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sergeantbarnessdoll · 2 days ago

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Threesome with Sam and Bucky??? 🤭

When Confessions Become Reality » Sam Wilson/Falcon/Captain America and Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Sam Wilson x Female Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: What happens when you confess to your two guy friends, Sam and Bucky, that you’ve always wanted to have a threesome? They make it become reality.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, kissing, female receiving, fingering, blowjob, hair pulling, unprotected sex, threesome, praise kink, Bucky’s vibranium arm vibrates, pet names

A/N: Thank you for requesting @marvelobsessed134 🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

It all started one night when you, Sam, and Bucky were hanging out. You told them that you’ve always wanted to have a threesome. You don’t know why you said it. It just slipped out. It got Sam and Bucky to thinking. Friends help each other out, right? So they’re going to help your threesome confession become reality.

That’s what they’re doing today. They went to your house to hangout with you. Then one thing let to another and you three ended up in your bedroom, naked, and on your bed. Sam is in between your legs, eating you out and Bucky is behind you, playing with your breasts and kissed along your neck. Your mind is so clouded with lust that you couldn’t believe that this is actually happening. Sam was about to make your first orgasm come.

“You still with us, baby?” Sam asks.

You hummed and nodded. You squirmed against Bucky a little bit when Sam’s fingers fucked you a bit faster. Your jaw dropped and your eyes fluttered shut.

“You feeling good, doll?” Bucky asks softly in your ear.

“Yes! Oh god, yes!” You moaned.

Sam and Bucky exchanged looks, smirking at each other.

“Show her that setting on your arm.” Sam says to Bucky.

“What set- Holy shit!” You moaned loudly when Bucky put his vibranium fingers on your clit and it started vibrating.

You didn’t even know Bucky’s vibranium arm had a vibration setting. What you do know is that you like it.

“You like that, babydoll?” Bucky asks.

“Yes!” You moaned.

Bucky’s vibranium fingers vibrating against your clit and Sam’s fingers fucking you brought you even closer to coming any second. They could sense it.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” Sam asks.

“Mhmm.” You moaned, nodding your head.

“Cum for us, doll.” Bucky whispers in your ear.

Your eyes rolled back to the back of your head as you came, moaning their names loudly. They took their fingers away from your pussy and allowed you to catch your breath for a moment before doing anything else.

“You alright, baby?” Sam asks, rubbing his hands against your thighs.

“Yes.” You replied.

“Be a good girl and turn over.” He says.

Sam moved back just enough for you to turn over, getting on your hands and knees. You were face to face with Bucky’s hard cock while Sam positioned himself behind you. Sam rubbed his cock against your pussy, getting it wet with your slick before sliding in your pussy. Your jaw fell open and a soft moan left your lips.

As Sam started to fuck you, Bucky rubbed his thumb against your bottom lip. You parted your lips just enough for him to slide it in your mouth. You closed your lips around his thumb and swirled your tongue around it and sucked on it like you’re about to do with his cock in a few seconds. He strokes his cock with his free hand as you did so. He watches you intently. You softly moaned around his thumb before he slowly took it out of your mouth. You bit your bottom lip and grinned when he lined his cock at your lips, tapping his tip against your lips.

“Let’s put that pretty mouth to work, doll face.” Bucky says huskily.

You hummed in response. You wrapped your hand around his cock, replacing his hand. You stroked his cock while you kitten licked his tip. You then licked along the length of his cock, from the base to his tip.

“God damn…” Bucky moans softly.

You finally wrapped your lips around Bucky’s cock and started bobbing your head. Bucky gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail, holding it in his hand as you sucked his cock. Your eyes flickered up at him, making eye contact with him.

“Fuck…” Bucky moans.

“Does her mouth feel as amazing as we thought?” Sam curiously asks.

“It’s better than amazing. Her mouth feels incredible!” Bucky tells him. “You should feel it.” He adds.

“Oh, I will.” Sam smirks, his hand patting your ass. “Isn’t that right, baby?” He asks.

You hummed around Bucky’s cock in response. Sam sped up his thrusts. Bucky’s vibranium hand pushed your head down for you to take more of his cock, making you choke on his cock. You didn’t mind it one bit.

“I’ve never seen her be this good.” Sam points out.

“Me neither.” Bucky said. “Are you being a good girl for us, babydoll?” He asks.

You moaned when you got called a good girl. It’s pretty obvious that you have a praise kink.

“Oh, you like being praised, don’t you, baby?” Sam says.

You hummed around Bucky’s cock in response, making him moan.

“You’re our good girl, aren’t you, doll?” Bucky asks.

You tried your best to nod your head whilst sucking Bucky’s cock.

“Use your words. We want to hear it.” Sam says, patting your ass cheek.

You took Bucky’s cock out of your mouth momentarily to answer them.

“I’m a good girl for you guys.” You tell them, almost sounding innocent.

You couldn’t help but bit your bottom lip as you looked over your shoulder at Sam and then looked up at Bucky, your hand stroking Bucky’s cock. Bucky’s hand left your hair and gently grasped onto your jaw. He gently pulled you up towards him and kissed you. After pulling away from the kiss, he pushed your head back down to his cock. You began sucking him off again. Bucky’s hand found its place in your hair again.

You moaned around Bucky’s cock when you felt Sam’s cock hit that one spot inside of you. Sam smirks to himself, knowing that he found that one spot inside of you. Sam then brought one of his hands down to your clit and began rubbing it in a circular motion. You moaned around Bucky’s cock again and curled your toes at the feeling. Sam could tell you were getting close by the way your pussy was squeezing around his cock.

“You gonna cum for me, baby girl?” Sam asks.

You hummed around Bucky’s cock in response.

“Cum for him, doll face.” Bucky says.

Sam was fucking you at the most perfect pace and his fingers continued to rub your clit. Your orgasm built up fast. The coil in your stomach felt like it was about to snap. A guy has never made an orgasm build up this fast for you, not that you mind Sam doing that.

A loud and muffled moan left your lips as you came on Sam’s cock. Sam fucked you through your orgasm. He gave your clit one last rub before focusing on his own orgasm. You bobbed your head faster on Bucky’s cock to help his orgasm build up as well.

With the way you’re making both of them feel right now, they’re going to cum any second. You decided to take Bucky’s cock out of your mouth and lick along the veins of his cock. That made Bucky throw his head back in pleasure. You grinned to yourself and did it again before putting his cock back in your mouth.

Sam’s thrusts sped up the closer he got to coming. He’s right there and then he finally came inside of you. Bucky came in your mouth a few seconds later. You took his cock out of your mouth and swallowed his cum, sticking your tongue out to show him.

“Good girl.” Bucky praises breathlessly.

You smiled at the praise. Sam pulled out of you and laid down on the bed. You laid down in between your two guy friends, laying on your stomach.

“Did you enjoy yourself, baby?” Sam asks.

“Mmm, I did.” You hummed softly.

You leaned up and kissed Sam before getting on top of Bucky, straddling him. Your pussy was touching his cock, which was beginning to harden again.

“Can we do it again?” You asked, biting your bottom lip.

“Hell yes.” Sam and Bucky answered in unison.

You thought you’d be embarrassed for confessing that you’ve always wanted to have a threesome, but you’re not. Having a threesome with your two guy friends made it fun and comfortable for you.

❤️🩵❤️🩵❤️🩵❤️🩵❤️🩵❤️🩵❤️🩵❤️🩵❤️

-Bucky’s Doll

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astraljedi · 1 day ago

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Safe and Sound (Tommy Miller Imagine)

Summary: While out on patrol, Tommy follows a trail of blood, tracking an infected through the snow, but he gets distracted at the worst moment. A gunshot cracks the silence, and he flinches, bracing for pain. Instead, the infected drops with a bullet through its skull and standing in the distance, rifle aimed steady at him, is her.

Pairing: Tommy Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Violence, descriptions of blood loss, wounded characters, death of a parent/love one, grief, heavy themes of loss, some parts might be NSFW. 18+

Word Count: 7.5k

Song: Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift Feat. The Civil Wars

a/n: This is a long one and I don't regret it. This is my first Tommy Miller fic and I already have part 2 plotted and ready to write at any moment. So if you like to leave some feedback, I would appreciate very much it. Enjoy! -

You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound

“Good morning,” I mumble to my dad, who’s just finishing his small breakfast before getting some sleep after his night watch ended. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but the sky is a pretty soft gray-blue. The chickens in the coop are starting to rustle and cluck, and in a few minutes they’ll be screaming for their breakfast like they’re royalty.

“In a few weeks I’m going to meet with Gunnar for a trade,” he reminds me. My father, Robert, usually meets with an old veteran friend of his to swap goods. We give him cured deer meat, fresh eggs—or if a rooster’s being too much of a bastard, he loses his head and becomes a gift. But lately, I haven’t had much luck tracking deer. There’s still some meat stored in the cabinet, but winter’s about to slam in hard, and we need to stock up while we can. Just in case. Always just in case.

When you go through an outbreak, there’s no way you can't be too prepared.

“I’m gonna see if I can hunt some deer. Check the rabbit traps too.” I grab the chicken feed from one of the cabinets and slide my boots on. My rifle comes off the wall in one smooth motion, and I sling it over my shoulder along with a small bag of supplies. “Get some rest.” I lean down, kiss his cheek, and step out into the cold morning.

The chickens lose their minds the second I open the little gate that keeps them penned in at night. I scatter feed across the frozen dirt and let them roam free. It’s been seventeen years since my mom passed, and eighteen since the outbreak. Feels like I’ve lived a hundred lives since then.

