#to fuck around and exist in a different place for a little bit and then waste my fucking life

[prettyfastcars]

owned | Mob!Lando

Summary: You took the job because the pay was extremely good. Your boss’ reputation didn’t make that much of a difference to you. After all, his kids were who you would be spending most of your time with, not the single father… right? 

Themes: nanny!reader, infidelity, sort of dark!mob!lando, smut, explicit language, possessive!lando, breeding kink (brief)

“I’d like to see you before you leave.” 

It was the same sentence every night. Every single night. And each night, those words tormented you. You felt too much at the same time. Guilt. Shame. Hunger. Lust. More guilt. Anticipation. 

The first night, on your first day many months ago, when he first said those words to you when he came home from work, you thought they were harmless. Maybe a caring father wanting to know how his kids behaved with their nanny on her first day. You’d thought that he’d ask you about your day with his kids. 

And he did ask. But that wasn’t all. When you left his study room that night to go home, something in you had changed. Nothing had happened without your consent, and yet it felt like he had invaded a part of you that you didn’t know existed. And the worst part was, you couldn’t wait for him to do it again. 

And now, that damn sentence had become part of your routine. 

After putting the kids to bed, and making sure they were asleep and snoring adorably, you made your way to those huge doors of his study room. 

You didn’t need to knock anymore, you just walked in and shut the doors behind you. 

And there he was. The man most people were scared of in this city. The man who had hired you as the nanny for his kids. Also the man whom you slept with each night before going home to your oblivious boyfriend. 

Lando stood by the large window, looking down at his front yard which was easily one of the most impressive features of his cape cod style mansion. As usual, he was sipping on his drink. Hand running through his curly hair. He had his back to you but you knew he must have the top buttons of his shirt undone. 

You cleared your throat as you approached his lean body standing by the window. Lando turned to face you then, smiling as he watched you walk over to him. Once you were close enough, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer. 

Nuzzling your neck and breathing in your scent he said, “Hi baby, how was your day?” 

“Um, good.” You gasped when you felt his gentle kisses up and down your neck. 

“How were the kids?” He asked, casually kissing your skin like this was normal. 

“They were great, as always.” Your heart raced as you wrapped your arms around him, his body heat felt familiar and… good. It felt safe being here with him, no matter how wrong it was. 

“You missed me?” He asked, pulling you even closer as he playfully nibbled on your skin. “‘Cause I missed you. I thought of you all day, you know that?” He pulled away to look at you. “I saw you in this little dress this morning and I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking you in it.” 

He leaned in to kiss you, like he always does, but tonight you stopped him. You turned your head just the slightest bit so he’d miss your mouth. And he didn’t like that. 

“I… I can’t stay tonight.” You whispered, looking down at the buttons on his shirt instead of into his pretty eyes. Because you could never resist them. 

Lando sighed, kissing along your jaw. You could smell a faint hint of the whiskey he’d just been drinking. “Why do you always do this? Hmm?” He whispered into your ear, “Why do you act like you don’t want this?” 

He placed his glass down on his desk and let his hands wander all over you. He ended up pushing you onto the edge of his desk, stepping in between your legs. One hand sliding under your dress and caressing your thighs, while the other ran up and down your back lovingly. 

“I have to go home.” You said, looking into his eyes and immediately regretting it because he could get you to do anything with one look of those soft eyes. 

“To him?” He asked in an accusatory tone. His expression changed from calm to annoyed. He tsked in disappointment when you remained quiet. “How many times are you gonna talk about this, baby?” 

“I can’t just break up with him.” You argued. “We’ve–,” 

He cut you off. “Oh? So you can’t break up with him but you have no issues going home to him every night with my cum still dripping from your pussy, huh?” 

You used to find his crude words shocking, but not anymore. “It’s not as easy as you think.” 

Lando scoffed, “I’ll make it easier for you if you want.” 

You knew what he insinuated. He was the man he was because of his crooked ways after all. And you immediately shook your head. “Don’t hurt him.” 

That only pissed him off more. His hand moved from your back to wrap around your neck, “We’re not gonna play this little game anymore, you hear me?” He whispered against your skin, lips moving along your jaw while his fingers toyed with the seam of your underwear. 

You struggled to find the right words. So he continued. 

“How long are you gonna keep him in the dark, hmm? How long are you gonna keep going home and sleep beside him while you’re still filled with my cum every night?” He scoffed. “He’s gonna find out someday.” He stated. “Better tell him the truth.” 

“Lando…” You were barely able to think coherently when he easily slid his fingers inside you, stroking you perfectly like he always does. You squirmed and whimpered, before whispering, “This is wrong. We should stop.” 

“So you keep saying.” He answered, arrogant and smug. “Yet you come here each and every night to get fucked.” He pulled away to look into your eyes, still finger-fucking you just hard enough to keep you wanting more but not making you come just yet. “Does this feel wrong, baby?” 

You let out a loud moan as his finger hit the right spot. “Please…” You begged, you didn’t know what for. 

He smirked. “Look at you,” He cooed, “I know he doesn’t touch you like I do. You’re wasting your time with him when you belong to me. You belong right here,” He whispered, pulling his fingers all the way out before sliding them back in, making you moan even louder, “See?” 

You opened your mouth to answer, probably about to beg him to touch you more, but he was already pushing you down onto his desk. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his lean waist as he bent down to kiss you. His hand still around your neck while the other slid the strap of your slip dress down your shoulder. 

He let go of your throat eventually, still kissing you passionately as his hands quickly got rid of your dress, letting it fall to the ground careless as his mouth kissed down your neck, further down your chest until he latched on to one of your nipples. He sucked on it gently as your back arched off the desk, with you whining in bliss. 

You cried out, “Lando…” 

“I know, baby.” He whispered, “I know.” 

Your fingers found their way into his soft, curly hair and you tugged on it softly, making him groan as he kissed his way up to your neck once again while he slid your underwear down your legs quickly. 

“You’re mine.” He whispered against your tender, swollen lips, “All mine.” 

His hands quickly undid his trousers and you immediately felt his tip, leaking with precum, slightly pressing against your wet folds as he slid it up and down before aligning it to your dripping hole. 

Lando held himself up with one hand, bent over you as he stared down at you. “You’re gonna break things off with him tonight.” He said in that authoritative voice of his, the one which made you tremble and clench your thighs together. “And tomorrow you’ll be all mine, and mine alone. You understand?” 

You nodded, panting in need. 

“That’s my good girl.” He whispered before slowly sliding his cock inside you. You whimpered as he filled you up perfectly, stretching you out just enough to make you lose your mind. He groaned as he began moving in and out of you, setting a pace that made your heart race even faster than before. He slowed down for a moment, thrusting into you nice and slow as he hovered above you, looking down at you with parted lips and intense eyes. “Do you know how often I think about us living here together?”

You couldn’t look away from his pretty eyes, couldn’t think about anything else as he fucked you with deep, slow strokes of his cock. He leaned in to kiss your lips, swallowing your moans as he pulled out completely and pushed back into you, making you gasp and whine in pleasure. 

“We’ll be so happy together.” He whispered, kissing along your jaw. “The kids love you,” Then he chuckled, “I love you,” He murmured into your ear. He picked up his pace then, pounding into you relentlessly, as he kissed your open mouth, swallowing all your moans and whimpers in the process. “Think about how happy we would be.” 

You whined upon hearing his words, and also the sounds your bodies made together, filling the entire study. 

“Look at me, baby.” He stared down at you, his pretty eyes seemed even prettier in the dimmed room. “Do you know how often I think about you carrying more kids for me?” He was relentless as he pounded into you like he owned you. “You’ll be such a pretty mom, all swollen, and these tits would be nice and full too,” He leaned in again, kissing you softly before whispering, dangerously. “Would that finally make you leave that piece of shit? Hmm? Is that what it’s gonna take?” 

You tried answering but it ended with a loud moan as his cock reached all the right places. He smirked and sped up into you again, relishing the feeling of you wrapped around him like you were made for it. Hearing you moan and squirm under him only encouraged him to thrust deeper into you. 

“I’ll…” You whined, “I’ll talk to him. Tonight.” You struggled to form proper sentences as his body moved perfectly against yours. “I promise.” 

“That’s good.” He whispered, wiping a tear which fell down your face. “Because I’m done being patient now, you hear me?” 

You nodded quickly, whining as he sped up again, fucking you so hard you could hear the papers and files on top of his desk falling to the ground and neither of you cared. 

“Come for me, baby.” He whispered, his voice strained and raspy. “Come with me.” 

Your mind was foggy by then, and it took your brain a few seconds to register and process his words. Not even a few moments later, you felt him twitch inside of you, his cock throbbing against your walls. 

“Fuck,” He came with a growl, gripping your hips and filling you up like he always does. 

You whined as you came around him as well, crying his name and moaning loudly. You felt his smirk against your neck as he kissed his way up to your lips again. 

“Tomorrow,” He whispered, reminding you of what you promised, “I’ll fuck you in my bed until the sun comes up.” 

You could only nod as you felt his cum beginning to drip down your inner thighs. 

— 

He stood by the window again, watching your car as it drove away down the long driveway and out of his property. 

This would be the last time he promised himself. From now on you wouldn’t have to go home each night. You’d just stay right here, where you belonged, under his roof and in his care. 

But just in case things didn’t go according to plan… 

Lando grabbed his phone and made a quick call. Barking his orders at his guy who listened intently on the other side. 

“She just left. Go wait by her apartment complex.” He smirked as he spoke, “I’m willing to bet they’ll have an argument, and just as always, he’ll storm out to go get some air.” 

Lando knew that because… well, he always kept an eye on you through the discrete cameras he’d had installed all around your building. How else would he sleep in peace if he didn’t have eyes on his girl at all times? 

He continued, “I’ll tell you when he leaves her apartment, and you’ll move then. Wait for him to walk past the alleyway, and remember, make it look like an accident.” He sighed, even as excitement washed over him, “Can’t have my girl blame me for killing her ex boyfriend.”

--

part 2

[nanivinsmoke]

All Of Me

♪ take all of me, i just wanna be the girl you like—the kind of girl you like ♪

logan ‘wolverine’ howlett x fem!reader

tags: features your favorite merc with a mouth, takes place in deadpool three, age gap, flirting, mutual sex, rough sex, couch sex, creampies, mentions of drinking (don’t worry everything is consensual) sorry i don’t have much tags….

notes: listen to the song for added vibes ! |bottom of page|

“So? How does this look?” You turn to look at your friend and neighbor, Wade, as he modeled his off his brand new black wig. You took a long look at it, it was a stiff and a little dry; however it was different compared to the brown one he was rocking a week ago before his mission.

“Preferred the brown Justin Bieber one you had before. Now Wade, can we please have a game night? Pretty please!” You begged while the loud mouthed merc went silent and took off the new wig he brought before putting his red and black mask over his head.

“Game nights are such a hassle, Blind Al sucks at charades. Why do you want a game night so—oh” He paused and you swear you could hear him smirk behind his mask.

“You wanna do the hanky panky with old man logan, huh?” His eyes scrunched and he in your face, causing you to look away.

“Hide the zucchini with the Wolvie? Play naked twister? Prison role play? Recreating Busty—“

“Okay we get it!” You rolled your eyes and pushed his face away, heart practically beating out of your chest at the mere mention of your friend’s hot new roommate.

After the timeline altering mission, which you learned over chimichangas at Wade’s, you’ve had the pleasure of meeting the sexiest man to ever exist. Logan, was everything and then some. From his beautiful hazel eyes, to his voice down to his mutant powers; everything about him had you creaming your panties and Wade knew it too.

“Please, just one game night! That’s all i want, please Wade!” You begged once more, grabbing his wrist—making him turn to you. “What’s in it for me? Do i get a peek at the goodies too? Hm? Do I get to pop your cherry? Tongue Punch your fartbox? Eiffel—“

“A date and alone time with Vanessa” You cut him off before he could go on with anymore innuendos.

“See you tonight! Should i wear this one tonight?” Wade pulled out another wig, pulling it over his mask. It was ginger curly wig.

“Fuck no, Carrot Top” You snatched his wig off, making the merc pout.

It was a little bit after seven, the perfect time for you to show up at Wade’s place. You helped Wade send out invitations for the game night, which was at 6:30 pm. You decided to show up a little late, to make a grand entrance even though you lived right across the hall.

As soon as you got home, you immediately went to your closet picking out your best outfit, one that made your ass look so round and plump in it, before having the longest shower session ever known. After putting the last touches to your ‘i-wanna-fuck-a-twohundred-year-old-man’ outfit, you grabbed the pan of your famous monster nachos, and headed across the hall.

After you knocked twice on the door, it swung open revealing your mouthy neighbor; whom scowled behind his mask. “Well, look who decided to show up! I shouldn’t even let you in, Vanessa’s not even here!” He crossed his arms over his chest and got in your face, upset that you didn’t hold up your end of the bargain.

“Who’s not here?” Vanessa popped up behind you, her curly raven hair flowing as she moved, shocking your neighbor and making him back up from your space. You wore a smug look on your face as you walked into his apartment, pushing the pan of nachos into his hands and taking a look around his place; searching for Logan.

Wade, who had now taken off his mask and was eyeing Vanessa as she got comfortable, started to dig into your pan of nachos; until he see your face in his peripheral vision.

“Looking for Logan sugar bear? Wolvie went to go take Mary for a walk and to get us some beers—“

“And some coke!” Blind Al cut in, emerging from the kitchen; making you smile. “No, not this time Althea.” Deadpool responded, now standing next to you while the two of you watched the little old man lady make her way into the living room—cursing up a storm.

Turning his attention back to you, Wade stuck his fingers into your yummy pan of nachos and stuffed him down his mouth, “He’ll be back soon. Although he is over a hundred years old; so it might take grandpa a while to get back.” You pouted and grabbed some chips from the pan before stomping over to the living room and sitting on the black leather couch.

It felt like an hour had passed and Logan hadn’t showed up yet. You were trying your best to not seem sad, occupying your mind by talking with Yukio and Vanessa; earning some stares from Wade. You weren’t letting him speak to her, not until he showed up.

Almost like he heard you, the man of the hour finally walked through the door, holding a pack of beer and almost empty bottle of whiskey; followed by Mary Poppins skippering into the room.

“Look! He’s back! Everyone he’s back, with the beer! Hey Vanessa….” Wade announced to everyone before going to talk with Vanessa, but really it was for you. You shot your eyes up and caught his, giving him a soft smile before he quickly turned away and headed to the kitchen to put the beers down.

You hesitated on following after him, until you saw Wade motion for you to go after him. You excused yourself and walked into the small space, seeing the tall male place the beers into the fridge—you reached over and grabbed on, catching him by surprise.

The smell of his cologne piercing your nostrils and you tried your best to ignore the small throbbing you felt below. “Thanks for the beer.” You wanted to bite your tongue off after those words left your mouth. That’s all you had to say to him? Thank him for the beers?

Before you could leave, the deep voice behind you called out to you, “You’re the one that lives across the hall, right? You made those delicate shrimp tacos?” You nodded your head, a smile plastered on your face while taking a swig of the rich flavored beer.

“You think they were delicious?” You asked, already knowing his answer—however you were really excited that he knew who you were. He nodded and reached over to take a swig of your beer before responding.

“I had to sneak one because Wade wouldn’t let anyone have one, but god those were good.” You smiled and pulled another beer out of the fridge as he finished the rest off the first one you shared.

As it became later into the night, the two of you stayed in the kitchen getting know each other better. He decided to pull out the hard stuff, so instead of finishing off the pack of beer—the two of you decided to split his whiskey. The more the two of you talked, the more you fell for him.

“Who’s ready for some Strip Poker! I’ll go first!” Wade’s perky voice announced, making the two of you freeze and share a look with each other; faces contorting in disgust.

“I’d rather claw my eyes out then to see that. Let’s get out of here. What do ya say, princess?” He asked you, standing up and holding out his hand. You smiled and got up as well, bringing the whiskey with you. Walking out the kitchen and into the living room hand in hand, the two of headed to the door—surprising a half dressed Wade.

“Where do you two think you’re going?”

“To fuck off.” You responded, sticking a middle finger up at your neighbor before waving at Yukio and Vanessa; leaving the party and going to your apartment—getting away from Wade’s antics.

Sitting on your plush living room couch, the two of you continued with your conversation from earlier, the bottle of whiskey flowing freely between the two of you.

The older man couldn’t help but to take in your beautiful features, the way your eyes twinkled when he said something about his past, the way your beautiful plump lips curved up when he talked about a good memory he had—it had him losing his mind. He had found you attractive, he always did, but he was too afraid to act on his attraction. Too afraid for what could possibly happen….

“How are you still single?” You blurted out, the effects of the strong alcohol messing with your cognitive functions. He shifted in his spot and moved his eyes from yours, making you immediately regret asking.

“I’m not a good guy. I hurt people, every move i make….someone ends up getting hurt.” There was some silence before his eyes returned to yours and you couldn’t help the next words that left your mouth. You scooted closer to him and grabbed him by the chin, making him look at you, “What if I like being hurt?”

His eyes widened and he searched yours, processing what you just said before he gave into temptation; kissing you with such passion. He easily dominated you, gripping the back of your head—tugging onto your hair, making you moan out; which gave him the opportunity to pull away and look at you.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, princess.”

“I’m a big girl, Logan. I can take a little pain~” He wasted no time on smashing his lips against yours again, pulling you into his lap while his hands roamed your small back, before falling down to your ass. He squeezed both cheeks through your denim jeans, rubbing and pinching the fat—causing you to moan out his name. He was beyond hard hearing your sweet voice call out to him and you could feel it pressing right into your cunt.

You rolled your hips, creating some stimulation for you—another sexy moan leaving your mouth. He gripped the sides of jean’s hard, ripping them apart and causing you to gasp. “Can’t wait much longer. Sorry, princess,” His voice was gruff, panty wetting; turning you on even more. You reached underneath and fumbled with his belt buckle, finally unclasping it and unzipping his pants—pulling his navy blue briefs down; making his hard cock spring free.

You salivated at the sight. His deep brown happy trail lead right down to his glistening, angry, pinkish cock—jumping from the cool air. You let out a glob of spit, catching it once it hit his precum coated head—jerking him off. He closed his eyes and groaned, the sensation making his body grow hot. And when you pulled your panties to the side and let his tip slide against your slick lips; those tired looking eyes shot open.

“You ready for that, hm?” He asked, his bushy brown eyebrow raising as he watched you tease yourself; a soft gasp leaving your lips. With a head nod, you pushed him into your sodden entrance, gasping and gripping his broad shoulder; as he stretched you to fit his cock. Logan watched with low lidded eyes, in a deep lust filled trance as you took control, hands glued to your side.

“Fuck, princess….take all of it like a good girl…” He praised, sending a smack to your plump ass. You took him as deep as you could, however it wasn’t all of him…you couldn’t take it all. Your hips slowly moved on its on, grinding and bouncing—getting used to how much was inside of you.

Soon that bubble of pain popped and turned into pleasure, and your pace increased. Your hips were no longer bucking, instead you were practically jumping on his dick—the sound of skin meeting one another’s created a loud lewd noise; music to your ears—drowning out what was playing across the hall.

Logan couldn’t believe it, he was in pure bliss, he finally had you and was going to enjoy this very moment. He was scared, he didn’t want to bring his past into the new world—especially with you here.

Almost like you read his thoughts, you pulled him by his chin and made him look at you, “you don’t need to protect me…..I can take it—shit…just fuck me daddy.”

Hearing those words fueled him and he gripped your hips tightly, before pushing you further down onto his cock; making you take all of him. You gasped loudly, however you weren’t able to process it because he was forcing you up and down on his dick—stretching your gummy walls with each stroke.

He loved the sexy noises that left your pretty little mouth along with the squelching and small queefing that your cunt released with each powerful thrust. “That’s it baby…ride daddy’s dick. Fuck—you’re so tight!” You smashed your lips on his, a sweaty sloppy kiss between the both of you as the tightness in your stomach was brewing.

“G’na cum…fuck daddy! Can I cum? Please please please….” You begged, hands on his clothed chest—gripping his navy blue flannel shirt. The older man grunt and smirked, holding your hips while you continued to bounce.

“Go ahead and cream on daddy’s dick, princess.”

That’s all you needed to finally release that tight ball in your stomach, releasing your essence all over his thick shaft. He was right behind you as well, with a few more pumps, his thick milky white load pooled out in thick white ropes—filling you up.

The two of you stayed like that, peppering kissing on each other’s lips, a small smirk on his face. He was in bliss—no, he was in love. The hard ass Wolverine had finally opened his heart. He wasn’t about to make another universe hate him, he’ll damn sure try hard to not mess it up.

Sneaking away from his third round of strip poker, Wade crept into the hallway and picked the lock to your apartment door. Before entering he let out a little school girl giggle, before continuing to tip toe into your apartment—holding back his gasp at the sight bestowed before him.

A sweaty, shirtless Wolverine balls deep inside of you, giving you hard deep strokes as you laid on the couch taking all of him.

“The two of you need a third?” Their head whipped towards the door in sync, their faces of pleasure changing to anger.

“Fuck Off Wade!” He scurried back out the door, dodging the pillow being thrown at him. He took a deep breath before looking at the readers

“Welp! That’s all folks!”

[adispit]

Hiyaaa can I ask for Ayato from Genshin with a kitsune reader who steals pieces of his clothing as a secret crush on him but one day Ayato catches them and punishes them.

A Punishment ?

Ayato x kitsune! bttm male reader

Content warnings: spanking, anal tongue fucking (receiving), overstimulation, rough sex, creampie , slight predator prey dynamic (if you squint), slight dubcon because reader wasn’t really into the spanking at the start

Note: This fic has been marinating in my inbox for 2 weeks so I hope you enjoy! Also I haven’t played Genshin in a year so this might be a tad bit ooc 😭. Enjoy!

You had always been someone in the background, shadowed and sheltered under the protection of your sister, Guuji Yaemiko. Few to none knew of your actual existence as centuries passed, except for the Raiden Shogun and the clans themselves. Her influence stretched far, wrapping around you like a protective veil.

The Shrine was your haven, but also your cage. Every decision, every move you made, was watched, controlled. It was always for your safety, she would say. The sister who would tease and always play you like a fiddle to her silly whims became firm and unmovable when it came to exploring beyond the Inazuman city. You had been sheltered from the harsh realities of the world, never given the freedom to truly explore it. Yet, that defiant streak within you had only grown stronger. You didn’t want protection. You wanted to live.

However, what your sister could not shield you from was unforeseen. A little crush you had harboured for the Yashiro Commissioner himself, Kamisato Ayato. A man who carried himself with grace and power — a man who like your sister, commanded respect wherever he went. The very man that made the Kamisato name arise from its ashes and make it the prestigious clan today. As much as you hated to admit it, you were nothing better than those maidens who chased after him relentlessly for marriage offers. It stung to think of yourself in that way, to admit that you were drawn to him with the same intensity that they were.

It wasn’t just his power or his elegance. It was the way he moved with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly, the sharpness in his gaze that made you feel seen even when you wished to remain hidden. You were drawn to him with a fascination that bordered on obsession, an allure that you couldn’t shake off no matter how hard you tried. Due of your crush, you found yourself resorting to a silly yet strangely satisfying ritual—stealing Ayato’s clothes. It was an odd way to cope with the intense feelings you harbored for him, but it was the only outlet you could manage. Each stolen item, whether a glove, a ribbon, or a sash, became a cherished possession, a physical connection to him that you could hold onto.

Each piece of clothing was a wishful reminder of him—a way to keep a part of him close, even if you could never have him completely. You would fold his garments carefully, press them to your face, and imagine the moments he had worn them, his scent of sandalwood and rain with the lingering warmth, It was your own secret fantasy. It was harmless really. A secret way of indulging in the hopeless crush you’d harbored for the head of the Kamisato clan.

However, tonight, the air felt different—charged with something you couldn’t quite place. Strangely, there weren’t any guards present that were on patrol. The estate was quiet. A little too quiet.

Still, you pressed on.

The thought of what you were about to do made your fox ears twitch in excitement. Ayato’s chambers were silent as you nudged the door open, the dim light of a single candle casting long shadows over the room.

