased you, claimed you, made you his. 

Simon’s hips stuttered as he came, a resounding growl of pleasure escaping his lips as he slammed into your cunt a final time. His seed flooded your cervix, filling you with a warmth you were too blissed out to recognize. Ropes and ropes of his spend filled you,  his cock twitching inside you, as Simon pressed his face against your chest, breathing heavily. 

“Fuckin hell, love,” he moaned. “Gonna be the fucking death of me.” 

He slid his softening cock out of you, careful to use his fingers to scoop any escaping seed back into your aching cunt. He silently tutted to himself. We can’t be having that, now can we? 

[thebrothel]

Bad Ideas

PAIRING: raider!Joel x f!reader x f!friend x Carter WORD COUNT: 2.5k  NOTE/SUMMARY: Joel is primary (you're sweet pea). Carter is an OC. Same non-canon raider AU as Girl Talk. (poll). Carter's girl is not described. They all sleep in the same bed. what could go wrong? WARNINGS: 🔞, mostly smut, MFFM kinda, choking, violence, hair pulling, biting, questionable orgasm timing, angst, dark sweet pea. read at your own discretion. 

—

The fire pops and crackles, filling the silence. It’s been a few minutes since either of the men said anything. All you hear is the fire and Joel’s breath, heavy with need. You’re stifling moans with your face in his neck while you straddle him. He’s got one hand on your ass and one on your back as he  grinds you on his hard bulge. His manhood throbs against you, nudging you in just the right spot. The whisky on his breath is stronger than usual. 

He lets out a soft grunt and pulls you harder against him. Closer, tighter so his clothed cock is aimed at your wet little hole instead. He’s going to make you desperate for it. With Joel nudging you like that with his hard-on, your wetness begins to seep into his denim. The need to be filled is overwhelming. Will he fuck you right here? He’s done it in front of plenty of people, but normally it’s just men. It turns you on a little more, thinking about doing it in front of her. A private show, just for them. 

~//ofc pov//~

Carter and his girl--your friend--are only about two meters away, and she’s seated on him in the same fashion. They couldn’t help themselves after a few minutes of trying not to watch you and Joel and hearing the noises you’re trying to stifle. She’s heard you moan before. They all have. She’s heard it with her head between your legs, with her fingers knuckles deep getting soaked by your sweet little cunt. When the boys got home from their last hunting trip, the two of you were on the sofa, with your legs stacked together while she expertly massaged your tit, thumbing your nipple into a peak while you grinded on her thigh between your legs. Now she’s grinding herself on Carter as they make out. 

She can’t really help herself. He’s a good kisser, and he’s rock hard. What she really wants is Carter inside her, but rocking against him, feeling the stiffness and girth of his perfect cock is the next best thing. She rolls her hips slowly.

His mouth breaks away from hers to mutter, “Fuck, sugar,” then a cautionary, “Hol’on.” His hands on her thighs hold her still for a moment. She giggles and they look at each other fondly for a moment. His eyes always sparkle when he’s with her, but now his face is wrecked with arousal.

Carter has so much restraint. Sometimes she wishes he was more like Joel, giving it to his girl any time, anywhere.

They start kissing again, softer, less sloppy. 

~//🌸🫛//~

Joel murmurs into your hair, “You gonna come for me?” 

Your response is interrupted by a loud clap of thunder. When you jump, Joel chuckles.

A fat raindrop lands on your head. 

Carter gives his girl a kiss on the forehead and nudges her off his lap. He subtly adjusts himself before standing up and going to grab the tarp by the side of the trailer. “Guess we should try to beat the rain,” he tells her as he covers the unused firewood. 

You glance at her and she gives you a disappointed look. 

You put your hands around the back of Joel's neck, gently resting your thumbs just in front of his earlobes. He raises an eyebrow like he knows you want something. 

You bite your lip and almost laugh. 

“I'm listening,” he teases.  

“Can they stay?” you ask. 

“Whatcha want’em to stay for?” 

Heat rises to your cheeks “I just like hanging out with her.” 

“Uh-huh,” he says with teasing skepticism.  “I know ya do,” he reminds you. 