Back in the summer of 2003, I’d just graduated college. Preschool teacher by day, bartender by night, all to scrape up enough to help with my mom’s medical bills. My dad worked as a security guard and collected his veteran benefits, but it was never enough. People used to call him a lunatic for prepping, always whispering behind his back like he was crazy.

But he wasn’t. Not even close.

He spent years fixing up this old hunting cabin my grandpa left behind—tall wire fence, secured doors, a basement-turned-bunker filled with canned goods, weapons, and a cot we could sleep on if we had to go into lockdown. Bolted from the inside. If the world went to hell, we could stay down there for months if needed. He made sure of it.

I remember the night it all started. I was clocking in at the bar, and something just felt off. The place was packed but tense. Fights broke out, people acting like they’d lost their minds. Sirens blared and helicopters roared low in the sky. While the streets was crowded by military trucks, dragging people off the street. Then I heard the screech of tires—my dad’s truck flying around the corner.

“We need to go.”

“What’s going on?” I asked, and he didn’t answer. Just shoved a rifle into my hands and started driving.

“You feeling sick? Any fever? Twitching?” He kept flicking his eyes between me and the road, barely able to hide the panic.

“No,” I said, confused. “You?”

“Don’t talk to the neighbors. Grab what you need and we’re out of the house in ten minutes.”

I packed fast—my mom’s heart-shaped gold necklace, her ashes. A backpack of important files, IDs. Our family photo album, her winter jacket. A duffel bag of clothes, soap, anything else Dad had told me to keep ready “just in case.”

“I’m done.” I came running down the stairs—and froze.

Dad was outside. And he’d just shot our neighbor.

The man was crawling, dragging himself across the pavement in this twitchy, jerky way I’d never seen before. Not human at all. My dad didn’t even flinch. He raised the gun and shot him again—this time in the head.

That was the first time I saw one. Not the last. And it never got easier. We stayed hidden, just the two of us, carving out a life in isolation deep in the woods.

Dad always took the night shifts. Raiders came and went. But he made sure they didn’t stay. He scared off more people than I could count. Then Gunnar came along—a familiar face from the old veteran center. Somehow, my dad still trusted him. Said Gunnar was the only man besides himself he’d bet his life on.

Gunnar taught me how to set rabbit traps a few years back. Deer were reliable, but you couldn’t count on anything forever. Not anymore.

After feeding the chickens, I scan the area. Fence is fine. Snow’s undisturbed—no footprints, no blood. Everything looks calm. I unlock the gate and step out into the woods.

Hunting alone doesn’t scare me like it used to. I like the silence. I love my dad, but it’s the only time I get to breathe. The cabin’s small, one bedroom, and though we technically share a bed, he mostly sleeps in his recliner. Still, during those long winter storms, the walls start to close in.

I know these woods. They know me. I head straight for my traps, and from the three traps, only two have rabbits in them. I grab them by the ears and tie them around my waist with a string. Skinning is my dad’s job. Always has been. I’ll shoot, I’ll trap—I won’t gut.

I reset the traps on another trail, trying to guess where the next rabbits might be hiding. The woods are too quiet now. Most people would find that peaceful, but not me. I know better.

The infected are bad, sure—but people? People can be worse, especially after all these years. And being a woman, alone out here? It makes you a target.

The quiet shifts. The air gets thick and the birds stop chirping above.

Something’s wrong.

I slip behind a tree, crouching low to the snowy ground. My fingers find the rifle’s grip without thinking.

Close by, a horse snorts unsettled but a man’s voice hushes it. I press my back against the trunk and slowly peer around it.

He’s heading toward the trail that leads straight to the cabin. I follow the noise, heart beating faster, boots crunching soft over snow. I drop low behind a thick, fallen trunk for cover.

That’s when I caught a better look at this man.

He’s got a rifle on his back and both hands on the reins of a light colored gelding. “Whoa,” he murmurs, trying to calm the animal as it inches closer to our fence.

I glance at the snow. Only one set of prints besides mine. And a long, red drag line.

Blood.

My eyes snap up and spot it—a lone infected, creeping toward the man and his horse. Silently, tracking him.

I move fast, ducking behind trees, avoiding every dry branch. The moment it’s within five feet of him, I raise my rifle and fire. The gunshot cuts through the woods like a thundercrack and birds fly away from their place in the trees.

The horse panics, rearing back with a scream. The man grabs the reins and fights to settle it.

I step out, rifle still raised and aimed straight at him. “You need to leave. Now.” My voice doesn’t shake.

He stares, eyes wide—more stunned by the infected’s corpse than the barrel I’ve got pointed at him. Blood pools under the body, staining the snow black.

He doesn't move. Doesn’t reach for his gun. He just watches me, like he's not sure what he’s seeing.

“What?” I snap. “Never seen a woman before?”

“I’m not here to cause any harm,” he says, slow and calm, like he doesn’t want to spook me. “I was tracking the infected through the woods and lost sight of it.”

“You didn’t lose it, they’re not dumb. That thing led you here and it was tracking you.”

He swallows and nods, like maybe he knows I’m right. “Look, I’m from a town not far from here—Jackson. I’m Tommy.” He gestures vaguely toward the hills. “You don’t have to be out here alone. Jackson’s got decent people, good food, security. It’s safe.”

The cabin door bursts open. My dad steps out, rifle ready, expression cold and dangerous. “She isn’t alone.”

His gray hair’s a mess—he must’ve just rolled out of the recliner—but his voice is stirn and direct. He clicks his rifle, as a warning.

Tommy straightens. “Alright. I’m goin’.” He tugs on the reins. His horse resists, but he guides it back the way they came. He glances over his shoulder once, then twice. Still watching me, even as he disappears through the trees.

I wait until he’s fully gone before I unlock the gate.

“You hurt?” my dad asks when I get close, scanning me top to bottom for scratches, blood, anything.

“I’m fine.” My eyes flick back toward the woods, toward the infected’s body too close to the fence.

He mutters, “Should’ve shot him.”

“If I did, his little town would come looking,” I say, brushing past him. The cabin’s warm inside, fire still crackling low. I hang my rifle up on its hook and kick off my boots.

I set the rabbits on the table. “Your turn.”

“That’s the first infected we’ve seen in a while.” He says, grabbing the rabbits.

“Yeah,” I mutter. “It was hunting him. Probably lured him down the steep trail.”

I grab a match and the old oil can from beneath the sink.

“I’m gonna burn it before it draws more.”

A couple of days have passed since the Tommy and infected scene happened. I’m outside in the chicken coop grabbing some eggs when I hear horse hooves smashing against the snow. I peek through the small gap of the coop and—it’s him. Again.

I have my rifle by the chicken coop door, but I don’t reach for it. I don’t feel a sense of danger from him. He trots up to the gate and slips off his horse smoothly, unties a cloth bag from the side of his saddle, and places it on the ground by the gate.

I stay in cover, but he lingers, watching the door like he’s half-expecting my dad to aim a gun at him again. I stifle a laugh, remembering how scared he looked that day when he saw my dad—hair all messy, clothes wrinkled and another gun being pointed at him.

Thankfully, he doesn’t hear me. He hops back onto his horse and disappears into the woods, the same trail he took last time, but I don’t move. My rooster sings loudly on my right and I wince from the sharp, high-pitched sound.

“Frederick, really? In my ear?” I glare at him and shoo him away.

I step out from the coop, sling my rifle over my back, and open the gate just enough to grab the bag.

If it were from a stranger—which technically, Tommy is—I would’ve tossed it or let the chickens peck through it. But my gut trusts him. He seemed genuine last time and he didn’t overstep once. Tommy could’ve easily run me over with that horse, but he didn’t.

In the kitchen, I open the bag and the smell of freshly baked bread hits me. I groan, the warm scent tugging me back to a time that’s long gone. It’s been years since I’ve had bread like this. There’s also two jars of jam—one red, one a light yellow. A few medicine bottles and even menstrual products. I blink, caught off guard, cheeks warming up. It’s not taboo, but it feels weird, someone who’s not my dad thinking of that.

“Why do I smell bread?” my father huffs, groaning as he pushes himself up from the recliner.

“Tommy brought a bag of goods.” I gesture toward it.

“That boy again? Did he bother you?” He reaches for the bread and I smack his hand away.

“Hey, I’m hungry!”

“Sit at the table then. I’m gonna cut this loaf like it deserves to be treated, old man.” I laugh and grab a knife, slicing into the warm bread. How did it stay warm all this way? Maybe he picked it up right before heading out.

I spread jam on a few slices and put them on a plate. “Here. Now we can eat like civilized human beings.”

I grab a piece and bring it to my nose, closing my eyes as the sweet strawberry scent fills my senses. I take a bite and it’s even better than I imagined.

The following weeks, he keeps showing up—once a week, always on Tuesdays. I start waking up earlier on those days, and I finish all my chores before noon. I wait near the trail—his trail. The only one he knows, but I’m not about to tell him there’s a quicker one.

Not yet.

I sit against a tree, ears perked as I snack on dried plums from last week’s bag. When I hear singing and familiar hooves crunching through the snow, I smirk and prepare myself.

When he’s close, I spook him and his horse.

The poor thing rears back and Tommy slips off the saddle, falling straight into the snow. Luckily, I’m out of range and the horse doesn’t bolt—Jackson must train their horses well.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tommy snaps, still sitting in the snow, his beanie half-buried.

I’m breathless from laughing, struggling to stay upright.

“Oh, god.” I can’t stop laughing. I grab the reins and feed his horse a dried plum, scratching his neck as he melts into my touch.

“This what I get for bringing supplies?” Tommy grumbles, brushing snow off himself as he pulls the beanie back on.

“Glad to know Jackson trains their horses not to run off,” I say, kissing the horse’s nose. We used to have one, years ago. It was good for travel when Dad made trades, but it got too hard to care for, so he traded it for warmer jackets.

