#they can Fix us and take us to the promise land :')

[cementcornfield]

👀

[scealaiscoite]

‧₊˚ 🗣️ ✩ three hundred assorted dialogue prompts

¹⁾ “it’s too early for this.”

²⁾ “say that again, but take all the words bigger than two syllables out for me.”

³⁾ “you never came to bed last night.”

⁴⁾ “ibuprofen and a red bull is not breakfast.”

⁵⁾ “where the fuck have you been?!”

⁶⁾ “i can’t believe you told him.”

⁷⁾ “look, all i’m trying to tell you i- oh god, no, please don’t cry.”

⁸⁾ “taxi- taxi!”

⁹⁾ “i broke it off last night.”

¹⁰⁾ “no way that’s true.”

¹¹⁾ “i’m not letting you sleep on the couch in your own house.”

¹²⁾ “red’s definitely your colour.”

¹³⁾ “i don’t even want to know how the glitter got there.”

¹⁴⁾ “second time the electric’s been cut off so far.”

¹⁵⁾ “come on, the water’s fine!”

¹⁶⁾ “i’m so mad at you for this, but i’m angrier at myself for knowing i’ll forgive you for it.”

¹⁷⁾ “nice tan lines.”

¹⁸⁾ “christ, i don’t know how you drink that shit.”

¹⁹⁾ “that was the best meal i’ve eaten in years.”

²⁰⁾ “i got fired yesterday.”

²¹⁾ “are those handcuffs?!”

²²⁾ “hell of defense to put on for someone you say you don’t care about anymore.”

²³⁾ “i love you, i swear it, but not enough to watch another western.”

²⁴⁾ “just hold the ladder, and i’ll do the rest.”

²⁵⁾ “is there any chilli powder left in the cupboard, or is it all on my plate?!”

²⁶⁾ “i know what exes are, and i know you two aren’t them.”

²⁷⁾ “please, please just leave me alone.”

²⁸⁾ “neither of us are leaving this room until you tell me how you got that shiner.”

²⁹⁾ “fucking liar.”

³⁰⁾ “scooch over, i’m about to fall off.”

³¹⁾ “i nicked your shirt on my way out- i hope you don’t mind.”

³²⁾ “the cold will kill us before they can if we don’t find shelter.”

³³⁾ “just- please, can’t you see she’s in pain?!”

³⁴⁾ “a pint of coors and a passionfruit martini, plea- no, i told you, i’m not calling it that!”

³⁶⁾ “only you could crochet in a time like this.”

³⁷⁾ “they know i hate boats!”

³⁸⁾ “your mother called.”

³⁹⁾ “i can smell vodka and bubblegum toothpaste on your breath, and i’m totally sure which concerns me more.”

⁴⁰⁾ “it’s midnight, please turn off the jazz.”

⁴¹⁾ “i didn’t read that book, but i slept behind [name] in bed every night for a week while they did.”

⁴²⁾ “please, we need a doctor!”

⁴³⁾ “you’ve done shitty things to me before but you’ve never been cruel.”

⁴⁴⁾ “normally i can get behind your stress baking because of how much i benefit from it, but come on. it’s two in the night; what is a red velvet cake going to fix that some sleep won’t?”

⁴⁵⁾ “i found an earring under the passenger seat.”

⁴⁶⁾ “please, if the choice is between ice cream for breakfast or whiskey, choose the fucking ice cream.”

⁴⁷⁾ “you’re still bleeding- stop and let me look at it.”

⁴⁸⁾ “we’ve been broken up for a year now. you’ve got no right to look at me like that.”

⁴⁹⁾ “mama will be home soon, promise.”

⁵⁰⁾ “in the name of the father- “

⁵¹⁾ “i’m going to lose them either way. better they hate me and live, than love me and die.”

⁵²⁾ “you have a son?!”

⁵³⁾ “boss wants to see you.”

⁵⁴⁾ “i figured we were close, i just didn’t think it was “call me at two in the morning from a police station” kind of close.”

⁵⁵⁾ “are we just going to ignore that massive rock on your finger?”

⁵⁶⁾ “you of all people don’t get to question my parenting skills.”

⁵⁷⁾ “is that a fucking chicken?!”

⁵⁸⁾ “fuck- you’re hurting me!”

⁵⁹⁾ “mind the puddles.”

⁶⁰⁾ “you’re sick. you’re not going into work, end of story.”

⁶¹⁾ “what on earth are you wearing?!”

⁶²⁾ “she’s too old for you.”

⁶³⁾ “you play mario kart like it’s your first day on earth.”

⁶⁴⁾ “you’re gonna break an ankle walking in those heels.”

⁶⁵⁾ “if it was important, you would’ve remembered i don’t answer fucking calls!”

⁶⁶⁾ “late night?”

⁶⁷⁾ “i’m terrified.”

⁶⁸⁾ “i’ll call you when i land, yeah?”

⁶⁹⁾ “try and get some sleep, pet.”

⁷⁰⁾ “where is that blood coming from?!”

⁷¹⁾ “it is sheeps or sheepses?” 

⁷²⁾ “so you can fold a paper crane from a candy wrapper, but you don’t know your times tables.”

⁷³⁾ “clerk said they only have one room left.”

⁷⁴⁾ “why did you get an apartment on the eighth fucking floor?”

⁷⁵⁾ “it’s snowing!”

⁷⁶⁾ “when the shooting starts, stay down and only look at me, okay?”

⁷⁷⁾ “how fucking dare you- i am married.”

⁷⁸⁾ “we should be safe here.”

⁷⁹⁾ “i’m at the store, what kind of monster did you want again? and don’t say ultra violet, i’m not bringing that filth into the house.”

⁸⁰⁾ “the cat misses you.”

⁸¹⁾ “i’ve been having nightmares again.”

⁸²⁾ “i can practically hear your stomach growling. come fill up a plate.”

⁸³⁾ “i’m proud of you, kid.”

⁸⁴⁾ “are you sure you’re not mad at me?”

⁸⁵⁾ “please don’t tell me you lost it.”

⁸⁶⁾ “wanna pick the movie?”

⁸⁷⁾ “bit late for boxing, no?”

⁸⁸⁾ “i don’t care if it’s harmless, kill it!!”

⁸⁹⁾ “if you so much as look in their direction again, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

⁹⁰⁾ “do you wanna go out sometime?”

⁹¹⁾ “is- is that [name]’s shirt?”

⁹²⁾ “c’mon, sit with me a minute.”

⁹³⁾ “good boy!”

⁹⁴⁾ “no, fuck- i can’t swim!”

⁹⁵⁾ “your friends are unbearable.”

⁹⁶⁾ “oh, kill me now.”

⁹⁷⁾ “can i bum a light?”

⁹⁸⁾ “just listen to me for once in your life!”

⁹⁹⁾ “someone call an ambulance!”

¹⁰⁰⁾ “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you in pink before.”

¹⁰¹⁾ “i told you i was done talking about it.”

¹⁰²⁾ “the lock’s broken- i think someone’s inside.”

¹⁰³⁾ “you kept it.”

¹⁰⁴⁾ “i have somewhere to be; make it quick.”

¹⁰⁵⁾ “you’re unbelievable.”

¹⁰⁶⁾ “they never meant anything to you, did they?”

¹⁰⁷⁾ “is the point of giving me such bad advice to force me into seeing an actual therapist?”

¹⁰⁸⁾ “your smile makes my day.” 

¹⁰⁹⁾ “how do you remember where all my jewellery goes?”

¹¹⁰⁾ “… but you’re definitely nothing more than coworkers. sure.”

¹¹¹⁾ “i’ve been waiting for this my whole life.”

¹¹²⁾ “can i help with your hair?”

¹¹³⁾ “i always forget how pretty the city looks at night.”

¹¹⁴⁾ “the dog, for all his failings, did not do that and i’m taking it personally on his part that you’re trying to claim he did.”

¹¹⁵⁾ “you have many strengths; all i’m saying is that parallel parking is not one of them.”

¹¹⁶⁾ “let me drive you home.”

¹¹⁷⁾ “thanks for bringing me in on this ritual of yours.”

¹¹⁸⁾ “what time do you have to be at court?”

¹¹⁹⁾ “do you, uh- do you maybe wanna get dinner, sometime? like, with me?”

¹²⁰⁾ “i’m- *achoo* a-allergic to one kind of- *achoo* of flowers in the whole world, and you- *cough* really m-manage to pick them out for me?”

¹²¹⁾ “table for three, please.”

¹²²⁾ “you’re getting so grey. i’m kind of liking it.”

¹²³⁾ “of course i noticed.”

¹²⁴⁾ “hey, quit forcing yourself to talk before you lose your voice altogether.”

¹²⁵⁾ “please, please wake up.”

¹²⁶⁾ “was anything you said true?”

¹²⁷⁾ “get in the fucking car!”

¹²⁸⁾ “where’d you get that?”

¹²⁹⁾ “you put me through so much, and still all i can think about is how i’d do it all again if you asked me to.”

¹³⁰⁾ “i’ll stay while you sleep. nothing’s gonna happen while i’m here, okay?”

¹³¹⁾ “you said you wanted to talk it out but all you’re doing is shouting at me!”

¹³²⁾ “we broke up a few days ago. i guess i was too embarrassed to tell you after you warned me about them.”

¹³³⁾ “family don’t pull this kind of shit on each other.”

¹³⁴⁾ “i phoned in sick. i’m yours for the day, if you’ll have me.”

¹³⁵⁾ “i’ll make the reservation, you just worry about turning up looking half as good as you do right now.”

¹³⁶⁾ “that’s still how you take your tea, isn’t it?”

¹³⁷⁾ “stop throwing those damn paper planes at me!”

¹³⁸⁾ “i’m so c-cold.”

¹³⁹⁾ “… i can hear meowing.”

¹⁴⁰⁾ “want some?”

¹⁴¹⁾ “fuck all of them, anyway.”

¹⁴²⁾ “i could look at your tattoos all day.”

¹⁴³⁾ “ever considered sending me flowers without a keycard for a hotel room tucked inside?”

¹⁴⁴⁾ “i made coffee.”

¹⁴⁵⁾ “c’mon, sit with me a minute.”

¹⁴⁶⁾ “fuck, they’re gonna flank us- get someone on the south wall, now!”

¹⁴⁷⁾ “christ, get up.”

¹⁴⁸⁾ “put some pants on.”

¹⁴⁹⁾ “it’s over!”

¹⁵⁰⁾ “not another broken bed frame.”

¹⁵¹⁾ “that thong really brings out your eyes.”

¹⁵²⁾ “you’ve already stolen from me; don’t twist the knife by lying about it, too.”

¹⁵³⁾ “... i thought you locked the back door.”

¹⁵⁴⁾ “they were saying awful things about you. every last one of them had it coming.”

¹⁵⁵⁾ “so you had a can of monster and a pack of sour patch kids for breakfast eight hours ago, and you really don’t understand why you have a headache?”

¹⁵⁶⁾ “i think someone’s in the house.”

¹⁵⁷⁾ “walk me home?”

¹⁵⁸⁾ “this song reminds me of you.”

¹⁵⁹⁾ “can you pick up some eggs on your way home?”

¹⁶⁰⁾ “i’ve got a flat tire.”

¹⁶¹⁾ “you broke his fucking nose!”

¹⁶²⁾ “do you remember the room number?”

¹⁶³⁾ “i can’t see anything.”

¹⁶⁴⁾ “lab results are back.”

¹⁶⁵⁾ “is it really so hard to pick up the damn phone when i call?”

¹⁶⁶⁾ “don’t you dare run.”

¹⁶⁷⁾ “bulleit, please. neat.”

¹⁶⁸⁾ “will you marry me?”

¹⁶⁹⁾ “how did you get tickets?!”

¹⁷⁰⁾ “your tie’s all crooked.”

¹⁷¹⁾ “license and insurance, please.”

¹⁷²⁾ “i’ll get a nurse in to do your sutures, and then we’ll send you on your way.”

¹⁷³⁾ “you’re a dead man.”

¹⁷⁴⁾ “you’re the worst thing to ever happen to me.”

¹⁷⁵⁾ “no, this is her secretary. i can take a message, if you’d like?”

¹⁷⁶⁾ “the money’s gone.”

¹⁷⁷⁾ “yeah, but it’ll cost you.”

¹⁷⁸⁾ “we need to find that phone.”

¹⁷⁹⁾ “can i crash here tonight?”

¹⁸⁰⁾ “i, um… i saw you. online.”

¹⁸¹⁾ “what do you mean husband?!”

¹⁸²⁾ “the fire’s growing- we need to keep moving.”

¹⁸³⁾ “your lipstick’s all over me!”

¹⁸⁴⁾ “four broken ribs… fuck.”

¹⁸⁵⁾ “what happened in shanghai?”

¹⁸⁶⁾ “you and these awful horror movies!”

¹⁸⁷⁾ “next door’s cat is back. do you remember where i put the kibble?”

¹⁸⁸⁾ “glitter and faux fur. classy.”

¹⁸⁹⁾ “since when were you blonde?!”

¹⁹⁰⁾ “do i even want to know?”

¹⁹¹⁾ “we were by a river. that’s all i remember.”

¹⁹²⁾ “please, let me call you a cab.”

¹⁹³⁾ “my hands are killing me, get these damn zipties off.”

¹⁹⁴⁾ “you don’t have to talk, if you don’t want to.”

¹⁹⁵⁾ “i read your last article. you’re not half bad at this shit.”

¹⁹⁶⁾ “is now a bad time to say i’m afraid of heights.”

¹⁹⁷⁾ “- quick, hide!”

¹⁹⁸⁾ “test came back negative.”

¹⁹⁹⁾ “say, ah.”

²⁰⁰⁾ “some friends they turned out to be.”

²⁰¹⁾  “you look oddly good in sequins.”

²⁰²⁾ “now there’s a headline: murder in mittens.”

²⁰³⁾ “we need to swab your hands for gunpowder residue.”

²⁰⁴⁾ “black, three sugars.” 

²⁰⁵⁾ “i need you to listen to me, okay? this cannot happen again. ever.”

²⁰⁶⁾ “we shouldn’t be here.”

²⁰⁷⁾ “if you’re going to be such a die-hard fan, could you please start picking better teams? for my sake?”

²⁰⁸⁾ “… did you make me a packed lunch?”

²⁰⁹⁾ “i got a little bit stabbed.”

²¹⁰⁾ “no, it’s too late; you’re not walking home alone.”

²¹¹⁾ “i don’t care if she’s ten, she cannot be led to believe that derek is an acceptable name for a cat!”

²¹²⁾ “they were just here.”

²¹³⁾ “oh captain, my captai- “

²¹⁴⁾ “come to my room in ten.”

²¹⁵⁾ “no part of this was in the training manual.”

²¹⁶⁾ “i think i’m gonna lie down for a bit.”

²¹⁷⁾ “i can’t come out tonight, i’ve got to re-pot my roses.”

²¹⁸⁾ “you kick like an ass in your sleep.” 

²¹⁹⁾ “i think we kissed.”

²²⁰⁾ “i never want to be a burden to you.”

²²¹⁾ “there’s someone in the trees.”

²²²⁾ “where’s that smoke coming from?”

²²³⁾ “my sheets smell like you.”

²²⁴⁾ “what did sarge say?”

²²⁵⁾ “the funeral’s at ten.”

²²⁶⁾ “she’s asystolic.” 

²²⁷⁾ “it’s too loud in here. i’m going to start biting people.”

²²⁸⁾ “give it back!”

²²⁹⁾ “don’t make me call the cops!”

²³⁰⁾ “we tried everything. i’m sorry.”

²³¹⁾ “another round?”

²³²⁾ “come on the carousel with me, and i’ll think about it.”

²³³⁾ “this is why we didn’t stay married.”

²³⁴⁾ “i like your hair.”

²³⁵⁾ “homicide are on the way.”

²³⁶⁾ “i just ran.”

²³⁷⁾ “want a drink?”

²³⁸⁾ “i’m scared of the things i feel for you.”

²³⁹⁾ “can you remember anything about last night?”

²⁴⁰⁾ “you left this at mine.”

²⁴¹⁾ “i made us a reservation.”

²⁴²⁾ “pass the goddamn ball!”

²⁴³⁾ “someone cut the brake lights.”

²⁴⁴⁾ “wanna come to vegas with me?”

²⁴⁵⁾ “… did you use my body wash?”

²⁴⁶⁾ “go shower, then we’ll talk.”

²⁴⁷⁾ “how dare you say something like that to me!”

²⁴⁸⁾ “there’s a letter for you.”

²⁴⁹⁾ “i need to see you. now.”

²⁵⁰⁾ “i’ll kick this fucking door open!”

²⁵¹⁾ “don’t look at me like that.”

²⁵²⁾ “i can’t do this anymore.”

²⁵³⁾ “got a light?”

²⁵⁴⁾ “i don’t care if we both get hypothermia, i’m not sharing a sleeping bag with you!”

²⁵⁵⁾ “do you hate me?”

²⁵⁶⁾ “please don’t leave.”

²⁵⁷⁾ “i’m sorry i missed dinner.”

²⁵⁸⁾ “i have a name, and it’s sure as hell not kid.”

²⁵⁹⁾ “you are a grown man, don’t pout.”

²⁶⁰⁾ “ah, look who’s awake.”

²⁶¹⁾ “if you’re after a ransom, i’m sorry to say you picked the wrong person.”

²⁶²⁾ “don’t you dare track all that sawdust in here! leave your boots at the door.”

²⁶³⁾ “if you’re not here to pay my tab, you can leave.”

²⁶⁴⁾ “you’re so warm.”

²⁶⁵⁾ “bit kinky for a monday morning, don’t you think?”

