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#he woke up and chose to be a menace
duawahausa · 7 months
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Another day, another slay
Man doesn't fear shit, the fed can lit him up as many times as they want, he will never yeild.
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ksdesign · 2 years
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he’s feeling silly 🤭
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llynwen · 1 year
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oh my god they have armed the baby
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phyrestartr · 28 days
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Icarus, I Am Devoted | Sukuna x M!Reader
Main Fic W/C: 5.9k Bonus Drabbles W/C: 1.6k
[#Modern AU, ABO dynamics, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, sukuna has FEELINGS, but he is BAD AT FEELINGS, nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, I KINDA EDITED BUT I JUST WANT THIS TO BE YEETED INTO THE OPEN OK BYE SORRY IF PARTS ARE CLUNKY]
@better-imagination-9 I summon thee
--
Sukuna didn't like Yuuji getting caught up in his business. 
He was too brash, thought himself too badass for the world to take down, thought gang life wasn't as bad as it was made out to be, just because his older brother was involved. Sukuna didn't know where the fuck he got that idea–the tattooed menace had killed people, stolen money, sold shit that ruined lives. It was fun for him, sure, but not so much for bystanders. 
“You're an idiot,” Sukuna growled as he dragged his brother into his office and threw him at the chaise lounge while they waited for their doctor on demand. 
“H-hey, come on, man! It's, uh, it's not even that bad–” Yuuji grimaced, though, holding at the wound gushing blood from his arm. “You've had worse!”
Sukuna laughed bitterly as his henchmen flooded the room and made necessary preparations for their aid's arrival. “You and I are fucking built different, Yuuji--you’re too damn soft for–”
“I'm not,” Yuuji snapped, honeyed eyes blazing. “I'm not.” 
Sukuna laughed again, then ripped his plush, leather chair across the room, sending it hurtling into the expensive ebony walls he encased his place of business in. He roared in overwhelming fury as it clattered to the floor. 
“How hard is it for you to listen? How come you can never just fucking–” 
“Yelling won't solve things,” your cool voice interrupted as you hurried into the room, medical bag in hand. “I thought you learned that by now.” 
Sukuna whirled on his heel. His hands were still fisted in his hair and his blood boiled, but now, there existed an explosive tension with you in the room. 
You, his pretty little omega. The one he chased away. The one he still craved. The one that drove him insane. 
“Uraume,” Sukuna growled, crimson eyes locking onto his most devoted. 
“My apologies,” they said with a pensive look and deep bow, “he was the only one willing to come.” 
“So mind your manners, or I'll let your brother bleed out,” you said airily, so haughty and bitchy and annoying. But Sukuna knew you wouldn't let Yuuji die. You wouldn't let him suffer with a wound like that–you were too fond of the little brat. 
Sukuna snarled in frustration and fixed his jacket with sharp tugs. “Just fix him.”
He stalked away, ignoring the way Yuuji yelled at him before preening at you as you tended to him. Sukuna knew his brother had a bit of a thing for you, his bitch, which caused more than a handful of problems with the two arguing and fighting for your affections. Naturally, you chose Sukuna. Of course you would.
The alpha's frustrations boiled, reducing the rage in his gut into simmering desire. He leaned his head back against the elevator mirror with a sigh as it shot up toward the penthouse--the one you, too, used to occupy. The one where you'd spread your legs for him, drowning in expensive, black silk sheets while he bred you like the good little thing you were. The one where you'd cook for him if (when) you woke up before him the morning after. The one where you first whispered I love you against his skin when you thought he was asleep.
The elevator doors dinged open, and he stormed out, eager to rid himself of the tightness pulling at his slacks. A cigar and a drink sounded good, too. 
Ding. 
He knew it was you. It had to be you. You were a good person, willing to let Uraume rest while you gave your ex the update he needed about his brother. After all, you didn't fear him, nor did you yearn to please him. You were more than capable of delivering shit news and getting off scotch free. 
“So?” Sukuna took a deep puff from his cigar and leaned further into the balcony railing as you approached. 
You hummed as you sidled up next to him, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as the breeze tugged at it. “He'll be fine. Yuuji's tough. He's a bit shaken up now that the adrenaline’s worn off, though.” 
“Maybe that'll teach that idiot not to get shot.” 
“Probably not.” 
“Probably not,” Sukuna sighed, tapping off a dash of ash from the butt of his cigar just before it was plucked from his hands. “Oi.” 
“These things'll kill you,” you scolded airily. “So will that.” You tried reaching for the crystalline glass of amber, too, when Sukuna scoffed and took a sip to spite you. 
“Don't,” he snarled. Any normal omega would have backed away. Any normal omega would have keened. Any normal omega would have tried to please him up with a sweet scent of submission. But you were a different breed entirely. 
“Don't growl at me–” you gaped as Sukuna downed the expensive liquor before whipping the glass at the skyline. “Sukuna.”
He stalked back into his penthouse with heavy steps as he ran his hands through his hair. He had to busy his fingers, his palms, just so he wasn't tempted to touch you, to grab you like he was used to. It'd been years since you were properly together–properly engaged in fact–but he still couldn't shake those infuriating fucking habits. You were a cancer in his mind, plaguing his body and thoughts. 
But he didn't want you to leave. Maybe he liked the chase. Maybe he just liked how his entire, explosive world narrowed down to just one infuriating thing that he wanted so badly. He didn't know. Maybe he didn't need to know. 
Sukuna poured himself another drink and collapsed onto his soft leather couch with a deep sigh. His arms draped along the back, one hand still holding the glass by the rim. He let his head fall back, and stared at the ceiling. 
Thankfully, you wandered in. And you wandered toward him, not to the door like you usually did when his temper flared and he acted out. Something small and pathetic in him uncoiled and settled down, purring in content when you took a seat beside him. 
“What's going on?” you asked quietly. Your fingertips singed sparks of pleasure against his skin where you touched: his cheekbones, his hairline, his furrowed brow.
He lolled his head to the side to look at you, his stupid pretty boy. “Nothing.” Not even Sukuna believed that.
You brushed his hair back, and the stupid alpha in him rose to the surface and moaned. “Yuuji’s not behaving?” Your warm palm cupped his cheek, and he leaned into it. 
“That little shit never behaves,” he mumbled through the vibrato of purrs rumbling from his chest. “Gonna make me die young.” 
“Hm. Is that why you haven't slept?” 
“I'm sleeping.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“Sukuna.”
“I said–” 
“You and I have different definitions of ‘enough,’” you chided lightly, like you were scolding one of your cats. “You look tired.” 
“Maybe it's because my mate scampered off in the middle of the night.” 
“Don't blame this on me.” 
“Why not?” Wine-red eyes glowered at you, deciding whether he should dominate or decimate you. “It's your fault.” 
You recoiled the slightest bit, your top lip twitching in that oh-so familiar way it did whenever you were close to snarling and snapping at him. You had such a temper for such a calm thing. Sukuna would be lying if he said he didn't try to rile you up on purpose. 
“Ho? What,” he started, grinning wickedly when you made a move to get up, but his arms snaked around you and held like wrought iron. “Feelin’ guilty?” 
“No,” you hissed, half-pissed by his drink spilling on you, half-pissed by his accusation. “Let go. I'm leaving.” 
“Leaving?” He crooned. “You always get so pissy when I don't wanna talk, ‘n now that I'm in the mood, you're tryna leave? Come on, sweetheart, that's not fair.” 
“I don't feel like fucking fighting tonight,” you snapped, and Sukuna stayed quiet for a change. “Yuuji got shot. You look like shit. And we--I haven't–” you took a deep breath. “Can't we just be civil for a night? Can't we just talk about–”
“About what?”
“About whatever.” 
“Fine.”
“Alright. Okay.” 
Somewhere behind the haze of alcohol, Sukuna's consciousness celebrated–this could be his shot at starting to fix things. This was his moment to rebuild that lost relationship and maybe clean up a space in his life for you to sit safely in. Your expectant expression agreed with him. You looked quite cute, what with your big eyes and the way you leaned into him. But instead–
“Was it a boy or a girl?” Sukuna asked before taking a sip of whatever remained in his glass. 
You blinked and shook your head, eyes narrowing the slightest as you looked over his face. “What?” You asked. 
Sukuna snorted and turned to face you, one arm gesturing with his scotch glass while the other arm stayed slung across the back of the couch. “I said,” he started, gesturing to your stomach and chuckling through his low, bassy words, “boy or girl? If it was a girl, then maybe the world did you a favour. You know how it is for women in this day and age.” 
You stared blankly like you were shellshocked, and Sukuna bubbled with near-manic, reedy laughter until you got up and walked to the door. 
“Oi, where the hell are you going, huh?” He got up and followed you, hastening his steps when he saw you b-line for the door. “Omega.” He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, purring into your ear as he pressed his chest to your back. “Come on, we can make another one. You'd like that, huh?” 
“Get off,” you barked, ripping his arms away from you. But he grabbed you again and spun you back to face him. You shoved him back, your mind whirling in a chaotic waltz drenched with grey thoughts and crimson rain that almost drowned out the words he barked at you until–
Whack. 
He hit you. Backhanded, fingers adorned with thick, bulky rings and knuckles that'd seen too many fights. A natural disaster contained in the vessel of a mortal man–sometimes, he didn't know his own capabilities.
“Shit,” Sukuna mumbled, scrambling to set down his glass to, what, tend to you? Rewind time? Sure. “Babe–” 
But you, too, were a natural disaster. The tsunami that came after an earthquake, raising tides high and staring down at split earth with a taunt: you think you're bad? Watch this.
Thwack. 
You snatched up that bottle of fancy scotch and hit a home run, watching Sukuna collapse to the floor.
Sukuna woke up with a concussion, his wallet missing, and one of his favourite cars torched. 
It got him riled up. He was too ready to hunt you down and make you rectify your mistakes–that is, until he remembered why you did what you did. 
Boy or girl?
Maybe the world did you a favour.
Fuck. He flew way too close to the sun this time.
He watched you stack up expenses on his card instead of hunting you. Your little rage-filled crime spree was kind of funny anyway, and he couldn’t help but hope it made you feel at least a little better. 
Though he knew it could never. Nothing could make it better. 
“You should quit messing around with him,” Ieiri said as she tended to the half-dead gangster laying on her operating table. “He's bad news. A kid like you shouldn’t be getting involved.” 
The one little, wiggly lucid part of Sukuna wanted to strangle Ieiri; you were young, sure, but not stupid. Sukuna wouldn't go so far as to say you were mature for your age, no, but you'd been beaten down by life and forced into the role of an adult for long enough that it'd changed your way of thinking, of perceiving the world. You could make your own choices–just as long as it involved him. 
“You're not the first person to tell me that,” you said softly, words rising with a small, warm chuckle. “Good guys try way too hard to put on a show, to hide how garbage they can be.” You squeezed Sukuna's hand and ran your thumb over his split knuckles. “Guys like him show you who they really are right away. Then, you get to figure out what his good side is like.” 
You were there again. In the elevator, looking a little pensive beyond your cool exterior. 
Sukuna took a drag from his cigarette as he stepped in beside you. The button for his penthouse leered at him and whispered, “you have time.” 
All he had to do was think of what to say. The right course of action was obvious, but–well, was it really his fault? He couldn't accept that 100%. You clocked him upside the head with a fucking glass bottle and stole his– 
“Those things'll kill you.” Your fingers snatched the smoke from his lips before he realized it. He caught you butting it out on the fancy gold railings. 
“I like things that can kill me,” he hummed, lighting another cigarette and chuckling when you snatched that one too. “What, scared of a little competition?” 
“Yes.” 
Oh. Sukuna liked that.
“I, uh,” you started, fumbling with your pockets before handing something over. “Found this.” 
Sukuna glanced your way finally. He couldn't help but laugh as he plucked the wallet from your hands. 
“Found it, huh?” 
“Mhm.” 
“Such a benevolent, pious thing. I would've kept it.” 
“Yeah, well. You're a dick. ‘Course you would.” 
“Where'd you find it?” 
“My pocket.” 
“No shit.” 
“Yeah. Weird.” 
The elevator doors dinged open, revealing the empty hall leading to the penthouse. He glanced down at the door before looking back down at you. 
“Have a drink with me.”
Your expression soured. 
Sukuna threw his arm against the doors to keep them open. “Coffee?” 
Your brows lifted, the creases smoothing from your face. “Coffee.” 
Sukuna's alpha bloomed with pleased content. He sidled up next to you and rested his broad hand on the small of your back, leading you down the hall. 
“With a bit of Baileys.”
“No Baileys.”
He let you try to sooth his stress while you waited for your favourite, poor-person coffee to brew. 
You straddled his thick thighs as you kissed at his neck. Your hands roamed and threaded through his gelled hair, your blunt nails dragged along his scalp, coaxing rumbling purrs out of your alpha.
“Shit,” he moaned, leaning back into your hands, digging his head into your digits and grumbling like an old dog. You hummed in sympathy, and gave him harsher scritches, making his knee bounce in double time like a dog getting the spot scratched.
You weren’t done, though. You licked at his neck’s scent gland and coaxed more of his natural musk to the surface to mix with yours–a classic way to get one’s partner to calm down. You were methodical as fuck about it, too, knowing how Sukuna’s stress abruptly blocked any good scents in favour of excreting foul, angry odors into the air when he was pissed. Or, sometimes, he’d shut down completely, the only scent coming from what clung to his skin and clothes. 
And so, he needed a little more TLC to get things flowing again, to make his body disarm and let the good vibes flow. 
You nipped the swollen spot lightly, eliciting a strangled growl from the man. “Too rough?” Your tongue pressed at the spot again, and pulled more of that deep purring out of him. “Maybe not.” 
“By all means, rough me up.” That was as close to a warning as you would get from a greedy bastard like Sukuna. He wanted you to bite harder, to break skin and set the wild tornado of a mating rut into motion. You were careful to avoid him when your unholy heats crashed down on you, but being in the presence of your estranged man when he was set off–well, it’d jumpstart your sex-crazed frenzy, too. 
“Raincheck,” you murmured. 
He huffed and rubbed circles in your hips before grabbing your ass and squeezing. “When's the last time–” 
The coffee maker sang a tune and you got off, saved from your warm, fuzzy marking daze. “Does it matter?”
Sukuna got up and stalked after you, rubbing the ache out of his shoulder. “Like it or not, we're stuck with our binding vow.” His chest pressed to your back, his arms slipping around your waist as he leaned down to nuzzle into your skin. “Mated for life.” He couldn't help the smile that branded into your neck. 
You cleared your throat and snatched up two mugs. “There're surgeries–”
“No.” 
“How do you take your coffee again?” Hah. You didn't even try to argue it.
Sukuna's ego boomed. His scent grew more dominating and demanding in tow. “You know how I like it. You know the way I like everything.”
You scoffed and slapped his hand away, the sweet, teasing omega that happily marked him up and scented him to high heaven gone, now replaced with your annoying, bratty self. Ugh. He loved it as much as he hated it.
“You used to be cuter,” Sukuna commented, quiet and breathy, so out of character. His hands retreated back to hold your waist instead of keeping you trapped against him. “What happened to–”
“You know what happened.” You sounded tired, too. Angry. But not at the Sukuna standing with you right then and there. 
Sukuna's old friend, unyielding frustration, bore down on him. He sucked his teeth and beat down the urge to snap, to yell and scream, claim it wasn't his fucking fault and that you never filled him in, so how could–
His forehead pressed against your shoulder. “I don't,” he sighed. “I don't fucking know, (Name). We lost our kid, I know that much, so what the fuck else is there?” 
For a moment, he thought he'd lost you again. He expected you to whirl around, throw a cup at his head and curse him to hell to start off another fight; instead, you slipped out of his hands gently, and replaced your warmth with a cup of coffee. 
“Come sit.” 
Sukuna complied. 
You tucked your legs up under you when you sat down. Your own mug was held snugly with both hands, yet your fingers fidgeted, twirling around whatever rings you had on while you thought of what to say. 
“So,” you started. “How much do you know?”
Sukuna leaned back and thought. “Uraume called. Said something was wrong.” He could remember their voice ringing in his ear, that usual, frigid demeanor exploding into something panicked and tortured as they tried to comfort you, order idiots around, and explain the situation. “They didn’t know what, but said you were bein’ taken to Ieiri. I met ‘em there, Gojo wouldn’t let me come in.” He sighed, the memories pricking his nerves. “Told me you miscarried, and–well, that’s more or less it.” 
You nodded a little, digesting the scraps of knowledge that’d been given to Sukuna. “I was alone,” you breathed. “I was–I’d been cramping. A lot. I thought–I didn't know–I just–I thought it was normal.” You cleared your throat, fidgeting more and only stilling when Sukuna's palm rested on your leg. You covered his hand with one of yours. “There was a lot of blood. I thought I was dying. Uraume and Yuuji took me to Ieiri.” 
Sukuna remembered that, too. He remembered catching sight of you just before his brother carried you away from him. It was hard to forget the sound of your wailing amidst all that red–that damned noise came from hell itself, from the burning, fetid pits of agony and despair and up through your beautiful voice. For something so foul to touch you was nothing but blasphemous.
Sukuna tried to follow you in, but that moron Gojo wouldn’t let him in, spouting some bullshit about how he’d make things worse. Needless to say, Sukuna snapped, and Ieiri suddenly had more than a mourning omega to deal with.
“I pinned it on you to cope. I didn’t know what else to do.” You spared a shy glance at him before staring down again. “...Uraume filled me in, though. You were dealing with so much shit. All that crap with the Zenins. And you didn’t even–you didn’t even know I was knocked up until I wasn’t.” You sighed and sipped your drink before setting it aside. “Guess it was easier to blame you for everything than it was to just accept I got unlucky.” 
“‘Unlucky’?” Sukuna repeated lowly, void of mirth for once.
You nodded. “Chromosome bullshit, garbage genetics, a shitty cervix. Coulda been anything.” Sukuna watched your expression shift from desolate to bitter. “And if you fuck up once and lose your pup, odds are it’ll happen again.”
“Says who?”
“Science. Doctors.”
“You really gonna take their word like that?” Your eyes met his, doey and expectant. “I'll gut ‘em myself if they say that shit next time you're knocked up.”
You looked a bit bashful then, looking away from him with pursed lips and glossy eyes. For a second, Sukuna thought you were about to snap and argue with him about how you vowed to never get pregnant again (which he'd indulge in), or maybe even bolt for the door (which he wouldn't allow), but instead, you grabbed the remote. 
“Tch. Don't say such stupid shit. It's annoying.” 
Sukuna could only grin to himself as you settled in beside him, tucking up against his side. Neither of you could swallow your pride enough to properly apologize for anything ever, but that wasn't necessarily needed–understanding was what was needed. Things had just become a little bit clearer. 
For once, the alpha found himself at ease. Sure, you had your petty and some less-than-petty spats, but there was a coil of contentment that stayed at the forefront of Sukuna's mind through it all. Now, he no longer fumed nor bristled, no longer wondered if you really belonged to him, no longer thought about how to trap you if he wanted to keep you around. 
Because you made more of an effort to see him, to call when you couldn't, to set his vicious wolf's heart at ease so he could rest soundly. He rested the most when you were so gracious as to curl up in those black, silken sheets with him, too.
Don't get too excited. It's just because we're mated; we'd go insane otherwise, Is how you rationalized it. And, honestly, it was cute to see you act so flippant and uncaring when Sukuna knew you were so the opposite. 
Little liar. Loves playing pretend. He gently tucked stray hairs behind your ear as you snoozed soundly beside him. It was unlike you to sleep in so late (“late” meaning past 6am), and it was unlike Sukuna to wake up before you, so it must have been kismet. 
Because this moment was the first in a long time where he got to touch you. Beyond the playful ass slaps and grabs at your hips, you never really let him feel you. Or did he just never try to touch you like this? Gently, just for the sake of feeling your skin and your warmth? 