“You should tell them to train their patrol better. They get spooked too easy,” I tease. “Are you hurt?”

“Just my ego,” he mutters.

“Good,” I say, handing him the reins. “We don’t need your supplies. You can stop coming by.”

“You say that, but weren’t you just eating the plums I brought?” He smirks.

“Well yeah, I’m not gonna waste ‘em. Don’t know if you noticed, but we’re living in an apocalypse.” I turn on my heel. “Don’t follow me back. Go home.”

I make it a few feet and glance over my shoulder. He’s on his horse, still not moving. I roll my eyes and keep walking on the trail. Once I’m back inside the cabin and shaking off snow from my boots, I hear the hooves again.

I peek out the window and there he is, placing the damn bag at the gate.

He just doesn’t give up.

The next week, he doesn’t show. Tuesday passes—no hooves, no singing, no bag.

Then Wednesday. Still nothing.

He gave up. And I hate to admit it, but… I’m a little disappointed. The week after that is the same.

I come home from hunting with only a rabbit tied to my belt and no deer.

“Guess the boy finally gave up,” my dad says, waiting for me on the porch while holding a warm cup of tea. Tea from Tommy’s bag.

“Disappointed you won’t get more tea?” I tease.

“Not as disappointed as you, when you realize he’s not coming,” he says, poking my side before walking back inside.

I glare at him, but—he might be a little right.

It takes me a few more weeks, but I finally track a deer and it's a big one. It’s gonna be hell to carry, but this is gold.

I get into position—rifle resting on a fallen trunk—and wait. Its ears twitch, and I freeze, listening for whatever it hears.

Nothing. I hold my breath, wait for its head to lower again and when it does, I take the shot.

The deer drops onto the snow, a clean shot.

I jump over the trunk, adrenaline rushing, but my boots slip on a patch of snow and I fall—hard and my palm lands right on a sharp rock while I try to grasp something.

“Shit!” I curse. I clench my bleeding hand, trying not to cry out. But blood's already oozing fast.

I sling off my pack and dig for anything to wrap my hand with. I end up grabbing an old cloth from one of Tommy’s bags, dumping out its contents to use it.

But trying to wrap it one-handed is useless with my shaking hands. I glance back at the deer—I can’t leave it. Not after everything.

“This is so stupid,” I mutter, trying again.

“You need help?” I scream and drop the cloth.

Tommy.

He’s already walking toward me, eyes scanning the deer and then at me.

“Is this karma for scaring you weeks ago?” I sigh, my heart still racing.

He tries to hold back a smile, but when he sees my hand, it fades. “You’re hurt.”

He picks up the cloth and steps closer. And I don’t stop him.

“What happened?”

“I celebrated early and ate shit,” I mutter, nodding toward the deer. “It’s the biggest one I’ve gotten in weeks.”

He finishes wrapping my hand, then helps me up and I grip his bicep for balance.

“I’m not leaving it,” I say, heading for the deer.

He grabs my arm gently. “Let me. You just grab your stuff.”

He lifts the deer like it’s nothing and slings it onto his horse. I open my mouth to protest, but my vision goes blurry for a second and I stumble.

“Hey,” he says quickly, “hold on to Pearl’s lead.”

We’re not far from the cabin, but it feels like miles with how hard my head is pounding. I glance back once and find him staring at me. I look away, which makes the dizziness worse and I trip again. But he doesn’t let me fall, his hand catches my waist.

Even through the thick layers of clothing, heat shoots through me.

I mumble a thanks and keep moving, not daring to look back at him.

When we reach the cabin, Dad is already on the porch, sipping his tea, smirking behind the cup. He’s not going to let me live this down, ever.

He steps down the porch steps and holds the gate open while I led Pearl in. Tommy hesitates and stays behind the fence, but I nod him forward. He nods at my dad and steps in.

“What’s happened? Dad asks.

“She’s hurt,” Tommy says quietly, pointing at my wrapped hand.

Dad glances at my hand, then the deer. “Get her stitched up,” he orders like he used to in the army. “I’ll handle the deer.”

“Yes, sir,” Tommy replies and helps me inside. I kick off my boots, shrug off my thick jacket, and toss it on the hook.

“You can leave your coat here,” I tell him, reaching up for the first aid kit. “Normally I’d do this myself, but I trust you more than Dad. He’s terrible at stitching.”

I set the kit on the table and sit. Tommy joins me not a second later and opens the kit.

“Did you hit your head?”

“No. Blood just makes me dizzy.” I confess, watching him look through the kit. Then he unties the cloth on my hand and sprays the wound without warning.

I wince and grip my knee with my good hand. “You didn’t warn me, asshole!”

“Wouldn’t matter. You’d whine either way.” He laughs quietly. “Do you have liquor? This is gonna hurt.”

I shake my head. “This is my karma. Just do it.”

It does hurt. Worse than when I sprained my wrist skating as a kid. But I stay conscious through it and after.

When he finishes, I watch his large hands pack everything back in the kit. I shift a little in my seat. God, this is the first attractive man I’ve seen in ages and I can barely function.

He pulls on his jacket and I grab a cloth bag, packing it with cured deer and rabbit meat.

“Thanks,” I say, walking him out to the gate. I hold the bag out and he ties it to Pearl’s saddle.

Tommy smiles before climbing up to Pearl’s back.

“Go, before it gets too dark out.”

“I can handle myself, sweetheart,” he says, cocky.

“You sure? Last time I had to shoot an infected because you got distracted,” I tease.

“Now we’re even.” He nods at my bandaged hand. I roll my eyes and chuckle. I stay by the gate, watching him disappear through the trees. At some point, I have to teach him the shorter trail, for his safety.

In the eighteen years I’ve lived after the outbreak, this is the most I’ve laughed and blushed. Last week it was warmer than usual, but now the cold came back worse, the kind that makes your bones shake uncontrollably. It doesn’t feel that bad, though, not with all the blushing and Tommy’s body close to mine, not when he keeps looking at me like that.

He’s helping me clean out the chicken coop, while my dad is out checking the rabbit traps, something he volunteered to do himself. “Frederick, stop!” I shoo the small, quirky rooster off while he keeps running around singing his heart out.

“You named your rooster Frederick?” Tommy laughs.

“Yes, and as you can see, he isn’t exactly the quiet type when he’s loose.”

We both laugh, watching the rooster peck on the snow. There's a moment of silence but with him, it isn’t awkward.

“Can I ask you something?” he says, and I nod, crouching down to check the hens’ nests for eggs.

“What’d you do... before all this?”

I sigh, heavy in the chest. “I was a preschool teacher,” I murmur.

Just saying it makes my heart clench, thinking about the kids in my class and where they ended up. “Graduated with an education degree. Worked at a school during the day... bartender at night.”

Tommy looks genuinely surprised. “You? Teaching little kids?” He raises a brow like he can’t picture it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I grab the basket of eggs from the floor and shut the chicken coop door behind me. “You don’t think I’m capable of handling little kids?” I throw over my shoulder as we head toward the porch.

“I think you’d scare ‘em straight, is what I think.”

I shove his shoulder gently but I’m laughing now, that quiet, warm kind of laugh I didn’t even know I missed. I sit down on one of the steps and he drops down next to me, close enough that I can feel the heat off him even through the cold.

“I was a fun teacher,” I tell him, nudging his knee with mine. “The kids loved me. I always ended up with painted handprints all over my favorite overalls.”

Tommy grins, like he’s imagining it.

“What about you?” I ask, tilting my head.

“I was in the army for a while. Then I started working construction with my older brother.”

I blink at him, stunned. “Wait, you have a brother?”

He nods, his gaze dropping. “Yeah. I don’t even know if he’s still out there.” His voice gets quieter. “And I also had a niece— Sarah. She was thirteen. Died the night it all started.”

My heart twists and aches. Without thinking, I reach out, resting my small hand over his, and then the other finds its way to the back of his neck, curling into his hair.

“I’m sorry, Tommy,” I whisper. “Were you close?”

He nods again. “We used to tease each other a lot. Joel would always come between us, telling us to behave,” he says, and even though he’s smiling, I can see the sadness underneath it, the way he squeezes my hand like he needs to hold on to something or he’ll drift somewhere dangerous.

“I lost my mom to cancer a year before the outbreak,” I confess, letting the words fall out because somehow, with him I want to let my walls down. “That’s why I worked nights at a bar. I had to pull my weight with the bills since my dad’s veteran benefits and his security job weren’t enough.”

“I’m sorry, darlin’.” Tommy shifts closer and presses a kiss to my temple.

“You know...” I tug playfully at one of his curls, trying to lighten the mood again. “You could use a trim. It looks like you live in the woods.”

He chuckles low in his chest. “Darlin’, we live in the woods.”

“You know mom was a hairstylist and she taught me everything. I could give you a cut if you want,” I offer, twirling a curl around my finger.

Tommy gives me a skeptical look. “You promise you won’t leave me bald?”

I laugh and shove him lightly. “I’m offended you would even think that.”

He grabs my wrist gently, pulling me closer, his eyes sparkling with something I can’t quite name. “Forgive me, sweetheart.”

“I’ll think about it.” I grin. “Dad’s gonna meet up with Gunnar in a couple days. Maybe you can come by.”

“I don’t know if your dad would appreciate me being here while he’s gone,” he teases, but I feel a little resistance in his voice.

“He isn’t here now,” I whisper, a little closer to him than before, close enough to feel his breath on my lips. “Why haven’t you kissed me?”

“Because I’m a gentleman,” Tommy says hoarsely, his hand sliding up to the back of my neck, holding me steady. A whimper slips out of me, but he shuts me up the only way he can— with his mouth on mine.