Another clap of thunder and it begins to pour. 

Joel clears his throat and shouts, “Come on in, it's early. Storm’ll blow over. ”

–

You’re all wet by the time you get inside. The dog gets to come in too, but he has to stay in the bathroom. In the kitchen, the men have another drink. The storm is picking up outside. You sit on Joel’s lap, side-saddle. He’s so handsome in the lantern light. Carter’s girl sits in the chair next to him, and he holds her hand in her lap. She yawns into her shoulder. 

“pull-out’s in there if ya wanna call it a night,” Joel nods toward the living room. Then he murmurs across the top of your ear, “You tired?” 

You remind him, “the roof leaks in there.” 

“Shit, you’re right,” Joel replies. 

“Bed’s big enough,” you whisper, then put your hand on the lamp’s handle like you’re ready to bring it to the bedroom.

“Hear that, Carter?” Joel picks up his glass to down the rest of his whiskey. He swallows and puts it back down, with his voice a little lower. “Fine by me.” 

~//flashback//~

After catching you girls together that time, Joel and Carter had talked. You overheard some of it and were surprised to hear Carter was the hesitant one. Joel was always far more possessive (than anyone, ever), but that was partly why he made peace with it: If something happened to Joel, he would rather you have your friend than someone else. He knew you didn’t look at her the way you looked at him. He knew she was just for fun. The thought of another man swooping in made his blood boil, but he didn’t want you to be completely alone.

Carter, on the other hand, was concerned. He was worried about Joel getting jealous and getting rid of the girl. Taking a sexual interest in you wasn't good for anyone's lifespan.

“I don’t get jealous,” Joel claimed. “Just don’t like men disrespectin’ my girl.” 

“snapped a girl's neck for puttin’ hands on her,” Carter reminded him.

Joel scoffed. “Snapped her neck cause she damn near killed ya, brother.” 

Carter was moved. After a few moments of silence, he agreed. “If it’s too much, promise you’ll say somethin'. I don't wanna lose her, man.” 

Joel nodded, and that was that. 

~//~

Now Joel’s fucking you from behind in the spoon position, holding onto your hip. Your friend’s face is getting closer to yours with every thrust from Carter behind her. Carter is holding her breast.

As the gap gets smaller and smaller between you and her, your erect nipple brushes against something hard - Carter's knuckles. His hand quickly moves out of the way with a quiet curse into his girl’s hair. But the split-second contact has already sent a chill down your spine that makes you twitch on Joel's cock. The deep growl Joel lets out gives you butterflies. 

Your bodies drift even closer until your breasts are smashed against hers, and you’re sloppily kissing. You’re floating in a cozy world of pleasure with her mouth on yours, her tongue finding yours after sliding along your lower lip. Her tits feel so good against you, moving to the beat of Carter’s hips. The power of Joel’s rhythm grinds you against her. You almost lift your leg so your knee rests on her hip, but think better of it when you imagine Joel’s balls grazing her. Your lips stop moving as you close your eyes and focus on Joel. You and she breathe against each other’s mouths, letting out sounds of pleasure with your tits still touching. You squeeze her side, then slide your hand to her breast and her nipple gets harder with your touch. 

Joel grunts and pulls you back against him, and off of her. The move feels more primal than anything. He probably didn’t think about her at all. He doesn’t think when he’s ravaging you. He only takes what’s his and bends you to his will. It’s the way he can’t physically get enough. Can’t be deep enough inside. Can’t have enough of your body against his. Can’t hold you tight enough.  Always hungry for more. 

He gropes around the front of your chest as he pounds you, his wide palm smashing your breast. Joel’s thrusts are sharp and deep, and his breathing is more vocal with every stroke of his cock through your tight, soft walls. He must be getting close. He bottoms out for two seconds and you let out a whimper, pushing back on him.  “That’s my girl,” he growls as his hips begin to move, and the slow, thick drag of his cock makes you forget everything else. His arm tightens, and his breath is hot in your hair. Your skin is slippery against his. You’re a humid row of bodies, writhing and sliding against each other under a quiet medley of heavy breaths, grunts, and sighs. 

