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absurdthirst · 1 year

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Puppy Love {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 12.1k

Warnings: Mentions of pimping someone out, post apocalyptic morality, mentions of violence, guns, biting, infected, death, slapping, angst, anger, Joel being emotionally constipated, declarations of love, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, outdoors sex, pulling out, mentions of pregnancy/infertility

Comments: You always follow Joel Miller around, you've got his back. You're in love with him. Putting up with Tess's nickname of puppy dog, you don't realize that Joel feels for you until the end.

A/N: ~Contains spoilers for Episode 2~ Follows the episode along with some canon divergence.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Your eyes slide up and down the streets, daring anyone to come closer or ask questions as you clean against the crumbling brick facade and twist your head to look back at the two men huddled together about a hundred feet from where you are. You can’t hear what they’re saying but Joel looks even more pissed off than normal, even for Joel.

“What?” Joel shakes his head in annoyance, knowing he’s being squeezed for cards. He doesn’t get charged that much for the entire hydro stash he gets from his seller. “No, no fucking battery is worth that much and you know it.” He growls, narrowing his eyes at the untrustworthy weasel in front of him.

Robert’s eyes slide nervously around and he gives a small shrug, uncomfortable being around Joel and preferring to deal with Tess. “What can I say? Times are hard. It’s getting harder to come by these things.” His greedy eyes shift over to where you are looking out at the street. “Although….I’m sure we could work something out. I could cut the price in half if you, say, let me have your little pet there for the night.” He chuckles, referring to Tess’s mocking nickname for you. ‘Joel’s little puppy dog.’

Joel stares at the other man for a few seconds, just processing what he said, until it finally sinks in. “What the fuck did you just ask for?” He growls, low and quiet so you don’t hear.

“You heard me, Miller. A night with your little lapdog over there. She’s gotta be good at sucking cock because you keep her around. Got a fucking harem started with her and Tess. Do you have one sit on your face and the other ride your cock?” Robert guesses, crossing his arms with a cocky smirk, “or do they take turns sucking your dick? Mmm if you guarantee me a blowjob, I’ll even throw in some extras.”

You tense slightly, shifting forward from your place leaning against the way. Eyes watching the way that Joel’s fist curls tight for a moment. Wishing that you could hear what the fuck they are saying, but Joel told you to stay here, so that’s what you’re doing. “Joel?” You call out, getting his attention as he turns his head towards you. You’re wondering if you need to come over, knowing you will throw yourself into a fight for him if needed.

He shakes his head, holding his hand up towards you to stop you. He considers the guys offer, he can’t deny it. It would get him a hell of a lot closer to where he needs to be without having to do several burns for the cards. “No. She’s not available.” He finally says, not wanting to force you into something like that. He might be an evil bastard but he’s not a monster. “She’s not an option.” He decides, “you get more ration cards when we meet for me to collect it.”

“Come on man.” Robert shakes his head and his eyes slide past Joel to leer at you. “It’s just a fucking blowjob. I’ll tell you what?” He huffs, smirking and looking back at Joel. “Let me fuck her, both holes, have her suck my cock and I’ll give you the battery for free. Hell of a deal, right? I’ll even let you watch if you want to.”

Joel can’t help but reach up to squeeze the asshole’s throat. His anger makes him growl as he chokes the prick who dared to violate you like that. “You get the ration cards when I collect it or I can kill you now and get the battery for free? Hell of a deal, right? I’ll even let her watch me kill you.” Joel sasses, tilting his head as he watches his eyes practically bulge.

“Shit!” You leap forward but Joel just turns his head.

“Stay there!” He orders harshly, making you stop in your tracks. Watching as Joel leans in and whispers something else to the disgusting little rat he was having to buy from to get the battery he needed.

“No, no, it-it’s good!” You hear Robert choke out, gasping and sputtering when Joel lets him go. Clutching at his throat and coughing as Joel turns around and starts striding back toward you.

“Let’s go.” He demands, his scowl even deeper than normal as you scramble to catch up with his long legged strides. You weren’t short but he’s speed walking.

“What the fuck just happened?” You demand, wanting to know what the fuck is going on.

“Don’t worry about it.” Joel growls, body still vibrating with anger. He hates that you were a bargaining chip in this new world. Twenty years ago, it would’ve been illegal but anything goes in this new era, even the things the QZ deems illegal are turned a blind eye to.

“Did you get the car battery?” You ask and Joel doesn’t look at you, knowing he’s barely holding on to the thread of decency he has when it comes to you.

“No.” He says without further explanation, “he’s got to locate it.”

“Okay.” You think there is more to it, but he obviously doesn’t want to talk about it. You just walk along beside him, watching some of the people on the street part, giving Joel a wide berth. “So what do we do now?” You ask, unsure if he had other things to take care of.

“We keep low. You seen Tess? I ain’t seen her for a couple of days. Startin’ to get worried.” He frowns, guiding you down the alleyway that takes you back to his building. “I haven’t seen her.”

You mimic his frown, both wondering where Tess is and hating that he’s so worried about her. It’s always been the two of them. You know they fuck, you know sometimes Tess will sneak into his bed, and you hate it, but you don’t hate Tess. She is capable of a lot in this world and you know she keeps Joel grounded, something you seem unable to do.

“Let’s head to mine and then we will try to track her down.” Joel says, unaware that Tess is already waiting in his room, her face beaten up and sore.

You sigh softly, knowing that you will do whatever he wants. It’s dumb, but Joel had saved you when you arrived in the QZ, scared off some less than honorable people and you have been drawn to him ever since. It’s hard being in love with a man who doesn’t love you, doesn’t even look at you like a woman, but you are loyal to him. He claims he’s not a good man, and that’s true at times, but he’s good to you. “We’ll find her. I’m sure she’ll be in your arms tonight.” You mutter, hating how your stomach twists in jealousy.

Joel pretends to not hear you, knowing you and Tess have some tension going on between you but he ignores it. This life is rough enough without needing to fucking deal with women drama. He gets what he needs when he wants and that’s all that matters to him. He rolls his eyes and strides a little faster to get to his room.

When he opens the door, Tess is sitting there with her face bruised and swollen and he’s ready to fucking kill whoever did that to her.

“Jesus.” You huff, eyes wide at her injuries. It’s on the tip of your tongue to make a snarky comment, but instead you watch Joel fuss over her and clean up the wounds with the bottle of alcohol sitting next to the sink. It would be touching if it didn’t break your heart. “What the fuck happened to you?” You ask finally as he’s dabbing at the corner of her mouth. You flop down on his sofa and glare at your feet.

Joel gently grips her chin as he cleans her up, his eyes burning into hers and he doesn’t hear your question, too busy making sure Tess is okay. Neither of them see the crestfallen look on your face until your scowl covers it. Tess sighs, gently pushing Joel’s hand away as she explains that she was held hostage by a couple of Robert’s goons. Joel hisses in annoyance, knowing he should’ve killed that asshole when he had the chance.

You hate how neither one of them includes you, feeling like an extra wheel. Dragging your feet off the coffee table you slap your hands on your thighs and stand. “Since she’s home, I guess I better do the same.” You want Joel to tell you to stay, but you know he won’t. Wondering why you put yourself through this torture when he only had eyes for Tess.

Joel wants to ask you to stay but he needs to talk to Tess about what happened. He needs to form a plan and you distract him. “See you later.” He tells you, not even looking your way and Tess offers you a slight smirk as she bids you goodbye. Joel tuts when you stomp out, slamming the door behind you. “Tess…” He murmurs, shaking his head.

“What? She’s like a damn puppy dog hanging around you all the time.”

Joel snorts, “what does that make you?”

Tess frowns for a moment before she leans forward. “You know what I am to you.” She challenges him, holding his gaze until he turns away. You have fucked everything up, everything was fine until you showed up and things changed. “Joel-“ She pauses, deciding against asking a question she doesn’t want to know the answer to, or at least have it confirmed. Instead she decides to change tactics. “We need to go find Robert and our battery.”

Joel nods, “we do. I’ll go find her and then we can get ahead. Get your shit together.” He orders, standing up and making his way out of the door to track you down. He needs you for backup and also, he is secretly amused at the way Tess frowns whenever you are mentioned. Tess is…Tess is a comfort to him, the woman who has seen him at his worst and still wants him.

You are innocent really, still able to fight but you haven’t seen that side of him. He doesn’t want you to. He wants you to think of him as the closest version to the person he used to be. He misses that person sometimes, grieves him almost as much as he grieves Sarah. The small things he’d bitch about, like money or working late, are trivial compared to the issues he faces today.

When he finds you, you are sulking in your room, “come on. I need you to help me and Tess track down Robert and his goons.”

Staring at him incredulously, you huff after a moment, bending down to pick up your boots. “You’ve got some fucking nerve, Miller.” You grumble, feeling like you are being taken advantage of right now. Joel doesn’t comment, just sends you a satisfied look as you put your boots on and turns towards the door.

“Get your pack, we might need it.” He tells you before he walks out of your rooms like he owns the damn things. Your fault for letting him in, your fault for being so fucking in love with him that you let him walk all over you.

“This is the last goddamn time.” You promise yourself, muttering angrily as you get ready.

Joel doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrows as he listens outside. Both you and he know that’s not true. When you’re ready, he guides you down the alleyways to meet up with Tess. “Right. Let’s go get this fucker. I’m sick of his bullshit.” Joel huffs, making his way through the alleys to find the place Tess detailed when she told him where she was held.

“Awwww, you decided to come along, I’m so touched.” Tess coos mockingly when you reach her, making you grit your teeth and want to punch her in her good eye.

“Well, someone has to clean up your mess.” You huff back.

“Enough.” Joel growls, shaking his head at you before he turns to Tess with a pointed look. They did that a fucking lot, silently communicate like you weren’t fucking there.

Tess nods and Joel leads the way, entering the building with gun in hand and he creeps down the hall, using hand signals to gesture for you to walk or stop. He knows you and Tess have some fucking women issues between you but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t have time for that trivial shit.

It’s not the time to be snarky. Instead of dwelling on the issues, you focus on the task at hand. All you care about is keeping Joel safe. Tess by extension just because you know that he would be upset if something happened to her. She was his woman, not you. Your own gun in your hand, you flank his left side as you follow, eyes peeled for any danger.

Joel is naturally anxious, keeping his eyes open and ears clear for any noises. When he spots the dead bodies of Robert and his goons, he doesn’t give a fuck. He wants to know who did that to them. When the door to his right suddenly opens, he doesn’t think. He just acts. Shoving the girl against the wall so she drops the knife and placing his foot on it, gun aimed at her. When Marlene appears, Joel narrows his eyes, listening as she begs him not to shoot.

Your fingers tense around your own weapon, aimed at the two fireflies in front of you. “What’s who he sold our battery to? The Che Guevara of Boston?” You roll your eyes at her humor but it’s true. Listening to her tell Joel that they need to take this girl to the state house to meet her group. “Bring your puppy with you too.” You hiss at that, pissed off that Tess’s fucking nickname for you has caught on. “I tried to recruit her, but she’s too loyal to you Joel.”

Joel conceals the way his heart flutters at the news that you wanted to stay loyal to him. His face remains impassive and the girl tries to get her knife back while Marlene points out that she is bleeding and he needs to hurry up and decide. “Fine.” He grunts after Tess states her case.

Huffing, you shake your head. “You two have fun with that.” You know it’s a bad idea. This is bullshit and there are other places to get a battery.

“You’re going with us.” Joel tells you sternly and you know that you will, if for anything but to watch his back.

“We don’t need her. Joel. She’ll just be a liability.” Tess barely spares you a glance and that pisses you off more.

“I’m going.” You hiss, glaring at her.

Joel doesn't need this catty bullshit, the girl is glaring at him and it's putting him on edge. "Fine. Get your shit kid, we are leaving." He orders the girl, Ellie, who goes to get her knife back with a scowl. When night falls, Joel guides the group through the old tunnel that he uses to smuggle things in and once you're outside the QZ, Ellie's eyes widen.

"Holy shit." She gasps and a truck drives by.

"Get down!" Joel hisses, forcing you to duck alongside Ellie.

“Jesus.” You hate being outside the QZ. Hate the risk and you know that it’s getting harder and harder every time. “We need to move. The fucking soldiers have been crawling around.” You murmur quietly, looking around and shivering slightly in the rain.

Just as you get ready to move, the QZ guard who buys from Joel approaches you, gun raised. Joel doesn’t even think, surging forward to start pummeling the guy to death. He’s feral and there’s nothing any of you can do except watch him. Ellie watches with a fascination while Tess stares impassively.

“Joel.” You know the man is capable of violence, you’ve seen it, but this was unhinged. He turns back to look at the girl and you, the expression on his face is fierce and you shake your head after Tess shows him the red scanner. She’s infected. You listen to the hurried explanations and you know you need to have this conversation somewhere else. “We need to go.” You tell him, picking up the knife that the kid had stuck in the bastard’s leg and handing it back to her. You don’t know about her claim that she’s immune, but she deserves to be able to protect herself out here. “Take the rifle.”

Ellie takes it and Joel is almost dazed as you walk through the debris and overgrowth to find shelter in the city. Once you’ve found where you usually stop, Joel slumps down in the chair, flexing his knuckles and hissing. Ellie looks exhausted and you tell her to get some sleep, you’re stopping here for the night. “She’s infected.” Joel grunts when she’s fast asleep, bringing yours and Tess’s eyes over to him.

“Her wound looked healed.” Of course it had been dark as shit, but bites from the infected never looked better. It’s always inflamed as the fungal infection spreads through the body, taking over. You glance at his knuckles, wishing that you had ice to put on it. “You should wrap it up.” You tell him.

Joel ignores you, just imagining what could’ve happened out there if that asshole had blabbed. You’d all be dead. Hung for treason or some bullshit like that. “I’m fine.” He finally answers and Tess looks over at him, “she’s right.” That Joel definitely ignores. He grunts, standing up, “I’ll take first watch. You two get some sleep. I’ll watch the girl.” He says, grabbing his rifle and ignoring the pain in his knuckles when he grips the handle.

You sigh, knowing it won’t make a damn bit of difference, but you find yourself a corner away from the door so you have time to react and lay your pack down. Using it as a pillow as you turn your back to Joel and Tess. You don’t want to see whatever else they do or talk about tonight, tired of being the third wheel and tired of feeling like you should just leave.

Joel keeps watch most of the night until Tess tells him to get half an hour. “Lazy bitch couldn’t even get up for a watch.” She scoffs at your sleeping form.

Joel shakes his head at her, “she didn’t sleep the night before. Trying to help me out by keeping an ear out for the radio. Just - let it, okay?” Joel asks and Tess snorts, nodding her head. He sits down, closing his eyes but he never truly relaxes, just rests until the sun starts to rise.

“What do we do with the girl?” Tess asks when he stands up, walking over to her.

“Kill her.” Joel says, knowing that Marlene wouldn’t find out. He could lie and say she got infected for real this time. It’s not far from the truth. “We don’t know if she’s gonna turn.” He murmurs, keeping his eyes on the curled up ball in the middle of the room.

Grunting, you wake up with a jolt, used to the nightmares that plague your sleep. Everyone in the fucking horror reality has them, or they’ve never lived outside the QZ they were born in. Flipping over, you notice that Joel and Tess are already awake, both of them watching the girl. “Shoulda woke me.” You grumble, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes before you shuffle over towards Joel.

“You needed the sleep.” Joel murmurs, ignoring the scoff from Tess. “We should kill her.” Joel says with finality just as the girl wakes up, glancing around to see you sitting up and Joel sitting there with his rifle aimed towards her, anxious and tense as hell. “You make one wrong move and I’ll kill ya.” He promises, making Ellie scoff and pull her sleeve up.

“I’m fine. No different than last night.”

You shift slightly, looking from Joel to Ellie. “Why didn’t she kill you?” You demand, asking about Marlene. Ellie explains about the daily testing and holds out her arm to show that it is perfectly steady. No tremor, which is normally the first sign of infection besides a bite. “Jesus.” You shake your head, unsure of what all of these means and look back towards Joel. It’s him she needs to convince. Or Tess rather because she can sway Joel’s opinion.

Joel considers not killing Ellie when Tess points out that it hasn’t spread. “Fine. Better get something to eat before we head out.” Joel says, sitting down, and he flexed his knuckles.

“Broken?” Tess asks and he shrugs, “hairline. It will heal fast.”

You frown at that but still get your jerky out of your pack.

Ellie, meanwhile, pulls out a delicious looking sandwich and your eyes widen. “Is that chicken?” Tess asks and Ellie explains how Marlene got it from smugglers. Joel snorts, chewing on his jerky and trying to ignore the pain in his hand.

You hate that he is hurting, knowing that he can’t take anything that would help because it would make him slower to react. Instead of offering to take the gun, you open your pack and offer him the precious bottle of aspirin you have. It took a month of ration cards to get it, and you normally used it when your cramps would get too bad. “Here.” You offer quietly, “to help with the swelling.”

Joel takes the pill, knowing it’s aspirin and trusting you. He swallows it dry and makes the decision to head out. “Let’s go. We need to take advantage of the daylight.” He says, standing up to grab his pack and the rifle. Ellie scrambles to pack up her pack again and soon enough, you are heading outside with Tess keeping close to Joel.

“Do we want to take the long way or the short way?” Joel asks and it’s not your opinion he’s actually asking for. Tess snorts.

“You mean the long way or sure to die way.” She corrects sarcastically, making Ellie’s eyes widen dramatically and you roll your own. You’ve been the short way and it’s fine as long as you pay attention.

“I vote for the long way given the small amount of information available.” Ellie huffs, making you smirk.

“The long way, fast.” You decide. “Sooner we get her to the state house, the sooner you have the truck you need to get to Tommy.” That’s what all this is about after all, getting to his brother.

Joel nods, agreeing with you. You, Tess, and the girl trail behind him. Joel hears Tess telling the kid about Boston and the wreck it is now, but he isn't really listening, too busy scanning the area for any threats: human or infected.

He walks into the hotel and Ellie is amazed. "Wow. Did you guys ever stay somewhere like this?" She asks and Joel snorts while Tess says, "it was a bit out of our price range." You can't help but snort when Joel sasses the kid by hopping down onto the last step.

"Come on." You urge her forward and she rambles on about the hotel. When she rings the bell, Joel rolls his eyes and you shrug, offering him a look of amusement.

Halfway through the lobby when Ellie screams, you turn around and rush back through the water, unsure if it’s a clicker. Relieved when Joel isn’t shouting and shooting, you find the decayed bones of an unfortunate bastard floating. He must have moved and scared the girl. You hum, watching as Joel offers her his hand, something that he wouldn’t have done if he didn’t somewhat believe her story about not being infected, so it bodes well for her. “Come on kid,” you offer, giving her a small smile. “Let’s go up to the rooms. We’ve got a hell of a climb.”

Once you climb the ridiculous amount of stairs, Joel curses when he finds the exit has caved in. “Fuck.” He grunts.

“I can fit through. Let me try and get through.” Tess says and Joel shakes his head, “we can go the short way.”

Tess huffs, “we don’t have time. I’ll be fine.” She promises and starts to climb through the debris. You hover near Ellie, trying to ignore the way your heart pangs at their secret look, only between them. It makes you feel like you’re a thousand miles away from them. Ellie slumps down on the floor and Joel follows suit, looking over at you while Ellie starts to ask him questions.

You fiddle with your gun, trying not to feel like you are stuck in the middle of a Q&A that you don’t want to be at. Snickering to yourself when Ellie sasses back at Joel that she knows where Detroit is. Only to be surprised moments later when Joel actually knows where you are from. You had only told him once and assumed that he had forgotten or didn’t care enough. “So you and her are….” Joel’s entire body tenses.

“Pass.” Of course he wouldn’t define their relationship, he doesn’t ever acknowledge things Tess says in front of you, but he doesn’t deny them either.

Ellie huffs and turns her inquisitive eyes towards you. “So that means you and her are……” She trails off, trying to get either one of you to fill in the gaps.

Joel grunts, “pass.” He doesn’t want to talk about you or Tess with Ellie.

“Are you- is it like a throuple situation?” She guesses and Joel snorts, “nope.”

You and Tess would kill each other before you fuck each other. “Absolutely not.” You wrinkle your nose at being with Tess. God, she gets under your skin but she is important to Joel.

“Rightttt.” Ellie drawls just as there’s a thumping on the door. Joel stands up, gun in hand, anxious until Tess shouts her announcement that she’s back. Joel sighs slightly, relieved to see Tess, and he gestures for you and Ellie to get your shit.

Your stomach knots, knowing that the hardest part is coming up but there is something calming about the view from the terrace. Looking out over the ruins of the city that you had wished to have visited before all of the world went to shit. Tess pulls back the heavy plastic curtain so Ellie can get her first look and you walk up to the ledge.

Ellie has to step up on the little ledge and she looks down at the courtyard below. “There’s so many of them.” Ellie exhales, looking at that view. You shift to stand next to her, Joel on the other side. Tess starts to talk, explaining the way the fungus spreads. “They’re connected.” Tess hums. “More than you know.” Joel looks over at you and meets your eyes for a second.

You wish that he cared about you, but he doesn’t. You tear your eyes away from his and listen to Tess tell Ellis about how the tendrils spread underground, alerting other infected to your location. “You’re not immune from being ripped apart.” Tess cautions her. “You understand?” For a moment, the woman you hold such a grudge against seems almost motherly and you wish that she could talk to you with half the kindness, although you know you’ve not been exactly nice to her. Your feelings for Joel getting in the way of that.

“So we’re not going that way.” Ellie huffs and you shake your head, knowing what’s coming. “Short way?” She asks, looking between the three of you and you look to Joel for his opinion.

“Museum.” He decides, making you roll your shoulders in anticipation of the problems ahead.

You are anxious, preparing yourself to enter the museum and Joel glances at you, "be careful." He tells you softly, ignoring the glance from Tess. He opens the door, pleased after discovering the fungal roots are dry. He enters the Bostonian Museum, keeping his gun raised and ready.

Blowing out a soft breath, you grip your gun in your hand tightly and keep your head on a swivel as you watch your steps. The museum is dark and all you have for light is the flashlights, the kid breathing heavily at your back and you swear you hear her huff under her breath because Joel wouldn’t let her have a gun. She looks around, taking in the scene as the old building creaks and groans around you. “Yeah, cooked.” Joel says and Tess grunts.

“Finally some fucking luck.” Ellie steps forward, almost carelessly at their conversation. “I guess we should have gone this way in the first place.” Joel hums, not watching as Ellie turns a corner.

“Oh shit!” You rush over and shine another light on the body she discovered, groaning to yourself when you see that the person has been ripped up. Knowing what causes that. “What the fuck did that?” She demands, making you shush her quickly. You look over at Tess and Joel, the other woman looking nervous.

“Maybe.” Tess whispers. “Maybe he was attacked outside. Crawled through the door, the door was open. It could have been him.” She insists, making you roll your eyes and scoff quietly. She knows that’s not what happened.

“I don’t hear anything.” She insists. “What would you hear?” Ellie demands, her voice at a normal volume and all three of you turn towards her to quiet her down.

Joel holds his hand up, telling Ellie to quieten down. “What would you hear?” She repeats in a whisper, “you saying an infected did that?” Tess shushes her and you bite your lip. “-because I’ve been attacked by one and it wasn’t like that.” Ellie looks back at the body.

“Okay from this point forward we are silent. Not quiet, silent.”

Ellie shakes her head “what-”

Joel cuts her off, “no questions. Just do it.” Joel is anxious, always tense when he’s in closed spaces, and he slowly makes his way up the stairs. It’s difficult to move so slow but he is careful when he steps on the dried fungus. He manages to make it up the stairs and onto the second floor. He opens the door, walking in with his gun ready. The ceiling collapses and Tess shoves Ellie forward, pushing her into you and the three of you fall onto the floor. Joel helps Ellie up and that’s when you hear it. A clicker.

Shit. Your gun comes up and you immediately move in front of Ellie, flanking Joel to his left and Tess to his right. You’re trapped in a room with a fucking clicker. You don’t dare to breathe, barely creeping forward since they rely on hearing, totally blind with the large, hard fungal growth covering their heads. You hear her breathing start to pick up and you turn to find her wide as you realize there is more than one. All of you crouch down behind a display and Joel motions to Ellie that they rely on hearing. You can see the terror on her face, making the way your heart is pounding in your chest. Joel puts his finger to his lips again as they continue to make horrible screeches and clicks as they search for the source of the sounds. The clicker comes around the display and the little girl sees it for the first time, inhaling sharply.

Shit. The clicker turns and screeches before Joel brings his gun up to shoot it.

It’s terrifying, fighting for your life, and you are scared that Joel is gonna get bitten. You scramble to shoot the clicker but eventually you run out of bullets. Joel curses, “fucking go.” He hisses, “I’ll distract it.” You rush to hide around a corner to reload your gun. The girl and Tess are across the room and your hands shake as you struggle to reload your weapon. “

Fuck.” You hiss and Joel comes to stand beside you, doing the same thing. His eyes are full of fear and you stare back at him until you hear the clicks.

Your eyes close for a brief second, well aware that this could be it for you. You hate it. The fact that you could die in this fucking museum and never find Tommy. Never tell Joel how you feel. The floorboards creak and you hear the clicks right next to you. Another sound draws its attention and you turn to watch it, finding Ellie cowering behind a display and both you and Joel creep over to her. Making your way silently until Joel steps on a piece of broken glass. You cry out and start shooting as the clicker flies over the display and knocks all three of you to the ground, trying to infect you as you fight it off.

Joel curses, scrambling to keep the clicker away from you and Ellie and himself. It’s a struggle but eventually he manages to push it aside and put a bullet in its neck and eventually it’s face. Just as that one falls, the other rushes forward and Tess swings an axe into its head. Joel scrambles to grab his rifle, shooting the bastard in the head to kill it. “You alright?” Joel asks Tess as she stands.

“Twisted ankle.”

He turns to you, eyes wide and asks you the same question. “I’m fine.” You answer and Tess asks Ellie who exhales shakily, “well I didn’t shit my pants.”

You can’t help but laugh at her response, knowing you felt the same way the first time you dealt with clickers. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Turning back towards the kid, your eyes widen when you see that she’s injured again. “Ah…I mean if it was going to happen to one of us.”

You catch the way that Tess tenses up, making you frown slightly but she’s quickly redirecting the conversation. “Hey, let’s get out of here.”

Making your way onto the roof, it’s obvious that Tess needs medical attention. Joel hands Ellie a rag for her arm and turns his attention to Tess. Leaving you to walk over to the other girl and help her while he concentrates on wrapping her ankle. “Come here. I’ll help you.” It will be a good distraction, tending to her wound rather than watching Joel fret over a twisted ankle. Soon her arm is wrapped and she’s walking towards the edge and the scaffolding that connects the two buildings. “Over there?” She asks and Joel barely glances at her. “Yeah, I know it looks scary.” Joel starts but Ellie interrupts him. “That was scary, this is wood.” She huffs as she brazenly walks across the beam and makes you smirk at the other two adults.

"Just wait there. Give us a minute." Joel says and you step to follow Ellie across the wood, not wanting to see the tenderness Joel gifts Tess with. "Be careful." Joel warns you while opening his backpack. You scoff, walking across the wood as brazenly as Ellie. Joel shakes his head, while he tapes Tess's ankle.

"Told you, she's trouble." Her eyes focus on Joel but he doesn't notice, set on the job at hand. "There's probably more ahead."

Tess nods, "so we'll deal with it then...I got it. I got it." She tells Joel when he wraps around her ankle again.

Joel leans back to look at Tess until his gaze turns to the building across from them. "What about the kid?" He asks, "maybe the first bite didn't take but what about the second?"

Tess huffs, turning towards him, "why don't you just take the good news? Can you do that?" She asks Joel, "can you just for once think that we might actually win?" Tess asks and shakes her head, "just go and watch her and your fucking puppy."

Joel sighs, grabbing his backpack and rifle before making his way across the wood. “Wow.” Ellie exhales, looking at that view. You shift to stand next to her, Joel on the other side.