²⁶⁶⁾ “not again!”

²⁶⁷⁾ “i think i pulled something.”

²⁶⁸⁾ “kiss me.”

²⁶⁹⁾ “watcha reading?”

²⁷⁰⁾ “i ordered room service. possibly on your card.”

²⁷¹⁾ “this isn’t gonna work out.”

²⁷²⁾ “i saved you a seat.”

²⁷³⁾ “the dog got ahold of your scarf.”

²⁷⁴⁾ “i want to see my son.”

²⁷⁵⁾ “my friend’s an ass, i’m sorry.”

²⁷⁶⁾ “please, she could scare the balls off a brass monkey with a single look.”

²⁷⁷⁾ “you’re an almerciful pain the ass.”

²⁷⁸⁾ “give my compliments to the chef.”

²⁷⁹⁾ “wanna catch a movie at the weekend?”

²⁸⁰⁾ “you said i only had to stay for an hour- you got an hour and seven minutes! what more could you possibly want from me?!”

²⁸¹⁾ “i think i left my phone at the bar.”

²⁸²⁾ “... why is there a pool noodle in the hall?”

²⁸³⁾ “can you turn the lights off?”

²⁸⁴⁾ “was any of it real?”

²⁸⁵⁾ “do i want to know how you got that nickname.”

²⁸⁶⁾ “you’re like if an angel had a very severe ketamine problem.”

²⁸⁷⁾ “i think i fucked up my ankle last night.”

²⁸⁸⁾ “take the sunglasses off.”

²⁸⁹⁾ “i don’t know how i’m going to forgive you for this.”

²⁹⁰⁾ “i can’t believe i fell for this shit again.”

²⁹¹⁾ “morning, killer.”

²⁹²⁾ “who names a goldfish andrew?”

²⁹³⁾ “... i could’ve sworn you had too eyebrows last time we spoke.”

²⁹⁴⁾ “i’m scared shitless of dolls.”

²⁹⁵⁾ “how’d you get the shiner?”

²⁹⁶⁾ “here, let me help.”

²⁹⁷⁾ “look, my tomatoes are finally ripe!”

²⁹⁸⁾ “you can hold my hand, if it’d help.”

²⁹⁹⁾ “i brought you croissants. as like, um, an olive branch.”

³⁰⁰⁾ “do you trust me?”

[vervainandspritz]

JUST ANOTHER OF YOUR MISTAKES

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Request made by @justsumtuffstuff: Could you do a tommy shelby imagine where you secretly have his kid but don’t tell him until one day aunt polly sees you and is like “holy shit” but that’s not the surprise, the surprise is you have twins. Just a lot of angst and fluff pretty please? ((:

This fic will have two parts!

Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, grieving, a lot of pain, eventual fluff, smut

A/N: It's a.. heavy fic, so beware. Interact for more

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

~~

The land of Birmingham seemed to never change, not one bit. Ever since the first people settled there, the sky hung over them as if by force, never clear enough to see prospects for the future. Robbing the poor kids of dreams, of the loud thumping in their hearts caused by excitement for the good that never came.

It would seem that God has lost his way to Birmingham, not to mention Small Heath. Dirt, smoke and silence that rang too loud when working men would finish their shifts in factories seeking peace in their homes. After all, the human brain can get used to everything.

What was the difference between going to sleep hungry every night, and the relentless churning in the depths of her stomach that Y/N felt? Pain that never let go, waking up along her side like a loyal husband, never ceasing to accompany her throughout the day. Never loosening the hold on her heart.

Oh, how cruel the fate can be, Y/N thought, looking at the white ceiling of her bedroom. One she slept in for many nights too long, carrying the weight of the curse on her shoulders.

Because she was cursed, that one she was sure. Seeing the man she loved more than anything else in the world, losing himself in the grief after another woman.

Because that was the woman whose name Y/N dared not speak or even think. That's who she was, another woman. Embodiment of pain and betrayal of so many promises, taking away the beautiful, blue gaze Y/N yearned for so badly.

God must have been so cruel, putting her through the uncertainty of ever seeing him again throughout the war, and then taking him away.

Taking him away from Y/N, and letting her watch the process. Letting her see the distance growing, the dilated pupils in his eyes after each doze of opium, fruitlessly trying to numb the pain he carried.

Y/N couldn't help but wake up everyday, wondering how different his grief would be if it was her who died. Would he cry? Would he push the other woman away, like he did her? Sometimes the pain felt like too much to handle, but Y/N would never try to pull the trigger. Subconsciously feeling the weight of shame in her chest if she'd ever somehow found out she was right. That he wouldn't care.

So she lived, losing pieces of her heart day by day, warming his bed whenever he saw it convenient.

Until that one day came, that was. Hearing the... Scary, oh so scary news from her doctor she visited in secret. Putting both of her hands on her still flat stomach, she didn't feel anything physically. Yet it was enough to find the strength, buried so deep in her heart.

The love she felt for her unborn children outweighed the love for him.

The tension in Arrow house felt heavier than usual, as Y/N dragged her heavy suitcase down the stairs before slowly making her way to his office. The pain, longing in her heart slowing her down, extending the seconds into forever.

Y/N took a deep breath as her hand pressed down on the metal handle, the loud click echoing throughout the mostly empty room. Wordlessly she slipped inside, walking up to his desk quietly, letting out a shaky breath when she stopped mere inches away from the wooden furniture. His eyes didn't move from the documents he was reading, an empty gaze fixed on black letters despite knowing she was there. Y/N waited for a second, giving him a chance to look at her. Hoping he would.

But he didn't.

”I'm leaving” she said, loud enough to be heard. Silence followed her words, loud like never before as her heart squeezed in anticipation, silently begging him to stop her. To say something. Several moments passed before he finally did, making her heart stop for a mere second.

”Safe travels, Y/N Y/L/N” He responded in a cold, husky voice and for a moment, Y/N wondered who he was, wearing his face but sounding so different.

But the dust settled, just like the weight of his words as soon as she closed the door behind her back for what she thought would be the last time.

~~

Polly's eyes cut through his skin like a blade, her gaze never changing after that one feral day. The look of contempt and disgrace not even a bit different than one she gave him finding out what happened, back then.

”I was hoping you wouldn't be so stupid” She hissed, leaning forward, reaching for a cigarette with a shaky hand. Her eyes were teary, as she inhaled the smoke. ”When you were younger I saw your mother in your eyes. Now, they're full of greed and foolishness. Just like your father's” She spat out with contempt, raising from the chair. Quickly walking up to his own, she kneeled down for a moment, to meet his gaze.

One so empty, that gave her goosebumps.

”I will never forgive you, and... Neither will you.” She whispered. ”But you will have to live with the choice you made.”

Her words echoed loudly in his head several minutes after Polly left... And they never stopped ringing now, thirty eight months later. Thomas counted, every morning to be sure. After sobering up it was difficult to tell days apart. He rarely slept, fearful of the dreams he had at first.

He saw her, she was so close and yet no matter how fast Tommy ran, he couldn't reach her. Out of his reach no matter how hard he screamed or cried. Looking at him with the burning tears he caused.

It took him three months to sober up, give up on opium and... Feel. Thomas wasn't ready for the hellish pain that dawned on him once the drug wore off. The terrifying longing that dawned on him when he felt the remnants of her perfume on his pillow. The lack of relief he hoped for so badly, throwing away every single Grace's belonging he held onto previously, burning the photos and destroying the items, but it never came.

As time stretched, it became more intense. Thomas carried the pain and guilt wherever he went, finding the smallest bit of relief only in his office, searching for Y/N in every piece of England day by day.

Replaying the ways in which he treated her, internally setting himself on fire and forcing himself to feel every bit of it. Because that's what he deserved, to feel and carry the cross he created with his own hands.

Oh how beautiful the pain was, as he'd lean back in his armchair, closing his eyes and remembering her gaze. Her scent and her laugh, echoing so lively in his mind.

...but none of it worked, no matter how many people searched. How much money he spent on the search. Almost like she disappeared into thin air.

Day by day he was dying a little, bleeding through the wounds he so desperately prevented from healing every single time. Keeping the memory of her alive in his mind, not letting the hope die. Because it was all he had. Glimmer of hope. The leader of Peaky blinders became even worse than before. The pain shaped his mind in unknown ways, as the limitless cruelty became visible to anyone who dared to cross his path. Peaky Blinders were unmatched.

Nobody besides Thomas held onto the hope anymore. Knowing Y/N for so long, John and Artur knew she wouldn't come back. Not if her life depended on it. Polly only prayed for her safety.

...and Y/N? She stopped praying once her children were born. After finding out she'd have twins, she prayed every night for them to be born healthy. It was all that mattered.

Not the fact that she had to be using a fake name after moving to Coventry, mere miles away from Birmingham. But she couldn't afford to move further.

It's been.. so fucking hard. Everything. Y/N spent every night crying, begging any God that would listen to take away the pain in her heart. The pain that her babies only managed to lessen. Working as a waitress on nightshifts after accepting the kindness of her older neighbour. Mrs Wilson offered to take care of her boys while she works to help her make ends meet. Y/N had no idea what she would do without a woman she grew to call her only family.

”It's no problem, honey. They're little angels” She said quietly with a kind smile, taking one of the boys into her arms mere days after they were born.

The pain Y/N felt by having to leave her kids every night was stronger than the physical one. Having to work a demanding job after giving birth to keep the roof over their heads.

She cried, cried so much that eventually tears ran out and all she could do was.. keep trying. The two little people by her side were giving her strength. Light that she couldn't see before them, and only existed because they were here. Keeping her own heart beating.

***

”Are you sure? I can take care of them while you go, honey. You know how much I love them, don't you?” The older lady offered eagerly, caressing Nick's cheek with a smile, and a hint of concern while she glanced at Y/N.

”Thank you, but I will take them. The least I can do is spend time with them throughout the day.” Y/N responded, smiling sadly to her neighbour who just nodded along, understanding the allusion.

Letting out a sigh, she put her hands together.

”Be careful, dear.”

Y/N squeezed her hand lightly before pulling away as she held her son's hand, while carrying the other one on her hip.

”Always”

Travelling via train took no longer than forty minutes, and with each passing mile, Y/N's anxiety grew. She hasn't been in Birmingham for a long time now, not looking back.

Yet, because of her official address being still in the Arrow house, she needed to visit the office to complete documentation for boys. She put it off as long as she could, but it was inevitable now.

Despite the negative emotions, Y/N couldn't felt.. better, having her babies with her. The familiar facial expressions or blue orbs were enough to sometimes bring her to tears, but she couldn't love them more. They were a perfect little copy of the man whose name was engraved on her heart. The older they were, the more similar looking they were and now at dashing two and a half years, both boys were troublemakers.

Slowly making their way through Birmingham, Y/N held one little hand, chatting away with Nick, who was more energised than his brother who slept soundly in his mum's arms.

”...and dat?” He asked, pointing towards the building and glancing curiously at his mama. Y/N smiled at his curiosity, seeing how similar personality wise he was to her.

”that's a house” She replied calmly. The little boy cheered loudly, throwing his arms in the air.

"Yaay! Hooose!” He squealed making her chuckle, not caring about the scolding glances from other passengers.

A couple minutes later the other little one woke up, and started fussing because obviously he also wanted to walk now, while Nick wanted to be carried now. Sighing, Y/N put one of the kids down, and as she managed to pick up little Nick, she gasped loudly seeing her son's legs already in motion as he ran towards the crowd.

”Tommy! Thomas, stop!” She yelled after him, chasing him with Nick on her hip who watched the whole thing with his blue eyes wide open. ”Tommy!” She yelled once again, and he finally turned around, stumbling upon someone.

Y/N closed the distance as fast as she could, grabbing little Tommy and pulling him back to his feet, as she checked for any bruises – found none.

”I'm so sorry, i–” She started out, wanting to apologise to the random passenger, but words died on her tongue as soon as her eyes locked with the familiar brown ones.

”Y/N?” Polly stumbled out in shock.

Fuck

Part two upcoming

[sttoru]

.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. pussy slapping hcs w the jjk men (gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna) + small drabbles attached.

⋆ tags. dom!character x female reader (separate). smut. pwp. pussy slapping. dirty talk. further warnings before each small drabble. based on an anon request; sorry, tumblr fucked up ⋆ wc. 1.1k total

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

likes to see the facial expressions you make, so he always has you on your back when he does it.

is always teasingly slow. never rushes the process—even if you beg him to satisfy you properly.

the wet sounds your sopping cunt makes, is what he does it for. the view is something he finds rather endearing as well.

tags. mocking. edging. nicknames used; ‘sweetheart,’

“mph! ‘toru, please. . .” your legs shake with each slap to your cunt. satoru’s grinning from ear to ear, enjoying every little noise you make as his palm pats your pussy lightly. he’s going so slow—trying to get on your nerves by not allowing you to cum just yet.

“‘toru, please’,” satoru repeats your words in a high-pitched tone. he giggles at his own tease before planting a sweet kiss on the side of your chest, glazed over eyes still looking down at your cunt. your juices are coating his slender fingers and it takes every ounce of his strength to not lick them off. to taste the sweetness.

the slow slaps and the time interval between them drove you to insanity. the pleasure comes and goes—it’s torturous. satoru pouts as you pout, mirroring your actions with a shit-eating grin, “patience, sweetheart. just a few more, i promise. i’ll fuck you reaaal good afterwards.”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

does it when you least expect it, because that man loves to catch you off guard.

he can be gentle or rough about it—depends on his mood. if he’s in a good mood, the little slaps are meant to stimulate your clit for your own satisfaction. if he’s in a shit mood, the firm slaps are meant as punishment.

tags. p in v. doggy style. condescending tones. nicknames used ‘princess’.

“what now, princess?” suguru murmurs right into your ear. his chest is pressed against your back, one hand slithering down your waist to your hip and between your legs. you’re whining, unlike before, when you had the audacity to hold back your moans and act like you didn’t like what he was doing.

“where’d that attitude go, hm?” suguru grunts, clicking his tongue. you’re bratty today, but he has the solution to fix that. he pulls his hard cock out of your pulsating cunt and leaves you empty. the tips of his fingers glide over your labia instead. you try to grind back against his digits, though was met by a harsh slap instead.

your body jolts at the unexpected slap. not a moment goes by and a second one hits your pussy lips firmly. your moans are muffled by the pillow you’re biting into.

suguru sees you struggle to keep your moans to yourself and chuckles deeply. his jaw clenches and his hand lands harshly on your puffy cunt once more, “keep that attitude up and i’m not stopping until you’re screaming for mercy.”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

does it gently, but is so so nasty about it. wouldn’t be surprised if you came just from him slapping your cunt a couple times.

loves to do it when you have your panties still on. that way he can see your wetness through the fabric.

tags. praise. semi-public/exhibitionism kinda. reader wears skirt. nicknames used ‘love, angel’.

“now now, love,” kento kisses the side of your neck gently, urging you to stay still. your back is against his chest and your legs are spread with your skirt flipped up. it’s an embarrassing situation���especially because you’re in his office with your lace panties on display.

the wet spot on the fabric only grows bigger and bigger with each gentle tap of your lover’s palm. kento’s slaps are painfully soft. he knows that it’s agonising for you, but it’s a complete turn-on for him, “you’re doing so well. getting so wet and ready for my cock, mm?”

your eyes roll back from the combination of dirty talk and praise. kento chuckles, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. his fingers come in contact with your clothed clit and it makes you squirm. each little slap made you needier. the sorcerer drags his fingers up and down your pussy before slapping it again through your panties;

“if you stay still for me, i promise i’ll give you what you want, okay, angel? for me?”

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

is pretty harsh when doing it. might use his cock to do so too sometimes.

loves to do it when he’s eating you out—gives a couple slaps in between, here and there. right on your clit too.

tags. cunnilingus. degradation. reader gets called ‘little girl’.

“nasty fuckin’ pussy. look at her,” toji scoffs once he pulls his mouth away from your messy cunt. he’s been lapping up your juices for a couple minutes now, the clear fluid smeared all around his lips.

the tip of his tongue drags up and down your slit—tracing circles around your clit. your hands grab onto toji’s black hair, gaining a deep grunt from him. he lifts his hand and slaps your pussy in response, “hands to yrself, little girl.”

you want to comply, but the extra stimulation your body got from that slap only urges you to grip his hair tighter. toji curses under his breath, removes his head from between your thighs and makes it seem like he’s finally going to fuck you—his leaking tip suddenly placed right at your entrance.

well, you guessed wrong. toji’s veiny hand wraps around the base of his cock, only to slap it down on your sensitive clit. you moan at the contact and he answers by doing it again, “hah. thought i was gonna fuck you? nah, ‘m not doing any of that until ya know y’r place.”

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

makes it nasty by spitting on your cunt before slapping it. loves to see the mess the fluids form on your pussy lips.

has you counting the slaps probably too. if you lose count or get it wrong, he’s starting over.

does it again and again until you’re in absolute tears.

tags. true form!sukuna. over-protectiveness. mention of murder. dacryphilia. spit. reader gets called ‘brat’

“what’d i tell you about hanging around with that lowlife?” sukuna grumbles, clearly pissed off. he spits on your cunt that laid open before him. he’d ordered you to wait for him on his bed with your legs spread while he took care of some ‘business’. which was killing that man who dared to speak with you.

“fuckin’ brat. you never listen,” sukuna continues. two of his hands hold your thighs in place, another one rubs his spit all over your aching pussy. he delivers a firm slap to your cunt once it’s coated in his saliva. you whine and whimper, but the king of curses could not care less.

you know what you should do; accept and count the amount of slaps. you do exactly that, though the harsh slaps are too overstimulating for your poor pussy, causing you to sob. sukuna’s eyes have a dangerous and sadistic look in them—clearly enjoying your tears and suffering.

the sounds of your wet flesh getting slapped repeatedly echoes throughout the room. your tears, whines and bodily reactions drive sukuna absolutely insane. he breathes heavily and stops the slaps, “on all fours. now. i’m not repeating myself.”