Sukuna was a brutal man. He didn't often have a chance to be careful. If he'd had that kid, then he might've learned how; he could've learned not to throw glasses at skylines, not to lash out at his omega, not to expect you to still love you when he broke you. 
He brushed his thumb along your cheek and down to your jaw, admiring the soft skin and strong angle that led him to the curve of your chin, and your perfect lips. God, he wanted to kiss you. It'd been an eternity since he had a taste of you. Maybe if he was gentle–
I can do gentle. Sukuna shifted the slightest bit towards you until his nose lightly brushed against yours, until he felt your light breaths fan against his skin. Ah, why was his heart beating so fast now?
He did his best to ignore the way his pulse thundered in his ears when he brushed his lips against yours once more, before he kissed you softly. Gently. Perfectly. And he took his time parting. He had to savour the taste of your lips against his because who knew when he'd get to kiss you again? 
I love you, he heard echo in his memories when your lips parted. But he never heard himself reply. 
“Love you too, brat,” he murmured. “Don't you dare think otherwise.” 
Your eyes opened a moment later. “You mean that?” came your reply, just as light and whispered. Sukuna felt waves of heat come off your skin–were you blushing?
Crimson eyes flickered from your bashful look to the slight parting of your lips and back again. “Always.” Even though he never said it. But he let you get away with everything to show that love–credit card theft, cracking him upside the head with a bottle, abandoning him for months on end.
A soft ‘hm’ hummed through you. Your sleepy gaze melted from Sukuna’s, and down to his lips, too, while your own pursed, pensive. Thoughtful. Christ, you were really something else–just a single look from you had his mind reeling, his chest easing into a warmth so reminiscent of a campfire, the sort you both used to sit around when you’d bullied Sukuna into buying one for his too-big balcony. 
Back then, you were just “friends,” though the flirting and meaningful touches said otherwise. You were still a street doctor, introduced to him by Yuuji of all people, but you had more pep in your step, especially when you worked to try and swoon the hardened, deranged alpha you’d decided belonged to you. You’re mine, you said simply after shooting whatever whore the big, bad boss had hired for the night. The look in your eyes, cold and determined, got Sukuna achingly hard in an instant. He never wanted you to look at anyone else like that–your rage, your obsession, it could only ever be for him.
“‘M I still yours?” You still want me? You still love me? Am I still just for you?
You looked a little sentimental. A little sad, too, maybe. But maybe it was just the culmination of your fears and worries, your wants and desires finally breaking through your solemn being. 
“I'm a minimalist at heart. I've only got room for so much.”
“Don't tell me you're back on that Kondo Marie kick–” 
“But you're something I can't do without.” Yeah, I love you. I want you. I don't want much, but I want you. You're mine. “You bring me joy, or whatever the saying is. But I wanna beat the shit outta you sometimes for being a dumbass.” 
Sukuna laughed and nudged your nose with his–a small, primal gesture of fondness. “Yeah, yeah, I'm aware. Tch. You're gonna have to be careful--you're gonna send my old ass to an early grave if you keep up with all this fiery youth shit.”
“Then I can inherit your fortune,” you offered airily before kissing him teasingly. Sukuna growled when your small fangs dug into his bottom lip playfully. “That'd be nice.” 
“Hah. Everything's going to family–Yuuji, the old fart.” Sukuna pulled you in closer and purred as you complied. “You'd have to–”
“I'll marry you if that's what it takes,” you cooed, and Sukuna froze. You paused for a moment, too, before lifting yourself up to look down at his dumb face. “Oi.” You pat his cheek lightly but he scowled at you, half-cranky, half-defeated. “Eeeh? You mad?”
“Tch.”
“Awe, big alpha's mad.”
“Don't.” A command. A warning. One that had your subgender reeling and whimpering behind you, but your human side smiling, ready to mock. 
You slid on top of him, straddling his waist and splaying your hands out on his broad, solid chest. Sukuna still kept his gaze elsewhere. Honestly, you couldn't blame him--you were in a mood. 
“Oi,” you prodded, poking at his ridiculous pecs and tracing over the dark lines of his irezumi. “Hey. Don't pout.” But he grabbed your hands when your stupid fingers threatened to assault his nipples, and he continued to pout. “Come on, I said I'd marry you.” 
“Tch.” You've said that before. 
“I mean it.” 
“Tch.” You’ve said that before, too.
You leaned down, and nuzzled the hollow of his cheek while he grumbled and grumped. “You don't like the idea of breeding me anymore? You don't want me to yourself, all caught up in your bedsheets with you between my legs? Hm? You don't wanna fuck me through my heat, knock me up a few more times, make me bare your children for the world to see how I belong to Ryoumen Sukuna? You don't want me to be drenched in your scent–” 
You squeaked when your man flipped you around, pinning you before ripping off the sleep shorts keeping your skin from him. His rough fingers dove deep into your slicked up hole (apparently your long list of hypotheticals had worked you up into a soft, wet, pliant thing) and hurried to stretch you wide. 
“Such an annoying little shit,” Sukuna grumbled. And you laughed, lightly and so achingly genuinely through your fluttery mewls and moans. “If you try ‘n back out this time, I'll break your fucking legs and tie you down to the bed, you got that? I'm not gonna be so fucking nice this time.”
“Eh? You were being nice last–” you whined when his wet fingers jammed into your mouth. But you obediently sucked and bit at them, holding onto his muscled arm for leverage while he kicked off his bottoms and pressed his sweltering tip to your soft entrance. 
“You got no idea, princess.” Sukuna pushed in, groaning with ancient, cursed need as your insides welcomed him and obeyed, letting his uncomfortable size push you open. Seemed your body still remembered him. Wanted him as much as your stupid pretty mouth claimed. 
You were gasping, your molars chewing into his fingers as your missing piece slid back into place, filling you up until it hurt to breathe. Strong thighs clamped down against Sukuna’s sides as he dragged you down, forcing the last bits of his cock into your very depths, squeezing a reedy whine out of you, before he pulled out and slammed right back in again and again and again.
Your cry nearly sent him over the edge. It was a loud, bassy thing, something like a cello toppling or having its string plucked too hard by a callous touch–a sound Sukuna reveled in. You were the only partner he'd had that was like this, so demanding and bitchy, absolutely horrible and as poisonous as alphas were, and he loved it. He lived and died by your gospel, by the very life that thrummed underneath his touch.
And you promised to be all his. Sukuna could have everything, anything and anyone, and that apparently included trapping and claiming a god. One that only he prayed to. One that'd only smile upon him. One that only delivered to him divine blessings. 
What a divine gift.
He folded you in half with ease and blanketed your trembling body with his own. The fingers fucking into your mouth slipped out and down to your throat where they squeezed lightly; then, they traveled to the back of your neck, found your cute little nape, and squeezed. 
Your eyes rolled back as your body arched up into him. Words left you in some ancient tongue neither you nor Sukuna could decipher. But it was a language of love and pleasure, the sort that brought delicious submission coiling through your blood in offering to the lowly creature devouring your holiness. 
“Sukuna,” you choked out. Your fingers dug into his shoulder and fisted in his hair, pulling him closer to the old, scarred mark left there by him a decade ago. “‘Kuna, I need–” 
The boss laughed low, but with fluttery, manic high tones warped throughout. “Need me to bite you? Mark you mine again?” He taunted. His nails dug into your soft side as he fucked into you harder, lifting your waist up to meet his brutal angle as his base started to swell. “I wanna hear you say it–say you need it, you want it. Say you need me to fill your guts every fucking night. Say I'm the only one who can get you there. I'm the only one–” his other hand grabbed your nape harder, forcing your submission further, forcing your neck to the side to present it to him. 
Then, with a snarl, he added, “say ‘I do.’” 
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you murmured those very words into his ear. 
I do. 
Sukuna's heart howled with the beast living inside him. Blood flooded his mouth when he tore into your shoulder, digging deeper than needed to brand you his again just before his pulsing knot squeezed into you and locked into place, stilling his wild rampage and holding you hostage beneath his hulking body. 
You shifted and writhed against him, so obviously overwhelmed by such an archaic, crazed union–your omega must have been going wild, willing you to fight against the monster pouring his seed into you, locking you in place, taking away your autonomy. But a short, rough warning growl settled your inner self the slightest bit and straightened out your thoughts enough for your human pettiness to urge you, too, to sink teeth into flesh and mark up your alpha to complete the re-bonding. 
Good boy. Sukuna's hips rutted against you in light pulses, attempting to jam his knot further into you to ensure you'd take everything he so graciously offered you. But every little move your bodies made together tore more hot strings of cum out of him and into your core. Apparently an eternity of not having you was culminating into this one moment. 
You were the one to let go first. You collapsed onto your back with a loud sigh, and the crushing constriction of your thighs laxed just slightly. 
“Fuck,” you gasped, wholly content and pleased. Your hand wiggled between your bodies and rested on the still-inflating curve that your partner had oh-so loving built out of cum and obsessive dedication. “That's gonna make a mess.” 
Good. Sukuna's chainsaw purr reverberated against your bloodied skin. He chewed into you further and relished in the taste and smell of you, the way it mingled with his own scent of existence and made him feel so irrevocably whole. 
Your fingers laced through his hair as you laughed. “Oi, let go already. Your knot's not gonna go down for like thirty minutes. I'm not going anywhere.” 
Your mate obliged, dislodging his chunky fangs from you and lapping at the wound dutifully until the bleeding staunched. Next, he got to work leaving an array of dark hickies and light bites all over your neck and shoulder, just in case the gnarly bite mark wasn't enough to ward off idiots who thought they had a chance with you. He grumbled at the mere idea of it. 
“So?” You cooed, running your hands up and down his muscled shoulders. “What do we do for half an hour?”
Sukuna scoffed. He tried to pull out just a bit, just to see if he was seriously locked in there, and you spat a vile hiss his way, your nails digging into him at the same time. And, fuck, you were tight–
“Fuck.” He didn't think this through.
-- DRABBLES --
“You're dumb as fuck, you know that?” 
“Ah, such romantic words to hear from my wife.”
“Husband, jackass.” 
Sukuna managed to open his eyes through the pounding of his head. God, he felt like shit. But that probably came with the territory of getting shot point-blank before bailing out of a moving car on the highway. Honestly, he was lucky only one car hit him when he hit the pavement. 
Still, it was bad enough to warrant him a ticket to the hospital. Uraume worked behind the scenes, ensuring their boss got a private room and that the police would stay the fuck away if they knew what was good for them, and it all somehow worked out. Uraume was definitely a sorcerer of sorts.
“Can you save it for home? Fucking hell,” Sukuna groaned, letting his eyes fall shut again. “Too tired to argue.” 
“That's a first,” You huffed, and marched up to his side, sitting down in the cozy seat waiting for you. Your careful touch prodded at his hand gently, as if assessing the damage, guestimating if you could hold his hand without hurting him, but he made the choice for you. He caught your hand weakly, and you held him safe with both of yours. 
“Missed you,” he grumbled, squeezing back lamely. “Have fun on the trip at least?”
“Yeah, until I heard what happened.” You sighed, watery and warbled. “I shouldn't have left. You're too stupid to survive alone.”
Sukuna laughed, then coughed. He felt you tense. “F-Fuck you, little shit. I'm fine.”
“You got shot.”
“Been shot before.”
“Jumped out of a car.”
“I've jumped outta faster.”
“Then got hit by another car.”
“That was a first.”
You sighed to fight back either a sob or ill-placed laughter, or maybe both. “This is so fucking ridiculous. Never make me take a vacation again. I can't be off fucking around in Hawaii when my baby daddy's getting hit like it's GTA.” 
“Christ, I already–” he paused, though, and cracked an eye open to look at you. “What did you…” 
He lost his words when he saw you. Your skin glowed in a way he hadn't had the luxury to see before. Your face looked rounder, too, like you'd put on a little bit of weight since you'd been gone. But your scent–your usual sweet, full-bodied scent of flowery coffee was cranked up to a trillion. If Sukuna's nose wasn't busted, he would've noticed the way it filled up the room, and he might've noticed how his own scent rose to meet it in greeting. Something strange was happening. 
“Oh. Right. Uh…” you cleared your throat and hastily tucked some hair behind your ear. You looked a little bit lost for words too, in all honesty. “I’m pregn–”
Sukuna sat up. You barked at him to lay down, your voice rising a few octaves when something that was probably important dislodged from his wrist as he reached forward when you stood. And you froze when his palm pressed against your stomach–a natural, maternal thing to do. Sukuna remembered when he caught your cat for you when she was trying to dart out the door whilst pregnant, and how she froze dead in her tracks when his hand caught her by her kitten-filled stomach, and let him carry her back inside. 
But this was different. This wasn’t his partner’s cat’s kittens he was feeling, it was yours. His. A shared little nugget doing its best to grow big for its expectant mama–and now expectant papa. 
“How long?” Sukuna rasped. When did his throat get so dry? 
“Two months. Ish.” You rested your hands over his again despite the awkward angle he caught you at. “I didn’t know until last week. I tried to call, but–” You got obliterated and couldn’t answer your phone.
“I get it. Don’t gotta explain.” Sukuna gazed at your stomach a moment longer with droopy, half-lidded eyes before looking up at you as nurses burst into the room. “You’re moving in.”
And for once, you didn’t argue. 
“Dude, you guys can't fuck when he's pregnant! You'll crush the baby like a tin can!” 
You snorted and tried to cover your mouth as your tea shot out your nose. You coughed and wheezed, turning away and waving at the brothers in a desperate plea for them to not look and continue their petty argument.
Sukuna, caught between the urge to mock you and kick the shit out of his annoying little fucknut brother, sighed and rubbed his face before handing you his fancy handkerchief he kept tucked in the breast of his jacket for nothing but looks. These days, though, the damn thing had been paying its dues. 
“You think I'm gonna listen to a fuckin’ virgin about this kinda shit?” Sukuna quipped back as he watched you clean up before trying to take a sip of your drink again. 
“Hey, man, I'm just saying. Your dick is like a third leg.” 
You slammed your hand down on the table after spitting a mouthful of tea back into your cup. “Yuuji. Please. Why do you even know that?” 
Yuuji pouted and scooted closer to you under the kotatsu. “Wh--we're brothers! It's not even that weird!” 
“It's weird as shit,” Sukuna offered as he reached out to rub your back. 
“So not weird.” His honeyed eyes locked onto the small affection the older showed you. “Man, so not fair you guys are ganging up on me now that you're, like, a thing,” Yuuji whined and let his arms and chest flop across the table like a petulant child. 
Sukuna smirked. “Jealous?”
You grumbled. “Sukuna. Don't start.”
Yuuji's ears turned bright red. “Jea–what?! No! I like girls like Jennifer Lawrence, not--I don't–”
“N'awe, little pup's tryna cope with losing.” Sukuna grinned wildly when Yuuji's head snapped up, pinning a deadly stare onto the older alpha. “Oh? Finally grow a pair?” 
“Sukuna,” you warned again.
“You better shut it, dude,” Yuuji threatened next, and you knew it was a lost cause; two alpha brothers, both incredibly competitive, both pining for the same omega, spelled disaster. 
Your partner laughed that familiar, ugly laugh–the sort that was too genuine and sounded borderline insane. “Or what? You gonna make me cry–” 
Yuuji launched over the table in an instant, tackling his brother to the ground with a bratty snarl. You watched on, unimpressed, waiting for any signs of their wrestling turning into a serious fight, but it never came. So, you enjoyed it a bit. It wasn't everyday the two idiots played nice. 
You rested your hands on your curved stomach while the two growled and snarled half-heartedly in their dumb attempt to subdue the other. Sukuna could've won in an instant, you both knew that, but he'd let Yuuji think he had a fighting chance for a little bit. It was part of the fun for him, letting his little brother gnaw on him like it'd do anything, letting him try to use his horrible jiu-jitsu skills on his older, bigger brother. It reminded you of–
“Oh,” you peeped when a rowdy kick jostled your hand. It didn't come from the boys, no, it came from the tiny tot inside you. 
The boys froze and stared at you.
“Huh? What's ‘oh'?” Yuuji asked through his panting and straining. Sukuna had him in a headlock, one of his hands giving a brutal noogie to the younger's head. 
“No, just–I think she kicked. Maybe not, I don't–” but your expression brightened with delight when another little throw hit your hand. 
“No shit?” Sukuna grinned, waves of excited alpha scent rolling off of him. He face-shoved Yuuji away before sidling up next to you and pressing his palm against your stomach. You guided his touch to rest over the kicky hotspot, and sure enough–
Thump. Thump.
“Two kicks for your old man, hey?” Sukuna hummed, looking so damn triumphant. 
“Hey, hey, I wanna feel!” Yuuji scrambled over like a nightmare and wiggled up on your other side, pointedly ignoring the snarl Sukuna sent his way. “Come on, it's my niece, chill out.”
Sukuna growled again, but you pulled his hand off to let Yuuji feel the little life making herself known. His eyes, too, lit up when those tiny thwacks battered his palm. 
You looked up at Sukuna dreamily, making the other's ticked expression smooth down into just mildly-annoyed; if your omega wasn't threatened, then he wasn't going to threaten. Sukuna didn't think Yuuji would hurt you, absolutely not, but anyone who came near you, or so much as accidentally bumped into you, pissed Sukuna off, sending his over-protective instincts into overdrive. He always had to rely on you to know when not to react.
“That's so cool!” Yuuji squeaked. “She's seriously in there!” 
“Where the fuck else would she be,” Sukuna grumped.
“Don't ruin his fun, Sukuna.” 
“Yeah, don’t ruin my fun!” 
“Yuuji’s banned from the house.”
“WH–HEY!!”
“Sukuna.”
“Heh.”
“What about gramps, then?” 
Sukuna paused. His heart stopped for a long, long moment. 
“What about him?” He answered, nonchalantly as possible. “Old fuck cut me off years ago.”
“He still cares,” Yuuji offered with a shrug. “And I told him about the pup ‘n everything.”
Sukuna frowned. “Yuuji–”
“You seriously think he doesn't give a shit? Dude, be real, the guy raised us.” 
“That's generous.” 
“Didn't you say you were leaving everything to Yuuji and ‘the old fart’ originally?” You cooed, unhelpful as ever. 
Carmine eyes found yours. “...If he actually wants to meet her–” 
“Awesome, I’ll let him know!” 
“Oi, runt–”
But Yuuji jumped up and pulled his phone out, leaving Sukuna to wonder what he’d just gotten himself into while you laughed at his misery. 
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salemoleander · 1 year
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"My teeth hurt," Martyn says.
He and Scott are on the deck, enjoying the morning sun before it has the chance to get humid; Scott is busy crafting sugarcane into paper while Martyn is (ostensibly) trying to carve a bowl.
"What, like- cavities? We've only been here for a few days, and I know you're eating the same fish and dried kelp as me." Scott pauses, holding a fresh sheaf of paper. "-and if you're not, and you've been holding sweets out on me, I'll be pissed."
Martyn huffs a laugh, then grimaces when pain shoots up through his sinuses. Ambling over to the table, he half-sits, half-leans on the back of one of their deck chairs.
"Nah, same food as you. Man, I don't know what I did. TNT to the face carry over, d'you reckon?"
He grins, and Scott blanches. Well, shit.
"Alright, what's wrong with my mouth?" Martyn asks, stress rising when Scott doesn't answer. "I've still got teeth, right?"
Scott nods sharply. He wavers on an answer for a moment before sighing. "Yeah. You've just got some new ones, seems like."
‐---------------------------------------------------------------------
The hard part of suddenly having shark teeth, Martyn quickly discovers, is that they are not particularly designed for beings with lips, and certainly not ones that talk.
He tells Scott this, nursing several sore spots on his lips and tongue.
"Have you considered talking less?"
"Oh, screw you."