“Is that everything you hoped for?” Joel asks Ellie as you stare across what used to be a major city now turned to a deserted urban jungle.

“Jury’s still out.” Ellie replies back, “but man…you can’t deny that view.” You hum in agreement and Joel looks at Ellie before his eyes meet yours for a second.

“Tess gonna live?” You ask, breaking the moment up but you hate how his eyes seem to suck you in. It’s not going to happen for you and you need to accept that. You’ve already decided that when Joel and Tess get their vehicle from the Fireflies, you are going to stay. You’ll go with them or turn around and find a way back to the QZ. You can’t do this anymore. It’s too hard and you know that it will never be you that he picks. Stupid of you to fall for a man who was obviously involved with someone whether or not he admitted it. Joel rolls his eyes, not answering you and you swallow harshly. “When we get to the state house-” You start, wanting to tell him your plan, but Tess comes hobbling up.

“Come on, let's get there before it’s dark” She demands, impatient to get moving again as she swings herself onto the ladder.

Ellie goes next and then you look at Joel who nods at you. You nod and make your way down the ladder, firm in your decision. Joel glances at his watch, thinking about Sarah, and forces himself to keep going. As you walk towards the state building, Joel glances down at Ellie’s arm. Cautious and wondering if she’s gonna turn at any second. When you arrive, there’s no one there and you duck behind a car to see if anyone shows. “Where the fuck are they?” Tess asks and Joel shakes his head, looking back at Tess before his eyes meet yours.

He stands, rifle in his grip, and he makes his way over to the truck. Cautious and alert, he opens the passenger door and turns back to you, Tess and Ellie. “Stay back.” He orders, making his way around the truck to find the back is empty.

“Joel, what the fuck is going on?” You, Tess and Ellie come towards the truck and Joel shakes his head.

“I don’t know.”

You look around, a bad feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. “They went inside.” Ellie tells you, pointing to the blood on the ground and you sigh, knowing that is never a good sign.

Tess seems to take this as a personal attack and grabs Ellie’s hand as she marches towards the steps. “Tess.” Joel huffs, making you roll your eyes but you follow are the pair. Not for Tess’s sake, but for the girls. You know Joel will be right behind you. You walk into the state house, finding all of the crew dead on the floor in the middle of a vegetation patch.

“Holy shit.” Ellie hisses, and you have to agree. This is bad.

“Fuck.” You hiss under your breath, checking for signs of FEDRA or if it was infected that got them.

Tess searches the bodies, “I mean there’s gotta be a fucking radio or something, right?” She says, searching the crate closest to her.

“Who killed them? FEDRA?” Ellie asks and you shrug, glancing back at Joel who pulls the body at his feet back onto its back.

“No. One of them got bit. The healthy ones fought the sick ones. Everyone lost. Tess? What’re you doin’?” He asks, turning back towards her as she continues searching.

Tess steps towards the girl and you edge your way in front of her to protect her. “Where did Marlene say that she was taking you? Ellie!”

The girl steps forward, “uh. I don’t know. Just west.”

Tess turns away, “just west. Fuck. Okay. Well, I mean one of them’s gotta have a map on them, right?” She says more to herself. “Joel, can you help me?” She asks, nearly begging.

Joel shakes his head, “no! Tess, it’s over. We are going home.” He walks towards her, wanting to get everyone back to the QZ and safe.

Tess growls, “that’s not my fucking home.” Joel stares at her, eyes unreadable as Tess stands up. “I’m stayin’.” She declares, “I mean, our luck had to run out sooner or later.”

Joel’s face falls and your eyes widen just as Ellie says, “fuck. She’s infected.” Joel turns back to Tess, staring at her, almost begging her with his eyes for that to not be true.

“Show me.” Joel demands and you can hear the agony in the two words. He doesn’t want to believe it, doesn’t want it to be true. Your stomach drops, hating that she has been infected despite your differences. It didn’t mean you wanted her dead.

“Joel.” She takes a step towards him and instinctively, he jolts backwards, pulling away from her. You walk towards the kid and put your arm around her shoulder gently, wanting to comfort her. Tess pulls her jacket away so you can see the bite on her neck and you close your eyes. “Oops.” She jokes. “Right?’ She turns to Ellie. “Take your bandage off.” You help Ellie take the bandage off to reveal that her own wounds from the clickers haven’t gotten any worse. She’s not infected. Walking over, she takes the girl's arm. “Look, Joel.” She demands, holding it up for him to inspect. “This is real. Joel she’s fucking real.” She insists. “I need you to get her to Bill and Franks.”

“No,” Joel shakes his head.

“They’ll take her off your hands. They’ll handle it from here.”

“No, no, no, I can’t. They won’t take her. They’re not going to take her.” He frowns.

“They will ‘cause you’ll convince them.” Tess tells him. “Yes you will. I never ask you for anything. Not to feel the way I felt…” You frown in confusion, not understanding what the fuck she is talking about. Joel loves her.

“No.” Joel shakes his head but Tess interrupts him.

“Not to…shut the fuck up because I don’t have time.” Joel looks devastated and you clutch Ellie’s shoulder as you try not to react to this entire scene being played out in front of you.

“This is your chance. You get her there, you keep her alive, and you set everything right. I know you don’t feel the same way I do but you need to stop burying your feelings. Life is too damn short to keep lying to yourself.” Tess says, her eyes meeting yours before she looks back at Joel’s. “All the shit we did…” She looks over at you, “he was gonna offer you up to Robert. He was gonna trade sex with you for the battery we needed.”

Your jaw drops and Joel refuses to look at you, keeping his gaze on Tess’s. “Little puppy dog, always following him around. Thinkin’ you were the third wheel when it was always me.” Tess chuckles humorlessly and shakes her head. “Please say yes, Joel, please.” Tess begs and Joel’s gaze shifts over to you.

The way you’re looking at him is enough to make him say no. He wants to protect you, protect the girl. He can’t do that if he takes you both to Bill and Frank’s. “Please.” Tess begs again just as the body behind Ellie shifts to crawl.

“Oh fuck!” The teenager yells and ducks behind you and Joel when you move her out of the way. Joel doesn’t hesitate to take his gun out, killing the bastard, and his jaw is clenched when he sees the fungus curling around the dead digits. He looks towards the door and rushes past Tess to open it. Eyes panicked when he looks back after shutting the door.

“How many?” Tess asks.

“All of them. Maybe a minute.” Joel says, spinning around in a panic to face you but you refuse to meet his eye.

Tess gets to work, pushing over the barrels of gasoline, spilling it over the ornate tile floor. “What are you doing?” You ask and Tess answers with “making sure they don’t follow you.”

Joel is frozen, facing the reality that the woman who’s been his right hand for so long is not walking out of this building with him. He steps closer to her, grenades roll across the floor. “Joel.” Tess moves to stand in front of him. “Joel.” She repeats and he finally meets her gaze. “Save who you can save.” She orders, her eyes flicking over to you before she meets his dark stare.

He’s struggling. Part of him wants to drag Tess out of here but the other side of him wants to keep you safe. He’s torn and eventually, the side of the living wins. He stares at Tess, offering her a small nod, and he spins, grabbing Ellie’s hand and wrapping his arm around your waist. “Stop! We’re not leaving her. Get off of me you fucker! I’m not going with you!” Ellie shouts and you let Joel drag you out of the building. He’s frantic to get you away before the building explodes with Tess inside of it.

“Hurry up.” He growls, dragging you both until you’re far enough away. He ducks down as the glass explodes, shoving you on the floor, and he grabs his rifle to aim it in case any infected chase after you.

Ellie stands beside him, watching their bodies fall to the floor with the flames, and Joel eventually lowers the gun. “Joel…” You trail off and he shakes his head, turning to walk away. Ellie lingers for a moment until you step forward to follow him.

Your jaw rocks and you shake your head, unable to believe that he had refused to even talk to you after Tess dropped that bomb on you. At least she told you before she died, even though it was supposed to be one last barb through your heart. “I’m not going.” You decide, stopping short, only a few hundred feet from where you had watched the building explode. “This is your mission. For Tess.” You turn around and start walking back the way you just came, sure that the infected will be burned now given the size of the fire bomb and the smoke still billowing from the building.

Joel pauses, watching you for a moment until he strides forward to grab your wrist, pulling you back to stop you walking away. “You ain’t going anywhere. It’s too dangerous. Stop movin’.” He growls when you try to pull out of his grip. “I don’t understand. What - why you wanna go back?”

Instead of trying to pull out of his grip, you spin around, slapping him across his cheek. “You fucking bastard!” You hiss, yanking your wrist away from him as he loosens his grip in shock. “You were going to- going to fucking sell me to Robert for your fucking battery!” Hot tears spill down your cheeks and you don’t even bother wiping them away. “I knew you didn’t-“ you break off, “fuck you, Miller.”

Joel is shocked that you slapped him and he hisses, “Jesus Christ.” He curses Tess despite her soul not even leaving the damn earth yet. “I didn’t sell you. He wanted you and I said no. I fuckin’ told him no.” He clarifies, ignoring the wide eyed look from Ellie.

“Tell me you didn’t think about it.” You challenge him, chest heaving as you step closer and square up to him. “Tell me that you didn’t consider it.” Joel doesn’t answer you and your chin trembles when you see the guilt in his eyes. “I thought so.” You choke out. “I fucking loved you and you were going to whore me out to save money and get your goddamn battery.”

He shakes his head, “no baby. I didn’t - I didn’t do it though.” He chokes, knowing you hate him and he doesn’t know why that destroys him when he’s fought so hard to keep you at arms length. “You can’t love me, okay? I’m - I’m a fucking mess and I was fooling around with Tess until I realized that I -” He cuts himself off, knowing that it’s getting dangerous.

“Until you what? Couldn’t whore her out?” You spit, shaking your head at him. “I put up with the stupid fucking nickname. ‘Puppy dog’.” You sneer. “Guess that’s what I was, huh? A stupid little puppy dog that doesn’t fucking realize she’s not wanted. Following you around, helping you, trying to make you- fuck, I don’t know.” You lift your hands helplessly and slap them down against your thighs. “Make you love me, I guess. But that’ll never happen. I’m not Tess.” You close your eyes, and sigh. “Just- go to take Ellie where Tess wanted you to, go find your brother. I’ll- I’ll be fine. I’m not your problem.”

He knows he will lose you forever if he lets you go now and he’s lost so much in his life. The burden he carries every damn day with each life he loses around him. He can’t lose you too. He brushes over what you said to finish his own sentence. “I was fooling around with Tess until I realized that I was fuckin’ in love with you and Jesus fuckin’ Christ that terrifies me.” He confesses, chest heaving.

You frown, not believing him for a second. “Don’t lie to me, Joel.” You sob out angrily. “You at least owe me the fucking truth.”

Ellie steps forward. “Hey so, uh- it’s-“

You turn around and glare at her. “Not now!” You hiss, wanting to finish this so you can leave and find some place to hole up for the night before sneaking back into the QZ. “She was practically living in your apartment. She was there every damn night. Now you want to tell me you weren’t fucking her?”

“I stopped. We weren’t - we were plannin’ the smuggling. We weren’t doing shit other than figurin’ out how to get shit past the wall, past FEDRA. Jesus, sweetheart, I didn’t - I don’t want to put you in danger. I’ve been tryin’ to keep you safe. Tess knew how I feel. Shit, she was jealous and that’s why she called you my puppy dog. I should’ve stopped it but doing that wouldn’t meant acknowledging these fuckin’ feelings that I’ve been tryin’ to squash down. Love doesn’t succeed in this goddamn hellhole. Love is a weakness and I - shit - you make me weaker than a paper straw under a one ton weight.”

You don’t know if you believe him. The sting of finding out that he had even thought about giving you to Robert, even for a moment, stings. But you know it would be safer for Ellie if there was more than one capable adult looking out for her ass. There’s enough of you that immediately wants to forgive Joel that you stare into his dark eyes for a moment before you nod. “Fine.” You whisper. “I’ll….go with you on this fucking haul.”

Joel is relieved that you are coming along. He knows this conversation isn’t over but you need to get moving. Get to some kind of shelter before it gets dark. “Come on baby. We can talk later. Let’s get safe first.” He says, grabbing his rifle. Ellie raises her eyebrows at him as he walks past her.

“Never knew you were so emotional, Joel.” She scoffs, remembering the books that would be passed around in secret at the school about romance and how the guy would kiss the girl after declaring he loved her.

Instead of following directly behind Joel, you put the girl between you and him. Bringing up the rear for safety as well as to give you some space to allow for thinking about what the fuck you are going to do. You know Joel isn’t a ‘good man’ in the pre-end of the world morality. Maybe he was then, but this life, this world changed everyone - you included. You don’t even know as much as Tess might have, but you know that he had saved you when he could have killed you. That he didn’t give you to Robert. Biting your lip, you wonder if that’s why he was choking the bastard the day before yesterday. Not that it mattered, the fucker was dead. Sighing softly, you shift your gaze around the fading light to look for somewhere to safely pass the night.

Joel guides you through the forest that is invading Boston, nature taking back what is rightfully hers. Joel sighs, holding his rifle, until he comes around a sheltered area. It’s not comfortable but it’s safe and that’s all that matters. “We will set up here.” He declares, watching the tree line for any disturbances and when he doesn’t find any, he shrugs his pack off.

You don’t speak, just shrug off your own pack and set it down as you start to get the area ready for the night. While the infected weren’t in this area, wild animals were. A fire would be necessary to keep them from getting too close and you know that the sun will be setting soon. You start to drag trash and debris closer, scrapping out an area to start the fire and pile things high. Joel can’t move much, not with his hand even though he would protest over it.

Joel watches you start the fire and Ellie sits down on the ground, opening her pack to pull her sandwich out. She’s starving and she doesn’t want to wait to eat. When you’ve started the fire, Joel pulls out his food and water, holding it out towards you. “You gotta eat, sweetheart.” He says, watching you sit down across from him. He will mourn Tess later when he takes watch. He doesn’t want to show his emotions now when you’ve shattered him with your onslaught.

Shaking your head, you don’t take his offerings. “You need it more than me.” You tell him as you reach for your own pack. “I have my own but I just-” You bite your lip. “I’m going to sleep first. You take first watch and wake me in a few hours.” You don’t let him argue, setting your pack up as a pillow and turning your back on him and the girl, curling in on yourself and forcing yourself to close your eyes.

He doesn’t argue, knowing you need to rest and he needs time to think. Ellie looks at him as he starts to chew on the jerky and he ignores her raised eyebrows. “Don’t say a word, kid.” He orders, shaking his head after he swallows the chewy bark.

Ellie rolls her eyes, “whatever dude. You can’t see what’s right in front of you. What Tess saw.” She says and continues eating. Joel grimaces, thinking of Tess. He tried to hide how he felt about you from her, thinking he had been successful but he wasn’t.

You don’t know how long you’ve been asleep, but your jerk awake with a gasp. Your hand reaches for the gun that is right next to you and you flip over to try to figure out what woke you. The fire is still burning and the kid is curled but about five feet from you, wedged between the concrete wall and the fire. Joel is still awake, his eyes watching as you sit up. “Shit.” You huff, putting the gun down and blinking rapidly. “Get some sleep, I’ll take over.” You promise, groaning quietly as you move to your feet to stretch.

Joel shakes his head, “no. I wanna talk. Come here.” He pats the space beside him, wanting you to come and sit down.

You hesitate but eventually sit down beside him. “What is it Joel?” You murmur, not wanting to rehash this bullshit.

“Shut up.” He orders and you open your mouth. “Shut the fuck up.” He hisses, pissed off with you. “I’m not gonna make this damn speech again, okay? I don’t do this shit. Not since before outbreak day. I - I love you. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t - I can’t lose someone else and I - I haven’t felt this way in so damn long and I tried to ignore it but I love you. I’m in love with you darlin’ and that fuckin’ terrifies me.”

His speech startles you, not expecting to hear something like that. Not from him. You close your eyes and absorb the words that you have wanted to hear for so long, believing them to be nothing more than a wistful dream. “I’m sorry.” You offer. “For that, I guess. For Tess.” You have to look away from his dark gaze, unable to look at him for too long without wanting to kiss him. “I’m not sorry that I love you though.” You murmur, looking into the fire. “It’s- it hurt everyday but it was worth it.”

He turns to look at you, his brown eyes almost orange as they reflect the flames of the fire. He’s slow, giving you a chance to pull away but he leans in, cupping your cheek. His calloused thumb caresses the skin there and he leans in to kiss your lips. It’s soft, the opposite of him, but he wants this moment to be good, to be memorable in case you don’t make it past tomorrow. In this life, every day is a bonus.

Eyes slipping closed, you want to live in this moment. Joel’s lips on yours makes your entire body tingle. Reaching up and taking his hand while your other finds his shoulders. Moaning softly because you can’t believe this is happening and you never expect it to be so gentle.

Joel groans softly into the kiss, grabbing your ass to pull you into his lap. Straddling him and he glances over your shoulder to make sure the kid is still asleep. “Fuck.” Joel groans when you are pressed against him, his lips finding your jaw and he kisses until his lips press against yours again.

You whine again his lips when his hands squeeze your ass just like you’ve imagined more times than you ever want to admit. Wrapping your arms around his neck and shamelessly grinding down on the bulge in his jeans that you had always salivated over. “Joel.” You whisper, not wanting to wake the kid. “I-“ he shushes you, pressing his lips to yours again.

His hands slide under your shirt, wanting to feel more of you, and he groans when you grind down on him again, cock hardening in his jeans. He thinks you’re gorgeous, fucking gorgeous, and he’s jerked off thinking about you too many lonely nights after he stopped sleeping with Tess. “We gotta be quiet.” He orders, sliding his hands higher so he can undo the clasp of your bra. He doesn’t take it off, just pushes it up your chest so he can slide his hands around your torso to cup your tits, squeezing them in his rough hands.

There’s a voice in the back of your mind that wonders if this is because Tess is dead. If you’re merely replacing her for him. You push it down, ignore it. You don’t care when you are getting to touch him like you’ve always wanted to. Ducking your head down and kissing the bare patch on his jaw like you’ve always wanted to. Your fingers fumbling with his belt as you try to get him free from his pants. You can’t ride him like this, not without taking your pants off and that’s dangerous. Hell, this is too dangerous really. You’re distracted by him.

He knows this is dangerous, the girl could wake up, but he desperately wants to feel you. He works on your pants, unbuttoning them and he shoves his hand inside, cupping your cunt after sliding under your panties. He finds you wet but not dripping and his fingers rub your clit after sliding through your folds.

You swear you’re going to bite through your lip trying to keep quiet. Loving the thick fingers you’ve watched so many times slide though your folds and press against your clit. “Joel.” You pant, needing more from him. “I- you have to fuck me.” You gasp out. “Please. Just- just once.” You know that he might change his mind come morning. That he could put that wall back up but you will be happy if you just get one night. “Please, baby. I need you.”

He nods, knowing he needs that connection. Losing Tess, nearly losing you, it’s been a long ass day and he wants to connect to you. He whispers for you to stand up and he withdraws his fingers, making you whine softly. When you stand, he pulls your jeans and panties down to your ankles, dragging you back into his lap so you are straddling him, cunt bare to the cool night air. He reaches down to take his cock out, “can’t cum inside of you. Gonna need you to let me drag you off when I cum.” He whispers, knowing he won’t risk you like that.

You nod quickly, readily agreeing to whatever he wants. “I know- it’s- it’s okay.” You promise, reaching down and wrapping your hand around the thick head of his cock and moaning quietly at the smear of pre-cum building up on the tip so gorgeously. “I-“ instead of telling him that you love him again, you rock your hips forward and line him up so you can sink down on him with a moan of his name that is pressed to his shoulder as you take him.

Fuck, you’re so tight. Hot and wet around him and you mean so much to him. His heart thumps in his chest while his cock twitches when you bottom out. “Fuckkkk.” He hisses through his teeth, hands gripping your ass and he struggles to remain calm as he allows you a moment to adjust around him. “Gotta be quiet.” He whispers in your ear, kissing the skin beneath it.

“You- you might have to cover my mouth.” You admit breathlessly, whispering the words to him as you flash him a quick smile. “Always been loud in bed.” An irony in a world where you’ve had to be silent at so many times when you just wanted to scream. Your fingers sink into his hair and you tug on it slightly as you start to move, wanting to ride him and eager to feel this incredible cock filling you more.

Joel knows he will want more after this. He’s already addicted to you and the thought of ever giving this up, you up, has him on edge. He presses his lips to yours, silencing you with his tongue, and he groans softly when your walls grip him tight when you find the angle that works for you. His hands slide up and down your back, squeezing your ass and enjoying how damn good you feel around him.

You try to stifle your sounds but it’s hard when he feels like he’s in your fucking throat. Stretching you out and making you feel more relaxed than you have in years, while craving more. Your tongue tangles with his while your thighs start to push up and down, moving yourself on his length in a way that keeps you as close as possible. Needing to feel every inch of him as much as you can.

Joel is trying to hang on to his composure, resist the urge to roll you over and just slam into you, fuck you into the ground, but he can’t. The kid is there. He can’t do that now. So he lets you lead, just pulling back to watch you work yourself on his cock. When your mouth opens to moan again, he shoves two fingers in there, wanting you to keep quiet. “Can’t wake the kid, darlin’. You gotta keep quiet.” He reminds you, leaning in to rasp in your ear.

His hands are dirty, filthy. You should want to spit them out but you don’t. Not even caring at this point. The feeling of his cock shredding up into you every time your hips fall is too good to care. His voice rumbling in your ear makes your cunt clench around him, swearing you can cum from him talking.

There’s so much to say to you and yet he can’t. The risk is too much, to both waking up the kid, and to his own heart. He can’t bring himself to say anything but he does lean in to kiss you, replacing his fingers with his lips, and his hand finds your clit. Rubbing tight circles in it as he gets closer to his own orgasm.

You whimper, groaning as he keeps rubbing your clit. Trying to keep quiet but it’s so hard when he feels this good. Your arms tighten around him and you kiss him harshly, feeling your cunt bottom out and your entire body light up with pleasure as you start to cum for him.

“That’s it baby.” Joel practically exhales into your mouth as you clamp down on his cock, body shaking against his. He pulls you closer, thrusting up into you as best he can until he’s pushing you onto the ground beside him, barely managing to shift onto his knees to cum on the dirt and not ruin your clothing. He pants, chest heaving while his cock twitches in his hand. “Jesus Christ.” He exhales, letting go of his cock to tuck himself away and he shuffles over to where you are on the ground. “Sorry baby. Couldn’t - needed to pull out.”

“It’s fine.” You pant, understanding why he needed to pull out, but wishing he hadn’t. “You can’t risk it.” You’ve never told him anyway and in the moment isn’t a good time anyway. It’s not like it matters anyway. You shuffle quietly, trying to pull your clothes back on and put yourself to rights.

Joel watches you put your clothes back on and once you’re settled, he reaches for your hand, dragging you close to wrap his arms around you. He breathes you in, relieved that he didn’t lose you today. He lost Tess, which he will process and grieve in his own way, but right now, he’s just happy to have you. He loves you, he really does. He wishes he had told you sooner but this life is unpredictable at the best of times. You have a journey ahead with him to get to Bill and Frank’s and he will do everything he can to keep you safe. Whatever it takes…he won’t lose anyone else he loves.

****

Joel reluctantly turns over the responsibility of watch to you. He needs rest, you know he didn’t sleep last night and he’s had a fucking hell of a day. You all had, but him most of all. Whatever him and Tess had been towards the end, he had cared for her in his own way and he needed to grieve her. You keep the fire crackling, staring into the flames when you aren’t watching the inky blackness around your small space and listening for more than the rustles of wildlife. Your jerky and your water bottle your own companions through the rest of the night until the first rays of sun peak over the horizon and the sky begins to brighten.

When Joel wakes up, you and Ellie are talking, and he winces at the sunlight, trying to figure out how long he’s been asleep. “Why didn’t you wake me?” He grunts and you shake your head, “you needed to sleep.”

Ellie nods, “yeah man. You had a rough day yesterday.”

He sits up, running his fingers through his hair and he shifts to stand up. “We gotta get going. Get your shit together. I’m gonna take a piss.” He stumbles to the tree line, gun in hand and he checks his surroundings before he shoves the weapon in the back of his jeans and pulls his cock out to pee. When he returns, you’ve put the fire out and are ready to go. Joel grabs his pack and leads the way, rifle in hand.

You walk alongside Ellie for a bit, hanging back as you try to figure out how to tell Joel. You should, he deserves to know. “So, uh, did you work your shit out?” Ellie asks, making you look over at her. “Cause I don’t want it to be a tense trip.” She offers, making you snort.

“It’s going to be a tense trip regardless.” You remind her, the journey is no walk in the park for sure. “But we’ve talked. While you were asleep.”

Ellie snorts, “talked. Sure.” She doesn’t believe you just talked. She’s not dumb. She learned about all that in school and she knows that’s how most adults show how they feel. You fluster and look at Joel as he strides ahead, rifle gripped in his hand. He sighs and looks over his shoulder at you and Ellie.

You see Joel jerk his head towards you, motioning for you to come up beside him. Eager to get away from Ellie’s prying questions, you hustle forward and catch up to him. “Something up?” You ask, wondering if he wants to talk about the plan for getting Ellie to Bill and Frank’s.

Joel turns to look at you as you come alongside him, “everything okay with the kid?” He asks and you nod, “yeah she’s good.”

He sighs, “you think she’s gonna be okay with Bill and Frank?” You shrug, “who knows.” Joel glances behind him again to see Ellie looking around and he takes a chance to reach out and hold your hand.

Shocked, you look down at his large hand wrapped around yours, holding it tight and yet he’s not crushing it. Your heart thumps in your chest and it’s impossible to not fall more in love with him. “Joel- I need to tell you something.” You murmur softly, not wanting Ellie to hear.” You can feel him tense up but you squeeze his hand reassuringly. “It’s not- it’s nothing bad. Or, I guess it’s better to say, "I made peace with it a long time ago.” You take a deep breath. “You don’t have to worry about getting me pregnant.” You confess. “I can never have kids.”

Joel frowns, turning to look at you. "You can't - shit. Baby, I'm so sorry." He murmurs, knowing it must've been hard to process. "What - what did they say?" He is curious and wants to know why you can't have kids. He also wants to comfort you but all he can do is squeeze your hand. Even this is more intimacy than he is used to displaying.

“Premature ovarian failure.” You roll your eyes at the words that had been told you so many years ago. “Basically, I stop producing eggs.” You explain. “I found out about two years before the end of the world. So I guess it’s handy?” You try, your joke falling flat. “Not that I would want to have kids in a world like this. It’s not fair to them. Not fair to her.” You nod back towards Ellie. “I just- if we, you know, again….you don’t have to pull out if you don’t want to. If you do, I get it.”

Joel feels guilty that he is happy to hear he doesn't need to pull out but he's sad that you won't get to be a mom. You'd be good at it, even in this fucked up world. "I'm sorry you couldn't, you know, but, next time...I want you in a bed and I ain't gonna pull out." He murmurs so the kid can't hear.

You shiver slightly, happy to hear that there will be a next time if both of you can help it. You hum quietly and shoot him a small smirk. “Maybe we can find a hotel to spend the night in tonight.” You tease softly, not sure what awaits you on this journey but at least you’ll be there. By his side this time, instead of trailing along behind him like his little puppy.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #hbo the last of us spoilers #tlou hbo #hbo tlou #hbo the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction

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chuuyasheaven · 6 months

Text

"Outsmartin' failed"— Fyodor & Dazai

"You have been having the weirdest dreams lately. Two handsome men, which were probably not human, have been appearing in your dreams a lot. In those dreams, they always try to seduce you. Since this started to worry you, you tried to just stay awake, but they were standing in front of you the next second. Was this a hallucination or real?"

Tags: Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai Osamu / afab! Reader, threesome, rough sex?, incubus! Fyozai, overstimulation, does this count as monster fucking?, idfk what's going on, oral sex (bj's and pussy eating), fingering, teasing, praising, pet names?, might contain grammar errors, discontinued and short, rushed probably, etc.