You crept inside, eyes scanning for something to take. His haori lay draped neatly over a chair, and without hesitation, you reached for it. The silk fabric slipped through your fingers, smooth and cool to the touch. Your breath caught in your throat as you brought it close, imagining, just for a moment, what it would feel like to be wrapped in it—surrounded by him. The thought made your cheeks warm, but you pushed it away, carefully folding the haori over your arm.

It was a ridiculous thought, you knew that.

You allowed yourself a small smile. Another successful heist, another piece of him to add to your collection. You moved toward the door, your escape clear and easy.

But as you turned, something stopped you.

A faint rustle. Barely a sound, but enough to make your ears twitch with alert. You froze, eyes darting toward the corner of the room. Nothing.

You waited, heart racing in your chest, every instinct telling you to bolt but curiosity kept you rooted in place. Slowly, you scanned the room again, your gaze lingering on the bed. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes landed on a figure sitting in the shadows.

Ayato.

He was leaning casually against the headboard of his bed, his body bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. His lavender eyes, sharp and calculating, met yours with a calm intensity. Those eyes were striking—like shards of amethyst, reflecting the light in a way that made them almost glow. They watched you with a calm amusement, though the glint in them suggested he was far more aware of the situation than you were.

Your heart raced as you took in his appearance. His long, pale blue hair was neatly tied back, save for a few loose strands that framed his angular face. The moonlight accentuated his porcelain skin, making him look almost ethereal, like something out of a dream. Yet there was nothing soft about the way he held himself—he stood with a quiet strength, the grace of a nobleman who knew his power.

“You’ve been busy, haven’t you?” His voice was smooth, almost melodic, but there was an edge to it. It sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard, clutching the haori tightly. Ayato’s tall, lean frame was still relaxed, but every movement he made was deliberate. His long fingers tapped rhythmically on the edge of the bed as he spoke, drawing attention to his hands—hands that could command armies or, in this case, one mischievous kitsune.

“I… I didn’t mean—”

Ayato’s lips curled into a faint smirk, revealing a glimpse of his sharp wit. “Didn’t mean to what?” He interrupted, stepping forward, the soft rustle of his clothing barely audible. “You seem to have a habit of taking things that don’t belong to you,” he murmured, his voice low, smooth, and far too calm.

“Lord Ayato,” You squeaked softly, ears flattening as you clutched the fabric in your hands. He approached, slowly, the air between you charged with something you couldn’t name. “What were you planning to do with this, hm?” He gestured toward the ribbon in your hand, his voice soft but laced with authority. “Stealing from me, Yae Miko’s brother no less… What would she say?”

You bristled at the mention of your sister, but there was no escape now. “I just wanted—”

“To see if I’d notice?” Ayato finished for you, his amusement deepening as he tilted his head slightly. His eyes never left yours as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. Up close, you could see the slight tension in his jaw, the quiet authority he carried in every word.

His hand reached out, brushing lightly against the fabric of the haori. “I noticed,” he whispered, his voice sending a thrill down your spine. His fingers grazed yours, cool to the touch yet searing with the unspoken threat of control.

Ayato’s smile was small but devastatingly confident. “But there’s a price to pay for stealing from the Yashiro Commissioner.”

Your heart raced as he stepped even closer, the close proximity making your tail swish back and forth with nervousness and anticipation. “And I think you know what that means.”

“Get on your knees,” he commanded, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. You hesitated for just a moment, but the look in his eyes—dark, intense, and utterly unyielding—was enough to make you comply. Your legs gave way almost instinctively as you dropped to your knees, your heart pounding in your chest. The rush of adrenaline coursing through you drowned out everything except the sound of your own breathing, loud and uneven in your ears.

He took another step, his movements so fluid that his bare feet made no sound on the hardwood floor, as though he was one with the shadows. You could feel the heat radiating from him even before he stood directly in front of you, the faint scent of sandalwood and rain lingering in the air—intoxicating and impossible to ignore.

A slow, deliberate smirk tugged at the corners of his lips—a smirk that sent a thrill of both fear and excitement rushing through your body. The expression was playful, yet there was something undeniably dangerous in it, like he was silently toying with you, fully aware of the power he held over you. Up close, you could see the cool, detached amusement in his eyes—like a predator toying with prey, knowing full well you were already caught in his web.

"Take off your clothes," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. You hesitated again, but the silent disapproving look in his eyes was enough to make you move. You stood up slowly, your hands trembling as you began to undress. Reluctantly, your robes slipped off, leaving you stark naked and cold, shivering in the cold night air. Truth to be told, you were a virgin, never having the chance to even have a sexual outlet besides from fingering yourself and masturbating on rare occasions when your sister wasn’t at the shrine. Even with your crush on Ayato, you were rather reluctant and admittedly, a tad bit fearful.

He watched you, his expression unreadable, but the fire in his piercing eyes made your skin tingle with anticipation. That calm, calculating gaze burned with something primal even though his face remained impassive. When you were done, he simply gestured for you to turn around. You hesitated briefly, but his silent command left no room for question.

Your heart pounded as you moved, his authoritative presence looming behind you. “Hands on the bed,” he demanded, his voice brushing dangerously close to your ear. The soft, commanding tone sent an involuntary shiver down your spine, making you feel small beneath him.

You obeyed, placing your palms flat against the cool surface of the futon. The fabric felt grounding under your trembling fingers. You could hear him moving, the quiet rustle of his robes as he adjusted himself, his body heat brushing ever closer. The air between you felt electric, charged with tension, until—

Without warning, the first blow landed hard across your ass. The sharp, stinging pain rippled through you like a wave. You gasped, your body jerking forward from the sudden impact, your tail instinctively going taut. The burning sensation lingered, intensifying with every passing second, until all you could do was grip the sheets, struggling to steady yourself against the onslaught.

“Ayato, I don’t think I want to — Ah!”

He wasn’t done.

The second blow came even harder, the sharp impact sending a jolt of pain through your body. This time, you couldn’t suppress the cry that escaped your lips, the force of it stealing the breath from your lungs. You bit down hard on your lip, the metallic taste of blood faint on your tongue as you fought back the tears threatening to spill over.

“Count,” he ordered, his voice dangerously calm. “And call me Sir. Stay still,” he added, the warning in his tone unmistakable, “Or this will be even worse.”

You could feel the power in his command, the unspoken promise that he wouldn’t tolerate disobedience.

“Two, Sir,” you whispered, your voice trembling, doing your best to remain still despite the lingering sting.

The next few blows came in quick succession, each one more painful than the last. Your ass was on fire, the pain mingling with the arousal that was building inside you. You could feel yourself getting hard, your body betraying you as it responded to the punishment. The next few blows came in quick succession, each one landing harder than the last. Your skin burned, a searing pain spreading across your ass with every strike, and it felt like your entire body was on fire.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, and no matter how hard you fought them back, they kept coming, blurring your vision. You mutely counted the blows between occasional cries of pain and ragged gasps for air. The room spun around you, the sensation too much, too fast.

Each smack to the ass only intensified your horror at your arousal and your arousal. You could feel your dick twitching and getting stiffer as the pain resonated throughout your body. Precum was beginning to pool beneath your cock as the electric sting that the pain brought felt even more pleasurable than the last.

“T-ten,” you whispered shakily, your hands gripping the sheets as you struggled to keep from collapsing under the pressure. Finally, he paused, giving you a moment of respite to catch your breath. Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, the tension in your body slowly unwinding as the sting of the blows lingered. Your skin was still ablaze with the aftermath.

You could feel his hand resting lightly on your back, his fingers brushing against your skin in stark contrast to the harshness of his earlier actions. The touch was almost tender, a strange gentleness that sent a confusing wave of emotions through you.

Suddenly, with a swift motion, you found yourself turned around, now facing him. Despite the harsh punishment you had endured, you felt your heart race and then falter as the close proximity of Ayato became overwhelming. Your traitorous tail, betraying your true feelings, swished involuntarily with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

However that did not distract him from the hard on you sported, much to your embarrassment. His slender hand crept down your body and dwarfed your cock. He rhythmically rubbed your length, making you shudder and feel the sparks and the familiar hum of pleasure beginning to ignite.

“Yes,” you gasped as Ayato purposefully tightened his grip around your sensitive tip, never stopping his pace, “Oh—fuck—” as that mischievous hand closed around you, there was a playful air about Ayato as he let out a soft melodic laugh while mumbling something under his breath and then shifting his grip.

The next slide up was a tight, demanding fist. You threw your head back.

“Does that feel good, (Name)?” There was an amused lilt in his voice that made you flush head to toe.

The rush of blood and desire to a point low in your stomach was overwhelming. The movement was growing slicker, better , so tempting to lean fully into. You had never been this turned on.

“I don’t know, ” you cried through a strangled whine, you felt Ayato’s laughter directly through your skin, and somehow that made him suddenly very close.

There was something so exciting and arousing about it the way the man you had dreamt about, the very Yashiro Commissioner, himself was helping pleasure you. The very thought had you moaning, once, and falling slack like a puppet with cut strings. 

You were gently pushed back onto your back against the soft surface of the futon with both your legs are hoisted up, hanging against Ayato’s shoulders. Your body folded in half as you saw his head buried in your thighs, goosebumps rising on your skin as your tail hairs brushed against his chin.

“Ayato?!” You struggled for the commissioner to release his grasp on your legs, but to no avail, as he tightened his grip to hold you still. You flushed red in embarrassment, the thought of Ayato seeing everything too much to bear. 

And then you felt something warm and slimy breach past the ring of muscles, causing you to yelp in surprise.

Holy fuck. Was Ayato actually doing what you thought he was? 

You shuddered as waves of pleasure traveled up to your core. Gritting your teeth to try and contain the shameful moans from escaping you, afraid to realise that this was all a dream, afraid that Ayato would be turned off by you.

“Hnnn…Ayato….” You groaned, eyes clenching shut and face wrinkled as you bit back on a pathetic whine. All of a sudden, you jolted.

Ayato’s tongue had prodded at something deep inside you that made you melt into a puddle of arousal and shame. You unconsciously gripped his head tight with your thighs, messing up his perfect tidied hair. He had found your prostrate. And then he stopped, a gossamer thread of saliva connecting his lips to your hole as he retreated.

You couldn’t help but notice the shy mole that hid beneath his spit shiny lips — he was absolutely ethereal even with his messy and tousled hair. An unnatural pink flush decorated his fair and porcelain face and you realised that he was aroused.

By you.

The thick tension hung in the air as he silently gazed at you, the hunger in his amethyst eyes almost engulfing you on the spot like he was a man gone wild.

Shadows danced on his face as he meticulously removed his robes, still carrying himself with the same grace and dignity as if the air wasn’t imbued with the electric undercurrent of arousal and the fact that he had just tongue fucked you. He stood above you, full mast and you felt your breath get stolen away from you.

Ayato had a picture perfect physique, lean, almost like a statue carved out and had come to life. Your eyes immediately dove down to his abdomen, to be greeted with his cock, hard, already pressing against your rim, twitching invitingly. Both hands gripping your waist as he positioned himself.

“We will not stop now, (Name). Your pleas and cries will be unheard. This is a punishment.” He stared at you with an unyielding gaze, one that you were ready to challenge. “This is the lesson you must learn, the price of your rebellion,” he concluded. “One I accept.” You let out a hoarse giggle. His eyes darkened almost simultaneously as what seemed like another amused smile tugged at his lips before he let his actions speak for himself.

He did not give any mercy. Ruthlessly driving into your hips with a force like he wanted to merge into you, you felt his girth stretch and force your walls to mould into its shape. “Huh...?” Your mind went blank with pleasure, and for a while you couldn’t comprehend what happened. Your insides clenched down hard on his cock as slaps of skin punctuated the silent night air.

“Ah! Ggh- Aah! W-wait! Ungh —!” You slurred inaudibly as you felt your body rock to his merciless pace, your cock dribbling endless pre-cum uncontrollably. He promised your pleas and cries would be unheard and he served his promise, not even a single word could leave your raw throat. Only guttural whines and moans would escape your bitten lips as you fell into the throes of pleasure.

Alas, decisions were made and you could not regret what you said. Here you were, getting your deserved punishment in the form of a ruthless fucking.

Everything was too hot, too sticky and hummed with the sound of distant sobs, you groggily thought. Oh. Those were from you. Your skin was sticky with the sheen of sweat and cum and the futon beneath you was drenched. You felt unusually full, like something sloshing in your tummy. Your hole felt sore. And he wasn’t done. But you would never admit defeat….was the last thought that echoed in your muddled mind as you gave into the embrace of sleep.

“(Name)? Learnt your lesson now? Oh. The silly thief has admitted defeat.” He pushed back his sweat soaked hair as he glanced upon your slumbering form. Letting out a grunt, he pulled out of your red, swollen hole as semen immediately began dripping out your gaping rim. Humming an exasperated sigh, a fond expression appeared on his face as his lavender eyes crinkled into crescents as he gently ruffled your hair.

The little kitsune had fallen into his trap.

Sometime ago, Ayato had noticed his belongings going missing. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t deserve the title of Yashiro Commissioner. The thief clearly had no ill intent, but it became particularly vexing when he realized that the pair of gloves Ayaka had gifted him had mysteriously disappeared as well.

Then one day, by sheer coincidence, he noticed the little kitsune who had caught his eye more than once, wearing a familiar ribbon in their hair— his ribbon. And on their hands, the very gloves he had been missing. Amusement flickered in his usually composed gaze as everything clicked into place.

It seemed someone had developed quite the habit. But Ayato wasn’t the type to let such things go unaddressed. Oh no, if this little fox thought they could slip away unnoticed, they were sorely mistaken. Someone was in need of a lesson, and he would be more than happy to provide it.

So he plotted.

note: ajskskskk, I’m finally done 🙏 my first ask so I hope this was done well!

Reblogs are appreciated 🧑‍🍳

[gothamhappiness]

You are my heaven (Bruce Wayne x f!reader) Part 1

It was supposed to be a little imagine of a dark and lonely Bruce Wayne switching place with another Bruce Wayne from a parallal universe, but I wrote more than I thought. It'll be into 2 parts, except if you ask for more. <3

Warnings: no proof reading, sexual activities, language, neglecting husband and father, kinda angst/comfort

Imagine Bruce Wayne with no child, no wife (you), no friends and no more Alfred. He was all alone, making his life even harder, more cruel, more violent.

He didn’t adopt any child - not even Dick - because Alfred died quickly after Bruce became an adult. Thus, Bruce needed to take care of himself, and he didn't feel like he could look after a child. He was too tired and too depressed. He didn't want to bring any child into such a dark life.

His hands were full with Wayne Enterprises and his Batman way of life, so he also didn't make time for the Justice League. He sometimes helped them when it was about Gotham but nothing else.

And he never succeeded in getting you. He knew you. Oh yes, he knew you. He always thought that Batman would be his sole obsession, destroying him and his body. But then he met you, and he grew half insane. He needed you in his life so badly; he didn't care about anyone else. You were such a ray of sunshine in his dark existence. But you didn't want him. He was too desperate for you. You were scared of the darkness surrounding him, and you hated that rich man who wasn't trying hard enough for Gotham's poor people. He would have loved to cover you in affection and gifts, but you always escaped him.

Imagine this same Bruce Wayne being switched from places with another Bruce Wayne from another universe. This other Bruce had children, was married to you, and was friends with the Justice League. Alfred was still around. But this Bruce was neglecting everyone a little bit. This man thought he was entitled to get everything. His relationships were just alright with everyone. You more than once thought about getting a divorce actually, but you loved your life too much to let it go, even if Bruce could be a disappointment.

Imagine the lonely and desperate Bruce Wayne waking up one morning with you in the same bed as him.

At first, he believed it was all a dream, so he happily pulled you against his chest and snuggled up against you. He kissed the top of your head. When his alarm sounded out, he simply turned it off and hugged you tighter. He felt good and warm for the first time since his parents died. He completely melted in pure joy when you gently kissed his chest and neck, stroking his scarred stomach. He leaned into all your touch. He had no idea when he was going to wake up, so he wanted to enjoy this as much as possible. He didn’t want to think of the cold and empty bed that was going to greet him soon enough. He just wanted to stay there forever, cherished by you. Your scent was bringing him such comfort. He was relaxed, feeling safe and at home. This was what heaven must look like, he thought.

"Not running to work already?" You softly asked, a little bit surprised you didn't have to beg your husband for morning cuddles

"I'm good here," Bruce mumbled into your hair, his eyes closed in bliss

"What have you done to my husband?" You laughed as you straddled the man, looking down at him.

Husband? Fuck, it sounded so sweet to his ears. Bruce opened his eyes, drinking into your form. He loved how the sun was softly shining against your skin. He moved his hands on your thighs and stroked your skin. You were a goddess to him

“You’re beautiful” He whispered

You hummed and leaned to hungrily kiss him. He almost moaned against your lips. He had dreamt so many times of the feel of your mouth against his. But it was different than usual, it was better than he expected. He felt so whole. You were his soulmate. He always believed it. And feeling you like that… He promised himself that once he would be back to reality, he would find a way to seduce you. He needed you. You teasingly bit his bottom lip, and he smiled. Bruce's hands greedily moved around your body before settling on your ass. He gently squeezed it.

“Naughty” Ypu giggled, and he smiled even more

“Not my fault. You’re a goddess of love and light” He whispered

You didn’t reply. You weren’t too used to your husband talking to you like that. Your Bruce was good to you, but he never called you such things. He never watched you with such devotion in the eyes.

You sightly moved away to remove your nightgown under his watch. This Bruce had no idea how gorgeous you were naked, on top of him. He realised it was his favourite sight from now on. Gosh, what he wouldn’t do to be allowed to be greeted like that every morning of his life? He had dreamt so many times to be allowed to see you like this, to touch you like a lover and to take care of you. He was happy he was shirtless when you leaned back against him so he could feel your skin against his. He gently switched positions with you so he could get down on you. He kissed your neck, breasts, stomach, and inner thighs before settling in between your legs. He would have taken the time to kiss your legs and feet if he hadn’t been so hungry for you. It was such a vivid and nice dream. And he wanted you so badly. The way your fingers moved into his hair and tightened their hold whenever he was making you moan in pleasure became his favourite sensation. After the second orgasm he gave you this morning, he started to wonder if he truly was dreaming. You felt so real. 

He didn't have time to think more about it as you brought him closer to you. You were softly panting, as he was happily kissing and stroking your skin. You were made to be worshipped, he thought. And he would love to be your most obedient and caring servant.

A soft knock at the door startled the two of you.

"Master Bruce, do I need to cancel all the meetings you had this morning?" Alfred's voice sounded out.

Bruce froze for a few fractions of seconds before regaining his composure. Was it truly Alfred? His dream was getting nicer and nicer. However, it was hard to think when you were affectionately kissing his skin and playing with his hair, looking at him with such tenderness in your beautiful eyes. He needed all his willpower to answer Alfred back.

"I'm on my way to Wayne Enterprises, Alfred," He finally replied, and you laughed because he really didn't look like he was. 

The sound of your laughter made his chest blow with a warm feeling he didn't know. He was so deeply in love with you. He was so happy. And yet, the word “happy” didn’t feel strong enough to describe how he felt in this instant. He leaned to kiss you with pure affection before getting up, even though he would have loved to stay in bed with you.

You decided to be a good wife who cared about your husband’s work and duty, so you didn't follow in the shower, knowing Alfred would indeed need to cancel all of the meetings. You wondered what you did last night for Bruce to treat you with such passion and love this morning. You wished things would be more often like that. 

You were still lying in bed when Bruce came out of the shower. Before looking for some clothes, he went back to you, like a magnet attracted to you. He kissed your naked back before kissing your lips.

"Time for some lunch with me, hon?" you asked, clearly pushing your luck, but Bruce seemed in a very good mood today.

You were ready for him to say no, though, like he always did.

"Of course, anything you want," He whispered, smiling.

He was excited you seemed to want to spend more time with him.

You didn’t add anything, truly wondering what you did last night. He kissed you again before dressing up. You enjoyed the view from the bed. Bruce loved the warm feeling of your eyes on him. He couldn’t get enough of your attention.

He reluctantly left the room after having stolen another kiss from you. He couldn’t get enough of you.

He properly greeted Alfred and thanked him for having checked on him.

Bruce was a little bit surprised to discover so many young adults and teenagers eating breakfast in his living room, but it was giving some life to his old manor. And in a dream, you couldn’t expect everything to make sense, right? So he simply greeted everyone and asked if they all slept well, like his father did when he was a child. They all seemed stunned by the question, but they still answered. What amazed them even more was that Bruce actually listened to their answers. He waved them all goodbye, wished them a good day, and went to work.

It was time for lunch, and Bruce hadn't woken up yet. His meetings were now done, and he could take some time to think. Everything felt so real so far. Usually, in dreams, when you read something, lines are blurry or the words mean nothing or the words change all the time... But it didn't happen. Apart from the people he didn’t know in his living room, everything seemed to make sense?

He typed away his name on his Internet browser and started to read about how he was dealing with Wayne Enterprises, how he was married to you, how he adopted or took under his roof many children. Bruce Wayne seemed quite… popular. He looked for Batman's work as well. It seemed he was often with the Justice League, and he had some vigilantes under his lead. He started to think about what happened last night - before he woke up with you in his arms.

He could now remember a very bright light engulfing him while he was fighting off some criminals.

"Where are we going for lunch?" You texted him, and the notification brought him back to the present

"That Italian restaurant near Wayne Enterprises?" He offered.

He always wished he could invite you there because he quite enjoyed this place. He hoped the place existed here, but with your answer it seemed it did.

"Oh yes, it's been a while!" You quickly replied. "I'll meet you there in a few. Love you <3" You added

"Love you too, wife" Bruce sent back.

Gosh, he never thought he would be allowed to send you such words and it was making his head spin.

But Bruce was a smart man, so he started to understand that he must have taken the place of the Bruce Wayne of this world. It couldn’t be a dream because it was too detailed and realistic. It couldn’t be an illusion, because something would have felt off to him. It wouldn't have been the first time he was trapped in an illusion, he would have been able to feel it. This place... everything felt true, real.

There were only two possibilities: someone brought him to a parallel universe or he died and went to heaven. 

He hurt one of his fingers to draw blood. He couldn’t be dead if he was still bleeding, could he? So if he was going with the parallel universe, it meant… It meant that the other Bruce Wayne had this perfect little life. Fuck, he felt a deep and raw jealousy stabbing his heart: why didn't this Bruce suffer like he did? Why did this version of himself get everything he ever wished for himself? Alfred, children, you? Even Batman seemed to be doing better here. Wayne Enterprises were thriving, the biggest and most powerful firm of Gotham. 

He needed to understand what happened... So he could forever stay here. There was no way he was going back to the Hell that used to be his life. He would kill himself at the instant he would get back. How could he survive being alone again? The other Bruce was a problem because if he was alive, he would want to get back here. But fuck him. Everyone seemed so surprised by how he was acting, so he was certain that the Bruce of this world didn’t deserve their love. And he would do anything to deserve it. It was his chance to finally be happy and he wasn’t going to fuck this up.

--

Part 2

[bluessmutifyplaylist]

Separate Yandere Malleus (Hubby), Rook (Hubby), Leona (Lazy), Jamil (Babygirl), Azul (Babygirl), Jade (Menace), Floyd (Menace) and Sebek x Female!Tanjiro Reader SFW and NSFW please?

She’s kind, helpful and supportive, always willing to help others and she doesn’t expect anything in return? How cute (Naive), and after getting a taste of her kindness and care, he’s not going to let her go (And is now very territorial/protective of his soon-to-be wife/wifey)

Why can I see Floyd saying ‘Wifey’? (Rook would just make poems upon poems about how much he loves calling her his ‘Darling’ or ‘Wife’ and would violently tremble in joy if she just looks at him Top Tier Romantic/Stalker)

Sorry if that’s a lot, I’m a little knew to asking about Smut Requests (But I love my Twst Men so much, especially Malleus, Idia, Rook, Jamil and Azul, they just need hugs)

This is SMUT, and consensual, despite being Yandere.

Warnings: Yandere, Stockholm Syndrome(?), naive reader, creampie, breeding(?), unprotected sex, all characters are adults, sex with the intention of having children, slight dumbification, Malleus has 1 dick (sorry monsterfuckers), somnophilia in Malleus’s

Leona Kingscholar

You supported him even in his darkest moments, no matter if he was rude to you back. You were there, and the way you would take Cheka when he wasn’t feeling super great really had him appreciating you in a way that he never thought he could before. So, once you had graduated, he asked you if you would marry him.