[shinoko-oshi]

Stalker Simon pt two

part one here

As strange as it might sound, opening your eyes had been the best decision you ever made.

Because true to Simon’s word, he took care of you. Everything he’d whispered in the dark while you laid pretending to sleep— all the quiet promises, the gentle reassurances, the sickly-sweet murmurs of devotion. He meant every one of them.

He just needed the space to prove it.

It took him some time to adjust, though. A few times, out of sheer habit, he still climbed out of your bedroom window after spending the night, boots landing softly on the fire escape as if nothing had changed. You’d call his name, barely louder than a whisper, and he’d pause mid-step like a dog trained to heel. Then he’d come back inside, sheepish but smirking.

“You don’t have to do that anymore,” you’d remind him gently, fingertips grazing his sleeve. “You can use the door.”

And he would. Mostly. Though he still liked the window better.

And when it came to figuring out what to get you. Presents, dinner, the smallest things, you’d catch him snooping. Not that he hid it well. He’d dig through the trash, checking food labels, studying what you liked to eat. He’d stand in the corner watching you while you ate. He’d look through your drawers, feeling the fabric of your clothes between his fingers, noting what colors you wore most often, what styles you gravitated toward.

Because how could he not take advantage of the free range he now had to your apartment?

Still, it wasn’t until you sat him down one evening and told him if he wanted to know your favorite restaurant, your favorite color, all he had to do was ask, that something shifted.

After that, he started resting his head in your lap at night, asking about your day or what you’d eaten for lunch… as if he didn’t already know. As if he hadn’t watched it all through the cameras he’d installed with your permission.

Yeah, he knew you’d eaten leftover Chinese takeout. So what? He still wanted to hear the words come from your mouth.

And Simon? He took care of things. Anything that upset you, he fixed. Most of it small— a broken cabinet door, a burnt-out lightbulb, a neighbor who played music too loud. You never even had to mention it. Simon saw, and Simon handled it.

But sometimes bigger problems came up. your overly flirty coworker the one you were too sweet, too oblivious to notice was crossing a line. That was fine though. Simon didn’t mind taking care of that either.

Some problems messier than others. A little blood never bothered him.

“What was that, love? Your coworker passed away in a tragic car accident?”

He’d pull you into his chest, arms tight around your waist.

“Aww, that’s so sad. C’mere, sweet girl. I’ll hold you… Let’s cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie, yeah?”

(As requested :) @wordsasweapons12 @morywendell

[oceantornadoo]

team bonding

jack abbot x f!reader

undefined age gap, praise kink, smut

"alright, everyone, great work today. go home and", you raise your hand and it's clear on robby's face that he forgot about your announcement. "go ahead, doctor." he steps back a little and gives you the floor, tired brown eyes pleading with you to make it quick. "so, as you all know, i'm the admin liason." a role you picked up after robby pleaded with you to become the in-between him and gloria. you negotiated a higher salary and that was that, forced into weekly meetings with her to launch new ideas about patient satisfaction scores. everyone groans at your statement, anticipating a new rule.

"hey!" the crowd turns to dr. abbot, standing at the edge of the circle with his arms crossed, already frowning despite his recent arrival. "respect, people. i don't care if you haven't slept in twenty-four hours." everyone mutters their apologies and dr. abbot sends you a wink, a flutter of butterfly wings beat in your stomach. you nod in gratitude and continue, unable to blame robby for not stepping in since he looks like he's about to keel over from his own double shift. "as admin liason, i was able to convince gloria that to up patient satisfaction scores, we need some team bonding." the crowd doesn't groan again under abbot's watchful eye, but there's a wave of apprehension that travels through.

"so," you pause for effect, to which abbot rolls his eyes, "i got us a free night out at Taylor's!" the change is instant, a few people cheering while the rest clap. Taylor's is the favored Pitt bar, close to the hospital but on the right street where ambulance sirens don't echo and the drinks are good enough. you pass out a few clipboards with potential dates for people to fill out their availability and continue on. "it has to be this month, so pick your available times wisely. we've been promise free cover, even if the band is playing, and four drink tickets to a max of thirty people. i'll let you know what date wins next shift!" with that, you give the floor back to robby. as you step backwards, you stumble on a foot that wasn't there before.

"shit, sorry." you whisper, tracking the foot that didn't even flinch up to black scrubs before landing on abbot's face, serene and unmoving. "you picked the right foot to land on." he whispers back as robby continues his ending speech, a warm hand landing on the small of your back to steady you as you recover. "how many times have you made that joke?" you ask, smiling when he huffs. "not as many as you think. don't have a lot of people who know and chose to step on me anyway." you gasp in faux-outrage, quieting down when robby sends you a raised eyebrow. his speech concludes and the crowd disperses, some people waiting in line to fill out the availability forms.

"nice job on the free night out." abbot remarks. the praise turns you to mush, a fight to contain the warmth in your cheeks as you look at the crowd instead of him. "thanks. apparently, it's cheaper to pay for a bunch of alcohol than hire more nurses. i'll take what i can get." you answer, remembering the frustration you felt with how quickly the admins agreed to employee bonding over fixing the worker shortage. abbot nudges you, breaking you out of your memory of last week's meeting with gloria. "take your clipboards and go home, doctor. you look like you need it." he orders, pointing to the now abandoned clipboards. you gather them in your arms and adjust the strap of your bag slipping down your shoulder before turning to face him one last time. the silver that mixes in with his curly brown hair, his slashes of eyebrows, the fading scuff on his face. "you don't like my eyebags, doctor?" you blink your eyelashes suggestively, jokingly, but all he does is roll his shoulders before nodding his head to the exit. "never said that. get some rest, doctor."

never said that. he likes your eyebags?

you ignore the revelation and nod, determined to get home and sleep before contemplating your crush on your coworker.

-

the night out comes two weeks later, a rare friday where most of your crew is off at the same time. it's you, collins, and mckay sipping on drinks in a small booth and watching the baby doctors fail epically at pool. "no, huckleberry, you have to angle it this way!" santos and whittaker fight over the proper way to hold a pool stick while javadi stands off to the side, observing the pool table like she's never seen one in her life. "five bucks says whittaker accidentally hits santos with the stick." you giggle under your breath, your second drink taking affect. the two women to your right laugh, too smart to take a likely bet. "i'm insulted you're taking advantage of us in a bet you know you'll win." collins snickers, clearly tipsy from her second martini. mckay mutters under her breath that even her kid can play pool better than these idiots. you collapse into a fit of giggles at that, pitching towards the open air on your left and clutching at the table to stay seated.

except, that air is taken up by a very solid torso.

your head hits a pleasant chest, and you sink in for a second before immediately remembering yourself and straightening. when you do, abbot is looking down at you with a smirk written on his features, one hand clutching a beer and the other propped above the booth. his bicep flexes beneath his long sleeve shirt, 'US VETERAN' embroidered near his heart.

"abbot."

"think you can call me jack, seeing as you're drunk and off duty, doc." you roll your eyes. you're just tipsy and having a good time with the same people you've seen so much death with. it's something like contentment, being surrounded by your coworkers and knowing there isn't any pressure in your existence. no lives to save, no charts to fill out, just music, alcohol, and entertainment. "i'm not drunk, jack." you emphasize the syllables of his name, tasting them for the first time on your tongue. to prove your point, you hop out of the booth and stand in front of him, perfectly in control of your body. "see?"

instead of answering, jack's eyes sweep up and down your body, lightning fast. you suddenly remember the low-cut shirt you're wearing paired with your favorite jeans that show off the contours of your body usually hidden by scrubs. his gaze stops on your cleavage, just for a millisecond, but the triumph of it sinks into your bones. you take in the cargo pants he wears that cling to the muscle of his thighs, a bit tighter than the ones he wears to work. it gives you the impression that he chose his outfit on purpose, and you suddenly wonder who he had in mind when he did.

"pool?" he nods to the empty table in the corner, clearing his throat and lifting his eyes above your face like he can't look there. you say your goodbyes to mckay and collins before leading the way, picking up two abandoned pool sticks as you walk. the empty table is on the other side of the bar, obscured by the case of alcohol in the middle. you're in your own world here, tucked away from coworkers and friends alike. "not to be a cliche, but i really don't know how to play pool." you admit, handing him a stick. your hands brush, electricity traveling down your veins before you pull away.

"you never learned at another bar?" he asks, producing a blue cube from nowhere and rubbing it against the tip of his stick. it's practically obscene, that thought, and you're temporarily mesmerized by how his hand veins flex as he move the cube back and forth. he finishes with his, and instead of taking your own stick out of your hands, he simply steps forward and into your space, cube in hand. you don't move as you watch his biceps contract with effort, a few inches from your face. only when he steps back do you remember the question he asked.

"i'm usually dancing on tables, not playing pool, old man." you supply, memories of screaming favorite songs with friends coming to mind. he grunts a chuckle, gathering the stray balls on the table with a triangle-looking thing until they're all together in the center of the table before setting it aside. "c'mere, brat." he commands. your body follows his order instantly, delivering you into his place at the end of the table until you're almost toe-to-toe. "hit the white one into the others." you frown at his lack of instruction, the stick in your hand feeling as unhelpful as a hammer in an ER. deciding to improvise, you place it on the table and try to recreate the hand placement you've seen in the movies. clearly, you don't do it well as abbot sighs, the air escaping his mouth and settling on your exposed skin. gooseflesh ripples across the back of your neck and you shiver at the feeling.

all of a sudden, there's pure heat behind you. capable fingers rearrange your own around the thin part of the stick, not a single excuse or ask for permission following. his hands are dusted with coarse hair, fine and not yet silver. each movement is another shock down your spine, trying to restrict your breathing so you don't bump into the little bit of space between your back and his front. your hold now resembles more of that on a scalpel than a fist, allowing you to push the stick forward and back to adjust it. "better?" he asks, words right next to your ear. you nod, shaken at his proximity and his own lack of reaction to it.

"this is your easiest shot of the game. take it."

you ignore any suspicions of a double entendre and push the stick until it clinks against the white ball. that one rolls forward, a bit slowly, until it knocks the other colors around. some don't escape the middle, and you sigh at the underestimation of force you had. one of the balls, a solid-colored purple one, rolls into the nearest corner of the table and dips down from sight. you squeal in success, sure that means something good. when you turn, you forget the stick in your hand, almost whacking him in the face.

"stand down, soldier. game's barely started." he says in a brusque tone, softening it with a half-cocked smile. you now realize how close your bodies are, one heaving breath enough to touch your chest to his own. you don't take it, but you don't step away either. "a ball went in! that's something good, right?" you ask, eager for more praise. his eyes flick to the ceiling, a deep inhale traveling into his lungs, before finally meeting yours. "yeah, sweetheart. good job."

sweetheart.

it nuzzles into the corners of your heart, settling on the floor and curling into itself. sweetheart. he doesn't comment on the slip of tongue, if it was one, simply watching and waiting with that iron stare of his. sweetheart. like melted chocolate and sugar spun whisps and fresh fruit, juicy on your tongue.

"teach me more?"

he teaches you about stripes versus solids with a hand hovering at your back. he points out angles and compares them to procedures with his knuckles brushing your own. he lets you cheer when you've hit the wrong ball in and protest when he hits three in one go. with each quip, you stand closer to him and try not to sink into the cedar scent of his cologne. you're a little more sober now, the alcohol haze receding, and you can track the firm but patient tone he uses to explain distance and force.

it's your last ball, a solid blue one that stares at you resolutely. jack already won, ages ago, but he ordered you to practice with all the ones you had left. you weren't going to leave his orbit if he didn't want you to, practically forgetting about your coworkers on the opposite end of the bar. you bend over the table, and despite you being secure with your stance, jack crowds your back, hands hovering over your wrists. "show me what you've got." he urges. the need to please him is a living thing under your skin as you put your every effort into the hitting the ball. your stick wobbles a bit but makes contact with the white ball, which knocks the blue one into the waiting net. job finished.

"i won!" you abandon the stick in favor of the doctor behind you, forcing him into a hug as you cheer. he mutters that you technically did not win, by any means, but wraps his hands around your waist anyway as yours encircle his neck. you've never felt so much of him at once; the corded muscles of his neck and his back coalescing into pure strength beneath you. you pull back, barely an inch, and for a second, he doesn't let you move. then he does, like you've imagined it, hands returning to his sides.

"jack..."

you trail off, unsure of how to address this thing between you. he has to have felt it, all this electricity with nowhere to go. jack abbot is fearless, so you've thought, until he takes a half step back. "i'm your attending." he reasons, though you've made no argument. you stay leaning against the pool table, needing him to be the one to come to you. "you're an attending, not mine. different shifts too." he shakes his head at the truth coming out of your mouth. "old man, remember?" he adds. you scoff at that, crossing your arms against your chest. the action pushes up your cleavage, and when his eyes dip for a second, you know you haven't lost him. "not that old. ten years apart, if you round." you won't plead. you won't debase yourself to earn his attentions, no matter how good his praise feels.

"i'm divorced, sweetheart. not exactly the best track record with relationships." he admits, a fact you'd already surmised by the faded tan on his left hand. "jumping to marriage already, jack?" your joke has the opposite of its intended effect as he stiffens at your words. "i'm too old to be casual." he reasons. "and i'm old enough to know what i want, but i won't beg, jack." you state, refusing to plead. it won't work if he doesn't want this as much as you, isn't willing to put aside skeletons in closets and just-

jack abbot takes a step forward and kisses you.

his hand cradles your skull, sinking into your hair and holding you in place. his other hand drops to your waist, tugging you further into his grip until you're not quite sure where you end and he begins. it's gentle but possessive as your breaths combine -- feels like you've done this before, the comfort of coming home safe and sound. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, tugging him further into you. finally, you can sink your fingers into his salt and pepper curls, their softness surprising you.

"there's a bathroom that locks back here." you surprise yourself by suggesting, a sudden need to make real all this yearning. in another life, your first time with him would be on a king mattress surrounded by candles and rose petals, but time is your enemy as a doctor. you know you've picked correctly when he doesn't second guess your suggestion, simply kissing your jaw before pulling you into the hallway off his right. tactical skills lead him into the all-gender bathroom, his hand wrapped in yours as he tugs you after in him. the lock clicks into place.

"c'mere." there's a surprisingly clean granite countertop he lifts you onto with quiet strength. deft fingers pull down the neckline of your shirt and the cup of your bra until his lips wrap around your nipple and suck. "fuck, jack." you whine as he rolls your other nipple between his fingers, the suddenness of it sending sparks to your core. you dip your hands back into his curls, nails scraping against his skull. you can't control how your hips buck into the air, need bubbling up and out of your skin. you've been wet this whole time, since he came up to you in the booth if you're being honest. you need him now.

"jack," you pull him off you, his lips red from lavishing your breasts. "another time. i need you." he swears at your urgency, unbuttoning your jeans and shoving them down to your ankles. your underwear is a lacy scrap of pink you picked out, hoping, and he whistles appreciatively. "this for me?" his thumb pets the wet spot on the front, trailing down as he presses down the length of your seam. he slips under the fabric, thumb finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles. "yes, yes, for you." you moan as he experiments, finding a pace you like. there's spit on your tits and your pussy is seeping over his fingers, belaying your desperation. despite that, there's an ache, an emptiness deep inside.

"please, jack." you ask. he hums, eyes locked on how your clit hardens under his thumb. "please, what?" he replies, calm and collected. "need your fingers." you plead. there's enough emotion in your voice to make him exhale a harsh breath before pulling his thumb away and hooking it around your underwear before pulling down. you open your knees wide, letting him get a look of your glistening pussy, needy for him. jack pushes in one thick finger, watching with rapt attention as one knuckle goes in, then two. his thumb finds your clit again and you're struck with how naked you feel in front of his clothed body.

one finger becomes two, crooking this way and that as he listens for your little sighs. you don't want to come like this, want to come on his cock even if the stretch hurts. you tug his belt loop until he steps forward between the cradle of your legs. that building crash of an impending orgasm is settling in your stomach and you lay a hand on his wrist, stopping him instantly. "shit, something hurt?" you shake your head, instead reaching for the top button of his cargos. "want your cock." you whisper, a little shameful of your desperation. he groans, helping you with the button and zipper until his pants drop, revealing black boxers. you run your palm against his hardness, smiling when he exhales loudly.

"take it out, baby." he orders, another petname rolling off his tongue. you follow his instructions, dipping your hand in and pulling out his cock. it's heavy in your hands, beads of white precum gathering at the tip. you guide him forward into your waiting pussy, stopping when he squeezes his hand on your knee. "i don't have a condom." he sighs. your heart flutters in your chest. "i'm clean and on birth control." you whisper. "i'm clean too." he grunts. this time it's him leaning forward until his tip taps against your clit before moving down to push against your weeping hole. you whine at the stretch as he pushes in, regretting the lack of prep you advocated for. his forehead lands against yours, his breaths coming out in pants. "so fucking tight." he mutters, straining as he controls his pace. you pant and attempt to relax, letting him slip further and further in until he's at the hilt.

"i'm close, jack." you admit, clit still fluttering from its earlier attention. "i am too." he kisses the side of your cheek before gathering you in his arms, tipping you back until your head hits the mirror. the angle allows for a wider stretch as he pulls out and pushes in again, the intrusion getting easier to take. jack experiments with small thrusts until your breathing evens out. once it does, his hips snap in controlled movements as he fucks you. that thumb rubs your clit again as praise drips from his lips, each sentence sending you closer and closer to orgasm.

such a good girl.

so good at taking it, baby.

just a little more, you can do it.