Notes: I want 2 experience this so badly tho idrk, also, this is gonna be left on Cliffhanger since I'm VERY busy atm . .

You're not sure if you're hallucinating or if this is actually happening, but either, this seemed to be better than any other dream, so why did you try to avoid it again? Oh, right, two demons, you're not really sure, kept appearing in your dreams. Not gonna lie, but they were attractive, which helped with their seductive attitude. Since it was kinda odd to you, you tried to stay awake to see what happens, which was one of the best mistakes you made that night. Because, they were suddenly in front of you, and the next thing you know they had you on your fours. .

On your fours, one dick in your mouth and fingers in your cunt. The brunette, Dazai, was the one fingering you. The black haired, Fyodor, was the one you were sucking off. And they were anything but gentle. Fyodor was grabbing your hair, forcing himself to go deeper into your throat, Dazai was behind you fingering you good. You tried to concentrate, you really did, but this was way to much to handle. "Awe, look at you, already drooling are we?", Fyodor recalled, drool rolling down past your lips. Your back was arching when Dazai found that one spot, you moaned around Fyodor's cock, leaving vibrations. As Fyodor was getting closer, you were seconds away from cumming with the way Dazai was fingering. Fyodor trusted into your mouth a couple times before cumming in your mouth. "Be a good girl and swallow,", he told you, you listened to Fyodor and did as he told you to. When Fyodor pulled out, there was some cum rolling down your lips, he wiped it away. "We can't let this go to waste, dear.", Fyodor held his finger in front of you with a little of his cum on it. You stuck out your tongue to lick it clean, holding eye contact with him as you did.

"Good girl.", you let his finger out of your mouth when Dazai hit that spot again, perfectly this time. Dazai was getting more aggressive with it, before you came all on his fingers almost screaming. You think that everything? Wrong, think again. They switched, Fyodor was behind you now, while Dazai was in front of you. Your breath hitched when Fyodor's tongue made it's way inside your cunt. You let your head sink at the pleasure, this did feel better than Dazai's fingers. Dazai grabbed your chin with his one hand, his eyes looking at you seductively. "Keep your eyes on me, 'donna, I have another job for you.", Dazai held up the fingers the pleasured you with, suggesting for you to lick them clean like you did with Fyodor. You fluttered your eyes close as you stuck out your tongue again, licking off your own cum, while Dazai was smirking at you shamelessly. Looking up to him to look at him innocently made him hard, what made him even harder was your moans those were caused by his partner. When your done, Dazai crouched to be on your level.

"Feels good, doesn't it?", he asked while staring into your eyes waiting for a response. Nodding, Dazai looked at you as if he expected words. "Y–yeah.", your flushed face amusing him. Dazai neared your lips until he was inches away. "You're so cute, y'know?", Dazai was kissing you before you could do anything else. He was kissing you roughly, his tongue now joining in, you moaned into the kiss while Fyodor found the spot with his tongue. Dazai pulled you closer, full on making out with you now, you were getting close to your second climax. Separating from the kiss for air, you were drooling again. "What, do I kiss that good?", he stood up with a smirk. "Are you done?", Dazai asked the black haired male. "Almost, as it seems,", Fyodor stated while his words sent vibrations into your cunt, which resulted into your second orgasm. Fyodor was making his way back to Dazai, looking down onto you with Dazai.

"—Who do you want to go first, me or Fyodor?"

I'm really sorry abt this, guys

#Rei's Kinktober 2023 !! ❤️#dazai smut #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #osamu dazai smut #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs dazai #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs fyodor #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor smut #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor

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libbyfandom · 4 months

Text

Heartbeat

(((This one got kind of, I don't know how to describe it other than I made my own heart sink. Yikes.)))

Possible Triggers: To cover it, there's one explicit sentence about SA. And Mizu has a breakdown.

“My son told me he spotted that Onryō that was seen outside the village.” You hear an older man’s voice a couple tables away as he sits down.

A second one answers, “The guards said he had a woman with him.”

The first man speaks quieter, in a hardened voice. “Truly?”

“Yes. The poor thing was following so close to it. Do your u think she’s controlled by it?”

You take a sip of your tea slowly, staring out the window as the last of the sun’s rays pull away from the street outside.

“But Onryō don’t enslave people, only torment or kill them, don’t they?”

“Maybe this one desired the girl for worse things.”

There’s an eerie lull in the two men’s conversation, imagining the horror of a demon growing in strength and lust for evil.

Your eyebrows furrow, and you stop the condescending sigh that’s rising in your chest.

“How would it even do that?”

Out of the corner of your eye you see the second man lean closer to his companion. “Maybe he ate her heart.”

Your fingers tighten on your cup, your mouth forming a thin line from how your body is slowly tensing up in anger.

“Think about it,” he continued, painting the scene. “The heart chakra is the center of compassion, empathy, forgiveness. An Onryō?” He chuckles darkly, shaking his head. “It’d tear it right from her chest and swallow it into his empty stomach. Instantly she’s tied to it forever, forced to follow the monster that has her heart and suffer it’s desires.”

You take a shaky breath through your nose, setting your cup down. Your stomach is tensing from the urge to find the nearest teapot and just upend the burning liquid over their heads with a impassive face as they scream and burn.

You’re about to stand up when a hand, slender but rough, wraps around your shoulder. A kasa blocks your side view of the men. A familiar pair of lips find their way to the spot behind your ear. “I’m done. Let’s get back to the room,” they murmur.

You try to tilt your head around her large hat to set your hardened eyes on the men again. You estimate if you could successfully make it over there before she grabs you.

“Don’t.”

You turn and look into blue eyes hidden by orange lenses.

“I’ve heard worse,” she utters plainly, glancing outside to see a passing guard. Her hand goes to the hilt of her sword.

The ends of her fingers trail down from your shoulder to press over your heart, feeling it beat under her touch.

A murmur. “Let’s go. Now.”

She guides you with a hand on the small of your back through the tables. You turn and stare with barely contained disgust at the men as you pass by, and it infuriates you when they don’t even notice.

Only a handful of steps away from them the first one blows out a deep breath. A low laugh. “Maybe if we follow the screams of a woman being savagely raped by a monster in the night we can kill it.”

Mizu’s steps slow to a stop.

Your lungs forget how to breathe.

Her hand wraps around your waist with the lightest touch.

The tearoom is so quiet. Your head slowly turns and see that the men are the last ones in there.

“Go back to the room,” her voice is so calm you feel an icy flush dart from your ears, down your neck and rapidly crawl over your spine. It’s that instinctual alarm when a dangerous being is near.

And now, after you felt your own moment of quivering anger, you’re forced to remember what true rage matured by decades of time looks like.

“Mi-“

Her grip tightens to a painful point, and you wince. “Now.”

Her thumb flicks the first several inches of her sword out of the sheath, the metal reflecting the red glow of candlelight.

Her eyes are staring straight ahead, but you know where her attention is now.

When you hesitate too long, she shoves you toward the door. You stumble, your head turning back to glance at the oblivious men. So unaware.

When you stare back at Mizu, her face is impassive. The candlelight in the tea house lights up the orange of her lenses, obscuring your ability to see her eyes anymore.

It’s just flames.

You’ve been pacing your room since you got back. The sky outside has lost the last traces of light.

The last time Mizu’s face was that eerily blank was months ago out in the woods. Ringo was off gathering herbs for dinner when Mizu sat beside you in front of the fire. She hadn’t said a word to either of you for hours.

Her hand had gone to your knee. “You asked me about my mother once,” she had started.

You hesitated, catching on to the weight of this impending conversation. “Yes.”

And then it all came out. She didn’t look at you once, staring into the fire the entire time. You don’t recall her even blinking as she laid everything out bare for you. Her hand clenched tighter and tighter on your knee as she spoke, her arm quivering.

There was only a few seconds between when she finished and Ringo appearing in the tree line again, shouting happily about what he found. You didn’t get a chance to say anything, her hand leaving your knee cold as she quickly retreated to the other side of camp without a word.

Your eyebrows furrow as you silently chew at your nail, your other arm wrapped around your middle.

‘Maybe I should go find Ringo.’

The two of you should go back and look for Mizu. It’s been too long.

You take several hurried steps toward the door when you hear the window slide open behind you, and the chill of the wind rushes in.

You turn, watching Mizu’s blood soaked body climb through the small window. Her sheath makes a muffled thump as she throws it into the room so she can heave herself in.

The blood soaked sheath leaves a short streak of red along the floor from where it slid to a stop.

Mizu’s feet settle on the ground, and she leans back against the open window with a neutral expression. It’s not like the one before, this one is her natural resting expression that isn’t devoid of life. A relief.

Her indifferent expression is normal. The blood soaking into her clothes is normal. The blood splattered across her face is normal.

Her red rimmed eyes are not normal.

She tilts her chin up at you and quirks an eyebrow as your gaze meets.

As if to say, ‘What?’

Mizu…

You silently walk closer, and you see how she leans back against the window as you do. Her bloodied hands clench around the windowsill.

Her eyes harden as you get closer, her jaw clenching. Warning.

But your eyes remain soft, open, unguarded. You reach out and cup the sides of her torso. Unafraid.

Your hands slowly smooth down her sides to her waist and back up. Back down. Again and again. Around her back where you’ve memorized each scar.

She silently, desperately tries to grasp for the last of her stoicism. But her grinding teeth begin to chatter, chest hitching with broken breathes. Her knuckles turn white with how hard she’s gripping the windowsill behind her.

You pry one hand off the window, and it takes several pulls on her wrist before she lets go.

Without breaking eye contact, you stare into her eyes as your hand guides hers to press against your heart. You fold your arms over hers, hugging her arm to your chest as your hand presses down on hers until she feels your heartbeat under her palm.

Constant and unwavering.

A singular, strangled sob tears from her tight throat and she’s crumpling. Tears burn down her cheeks as her form doubles over with the force of her soul finally finding the weak point to break the dam.

It’s you, it’s you, it’s always you and your love for her isn’t it?

Your hand still holds hers tight to your heart as you follow her shaking frame sinking to the floor.

Blood is soaking into your clothes at every point she touches you.

Her head is hanging down between her shoulders, heaving in air more and more and more until she unclenches her jaw and release an ear splitting scream so loud your own teeth clamp shut.

All you can do is hold her until the screaming stops.

When her muscles finally unclench, and her breathing is only a little ragged, you guide her down to lay on her back with her head on your lap.

She blinks up at you, exhaustion lining her wet face. It’s quiet again, so now you’re able to hear how your breathing is in sync.

Her hand, now cracking with dried blood, reaches up and curls around your wrist. Staring intently into your eyes, she guides it under her haori to her own heartbeat.

Blinking away your own tears, you lean over and press your lips to hers.

She closes her eyes as the weight of your hand settles there, and stays.

#mizu x reader #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #blueeyesamurai

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peachesofteal · 6 months

Note

Ok but the comic of the fantasy Ghost and Soap got me thinking about Princess Darling 😭

Princess darling who is a war prize for the guys? Who is delivered to them after the sacking of her father’s territory, a last ditch effort for him to save his neck? And they look like this?

18+ MDNI

“Take my daughter.” He wheedles, slick as a snake, eyes wide and desperate as the flick between them and you. “She’s pure.” Your mouth drops open in outrage, heart thundering in your chest loud enough it rattles your ear drums.

“Father-“ The one in the skull mask with a black hood tilts his head at the sound of your voice, towering over you, gloved fingers flexing on the hilt of his sword.

He can’t mean to give you to these men. They’re… so big. And half covered in blood.

“Quiet.” He snaps, silencing your protest. Your eyes find the floor, counting the grooves and ridges of the marble. Your ribs pressurize around your lungs, squeezing, kneading, keeping your breathing too light in your already too tight corset.

“Ye’ve naught been married?” The brown haired one cocks his head with interest, and your knees tremble. You try to look away, escape the burn of his ice blue eyes, intense gaze unwavering as bear down on you, and your cheeks heat beneath the scrutiny.

“P-please. I know she’s older but-“ You want to cry. Scream. You’ve never been married for many reasons. Not that he cares about a single one of them. Not that the health of his daughter, or her feelings, have ever mattered to him.

“That’s enough.” Skull mask says. He looks at his partner, silence louder than a scream. You can only see the one man’s eyes, but they squint for a moment, before relaxing.

And then, he nods.

“We accept.” Your father loosens a sigh, the exhale loud over the echo of your gasp.

“No!” It’s a sputter, desperate and shocked. “No! No, father- you- you can’t!” He can’t. He wouldn’t. Would he? Send you off with these… marauders?

“Be silent.” He whirls, hand darting through the air to grip your upper arm, fingertips sinking into your skin like daggers. The shriek is automatic, half instinct, half muscle memory, and you flinch away, but he doesn’t let go. He digs in, trying to drag you towards the two and you gasp for air, panic cooling your skin and the sweat on the back of your neck.

“Let me g-“ You scream, choke out a half cry, only for it to be stolen from your lips by the swing of a sword.

Blood spurts from your father’s elbow, where it’s been cut clean off, his forearm and hand falling limply away from your body, a ruby red fountain spraying all over your face, your chest, your dress.

Your father howls, hand going to clamp over where his arm is now a bloodied stump. You’re stunned, frozen in time, just watching as he stumbles to his knees, face twisted in anguish.

You’re so distracted, that you don’t even know the blue eyed man has come up behind you, wrapping a thick arm around your waist. You feel his mouth, his breath, ghosting along your ear, warmth tickling your skin as the skull face turns to give him a nod, sword hanging precariously over your father’s bent neck. “Time to go, love. Close those pretty eyes for me now.”

You don’t know why, but you do. You let your eyes slip closed, let this monster scoop you up, let him cradle you to his chest. If you keep your eyes closed, you can just pretend. Pretend this isn’t happening. Pretend it’s not real.

There’s noise in the background, but a big hand covers your ear, pressing you against his leathered armor, right over his heart.

“Good girl, darling.”

#peaches asks #peaches writes #ghoap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #f!reader

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holylulusworld · 2 months

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TOL - I’m your daddy now (1) - Lloyd Hansen

Summary: You reached the end of the rope.

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Singlemom!Reader

Warnings: plus-sized reader, needy Lloyd, Lloyd being Lloyd, Lloyd is an ass and boob enthusiast, mentions of sex for money, money trouble, mentions of cheating (her ex), groping, slight mommy kink (kinda, it's Lloyd)

A/N: This is part of my Traders of love (lust) masterlist series. It's the prequel to TOL - Like a virgin (Bucky Barnes) and tells the story about Lloyd and his assistant sunshine.

You reached the end of the rope.

With your three-year-old little boy depending on you, it’s not easy to face reality. In two weeks, you will have to leave your home. The bank will take the house, and even the wreck of a car you call your own.

Your deadbeat of a husband left you with nothing but debs and resentment for men. He’s out and about with a younger, prettier, and slimmer girl. – His words, not yours.

While you tried to save your marriage, he fucked some woman he met at a bar behind your back. You knew he was a sleazy and worthless bastard, but never expected him to turn his back on his son too.

It’s not that you didn’t try anything to make enough money to pay for the mortgage and feed your son. One too many nights you went to bed hungry, only lukewarm water in your belly to at least save enough money to buy food for your baby boy.

“Mommy,” your little boy yawns as he looks up at you. He holds out his chubby hands, whining because you don’t pick him up. You just look at him for a moment, feeling your heart chatter all over again.

“How could I ever fall for your father,” you sniffle when you pick your son up. You peck his cheek and sigh. “At least he gave me you. The only good thing coming out of this relationship.”

You nuzzle his cheek and try to ignore the ache in your chest, and your growling stomach. At least you got paid yesterday. It’s not enough to keep the house for another month, but you can get food on the table.

Whatever happens tomorrow, you don’t know. The website you found promised help in hopeless situations. You never know with the internet, but it’s your last resort.

If they don’t keep their promises, you’ll end up on the street with your son only because your husband ran off with all of your savings. He even stole the money your grandmother left you for desperate times.

“Hi, uh-I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I have an appointment,” you wring your hands while looking around the lobby of the building inheriting the company promising to save your home. The woman at the reception doesn’t even look your way. She huffs and lifts her perfectly manicured index finger to stop you from talking.

“I don’t think you are what we are looking for,” she snaps at you, and your heart sinks. You look down at your body, sighing deeply. The business outfit you are wearing is a tight fit. You gained weight during pregnancy you never got the chance to lose. “You should go home and bake cookies for your kid.”

She points her finger at the stain on your blouse, simply to embarrass you even more. Some women are like that. They try to feel better, or above you by making you feel small.

“Kiki, that is enough,” you flinch when a hand brushes over your ass. The man pats your cheeks, humming happily. “What do we have here?” He purrs and gropes one cheek. “A perfect plump ass.”

“Mr. Hansen, Sir,” the woman splutters. She looks like she saw a ghost, or worse, a monster wanting to eat her alive. “I told her that she doesn’t belong here.”

“Kiki, Kiki,” Hansen tuts while patting your ass. “I decide who belongs here.”

You don’t know what to do. Usually, you’d slap any guy trying to feel you up across the face or kick their balls. But this man could be your way out of your financial crisis.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Hansen but just look at her,” she squeaks, and points at you. “I don’t think any of our clients want something like this to fulfill their…”

“ENOUGH!” Hansen slams his fist onto the receptionist's desk, making Kiki flinch. “We never talk about our clients nor our employees in front of people outside of our organization. You are dismissed.”

“What?” She stares at Hansen in disbelief. “For today or…”

“Forever,” he huffs and turns around. The man brushes his index finger and thumb over his mustache and grins like he saw something he’d love to devour. You are afraid it’s you.

“I have an appointment,” you clear your throat and try to ignore your heart hammers in your chest. This man looks more like a wolf, with sharp teeth and glowing eyes, than a man.

“I know, sunshine,” he smirks and holds out his hand. “Please excuse my annoying assistant. She’s no longer working for me.”

You’d love to roll your eyes at the man in front of you. He’s one of the guys who believe you must immediately fall for his charm and non-existent manners.

“If you’d like to follow me inside my office, sugar plum,” he wraps his arm around your shoulders, and snickers, "we can talk about your problems and how to solve them.”

“So…” He plops down on a leather couch. He pats the seat next to him, but you prefer standing in the room. “What brings you here, sunshine. How can Lloyd help you?”

“I found your website while searching for a way to keep my house,” you lick your lips. You hate that you must talk about your situation with this man.

“Humor me,” he smirks and pats the seat again. “If you want me to help you, I want to know it all. From the beginning.”

He tilts his head and looks you up and down. “What do you want to know?” You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “I came here, even though your offer sounded fishy. I reached the end of the rope.” You throw your hands up, and sniffle.

“Now, now. No tears in Lloyd Hansen’s office,” he gets up to march toward you. Lloyd cups your face and tilts your head. “I need to know every detail, sunshine. If you are lying, I’ll send you home with a slap to your plump ass.”

“Fine,” you snap at him and push against his chest. “Quit pro quo, Mr. Hansen. After I told you everything about my situation, I want the truth about your offer.”

“Be my guest,” he smirks darkly. “I hope you don’t pee your pants getting to know the truth.”

“I came this far,” you sniff, “you don’t scare me, Mr. Hansen. You’re not the first man wanting me to fail.”

“A cocky one, I see,” Lloyd says as he sits back down on the sofa. “Begin, then.”

“What do you want to know? That my deadbeat of a husband left me for some bitch he met at a bar?” You drop your bag onto his desk and take your jacket off. “Or that I must raise my three-year-old son without him because his dick was more important?”

You stride toward Lloyd and step between his legs. He looks up at you, amused as you cup your tits. “I will lose my house and my car. I don’t make enough money to keep the house. He stole the money I spared to give her a nice life.”

“I see,” he licks his lips. “I think you already got what I have to offer.” Lloyd tilts his head and smirks as you start to unbutton your blouse.

“You want me to fuck you, right? That’s all this is about,” you wrinkle your nose. “And I’ll get the money I need to keep my house.”

He grins now. “Sunshine, you didn’t get that this is about business. I’ll put you on my website and my clients can decide if they want to fuck you or not.”

“Oh…” You sigh deeply. “I guess this means there is no hope.” You turn around to grab your bag. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

“Sunshine, wait,” he’s on his feet before you can grab your jacket. “I didn’t say you can just leave. Don’t you want to end up getting fucked good by my clients?”

“Do you honestly believe I was waiting to get fucked by random douches,” you turn back around and slap Lloyd with your bag. “I came here to find help, not dick.”

His grin widens as you slap his chest, face, and shoulder with your bag. “Careful, sunshine. If you don’t watch out, you’ll end up making me rock hard.”

“You’re disgusting,” you wrinkle your nose and cock a brow.

“Oh, mommy can get mad,” he purrs and roams your body with his eyes. “I bet you are a strict mommy, huh? Do you scold your baby boy?”

“No!” You snap at Lloyd. “Keep my son out of this!” You slap him with your bag again. “Never mention my kid again, you asshole!”

“I knew you were special, sunshine,” he chuckles and grabs your wrist to keep you from slapping him again. “A wildcat ready to scratch and bite me.”

“I’m a tiger mommy if you want to know,” you growl and snap your teeth at Lloyd when he tries to press his lips to yours. “I’ll do anything to protect my son.”

“Sunshine, you’ve got yourself a deal,” Lloyd drops his hands from your arms to grab your face again. This time he kisses you roughly. You bite his lower lip, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He greedily shoves his tongue inside your mouth, devouring your mouth. “I think you’ll make a grand-prime assistant slash sexy bunny for me…”

Part 2

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #traders of love #lloyd hansen x plussized!reader #plussized reader #lloyd hansen x y/n #I’m your daddy now (1)

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justmediocrewriting · 2 months

Note

Hello, saw your NSFW prompts and since there can be combinations, I'd really like to request 1, 15 and 30 with Zoro, just love to see soft dom Zoro taking care of reader! Only if it's OK with you and please take your time at your own pace! 😊

A/n: blurb? Who’s she? Y’all I got fucking carried away with this. Did not expect it to come out to this monster length, but oh well *shrugs*. I hope you all enjoy this one as much as I did!

Prompt(s): “is it your first time, baby?” – “you’re so damn tight.” – “think twice before you say yes; because once I start, I’m not stopping.” (#1, #15, #30)

Pairing: zoro x fem!reader

Word Count: 11k (jfc)

Warnings/tags: explicit sexual content, soft!dom zoro, virgin!reader, brief descriptions of virginity loss, soft!zoro, slow sex, porn with feelings, gentle!zoro, bigdick!zoro, cunnilingus, oral (m receiving), spit as lube, afab!reader, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampies, very small breeding kink, established relationship, first time together, language, dirty talk, does get slightly awkward at times because hey first times, duh. Zoro was drafted to be soft but rough!Zoro sort of took control of my mind oopsie

“You’re nervous.”

Zoro’s statement wasn’t even a question — it was just a blatant observation, one that you had no doubt the perceptive swordsman would make quickly. Embarrassment clawed up your skin and you shifted in his lap, casting your eyes to the side to avoid looking into his; you hoped Zoro wouldn’t mistake your nerves for disinterest or something else of the sort, but you had a sinking feeling that that’s the only reasonable conclusion your actions would lead Zoro to.

Which was a bit disheartening, because this was something you wanted, something you’d thought about, a lot, it was just… kind of scary.

You weren’t a complete virgin, per se; you’d had some pretty serious sexual encounters with other men before Zoro, but there was a rather glaring difference between Zoro and your other partners — and that difference was standing at attention, digging in to your clothed core with the heat of a searing brand, thick and long and intimidating.

Zoro was fucking huge, and that was cause enough for your nerves and trepidation; libido and desire be damned.

“It’s just…you’re just… a bit… big…” you mumbled slowly, cheeks flaring with heat and stomach fluttering with nerves — your eyes flicked downward and that faint fluttering turned to full on somersaults when you caught sight of his bulge, right there and straining between your parted legs. How would that ever be able to fit…?

“We don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for, y’know.” Zoro rumbled, voice thick with amusement, and he slid his hands up and down the length of your plush thighs in a manner that was simultaneously comforting and titillating.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for it,” you muttered with a dry chuckle, attempting to release some of your nervous energy by fiddling with the loose strings of his shirt collar. Zoro’s mouth opened, more than likely to say something similar to “then we don’t have to do anything,” and you quickly cut him off before he could even start.

“But,” you flicked your eyes up to his bashfully, pinning your bottom lip between your teeth, your heart thundering within your chest and skin crawling with ants, “I want it.”

Zoro’s eyes widened fractionally and his lips opened in a small ‘o’, and in the next instant he let out a groan and slipped his eyes closed as he dug his head into the pillow behind him.

“Fuck, you can’t just say something like that.” Zoro wisped, fingers digging ever so slightly into your thighs and hips tensing beneath you, as if he was stopping them from bucking upwards.

Zoro’s reaction had some of your nerves slipping away to be replaced by a strange sort of confidence, and your fingers stilled in their twiddling of his shirt strings. You trailed your hand down until it rested just above his midsection, right between his pecs, and leaned down to ghost your lips over his. An excited tingle ran down your spine at the proximity.

“Why not? It’s true.”

Zoro popped open an eye lazily, drawing a triangle over your face once, then twice, and then suddenly he was shooting up with movements that were far too fast for you to catch with your eyes. You yelped when his hands detached from your thighs in favor of wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him. Your faces were now inches apart, and you could feel more than see the smile on his lips.

“Are you sure that’s what you want, baby?”

Zoro’s eyes were twinkling, but they were also swimming with something serious, too. The look in his eyes had you second guessing yourself suddenly, your original fears being ripped back to the surface through your sudden bravado. Fooling around was one thing, but going all the way… that was another entirely, something that Zoro seemed to understand on a surprisingly deep level.

But there was something in Zoro’s eyes that told you he didn’t truly understand the reason behind your nervous hesitation, despite the fact that you’d told him just moments prior.

“I want to have sex,” you blurted out before you could filter it, your blatant admission knocking Zoro visibly off-balance as his face contorted into surprise. Already far enough gone, you pushed away the rest of your bashfulness and rushed out the rest of your conviction before Zoro could fully recover and somehow steal your ability to do so.

“I mean, we’ve been together for a while now, and I’ve been thinking about it, a lot; I know what I want, but it’s just…”

You couldn’t help but trail off, that branding heat between your legs, now crushed against you even tighter due to the change in position, acting as a physical manifestation of cause of your doubt. Surely Zoro — smart, attentive, perceptive Zoro — could grasp what your fear was without you blatantly spelling out once again.

Of course, you’d have no such luck; because Zoro was just a mischievous as he was perceptive, and he would never give up an opportunity to tease the hell out of you.

“It’s just ‘what’, baby?”

Shooting him a glare, you decided not to play into his game; he wanted to fluster you, and at the moment, you couldn’t handle that — and it seemed to have slipped Zoro’s mind that you could give just as good as you got; one of the biggest factors that contributed to Zoro’s initial attraction to you.

“Your dick’s too big.” You deadpanned, a small glimmer of satisfaction burning within your chest when Zoro’s expression turned to flat flabbergasted.

Shoot and score.

Zoro’s eyes narrowed and that flame of satisfaction was harshly doused by resignation.

Or not.

“You keep saying things like that and I may not be able to control myself.” Zoro said, and though his tone was even, his body had ultimately betrayed his true feelings when his cock twitched between your crushed bodies. You’d felt him do that before, the most frequent incident being just about ten minutes prior to this before Zoro had interrupted your heavy make out session, but feeling it do so during this particular conversation affected you in a way it hadn’t previously.

It turned you on immensely.

Goaded by Zoro’s clear interest and your own arousal, you shifted your hips ever so subtly, dragging your core against his hardness and subsequently pulling a breathy groan from the man.

“What if I don’t want you to?” You murmured against Zoro’s lips, dancing your fingers up Zoro’s ribcage in a featherlight touch. Zoro shivered beneath you and his eyes slipped closed momentarily, his cock responding to the stimulation with another harsh twitch.

But then his eyes popped open and your balance was upset when Zoro completely flipped your position, your back landing against the sheets sprawled out over the floor, Zoro’s large hands effectively muffling the impact — but even so, the makeshift pallet wasn’t the most comfortable thing, and you felt a sudden pang of sympathy for Zoro’s back, though the swordsman hadn’t even complained once during your previous engagement.