Of course, this comes from a much darker place in him. He was never going to let you go, even if you refused him. Luckily for him, though, you were in tears as you accepted his proposal, happy to be marrying the love of your life. You were wed rather quickly, with it being a small ceremony, and it was the first time you had seen Leona cry because you just looked so beautiful walking down the aisle. That moment was one you would cherish forever. 

Now, your wedding night was a different story. With how hard he was thrusting up into you, making you see stars. You could feel his cock pounding your insides, and you were thanking every god in existence that you married this man. You were two orgasms in already, and you were approaching a third, while he still had his first to go.

“Look at you, my naive herbivore being fucked dumb.” Just hearing those words made you falter and stutter your movements, but it didn’t stop Leona. He was making you ride him through your orgasm, and you were so sensitive. He let out a groan as he came inside you, saying, “I’m not stopping until you are filled with my cubs, baby, so you better keep going.”

Azul Ashengrotto

He knew you were the one when he showed you his cecaelia form for the first time. Instead of being disgusted or even afraid, you used a gentle hand as you played with the tentacles that were pulling you closer and closer. Eventually, you found yourself face-to-face with the Housewarden, and you threw your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. He immediately reciprocated, and he laid claim to you that night.

Years later, you both were married, and he was a successful business owner. You were in the upper-middle class of the ocean, and you both were talking about starting a family. You were already his housewife, keeping the house clean because you both agreed on it (and because he didn’t want you going anywhere that he didn’t have control over). 

You weren’t about to complain, though, because he had you in the missionary position. It’s a bit basic, but fuck did it feel good. He was desperate; desperate to fill you up, desperate for you to feel pleasure, desperate to push himself to another climax despite the overstimulation. Your legs locked around him as he started releasing ropes of cum inside you, and you had the orgasm of your life.

“I love you, honey~” Your voice was strained after about two hours of moaning. He laid down next to you, and you laid your head on his chest. He started drawing patterns on your back, and he said I love you in return. You leaned up and gave him a kiss on the lips, and then trailed it down his chest… lower and lower, until round 2 was started.

Jade Leech

You were his the day you burst into Azul’s office and demanded that your friends be let go of their contracts. Hardly anybody would have that amount of confidence, and he found himself obsessed. He’s stalking you, he’s making sure his brother knows that you are his territory and his alone. You could always smell that he was there, as he didn’t know about your keen sense of smell. But, you didn’t mind it.

Years later, you both were married, and it was an interesting marriage. Your in-laws absolutely adored you, Floyd tolerated you, and Jade was still as obsessed with you as he was back in your NRC days. In fact, he wanted to give you a reason to stay forever, so he brought up the idea of having kids. You had many siblings back in your home world, which you never found a way back to, so it was understandable that you would want a big family yourself.

So, that’s how you got here, you being folded in half, your legs being pressed to your shoulders as he pounded you into oblivion. For the past 4 hours, you have been in every conceivable position you can think of, and this was going to be your final one. If you wanted a big family, that is exactly what you were going to get.

“Darling, how many kids do you want? Do you have an exact number? Or am I going to fuck you and keep you full of children until you say that you don’t want anymore?” Just the thought of having so many kids made you orgasm. You realized that you wanted to be with this man for the rest of your life, and you wanted to be surrounded by a family that the both of you created, and you were definitely going to enjoy the process to achieve your newfound dream.

Floyd Leech

He claimed you as his also the day you walked into Azul’s office, as no one ever had the courage, bravery, or stupidity to do it. When he went to squeeze you, you wound back enough to headbutt him, making him drop you. From that point on, you had become his new obsession. You were the only one who could beat him in a fight, so it was kind of obvious that this would happen.

As much as you Floyd simps would probably want to be married to him, he’s just not that big on marriage. He’s not that big on commitment in general. However, he knows that he’s committed to you because he wants you to be committed to him. Plus, any thoughts against marriage flew out the window when he saw you stretching and yawning.

Hours later, your neck was covered in bite marks, some a bit bloody, but he just licked it all away as his cock was buried inside your cunt. He had cum inside you about 2 times by now, and your muscles were sore from being contorted into a multitude of different positions. He had a newfound need to make you his little wifey who was stuffed with his kids 24/7.

It wasn’t until there was a bit of a bulge in your stomach from all the cum he had released when he pulled out of you. You were on the verge of unconsciousness, but you felt his arms wrap around you and pull you close. His body was warm, the final lull to sleep that you needed. It was a rare but sentimental Floyd, where he watched you, in such a vulnerable state… marriage is the best option to make sure you are his.

Jamil Viper

You were the first thing he could actually call ‘his’. He did not have to give you to Kalim, and he was never going to let that happen. In fact, during his overblot, he made his feelings known to you by keeping you at his side. However, you wanted your Jamil, not the one controlled and bound by the ink. After, in the infirmary, he asked if what you said still rang true, and that was where you had your first kiss.

Skip to years later, and you both were married. He still works for the Al-Asim family, but you couldn’t ask for a better husband. He has told you about his hesitancy towards having children of his own, as they would most likely serve the Al-Asim family as well. You understood, but you still wanted to have children with him. He told you that you could have one child for now, and see where it went from there.

Round 1 started right then and there, in your kitchen. He bent you over the counter, railing you from behind. Before, whenever you both would have sex, he would use protection. This time, though, he went in raw, and it was the first time ever that you both truly felt each other, and damn did it feel euphoric. You couldn’t even think anymore.

Of course, this was not exactly a fitting place if you were going to conceive your first child. So, he picked you up into his arms and carried you to your shared bedroom once you had your first orgasm of the night. There were many more to come (get it?) and you were barely getting started. You will not be able to walk for two days, and you will be walking out with hickies… mostly in between your thighs.

Rook Hunt

When he first discovered you, he immediately started stalking you. However, he wrote you sonnets, limericks, and poetry of other sorts for your eyes and ears. He sang your praises, and to lastly win over your heart, he serenaded you properly, under your window. You told him to wait there, and you ran downstairs and glomped him, making out with him on the ground. If it weren’t for his desire to make your first time special, you would have probably conceived a child right then and there.

However, he did wait until marriage… which was less than a year after you graduated. He had a steady income, and he already had a cottage in the forest in the Shaftlands. He always had a fantasy of a big family in a cottage, being a hunter and having his beloved wife by his side as an equal in the home. He cherished you, making sure that he provided for you in every way you needed. You became a housewife, as you would like to be there to take care of your children.

Speaking of, not a single night has passed since your wedding night where you haven’t fucked like rabbits. Sure, you both were still young, but you had been talking about this since you both were in NRC. You felt like you were ready to take on the challenge of rabbits. So, every night, you were filled with his cum. You were claimed as his, with all the hickies all over your body, with the sinful stretch his cock always seemed to give you… it was heaven in Twisted Wonderland.

It did not come as a surprise that you fell pregnant merely a few weeks after your wedding. The news made your beloved hunter so excited. Now, you could never leave him for your world. You had children that tied you to him. During your pregnancy, he is a devoted lover. He makes sure all your needs are met, and that includes the needs that are in the bedroom.

Malleus Draconia

You were his first friend outside of his retainers. You showed him kindness, and you were not scared of him at all. That alone made his draconic instincts want to kidnap you and keep you all to himself. However, he was able to hold off just a little, and you came to him on your own. The rose you had presented him with remains preserved, even years later, as it is a token of your love for him. He was a bit delulu, but aren’t we all?

It was a big request to ask you to marry him, as you would become the queen of a great nation of mostly fae folk. However, you were up to the challenge, and the people loved you. However, there was great pressure for an heir. Again, you were up to the challenge, but you discussed it with your husband first. You both concluded on a large family, so that the children wouldn’t grow up isolated (and totally not because Malleus wanted to see you round over and over again).

That night, all the staff had been advised to vacate the corridor in which your shared chambers resided, as you were not able to quiet yourself. You went a total of 8 rounds, one of which you were passed out for, but gave him the ‘okay’ to fuck you through that brief nap. Any chance of walking was out of the question. You could barely lift your head, and you had to be tended to by maidservants for a week. Unfortunately, Malleus couldn’t tend to you himself, as being the King meant that he was busy.

The entire realm rejoiced at the news of your pregnancy, and you had the world’s best doctors at your disposal. Everyone was concerned about making sure that the heir survived to take the throne, but they were also a tad worried about them being half-fae and half-human, as it meant that their lifespan would be shorter than a typical fae’s. Neither you nor your husband cared, however, as you were just happy to start a new chapter of your lives together.

Sebek Zigvolt

His pride denied him the pleasure of accepting his feelings for you in the first place, and he instead wrote anonymous poems for you that he would leave at your desk. You had no idea who it could be, so when someone claimed it was them, Sebek shouted that it was he who wrote the poems and not the plagiarist. He looked like he was about to fight the poor unfortunate soul, but you placed a kiss on his cheek, telling him that you accepted his feelings and not the other person’s.

About the topic of marriage… he would prioritize being a knight first. However, when he sees a time in his career, he will definitely get married to you. He enjoyed that he was in Briar Valley often and he just needed to train new recruits, and he would return home to you cooking dinner. As for children, the topic would blurt out of his mouth as you voiced your sadness about being lonely. You loved the idea, and as irresponsible as it was, the way you looked at him with newfound dreams in your eyes, he carried you to the bedroom and started right away.

You had discovered that Sebek had a hidden breeding kink, and he loved seeing your face as he came inside you over and over. The husband you thought you knew was giving into the primal instincts deep within him, and you were loving it. His fangs had made their mark all over your neck and shoulders, claiming you despite the ring on your finger showing you were taken.

The Zigvolt family, as well as Lilia, Silver, and King Malleus, were all excited when you announced your pregnancy. However, only the two of you would know what sinful things took place for this to happen. Know that this is not your only child, even if you don’t actually have another one. He wants at least two, and he is willing to adopt.

[maxlarens]

i promise i'm writing my max oneshot CURRENTLY but i had to get the sillies out about this really badly. australian spring/summer i love u i love u i love u!!!! also at this point i think the difference between a one shot and drabble on this account is non existent and simply based on vibes. this is only a one shot bcs it feels a bit more coherent i suppose?

LN: australia street

pairing(s): lando norris x piastri!reader, oscar piastri & piastri!reader

word count: 1.3k+

It all feels very familiar, nostalgic even— though you've never been in quite this situation before. With Oscar sure; you always rope your brother into doing things when you're in Australia again. But this is the first time that Lando's joined you.

It's nice, to be home.

Not that it's yours or Oscar's home anymore (that's not true. It always will be, no matter where in the world you jet off to). It's certainly not Lando's. It's hard to put words to the feeling, you just know it's nice.

You're driving, of course, because Oscar and Lando can never decide which of the two of them should drive. So you'd snatched the keys to the Piastri family '96 Holden Commodore and slammed the driver door behind you before either of them could say boo. Lando had snagged the passenger seat in a mad dash that you'd watched play out in the rear-view mirror, while Oscar had complained all the way to the backseat.

"Whered'ya wanna go?", you half turn your head to ask Oscar, checking your blind spot at the same time.

Oscar hums as he thinks. You can feel Lando's eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.

"Do you remember that fish and chips shop—"

You do, "Where Dad used to take us? Yeah, it closed down," then you add, "Besides, Lando hates fish. Jeez, Osc."

"Ah fuck," Oscar groans, "That sucks."

Lando makes a noise, indignant, "I can't believe you forgot. It's my one thing."

Oscar rolls his eyes, "It's not your one thing, Lando. You have plenty of things."

They start to bicker, devolving into an argument that you only understand about half of, about pet peeves and the things the other one does that get on the other’s nerves. You chime in a few times to agree about Oscar’s annoying habits, the things you'd grown up complaining to your Mum about. Quietly to yourself, you decide on a route to an old Italian place you know is still kicking around— they won't mind.

You roll your window down, feel the balmy spring breeze in your hair, on your face. It smells like the bloom of jasmine flowers, of warmth, of the smoke of people BBQ-ing in their backyards. You breathe deeply, absently aware of the petered-out conversation. Oscar dozing in the backseat like he always does. Lando looking out the other window, watching gum trees and bottlebrush on the sides of the road. 'M looking for koala’s he'd said the other day, which had made you laugh. You'd been tempted to tell him about drop bears, but you're sure that Daniel had already warned him of the dangers.

"Do you miss it here?", Lando asks suddenly.

"Mm," you affirm, "I do."

"A lot?"

You shrug at the question, not sure why he's pressing it, "Sure, Lan."

"Then why do you travel with Oscar?", you spare a glance at him, he's fiddling with a bracelet on his wrist, the one you'd made him that matched the one you'd made Oscar that matched the one you wore, "Don't you want to, y'know, settle down here?"

You raise an eyebrow, scoff a little, "God, I'm not an old maid, dude. I'm not ready to pop out babies yet. Far out."

"No, no," he's blushing, you know he is, you don't even need to check, his tan cheeks growing a little darker, redder, "Fuck. That's not what I meant. You know what I meant."

You snicker. You do. But Lando is fun to rile up.

A latent sigh leaves your mouth, "I dunno," you admit, "It's my favourite place. But I have the rest of my life to come back, and besides, it's more special like this. I appreciate it more when I'm only here for a short time."

Lando hums, turning your words over in his head. You think he may be about to say something else—

"Do you like it here, Lan?"

You're not sure why you ask. No, you are. There's this fantasy that keeps floating around in your head. Little bits of it have been coming true on this trip. Lando standing in the garage with your Dad, talking about project cars and then showing him grease covered parts, explaining where they'll eventually end up. Your Mum roping you, Lando and Oscar into helping her cut vegetables at the kitchen counter. Your younger sisters giving you loaded looks behind Lando's back, you trying to pretend you have no idea what they mean by them. It's a pipedream, it's weird and you need to stop doing it.

But you can't. Sometimes, you look at Lando and your thoughts just pick up and run away with themselves.

Lando nods in answer to your question, "'Course. It's very," he trails off, fingers finding the beads on his bracelet again, he hums, "It's very you. Hm, does that make sense?"

You feel warm all of a sudden. Something creeps up your neck, settles at the base of your skull. You blink a few times, remind yourself to focus on the road.

You skitter out a laugh, an awkward thing, you're trying not to look at him, your hands tight on the wheel, "Yeah— uh— it does. I s'pose."

You lapse into silence for a short while. The sky is eggshell orange and purple and red, stretching out in front of you. Punctuated by the star-brightness of the street lights, terracotta tiled roofs and the shadowed branches of towering Eucalyptus trees. It fills you with a feeling you can't name— there's nothing else quite like it out there. Not in London, not in Monaco, not in any of the many other cities you've traveled to or lived in for a stint.

They're all gorgeous and interesting in their own right, but they don't live up to the special peculiarities of suburban Australia. The flash of a possum's eyes where it's skittering across a powerline. The faint sounds of kookaburras laughing as dusk falls. The glow of families watching TV in living rooms coming through screen doors left unlocked. Old men tinkering in wide open garages. Wheelie bins with red and yellow lids out on the curb— cricket stumps painted on the sides.

It’s special. In the way that home is always special.

Then Lando says, apropos of nothing, “Pretty.”

“Huh.”

He shrugs, gestures around at the neighbourhood, “It’s pretty. Warm too. I can see why your parents live here. Raised you guys here. I can see myself doing that.”

You decide not to tell him about the bipolarity of Melbourne weather. Cold to hot to wet to dry to gusty all in a few hours. You let him enjoy the rare consistent spring day. And you try not think about what he’s saying, what he’s admitting. You try not to think about what you might be admitting, driving him through streets you used to play in, to places you used to go with your family, talking about settling down, like it’s on the horizon anytime soon.

It’s not— you’ve not met anyone to settle down with.

At least you don’t think you have.

It’s certainly not Lando, in the passenger seat of the old family car, fresh off a day of meeting your grandparents for fuckssake and taking a tour of your childhood bedroom. Laughing at your old boyband posters and the teenage girl shrine you’d kept to Niki Lauda. It can’t be Lando, who you turn to when you can’t turn to your brother, who gives you his hoodies when you’re cold even though he’s colder, who’s come on a bloody trip to Australia in his four week break because you’d said you wouldn’t know what to do without him for that long.

It can’t. It’s not.

He’s talking in hypotheticals and you’re getting carried away with yourself again. Like you always do.

listened to this playlist while writing😌

[theemporium]

“You’re shitting me, right?”

“Nope.”

“Max—”

“What?” 

“You have your own jet. How the fuck are you not a part of the mile high club?”

Max frowned a little before shrugging. “It isn’t exactly my priority when I’m on a plane, schat.”

There were many perks you learnt that existed as a Formula One driver after you found yourself in a relationship with two of the best drivers in the world. From invitations to countless exclusive events to brand deals with high-end designers, from travelling the world for their job to having a comfy paycheck to be the best of the best. It was a whole new world your boyfriends introduced you to, and it never failed to make you head spin no matter how long you had been dating them.

But the materialistic perks were some of the easiest to spot—the prime example being the fact Max had his own jet that he travelled in when he flew around the world for the different races.

It had been another one of those races that you were currently flying out to. It had just been the three of you for the long haul flight and the boys had been trying everything in their power to stay awake for a few more hours so they wouldn’t fall victim to horrendous jet lag by the time they landed.

You had decided to try passing some time with games. But UNO was quickly abandoned when Lando kept trying to wind Max up with ‘+4’ cards. And ‘truth or dare’ was a bit pointless when you were stuck in the sky. You didn’t really want to start a full ass game of Monopoly (or question why in loving fuck one of the boys brought it in the first place), otherwise you’d be fast asleep before either of them. And every round of ‘two truths and a lie’ lasted less than a few seconds because you knew each other well.

You were left with a game of ‘never have I ever’ but it slowly stopped being a game, and somehow became some weird competition between the boys to try to outdo one another. Which, to be fair, was very amusing for you to watch. 

Until Max had dropped the bomb on you and Lando that he had never had sex on a plane. Ever.

“But,” you paused before gesturing to the plane around you. “You have the perfect setting!”

“The setting is always a plane,” Max stated bluntly. 

“Yeah but usually you’re both locked in a little bathroom, trying to be quiet and not break anything because you’re literally fucking in a box,” Lando jumped in.

Max shot him a look.

“Hey, just talking from experience,” Lando said as he lifted his hands. 

“But you have the whole fucking jet to yourself,” you continued. “You could fuck as much as you please! In any position you want!” 

He raised his brows in amusement. “Thought about it a lot?”

“Yes,” you replied without a moment of hesitation. “You don’t think about fucking us on a plane?”

“It isn’t the first place my mind goes to,” Max confessed with a shrug.

Lando’s eyes narrowed slightly, as though he was lost in thought. “Do you wanna fuck us on a plane?”

Max paused. “Like right now?”

“We need to preoccupy ourselves,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, trying to bite back the grin that was growing on his lips. “I can think of a few things we could do.”

Your grin matched his, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “What do you say, baby? Wanna join the club?”

“We’ll teach you the ropes,” Lando added teasingly. 

Ten minutes. The teasing and the taunting and the goading lasted all of ten minutes before Max had you both wrapped around his finger. Because despite your big mouths and all your talk, it took one glance and a hand tugging your hair back before you were putty in Max’s hands, ready to comply and obey with whatever he wanted because he always seemed to be in control.

“Is this what you wanted, schat?” Max groaned as he gripped your hips, bouncing you back on his dick at the speed he desired. His cock was deep inside you, pressing against the spot that made you squirm and moan—though your mouth was otherwise preoccupied. “Wanted me to fuck you on my private jet? Wanted to show my staff what a fucking slut the two of you are?”

“Shit,” Lando whined, his hands tugging on his curls as his cock hit the back of your throat. “Max—”

“Hold it,” Max gritted out, his hands tightening on your waist as his chest heaved with soft pants. “Did I say you could come?”

“But—” Lando started, only to be cut off by his own moans.

“I said no,” Max huffed out with a shake of his head, his chin tucked into his chest as he watched the way your greedy pussy took his cock with such ease. The debauched noises echoing through the cabin only seemed to egg him on further. “Don’t be a fucking brat.”

“Please,” Lando cried, his hips bucking up into your mouth as you gagged and choked.

“Both of you are so fucking impatient,” Max grumbled as he squeezed the fat of your ass. “So quick to brag and cry. And now look at you. Two fucking whores.”

“Just for you,” Lando muttered out breathlessly. 

“Of course you are. All mine. All fucking mine.” Max groaned, his voice low and rough as he felt a rush of pleasure run down his spine. “And mine to fucking control. You come when I say you come, and I don’t think either of you deserve it yet.”

You whined, the sound muffled and pathetic with Lando’s cock down your throat, but it was enough to warrant a slap to your ass. 

“Careful, schat. Or I won’t let you come until the plane lands.”

.

[samkerrworshipper]

your moms are here

leah williamson x reader, jordan nobbs x reader, (wobbs as coparents)

part 5 of beautiful girl series pt.1 -> pt.2 -> pt.3 -> pt.4

warnings: if your any bit emotionally unstable this isn’t for u x

You didn’t expect to wake up, let alone wake up warm and in a fraction of the amount of pain you’d been in the last time you’d been conscious enough to feel anything.

Your eyes were still crammed shut, your chest still hurt, your body was still shaking, but you felt better, less like you were dangling on the cliff of life and death, you weren’t sure where you were, or if you were even alive.

Was this they greater beyond?

Was it the warmth of death’s embrace?

You knew it wasn’t, because there was still the dull pain and the tension all over your body. You didn’t believe that life after death was anything, that it was actually some overwhelming cloud of happiness and perfection, but if it did exist, if there was some kind of heaven, this wasn’t it.

You thought about the places you could be, in bed at Matt’s house, in bed at your mom’s house, in bed at some kidnappers house, in bed at rehab.

You quickly eliminated each option, the bed and sheets weren’t the same from your bed or Matt’s, kidnappers didn’t normally concern themselves with comfortability, and in your mind rehab would have more detoxing, screaming, junkies.

Out of pure fear, you tried to crack your eyes open, it wasn’t easy, but with some concentration that made your forehead feel like it was being split open, you managed to slowly crack your right eye open. There was sleep and tears keeping your eyelashes stuck together, which made it far harder then it should have been, the blinding white light directly above your head wasn’t much help either.

You took back what you thought, everything hurt.

From your toenails to the follicles on top of your head, it felt like every single nerve in your body was being plucked and split in half.

Your whole body curled itself up into a ball, it made the shaking a little bit less like your body was being exorcised.

You realised very quickly as your eye became accustomed to the light around you that you were in the last place you possibly wanted to be.

You should have clocked on to it, based on the persistent beeping noise coming from above you and the cords that were connected to your arm.

They’d dropped you off out the front of a fucking hospital.

Or someone had found you and called a ambulance.

Or your moms had taken you to the hospital.

Or you were in some sick twisted dream.

With the rest of the energy that was left in your body you managed to crack open your other eye, it wasn’t easy, but it helped you feel more aware of your surroundings.

It was a surprisingly quiet hospital, or at least by your standards.

You tried to sit up, but it was no use, your body was completely spent, all of the energy felt like it had been completely pulled from your body.

Withdrawals, maybe.

Or the reaction of the opioid with the stimulant.

Those were your best guesses as to how you’d ended up feeling like death.

You didn’t have to wait long to find out, the curtain which was keeping you contained from the rest of the ER was opened up, a nurse waltzing her way over to your bedside.

You couldn’t help but feel a little bit vulnerable, you could hardly move your body and had a lot less control over it then you would have liked.

“Miss dump and run awakens.”

Dump and run.

You couldn’t decide whether or not you were mad with your friends, on one hand, it was smart of them to drop you off at an er. They had no medical knowledge, they were druggies, they didn’t need a dead body on their hands. On the other hand, they’d left you, deserted you, left you for dead.

The nurse moved to your IV and monitor, looking at the different flashing numbers and writing them down on her clipboard, before she looked down and addressed you properly.

“Had a lot of drugs in your system for such a wee thing like yourself. Your friends were smart to drop you here, you would have been as good as dead with that much meth in your system for any longer. I’ve seen a lot of overdoses in my day, you might just take the cake though, darlin’.”