“That’s it, baby,” Carter says in a husky near-whisper. 

“Ohhh--good girl,” Joel pants, grinding deep inside you. You let out a moan, and it’s echoed by one from her. Your eyes flutter open. 

Carter has slowed down. He's fucking her deep and smooth with a hand on her hip. A flash of lightning illuminates the room. Carter is kissing her neck, making her whimper, and a glimpse of his tongue on her skin makes you twitch. Her mouth is open, and her brow furrows with pleasure. “You like that?” Carter mumbles into her neck at a low octave before tasting her skin again, then marking her with bruising suction, drawing another moan. He releases her neck with a smack. 

“Whose are ya,” Joel murmurs. Your pussy gives his dick a little squeeze.

“Yours,” you reply. “always.” 

“Good girl.”

His. Always his. As much as you enjoy her. You could never be anyone else’s. You wouldn’t dream of it.

She tries to grope your breast, but Joel's hand is there. She breathes out a laugh, and when her hand doesn't move right away, you notice–even through the haze of pleasure. You pull back, pressing your back harder into Joel’s chest. You take her hand off of Joel's, and brush your chest with her fingers so she can feel the letters of his name. You interlace your fingers with hers.

“feel so good, sugar” Carter pants behind her. 

Another flash of lightning, and you see she's looking over your head. Your heart races. She’s looking at Joel. There’s no way he’s looking back at her, you reassure yourself, but you keep an eye on her over the next few seconds. The sight isn't as jarring in the dimmer lamplight, but her chin stays lifted upward, and so do her eyes. After another thrust of Joel inside you, she’s still looking at him. Your face tenses and tingles. You find your upper body trying to wiggle out of Joel’s tight grip. You put a hand on the back of her neck and pull her toward you at the same time.

Her neck still glistens with Carter’s spit as your mouth is drawn to it like a magnet. 

“Mm,” she moans as you plant your lips and suck. You widen your jaw, and your mind goes someplace else. 

"fuck," Carter breathes, "you close?"

The next thing you know, she’s wailing, with your teeth digging unforgivingly into her skin, not budging, only trying to sink deeper.

Carter groans with his release.  

Joel keeps fucking you, too wrapped up in the edge of his orgasm to even correct the gap that’s grown between your hair and his face. 

“Carter,” she cries, then chokes, “Carter.” 

“Shit,” he slowly comes back to reality, realizing what's happening.

Carter reaches around the back of your head and grabs a fist of your hair, trying to pry you off, but it only feels good to you. “Do somethin’, Miller.” His plea shakes Joel out of the spell enough to take you back, or try. 

When you resist the pull of his arm, Joel’s hand wraps around your throat. “C’mere,” he growls with a deep thrust. You tense up, squeezing his cock tight. 

“God damn” he curses, using the pressure of his forearm between your breasts, trying to pry you off, but not being rough with you, yet. “C’mere, sweet pea.” His fingers add some pressure to your neck.

With your mouth still on her neck, a modest climax ripples through your core, squeezing him tighter. Youre too numb to fully experience it- even the orgasm’s not enough to make you let go.

Joel sternly says your name. He tightens his grip, and you finally release her neck from your mouth.

He loosens his hand and pulls you fully back into his embrace with a groan, bottoming out and erupting. The warmth of his spend spreads like a blanket, soothing you along with the pulsing of his cock. 

–

You catch your breath and a hint of copper on your tongue. 

She’s blubbering. Looking for attention, when she should be apologizing and leaving.

“What the fuck,” Carter mutters, then tries to soothe her.  “Shhhh. It's okay, you're good.” 

“Crazy bitch,” she mumbles. 

You tense and Joel holds you tighter. “Hey,” he murmurs into your hair. “You’re okay.”

Carter's disapproving face turns to concern as he studies your face. "you good, peanut?" He asks you between heaving breaths.

She quietly sobs in unintelligible protest, hand on her neck. 

“Lemme see,” Carter says and retrieves the lamp from the bedside. He brings the lamp closer to her neck and his face darkens from shock to horror when he sees the damage. “Jesus,” he whispers.