With the change in position came a shift in dynamic, and with Zoro looming over you, eyes hardened with seriousness and lips in a tight line, that brief flickering of bravado was silenced, and your skin flushed with bashfulness.

Zoro was silent above you for a long moment, his eyes searching, and though part of you wanted to break the eye contact, you couldn’t bring yourself to; something about his intensity demanded that the eye contact remain, and your body was helpless to its inclination to obey, your own nerves and sanity be damned.

“If this is what you want, you need to be sure.” Zoro rumbled, voice husky and deep, sending shivers down your spine.

“You need to think twice before you say yes; because once I start, I can’t guarantee I’ll stop.”

A lump lodged itself in your throat, a composition of nerves, trepidation, and excitement, growing larger with each second of eye contact that passed.

There was so much swimming within Zoro’s orbs, only a few of which you could confidently identify; arousal, excitement, uncertainty, and the faintest wisp of desperation — Zoro needed this consent, you realized with a start; because as much as Zoro wanted this too, he didn’t want to hurt you.

You’d been given your warning, generously so, and part of you wondered if you would get another after this should you choose not to heed it for now.

Part of you wondered if you even wanted another one.

Your stomach was alight with mixed sensations; arousal, nerves, trepidation, anticipation, excitement, love — and your body was itching with simultaneous urges; to pull Zoro’s lips to yours, to run away, to shove him off, to pull him closer, to just get on with it. Honestly, if this continued, your body would burst apart at the seams, until there was nothing left of you but a pile of goo.

To mute that erratic buzzing of your brain and body, you shot your hand up and grabbed Zoro’s nape, pulling him down to crush his lips to yours and initiate a rough dance.

Zoro was quick to respond, lips immediately finding the comfortable rhythm that you had failed to in your haste, caressing yours in that way that always sparked electricity across your skin.

You let out a small moan as you allowed yourself to follow his lead, which was surprisingly gentle and sensual despite the simmering tension the sudden liplock produced, and your body relaxed. This was familiar — the sensations from this was familiar — and it was successfully melting away that buzz that had been tormenting you. Zoro pulled a hand from beneath you and brought it up to your cheek, swiping his thumb across the skin in a tender caress, and your chest warmed significantly.

You were incredibly lucky to see this soft side of the strong, silent, stoic swordsman — incredibly lucky to know Zoro, to know him in intimate ways, to see past the brute strength and raw talent, to see deeper into who he truly was; flaws and all. You were lucky to be able to love him.

Zoro trusted you with this side of him, with his entirety; and you trusted Zoro, implicitly. Trusted him to care for your heart, mind and body.

There was no one else who was worthy of that trust.

You broke your liplock by turning your face to the side, nuzzling into the palm on your cheek and ghosting your lips over it tenderly. Zoro’s breath caught in his throat and his fingers twitched, on both the hand you were nuzzling into and the one still buried beneath your back, and you slowly opened your eyes to meet his.

“I trust you, Zoro.” You whispered, a sentiment breathed only into the bubble between the two of you, meant only for Zoro’s ears. Zoro’s onyx orbs shifted across your face, tracing over every detail etched into the flesh, searching, and after a moment, he smiled softly.

“Is that a ‘yes’?” Zoro asked, voice lowered to the same degree as yours, but shaky with something that stoked those burning embers in your gut. Zoro’s hand was just as shaky as his voice, fingertips sliding across your skin tenderly, his eyes taking on a hue of reverence as he stared down at you.

Trepidation once more fluttered in your chest, but it was heavily smothered by excitement and anticipation, and you swallowed it down as you nodded jerkily.

“Yeah, it is, Zoro.”

Zoro sucked in a sharp breath over his teeth and his lips were once more smothering yours, Zoro’s movements now taking on a hungrier edge, and you responded in kind, flicking your tongue against his bottom lip every so often and pulling trembling groans from his throat — Zoro was being far more vocal than he had been earlier, and it was absolutely stirring you up inside, because he sounded so beautiful.

Zoro’s palm removed itself from your face and slid down your bicep, then your arm, all the way down until he could grab your hand and pull it upwards, pinning it beside your face by enclosing it within his in an embrace. You couldn’t help but notice how much larger his hand was than yours, how easily it caged and encased yours, filling your chest with a sense of security and safety. The action seemed almost like an unspoken promise.

“I’ll take care of you.”

The sentiment somehow thickened the tension within you, arousal and anticipation growing ever more fierce in your gut, and now your hands were working over Zoro’s body — the hand still on his nape had morphed from a resting state to one of movement, fingers combing through the short hairs at the base of Zoro’s neck, and the other shot up to grope at his thick bicep, his forearm, his shoulder, his neck, his jaw; everywhere it could reach comfortably.

Zoro vibrated your lips with an appreciative hum, his other hand slipping from beneath you and trailing down your ribcage, ratcheting up the tension when it reached your thigh and squeezed. His feverish lips never left yours as he slid his hand beneath the crook of your knee and lifted your leg, hiking it over his hip until your heel rested against his lower back. The movement spread your legs and allowed Zoro to slot his hips between your thighs, and when his hand slid up once more to grab hold of your hip and keep you in place as he ground his clothed cock into your core, you couldn’t stop the loud moan that tore from your lips from the friction against your clit, which was now throbbing slightly.

Zoro sucked the sound down greedily, plunging his tongue into your open mouth roughly and exploring every inch of the wet crevice. Zoro’s tongue faintly tasted of the fruity wine he’d sampled earlier that evening, and though you weren’t a fan of alcohol, you found yourself growing addicted to the taste, and you slid your tongue sloppily against his to chase more of it.

Zoro’s hips continued to gyrate against you in slow, almost sloppy movements, his large cock twitching every so often, the combined sensations fogging up your brain and electrifying your skin. Zoro’s size was beginning to look less intimidating and more enticing to your hormone-wracked head.

Zoro’s hand slowly disentangled itself from yours and fell to your other hip, taking it in a firm grip and in working in unison with his other to hoist your bottom half up. Zoro shuffled himself beneath your bottom and then set your ass atop his thighs, your ankles subconsciously locking together behind his back and effectively holding you against his clothed cock while also freeing his hands.

“A natural, baby.” Zoro murmured against your lips, sliding a hand up and down your left leg in approval. You whimpered into his mouth and shifted your hips to move in time with his, electricity sparking up your spine as pleasure bloomed inside your clit from the friction. Zoro groaned in response, his hand stilling over your calf and then gripping it tightly, subtle pain exploding beneath his fingertips that only served to fan those embers in your gut. You could feel wetness forming between your folds, and you were suddenly bit with the need for relief.

The only problem was that you weren’t sure what relief your body was begging for.

The air was tense and simmering — what you and Zoro were engaging in wasn’t uncommon; but somehow, it was made so much more electrifying with the knowledge of the end goal, and it was driving you insane, stoking your libido to intensities that you hadn’t ever experienced in your life. But it was near suffocating, and it was bringing forth trickles of slight panic.

As if innately sensing this, Zoro slipping his tongue from your mouth and pulled away a few inches, taking with him that addictive sweet-wine and pleasant sensations. Zoro’s hips also stilled, and the combined losses pulled a whimper of dissatisfaction from your lips.

“Hey, look at me, baby.” Zoro cooed, and your eyes fluttered open to meet his; but even you could tell that they more than likely appeared hazy and unfocused to him, because you were finding it hard to concentrate with that hot buzz beneath your skin. But Zoro had told you to look at him, so you did your best to focus on his face, currently etched with seriousness.

“Do you really want this baby?” Zoro asked after his was placated enough by your attention, and it took you a bit of time to sober up and digest his words. When you did, you nodded eagerly, leaning your head up to chase after his lips again. But Zoro pulled his head back further, rejecting your advance and bringing a pout to your lips.

“You need to be sure. I need you to be sure.”

The desperation in Zoro’s words pulled you fully from that arousal-induced fog, and when you looked into his eyes, you saw the glimmer of something you never thought you’d see within his eyes — fear. Your voice was stolen from you in the blink of an eye, and your heart constricted painfully within your chest.

“I-I won’t be able to stop myself; I need you to understand that. So if you don’t want this, if you aren’t ready, you need to push me away now.”

On your next inhale your chest filled with much more than just oxygen; it was about to burst with pure affection and love, with adoration and pride, with lust and desire, all directed towards the foreign uncertainty plaguing your routinely stoic lover. You surged up quickly and slotted your lips against Zoro’s before the man had the chance to pull back, but you didn’t try to evolve the kiss into something more.

This was reassurance, and nothing more.

You pulled back after a solid few seconds of contact, and with as much conviction as you could muster, you swiped your thumb across his nape and whispered, “I’m sure, Zoro. I want you to take me.”

The groan your words pulled from Zoro was deep, guttural, and completely unhinged; his hips bucked forward and he shoved his face into the crook of his neck, his breaths fanning hot over the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, you don’t — you can’t — shit, you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

Zoro’s statement had your chest feeling giddy with confidence, and you bucked your hips up to grind your core against his hardness, pulling another groan from him and earning a slight pinch to your calf.

“I think I have a faint idea.” You said cheekily, bumping your heel teasingly into his lower back. Zoro chuckled airily into the crook of your neck, and after a moment’s silence, he retracted his face and stared down at you with that serious expression again, and it was beginning to kind of irritate you.

“If we’re going to do this, you have to do everything I say, okay?” Zoro rumbled, pulling a small smirk and a raised brow from you in response.

“Power play, huh? Kinky. I like it.”

Zoro shook his head but the quirk of his lips told you that he still found some amusement in your statement. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” You retorted back, and found yourself slightly flustered by the truthfulness of your sentiment. The thought of Zoro doling out orders, guiding you on what to do, when to do it and how… it was more than a little exciting.

Zoro’s breath left him in a furious exhale and his eyes clenched closed, the fierce throb of his cock against your clit topping off his rather stimulating reaction.

“Okay, fuck, okay, yeah. For right now, just follow my lead and do what feels natural.” Zoro explained, eyes opening again and near pitch black from the dilation of his pupils. Zoro was so turned on, and it was only serving to turn you on even more.

“Yes, sir.” You whispered back, voice low and sultry, both teasing and genuine, and Zoro growled in response before leaning down to capture your lips in a crushing kiss. His lips moved against yours hotly, fervently, as if he was trying to devour you.

You tried your best to keep up with Zoro, but his lips were fast, as were his hands, sliding and groping and pinching at every bit of skin, clothed and not, that he could reach.

“Fuck, these clothes need to be off,” Zoro growled, hands twisting into the hem of your shirt and pulling it up. You arched your back to allow him better access, and within moments you were left clad in just your thin bra. Zoro immediately leaned back down to place wet, heated kisses along the top of your breasts, trailing hot breaths along your skin as he worked his hands up and down your sides.

“Zoro,” you gasped out, tangling your fingers into the fine hair at the base of his neck, the passionate attention against your skin throwing a stone of pure arousal into your gut, your hips twitching and bucking against the heat of his cock. Wetness smeared along the inside of your panties, copious in its volume and far slicker than anything you’d produced before.

“Fuck, you have no idea how much I’ve thought about this,” Zoro growled into your skin, humping against your gyrating hips and dragging his cock across your clit in a way that sent pure tingles up your spine. “How long I’ve wanted to fuck you. I’ve been so patient.”

Fiery arousal licked up your entire body, Zoro’s admission sending you to just the right side of crazy. You combed your fingers up his skull until you reached the thickest spot of hair, then tangled your fingers within lightly and pushed his head further against your breasts, sighing out softly at the graze of teeth along the flesh.

“Yes, yes, you’ve been so patient, baby.” You murmured, lips tingling with the urge to feel his. “I kept you waiting so long. I’m sorry.”

As if innately sensing your desire, or maybe suddenly overcome with his own, Zoro’s lips retracted from your breast and he leaned his head up just far enough to crash his mouth into yours, colliding your lips in a series of hot, open mouthed kisses. Drool slipped down the corner of your mouth, but your brain didn’t have the capacity to truly focus on the sensation when it was so preoccupied by the pleasure of Zoro’s bucking hips and the branding of his lips.

Zoro was panting and groaning into your mouth, the sounds growing in volume as his hips picked up speed, accelerating to a pace that it felt as though he was trying to fuck you through the layers of clothes. Your pussy throbbed and gushed at the thought, and you moaned deeply into his mouth.

Your other hand traced down the outline of his muscles through his shirt, dipping into the defined ridges and lines and tracing over the heated skin. In response, Zoro tucked his hands beneath your back and raised your torso up until it could press flush against his, crushing your hand between your bodies. Zoro’s thrusts never faltered, and the new proximity had your head completely melting.

But even so you could still latch onto one coherent thought, and that was that Zoro’s shirt should be off. Right now.

Breaking the heated embrace of your lips you slid your hand from his hair and down until your fingertips dipped into his haramaki, fumbling around until they grazed the hem of his shirt tucked beneath.

“Shirt. Off.” You whispered, earning a huffy chuckle from the swordsman and a breathy “as you wish.”

Zoro disconnected your bodies and set you back gently on the sheets, rising to rest on his knees, which were still tucked beneath the globes of your ass. You watched with growing anticipation as Zoro shuffled his haramaki down and untucked his shirt from it, pulling the hem up and over those fucking abs, shit, they were fucking delicious — and that toned chest with those pecs, those strong, broad shoulders, fuck — the sight made your brain fog even more than before. You continued to gawk at his bare torso even as he eventually discarded his shirt to an unknown corner of the room, eyes too focused on the art in front of you to register the sly smirk that pulled his lips.

“Like what you see, baby?” Zoro quizzed, and you couldn’t even find the capacity to dredge up any bashfulness or indignation at his confidence. You only nodded, mouth feeling awfully heavy all of the sudden.

That beautiful sight was robbed when Zoro leaned down and bracketed your head with his forearms on either side, his breath ghosting over your lips as he said, rather sweetly, “so do I.”

Zoro’s lips were soft when he captured yours in a gentle embrace, one that was far different to the hungry, avid caresses of earlier. Even lacking that heat, the sensuality behind it affected you just as deeply, and your pussy once again throbbed, and you found yourself wanting more; more skin, more contact, more Zoro.

To iterate this point you pressed back against Zoro with a bit more heat behind your lips, swiping your tongue across his bottom lip in an effort to draw out his own wine-drenched muscle. Zoro happily obliged the silent command, and once again your kiss melted into a hot, sticky, messy dance, full of teeth and tangled tongues and serenaded by slick slaps and squelches.

Your head was getting fuzzy again. All you could think about was Zoro.

You whimpered into his mouth and bucked your hips, tempting his into driving into your core once again, and the man followed through, his breaths turning to hot pants as he picked up his previous pace.

“Gods, I can’t wait to be inside you.” Zoro growled against your lips, breaking your liplock to lean back and stare heatedly into your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about doing this for so long; ever since you told me you’ve never gone all the way before.”

Your breath stalled in your throat and your pussy gushed out more liquid against his cock, his words stirring your gut up in ways you never thought possible. Wetting your lips you breathed out a shaky, “yeah?”

“Fuck, yeah.” Zoro confirmed, leaning down to rub his nose along your racing pulse point. Zoro gripped your left hip and rocked his hips into yours with more force, your tits bouncing from the velocity of it. The rough treatment to your clit had it throbbing heavily, and your gut cinched in a way that was near terrifying due to its foreignness. “It’s so fucking hot to be your first. To be the first dick to split you open and show you heaven.”

Your back arched and tingles shot through your hips, electricity sparking within your very muscles as moans were pulled from throat and that cinched something snapped inside your gut, and your clit seemed to suddenly develop its own heartbeat as your body tensed completely.

What the fuck just happened?

It felt… like an orgasm, but it was far more intense than you’d ever had in your life.

“Fuck, baby, did you just come?” Zoro growled into your skin, hips slowing to a smooth rocking. You could only nod, completely flabbergasted, as the waves of your orgasm receded until they faded completely and your skin flushed with embarrassment.

“That’s so goddamn hot, fuck. I’ve gotta get a taste.”

Before you could fully comprehend his words and react Zoro had dislodged your legs from around his waist and shuffled down and was in the process of pulling down the hem of your shorts. With a small squeal that you would deny ever making you gripped his wrists to halt his movements. Zoro’s eyes, glimmering with excitement and now frustration, bore daggers into your own wide ones.

“W-what are you doing?” You asked, voice a little shrill, which prompted Zoro to raise a brow and tug lightly on your shorts.

“Getting a taste. Now let go.” He said flippantly, batting your hands away from his, as if his actions weren’t currently heating you to the temperature of combustion. Of all the experience you currently had, receiving oral was not among the list; all your previous partners never bothered to indulge in it, and Zoro’s inclination to do so struck a chord of uncertainty within you.

“But—”

“I thought you were going to do everything I say?” Zoro rebutted before you could get any more words out, and any remaining arguments were stolen straight from your tongue. Satisfied by your complacency Zoro focused on the task of shedding you of your shorts, peeling them from your ankles and throwing them into a darkened corner of the room. You flushed when you heard Zoro take a sharp inhale, and your hips twitched ever so slightly when he ran his fingers over the lacy patterns of your panties.

“Oh, fuck…” Zoro breathed out, fingers sliding dangerously low, stopping just centimeters above your core. “You’re so wet. I can see it straight through them.”

“Shut up,” you whimpered without any real heat, cinching your eyes shut and balling your fists at your sides.

“No need to be embarrassed,” Zoro tutted, sliding a finger directly over your core and pulling a surprised noise from your lips. “It’s hot as fuck. And besides, you’re going to need this if you expect to take me without breaking in half.”

Those words should have ripped your earlier and fear and trepidation right back to the surface, but it did the exact opposite — instead, your body trembled and the moan that fell from your lips was so wanton that you couldn’t hardly believe it came from you. You fucking wanted it, and you wanted it bad.

“Shit, that got you excited baby? Let me see how much.” Zoro growled, hooking his thumbs into your panties and pulling them down and completely off in one swift movement. Cold air slapped against your heated core and your legs slammed shut instinctively — except, they were stopped almost immediately by Zoro’s ribs, and you shot up from your laying position when the cold was replaced by searing heat.

Your folds were parted by Zoro’s insistent tongue, which, after gathering up every bit of slick it could, quickly found a place against your clit, which he abused immediately with firm presses and fast circles.

“Oh, my gods,” you said on a shaky exhale, pleasure zipping through your entire core at each lick and twirl Zoro laved against your clit. You expected your previous orgasm to dull the intensity of the pleasure, but if anything, it only deepened it, and you were helpless to stop the moans falling from your mouth or the subtle rocking of your hips. Your limbs were beginning to feel weak, so you leaned back to rest on your elbows, eyes focused on Zoro’s head between your thighs.

The sight was so erotic, made even more so by the symphonies of wet lapping and groaning that glided up to tickle your ears. Zoro’s eyes were darkened as they peered into yours, tongue completely tearing you apart with fast, firm movements, reducing you to nothing but putty at Zoro’s mercy.

“Fuck, h-how are you so good at th-that?” You asked, a moan catching in your throat when Zoro’s tongue once again dipped down and parted your folds to gather up the slick that had accumulated there during his focus on your clit. Zoro didn’t answer you, not that you necessarily expected him to, but his tongue became ever more aggressive, now alternating between abusing your clit, parting your folds, and even plunging ever so slightly into your tight cunt — he was assaulting you with a myriad of movements, shifting between them at a speed of which your foggy brain couldn’t dare to try to anticipate the next, and you could feel another orgasm building.

Shit, this felt better than you ever imagined.

Zoro knew when you had finally reached that edge, eyes reading your movements like a hawk, and he was quick to up the ante on your clit in order to push you over. Your second orgasm of the night, much more anticipated than the first, crashed over you silently, your entire body curling in on itself and your thighs strangling Zoro’s ribs as your mouth popped open and your legs shook. Zoro continued to lap at your pussy as you rode your high, up until the point that you had to reach down and tug at his hair to pull him away due to the pleasure turning to pain from overstimulation.

Zoro was quick to climb up your body and crash his lips to yours, tongue plunging itself past your lips and spreading your spend across your own taste buds. Your expectations were once again defied as you found yourself finding the taste and action highly erotic, and you hooked a shaky leg over Zoro’s waist to pull his cock flush against your throbbing, sopping cunt as you reciprocated the kiss. You moaned deeply into his mouth as you registered that his cock was even harder than before, straining against his pants in a way that had to be uncomfortable.

You pushed against Zoro’s chest and disconnected your lips. “Y-you too. I wanna do it to you, too.” You whimpered, pulling a groan and faint buck of hips from Zoro.

“You don’t have to,” Zoro murmured, but his tone was shaky and excited, and it was fairly clear to you that he greatly favored the idea. With a small shake of your head you pressed against his chest more insistently, prompting him to clamber off of you.

With as much bravado as you could muster you ordered Zoro to lie on his back, which he smoothly obliged to, crossing his arms behind his head over the pillow. You shuffled up the length of his body until you could plant your rear on his thighs, excitement tingling up your spine as you were able to get another good look at his defined torso — of those broad muscles and that firm chest, those tempting abs and that v-line carved by the gods which led all the way down to his cock, which was standing in a proud tent between his legs. So big and thick.

You swallowed down your sudden nerves and reached out tentatively to plant your palm just beneath his navel, sucking in a sharp breath at the firm muscle beneath. It sent shudders of arousal through your body — his body was just too sexy, all firm and sculpted, every angle sharp and defined.

“Are you just gonna stare or are you gonna do something?” Zoro drawled, snapping you out of your reverie. Your eyes met his, which were twinkling with amusement, and you huffed out a laugh, feeling more than a little awkward at being caught; even though the events that had just transpired should be far more embarrassing than being caught gawking at him.

You slid your hand down, intent on unbuttoning Zoro’s pants, but found a hindrance in the form of his haramaki, which was still wrapped around his waist. You sighed and tapped the red stretch of fabric.

“You’ll need to take this off, Zoro.” You murmured, tracing the lines with the tip of your fingers.

“Nah, just push it up. I’m comfortable here.” Zoro responded coolly, and you rolled your eyes at his antics.

“You’ll still need to lift up a little in order for me to do that.”

Zoro huffed but complied nonetheless, lifting his torso up and surprising you by lifting the haramaki up himself and hiking it until it rested just below his pecs before returning to his original position. Somehow, the sight was incredibly erotic, and you felt your pussy suddenly heat up and clench around nothing. To your relief, the brief interaction between the two of you had wiped away the nervous energy you had developed, and when you finally unbuttoned Zoro’s pants and sprung his cock free, all you could feel was red hot arousal and anticipation.

You knew that Zoro was huge, but what you felt through his pants didn’t do any justice to his true size. Drool accumulated quickly in your mouth as you gazed at his hard-on, standing straight up, long and thick, thicker than any other other cock you’d ever seen, with a tan base nestled into fine pubes and a bulbous tip, which was already leaking clear fluid.

“Oh, fuck.” You breathed out, eyes wide and lips parted. It looked so… tantalizing, and the stretch promised to your mouth and throat was far too enticing for you to stall any longer. You wrapped a gentle hand around Zoro, pulling a small groan from his lips, and pumped it up once, reveling in the way he fit inside your palm.

You shifted your hips and nearly gasped when your bare clit rubbed against the rough fabric of his pants, stretched taut over the muscle of his thigh, and before you could stop yourself you began gently thrusting your hips forward, chasing more of that pleasurable friction.

Your actions pulled a small chuckle from Zoro, prompting you to flick your eyes up to his. With a boyish smirk that shouldn’t have been so hot Zoro asked, “are you gonna get off on my thigh while you suck me?”

“Maybe I will,” you shot back, suddenly wanting nothing more than to wipe that cool smirk of his face, to suck that nonchalant bravado straight into desperation — you leaned down and closed your lips around his tip, dipping your tongue into the slit and gathering up the salty pre beaded within before circling it with the flat of your tongue.

“Shit.” Zoro hissed, hips jerking upward and cramming more of his cock past your lips, the sudden and visceral reaction sending heat straight to your cunt. Zoro’s taste was heady and salty, settling on your tongue almost as heavy as his cock itself — and it was driving you crazy, the effects of his taste more powerful than an aphrodisiac.

You abandoned his tip in favor of swallowing down more of his cock, getting only to about halfway before meeting the resistance of your throat — his tip was already teasing the sensitive flesh of your tonsils, filling out your mouth and spreading a soreness over your jaws that was simply satisfying. You’d sucked others off before, and enjoyed it a decent amount, but with Zoro… you were starting to wonder why you hadn’t done it sooner.

You bobbed your head up and down, stroking what you couldn’t fit with your hand, twisting it every so often, which pulled the most delicious reactions from Zoro; his hips would twitch as if he was holding back from fucking into your throat, and his hand had drifted down not too long after you started, grabbing your hair and wrapping it into a ponytail with his fist, and now he was guiding your speed using the leverage.

“Fuuuck, that’s it… feels so good, baby…” Zoro breathed, cock twitching against your tongue as if confirming his statement physically. You moaned around his cock, pulling another sweet sounding sigh from his lips. Zoro’s words and moans acted as the perfect encouragement, pushing you to widen your lips and take him just a little deeper, pressing on until his tip parted your tonsils and slid down your throat.

But you underestimated the effect that would have on Zoro, and in the next instant you gagged around his thickness as Zoro tightened his hold on your hair and held your head in place as he shoved his hips up, pushing his cock further into your throat and completely cutting off your air supply. You retracted your hand from his cock and placed both of your palms flat on his hips, desperately trying to shove them down and pull yourself off of his cock. But Zoro held fast, and his hips continued to buck against your hold, pulling wet gags and coughs from your throat as it was repeatedly speared by his dick.

“Come on, baby, bear with it. I’ve been waiting so long. Lemme fuck your face for a bit.” Zoro growled out breathily, and the command acted as some sort of relaxant to your muscles as you stopped resisting immediately, pussy beginning to throb from the sensation of your throat being opened up by his thick cock.

“Yeah, baby, good girl. Such a good girl. Sucking me so good. Get it nice and wet, princess. Go ahead and fuck yourself on my thigh, too.”

With that, Zoro set a relentless pace with his hips, repeatedly pushing his tip past your tonsils and forcing you to take him nearly to the hilt with every thrust. It hurt, you couldn’t breathe, but it was so fucking hot, the sounds and feeling of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth sloppily conjuring multiple fantasies of it doing the same to your pussy, ravaging it and destroying it. Zoro was fucking your mouth so fast, so hard, you could only imagine how it would feel inside your cunt. Your hips began to grind in fast, short thrusts against his thigh, your wetness soaking into the fabric of his pants, clit absolutely singing from the friction.

“Fuck, fuck, okay, enough. Don’t wanna cum yet.” Zoro huffed from between clenched teeth, pulling his cock free from your mouth with a wet pop. You coughed and blinked back tears, flicking your eyes up to meet Zoro’s, a shiver running up your spine at the sheer abyss they reflected; Zoro looked absolutely wrecked, his tan skin flushed and lips shiny with spit, sweat beading his forehead, which was dotted with stray hairs slickened to his skin.

Zoro looked fucking amazing, and your pussy clenched around nothing. You wanted to see more of that expression, wanted to watch his face contort into pleasure as he lost himself in your tight virgin hole — you weren’t sure where that scared, nervous girl from before had went, but there wasn’t a single trace of her in you now, and it seemed that Zoro had picked up on that, too.

“Get your ass up here,” he rasped huskily, and you obeyed immediately, skin pimpling when the tip of his cock brushed along the span of your torso the whole way up. God, he was so fucking huge.

“You’re gonna ride me, baby. Does that sound good to you?” Zoro asked, and you nodded fervently. Honestly, any position would be amazing, so it didn’t really bother you either way. Zoro smirked up at you and gripped your hips the moment they were within reach, planting you down just below his cock, which stood straight up, the tip slapping right above your belly button.

Zoro’s eyes zeroed in on the sight, and he breathed a curse under his breath — it seemed that the visual was highly stimulating to him.

“Fuck, baby. How deep do you think you can take it?”