Scott rolls his eyes, and they go back to sorting through chests in companionable silence. Waves gently lap against the edge of their island, while bamboo canes creak and shift. After a few minutes Scott says, "In the- last time. I remember being relieved, a bit, that even though Cleo and I chose each other-"
"Exactly the conversation I wanted to have," Martyn deadpans.
"Would you shut up? Honestly." Scott smiles, but his jaw flexes as he does and Martyn resolves to shut up and let him say this, whatever it is. At least for the next ten or fifteen seconds. Probably.
"Anyways. I was a tiny bit relieved that I was paired with Pearl, because she was human. And I'd seen how it was for BigB getting canine features and Joel getting whatever the hell from Etho, and you, y'know..."
"Rotting?"
"Eugh. Yeah." Scott looks through their fence-lattice walls and out to the water. "But Pearl didn't stay human."
Martyn raises an eyebrow. (For effect. If Scott is doing a dramatic monologue towards the ocean, Martyn at least gets to make faces, whether or not Scott sees him. Them's the rules.)
"She got kind of... wolf-y? Or more accurately, the game made her wolfy. Not like Ren, not nearly that elegant a combination."
Scott's voice is bitter, an edge to it that Martyn associates with fireworks going off too-close by. "I woke up one morning and my teeth were sharp and there were too many for my mouth. And it hurt, and the worst part was knowing this wouldn't be happening if we'd just done what the game wanted."
Blinking, Martyn says, "Oh." Brilliant. Nailed the response, there.
"I just wanted to tell you. That it might- those might be my fault, because it seems like whatever runs this game doesn't like me very much. There's a reason I set up alone out here."
Martyn- ignoring the ache from his jaw and the kernel of self-interest that tells him to get while the getting is good- scoffs. "None of that, thank you! I don't care if bloody Herobrine has it out for you, we're sticking together."
Relief washes over Scott's face. Martyn adds, "If whoever runs this circus thinks unlimited knives for teeth is a punishment, they're mad."
"Clearly! You were already enough of a menace." Released from whatever tension kept him still, Scott reaches over to flip another chest lid up and starts rifling through. "It's like trying to annoy Joel by giving him too many TNT minecarts."
Martyn snorts. "Right! Once my mouth gets the memo about where everything is now I'll be doing fine- probably better than I was before! A supernatural entity trying to tell me who I can be friends with? C'mon, nothing that stupid is busting the Mean Gills up."
He almost believes it.
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pedroshotwifey · 8 months
Text
Joel Fucking Miller
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Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (Can be pictured as either HBO or Video Game version)
Word Count: 8.1k
Tags/Warnings: NO use of Y/N, Smut with a lil garnish of angst, kinda mean Joel, Borderline Dark!Joel, but consent is given at a point, one singular spank, rough piv sex, exhibition kink, slight humiliation/degradation, possessive behavior, enemies to lovers-ish?, reader is a menace but we love her, spit kink, anal play, this is pure filth and I'm not sorry
Summary: You and Joel Miller have been sworn enemies from the very start, both of you at each other’s other's throats since the first glance. What he can't know is that you have been harboring a stubborn crush on him this whole time---It’s not until he has you up against a wall that you realize he feels the same way.
A/N: Now that I have all of my one-shots posted, I'm going to start posting my ongoing stories as well as some new works. I'm almost finished with the Frankie Sex Pollen fic so that will be posted sometime this week. I will also be working on creating both a masterlist and a recommendation list, so hopefully that should be done soon too. Thanks for reading!
***
Today has been a shitty fucking day—no pun intended. 
Not to say every day isn’t shitty here in the QZ, but this one really takes the cake. To start your fabulous day, you woke up an hour late, making you one of the last people in line to pick up jobs. When you got to the assigning station, you found that you had been left with two options for the week: janitorial service at one of the mess halls, and sewer duty—where you literally have to shovel shit. The only card left for the mess hall was an all-day shift. You took them both.
That's why you find yourself here now, below the city, finishing up sewer duty, covered head to toe in stench and sweat even though it’s the middle of winter. You’re pretty sure you are the last one down here; it’s been a while since you saw or heard anyone else. You aren’t surprised. You’re used to being the only one who cares enough to actually finish whatever job you were tasked with that day, no matter how repulsive it may be. 
You don't take pride in much, but you are willing to admit that you admire that quality about yourself. You are a damn hard worker and you aren’t afraid to show it. You have no idea where it stems from, maybe your stubbornness, or possibly your inner perfectionist. Whatever it is, you find yourself often wishing that more people would have the same mindset. God knows it would make your life easier at the very least. In the time you have spent in the Boston QZ, you have only had the pleasure—or maybe you should say displeasure—of meeting one other like-minded person. 
You became acquainted with Joel Miller within the first day of being in the QZ, which was about three years ago now. The first glance you got of him was as you were being hauled through the gates, lucky enough to have not been shot on the spot when a couple of FEDRA officers caught you hiding out in the woods. Your eyes met his before they met anyone else's, and he’d held your gaze, his expression anything but welcome, as if he were trying to evaluate you with one look. 
By the looks of it, he had to be at least a couple of decades older than you, but that didn’t stop the heat that started to simmer between your legs at the first glance you got of him. When his eyes didn't leave yours, you took it as a challenge and forced yourself to keep your gaze on him until he was completely out of sight. You knew what you were doing, and so did he, both of you deciding on the spot that you would be enemies until one of you either died or left. 
Sure, you knew that it probably wasn't the best idea to piss people off before you made any allies, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. From the first second you saw that man, you knew that one way or the other—one of them being a heated feeling you chose to ignore—he would be trouble. As per usual, you were right. If you didn't know any better, you would have said that he was dead-set on following you around, bumping into you at almost every job you took. At first, you had been convinced that he had been doing just that.
 The first couple of times it happened you considered it some stupid coincidence, some twisted kind of unluckiness. Granted, it wasn't every time, but it was more often than not, and that was more than enough for you. By the fifth or sixth time out of ten, you waited until the very end of the shift, until it was only Joel and yourself left working. You kept a close eye on him, and as soon as he started wrapping up, you cornered him. That had been the first time that you had ever actually spoken to each other instead of tossing nasty glances back and forth. 
You had immediately gone to work with your rushed interrogation, demanding him to tell you why he was following you, to tell you what his problem was. The most frustrating part of the whole ordeal was the way he had sat back, leaning on one leg with his arms crossed, his expression bored as he waited for you to finish. He said nothing until he was positive that you had nothing more to say. 
“I ain't followin’ you, kid,'' he had said, his voice deep and more pleasant than you would have liked it to be. His tone was hard, as you had expected it would be, but the tangy southern drawl and depth of his voice took you off guard, an unwelcome heat suddenly forming between your legs—which only pissed you off more. 
The stone-cold look in his too-pretty eyes only worsened the feeling, and suddenly you found that you weren't able to speak; you didn't even know what you had come up to say at this point.  “Don’t fuckin’ bother me again,” he muttered and pushed past you before you could realize you had been staring.
***
“You just gonna fuckin’ stand there all day?” A much too familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts and back into reality. Speak of the fucking devil. 
“Just finishing up, Miller,” you spit, not bothering to look in his direction. You can hear him start to walk up to you but you ignore it, opting instead to actually finish what you had been doing. It only takes a few more seconds, and by that time, you can practically feel Joel staring a hole into your back, no more than a few feet behind you now. 
He doesn't move, so you continue to ignore him and start walking to the ladder so you can get out of this literal shit hole. You only make it a few steps before you realize that he is moving with you, following at the same distance he had stopped at before. Your jaw ticks as you spin around on your heel, so suddenly that Joel almost knocks into you.
“Is there something I can help you with?” you ask him as sweetly as you can manage, the fire in your eyes contradicting your tone. His own eyes narrow as he takes a step back, crossing his arms in his usual fashion. 
“Maybe you should learn how to help yourself first before you go offerin’ it to other people, princess.” He says the name as an insult, and you have to bare your teeth to keep your composure. 
“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean, old man?” You ask him, taking a step toward him. He doesn't back away this time, instead taking a step toward you in reciprocation. The two of you lock gazes and stare at each other for what could have been ten seconds or ten days before Joel breaks the trance and shoves past you instead of answering. 
You just stand there and let him climb the ladder to the street above you. You can see right through him, the asshole wants a reaction, and you're not going to grant him that satisfaction—not this time anyway. 
You wait for a few minutes until you can be sure that he's long gone before you grit your teeth and turn on your heel, walking to the ladder and hoisting yourself up. As you reach the surface you catch a whiff of yourself and scrunch your nose. You need a fucking shower.
***
The next day, you wake up in a sour mood, already dreading today's job—janitorial services. At least it's not scooping shit this time. You’re the first one there, as per usual. The hall is a mess after breakfast and you take a deep breath as you think about the fact that even after you scrub it spotless, it will be trashed again by the end of lunch and then again after dinner.
To top it all off, it's ridiculously cold in the room, the fire lit in the back of it not doing much to increase the temperature. You look down at your white cotton t-shirt under your flannel and find yourself wishing you had put a thicker undershirt on.
There aren't many people working with you on the first shift, only the usual other three this morning, not that you're complaining of course, it just means fewer people to get in your way. You keep your eyes to yourself most of the time, only looking at someone if they address you to ask for help or to comment on something. Before you know it, lunch has come and gone and you are preparing for dinner. 
You notice halfway through that time that your friend is working the second shift, and she approaches you so you can work together for the rest of the time, though she only has the after-lunch shift. Rachel is a hard worker for the most part, though she likes to slack off a lot, but you appreciate the help while you have it. The two of you gossip and joke quietly until it's time for her to leave and time for you to sit back and wait for the dinner crowd to flood in.
***
It feels like a week has passed by the time the last person clears out after dinner, and you breathe a sigh of relief—you’re so close to getting back to your apartment and into your welcoming bed. You immediately get to work on sweeping up the trash that collected underneath the tables, eager to get out of here. 
There are only two other people working with you this shift, which is weird because FEDRA usually has at least four people on each job, but you brush it off. They seemed to know each other and they blab amongst themselves as they work. At least the couple seemed like they were in the same mindset when it came to getting this job done, so you didn’t mind the fact that you are missing a crew member. 
Halfway through your sweeping, you hear the door slam open, startling you and the couple that is now busy with taking leftover dishes into the kitchen. The chill that sweeps through the large room makes you assume it was just a gust of wind, probably blowing snow into the doorway. 
Great, something else to clean, you think as you huff an annoyed breath. 
When you turn to face the sound though, you find yourself wishing that the problem had been snow, but of course, when did anything ever go your way? The supposed gust of wind is actually Joel fucking Miller.
Your mood immediately sours and you have to fight not to roll your eyes as you watch him slink into the room and follow the couple into the kitchen. You hear the girl inform him that he was late—as if he didn’t know, or care for that matter. He only grunts in response. You don’t bother to stop your eyes from rolling to the back of your head. If Joel sees it, he doesn't say anything. 
***
An hour later, Joel hasn’t bothered you, much to your relief. The only time you have to look up from your work is when the couple from earlier bids you farewell before they walk out the door. There is nothing left to do but scrub the tables, which you are doing now. 
You only have two to go, and then you’re free for the rest of the night. Now that you're the only one left, the room is almost eerily silent, the only sound being the drip of water as you dip your sponge into the bucket and wring it out. After the table you are working on is thoroughly cleaned, you move on to the last one. It sits right next to the busted window, and you shiver as you walk past it. 
“Cold, sweetheart?” The baritone voice sounding from behind you just about causes you to jump out of your skin, the bucket of water in your grasp suddenly spilling over your front. Of course, it was a huge fucking bucket, so it was enough water to coat almost your entire body. 
The white t-shirt you have on under your thick flannel is soaked through so that it’s practically transparent. Dropping the now empty tub to the floor with a loud clang, you swivel on your heel to face Joel, who is leaning against the wall to his right, arms crossed.
 If he sees the fire in your eyes, he ignores it as he smirks at you, obviously humored by your reaction—and likely by the fact that he can see your bra. Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, every expletive or reprimand that comes to mind doesn’t seem to cover what you want to say. 
As you stand there soaked in dirty, soapy water, you find that you can do nothing but stare. Your gaze is stuck on the man still standing in front of you, not a twinge of empathy in his own, which he has trained on you in return. You have no idea how long the two of you stay rooted to the same spots, staring each other down, but it must have been at least a few minutes because you can feel your body start to involuntarily shiver as your drenched form begins to freeze. 
Of fucking course you had to have been standing right next to the broken, half-assed boarded-up window, and not by the fire that still rages into the chimney on the other side of the room. 
The cool air sweeping in seems to trap you in its frigid grasp, threatening to turn the grayish liquid that covers you into ice. You can't help it as you finally move, bringing your arms up to cross over your chest in a feeble attempt to warm your rapidly cooling body and cover your exposed undergarment. You flinch as your arm presses the freezing fabric closer to your skin.
The action seems to break the invisible spell that had set over the two of you because Joel takes that as his queue to take a step back off the wall and lift his chin. The movement makes him look bigger and you have to lift your own to look into his eyes again. You can only hope he sees the fury that burns on your own. If looks could kill, he would be dead on the floor right now. 
“You’re fucking joking,” you are the first to break the silence. The quiver in your voice would be embarrassing if not for the fact that it was placed there out of anger. The asshole who put it there must know it too because you can see the way he swallows as if trying to rid himself of his guilt, though if that’s what he is feeling, he doesn’t show it any other way. 
You can expect that the action will be the only sign of such a thing—if Joel Miller doesn't want to feel a certain way, he doesn’t, simple as that. You have never once met a man more rude, nor stubborn as the one currently in front of you.  
“Didn’t realize I was bein’ funny,” he says, straight-faced with that stupid southern drawl that you have come to despise. You don’t reply as you continue to stare daggers at him, and you can't tell what’s making you shake more at this point—the layer of fucking ice about to coat your body, or the unmatched rage that brews in your mind.
 Right now, you would place your bets on the rage, considering it’s actually starting to warm you up. The sight of Joel, arms crossed to mimic your own, still staring down at you like he's some fucking god, only fuels the feeling. Sighing quietly, your eyes shut as you try to calm yourself down before you say something you would really regret. It only takes a few seconds until you speak again, which might not have been long enough, truthfully speaking. 
“That was pretty fucking shitty, even for you, Miller.” You manage to get the sentence out through gritted teeth, but it sounds strained. Anyone would agree that it sounds like you are trying your best to contain yourself, though it’s obviously a task you are struggling with. He says nothing, and his body gives nothing away, so you speak again. He knew exactly what was going to happen if he snuck up on you like that, and he probably didn’t even give it a second thought.
“I mean really, how fucking immature can you be? You really thought scaring me while I was holding a tub of dirty water was the best way to get my attention?” Your mouth starts to let words out before you can even think about what threatens to escape, and there is nothing you can really do but allow it to happen. 
Your lips are moving far too quickly for your brain to comprehend at this point, your anger completely taking over. As hard as it can be to hold yourself back from an argument sometimes, you always managed—but this was the last fucking straw. 
“And why the fuck are you even here? You obviously don’t have anything left to do.” Your voice is quickly raising but you doubt you could do anything about that even if you wanted to right now. Of course, it doesn’t matter how loud you get, you could probably scream right in his face, it never seems to affect him.
“Seemed lonely,” he says simply, shrugging and shifting off of the wall. He looks at your bewildered expression and decides it would somehow make it better if he elaborated, though you both know that he only does it to dig further under your skin. 
“Never got anyone around, s’ all. Too fuckin’ stubborn n’ self-absorbed to make any friends.” His tone is condescending and nonchalant at the same time, like he is both stating a fact and trying to beat you down. You continue to stare at him as he finishes. This is a whole new level, one you wouldn’t even have assumed Joel would ever jump to. 
You’ll admit it, he’s managed to find one of your most delicate insecurities, and he knows it, too.  Even before the outbreak, you always had trouble making friends, your anxiety and general mistrust always got in the way. Every time you thought you were getting close to someone, you would push them away. It was your biggest fear, being betrayed by someone close to you—a worse fear, you decided, than being alone. 
To this day, you have only ever let one person really get to know you. When you met Rachel during your first week in the QZ, she showed you a sort of open kindness that let you know she was a good one. You knew then, and you know now, that she would never do anything to hurt you in any way. 
In the time that you've gotten to know her, she’s become the best friend you’ve ever had, and the only one you wanted. But she is only one person after all, and she can’t spend all of her time with you, so you find yourself on your own most of the time—and of course, Joel Miller, of all people, would pick up on it. 
“You are such an asshole, Joel,” you spew out after a moment. “And you have the audacity to call me lonely?” You can't help the tears that start to blur your vision, so you ignore them as you continue to rant, your hands now flying wildly. The pit of insecurity in your stomach is starting to grow to the point where you feel like it will swallow you whole. 
“You act like you’re so much fucking better than me! Who do you have?” Through your watering eyes, you can see the way Joel flinches slightly, and as much as it pleases you that you seem to have finally found a soft spot, it also eggs you on. You recognize it and think to yourself that he's a fucking idiot for pointing out the fact that you don’t have anyone in your corner when he has the same exact problem. 
“Huh? You say I'm alone, and maybe I am, but I’ve never seen you with anybody.” Your vision starts to clear as you feel hot tears begin to streak down your already-soaked cheeks, allowing you to see the deep scowl set on Joel's face. It almost scares you how mad he looks, but it's too late to back down now. 
You stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to say something, but it never comes. His silence only encourages you, and you know you probably seem immature as you continue to insult him, but it gets pushed to the back of your mind as you quickly realize it’s the least of your worries right now. Your tears are streaming freely at this point, your breaking point finally has been reached. The words are coming out faster than you care to stop them. 
“You have no fucking friends, Joel,” you spit out. That one definitely struck a nerve, and you watch as he takes a step towards you, his face giving you a warning expression as if he already knows what you are going to say next. You know his history, and you know it's a bad idea, you know it is, but you say it anyway.
“You have no friends…” You pause, your brain subconsciously trying to talk you out of what you’re about to do. Of course, you don't listen. “...and you have no fucking famil-” you get cut off as Joels hand makes contact with your throat, his grip crushing your windpipe as he pushes you back until you hit the wall and lifts you onto your toes so you are looking into his rage-filled eyes.
He says nothing for a moment as he lets you struggle in his firm grasp, watching you writhe and try to gulp in air. The panic that courses through your body is almost paralyzing, sending a hot flash throughout your entire body as your brain catches up with what's happening. 
You find yourself panicking even more when you realize that fear isn’t the only thing your senses seem to be overwhelmed with as his hand tightens around your neck. The wetness beginning to gather in your panties is suddenly the biggest problem you are faced with, an unwelcome feeling or arousal suddenly making itself known. 
Everything seems to be happening in slow motion as you feel your hands start to claw at the one wrapped around your neck, no doubt leaving raised scratch marks across his wrist. The man doesn't wince or falter though, as you struggle to try to pry his hand away. You can feel your mouth opening and closing, though you’re unsure of what you are trying to say. You suspect it's something along the lines of “Please”, but no sound comes out. 
Eventually, after you realize that nothing is going to come from your struggle, you let your body fall limp, the only movement left is the tears that still crawl tauntingly down your cheeks. Though some of them may still be from the anger that had overcome you before you felt his large palm on your throat, most of them are now evidence of your shame. 
Logically, you reason that there is no way for him to know what kind of response his aggressive actions pulled from you, but you can't help but feel like somehow, he can see right through you. 
Upon seeing you submit, Joel lifts you more until you are close enough to feel his hot breath fan across your face. He loosens his grip enough so that you are allowed to catch a breath, but not enough for you to fall away from him. He starts to lower his arm, letting your feet hit the ground, but he leans his body down with your own so that his face stays less than an inch away from your own the entire time. 