Overdose?

A fucking overdose?

You’d been doing drugs for months now, meth, a smidge of coke, little bits of molly and LSD, a little sprinkle of heroin, opioids a couple of times, plenty of weed. Not once had you ever overdosed, you’d never seen someone overdose, you’d come to think it was urban myth.

You’d hardly taken anything, two shoot ups within a couple of hours of each other, it wasn’t something you’d done before but it also wasn’t exorbitant or something you hadn’t seen other people do.

“Sorry, an overdose?”

You were still shaking, it was less obvious underneath the shitty hospital blanket that was on top of you, but you were still shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“Yup, think you had more meth in your blood stream then blood. The saline should flush it all out until your guardians get here.”

Guardians?

What?

What the actual fuck was this nightmare that you were stuck in.

“Sorry, my guardians?”

The nurse looked back down at her clipboard.

“Ms Williamson and Ms Nobbs? We’re obligated to call emergency contacts in life threatening circumstances and those were the ones that were on your phone, they should be here soon enough.”

You didn’t care that you couldn’t moved, you needed to leave.

“I want to discharge, now.”

The nurse looked at you like you had gone silly, like you were in a psychiatric ward instead of the emergency one.

“You’re underage, and you’d have to sign a waiver saying that you are aware you’re going against doctors orders, a lot of paperwork, and you’d actually have to be strong enough to walk out of here, which I can promise you is not happening any time soon,”

The nurse pointed to the IV bag.

“There’s still another hour or so left on this, until it’s done that dizzines your experiencing and the weakness isn’t going to pass. You’re frighteningly dehydrated and full of methamphetamines.”

Fuck.

You were so fucking fucked.

“Please, I’ll sign whatever forms, just let me leave, please.”

You didn’t know how you planned to leave, considering you weren’t even mobile enough to roll onto your back to look at the nurse properly, eye to eye.

“You get up and walk to my desk where the papers are and you can leave, how’s that sound, sweetheart?”

You want to yell directly into her face and tell her to let you fucking leave. But you don’t, you have a inch of self-respect that prevents you from doing it.

“Please.”

You’ve never liked to beg, you did enough of it during your youth, begging for your mom to not leave you home alone every night, begging for things to get better, begging for your life to get better, and it had. Jordan and Leah had introduced you to a whole new world, a beautiful world, the kind of world you’d read about as a child, they’d given you anything and everything you’d wanted growing up. You’d become gracious, but promised yourself that you’d never beg in the same way that you always had, but when your life had been turned upside down, you’d reverted back to your old ways.

“I have a daughter of my own, y’know, around your age. If she was in your situation all I would care about is her being okay, that’s whats most important.”

You rolled your eyes, you were certain of one things, your moms would be mad, you were surprised they were coming at all, everyone had deserted you, it felt like you had nobody.

“Can i get something for the pain?”

You were intelligent enough to know that the iv was detoxing you at a rapid rate, whilst it was saving your life, it also meant that you were going to be sent into withdrawals a lot faster then you should have. You weren’t going to get your hands on meth, clearly. So you needed a substitute, luckily, you were currently sitting in a hospital which was filled with every single painkiller known to man.

“Good try honey, a part from the fact that your bloodstream and body couldn’t even handle a tylenol at the minute, I’m also not going to give an addict drugs, just hang in honey, the chest pain and muscle cramps should start to pass soon.”

Just as she was finishing, your eyes darted to the emergency room doors, which were now hanging open as your two moms and Lia walked through the doors.

Jordan was dressed in the same sweats she’d been in all morning, her face was red and puffy, eyes bloodshot and still full of tears.

Leah looked more put together, she had a pair of slacks on and a clean shirt, her eyes were as red as Jordan’s but she appeared to have put on more of a brave face.

Your eyes darted everywhere, looking for some kind of escape, or to stop their fast steps that were slowly getting closer to you with every millisecond that passed.

There was no hope for you.

If the drugs hadn’t killed you then your moms would.

Leah managed to cross into your makeshift room first, her eyes flashing across every inch of your body. You expected her to ask the nurse a question, or yell at you, but she didn’t.

She walked straight to your bedside, your nurse moving out of the way, and without you being aware of what was happening, wrapped her arms around your body.

You didn’t hug your moms a lot anymore.

In the start, when you’d started out with them, it had taken a lot of effort from them to make you trust them with that kind of contact, but eventually, you’d become reliant on their hugs, the shoulder pats, the little motherly touches here and there that you’d never gotten as a kid.

When they’d broken up, the hugs and contact had faded, similarly to the love in the house, it was like everything personal, everything that made Leah’s house a home had been drained.

“You’re okay, thank god you’re okay.”

Leah’s body lingered on your own body long enough for Jordan’s arms to wrap around your body on the other side of you.

You hadn’t been hugged by the both of them in over a year, you felt guilty for wishing that this wouldn’t be a one time thing, that you could have this whenever you wanted. That wasn’t your life though, it wasn’t your reality, it wasn’t reality.

You let yourself relax, you knew you’d regret it when the moment ended, it’d make it that much harder to realise you couldn’t have this, but you let yourself enjoy it whilst you had it.

It lasted longer than you’d thought, it was hard, Jordan hugs were addictive. You didn’t get them a lot anymore, occasionally you’d get a hug from Leah, once every blue moon when she wanted one, but it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t body on body, feelings on feelings, love on love.

You didn’t know if you knew what love felt like anymore, over the years it had been distorted, you were certain that love could only be given to a person in transaction. It’s why you’d tried to be perfect, the perfect kid, the perfect student, the perfect player. You’d given up when Jordan had left, it didn’t matter anymore, there wasn’t enough love to be shared around between you and Leah. Love to you, was a privilege, not something that everyone had extra of. You had to earn love, or at keast that;s how you’d always seen it. You’d never been good enough for your own parents, that’s how you’d ended up with Jordan and Leah, from them you’d always craved that love, the love you’d never gotten and you’d been willing to do anything for it, you still were.

“We love you so much chicky, so much.”

You enjoyed the little murmurs, the little whispers in your ears that were so heartfelt and meaningful that you could feel the tears of your moms dripping down each side of your neck.

All good things come to and end, but it didn’t make it any easier.

Leah, unsurprisingly was the first to turn to your nurse.

“They didn’t tell me anything on the phone, just that we needed to come here, she’s okay?”

Your nurse nodded at your mom.

“Yes ma’am, we’re flushing her out right now. She wants to discharge herself, it’s going against medical advice but she’s free to once she’d done with her iv and she’s regained some strength.”

Jordan sat down on the bed next to you, leaving a big enough gap of space that you could still feel her presence but weren’t pressed up against her, she was listening just intently as Leah to the nurse.

“Flushing her out? Of what?”

Fuck.

You’d never ever, in your life, known Leah to not be inquisitive, she needed and wanted answers to everything, but this was worrying you. There were things you kept a secret for a reason.

“Methamphetamines, she had a pretty high amount circulating in her body. I can get the doctor to come and talk to you about it. Her body had built up a decent tolerance, she took it a lot better than you or I would. Apart from that she’s in fairly good condition, although the doctor did have some concerns about some scratches and bruises that seemed consistent with domestic or sexual abuse.”

You watched, in a series of moments, your mothers face fall more and more as the nurse kept speaking. Leah was pretty good at having a poker face, she had to for her job, she also kept a brave face for life though. You’d hardly seen a break in her resolve since her injury but right now, she was keeping nothing hidden. You felt Jordan’s body go rigid behind you as well, you knew shit was about to get real.

You considered strangling yourself with the blanket on top of you, or drowning yourself in the toilet bowl in the adjacent bathroom. It sounded better than the conversation that was about to occur.

“You’re daughter is very lucky, stupid, but lucky. Her friends ditched her at the front door, if they had of been any later she’d be in far worse condition. She was here just quick enough for us to counteract the drugs and stop them from effecting her mental cognition. Her friends shouldn’t have ditched her, or let her get that far gone, but you should be grateful they were at least smart enough to take her somewhere she could get help. I’m going to go find the doctor, he can talk to you about different option you have, and I’ll leave you guys to talk for a little bit, okay?”

Leah nodded, dumbfoundedly, trying her best to smile at the nurse as she made her way towards the exit of your room, closing the curtains and then the door.

Leah pivoted as soon as she was gone, looking down at you with so much horror and pain that you could feel it in your gut.

“Meth, bubba? You’ve been doing meth?”

The sentence hung in the air for a few seconds, filling up all of the space, you hoped that after a couple of seconds that it would disappear, like it had never been said.

“It’s not a big deal.”

You should have chosen your words more precisely, but you were finding it hard to think with all of the drug haze clouding your head.

“Not a big deal? You told me it was the vape, then it was weed, then it was coke and now iut’s fucking meth? There is nothing not big about that bubba. This isn’t just something you can do for fun, this isn’t okay, this is serious. You could die from this. You almost did. You’re 17. 17 year olds aren’t supposed to die. Why bubba? What made you want to do this, not just to yourself but to your life, to everyone. Do you know how scared your mother and I have been. The whole team has been calling up hospitals and roaming the streets looking for you. We’ve been terrified.”

Guilt was one of the best ways to make a person admit they were wrong, you knew it, you’d watched your moms manipulate each other during the break up the same way. They’d use something against the other until it spiralled into a massive fight which would end with someone sleeping at a teammates house or on the couch.

“I’m sorry, okay? Can we just go home? I want to go home.”

Another poor choice in words apparently by the look on Leah’s face.

“No we can’t just go home, we need to talk about this bubba, you overdosed on meth. You have a tolerance for it, which means you’ve been using it for a while. You have bruises and you’re in a hospital bed unable to move. You’re addicted to a drug that I would have thought you’d have absolutely no interest in. You’ve got a disease bubba, you’ve got an addiction and we’re going to work it out, we’ll fix it.”

Similar to being a control freak, Leah was also a person who wanted to fix everything. No problem was big enough for her, apparently your whole life wasn’t either.

“Mom this isn’t a disease, this isn’t like fucking cancer or something. I made a choice, I have it under control, this is my life. I’m choosing to live it this way.”

Your mom looks like she’s about to lose her shit.

“I understand that you think you have this under control and that you think this is the best way to be living your life but it fucking isn’t. I understand you’re struggling, but this isn’t okay, you’re a kid, you can;t be doing this.”

Worst thing you can tell a addict, you can’t take drugs.

Because yes you most certainly can, it’s a free motherfucking country.

“I understand what I’m doing, it doesn’t make me a bad person or any different from your or mama. You don’t like who i am anymore, not since i quit football and stopped being who you wanted me to be, I’ve changed and you have to accept that, this is me mom, this is who I am.”

Leah looked flabbergasted.

“You want me to just nod my head and accept my daughter is a junkie, right? That’s the permission you are seeking, you aren’t going to get it bubba, this isn’t anywhere near okay. This isn’t you, people change, I change, you’re allowed to be different then how you were a couple of years ago. Drugs isn’t how you change yourself, it’s not how you reinvent yourself. You can’t live your whole fucking life like this because guess what, you’ll end up dead. Addiction is a degenerative disease, it is incurable, it is deadly, it’s no fucking different from cancer and you’ve got it. I understand that, you’ve got an addiction, we’ll figure it out. I am not going to enable you to keep abusing a substance that will kill you. You’ve got a death wish and I won’t sit by and allow it to happen. I thought I was cool, I thought it was good of me to be accepting that you’re a teenager and you were going to do stupud stuff, I let you get away with much more than I should have. I’m sorry, I’m sorry that if I gave you to much space that you felt the need to do this, I’m sorry that I wasn’t a good enough parent to see the warning signs, but I won’t let you kill yourself bubba, not when I can stop it from happening.”

Jordan was still silent, as passive as ever, she’d always taken a backseat, the silent enabler.

��You’ve got no fucking idea what I’m going through, I’m sorry I scared you, but I don’t have to explain my actions to you, you understand nothing about what I’m dealing with.”

The first time you sweared in the presence of Leah and Jordan was your second day with them. You didn’t even know what swearing was, you’d just picked up words that had been said as you’d been growing up. You hadn’t hesitated to throw a ‘fuck’ out when you’d stubbed your foot on the kitchen bench as you’d been pouring yourself a glass of water.

You’d known something was wrong though when you’d turned around to sit back down at the table with Leah and Jordan and both of them looked like they’d seen a ghost.

You’d hardly swore after that, to your core, you were a people pleaser, you didn’t like to be in trouble, right now though it was like everything you’d grown up with was exiting your body. You felt like a monster, like a version of yourself you didn’t know and it was hard, it was really fucking hard. You didn’t want to break down, you were scared that if you were vulnerable you’d be taken advantage of again, the same way that you friends had, so you put up your won shields.

“I don’t need to know what you’re going through to know that this isn’t good. We’ll get you into rehab, we’ll get you clean, we’re here for you, right Jords?”

You could feel Jordan nodding from behind you.

“I’m not going to rehab, fuck no.”

Leah was pacing, it was what she did when she was stressed, it was a clear tell.

“So, I’m just supposed to allow you back into my house, knowing that you’ve been hiding an addiction from me for months, trust that my drug addicted child will stay clean on her own account and be willing to go through withdrawals and not give in to her own addiction. Do you think I don’t love you, is that it? Because right now you’re telling me that I am expected to allow my daughter to use drugs, lethal drugs that almsot killed her, under my roof, allow you to live your life as you want it, and leave you alone. As a person who loves you and has loved your for the past 9 years of your life, are you actually hearing what you are saying?”

Love.

It was a curious thing, your mother thought she loved you, or at least she felt like she did. Ut was funny how to you, you felt the exact opposite way.

“So what you’re doing this to show me you love me or something? Reality check, you haven’t given a fucking shit about me in months, it’s all about Lia, all about your knee. I’m not selfish enough to expect that you can focus on me whilst your recovering but don’t try and act like you’ve been loving and caring about me this whole time when you haven’t.”

Leah sits herself down, she can only handle so long on her feet nowadays.

“Maybe you should coem stay with me, come to rehab in Birmingham. Bubba, your mom is still struggling.”

You’re more than shocked to hear Jordan pipe up, it reignites something else in you.

“No you don’t get to have a fucking say. You left me, you don’t text anymore, you don’t call. I’m only your kid when it’s convenient for you, which is about 10 days every year. You don’t even try with me, you washed your hands of me a year ago and you don’t get to come back now. You gave me up.”

Your sick of being the understanding one, sick of being the one everybody could burden with their problems, sick of being the fucking scapegoat in every situation.

“Look kid, i think you need to have some more respect for your mothers.”

Lia.

Fucking Lia and her audacity and her fucking butting into all of your family problems.

“No you don’t get a fucking say, you move in a couple of months ago to support my mom and all of a sudden your my third fucking parent. You’ve got nothing to do with me, You don’t get to have a say in anything, you aren’t apart of this fucking family.”

Leah looked like she was having about 30 wars with herself inside of her head, like she was struggling to figure out which side of her brain she should side with.

“Bubba, we’ve talked about this, you need to be respectful to Lia.”

You were sick of everybody telling you that you had to respect people, that you had to follow fucking rules. They wondered why you’d spiralled.

“No, fuck this, fuck you, fuck jordan, fuck everything. I made a series of decisions, ones that I am happy with, this is how I am living my life.”

Leah took a deep breath, before turning to face you.

It was hard looking at her eye to eye, you were putting her through a lot right now, and a part of you deep down felt bad about it. You didn’t want to make your mom feel in pain, you didn’t want her to suffer, it was the last thing you wanted. Without her, you’d be as good as nothing, you’d have absolutely nothing. But you were lashing out, you were as frantic as your sore chest and pumping heart would let you be.

“Bubba. You don’t seen what’s wrong. I do, Jordan and I are sitting here talking to a girl that we don’t know. This isn’t our daughter, this isn’t the girl we’ve raised. You’re going to go to rehab, you’re going to detox, you’re going to get properly clean and once you are we’ll have this conversation again, see if you have a different perspective.”

You didn’t want to have this conversation when you were clean, you wanted to have it now.

“No. If you gave a shit about me, like you’re acting to, you wouldn’t have fucking broken up in the first place. You wouldn’t have torn my life apart, you wouldn’t have done this to me. You wouldn’t have stopped cring about me, you wouldn’t have stopped loving me. Let me go, let me leave. You fucking did this to me and if you want to make it up to me you’ll let me leave.”

You saw Leah’s face fall to another level.

“I can’t do that bubba.”

You felt like you were spinning out of control, like you were in a car that had just fallen over a cliff, and you were slowly doing flip after flip as the car catapulted towards the rocks at the bottom.

“Mom, just let me leave, let me go, please mom, let me leave, let me fucking leave.”

Leah just shook her head at you.

“Bubba, I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, it might not ever. I know me and your mom breaking up was hard for you, you didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry for that, but neither of us could handle keeping you in a household without love, and I know it’s different now, I’m so sorry for that, I wish we could go back. But we can’t, me and your mom don’t love each other more, we can’t just love each other. We love you though, we love you more then anything else. We would both pick you above anybody in the world, you’re our beautiful little girl, you’re our girl. You’ll never not be our daughter. We chose you years ago and we would choose you again today, everyday, for the rest of our lives. No matter what you do.”

There are big tears dripping down your moms face, you’ve seen her cry plenty in your life, Leah Williamson is known to be an emotional person, but not like this, not with this much anguish and pain in her face, never like this.

“You don’t love me, you can’t fucking love me, I’m not like either of you. I break people apart, I’m a catalyst, everywhere I go, I tear people a part, I wreck their lives. I wrecked my parents, I wrecked you guys relationship, I wrecked my own life. I’m a fucking semi-truck that bulldozes through peoples lives, just let me leave and you guys can be happy again.”

Leah takes a double take, her fists are white from how hard they are holding onto the arms of the chair she’s sat in. You’re surprised she doesn’t yell back at you, but instead of meeting your aggression with an equal amount, she composes herself.

“Bubba, do you know how much I love you, how much your mama and I love you? If you could take all of the words in the english language, it still wouldn’t be enough to describe how much we love you. And if you could gather all of those words together, it still wouldn’t be enough. What we feel for you is everything. I love you more than everything. You don’t pull people a part, you’ve made your mama and I happier than we ever would have been without you. You light up our lives everyday, I know it doesn’t feel like it, but just seeing you everyday is my biggest achievement, it’s the best part of my day. Seeing you grow up to be the person Jord and I raised will forever be the best part of my life. You didn’t tear us apart, if anything you were what kept us together for so long, because being around you made us both so happy, that all of our problems didn’t matter as much. Eventually it was too much though, it had nothing to do with you, it never will, it never did. You’re the light in our life, you are our whole universe. We just want you to be okay, you don’t have to be who you were, people change, but you need to be okay. You’re not okay right now, there isn’t anything wrong with that, it’s okay to not be okay, but me and your mama will find you help if you don’t seek it our yourself. You need to go to rehab, you can’t live your life like this, it isn’t sustainable. Drugs ruin peoples lives. I don’t need to throw stats at you for you to understand the magnitude of drug related deaths, because that’s how this will end, with you dead. You’ve been through so much bubba, you’re so strong, but you don’t always have to be strong, you’re allowed to break down, you’re allowed to have bad days. But drugs isn’t a way to fix that, it’s not a safe coping mechanism, you can’t rely on drugs to solve every problem that you have. You need to get clean. We love you so much, our beautiful girl.”

Everything hurts, your heart, your head, your body. Your eyes and head aren’t clear, it’s like there is a fuzzy haze covering everything, but you believe what Leah is telling you, she’s telling you the honest truth, and you can’t deny that.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐂𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘.

DAY SIX OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: slasher au (still takes place in the tlou'verse) + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, soft dark fic, horror, murder mystery

summary: bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in jackson. as the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.

word count: 10k (i don't know what happened)

warnings: dubcon at the end, knife kink, descriptive canon typical violence, blood & mild gore, grief and death, an unpleasant guy hitting on you, murder, face-sitting, throat-fucking, mutual oral sex (69), dirty talk, possessive!joel, exhibitionism (tommy watches very briefly, he also kisses you in a platonic way), sex in the woods, piv, Joel is actually quite nice if you exclude the murders, mild breeding kink, size kink, little bit of blood kink

a/n: the owl mask joel wears in this to hide who he is is inspired by @softlyspector's post about the tawny owl mug joel uses in tlou part 2 which I still get sad if I think about it for too long 😭

Bodies have been dropping dead all around you long before the outbreak. 

Maybe not in the everyone-you-know-is-getting-infected-and-killing-people type of way, but more so in a death-never-felt-like-a-stranger-to-you sort of way. Yet, you still don’t know how to deal with death. Your grief is as violent as a butterfly flapping its wings; the strength of it non-existent but you never know where, or when, it’ll cause a storm. 

First, it was your grade school teacher. You didn’t have a particularly strong bond with her but you did like her. You still remember how your friend's voice quaked as she gave you the news on a landline. You couldn’t believe it and had to accuse her of making a joke, even though you knew she would never joke about something like this. Then your dad took the phone from you and you just assumed your friend's mom did the same. The next week, when you went back to school and the funeral was now behind all the children in the classroom, the custodian cut the last tablecloth your teacher had used for her desk and gave a piece to each and every one of you. It was a vibrant orange cloth with daisies scattered around – ugly, but you still cherished it.

Then it was your pets, grandparents – there was also the time when your pet-crazed neighbor adopted another smaller dog while she still had two untrained, over-energized dogs, and the two twins ripped the other dog apart. You had seen the carnage. By some miracle, that small, fluffy dog named Sugar was still breathing, alive. You had held a blood bag over the dog's head, hoping that the small animal wouldn't die.

She didn’t die that day, but it sure as hell left a scar on you. 

As a kid, you never seemed to quite grasp the ways of grieving. You didn’t get angry. You didn’t cry. You just. . thought about it. However, the emotions came differently when you became an adult. Now when someone close to you died, you felt it more violently, oddly enough you still fought against the tears and only cried when you were alone. 

On Outbreak Day, you lost everything. 

Your family, your friends—your life, now it was all about survival, but survival towards what, you didn’t know. You killed for it, fought for it. Yet every move you made felt automatic like you were wired to at least try and survive — to wait it out and not be left behind when civilization rebuilt itself once more.

You made some friends along the way and lost some friends too. You locked their faces and their memories in your heart, only unlocking the box when you were truly and utterly alone. 

Then you found Jackson. 

And you met Joel and Tommy Miller.

Your official title is scavenger but you much prefer to label yourself as an explorer instead. 

You’ve adapted to your quite well life at Jackson. You go beyond the borders, sometimes alone and sometimes with other fellow explorers, and gather supplies or try to pinpoint other locations threats might be lurking in. You’re about to go on another trip, this one shorter than your regular one to two-week expeditions, but before heading out you decide to stop by the only bakery in Jackson named The Last Crumb—previously named The Cordyceps Crumb but Maria decided it was in bad taste. You, on the other hand, had found it funny and topical. 

As you patiently wait in line, your camping bag waiting for you outside the bakery, someone bumps into you from behind, then never moves back. 

You turn with a raised eyebrow, not enjoying the close proximity, “Excuse you,” you snap. The man looks at you with a hint of mischief in his eyes, you roll your eyes when you recognize the face. “Move back a beat Tucker, I’m not in the mood this morning.” 

“Someone didn’t get her beauty sleep,” he grins but moves away regardless. “Want me to come with you this time? Sweet thing like you alone out there? It’s ain’t right.” 

“You can barely aim. Why would I want someone that’s most likely to get me killed around me?” 

“I think you’ll find my company to be plenty entertaining.” 

You’re about to gag when the bell of the bakery chimes, the sharp sound echoing through the wooden walls. Your face must've shown immense signs of relief because Tucker turns around to see who you're looking at. His instant frown makes you want to laugh and chuck him between the two men you’d describe as a wolf den. 

“Well, if it ain’t the Miller brothers,” Tucker tuts, attempting to give one of them a friendly pat on the shoulder. He stops midway when Joel’s gaze flits between you and him, his glare hard enough to cut diamonds. 

So he ends up slapping Tommy’s shoulder instead, which isn’t the best thing since you know the younger Miller hates Tucker. But among the brothers, he’s probably the one with less probability of getting your hand bitten off.