You glanced down as well, nerves fluttering briefly in your stomach as you took in the sheer size of his cock, the visual aid providing you with an example of just how far his dick could actually go — and it was just as scary as it was enticing. That monster would stir you up completely.

“Probably not all the way,” you answered honestly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and worrying it. You definitely wouldn’t be able to take it all the way right now, but later on down the road…

“We have all the time in the world for that, baby,” Zoro mused, as if reading your thoughts, cock twitching against your stomach. “But right now, I really need to be inside you.”

Your throat vibrated with a deep moan and you lifted yourself on to your knees, shuffling forward until your core was positioned directly above Zoro’s cock. The nerves were back again, but you swallowed them down and lowered yourself slowly, gasping when his tip parted your folds and pressed ever so slightly against your entrance.

Fuck, it’s a lot bigger than I thought.

You screwed your eyes shut and took a deep breath, holding it inside your lungs as you forced yourself lower. Even with the aid of spit and slick, the press was highly uncomfortable, Zoro’s cockhead feeling too impossibly big to actually fit, and tears pricked in your eyes at the pain blooming across your cunt.

Zoro’s hands tightened on your hips, stilling your descent and coaxing your eyes open.

“We don’t have to do it.” Zoro said, gently, eyes soft and face sewn with slight worry.

For a reason that was completely inexplicable to you, Zoro’s expression and words struck a chord of frustration inside you — because there was something else in his eyes, too, something that said he didn’t think you could do this, that you couldn’t take the pain; and, even more irritatingly, that you didn’t want this nearly as much as he did.

In lieu of a verbal answer you placed one of your palms on his firm chest to stabilize yourself, the other reaching back to grab hold of his shin, and in one swift movement you slammed your hips down.

That one action set off an explosive chain reaction — pain ripped through your entire lower half, clawing its way up until it reached your stomach, which seemed to collapse and twist in on itself; Zoro’s hands flew from your hips and one covered your mouth and absorbed your scream while the other gripped the plump flesh of your thigh; Zoro’s torso had curled up from the pallet so that he could reach your body easier, and the shift in position caused his cock to dig painfully into your walls, which only resulted in more yelps and whimpers into his palm.

“Fuck, baby, shit, why — why did you do that?” Zoro whispered breathily, voice caught between seething and desperate, teeth clenched tightly and brows furrowed — the lines in his face were wrought with barely contained pleasure that bled through the disbelief.

Tears pricked warmly at the corners of your eyes as you stared down at him defiantly, triumph and withdrawal both trying desperately to win dominance over your body. Pain was still radiating between your shaking legs, the spear currently impaled in your cunt stretching you in all ways and to degrees you never once thought possible — you’d only ever managed to have a finger inside you, and even that stretch was uncomfortable, straining against your hymen, bringing forth more discomfort than pleasure; and Zoro’s dick offered that tenfold.

But you’d taken it. Even though it burned, it hurt, even though it was still hurting, pain blooming across your abdomen in frenzied waves — you were finally connected with Zoro in the way you’d craved for the past week. Your relationship had finally been taken to the most intimate of levels, and it was absolutely euphoric. You shook Zoro’s hand away from your lips so you could speak.

“B-because there’s no point in taking it slow,” you gasped out, fingers digging red crescents into Zoro’s flesh. “It’s going to hurt either way, and I’d rather get past the pain and get to the good part sooner.”

Zoro’s torso collapsed back onto the pallet and his lips parted in a heavy sigh. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.” Zoro breathed, eyes glued to the ceiling and wide with shock — and something else that you couldn’t put your finger on, but it stirred your gut nonetheless with its appearance.

You felt so fucking full — it felt as though Zoro’s cock had shot straight into your stomach, and when you shifted your hips ever so slightly, you yelped out at the intense pain that shot through your abdomen.

“Baby, don’t move yet,” Zoro groaned out, his entire body tensing beneath you. “You haven’t gotten used to it yet.”

“Only one way to do that,” you smarted back, holding in a deep breath and gyrating your hips, swallowing back a scream at the intense pain. Zoro’s cockhead was pressing against your cervix heavily and relentlessly — it was so much to take, and you hadnt fully recovered from the shock of taking him all the way in one shot.

“Fuck, stop,” Zoro’s growled, and you obeyed immediately, much to Zoro’s visible delight. His hands met your hips once more, fingers digging into the flesh, and pain zipped up your body when he gently gyrated his hips, his tip completely rearranging your cervix’s position, and at your gasp of pain he stopped.

“This position is too much for you.” Zoro murmured, tapping the back of your hip with his finger. “Lay back and let me do it.”

Truthfully, you were more than happy to let Zoro take control; the weight of controlling the pace when you were in so much pain was proving to be quite heavy, and you trusted Zoro to make it feel good — he could do so way better than you could.

You began to rise, slowing your ascent when Zoro commanded you to, and your pussy fluttered at the sedated slide of Zoro’s thick cock against your walls. It was a strange sensation, not completely painful but not completely pleasurable either — but it was intense, and when Zoro’s cock slid out with a soft, wet pop, you found yourself craving more of that sensation.

Your legs shook when you clambered back and off of him, pain still radiating within your lower belly even though his cock was no longer buried inside, and the rough, flat surface of the floor beneath the pallet felt like heaven to your exhausted body when you laid flush atop it.

Zoro was quick to follow you, climbing up your body and sidling between your legs with a comfortable weight. You couldn’t help but feel that he fit so perfectly between your thighs, as if the space between them was created just for him.

“Wrap your legs around me, baby.” Zoro gently commanded, a hand moving up to help you lift your leg and position it around his waist when he noticed the slight sluggishness of your movements. You locked your ankles together at the small of his back without prompting, which earned you a delicious coo of “good girl.”

“Hold on to me baby, it’s still going to hurt.” Zoro whispered, his voice filled with somethig soft, and you brought your hands up to connect your fingers together behind his warm nape. Excitement was fluttering in your chest, heart beating thunderously and breaths quick and heavy — even the promise of pain couldn’t dull your anticipation, and when Zoro slid a hand down to line himself up with your entrance, it simply multiplied tenfold.

“Breathe.” Zoro commanded, and you did so, only for the air to be directly punched from your lungs when Zoro slid his cock in, your walls spreading impossibly wide from the intrusion and fresh waves of pain crashing into your belly. You knew your hymen had broken when you slammed him in, knew that the tender membrane was no longer intact, but somehow your pussy was still ripping as if it was, the sensation simultaneously painful and breathtaking.

“Breathe, baby, breathe.” Zoro cooed, his voice an anchor to cling to as your body threatened to be pulled beneath the waves of pain, and you pulled his head down to crash his lips into yours.

Zoro’s lips felt like tender slices of heaven, soft and wet, and when they moved against yours in gentle caresses you felt utterly complete. Zoro was inside you, you were wrapped around him, walls fluttering, your bodies connected in a physical deepening of your bond. It was everything; and you wanted everything and more.

“Move, Zoro, please,” you whispered between kisses, body and mind overrun by the desire to please Zoro, for Zoro to please you, for that connection to be taken to new heights. Zoro groaned heavily against your lips, and his mouth swallowed the soft whimpers that were pulled from your throat as he began to pump his hips slowly.

Every thrust brought immeasurable amounts of pain, but it was overrun by pleasure that originated from more than just the physical slide of his cock against your walls; it was addicting, euphoric in its agony, and you needed more.

As if innately sensing your desires, Zoro’s hips picked up speed, his cock now battering into you at a velocity that was near too much, but it felt so heavenly — it put you on the brink of breaking, on the brink of completely losing your mind.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” Zoro moaned hotly into your mouth, his hips stuttering ever so slightly, his hand reaching up to grope at one of your tits, which were still covered by the fabric of your bra. Your breath hitched at the combined stimulation of his cock splitting your walls and his fingers massaging your flesh, the eagerness behind the gentle touch throwing your brain into a frenzy.

“D-does it hurt you?” You asked tentatively, amazed at your own ability to actually form and speak life into a coherent thought, and your question pulled a deep, dry chuckle from Zoro’s throat.

“Gods, no, baby. It doesn’t hurt. It feels too good, actually.” There was something dark and promising within Zoro’s husky tone, and it sent pleasant trembles up your body. He sounded so wrecked, so fucked out, as if he was completely drowning in the sensation of your wet, sloppy pussy — and wasn’t that a wonderful thought?

“It feels g-good?” You whispered, wanting nothing more than to hear Zoro mutter those words again, to hear his verbal confirmation of how much your pussy was pleasing him, the desire so strong that it was nearly overpowering.

“So good, baby. Your pussy is sucking me in like it can’t get enough.” Zoro held no hesitation in responding, the tone of his voice slightly smug, as if he knew what his words were doing to you — and he probably did. Wet slaps and squelches ricocheted off the walls, your pussy practically screaming its approval of the abuse Zoro was hammering into it with his cock. Your moans were beginning to increase in volume; the pain had nearly completely dissipated, replaced by a satisfying sense of fullness and extreme pleasure. Zoro’s cock was able to hit every single good spot within your pussy, even the ones you had no idea existed; and the gentle bumps of his tip against your cervix were driving you absolutely delirious.

“It feels good f-for me, too.” You punched out between harsh thrusts, though part of you felt the verbal confirmation was unneeded; your moans were evidence enough, as was the increasing fluttering and tightening of your walls around his cock — the drag and slide of his cock was sloppy, aided by the slick your connection was pulling from your pussy. But it seemed as though Zoro appreciated the verbalization anyway, as his cock throbbed within your cunt, and a deep groan fell from his lips.

“Yeah? You like how my cock fills your pussy up?” Zoro murmured hotly, lips tracing down your cheek, your jaw, then attaching themselves to your neck, peppering it with wet, open mouthed kisses. Zoro’s words, thrusts, and attentions pulled a whiny moan from your throat, and you nodded vigorously. Slick gushed around the girth of his cock as his words went straight to your gut, pulling on the strings of that coil and tightening it.

“Fuck, yeah, you like it when I talk like that.” Zoro growled into your skin, the phrase not even a question, but you nodded your confirmation anyway. You really did like it, the way those words and filthy mutterings fell syrupy from his lips, the things they did to your body, the way they intensified the pleasure.

Zoro’s hips were moving at an inhuman speed now, drilling his cock ever faster inside your slick, sloppy cunt, and the sensation was absolutely mind blowing. Your orgasm was building quickly in your gut, effectively melting all coherency from your brain, reducing you to nothing but a moaning, trembling, drooling mess beneath Zoro.

“God, look at you baby. My cock is drivin’ you absolutely fuckin’ dumb. Shit, it feels like I’m corruptin’ you.”

Zoro’s voice was no more than a husky growl, words slurred and punctuated by harsh, pointed thrusts into your pussy, which squelched and twitched with every slide of his thick cock. It felt so fucking good, he was fucking you so good, so fast and hard, you were breaking —

“You’re gonna fuckin’ cum soon, aren’t you, baby? Do it. Fuckin’ do it on my cock, baby.”

You could only answer Zoro with a symphony of wanton moans, your legs tightening around his waist as he drove you into euphoria with his cock, so thick and long, hitting you in all the right places, rearranging your insides and driving you insane. His words were like hot brands in your ear, shooting fire straight through your veins and heating you from the inside out; you were close now, tip toeing on that precipice of complete, consuming pleasure.

“Z-Zoro, please,” you choked out, toes curling and back arching as his cock relentlessly abused your walls, your gut clenching from the build-up of pleasure. You let out a surprised squeal when Zoro’s teeth nicked the sensitive flesh of your neck; it was no more than a fleeting graze of his incisors, but when it was combined with his harsh thrusts and commanding sexual aura, it was nearly too much.

“‘Please’ what, baby? You want me to make you cum? Then beg me.” Zoro’s voice was blanketed with dark lust, commanding and so, so alluring – but frustration nipped at your body when Zoro’s hips slowed, driving his cock fully into you with each thrust, but not giving you anywhere near the pleasure or friction you needed for that coil to snap. Your orgasm receded like waves returning to the ocean, and you whimpered out in frustration.

“D-don’t stop, Zoro.” You pleaded, hands falling from his nape to scratch down the skin of his shoulder blades, pulling a hiss from his lips. His hips continued to simply grind slowly into you, and as if retaliating against you, he stopped thrusting completely, and his cock remained buried with your cunt as he rocked his hips forward. It felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough — not enough to send you over that brink. You needed Zoro to pound into you, to drive his thick cock into your sloppy cunt at inhuman velocity, to use you and break you and ruin you.

“Ask nicely, baby. Use your words, and beg me to make you cum.”

Something sharp and hot speared through your gut, and the authority in his words brought a rolling fog into your brain, and before you could comprehend anything you were digging your nails into his flesh and complying to his order.

“P-please, Zoro. Please, I need it. Please make me cum, sir. Please, I’ll be so good—”

“Shit,” Zoro muttered darkly, lifting his hand from your hip and sliding it beneath your head to bring your head up and bury it into the crook of his neck. His other arm slid into the space that your head had previously occupied on the pallet and his hips shifted, as if he were stabilizing himself.

“Hold on to me baby, I’m not stopping ‘til you cum all over my cock.” Zoro growled, shooting anticipation straight through your muscles and brain.

“Yes, yes, please—” you chanted, voice suddenly cut off by a loud moan when Zoro pulled all the way out, until only his tip remained inside your sopping walls, and then drove forward with a heavy thrust that sent your whole body jolting forward from the impact. Pain and pleasure bloomed across your abdomen as his tip roughly battered your swollen cervix; but Zoro didn’t give you any time to recover, as he repeated the same thrust over and over again at a rapid fire pace.

The flesh of your thighs stung from the harsh impact of his hips against them, and the harmony of slapping skin, squelching, moaning and grunts filled the bubble of heat around your bodies. Pleasure was building so fast within your gut that it was dizzying, your body approaching that high far quicker than you were fully prepared for. Each slide of Zoro’s thick cock within you brought stars to your vision, and your fingers scrabbled desperately along the skin of his back as you lost yourself in the sensation.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, yes, feels so good — d-don’t stop, please don’t stop, fuck me—” Zoro was panting heavily now, his own hips shaking and body dripping sweat, the physical exertion of fucking you into oblivion beginning to weigh on his muscles; but Zoro didn’t stop, nor did his pace falter, hips continuing to drill into you within inhuman speed, and before you could so much as give a verbal warning of your orgasm, it was crashing over you with the force of a tsunami.

“Cumming—” you gasped into Zoro’s neck, fingernails digging crescents into his shoulder blades as your entire body shook, waves of pleasure wrecking every nerve ending beneath your skin. Your cunt fluttered and twitched around Zoro’s cock as he continued to drive it into you, fucking you straight through your high as it crashed against you and slowly tapered out.

“That’s it, baby, so fuckin’ good. Good girl, such a fuckin’ good girl.” Zoro growled heavily, and you squealed when his thrusts grew harsher, fucking into your body at a rhythm that was far more feral than the previous. Your cunt squeezed tightly around him as the pleasure became far too intense, now bordering on painful. You whimpered into Zoro’s skin, which resulted in him shushing you.

“I know baby, fuck. Just bear with it a little longer — I’m so close now.”

You nodded and clutched at Zoro’s undulating body harder, taking deep breaths through your nose as your body was wracked with overstimulation with every thrust. Zoro’s balls slapped heavily against your ass as he pounded into you relentlessly, driving slick and wet squelches from your ruined pussy.

“Almost, fuck, almost. Gonna cum soon.” Zoro panted, hips stuttering and faltering, his cock twitching heavily against your walls, the sensation setting your nerves alight with anticipation. You wanted Zoro to cum, you wanted him to pump it into your pussy and fuck it deeper inside, until it was completely absorbed by your pliant body. You wanted him to mark you as his forever.

“Yes, yes, Zoro — cum in me, fill me up, please—”

“Fuck, here it comes — take all of it.” Zoro growled, thrusts momentarily growing even faster before the man above you stilled and released a guttural groan as his cock hardened inside you, twitching, throbbing, and you whimpered at the extreme heat that bloomed inside your walls in the next instant. That was Zoro’s cum, he was filling you up with it, fucking it back inside with short, hasty thrusts as he rode out his orgasm.

After what seemed like a lifetime of Zoro pumping hot cum inside your body he completely stilled, body trembling against yours ever so slightly as he sucked in lungfuls of air. You did the same, your pussy still twitching and throbbing from the aftermath of your own orgasm, milking out every last drop from Zoro’s softening cock.

“Fuck.” Zoro said with a dry chuckle, and you nodded with a slow-forming smile. Though he’d only said one word, you knew exactly what he was talking about; and you shared the sentiment wholly.

“That was amazing.” You whispered, dragging your lips affectionately across the sweaty skin of his shoulder. Zoro’s fingers scratched at your scalp and his chest vibrated against yours when he hummed.

“Yeah, it was. I can’t believe you let me take your virginity.”

“Why is that so hard to believe?” You asked quizzically, treading your fingertips over his shoulder blade with a featherlight touch.

“Dunno. Just never thought you’d want me to take it.” Zoro said with a subtle shrug, and you swallowed down a whimper when Zoro slowly pulled his cock out of you. It popped out with an embarrassing squelch, and you shivered as hot fluid dripped from your pussy to the sheets — they’d need to be thoroughly washed.

“Shit, we made a mess.” Zoro murmured as he guided your head back down to rest on the sheets, and you let out a breathy giggle.

“It’s fine. I like the mess.” You wisped, sending Zoro a lopsided, tired grin, which he returned. “Now get down here and hold me. I wanna cuddle.”

Zoro shook his head lightly at your antics but followed your command, rearranging himself until he was planted beside you. You habitually turned on your side and allowed Zoro to circle your waist with one of his arms, pulling you back until your backside was flush with his front. Your all-time favorite cuddle position.

Fatigue was hitting you like a raging bull, and you couldn’t stop your lips from splitting into a yawn or your eyelids from slipping close. Zoro planted a chaste, sweet kiss to the skin of your neck and whispered,

“Goodnight, baby.”

You twisted your head until you could reach his lips with your own, and you captured them into a slow, loving kiss. It lacked any heated or sensual passion, but it was full of tender love and adoration. Afterglow was amazing, you mused. You were happy, content, your body so satisfyingly achy and exhausted, and you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else at the moment.

Before you could fully drift off to sleep, you murmured, “of course I gave you my virginity. I love you more than anything.”

Slumber claimed before you could register Zoro’s response, but even in your sleep there was no mistaking the sentiment behind the way Zoro’s arm curled ever tighter around your stomach.

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auspicioustidings · 5 months

Text

Firewatch Part 9

Summary: Johnny and Kyle come to a realisation and you take a chance to escape.

Words: 2.3k

CW: Kidnapping

You had mostly expected to wake up in Price's arms, but you instead woke up to see him asleep in one of the armchairs. He was a big man, it was a little ridiculous to see him sleeping in a chair. You glanced out the window, it looked like it was maybe late afternoon.

Had Price stayed the whole time then? If he was going to stay why not climb into bed with you since that clearly seemed to be their play here? It kept you so off balance that none of them had… Well there were plenty of horror stories on the news for you to imagine. And they had kidnapped you. Four men had kidnapped you and had made it clear they at least wanted you. It was starting to sink in that at any time they could decide to have you and there wouldn't be much you could do about it. But they hadn't. The one time one of them hadn't backed off as soon as you asked there had been consequences for him.

You felt more rested if still exhausted, but it was enough to feel anger building again. It was infuriating that they weren't monsters. You didn't want them to be because the thought was terrifying, but at least then you'd know where you stood. At least then you could be solid in hating them rather than finding them to be the kind of men you would have liked to have known before this mess.

It was a temptation to just roll over and go back to sleep in some form of protest, but you resisted and got out of bed as quietly as you could. Price didn’t stir and for a moment you had the mad thought that you could sneak out the window. You still didn’t have shoes, but if you snuck out and they didn’t notice would it give you enough of a head start? Would you even be able to navigate the woods? There was a dirt trail for cars to come to and from, it must go the whole way to town if the police had visited. If you followed it, kept just in the treeline so you weren’t so easily found…

You were starting to drift towards the window in a bit of a trance, the only thing snapping you out of it was the sound of voices somewhere else in the cabin. You paused and focused in to listen.

“--love her anymore?”

“Come on Soap, you think the same.”

“...aye maybe. Naw really what we signed up for is she?”

“That’s it, better bury our girl out in the yard then.”

“Och I’ll miss her ye ken? Spent so long loving her.”

You’d take your chances in the woods.

–

“I think I might actually have a crush on her.”

Soap gave Gaz a look that belayed the fact he thought what had just come out of his mouth was utter nonsense. He was sat at the kitchen island, fingers rubbing the fabric of the blanket Ghost had stolen from your house. Dosia was grumpily headbutting Soap’s legs and then pretending she hadn’t now that nobody she actually liked was about to pay her any attention. He had originally tried to pet her and gotten hissed at, so now he was steadfastly pretending she wasn’t showing him any affection to make her feel better.

“Ye’ve been in love with her for a year and now ye have a crush?”

Gaz sighed and rested his head on his arm, staring at the fabric in his fingers. It was a blanket that didn’t seem like it belonged to you anymore. It had belonged to the girl he had loved that was true, but she had never existed had she? She was this delicate little thing, a pretty little dove he had wanted to keep on display and care for.

That was not the woman in the cabin with them. No, that woman was brash and swore and fought. She had fuck all manners when she ate and snorted when she laughed and was trying to pretend she hadn’t. She treated her cat like it was her baby. She wasn’t some innocent little lamb either, she was a great kisser and wasn’t shy about barking at him to shove his fingers in her. By all accounts, that woman was not someone he would ever think was one he would like.

It terrified him actually. You were real now and you were not what he thought, so why was it so easy for him to let that dream girl go? Why did he touch this blanket and not feel a damn thing after all that obsession? Instead there was another feeling bubbling up when he thought about you. He didn’t know if it was love, but then he was pretty sure what he had been feeling was never love in the first place. This new feeling was thrilling and fragile but he wanted to keep it.

“I like her. The real person. She’s sort of a pain in the arse but she’s fun.”

“The real person?”

“We really fucked it all up didn’t we?”

Soap sighed and leaned over the counter, head lolling into one hand while the other played with the edges of the blanket. The tangible object they had associated with you all this time. Or well, that they had associated with some imagined girl. They really had fucked it all up.

“So now ye just don’t love her anymore?”

“Come on Soap, you think the same.”

All things considered, he did. He smiled with a bittersweet fondness at the blanket, feeling like he was letting go of something.

“...aye maybe. Naw really what we signed up for is she?”

“That’s it, better bury our girl out in the yard then.”

The two looked at one another with a grin. It was a silly thing to bury a blanket. But it was what it represented that was important. It was burying an obsession with someone that wasn’t real, wasn’t a person. It was letting go of what they thought they had wanted and embracing what it was they had, because even after so short a span of time they had realised that what they had was so much better. It was real. You were real.

“Och I’ll miss her ye ken? Spent so long loving her.”

He shared a small smile with Gaz. Johnny didn’t know how to pick apart the flurry of emotions in him and figure out how he wanted this to end, he just knew he wanted to keep talking to you, learning about you. It was going to be a lot harder now to keep you here against your will now that he liked you as a real person, but he was nothing if not a selfish bastard.

They put the blanket lovingly aside, Johnny gave Dosia some scratches behind the ears which she duly pretended was not happening while purring and they got to work making a frankly irresponsible amount of brunch in the hopes they could get to your heart through your stomach.

–

It was a miracle Price hadn’t woken up. A small part of you knew it meant he was exhausted as well, that this was hard on him. Well his two men were already about to get rid of you and presumably start again with a nicer, more receptive girl. She probably enjoyed cooking and cleaning. Was probably going to be wonderful and submissive and would never yell at them. Johnny would never lose his temper with her. Simon would never wind up punished because he lost control with her. Would Price go and buy her favourite shampoo? Would she like tasting oranges from Kyle’s fingers? You had.

The “road” really wasn’t much of a road. It was painful to walk on in bare feet and you were hissing every time you landed on a particularly sharp stone. You saw there was a pick up truck and considered stealing it, but you didn’t want to go searching for the keys knowing it increased the likelihood of you getting caught. When you glanced in just to make sure they weren’t in the car you saw it was a stick shift. Well that idea was out, you had learned on an automatic and would absolutely stall loudly if you tried to drive this thing.

So you were walking. Not running because you would absolutely wind up with a broken ankle and then you were really screwed. You could grit your teeth through it. Your mind drifted to what the hell you would say when you emerged. If you told the police the truth then all four of them were going to jail. If you lied then they would be free to take you again. Christ you felt bad enough about Simon being banished to the tower, could you handle all of them being put in a cell?

God it was sweltering, a stark comparison to how cold it had been last night. You had to take off the hoodie and tie it off around your waist. Maybe you should tear it apart to wrap around your feet? But then what happened when the sun set and the cold came in. You hoped you would be out of the woods by then. This place would be terrifying in the dark.

You stayed just off the road in the treeline, hoping that it would make it tricky to spot you from the tower if you were under the trees. At some point you stopped taking breaks fearing that if you stopped again you would not be able to get up. Your feet hurt, you were thirsty and hot and hungry. You wanted to curl up with your damn cat. It was with a dose of self-loathing that you realised you wanted to laugh with Kyle when she was mean to Johnny.

When you heard the distant rumble of the truck you moved further from the road, waiting for the sound to pass. They knew you were gone then. Were doing the most obvious thing first and going down the road to see if you were on it. You were far enough in the trees that you couldn’t see the road anymore. You hadn’t thought you had went that far, maybe only a few minutes, but you were turned around. You turned, trying to figure out which direction the road was with a mounting sense of panic.

Fuck. Idiot! You had seen the stories about what happened to people who went off the trail this far in the forest. It was fine near the edge where your cottage had been, where there were little walking trails (although admittedly the first few times you had ventured out you hadn’t spotted them), but this far out? You knew that they always said you should stay where you are, wait for someone to come and find you. Except they had no way of knowing which part of the road you had left from.

At least if you died it’d be on your own terms you tried to rationalise. They were going to kill you, but you had no guarantee they wouldn’t brutalise you first, so maybe wandering out never to be seen again was better. Just because your heart stupidly told you they were good people didn’t mean they were. You hoped they kept Dosia at least, they seemed fond enough of her.

You were angry at the tears welling up, knowing that you couldn’t really afford to lose any hydration. There was a sudden bitter regret for making fun of those survivalist shows. You should have paid attention. Were you supposed to try get to high ground? No, you should find water. Did you just pick the direction that was your best guess to get to the road? You’d be able to see the stars when the sun fully set, and the brightest would be North you thought. Didn’t much help knowing North because you could not visualise a map.

Your feet were so sore now. You sat against a tree, the discomfort of sitting on the ground vastly outweighed by the relief of getting weight off of your feet. You didn’t want to look and see how bad it was so you ignored it. You just let your head fall back against the tree trunk and closed your eyes, imagining you were back home. If the men that had kidnapped you were in your little imagining it was not something you would ever admit out loud.

–

Simon Riley did another rotation. Price had called it in an hour ago and ordered him to keep a watch for you while they searched on the ground. Fuck he was so mad at you, what were you thinking? When they got you back he was going to cuff you to the fucking bed anytime they left you alone. Night was falling, the temperature was dropping.

“Come on sweetheart, give me something” he mumbled, looking for any sign from the trees.

You would never have made it on foot even if you had taken the road, not without shoes, not so late in the day. It got dark out here, so dark you could barely tell where you were going without a torch. What the fuck had happened while he was gone? He trusted his team, he couldn’t entertain the idea that they might have been so cruel to you that you thought dying out there was better.

It was another 8 hours until there was finally an update from Price over the radio.

“Found her. Get home Simon, she’s in a bad way.”

#mhairiwrites #cod au #fanfic #tf 141 x reader #not the direction I thought this was going when I started writing this chapter this morning #and yet here we are

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cnwolf-brainrot · 1 day

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Y’all have no idea how important this is to me.