You know that realistically, he only had you in the air for a few seconds, but it felt like an hour with the fear—and unexpected lust—that was coursing through your veins. Though you are still trembling with the silent threat he delivered, you seem to be able to calm down a little as his hand loosens and slides around to the back of your neck, only holding you in place. 
You stare into his eyes because you have nowhere else to look, and are almost surprised to see the array of emotions on display. You see anger, impatience, annoyance, a hint of restraint, but the one that seems to dominate them all is the one that takes you aback the most. You see in his eyes, what must be a reflection of your own. 
Your mouth drops open again as you begin to place the look of longing and desire that burns in Joel's gaze as he stares you down, his mouth just centimeters from your own. You take a chance and allow yourself to look down at the way his lips almost brush yours, his own mouth parted as you both try to calm your ragged breathing. 
You have no idea why you suddenly feel this way—well, you do, you just refuse to admit it. You hate his fucking guts because he is the only man that has made you feel something since before the outbreak. Every time you look at him, it is evidence that you are still capable of letting your guard down, that you are still weak. 
You promised yourself the first time you understood what the potential problem with Joel Miller could be, that you wouldn’t allow it to become one. But this god-damned man makes it so fucking hard to keep that in check when he is staring at you like he wants to ruin you. 
You feel his hand tighten around you again, and you snap your eyes back up to his, suddenly blushing as you realize that you have been staring at his lips for far too long. For once, you are at a loss for words, you have no idea what to say that might save your ass from looking like you had been doing exactly what you had. Thankfully, you don't have to wonder for long because Joel cuts right back to the chase, seemingly shaking himself out of his own thoughts as he speaks again. 
“You want to try that again, little girl?” Fuck. How the fuck are you supposed to ignore the pit forming in your stomach when he says shit like that? You are too caught up in thinking of a response to answer him immediately, and he clearly doesn’t appreciate that as he shifts his position, pushing you back further into the wall behind you. 
When he moves, you realize that one of his legs is slotted between your own, and your eyes widen as you feel how close his thigh is to your center—one little movement and you will give yourself away. You must be dripping at this point, and if he's not close enough to feel the heat coming off your cunt from where he stands right now, he will be if he moves any closer. 
Steeling yourself, you opt not to speak as you bring your hands back up to grasp at his wrist again. Joel watches as you struggle to get a grip before he growls and uses his free hand to grab both of yours and place them on the wall above your head. Your eyes somehow widen even more and you want to shrivel up into a ball as you feel the blood rush to your cheeks.
You need to move now. You can't let this man see what he does to you, the way your body reacts to the way he so easily dominates you. You know that you have no time to plan anything out, so you do the first thing that comes to mind—you try to tug your hands out of his grip and you lunge to the side. 
You’re not sure why you even attempt it, you know that it won't get you anywhere, but you do it anyway. Of course, he overpowers you once again, and nothing changes but his grip, both of his hands tightening as he leans in even closer to you. The new position causes his thigh to crush into your throbbing clit, and before you can stop it, a whimper breaks through your lips.
Nothing is said for a moment as you stare at Joel with shame, and him at you with a newfound amusement. You can feel yourself melting on the spot, and you let your head hang in humiliation, your eyes trained on the ground next to Joel, who is now smirking as he stares back at you. You feel his thigh crush into you again, deliberately this time, and you have to bite your lip and close your eyes in concentration so as to not give away any more sounds. 
You hear Joel chuckle darkly above you, and the sound goes straight to your pussy. How are you supposed to resist this man when he sounds like that, when the rough denim of his jeans is rubbing you in all the right places as he begins to rock his thigh back and forth, making you bite your lip even harder. The hand on your neck suddenly releases its grip and you feel his thumb come to your mouth, tugging your bottom lip until it falls away from the punishing bite of your teeth. 
“C’mon now, princess,” you hear Joel speak again and you can't help but moan softly as he sets his hand on your hip, starting to guide you across his firm thigh. 
“You’ve given yourself away now, you ain’t gonna get outta this one.” His tone is taunting as he presses down on your hip, bringing you down harder against him. 
The pressure on your clit is almost overwhelming with pleasure, and you find yourself moving on your own, beginning to chase the orgasm that has suddenly come within your grasp. You can’t help it with the way your wet jeans rub you just right and the firmness of his thigh is just enough to push the seam of them onto all the right places.
“F-fuck you, Miller,” you say, opening your eyes and bringing your head back up to look into his eyes, hoping the anger is apparent in yours. He stares at you for a moment before he speaks again. 
“Yeah, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t ya?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he moves his hand down to where your cunt meets his thigh, and places his thumb right on your clit, rubbing quick circles. The touch is all you need to send you over the edge, becoming a moaning mess under Joel’s body. He’s right of course, you want him to fucking ruin you. God, you hate it when he’s right. 
He continues the circles on your clit as you come down from your high, riding you through it. When you are finally able to catch your breath, you look him in the eye to find him staring right back at you. His gaze is intense and full of want. 
“You want me to quit, darlin?” You can tell by the way he says it, that he asks genuinely. He would stop if you said the word. As much as you want to hate him, you know that he is respectful enough that he wouldn’t do anything to that effect without your consent.
Joel may be an asshole, but he would never put his hands on a woman in that sense if she showed any sign of resistance. Though he didn’t seem to have a problem with wrapping his palm around your throat. 
“I can give you more, all you have to do is ask,” Joel says after you don't answer him. His gaze is hungry as he waits for your consent, his eyes slowly tracing up and down your body, taking you in. When he looks back to your face, you nod slowly, watching as his already blown-out pupils seem to take over his irises. 
“I'm gonna need to hear you say it, darlin,” he says as he brings his chin up to the side of your head, nibbling your earlobe and making you shiver. 
“P-please, Joel,” you say, giving up the act. You know you want him, he knows you want him, and now you know he wants you, too. 
“I need you, please.” At your signal, he doesn't wait any longer as he starts to pull you away from the wall, his free hand traveling back to the back of your neck, the other still grasping your wrists. Before you can figure out where he’s moving you to, your chest slams onto one of the tables, the force almost enough to knock the wind out of you. You had expected him to be rough, but not this rough… not that you mind. He’s clearly done with being gentle with you now that he has free reign.
“Jesus, Joel,” you say, throwing him a look over your shoulder as much as you can with your neck still being pinned down. 
“You fucking mind?” You hear Joel chuckle behind you and feel him step closer to you, pressing himself against your ass and leaning over so that his chest is flush with your back. 
“Nope, not at all.” His breath tickles your ear as he whispers into it. 
“Now I'd be quiet if I were you, girl,” he tells you, his tone almost threatening. “Unless you want to wake the whole town, of course, cause now that I’ve started, I ain't gonna stop.” Your eyes widen and a whimper falls from your lips as he finishes his threat and pushes his top half off of you. 
“Maybe you’d like that, huh, little girl?” he pauses his sentence to rip your pants and panties down in one fluid motion, making you cry out.
“Let the whole town watch me fuck you, show everyone who you belong to, who this cunt belongs to.” He knows you too fucking well, knows that you’re thinking about it now, salivating over the thought of someone walking in on you like this, your pants around your ankles, him, balls deep inside of you, taking what he wants. 
“Dirty little girl, out here whorin’ herself out to me so quick. Slut’s just damn desperate for some good fuckin’ cock.”
You hear a sharp zip from somewhere behind you and you struggle out of instinct, pushing up on the hand holding you down. He ignores your protest and slams himself into you, sheathing himself in one fluid motion, giving you no warm-up or time to adjust. 
You expected him to be big, but you weren't expecting this. He's fucking huge, stretching you out and reaching depths you didn't even know existed. You scream out at the sudden burning intrusion and Joel moves the hand that isn't on your neck to your mouth, silencing you halfway through the outburst. 
The tears that fall from your eyes catch on the palm of his hand as he brings his cock almost all the way out before slamming himself back in, setting a brutal pace. 
“Tha’s alright baby, Ima take good care of you,” Joel assures you through gritted teeth. “Make you feel real good creamin’ all over my fat cock.”
Your fingernails scrape the surface of the table once he releases your hands, scrambling for purchase as Joel slams into you without remorse. You’re almost surprised at how quickly you feel the knot in your stomach start to build back up, the pain promptly turning to pleasure as Joel brutally shoves his cock into your already-sore pussy. 
The sounds of Joel's grunts, your muffled sobs, and the squelching of your cunt quickly fill the room, you would be embarrassed if you weren’t so cock-drunk on Joel. Right now, the only thing you can focus on is the way the head of his dick slams into your G-spot with every harsh thrust. 
The way his dick drags against your walls makes you clench with every swift pass. That combined with the way his hips slap against your ass might just be the best thing you’ve ever felt. 
Your body begins to go slack, your stomach and chest pressing harder into the table, you barely even register Joel's hand being removed from your mouth until you hear your unfiltered moans break through. 
“Jus’ wait one second, darlin,” Joel's voice is strained as he talks. You try to nod back at him but find that it's a bit hard when your bones have melted. His pace never falters as he reaches down to where he pulled his pants down just enough to free his thick cock and heavy balls. 
When his hand finds the open buckle of his belt, he tugs it through the loops and uses the edge of the table to fold it once before bringing it to your lips, pushing it toward you until you bite down on it. 
He tells you something, by his tone it sounded like a command, but you can’t seem to make out the request.  If you weren’t drooling before, you certainly are now with the taste of leather on your tongue. Joel smirks to himself as your moans quiet down with the help of the belt. 
“There ya go, such a good girl holdin’ on t’ that for me,” he runs his fingers through your hair as you keen at his praise. He can feel your cunt tighten around him as your second orgasm approaches once again and he has to steel himself so as not to come right then and there like some teenager. Instead, he brings his hand down to touch your clit again, not with his thumb, but with his middle three fingers, rubbing up and down, immediately setting a furious pace. 
The new sensation combined with the pistoning of his hips pushes you over the edge and you have to bite down on the belt so you don't scream as you receive the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had. It's like nothing you’ve ever felt before, the white-hot pleasure almost blinding you, and the force of it almost pushing him out of your cunt. 
You sob as you listen to Joel talk you through it, telling you how good you're doing for him, how you were made for him to stuff his cock into. His pace never falters as you gush around him, but he does push himself further into you so as to not be forced out of you. 
The strength of his thrust is enough to surge you forward, the table screeching on the concrete floor below you as it too is moved forward slightly. After you come down completely from your high, he grasps your hands and tugs them behind your back for leverage, fucking down into you to chase his own pleasure. 
“Goddamn, darlin, tight, young, little cunt, squeezin’ the fuckin’ life outta me.” His dirty words are almost humiliating as he throws them out, but you love every moment of it, the way you clench around his cock giving you away quickly. 
“Oh, you like that, little slut?” he almost sounds surprised as he continues rambling. 
“Filthy little thing, lettin’ some old man stuff his cock into your sweet little pussy. ‘F you didn’t take dick so good I would think you’d be a damn virgin.” You whine beneath him as much as you can with the leather between your teeth, a shameless request for him to keep talking. 
“Yeah, you like that, huh, little girl?” He grants your wish, spewing more filthy comments every few thrusts. “Like bein’ told what a f-fuckin’ whore you are f’ me?” You keep, drooling on the belt trapped between your teeth.
Suddenly, you feel the large hand that was pinning your neck disappear, only to reappear on your ass, making your eyes widen as Joel quickly slides to your other hole, his thumb right above the tight ring of muscle. 
Usually, you would want to struggle, but for some reason, the thought of Joel taking you there is something you find yourself wanting. He feels you squeeze around him again and he chuckles at your desperation. 
“Now, you’re just full of surprises, ain't ya, princess?” He says, his voice even more strangled than it was before. It almost sounds like it should be painful for him to talk. He stops talking for a moment to allow his saliva to drip down and slide down your ass crack. 
“You’d let me fuck you here, wouldn't you, little girl?” Fuck this man, you both know the answer to that. 
“Put my dick in this pretty little ass?” When you don't object, you feel him spit on top of his thumb again before pushing it into you. 
Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes curl as he slides his thumb into you until he can’t anymore. The intrusion triggers your third orgasm, your body melting into the table as you press back into him. It’s less intense than the first two, but you are still fully consumed by the waves of pleasure that wash over you.
If you had been standing, you would have fallen to your knees. You’ve never felt so full in your life, the feeling almost overwhelming as he leans on top of you again, continuing to whisper filth into your ear. You can tell he’s getting close by the way he lets go of your wrists and tangles his fingers into your hair, slamming himself somehow even deeper inside of you.  
“Tell me who these fuckin’ holes belong to, princess,” he spews out through gritted teeth, pulling the belt away from your mouth and throwing it somewhere off to the side. 
“Who makes you feel good, makes these little holes feel good?” When you don't answer immediately, your unleashed moans and whimpers making it almost impossible, he uses the hand that’s not fingering your ass to deliver a sharp slap to your left cheek. 
“Fuck, fuck Joel it’s you,” you practically sob as you tell him what he wants to hear, what you want him to hear. 
“T-these holes are yours Joel, you make them feel so good, they belong to you, all yours,” you cry out frantically. Satisfied with your response, he rubs over the red spot on your skin before returning his hand to your neck. 
“That's right,” he praises you softly and you soak up every word. “Such a good fuckin’ girl, knowin’ who she belongs to.” He thrusts into you half a dozen more times before his pace finally starts to falter. 
“W-where do you want me, sweet thing?” As he asks you, all you can think is “fuck this man for being respectful with shit like that.”  If he hadn’t asked, you probably would have shoved him away, but instead, you make another stupid decision—why the fuck not at this point? 
“I-inside, Joel, inside me, oh my god, fucking c-come inside me,” you’re only slightly aware of how desperate you sound as you beg for his cum, but again, you can’t seem to find it in you to care. You let your cheek rest on the cool surface of the table and close your eyes, too exhausted to hold yourself up any longer. 
You hear Joel groan and start to say something above you, but he cuts himself off as he releases inside you with a strangled moan, almost like he is biting down on his lip so as not to shout. 
A stream of curses laced with your name spills from his lips as he twitches and pulses inside you. The feeling of his hot cum spilling into you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It seems like forever before he stills, practically collapsing on top of you, his cum dripping around his softening cock and down your thighs. 
Despite his weight on top of you, you think you could probably manage to fall asleep there. Your body has never felt so spent and tired, every muscle sore in one way or another. Joel waits only a minute before lifting himself off of you, and you attempt to lift your head to follow his movement, only for your cheek to be gently pressed back onto the table by his palm. 
“Jus' hold on a second, princess.” His tone is softer than you’ve ever heard it, and it makes your heart warm, but you can't resist the perfect opportunity to tease him as it presents itself. 
“You’re happier after you get your dick wet,” you say with a small smile as you follow his request, letting your eyes close as you bask in the feeling of euphoria that’s taken over your body. 
At your snippy comment, you expect him to scold you, or maybe to swat your behind, which is still presented for him. What you don’t expect is to feel his tongue on your spent cunt. Your body jolts and your eyes snap open at the unexpected feeling, your reflexes causing you to try to sit up again, only to be pushed down by Joel’s hand on your lower back. 
“I said to wait a second, darlin’,” he says as he pulls away from you, his tone more stern now. He waits until you nod your head to return to your pussy, dipping into your hole and lapping up your mixed release. You shudder as his tongue grazes your overstimulated clit, but do your best to hold still for him. 
After he seems to have gotten his fill, you feel him pull away again and stand up to lean over you. His hand suddenly grabs your chin, making you twist your neck slightly so that you are looking up at him. He keeps his mouth shut as he brings it to his own before squeezing your cheeks, making you open your lips, and drops his jaw open. 
You gasp as you feel the combination of his spit and your cum mixed with his own slowly spill onto your tongue. He keeps his eyes open and locked onto yours as he keeps your lips together and lets the liquid drip into your mouth. When he pulls away, he replaces his lips with his hand, forcing your mouth shut. 
“Swallow,” he commands. You obey without a second thought and let the substance slip down your throat. He smiles when he's sure you’re done and moves his hand, motioning for you to open up. You do, and he smirks as he sees every drop gone. 
“Good girl,” he mutters as he lays back down on top of you, and you let your body rest on the table again, enjoying the feel of his body on top of yours. As the two of you stay there, catching your breath, you feel Joel's chest start to vibrate against your back in silent laughter. You furrow your brows and attempt to stand and roll him off you, but only succeed in the latter, your legs failing as if they were made of jello. 
Joel stands back and tucks himself back into his jeans as you slump back down on the table, temporarily accepting defeat. You see him take a seat in the chair next to you out of the corner of your eye, his chest still rattling the slightest bit. 
“What the fuck do you find so funny, bastard?” You slur your words, your tone is a lot less fierce than you had wanted it to be. He looks at you before answering, and you feel your both heart and your cunt clench at the almost adoring look in his eyes as he meets your gaze. Maybe the asshole will try to be decent for a moment, his expression promising. 
“Looks like your gonna have t’ scrub this table again, princess,” he says, his tone toeing the line of playful. You feel your lips tug up into a smile as you recognize the fact that this is probably Joel being friendly. Or at the very least, he’s not at your throat at the moment—in a bad way anyway—so you’ll take it. Upon seeing your smile, he sits back further and allows himself a small smile of his own as he continues to watch you sink into the polished wood beneath you.
“Fuck you, Miller,” you say. You erupt into a quiet yet delirious fit of exhausted giggles, Joel following soon after with his own gentle chuckle. 
“Might have t’ give me a second for that, princess.”
*****
Pt. 2 here
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THE DARKEST HELL
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Summary: Y/N finds someone in her room at night during the Christmas season. Is he the demon from her old Nanny's fairytales?
Warnings: Smut (obviously) , name calling, spanking, yk the whole shebang. Mention of blood. Rough (as in, really rough) sex. Wrap it before you tap it. Also, these pictures were downloaded from Pinterest, don't sue us🥲 Pic credits to owners.
Word count: 5.4k
A/n: Hey guyssss we're back with a oneshot. This is our entry for @watchmegetobsessed 's #fanficmas2022
(This is basically smut with no plot lol, G went feral with it)
Anyway here's, 5.4k of pure smut😚❤️ Enjoyyyy
Xoxo
G and M
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The ambient darkness spread across the horizon. The moon was nowhere to be found. There were owls hooting outside. Y/N felt like she was in a horror movie . Her mother had always warned her not to listen to Grandma's horror stories. Well, she was not technically Y/N’s granny; she was the one who looked after her when her parents weren't around; she was her nanny but Y/N loved her like her own grandmother. Her parents were always travelling for work related things and were hardly home. They were busy making money and reputation while Y/N was abandoned like an orphan. They provided her with everything but it was not the same as having her parents around. She had studied well and had entered into a prestigious university. She chose to study psychology, the wonders of the human mind had never failed to amuse her.
Laying on her bed, Y/n contemplated her life. Life had always been difficult for her. Breaking up with her now ex boyfriend was just the icing on the cake. Her best friend Danny was the only relief in her crestfallen life. She slowly drifted off to sleep.
She woke up abruptly at the sound of thunderbolts in the night sky . Electric lightning zipped across the sky like fireworks.Terrified would be an understatement to explain her predicament. Shadows of her own room illuminated in the lighting and it appeared more and more disturbing. She felt like she was immobile. Is this what they call sleep paralysis? She could feel a menacing presence of something that wasn't supposed to be there. She wanted to run outside and scream but she couldn't. Another roar of thunder.
"Oh God! " She screamed.
"God isn't coming for your help, darling, " a hoarse voice replied.
"Who are you?" She asked. A gravelly laugh was the reply.
In the dark she could make out the shadow of her intruder, thanks to the lightning. Another thunder bolted.
"Please don't kill me", she cried.
Her intruder came closer this time. She found that he was around six feet and sculpted, not in a way that Protein shakes and gym do. He was wearing a black cloak with a hood. It covered his entire face. A sword hung dangerously on his hip. It felt like hanging the sword of Democles above her head because she knew that it was going to be her last night on earth.Even if she tried to fight with this intruder, it wouldn't last long, he was armed and she was alone .