“Mornin’ Tucker,” Tommy answers, forcing a smile. 

Joel is less friendly, his words directed at you, “Is this dumbass botherin’ you again?” 

“I wouldn't exactly call a greeting among friends “botherin’,” Tucker says. “We’re just catchin’ up, no need to get your panties in a bunch Miller.” 

“God, you’re one word away from ruining my morning,” you hiss, glaring at the unpleasant man. “And we’re not friends.” 

His brows furrow, eyes going hard with an ugly snarl accompanying them, you feel braver when Tommy and Joel are around so you hold his gaze, not flinching away. 

Tommy is the one to ease the tension. He lays a hand on Tucker’s shoulder and squeezes, drawing the man’s attention away from you. “I’ll get you what you want a’right Tucker? It’s on me. Just go wait outside.” 

“But—” 

“Outside, Tuck,” Tommy repeats and you shudder at his tone. 

Tucker’s shoulders drop, defeated, “Fine, get me a raisin bagel.” 

He doesn’t wait for Tommy’s response and heads out the bakery. You finally release the breath you’ve been holding, your muscles relaxing along with the exhaled breath. Joel is by your side in the blink of an eye, his broad shoulder brushing yours providing comfort. 

“You sure you’re a’right?” he asks, gently curling fingers under your chin. “The prick didn’t do anythin’?” 

“Nah, nothing. He’s all bark but no bite. He asked if he wanted to join me today as if that buffoon wouldn’t get me killed.” you shrug, men being assholes was nothing new to you. You’re just glad that in Jackson it seems that there are more good apples than rotten ones.  “Too bad even paradise comes with drawbacks.” 

Joel snorts as Tommy cuts in, “Maria would be thrilled if she heard you calling it paradise.” 

“What are you smiling at? You think you can find anywhere better?” You playfully nudge Joel with your elbow. “You know there’s nothing but hell out there.” 

“I do, I just think callin’ here a paradise is a bit of a stretch is all.” 

The line moves and the three of you are finally at the counter, “You’re just a grump,” you tease Joel before turning your gaze to Poppy, the barista who knows everything about everyone. “Hey there, Poppy, the usual please.” 

“And a damn raisin bagel,” Tommy adds. 

“Well, isn’t it my favorite trio,” Poppy grins. “I’ll get all that ready for you in a second,” she locks her blue eyes on you and leans closer, you mimic her by instinct. “By the way have you heard of Ian? He wound up dead right outside the chopping block, an axe right through his chest.”  

You frown, “Good morning to you too, Poppy. Jesus Christ.” 

“I’ll confess I didn’t love the guy but isn’t it worrying that there’s a killer among us?” she murmurs while stuffing the goodies in paper bags. “Be careful out there.” 

“Well, if the culprit is here I think I might be safer out there,” you say and turn to Tommy. “Does Maria know?” 

“Of course, she does,” when you part your lips to say more, he lifts a finger and shoots you a crooked smile. “It’s confidential.” 

“Aw man, can’t you just tell us who she thinks it is?” Poppy asks, Tommy shakes his head and she lets out a dramatic sigh, “I miss my murder mystery books.” 

“I’ll try to find you something while I’m out,” you say, ignoring the way your heart began to race. Jackson is still a small town, it’s jarring to think someone might be out there, looking for their next target. “Though I think we could all do with a little less murder.” 

You hadn’t expected your voice to crack but your tone had betrayed you. Poppy extends you the bag of goods and a latte, as you reach out you feel Joel’s hand on your waist. His lips touch your ear. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m sure whoever it is is only goin’ after those who deserve it.” 

You lock your eyes with him, blinking heavily at the weight of his words. His voice had dropped, nothing but gravel as he whispered the words into your ear. A cold sensation slithers down your spine, chilling you to your core and making your throat tighten. 

His hand never leaves your waist as the three of you head out, and after a while, that chill slowly dissolves into a pleasurable warmth. 

You find solace in the woods. You love Jackson, but being in the woods away from everyone and everything makes you feel comforted. The first time you went scavenging, there was a slight fear in your movements; no matter how good your aim was, any kind of infected was difficult to kill.

But now you walk with ease. There isn’t an ounce of worry in your bones. The trees rustle happily and the smell of flowers and pine fills your nostrils. You can feel your lungs rejuvenating with every breath. Trickles of orange sunlight pour from the gaps of the trees. The sun sets, meaning you need to set up camp soon. 

While unpacking, you think of this morning. How Joel and Tommy stepped in when Tucker started bothering you. Honestly, you didn’t need their protection; Tucker is just one of those men who think they might have a shot if they bother you enough times. Still, it was nice to be claimed in a way, to be accepted into a family and cared for.

Your breath hitches slightly. Tommy, you see as a close friend, a brother perhaps, but Joel... Joel is another thing. Just thinking about him is enough to start a wildfire between your legs. You wish you were brave enough to do something about it, though. Whenever you two patrol together or stay awake late at night drinking, you always chicken out in the end. It doesn’t matter how his hands linger on your thighs or his eyes drop to your lips; you're just never convinced that the Joel Miller would be interested in you beyond a friend.

An unease starts to settle in the pit of your stomach. As the air grows colder with the approaching night, your skin prickles and you feel the phantom sensation of claws dragging down your back. You set the tent as quickly as you can, your eyes darting around the depths of the forest. Briefly, you bend over to adjust the ropes. 

A breath warm and damp ghosts the back of your neck and you jump, gun in hand as you turn around only to find—

Nothing. 

And no one. 

Your heart is hammering in your chest, adrenaline pumping in your veins, a drop of sweat trickling down your forehead. You've never had a trigger finger, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to just shoot every shadow you see.

“Dammit Poppy,” you mutter, annoyed that she gave you the brutal knowledge of Ian’s death right before you were heading out. Guilt stings at your heart. Ian was an asshole for sure, and you don’t exactly feel bad that he’s gone, but still, it was an eerie thought that someone had murdered him so violently. It had to be personal. 

Some part of you wishes Joel was here, or even Tucker, just another human being to tell you you’re just seeing things. 

You take a deep inhale and follow it up with a long exhale. You’re fine. There’s no one here. 

You give your surroundings one last suspicious look before going back to setting the tent. 

No matter how hard you try you can’t shake the feeling of someone watching you amongst the shadows. 

Joel hears crickets and owls. The night had always been his friend since the outbreak. He had become a violent man with an equally violent heart. He waits in the shadows, watching. Laughter and playful shouts echo from the bar, and soon the door swings open; the man he's been waiting for crawls out of the establishment, shit-faced. The drunk man shouts his farewells and staggers toward his home.

Joel follows, his mask heating up the skin that lays underneath. His fingers itch with the need to wring that asshole's neck. One by one, he had been cleaning Jackson for the better. His tendencies subdued while also doing some good. Ian was one of those people who deserved it and Joel had enjoyed the chase, the pleas, he especially enjoyed the way he tripped and cried right before he sunk the blade of the axe through Ian’s chest. 

Tucker trips, making Joel want to laugh. The idiot might not even realize he’s being hunted. Joel looks around, they are far enough for the chase to begin. Tucker continues to slip and fall as he attempts to get up. Taking the opportunity, Joel walks towards him with quick steps, making sure the first thing the asshole sees is his mask. 

Tucker notices him before he gets up, his hands bracing the ground, his eyes go wide, “What the fuck?” 

Joel only tilts his head. He sees the trembles rolling down the other man’s body, he relishes in his fear. 

“Look man, I don’t want any trouble, whoever the fuck you are so. . . scram.” 

Joel’s eyes dart to his hand on the dirt, without a second thought he lifts his foot and curb stomps Tucker’s hand. Then he kicks the side of his face, an audible crunch echoing before his scream could. The man whimpers and falls back in his attempt to crawl away. He holds his jaw, blood streaming down his broken nose. 

“Who the fuck are you?!”  

He steps closer and watches as Tucker’s eyes bug out. He’s too drunk to properly run away or even scream. Such an easy target. He grips the other’s hair and lifts him to his feet, he can feel the strands starting to rip from his scalp one by one, Tucker’s face twisting in pain. “Your worst fuckin’ nightmare,” Joel answers eerily calm. It doesn’t matter if Tucker recognizes him. He’d be dead soon enough anyway. 

“P-Please,” he begs, realizing the same thing. “I’ll do whatever you want promise. I don’t want to die.” 

Joel grunts, not dignifying his pleas with an answer. Lifting his other hand, his knuckles connect to Tucker’s face with a loud crunch, body flying to the ground headfirst. 

He pulls out his knife and drops down, ignoring the ache in his knees, he grabs Tucker’s arm and aligns the sharp blade against his wrist. Tucker notices, his face going pale as a ghost. “D-Don’t—” 

Joel doesn’t bat an eye as blood spurts violently over his clothes and the dirt. Drops of crimson seeping into the fabric. The knife cuts through the flesh like butter, severing hand from bone. His hand clamps over Tucker’s mouth. Joel smiles as his screams bounce off of the palm of his hand. 

You come back to Jackson hand empty and earlier than intended. You were too much at unease, and being so jarred wasn’t the best while scavenging for supplies alone. During your trip, you did end up scribbling something for Poppy. It wasn’t finished but you hoped she would enjoy the first draft of the first chapter. It was mostly descriptions of what you felt, a cat-and-mouse game between two people who had bumped into each other accidentally. 

While heading into Jackson, you notice a crowd in the distance. You promptly get off your horse and walk with haste. You recognize Joel and Tommy easily, both brothers standing on each end of the crowd like gates keeping a herd of sheep in check. Ellie is standing right next to Joel, lifting herself on her toes to see; Joel is holding her back by gripping the cap of her hood.

“What’s going on?” you ask. 

Joel turns to you, his eyebrows raising when notices it’s you and not some random person he has to ignore, “You’re back,” he says. A statement rather than a question. 

“Yeah, wasn’t feeling that well,” you shrug him off. “So what happened?” 

His eyes turn to steel, his jaw locking in place. Before you can ask again, he gestures for you to move up the crowd with a tilt of his head.

“Lucky,” you hear Ellie murmur as you walk ahead, gently pushing those who were looking at the sight with concern. With every step you take, the murmur of the crowd fades into the background, becoming nothing more than white noise. Maria is addressing the crowd, you think, though you're not entirely sure. The scent of blood is thick in the air, disorienting you as you get closer.

Your eyes go wide, the earth slips from beneath you but your expression remains emotionless.  

It’s Tucker. 

You feel as if you’re standing alone. As if you’re the only one taking in the sight of absolute horror and gore. Tucker is lying in a pile of his own blood face first, his eyes are open and lifeless, his one hand is outstretched like he’s about to crawl away.

His right hand, however, is chopped off. 

It’s not even a clean-cut. The edges of his flesh are jagged and crooked, his blood-caked where his hand should be. Whoever did this cut it so it would hurt, so he would suffer tremendously. 

You can’t help but gasp, covering your mouth with your right hand. You begin to shake, confusion churning in your stomach as bile coats your tongue. He’s dead. Just like Ian. 

When Maria’s eyes find your own, she narrows her gaze, a small warning for you to keep it together. You can’t though. How could you? Tucker was alive and kicking a couple of days ago, just being his annoying self around Jackson. 

“Calm down,” you hear Joel mutter into your ear. You shiver at the brush of his lips. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” 

Safe. You want to laugh. You don’t even know what that word means anymore. 

Joel’s mouth moves over the shell of your ear, “He was a nuisance. Don’t feel bad now that he’s dead.” 

“I didn’t want him to die,” you hiss back. “And knowing there’s a serial killer out there doesn’t exactly make me feel safe.” 

Despite your half-angry tone, you find yourself leaning into Joel’s presence. Your shoulder presses into his broad chest, and without missing a beat he wraps his arms around your shaking frame. Relief comes in the form of warmth spreading along your chest, tingles forming at the tips of your fingers and toes. The voices of the crowd gradually come back but you only hear one of the many questions.

“What do you think the message means?” 

Confusion crosses your face, brows furrowing as you try to make sense of it. Joel makes a choked-out sound that could’ve easily been taken as an amused chuckle. 

Then your eyes drop to Tucker’s outstretched hand and his dying message written in blood. 

O W L 

A week had passed since Tucker’s death. 

You've been thinking about both murders relentlessly, trying to piece together everything that you know so far. During this time, you're grateful for Poppy, who comes by almost every night to help you try to solve the case. That's been your sole focus for the past few weeks; you haven't been scavenging since you spooked yourself so badly that you returned early, only to find Tucker dead.

Some part of you thinks that the eeriness you felt that day was a sign of what was about to happen. It's also an odd coincidence that he ended up dead the same night he harassed you in the morning. However, there are no forensic investigators in Jackson, so it’s almost impossible to determine the exact time of death. That fact alone makes you anxious. It only means that whoever is killing everyone has nothing to worry about because even if they leave traces, who’s going to know?

In order to keep your nerves in check you end up writing a lot. You haven’t shown any of it to Poppy yet but you’re excited. You never thought writing a thriller would be the perfect way to escape the horrors of your actual life. At least in your stories, you have control. 

You also visit Joel and vice versa. 

Something had shifted the day he held you as you both gazed upon Tucker’s lifeless body. Maybe it was just you who felt bolder since death was once again right around the corner — or maybe Joel just felt more protective now, wanting to check on you as much as he could.

“You’re really writin’ a whole ass novel?” he asks, pouring you a glass of scotch. You still can’t get over the fact that it nearly tasted identical to the actual stuff. Jackson is truly a miracle; at least when bodies aren’t dropping left and write. 

Ellie’s at a sleepover, which means you and Joel have the whole house to yourselves. With everything going on you’d expect your libido to diminish a bit but it’s as strong as ever, ready to go. 

You smile as he places the glass in front of you, “Yeah,” you say, picking up the glass and heading toward the living room. “I couldn’t find Poppy anything to read and it helps me relax.” 

“Relax, how?” he asks, taking a seat next to you. The couch dips with his weight, and heat crawls up from your chest to your neck when his knee brushes against yours. 

“Well, it’s a horror thing. Horror slash mystery? I don’t know—whatever it is, it’s nice to have an outlet to escape what’s been happening lately.” 

“So to escape brutal murders you write more brutal murders?” 

You chuckle at the way his eyebrows raise, eyes going wide, “I don’t really focus that much on the gore. It’s more psychological, my sweet brute. Things don’t need to have blood to be scary.” 

His grin is wide and instant, dark eyes lighting up with amusement, “What did you just call me?” 

“I. . .” Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, suddenly realizing what you’d said. 

“What cat got your tongue?” he teases. Joel leans closer, fingers dancing along the curve of your shoulder. You can feel the gravel in his voice. “You just called me yours, sweetheart. Does that jog your memory?” 

“I also called you brute,” you quip back immediately, cheeks aflame. “It doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Don’t it?” his palm now presses fully into your shoulder, keeping you in place in case you might run. Joel tilts his head slightly, the plush of his lips only an inch away. “I like you callin’ me that,” the pink of his tongue swipes over his bottom lip. “Say it again.”  

“S-Say what?” 

A small chuckle parts his lips, oddly enough it almost feels like his patience is wearing thin. He comes closer, the tip of his nose brushing yours. “That I’m yours,” he clarifies. “Been waitin’ to hear those words come from your mouth since I met you.” 

“You’re mine,” you whisper against his lips, eyelids fluttering but not quite closing. With the confession, you feel the brush of Joel’s lips on yours. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth. You part for him with a moan, and taking the opportunity, he slides inside, tasting every inch of you. 

His lips taste and feel like the forests you wander off to; it soothes you, calms your nerves, and has the taste of home. They’re chapped from the sun, yet soft. You can’t have enough of him, if he’d offered, you’d gladly kiss him forever. 

Joel parts with a shaky breath, his chest heaving, “And you’re mine,” he groans, his eyes dark with arousal. It’s an involuntary action but your eyes drop to the front of his pants where you see the thick outline of his cock. 

Your mouth goes dry, yet you manage to speak anyway, “Are words all you’ve been waiting for?” It’s bold, you’re highly aware, but you can’t help it when he’s this close. His scent suffocating, pulling you to him like a moth to a flame. 

He stares at you silently. His thumb touches your bottom lip, slightly tugging it down. He’s not smiling anymore, only observing. 

“No,” Joel answers slowly. He leans towards your ears, the thick hairs above his lips tickling your skin. “I’ve also been waitin’ to feel that velvet tongue on my cock, honey. And to feel how tight your throat gets when you take every inch of me.” 

Joel blows a puff of air, it caresses your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He brings your hand to the front of his pants, dragging your palm up and down his length. You shudder. The heat of it seeps into your palm despite the thick fabric of his jeans, you lick your lips absentmindedly. “This is all for you sweetheart.” 

“Fuck, Joel. . .” your eyes roll back when he kisses your neck, open-mouthed kisses laid upon your skin like a gift. Your nipples tighten and if you look down right now, you know you’ll see them peeking through your shirt. 

He reads your thoughts, eyes moving down before meeting your gaze again. “Didn’t know you walked around without a bra, sunshine.” 

“I only go braless when I’m comfortable,” you answer. Joel cups your breasts roughly, kneading the flesh, he simultaneously sucks on your neck, teeth nipping the sensitive skin. “Oh god,” the fabric of your panties grows damp and you clench your thighs together. 

“Not god,” he says sharply, sinking his teeth into you. “Joel.” 

“Joel,” you moan and arch your back, filling more of yourself into his palm. You squeeze his cock, relishing in the way he makes a strangled sound. “I want to suck you off, Joel.” 

“Be my guest.” 

You push him until he’s lying on the couch. You’re about to unbutton his jeans but he stops you. 

“Turn around,” he says. 

“What?” 

His wide grin nearly stops your heart, “Want to taste that sweet pussy, sunshine. Strip down and take a seat.” 

“On—On your face?” 

“Where else?” 

You’re too embarrassed to speak, tongue suddenly too big in your mouth. Quickly, and a bit clumsily, you strip down and turn before straddling his chest. You don’t need to touch yourself to know that you’re soaked. 

You swallow, “I’ve never done this before.” 

His hands come up to cradle your hips, urging you to move back towards his face. You feel the blunt sting of his nails. 

“That’s alright,” he mutters. “I won’t let you fall if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“I’m more worried about how I’m gonna move, or accidentally suffocating you.” 

“What a noble way it would be to go.” 

“Joel!” you laugh, playfully smacking his thigh. He answers by giving your hips another squeeze, you surrender and move back until you’re hovering over his face. Your hand planted firmly over his hip bones, you lower yourself. You shudder as his tongue licks a stripe between your folds. He moans into your cunt, pulling you flush against his face. 

Meanwhile, you finally unzip his pants and pull his cock out, the heft of it bumping against your nose and lips. You drip at the smell of him and swear he smiles as he sucks on your aching clit, short-circuiting your brain with arousal. His cock throbs in your palm, a drop of precome glistening at the tip. Your mouth watering, you lean forward and clean him off. Another groan echoes within his chest and he thrusts forward, the tip of his cock kissing your lips. 

Eyes fluttering closed, you suck on the bulbous head and force yourself to go down until he hits the back of your throat. You wrap a hand around the base, stroking where you can’t fit, and hallow your cheeks. 

“Come on, sunshine. You can take me,” he rasps. “You’re mine, aren’t you? That mouth is meant to take me.” 

Without waiting for an answer, Joel pushes his tongue inside, your walls clenching around the wet muscle—you let out a loud gasp and grind down, then you feel the sting of his palm against your ass, pain blossoming from where he smacked. 

Your throat rattles with a moan and Joel takes the opportunity to drive forward, your eyes go wide as you feel the length of him sliding down your throat, cutting the air from your lungs. 

“Oh, fuck—” he moans unabashedly, the sounds sending a pleasurable tingle down your spine despite the strain on your throat. “That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Fuck, fuck—” 

Your throat tightens around him, your lungs starting to burn. His hand caresses both sides of your ass, the abrupt pain of the smack from before subduing, “Relax,” he says, swirling his tongue around your clit. “Breathe through your nose. Just a bit more. . .” 

Your nails bite into his thighs as you attempt to follow instructions. You relax your throat and slowly begin to breathe from your nose. It’s still difficult, but your lungs rejoice in the minimal amount of air that comes through. You make a mess of him. Saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth and down his length. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he murmurs. “Gonna fuck that pretty throat now and make this pussy come, understood?” 

Eyes tearing up, you nod. From the way your stomach convulses, you know that you’re close, your skin tight over your trembling muscles. The nod is all that Joel needs from you. Holding you in place, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself completely down your throat while flicking his tongue against your clit. You scream around him, eyes rolling back as he continues to devour you and take you apart at the same time. He licks you with fat strokes of his tongue, a hint of teeth scraping your folds here and there as he fucks your throat with shallow thrusts. 

You’re limp against his broad body, allowing him to use you as he pleases while all you can do is hang on for the ride. Pleasure licks the base of your spine, a searing heat caressing your skin while Joel continues to build you up only for you to fall spectacularly. Your lips start to ache, your throat squeezing around him whenever he snaps his hips forward— 

And all hell finally breaks loose. 

You come undone with a devastating cry only for it to be muffled by his cock going down your throat. You gush around his tongue, soaking his facial hair and mouth, Joel is underrated, licking and sucking until you’re shaking above him, every bit of tension draining from your body. 

Joel comes shortly after, his hand slides from your waist and he manages to reach out in order to hold your head down. You don’t have a choice but to swallow as he spills down your throat, thick spurts of come going down while he shudders and pushes even deeper. 

There’s so much of it, cock twitching and throbbing in your mouth until your mouth sucks him dry. You’re lightheaded from the lack of air; you find that it adds to the pleasure that’s buzzing in your veins, your cunt still pulsing with the heft of him still buried in your lips. 

He pulls out with a satisfied groan and you manage to scoot down so you’re straddling his chest instead of head. Joel caresses your back, the gentle repeated motion sending tingles down your spine. 

“That’s was fuckin’ amazin’,” he says, voice hoarse. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” you answer sounding meek. “I think I need some water though.” 

You get off, legs still shaking, but he grabs your hand, halting your movement. “Let me get it for you,” he says, sitting up. 

“I’m already up,” you smile as his brows furrow with worry, the expression warming your heart. You quickly bend down to kiss him and he’s quick to lick himself into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. “I’ll be right back.” 

You have no idea how you’re standing while feeling like jello but you manage to get yourself all the way to the fridge. You smile at the coolness touching your warmed skin when you open the door. Scanning the interior, you thoughtlessly rub at your throat in an attempt to soothe the ache a little. You grab the pitcher of cold water and notice a bit of apple pie left over. 

“Hey, Joel?” you call out. He hums in acknowledgment. “Can I have a slice of pie?” 

His humored chuckle follows through, “You can eat the whole damn thing after what you’ve done,” you smile and take the desert out. “Can you bring me a slice too?” he adds. 

You smile and place the pie on the counter. The leftover is already two slices give or take so you decide to just take two forks with you instead of dirting a plate. Looking through the drawers, you try to remember which one is the cutlery drawer. 

On your second try you find something else. 

Something that makes your eyes go wide and heart throb painfully. 

Your hands shaking, you pick up the owl mask from the drawer. The surface is smooth, and the color of it a light shade of brown just like a tawny owl. All the pleasant tingles fade away, the buzz of pleasure in your veins replaced by fear and adrenaline. 

Heading back to the living room, you show the mask to Joel. 

“What’s this?” you ask, your voice betraying your sudden outburst of fear. 

Joel looks up, eyes flitting between you and the owl mask. He raises a brow, his confusion evident across his face. “It’s a mask, sweetheart.” 

“No no, I know it’s a mask,” you answer, breathless. “But why do you have it?” 

“It’s Ellie’s,” he stands up, his pants still unbuttoned but pulled up. You fight the urge to step away, fight the urge to flinch when he touches your cheek. “They were makin’ Halloween masks last year in school. I didn’t even realize we still had it.” 

“Really?” you ask and he nods. 

“Really,” Joel claims your lips in a chaste kiss, thumb stroking lines up and down your cheek. His hand slithers down your arm to your wrist and when he squeezes, you drop the mask. “Why?” he breathes into you. “Is this about the damn thing Tucker wrote down?” 

You remain silent and he pulls away, dark eyes boring into yours. 