The rain is really coming down hard. Bullet is whimpering in the bathroom and clawing at the door.  

Joe’s arms loosen around you. “Hey,” you grumble in protest when his cock slides out of you. He props himself up to have a look. Then he’s quiet. He lifts his hand and holds it like he’s about to touch her neck while examining the wound. You sharply inhale and he stops short. 

“Get her outta here,” Joel mutters. “Give us a minute.” 

Carter replies, “Where'd that come from–” 

“I’ll handle it,” Joel cuts him off. "Get her outta here."

A clap of thunder.

“Did you cum,” you ask Carter with a blank face. He stares at you with his mouth slightly agape, and you could swear you see him blush.

Saving both of you from Joel's wrath, Carter pretends you were talking to his girl. "She woulda."

"well, she wasn't--" you think about telling Carter his girl wasn't thinking about him, but think better of it. You don't wanna hurt him. "Nevermind."

As he puts his boxers on, Carter boldly tells Joel, "this was always gonna be trouble." Bewildered, he looks back and forth between you and Joel behind you.

Then, Carter helps his girl off the bed. "Alright, come on, baby."

You don’t look directly at her. You’re spaced out.

"i know, baby," he cradles her head as she stands up. He ushers her to the kitchen to look at her neck. 

-

Joel gets up from the bed and pulls on his boxers. 

Bullet is going nuts in the bathroom.

“Do you think Bullet’s okay?” you ask, but Joel doesn't check on him or let him out. All he does is close the bedroom door. As he’s slowly making his way back to you, lightning flashes. 

Joel’s jaw flexes as he stares you down from the shadow of his brow, fingers twitching at his sides. 

He reaches the edge of the bed where you lie. He stands there, facing you.

“That was...bad,” he scolds calmly. Your heart sinks. You would rather him be mad than disappointed. If you deserve anything it's to get smacked around a bit, not this serious face from him.

You sit up, sit back on your knees, and try to hug him. Your eyes water, and your apology barely croaks out. "I'm sorry, you repeat." He feels even taller than usual from this angle. You lower your head, with your arms still loosely around him, nuzzling your hair against his tummy. 

He pulls away a bit and lifts your chin to look at him. Lightning flashes. 

He takes a firm hold of your jaw. “Biting. . .is not okay.” His jaw clenches, and he reads your eyes trying to see if you got it. “Ever,” he adds. The look on his face tells you not to argue.

“Yes sir,” you mumble. 

"You okay?" He asks.

"Okay," he nods to himself. His glistening chest heaves. His neck vein is bulging as he looks down at you. "God damn," he whispers to himself, sounding annoyed. He cracks his neck with no hands, trying to relax.

“You're trying not to hurt me,” you observe. 

He takes a deep breath through his nose and slowly nods as he exhales. “Cause I know how much ya like it.”

You rub your lips together and look down and away. He lays a gentle hand on your head.

When you look up to meet his eyes again, he’s trying to suppress a smile. 

---

----

-----

Ty for reading and compartmentalizing lol 🖤

[bunnliix]

Misunderstandings and Surprises

This was a very fun fic to write, and was also created/brainstormed with the help of the lovely @potatomountain, who I credit with me writing this with Hongjoong instead of Seonghwa hehe. Plus giving me lots of inspo with many pictures of Hongjoong.

Pairing: Hongjoong x reader Summary: You're fed up with your boyfriend putting work ahead of spending time with you, and confront him about it. wc: 1.9k AU: n/a Genre: Fluff/Angst warnings: yelling, fighting, crying, angst with a happy ending, threats of breaking up

You had been at odds with your boyfriend for almost a week now, after he had continued to cancel your dates and time together in favor of hanging with the rest of Ateez or working in the studio for the past couple weeks. You just wanted an hour with your boyfriend, but you only got him when he woke you up while he climbed in bed beside you. You knew what you were signing up for when dating an idol, but this was just too fucking much.

You decided enough was enough, and paid a visit to the company while you knew the boys had dance practice, so you knew he wouldn’t be in the studio where you couldn’t get in as easily. After saying hello to the front desk receptionist and showing your pass allowing you access, she waved as you walked towards the elevators to head up a couple floors to the dance rooms.