I close my eyes as he leans into me, savoring every second. The tip of his tongue brushes my lips and when he tugs my hair a little. I moan at the feeling and I part my lips, letting him in.

It’s not my first kiss, but it’s my first kiss in years, and it wrecks me. I can feel the heat spreading under my skin, the way our bodies slot together needing to be close, how desperate and right it feels. When we pull away, breathless, I can't resist being away— I dive right back in, capturing his lips again, my hand threading through his curls.

This time, he moans.

"God," I gasp when I finally break away, dizzy and breathless. “I haven’t been kissed like that in years,”

“One hell of a kiss,” Tommy says, his voice rough, and I’m blushing so hard I have to look away. He grabs me by the chin and pulls me to another kiss, this one sweeter, slower. He gives me a few playful pecks on my lips and it has me giggling.

The trading trip takes a day to get there and a day to get back. It’s not the first time I’ve been left alone, but it’s the first time someone’s here with me, someone who isn’t my dad.

Tommy shows up a little after my dad’s gone, and it feels strange— strange in a good way, something new and dizzying. Like a teenager sneaking her boyfriend in while her parents are away. And the butterflies have been eating me alive for days.

“Are there any boyfriends I should be worried about?” he asks, his voice low against my ear, his bare chest pressed against my back as we sit by the fire.

After I cut his hair, things got... heated and we got distracted discovering new places to leave hot kisses.

Our clothes got lost somewhere— his shirt, his jeans, mine too— and now there’s just a blanket pulled over us, both of us sitting on the old rug with a plate of bread half-forgotten beside us. I grab a piece and feed it to him.

“Never had one,” I say, popping another piece into my mouth.

“What?” he says, sitting up straighter.

“I had a fling senior year of college but he was a little shit and the sex wasn’t great,” I say, laughing a little at the memory now.

“My apologies on behalf of the male species, we’re not all bad,” Tommy says, his hand sliding up to my breast, his mouth finding the sweet spot on my neck, slow and teasing. I lean my head back against him, giving him all the space he wants.

“Come with me to Jackson,” he murmurs against my skin, his lips warm against my pulse.

I close my eyes, drunk on the feeling of him, the way he bites down just enough to make me gasp that I almost miss what he says.

He keeps talking, whispering against my skin. “There’s a lot of veterans there. Your dad would have people to bond with and I’d have you closer. Somewhere I know you’ll be safe.”

I freeze and stiffen up. I pull my body away, staring into the fire like it’s going to give me some clarity or save me from this conversation.

Tommy moves with me, not pushing, just leaning in close enough that I feel him, his hand gentle on my shoulder. The idea of leaving the only safe place I’ve ever known... it sits heavy in my gut. And I know Robert, he’s not going to pack up this cabin and leave with me, he doesn’t trust many people and isolation has worked for us for years.

“I am safe,” I whisper, still staring at the fire.

“I know you are,” he says softly, “but I’ll sleep better knowing you’re not an hour horse ride away. We just finished fixing up a house. You and your dad could have your own space and he could have a community. You could have a life with me.”

He doesn’t pull me back to him, just presses kisses to my bare shoulder, soft and patient, trying to kiss away the fear unpacking itself inside me.

“The only way that old man is leaving,” I sigh, “is when he’s dead.”

I get up, grabbing the empty plate, feeling the cold bite at my bare legs and arms. Even though the fire's still crackling, I shiver, missing the heat of him, the feel of lips and his skin against mine.

I’m still barefoot, in nothing but my bra and underwear, standing at the sink when I feel him behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist.

“I’m not rushing you,” he says, voice low. “Just throwing the idea out there.”

I nod, tilt my head back against his shoulder, and he catches my chin, tilts it toward him, presses a kiss to my lips—not desperate— but understanding. A kiss that says I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.

“Come on,” he murmurs, breaking away. “Let’s get you back under the blanket, get you warm.”

He leads me back to our little nest by the fire and somehow, without even realizing it, I fall asleep on his chest, his hands holding me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear, like if he lets go even for a second, I’ll vanish right out of his arms.

The weather around here is unpredictable.

But the moment I feel the temperature shift, I know there’s a blizzard closing in on us. Dad gets home just in time, only an hour after Tommy had to leave, but he’s struggling to keep his footing. I search him for scratches, bite marks—anything—but I don’t see any.

Since he walked through that door, he hasn’t stopped sweating, coughing, and shivering. And when I try to give him some of the medicine Tommy brought over the first couple times after we met, Dad can’t keep it down.

It’s not the first time he’s gotten sick, but this is the first time we can’t get help if we need it. The blizzard’s howling like crazy outside and it's shaking the walls like it wants to tear it down. I’ve got the hens and Frederick inside, huddled close to the fire in cages, and I’m kneeling by the fire too, heating up some bone broth, praying I can get something into my dad’s stomach.

Even Frederick is quiet in his cage. Something is definitely wrong.

I leave the hot pot on the kitchen counter and look out the window. I can barely make out anything through the snow, but my heart kicks into a sprint when I see three shadowy figures moving across the property.

Shit. The gate.

I was so distracted, worrying, that I didn’t even hear them rip it open. I grab my rifle from the wall and sprint to the back room. “Dad,” I rush to his side, trying to lift him. “We gotta go. Now.”

I try to drag him out of bed, his arm slung heavy around my shoulders, but he’s too weak, dead weight. He groans, delirious. I don’t even think he knows he’s back at the cabin.

The floorboards creak under heavy boots on the porch as I rip the bunker door open. “Get in. Lock it behind you. I’ll be back.”

I step into the hallway and wait for them while the hens are losing their minds from the banging on the front door. I raise my rifle, grip steady even though my insides are shaking with adrenaline, and the moment the door bursts open—I fire.

The first intruder drops hard on the porch, a single bullet between his eyes.

The second one, a man built like a goddamn wall, charges forward and he’s faster than I thought. I squeeze the trigger again—the bullet slams into his shoulder, but it barely slows him down.

I smash the butt of my rifle against him when he gets close enough and he stumbles. I kick him in the stomach, but he barrels into me, tackling me to the floor. The air punches out of my lungs but I try to claw for my fallen rifle, fingertips brushing the wood—

“Pretty little thing,” he growls, pinning my wrist down.

I twist beneath him, get my knee into his ribs, but he’s too heavy. His hand finds my ankle, yanking hard—and I scream as pain shoots up my leg, hot and sharp.

The third one strolls in like he owns the place, grinning. He must be the leader. “Look what we got here.” He kicks my rifle even farther out of reach. “We’re gonna have some fun with you, but it’s his turn first.”

He sneers before disappearing into the living room, going through our home like he hit treasure. The blood drains from my face but I lunge for the only weapon I can reach—a small handgun strapped to the man’s waist. My hands are quick, desperate, unbuckling it without him noticing.

I’m desperate to get the upper hand, I need to do something and save my father.

The safety is off and I press the barrel into his side, pulling the trigger. He roars in pain, loosening his grip, and I shove the gun against his forehead and fire again. His limp body collapses onto me and I throw him off, gasping for air.

“You wanna play? Let’s play,” the last man snarls, bolting from the living room with a knife in his hand.

I fire at him and nothing comes out from the handgun.

Fuck.

I scramble for my rifle, but he slashes out with his knife, ripping the skin along my arm. I stumble, my ankle screaming in agony. He grabs me by the hair, yanking me across the porch and throwing me onto the snow, my blood staining it a deep red.

I try to get up, but my ankle gives out. I’m weaponless, hurting, trapped and the icy wind is no use either.

“Let me hear you scream,” he laughs, pressing his boot down hard on my bad ankle and I bite my lip until I taste blood, refusing to give him the satisfaction. If I’m going to die, I’m not going down easy.

I always said the infected were bad—but people were worse. This is what I meant.

My fingers dig into the snow, scrambling for anything, fighting back the tears while his boot pressed harder.

“Scream, you little bit—”

BANG.

He jerks violently, eyes wide in shock before he collapses on top of me. I wheeze, struggling to push his dead weight off, chest heaving.

“Dad?” I whisper, dazed. He’s at the doorway, barely standing, rifle clutched in his hands while blood drips from his lips. Then he collapses to his knees and the rifle falls down to his side.

“No, no—” I limp toward him, dragging his half-frozen body back inside, down into the basement. The main door to the cabin is gone, there’s no use trying to fix it. The only thing I can do now is get us into the bunker and lock ourselves in before the storm swallows us whole or even more danger creeps up on us.

Right now, the cold doesn’t matter. Nothing does but keeping him alive a little longer.

The green military cot in the bunker is too small for him. I kneel beside it, clutching his hand against my forehead. His skin is freezing, his face draining of color.

Who do I pray to? God? Who’s left to listen now?

I fight the sob clawing up my throat, but when our eyes meet, it shatters me. I choke on a broken sound.

“Go with him,” Dad rasps, voice barely there.

“What?”

“Tommy.” His breath rattles with each word. “Go with Tommy” He coughs, like his body is giving out one word at a time.

“Stop.” I try to beg him to save his energy but he won’t listen to me.

“Don’t tell him I said this or I’ll haunt you in your sleep, but�� he’s a good man.”

“No—" I press my forehead to his, shaking. "Please, stay. Please."

He cups my cheek with a trembling hand, and I lean into his cold familiar touch. “He looks at you the way I looked at your mother," he says, voice cracking. "Let him keep you safe.”

“Daddy,” I cry, the word ripping out of me in terror. This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“I love you,” he breathes. “Don’t let me hold you back from something good. Promise me.”

“I promise.” I press frantic kisses to his knuckles, to his forehead, trying to memorize him, trying to hold on.