"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it while you were asleep, darling. Why waste time fighting with you?" He seemed calm and collected unlike her mind, which had a raging storm inside that made the thunderstorm outside look less terrific. The rumbling sound of the thunder brought back her attention to the intruder.
"Then why are you here? Wait, what are you wearing?" She did not mean to ask that question out loud, it was a slip of the tongue.
"That's what we wear in our land." He confirmed.
"Who wears a cloak in the 21st century? Are you out of your mind? ", she laughed
Then it clicked.
" They come wearing black cloaks and a sword with two serpents on its handle. The hilt of the sword has an emerald stone in the middle. Every year before Christmas they will visit, to mark all your sins. They are the incarnations of all seven deadly sins, they're the commanders of the Devil himself.”
“Who?”
“The Angel who was cast out of heaven for rebelling against God.”
“ What was his name again?”
“Lucifer”, Grandma whispered.
“Lucifer”, Y/n confirmed.
“Don't say his name aloud princess. He'll come and take you to his place.”
“And where is his place?” Y/n couldn't contain her excitement. She was mesmerised by the tale of God and Lucifer, an angel who lost his place for disobeying The Mighty Creator.
“It's said in Isaiah 14:12 that after becoming Satan by his fall, Lucifer "goeth up and down, to and fro in the earth, seeking to destroy the souls of men".
“So he wanders around. Does he not have a palace or something?”
"He has, Princess. A palace and an army of soldiers beneath the Earth, a distant land of shadows, where the dead and the sinned will go."
She voyaged through the memory lane, a conversation with her grandma long ago .
"Are you the fallen angel ?" She asked, petrified.
"You need to be specific, darling."He said with pure amusement.
"Are you …..",she swallowed her own words .
"Are you Lucifer? " She finally plucked up the courage to ask him .
"No, I Am not ."His words are nonchalant like he does this kind of conversation everyday.
"No I'm not a robber, we have enough resources in our land. We are immune to the earthly pleasure of money." He mused.
"Can you read my mind?" She was genuinely surprised.
"Yeah we could do that "
"We? Are you not alone? How many people have you brought to kill me? Please don't kill me. I'll do anything, please."
She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, she was afraid, alone and did not even know the purpose of her intruder. A hand reached her chin.
"I'm not here to kill you Y/N ." He said, his sound raspy, thick and delicious. His fingers that were now wiping her tears electrified her whole body. He slowly reached for the bedside lamp and switched it on. She covered her eyes with her hands at the sudden sensitivity of light. Slowly opening her eyes, she noticed that her intruder no longer had a hood over his head. He was dangerously handsome.This guy was dangerous in more ways than she could fathom. She gripped her hands together anticipating him to snap at her or beat her up. But nothing happened, he stared at her, his jawline impossibly sharp, his lips thin and rosy, eyes as deep as the green ocean. His long hair was tied in a half bun. He stared at her with an expression of a predator looking at its prey. His eyes burned into her like he could see her soul. She thought she would turn into ashes soon, if he continued to stare at her like this.
"I will never hurt you. Maybe I will hurt you, but not in the way you think . I'll make sure you will enjoy every inch of your misery."
His lips curled up in a sinful manner. Her eyes zeroed in on his lips. Her tongue darted out and licked her own lips wishing that she could taste those dangerous lips that were only a few centimetres away from her. His aura was black, much blacker than the colour of his cloak.
"Stop tempting me, darling, or I'll have to grant your wish and I swear, once I get a taste of those pretty lips of yours, I won’t be able to stop. "
The air suddenly became so hot .The look on his face suggested that he'll do everything he said if she allowed. It sent a spark down her spine. A part of her was frightened, another part elated.
"You wish", She wanted to sound angry but it came out only as a breathy whisper.
"I don't have to wish, darling, I can see you thinking about it." His voice was hoarse, and the looks he gave her were primal and animalistic. It shook her defences. But she couldn't be defeated by an intruder, now could she?
"Who are you ?"She queried.
"I am Harry, The Lord of Lust ,The second commander of the Devil Lucifer himself." At Least he's not the Devil. But the dangerous aura around him and his serpent eyes excited her. She felt like a child again, in her bed listening to stories from her grandma , going to the darkest places in her mind and discovering something new every time. This was something terrific, yet it excited her all the same.
“Are you an angel like Lucifer, a fallen angel from heaven? " she asked out of curiosity.
"No, we're created from the Devil himself. We're 7 parts of him "
"We?" She inquired .
"Yeah, seven lords for seven sins" Her grandmother had told her about the seven deadly sins from the Bible. Seven deadly sins are also called seven cardinal sins. In Roman Catholic theology, they can be thought of as disposition towards sin. They are pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth.
"So you don't have an independent existence?Are you, like, sired to him?." She cross-questioned.
"Not exactly,we can have our own life ,deeds , pleasure,sins etc.But our ultimate duty is to follow the Devil's instructions." He seemed bored. Maybe he didn’t like being questioned like this . But Y/n pressed, she wanted to know.
"What happens if you don't oblige?"
Will the devil kill you? But she omitted that part for her own good.
"We'll oblige, I already said we're a part of him." He sounded certain.
"Why are you here though? "
Did the Devil send him to take her to him so that he can boil her in hot oil or peel her skin and leave it to the crocodiles ?
"There are no crocodiles in our hell. We are friendly people, you know. I am here, out of mere curiosity." He sounded amused, like he was enjoying having a conversation with her.
"Curious? Of what?"
"You"
"Me?"
"Yeah ,you"
"What have I done ?"
"You haven't done anything.Your book is empty, that's what I am curious about." He took something out of his pocket, something that looks like a book but in a black velvet cover . He put it in his hand and closed his eyes.Suddenly the page opened with her name on the top. But it was empty .
"What's this ?"
" The Book of lust.Every individual has a record of their sins recorded in their respective books. For Lust, for envy, for Pride...But yours is empty." He pronounced.
"What ?I haven't committed any sins at all ?"
"No that's not it. Maybe you have committed other sins but your book of lust is empty."He put the book back in his pocket. He was wearing a corset vest under his cloak and she could see his muscles straining inside wanting to see the light.
"Why though? I have had sex before."she felt offended all of a sudden .
"I thought about it as well and then I got my answer. Yes, you have had sex before.But have you enjoyed it? Have you done it purely to enjoy the pleasure of lust, to quench your thirst for lust? Leaving behind all your convictions and beliefs to do something dangerous?" He ran a hand through his thick hair.
"What do you mean?" She stuttered.His presence overwhelmed her and his words ,each syllable rolled out of that pretty tongue in a melodious manner.She paused her thoughts knowing well that he could read her mind. Her face became red out of embarrassment.
With a knowing smile,he continued:
"I mean, you did it as something that has to be done, not to embrace the pleasure.Enjoying the pleasure and imposing the pleasure are two different things ,darling" he did not sound mocking. But she felt humiliated.
"I see" she tried to be sarcastic, in an attempt to hide her hurt .
"What?" He asked genuinely concerned .
"I see that you're here to mock my incompetence to do the deed."she tried to jump out of the bed but his hands gripped her hand stopping her path.
" The Deed? What deed?” , he smirked.
She tried to retrieve her hand from his grip but those long fingers tightened their grip leaving it an impossible task. She felt him loosening his grip a little bit .
"I mean, you know, the deed "she closed her eyes irritatingly.
"And I'm asking you again.Use the exact words darling."
"I know you can read my thoughts. Then why are you making this hard for me,… What should I call you?"
Maybe Lord, or maybe Mr intruder or even Devil 2.O, she laughed at her own thoughts.
"You can call me Harry for now, and my lord, while we do the deed." He sounded cocky. Arrogant son of a bitch.
"Who said we're going to do the deed?"She knew she was only one step away from crossing the line .But she couldn't care less. She spent her entire life trying to be perfect, controlling her impulses. Now, a dark Angel from hell is in her room, wanting to make her commit sin and she's definitely going to fall for this temptation. She's completely aware of the fact that she's playing with fire.
"You mean the deed that involves me lifting your skimpy material that you call nightgown and spanking your ass and putting my cock inside your wet pussy until you see the stars?" His voice washed over her .
"Fuck " she was going insane.
"Exactly" He was so close that she could feel his breath fanning over her face.Her reaction was immediate, her nipples hard and panties soaking wet.
"Don't you dare plan on anything as such" suddenly she felt nervous.
"Then why am I smelling your arousal, huh? I can't control myself any longer. Do you want me to control it ,Y/N? ."His honey laced voice wrapped around her in a tight embrace. She was put into an immovable trance where she could think about nothing but him and his cock. Her breath hitched and her heart pounded in anticipation. His words set her body aflame. And God forbid she wanted to burn in that fire.
"Do you want me to control,Y/N ? Answer me "he demanded, his words dominant. It made fear wrap tightly around her like a nightgown.
"No "she whispered .
"Louder, darling "he taunted. His hands reached for her chin, forefinger running across her jaw. She shuddered under his touch.
"No," she said, grabbing all her courage.
"No, what ?"He pressed while his eyes devoured every inch of her body.She had never felt this alive.
"No , Harry"
"Not Harry, darling.Call me your Lord." a smirk adorned his lips.
"No, I don't want you to control yourself around me, My Lord." She said frustrated.
"That's my whore. "
His Whore. Never in her life had something called her something like that .So degrading, yet so possessive.
“Can I touch you now, Y/N? I need your words.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
He moved so fast when those words left her mouth. He yanked her against him. His body pressed entirely against hers. He crashed his lips against hers and she could feel herself, drowning in ecstasy. A burning desire raced through her veins. She knew kissing a total stranger was against all her principles that she followed till today. But she could care less at this point when an unexplainable euphoria had her body in its grip. Heat pooled in her lower stomach. Her core ached with pulsating need. He gripped his hand around her neck tilting it for better access. The kiss was rough. She was panting . Her heart hammered in her chest.He bit her bottom lip asking for permission which she granted him effortlessly. Their tongues fought furiously against each other for dominance.He groaned against her.
"Fu..ck" she moaned shamelessly.
He groaned in reply.His lips left hers. His thumb rubbed against her erratic pulse. Her eyes drank him.He buried his face in her neck, nipping the soft flesh with his teeth. Her hands run effortlessly in his long curls. He bit her flesh bringing tears to her eyes but the throbbing in her core intensified. He tugged his hair hard, a small moan escaping from his own lips. He shifted his hip to rub his hardness against her core .
"Now remove your clothes all by yourself and touch yourself like the whore you are." He ordered.
A breathy moan escaped her lips but she made no move. He yanked her hair, jerking back until her ear was near his mouth.
"Either you'll do it or I'll make you do it. Leave the good girl act you've been doing for years and be the whore you are." He said, nibbling on her ears. His hot breath warmed her skin. She was so absorbed by him. His words were dominant, but she felt warm and safe.
Looking straight into his eyes, she reached for the string of her nightgown .She untied it, looking straight into his eyes. She yanked it down, slowly, without even breaking eye contact.His breath heaved.He was straining painfully in his pants. The gown fell to the floor. Her panties followed it, leaving her in nothing. A cold breeze washed over her body leaving goosebumps.Her nipples hardened. His breath hitched at the sight.
"Fucking gorgeous" He groaned.
She spread herself onto the bed in front of him , giving him a clear view of her core. Her hands slowly reached for the spot. She shifted her fingers towards the throbbing spot .She pushed them inside and outside teasing herself and then increased her pace.
"Open wider " she obeyed him without another word. Her legs instantly fell further apart .She twirled her fingers around her clit faster. She could feel the sensation of an impending orgasm in her lower belly .
"Stop " he demanded. A scream of frustration left her mouth. She glared at him.
"Now beg for it " She thought he was joking but his expression said otherwise.
"No " She was not going to fall for his antics .
"I won't beg " She pressed
"Oh you will " he sounded certain.
Her gaze zeroed onto his eyes. Tension snapped between them .
He let out a small laugh.He moved so fast and closed the distance between them . She felt shy wearing nothing while he's still wearing his cloak. Reading her thoughts, he removed his cloak. He was wearing a corset vest inside it. Y/N swallowed hard at the sight of all the muscles tightly packed inside his vest. It was sleeveless, giving her a great display of his inked arms full of tattoos and some scars that only added to his beauty. He took his sword in his hands, a smirk adorning his lips indicating nothing but danger.
He pressed the hilt of the sword inside her.
"Har..ry …." Her words were cut off by the feeling of cold metal .
"My Lord" , he commanded with a hard thrust.
He thrust it in and out making her shudder under him. He worked the sword inside her, eliciting pain and pleasure at the same time.The serpent guard of the sword hit her clit every time he thrust the handle inside her. He took the sword out and she whimpered at the lack of contact . He thrust it hard this time hitting a spot that made her eyes roll back .A moan escaped her mouth.
She rolled her hips in the rhythm of the sword.
"Like that , fuck my sword like you wish to fuck me."
She was close to an orgasm. He suddenly stopped .
"Now beg for it " He barked.
"Please " she was desperate to come at this point.
"Please what?" he was not going to let it go .
"Please let me cum, my lord"
"You could do better,"he taunted .
"Please make your whore come , My Lord."
He thrust harder in reply. Slurping noises filled the room, mixed with their moans. It took only one thrust to unleash her orgasm. She screamed like she could see Hell. He rode her through her orgasm and she was a mess after she came down from her high. But she felt like it was only the beginning.
"Because I am not done with you yet”
He said, reading her thoughts.
“I want to devour you, Y/N , I want to consume you, every inch, every breath, until you're a mess who can't see anything other than me. Now, tell me, who is your Lord ,Y/N?"
“You " she closed her eyes.
"Yes, I am your lord. And what are you to me?" She opened her mouth but no words came out. He gripped her throat pressing her firmly against the headboard.
"Your whore " tears pricked her eyes.
"You're doing well, darling. I'll fuck you like every whore wants. I'll bend you over, spank you till your ass cheeks turn red; until you beg me to make you come all over my cock ."
"Please,'' she begged.
He cocked an eyebrow at her clearly not satisfied by her request .
"Please make me come again ,My Lord." She sobbed, not caring anymore.
"I will "
He removed his vest followed by his pants. He was huge and hard . She eyed every inch of his body like it was her last sight. Her gaze dropped down to his cock. Her lips parted open at the sight.
"On your knees ,Now " he commanded.
Without even hesitation she sank onto the floor. He gripped her hair to make her stare at his cock.
"Open your mouth" she obliged his commands without any complaints.
Without taking his eyes off her he slipped the cock right into her mouth slowly until it reached her throat.Her eyes teared at the size . He bucked his hips into her mouth making her gag.
"For every gag, you're going to be punished hard, darling " He barked
She adjusted to his size immediately.She licked it top to bottom . Slowly started sucking it , she increased her pace then.She bobbed her head up and down with hollowed cheeks making his breath hitch.
"Faster , just like that my Whore , You're doing amazing "
Her hands reached his balls; slowly, rhythmically playing with it. He gripped her hair, thrusting deeper into her mouth. Saliva drooled from her lips making him moan at the sight. He fucked her mouth roughly. Her eyes watered at the feeling. A few more thrusts was all it took to make his hot cum drip into her mouth. It took him some minutes to come back from his high. He saw her looking at his face with her eyes watery, lips swollen from sucking his cock and face wet from sweat and his hot cum. He groaned at the sight. She felt accomplished. She felt proud making a part of a fallen angel cum under her touch. She never felt this much power and for the first time in her life she was not thinking about the consequences.
"Do you know how gorgeous you look right now, darling? Fucking beautiful, like a whore waiting for her Lord's cock inside her. Do you want my cock , darling?"
"Yes "she sounded excited.
"Have you ever loved a cock like you love your Lord's?"
"No " it was true .She never had seen anybody with a massive cock like his. It filled her mouth perfectly, reaching her throat, making her gag.
"Does your boyfriend let you fuck his cock with your mouth ,whore?" She moaned at the nickname.She didn't know she would love degradation until Harry. He made even degrading sound pleasing.Everytime the word whore left his mouth she felt herself getting wetter. It was sinful and dirty.
"Yes” He had sometimes but it wasn't rough. He hadn't yanked her hair or bucked his hips against her mouth. Sex with him was controlled and calculated. She never lost control with him .It was just like the other things in her life, precise and in order.
"And do you like it?" His face was nonchalant but words dripping venom. Is Lord of Lust , the second commander of Devil himself jealous of her ex-boyfriend? The thought made her even more wet.
"No" she sounded like a desperate giddy teenager.
"Why?"
"Cause ….." she trailed of.She wanted to say a hundred things but nothing came from her mouth. The anticipation was killing her.Her core ached for another release. Watching him fall apart in her mouth was a torture to say the least.
"You'll be punished for not answering, darling." His words are dominant and scary.
"No please" she said, but her mind screamed yes a thousand times.
"Bend down on my lap, I'll make it easier for you. You'll never hesitate for a moment to answer my questions." She wanted to put on an act of hesitation but nothing could hide the excitement from her face. She must have gone out of her mind or how could someone enjoy the idea of punishment. She's beyond fucked up at this point. But she could care less.
She did as he said and he pinched her nipple, making her shudder. He gently patted her ass cheeks. Goosebumps spread across her skin from the cold rings adorning his fingers. She hissed, trying to muffle her moans. He slapped her ass hard enough to make her scream aloud.
"Don't you dare hold back your moans, you understand?” She nodded.
"Good "another slap.
"You're such a whore, allowing a man centuries older than you to fuck you without even knowing how dangerous he is. Do you like if I let you fuck all the seven lords together, darling?Will you be greedy for all of their cocks, whore?"
"No"
He slapped her again and she screamed in pain and pleasure, a combination of pure bliss.
"Now tell me darling, will you be enjoying all their cocks?"
"No," she cried.
"Which cock will you love?"
"Yours, only yours"
"Fuck" he groaned "you'd be the death of me if I had one. I'll make you forget all the losers that ever touched your sweet pussy while my tongue fucks the hell out of you ."
She moaned his name again . He yanked her foreword kissing her lips possessively.Their mouths crashed against each other harder, almost desperate.Y/N’s heart fluttered at the sensation. No man will ever be enough for her. She wanted a man like him.
"Don't you dare think I'll make it easier for you, darling.You're My Whore , I'll fuck you like a whore. And you're right , once I'm done no one will ever be enough for you ."
Her face heated at the confession. He had read her thoughts. She could feel the blush creeping from her face to neck. She looked to hide her embarrassment only to watch his painfully hard cock . It strained for her. Her core clenched at the sight. She looked into his face only to find those emerald eyes turning black. It killed her. He wanted it as much as she did .She was on cloud nine, just thinking about it.
He didn't let her finish her thoughts. He flipped her back on the bed and spread her legs apart. She was dripping wet.
"Fucking wet for me, my whore. I love seeing you like this, with hazy eyes and wetness pooling between your legs only for me. I fucking love it"
She didn't get a chance to respond as he slammed into her. His thrusts were hard and desperate. He hissed at the feeling of her sweet pussy clenching around his cock.The feeling brought him a pleasure that was beyond Earth and Hell. He choked her with his long fingers .Tears sprung in her eyes. He slammed into her over and over again. Her hips arched for more. He took her nipple in his mouth while pinching the other one with his hands.She felt immortal. His pace was brutal. He bit her nipple to stimulate the sensation. He pounded into her in an insatiable hunger. She wiggled her hips to match his merciless rhythm. He quickened his thrusts hitting a spot within her. She felt the orgasm building inside her. It took only a few more thrusts to make her fall apart under him . After a few more thrusts, he too reached his climax.Before she could catch her breath he flipped her back muffling her moans into the pillow. He slammed into her from behind in a brutal thrust. A scream ripped through her as the new position made him hit the exact point.