"feels like heaven, sweetheart." he growls, sucking at the skin of your neck. that's what sending you over the edge, crying into his arms with the satisfaction of praise. you're floating and still moving as he fucks you through it, cumming only when you're an inch from overstimulation. warmth fills your tummy and you look down to see cum slip out of your pussy, spilling over his cock. he slips out of you with a grunt, shushing your whines at the sudden emptiness. fingers fill you instantly, pushing cum back in until it won't stay anymore. he cleans you up with paper towels, kissing the insides of your thighs reverently to heal the sting. jack drags your panties up your legs, satisfied when you jump off the counter onto wobbly legs with his cum in your underwear. he tucks his cock back into his boxers and drags your jeans up your legs, zipping and buttoning them until you're covered back up. strong hands squeeze your jaw until your mouth opens for a wet kiss, practically debauched after what you've done.

"c'mon, sweetheart. still got two drink tickets left."

-

um

i can't stop thinking about him. pls enjoy.

[reidrum]

two millimeters | s.r

a/n: this was literally born bc i saw reid lying on the couch in the jet at the end of demons and thought ‘i would literally sit against that wall to watch over him on the way back’ so i wrote it

summary: spencer gets hurt and you’re not leaving his side

cw: season 9 finale spoilers for angels & demons, cm violence, hurt/comfort, unestablished relationship

wc: 0.6k

___________________________________________

two millimeters to the right, and it would’ve hit his carotid.

the sentence replays in your head like a cursed mantra, rendering your other senses useless. you couldn’t hear the doctor say you could see him now, or feel penny tug your arm towards the room. and you certainly couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw spencer reid in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines and iv drips, with a big fucking gauze dressage on the side of his neck.

you knew your line of work was dangerous, being a federal agent who hunts down serial killers should be enough to prove that. but it never surprised you seeing the panic that overtook all of you when one of your own was hurt.

the pure terror you felt in this moment though, was something without parallel.

two millimeters. two millimeters. two millimeters.

you’re not even sure how it happened. they were on the way to tell the preacher he was innocent, and instead he opens fire on federal agents? it was a cruel twist of fate, spencer doing what he could to protect his people and pushing blake out of the way but getting hit himself. it wasn’t anyone’s fault either, the preacher had military grade machine guns, and spencer would have done what he did for anyone. you made sure to tell blake that.

but your spencer was hurt. and all you wanted to do was take away his pain somehow, and toss it in a river to never be seen again.

two millimeters. two millimeters. two millimeters.

“hey,” you hear a voice pull you out of your head. looking up you’re met with tired soft brown eyes lying down on the jet’s couch, “i’m okay, honey. please go sit on a chair.”

if spencer had all his strength he would lecture you on the dangers of not being properly restrained on an aircraft and the statistics of plane related injuries. but that was the problem, he didn’t have all his strength. and you were not going to let him out of your sight.

which is why you are sitting on the floor of the jet, perched in front of the couch where spencer laid, resting your head on the cushion his head was on, body leaning against couch’s frame. and you planned to stay right there until you landed back in quantico.

“looks like this flight is overbooked,” your section unit chief teased upon seeing you on the ground, “hopefully the brass sees our good work and gives us a bigger jet next year.”

morgan, hotch, even jj offered you their seats to at least get some rest, something you hadn’t had in days.

“i’m fine right here.” you spoke softly.

jj and penny looked at you in concern, but knew you wouldn’t be swayed to move anyway. your stubbornness always acted as a curse and a blessing.

spencer moved his hand to graze your cheek gently, “the doctors fixed me up really good, i promise i’m okay.”

you move your hand to rest on top of his, slowly rubbing your thumb into the curve of his palm, “and i promise i’m okay right here. i’m not moving.”

two millimeters. two millimeters. two millimeters.

two millimeters would haunt you for many years to come, but maybe right now you could use it to measure how much closer you can get to spencer till there’s only two millimeters between you.

spencer knew this was a war he was not winning, and let his hand intertwine with yours. if you weren’t so close to him you might’ve missed the faintest “thank you” escape from his lips. the jet takes off and the two of you are lulled to sleep almost immediately. the rest of the team unspokenly watched over you both, making sure you weren’t rattling around or spencer rolling around too much. and penny couldn’t help but take a few pics to show you later.

[the-void-via]

TW: GUNS, BLOOD, GENERAL VIOLENCE.

Here you go, @havanillas ! Part one of a Rota Fortunea fic :3

“Aventurine!”

Ratio’s voice, crisp and clear, cut through the air as Aventurine’s sensors registered the cold metal of a gun against his head. His eyes widened, turning his head to look at his attacker-

Wait. No, he was on the ground now. What happened?

His systems ran overtime, trying to diagnose the problem-

Ah. His internal mechanisms had been damaged. A gunshot ‘wound’.

He glanced over his sensors, he was losing power, and fast. He looked up, away from the screens in his eyes, and saw a young man looming over what looked to be a corpse–

Wait, no, they were still breathing. A gunshot wound, blood pooling from his shoulder.

Wait. The person with the gun. That was…Ratio, wasn’t it?

“I should kill you,” He hissed, pain in his voice. “I should kill you for what you’ve done.”

The other young man–Sunday, his systems told him–only laughed, holding his wounded shoulder. “You and I both know what that would do. What you would start.”

Ratio raised the gun to Sunday’s head, his hands shaking. He said nothing in response to his taunt, causing him to laugh harder. He was almost hysterical.

“Do you really think you can save him, Doctor? Do you really think he’s worth the effort to save?”

Who were they talking about?

“He’s an android, a husk of spare parts. Meant to be sold, be used-”

Ratio fired.

The gunshot rang out through the underground area, blood splatter on the wall Sunday had been leaning on. His body flopped over, landing with a dull thud.

The gun landed on the floor with a clatter, and Ratio turned on his heel to face Aventurine. His eyes widened, moving over to sit him up and cradle his face in his hands.

“Aventurine! Can you hear me?”

“Y-Yeah,” Aventurine’s voice crackled with static. “I hear you, Doc.”

Ratio sighed heavily, “Thank Aeons. You- he-”

“He shot me, didn’t he?” Aventurine’s voice crackled. “Major damage to my processors…”

Ratio nodded, “Yes. Please, save your energy. I can fix you, I just need to get back to my lab-”

“My sleep mode button,” Aventurine weakly reached up and pulled down part of his cloak, motioning to the serial number imprinted on his neck. “Somewhere over here…”

He trailed off, and Ratio could see his eyes starting to dull. His heart leapt into his throat, scrambling to fiddle around and find the button.

“Ratio,” Aventurine began, voice weak. “If we make it…what will we do?”

“I- I don’t know,” Ratio grumbled, eventually finding the button on his neck. He smiled- smiled for the first time since their little adventure had started. “I found it. I’m going to press it. Aventurine- I promise I will find a way to fix you. I don’t know how long it will take, but-”

“I’m losing power fast, Doc,” Aventurine interrupted, his eyes growing more and more dull. “I know what you’re trying to say. I love you, too.”

Ratio jumped almost, flinching back for a second as his face lit up with bright red. He sighed a little and moved back into position, fingers finding the button once more.

“I love you, damned gambler.”

“Love you, too…Ratio…”

Ratio deftly pressed the button, watching as Aventurine’s eyes lost their color entirely, his face reverting to a neutral look, lips pressed into a thin line and eyes staring far away. He bit back a sob, standing and carefully picking up the sleeping android.

Oil stained his hands as he cradled his head, adjusting his hold on Aventurine a few times before finding the best way was to hold him bridal style. He looked at his face, already missing his colorful gaze and sharp tongue.

He didn’t have time to waste, though. For one thing, the androids above must have heard the gunshot, and he needed to hook Aventurine to a power source before it was too late.

Covering his face with his cloak, Ratio set off.

Miss Herta and Ruan Mei could help. He was sure of it.

Tags: @serendipminie @blak-ie @blackcat2907 @drowning-in-cabbages @lumin-arii

[stark-ironman]

Dropping in to say your Hugh fics are everything to me. I was wondering if you could maybe do one where he takes care of reader when shes on her period Smut+fluff 😭😭😭

Period

A/N: perfect timing for this ask because I'm currently dealing with this pain in the ass of a period.

Warnings: period pains, mentions of pain pills (whatever you use for period pains), period sex, aftercare in the end .

You wake up with an intense pain shooting through your legs and stomach, groaning loudly as you curl up into a ball, feeling Hugh stir beside you. "Love, are you okay?" He asks pulling you close to him. You shake your head no and he immediately notice your period has started. "Let me run you a bath right quick, okay?" He kisses your forehead and runs to the bathroom to get the bath ready.

Your pain intensifies and you silently start crying, burying your head in the mattress and Hugh comes back out, feeling his heart break into a million of pieces seeing you in pain. "C'mon love, the bath should help you a little." He picks you up and carries you to the bathroom, setting you down to help you undress before placing you in the tub.

He hands you two pain pills and some water, running his hand through your hair as you take it. "I'm going to go change the sheets but I'll be right back. Call me if you need anything." Hugh kisses your head and stands up, running to change the sheets. You lay in the tub with your head against the side, listening to him shuffle around in the bedroom.

He walks back in with some clothes, setting them down before crouching back down next to you. "How do you feel?" He asks. "Like shit. It hurts so bad." You whimper, grabbing a hold of his hand. "Is there anything I can do to help you feel better? " His hand slides in the water, rubbing your stomach. "Help me up, please?" You pout, holding your arms up causing him to chuckle.

Hugh picks you up and wraps a towel around you, sitting you on the toilet. "Let's get you dressed and I'll cook some breakfast." He says grabbing the clothes and helping you get dressed, making you notice he grabbed you a pair of his sweatpants and hoodie, leading you back to the bedroom.

Once in the bed, you kiss him softly and pull him on top of you as you deepen the kiss. He catches himself to make sure he doesn't land on your stomach, pulling away slowly. "Love, you're hurting and I don't want to cause you anymore pain." He whispers against your lips. "It will make me feel better, I promise. Look it up if you don't believe me." You beg, looking up at him and seeing his eyes soften.

"Are you sure?" You nod, "Okay, darling. Anything for you." He says kissing you again, slotting himself in between your thighs. His mouth trails across your jaw and down to your neck, slowly lifting your hoodie up to your chest.

"You're so beautiful, darling." Hugh breaths out as he stares down at you, taking his own shirt off. "Let me go get a towel." He kisses you again and runs to the bathroom, returning with a smile as he helps you out of your pants and panties, setting the towel underneath you then discards his own clothes.

"Are you sure about this?" He asks again, worry filled in his eyes. "I'm positive, baby. Please." You tell him as you grab his face. Hugh nods and slides into you, both of you moaning softly as your walls enclose around him. He starts moving slowly and you wrap your legs around his waist, kissing him deeply.

"Hugh, hon, I'm not going to break. Please fuck me." You moan against his lips, sliding your tongue across his bottom lip as a growl rumbles from deep inside him. He moves your legs up to his shoulders, pounding into you at a brutal pace. Your hands grab ahold of his arms as your back arches, your period causing you to be more sensitive than normal, and you feel your orgasm getting close.

"H-Hugh.. I'm fixing to..." He nods and you dig your nails into him as your release hits, his thumb moving to your clit and rubbing in hopes for another one. "C'mon, darling. One more for me." He coaxs, gripping your breast with his other and he flicks your nipple.

Before you can respond, another orgasm rapidly hits and his hips move slow but go deep, your walls clench tightly around him as he releases inside of you. Hugh leans down and kisses you softly, pulling out causing you to whimper at the loss as he lays beside you, holding you close.

You both lay there, the smell of sex and blood quickly filling the air as Hugh takes a deep breath. "Are you feeling okay?" He asks, his heart racing while he holds you. "I'm perfect. Thank you." You say kissing his chest. "Anything for you, darling."

He stands up and walks out of the room, leaving you there with his hoodie still on but bare down below on a towel and he comes back with some fruit, water, and a wet rag. Hugh makes sure to take his time to clean you, helping put your underwear and his pants back on before tossing the towel in the bathroom and throwing a pair of sweatpants on, as well.

He lays beside you and places the bowl of fruit in between you two. "Here, darling. Eat something so you don't get sick." You smile as he feeds you a strawberry then hands you the remote to the TV.

You both sit there enjoying each other's company and you can't help but stare at him lovingly knowing he will do anything he can for you.

[wachinyeya]

I'm one of the anons from the other day I just want to say thank you. I'm still terrified but you words did help. Currently in my country we have been experiencing effects over the last few years that were expected in 2050. In just the last few months (when it is winter) we've had a "once in a lifetime" storm and we are now on the second lot of wildfire warnings already this year. I'm only in high school and I just don't see a livable future and that is terrifying. There are too many problems to fix in the world and our government would rather fund more oil and gas drilling than save my future

It is okay to be afraid. But, remember that we cannot predict the future, even if we try. We can only work in the present for a better one. I was going to ask which country you're in but tbh I feel like it could apply to countries all over the globe. We are at the tipping point, the place scientists have been talking about. What we're experiencing is the results of their predictions. Now we are being forced to act. There is no more hiding, no more pretending (even if some of them want to).

There are many many problems but there are just as many solutions. And many people dedicated to applying those solutions. I believe we all have a role to play in this. Even if it's something 'small' like advocating for a local species or picking up litter--all things are connected.

You are not alone. And you are not responsible for all these problems. These problems have been building up for hundreds of years and it will likely take us that same time frame to 'fix' it--but we're working on, we're deep in the trying to fix it stage. It is not your responsibility to fix these problems but you do have a responsibility to keep going even if you struggle to imagine a future--I promise there WILL BE ONE. There was once a time when the the divine right of kings was just how it was and people living in it likely struggled to imagine a day when things would be different. But, they are.

You may have a lot of shitty people in your government but there are also good ones. Pay attention to your local government, your local officials because they are the ones who you have the most influence over.

I want to give you this video to watch that someone recommended if you haven't already:

There is also a really awesome masterlist put together by @reasonsforhope about why we're going to beat climate change.

I try to remember that there have been MANY MANY times on this planet where life struggled, where humans have struggled, but we've survived. There was a point in time where my people, indigenous people, lived through the apocalypse--millions of us died, torn from their families, we were put into concentration camps, the land was stolen and torn into pieces, destroyed for farming and building and mining. If you learn usa environmental history, the dust bowl and other disasters came from this. But, we're still here. And the land is still here. it is damaged and so are we. But, we are still here. Nature heals and adapts in incredible ways. We just have to help.

I'm not saying it will be easy. As I said, it will likely get worse before it gets better but it is going to get better. In the mean time, we are going to have to adapt, we have to be resilient.

Use your voice, use your hands, and do what you can where you are right now. Action is a good way to fight despair. Write letters to your government, call them, speak with your family and friends, go to protests, clean up trash around your home, learn the birds and insects and plants in your local area....aid in the fire recovery if you can and learn how they are trying to prevent it from happening in the future.

We're all in this together, friend. It won't be an easy struggle but it is so, so worth it. You must keep going. There is no other choice for us. And we need you. It's okay to be afraid but don't let it control you.

Again if you haven't already it might be a good idea to speak with someone (an adult in your life) you trust, but your doctor or a therapist might help as well (I've seen both and they have helped me a lot).

[sheaabuttaababyy]

Facetime Sex - RR

Roman x Deja

Summary: Not seeing her fiancé in 2 weeks Deja is missing Joe and has been sexually frustrated after making a promise that they would both wait for each other until he’s back.

Warning: Just straight smut, Kinda short.

You can read more of my works here :)

The sounds of moans and slurping filled the bedroom as Deja laid on her and her Fiancés bed.

Her eyes glued to her phone as her thighs tightly pressed together, to relieve the ache that was between them, watching the nasty video that was playing on it.

Opening her legs, Deja brought her right hand down, rubbing herself through her striped panties. Her breath hitched, already finding herself wet and sensitive. It’s been too long since she’s done anything.

Her eyes went back to her phone, her body getting more turned on. She promised him she wouldn’t do anything, but she should couldn’t take it anymore.

She slipped her hand into her underwear, not even bothering to take them off. Letting out a moan as her fingers made contact with her clit.

She rubbed it, before entering a finger in, slipping in another one. "Shit" she breathed out thrusting her fingers slowly in her wet, gushy pussy. Her phone dropped out her hand landing on the bed as the video continued to play.

Her eyes shut, imagining it was Joe’s hands that were doing that to her. Eating her pussy just like, how he was doing in the video she was watching. Feeling herself coming close, she looked at her phone again, seeing how He was eating her pussy. How his face was covered in her juices at he licked and sucked on her clit.

"Mhmm fuck" her fingeres thrusted faster as her left hand came down to rub her clit. She squeezed her eyes shut, her tummy tightening.

The sound of ringing was heard, making her eyes snap open. "Are you serious" she groaned tossing her head back. Taking her hand out her panties, she licked her fingers clean, before grabbing her phone to see who’s calling.

"Fuck" seeing that it was Joe, panic started to take over her body. She quickly tried fixing her hair, before answering his FaceTime.

"Hey baby" his face popped up, once it connected. "Hii" deja spoke, sounding slightly out of breath. Joe squinted his eyes, taking in her appearance. Her curly hair was slightly wild and her face looked flushed and slightly sweaty.

"Why you out of breath?" Deja was caught off guard by the question. "Huh? Oh, I was doing a quick workout" Deja cussed herself out in her head. He definitely wasn’t gonna fall for that.

Joe leaned up a bit, now sitting up with his shirtless body against the bed headboard in the hotel room. "Mhm. Tell me the truth."