“You need to relax, sweetheart,” he mumbles. “Why don’t you just allow yourself to enjoy this? You deserve to be happy.” 

Your eyes widen with surprise, his words crashing into you, “I. . . Do I do that? Really?” 

“It’s normal, darlin’,” he answers. “I’m pretty sure we all have survivor’s guilt.” 

You let out a shaky exhale. He’s right. You were just feeling guilty of being alive when so many had died. Joel smiles back and traces the curve of yours with his fingers. “There’s that smile that I adore,” he guides you towards the kitchen. “Now let’s go eat some pie.” 

No matter what though, you can’t help but turn back to look at the owl mask one last time as it lays lifelessly on the floor. 

“So, tell me about this book you’re writin’?” 

You let out a low laugh, “I already told you about it. What more do you wanna know?” 

You stare at Joel’s back as he takes the lead, he’d decided to join you in your explorations ever since you told him how nervous you had gotten the last time. You had appreciated the gesture but still felt a tad anxious around him ever since you found that damn owl mask— 

A branch snaps into two under your steps and he turns, extending his hand to you. With a smile you allow him to lace his fingers within yours, your stomach jumping a little as he tugs you close so the two of you are walking side by side instead. 

“If memory serves me right we got distracted when you told me about it,” he says with that southern drawl of his. “So tell me again what it’s about.” 

“Okay okay,” you smile, squeezing his hand twice. “It’s all a big mess now but the premise is that there’s this guy obsessed with this woman and he stalks her and no matter what she does, she always feels like there’s someone watching.” 

Joel looks ahead, “Sounds familiar. Isn’t that how you felt last time you were out here?” 

“Yeah, and it’s when I started writing it.” 

“So do these two people know each other?” his tone drops, his fingers suddenly feeling like barbed wire within your hand. You swallow. “I mean in their regular lives, does the woman know that he’s the one stalkin’ her?” 

You roll your shoulders, a weak attempt to shrug off the eeriness that you feel. 

“Exactly. I think that just makes the whole thing creepier. He’s just a normal guy, even a friend, but he’s also the one among the shadows.” 

“Interestin’,” he murmurs. “You think that’s happenin’ to you?” 

“I don’t think there’s someone stalking me, if that’s what you’re asking,” you utter every word hastily, your pulse quickening under your skin. 

His lips curl in a half smile, “That’s good,” he says. “Wouldn’t want you to be laying awake thinking about what might lingerin’ on the other side of the window.” 

“I think I’m more likely to stay awake thinking about infected,” you say with a soft laugh. “But yeah, it’s all fiction. That day I probably just got scared because of what Poppy said about Ian.” 

“Probably,” Joel trails off, his steps slowing. “How do you think it’s gonna end?” 

“W-What?” 

He stops and so does your heart. At least you think it does. 

Joel faces you fully, his presence towering, he grips your shoulders and pushes you back until the air is knocked from your lungs by a tree right behind you. Your eyes go wide. He leans in, breath tickling your lips. 

“How do you think your book is gonna end, sweetheart?” he asks again, eyes gleaming with something dark. “Is the guy gonna get the girl?” 

“I—I don’t know.” 

All you can think about is the owl mask and how it would perfectly fit his face. He cocks his head and taking a step closer, he slips a leg between your thighs. Slick gathers at your underwear—he feels the fabric dampening on his leg and grins. 

“Fear turns you on doesn’t it?” he purrs. “Wicked thing.” 

Relief drowns your senses. So that’s why he got all weird suddenly, he’s just teasing you. With a laugh, your head falls back against the tree trunk, “Jesus Joel, you scared the shit out of me.” 

“It ain’t my fault,” he says, nipping at your chin. “You’re easy to scare.” 

“Well, two brutal unsolvable murders will do that to a girl.” 

Joel lets go and pulls away, smiling as he shakes his head, “What’s it gonna take for you to believe I had nothin’ to do with those? Even in death, Tucker causes nothin’ but fuckin’ trouble for me.” 

“You don’t need to do anything, I’m sorry,” you pull him back, relishing in the way his strong arms wrap around your frame. “I’ll stop being such a chicken, promise. I’m still a bit jittery that’s all.” 

“I forgive you,” he says against your lips, kissing you quickly before pulling you away from the thick trunk of the tree. “Now let’s find a place to settle down for the night.” 

When you two return to Jackson three days later, the first thing you notice is the crowd. Your stomach drops at the familiar sight and instinctively you reach out to Joel, lacing your fingers together. He squeezes your hand two times. 

The last thing you should be feeling is relief that now it’s not possible for Joel to be the one killing all those people but alas, that’s all you feel. Relief and love. 

The trade fair sprawls before you. Stalls with makeshift awnings, tattered banners, and worn tarps create a patchwork quilt of colors, beneath which a diverse array of goods is proudly displayed. The air is thick with the scent of freshly baked bread, the tang of cured leather, and the earthy aroma of herbs. Laughter, chatter, and the occasional clinking of metal form a lively symphony, a chorus of life that drowns out the ever-present background hum of death and infection.

You’ve always enjoyed the time of the trade fair. People move like busy ants, weaving between the stalls. Children, their cheeks dusted with earth, dart through the crowd, their carefree laughter that should be comforting doing the opposite. Since Tina’s death— she was one of the council members— you had been sleeping at Joel’s. Neither he nor Ellie seemed to mind you staying there. 

The purpose of the fair is to exchange goods – to exchange, to connect, to share stories of survival.

Your eyes scan the crowd for Joel's familiar silhouette. He and Ellie had headed out before you since you wanted a change of clothes. Just as your gaze begins to falter, a voice reaches your ears. "Hey!" It's Poppy, she waves you over.

You navigate your way through the bustling stalls until you stand before Poppy. She's leaning against a rough-hewn post, a glint of excitement in her eyes. 

“Hey, Poppy,” you greet her with a smile. “I’m looking for Joel, or Ellie, have you seen either of them?”

“Well, Ellie is with Dina, hanging out,” She points to the forest that skirts the settlement. "I saw him heading that way not too long ago."

“Alright, thanks. I’ll see you later then,” Waving her off, you head after Joel. 

The trees are a bit more scarce here, there’s more room between them. The forest opens up, revealing a sprawling expanse that stretches as far as the eye can see. It's a stark contrast to the dense woods you often travel to, where the trees stand like guardians, their branches interlocking in a tapestry of shadow and light. Here, the gaps between the trees create pockets of sunlight that dapple the forest floor. 

However, the expanses between trees can be deceiving, and without the markers and familiarity of the well-trodden paths closer to home, it's easy to lose your way. 

For some reason instead of calling out for Joel, you decide to wander aimlessly. You’re not sure why. You don’t come to this side of Jackson often enough to feel comfortable with your surroundings and shouting his name would definitely be easier than walking without aim. 

Soon enough you hear faint murmuring beckoning you deeper into the forest. 

Survival instincts kicking in, you slow down your steps, making sure to step onto clear dirt instead of gravel or fallen branches. Hiding behind a rather large tree trunk, you stare ahead. In the distance, you see two men: one with his back against the tree, while the other holds him by the neck, the sharp blade of his knife catching the sunlight and reflecting it directly into your eyes.

You hold your breath and your eyes go wide. You hear the thrum of your heart. It’s the killer. It has to be. 

You can’t quite hear them but you can decipher the tone of begging for one's life. The man holding the knife tilts his head slightly, your mouth waters at the prospect of finally seeing the murderer's face—

It’s the mask. 

The same mask you found in Joel’s home in the shape of an owl. Your stomach churns violently, bile raising to your throat as you watch on. You rub at your eyes, take deep breaths—anything you can think of that would erase the image before you. 

Goosebumps raising across your skin, you shake your head. It can’t be Joel. He was with you the day Tina died and no matter how competent he was not even he could be at two places at once. 

A muffled scream echoes within the forest and your eyes snap to the two men, the owl had driven his knife into the flesh and bone. He pulls it out, and the body falls. You recognize who it is; Jacob. You heard his name a couple of days ago from Ellie, he was bothering both her and Dina because they were hanging out. 

He’s still alive when the killer stomps his head in, blood splattering across the leys. 

You’re frozen in place. Your throat dry and tongue motionless. The killer kicks Jacob one last time for good measure and finally stops. You observe the way his shoulders drop as if a great weight had been lifted off of them, then he looks up into the sky, the golden sun highlighting his mask. 

Very slowly, he lifts his hand and takes it off. 

Every feeling comes rushing back, too fast and too soon. Your tongue is alive again and so is your body, the world is suddenly vibrant with life and horror. The sun continues to caress the countenance of the unmasked killer’s face, his sunkissed skin the perfect canvas to soak up the light. 

Joel. 

You take a step back, every thought of precaution dropping from your mind. The forest starts to spin. It spins and spins and spins until the ground slips from beneath your feet. You catch yourself at the very last second. 

When you look up you see his gaze staring directly into yours. 

“Fuck,” you hiss out, quickly staggering up. The last thing you see before you start running is his extended hand as he tries to reach out for you. 

“Wait!” 

You don’t. You do the exact opposite of that. You run. You run for your life and those in Jackson at the fair. 

You run with memories loud in your mind. How Joel had listened to you, comforted you, fucked you—

Tears sting your eyes. Every part of this feels like a nightmare that you hope to wake up from anytime soon. But as the wind hits your skin, you know that every part of this is very much real. Your chest burns from how fast you’re going, your legs starting to falter underneath you. 

Before you can react, an unexpected force slams into you. The impact sends shockwaves through your body as you collide with something—or is it someone?—their presence as jarring as the jolt itself. Your momentum falters, and for a fleeting moment, time seems to slow as you stumble, desperately trying to regain your balance.

Two arms grab at you and without even seeing who it is, you start to push the person away, fighting against it like a wild animal. 

“Let go of me! Let go of me!” 

“Hey hey hey,” you hear a familiar voice repeat. “It’s me, you’re okay,” you’re shaking all around, only when you feel his hands cradle your cheeks do you open your eyes. He smiles when he sees your eyes flicker in recognition. 

“Tommy?” you whisper. He nods and without a thought you jump him, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him close. His arms coil around you in response, promising to not let go. “Oh, thank fuck it’s you.” 

“What happened? Are you alright?” 

“I—I am okay but—Joel—It’s Joel, Tommy he’s been the one behind all those murders. We need to warn everyone, we need to tell Maria!” 

You grab his arm and tug him along toward what you assume is the right way out of the forest. He remains still. Turning around, you shoot him a confused glance. 'Tommy, we need to tell people.'

“Can’t let you do that sugar, sorry.” 

“Why. . . Why not?” you let go and slowly step back, heart pounding. “Is it because he’s your brother?” 

You wish that was his excuse. Some moral obligation towards Joel because he’s his brother, that you can relate to. Your heart still pounds for Joel and in your brain, you’re still desperately seeking an explanation. 

But Tommy allows the silence to linger, your fear and worry quickly turning into anger. 

“Fine, I’ll tell them. It’s wrong.” 

It only takes a blink of an eye; you feel Tommy’s iron grip around your wrist, yanking you back into his chest. He holds you. Oddly tender for someone who had made your arm nearly fall out of its socket. You thrash within his arms, pulling and hitting his chest. 

“We’re doing good,” he grunts. “You gotta see that.” 

You refuse to listen, your ear narrowing on the sound of your own blood rush instead of his words. By some miracle, you manage to slip your arm out and punch him square in the chin. It was a weak punch but strong enough to startle Tommy. 

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart, calm the fuck down—” he tucks your arm back against your body and turns you around so your back is flush against his chest. You’re breathing raggedly, chest rising with every deep gulp of air. His lips touch your ear, his tone menacing, “I really wish you would’ve not done that.” 

“Why?” you gasp. “You’re gonna kill me too?” 

Silence follows, and with every passing moment sweat beads on your forehead, “It was you wasn’t it?” you continue. “You killed Tina. Joel only came along with me to calm my suspicions.” 

Before Tommy can confirm your suspicions, you notice movement within the forest and your eyes are immediately drawn to the shadow coming forth.  

“Smart girl,” Joel remarks with a half smile as he emerges from between the trees. There’s a splatter of red over his shirt but the knife seems to be tucked away. For now. “But you’re only half right, darlin’. I came along because I like spendin’ time with you.” 

“Is that supposed to make me ignore the fact that Jacob’s body isn’t even cold yet?” 

Joel curls two fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze while Tommy continues to hold you back. You shudder against him, a soft sound parts the younger Miller’s lips. 

“He was a piece of shit,” Joel grunts. “He was botherin’ Ellie, callin’ her names, he deserved what he was gettin’.” 

“So what, you guys are just playing hero? Killing everyone who’s causing trouble in town? There’s a system for that.” 

“Honey,” he tuts, an involuntary warmth spreading within your abdomen. “The system didn’t work before the outbreak, it ain’t gonna work now either.” 

“We protect our own,” Tommy says from behind you, breath fanning your neck. “We take care of it before it escalates. You have to understand that.” 

“And why the hell would I understand?” you hiss, looking directly into Joel’s eyes while addressing Tommy. 

Joel smiles, his lips curling slowly, “Because you’re one of us. And you like it when we protect.” 

Your lips part with an exhale. He’s right, not that you still agree with them killing people, but you had enjoyed that primal protection coming from the Millers. It made you feel powerful, loved, cared for. All the things you craved deeply. 

You ignore Joel and his words entirely, averting your eyes with embarrassment and shame. 

“I just don’t understand why you did it, Tommy” you murmur. Tommy tenses behind you, his arms tightening around your frame, drawing the remaining oxygen from your lungs. “I understand the other’s to an extent but Tina didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Joel looks towards Tommy, it was his kill after all and the older Miller had nothing to say about it. 

“She was wrecking what Maria is tryin’ so hard to build,” he answers. “She’s pregnant, stress ain’t good for her or the baby.” 

“Does. . . Does Maria—” 

Tommy cuts you off, “No.” 

Joel leans closer, mouth an inch away from yours as he parts his lips. “I killed for you,” You hate the way your body reacts to him, wanting to close the distance between you two despite how unsettled you feel. “Ian was a piece of shit, so was Tucker and Jacob. They don’t deserve your empathy, honey. And you can’t deny that you’re glad they’re gone.” 

His hair is a delightful mess. Soft locks going in every direction. All you want to do is thread your fingers within and forget about all of this. Joel’s gaze is observant, dark eyes darting all over your face. You don’t know what he sees but whatever it is, he nods to Tommy for him to let you go and he does. Legs lifeless and shaking, he catches you, his warmth welcoming. He’s still tender with you. Hands delicate as they move over your arms, shifting you so you'll be facing Tommy.

Joel’s hand curls around your neck and holds your chin so you can’t look away. You can’t read Tommy’s expression. You’re not sure what he’s feeling. However, you think he looks almost relieved that you’re not fighting anymore. 

You shudder as Joel drags his lips down your neck, taking deep breaths of your fear-induced scent. His hands slip under your shirt and cup both breaths, making you squeal. Your objection is short-lived when he brushes his thumbs over both nipples, awakening them with slow strokes. 

Tommy’s gaze drops to your chest. 

“He’s been watching you, you know,” Joel says. “When I had things to settle in town it was him who looked after you,” his voice drops, eyes observing his brother. “I think he deserves a bit of a show, don’t you think?” 

The whimper you let out is enough for Tommy to meet your gaze curiously. Joel smiles into your skin and your eyes widen as he pulls out a knife—a different one from the one he used on Jacob, you realize with relief. 

Your breath hitches as he slides the knife under your shirt and cuts your shirt clean from the middle, exposing you completely to his younger brother’s eyes. Sudden arousal pools between your legs and you clamp them together suddenly, the movement not unnoticed by either of them. 

“You like it when my brother watches?” he asks loud enough for Tommy to hear. “You got a little crush on him too, sweetheart, hmm? Don’t worry, he’s always goin’ to be lookin’ out for you. That’s what family does after all.” 

Your neck strains as Joel tilts your head suddenly, claiming your lips in a violent kiss. He doesn’t wait for you to part your lips for him and pushes his tongue into your mouth, licking the surprised sounds of pleasure right from your mouth. Your heart skips a beat. He presses the flat side of the knife against your warmed skin, the chill of metal settling in your bones. 

When he parts away, a string of saliva connects you still. “You’re mine aren’t you?” Joel groans, lips moving over yours. 

You nod in a daze and he smiles, “And I’m yours too,” he says. 

Your eyes meet Tommy momentarily, the younger Miller’s lips twitch in a half smile. He doesn’t say a word as he closes the distance. 

Tommy cradles your face tenderly,  urging you to come close as he envelopes your lips with his own, taking you by surprise. 

The kiss lacks the intensity compared to Joel’s. Tommy caresses your cheeks with both thumbs. You don’t even feel his tongue, it’s just a gradual movement of lips, a type of affirmation and comfort. 

“You’re one of us now,” he says pressing his forehead against yours. You don’t know how to react or what to say and you end up just nodding, your hands fisting his shirt. Him, parting away from you almost feels painful but you’re not sure why. Tommy gives you a smile and Joel a nod before he leaves. 

You and Joel stand like that for a while, in complete silence, bodies flushed together, knife still resting over your stomach. 

“I only did what was right,” he breaks the silence. His tone isn’t one of asking for forgiveness or understanding. His arms tighten around you. “Are you afraid of me?” he whispers into your ear, the thick hairs above his lips tickling the shell of your ear. 

You don’t answer him. 

“You don’t need to be,” he continues. He allows you to move within his arms, you want to see his face, you need to see him to not fear for your life. You ignore the knife grazing your skin as you turn around, your bare front snug against his chest. “I’ll never hurt you. And you’re the only person in this whole damn town that can say that. You and Ellie.” 

“What about Tommy?” 

“Tommy’s priorities lay elsewhere.” 

He doesn’t allow you to inquire further about what he means by that. All you can detect is a hint of anger that quickly dissipates when he claims your lips once more. 

You’re lost in him. His tongue captures you in a way that makes you forget the blood on his clothes—on his hands. His tongue slides against your own, pressing until you’re moaning into his mouth, your knees faltering at the knife smoothing down your skin. 

Before pushing you down to the ground, he takes off the shirt he cut in half completely off of you, your bra following the pile on the grass. Your breath hitches as he takes his place between your legs, his mouth devouring your neck, “Joel. . .” you moan, fisting his shirt and grinding up to feel at least a bit of friction. 

A silent laugh seeps into your skin, his breath sending shivers up your spine, “Do you still feel bad for them?” he teases, laying a wet kiss between your breasts. 

You don’t think much as you answer, “No.” 

And as a reward, Joel closes his lips over a nipple, sucking hard until your breathing goes ragged. 

“That’s my girl,” he groans, moving towards the other pebbled flesh. “You’re too good, too kind, but they don’t deserve that sweetheart.” 

He hooks his fingers into your belt loops and tugs down your jeans, laving you with soft, ticklish kisses as he moves lower and lower. When you’re completely bare to him, you have the urge to cover yourself, the grass tickles your back and the wind feels colder now. Joel smiles and pulls your arms away. He lays the knife right above your stomach and your breath hitches. 

“I want to taste you,” Joel says. “But not in the way you think, darlin’,” he kisses the sensitive skin right adobe your belly button, and brings the sharp edge of the knife to your skin. “I want to taste the life that pumps through your veins.” 

Your eyes widen as he nicks you. It’s a small cut and blood beads at the wound instantly. He doesn’t allow it to gather enough so that’ll trickle down, he quickly presses his lips against it, your essence coating his tongue as he gives it a tender suck. You can the blood leaving your veins, a pleasant tingle echoing from the wound and spreading throughout your body. Your eyes flutter, a moan escaping your lips as he flattens his tongue against the cut and licks with board strokes. 

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he rasps, pushing two fingers into you with ease. You gasp at the sudden stretch, your back arching into his touch. “So darn wet—All this for me, sunshine?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, grinding down. “Joel, please—” 

You hear the sound of his belt buckle coming undone, his breath heavy in your ear, “Since you asked so nicely, sweetheart, I’m obliged.” 

You feel the head of his cock brush against your entrance, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Your eyes close in anticipation and you whimper as he slowly slides inside you inch by inch. You can feel it, that intense fullness that can only come from him, taking his time to make sure it feels good. His size is intimidating but you feel yourself melting around him, eager and willing. 

“That’s it. . . you’re takin’ me so well, such a tight little hole for me. Fuckin’ amazin’.” 

He presses his forehead against yours, nipping at your bottom lip before thrusting, sending a wave of pleasure that makes your toes curl. You cling onto him for support as he pumps deeper and faster, hitting all the right spots. It takes neither of you long to climb the edge, ready to fall. You can feel the warmth of his breath, and his grip tightens on your hips. His pace quickens as the intensity builds, and you clench around him as he groans your name. 

“Gonna come inside,” he slurs his words. “Gonna fill you up—shit—” 

You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of you, his hard length contracting. As he pushes deeper into you, your insides flutter, squeezing around him. Your orgasm is ripped from you, shattering and mind-numbing. Your head spins and you cling to him, afraid that the world underneath you might slip entirely. His hot come warms you from the inside out, spilling from where his cock stretches you. 

Joel remains inside until he starts to soften. He pulls out of you, leaving you feeling a longing ache deep within your core. You shudder as his come trickles down your thighs, your cunt clenching around nothing. 

“Such a pretty sight,” he murmurs, entranced, as he gathers himself over his fingers and pushes it back inside you. “Try to keep as much as you can inside.” To emphasize his want for it, he slides your underwear up your legs. 

You’re tied to him now. And even though you shouldn’t, you enjoy being the one near the beast. Joel helps you dress, at least helps you with what remains, and gives you his leather jacket to wear since your shirt is in ruins. Neither of you says a word as you walk back to where Jacob’s body rests. You help him bury the body, not feeling a single thing; no grief, no remorse, no sadness. 

You always did have a complicated relationship with death after all. 

[ellecdc]

Nsfw!

Moonwater is a bit new pairing for me and i love it too much but i always wonder how the dynamic are in the bedroom, i really dont think both men are anything other than rough.

I mean when needed the boys would be gentle but most of the time i dont think so? Remus, maybe? could be gentler but during full moon he’s an animal but regulus tho, i dont see him as the gentle type.

What do you think?

oooou ok ok I like it, I like it; let's discuss below

CW: discussing sex and dynamics, NSFW, mdni 18+

So, this first part is going to be my own personal opinion based off of who I am as a person, and my views may not be shared within the fandom. I personally struggle with super abrasive dom/sub dynamics where a male character is very overbearing, controlling, etc. THAT DOESN'T MEAN I DON'T LIKE ANY DOM/SUB DYNAMICS, just that fics where a male character is being super aggressive and demeaning and such really aren't my vibe, if that makes sense?

I personally struggle imagining our sweet, sad boy Remus as being super mean in bed? Doesn't mean I don't think he's in charge, especially in poly!scenarios because when there's that many people in bed, someone has to run the show lol, but I don't see him as super bossy and assertive.

Now, keeping in mind that this is my interpretation on a character who literally doesn't exist (which is so sad wtf), my version of 'dom!remus' looks more like a very assured, confident guy in bed; he knows what he's doing, he's good at it, and he knows how to get everyone where they're trying to go (i.e., orgasm city, obviously). He takes care of everyone in bed, and (in the case of poly!marauders or poly!wolfstar) he certainly redirects anyone's naughty (bratty) behaviour (read: sirius), but I think he'd also be super communicative and understanding that it's a dance, not a battle which adds to his assuredness and confidence in bed because people feel safe with him - they know that he knows what he's doing and can let go because they trust him with their safety and their pleasure - and he's in bed with his partner's, not his adversaries.

I've often imagined his love language (how he shows love) to be acts of service and physical touch, which I think goes hand in hand with how he is in bed; when he's in a relationship with these ships, he's making love, not just fucking

HOWEVER.....