I don’t fall asleep—not even after I feel his life slip away in my arms. I scream, the sound ripping from somewhere deep inside, raw and feral and grief mixed together.

I don’t know how long I stayed like that, clutching his hand in the poorly dim room. I don’t know how long it took before my eyes betrayed me, before exhaustion dragged me under, even as the blizzard screamed outside.

It takes Tommy two days to get to the cabin.Two days of me being locked in the bunker with my father, life already drained from his body.

The storm outside has calmed down a little, but it still has its moments of roaring back. Even so, I don’t dare leave the bunker. I threw a blanket over my dad, laid my back against the bolted door, and just stayed there, frozen, trying not to think, trying not to feel.

My ears perk up at the sound of my name being called. At first I think it’s my mind playing games, like it has been for hours, until I hear heavy boots across the floor upstairs.

Tommy’s voice, shouting for me in panic.

I push myself up, putting all my body weight onto my good leg, fumbling with the bunker door until I finally get it open. My rifle slung over my shoulder, I limp through the hallway, heart in my throat, following the sound of him.

He’s outside now, digging up a body buried in the snow, his voice cracking from the cold and fear. “Please, please,” I hear him beg, his lips trembling. He thinks it’s me.

I make it to the porch and my voice cracks too. “Tommy.”

His head whips toward me the same second he realizes it’s not me lying there, that it’s one of the raiders. Relief floods his face and he tosses the body back into the snow without a second glance, running toward me with his eyes full of tears.

The sight of the cabin was a nightmare.The gate was ripped open, the wooden cabin door was on the ground and there’s blood frozen into the wood, smeared across the porch. But Tommy doesn’t look at any of it. His eyes stay locked on mine, wide and glassy.

I drop the rifle and fall into his arms. I don’t care that my ankle screams in protest, or that my stomach aches from days without food, or that my arm starts bleeding again.

None of it matters the moment his arms close around me.

I don’t try to hold it in anymore. I break down, sobbing into his chest. “Jesus—hey, hey, I got you,” he murmurs, voice thick, one hand cradling the back of my head. “I got you.”

“He’s gone.” Tommy understands right away. His body tightens around mine like he’s trying to shield me from anymore danger.

Tommy patches the door the best he can. It’s not perfect, not meant to hold for long, just enough to close off the cabin while he gets me to Jackson to see a medic.

I pack a duffel bag with the only things that matter: my mother’s gold necklace, my father’s pocket knife, a picture of the three of us when I was small, a change of clothes to last until we can come back for the rest—and for my father’s body.

Tommy wraps his arms around me and helps me onto Pearl. He ties my bag to the saddle, then mounts behind me, taking the reins in one hand while keeping the other tight around my waist.

Even though Tommy has described Jackson to me a hundred times, seeing it for the first time feels unreal, like this shouldn’t be possible after what we went through. The gates are huge, guarded, the town tucked safely inside.

He waves a colored flag to the guard on top of the wall and the gate creaks open. I keep my head low, feeling small under the weight of everyone’s stares.

Did Tommy tell them about me? About us?

“It’s not up for discussion, darlin’,” he mutters against my ear as he helps me down from the saddle. All I wanted to do is hide away in a dark room, try to push away this nightmare. But Tommy insisted I get my wounds and ankle checked at the clinic before he took me to his home.

“I need to make sure you're okay.”

I just nod, too exhausted to argue even if I wanted to. I let him guide me into a small clinic in town.

The room is small, the smell of antiseptic and cold metal lingering in the air. Tommy stays close enough that I can feel his body heat, grounding me and pulling me back to reality. He’s not suffocating me—he’s keeping me standing. My lungs, my heart, everything leaning on him.

Don’t let me hold you back from something good.

“You must be the woman Tommy’s been talking about,” the medic says, walking in with a gentle smile and pulling me back to reality. She’s older, her hair completely silver, wrinkles crinkling around kind eyes. She jokes, but neither Tommy nor I laugh.

I barely listen as they talk quietly. I sit there, numb, while the medic cleans the gash on my arm and wraps it tight. Then she checks my ankle, twisting it gently until I wince and clutch Tommy’s sleeve with a gasp.

“All right, that’s enough,” Tommy snaps before the medic can push more. His voice came out protective while he held my hand.

Thankfully, my ankle isn’t broken—just badly sprained.

The medic finishes wrapping it, promising she’ll bring crutches to Tommy’s place when she finds them. “If she needs anything, even if it’s late, knock on my door,” she whispers to him, but I hear it anyway. She pats his shoulder before leaving the room, giving us space.

“Tommy—” I start to protest when he scoops me up without warning, one arm under my knees, the other around my back.

“Don’t,” he says, his voice cracking a little as he presses a kiss to my forehead. “I spent the whole storm thinking the worst. Let me do this.”

I don't argue, I don’t have any more energy. I just bury my face against his chest, letting him carry me.

“I got you,” he whispers, breath trembling against my hair. “I’m not letting you go.”

He carries me out of the clinic, across the frozen ground of Jackson, back to a place he calls home.

Home. Tommy is home.

#Tommy Miller Imagines #Tommy Miller x reader #Tommy Miller Fanfiction #Tommy Miller Fic #Tommy Miller x you #Tommy Miller #The Last of Us Imagines #tlou fanfiction #tommy miller fanfic #tommy miller imagine #the last of us #the last of us fic #tlou imagine

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iloveyanderes · 18 hours ago

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Got an idea, it’s been plaguing my mind for weeks now. Know genshin cult au? Well take the sagau out of it and add in honkai star rail!

Cult au with the Aeon’s and their darlings. The followers of the different aeons are the cult members. Some cults have one darling while others having multiple. The only thing completely the same being the fact that the Aeons are the one’s choosing the darlings(only being chosen by their followers if they of course physically cannot like Idrila or Akivili)

Right now I'm gonna only do the aeon’s that I’m familiar with and also smut warning but it probably won’t be accurate as I am asexual and never actually had sex before. Also this will technically be non-con as its a cult and very heavy themes of yandere with violence genocide having your loved ones be killed right in front of you,forced worship, gaslighting, manipulation, and a messed up viewpoint of ‘taking care of someone’ so please don’t read if your not comfortable with this.

Minors DNI

First I’d have to start with akivili themselves. It might be a little bit disappointing to you but they would be the least concerning of all the possible cults. The trailblazers quite literally are travelers so they’re darling is not trapped, akivili likely only had one darling who he adventures with and that's the only darling the nameless have. The real only yandere part of this is the fact that the nameless are all overprotective. Akivili had been overprotective but still wouldn’t do anything as they loved the trailblaze, when they mysteriously vanished the darling stayed behind and still helped the nameless do their trailblazing. When the train broke down darling fell into a coma until himeko found the train and repaired it. Now the trailblazers defy the norms and actually set off to free all the darlings eternally trapped in the depths of the aeons clutches.

Now everything after this gets serious.

Let's start with lan the hunt.

Lan has no official main darling, he marks those who he deems either worthy or vulnerable. And the xianzhou alliance hunts them down and brings them to the xianzhou. Instead of normally getting married like normal people the people who can hunt down those marked by the hunt can marry them-even multiple of these darlings if can get multiple of them(lets just say jing yuan and Feixiao have many darlings-collect them like cat) the purpose is to show everyone that your the strongest because you’ve proven yourself the most to the hunt by collecting the most darlings. What you do with the darlings is up to the person who captured them. They say the general jing yuan has gotten many of his darlings pregnant as proof of his victory, feixiao’s darlings are known for not being able to walk after a night with her. All the darlings are usually covered head to toe in all sorts of hickeys and bite marks as proof of the cultists victory. Very rough treatment that the darlings go through.

Not nearly as rough as the darlings of Nanook have to endure though. Nanook believed that the universe is a mistake, everything except for their darlings of course. The less than a handful of darlings that Nanook chose. The followers of Nanook are only allowed to have the darling that Nanook himself picked out. Nanook himself is very cruel to his darlings but he sees it as “showing them the truth” He’ll kill one of his darlings entire family in front of them while having one of his followers eat them out to slowly train them into thinking that annihilating the universe is the best possible thing to do. Other than completely destroying everything that they love he treats the darlings like kings or queens and their followers obviously picking up on this and replicating this.

Now weirdly enough I’m thinking a lot about the Aeon Idrila, I’d imagine before her disappearance or death? Whatever happened to her, she was an aeon who actually took a lover rather than a darling. However, upon her not being there anymore her followers became delusional and thought they had to trap and contain beauty or else it’ll leave them just like idrila did. The knights of beauty are the only cultists in the universe that actually choose their darlings because idrila can’t. On new years eve they track down the most beautiful girl/boy they can find, kidnap them, then forcibly pleasure them until they’ve reached the pinnacle of beauty that they could make and then encase them in resin so they’ll never look any different-with a pleasure toy stuck on one of there most sensitive spots so they still feel pleasure even after being encased eternally. It also would’ve been super cool if Idrila had a main darling who was actually her lover but was kidnapped by the knights of beauty after her disappearance because they were afraid to lose idrilas last living proof of having existed, so after new years all 364 days are spent maintaining and upholding the main darling’s beauty-making them even more beautiful with endless pampering, lotions, and beauty care products. They’re also always overstimulated out of there mind because theres nothing more beautiful than someone constantly about to orgasm-according to the knights of beauty of course.