"Joe I just told yo-"

"Deja. You know what. Show me your panties"

She let out a laugh, thinking he was joking, but seeing his serious expression, her smile faded. "Are you deadass? I thought we made a deal no doing stuff, until we see each other."

"Yeah, we did. But something tells me you broke that promise."

"Jo-"

"I didn’t ask for all that. I told you to Show. Me." Letting out a shaky breath, Deja panned the camera down, between her legs. Joe rubbed a hand down his face, rubbing his beard, a smirk planted on his beautiful face. Deja’s panties were fully drenched, you could see it clear as day. Snug against her pussylips, showing the print.

"You so fucking bratty, you couldn’t wait?" Deja shook her head "no" with a slight pout on her face. "No daddy. I was watching a video of us and it got my pussy so wet." She moved her panties to the side, rubbing in between her legs, making sure Joe had a good view of how she was dripping for him.

"Fuck, Deja" his dick jerked in his boxers. He brought his hand down squeezing himself, through them. "Did you cum earlier?"

"No" grabbing a pillow she put it in front of her, Propping her phone against it. She swiftly took her panties off spreading her legs wide.

Joe drooled watching how her wet vagina glistened as she slowly played with herself. "I know I’m not supposed to touch myself, but daddy I was missing you so much."

"Yeah? Missing me so much that you tried getting off to one of our videos. Which one were you watching? The one where I fucked you doggystyle in the car? Or When you sucked my dick at my sisters baby shower in the bathroom, cumming all over that pretty face?

Deja moaned at his dirty words, getting flashbacks of all those events. She saw his camera shaking, his right arm moving up and down. "The one where you were eating my pussy on the balcony" she spoke through a whimper. "Please let me see your dick, I wanna see you cum" she lifted her shirt up exposing her big tits, pinching her nipples with her free hand.

He backed the camera a bit giving her the view of him stroking his big, girthy, dick. "Fuck i remember, I made you cum twice with my mouth under 6 minutes, had that pretty wet pussy squirt all over my face" he bit his lip, remembering, how she tasted on his tongue.

"Fuck daddy, I want your dick in my mouth” she licked her lips at the slight pre cum that was oozing from his tip. "Daddy wish he could come all over those lips right now, and that pussy. Look how she’s talking to me, she misses me." A smug look was on his face, hearing the sounds coming from her pussy.

"Mhmm yess!" Deja shouted feeling her orgasm approaching, working her fingers in herself faster. "You gonna cum for me beautiful?" Deja sunk her teeth in her bottom lip nodding her head. "Come with me big daddy"

Joe groaned at the name, his body going stiff as he felt his nut coming. "I’m right with you baby. Cum" on command her eyes rolled back, feeling her orgasm taking over her.

"Holy shit" Joe said, watching her juices hit the front camera and all over their bed. That did it for him, his big load shooting out, covering all over his hand and lap.

Both of their panting and heavy breathing was only heard, until Joe let out a chuckle. "I’m not gonna lie, that was definitely worth it." Deja giggled, still recovering from her delicious orgasm. "Definitely was"

"The way you squirted, all over was so sexy" his voice got deeper at the last word making Deja furrow her eyebrow. "Which I could catch it all in my mouth, what a waste." She saw him grab, his half soft dick, stroking it again."

Deja whined, She doesn’t think her body can do another one. She’s too tired. "Joe I can’t go again."

He laughed, spitting on his tip. "You can, and you will. Now open your legs back up and play with my pussy.

And Deja did exactly what he said.

🏷: @charmed-dreamssss @usoinked @mselenalovebug @theusotwinzcom @bloodlineslut @trippinsorrows @catxo @whowrotethenote @uceyliyahh @adoreesun @christinabae @mjonthetrack

[written-in-flowers]

The Places Between Us: The Undead Soldier: (OT8 x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Song Mingi x Fem!Reader | Side pairings: Hongjoong x Fem!Reader, Ateez x Reader.

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff | AU: fantasy!au,

Word Count: 6k

Summary: Carted away by Mingi like a prized lion, YN is taken through the dangerous woodlands of the North. Through lycan infested lands, General Mingi is generous. Very generous.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Overall Tags: dub-con, mind control, enslavement, kidnapping, forced breeding, monster fucking, sex work, mentions/implications of abuse, mentions/implications of SA, stockholm syndrome, public sex, exhibitionism, humiliation, degradation, breeding kink, bigdick!Seonghwa, bigdick!Yunho, DoubleDick!Yunh, face fucking, throat fucking, undead sex, sex w/ undead, belly bulge, anal sex, anal fingering, vaginal sex, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, squirting/vaginal ejaculation, slight size kink (height wise), overstimulation, facials, cum swallowing, choking, dom!ateez, sub!reader, tit fucking, sex toys, bondage, multiple partners, threesome, orc!jongho, naga!seonghwa, demon!hongjoong, dragon!yunho, undead!mingi, goblin!yeosang, lycan!san, lycan!wooyoung.

Taglist: @binniesbabe @stay-tiny-things @oiminho @babymbbatinygirl @sopematesxx @pirana10 @juicyjaxxy @corgilover20 @kinkymaminicole @londonbridges01 @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 (if you want to be tagged for future chapters, let me know in the replies)

Part 2: The Dragon Prince < | > Part 4: The Lycan Brothers

****

You woke up in your bedroom again. The smell of chamomile came faintly off the sheets and pillows, and you knew who was beside you. 

“Morning, love,” he rolled onto his side, eyes still closed as he pulled you close. 

“Morning.”

The both of you laid naked, entangled in one another like snakes. His lips, plush and warm, pressed to your cheek, then made their way to your lips. The whole thing might have been a terrible dream, and this was reality. You snuggled into Hongjoong further, nuzzling him and pecking his lips. 

“Come back to me,” you heard yourself whisper. “Please, come find me.”

“I will,” he pushed black strands from his face, then kissed you. “I promise.” 

“I don't know how much of this I can take.”

“You're tough. You'll make it.”

“This is different. This thing…I feel like it's stripping away everything I am. I feel nothing but tired and sore afterwards. It takes only a small suggestion before I'm dying for it. I don’t know if I will….What if you don't come in time or it somehow progresses and I lose it completely?”

“That isn't going to happen,” he assured you. “I am coming for you, YN. I will never leave you to suffer like this…” he cupped your cheek and kissed you. “Things haven't gone how we planned, but we adapt. We work with it. Please, don't worry. I have a way or two of fixing the worst parts of the curse. You might even start welcoming it.”

“I doubt that.”

“Well, you never know. You seem to really enjoy Mingi and his sentient hands.”

You turned away shyly. Yes, the Undead general might have grown on you since you started your journey. The cage, you learned, was more to keep his men out than to keep you in. He didn't force himself upon you, only doing it when you asked him to help relieve your symptoms. He did the bare minimum, but it was still better than the last two. 

“We'll be together soon. I promise.”

The soft circling sensation gently roused you from sleep. You tried finding the exact source of the reaction, but your hazy brain couldn’t find it. A faint chill brushed over exposed parts, which made the warmth more noticeable. You rolled over onto your side in the bed of hay, but the hardness remained latched to you. Long digits slid across your sex, making circular motions over the bare lips. Another mass stayed on your exposed breast, rubbing its palm against your hard nipple. The two sides combined to stoke the mark in your back. 

“Did you not get enough last night?” you giggled sleepily, grinding into the hand between your legs. 

The lower hand answered by rapidly rubbing your clit with its thumb. You muffled your moans with your tunic, which had come undone while you slept. Your excitement boiled when the one on your chest scurried to your ass, gripping the cheek before you pulled one side to let it further in. It circled the tight ring in time with its partner, which started prodding a finger in by the second knuckle. Pleasure burns your entire body, bringing on a slight heat even in the chilly atmosphere outside the cage. You couldn't stop yourself from grinding into them both. You became nearly dizzy from their teasing. 

“Ooh, just like that,” you breathed when a finger went into your ass, filling both holes. “Yes, both ends…good boys…keep going like-ah, yes, please, one more…”

Two fingers met each other inside you, and you already felt yourself shaking. You barely registered the cage door creaking open or the footsteps coming your way. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Mingi kneeling behind you….

Minus his head…

“Managed to get away too, hm?” you giggled breathily. 

One of the hands instantly grabbed his throbbing cock to tap on your ass. Lacking the mortality of normal men, Mingi did not feel warm at all. Every part of him shocked your hot skin whenever he touched you. It added a new feeling that made you wriggle in his grasp. It became more noticeable when the hand on your cunt brought his tip to your entrance. The left hand having nowhere to go crawled up to your face and you accepted two fingers into your mouth. Your moans went around the lukewarm digits as Mingi slowly pushed his cock inside. Being full in all three entrances was like a dream. You pathetically mewled and rocked in all ways to get more pleasure out of it. You could honestly get used to this. 

“Ugh, there you are!” Mingi’s voice came from somewhere below. “I've been looking for you everywhere.” 

Pink tentacles helped Mingi slither into the cage. He'd told you when he drowned at sea, an octopus made its home in his skull. It was the only thing keeping his head attached to his body. He hid his smirk when he saw what the rest of him was up to. 

“A nice way to wake up, huh?” He smirked when you nodded, an answer muffled by his fingers. “I had trouble getting away from a meeting,” he came closer, “But I couldn't stop thinking about last night.” One tentacle reached up to wipe hair from your face, “You did so well, and didn't waste a single drop. I thought you'd tire after the third round, but you surprised me. I've only ever seen an Undead go that long.” 

The tentacle left your hair for your chest, sliding between body and floor to encompass your breasts. The slimy, cold tendril lightly squeezed them while the suction cups latched to your skin. You took full advantage of the appendages filling and caressing you by haphazardly pushing into them. The fingers in your ass stayed fully to the last knuckle, only pushing and pulling once in a while as his cock pounded your wet sex. Another tentacle reached down and you cried out when it started mercilessly flicking your clit. 

“Lay on your back,” Mingi ordered, “And keep those legs wide open.”

His hands moved away to let you roll onto your back. Your hips moved around as the emptiness became more pronounced. You would've reached down to your clit if Mingi didn't get there first. Tentacles wrapping around your thighs, he pressed his face right to your center and started rolling his tongue around it. Unable to shake him off, you could only buck around as he slurped and sucked your clit relentlessly upside down. You breathed deeply when his body pushed his dick back inside; you put his hands on your chest, which they delightfully started grabbing and teasing. The overwhelming pleasure turns your mind blank. You could only comprehend the sensations building in you: Mingi’s cold tongue on your clit sent sparks to the core where his hard tip pushed until you saw stars. The thumbs brushing over your nipples was like throwing kindling into a blazing fire. You never wanted it to end. It was the most enjoyable thing you'd ever felt and you immediately understood why Yunho’s wives loved entertaining him. 

Mingi’s hunger grew when your walls tightened around him. He flicked his tongue on your pussy sideways as he picked up the pace. Unable to move away, you were forced to come. Your moans filled the cage, your orgasm strong and causing your body to tremble on the wooden floor. You chased down your climax, savouring the sweet bliss his touches brought. As it came down, Mingi only lifted your legs further up and charged deeper. You grabbed his broad shoulders, fingers digging into the cloth sleeves of his shirt and to his stiff skin, needing to hold onto him. 

“Cum in me,” you panted, trying to push up into him but not by much. “Fill me with your cum, please. Please, please?”

“Oh, you want my cum, huh?” Mingi said, his voice causing a slight vibration on your clit. 

“Yes, yes, please!”

“Cum for me again, and I'll give you every drop.”

His hands snapped back to his empty wrists in soft clicks: his head left your sex and slid back up his body to the empty neck hole. Fully put together, Mingi turned you around before bringing you back onto him. Hands holding fistfuls of hard straw, knuckles pressing into the floor, you used it to steady yourself as you began riding him. Mingi’s deep, low groans mingled with yours each time you grinded and whirled your hips with him inside you. You swore his cock, thick and long, snaked around in time with you and twitched against your g-spot. Head tilting back, you thought you might be on fire. The strain on your muscles burned and ached, but the mark on your back kept you going. A driving force of desperate need drove you to lifting and lowering your hips despite the struggle. Nothing ever felt this good. Nothing ever made you feel as complete as having something buried in you. How could you want to get rid of this feeling when it brought so much joy and pleasure? 

“The best view I’ve ever had,” Mingi groaned, landing a few swats to your ass cheeks. “You look so good just like this. You’re gonna stay like this as long as I want.” 

“Ye-yes,” you huffed, whimpering when he kept smacking your backside. “Can I ride it like this all day? Don’t le-leave. Just stay here and let me have-have your dick.”

“I like the sound of that.” 

When he pulled them apart, you hoped he’d slide a digit or two inside, but he didn’t. He only rolled, kneaded and spanked them. It wasn’t until you felt something shift to your left that you turned your head. On the edge of the cage sat your crow. You knew it was yours by how strange it acted. The shaking of the cage did not startle or cause it to fly off. It remained firmly planted as its black eyes looked at you. The sneaking suspicion this was not a regular crow crossed your mind, but you couldn’t focus on it for too long. Mingi’s head slammed right into your center at a mind-numbing feeling, and you started shaking again. You leaned forward when his hands lifted and spread your cheeks, giving him a good view of his dick sliding in and out of you. 

The crow bounced a little further down as if wanting a look itself. Hongjoong liked watching sometimes, you knew. He’d hide in your closet while you worked, silently jerking off in private until you finished. Then he’d shove himself in your mouth and down your throat, muttering degrading words as you swallowed his load. You wished he were there now. You pictured his dark eyes observing you from the corner, his hand wrapped around his stiff erection, and mouth hanging open in his groans. Mingi might be good, but nobody made you feel how Hongjoong did. You’d do anything to please him. You went to lengths you’d never do for any other man, not even if they paid, but you did for him. 

“Stay still, stay still,” Mingi huffed, breaths turning into higher whines as he started pushing up into you. 

Soon, cold globs spilled your sex and you stayed firmly planted to let him finish. It was a strange feeling every time, even now that you expected it. You yelped and giggled when more came. It tingled, and you rocked your hips with hopes of getting more.

Like he’d promised, Mingi didn’t stop. He took you in various positions, an Undead soldier who could go for hours without tiring at all. Your body began wavering, every muscle growing stiff and sore from the exertion, and your mind numbing to the pleasure. Only the crow saw you slowly spiral into the drooling wreck your curse will soon make you permanently. You didn’t know what time it was or where you’d gone when Mingi finally pulled out of you. 

“You’re incredible,” he huffed, eyes closed as he laid beside you. “I wish I could keep you.”

“You won’t be?”

“No,” he shook his head, “Sadly not. I’m taking you to the Grey Lands until Lord Kim can come get you.”

‘The Grey Lands?”

“Some people call it the Graveyard or Deadville,” he said in a bored voice, “But it’s home. It’s near the Crescent Mountains where he lives, so it’s the most sensible place for you to be. If I want some favor with Kim, I think bringing him his special pet will get it for me.” 

“Favor?”

“Yeah,” he rolled onto his side, “I might be a general but I get restrictions too. I want to go on leave before the war, and I can only do that with his help. If I take care of you, he’ll see you’re safe and he’ll give me anything I want.”

“Why can’t you just ask?”

“He’d have to open the portal between the living and the afterlife,” he said, “And that’s a big ask of him.”

“What makes you think he’d do it?”

He smiled at you, “Because he’s been looking for you since Yunho kidnapped you.”

This caught your attention, “How do you know that?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You have his brand on you. You’re carrying his curse, so obviously he must have some use for you. I would’ve thought it’d be gifting you to someone, but clearly that’s not it. I figured I’d give you back, then get what I asked for.” 

“I guess that’s a good plan.” 

Fuzziness and pain kept you from putting pieces together. You laid in the hay bed, sprawled out naked and feeling lukewarm semen leaking to the floor. The sweat started chilling on your skin, and you shivered from the cold. 

“It’s a good plan, I won’t lie. I might give it to him when I have you in my arms again.” 

“General,” an Undead soldier came up to the cage carrying a tiny scroll in his skeletal fingers, “A message from Command.”

“Leave it on my desk,” he said, sliding to you and kissing your cheek. “I’m enjoying my pet right now.”

“I’m afraid it cannot wait, sir,” he replied. “It’s from Lord Kim personally. It has his seal.” 

Mingi shot right up, pushing black hair from his face and trying to hide the panic. “Give it here,” he reached through the bars to take the scroll. 

He moved away from you. The soldier’s eyes fell on your sweaty, naked body and you turned away in shame. The soldiers took to watching whenever Mingi entered your cage. Not needing to breathe much, they hid in the shadows like ghosts and watched. Their pale eyes glowed in the darkness, sending chills down your spine. You recalled last night when a whole group watched on, stroking themselves and groaning. The sight of their bluish sperm leaking onto the floor intrigued and disgusted you. You grabbed your tunic to cover yourself from him, but he did not look away from you.

“Good…” you heard Mingi mutter under his breath, “Good…Exactly as I planned it…I had no idea you were this special to him, though. Normally, he allows the suffering to continue.”

“I, um, suppose, sir?” The soldier gulped, moving closer to get a better look at you. You shifted away. “General, the men and I were wondering when you wish to press onward. We’re walking through Lycan territory, and the packs here don’t take kindly to outsiders.”

“I’ve never known my men to be afraid of a bunch of dogs.”

“They’re hardly dogs, sir.” 

“Get ready to move, then. His Lordship says he’ll meet us at home base,” he said, rereading his letter. “You, get up and get dressed,” he said to you hurriedly, “Come with me.” 