Rogue is a character who constantly has to hold on. She’s had to hold on to her control and hold herself back for pretty much her entire life. She can’t touch another person, which means she constantly has to hold back, to keep herself in check, to grasp tight to anything that makes her even a little bit “human” less she be deemed nothing but a monster. This episode is all about Rogue letting go. Letting go of her control, letting go of her morals, letting go — or failing to let go — of Remy… she finally cuts loose, and we see how powerful she is. We see how cut-throat she can be. We see how much she feels, how much she fears, how much she grieves. But this… this moment? When she finally feels the grief through the rage? We see her drop her final defenses, and when she lets go she falls. She completely falls into this embrace and she presses into it. Rogue has spent her entire life holding back from touch, so to sink so fully into a hug like this shows just how far gone she is. This isn’t a quick hug where she’s making sure to keep a layer of clothing between skin contact. This is a full-body embrace with no care for anything but contact and comfort, two things that have been denied Rogue for so long.

This episode tore Rogue down to the deepest parts of herself and forced her to let go, and when she did Kurt and the other X-Men were there to catch her.

also it just makes me really happy to actually see Kurt and Rogue’s relationship acknowledged on screen, they are one of my favorite pairs of siblings in media and seeing them like this is extremely important to me.

#x men #xmen 97 #xmen #Rogue #kurt wagner #anna marie #x men rambles #Xmen analysis

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year

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entangled

a/n: you asked for it and here it is! some fucking hentai level smut

warnings: devil!Eddie Munson x reader x angel!Steve Harrington, smut, tentacle sex, kissing, oral, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, anal penetration, double penetration, squirting, creampie, impact play, choking, multiple orgasms, bondage (but like with their tentacles...)

word count: 2918

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | devil & angel AU masterlist

Kneeling at the foot of your bed, you blissfully closed your eyes as both of the towering creatures in front of you tapped their heavy dicks upon your presenting tongue and spit-covered cheeks. Gently lulling your head from side to side, you gave each of them little kitten licks and sloppy kisses, squeezing your thighs together as your arousal flowed just as freely as your saliva dripping down their lengths.

At your next light peck to Eddie's tip, he bucked forward and caused your eyes to momentarily go wide at the sudden mouthful. “Look at me, sweetheart,” and your bright eyes found his dark ones, “that’s it,” he growled as he then proceeded to feed you more of his girth than you thought possible. As he came to tickle the beginning of your throat with shallow but confident thrusts, you felt your body tense and your head instinctually reeled back from the nauseating sensation, but even as you tried, your head just wouldn’t move back, something at the base of your skull was preventing it to.

Gagging lightly as you glanced down to realise that it wasn’t any of the men’s hands that had, without you noticing, fastened in your hair, them clearly being glued on the bases of their lengths and therefore not the source.

“Fuck, your throat feels so fucking good when you make that sound,” you heard, your hands shooting up to the devil's hips as he rocked deep enough down your throat for the imprint to be seen from the outside.

Borderline slapping him pleadingly on his meaty thighs, the sudden exclamation from Steve, “stop it!” somehow caused the hold on you to disappear enough for you to tumble back. Heaving and panting, you blinked your watery eyes up to witness the blissed-out, curly-haired man being yanked back by some unknown force your blurry vision could not yet detect, “seriously, Munson? I told you not to pull that shit.”

“Oh, come on, man,” Eddie chuckled, seemingly restrained against the far side wall, “lighten up, I was just helping her along.”

“We talked about this,” your vision gradually cleared up and what you first thought was just your tearful eyes playing tricks on you turned out to be something that made you swap out your visceral coughs for an audible gasp, “don’t just spring that shit on her without at least a warning first.”

“Um, guys?” you stared at the translucent robes that shimmered around Eddie’s form, “what-… what is that?”

At the sound of your small voice, Steve’s face dropped any sign of anger and glanced back at you, the hold around Eddie suddenly dropping, causing him to sink back down to his feet. “It’s-, um…” he tried, as you slowly peeked down to see long tendrils, black as tare, retract down your back and slither against the mattress around you. It was like a monster, creeping out from under the bed, just slowly sliding around you like snakes. “It’s okay, it’s alright,” Steve rushed towards you and picked up your shocked expression in his hands, “it’s just us.”

“What?”

“It’s-, um, th-that’s us,” he stumbled, worried that you might let out a scream in terror.

“…that’s you?” you felt Steve pick up your hand as you looked around at the strange tendrils and came to rest your eyes upon Eddie.

A black and glossy length bigger than any of the ones around you appeared not too far from the cocky devil as he flashed you a soft smile, “that’s me,” and the tentacle unexpectedly offered you a small wave, making it impossible for you to stop the small giggle the bubbled out your slightly sore throat, “but the sneaky ones there is Steve,” he grumbled and gestured to the almost invisible ones that twinkled with the purest of gold and silver, still slightly on guard behind him.

“Hey,” Steve shot back at Eddie as his tendrils began to swirl into witty shapes, “cut it out.”

“Oh, come on, just look at her,” he chuckled, not slowing down, “she loves it.”

He wasn’t completely wrong there. Glancing back at you, Steve caught sight of your slowly blooming smile.

Gently summoning one right beside him, seemingly making it slink down from the lightbulb glowing above you, Steve checked, “do you, sweetheart?” as you carefully reached out to touch the see-through slither, the sparkles within it brightening around your fingertip’s touch, “it’s okay if you don’t.”

With the smile upon your lips not dimming one bit, Eddie strolled back towards you and commented crudely, “of course you fucking do,” his amusement rubbing off on you, “should have known a little slut like you would be into this.”

With both back at your side, your vision drifted back down towards their throbbing cocks and you felt the angel let go you’re your hand. Glancing back up at them, you wordlessly parted your lips and stuck your shiny tongue out just enough for them to get the message.

With a light chuckle, you smiled as Steve gave his dick a few short pumps before getting a bit closer, letting you travel the rest of the way before your swollen lips were stretched around his girth. As you lifted one of your hands up to aid in your efforts on his generous length, it was quickly swatted away by his own gentle fingers, “no hands, sweetheart, please, I just wanna feel that hot little mouth of yours,” eyes crinkling up as you smiled around his girth, you bobbed your head gently.

Slipping off his tip with a pop, you ran your tongue down the side, glancing up at him as you traced the prominent veins. Out of pure instinct, you lifted your fingers once more, but just as they came into contact with his heavy sack, one of his glistening tendrils wrapped itself around your wrist and yanked it down.

“I said no hands,” he repeated, cocking his head in light-hearted warning, “not on me, not on Eddie.”

“Honey,” one of Eddie’s black lengths slithered around your other wrist as he jerked his leaking cock inches away from your face, “there would be no doubt in your mind if we wanted you to simply jerk us off because your little hands would go completely numb from how hard we’d have you grip us.”

Lapping another gentle lick to Steve’s tip, Eddie’s thumb came to press your chin down, parting your lips further, “open wide, sweetie,” as he nudged himself up beside his partner, his bulbous head breaching your soft lips at the same time as Steve’s did, both of them prodding your tongue, though the addition of a flickering length teasing your tingling clit soon made it difficult to do anything other than moan against them.

Glancing at each other, the guys then gave each other a small nod and silently agreed on a move that made you lose your breath completely. Feeling a cluster of both of their tentacles snake around you more and more, wrapping you up and caging you in like a comforting vest surrounding your bosom, a few also swirling around your clenching thighs before your world was suddenly flipped on its head. A sharp yelp was pushed out of your lungs as you tried to orientate your new perspective, your body now lifted off the bed and suspended upside down with your thighs spread wide.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, an amazed chuckle seeping out as well.

Landing a sharp slap to your glistening folds, you heard Eddie whisper, “you shut the fuck up,” the adoration clear in his hushed tone as one of his inky lengths soared down to stuff your mouth full, successfully muffling your moans.

Craning your head to look at more than just their legs, you watched as Eddie moved to stand behind you, his touch never leaving your skin.

“Look at that,” Steve’s fingers came up to pinch your puffy lips together, rolling your clit within the hold, “so fucking pretty,” he let go with another small tap.

Gliding a finger through your soaked petals, Steve slowly sank one into your quivering hole, only managing to bury half of his digit before another one slid in beside it, though it wasn’t another one of his own, it was Eddie’s, the devil being too greedy not to feel your warmth himself now that you were essentially spread out on a silver platter for him.

“Shit,” Eddie breathed as you felt their prodding fingers retract, though your centre didn’t stay bare for long as the devil then bowed down for a taste, sucking in your clit like it was a sour candy and releasing it again with a pop. Both of his palms were spread out on your ass, one on each cheek, smacking it as he enjoyed the way your abundant wetness trickled down even there, “barely even begun and look what a mess you’ve already made…” he purred as your knees came up to bend a bit more, your heels briefly resting upon his shoulders till he straightened back up.

What you then briefly mistook as their curious fingers spreading you apart was actually a few of Steve’s smaller iridescent strands pulling your folds to either side, “she’s so perfect,” a dollop of his spit landed in the glistening valley and quickly pulled down to mix in with your own juices, “crying out for us like that,” he slapped your clit again, then kept his palm on you like a magnet, sliding it down, “begging us to stretch you out till you fucking pass out,” you whimpered around the dark girth as he plunged a finger not only into your pussy, but also extended a long one down to press against you little rosebud, feverishly rocking into both your holes and making his fingers kiss through the thin wall inside of you.

“We are gonna fucking destroy you, sweetheart,” Eddie kissed your inner thigh sloppily as Steve’s fingers stopped their hungry examination.

Barely even registering as the black tendril was suddenly ripped out of your mouth and the rest of them swiftly flipped you around once again, leaving you a swaying mess as the blood rush back down from your head.

“Fuck,” you panted, dizzily blinking up at Steve as you saw Eddie in your periphery kiss your flush cheek.

“I have a question for you, baby,” Steve asked as he raised one of his twinkling treads up to brush the hair out of your face, “do you want these?” you watched as his fingers danced down your body, dragging down over the many contrasting tentacles woven around your body like a lattice cage and similar to a marionette doll keeping you up, “or do you want us?” his travelling hand left your body completely and grasped the base of his cock, wagging the stiffness playfully near your exposed cunt.

Genuinely torn, you mumbled, “I, um, I…” wanting both so badly that your whole body shook.

“Tick tock, tick tock,” Eddie pressed his cheek against your own as he slid his palms over your waist, “what’s it gonna be?” his own hardness rolled against your lower back.

“You-, you!” you blurted out through your haze, “I want you!”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckled directly in your ear, “they aren’t a one-time offer, we’ll make sure to have some fun another day…”

Rotating your head to gaze at him, it didn’t take more than a single shared breath before his mouth was on yours, tongue messily dancing against your own as your thighs soon jumped slightly from the much-anticipated pleasure of the bulbous head of Steve’s dick parting your sobbing petals and nudging against your buzzing clit till you were crying out against Eddie’s tongue.

Absconding from the sticky kiss, your head fell back against the devil’s shoulder and your eyes fluttered shut, “please,” you whimpered.

“Please what, sweetheart?” Steve tapped his heavy cock rudely against your folds, causing your restrained hips to buck up in search of more, “what do you want me to do, huh?”

Feeling Eddie’s hands glide up to fondle your tits, harshly tugging at your nipples, you pouted, “you know w-what, please stop teasing.”

“Oh, you don’t like it when I tease?” he laughed, “since when did that happen?”

“P-please,” you nearly sobbed, feeling yourself nearing the edge already, “please, please, please.”

“You gonna be a good girl for us?” Eddie whispered in your ear, “not complain and trust that we got you?”

“Y-yes,” your voice shook from the intensity as you felt Steve press his lips against yours, muffling your moans as he slowly pressed into you, not stopping till you were filled to the brim.

“That’s it,” he pulled back, a string of saliva still connecting you, “there she is,” he commented on the way your eyes rolled back from the force of his building rhythm, “there’s our girl. That’s what you wanted, huh?”

But your answer didn’t come in the form of words as a trembling orgasm washed over you.

“You know what, Steve? I think it was,” Eddie chuckled, kissing your blissed-out form as he willed your still-bound hands to meet each other over your bottom, conveniently right where his twitching length was grinding into you, leading him to instead begin to fuck into your relaxed fists.

Rolling his hips into you, slowly clawing you back from that cloud you had briefly floated away on, you heard Steve grunt, “Munson,” feeling your ass magically spread apart, “get in there, yeah?” one of his glistening tendrils flicked against your rosebud.

“Yeah? You sure she’s up for that today?” he teased.

“Please,” the angel chuckled, pressing a few of his thin lengths into your empty hole, “just listen to how fucking wet she is, should be easy enough.”

You moaned, squeezing Eddie’s cock in want as the glimmering tendrils found the same pace as Steve’s dick, though also gradually opening you up in a presentational fashion for the devil to come a-knocking.

“You wanna be filled up, sweetheart?” you felt Eddie add one of his own to the party.

“Do it, please, I’m ready,” you blubbered through your enchanting moans, “I’m ready, I’m-”

And with that, your hasty words morphed into a breathy cry as Eddie in one swift motion slid out of your grasp, sufficiently retracted the tendrils, and buried his tip into your ass.

“F-fuck,” he shuttered, growling in the crook of your neck, “you feel so good,” he slowly started giving you more, ever so gradually working you up to his full length.

Just like a puppet strung in between the two creatures, you were at their complete and total command, just the slightest tug of a string and you were arranged exactly how they wanted you.

Glancing down at how your pussy was gripping onto Steve’s fat girth and staining his base with a ring of your desperate cream, you heard Eddie’s ragged voice find your ear once more, “you sure you don’t want us to stretch you out even more?” one of his black tendrils snaked up your body and slithered around your neck, “sneak some more of us into you? You wanna be stuffed to the brim, huh?” his palm found your cheek with a few sharp taps, “filled up so much you start crying? Or is this already too much for you?”

“Too much, too much!” you gasped, still feeling his handprint on your blissed-out cheek.

“Oh yeah, you sure about that?” Steve chimed in, locking his hazy eyes with your own, “because I think you can take it,” his fingers dug into your sides as he attempted to persuade you, “for me, you can,” his own fast-approaching end reading clear in his fuzzy expression.

“No, no, no, no, no, I can’t!” the words flowed out of you like running water, “you-, you’re-, fuck, you’re so fucking deep! I-, I can’t take any more than this!”

“Yet,” you could hear the smirk on Eddie’s lips, “you can’t take any more yet,” a translucent length slithering around to flick your clit rudely, although when lowered your vision you look at where all three of you met, you saw the tentacle swell and grow, no longer just tickling your sensitive pearl, but pressing down and rubbing it so hard your legs began to shake.

When the angel then gutturally emptied himself within you, you were nearly too gone yourself to notice, screaming out in protest as you felt his hard pace slow down, “keep going! Don’t stop! Please!”

If your hands hadn’t been restrained you would have surely yanked him back in as he pulled himself out of your squelching pussy, a small spurt of your blissful rain chasing after his cock.

“Don’t worry,” Steve nearly laughed at your desperation as he swiftly replaced his dick with another glistening tendril, the angle it drove at forcing more liquid to squirt out, showering the entity in front of you with your euphoric juices, “I’ve got you, honey,” he smiled as your body convulsed before him, spilling everything you had as Eddie bit down on your shoulder harshly and likewise tumbled over the same edge.

“That’s our girl,” you peeked open your dazed eyes to see Steve kneeling in front of you, “look at that, baby,” he admired as Eddie took a step back, letting his softening cock slip out of your twitching hole, “look at how much you came,” you glanced down at the collective juices dripping out of your swollen centre, “made such a fucking mess for us.”

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creamsickle-writes · 2 years

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A Satisfactory Alternative: Monster Trio x F!Reader

Tags: oral sex, double penetration, and anal sex

Just to clarify: this fic is a sequel to my other fic Hole in the Wall! Please read that first for context, thank you!

“I… Yeah. It was me.”

As the three men look at you from across the table, it’s all you can say. You lower your head shamefully as they stare at you slack-jawed. The only one who wasn’t surprised was the one who made the accusation in the first place.

“I told you guys!”

“Shut up, Luffy,” Sanji says, his jaw set.

You swallow as all eyes are on you. You don’t know what to say or if there was anything to say.

“You little slut.”

You snap your head up to see Zoro smirking, his eye focused on you as he folds his arms across his chest. Sanji is instantly furious.

“Don’t talk to her like that!”

“Not saying it’s a bad thing.” Zoro shrugs, “I’m just saying… maybe we don’t need to dock here all the time for you to get your needs met.”

Sanji’s eyes widen as he understands what Zoro is implying.

Sanji adds, “You don’t have to do this, you know. I won’t tell anyone about what happened.”

You glance up at Sanji appreciatively before your eyes dart towards Zoro and Luffy. Zoro sat back, a self-assured grin on his face, but Luffy seemed unreadable. You are uncharacteristically sheepish as you look down at your lap before flickering your eyes back up at them.

“I… wouldn’t mind… doing it for you guys again.”

As you said so, Luffy’s eyes sparkled, “So we can get blowjobs all the time now?!”

“Not all the time, idiot!” Sanji hisses, “You have to be considerate of what she wants and when she wants to give it to you!”

Your lips curl into a gentle smile, and Zoro lets out a low growl as he stands up from the table, slowly making his way toward you. You’re taken aback when he gives the command: “Stand.”

You’re awkwardly shuffling to your feet, standing before him, your eyes looking at his boots. Though, Zoro takes your face into his hands, making you stare up at him. You squeal as he leans forward, his lips making contact with yours. Your head feels dizzy as Zoro kisses you, his lips smashing against yours. You weren’t used to being kissed so forcefully. Your hands freeze in the air, unsure of where they need to be placed.

“That’s not how you kiss a lady, dumbass!”

“She’s not a lady,” Zoro murmurs as he pulls away, “She’s a whore, isn’t that right?”

“Hah,” you pant out, still breathless from the rough kiss, “Yes, I’m a whore for you all.”

Sanji lets out a frustrated groan from his seat at the table, and he’s the next one on the move, slamming his chair behind him.

“If that’s how she wants to be talked to,” Sanji starts, shrugging off his jacket and loosening his tie, “Then who am I to deny her?”

Luffy gets up from his seat as well and makes his way over to you, his cheeks pink.

“Are you going to make me feel good again?” Luffy asks, and you smile softly before responding.

“Yes, of course, Captain.”

You sink to your knees, the three of them surrounding you. You swallowed nervously; it would be much more challenging to manage them all like this simultaneously.

Your mouth began to salivate as you heard the sounds of belts unbuckling and zippers coming undone. As they all spring out of their confines, they’re all at varying hardness levels. Luffy is the softest, followed by Zoro, who is half erect. Sanji isn’t soft at all; he is as hard as a rock.

You giggle, and you notice Sanji freeze up at that. You focus your attention on him, stroking his cock first.

“Shit, those soft hands again…” Sanji moans, raking his hand through your hair.

You look up at Sanji, and he groans, “That cute expression… I wish I could’ve seen it earlier too.”

You hear wet noises to your left, and you peek next to you, watching as Zoro begins stroking his own cock. “Don’t forget about us too.”

You take Zoro’s cock in hand as you stroke Sanji’s. Both men let out a low groan as you pleasure them. Your face grows hot as you look up at them both. You had never done something like this before, but it was something you fantasized about. Now that it was coming true, you just hoped that you could please them all.

“What about me?” Comes a whine.

You look over to see your captain, his cock now painfully erect. You smile softly, “I only have so many hands, Captain.”

He wails again, and Zoro offers a solution, “Suck me off and then touch them.”

You release Zoro’s cock and instead take your captain’s in hand. The dark-haired man groaned at your touch and impatiently bucked his hips in your grasp. You lean forward, dragging your tongue over Zoro’s head as your other hand busies itself with Sanji’s shaft.

“God,” Sanji moans, “It’s so hot watching you…”

You look up at Zoro before you lean forward even further, sinking your head down onto his cock. The man before you groans lowly, and you begin bobbing your head.

“Look at you.” Zoro grunts, “Pleasing three cocks at once. And you want to say you’re not a slut?”

You moan around his shaft, drool escaping the corners of your mouth as you swallow him down. You swirl your tongue around his head every time you reach it before placing it back at the bottom of your mouth when you go deep.

“Me next!” Luffy cries, “I want a blowjob too!”

You pull off Zoro’s cock, and your hand stops stroking Sanji. You instead direct your attention to Luffy and stroke him a few times, “Okay, okay, you big baby.”

“I’m not a-!” He’s interrupted by his own moan as you take him into your mouth, wasting no time as you hollow your cheeks and take him halfway. You keep stroking Zoro as you suck off your captain; it’s easier to stroke him now as your spit is coating his length.

You look up at Luffy, but his eyes are closed as he experiences your throat. You want to laugh. He’s so adorable.

You hear another wet noise in the background, and you can only assume it’s Sanji massaging his own dick. You felt bad, so you reached around for Sanji’s cock again, stroking at a moderate pace.

With that, you press on, taking Luffy down as far as possible. He moans and reaches for your hair, grabbing it and dragging your head until your nose hits his pelvis. You choke a bit, and Sanji quickly comes to your defense, “You’re gonna hurt her, idiot!”

“Oops.”

Luffy releases your head, and you pull off for a moment, coughing as you try to catch your breath.

“Here, lovely girl…” Sanji coos, his voice guiding you to him, “I promise I won’t be rough with you.”

You stick your tongue out, and he gently slides his head over it. You then encapsulate the head between your lips and suck softly. He lets out a soft groan as he rakes his fingers through your hair. His hips still, allowing you to take only as much as you want.

Rewarding his kindness, you push through, taking him to the base. He hisses and tosses his head back. You reach for Zoro’s and Luffy’s shafts and begin stroking.

Zoro chuckles, “You leave her to do what she wants, and she takes the whole dick down anyway. She’s insatiable.”

You hum and continue moving your mouth along Sanji’s shaft. It was true what Zoro had said. You wanted more, no, you needed more as you felt arousal build up in your core. Having these men surround you made you feel desperate. You wanted their dicks in places other than your mouth…

You pop off of Sanji and remove your hand from Zoro’s shaft to reach over and stroke the chef. With your best babydoll eyes, you look up at Sanji, Zoro, and Luffy, “I want more.”

Their stares grow hungry as they look you over.

“Be specific. What do you want?” It’s Zoro who speaks and leans down, tilting your chin upwards, so you’re looking at him.

“I want you all to fuck me.”

The men are suddenly eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat, and suddenly, Zoro is dragging you upwards by the arm. You stand, and he’s quick to rip off your top, your breasts spilling out. Sanji openly ogles you and walks behind you, reaching for your breasts and molding them with his hands. You tilt your head back, resting your head against his chest as he touches you.

“Feels good, Sanji…” You sigh as the chef begins pinching and rolling your nipples between his dexterous fingers.

“Don’t hog her!” Luffy whines, and Sanji quickly lets you go, instead opting to move the plates from dinner. As Sanji goes back and forth between the kitchen, Zoro is tugging your skirt off. You step out of it, leaving you only clad in your panties.

“Hey, cook.” Zoro calls, “Get some oil from the kitchen.”

“What do we need that for?” Luffy tilts his head.

Zoro smirks, “For lube.”

You bite your lip as Sanji returns from the kitchen, olive oil in hand, a knowing smile on his face.

“Who do you want to prep you?” Sanji asks, and you look between all three men. Zoro would be too rough, and Luffy probably wouldn’t be thorough enough as he seemed impatient. You look up at Sanji, and he gets the message loud and clear.

“Lay down on the table, princess.” Sanji coos, and you listen, situating yourself on the now clear table. As you do so, Sanji is pouring the olive oil onto his fingers, coating them evenly.

Zoro is greedily grabbing your breast, molding it in his hands as Sanji presses his fingers against your puckered hole. You hiss when he pushes in, the sensation feeling odd and slightly painful.

“I know, darling…” Sanji shushes you, pressing kisses over your stomach.

Meanwhile, Luffy sits on the table next to you, his fingers traveling down to your slit. He rubs experimentally, and you can tell he’s not quite sure where to touch.

“Hrm…” Luffy hums, clumsily moving his fingers over your slit.

“What’s wrong, Luffy?” Zoro asks, positioning himself on your other side.

“Trying to find that little button…” Luffy sticks his tongue out as he concentrates, causing Zoro to chuckle. The swordsman takes his captain’s fingers, situating them atop your swollen clit. You gasp out instinctively.

“Ah, there it is!” Luffy turns to face the swordsman, “Thanks, Zoro!”

You arch your hips into Luffy’s fingers as he quickly swipes his digits back and forth. Your toes curl at the feeling. As Luffy is pleasuring you, Sanji’s fingers get to work, spreading themselves to stretch your hole. It felt strange, but Luffy’s intense rubbing helped distract you. As the two men took care of your holes, Zoro watched on, his fingers pulling at one of your nipples. You felt overstimulated; this was too much!

Before your orgasm can build up within you, Sanji pulls his fingers out of your hole.

“Seems like you’ve been stretched well enough.” He comments, pulling away from your body, “So, how do you want to do this, princess?”

Luffy and Zoro’s fingers stop their actions, and all three men look at you. You bite your lip, “I want two of you inside at once. Maybe you and Zoro?”

Luffy whines again, “What about me?”

You smile, “I’ll give you one of those blowjobs you seem to love so much.”

Luffy’s whining turns to pure excitement, and you can’t help but laugh at his one-track mind. After some shuffling between you four, you were in position. Zoro was behind you, holding you up as Sanji was in front, rubbing his cock across your folds. Meanwhile, Luffy was standing on the table, something that would’ve pissed Sanji off if it weren’t for the current circumstances, his cock teasingly close to your lips.

“I’ll go in first,” Zoro announces, his cock lubed up with the olive oil. He presses in, and your eyes prick with tears as he stretches your hole. It feels strange as his head burrows deeper, his shaft shaping your hole. Sanji doesn’t press in just yet as he waits for you to grow accustomed to Zoro first.

After some time, the awkward feeling begins to subside, and Zoro’s shaft suddenly feels familiar. You rock your hips experimentally, taking it all in.

“You’ll want to get in on this, cook.” Zoro rumbles behind you, “She’s plenty tight.”

Sanji licks his lips before glancing at you, “May I?”

You nod, and he slides in slowly, pressing in inch by inch. You moan openly as his slender cock brushes up against your front wall, teasing your g-spot. When he sinks in completely, you toss your head back, gasping. His swollen head ground against your cervix, and your toes tingled.

“Feels so good…” Sanji moans, bowing his head forwards as he begins thrusting his hips, “Your pussy feels like Heaven, darling.”

As the two men began rocking their hips in and out of you, a pleasure you had never felt began to blossom inside you. Your chest grew tight, and your breath had escaped you.

“Me now!” Luffy grins, taking his cock in hand and directing it towards your lips. You extend your tongue, and he rests his swollen head on it, rocking his hips back and forth. He’s more gentle this time, having learned from Sanji’s scolding.

You encased your lips around the tip, suckling gently on it. Luffy’s raspy groans filled your ears, accompanied by the slapping of hips against you from below. You shut your eyes tight, focusing on the sensation of touch and sound rather than sight. You could feel it all, Luffy’s hands in your hair, Zoro’s hands on your hips, Sanji’s labored breathing as he fucked you- it all excited you.

“So good-!” Luffy groans as he begins rocking his hips in and out of your mouth.

He moves your head with his hands, guiding you along his shaft. Your mouth salivates, drool dripping past the corners of your mouth.

“Good girl,” Zoro praises, his hands pushing back your hair.

Your head begins to spin as each of your holes are filled and used for their pleasure. Sanji’s hips start to speed up to the point where he’s pounding your pussy into mush. Zoro follows suit, hammering in and out of you at the same pace. Your mind went blank as when Zoro went out, Sanji went in. And that’s not even taking into account what Luffy was doing to your mouth.

As the three used you, you felt your body begin to float. Electricity shot through your body, your toes curling and your eyes fluttering shut.

“Don’t think I’ll last long, princess-“ Sanji moans, tossing his head back, “You feel too good!”

“Can we cum inside?” Zoro growls in your ear. You pull off of Luffy’s cock for just a moment.

“Yes, please-“

Sanji bites his lip, his hips suddenly moving at a frantic, uneven pace. Zoro’s hands grip your waist even tighter, his fingertips leaving bruises in their wake.