For the preservation I’d like to imagine that the main darling of Qlipoth is on the run from the IPC because they’ve long abandoned the will of the preservation but still pretend like they didn’t. Of course losing the main darling must’ve been the most humiliating thing possible so the IPC has kept it under wraps in the excuse that the main darling is ‘sick’ while secretly trying to hunt them down. They've come disgustingly close to getting the main darling and once they do the main darling is never going to see the light of day again. On the side note the other darlings are usually kept as pets or sugar babies. Sometimes the pet play gets a little too intense…

I'm going to end on the harmony because God that'd be a nightmare. Darlings of the harmony are chosen by xipe when they've been abused, hurt, or are in disharmony. Claiming that they need ‘help’. These darlings used to get actual help like therapy or a better opportunity to life but ever since the order became more prevelant they're now taken from there homes and kept under the ‘protection’ of the family. The family is there to bring them to ‘harmony’ which includes mind control, chains, and an endless amount of orgasms. One thing that is disappointing is the fact that people never talk about just how horrifying the harmony is, like you could be on the brink of orgasming and the harmony can make any pleasure you feel 10 times more intense and unavoidable, add the order and you can orgasm without ever even being touched. So intense you can't even remember your own name anymore. some ‘unruly’ darlings might even be drugged to the point there high out of there mind and can't even coherently think. The darlings of the harmony may be kept in gilded dreams and paradise but freedom stopped being an option.

One day a young singer named Robin found herself asking; ‘when did the harmony become less like the harmony and more like the order’

And that's all I have for now, may or may not be continued as this took me a very long time to make but anyone reading feel free to make a fanfic as I really like this idea.

Have a good day/night/evening/afternoon/morning!

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grim-reapers-wife · 3 days ago

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Tease (Loki x fem reader)

Summary: After a hot encounter Loki makes a promise to finish what he started. He stays true to his word.

Pt. 2 to Childish

Can be read as a standalone but I recommend going back and reading the first one 😊____________________________________________ 💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚

I eat bits and pieces of my slice of pizza. The whole crew is here for Friday night dinner, a tradition we've come to do every other weekend.

Loki is sitting beside me and it's like I can feel his gaze on me. His hand is resting above my knee and his grip is just enough to let me know he's there.

"You've barely touched your food, darling. Is something troubling you?" I turn to Loki.

"Yeah, kid. If something's wrong you should go lay down. I know you've had an eventful day." I roll my eyes at Tony.

"You're right it has been a long day," I scoot my stool out. "I'm gonna retire for the night. Goodnight everybody."

A couple of "goodnights" and "feel betters" are passed my way.

"Here darling, let me help you." Loki scoots his own stool away from the bar in the kitchen and walks over to me. "I'll make sure she gets to bed."

He takes my hand and leads me to the elevator. We step in and he pushes the button for his floor.

Click. 68

I feel his presence beside me. It suddenly feels so very small in this elevator.

"You look down right flushed. Perhaps I should distract you from this illness you have." He pushes me against the elevator wall; pinning me with his hips.

His lips crash on mine in a soft yet urgent kiss. My hands are above my head and held by just one if his, the other hand holds my waist and pulls my hips towards him.

"Loki." I say his name softly, like a prayer and a plea. His hand lifts under my shirt to hold the small of my back.

"Yes my little goddess, it's me who's making you feel this way." He kisses my neck just below my ear, working his way down to the collar of my shirt.

Ding The elevator doors open to his floor.

Loki picks me up and wraps my legs around his waist, kissing me swiftly before carrying me to his room.

He pushes the door open and kicks it shut with his foot while he kisses me senseless.

I can't think of anything but Loki. His hands, his strength, his lips, his tongue. I moan into the kiss and try to gain the upper hand but he bites my bottom lip and licks into my mouth again.

He sets me down on his bed and climbs over me. Hands wondering up my hips and in between my legs. I moan while he massages my pussy through my clothes.

"Feel good, baby? I'll make you feel so much better just you wait."

He sits up and a simple snap from him and we’re both undressed. I close my thighs and try to cover my boobs but he pins my hands.

“Uh uh uh, darling,” He pins my wrist together then lets go. “I want to see you,” I try and move my hands but they’re pinned magically. “All of you.”

He pushes my legs apart and stares down. I feel myself squirm under him at his gaze.

“Such a pretty thing.” He coos. “Mind if I get a taste?” He moves before I could even respond. He starts soft but very quickly picks up the pace.

I gasp and wrap my legs around his head. He holds my thighs and worships my cunt.

He inserts 2 fingers while he sucks and licks my clit. I feel the tightness of my pussy and the clench in my stomach.

“Don’t-” I moan. “stop!”

He hits the perfect spot on me with his long fingers and I feel myself unravel.

He sits back and sucks his fingers clean while looking me in the eyes. “I want to watch you cum while I pleasure you.”

I catch my breath and realize he’s released my hands from there magical bond. I sit up and jump in his lap.

He catches me and grabs my hips. I kiss him and grab his beautiful black hair to tilt him to the angle I want.

I pull back to catch my breath. “My turn, Mischief.”

I push him to where I was just laying and straddle his waist. I look back and lift myself up a little so I can angle myself just right.

I slowly slide him in with I strangled moan. He grips my hips firmly and pushes me down on him.

I start rocking my hips back and forth in an even pace. I rest my hands on his chest. “You’re such a tease, making me almost cum in the common room.”

"I'm the tease? You've been tormenting me-" He moans. "-for months. Seeing you when you've just woken up, Hel those sexy messy buns may be the end of me."

I feel his cock stretch me in just the right way, he holds my hips and bucks into me

He tips his head back. “You’re doing such a good job”

I moan am lay flat against him while he bucks into my pussy.

“Aww sweet girl,” He flips me over and thrust back inside in a single fluid motion. “Are you getting tired?

I answer him with a moan, my head tilts back when he fucks into me.

He lifts my legs and puts them over his shoulders; folding me in two.

“God!”

“Yeah, let everyone know a god is fucking your pussy!” He picks up his movements while a hand comes in between us to play with my clit.

He leans down and invades my mouth with his tongue, everything is happening all at once and before I can think I'm clenching down on him.

He pulls away from the kiss. "You're sucking me in so good, you feel that?"

I tilt my head back and press against the pillows. "Loki stop! I think I have to pee!"

He doesn't stop thrusting or making wonderful movements on my clothes, he just laughs. "Oh no sweet girl, you're going to squirt for me."

I feel a wave of hot bliss take over and I moan his name, he bites my neck and let's out a growl. His own release spills inside of me and mixes with my own, spilling and coating my thighs.

He mumbles something in another language that I don’t quite understand.

He moves my legs from off his shoulders and collapses onto me, still holding some of his wait with his forearms so he doesn’t crush me.

We sit in charged silence for an eternity while we catch our breaths.

He tilts his head up to me and kisses me, his tongue slides into my mouth gently this time. Slow and sensual.

I tangle my fingers in his hair and kiss him back with as much affection as I can.

He pulls back and breaks the silence. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

I snort a laugh. “Aren’t you like hundreds of years old and a total player? Surly give had better sex.”

He narrows his gaze. “I assure you I know how to judge my own sex, and that, was phenomenal. I can’t wait to do it again.”

I laugh again. “Already planning our next hook up?” He sits up and a warm rag magically appears.

He slowly wipes me clean. “I’m told it is not a hook up if we are together.”

I lean myself up on my arms. “Are you officially asking me out?” I cock a brow and smile.

He leans back from my legs and the rag poofs away. “Are you officially saying ‘yes’?”

“Well you haven’t actually asked yet.” I lay back.

He crawls back over me. “I, Loki of Asgard, offer myself up to you, as a romantic partner and companion until the end of time.”

I rest a hand on the side of his face. “Very formal, I like it. Yes, I will be, in modern terms; your girlfriend.”

He smiles and kisses me tenderly.

I pull back. “Only if you promise to do that squirting thing again.”

He laughs and kisses me again.

____________________________________________ 💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚🖤💚

Notes: I'm so sorry this took me FOREVER to do. I had it like half done for a while. But I'm really proud now that it's finished. 😌 I was in the mood for some Loki and what better way to scratch that itch then write some yourself.

Tags: @mischiefmaker615 @callloki @buttercupcookies-blog

#loki #loki fandom #loki fanfction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x you #marvel loki #mcu #mcu loki

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frownyalfred · 3 hours ago

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Okay I know you said you weren't gonna go as heavy on worldbuilding for the dragon fic cuz you're doing so much in Ninth Wave, but I’m curious your takes on these:

Are dragon shifters human exclusive, or do they exist in other species as well? If human exclusive, how do other species (whether from Earth like Amazons and Atlanteans or extraterrestrial) respond to/pick up on them? Cuz humans seem to be impacted in a lot of unconscious ways but would others feel it the same way?

Second, how are dragons impacted by poisons/toxins/etc? Cuz a lot of Gotham Rouges use those and I'm curious if Ivy accidentally nearly unleased Bruce's dragon side with some pheromone combo or something

I think they’re human exclusive in my mind, like the original dragons slowly breeded into the ancient human populations which is why they could learn to shift. The others (Atlanteans, Amazons, etc) were too isolated and rejected most if not all outsiders. But they still knew the old dragons, maybe, so they are wary of their descendants (rightfully so perhaps).

I would say the dragons are fairly resistant to most drugs/pheromones/etc except for the ones that directly target dragon instincts/heritage, like the kind of acid that Harvey gets splashed over his face. In a full blooded dragon it would probably just force a shift. Bruce has trained enough with Ra’s that he could probably resist the shift for a while, but as we see even he has his limits (6 months of grief after Jason’s death; two years of Ra’s prodding him to shift).

#asks #anon #dragon au #batman #bruce wayne #dc #myfic #theresurrectionist #batfamily

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admirationandromantics · 2 days ago

Text

Guilt and Grudges, 5: Dread

Aaaaand... you want something? You'll get it. I mean, ups, spoiler? No, I'm just joking, or am I? Anyways, I've been so busy today, so this chapter was a little late. You still got it thought, so no bad feelings there. Enjoy it! ...while you can

Ashley doesn’t notice them, still hulking and sobbing loudly. They start running towards us, and I let out a breath as I make out Emily and Matt.