"Scream my name, whore" he commanded, biting her shoulder. His fangs which she didn't realise were there till now, pierced into her shoulder. Blood swept from his mouth to her neck. His nails dug deeper into her ribs. She hissed in a pain that brought her orgasm closer. His thrusts were ferocious. An animalistic growl escaped his lips. She felt her inner demons breaking all the walls she created to bury them. She bucked her hips matching his energy. They reached a similar momentum . The world stilled as both of them fell apart together, filling the air with their whimpers and soft curses.
"You know how my cock felt inside you? Did you enjoy it too, darling?" His words were hoarse.
"I fucking loved it." Her words were incoherent from the mind-blowing sex.
"Has any body ever fucked you like this?" He asked.
"No never. I don't think anybody will ever"
Pleased with her reply, he fucked her again and again until she couldn't take it anymore. She felt exhausted when they finally finished. He slowly got up from the bed, took his dress and started dressing. She looked at him curiously.
"It's my cue to leave "
He was leaving.The thought made her sick. But she didn't try to make him stay. She accepted the fact that he didn't belong here. He was a demon. He had a different life and purpose. Maybe she'll find him again on a stormy night and maybe he'll fuck her like today again. Reading her thoughts he closed the distance between them.This time, it was a gentle kiss, a reminder that this is not the end .
"You haven't made me fall apart with your tongue, My Lord. Shame on your race, you didn't keep your promise." she smirked and he stopped dead in his tracks.
"Well, we can try again next year, I don’t think you’ll be able to take another orgasm " with that, he disappeared, his signature smirk adorning his lips.
"Don't go please….."
Y/n woke up abruptly with a pounding headache. What the hell! Was it a dream?She was dripping wet, from a dream! She looked down at her body. She was still wearing her nightgown. Nothing in her room was out of place. Everything was just the way she kept it. No signs of a storm. Harry, the Lord of Lust, the spanking, the sex…everything was a dream. She groaned in frustration.
Today she has to present her paper for her psychoanalysis class and here she was, waking up from a wet dream. It felt so realistic. She couldn't waste any time, she had to reach the college by 9.00. Danny had texted her that he would be there to pick her up within 25 minutes, which meant that she had to skip breakfast. She freshened up quickly and cladded herself in a black fitted skirt and a white shirt with a black blazer. She added stockings to her look to make it a little more modest. Danny was on time. Grabbing her presentation, she entered his car.
"Good Morning, ready for your presentation?" Danny asked in enthusiasm.
"Morning, and, yeah almost." She didn't seem that confident.
"You're going to rock it" he tried to boost her confidence.
"You're such a gem, but I'll be breaking your bones if you don't start the engine right now "
"Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed today " he laughed trying to ease her anxiety which she replied with a laugh.
The presentation went great. Her professor was delighted by her findings. The day was pretty good, to say the least. She went to the cafeteria to grab her breakfast after her presentation. She was accompanied by Danny whom she told about her dream. Not the mind boggling details, but the way it seemed so realistic and all that. He laughed and tried to interpret what it meant using Freudian philosophy. Danny had to leave soon as he had a class that hour.
Y/N walked over to the counter to get a coffee. She was waiting for her turn when somebody poured their coffee into her heels.
"Jesus …I am so sorry " leaning down to wipe her heels, a raspy voice said, in a British accent. He took a tissue from his pocket and reached for her heels. She abruptly pulled back,
"It's okay, you don't have to do it"
"It's fine, afterall it was my mistake ", sitting on his knees, he looked up at her. Her breath hitched, heart pounding faster. Same curly hair, but this time without a half bun. Same rosy full lips and that chiselled jawline. She could hardly believe her eyes.
"Ha..Harry?" she whispered.
He stood up, surprised,
"Um, sorry, do I know you?"
Well, shit.
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Soooooo, what do y'all think? G went a bit overboard for this one lol😝
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atinyjules · 1 year
Text
MY BALLERINAS - JENO
Pairings: Dad!Jeno x Female oc
Genre: fluff, established relationship, dad au.
Warnings: none
Characters: Jeno, Jaemin, Haechan, Si-ah (4), Soo-ah (2), Chaein (3), Chaeyeon (2), Bomin (4), Haerin (2)
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An hour after Jeno had taken a time out from decorating the backyard with pink mesh drapes, everything you would possibly need for a tea party and a lot of pink decor he woke up with a groan, rubbing his eyes. Letting out a sigh as he stretched his body and yawned.
Being the sole male of the household was hard work, especially when both his daughters loved hosting tea parties. But he wouldn't have had it any other way. He was in the process of preparing one such tea party. The girls would be back home in an hour from their cousins place so he had to finish getting everything ready. And it did not help that his wife was in Paris for a performance.
"Okay, I'm done!" he exclaimed in victory and looked at his masterpiece with pride.
And as though on queue, the familiar sound Jaemin's cars pulling up in front of the house caught his attention as Jeno went out to greet his two princesses.
"Daddy!" He picked up Si-ah who ran to him and engulfed her in a tight bear hug.
"Hey Princess! You had fun?" she nodded at that as Jaemin got out of the car with Soo-ah fast asleep in her baby carrier on his right and Haerin in her carrier on the other side.
"Hey Bomin!" Jeno greeted his nephew who hugged him and greeted him.
"Hi uncle Jeno!"
"I hoped they weren't a menace to you." Jeno asked as he took Soo-ah's baby carrier from Jaemin's hand.
"Of course not! They were well behaved like Princesses, just like their mama right Si-ah?" Jaemin said to which Si-ah agreed almost instantly.
"Okay, that's great." Jeno said as Jaemin gave him a smug smile.
"I mean they do get it from their mama's side of the family." he said earning a sigh from Jeno.
"If you say so." Jeno said as they laughed it off and went in.
"Woah...I'm impressed." Jaemin said looking at the set up as Si-ah and Bomin gasped.
"Daddy! It's amazing!!" Si-ah exclaimed and hugged her father who grinned proudly.
"It's sooo....Pink!" Bomin exclaimed earning a loud chuckle from his father.
"It's a tea party Bomin." Jaemin told his son who only groaned in response.
"But I'm a boyy!"
"Shut uppp it's beautiful! It's just like my mommy! Elegant and cheek!" Si-ah said as Jeno chuckled.
"Chic, Si-ah, chic." Jeno said as she nodded.
"Oh!"
"Am I going to be the only boy?" Bomin asked Jeno who shook his head.
"You have me and your dad!" Jeno replied as Jaemin nodded his head when a car pulled up in front of the house.
"All hail the Princesses of the Lee Empire!!" They went out to see Haechan putting out a red carpet towards the door.
"What in the world-" Jeno was cut off by Haechan.
"Shush! Its a royal tea party! Chaeyeon come over here with your sister!" he said as a toddler clad in a poofy blue ball gown came out of the car with her little sister who were a matching blue gown.
"HII!!" Chaeyeon exclaimed loudly and went to hug Si-ah, Soo-ah, Bomin and Haerin.
"Shh! Baby, Haerin and Soo-ah are sleeping!" Haechan whispered to his daughter.
"OH!!" She exclaimed loudly causing everyone to flinch.
While the kids were going about their tea party the fathers were all watching them with loving eyes from the kitchen.
"Aren't they adorable~" Haechan cooed as Jeno and Jaemin agreed while snapping pictures.
"Too bad Eunbi has work, she would've totally loved this." Jaemin said referring to his younger twin and Jeno's wife.
"Yeah...she wanted to be present for this but there's always next time." Jeno said as Haechan chuckled.
"I bet Bi chose the girl's outfits." Haechan said as Jeno chuckled.
"Yup, I thought you wouldn't notice." Jeno said as Jaemin snorted.
"They're literally wearing pink matching ball gowns with a swan tiara...the whole look screams Eunbi." Jaemin said as Jeno looked at his daughters trying to mimic their mother's dance steps with love and adoration.
"Yeah, it does...gosh I love them so much." Jeno confessed as Haechan chuckled.
"Look at us, fatherhood turned us into goddamn softies." Haechan said as Jaemin smiled looking at the kids.
"I'm not complaining though, fatherhood made us happier even though the circumstances were out of our control." He said and looked at Jeno whose eyes were fixated on his two princesses.
" I definetly am a lot happier with the three of my girls." Jeno said as they continued watching the kids try ballet with the sound of Si-ah and Soo-ah's music box playing in the background.
Whether the circumstances were out of his control or not Jeno knew for sure that he won't regret nor plan on doing so anytime soon. Whether it meant having to be surrounded by pink his whole life and organizing tea parties, if it meant that he gets to be with his Ballerinas for the rest of his life he was willing to do it for eternity.
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kimbap-r0ll · 1 year
Note
CONGRATULATIONS OM YOUR MILESTONE!!
Can i request 💖 with Azul, Jade, and Floyd? 👀
Hi, thank you for the ask!
Follower Event: Azul, Jade, Floyd with "I used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along"
Azul
He always thought he would be the cowardly, slow, pathetic octopus ever since he could remember. Everyone else in Coral Sea had shimmering fins, beautiful scales. But for him, all he had was tentacles that would scare off or lead to bullying from others. He thought his entire life he would have to fend for himself, find ways to get revenge on those who wronged him but also live with a constant fear of not being perfect. That was until you came into his life
You were on a ship during a storm, a horrible fate that no one expected to see on what seemed like such a nice day. You fell off of the ship and into the sea and struggled to lift yourself up from the darkness of the ocean. Thankfully, Azul had been close by and rescued you. When you woke up, he was ready to dart away, swim as fast as he could away from you so you didn't have to see his hideous body. But all you did was look at him in awe, the same look he probably gave you when he first saw you. Before you could tell him how cool he looked he fled
Throughout his years in NRC, he didn't think he would see you again, that was until you showed up as a transfer student into his dorm. You didn't recognize him because of how much he had changed, let alone you didn't know his name. But whenever you talked about how an amazing person saved you that fateful day, Azul felt his heart skip a beat
You changed the way he felt about himself that day you looked at him with something other than disgust. He felt...proud of himself. He would remind himself about how you looked at him whenever he heard those voices from his head try to take down his esteem over and over again. Oh only if you knew how much you meant to him he would have been with you every minute of your life
For now though, Azul didn't say anything. He chose to try and woo you with his intellect, with the personality that he carefully curated. But when he broke out of that shell, that was when you truly seemed to like him, once again showing him that it's more important to love yourself for who you are.
Jade
Most would see Jade and think he's just a scary eel. He didn't look like he had any weaknesses, but you would be wrong. He was extremely fond of nature, especially the mountains. He never had the chance to go exploring until he ran into you. Literally
You were out in the mountains gathering some mushrooms for research when you heard something scary not too far from your location. Reacting on instinct, you ran the opposite direction and that was when you slammed into Jade. It was then that you two ended up running back down and talking about what you two found in the woods. He never met someone who was as enthusiastic about the mountainside as you
The more he got to talk to you, the more he realized he was slowly falling in love with you. It wasn't just similar interests, but you also treated him as something more than the other half of a pair. You treated him with respect, you let him be loose. For that, he was grateful and he was falling hard for you
Azul and Floyd had an inkling that Jade was dozing in and out of work, often having to call his name multiple times to get his attention. Jade tried his best to not let anyone know about his feelings since he thought it could make him look weak, but Floyd soon said it to him in his face. "You like y/n right?"
Jade would have asked for help in asking you out from the other two, but he denied Floyd's accusations and continued to clean the silverware he was in charge of. You changed the usual cold, calculated twin but perhaps it was something Jade wanted to explore
Floyd
If there was anyone in NRC that all students were afraid of, it would be Floyd. The man was unpredictable, fast, strong, and a pure menace. But instead of being afraid when he approached you, Ace, and Deuce, you stood your ground and looked at him in his eyes. You even agreed to play a bit of tag with the eel, something most people would warn against
Floyd was starting to like you as a playmate, sort of like he had someone to tease or chase every day. But after playing around with you, the two of you would talk and he would learn more about you. Soon, he started to like you for more than your courage but also all of the little things that you did. Floyd was extremely good at spotting small details (when he wanted to that is). The small laugh you would let out when talking about a fond memory, the way your eyes lit up when he greeted you, all made his heart jump a bit
Floyd walked into Azul's office one day, grabbing a seat and setting his feet up on Azul's desk. "Is there something you wanted? And quit acting so casually in here," Azul looked up from his paperwork to the twin. "Yeah, I have a crush on someone, how do I ask them out?"
Azul nearly spit out his tea all over the contracts he was organizing. Floyd was never one to cut corners, but since when did he have a crush on someone? Azul asked about the details but Floyd soon said that he would rather get advice from someone with dating experience and was quickly ushered out of Azul's office. Floyd would have to find ways to ask you out on his own, which would probably be running up to you, hugging you, and then saying to date
Floyd likes people who are brave, who are able to give him excitement in his life. But you were more than that, you seemed to make him feel soft. He viewed you as something more than just someone else to play tag with, and he wanted to confess these feelings to you as soon as possible
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eunchancorner · 1 year
Note
I heard you're thinking about Lee Wally. Allow me to share with you something I wrote to my bestie on Discord:
When Wally wants tickles, he'll usually ask.
But when he wants to be wrecked?
He has what the rest of the neighborhood call "Rascal Days"
Where Wally will be such a lil shit and pull various pranks in order to get tickles, nothing serious but definitely stirring up mischief and chaos.
Eventually, after everyone gets got, he'll oh so innocently come out from behind a tree and proclaims he could never have caused so much mayhem and naughtiness! Absurd! Preposterous even!
And that leads the gang to team up and tickle the stuffing out of Wally until he confesses to everything.
And every dirty tactic is used.
From having Howdy use all his hands to pin him spread eagle, to using Wallys own paint and brushes to "write down his crimes"
Wally ends up a squealing flustered mess until he blurts out he did it. All of it, it was him!
And then he gets a nice 5 minute break before the gang tickles him again as revenge for being a menace >:3
Anon I feel so fed-
Wally woke up and chose violence. I bet he would hide or even take people's stuff, set up harmless little 'traps', put wet paint on people's door knobs, he's such a meanie!
Also, please all of the mean things they could tryyyy! Poppy's feathers, Barnaby's nibbles, Howdy fucking holding him like that and he's just helpless, Eddie using his tummy as a freaking canvas, Frank telling him random facts while tickling a related body part, and Julie and Sally just deciding to double team every spot that gets him squealing. Howdy even struggles to hold him a little because this little boi sure can thrash when he's really getting wrecked.
The poor bean's a giggly mess the whole break and even more so after the revenge, where they clean off his poor tummy. He has to blanket-burritoed and carried to bed.
And yes. He does get teased about it for a few days afterwards
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gbee-writes · 9 months
Text
Tw; mildly suggestive, alcohol mentions, pregnancy mention at the end.
He had finally gotten what he thought he wanted but instead of feeling happy it had left him hollow and fragile. The alcohol wasn't doing much to stop his bitter thoughts. It might have been helping them, actually.
A hushed scoff drew his attention from the skyline to the figure now behind him. Hero was without her mask but the rest of her costume was on. Her honey brown eyes were locked firmly on him and the sight stopped his lungs for just a second.
“Are you proud of yourself? Are you satisfied now?” Her tone was far from scathing. It was broken and bare, the way he thought a salted field might sound were it a person.
“No.”
She sat down hard next to him. That was when he noticed the bottle in her hand. It seemed he wasn’t the only one trying to drown out the consequences of his actions.
Villain surged forward without thinking. He was grateful when Hero chose to return the kiss instead of snapping him like a twig. Her fingers dug into his back and hair. The scratches from her nails brought electricity through his nerves.
He knew she didn't wear her ring anymore. Her costume stopped at the wrists so the missing accessory was easy to notice. Villain, however, kept his safely hidden under his glove.
It wasn't a surprise she didn't have hers anymore after what he had done but it still stung to know what he'd thrown away in a ridiculous bid for revenge. Why hadn't he seen how much he needed her? How could he have decided to leave the best thing in his life? Disappearing one day and returning soon after, not to her, but to the city as a criminal and a vengeful menace.
Villain put every desperately needy want into the kiss, letting out a pathetic wine when Hero pulled back.
"We...we shouldn’t...not here." Her voice wavered.
Villain leaned forwards again, daring to hope. "Somewhere else?"
His heart ached at the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. The pained expression on her face was his fault and he knew it but he was too selfish to pull away and spare them both from the heart break this choice would bring.
A sick sort of elation rushed him as she nodded. Finally getting a taste of what they used to be, something Villain had been longing for in the never ending nights.
"Just tonight." Hero said firmly.
Villain gently placed his lips to the corner of her eye, kissing the tears away before moving to the other one, before peppering her whole face with delicate reminders of how much he missed her.
It wouldn't take long before Hero was leading them back to what used to be their apartment but was now just hers. The next morning before she woke he set out a plate of her favorite breakfast and a note giving no hints to where he was going, being clear he would never return.
As Villain stared disconnectedly out of a plane window at the city he'd grown up in, found the love of his life in, lost his way in, he had no idea that this time he was leaving two behind instead of one.
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callsign-phoenix · 1 year
Text
I wrote this for a lovely anon, I hope you like it!
It is a Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x gn!reader imagine.
Warnings: mentions of sex, cursing
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Waking up next to Hangman Seresin was the worst thing that could have possibly happened to you.
You didn’t know what had happened that had brought you into his bed because you barely remembered anything, except for how good the fellow aviator had made you feel.
It was a surprise since Seresin was an asshole, everyone thought so, he was selfish, egocentric and determined that he was the best.
He had also bragged about being good in bed, and you sadly had to give in to say that he was right.
You slipped out of bed quickly and silently as not to wake him, making your way out of his home to get out of the endless teasing you’d undoubtedly receive.
You weren’t prepared to see him a few hours later for training, a twinkle in his eye as he sent you a self-sufficient grin.
“Good to see you again, darling, you look like you had an amazing night,” he nodded towards you as he entered the briefing room, and you had to bite your tongue to keep yourself from saying anything.
Instead you focused on looking over at your instructor, feeling Hangman’s presence beside you as he playfully bumped your shoulder with his, standing too close to you for your liking.
“You look like someone rocked your world,” you could hear the grin in his voice as he whispered those words in a volume so that no one else could hear you.
You contemplated screaming at him or throwing a punch but you clenched your jaw instead, your full attention centered on where it should, except for the parts of your body that betrayed you by focusing on the person that was all too near.
You couldn’t stand yourself or his presence the entire day but especially not the small comments he made, the teasing endless.
With all his glances your way and his little whispered comments you were surprised none of your fellow aviators questioned you, but then again Hangman always chose a target to go off on.
Jake’s teasing became less menacing over the course of the day but stayed resilient, until you finally lost it.
You found him standing beside you once again as you stood with the others, talking casually.
You could feel his breath on your ear as he moved to whisper into it.
“Why were you gone when I woke up?” He asked, his tone accusatory and much more serious than the other times.
You were surprised by the question and also his entire demeanor so you turned towards him, gripping a part of his uniform and dragging him by it to a corner where you were sure no one could see you.
You could see a proud smile on his face and he stepped closer as if he expected you to kiss him, but you pushed your hands against his chest, stopping him from approaching you further.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Seresin? What, did you think we’re a thing now? What the fuck is this, a guilt trip? Did you think I’d stay and play your housewife, did you expect a full course breakfast?” You whisper-shouted, and you saw his grin gradually fade from his lips.
It gave you great satisfaction until you saw it return as he spoke up again.
“Well, a coffee as a thank you for my service would have been enough,” he answered calmly, his eyes trained on you to register every small reaction.
You were too worn out to do much else than cross your arms over your chest defiantly and roll your eyes.
You were searching for an appropriate reply when he leaned closer to you, one of his arms reaching out towards you to steady himself on the wall behind you.
“You know,” he whispered, his lips brushing the lobe of your ear and you felt a shiver down your spine that made you hate yourself and him even more, “I’m always up for another round”.