I think you're right...some things definitely change around the full moon. I think leading up to the moon (depending on if it was a manic moon or if he was moonsick) there'd be a very noticeable change in him. For manic moons - he'd be a little more desperate, a little rougher (while still being our sweet guy as mentioned above lol), and I think there would be way more sex. He'd be insatiable and obsessed with you; "come on dovey, one more for me, yeah? you're so good, so good for me; i know you can do one more". Good luck trying to pry him from between your legs.

if he was riddled with moonsickness (immediately after every moon or leading up to a bad moon where he is sore and such), i think he might be a bit of a switch? He'd want to be held and cherished and taken care of - he'd nearly cry in awe every time you got on your knees to give him a lazy, gentle blowjob, or if you were in the mood, he'd lay back and let you ride him (he actually loved it - thought you looked beautiful up there)

Now for Regulus lolololololol

No one who grew up in the dynamics Regulus did is vanilla in bed, I'm sorry. (and I come from a place of authority in this - I relate a little too well to Sirius [though not as violent, obviously]). Honestly? I could see Regulus being mean. And not in a super demeaning way that makes you feel small or embarrassed (again, this is my preference), but he takes pleasure in surprising you by suddenly flipping you over and taking you from a different angle. By suddenly and without warning changing the rhythm of his thrusts from soft and slow to deep and punishing. He'd love marking you up - possessive af and making sure everyone and anyone knew that not only were you taken, but you were his. In the same vain, I picture him as a bit of a sadist/masochist but again, not in a super violent or demeaning way. He'd like for the fuck to be a little rough, a little hard; he loves the mixture of pleasure and pain - wants to be bit so hard he bleeds and wouldn't mind doing the same to you if you asked for it. I also think he'd be willing to try a lot of new things in bed, and some of his favourite sex is when you fuck him with a strap [if you're fem or afab].

Together?

I think Rem is still in charge - again, he's confident and assured in the bedroom and everyone trusts his authority and trusts him to keep them safe and satisfied. He would keep Reg from getting too rough or going too hard and would constantly check in to make sure you were still good with everything going on. He'd also be able to satiate any need in Reg regarding his masochistic tendencies. I believe Reg would bottom in the dynamic, but again, I think sometimes depending on the moon and how Rem is feeling mentally - he'd experiment more fluidly with Reg.

I've also mentioned before that I believe Purebloods have a breeding kink and with Remus' animalistic side due to his lycanthropy, that he would too. So I think there would be a lot of using cum as lube, taking turns filling you up with their cum, maybe some snowballing??? jesus christ I'm a sick fuck lmfao. anything to do with cum would send those boys spiralling, "no no babygirl, don't waste it" Rem would coo as he used his fingers to push cum back into your hole. or "whose do you want next, amour? Mine or Rem's?"

And I think you're right, when the time called for it, these boys would be so fucking good at making you feel nothing short of fucking worshipped. The soft, hungry gazes, the lingering and soothing touches, the praises falling from their lips as they gave you everything they got. I'd cry I think; they'd reduce me to tears for sure.

[callooopie]

Modern!au Davos who's hooking up with one of his friends from their big friend group but they have to keep it a secret

Situation Situationship // Modern!Davos

I don’t want your body. But I hate to think about you with somebody else — Somebody Else // The 1975

chat I think I went too sad and not funny with this

What Davos offers you is a beneficial relation between you two. A humble friend’s with benefits scenario, a situationship if you will. An agreement between two friends born out of boredom and driven by the need to just fuck things out. This would have to not affect your friendship, with both of you sharing a friend group; the possible chaos of a relationship between you two would be too much. Rules were then set out: no pda, no posting, no exclusivity.

Plus you were already sorta talking to someone and he was a guy who didn’t like being tied down. And both of you knew that a breakup between you two would make the friend group weird. So Davos couldn’t really complain when you would talk about your other dates or some other guy. He bit his tongue as he let you vent about what went wrong, or what could’ve been better. Oh, that guy didn’t pay? Damn, you should always pay for the pretty girls. This was his grave, and he would lie in it.

Despite this being his idea, Davos really hates it actually. Which is a little funny. The thing that he insisted would not happen, happened to him. It’s a little hard not to fall in love, or not to become attached to you when you’re the only one who seems to understand him. In the daylight when you’re hanging out with the group, when your eyes don’t leave him as he talks, when you text him throughout the day about anything and everything. Your closest friend—Davos. Even worse when it grows into night and he’s in your bed or you’re in his. He does want to tell you to stop doing aftercare so good; the way you caress his face and card your fingers through his hair makes him feel too many things better left unsaid. He refrains from saying anything.

And maybe he thinks the no PDA rule is stupid too. He sees how his friends touch and hold their girls, his own fingers twitching by his side as he watches the displays. He wonders if you think about it too. If you think about the feel of his hand in yours, how different it could be in the daytime. How your held hands could swing back and forth as you walk along a path. Maybe he would pull you into a store that catches his eye, or down an alley to press you against the wall. He wonders if you like it when he holds your hand at night. Do you like it when his fingers press open your closed palm, interlacing his fingers with yours? He always thinks about how your hand is smaller than his. He knows it makes you shiver, his fingertips trailing down your back; he hopes his calloused hands feel gentle against your soft body, maybe just as soft as his kisses. He likes when you sit in his lap, because then he can look into your eyes as his hands slowly run down your spine. No matter the reason however, Davos knows his hand wouldn’t leave yours. Day or night, rain or shine. If the rule did not exist.

Secretly he either blocks your social media accounts or simply deletes the apps off his phone. He wasn’t a big user on those anyways, and to see you post about dates or what you’re wearing to them drives him up a wall. Davos doesn’t wanna think about it but he does; he lets his mind wander to what you would wear to a date with him. Would you like something more formal? A nice restaurant? Or maybe a laidback affair, a movie at his place where you could snack and hide under the blankets. He would offer you his hoodie, would you take it? You already wear his clothes when you’re around anyways, rifling through his closet like a little animal in search of the softest fabrics to wear after you two finish. Sometimes when you’re looking with your back turned to Davos, he’ll stare at you as you pick up shirts or toss them aside. He’ll say he’s attracted to your body, the way it curves or shifts with each singular step or movement. But Davos also knows different; he’s staring past the skin, past your intricate body, and looking—hoping—for you to turn back to meet his gaze. You never leave with them, no. You always give them back before you leave.

He wonders if you’ll think him pathetic or weird, if he begs you to stay. Davos isn’t sure what’s come over him this early morning. It’s your usual routine; you both get up, he makes coffee, you get dressed to leave. Davos knows he’ll throw up if he so much as takes a sip of the warm coffee, feeling too tense and anxious about what he could do—what he wants to do. You’re oblivious maybe, or you’re just ignoring how strange he’s acting today. His thoughts are racing: Don’t look at your phone, keep your eyes on him. Don’t turn away from him, don’t step toward the door. Don’t, don’t, don’t. Davos can’t believe it himself that he’s reached you before you’re even out the door. His breathing heavy as his hand remains wrapped around your wrist. His stomach does somersaults as you look back at him. Davos swallows thickly, he’s this deep in already, might as well keep going.

Whatever the outcome of his stupidity this morning; he hopes you’ll be at least somewhat kind in letting him down as he spills his heart out to you…

[priceyprice]

Prof!Price

"Do you think the professor's hot?"

She stopped writing in her notebook, trying to process the question her friend asked. It was late at night, and everything was quiet around her. She was on a call with one of her friends from class, trying to do an assignment together since it was difficult doing it alone. They found out it was more efficient calling each other because they could share their notes and answers.

"Who are you talking about?"

"Who else? The professor from literature." She tensed, chest tightening with that familiar but obnoxious feeling at the seductive tone she used to say professor from literature.

She dropped her pen in the middle of her notebook to pay full attention to her friend's words. "The professor from literature?"

"Yes! Have you seen him?"

She cleared her throat. Of course she's seen him. In fact, she has seen every part of him.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh my gosh!" Her friend said in an annoyance tone, feeling frustrated she wasn't getting the point. But, she was obviously getting the fucking point. She just can't admit it out of the blue. "He's so hot. I know he's a serious man inside and outside the classroom, but hey, his face and his body... oh my, my... I would totally fuck a man like that."

Her face frowned upon the last words, looking at her friend's name from her phone —since the call was on speaker— as if she's in front of her. That uncomfortable feeling rose throughout all her body like a fountain.

Her friend was looking at the professor with other eyes than the academic figure.

She's pretty sure her friend is not the only girl with her panties wet for the professor from literature. Professor Price is a man who has charisma. His big bulk of a body and his electrifying blue eyes possess an aura that can either intimidate you or make you flustered. The way he talks with people with his low and calm voice, as if he's going to sing the most romantic tune, ever existed. Also, the way he walks, the way he dresses, the way he styles his beard... Everything from Professor Price screams perfection.

It's not difficult for someone to get attracted to the professor.

But stil.

She didn't like how other girls looked at him like he was the most expensive dish served on a silver plate, ready to be devoured. Even though his eyes only stayed on her, she was the only one who could look at him like that.

She was the only one who could actually devour that expensive dish.

She was jealous.

The phantom touch of rough hands around her ankles made her throw a little gasp while pushing the rolling chair backward. "Shh..." Her heart skipped a beat when she hears that low and rough voice beneath her. She looked down at her desk, just to find the protagonist of her conversation with her friend kneeling in front of her;

Professor Price.

He was wearing his usual attire for work. The only difference was his white long-sleeved shirt unbuttoned by the first few buttons, leaving a glimpse of his hairy chest and making him look like some sexy star magazine. His hair was slightly disheveled, probably by all the times he passed his fingers through it. His icy blue eyes were accompanied by some eyebags under it, revealing the tiredness he was accumulating within these days that had passed thanks to the amount of work and reunions he was receiving.

"What are you doing?!" She whispered-yelled taking a rebel strand of hair that went in front of her face when she moved her chair. His thumb caressed softly the skin of her ankles before pulling her to him again, earning a soft gasp from her parted lips. His face ended up resting on her right thigh, eyes closing to the warm feeling her skin radiates.

"'Missed you." He said, placing a soft kiss to her thigh, making her wriggle a bit at the sensation his lips left. "'Missed you so much." He started to leave a trail of soft kisses on her thigh as his hands worked its way to the back of her knees, opening her legs so he could have more room between them. His hands traveled to either side of her hips, taking the waistband of her shorts trying to pull them down.

Her eyebrows raised all the way up, almost comically, ignoring the burning feeling he was making inside of her and focusing on the panic when she realized what he was doing, quickly stopping him. "Wait, Price, we can't do that here." She said, placing her hands on either side of his head trying to separate his lips from her skin, but it was in vain. He was much stronger than her.

Price's hands grasped hers in a soft motion. His thumb caressed her delicate fingers. "Why not? We are in my home. Nobody's watching."

"I'm talking with someone, Price."

"Then be quiet, love." He said before continuing where he left, placing his hands on the waistband of her shorts, his fingers curling the fabric before tugging it down her legs.

Truth be told, Price doesn't give a fuck who is she talking to. He's too tired and consumed by all the work he had these past days, that he's left with nothing but the thought of her beautiful face bringing him the peace he needs.

They couldn't almost see each other within the university halls besides his classroom. His home too, where he'd often find her asleep on his couch or his bed because he was leaving late from the university's office. In the early mornings, he just kissed her a soft goodbye waking her up just for her to see his silhouette leaving the room to go and finish more paperwork he had left the day before.

A sigh could be heard from the other line of the call. "Too bad he isn't open enough to know his relationship status."

A little gasp escaped from her lips when she felt his hot lips put pressure on the wet patch that was starting to form in her soft underwear. A jolt of electricity passed through all her body when he placed another kiss in the same spot, making her jump slightly.

His lips turned into a smile. His hands started caressing the soft flesh of her thighs. "Answer her, love." he said before placing an open-mouthed kiss on the wet spot, passing his tongue through the fabric, feeling the rapid pulses of her pearl. She opened her mouth with a low moan as her hands found a way into his hair.

"Y-Yes... he doesn't... he doesn't let... anyone know."

She tried to calm her frenetic breathing from giving away what was happening on her side of the phone, but it was too difficult. Her back arched when his warm tongue put pressure on her sensitive bud, feeling the wet fabric caress it.

"P-Price, p-please." Her words were shaking in her throat along with a few moans. "What?" He asked, looking up at her beautiful face contorted in nothing but pleasure. Her hand puts a little bit more pressure on the crown of his head, as if inviting him to keep going. "T-Take it off."

"Your underwear?"

She nodded.

"No. I'll take it off when I want to."

He grasped her legs with both hands and threw them over his shoulder, now completely open to him. He rested his hands on her hips, looking at the —big—wet patch, now transparent where he could slightly see through her white underwear the outlines and the color of her folds and her pearl, pulsating against the fabric with desire. Price started at it as if he were a starved man with his last meal in front of him, waiting, inviting him to taste it.

That sent him goosebumps all over his body. His mind glowing with sinful thoughts made him almost blind from the desire.

"Keep talking with her, love. You don't want to let her know that the professor you guys are talking about is the same one between your legs." He said before diving his head again between her thighs.

His tongue made its way with her, taking big laps from her folds to her clothed bud, making her gasps now with full force on his short hair. "F-Fuck..."

"You know, sometimes I think he's married."

She opened her mouth to only let out a soft whimper. His tongue now moving easily with saliva and arousal pooled between her underwear.

"Y-You think so?" She threw her head back into the chair in a blinding pleasure. He was literally making out with her intimate area as if it was her mouth. Opened kisses and pressed his tongue all over her, caging her between his large hands like a lion with a bone between his paws.

He wanted to take her underwear off. Oh, he's been craving to see her bare since the second he stepped into his home. But he knows how loud they can be. He knows how loud the obscene sounds her sweet area makes. He knows the high-pitched moans she does when she's close. He knows everything from head to toe. And he can't risk the other person hearing those sweet sounds coming from her mouth and body.

Of course, he knows her very well.

She's his lover.

"Yeah! I mean, he doesn't look at the other female professors with other eyes than work." His tongue started to draw circles around her bud, sending shock waves through her stomach. Even with the underwear in the middle, she could feel his soft tongue in contrast with the hairs of his beard and mustache tickling her sensitive zone, along with the hairs of his cheeks grazing her inner thighs up and down everytime he licks her.

It was driving her crazy.

"But, there was a rumor."

She bit her lip, trying to stop a whimper rolling from her tongue before speaking; "R-Really? W-what rumor?"

"That he and the professor from marketing were dating." Before she even had the time to think those words and let that jealousy feeling rise up her chest, a chocked moan escaped her lips when she felt his tongue and underwear entering her entrance. Her hips buckled so fast to his face that the chair made a loud squealing sound.

"Is everything okay?"

"Y-Yes!" She said, sounding a little bit more high-pitched than normal. "I almost... fell from my ch-chair. D-Don't worry..."

"Oh, be careful... So, someone who's studying marketing told me that their professor was looking at him like..." Her friend really wanted to spill some kind of false tea, but unfortunately she lost the topic of the conversation the second his tongue was in her entrance, not even caring what was happening around her, only the man and the skillful tongue between her legs.

"Price..." She said when he returned to her now puffy bud giving circles around it. She opened her eyes to stare down just to find his blue ones already looking at her.

Beautiful, he thought. Her hair was in a few directions, while her forehead was glistening with a few droplets of sweat and a few strands plastered on her skin. Her cheeks were red, and her mouth was opened, letting out soft and low noises.

"J-Just fuck me."

"No. After you finish your call, I promise to fuck you like the goddess you are." He continued to circling her bud now putting a little bit more pressure.

She was starting to feel that familiar knot in her stomach. Unconsciously, her hips started to buckle from the chair and getting closer to his face continuously to make that release faster.

"I know you're close, love. Come on, give yourself to me."

He started going faster with his tongue as she started to go faster with her hips, almost making a rhythm to match each other. Her fingers were so secured in his hair, giving painful stings to his scalp, but he didn't mind.

Not when his lover is a mess and he's the cause of it.

She felt all her muscles tense at the same time her legs started to tremble. Her hips worked faster and faster each second, trying desperately to get that release.

Only one last suck to her sensitive bud was all it took to unleash what she was searching for.

Every fiber exploded at the same time her orgasm clashed down in powerful waves. Her mouth hanged open, chocking back a scream that was forming on the depths of her throat. "John...!" She looked at the ceiling, her vision getting blurry for a second.

All the strength was leaving her body and soul as she collapsed back on the chair. Her legs dropped from his shoulders, and her hand left his now totally disheveled hair. Her chest was rapid with her unsteady breathing, her blood pleading for some oxygen. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying not to make a loud noise and raise suspicion on her friend. Although that wasn't necessary since her friend was rambling about the rumor without taking a break to breathe.

He separate a little from between her thighs, noticing how her arousal made all her underwear drenched and a few droplets falling in the leather cushion of the chair. His muscles tensed at the very erotic sight in front of him.

His hands made way to the waistband of her panties, slowly taking it off her legs and securing them in his pockets. He could see her glistening folds and puffy pearl now bare and open to him, inviting him for another round. And as almost tantalizing that view was for him, he kept his composure and was going to wait until she finished her call as he promised.

He gave a chaste kiss to her bud, her hips bucking as she hissed at the hypersensitivity she was feeling. He trailed kisses down her thighs to her legs, and then he ended with a final kiss on her ankles before caressing them one last time and muttering an 'I love you' without her hearing it.

A few minutes passed, and she opened her eyes only to find herself alone again, as if he didn't take a step into his home office where she was.

"So, what do you think?"

She tried to compose herself, wincing when she felt parts of her arousal that was left in the chair in contact with her sensitive area. She looked down, seeing all the mess she had made.

I'm blaming this on him.

She's pretty sure if he was still there, he would've said, "You were not complaining when you made that mess."

She could hear the faint noise of the shower running from his room that was two doors down the hall , maybe preparing himself before actually having his way with her.

She straightened herself, passing her hands through her hair, taking a few wet strands plasted on her forehead behind her ears. She accommodated her shirt, not bothering to look for her underwear since it was all ruined now. She was going to take a shower after this or join him.

She cleared her throat. "About the rumor...?"

She already heard that rumor. That took surface, and after a few days, everyone was talking about it. That caused a few problems between her and her lover, but he cleared everything and told her it was just her having a crush on him since he can remember, but she has been with other men to take money from them. Of course, since she knows Price is a man with a few dollars on his account, she wanted to have her way with him. But that didn't happen.

While a few professors and students find her like someone sexy and secure, Professor Price finds her disgusting.

Nothing like my little love, he thinks.

"No, silly! About the professor."

Her lips curled into a small smile, feeling tired about the way her soul almost leaves her body in that orgasm caused by the very one Professor Price.

"Yeah... He's not that bad."

part 2 here

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

I apologize for the shitty writing. I'm not good at writing these types of scenes + my first language it's not english.

Comments and suggestions are appreciated 🫶🏻.

[adaelines]

Could you write smth about Ghost x reader where he goes into a rut and manhandles reader after he sees other people flirting with them 🧎

Hope everything is going okay for you!! Love your work

thank u so much!! i am. so weak for alpha si i wanna fuck him so bad!!! afab reader but genderneutral, jealous simon whos been away from you for too long, he calls you a whore but affectionately, needy and desperate jus how i like it

Working with so many men is never easy. Working with this many alphas, every one of them confident, bold, every masculine quality amplified tenfold by their secondary gender, is even harder as an omega. The army was full of alphas trying to prove themselves, prove how strong and powerful they truly were, that they could provide for and care for any omega they wanted to.

It led to many unwanted situations. Fights over nothing, simple actions being misconstrued as meaning more, rut and heat season was hell on earth. 

Being mated to Simon 'Ghost' Riley made it easier, bearable, you never had to worry about unwanted advances or a person's hand placed somewhere that made you a bit too uncomfortable, not when Simon would quickly be there, teeth bared under his mask at whatever fool was brave enough to mess with you. 

He knew he could trust you, knew that other alphas testing the waters around you was never your fault, not when you so proudly presented yourself as entirely his, the bite on your neck something you were happy to show, always scented by him. Even when he'd been away on missions, separated from you, he never left without making sure your nest was full of him, his clothes, anything that would make the void in your chest a little smaller. The same way he kept something of yours on him at all times. You both knew it could never replace each other, but it helped in his absence. Time away was never easy, not when you both had a biological need to be close, to stick together through anything.

Simon had just returned from one of his prolonged absences, nerves short and hands twitching with the need to hold you, mark you as his after this much time apart, so when he witnessed a younger alpha attempting to charm you, someone he hadn't seen around you before, he was far from happy. 

He'd normally ward anyone off with a harsh glare, a hand on your shoulder and his large presence enough to warn anyone that you were his, that they'd be stupid to even think of trying anything, teeth bared under his mask. 

But it was different this time, he hadn't had you to himself in so long, stuck humping his fist like a dog in heat instead of burying himself inside your warmth like he wanted. He had missed you. Missed being in your company, kissing along your skin and making you beg. 

Seeing someone so close to you, no regard for who you belonged to or the fact that you were already mated, had Simon seeing red. His grip on your wrist was harsh, and when you turned around to push away whoever grabbed you, shout at them until they let you go, you immediately went weak, slack and pliant in his hold. The younger man immediately yelped at the intensity of Simon's glare, scampering away like a dog with his tail between his legs. He'd been caught toying with something that wasn't his, and Simon was more than happy to make him pay

Later. Simon couldn't bare to be apart from you, right now, wanted nothing more than to shove you against the nearest wall and make you scream for him, he wanted to abuse your cervix, wanted to leave proof of his existence all over you, wherever he could, needed to fuck you as hard and as fast and as rough as he could.

With you pliant against him, simply happy to be back in his arms, it wasn't hard for Simon to pick you up, throw you over his shoulder, and carry you back to your nest. He had to have you, as soon as he could, he wanted to be inside you and remind you who you belong to, who you were mated to. 

It wasn't hard for Simon to get you back to your nest quickly, to pin you on your shared bed below him, push his balaclava up enough to capture your lips in a scorching kiss, pressing his body down against yours, effectively pinning you below him.

It was so overwhelming. You could feel him everywhere, smell him everywhere, and when he pulled back to instead nose at your pulse point, the whine that left you was downright debauched, filthy. Filthy like you, you could imagine Simon saying, if he wasn't too busy biting into your neck, grinding his hips down to keep you in place.

Your nails digging into the back of his uniform only spurred him on further, only motivated him for more. When one of your hands moved up, gently playing with the ends of his balaclava, asking for his permission to remove the rest, he let out a low noise that you took as permission. Seeing his entire face was always a pleasure, always left your mind hazy and warm. Having such a privilege to yourself felt good, knowing just how much he trusted you to allow you to see him, all of him.

Simon pulled back, his large hands on your hips practically pulling you back to slot against where he knelt, panting on top of you. Finally having you beneath him, where you belonged, lit a fire inside of him. Perhaps it was his rut starting, or perhaps it was just how badly he needed you, but his insides felt like they were on fire, cock so hard it hurt. 

"Pretty fuckin thing below me," Simon growled, moving his hands from your hips to below your knees, manhandling them to press into your chest, practically folding you in two. "Missed you so much. Wanted you so bad, spent so many nights fuckin' my fist thinking of this…" 

Whining his name loudly, you arched into him, attempting to rub yourself against him, against anything. With the position you were in, you could feel his belt against your clit, even that was almost too much, almost painful with how much you needed more of him. 

"Desperate, huh?" Simon grinned, rolling his hips against you, leaning down so it was his chest holding your legs down against your own, "Sweet thing, don't worry… I'll fuck you so hard you'll have to stay in our nest for a while. Such a pretty thing, so desperate, needy fuckin' whore, huh?"

You could tell he meant it, tell that he would happily keep you here for as long as he could, as long as you would allow him. The idea of you entirely depending on him was almost enough to make him whine in need, he was always so desperate for you, always wanted to be by your side.