The ride up, though quick, only made you more pissed off and upset that you even had to resort to doing this. Once the doors opened, you were on a mission and staff who saw you coming moved out of your way as you headed straight towards the room that was blasting Ateez’s music. Not caring if you interrupted, you pushed the door open and shouted, “KIM HONGJOONG!”

The man in question abruptly turned around and focused on you, the blood draining from his face momentarily at your tone before all emotions were wiped off his face. “Why are you here, interrupting practice?” He asked you calmly.

“Because I’m done with not being able to see my boyfriend.” You said in response. 

“We’ve seen each other lately, what do you mean?” He asked you, confused and concerned at your words.

“If you’re counting you waking me up while I’m in bed, sure. But I have barely seen hide nor hair of you otherwise Hongjoong. And I can’t do that anymore. So either you figure out a better work-life balance, or we’re done. I need a boyfriend that doesn’t disappear on me for days at a time.” You said, your voice breaking at the end as tears welled up in your eyes, before you couldn’t take it anymore and left the room, heading back the way you came.

“Wait! Come back here!” You could hear Hongjoong yell after you, but you couldn’t face him. Before you could make it to the elevator, your wrist was grabbed.

“Please, can I explain? Don’t walk away from me, from us.” Hongjoong pleaded with you, though you refused to look at him, knowing if you did, you’d break down and give in.

“Hongjoong, I need a boyfriend who isn’t going to disappear and be unreachable, who will make me the priority sometimes, at the very least. This is just the breaking point, I can’t do this anymore if it continues like this, I’m sorry.” You replied, looking away from him.

He turned you around to face him, but you wouldn’t look up at him, keeping your gaze trained on the ground in between the two of you. This frustrated your boyfriend to no end, and you could tell by his clenched fist.

“Look at me, please.” Hongjoong begged you while you shook your head.

“Why should I?” You asked him.

The idol didn’t answer you, instead pulling you into the elevator as it opened and people got off, punching the button for the floor that held his own studio. He pulled you behind him, you lacking any will to do anything but let him do what he wanted, and once you were both in the room, he shut and locked the door, before placing himself in between the door and yourself. You plopped down on the sofa in the room, sensing that you wouldn’t be going anywhere.

“Will you let me explain? And please, can you look at me, just once?” He asked, repeating himself from earlier.

“Why? So I can look in your pretty fucking eyes and give in and let you explain again and again why you couldn’t see me for so long? Why work comes before everything else, including me, your partner? Hongjoong, we’ve been together for three years, why is it that recently you’re so occupied with work? You’ve never been like this, and I can’t see why you’re like this now. You’ve been on the go almost all year, and finally when I think you’re home, you can’t find the fucking time to spend with me?!” You rambled on and on, your voice growing louder and louder until you’re shouting. Hongjoong had tried multiple times to interrupt you, and without realizing it, you had angered your boyfriend with your rambling.

You felt fingers grip your chin tightly, and your head was forcibly turned to look at him, but you still averted your eyes.

“Look at me, darling. Now.” You heard him growl, anger the only emotion in his voice. It’s what made you give in and look at him, your eyes making contact with his own.

“Thank you. Now, if you had only let me explain, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself so worked up.” He said, almost treating you like a child.

“I got worked up because I felt that my boyfriend was ignoring me!” You retorted back.

Hongjoong took a deep breath, pulling away from you as clearly you were too upset right now to have a normal conversation. “How about we both take a couple deep breaths and have a conversation and talk honestly about our feelings?” He proposed to you, and you reluctantly agreed, still feeling the anger simmering underneath your skin.

“Can you explain to me why you’re feeling the way you’re feeling, darling?” Hongjoong asked you, his eyes pleading with you to talk to him.

“I felt like I was being pushed aside in favor of your work or time with the boys. I know it’s not fair or healthy to make you only focus on me, but these last couple of weeks have felt so lonely. I feel like I haven't seen you lately Hongjoong. I only get to have you around me when I’m about to go to bed, and you’re usually gone in the morning. I don’t feel like I have a boyfriend.” You explained, eyes welling up with tears once again.