Your eyelids fluttered in annoyance and you pulled away from him as far as you could, trying to look into his eyes to see if he was serious.
A scoff arose from your throat as you shook your head in distaste, turning around and turning your back to him to rejoin your other coworkers.
You had absolutely been miserably wrong about your feelings towards Hangman Seresin.
You were far from in love with him but you needed him on a much more primal level, you spent two weeks aching for him until you finally gave into it.
To say you loathed him was an understatement but you couldn’t stop thinking about that night, about your legs wrapped around him and the moans the left your mouths.
It was all a movie that ran endlessly in your head, overshadowing everything you did.
In addition to that you had had a rather frustrating day that made you feel angry and overwhelmed.
It left you help- and hopeless, and you acted on your desperation by knocking on his door again.
As if he had anticipated it he opened the door shirtless and in low hanging sweatpants, and you didn’t give him a chance to make a single cocky comment.
You connected your lips with his and pushed him backwards into his room, closing the door behind you with your foot as your hands roamed around his body in pure and utter desperation.
“Shit day, shit week, stress relief,” you breathed out as you pulled your own top over your head and walked him backwards to the nearest surface, finding a couch perfectly in place for it.
You pulled his sweats down as well as yours before you straddled him, your hand moving to his neck to keep him laying down.
“Don’t get in your own head, this is just for fun. You’re not bad and I didn’t have many immediate options. You can count yourself as lucky as me that you’re getting laid right now,” you said, and he nodded, before you started the show.
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tagging: @wildbornsiren @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @hederasgarden @letsfvckingdance @shadeds-library @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @midget713 @supernaturaldawning @gspenc @adorephina @gigisimsonmars @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bespinnn @softromantist @malindacath @oliviah-25 @kwanimations @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @marvelandotherfandomimagines @natasharomanoffisbaebby @luckyladycreator2 @blue-aconite @tipsykeen @airedale17 @iangiemae @dempy @princessofglitterland @teti-menchon0604 @butaneandthebeast @katesmadness @call-sign-hurricane @kajjaka @kkrenae @mavericksicybabe @kendra-rose @desert-fern @maniacalmedusa @mavrellover91
(please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist, or use this link)
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darkeunology · 5 hours
Text
♡ Love is the Warmest Colour ♡
Word Count: 3228 (I'm amazed it's this long)
Pairing: Derek Morgan x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of gunshot injuries, normal Criminal Minds violence, kidnapping, torture mentions (No explicit details)
Summary: In a world where soulmates feel each other's pain, you and Derek seem to be oblivious to each other's pains.
Not proof read. Not sure how I feel about this one tbh.
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Soulmate: Noun: A person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner. 
Everyone in the world had someone who was destined to be their soulmate. It was a tale told to every child as a bedtime story, the exact way soulmates were known to each other. Shared pain - all soulmates in the world feel each other’s pain, Every scratch, punch or bump, soulmates feel it all but are never left with the physical marks from the injuries. 
Maybe not so surprisingly, a lot of people never actually found their soulmates, getting injured close enough to your soulmate so that both of you would realise anything was quite rare a feat, most people gave up trying to find their soulmate by their 20s, not wanting to waste their life trying to find the person suited best for them. Including you, once you’d hit 25, you’d given up - you thought it would be great if you did ever find them, but you weren’t holding out hope for it anymore, you’d now just ignore any of the pains you’d ever felt from your soulmate, which annoyingly for you, was a very common occurrence. 
—---------
As a child, a common question that was asked during class was ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?’ Everyone else in the class would always have an answer to this, Vet, Astronaut, Writer, Fireman, to name a few, but you never once had an answer, never a clear one anyway, you had no idea what you actually wanted to do in life, and even once you’d finished high school, you chose to not go to college, instead choosing to unfortunately bounce between jobs, starting out at retail, before moving to waitressing until eventually moving to the job you were in now, a barista at your local coffee shop. 
It wasn’t quite the life you or your parents had ever imagined for you, but you were happy enough; sure, you were living paycheck to paycheck, and you weren’t really able to treat yourself as much as you’d wished to, but it worked for you, and now, being in your 20s, you weren’t really sure how you could do anything else with your life. 
It wasn’t until the day you very nearly died when you decided you wanted to do something different. 
You’d just finished a lunchtime shift at the coffee shop, planning to go to the store quickly before you went back to your apartment, a good friend of yours coming round to have a girls night together after a long week at work. You never managed to make it home that night. Whilst walking to the store, a van stopped next to you, a young man poking his head out the window, asking you how to get to the highway from where he was. After quickly telling him where to drive, you turned your back to the van, about to start walking again when you felt yourself be grabbed from behind, a large hand covering your mouth to stop a scream from escaping - no matter how hard you tried to fight off the hands on you, nothing would loosen his grip as he pulled you into the back of the van, landing a quick, hard punch to your head, knocking you out immediately. 
When you finally woke up, you were tied up on what felt like a dentist’s chair. All your clothes except for your underwear missing from your body. A shiver ran through your body from the chill in the room you were in, the chill getting worse when the men who kidnapped you walked into the room you were in, menacing smirks lining their faces. 
Once your friend hadn’t been able to get in contact with you after you’d failed to get back to your apartment after work, they called the police, knowing that you would never be late coming home without letting her know beforehand, she knew deep down something had happened to you, especially with the news recently of young women being kidnapped and murdered in the are you lived in. She’d seen on the news that the FBI had already been called in after the last murder after seeing the press conference on the news the other night, she told them everything they needed to know and hoped that they’d be able to find you in time. 
Unsure of just how much time it had been since you’d been kidnapped, all you could focus on was the pain running through your body from the hours of torture you’d had to endure. It felt like you’d been here for days when in reality it had only been a few hours. The only thing that had kept you going the whole time was the hope that your friend called someone when you never showed up to meet her at your apartment. That hope finally coming true when a tall, dark skinned man jogged into the room, FBI vest on his body and a gun held firmly in his hands, “I’ve got the victim.” he spoke into his comms before placing his gun back into his holster, walking up to you, a gentle smile on his face, “Hey, sweetheart. I’m agent Derek Morgan with the FBI. You’re safe now alright. Medics are on their way down.” he spoke gently, his hands moving to carefully untie you from the chair. 
Derek stuck by your side every moment until they put you in the back of the ambulance, keeping you comfortable as everything buzzed around you, only leaving you when the ambulance left for the hospital.
He was the one good thing you tried to focus on whenever you had nightmares about the kidnapping. It took months of therapy, months of being scared to leave your house alone again before you were finally ready and able to do something about your life. You guess it’s because of what you went through, but you decided that you wanted to do what was done for you, you wanted to help people in the worst moments of their lives; so you went back to school, studying criminal profiling and psychology, graduating 3 years later before luckily managing to get a position in the BAU, the same unit who saved you nearly 4 years previously.  
—--------
Derek remembered when he was told about soulmates by his parents, his sisters told him afterwards that they all had the same talk when they were the same age. He was told one night as he was being put to bed, his parents telling him that there was one special person in the world who was a perfect fit for him, a person who he might never find but someone that would never be better for him. He was told that was how his parents met each other, his dad being hurt during a police job with his mother luckily being close enough to him that they knew almost in that moment they were meant for each other. He was told that any physical pains he would ever have would be felt by his soulmate and any pains his soulmate had would have, he would feel himself. 
As Derek grew older, he never really put much thought into soulmates, he knew how unlikely it actually was that he’d ever meet his true soulmate, with just how big America was, and the fact they might not even be American. He just figured that if he was going to find his soulmate, it would happen naturally - so, like most people, he dated anyone he wanted to, not caring, nor worrying if they weren’t his soulmate. 
At night sometimes, as much as he would never tell people, he would often imagine what life might be like with his soulmate, or just exactly how he would meet them. He mildly envied the people who had actually managed to find their soulmate, wondering how they got so lucky with how large the world is. 
Sometimes Derek would think he didn’t even have a soulmate, he often wouldn’t feel any random pains, only sometimes getting a pain in his foot, almost like his soulmate had just stubbed their toe somewhere - or sometimes a harsh pain in his arm, maybe a needle injection or someone hitting their shoulder too hard as they walked past them. 
So, even as Derek was for some reason in a lot more pain than he normally was, he didn’t really think too much of it. He was used to pain from his job so it didn’t really feel like much to him, he thought you were just going through a bad day. 
He never connected the pieces, even after his pain stopped once you’d been rescued. 
—-------
Nervous was an understatement as you stood in the elevator going up to the BAU office, you hid it behind a gentle smile as the doors opened, asking the first person you saw how to find Aaron Hotchner’s office. 
After getting your directions, you headed through the glass doors into the main office, walking up to Hotchner’s office to the curious looks of the other members of the team. You knocked on the door, walking in once you’d heard a ‘come in’ from the other side of the door. 
“Hi. Aaron Hotchner?” you asked, a smile on your face as you held your box full of your things in your hands, 
The man nodded behind his desk, standing and walking round the other side to be able to shake your hand, something you were just able to do with the box you were balancing. “Hi, yes. You must be Y/N,” he spoke, waiting for your nod of acknowledgement before he continued, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Everyone else has just gone into the meeting room. I’ll show you your desk then we’ll go up to meet everyone.” he explained, a small smile on his face the whole time, before he led you out of his office, quickly showing you your desk so you could place the box down before leading you up to the meeting room, walking in before you, “Everyone, meet our new agent, this is Y/N L/N.” he spoke to the team, 
It took a moment for everyone to introduce themselves, Derek was the last to speak, “You seem familiar,” he spoke after he’d said his name. Everyone else took that to mean something different, since they all knew what Derek was like most of the time, so they were surprised when they heard Spencer speak, “Yeah, he’s right.” Causing the rest of the team to try and remember why two of their team knew your face. 
Sighing lightly, you glanced at Aaron, who already knew of your past, he nodded gently, signalling that you can tell them if you wanted to, “I must just have a familiar face.” you spoke, shrugging your shoulders. 
Thankfully for you, the team dropped it. Derek still giving you looks every so often, trying to figure out where he knew you from. 
—----
It had been a few weeks of working in the BAU, you’d managed to fit into the team really well. Already going on many girls nights with JJ, Emily and Garcia. You got on with the males in your team as well, but nowhere near as well as the girls. Garcia being the one you told everything to, including the day you were kidnapped and rescued by the BAU, and opening up to her about the small feelings you had for a certain Derek Morgan.
You’d also had a lot more pains from your soulmate in the past few weeks, nothing too bad, just some hard hits every so often, one being a nasty hit on your ribs one day at the end of a case, you standing with Emily and practically doubling over in the sudden pain that shot through your abdomen, “You good?” Emily asked, concern laced through her voice, 
“Yeah.” you gasped out, “I don’t know what happened, that just really hurt for a moment.”
“Must be your soulmate.” Emily spoke, you nodded in response, 
“Yeah, it must be.”
When you and Emily found out that Derek had been shot in his abdomen, luckily only causing a harsh bruise due to his vest, Emily was the only one who connected the dots about the pain you felt that day, deciding not to tell anyone else about her thoughts. 
—-----
“You alright sugar?” Garcia spoke when she saw Derek, noticing the obvious look of discomfort on his face, 
“Yeah, baby girl. Just got an awful headache, I took painkillers ages ago and it just hasn’t done anything.” he spoke, rubbing his temples, he knew from the fact that painkillers hadn’t worked that it would be a soulmate pain, 
“Soulmate maybe?” Garcia spoke, 
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” He spoke, smiling at Garcia before getting back to work. 
It wasn’t until he sat down at his desk and saw you taking some painkillers when something clicked, “You good Y/N?” Derek asked, grabbing your attention and the attention of Emily who was sitting nearby at her desk. 
“Really bad headache. Painkillers are only helping a small amount.” you sighed. 
Emily was only looking towards Derek, a knowing look on her face, watching as Derek looked towards her, realisation slowly showing on his face, “Let me know if I can do anything to help.” he spoke, before turning back around, his only thought being that his soulmate was potentially his colleague. 
—----------
Oftentimes when you’d come into work, you’d go into Garcia’s bat cave, getting her some coffee and having a little chat before the work began.
A knock on the door interrupted you and Garcia this morning, “We’re meeting now. We have a new case.” JJ spoke as she poked her head in, her face looking grim. Both of you stood, grabbing your coffee mugs and heading over to the meeting room, being the last two to come in,
“We’re going to Florida.” JJ spoke, turning on the TV on the wall, “There’s been a series of murders, all women in their late 20s, all being found dumped in remote areas.” 
“Any sexual assault?” Derek asked.
“All of them had signs of sexual assault, yes.” JJ answered. “Newest victim is Stephanie Leigh, she was kidnapped yesterday evening after a night out at a local club.”
“All of these women were killed two days after they were kidnapped, meaning we have under 48 hours to find her alive.” Hotch spoke, his face serious like always, “Wheels up in 20.” he finished, getting up from his seat first as everyone else followed. 
—--------
You and Derek were in the car driving to the club where the recent victim was taken from, 
“I think I figured out where I remember you from.” Derek spoke, filling the silence that had surrounded you both for a while, 
“Oh yeah.” you spoke, knowing that Derek probably had, and dreading having to tell him he was right. 
“I think around 4 years ago, maybe more, we were called out to a local kidnapping case, the local cops were investigating someone kidnapping local young females and murdering them after torturing them for a few days, normally 2, but he’d accelerated his timeline on the last victim. We’d found the last body then a few hours later we were told of someone else being kidnapped - it was you.” He turned to look at you for a moment before putting his eyes back on the road,
“You were the one that found me first.” you spoke. Silence filled the car again for a moment, “I never told any of you purely because I just wanted to try and forget about it. I figured some of you might recognise me, but I hoped that you’d rescued so many people that you wouldn't necessarily remember one person you’d helped. Clearly though, you knew, and I think so does Spencer.” you looked towards Derek, “I’ll tell everyone else eventually” 
“I’m sorry for bringing it up,” he spoke quietly, 
“Don’t be.” You shook your head, “I needed to thank you anyway. All of you really. But you stayed by my side from the moment you found me until the ambulance left,” you paused, looking back at Derek, “I don’t think you realise how much I appreciated that.” you finished quietly, a sad tone in your voice. 
Derek turned and nodded gently at you, not saying anything else until you guys arrived at the club, continuing on with the case you were working. 
—--------
“I think we found our guy.” Hotch spoke after Garcia had finished her round of research she was given, the team headed out, finding the warehouse where the unsub should be holding the missing girl, rushing to get there before he murdered her just like the others. 
Spencer and you went round the back together along with some swat agents and other cops, checking each room until you saw the unsub running from you both, alerting the agents who were left outside, Derek being one of them. 
“We found the victim, she’s alive.” Emily spoke into the comms, just before Hotch spoke, 
“Offender running on foot northwest, me and Derek are in pursuit.” Spencer, you, Emily and Rossi all ran out of the warehouse, knowing the victim was safe with the rest of the police and the medics, hopping in one of the SUVs and going out to find Hotch and Derek. 
All in one moment, the most intense pain you’d felt before rang through your shoulder and your leg, causing you to yelp out in pain, making everyone else in the car jump, “Y/N!” Spence exclaimed, being the one sitting next to you in the back, “You okay?” he asked, at the same time Hotch spoke on the radio, 
“Shots fired, Agent down. I need medics to my location.” he practically shouted, the message finishing just as the SUV turned the corner to the alley they were in, Derek on the floor with Hotch knelt next to him. 
Confusion rung through you, the realisation never actually hitting you due to the pain in your body distracting you too much to think straight, “I can’t believe you’re a profiler and you haven’t figured it out yet.” Emily chuckled lightly, looking towards you with disbelief. 
“What?” you asked dumbly, 
“Get out the car and go to your damn soulmate.” she spoke again. You didn’t even think twice once the realisation hit you in the face, you jumped out the car, kneeling on the other side of Derek, one hand cupping his face, 
“Hey sweetheart.” he spoke, a small smile on his face even through the pain of the wounds. 
“Hey soulmate.” you smiled, “That hurt quite a lot you know?” finishing with a chuckle, Derek also chuckling before groaning in pain. “Sorry.” you whispered, noticing the pain he was in. 
“I’m taking you on a date once I’m better.” Derek told you, one of his hands coming to hold yours which was still on his face. 
“You better.” chuckling, you leant down and laid a small kiss on Derek’s forehead as the rest of the team watched on, smiles on their faces, relieved that the two of you finally figured it all out, even if you needed Emily to spell it out for you to realise.
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phyrestartr · 1 month
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Icarus, I Am Devoted | Sukuna x M!Reader (Teaser!!)
[#Modern AU, ABO dynamics, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, sukuna has FEELINGS, but he is BAD AT FEELINGS, nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort]
A/N: LET'S GOOOOOOO I love this shit and wanted to share a piece for vibes as I continue to write it lol lmk what you think!!
☆☆☆
Sukuna didn't like Yuuji getting caught up in his business.
He was too brash, thought himself too badass for the world to take down, thought gang life wasn't as bad as the world made it out to be, just because his older brother was involved. Sukuna didn't know where the fuck he got that idea–the tattooed menace had killed people, stolen money, sold shit that ruined lives. It was fun for him, sure, but not so much for bystanders.
“You're an idiot,” Sukuna growled as he dragged his brother into his office and threw him at the chaise lounge while they waited for their doctor on demand.
“H-hey, come on, man! It's, uh, it's not even that bad–” Yuuji grimaced, though, holding at the wound gushing blood from his arm. “You've had worse!”
Sukuna laughed bitterly as his henchmen flooded the room and made necessary preparations for their aid's arrival. “You and I are fucking built different, Yuuji--you’re too damn soft for–”
“I'm not,” Yuuji snapped, honeyed eyes blazing. “I can help you.”
Sukuna laughed again, then ripped his plush, leather chair across the room, sending it hurtling into the expensive ebony walls he encased his place of business in. He roared in overwhelming fury as it clattered to the floor.
“How hard is it for you to listen? How come you can never just fucking–”
“Yelling won't solve things,” your cool voice interrupted as you hurried into the room, medical bag in hand. “I thought you learned that by now.”
Sukuna whirled on his heel. His hands were still fisted in his hair and his blood boiled, but now, there existed an explosive tension with you in the room.
You, his pretty little omega. The one he chased away. The one he still craved. The one that drove him insane.
“Uraume,” Sukuna growled, crimson eyes locking onto his most devoted.
“My apologies,” they said with a pensive look and deep bow, “he was the only one willing to come.”
“So mind your manners, or I'll let your brother bleed out,” you said airily, so haughty and bitchy and annoying. But Sukuna knew you wouldn't let Yuuji die. You wouldn't let him suffer with a wound like that–you were too fond of the little brat.
Sukuna snarled in frustration and fixed his jacket with sharp tugs. “Just fix him.”
He stalked away, ignoring the way Yuuji yelled at him before preening at you as you tended to him. Sukuna knew his brother had a bit of a thing for you, his bitch, which caused more than a handful of problems with the two arguing and fighting for your affections. Naturally, you chose Sukuna. Of course you would.
The alpha's frustrations boiled, reducing the rage in his gut into simmering desire. He leaned his head back against the elevator mirror with a sigh as it shot up toward the penthouse--the one you, too, used to occupy. The one where you'd spread your legs for him, drowning in expensive, black silk sheets while he bred you like the good little thing you were. The one where you'd cook for him if (when) you woke up before him the morning after. The one where you first whispered I love you against his skin when you thought he was asleep.
The elevator doors dinged open, and he stormed out, eager to rid himself of the tightness pulling at his slacks. A cigar and a drink sounded good, too.
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brandnewhuman · 2 years
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SLASHERS TAKING
CARE OF
A CHILD!READER
(PART TWO)
☆STARRING☆
!!Jesse cromeans - Thomas Hewitt!!