After waiting for you to put on your tunic, he grabbed your arm and tugged you out of the wagon. He paraded you through the encampment, his comrades groaning in delight as you passed them. Their whispers and chuckling reached your ears, and you stared at the ground. You knew they remembered last night. Visions of it made you sick. The curse warped your mind, burrowing all kinds of thoughts into you. You know soon enough you will not care if they watch or not. You will be so gone, you'd want them to join and feed the never ending hunger. They likely knew this too, and you trembled. 

Mingi’s tent was the largest, though very bare inside. A cot put to the side with a trunk, he had a table of maps and documents with writing utensils. He kept his armor on a chair, with his weapons leaning against it. It was a long sword with a bone handle, and a shield with a crow. You stared at the shield as he began rifling through his trunk. It was fully black, its wings outstretched under a crescent moon. Dark winds flapped overhead, brushing your head lightly and you saw your crow perch on the edge of the square shield. You approached him with a weak smile, plopping into a seat beside it. Stroking his head, you fed it some seeds. 

“Ugh, I think I'm dead, bud,” you sighed, eyes falling closed. “Everything hurts. This thing will be the end of me for sure.” You studied the shield, “Is this you?” you tapped the crow. “Nah, I doubt it. It'd be funny if it was though.”

“Who are you talk-” Mingi stood, holding an old book, and paused when he saw the crow. “How did he get in here?”

“He flew, obviously,” you stretched, then winced from the pain. “Is the big bad general afraid of birds?” you teased, giggling at his apprehension. 

“That one? Yes. Has he been following you this whole time?”

“I think so? I mean, what are the odds I'm meeting a crow everywhere I go?” You stroked his feathers lightly. “I don't mind it. He's alright, and good company.” You saw the book in his hand, and said, “What’s with the book?”

“Your curse is worsening,” Mingi noted as he put the book down. With a wave of his hand, a bottle and a bag of herbs floated out of the trunk and on his desk. “You used to have reservations. Now they’re breaking. Soon, you’ll be humping anything in sight.”

“As I've been hearing all the time,” you said, shifting as a stinging pain shot through you. “It isn't so bad in the moment. The pain after is the bitch though.”

“Exactly. It’s taking its toll on your body and your mind,” he said. “His Lordship has asked me to-yes, perfect! It’s right here!” He skimmed through a page in the book, “I forgot he’d given this to me. It should be here.”

“What should be? The spell to lift it?” 

“Oh, he'd never divulge that kind of magic to me,” he chuckled, “This will make it more enjoyable versus painful. He must like you a lot if he actually cares about the effects. It's strange. Normally that's the entire point of The Hand of Lust. Curses are supposed to be bad…Get on the cot,” he said. 

“This will make it go away?” you asked hopefully, laying on his soft bed. The pain in your body radiated, almost throbbing like a heartbeat. “Please tell me it will.”

“The curse? No. The pain? Yes,” he replied, snapping his fingers. Right away, the herbs floated into the bowl where a pestle started crushing them. 

He lifted your tunic over your stomach. The sudden exposure tingled your mark, and you nearly sobbed. Not again. You just finished. You couldn't take it anymore. The soreness intensified each time your clit throbbed, the vulnerability alone arousing you. The urge to reach out for his groin came to you, and you writhed on the bed. You squeezed your eyes shut, keeping your hands close to your chest. This turned out to be a mistake, because the slight brush on your breast caused a ripple. It felt stiff, and ached when you brushed it a second time. Yet, you wanted Mingi to wrap his lips around it. You wished he'd unstick his hand and shove his fingers back inside you one more time. 

“Mingi, please, do something,” you whined, clutching the covers. “It aches all over…” Twisted on the bed, the urge flaring and you brushed it again. The connection between the sensitive spot and your cunt made it throb, which brought tears to your eyes. Your hips rocked for friction, but only found the air.

The past two days on the road were a blend of pleasure and pain. Whenever Mingi entered your cage, you felt nothing but hungry lust. It was like joining a feast where you kept eating even if you’d gotten full. The time between each round became shorter; your body yearning for his touch even after everything in you begged for an end. At times, you came onto him, grabbing parts of him to keep in the cage and use as you liked. You assumed this was the curse’s control over your mind at play. Namjoon said you’d soon be unable to stop yourself. You feared the day that happened, where your choices will be stripped from you and you’d hunger for nothing but that physical satisfaction.

“My friend told me there was no counter-curse,” you whimpered, eager to lift your tunic off to soothe the heat rising up around your neck.

“Yes, because he likely didn’t know it,” said Mingi. “I’ve studied the magical arts for hundreds of years, YN. I’m sure I know things that your little townie friend doesn’t.” He finally landed on the right page, and let the book levitate beside him. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. I highly enjoy fucking your brains out, but I do feel guilty at the end result. You’re always in so much pain after, and my salves and potions cannot be used too often.”

“Psh, tell me about it.”

You weren’t fond of the purple, lumpy healing potions Mingi fed you whenever you finished. It was meant to clear your mind, but after two days of constant consumption, it now made you vomit. The salves, the iridescent sticky paste, brought on rashes if constantly used. It began another weight of suffering for you to bear. 

You laid flat on the bed, eyeing Mingi’s hands as they dipped into the bowl beside him. The golden oil peppered with the crushed leaves dripped from his fingers and onto your thighs. The mere feeling of the thin droplets sliding down your skin beckoned your arousal. He scooped more to drizzle over your swollen, sore lips and you let out a soft moan.

“Mingi…please, don’t,” you sobbed, tears streaming from your temples into your hair.

“It’ll only hurt for a moment. I need you to stay still and quiet for me, okay?” he said in the gentle, comforting tone he’d used after sex.

He began muttering in a rough, foreign language you couldn’t understand, occasionally glancing at the book in front of him. Long fingers danced over your body, not reacting to your constant shaking as you pictured them all over you again. Soon, you bit down on your lower lip to suppress a scream when he touched you. Rough hands slid down and within your inner thighs, the massage easing your sore muscles but enticing your curse. You tightly shut your eyes when his thumbs pressed to the sides of your cunt, rubbing the thin oil into the folds starting to dampen at his touch.

Mingi did not seem affected by this change. His pale eyes remained concentrated on his work, which you felt grateful for at least. Mingi did not enjoy your suffering as he’d have his men believe. He treated you so gently since you’d been on the road: making sure you were clean, well fed and comfortable in your little cage. He comforted you with stories of his adventures late at night, stroking your hair and placing kisses where he could. He’d been the nicest of the men you’d met so far. It was you who constantly teased and allured him. You had a sense Lord Kim’s influence and constant watching kept him from doing anything too painful to you.

Unable to break his incantation, you weren’t warned when he slid two fingers inside. You shook your head involuntarily, the tears of your entrance stinging at the substance coating them and sobbed harder. The curse made it enjoyable, but your pain heavily outweighed it. He kept the movement slow and thorough, making sure to get every crevasse he could before sliding back out. You took several deep breaths to ease the painful stinging, almost as if trying to become one with the pain. However, after a few minutes, the pain there ceased all at once.

“Better?” He asked, hands sliding up your body to your breasts.

“Yes.”

He dropped more fragrant oil over your chest, the thin oil sliding off them to the curves before he went to work. The oil made his movements slippery and smooth, stimulating the painful itching in your nipples. He muttered another long incantation as his thumbs went in circles, starting from the center and moving to the wrinkled areolas. Then, he massaged both of them with his full palms. The ache did not pain you as much here, causing more pleasure as he started further up to your shoulders and then your arms. His hands worked like magic. They relieved every dull ache, lifting off the heaviness in your muscles and bones. He did not grip too hard, but applied enough pressure to work it out of you.

When he flipped you onto your front, you felt yourself floating on clouds. The calming scent coming off your skin and the incense combined with Mingi’s hands pushed out every thought in your head. You nearly forgot where you were. Even when he spilled more oil onto your buttocks, immediately spreading it as he kneaded them, you barely registered it. You only whimpered when he drizzled more between them, likely taking a moment to watch it trickle down before using his thumbs to alleviate the stinging.

“Oops,” he said, his thumb happening to push past the rim and inside you, “Sorry. It’s just so slippery,” he didn’t withdraw the digit but instead started pushing and pulling, “And your body is so pliable now. It’s as if it wants me in there…”

“Mingi,” his name came out in a soft sigh.

Your body did not fight him off. The tiny bit of pressure blossomed into pleasure rather than pain. You snuggled into the pillow, arms wrapped under it as he removed his thumb. More oil dripped down your back as he straddled your thighs and worked on your shoulders. Though, you noticed a certain hardness poking your ass whenever he leaned forward. You wanted him to pull it out to stuff in you, whichever hole he wanted, they both felt prepared enough.

“It’ll still affect your mind, and your body will tire after a time,” he said. “I sadly cannot lift it from you completely, but this must be a bit of a reprieve, right?”

“Yes,” you nodded, eyes closed to savor the sensations. “Yes, it is.”

“How about we test it out?” he suggested, though he knew your answer. “I’ve never done this before. I want to know if it works properly.”

“Mmm, please.”

With a bit of shifting, Mingi withdrew his cock and pressed the head to your dripping sex. You clutched the underside of the pillow, moaning into the soft cotton inside as he traced it. Your mark still burned, but your body did not. It felt more relaxing than frustrating. He kept himself up on one hand as he slid the other between the mattress and your tits. The gentle squeeze mixed with his head splitting you open deepened your need for his full length. Mingi then kept you trapped underneath him with his body laying on top of yours, hands grabbing your nipples as he fully plunged in your pussy. His low grunts matched your whiny moans, the both of you slowly diving further into bliss as the tension built up.

“Fuck,” he breathed in your ear, “I swear that oil made your pussy even better than before. You’re so much tighter and warmer.”

His cold cock didn’t affect you like before, becoming more desirable to you than intimidating. His hands felt like cooling ice balls instead of prickling icicles. It did not warm up even as he started thrusting faster and harder, hitting the deepest part of you each time so you saw fireworks. Mingi knew your body by now, and eagerly chased down the orgasm he sensed at the end. You prayed he gave it soon. His own twitching cock let you know he was barely hanging on, and you purposefully clenched to milk him. His come. His cold, sticky, sweet come that he’d pumped into every hole you offered the previous two nights became your goal. You imagined him filling each one again, forcing it inside you until you were leaking all over.

He grinned above you when your body spasmed. He continued the same pace and played with your nipples as you came around him. It was better than anything. His sheets bundled underneath you, they acted as a specific friction to your clit and you came harder. His moans starting to elongate and deepen, you begged him to finish in you again so he did.

“Cum in me,” you begged breathily, “Cum deep in me. Please, Mingi, please fill me up, please.”

“Trust me,” he replied through gritted teeth, “I’m going to give you every single load.”

He shuddered, moans turning into faint, cracked gasps as he pulsed in every stroke. You whimpered at the cum spraying your insides again, enjoying the chilly sensation instead of recoiling. Like before, once Mingi finished, you wanted to go again and he didn’t stop you. Laying on the opposite end of the bed, he watched you ride him once more, holding onto your bouncing tits the entire time. You knew how much he liked them, and didn’t hesitate to hover them over his lips. The little cot squeaked in each movement, only encouraging the both of you to match the sound it made. Nothing else penetrated your thoughts except getting more of him. It became your singular thought as Mingi had you in other ways; he came inside you every time, forcing his come in your throat, your ass or your cunt whenever he orgasmed. Without the physical pain to distract you, you couldn’t stop yourself from enjoying him.

As the crow near the bed looked on…

****

You laid in Mingi’s bed, your entire being a pool of jelly on the sweaty sheets. The hazy euphoria of your final orgasm left you feeling light-headed. The curse’s magic still lingered inside you, but you were able to fight it off this time. You kept a tight lid on it as you watched Mingi, unbothered by the exertion, pull his clothes and armor back on. Despite being a walking corpse, Mingi appeared well put together aside from his hands and head. You saw unhealed wounds on his torso and arms, dead muscles having turned black and bloodless. It must’ve been like cutting paper; nothing to show but dead flesh. Years of fighting on battlefields and sparring with his men shaped out Mingi’s lean figure, appearing to have more muscle on his old bones. It was when he turned around that you saw the same crow-and-moon symbol on his left shoulder blade.

“That symbol,” you said, resting on your front, “What does it mean?”

“It’s Lord Kim’s mark,” he answered, pulling a cotton shirt over it. “We all bear his sigil on our bodies somewhere. It’s a sign of our loyalty to him. He did raise us from the dead, after all.”

“Why?”

“He needed an army.”

“For what?”

“Well, YN, every lord has some kind of army to defend his lands.”

“But people say he’s a demon. Aren’t demons supposed to be all powerful?”

“They are and he is, but he can only do so much on his own. Every magic being has their limitations,” he said. Stepping into his trousers, he pulled them to his narrow hips as he said, “Not to mention, he needed one to stop the former Northern King from destroying the rest of us.”

“Former Northern King?”

“Yes, King Argos. He was a total prick,” he scoffed. “He starved his people. He raised high taxes on the magical races and demanded they pay tribute to him in order to keep their homelands. He was the one who pushed the Naga off the mainland and into the Caper Islands. He’s the reason the Dragonites keep to themselves, and only have their volcano range now. The goblin and fae races were almost wiped out when he took over their lands. The man was a damn colonizer,” he said, eyes narrowed. “He’d force his own religion and ideology on the people there; his soldiers put up encampments and forts, their constant presence a reminder of our subservience to them. Not to mention all the things he stole: The Naga’s golden throne, several priceless inventions from the goblins, magical artifacts from the fairies, and all the resources he could find.” You saw anger flare in his milky eyes, the memories pouring back into him like water. “The magical races were slaves to humans for generations before Lord Kim appeared. He…He became our savior. He came with his beasts-”

“-Beasts? What beasts? You mean like the octopus Seonghwa has?”

“Bigger and worse,” Mingi answered. “Cora, The Kraken, was used to knock out Argos’s naval ships. The Wyvern, Aerion, turned his camps and forts to ashes. The Minotaur, Cerebus, and the Chimera joined in various battles on land. They’re huge, nasty and vicious beasts that only serve Him. No man or magicfolk alive could defeat them.”

Hearing the word ‘Kraken’ brought back a faded, dark memory. Closing your eyes, you thought back to when you had crashed. You remembered the encompassing, suffocating water filling your lungs, limbs starting to fail as pressure squeezed your lungs, when something caught hold of you. Large dark eyes glowing at you from the abyss. Long tentacles wrapping around you easily. The swiftness and strength it used to carry you through the ocean and up onto land. Thinking about them rattled your bones, and you hugged your pillow tighter.

“Anyway, he came with his beasts and magic to destroy Argos’s tyranny for good,” he continued. “He liberated them one by one. He gave the races back their lands and helped those who needed it to rebuild. He became the new Northern King, though I personally believe he doesn’t see himself as a king.”

“Seonghwa mentioned only letting Yunho onto his island because of him.”

“Yes, the Naga and Dragonites have been at each other’s throats for centuries. Don’t ask me why, nobody really knows anymore,” he added quickly. “It’s an old feud that started with their ancestors and it’s gotten passed down since then. But, His Lordship needs them to finally work together or at least be civil with each other. Their fighting has cost lots of lives and lands. He can only let it go on for so long before they’ve destroyed half the land.”

“And they listen to him?”

“Everyone does. He’s wise and old. Plus, they both owe him debts that can never be repaid.”

Rolling onto your back, sleepiness starting to take over, you imagined the intimidating figure living atop a cold mountain.

“Does he have a name?” you asked.

“I’m sure he does, but nobody knows what it is.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know,” he said rather thoughtfully, tying his vest as he wondered. “I guess nobody has asked or he’s never offered it? Everyone I know has always called him ‘Lord Kim’ or ‘His Lordship’ or ‘His Excellency’. We'll be seeing him in The Grey Lands, so you can ask then. You know, when you’re done sucking him off or something.”

“My friend told me only he can lift my curse. Would he…Would he do it if I asked?”

Mingi didn’t answer right away. His eyes looked over at the crow jumping around on the ground, pecking into the dirt, then back at you. 

“I don’t know.”

“I had a runestone to trade for it, but I lost it when the boat went under,” you frowned, recalling the small stone with its strange mark on the side. “They said I could use it as a payment.” 

“A runestone might’ve worked for a lesser demon, but he doesn’t need runestones. He has plenty.”

“Then what would he want?”

“That’s easy: you, lovely.” 

You dreaded what that meant. This ‘Lord Kim’ might not lift your curse at all and make you his mindless sex slave. It weighed down your high with fear, and you curled into a ball. He won’t save you. He’d likely enjoy your torment considering you’re human. A demon who took down an entire human army and their king likely has no love for them. He’ll like having you as a slave. You shut your eyes to let the exhaustion sink you into your dreams. 

“I'd never make you my slave, love. If anything, I'm yours.”

Yet, before you could fully go under, shouting came from outside the tent.

****

A/N: Uh-oh, what the hell's happening now? Well, at least she's gotten some kind of relief. Thanks for reading this chapter, and the lovely comments you guys leave me <3 Remember to reblog and like <3

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured VI

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: Jenni returns to you

Mapi and Ingrid come over a lot now that you don't see Mami. They visit you and Tia Alba all the time and bring you things like new trains and toys and Ingrid even buys you new ballet pumps when you tearfully tell her that you left your ones at Mami's home.

It's different living with Tia Alba. She works from home a lot and she has plenty of time for you. That's a little weird, you think. The attention is nice but it's a little scary.

All of this is a little scary.

Last week, when Abuela came to see you and you asked the bad question, she cried. Abuela cried and cried and you cried too. She said that she would fix this, she promised you that she would fix this but one look at Tia Alba's face told you that no one was sure that this could be fixed.

You wish things were back to normal. You don't want to live with Mami right now but you miss her. You miss the Mami from before, who would take you to the train store after her games and read you fun bedtime stories with all the special voices.