Hongjoong’s face fell, and you could see tears gathering in his own eyes. You were slightly confused at why he was getting so upset, until he opened his mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry for how my actions have caused you to feel hurt like this, dear. I never meant to make you feel this way, and I’m sorry I have. Can I explain a bit of why I was gone so much?” At your nod, he continued, “I have been occupied with work and hanging out with the members, but it’s also partially been an excuse to keep you from wondering why I’ve been gone so much. In truth, the boys were helping me plan something for you, something that honestly was a long time coming.” He told you, getting up from his chair to move to grab something from one of the desk drawers.

He turned around to face you again, a box in his hand, before talking once again , “The boys were helping me design something for you, as well as plan it all out. I wanted to make it perfect and a surprise, but I think it’s better for me to come clean about it now.” He knelt down on the ground in front of you, looking up at you with love in his eyes, love for you, before opening the box to show you a ring inside. 

“I’ve honestly wanted to marry you after six months of dating you, but I never could find the perfect ring, or the time to plan everything out. I wanted it to be perfect because I needed you to know how special you are to me, how much you matter to me. I love you, you’re my entire world, darling. I know this is horrible timing and honestly I wouldn’t get upset if you told me no, but would you marry me?” Hongjoong asked you, sincerity in his eyes.

You didn’t expect this to be why your boyfriend had been almost a ghost lately. You never even had the thought and you felt so bad now for assuming the worst, for assuming that he was putting work and the group ahead of you. He wanted to make it perfect for you, and now you had gone and made him change his plans. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and Hongjoong panicked, putting down the box in favor of moving to cup your cheeks, wiping away your tears with his thumbs.

“Baby, why are you crying? Talk to me, love,” he asked you, tears once again appearing in his own eyes.

“I thought the worst of you, I thought you weren’t making me a priority in your life but you were planning to propose to me! You wanted to marry me and I was thinking that you weren’t even thinking of me!” You cried out, sobbing as your boyfriend moved to wrap you in his arms, shushing your cries.

“I get where you’re coming from, baby, and I should have communicated with you better. I should have been clearer that I wasn’t putting you behind my work or my friends, and I’m sorry for not communicating with you and reassuring you.” Hongjoong apologized to you, kissing the top of your head.

“I’m sorry,” you replied, as he told you again that you didn’t need to apologize.

“I think we both need to be a bit better at communicating.” He said, waving away any more apologies you tried to make.

“I wanna marry you too!” You blurted out, not having planned on saying that, but it came out anyway. “I know I said I was ready to leave you but knowing everything now, it only makes me love you more. You did all of this, for me. You roped the boys into helping you, and into deceiving me, cause they knew about this and still said that Ateez was just busy!”

“I asked them not to say anything, I wanted to make it a surprise. I’m sorry that it ended up like this.” Hongjoong explained further, explaining his plan and how he wanted to have asked you.

You wiped the last remaining tears from your eyes and tried not to sniffle, but failed, before speaking once again. “If you aren’t mad at me, would you mind asking me one more time?” You asked your boyfriend.

Hongjoong smiled softly at you, before getting down on one knee, his original plan completely out the window. “Will you marry me, and make me the happiest man?” He asked you, looking up at you.

Nodding, you softly said, “Of course I will, if you will take me, my stupid decisions and all.”

“You stupid decisions are what make you, you. I wouldn’t have you any other way, I want you to be yourself and no one else.” Hongjoong told you, as he slid the ring on your finger.

You pulled him up for a hug, before he pulled you down onto the couch, with your head laying on his chest. He leaned down to kiss your forehead, as the two of you laid there.

“I love you, darling. So very much.”

“I love you too, Kim Hongjoong.”

Later that night, a picture was posted to Hongjoong’s instagram of two hands, his own and yours, with matching engagement rings on both. A simple caption accompanied it, “Forever yours.”

Taglist: @bethelighthalazia

[togrowoldinv]

Early

Firefighter Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When Natasha gets off work early, she comes home to find you in need of her

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, R taking care of business solo, fingering (R receiving), Nat being cocky as always

Note: Firefighter Nat 🔥 Enjoy!