"Get ready, pup," He practically growled, the grin on his face almost a snarl. "Gonna fuck you so full…"

[iliketangerines]

corruption

a/n: mmmm, oh to be in between jake and neytiri @neteyamsoare @inlovewithpandora

pairing: jake sully x gn!metkayina!reader x neytiri

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), mentions of fucking

you are so different, so sweet and tender and adorable, but you’re also the olo’eyktan’s eldest child, Tonowari and Ronal’s

Neytiri’s tail curls up behind her as she stares at you, and she glances at Jake next to her, eyes just as transfixed on you as hers

the children laugh as you teach them how to mix certain herbs together just in case of a small injury and they’re alone and make a silly little joke

your laugh is addicting, sweet as an ambrosia and as luring as a honey-coated trap, and both Jake and Neytiri were not immune to your charms

the worst part is that you’re not even aware of the effect you have on them, walking past them with a soft smile and a nod of acknowledgement before going back to your own business

it drove the both of them wild, and they spent many sleepless nights staring up at the roof of their marui pod and thinking of you in between them

they craved you, wished to have you for themselves, to taste your lips and your skin, and to have you in between your bodies, flushed and sweaty

Neytiri wonders if you would whine loudly as she kissed you, would your hands come up to desperately grip onto her shoulders as she pulled you in deeper

she thinks you would gasp and whimper for more every time she pulled away for air, and she wants to cover you in her bites, to claim every part of you as hers

Jake wonders how you would sound as he fucks into you, watching as your lips wrapped around his cock and how your wide eyes would blink at him

he wonders if your body is just as soft as it looks, plump with the fish you caught and ate, snacking on some small bits when you thought no one was looking

but you’re still lean, covered in muscle, wide shoulders and a broad chest from swimming and holding onto the ilu and tsurak through the drag of the water

your legs are just as strong, muscles tensing and flexing with every time you pull at the nets and drag in heaps of fish

you would be the perfect mate, strong and caring and oh so beautiful, and he can imagine you with your own litter of kids running around you

Neytiri watches as you pick up one of the kids effortlessly and place them on your shoulders and play with them as you wait for their parents come back from fishing and pick up their children

she had seen how you were with Lo’ak, Neteyam, and Tuk before, soft and caring and never seeing them as different for having Jake as their parent

picking at the bone knife, she clears her throat and walks over to you, and you beam at her and call for Tuk

her youngest bounds toward her and wraps her arms around Neytiri, telling her mother all about the day that she had, and you laugh and ruffle Tuk’s hair and say to give your mother some time to relax, she looked tired

Neytiri’s tail twitches behind her as Jake smiles and says goodbye to you, and the two of them leave with Tuk in tow, listening to her admire and adore you

they want you to be a third parent to their children so badly, to hold you in their arms, and to have every bit of you

neither of them can help snooping around you, it’s how they found that despite your age, you never had a partner, claiming that you simply hadn’t found the right one

Tonowari and Ronal didn’t push for you to find a mate either, letting you take your time, and Jake Neytiri so badly want to court you, to make you theirs

they want to hear your sweet moans and gasps, to teach you every part to touch and to discover places inside you that you never knew existed

patience, the opportunity will come, and they will be able to court you properly and then they will ruin every part of you

[softpascalito]

Pregnancy Sex with Javier Peña

Summary: You're pregnant, Javier is overprotective. The problem: You're also really fucking horny.

Relationships: Javier Peña x Reader

WC: ~2600

Tags/Warnings: MNDI!, Explicit, Smut, F/M, Established Relationship, Pregnant Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal FIngering, Penis in Vagina Sex, Aftercare, Idiots in Love, Creampie, this is equally soft and filthy

AO3 LINK

Notes:

hello loves! i have quite literally not written smut in years but i needed this to exist so here we are. some feedback or just a short comment means the world to me. and now enjoy! <3 - lea

_________________________________________________________

The curtains blew in the wind, moved by a gentle breeze. Bogotá was rarely peaceful. Even in the night, sirens and occasional gunshots could be heard, disturbing a city that was trying to sleep, trying to find some kind of peace in the dark.

For a long time, you hadn't thought it possible for something like peace to exist in this place. Then you had met Javier Peña.

And at first, he too had seemed like the furthest thing from peace. He was all marlboro reds and sleepless nights and gentle, brown eyes that had seen far too many people die.

You'd been sick this morning. Not actually sick though. 

Morning sickness had been plaguing you for a few weeks but up until now, it hadn't been as bad. Your body had flat out refused to keep anything down, including the medication that was supposed to help lower the light fever you'd developed by mid morning. 

Javier had insisted on getting Connie to take a look at you. If he had been overprotective of you before the pregnancy, you weren't sure how to describe his current state. Carrying a grocery bag by yourself was considered a high danger by the Agent, no matter how light it was. To everyone's surprise, the protectiveness hadn't stopped with you. He had not only started carrying said grocery bags himself but he'd also stopped smoking, which was considered nothing short of a miracle by everyone around you.

After his brief chat with Connie, he had taken half the day off, staying behind to take care of you even though you'd insisted you were fine.

At first, he had seemed like the furthest thing from peace. Then you'd gotten to know him and in return he'd gotten you pregnant. And suddenly Javier Peña had given you a peace and love so deep, you still couldn't fully comprehend it. You weren't sure he could either.

The sickness had lessened over the day, aided by Javi actually getting you to eat a little something for dinner. You had fallen asleep on the couch a short while later. Now, you were in bed, happy to have kept your food down. Still, your pregnancy had left you with a completely different kind of problem.

“Javi?” You mumbled into the dark, unsure if he was already asleep. It only took a second for him to sit up, turning to face you. Even with nothing but the low light from the street falling in through the windows, you could see the worry on his face.

“What do you need, querida?” His voice was a little rougher than usual after not having spoken in a while. Maybe he had in fact already been asleep.

“Nothing.” You mumbled, giving a small shrug. You felt stupid. This was stupid.

Javier sensed that there was some sort of hesitation on your part and he shifted a little, reaching out for you:” C'mere.” He whispered. You obliged, cuddling into his side as you looked up at him. He gave you a small smile and you couldn't help but lean forward, pressing a small kiss to his lips. Javier kissed back gently, never with too much force.

Taking initiative, you prodded his lips with your tongue until he opened his mouth a tiny bit, allowing you entrance. Your hand that had been resting on his chest slid down his shirt. Before he could realize what was happening, it had dipped under his waistband of his boxers and your hand was gently wrapped around him.

Javier finally broke the kiss and sucked in a breath:” Querida..” He mumbled. Just as you felt him twitch, he moved. Ever so gently, his hand followed yours and carefully led it back up to his chest, placing it there with a small pat. You pouted at him, even in the dark:” Look, don't laugh, please. Just, sometimes the hormones-”

“get you really fucking horny?” He asked with a small smirk, completing the sentence for you.

You frowned at him. His hand was still on yours and you turned it a little so your fingers could intertwine:” How do you know about that?”

“Read it in a book.” He replied simply. You raised your brows, unable to suppress a small giggle:” The book said “really fucking horny” ?”

“Something along those lines.” A low chuckle escaped his throat. You stayed like that for a moment, both grinning, holding hands. Then he spoke again, this time more softly.

“I don't want to hurt you.”

You had never thought you'd hear Javier Peña say that. Not that he had ever wanted to hurt you. He was an attentive lover and he was always careful not to go too rough on you. Clearly you weren't the only one changed by the pregnancy.

“I'm not asking you to hurt me. Im asking you to fuck me.” You hummed, again bold enough to take the lead as you rolled on top of him and sat up slightly. Your bump was barely showing and the shirt you had stolen from him hid most of it but a tiny curve was showing through the fabric, standing proudly over Javier's own stomach.

He opened his mouth to undoubtedly continue the discussion when you slowly began to grind your hips on him. Whatever argument he'd had prepared gave way for the breathy moan that escaped his throat.

It took him every ounce of self-control to not give in right there and then. When you leaned down to kiss him again, he took the chance and gently grabbed your hips, lifting you off him and returning you into a more comfortable position beside him:” Baby...”

He took a deep breath, propping himself up on his elbow to get a better look at you:” You sure you want this?”

You huffed:” Yes, I am sure. If you read the stupid book, you know its safe and-”

“Okay, okay.” He held up his hands in defense:” Just making sure.” His large hand wandered over your hair before gently caressing your cheek:” We'll do this my way.”

Even if you were unsure what he meant by that exactly, you gave a small nod. He had never not been good to you. You only hoped he wasn't trying to be too good.

Javier gently grabbed his pillow and gently pushed it under your back:” Let me take care of you.” He mumbled as he guided you to lie back into your own pillow, evidently trying to make sure you were as comfortable as possible. As he moved around you and adjusted the blankets, you got a good look at him. 

You weren't sure if it was the situation or the attention you had given him earlier but you could tell his boxers were getting uncomfortably tight. He didn't seem to mind, taking his time in making the surroundings perfect for you- you weren't sure exactly how the blanket next to you was going to heighten your sexual pleasure, but you were happy he was at least doing something.

Eventually, he returned his attention to your body and gently grabbed your ankle, running his hand all the way up your leg until it was resting on your upper thigh. His thumb brushed over the soft skin on the inside of it, drawing half-circles. You squirmed under his touch, trying to push yourself against him.

“So impatient .” He chuckled but he did use his other hand to slowly push up your shirt:” Have I told you how sexy you look in my clothes?” It came out as a mumble and you gave a small grin as you raised your arms to help him slide it off:” You have.”

“Good,” came his reply. He brought up both his hands to gently cup your breasts as he leaned down to kiss you again:” Just checking.”

He let his hands wander down to your round stomach and you could see his gaze change. He had those large, round puppy eyes that were reserved for those who knew him best and that always got the better of you- even now. Making you forget the need between your legs, you instead settled contently on watching him caress your stomach.

Javi apparently felt the same, taking his time to gently rub it before leaning down to give it a few kisses. He hummed softly as he kissed a trail down to the upper end of your panties. They slid down your legs in one quick motion and another soft kiss of the thigh was all you got before you felt his mustache brush against you.

He looked up at you for a fleeting moment:” Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

You nodded quickly. The need had returned and you wanted nothing more than to feel him.

Javi licked a stripe up your slit, immediately drawing a moan from you as you let your head fall back. He alternated between soft kisses and gently sucking on your clit, running his tongue over every inch between your legs before finally plunging it inside.

Your hand automatically wandered into his hair, pulling gently as you tried not to fall apart right away. 

His name left your lips more times than either of you could count, starting out as a soft moan and quickly turning into a whimper, begging for more.

“Javi, por favor.”

“Está bien, I got you.” He muttered, the vibrations of his voice adding an extra layer of intensity to the feeling of his mouth on you. He added one finger and when he realized how wet and open you were, a second one. 

The feeling of his large fingers moving in and out of you combined with his tongue still on your clit brought you to the edge faster than you wanted.

“Please, want you inside,” You whispered, gazing down at his brown curls peeking out between your thighs. He raised his head at that and you could see him carefully studying your face, his hair already messy from your attacks. Neither of you really cared. If anything, you thought it looked good on him.

“You sure it's not too much?” He asked again, not yet quite moving to fulfill your wishes. You gave a small nod:” I'm sure.”

You must have sounded more secure than you actually were because he gave an approving look and then leaned back to slide down his boxers, his cock springing free immediately. He was already painfully hard and you could see the tip glistening.

Javi gently spread your legs a little further, always careful to keep the position comfortable. He rubbed his cock over your slit a few times before giving in and slowly, carefully pushing inside. Automatically, your hands found him again, this time gripping onto his upper arms for support as you took a few deep breaths. 

He kept a watchful glance on you as he bottomed out with a small groan and stilled inside of you, clearly wanting to give you some time to adjust to his size.

You silently marveled at his self control. It wasn't exactly a quality he had ever lacked but you could feel how he was shaking a little more than usual with the effort of staying still.

“Doing so well, querida.” He mumbled as he leaned down to kiss your cheek, always mindful to not put too much pressure on your stomach. You smiled softly and ran your hands up his arms until they were drawing small circles on his back. 

You squeezed a little, a sign he had come to understand for you being ready.

Very slowly, he started to pull out again- just to slide right back in. He let out a groan that mixed with yours. Clearly satisfied with the reaction, he repeated the motion again and again- speeding up ever so slightly with each thrust.

It was a different kind of lovemaking, slow and gentle and easy, like both of you had simply been made to fit together like this, molded against each other's bodies. It was perfect. It was Javi. A different Javi than you'd met months ago. But still Javi.

One of your hands wandered into his hair again and it wasn't long before your whimpers from before turned into downright prayers, whispering his name over and over again as you begged him to give you more. Javier had lost his initial reluctance, daring a bit more, as he too, whispered constant praise into your ear.

“Where?” He managed to choke out, knowing he wasnt gonna last much longer. You used the hand in his hair to pull him down towards you, meeting his lips with another kiss, humming into it:” Inside.”

He looked at you for a split second and you could feel his movements slow a bit as he clearly weighed his options.

“You know, I can't exactly get pregnant again.” You whispered, giggling a little under him. Javi gave you an adoring look and nodded:” Are you challenging me?”

His pace picked up and he kissed your cheek again as he aimed to hit that perfect spot that he knew made you feel so good.

“You're perfect, you know that, querida?” He mumbled:” You gonna come with me?”

You nodded eagerly and it only took a few more thrusts until you felt the pleasure wash over you, clenching down on him as you rode out your orgasm. Javi groaned your name, following suit and spilling inside of you just as you had requested.

When you came down from your high, you still felt his arms around you, holding you gently. He planted soft kisses all over your neck and down your collarbones, waiting for you to fully return to him. You were content to just lay there and stare at him and wonder how in the world you'd gotten so lucky.

He watched you with a smile:” What's going on in that head of yours? I didn't fuck you stupid, did I?” Javi ducked, chuckling when you playfully aimed for his head:'' Cabrón.” You muttered under your breath.

He didn't even try to hide his grin as he let go of you to carefully pull out. To your surprise, he was actually prepared, having a small towel ready that he used to clean you up, wiping down the reminiscents of your love-making.

As your brain slowly regained his normal function you, once again, couldn't control a small giggle. Javier glanced up at you with a raised brow as he put the towel aside:" What's so funny?"

"You read a book."

Javier managed his best to actually look offended:" I read books."

"A pregnancy book." You continued, giggling a little more. It was cute how hard he was trying. Javier slid up your panties again, making sure you were both dressed before he pulled the covers back over you.

As he returned to his spot next to you, you could spot a faint blush on his cheek. He grumbled something as he smoothed over the blanket, avoiding your gaze.

Your gaze softened a bit as your giggling died down:”Javi.” You mumbled, pulling him closer:” I think it's very sweet.” His shoulders visibly relaxed a little more at that and he sighed softly:” You do?”

“I do. Especially if it taught you to do that .” You teased gently as the two of you scooted closer, his arms finding their way around you once more as your eyes already started to droop:” Did it have any other world-changing tips to offer about pregnancy?”

Javier gazed down at you, taking in your relaxed face. He smiled.

” It said you should go to sleep. It's been a long day.”

You hummed contently as you felt him pressing a soft kiss to your lips and then one more to your forehead.

”Yeah, it has been.”

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i hope you liked this! dont forget to leave a comment if you did <3 if you want more of my unhinged horny thoughts, also check out my twt @softpascalito :)

[aurorawhisperz]

that’s what you get (e.l.)

contains: swearing, suggestive content, fluff, richie exists..

neighbor!ethan landry x fem!reader

a/n: THANK YOU GUYS FOR THE TROPES NOW IM GONNA BE POSTING MORE BY JULY 🦅🦅🦅 ethan is a bit of a meanie in this but he’s still little old him (maybe just gf ethan persona)

some tropes i used are: enemies to lovers, girl next door, forced proximity and best friend’s brother 🙏 (yk allat shit LOL) THERE WILL BE A PART 2!!

•

You knew for a fact that Quinn Bailey was your best friend—what made it even better is that you two could communicate through your windows, but one thing you also knew is that you didn’t like her brother, Ethan, he was your age, Quinn was older than you both. He would sometimes cut into your ‘girl talk’ since his room was right beside hers.

“Dammit!” You said as you banged on the door roughly. Your parents weren’t going to be home until tomorrow morning for something important, and you had left your keys inside the house. To make it even worse, it was raining.

A familiar voice startles you and has you snap out of all that stress. “(Name)?” says Quinn, covering herself with a blanket. I think it’s pretty obvious what she was doing just now.

“Quinn!” You called from below, your eyes widen at the sight of her covered body by the window. “I’ll..get back to you! Damn..” You hear her say something to an impatient guy, something about helping a friend—obviously that friend was you.

A few minutes later, she runs out in pink slip-ons and a purple nightgown with an umbrella. “Need help? Holy shit, you are soaking.” Quinn’s eyes widen at the sight of your outfit ruined. “And cold.” You add, then slamming your fist on the wall, “I left my keys inside.”

“Boo, it’s not that hard to knock on our door.” She chuckles, then you roll your eyes, “And deal with your brothers while you get to bang someone tonight? Yeah, right.” Her eyes then dart and she forces a smile out. “Ethan’s not that bad.”

You frown, “Yes, he is.”

“Baby, you’ll have to deal with it. I can’t stand Richie anymore.” Quinn complains, then she tugs on the sleeve of your wet cardigan to let you inside her ‘humble home.’

Grateful to be out of the pouring rain, the familiar smell of your best friend’s home fills your nostrils.

You both plop down on the plush couch, and she hands you a towel for your wet hair. Quinn then shoots you a playful smile, “Aside from our ‘interventions’, what did baby bro do this time to get on your nerves?” She asks.

“That’s about it, he wants to be the center of attention even when he’s not wanted.” You let out a sigh.

Quinn’s lips curl into a smirk, and she gently places a hand on your shoulder. “He's just trying to be a part of our bond, in his own misguided way. Ethan’s.. different, he’s fucking awkward and stuff but not around us because he’s more comfortable.”

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and understanding. “I guess I can try to tolerate him a bit more. For you. But he better stay out of our serious conversations.”

Quinn laughs and pulls you into a hug, the warmth of her embrace enveloping you. “That's the spirit! And don't worry, I'll make sure that jackass knows when to give us our space. Besties have their ways, you know.”

“What ways?” says Richie, holding an ‘I LOVE STAB’ coffee mug. You also know for a fact that you hated him more than Ethan—being the movie geek he is, not that it’s bad, it’s how he takes it too far and even gets touchy with others. “Ways to die.” You mutter, staring deep into his damned soul.

He nods nervously and heads back into his room. “Stay in there!” yells Quinn.

Once the silence has dissolved into thin air, she blurts out, “How about that tension?” Your eyes widen, eyebrows pinched together and lips parted in protest. “Sexual tension?” You repeat, your face going pale.

She nods cheekily, “SEXUAL?” You shriek. Quinn laughs at your reaction.

You then hear Quinn’s name from upstairs, “Ooh, priorities.” She avoids your gaze and then drags you back upstairs, “Q, don’t make me a third wheel tonight.” You roll your eyes as her grip on your arm tightens.

•

“What the hell?” is the first thing that comes out of Ethan’s mouth when Quinn pushes you into her room. “Quinn, and you. Get out!” He narrows his eyes. “E, I’ve got a guy waiting for me to go back.”

“Then tell him to fucking leave?” He shakes his head. “You’re a degenerate, you know that?” Ethan shoots back.

“Well, I’m not a virgin, so you don’t get a say in that.” Quinn lets out a corny smile and shakes her head, you can see Ethan gritting his teeth. “Do you want her to deal with Richie then?” She tilts her head slyly.

He sighs, “No.” she raises her hands and continues “That’s what I thought, love you both!” Quinn exits just as Ethan is about to flip her off.

You sit down on Ethan’s beanbag and all he does is stare.

He scoffs, “What brings you into my lair?” He crunches on a cheeto. You obviously refused to let his taunts get under your skin, “Spare me.” You retorted.

Ethan smirks, enjoying your discomfort, “Mighty (name) finds herself in a bit of a predicament, huh?”

“Unlike you, Eth, I don't have the luxury of living in a perfect little bubble where everything goes my way. So excuse me if I need a moment to think.” You tightly clench your fists.

“Can’t we just tolerate each other’s existence only for a little bit?” You complain, Ethan’s mouth turns into an “O” shape and he sarcastically remarks “Who can go the longest without being an asshole? You or me?”

“Me.” You pridefully chuckle. “This starts now.” He declares.

You have never heard silence quite this loud. The only thing you and Ethan have been doing for the past few minutes is stare at each other. Eye language perhaps?

His lips part at the sight of you.

While you did hate Ethan, there was always something telling you otherwise—you’d find yourself looking through his window, and if you timed it right, even got to see his muscles whenever he changes. (And it was hard to keep a straight face when you’d see it during your conversations with Quinn.)

What snaps you out of that thought is Ethan’s scoff, he then turns his head—then his gaze back to you. “It’s so dumb.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows pinch together in the middle, and your lips purse. “You know how Quinn gets to show off her man all she wants and how she’s so freaked out over everything they do—even when she’s..done those things so many times.” says Ethan.

Ethan then shrugs, “It’s just stupid.”, your eyebrows raise in agreement as you bit the inside of your cheek.

While you did hate Ethan, part of you..or most of you was telling you that he wanted you to give in—but give in to what? Being the muscular little thing he is, it’s hard to maintain your sanity when you see him without a shirt through his window. Practically drooling, but of course, you couldn’t let Quinn know.

Mainly because she’s so ‘Quinn’, she would probably tell him.

Behind the thin walls of her bedroom were sounds quite pathetic, you two burst into laughter up to the point where you both were crying.

You put a hand over your heart and leaned back on the beanbag.

“Are they THAT loud?” You ask, “Very.” He chuckles in response, this might be the only conversation you two could call a genuine conversation.

“This is really pervy of us to do, but we don’t have a choice, not like we can tune them out.” says Ethan as he grabs a Marvel plush and sits next to the beanbag you were on.

“It’s not like me and Quinn could tune you out.” You joke. A genuine smile tugs on the corners of Ethan’s plush lips. “Gee, you’re really being nice right now.” Your words laced with sarcasm tumbled out.

You had spent your entire life making sure Ethan would never fall for you, nor would you fall for him—and you failed.

It was like there’s nobody in the world right now but you two.

“Well, it’s part of the game right?” Ethan said, his eyes, half-lidded, looking up at you. “It doesn’t seem that much of a game anymore.” You kept your eyes on him, and he kept his on you as well.

Silence. Just silence. That was how much reality hurt.

This is also the closest you have ever been. There is only inches between you both, and you are close to giving in. Breaking the silence, “Maybe I should leave now, I’m not cold-” Ethan then stops your lips with a kiss. He pulls away and you are left with the sight of him hovering over you on the beanbag.

You kissed him back even longer, yes, you were kissing your enemy. It felt so wrong—but at the same time, it felt so right.

The smell of lemon zest surrounded you, along with his intoxicating aura. The thought then entered your head.

Hey, what if I just pulled away and ran like crazy?

Just as you’re about to pull away, he insists against your mouth, “Stay.” Ethan said, you could tell from how hot his lips were—he felt the same way. Out of control.

Ethan then turns you both over so that he was on the beanbag and you were straddling him.

His hands were sneaky enough to slide under the back of your shirt. “Just calming your nerves.” says Ethan as he rubs soothing circles on your lower back.

It was his shuddering breath that made you think this was a dream. Being woken up was the last thing you needed. Ethan whines into the kiss, and you smiled against him.

You then pull away with a small gasp escaping your lips when his hips jolt up into yours, your fist slammed against the wall as he did it twice.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry. It’s a reflex.” Ethan stammers as he sits up, moving you as well. “No, no! I just got startled. It’s fine, really.”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth then his hands grip the sides of your face. Ethan is kissing you once again.

Just kissing, this is the closest you’ll ever get. Maybe you’ll forget about it the next day, or maybe one day—you’ll look back and regret it. The kiss being hot and slow, and his arms wrapping around you.

Ethan slides his arms around you and pulls you closer.

The moment of bliss is then interrupted when Quinn knocks on the door. “Hello? Just making sure nobody’s dead yet.”

“Shit.” You whisper, and you get off Ethan and push him back to his bed.

She enters the room and looks around. “I’m surprised this hasn’t turned into a warzone yet.”

“Uh-huh.” Ethan nods, but he’s all shades of pink. “Why are you so red right now?” Quinn tilts her head and squints. His hands move to his face and he tries to think of an excuse.

“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Have some decency, we heard you in there.” You grumbled, she then chuckles and leans against the doorframe. “Sorry, if I..” Quinn twirls her red hair with her finger. “Cockblocked you.” She lets out an awful grin then locks the door—closing it.

Now you were definitely in some situation, I guess she’s getting suspicious now. There was nothing in the room aside from the kissing sounds..what else? Ethan’s whining, and your fist hitting the wall..

Wait a minute.

You were completely fucked. Do you and Ethan just forget about it now? Or do you have to keep up the strategy? You weren’t the type to forget such a heated kiss, but what about him?