You miss the Mami who would give you little kisses all over your face and call you her most favourite little girl in the whole entire world. You miss the Mami who would let you crawl into bed with her and sit on her knee before a game.

But now, Mami loves Miss Olga and baby Jaume and the train store near Mami's house is shutting down.

There is no Before anymore and you don't think you can get the Before back ever again.

You don't see Mami and you don't want to, even if you really miss her sometimes. Tia Alba looks like Mami and sometimes you can pretend that she is Mami, if you close your eyes and try really hard.

Tia Alba gives you cuddles and kisses and plays trains with you and takes you to your ballet lessons on time. If you try really hard and squeeze your eyes shut nice and tight, you can pretend that it's Mami doing those things and you're in the Before again, when it was just you and her.

"We have a surprise for you," Mapi says as she gets ready to leave," Me and Ingrid. Would you like to see it?"

A surprise makes you scared. Mami told you about baby Jaume as a surprise too.

You look up at Tia Alba and she nods in encouragement so you nod as well.

Ingrid covers your eyes and that makes you nervous too, straining your ears.

You don't want the surprise to be Mami. You really, really don't want it to be Mami.

"How's my favourite little girl in the entire world?"

Ingrid's hands peal away from your eyes and you're already moving.

The arms around you feel nice and safe. You're tucked securely into the neck of a very familiar body. Familiar hands card through your hair and squeeze you with just the right amount of pressure that makes you go all limp and boneless.

You sniffle.

"Jenni?"

"Hi, Bambi," She coos at you. Kisses land on the top of your head.

You don't even notice Mapi and Ingrid leaving, so nice and secure in Jenni's arms.

"I missed you," You whisper.

"I missed you too. I always miss my favourite little girl."

You sniffle again, pulling away. You don't believe her. Mami used to say the same thing. You want to believe Jenni but you don't because you believed Mami once and all she did was lie to you.

"I missed you so, so much. See?" Jenni says. One hand lets go of you to pull out her phone. She turns on her lock screen.

It's a picture of you and her from the last time you saw each other.

You're smiling and Jenni's smiling too and more tears run unchecked down your cheeks.

"I missed you, Jenni," You whimper.

"I missed you too, Bambi. Do you want another cuddle?"

You nod.

You're absolutely tiny compared to her, so tiny and weak and completely broken. Jenni could scarcely believe it when Mapi called out of the blue.

She was in the middle of training but something told her to pick up and she did. The words came out of Mapi's mouth like an avalanche and Jenni didn't believe them.

"Alexia wouldn't neglect Bambi," She'd replied," Don't be stupid, Mapi. Bambi is the greatest thing in her life."

It was only later that Jenni realised that maybe she was projecting. You were the greatest thing in her life and had been since you were born.

You were even smaller than you were now, swaddled in a pale pink blanket Jenni had seen at a store one day and bought randomly. You had fit so beautifully in her arms with your tiny little limbs. You were everything and more and Jenni had felt jealousy stir within her that you were Alexia's.

You were the greatest thing in Jenni's life and she couldn't understand that there was a world where you weren't the greatest thing in Alexia's too.

You still fit so perfectly against her, like when you were younger, even though you're so different to then. You're so different yet completely the same.

Your trains are scattered around Alba's living room floor. You swing your legs when Jenni picks you up and you rest your head against her shoulder until all she can feel are the soft, sleepy puffs of your breath against her neck.

"You didn't have to come," Alba says softly," I don't want you to miss your matches."

"I took time off," Jenni says dismissively as she moves you until you're tucked more securely against her, completely asleep after crying yourself out," Bambi comes first."

"Jenni-"

"I almost adopted her, you know," Jenni cuts her off, blinking her own tears away," When Alexia and I were still together. Everything was nearly finished. I still have the papers. I'd signed everything. I just needed Alexia's signature giving her permission."

It's new information to Alba, clearly, but Jenni had assumed that. It was meant to be a quiet thing, a surprise for you and the rest of the family.

"And then you broke up," Alba replies.

"And then we broke up." Jenni looks down at you. Even in your sleep, you look troubled, your hand tightly making a fist around her shirt like you're afraid that she's going to disappear. "I was still happy to go through with it but I was going to Mexico and Alexia thought it would cause too much stress on Bambi. She was right, of course, but...I can't believe she's done this."

Jenni's still in shock from it all. She'd left for Mexico thinking that you would be loved, that you would be so loved by Alexia and whoever she ended up with, whoever else would adopt you in Jenni's stead. She didn't think anything like this was even possible.

"Have you got a place to stay?"

"There's a hotel-"

"Stay here," Alba says," I've only got one spare room but I don't think Bambi minds sharing. She's been sleeping with me most nights anyway."

If Jenni didn't care as much, she'd try to resist but you feel so soft and small against her that she doesn't care. She doesn't want to get a hotel room across the city. She wants to be right here, with you.

"Thank you, Alba."

"She's got ballet at three. You can take her if you want. Parents can stay in the reception area and watch."

When you wake up from your impromptu nap, it's to the shocking realisation that Jenni is real. She's real and she's holding you, lounging back on the sofa and watching tv. She's holding you and she lays soft kisses on top of your head every so often. She's laying soft kisses on your head and her nails are gently scratching at your back.

"We've got ballet soon," She whispers to you when she notices your staring," Do you feel better?"

You nod, dropping your head back down onto her chest as more kisses rain down on top of you.

"Do you enjoy ballet?" Jenni asks. Her voice is still soft and low and it wraps you up in a nice bubble that feels like the Before.

"Yes." Your voice is as equally quiet and soft.

"More than football?"

The thought of football makes your stomach go wavy. It churns and swirls and your throat closes up. "Mami was upset," You whisper," Because I was not very good when she took me."

A few months before Jaume was born, Mami took you to a team of kids your age. She had watched you with eagle eyes the whole time as the other kids left you in the dust. She hadn't yelled. She hadn't screamed but she had gone quiet.

You'd asked her what was wrong when she was driving home, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tight her knuckles went white.

"Nothing is wrong," She'd said to you," I'm just disappointed."

She'd taken you back a few more times but every time it was the same. Every day ended with 'I'm just disappointed'.

It was Abuela that told Mami to put you into ballet, spending weeks convincing her that you not playing football wasn't the end of the world.

You're scared Jenni is going to be the same so you scrunch your eyes up tight and wait for this familiar words.

"Do you really like ballet?" Jenni asks instead.

You wonder if this is a trick. You don't know what you're supposed to say so you settle on the truth. Tia Alba always tells you that you can't get in trouble for saying the truth.

"I think I like it more than I like my trains," You murmur and Jenni lands a kiss on your head.

"Well, you've got ballet in a bit," Jenni says," Is it okay if I come to watch?"

"Please, Jenni."

The ballet studio wasn't too far from Alba's house, a walkable distance between it and Alexia's.

You seemed to get more and more excited the closer you got until you were practically vibrating as Jenni swapped your trainers for your ballet pumps, twisting your hair back into a bun for you.

There's a space of parents to sit and wait, able to peer in on the session through the glass doors.

"I haven't seen you here before," One of the mothers say," Usually, Alexia drops her off and leaves. It's nice that someone is staying."

"I'm Jenni."

"y/n's other mother then? It's nice to meet you."

Jenni knows that she should correct this woman. You're not hers. You're Alexia's. But...she doesn't. She doesn't correct her because, just this once, she wants to live this fantasy where you're hers and you're happy.

"You too," Jenni says, neither confirming or denying this woman's assumption.

Her eyes don't stray from you, not even for a second. You're more animated than Jenni thinks you've been in a while. You're smiling and you're moving and that lingering air of sadness is almost completely gone.

Jenni could pretend that you were happy if it weren't for the fact that you keep glancing out the door, looking genuinely surprised that she's there every time you make eye contact.

"It's so nice that she has someone to support her," The mum from earlier continues," It's such a shame that Alexia never stays to watch. She's so talented."

Jenni's eyes stray to the door, a bolt of lightning shooting down her spine when she notices a very familiar women trying to peer through the reception doors.

"Excuse me." Jenni dismisses herself. She grabs the woman's arm as soon as she's out the door. "You've got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here. I heard Eli banned you from seeing her."

There's a fire in Alexia's eyes that tells Jenni all she needs to know. This wasn't a coincidence.

"How can I make amends if none of you let me see her? What are you even doing here, huh? Last I checked, you live in Mexico."

"And last I checked you were a good mother!"

Jenni balls her hands up into fists to stop herself from lashing out. She pushes away from Alexia, taking a few deep breaths away.

"Just...go away, Alexia."

"No!" Alexia looks half to tears. "No, I won't! That's my baby in there! I just want to see if she's okay!"

"She's going to be okay! But you need to leave her alone!"

"I'm her mother! I shouldn't have to leave her alone! She's mine!"

Jenni sighs, turning her back to her ex. "Go, Ale."

"Jenni...Jenni, please. That's my baby."

Jenni ignores her, shoving the door open and letting it swing shut right in Alexia's face.

"Coparenting issues?" The mother from earlier asks. She tuts. "I remember those days. It'll get better."

Jenni makes a noise of acknowledgement and focuses back on you.

When you come out nearly an hour later, you're so excited, grabbing Jenni's hand and pulling her all the way over to your dance teacher.

"You're not Alexia," The woman says.

"Jenni. Jenni Hermoso. I'm y/n's-"

She has to stop herself. She's not sure what to say. She's not your mother. She's not your step-mother. She's the woman that could have adopted you, once upon a time.

"I'm Jenni," She settles on.

"Well, Jenni, if you could pass this along to Alexia? I run another class on Thursdays for the more..." She glances around, lowering her voice. "Advanced students. I really think your y/n would fit right in."

She hands Jenni a permission slip and information pack and Jenni just nods dumbly, one hand holding yours and the other this stack of papers.

"Er...yeah," She says," I'll get it to her."

The teacher smiles and bids you goodbye as the older children flood into her studio.

"Advanced, huh?" Jenni says, beaming at you as she hoists you up onto her hip.

You don't make eye contact. "Is that okay? Mami says sometimes that dance is hard to fit in with her schedule."

"I'm not Mami," Jenni says, her eyes flicking to where Alexia is standing in the car park, just watching," It fits perfectly into my schedule."

Alexia looks pathetic, Jenni thinks. She looks small and curled in on herself, nothing like the strong Barcelona captain she knows Alexia is. She looks exhausted too, more exhausted than someone with just a simple newborn.

It's eating her up inside, Jenni knows this but she can find no sympathy in her for the woman she once dreamed of parenting you with.

She dug her grave. Now she must lie in it.

But Jenni's certain that she's not going to let Alexia bury you too.

"That's Mami." Your smile drops from your face and your shoulders slump when you notice Alexia.

"It is," Jenni confirms, standing in the middle of the pavement.

She doesn't want Alexia to see you but she doesn't want you to stop seeing Alexia if you want to see her.

"Is she here to take me away?" Your voice wobbles and you look over at your Mami from under your lashes.

"I think she's just here to see how your lesson went."

"She got me a train and another present," You whisper," I haven't opened them. Will she be angry at me?"

"No, Bambi," Jenni says and her next words taste like ash in her mouth," Your Mami loves you too much to be angry at you."

"And she won't take me from you?"

"No one is going to take you from me."

You bite at your lip and Jenni hates the uncertainty in your eyes. "Can...Can we see Mami?"

"If you want."

"Please, Jenni."

Her steps are careful and measured and Alexia stands up straight when she notices you both coming. She wipes her hands on her shirt and straightens out her clothes.

Jenni places you on the ground and Alexia kneels, her arms open for you.

You shy away, ducking behind Jenni's legs and peaking out.

Alexia feels like crying as she drops her arms. "Hola, Bambi," She says, trying to control the wobble in her voice," How was dance?"

"Good," You say," I...My teacher says I can move up. She gave Jenni papers."

Alexia frowns, her eyes flicking up to Jenni. "That's nice."

Jenni holds the papers out to her. "It's a permission slip and information pack," She says," For the advanced class. Bambi is very good at ballet."

Alexia flashes you a smile. "That's good, isn't it, Bambi? You're very good at ballet, huh?"

Your head bobs up and down. "My teacher thinks so."

"I'm very proud of you."

The look of shock on your face is heartbreaking, like you can't quite believe she's saying those words to you.

"Really?" Tears glisten in your eyes and Alexia hates herself for what she's done. You never used to be so uncertain around her.

Her throat closes up and she has to push past the lump to speak again. "So, so proud of you, Bambi. I'm glad you're doing so well at ballet. Maybe I can come and watch soon."

It's clear in that moment that Alexia has maybe pushed too far. The wounds of your neglect are still too raw for you, still open and weeping blood.

You recoil again and squeeze Jenni's hand.

"I have Jenni," You say," She watches me dance."

The look on Alexia's face is heartbroken and finally, Jenni feels the smallest bit of pity.

"Maybe not soon," She says, a hand stroking down the flyaways from your bun," Maybe one day."

"Maybe one day," You repeat softly and Alexia gives you a watery kind of smile in response.

"Maybe one day," She confirms. She stands properly again, looking at the papers in her hand. "I'll...I'll get these back to you signed off soon."

Jenni nods. "I'll talk to your mother. Supervised visits might not be out of the question."

"Thank you."

Jenni picks you up again as Alexia gets into her car. You don't leave her arms all the way back to Alba's place.

Jenni wasn't your mother. There was a chance, a long time ago, that she could have been but Alexia never signed on the dotted line, a line drawn in the sand that's now a gaping chasm.

Jenni isn't your mother but that doesn't mean she doesn't wish she was.

[emptywwwriting]

Brat

Paring: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: After you make a stupid call and get you and Joel into a bad situation he teaches you a lesson

or

Joel fucks some sense into you over a table.

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, Joel is mean, Joel calls you names, reader is high on pain pills lowkey but everything is consented to, it makes sense I promise just read, Joel pushes you around, age gap

WC: 2.5k

A03: Brat

Notes: This is nasty asf im so sorry, feel free to leave feed back. also send asks if u have ideas for future fics. Anyways I have had this written but unpolished for a while, and im lowkey unmotivated with my age gap Jackson fic rn so I wanted to give y'all something until then

Edit: I finally edited it! i hope it sounds a little better, and tysm for notes :)))

“What the fuck is your problem?” Joel yells slamming the door harshly behind him.

“My problem? What the fuck?” You throw your bag down in defeat. 

“We could have brought back all that fucking supplies and you just blew it all up.” You’re yelling at him now.

“Yeah,” He huffs. “real good it would have done us dead!” He's taking steps towards you.

Your throat tightens.

“That loss was on fucking you. We could have just slid by and not started nothin’, now we're down on supplies even more and you have a fuckin hole in your side.” He’s seething and growing closer.

“Yeah, I would've had a real good fix if you had listened to me!” You're shaking, and taking steps towards him, finger in his face.

It's a screaming match, but you're losing steam, the wound on your side is manageable but painful, the stitches pull at your skin and you're still a little dizzy from the blood loss, but the pain pills Joel had shoved in your mouth should kick in any moment.

You and Joel had just stumbled into the middle of a hunter's base while traveling. It was filled with supplies like ammo, guns, and food. The two of you disagreed on whether to get the supplies or not, Joel thought it was too risky but you disagreed. Your stubbornness led to a massive shootout, and shortly after the first shot was fired, the two of you were cornered. Joel had to throw a pipe bomb, which inevitably killed the hunters and blew the supplies to pieces. You barely escaped the fight after a bullet grazed your side. Now you were left with no ammo or supplies, and a pissed-off Joel.

“Listen to you?” He retorts, shocked. “You nearly got us killed!” He's gaining on you, backing you into the wall.

“I was thinking ahead! If you would have just followed me and not made a fuss, we would have been fine!” Your voice starts to falter as his tall frame devours you.

“Thinking ahead my ass, you were only thinkin’ bout yourself!” He furiously spat. 

You back up slowly, as he continues to yell. You can't think of anything else to say, and your throat feels raw. His eyes are filled with rage, brows pinched together tightly. His hand lands on your shoulder, and with a firm shove, your back instantly hits the wall. Before you can process what happened, his hand flies up, grasping your jaw harshly and pulling your head to look up at him.

“If you’re gonna act like a fuckin’ idiot again, don't drag me down with you.” He says carefully. 

His chest is rising and falling quickly fighting aginst the constaints of his flannel The breath has been ripped from your lungs as you stare up at him anticipaitingly. You can't break eye contact, and silence is starting to take over, only both of your heavy breathing fills the air. His eyes are black, staring so deep into your own you feel like you can't hide anything. His grip on your jaw loosens, only for a moment before you are yanked towards him. His lips crash into yours messily, capturing you in a violent kiss. His body is pushed into yours, knee slotting in between your legs, pressing you even further back into the wall. You feel his teeth graze your lips, biting and nipping at anything he can. You try to keep up with the frantic kiss, but can't. His hands move from your jaw to your neck, to your shoulder and back, like he doesn't know where to go. Your own are frozen at your side, balled into fists. The fast pace is bruising and your jaw begins to ache from his force. 

His lips leave yours, as he brings your head up further craning it. Just as you are finally able to take a breath, he reconnects to your neck. Sucking on every inch of skin he can, it's fast and almost narotic, anamiliostic even, but it doesn't stop you from trying to squeeze your legs together. His bites become more harsh and you can't help but let out weak groans. He pushes his knee up into you more and your legs go numb. Your mouth is wide open, eyes screwed shut.

Joel is littering kisses and merciless bites down the column of your neck, hands feeling feverishly up and down your sides.

He trails to your collarbone, biting it gently then making his way back up. He kisses his way to your jaw and over to your ear before standing up completely. His leg disappears from under you and you have to catch yourself from falling.