Sanji is the first to burst, his cum flooding your insides. The feeling pushes you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a speeding train. You gasp for air as you gush around Sanji’s throbbing shaft. He pulls out of you, a trail of slick connecting you to him.

Zoro is next to cum. It feels like he pumps you even fuller than Sanji does. When he pulls out of your pussy, you can feel the fluids leaking out of you.

All that was left was Luffy, and with the way he was moving his hips, you could tell he was close. You take the base of his shaft in hand, stroking whatever wasn’t in your mouth.

“Go ahead, milk him dry.” Zoro chuckles in your ear.

Luffy takes hold of your head, calling out your name as he buries your nose against his pelvis, shooting his cum down your throat. You coughed as he removed his cock, but you were able to swallow down everything he gave you.

“Sorry.” Luffy sheepishly grins, chuckling as well.

You could only flop onto Zoro’s chest, his toned arms holding you close as you went boneless. You heard him sigh in relief as he held you. Sanji rakes his hands through your hair, fixing it, so it’s no longer in your face.

“So?” Zoro’s chuckle causes his chest to rumble under you, “Would you really want to go back to that gloryhole?”

“Or would you rather come to us anytime you need a sexual release?” Sanji smirks.

“Hrmmm…” you tease, getting more comfortable in Zoro’s lap, “I guess this is a satisfactory alternative.”

Luffy chuckles, “I don’t know what that means, but I hope that means you’ll do this with us more!”

You softly smile, “Of course it does, Luffy.”

#vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece #one piece smut #fanfiction #x reader #roronoa zoro #cream's fics #roronoa zoro x reader #vinsmoke sanji #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #luffy #monkey d luffy

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heliads · 7 months

Note

Not sure if you write for Namor from MCU, but could you write Namor x Y/N Enemies to Lovers where Y/N is a Greek demigod who helps Namor after washing up injured and Namor pays them back by helping them deal with a monster? They’re enemies bc he still distrusts humans. Could Y/N also be a child of Hecate please?

had not seen wakanda forever but this request is so good that i specifically sought it out for you, anon. a+ job

masterlist

At this point, the man washing up on the shores of the sea isn’t even the strangest thing you’ve seen all day. Nor is he your chief concern. Normally, the boundary spells up around your city would keep out any intruders, unconscious men who might be soldiers be damned, but the boundary spells haven’t been working well as of late. That’s kind of why you’re here.

You consider him for a while, his unmoving form, the weapons at his sides still softly clinking as the rolling surf pulls them together, then decide that this is so not your problem and leave. Men destroy themselves all the time. This one, although stranger than most, will either be able to sort himself out when he wakes or be far beyond the reach of your help.

This sort of sentiment would strike many as unkind, but to you, it is nothing uncommon. This is survival. It has never been pretty. It works as well as you let it, and one moment of mercy can spell your death in a second. Right now, you’re not just responsible for yourself, but your entire civilization as well.

If you ask most scholars and historical enthusiasts, they’ll tell you that the lost city of Atlantis is a myth. Nothing real, just a bunch of old stories all tied together into one perplexing knot. The world loves disasters. The idea of a highly advanced Ancient Greek society sinking beneath the waves, all that knowledge and power gone forever, is highly corruptive. Some people spend their entire lives hunting down rabbit holes and paper trails to see if they could be the one to track it down, but in the end, no one actually wants to find Atlantis. The allure is in the impossibility.

You suppose that’s why they never managed it. Atlantis is somewhere out there, ripe for discovery, just as so many thrillseekers have envisioned. The only problem is that its inhabitants have absolutely no desire to be found, so no one has found it. You would know, you live there. In fact, you have lived there for a very long time. Not as long as the oldest; some of you have died by now, others have left, and many have been forgotten, but the stories of what it was like before you cut yourselves off from the world have been passed down for centuries, and you’ve heard and told most all of them.

The Atlantaens were in danger, that’s why you left the ancient world in the first place. Many scoff at the idea of the Ancient Greek pantheon today; so many gods and heroes and monsters, none of them kind, all of them doomed. We love to laugh at that which we do not understand, but the gods laugh at us for not believing, and then they damn us with curses and agents of destruction. The gods are real, all of them, and they do not take kindly to insults.

Over the course of time, while the Aegean Sea was settled and fought over, a certain kind of people tended to drift towards Atlantis. At first, the progression of its society was slow, but as rumors grew of its inhabitants, those who found they had more in common with the Atlantaens than their own people left their homes to find a true one.

To put it plainly, Atlantis was home to the demigods, the ones chosen by the Fates for a higher purpose. Many Greeks went their whole lives without being called upon the gods. Others couldn’t have a good night’s sleep without being plagued by visions of future quests in their dreams. So much immortal attention attracted the ire of the Athenians, the Spartans, everyone. Out of fear for their lives and a desire for more, those of you touched by the Olympians went to Atlantis, and once there, you never wanted to leave.

For a while, this progression was fine. No one bothered you on Atlantis because they weren’t stupid enough to try and attack an island full of half-gods and heroes. During difficult times, though, when harvests weren’t bountiful and water supplies grew dry, it was easier for outsiders to blame the island of outcasts than their own city-states. Thieves started sneaking onto Atlantis, burning your crops before vanishing under the cover of night. Prized possessions went missing. Families were hurt.

Without a definable cause, infighting erupted between demigods. Old angers between godly parents renewed themselves among their children. Poseidon’s children swore destruction on Athena’s chosen scholars. Ares’ soldiers spit at the feet of any tinkerer of Hephaestus who crossed their path.

Eventually, it became clear to the island leaders that drastic changes had to be made before the island tore itself apart. The demigods never attacked each other before things started turning sour, so the enemy was obviously the outsiders. To solve the crisis, the strongest of the demigods turned to the gods for help, and for once, they answered. Atlantis was cast away from the rest of the city-states, veiled from mortal eyes and dragged further into the Mediterranean Sea. You still had all the resources you needed from your island, you just weren’t hurt by the mortals.

Thus life carried on for centuries. Your art and achievements continued to expand at a breakneck pace. You lived longer, accomplished more. The gods smiled upon you. Your island was huge, your society could flourish without being impeded by the limits of your land. It became clear that the bad times had ended.

Or, they had, and then the first monster showed up. Without constant invaders, the art of fighting had somewhat fallen out of fashion. Ares’ descendants would never allow it to die completely, but it had become almost archaic. The monster was eventually slain, but it sparked fear into the hearts of the Atlantaens, and made everyone realize that they weren’t invulnerable.

The people of Atlantis responded in two separate ways. Some flung themselves before their temples, praying to the gods to deliver them again. They waited in their homes for an inevitable second attack, shaking and scared. Others, like you, realized that the only ones who would save you would be yourselves. The gods respond to insult; they removed Atlantis from the mortals because their offerings were constantly raided. One monster on an island of many is not worth their concern. It is up to you to protect your people.

You have two ways of saving your island. One is through the sword. The other is with your spells. Your mother, Hecate, often visits her children in dreams to instruct them in the magical arts. You’ve learned many spells and incantations, and they’ve come in handy as more and more monsters appear. You can only hope that they will be enough to continue the defense of the island. It seems as if the attacks will never end.

And, chillingly, perhaps they never will. You and your fellow demigods, the ones that decided to fight back instead of waiting for a salvation that will never come, have made a plan to save yourselves. Part of that involves regular patrols and expeditions to the outermost reaches of the island to kill any monster that crosses your path. You have enchanted swords at the ready, plus half a dozen defensive spells burning under your fingertips. This is not the time at which you die.

You have enjoyed many patrols over the past few years, but today, your veins are thrumming with adrenaline even more than at the start. You know something is out there. A couple of farmers turned up with bloody livestock, scared of something poaching their animals. Scales and talons have been found. If you’re right— and let’s be honest, you really don’t want to be— you’ve got a Hydra on your hands.

That’s bad news. The monsters were small at the start; a lesser scourge here and there, a malevolent spirit, and then they got bigger. A harpy. A medium sized giant. If you’re getting hydras— well, maybe you’ll have to make some good offerings to the gods in addition to your regular training. Some divine protection couldn’t hurt at a time like this.

That’s why you can’t afford to worry about a man passed out on your shores, not yet. Yes, he is a problem, a definitive sign that the godly interference that should be protecting Atlantis has started to slacken, but you can deal with him after you kill the hydra that’s after both of you. Always the monster you know, right? Or the monster you know is lurking in the undergrowth, ready to slaughter you and your entire island.

You had planned on coming back for the guy, sure, but maybe his unconscious body doesn’t believe that, because you’ve hardly taken ten steps past his fallen form when he suddenly jerks to life. It’s like reanimating a corpse, how he moves; from nothing to everything all at once. His eyes go wide, and he gasps desperately for air, one hand reaching to his throat. Strangely enough, he doesn’t choke out water, but blood, a few scarlet mouthfuls before he lies on his back once more, twitching into stillness.

You peer back over at him. Not dead yet, his chest still rises and falls with desperate breaths. It would be smart to carry on your path and only check in with this man when you’re sure a monster won’t lunge at you out of the surrounding trees the second you turn your back, but he’s spotted you already. One hand reaches out towards you, trembling, from where he lies in the surf.

He starts to open his mouth, and you silently prepare yourself for some sort of desperate plea, a call for aid. Instead, you’re surprised when all the man says is, “Were you really going to leave me to die here?”

You blink at him. “I thought you were already dead.”

He has the audacity to frown at you. “I would have died if I needed help and you didn’t provide it.”

You can’t believe he’s washed up on your island– you know, the unfindable one– and has the nerve to question your hospitality. “Same difference.”

“Not to me,” he harrumphes, and starts to sit up. So he really isn’t dead. If he isn’t dying, though, that means it actually is your duty to help him. You’re more of a soldier than a nurse, so he’d better not have any broken limbs. Seeing as you really have no choice, you bite back a bitter groan and help him at last. He eyes you distrustfully, but lets you drag him farther from the tide. You had intended to prop him up against a tree or something, but he protests when he gets too far from the water, so you settle for a smooth boulder close enough to the surf that the waves still crash over his feet.

Strangely enough, the water seems to be helping him heal. You can see the ghosts of scars criss crossing his chest, but they don’t appear to be old wounds. Instead, they might be recent.

You squint at him. “Do you have enhanced healing?”

“And strength,” he adds. “I wouldn’t recommend trying to kill me. You would die before you got the chance.”

If this is how strangers act when you try to help them, you’re not surprised that the ancient Atlantaens asked the gods to cordon off their island. “I could tell you the same thing. Keep your hands where I can see them.”

He regards you for a second. “Why should I do what you tell me? I don’t bow to strangers.”

“Neither do I,” you force out through gritted teeth, “and right now, you’re on my land, so I suggest you learn to scrape at least a little bit.”

He narrows his eyes. The salty sea air blows his dark hair against his face, revealing more of the ornate jewelry around his neck. It looks ancient, perhaps even as old as your society. Although you’d like nothing more than for him to hurry off of Atlantis, you can’t help your curiosity and open your mouth to ask about it.

You’re cut off before you get the chance. The man doubles over all of a sudden, hands flying to his throat once more. Now that you’ve moved him farther away from the ocean, you have a better look at his wounds, and although they’re healing quickly, they look severe. Severe enough to kill him even with advanced health.

Swearing, you raise your hands and begin chanting. Healing spells have become increasingly useful as of late; Hecate’s children learn at least one before they're even knee height, and you’ve had plenty of chances to practice these sorts of incantations thanks to the sudden surge of monster attacks.

Tendrils of magic fly from your hands and wrap around the man. The spells target the injuries across his chest, his heart, his throat, and strangely enough, a few fly down to one of his ankles, repairing a set of wings above his feet. You chant until your throat goes hoarse, until he stops choking, until his breathing settles. Only then do you lower your hands, and wait there in terrible transience, waiting for him to say something.

At last, slowly, incredulously, he does. “What did you do?”

“I saved your life,” you say.

He nods. “I know. With magic?”

You incline your head. He ponders this for a moment longer, then extends a hand towards you. “My name is Namor.”

You stare at his outstretched palm, then take it. “I’m Y/N. Welcome to Atlantis.”

He doesn’t believe you at first. It appears that the rumors of Atlantis’ disappearance are more widespread than you thought if they’ve managed to reach an underwater Mesoamerican city across the world. Namor believes you soon enough, though, especially when he’s gathered his strength enough for you to lead him up a rocky cliff so he can see the majesty of your island sprawling out before him.

The sight stuns even you, with your years of remembering it, so you’re pleased to see that Namor looks appropriately stupefied. Atlantis is a marvel; crisscrossing colonnades, magnificent gardens, marble roofs shining in the sun, temples to so many gods and goddesses that even you can’t remember them all. Children run laughing in the streets, and their parents chastise them or smile at the fun they’re having. A flock of university students chatter on their way to class. Soldiers practice in an open training yard, and the clash of bronze echoes such that you can hear it even here, on the very outskirts of the island.

“This is your home?” He asks.

You smile. “It is.”

“Why were you all the way out here, then?” Namor queries, “If not looking for dying men to ignore?”

You roll your eyes. “I saved you eventually, didn’t I?”

He laughs. “Only when I asked you to. Some would call that heartless.”

You arch a brow. “Would you?”

He takes a step closer to you. “No,” he says at last, “I don’t think I would.”

You breathe out evenly and then, to hide the sudden pressure between your ribs, change the subject. “How did you come here, Namor? Our island is under enchantment to hide us from the rest of the world. You never should have been able to come here, especially not since it’s so far from where you were.”

Namor sighs. “I don’t know. I was returning home with my people after a truce with the Wakandans. We were attacked on the way by something, some sort of monster. I don’t know what it was. We managed to kill it, but while I was leading it away from our home, it struck me through the chest. I must have lost consciousness after I struck the killing blow, and then I woke up here.”

This makes worry tie up your stomach in tight knots. “A monster?”

You look back towards your shining city. Everyone seems to be happy and carefree right now, but if your monsters are cropping up in other parts of the world– if you cannot protect yourselves, not even if you had to run from Atlantis– there is no telling how long any of you could survive, especially not if the monsters keep getting bigger.

Namor lays a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Is everything alright, Y/N?”

“No,” you say firmly, “It’s not. Our peace has been shattered as of late. More and more monsters show up on our borders. I was out here to find another one that’s been spotted recently, a hydra. Even if I kill this one, though, it’ll be replaced by two more the next day. They never stop coming.”

The look in Namor’s eyes is soft, understanding. He knows what it’s like to feel as if you cannot keep your own people safe. “I will seek out this hydra with you. I have to go back to Talokan soon, but you have my word to return whenever you need help.”

You regard him questioningly. “Why would you make such a promise? We only just met.”

He lifts a shoulder. “You saved my life, I owe you a debt. Besides, we only have so many places free of humans left in the world. We should protect each other when we can.”

You smile, then decide to tease him a little more. “You know I’m half human, right?”

He feigns disgust. “I will only help half of your city, then.”

You laugh. “And kill half the hydra? That’s ridiculous.”

“No more than someone only being half immortal,” he points out. “How does that even work?”

You grin. “I try not to think about it.”

He matches your pleased expression. “Then I won’t, either.”

And so your daily patrol is joined by a feathered serpent god. The two of you stalk silently through the forests on the outskirts of Atlantis, marking signs of heavy travel. Intent on your prey, you manage to locate it with a combination of your spells and his experience. Killing the hydra is difficult, obviously; Tartarus does not make its monsters without wanting them to be impervious to most attacks, but when the dust settles, both of you are still alive and without too much damage. The same cannot be said for the dead monster, so a win’s a win.

The two of you stand there for a moment longer, weapons in hand, and then Namor slowly, remorsefully lifts his gaze from the dead hydra to look at you. “It’s time for me to go,” he says softly, “Talokan will be expecting me. They will wonder why I have not returned. I cannot afford for them to attack Wakanda again out of some nonexistent threat to their leader.”

“I understand,” you reply. You don’t like it, though. Not nearly as much as you would have liked it when you first found him on your shores.

“I should go,” he repeats, but his weapons are gone from his hands and he’s striding towards you, closing the distance in a breath, kissing you.

“You should go,” you tell him, but his hands are on your hips and you don’t want him to let go, not now, and certainly not to a city across the sea.

“I should–” Namor begins, but you interrupt him to kiss him again. His fingers curl against your sides, and you know for certain that he wants to leave just about as you want him to.

He does force himself away eventually. Both of you understand that there is and will always be something greater than the two of you at stake. Neither of you are just a person, just a god; the fate of your homes is far more pressing than any personal want. Still, when you walk back with him to the ocean and watch him disappear beneath the glimmering blue of the waves, you know that you’ll regret every lost moment.

Still, there is hope that you might see him again. He told you how to find Talokan, and Namor is familiar with Atlantis now. You could find each other again, frame it as a need for your countries to have diplomatic relations. You could be happy again. It might take time, but it could happen. You, for one, will be counting down the days until then.

marvel tag list: @mayfieldss, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver, @alex-1967s-blog, @crazyhearttragedy

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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see-arcane · 9 days

Text

Blood of My Blood: The Law's Delay

Shout out to @ibrithir-was-here for putting up with my never-ending goal of overfilling the glorious Blood of My Blood AU with my ramblings and extra shout out to @everchangingfungusthoughts and @animate-mush for tripping me down the slope of Writing Another Text Brick. Specifically via this whole thing.

Summary: Jonathan Harker, now fifteen years deep into his life at Castle Dracula, finds himself the unwilling guest of yet another frightful host and his company. Talk and violence and time tick by.

The sun sinks low.

The dead travel fast.

And a vital Lesson is taught regarding the Law of the land.

Warnings for graphic violence, suicide, and murder.

Jonathan’s head ached.

Partly from the agonized spot at the back of his skull where the cudgel had struck. Mostly from the state of his current company.

They were nomads, he knew, but not Dracula’s men. This lot were too fresh for that. In fact, some wore tailoring that the locals weren’t accustomed to apart from tourists and the occasional city dweller passing through. He wouldn’t bet money on how many were ‘donated’ from past victims and how many were afforded through helping themselves to said victims’ purses and personal cheques. They were a dapper group, whichever the case.

From what he picked up while feigning unconsciousness, there was someone missing from their assembly. Someone’s…paramour? Wife? A young woman close to the presumed leader. Some grousing about superstitious idiots. Counter-grousing about precaution and history and how somebody’s cousin’s friend was slaughtered by the ‘superstitions.’ A third sect was grumbling about how thin Jonathan’s pockets were for a supposed noble, monster or not.

“A half-full purse and a few strips of dried pork don’t particularly line up with your theory, Jacob.”

“Props, idiot. Would some common huntsman be wearing what he wears? Would he have these?”

Jonathan heard the heavy jingle of his set of the castle’s keys. They had taken the ring of them from its chain among a handful of other lightweight treasures. All that and his wedding ring. That would cost them.

“Oh, yes. Of course. Because all the revenants who run a swatch of the Carpathians’ government are surely wandering around with frightful things like jerky and house keys.”

“Are you blind? Do these look like house keys? Half of them look older than the mountains!”

“Well, perhaps that is the ‘prop’ of his property, eh? A fancy set of keys made to look old. They certainly haven’t any rust. It wouldn’t be a terrible gimmick these days. Everyone is a fiend for the local bogeyman or a good haunting. I would do tours with my own castle, dribble a little red sauce on my lip, charge a fee for the thrill and the courtesy of not killing anyone on the way out.”

“You talk like it’s a joke. This, when I was raised in these godforsaken crags, and my own neighbor lost their newborn and its mother in the same night! The father blew his brains out when he found what was left of them in the forest. His forest.” The words were hissed in Jonathan’s direction. “God! If we had known how easy it was to take him by daylight!”

There was a snort. The leader’s voice. Sour.

“You say ‘we’ like you weren’t still in nappies, Jake. Like the castle in question isn’t a fortress on a cliff in the dead center of the mountains, all covered with wolves and your frightful bloodsuckers. What would Mama and Papa do if they knew better back then? March all the way up with the neighborhood and hope they made it in time before sunset? That’s assuming the advised tools of the trade actually mean anything against the bastard in question. If he’s as old as legends claim, throwing himself through a hundred wars’ meat grinders with his head and heart and all his other giblets getting minced, with him still standing after it, who’s to say an axe and stake are enough?”

A kick was delivered to the chair Jonathan sat bound to.

“Assuming this piece of work is said bastard.” Spoken with equal parts resignation and frustration. “I’ll grant he looked a bit off in broad daylight. Sure as hell would pass for a cadaver. But if this is the man who had your slovenly little villages soiling themselves after dark, I’m not impressed.”

Snickers from most of the room. A few grimmer sounds from the believers.

“If you don’t believe us, then—,”

“I believe in precaution, Jake. There are strange things in the world. If we want to believe that talking pile of dust, Vordenberg, who I’ll admit was a museum exhibit in his own right, we had us a near miss back in Gratz. So, fine. We finish this in the fashion of the locals. We can even set the pieces on fire if it makes you happy. Not the point. The point is—,”

A hand caught in Jonathan’s hair and wrenched his bowed head up, making the back of his skull throb anew.

“—we know Katrina was seen with you last, you ghoul.”

Jonathan opened his eyes. It had a noticeably sobering effect on much of the room. His host even eased his hold enough to stop trying to rip Jonathan’s hair out. A glance was spared for the assembled party. Easier now that he wasn’t doing it through his lashes. They really were a well-dressed bunch. One of them even wore the silver watch taken from Jonathan’s pocket quite well, though it clashed somewhat with the dagger he was fiddling with. He’d sprung for a handle with a gold hilt.

“Well?” He received a last yank before the man flung his head against the back of the chair. “Where is she?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know anyone by that name. Could you describe her?”

“Oh, I doubt if she would give her real one out to anyone. But we know you know her, Count.”

Jonathan felt the headache blossoming into a migraine.

“Count?”

“Dracula,” the one called Jacob grated out. He stood close to the table with his hand near the aforementioned tools of the trade. A wood axe. A sharpened garden stake and a sledgehammer. Matches. But he, like the rest of his friends, was content to leave his other hand resting on the pistol at his hip. “Don’t think you can throw your word games around here, you leech. You are not boyar here. You are not even a monster by daylight. Just a man—,”

“A man I am talking to, Jake,” from the leader. He turned back to Jonathan. “You see we have some bias in the retinue. Now, Jake and his cadre believe you are, in fact, the same awful old man who likely played out his Báthory fantasies by killing off a few local rustics for kicks once upon a time. Same white hair, same carcass complexion, and some properly unhealthy-looking windows of the soul. As an aside, you have the same body heat as a slab from the butcher. If you had a chance of living beyond today, I might have recommended you see a doctor about your circulation.

“Because I, like the bulk of the room, am of the belief that you are Count Dracula in the sense that the original Count and some Countess loved each other very much and managed to squat your malformed self out into the world before croaking. And, before departing, father dearest passed on the family tradition of idly killing off whoever was convenient as a little hobby. Am I near enough?”

Jonathan said nothing. Chiefly because he was fighting a wave of nausea, but also because it allowed him to keep his gaze steady. The westward window was visible over his host’s shoulder.

“I asked you a question.”

“I will answer if you tell me how you possibly concluded that a middle-aged man walking in the woods was a nobleman.”

To his surprise, the man revealed his evidence: the tarnished gold clasp of a dragon sitting against a garnet setting. This would also cost them.

“Hard to imagine the average hiker idling around in that corner of the wilds with this particular emblem on his coat.”

“That’s true,” Jonathan nodded. “I am not a hiker or a hunter any more than I’m a count. I am only the castle’s retainer.”

“Ah, well. That’s different. We are men of the people, sir, and we take pride in doing our fellow servile class the courtesy of a quick death. It’s only the aristos and nouveau riche who get the extra effort. Them and bleached out old bastards who go around taking what’s ours. What’s mine.” Jonathan watched the man slide a handsome pearl-handled blade from his pocket. It had a very fine edge. “Case in point, a certain young lady, of the flaxen and doe-eyed variety, being spotted in town with an older man of very unique description, not two days ago. Who she left with in his goddamn caleche.”

The blade came down in a gleaming arc. It sank cleanly into Jonathan’s left shoulder. Jonathan screamed at this and at the blade being flicked out. The steel was wiped clean on his sleeve.

“It should go without saying,” the leader said over Jonathan’s noise, steadily dwindling into hard breaths behind his teeth, “that the locals have a few choice theories about just who and what the man driving those horses is. Human? Dead? Dracula or one of his cohorts? Anyone who’d know for certain is either underground or a living antique themselves. Oh. But they did point out you seemed polite enough, according to most. Not someone anyone is eager to shake hands with, but fair. If you are the old devil of before, the younger generation are relieved you’ve gone mellow with the new century. Well done on the new leaf.”

“They were lying,” Jacob intoned, the picture of exasperation. “We all used to lie about him! He had eyes and ears everywhere! You didn’t mention him aloud unless you wanted to wake up to your child missing or you yourself being drunk dry or taken apart! I’m telling you, Katrina is already gone or worse!” His hand clutched eagerly at the whittled garden stake. “Let us be done with this, Anthony.”

Anthony gave his blade another cleaning swipe. He opened his mouth—

“The stake is wrong.”

—and closed it. He and the others peered down at Jonathan as he righted himself against the chair. The migraine was marching in circles around his head now, lighting fireworks and banging pans. At least his shoulder was a small distraction.

“Say again?”

“The stake. You haven’t finished the end of it. If you don’t burn the point down, harden it, the wood will just splinter if you don’t get it in one blow. One of you took the flint lighter from my coat, yes? Use that and save yourself the matches.”

The room looked owlishly at him. Jacob and his small band especially. Awkwardly, one of the latter fished out the stolen lighter and began cooking the point with its steady flame.

“See that? He’s already feeling accommodating.” Anthony clapped his palm with heavy chumminess against the wounded shoulder. Jonathan winced appropriately, stealing another squinting glance at the window. “Care to keep in this giving mood, or would you like me to even things out?” The blade pointed airily at Jonathan’s right shoulder.

“No need. I said before, I do not know anyone named Katrina. But I did give a ride to a young woman two days ago. Not ‘flaxen,’ though. Her hair was red.”

Anthony abruptly straightened. The blade twisted and fidgeted in his fingers.

“Red,” under Anthony’s breath. His brow furrowed. “She took the wig too?” There was a low murmur from the less vampirically-invested portion of the group, of that specific tone that declares ‘I told you so’ by vowels alone. Anthony whirled on these members like a viper. Several mouths snapped shut. “Did you lot have something you wished to share? Hmm? I’m all ears.”

Interest increased in the state of each other’s shoes, the floor, the lovely view of the mountains, and the progress of the stake. It was now neatly blackened and free of loose slivers. Jacob stood by with it, toying with it as Anthony had his knife. He kept trying and failing to meet Jonathan’s gaze.

“Ah,” Anthony grinned mirthlessly, “that’s what I thought you said.” The blade flashed. “Now, Count, Retainer, Whoever or Whatever, while you are being forthcoming, is she alive or dead? I confess I might be just as happy with one or the other at this point, so no need to fret over a lie.”

“She was alive the last time I saw her. I dropped her off outside Bistritz,” Jonathan said, clearly recalling turning the horses toward Bukovina. He winced again as Anthony laid a hand on the bleeding shoulder, driving his thumb against the wound as he leaned.

“And? How did the bitch pay for her ride? Did you introduce her to necrophilia or did she just throw my money at you?”

“Neither. I am a married man and you can tell I had no bank vault in my pockets. In any case, I must assume whatever she took from you was fair recompense.” Jonathan felt a shift come through him. The old cold tilt that made him lean three-quarters of the way out of humanity and into something else. Whatever it was that lit his eyes and froze the air around him. That made the entire room shift an unconscious inch back. “Considering the state of her face.”

Anthony’s own countenance squirmed between aggravation, anger, and a surreal flash of embarrassment. As if leaving the girl’s face mottled with patches in shades of plum and charcoal was the equivalent of friends overhearing a marital spat in the next room. The man’s lip curled, making the well-trimmed whiskers twitch.