Burning Red AU, Main Masterlist

“Baby, I’m home early!” Natasha calls out as she enters your newly shared home. “Babe?” She calls out again when she gets no response.

Nat walks further into the house and pours herself a glass of water. That’s when she hears soft moans coming from the bedroom. Her first reaction is worry, but then she listens closer.

She waits by the slightly cracked bedroom door and listens again. She would know that sound anywhere. Nat patiently lets you get further along before she pushes the door open.

“Are you close?” Natasha’s voice sounds through the room.

“Fuck,” you mumble as you quickly pull the covers over you and drop your phone onto the bed. “I’m sorry, Nat.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize,” Natasha says. She is wearing an amused smile. “And don’t let me interrupt.”

You feel heat all over your body at the way she grins at you. Nat makes her way over to the bed. She is wearing gray sweatpants and a shirt from work. You always think that attire is one of her best looks.

“What were you looking at, hm?” Natasha asks, sitting on the edge of the bed. She reaches for your phone, but you grip her hand before she can pick it up. “Oh, come on, babe. It can’t be that bad. I won’t judge.”

“No, it’s just um- it’s not bad,” you say. Nat eases her hand out of your grasp and picks up the phone.

You wait anxiously as she looks at the screen. She sees an album with photos full of her. Ones she has sent you and you have taken of her.

“You were looking at me?” She asks, her lips quirked into a smirk.

“Yeah,” you admit, not quite able to make eye contact with her.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Nat says.

“Really?” You ask shyly.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” Natasha brings her hand to your face and makes you look at her. “Do you do this often?”

You shrug, and Nat chuckles.

“Let me rephrase that. I hope you do this often. I don’t want my baby so achy and needy,” Nat adds.

You blush at her words. Natasha reaches for the covers and pulls them down from your chest. She sees you’re in a lacy bra with essentially no coverage. She likes this one.

She asks for permission with her eyes before reaching behind you to unclip the bra. Nat takes her time feeling every inch of your breasts with her strong hands. The difference between her work warn skin and your soft skin makes every touch feel so right.

Nat leans in but stops short of kissing you.

“You know you never answered my question,” Natasha says, her voice dripping with lust. “Are you close?”

“I was,” you say. “But then- you know.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. But I actually think I can make it up to you,” Natasha says.

She kisses your lips and before she pulls away she licks your lip. You chase after her lips but she moves her attention to your neck. Nat drops kisses along the sensitive skin. Her hands continue to work over your breasts, taking your nipples in between her fingers.

“Natasha,” you whimper when she moves one hand down between your legs.

Her fingers easily slide through your wet folds. Nat knows it won’t take much to get you off.

“So, you were looking at me,” Natasha says between kisses to your neck and face. “Were you thinking about me too?”

You nod and Nat grips your breast harder in her hand. You know that means she wants to hear you.

“Yes I was,” you say.

“Mhm, I thought so, sweetheart,” Nat says. “What were you thinking about?”

“You taking care of me just like this,” you say. Your voice comes out labored with heavy breaths.

“Oh yeah? Was I doing this?” Nat asks, inserting two of her fingers inside of you.

“Fuck,” you whimper. “Yes. That’s it, Nat.”

“Good girl,” Natasha says. “So fucking good for me. I bet you’re already ready to come, aren’t you sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you moan out.

Natasha brings her lips back to yours and captures them in a searing kiss. With the feeling of her hand between your legs and her tongue brushing against yours, you are reaching your high in no time.

When you come back down, Natasha pulls you into a hug. Your bare body against her clothing reminds her of what state she found you in.

“Fuck yes, baby,” Natasha says. “That was much better than photos of me, hm?”

“You’re the real thing, Natasha,” you say.

“I love you,” Nat says.

“I love you too, Natasha. You’re not going to tease me later about this, are you?”

“I might,” Nat admits. “But I will also continue to give you the content you need for it.”

You smile at that. Natasha stands up from the bed and reaches for your hand. She pulls you into the bathroom and draws a bath for the two of you.

The two of you spend the rest of the evening relaxing and making each other feel so good. Natasha is so glad she got off work early.