Looking down at you, his eyes are still dark.

“Go stand in front of the table.” His voice sounds scratchy and out of breath. 

You stare at him blinking dumbly trying to make sense of everything that just happened. Your mouth opens to say something, but the thought is lost as soon as it had come to you. His hair is disheveled, sleeves are rolled up exposing his aged yet muscular forearms. He is so tall and so brooding, it's so terrifyingly attractive. Something about his rage is just turning you on more and you know its wrong but it feels so good.

“You stupid or sumthin’?” He sounds mean, so condescending, and normally his talking down on you enrages you, but right now, everything in your head wants more of him. His kisses, his smell, the way his knee felt pushing up against your most sensitive part, you feel high.

He tilts his head at you warningly, and you slowly push yourself off the wall and walk shakily over to the table in the middle of the dusty room. You place your hands on the edge of the table standing up straight and facing away from Joel. It's quiet for a minute before you hear the thudding of his boots growing closer to you. They stop just behind you and you're shoved over the table by a rough hand. You whine at this quietly, hands braced against the surface. Once again he makes contact with your back, pushing you slowly yet firmly into the piece of furniture, forcing your arms out to the side of you.

“You’re a fuckin’ brat.” His hands trail their way to your hips squeezing long and hard, pulling them against his own. He's kneading the flesh, you feel his eyes burning holes into you.

“Just a stupid kid, thinkin’ you always know what's best.” He trails off and starts pulling your jeans down and over your ass slowly. The cold air of the room gives you chills and you attempt to push your legs together.

You turn your head to the side.

“N-not a kid.” You are barely able to get out, your lungs still feel empty.

His hand makes contact with your now bare ass. Not hard, but enough to make you close your mouth.

“Shut it.” He's serious.

He sighs and continues.

“You're cocky, and young...” He pauses for a moment, maybe second guessing himself about to fuck a twenty year old girl, the same thought crosses your mind but neither of you really care at this point.

Your head is spinning out of control, a slight nausous feelings seeps into your gut when you suddenly recall the three multi-colored pills Joel had given you earlier. Your stomach drops for only a moment before you recognize the euphoria flooding your brain. 

You barely notice the sound of Joel’s belt buckle coming undone.

“Should have listened to me ya know,” He says, grabbing your ass firmly and pulling it away from the table, and snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“I've kept you safe for how many months now?” He grunts, prodding your entrance.

You gasp.

He leans to the side and makes eye contact with you.

“Listen to me next time and maybe you won't have a fuckin’ hole in your stomach again.” He stands back up straight again.

“Mhm sorry-” Your apology is empty, you feel like you're melting into the table, and all you can think about is the feeling of his dick at your hole. You're not really sorry, your just sorry hes not already in you.

You know this, and he knows this.

“Yeah, sorry don't cut it no more. Think you can look all pretty at me and I'll forgive you? I'm done with that shit.” He thrusts into you so suddenly you yell, or at least you think you do, but you're too dizzy and the feeling of his cock deep inside is all you can feel. He's saying something but you can't hear anymore, your eyes are shut and all you know is the weight of him inside you. His touch is like a mantra in your head.

Joel Joel Joel Joel

He pulls back quickly, then slowly sinks into you again. You're moaning over each inch, unable to do anything but take it. He pushes your ass apart, and pulls out slightly, sinking back in once more. He repeats this slowly a few more times, mesmerized by the sight of you sucking him in. Your moans come out strangled, and you stumble over incoherent words.

“I always take care of you right?” His voice is low. His hands go to your hips again and continue at a slow pace. The wet sound is so disgustingly loud, that it makes you cringe, but just as with every other thought, it is quickly blurred. Your brain is foggy with lust, and probably the painkillers, but that doesn't matter right now, nothing but this amazing feeling inside of you matters.

You moan in response. He huffs out a laugh.

“You're never this compliant, this what I have t’do to make you listen?” His hands squeeze you harder.

You hum so brokenly in response he almost feels bad, but the way you're gripping around him lulls him in further, there's no going back now.

“Gon' be real good for me?” His southern drawl drips off of every word he says. 

“Let me take care of you like I always do. You be a good girl and keep layin’ here.” You go to speak but your words die in your throat when he slams into you again. 

His pace quickens so fast you can't move anymore. Your eyes are now wide open staring across the empty room, mouth open moaning non stop. He is hitting something so devastating inside of you that your knees go weak and hang loosely over the table. He's grunting, with each thrust, lost in the way you feel.

“Fuck, so good. Feels so good.” He's breathless, holding onto your bruised hips for dear life.

“Shoulda' done this months ago.” He slurs.

The thought of Joel fucking you, in the truck, in the woods, in dilapidated houses, really anywhere, is making the blood rush to your head. Your neglected clit is throbbing needily, and your stomach is beginning to tighten.

Your walls squeeze around him and his pace falters for a moment as he lets out a strangled moan, he sounds like he's in pain. You on the other hand are just yelling at this point, weak moans lace everything that comes out of your mouth. Your arms are gripping the flat surface as much as possible, bracing yourself against his violent movements. The coil tightens and you feel your orgasm approaching.

An “Oh god” leaves your mouth but it's so slurred and desperate it doesn't feel real.

“Come on baby girl.” He angles his hips down and you're blinded by the feeling. 

“Fuckin’, god... Brat. Come all over me.” He sounds breathless, yet still furious. 

You're so high on his everything, that the words only push you further and further over the cliff, and suddenly your whole body tenses so unbelievably tight you can't move. Your hips stutter back against Joel, locking him inside of you. He's sputtering your name, mixed with Fuck’s and You feel so good’s.

Your insides clamp down on him and he stops moving completely, now just grinding his hips into yours weakly. Each wave tightens your body even more than the last, it goes on for what feels like forever. Eventually, the final surge passes and you melt into the table, completely limp. Your senses are numb, and all you can feel is Joel's dick jerking in you rhythmically.

He must have come but you were so overwhelmed by your own orgasm you didn't even notice. He's breathing hard above you, your body is coated in sweat, soaking through your shirt. Slowly your feelings come back. Joel finally releases your hips and pulls out of you gradually. The feeling is deflating, and you feel even smaller than before. Your hole flutters around nothing, but you can't move off the table still. You feel Joel staring at you, and then you feel it start to trickle out of you, shame floods your mind and your face goes red. You feel him bend down to grab the jeans that were still hanging off your ankles, pulling them up and over your ass again. The dampness of his cum makes you shift slightly, and you try to push yourself up off the table. When you do your vision goes black, and you hesitate not wanting to pass out on him right after he fucked you.

Slowly now you stand, legs trembling under your weight. The euphoria of the painkillers is coursing through your body so intensely, that you had forgotten about the wound. Reaching down to feel it, it was dry still not bleeding. 

That's surprising.

You turn to see Joel gathering his things from around the room, and throwing his backpack over his shoulder. He's running his hands nervously through his hair.

How does he look so composed?

Your hair is tangled and messy, dried tears crust your face, and your jeans are still not buttoned and unzipped.

“Get your stuff.” He says quietly, timidly, and not making eye contact.

He wants to leave now?

“We’re not-, I can't even-” You stutter, shocked at how he expects you to be able to walk back to the truck in this state.

“Get  your   stuff.” He says again, giving you a warning glance. 

You blink at him, you're dizzy and weak, everything is sore in the best way possible but you genuinely don't feel like you can walk. You struggle over to your backpack and scoop it off the floor, putting it on. When you look up Joel has already opened the door and is scouting the area, making sure no one is in sight. Once clear he steps out, holding the door for you. You walk slowly, limping over to him not looking him in the eye, you're too embarrassed to. When you step outside he closes the door and begins walking in the direction of the truck. You feel frail and the idea of the half-mile walk back makes you feel even more fatigued. He seems weirdly unbothered by everything that just happened, while you on the other hand are a wreck. 

The whole way back, you stumble after Joel, underwear uncomfortably wet. 

[gothamite-rambler]

Talia: Damian, why is this…super-powered boy next to you?

Damian glanced at Jon, who was floating a few feet above the ground, a bright smile lighting up his face. With a weary sigh, Damian rubbed his tired eyes.

Damian: Mother, this is Jon Kent. You've met him. Numerous times. He’s my best friend.

Talia (not used to the concept of best friends): Best… friend? Friend I get, but what makes him the best?

Jon (floating behind Damian): Wow, I thought your dad was antisocial.

Damian: Yeah, he has the benefit of actually trying to be sociable… Mother, I know you met him in passing while you were busy being insane, but being best friends means he’s my closest… ally.

Talia (sweetish mother tone): Oh, that's so sweet. I don't trust him, but I'm glad my baby has a best ally.

Damian (taking a few steps back): Yeah, don’t hug me. I’m not in the mood.

Talia smiled and patted her son on the head. Jon landed beside Damian, walking over to Talia and waving, his wide smile still in place. Talia tilted her head, suspicion flickering in her eyes at Jon's overly cheerful demeanor.

Talia: I’m not sure what it is about you, Jon, but I’m feeling a strong dislike from you.

Jon: I’m a fan of Nightwing. He’s told me all about you, hag.

Talia swiftly unsheathed her sword, aiming it at Jon and yanking her son close to her side as they backed away together.

Talia: Stay away!

Jon (hand on his hips, grinning): Ma'am, really now, put that oversized toothpick away.

Talia: You have his attitude as well! Stay away from my son!

Jon (evil smile, teasing): Stay away from the bible, you might explode if you touch it.

Damian: Jon, do not antagonize her!

Jon: It’s so tempting! Besides, she doesn’t like Nightwing, so she’s an enemy.

Damian: Mother, let go of me! Jon means well!

Damian broke away, positioning himself between his best friend and his mother. Talia lowered her sword but kept her glare fixed on Jon. The young hero remained unfazed, a confident smile still on his face.

Talia: Keep your eyes on him, habibi, and call me if you need me to deal with him!

Damian: I can promise that isn't necessary.

Jon: You're a good person so that helps.

Damian: Jon, stop before she tries to stab you!

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Dom!Steve Harrington x Reader | Steve is mean, Reader is a brat pushing his buttons till he snaps | Car sex, rough head, finger blasting, we’ve got it all folks | One use of the word ‘Daddy’

“Don’t do that,” Steve groans behind the steering wheel, his face scrunched into a frown.

“Do what?” you ask, playing dumb.

“This,” Steve waves a hand in your general direction. “This weird passive aggressive shit you do. If you have something to say, just say it.”

You stay quiet for a few seconds, long enough to piss Steve off even more. He jerks as you pop your gum beside his ear. “Dammit, (Y/N)!” he snaps. “You almost made me run off the road!”

“Stop being so dramatic,” you tell Steve, rolling your eyes in his direction. “I’m just messing with you. You’re so tense today.”

“Oh yeah?” he retorts. “We’ll keep it up; I’ll pull this car right over and take it all out on your ass.”

There. That’s what you’ve been waiting for, the reason you’ve been such a bitch all day. You don’t respond at first, letting Steve think he’s silenced you. Then, you pop! your gum one more time, and that’s what it takes to push him to his breaking point…

Without a word, Steve glances in the mirrors for a safe opportunity to turn and pulls off the main road. “Where are we going?” you ask playfully, but Steve ignores you. He drives you both down a secluded gravel path, away from any other cars. “Cozy,” you comment as he puts the vehicle in park. “But this isn’t where we’re supposed to be going, Steve.”

“Well maybe if you would’ve been less of a brat today,” Steve counters, undoing his seatbelt. “We’d have already been there by now. That mouth of yours has been slowing me down all damn day. Speaking of which-.” He holds out his hand, palm facing up. “Give me the gum. Now.” You glance at Steve’s hand, smirking a little just to piss him off. Eventually, you lean forward and open your mouth over Steve’s hand, your eyes fixed on his. He watches the curves of your lips as they part for him, your gum landing inside his palm. “Good girl,” Steve tells you. He discards your gum and reaches across to unhook your seatbelt. “Now that your mouth’s empty,” Steve says, undoing his jeans. “I’d better fill it up again before you start talking.” He snaps his fingers at you as if commanding a dog. “Head in my lap. Now.”

You laugh in his face, an airy little chuckle that makes his blood boil. “Oh Steve,” you coo dismissively. “I’m not a dog. I won’t come just because you tell me to.”

“You bet your little ass you’ll come when I tell you,” Steve growls, the darkness in his eyes almost frightening. “Did I fuckin’ stutter? Head in my lap. NOW.”

You shift in your seat so you can stretch across the armrest. It’s fucking hot out and your skin sticks to the leather seats of Steve’s BMW as you lean over. He rests his hand on your head as you lay your face in his lap. The stiff outline of his cock pulses against your cheek and a satisfied grin spreads over your face. This is exactly what you were planning on. You’ve got Steve right where you want him.

“I see that smile, dirty girl,” he mutters over you. “Wanted my dick in your mouth so bad, why didn’t you just ask me for it?” Steve bucks his hips, his hard cock bumping your cheek. “That lipgloss is gonna be smeared all over your face by the time I’m done with you,” he promises, like a delicious threat. “Now take it out and suck it.”

Steve reaches over and gives your ass a hard squeeze, massaging the fat and muscle in his palm. You wrap your fingers around his cock and work him out of his boxers. Steve’s size never fails to intimidate you, eight inches and thick, throbbing inside your hand. You lick a wide stripe along his shaft, which earns you a reprimand. “I said suck it,” Steve barks, tugging your hair just a little. He lands his big palm against your ass so hard tears spring to your eyes, then massages away some of the burn but not enough to make it better. A sticky line of precum clings to your tongue as you lift your head and work your way up Steve’s cock.

You part your lips and tug the head of him inside your mouth, gently sucking the tip, pulling another drop of precum from Steve’s slit. He curses over your head and grips your ass harder, as if bracing himself. You sink your head lower, taking Steve’s cock till your nose is pressed into the coarse hair of his bush. A low groan leaves his chest when he feels his tip hit the back of your throat. Clutching your hair in a gentle fist, Steve pulls his hips back then thrusts upward. He punches a thick gurgle from the back of your throat where he prods you. There’s a slightly sadistic pleasure Steve takes in hearing you choke on his cock, feeling your muscles constrict around him. Saliva floods your mouth as you struggle not to gag, seeping out between your lips and dripping down Steve’s balls. Your eyes are watering, mascara smeared around your eyes. “What’s that darlin?” Steve murmurs down at you. “Sounded like you were trying to say something.” He pulls back and thrusts into your throat again. You gag around Steve’s cock as his tip punches deeper. “Thought I told y’not to talk with your mouth full.”

He swats your ass hard, watching the fat deposited there jiggle at his assault. The veins along Steve’s cock throb against your tongue, adrenaline flooding his body. He strokes himself in and out of you, letting his hand travel down your ass to cup between your legs. You whimper around Steve’s cock as he plays with your pussy, gently massaging your slippery lips apart. He teases you like this a moment until he feels you getting close. You whine in protest when Steve pulls his hand from between your legs and brings his fingers to his lips, sucking your juices. He groans approvingly at your taste, throbbing inside your throat as the flavor of you sinks over his tastebuds.

“When we get to the hotel,” Steve murmurs in a sleepy, dazed voice. “I’m gonna spread you on the bed and eat you for hours…You’re gonna try to fight and wiggle away from me, but you’re not going anywhere…” Without warning, Steve plunges his fingers inside you, growling like something primal when you suck and squelch around him. “You’re gonna let me eat this pussy and stretch it out till I decide you’ve had enough, understand?” Tears of pleasure burn behind your eyes as Steve massages his fingers back and forth inside you. His breath is husky, his senses drunk on the smell of your pussy and the soft sucking sounds it makes for him as he fucks in and out of it. You tremble and twist on Steve’s hand, brows knit together against his lap as he curves his touch around your g-spot. Steve closes his eyes and lets his head drop back onto the headrest. His hand in your hair bobs up and down as you massage his cock in your throat, saliva spilling down your chin and making a puddle in Steve’s pubic hair.

He feels you getting close again, and decides to let you come. “That’s it baby,” Steve murmurs, his voice a low, seductive hum. “Squeeze my fingers nice and tight…wanna feel how hard you come for me when I’m using you like a glove.” You whimper into the hair at the base of Steve’s cock, tears spilling down your cheeks as your walls clench around his fingers. “Fuck honey,” Steve pants. “Look at how good my girl is…doing just what her Daddy says…” His lips are parted, breathy little sounds mixed with his words. “…Squeeze down on my fingers just like that…oh Christ I’m gonna-.”

Steve’s head drops forward then falls back against the headrest, his body stuttering as he pulses inside your throat. Cum gushes over your tongue in two thick bursts, pulled down your throat as you swallow. The tension in Steve’s cock relaxes slightly and after a moment, he pulls your mouth off of him. The semen that didn’t make it down your throat drains from your slack jaw and onto Steve’s thigh. He takes in the state of you, cheeks puffy and streaked with mascara, two bloodshot eyes fluttery and wet as you look up from his lap. Steve points a finger at the semen you drooled onto his thigh. “Clean it up,” he tells you, his voice a low, husky, demand. You return your face to Steve’s lap, flattening your tongue across the semen collected on his jeans, drawing his creamy release into your mouth. You hold out your tongue for Steve to see before swallowing. The semen soothes your ravaged throat like a balm. He pulls his fingers from inside you and returns them to his lips, sucking off the remainder of your taste.

Steve readjusts your relaxed, pliant body back in your seat, then reaches over and buckles your belt for you. You drowsily stretch your arms over your head and curl into your seat for a nap. Steve slides his softening cock back into his jeans and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before you drift off. He turns the key in the ignition and starts for the main road, glancing over at you every now and then while he drives. “Finally managed to get you quiet,” he smirks, then switches on the radio for something to listen to.