“Chris!” Matt yells, arriving by his side as the blonde breaks down again. Matt holds him up, hand on his back, wondering what’s happening.

“Blood, whose blood is that?” Emily asks, voice and eyes worried as she looks over the crying girl in my arms.

“Are you okay?”

“What happened?” she asks again, and I try to form words, but fail. They’re in my head, but my body won’t let them out. I point to the shed, Chris being able to verbally express what happened.

“J-Josh, he’s dead, I killed him!”

“N-no” I breathe out, and Emily’s eyes shift back to me.

“A m-maniac, there’s a maniac on the mountain” I swallow, getting some of my voice back, even if it’s hoarse and chipped.

“He killed Josh, w-with a saw” Ashley breaks in, body shaking in my grasp. Matt comes over, grabbing her from me and giving her a hug. Emily takes both of my hands in hers, trying to get more information.

“Right in front of us, he made us choose who to save, a-and the blade”

“The blade what?”

“Cut him in two”

“Spilling blood everywhere, and I couldn’t do anything!” Chris interjects, hulking from all the crying.

“What!? Oh my god, what?”

I look down, suddenly being met with a hug from Emily, arms wrapping around me. I lean into her, craving the consolation she offers. I can feel her heartbeat, and I’m again reminded of what we’re bombarding them with. They weren’t there, they don’t know anything.

“Oh my god, we’ve gotta get out of here” she says, pulling back and nudging Matt.

“I don’t understand what happened” Matt says, but I shake my head, not wanting to talk anymore.

“This is insane, we need to get some help” Emily adds, looking over at Ashley, who’s yet again fallen to the ground.

“We’re gonna figure this out” Matt says, one hand going back to Chris. Emily turns to him.

“Matt, we need to get help right now”

“Em, we should look for the others” he counters, and I nod.

“Let’s collect everyone, one man can’t hurt us if we’re together, right?”

“Mike and Jess are off 69-ning each other, and who knows where Sam is”

“At the lodge” I say, a sinking feeling in my chest. She’s all alone, with none of us there. What if he's already gotten her?

“FIne, you’re right. Get everyone else together. But if there’s a maniac running around we need to get some help too, right? Not just wait around”

I nod, and Ashely has finally gotten up on her feet. Chris is standing up, and none of us are crying anymore. We need to keep our heads cool.

“But what about-” Matt tries, but Emily interrupts him.

“Why are we still talking about this, let's go!”

Chris grabs Ashley’s arm, dragging her with him. I turn to the others, nodding again.

“Good luck”

“Be safe”

And we each go our direction, feet hurrying as I hear howling in the distance. I walk beside them, none of us saying a word. We’re walking fast, and I don’t complain, we need to get Sam.

I hate the feeling of not knowing she’s okay. She was in the bath, maybe he did something to her. What if he took advantage of her, or if we open the door and her body is hanging from the ceiling. My mind continues playing out all these different scenarios, bracing myself for the worst.

A couple of arms suddenly embrace me, and I automatically jump, scared for my life.

“Just me, just me” Chris says, and I look over his shoulder to see Ashley continuing, slower than we walked before, but still going forward.

“Let me just, I-I need this” he whispers, his grip tightening around me. I let him, my arms going around his torso, fighting my own tears while holding him. It almost doesn’t seem fair for me to cry in front of him right now. We had a choice, and he chose. I know he didn’t mean for the outcome to be this way, but he needs me right now. At least one of us must be sharp, and since Sam isn’t here, that burden falls on me.

Ashley is in no condition to continue, horrors from last year haunting her mind, in combination with this one as well. I feel his tears coat my cheeks, running down to my neck. The cold air immediately makes the area freeze, so I lean further into him, one hand going behind his head to make him relax.

“I’m sorry” I whisper, giving soft caresses on his back.

“It wasn’t your fault” he sobs, grabbing me harder, making it difficult to breathe.

“It wasn’t yours either” At these words, he lets go a bit, letting himself relax in my embrace.

“I didn’t mean that I wanted to kill Ashley either” he continues, and I sigh.

“I know, we didn’t want any of this to happen”

We break it off, seeing Ashley in the distance. Just seeing her there alone makes my heart race, already stressing in case she gets snatched off the path.

“We need to get Sam”

“Yeah, let's focus on getting everyone together, so we can get off this mountain” he finishes for me, and I nod, his hand in mine as we make our way over to Ashley, walking beside her on the snow.

We eventually arrive back in the cabin, and hesitation takes over, scared to meet something as soon as we open the door. Ashley doesn’t think so, opening it and walking straight in, not scared of anything. She looks like a zombie, each step weak with her shoulders hung low. She’s not herself, but who would be after what we’ve witnessed?

The sight that meets us inside is nothing but weird and creepy. Balloons with arrows painted on them, a series of burning candles all over the lodge. I fear the worst.

“You guys check this floor, I’ll go upstairs to the bathroom” I say, not giving them a chance to disagree. My feet slam into the floorboard, old and costly wood panels beneath them. My heart’s racing, I can’t lose two of them tonight. I can’t lose Sam, not her. I arrive in the hallway, not being bothered by the ticking of the expensive clock. The bathroom door is open, heat and steam hitting my face as I approach. My hand goes to the handle, carefully opening the door.

“Sam?” I try, but nobody answers. I walk inside, being met with an empty room, the candles blown out and the water not yet drained. I look down, the floor is still wet, and the heat is still present, so she must’ve left not long ago. Though she still had time to blow out all the candles, and get her clothes back on. There’s nothing else in the room. I try all the corners, but just as I’m about to leave again, a grey fabric catches my eye. Kneeling down in front of the chair, I look underneath, seeing one of her socks. Why did she put on everything except for a sock? I imagine that if she were running, she would at least grab it and hold it until she had the chance to put it on again. That is, if she actually put on her clothes.

The mixed signals make me feel crazy, but it’s the only thing I can think about without crying. I don’t want to think that she’s dead, I don’t want to think about what the psycho might’ve done to her. She may be hurt, in a compromising position or even dead. How am I supposed to know? We still need to find her. If that guy is planning another one of his games, then she might still be alive, just captive. I leave the garment in the room, walking back downstairs, meeting the two others.

“She wasn’t up there?” Ashley asks, jogging over. I shake my head, trying to hold on to my expression without faltering.

“No, I didn’t see her”

They both look down, fearing the worst. I know how they feel.

“But I think she must’ve come down here, her sock was left and it wasn’t long ago” I explain, and while Chris gets a more determined look, Ashley just looks scared.

“Yeah, we didn’t find her either” she says, not liking where this is going. I walk past them, starting on down the stairs

“Well, she must be here, we just have to figure out where” I declare, continuing to go down. Chris follows and suddenly Ashley shrieks, making me jump.

“Oh my god!”

“What is it?”

“D-did that just happen?” she asks, and I take a few steps up, seeing them both look intently at a candle.

“Dammit, what is going on around here?”

“Will someone just tell me what happened?” I ask again, a bit more irritated, keeping my eyes on the flame.

“The candle, it just got lit when I passed by” she explains, and I walk up the full set of stairs. It’s weird, it definitely is, but there can be logical explanations for this. It could’ve gone out, and one of the lit ones ignited it through the smoke. Just basic chemistry. The others walk past me, wanting to get away, and of course, find Sam.

I move quickly, walking over to the candle and inspecting it. It’s electric, not a real flame. I look underneath, not seeing a switch. This must be steered by some sort of controller or button. Someone is trying to mess with us, trying to freak us out. The horrid thing is, we know who it is.

I still can’t put my mind on what happened with the spirit board, but if this place is truly haunted by the events of last year, I’ll do my best not to get caught up in it. Ghosts don’t exist, and if they do, I doubt they can cause us any physical harm.

“I just… I know you and Josh were close”

I hear their faint voices, a little further away than for comfort. I run down the stairs hoping to catch up with them. On the small table is another flashlight, and I grab it and turn it on, making my way down the steps and into the cinema.

“Let’s just find Sam, okay? That’s what we’re doing now” Chris says as I meet them downstairs. They both look over at me as I arrive, Chris still looking a bit sad, but hiding it beneath his facade.

“Find anything yet?” I ask, looking around.

“Well…” Ashley points to a broken vase, shards from the ornament splattered across the floor. I walk over to the pieces, picking one up.

“Do you think this has anything to do with Sam?” Ashley asks, a slight whimper in her voice. I shake my head, looking around for anything else that might be of use.

“I… I don’t know” I admit, standing up again. She could have thrown it to defend herself, or the maniac might’ve. Someone could have stumbled into it, or maybe a gush of wind or an animal did it. There’s so many possibilities, and my head feels like mush compared to normal.

“Guys, the doors further in are all open. You think she went into the cellar?” Chris asks, and I look up. He’s right, they’re all wide open. It seems kind of odd, maybe a bit too convenient? Something is wrong, very wrong. I already know we’re walking into somewhere we shouldn’t be, but I can’t help myself. I shift my gaze to Chris, whose eyes are already on me. I give him a weak encouraging smile, and his shoulders lose part of their tension. He walks in, and I follow close behind, Ashley stopping and holding herself.

“Are you guys sure, what if we’re walking straight into some kind of trap?” she asks, and we both stop. I know she’s right, but at the same time, I don’t want to leave Sam to fend for herself. If we could get to her, and possibly catch the maniac off guard, then maybe we can get off this mountain.