“Do forgive me if my decorum isn’t up to your standards, sir. I tend to get a touch irate when the thankless sow I’ve been bedding not only comes within inches of blowing our cover over some brat who went and poked his head out at the wrong time, but has the gall to try and resign after a few threadbare months. As if I didn’t scrape the little strumpet out of the gutter with my own hands.” A storm roiled in the man’s face. “Had a whole life of gold ahead of her, getting to play out her idiot actress dreams, and she thanks us by taking off with three hotels’ worth of work. Over a goddamn toddler. But that is the way with women, isn’t it? Always falling apart over a babe.”

“Men as well, in my experience,” Jonathan hummed. His line of sight drifted back to Jacob, whose attention was now firmly split between Jonathan and the view from the west window. Even halfway through spring, the sunsets did still tend to rush in the mountains. Shadows were already starting to stretch.

“Personal experience?” Anthony asked with an appraising glance that saw value in the negatives with Jonathan’s mien. “Is there a little Dracula pup crawling around nursing on the countryside?”

“Oh, no. He’s grown out of crawling. Apart from roaming along the castle walls, when he wants to surprise me. There’s no getting away with it with his mother.” Jonathan swallowed a bitter lump, knowing it had to be heard aloud, “Or his father.” Jacob was looking at him now. This time Jonathan held his eyes as they grew an increment wider. A slight dew of sweat had formed on the young man’s brow. “I only know where they are half the time. But they can always find me.”

Anthony barked an acidic note that tried to be a laugh.

“Is this the part where you tell us you’ll be missed? That there’s some cavalry who will come seeking vengeance? Please spare yourself the storytelling. If you were anything other than a relic living off a skeleton staff you wouldn’t be driving your own horses or puttering around by your lonesome. Really, what we’re doing here is a public good. What’s the loss of one more parasite riding into the twilight of peerage’s relevance?”

“Regrettably, he has thought ahead on that,” Jonathan admitted. “The gold he’s already sitting on is kept partly for emergency seed money, but mostly as a memento. He’s been on top of the capitalistic pulse since 1652 going by the oldest records. Given another decade, I believe he’ll be a magnate in a dozen industries from here to the United Kingdom.” A genuine moue puckered his face. “He calls it investing in the live-stock. No, I didn’t think it was funny either.”

This he addressed to Jacob.

Jacob, who had to set the stake down because his hand was shaking.

Jacob, who had been keeping watch of him and the window and seen how blandly Jonathan greeted the approaching dusk.

Jacob, who had finally taken a closer look at what Jonathan wore under his coat. His coat, worn because he was always cold—a chill that he truly felt. Covering an ensemble of boots, long sleeves, and a high collar. In mid-April.

“…You still have time,” Jonathan told him gently. “If you had your childhood here, you know there’s time. You still wear your crucifix, yes?” Jacob flicked his gaze up to Jonathan’s. His whole face seemed to shine with perspiration. He did not know what was wrong yet, what piece was missing, but he scented something. “Do you? Any of you?”

Jacob nodded jerkily. The men behind him did likewise. Some fidgeted at their shirts.

“That’s good. It sickens them, did you know? Stings them away from the throat.” Jonathan smiled for him. A sad curl. “Hold it out before you if you like.” He tipped up his chin. Just above the shirt collar was a glimpse of sickish color against the maggot-white skin. Something worse than a bruise. “You can check. Or ask one of your friends. But it does help to know for certain. To have it confirmed.” The smile grew worse in its apology. “There have been no vampire attacks in Transylvania for the past fifteen years. The youngest around here take it all as local legends. Parents’ and grandparents’ fairy tales. Because they grew up without knowing what you do. Without realizing why people stopped disappearing after dark when Count Dracula still rules here. When there are still sharp mouths to feed up in his mountains.”

Jacob gawped openly now. He looked strangely like the boy he might have been fifteen years ago, hearing his neighbors whisper and moan about the latest loss in the night. Fifteen years ago, when a foolish young Englishman had come to Castle Dracula, and everyone had known. No one had seen him again…supposing one belonged to a family who had moved away at last, daring their monstrous master’s ire to save their son.

“Oh, for God’s sake, what is this? Are we playing theatre now?” Anthony and his handful of fellow eye-rollers looked between Jonathan and Jacob as if expecting to spot some invisible party holding up script cards for them. “Jake, if you want to play at slaying the vampire, you are welcome to it. Get your stick and your hammer and have at it. Erik, take the axe.” He waved his blade like an impatient conductor with his baton. “Well?”

Jacob moved forward without the stake. His crucifix was held out as far as the cord would allow.

Then he hooked Jonathan’s shirt collar and pulled it open.

Jonathan hadn’t been able to get a good look at the full state of himself in some while. Occasionally he might steal a glance in a mirror for sale or a clean shop window in town. There was rarely anything good to see as far as his development went. Age was not weathering him the way it would an ordinary man. What should have become the easy creasing of crow’s feet and smile lines had given way to something sunken and grey. More than a few children had come to nickname him ‘Herr Geist’ when he passed through. On one occasion, he’d been approached by an American claiming to be a talent scout for a circus who thought Jonathan could easily bill as, The Walking Corpse.

But that was all just the effect of his face. He hadn’t seen his throat or a clear view of his shoulders in years; the real estate with the greatest number of visits for fifteen years. It had to be at least twice as unpleasant a sight as his forearms, pocked by only one hungry mouth’s nursing. To judge by the shudder of revulsion that jolted the entire room back on its heels, his neck was apparently quite the visual.

To judge by Jacob’s expression, the discolored map of ruined skin and old punctures was his own obituary in all capitals. Nor was it a very peaceful end it spelled out. His eyes rolled up to Jonathan’s like wet marbles. Jonathan could no longer maintain his smile, however somber. There was only condolence in the look.

“I told you. I am Castle Dracula’s retainer. At least, in the sense of a retaining wall. I have played the role of its inhabitants’ personal bloodletting pantry for a quarter of a century. Which would be cause enough to worry. But I am also a married man and that is worse.”

Jacob wobbled on his feet like a sapling in a high breeze. He almost fell over with a cry when the first thunderclap boomed over the cabin’s roof. A horrified look shot to the westward window. Sunset was less than a jagged slit across the mountaintops, already erased in the smear of a rushing storm. Lightning drew livid eyes in the clouds.

“I am sorry. You might have had a chance if you hadn’t been cautious,” Jonathan went on. “There would have been a coin toss if you had simply shot me dead in the forest. I fear I am testing everyone’s patience in that household by keeping to my contract against turning until the twenty-year mark. Special occasion and all that. But if you had gone with a bullet or a slit throat, that would mean that I would be undead by sundown. You would still be slain for trespassing on private property,” he gestured to himself as best he could with his bound hands, “but it would have been tidier. They might even be grateful for ripping off the plaster and booting me over the threshold. A mere snapped neck apiece.

“Unfortunately, I saw your tools of the trade. I heard your plans for ‘destroying the vampire,’ or the madman playing pretend as such. Heart staked, head removed, burn the body. All very thorough. But because I saw and heard these things, they saw and heard these things. Just as they know your faces now.”

Thunder snarled again. An explosive sound joined with a noon-bright flicker of lightning. Wolves sang a violent song. Close.

Jacob’s friends within the gang were talking in frantic tones to each other. The rationalists of Anthony’s side of the room seemed a touch less comfortable where they stood, grasping at their holsters. Anthony himself looked as if he was waiting to wake from a particularly confusing dream.

Jacob’s eyes were running. Pleading. A man only five short years past being a boy.

Jonathan still could not hold a smile for him, but he spoke in the tone he had for Quincey the time he’d came across a bat with a half-broken neck in the forest. Wings smashed, head cracked open, it had been alive in the worst way. Quincey had been thirteen then, considering himself practically a skip away from adulthood. He had still gone to his Papa, eyes dewy with blood trying not to spill, asking please…please…

Jonathan thought back to how his son had hidden in his coat sleeve while he ended the creature’s pain with a brisk twist.

It was quick, you see? It won’t hurt anymore now, shh, it’s alright, son.

“It’s alright,” he said in the present. “You still have time.” Not much. A few minutes at most. But still, “You’ll be safe from it. From all of it.”

Jacob nodded with a twitch. A puppet on a caught string. His hand trembled as it held up the crucifix again.

“…May I keep this? After?” Jonathan nodded. “Thank you.”

Jacob kissed the Cross and tucked it under his shirt.

“Jake, I swear to God, if you don’t drop this act, I will—,”

Bang.

The sound was almost lost in another thunderclap. Not so for the sound of Jacob’s corpse hitting the floor, the new tunnel in his head oozing a scarlet pond out from under his skull. There was a moment of quiet.

Then the wolves bayed again.

The men bayed too. Curses and questions of equal inanity whirled around the room.

Bang.

The sound of Anthony’s own pistol firing a hole through the ceiling.

“Shut. Up. Every one of you, bite your idiot tongues.” The barrel swung to point at Jonathan’s temple. “He says he has people on the way? He says they’re vampires or werewolves or the Four Horsemen a-riding? Then it would perhaps behoove us to think rather than squeal like women over this,” his shoe struck Jacob’s corpse, “fool’s choice of exit. Coward.” He snapped his fingers at the room. “Come on! Block the windows, set up arms! Move!”

And so they moved. Some men scrambled and shouldered into each other trying to cover the windows. Chairs were broken into pieces for stakes. Guns were unpacked and loaded. Erik held the axe as if his hands were welded to it. Anthony, meanwhile, took one of the unbroken chairs for himself and perched at Jonathan’s side. Something between supreme irritation and a baffled sort of wonder shaped his face.

“I do have to give you credit if this is all improvisation on your part. You should have been booked at the Grand Guignol instead of rotting up here.”

Jonathan watched Erik begin to pace, gripping the axe as though it doubled for a shield.

“That or one of those hypnotist acts. Jake was always a nervous one. An easy mark, ironically enough.”

Jonathan’s peripheral caught on Erik’s figure as he came to a stop by the door. There was no peephole to spy through, yet he inclined his head toward it. His ear was cocked as if listening for something under the thunder and wolves.

“But supposing this amounts to something more than an act, I admit I’m curious to see what these things are supposed to be like outside the pulp on the bookshelves or clogging up the stage. Everyone has their opinion on them these days.”

Erik first frowned, then nodded at the bolted door. The anxious creases of his face began to smooth. A smile tugged his lips up as the axe lowered.

“Are they the same kind of horror show as you?”

“Usually quite the opposite,” Jonathan allowed. “But that is by choice. They make some rather impressive exceptions when the occasion calls for it.”

Erik set the axe down. His freed hands moved the wooden bolt aside and reached for the key on its hook. This didn’t go unnoticed. The nearest man, one of Jacob’s friends, jolted toward him.

“Erik, what the hell are you doing?”

“Didn’t you hear her?” Erik spoke over him in a dreaming lilt. “The girl outside. Lovely voice.” He turned the key in the lock. “She and her brother got lost in the storm.” He turned the knob. “Wouldn’t be right to leave them out th—,”

Bang.

Erik dropped like a felled tree. Jacob’s friend whirled on the rest of the room, his gun and free hand up. He had his crucifix worn outside his shirt now.

“I had to! You know I had to! Jacob and old Vordenberg laid it out, didn’t they? You invite the things in and it’s all over!” He pointed at the door with the new stain on its timber. “One of them is out there right now, trying to worm into our heads, so we’ll let it over the threshold.”

As every eye nailed itself to the man and the door and the second corpse within five minutes, no one paid attention to the fireplace. They had not lit it, having opted solely for lamps. Chimney smoke would give away their location to anyone happening by the area.

Only Jonathan stared at the open stone mouth of the hearth. Watching what crawled out. Watching it watch him.

Anthony swatted Jonathan in his bad shoulder. He looked up and realized he’d been asked a question.

“Pardon?”

“Is he. Telling. The truth. Or did Erik lose his brains over nothing?”

“A vampire cannot cross the threshold of someone’s home without invitation. I think, at a stretch, you could call this temporary base of yours ‘home.’ Strict definition is tricky for travelers. But if you declare this place yours—,”

“We do,” insisted half the room in unison.

“We do,” Anthony echoed, somewhat dryly. “Our lovely domicile, this. And we are strictly against welcoming any visitors tonight.”

“Understandable. But there’s still the trouble of this afternoon. It’s hard to be more insistent about an invitation than resorting to abduction.”

“And? What of it?”

The fireplace continued to purge its contents out and out and out. Cooling the room like a thin and steady gust. Heads finally began to turn as gooseflesh spread and the sight became unignorable: A thick mist had been pouring into the room since Erik’s brains splattered on the door.

“You thought I was Count Dracula. Whether I was him or not, he was the man you wanted here.” Jonathan looked Anthony in the eye. He was not surprised at what he found there as it squirmed and sweated. “I’m afraid you invited him in two hours ago.”

The lamps guttered. One snuffed. Then its neighbor. A third, a fourth. Voices raised in tandem with the weapons.

“Light them!” came the universal cry. “Turn them back up, come on!”

But the room blackened and blackened until it came down to one canny fellow who’d dived for a lantern. The same man who’d pocketed the flint lighter. He lit the lantern and set it shakily on the table, its glow seemingly safer than the lamps’. The lighter was almost as bright in his hand, making a spotlight for himself in the ruddy gloom.

“What? What is it?”

Every head was turned to face him. Every eye wide enough to show its whites, like the stares of startled horses. The man opened his mouth to utter a third query—and stopped.

There was a hand on his shoulder. Cold. Far colder than the man he’d taken the lighter from. Its fingers ended in claws.

Above his head, the firelight caught on what might charitably be called a grin. It was, in fact, the default state of Count Dracula’s jaw in this shape. A medley of the wolf and the bat and the nightmares that are born when children’s imaginations first start to sketch the things that will eat them in the dark.

Jonathan wished he could have closed his eyes for all that followed. He did try. But there was an implicit order sunk into his mind that demanded he watch. Had this been a decade ago, this may have been for the sake of an object lesson.

This is what I can do. This is what I would have done to your little hunting party at the right hour, with your guard down for an instant. This is what I will do to any sheltering cattle you try to run away to with wife and child. Watch, my friend. Watch.

But that was practically a lifetime past. They were coming up on a mere five years until the wait was over and his free will and the final fig leaf of humanity was forfeit. Which suggested that he was a captive audience solely for the fact that an audience was desired. There was some artistry to it all, in a medieval sense. Some of the acts performed with the makeshift stakes and the barrels of guns and certain repurposed bones reminded Jonathan of old woodcuts left out for him to see once upon a time, back in that first summer alone with the castle’s Master.

By the time one of the men died choking on his own severed arm, the rest of the lot stopped shooting and herded themselves to the door, desperate. To their relief, there was no vampire at the threshold. They fled.

A heartbeat passed before the screaming began anew. Gunfire mingled with it. The screaming dwindled down and down, the choir thinning to a single shriek that ended on a terrible sound. Wet and crunching. Wolves were heard soon after.

Anthony had not moved from his position behind Jonathan’s chair. He’d resumed his grip on his hair, this time holding his blade just below the Adam’s apple.

“If you don’t have a head,” Anthony panted at the Count, now busy picking gristle from the spades of his nails, “you can’t be undead. The plays make a lot of fuss about staking the heart, but this?” He tugged Jonathan’s head back another inch and pressed the blade’s edge until the skin broke. “I figure it’s a fair bit more vital. I am a practiced man at my profession and quick when I need to be. You want him in one piece instead of two, you leak yourself out the door, call off your pets, and I’ll send him on his way come sunrise.” Though he couldn’t see him, Jonathan was certain the man was trying to smile. “If you’re amenable, perhaps we can even get a silver lining out of this whole thing.”

Dracula sucked a piece of sinew out of his thumbnail.

“I am accustomed to getting my hands dirty. While I’ve been in the habit of leading assorted hapless dregs around, I can easily see myself following someone worth respect. Your friend here indicated he’s on the edge of retirement anyway, and I imagine you could do with someone to step into the role. Or add to the ranks.”

Dracula busied himself with scanning the floor. He plucked up the silver watch still chained to a torso that was twisted like a wrung washcloth. A scowl was spared upon retrieving the key ring from a puddle of a head. Then the pouch containing Jonathan’s allowance. He deposited each bit of treasure found on the table. The last thing he discovered was Jonathan’s wedding ring. He seemed to ponder flicking it aside, but saw Jonathan watching. The ring was dropped in the pile the way one might discard a clump of dirt.

“Well?” from Anthony. “Do you talk or not?”

“I do,” from the Count. “Though not usually to vermin. Especially ones who raid my pantry.”

“Honest mistake on our part. I hadn’t realized you were the one-in-a-thousand legend that isn’t just the fumes of an invented ghost story.”

“I see.” Dracula bent and retrieved the stake that had its point burned. It left the holster of a man’s sternum with a damp sound. “And this too was a mistake?”

“Just trying to placate the skittish sorts in the party. You saw how Jake was.”

“I did.” The Count tapped the stake’s point against his chin, pondering. “In fact, I think I recall a face like his. A sailor I met once. He took to the sea, having no bullet in reach.” He leveled the stake at Anthony’s head. “You called him a coward for this, yes?”

“Am I wrong?”

“There is a fine line between cowardice and wisdom,” Dracula shrugged. “It moves more than you would think. Little Jacob was wise tonight, if sadly mistaken in his target. He was not the first of his type. Likely not the last. The same goes for you, vermin. You, who squeak and chitter about preying upon the predator, and then try to sell yourself to the cat.” Though much of his face had reset to a human shape, the Count’s teeth remained a bristling forest of white needles when he grinned. “I have had this land in my jaws for half a millennium. I have not gone a single century without your like slinking underfoot, thinking to kiss my cape and offer a tithe of others’ throats to win my favor. My power.”

“Way of the world, isn’t it? Strong bows to stronger. What makes this cadaver,” another jerk on Jonathan’s hair, another throb in his skull, “so special? Better resumé? Seasoned arteries?”

“A number of things.” Another shrug, a twirl of the stake like a toy. “He does so hate to hear it anymore. It has been so long since any kind of praise heartened him and age has made him shy. But he cannot shush me, so I can say he does far more than bleed, be it himself or his victims of old. He certainly has a more impressive history than robbing and gutting tourists for a living, and so is far more attuned to the Law of this land than any other. Not the yapping dogs of mortal authorities. Not your jailor or judge or bureaucrat. Not even those of the sciences, such as they are.”

Thunder cracked and lightning danced. The Count’s eyes burned brighter than the lantern.

“He knows that I am Law in these mountains. That my will, my word, and my want order all that is here. He knows that there is no escaping consequence for trespassing upon what is mine. But.” The Count clapped the stake into his open palm with the joviality of a cruel teacher with his yardstick. “Beyond all this, he is something which guarantees his value over yours or any other’s. He warned you himself.” The jagged grin turned almost saccharine. “He is a married man. And you have kept him out far too late for his spouses’ liking.”

Anthony shifted behind the chair. The grip on Jonathan’s hair shuddered a moment as if suddenly repulsed to be touching it.

“God. Even the monsters are in on that depravity up here?”

“Depravity is a pastime of mine. But I am not so low as to debase myself by touching filth like yours.” So saying, the Count raised both hands in mock surrender. “I shall not waste my time or teeth on you.”

“Fine. Fine, you say that and I can believe you. Once you’re out the door.”

The door, still open.

The door, which Anthony had not dared to look at for fear of taking eyes off the Count.

The door, full of mist.

“Ah, but I cannot go yet. There is a show I have been so looking forward to. You mentioned the Grand Guignol. Such a promising establishment! I plan to see it in person some night. But for now, we must content ourselves with your meager scene.”

Anthony opened his mouth to ask something. Say something. Maybe he was just drawing breath. Whatever the reason, his mouth froze in a voiceless O of epiphany.

There was a hand on his shoulder. Cold.

It distracted him from the other, decorated with its simple gold band, locking around the man’s forearm; the one responsible for holding the blade.

Snap.

Anthony’s mouth dropped open wider, belting a screech that left Jonathan’s ears ringing. Then the man was torn away from the back of the chair and all the noise of him was pinned and shrilling on the floor. Laced over the ensuing sounds of his dismantling, both vocal and visceral, was a voice that threaded through the mind more than the ear:

He cut you. Twice he cut you.

“I’ll be fine, Mina.” Said because there was concern in the statement. There was. But, more pertinently, there was the accusation. The condemnation. The citing of the crime.

He cut you. He meant to kill you. He meant to unmake you out of reach forever.

Anthony made a new and piercing noise. The kind just an octave short of a dog whistle. Jonathan winced.

“And he failed to. It’s alright, Darling.”

“Hardly,” from the Count, now turning Anthony’s abandoned seat around to face the slaughter. “You are too soft as always, my friend. Even when it comes to a rightful culling. Or do you think they deserved to live after their crimes?”

“I think this was excessive.” Jonathan withheld a sigh as Dracula hooked the back of his chair, hoisting and turning it so that his back was no longer to Mina’s work. She seemed to have an innate understanding of what could be taken apart and to what degree, the better to leave Anthony still clinging miserably to a thread of life. “And I also think I’m ready to have these off.”

He flexed his hands and feet as far as they could go against the ropes.

“Have what off?” Dracula asked as he swiped a finger into the shoulder wound. A child stealing cake icing. He clicked his tongue. “This would happen just after a feeding. All this guilt-free cuisine and your knights-errant are too full to enjoy the banquet. A pity. Have you eaten?”

“If I had my hands free, I could get my—,” Jonathan pursed his lips as Dracula brandished a bouquet of the retrieved dried pork. Deciding against waiting for the mesmer to prod him into it, he opened his mouth a crack. Bit. Chewed.

“Do you suppose the Grand Guignol has concessions? Any actual blood used in place of the stage swill?”

Jonathan swallowed. A nauseous feat, considering the piece Mina removed from Anthony in the same moment.

“I doubt any director is so dedicated, Sir.” Anthony was growing quieter now. There wasn’t enough air in him. Jonathan could tell by the glimpse of lung through his ribs. “Does Quincey know about this?”

No. It was blocked from him. He believes we are out on business.

Crunch. Twist. Rip.

Anthony went silent and still at last. Dracula afforded this a light round of applause.

“Not wholly a lie, you will grant. Though I suspect the boy thinks it was code for a more,” the Count made a face caught between glee and disdain, “intimate excursion. Which should be an easy enough ward against any prying you fear from him. You may have made a sickening romantic of the boy, but there is never a child alive or undead who wishes to know what his parents get up to out of his sight.” The Count craned his head, squinting at what was left of Anthony. “Did you come across it?”

That depends. Where’s mine?

Mina stood with the dragon clasp in one red hand and her other held out and open. Dracula idled a moment or three longer than was necessary before the stolen wedding band was produced. Clasp and ring were thrown rather than exchanged. Jonathan had each reattached to him. Though the Count spared a curse in three different languages at finding the coat not only mangled at the shoulder, but torn where the clasp had been ripped away.

“As if they could not understand the mechanics of a brooch? You should have pinned this in his eye.”

You should have fed him the stake. Look at this.

Mina touched the nick on Jonathan’s throat.

I know you count my wound as a blessing, but I would think you’d not risk losing his voice.

“I had to stall while you cleared up the leftovers outside. I may as well have left you with the boy.”

And lost your show and your diversion.

“You—,”

“I cannot feel my feet anymore,” Jonathan announced. “And I would like to stitch and plaster myself before we head out. Whatever Quincey may think we’re up to, it will be easier to lie without me looking like I just left,” he gestured as best he could at the room, “this.”

A minor miracle came and went as there was no suggestion made that they simply lay a new bite apiece over the wounds. The ropes were cut, what was filched was returned to its owner, give or take a little scavenging of their own. Jacob and the others were left with their tokens of the Son. Outside, the wolves went on enjoying the meal Mina had left for them. Up until a titanic thunderbolt struck the cabin and sent them scrambling. The building went up like a great bonfire.

“I know, my friend, you were clearly looking forward to digging more graves. But you must admit my method is quicker and far more thorough in erasing evidence.” The nettling cadence waned. “I suggest you avoid wandering away from the castle for some time. Considering your state.”

Not while dressed in this, at the very least. It’s clear this insignia draws as much ire as it deters.

“A fluke,” the Count huffed. “Such degenerates as those are rare. The chattel know better. Besides, the folly was in drawing attention by playing Good Samaritan to the wrong victim and her maudlin pleading. Something else to keep in mind.” Jonathan tried and failed to keep his head down as the hook landed in his mind and turned his eyes up. Dead blue against burning red. “At least for as long you insist on holding to your last few years as…this.”

Jonathan bit into his last strip of the dried pork. Loudly.

“Five years. That’s all.”

“Four and a half.”

“Four and a half I mean to savor. In-between being waylaid.” The careful placidity fractured as his free hand drifted up to the back of his skull. Still aching. “I think I shall finish off the Golden Mediasch tonight.” His hand was plucked away by Mina’s own, her chilled fingers seeking out the tender place under his hair. Her fingertips felt the scabbing patch.

I should have skinned him.

“You are welcome to stroll through the fire and do so,” the Count hummed. But his smile stopped short of his eyes and his own hand swept Mina’s away to thumb at the ache. “The Mediasch is barely more than fruit juice. You will want something stronger.”

Jonathan didn’t argue. Nor did he protest when the horses of his ex-hosts were commandeered for the return to the castle. Quincey thrilled at the sight of them almost as if they had arrived riding wolves. Was this the business they went on? Tunet and Pretekár were quite new—and solid obsidian as the horses before had been—but it was good to see them gain more company. And they’d picked piebald this time!

“They’re beautiful. Do they have names yet?”

“Thought we’d leave that to you,” Jonathan managed lightly enough. Or nearly so. Quincey frowned at him, nose pricking at the smell of dried blood.

“Papa, are you alright? You—,” his eyes landed on the coat, “—what happened?”

“Just a quick lesson from our new friends about minding their moods. I was tossed and landed in a less than opportune pile of rocks.”

Quincey scowled at that and scrutinized the stallions.

“Which one? I’m not riding him. Or petting him, even.” He considered. “At least for a month.”

“Seems a cruelty too far. I suppose I just won’t reveal the guilty party.”

“And what if I get on the wrong horse and I get tossed and land on a rock somewhere? What then?”

“Then you will get back up and be perfectly alright. Or am I misremembering the night you fell asleep on the side of the north turret and fell through half a tree on your way down?”

“Yes, well. They were fairly soft branches.” Quincey fought and lost the attempt to keep his smile up. “Papa?”

“Yes?”

“The horses weren’t the actual business, were they? You could have gotten them yourself.”

“That’s true. The horses were only picked up afterward. Quite a bargain, not counting the lumps.”

“Then what happened?”

Jonathan looked at his son. His Sweetheart, though the boy had finally started to bud into that stage that visits all adolescents, demanding a shedding of childhood names. There was a dusting of stubble barely fringing his jaw and his mother’s own whorls outgrowing the edges of his last haircut. But the eyes were still a child’s. Bright and molten as the sun at dusk.

“…There was some trouble two days ago. I aided a girl trying to leave behind some people who hurt others. Who hurt her. They had some less than scrupulous plans for the future and had already bypassed local authorities to get where they were by the time I crossed them. So I reached out for some assistance.” And, because he felt the air prickling with observation, “Your Father was very keen to educate them on the difference between the laws of other lands versus the Law of his land. And your Mum has always been of a rescuer’s bent as a rule. So.”

“So Mum and Father caught them? Together?” The sunset eyes gleamed at the prospect.

“They did,” Jonathan nodded.

“Were they bandits?”

“Of a sort. But they won’t hurt anyone now.” Jonathan watched from the corner of his eye how the boy, so near to a young man, glowed over the notion of being a son to heroes.

He got to the tower before he felt his eyes begin to sting as sharply as his head.

#I'm beginning to think I simply cannot go more than 0.5 days without making a novella #oops #anyway enjoy the One and Only scenario in which Dracula and Mina would willingly work together on literally anything:#Their Damsel/Jonathan is in peril. Time to do some mauling about that.#anyway #jonathan harker #mina harker #dracula #dracula bad ending #blood of my blood #my writing

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