“We have to think about Sam” I state, shaking my head a bit. She nods, coming after us. Just as Chris and I walk in the first door, it abruptly shuts and locks. We all shriek, and since I’m closest, I go to try and pry it open. It won’t.

“Ashley! Ash!” I scream, shaking the handle and ripping the door. It still won’t budge.

“Guys, I’m fine!” She shouts back through the door. Chris’s hand goes to my shoulder, trying to make me calm down. I take a few deep breaths. This might be some sort of small scares that the maniac has put throughout the house, like the candle. He can’t be watching us right now, right?

“Can you get the door open?” I ask, waiting for a response. The door doesn't move, but I hear the sound of her fiddling with the lock before eventually trying brute force.

“I can’t…”

My hands go to my head, and Chris quickly takes hold of them, forcing me to not freak out. I look up at him, and he takes a couple of big steady breaths, trying to ease me. I nod a bit, still terrified. This man killed Josh, and he gave us the choice to kill her. What if he kills her either way?

“Ash, go to your room” Chris says through the door. I look up at him, eyes wide in shock.

“What!?” she exclaims, trying the door again.

“You heard me, barricade yourself in there, and when you hear us up there again, you can come out. We’ll all get out of here”

“But the door, if we just… maybe?” I try, knowing the door is a lost cause. He gives me a look, and I shut up.

“Okay… But please, stay safe?” Ashley says with a defeated tone.

“You too” I plead back, and hear her walk away on the floorboards. I look up to Chris again, his eyes determined but still filled with worry.

“She’ll be okay” he whispers, hands slowly moving up to the side of my shoulders.

“You don’t know that, Chris…”

“I choose to believe it, okay? Now, let’s find Sam and get away from here”

I nod, holding tightly onto him with one hand, and the flashlight in the other. He drags me with him, through the room and further into a hall. This place doesn't necessarily look scary, but the atmosphere, the things that have happened tonight makes it worse. We let go of each other, and he goes to the left as I slowly start to open the door in front of me. Just as I’m about to look in, it slams shut and locks, making me retrieve my hand quickly, a small shocked squeak escaping me.

“This is so effed up!” He exclaims, and I look over at him, continuing to the other door.

“You don’t say” I whisper, almost afraid that something will hear us. The door abruptly opens, making me stop in my tracks, hand clutching my heart.

“I swear, you’ll kill yourself if you don’t try to calm down” he states, and he gives me a look. Even if he’s firm, there’s a sense of softness there, a hint of protection and vulnerability.

“How the fuck am I supposed to calm down?” I ask, walking in front of him and through the door. I look both ways, and a thin, white figure walks into another room at the end of the hall. My eyes widen, heart beating faster as my hand goes to my mouth, body slowly taking a step backwards. I hit something, and immediately jump.

“Jesus Christ, really, you need to calm down” he whispers, hands going over my arms, rubbing softly. I ignore him, pointing to the end of the hall.

“Did you see that?” I ask, carefully walking over there.

“Uh… did I see what?”

“It was… I don’t know. I saw something!”

“What was it, was it the maniac?”

“N-no” I stutter, trying to explain. “It was a see-through shape, like a ghost”

“Oh, boy” He sighs, and I give him a small punch in the arm.

“I’m serious” I state, still shaken up. I look up at him, his mouth slightly open, but no words come out. He looks like he pities me, or that I’m crazy. I feel my emotions going highdrive, never knowing they could get as high as they have before now.

“Why don’t you believe me? I said I saw it, doesn’t that count for anything?”

He takes a breath, hands going to my shoulders again, thumbs rubbing a little harder than necessary. He speaks in a calm voice, tone low while maintaining eye contact.

“Look, we’ve been through hell tonight. Okay? Your mind is fried, my mind is fried. I don’t even trust what I’ve been seeing”

“Chris…”

“Listen, I know you think you saw something, but it might just be your head messing with you”

“No, you don’t understand, I did see it” I urge, hands going to him, grabbing his shirt.

“You’re tired, dehydrated, traumatised…”

“I…” I start, but can’t argue with him. Maybe I just thought I saw something. It didn’t make any sound, and he didn’t see it. Am I going crazy? He notices my stress, and wraps his arms around me. Though I know he’s supposed to be comforting, I can’t help but listen to the beat of his heart. It’s fast, very fast. He’s as scared as I am.

I pull a little away, hand going to cup his face. Now that I have him so close, I can see the lines of worry on his forehead and around his eyes. His chest is moving rapidly up and down, though he’s trying to conceal it. His mouth is slightly open, which makes his breathing heavier. I look at his lips, noticing how soft they look. Without thinking, I pull him closer, capturing my lips on his.

He doesn’t hesitate for even a small moment, leaning against me, pushing me into the wall. He grabs both our flashlights, leaving them on the table beside us, hands going to my waist and neck. I fold my arms around him, feeling myself get caged underneath and against the brick wall. His lips go to my neck, kissing and sucking, with an occasional bite that makes me gasp. Fingers hook the hem of my sweater, wanting it off.

“Chris…” I whisper, but it comes out as more of a plea than a protest.

“Mmm” He hums, feeling me up underneath the fabric.

“I didn’t want this to be the place or situation we did this for the first time in” I admit, leaning my head back to give him better access.

“Neither did I. Are you saying no?” He asks, pulling a little away, faces still close.

“We might die”

“I want you before that happens”

I nod in agreement, and he leans in again, capturing my lips. My heart is still beating rapidly, senses in a hundred as he keeps feeling me up. I’m terrified, but at the same time, I’ve never wanted him so bad.

I lift my arms, letting him pull the sweater and shirt off me in one quick motion. I do the same to him, making his toned upper body bare, fingers tracing his muscles.

“We don’t have time for all of that” he whispers, already working on my pants. I want to revel in the moment, take all the time I need, get to know his body inch by inch. But I know that’s a privilege I don’t have right now. I fumble with his belt while he drags my pants down, letting them fall to my ankles and kick them off. He helps me with his, getting it off and pressing me up against the wall again.

“I’ve wanted you for so long” he whispers between kisses. Hands going down to my thighs, kneading softly.

“Chris, I don’t want to lose you, not now…”

“You’ll not, we’ll find the others” he states, pulling himself out of his boxers. “We’ll group up” he drags my panties to the side. “And we’ll get off this mountain”

As he finishes, his hands grab my thighs again, lifting me up against the wall, pushing me between it and him. My legs automatically go around his torso, and arms over his shoulders, holding me up.

“We’ll be okay, you’ll be okay…” he comforts, ghosting over my entrance. I suddenly start feeling the cold around us, his body being the only warm thing in here. I pull him closer, kissing his neck and tracing lines on his back with my fingers.

“Let’s not think about those things for a while. I don’t want to think about us dying”

A small, genuine chuckle leaves his lips, and he finally pushes into me, slowly. We both give out small moans, relishing in the little moment we have.

“F-fuck, Chris!”

He hums in response, staying inside me for a couple of seconds, not moving.

“Can I?” he asks, tilting his head up to mine, lips barely touching.

“Please”

He doesn’t need any other confirmation, and he starts moving. Slowly at first, getting into a steady rhythm as the cold seems to wear away, the room filling with our moans and whimpers. I feel myself being pushed further into the wall, him holding me up with only one hand while the other graces over my stomach and down to my clit.

“How are you able to -ahh!” I try to question him, but his thumb starts rubbing small circles on my spot, making me throw my head back. He doesn’t answer, too busy touching me, making me feel ecstasy. My core starts building up, head foggy from need and anticipation. I do my best to keep quiet, but moans and whimpers escape me, bursting from my lips as he gets deeper with each thrust. His head moves closer to mine, lips meeting, making us swallow each other’s sounds. He grunts, rhythm becoming a little unsteady.

“I’m gonna-”

“Mmf!” I whimper out, unable to answer him. I’m so close, on the verge of pure bliss, not thinking about our situation or what’s to come, just him and me at this moment. My legs start twitching, and his thrusts become rougher, going deeper, hitting my cervix, making me cry out. He captures my lips again, determined to keep me a little more silent. I can’t help it, his hands, tongue, body. I’m not thinking about the hard wall, or the cold air, or the maniac killer. I’m thinking about him, and how good he makes me feel, how much he cares and wants me.

“Come on, such a good girl for me” he whispers against my lips. His words throw me over the edge, and he swallows my cries as I finish all over him. It doesn’t take long for him to follow through, a couple of thrusts more before he buries himself in me, body leaning over, and head resting on my shoulder. My hand goes to the back of his neck, gently caressing with my fingers.

“I… I don’t know what to say” he admits, face pulling away from my skin and looking at me.

“We don’t have to say anything” I whisper, leaning forward and giving him a small kiss. We slowly but surely steady our breathing, bodies slowly growing colder from the lack of physical activity.

“But we should…” I start, and he nods, carefully putting me down.

“Yes, we should”

We both have the same understanding, no matter how we feel in this moment, how long we want to revel in it. We’re selfish, that’s just a fact. Ashley is barricaded in her room, Sam is kidnapped, Josh is dead, and god knows where the other’s are. Yet, we’re here, finally taking that step we’ve always wanted to do, always walking around the bush. I guess we ought to know each other like this before everything ends. It truly had to be a dire situation to get our egotistical pleasurable priorities straight.

Our clothes are still on the floor, cold from being unused. Still, it’s better than nothing, and we quickly get dressed. I’ve almost forgotten about everything that happened, the small things, the big ones, the freaking ghost. I feel calmer, clearer, and I think he does too. His breathing is slowed down, and he doesn’t have that stressed look on his face. He looks determined, strong. I like this look on him.

Taglist: @porcelainbluedove @b3rryb3t @batteryacid404 @fordthegamelord819

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