CONTENT:
Tw: canon violence, mentions of child neglect and/or abuse (not from the slashers), murder, blood, mention of scars, mentions of child loss. Peepaw myers is here so yeah, careful with that too
A/N: @bubbaswife and @visi-0ns asked for another slashy daddies taking care of a child!reader. Honestly i love doing this so much :') the stabby men deserve a nice happy family. Well maybe not but still, they're nice with kids cause I said so. I think I hurt my own feelings with this one :'). As always, this is strictly platonic. The relationship between reader and slasher is strictly of father/kid relationship. Do not interact with me if you're a pedophile or you want underage reader having mature relationships with the slashers. That being said ^^ enjoy it
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JESSE CROMEANS:
We're all going to cry together with the one alright? NO ONE OF YOU IS GOING TO GET MERCY FROM ME WITH JESSE BEING A DAD
we all know what happen to Jesse's wife and baby so obviously the whole family subject with Jesse is still a sensitive topic 
I think that Jesse is shown to be so worried about his job not because he doesn't care about his wife and kid but because it's the only thing he has left 
His face, his family, the victim that had caused so much trouble to him and now losing the only thing that's left for him to do? Yeah no. 
Listen here, I love to give unnecessary background to characters that I love and my headcanon for everything that Jesse does is basically growing up in the most atrocious conditions. Without enough money or resources to actually have a healthy lifestyle and be safe. He has seen and lived so many bad things that in the end he chose to do whatever he could to not live again like that. 
AND YES I SAY IT'S LIKE THAT BECAUSE I'M PROJECTING ONTO HIM MY TRAUMAS. I WANT TO RELATE TO HIM AND HE DOESN'T REALLY HAS A BACKSTORY SO IF I SAY IT IS LIKE THAT THEN IT IS >:( 
I always thought that Jesse was super excited to have a baby and to start a family. When that face thing happen he was crushed by the thought of his kid having to see him like that or that his wife would've never want him again
And then it was kinda hard to explain how could he possibly have got injured so bad
So, now he is fully back as chromeskull right? And with nothing to lose anymore he's more of a menace than he was before 
One of his new "piggies'' happens to be your mother. I'm sorry, it sucks but it is what it is 
He has followed her for weeks, studying every aspect of her life to learn more about her and how to get the most out of this kill 
But only one thing has escaped his observant eye 
That thing being the fact that she's a mom. 
He knows that she lives in one of the worst neighbourhoods of town, that she has little to no money and that's why she has to work almost all day, that her house looks like a mess. 
He hasn't noticed you living with her cause there was almost nothing that could've been a clue that a child lived there. 
I'm sorry if your mom is nice I just like to put unnecessary angst and drama ç_ç my mom is nice too I swear 
Anyhow, your mom is known for being really bad at her job as a mom. Not her fault, she did try but between the financial problems and her temper getting short after hours of working shitty jobs for nothing. 
When Jesse broke up in your house he went straight to your mom's room with the idea of kidnapping her in the same way he did with Princess since it would be easier. 
Your mom however did not go down without a fight and before getting knocked out she managed to take Jesse's mask and scratch him in the face.
Knowing he had time he just went to the bathroom to clean the wound 
That's when you saw him. You woke up to go to the bathroom just to find a tall baldy man standing there 
He looked at you and froze as if he was terrified. How could he not have noticed this before?
His racing thoughts stopped for a second as he took in your appearance 
You're obviously at least 6-7 years old but you looked too small to be considered healthy. It was clear you were not getting enough sleep, your clothes looked really old and too big for you even tho they were clean. 
It didn't take much for Jesse to connect the dots and realise you were the woman's child. 
"Are you one of mommy's friends??" You were not even scared of him and his face. You even offer your avengers band aids for the scratch on his face. 
He nodded at your offer without thinking about it and crouched in front of you to let you put the band aids on his face. 
He couldn't explain why he allowed you to do all of this but he just couldn't say no. He told himself it was just to keep you from getting him in trouble by screaming ecc but the reality was far from that
He couldn't find it in himself to hurt you or be mean when it was clear you already had too much going on
If it was the Jesse before the face incident ecc he would have not hesitated this much 
After all the things he has went through, seeing you and how you were growing up were making a number in his merciless resolution 
The reminder of his past life plus the fresh wound of having lost his future child is not letting him think straight 
You were obviously used to having strangers around if you were this comfortable in talking to a unknown man in your bathroom at 2am
When you finished decorating his face with all your silly band aids he just holded your tiny hand between his thumb, index and middle finger to shake it slightly as if he was saying thank you. 
The smile you gave him was this close 🤏🏻 to kill him
He spent the next hour listening to everything you were telling him, keeping you company while you went to grab some water. 
Jesse has lived his entire life acting upon his most disturbing urges and intrusive thoughts, he wasn't new to having the impulse to do something but nothing compared to the need of taking you away from that house. 
He just couldn't leave you there, he knew it was his grieving mind talking but he just couldn't 
Maybe this was actually meant to be. Him having finally the opportunity to make up for what he has caused to his kid 
Okay I have to make Jesse a little bit unhinged here but bear with me
He kills your mom (obv), makes sure you end up in a foster home so he can adopt you without any problems. The excuse he gives you is that he was you mom's best friend and he promised her he would take care of you if something happened 
The first thing he's going to do for you is getting you checked by a doctor to know what he has to do to get you back to a healthy form 
He obviously knows you're going to be a little bit reserved and close at first but he doesn't mind, he'll wait for you to come around forever if it's necessary 
You admittedly felt so happy that he decided to take care of you and bring you home with him. You knew that he was nice since the night you first met him. All the others friends of your mom were always so rude and mean with you, but Jesse was like so kind 
He has taken some free time from work to look after you. 
My man here is having the time of his life with all this parenthood things 
Being as disgustingly rich as he is, Jesse makes sure you have everything and anything you may need or want
In fact as the first bonding experience he had with you he took you to chose things for your new room
He assured you that money was not a problem and you could pick anything you want. 
It was so cute cause everytime you wanted to see something from unclose but was too high for you to reach he would lift you up. He always asked you first to make sure you weren't uncomfortable 
After three times you both decided to just keep you on his shoulders for the rest of the day
He obviously took you to have a well deserved after shopping ice-cream 
He's always so careful and gentle with you. He always tries to be thoughtful about your needs and boundaries and even if he's dying to give you all the fatherly affection and attention he wants he never tries to overstep your limits or to force you into receiving or giving affection you don't really feel
He has made his mission tho to have all the father/child experiences like teaching you how to go on a bike, taking you to school ecc
He eventually has to go back to work but he always makes sure to talk or video call with you every day if he's away from home. And it's never like those awkward calls where you don't know what to tell him and your father doesn't really care nono
MY BABY IS SO INVESTED IN EVERYTHING YOU TELL HIM AND IT'S ALWAYS SO READY FOR THE SCHOOL DRAMA YOU MIGHT HAVE THAT DAY. HE ALWAYS MAKES PLANS TOO ABOUT WHAT YOU BOTH SHOULD DO ONCE HE'S HOME
when he doesn't have to travel far from home, he works from home so he can spend time with you
If he sees you defend him and squaring up with anyone who calls him ugly it will make him cry 
You always worry about him spending too much time alone tho, so you have being trying to play the matchmaker talking to your favourite teacher about how cool and handsome your dad is 
Truth be told Jesse doesn't really care about having a partner right now, he just needs you. Having his wonderful kid healthy and happy around is enough for Mr baldy man here
Now if you excuse me, I'll go cry about this now. 
THOMAS HEWITT:
Surprisingly enough Thomas and his family are not responsible for your parents death. 
Hoyt found you covered in blood, alone and on the brink of having a heatstroke. 
Your family was killed by a bunch of pieces of shit who wanted to steal a car. 
Unfortunately they killed your parents for nothing cause they ended up meeting their fate as dinner for the Hewitt family
You have been walking for days, you manage to survive because your mom told you to hide somewhere. 
Now you're all alone and if it wasn't for hoyt stopping next to you you'll probably have died from dehydration and exhaustion 
Hoyt for once is useful, shocking right?
Anyway, when he was about to ask you why you were all alone ecc you straight up passed out in front of him
Hoyt couldn't leave you there, I mean he is a piece of shit but you were only a kid. Wouldn't be older than 5-6 
Everyone at home decided that you were going to stay and you wouldn't be killed. It didn't felt right to do that to such a young child
Mama mae took it upon herself to help you recover from all that heat ecc 
Since you needed to have always someone checking on you and luda at some point was too tired the task was given to Thomas
Most awkward man alive bro
But at the same time it was almost second nature for him to take care of someone even if he has never take care of a child 
Always made sure you were having enough water, changing the wet cloth on your forehead when it got too warm 
Once you get better and you tell everyone what has happen they all take the responsibility of raising you and protecting you
Now I know I KNOW…you want to see the juicy dad Thomas content 
Once you're feeling better (mostly because he has spent all the time watching over you with the excuse that if something happen since he's the youngest and strongest in the house he would be able to take care of it) he just well..he doesn't stay around you that much 
You're really small and you're so young he feels like he would end up hurting you
Thomas feels like his appearance ecc would be traumatising for someone so young (yeah I know, Thomas needs some love) 
What he doesn't know is that saw him lots of times when he was taking care of you. He thinks that because of the state in which you were you wouldn't remember much but you did
Plus, when you asked luda mae she told you the truth. 
Surprisingly everyone was really nice with you, even hoyt which says a lot
Luda adores you and she's starting to be almost like a grandma for you. 
You miss your family a lot and you're genuinely happy that mama mae and the others decided to keep you with them 
You have no other relatives and you would've been alone otherwise. 
At first you were kind of distant with them and you had a hard time with giving them your trust
They all were so patient and gentle with you. They never pushed you into doing anything and always asked what you wanted or needed 
Luda is probably the one you spend most time with cause she reminds you of your mom
When you told her she had to focus really hard to not cry in front of you. 
You asked lots of questions to luda mae about Thomas cause since you got better you haven't seen him once
She told you that he's just a little bit shy because it's hard for him to be around people
You, being the sweet little thing you are, made it your mission to befriend the gentle giant. 
You waited at night, when everyone went to sleep you went down to the kitchen hided hoping that eventually Thomas would go there for something 
The first few times you didn't have any luck but one day it finally worked
You this behemoth of a man walking in the kitchen, his face looked angry from sleepiness and since he thought no one was around he did had the mask 
You had never saw him without it obviously but you're first thought when seeing his bare fare was not of fear or disgust
Your 6 year old mind went to the conclusion that he was scare of you because you're someone new and maybe new people tended to be mean to him
And honestly the thought of him having to be alone cause everyone is rude to him made you even more resolute in your decisions of making friends. 
Truth be told you scared the shit out of him popping out of nowhere like this and he immediately tried to just walk away
"No wait!! I didn't want to scare you Mr Thomas!! I won't be mean with you I promise!!" You tugged on his huge hand at the best of your abilities to keep him from running way
Thomas just stopped dead in his tracks when he felt your little hands holding him back. He was in panic and honestly it was kinda funny to see someone so big be scared of a kid 
He thought that maybe you didn't see his face well enough and that was the only reason why you were not screaming. 
"I saw your face..it's not ugly at all!! I won't make fun of you I promise!" 
In the end he had to give in cause the need to not hurt your feelings was bigger than the need to hide away
He turned to face you and then kneeled in front of you so he could see you without breaking his neck to look down
You smiled and extended your hand towards him to introduce yourself and he hesitantly took it
You told him that you saw him taking care of you and that you were really thankful for that. 
Thomas had to admit you were the most kind and sweetest kid he has ever met 
Thankfully you catched up really quickly on the fact that he couldn't talk 
"That's okay!! Maybe you can write it down! Or draw it" 
He asked you why you were awake and you told him that besides wanting to meet him you couldn't sleep well. You kept having nightmares about your parents but you didn't want to bother hoyt or luda 
Thomas was absolutely heartbroken. He can't even imagine how hard it is to lose your family, he would be devastated if something happened to luda mae (and honestly just a little bit sad if anything happens to hoyt. Won't dwell too much on it tbh)
So he just sat with you on the couch and put on something on the TV for you to watch 
When he noticed you fell asleep he gently adjusted you so you were laying on the couch completely and went to look for a blanket to put on you. 
He stayed with you all night, making sure you didn't woke up again
From then you were practically attached to Thomas's hip. 
You always went looking for them, showing him things you have done with hoyt of luda, bringing him things to drink or eat as an excuse to talk with him
And honestly he didn't mind one bit. He liked when you told him your silly stories or when you gave him drawings which he kept and treasured as his most precious possession. 
He slowly started to be less and less awkward around you. 
He basically replaced luda in all those things such making you meals, keeping you clean and healthy or tending to any scratches or wounds you may get from playing outside. 
It started with things like playing old board games together, you waiting for him to eat lunch and talk about cool stuff you wanted to show him
It went to Thomas playing tag with you in the backyard, him getting you on his shoulders cause you liked when he did it, him letting you play with his hair and give him new hairstyles (which he sported proudly around the house) or simply having some iced tea sitting on the porch together. 
You knew Thomas worked a lot, on what you couldn't tell, but you noticed how tired he was always so those moments sitting on the porch, sitting on his lap and just dozing off together were your favourites 
Having you around has helped him a lot. He's used to taking care of everyone and he's certainly used to people abusing his kindness but you had that heartwarming child way of always worrying for him. You never took for granted anything he did and you always make sure do for him as much as he did for you in your little kid capabilities 
Every time there was a "guest" Thomas made you stay in your room. He told you that sometimes guests are not really nice so he didn't want anyone to hurt you
After guests were gone there always a few days where you were not allowed to go to the basement but you didn't mind too much 
One of the days where you were staying in your room because of the guests. You were working in a very special drawing cause luda told you that soon it would be Thomas birthday, when you heard someone screaming
You immediately went into a panic state and images of your parents death flashed in your mind so without thinking you run downstairs to were the screams were coming from 
I- I'm SORRY OKAY? I COULDN'T SAVE US FROM THE TRAUMA. YOU'LL HAVE TO LIVE WITH IT
The screams were coming from the basement and that scared you even more cause you thought Thomas was in danger 
When you went in and saw what was happening you couldn't even move. 
Thomas didn't noticed because he was too focused on keeping the victim down
"Thomas?..." when I tell you this man heart stopped and dropped five feet down below the fucking ground I'm not joking
He wanted to explain but he knew there was not a good enough explanation for all of this. 
You just made your way to the basement and went to your room where you stayed for a couple of days without talking to anyone. You didn't told them to not get it in or anything but you didn't reply to any of their questions 
Thomas was having the most horrible time of his life. The guilt was eating him alive and he couldn't even eat or sleep because how stressed he was
Eventually they decided to tell you as gently as possible what was going on. They knew that all of this would take a toll in your mind but they couldn't really do anything else.
Surprisingly, when you learned the true motive for all of this you were really accepting. Maybe it's because you were just a kid and you didn't really knew all the implications of this situation but for you, having to survive was more than enough to excuse all of this
It was so much that you in fact felt bad for treating them with silence, especially with Thomas. 
So, taking the excuse of giving him his birthday present you went to search for him in the basement now that it was all clean ecc
You tugged on the hem of his shirt to get his attention
He looked at you like he did the first time you saw him. You explained that now you knew everything and that you were sorry for being bad. 
"I know now…I know you're not bad" you gave him your drawing. It had the Hewitt house drawn on it, there was Thomas, monty, hoyt and luda. Everyone had on top their name
Uncle hoyt, grandma mae, uncle monty and then there was the "my new dad" title above Thomas. 
Congrats, now you made Tommy cry
He gave you the biggest bear hug ever and even force his vocals cords to mumble a low and raspy thank you
He never wanted to take the role of dad from your real father but he wasn't about to say no if you wanted him to be your dad
He did a pretty damn job too. After that he never left anything happen to you, he make sure you wouldn't have to be alone or scare ever again
His favourite moments were when you asked him to stay with you until you fell asleep. He would hold you in his arms and even if he always told himself he would just put you in bed and then head to his own room, he always ended up falling asleep holding you tight 
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apuckishwit · 1 year
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Platonic Max and Eddie: “want me to stay?”
(Only if you’re still accepting prompts, of course! ❤️)
“Want me to stay?”
The offer is made quietly. Softly. Barely a whisper that nonetheless carries across the width of the downstairs guestroom in the Harrington house. She still insists on calling it a guestroom, even though it’s hers now for all intents and purposes. It’s been her room for months, but she’s still not quite ready to admit that. Not quite ready to admit that her mother isn’t going to be coming back for her—to take her back to the rebuilt trailer park, or another apartment, or even out of Hawkins altogether. No one can find Susan Mayfield and Max isn’t sure if her mother is one of the many victims of the fissures that had ripped through Hawkins last year or if she sought shelter somewhere else and just doesn’t know that Max survived or if she did know and just chose to leave anyway. Start somewhere new.
Max doesn’t know which option to hope for.
So she calls her room at Steve’s place the guestroom and Steve lets her, nodding along even as he uses the credit card his parents have never stopped payments on even though he’s supposed to be cut off to buy her furniture she likes and clothes she can maneuver into and out of easily on bad pain days and any color of paint she wants for the walls.
She shifts now on the bed, letting the big, fluffy comforter that El helped her pick out fall from her shoulders, and clicks the light on the bedside table. Eddie is lounging in her—the—doorway, hair a wild nest of tangles, dressed in flannel pants and a Hawkins High basketball team shirt that she knows will say Harrington on the back.
“Heard, uh, heard you yelling,” Eddie says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You’d sleep through an air raid,” she mutters, sharp and short, but Eddie just shrugs.
“Steve heard you yelling and woke me up,” he amends.
Neither of them have outright said anything, but they all know Eddie spends more nights here than anyone else except Max herself, and those nights are most certainly not spent in one of the other guestrooms.
And here is the thing.
On her good days—days when her limbs don’t ache quite as much, when she feels like she can walk for a while, when her head isn’t aching and her now shitty, shitty vision isn’t blurring worse—she wants Lucas and El. Dustin. Will and Mike, and now Nancy and Robin. She wants her friends (and more in the case of Lucas), wants to go out into Hawkins…to the newly-rebuilt arcade, or to one of the restaurants that are slowly coming back. She wants to claw back any bit of normalcy she can. She wants to smile and laugh with El, and hold Lucas’s hand and let him play with her hair and kiss her like she’s something beautiful and precious when the others are distracted.
On physical therapy days, or days where she knows she has to do her exercises or she’s going to regret it later, she wants Steve. She wants his firm, sure grip on her hands or shoulders, wants his steady presence at her back, wants the way he never coddles her, but also never, ever lets her fall. She wants the way he knows when she can push her muscles and when she really does need to slow down and take a break and the way he lets her rage and snarl and snap at him and just takes it in stride, bitching right back to her the way some of the others still seem afraid to do.
In the night, though…when the dreams won’t let her rest, when every shadow seems to be too dark, too menacing, when she swears she hears a growling, evil voice just underneath the wind, she wants Eddie.
El and Will are the ones who understand what Vecna and the Upside Down did to her best. But Eddie understands it all. The horror of being used by Vecna to hurt their friends. The terror of thinking they would never find a way out, that they’d be trapped and forgotten in that hellscape forever. But Eddie also understands that sometimes her dreams aren’t of Vecna at all. That some monsters can grow in the human world—no horrific government agencies, or interdimensional hell beings needed. Eddie understands all the ways a hard life can break you down, all the ways that people who are supposed to love you and care for you can let you down hard. And he understands all the sharp bits she had to develop to protect herself, is never cut by them the way the others are sometimes, because he had to develop them himself once upon a time, had to keep some of them even after he came to live with his uncle.
Max knows her friends all love her. Accept her. Will never leave her.
But Eddie gets her.
She doesn’t answer his question verbally, but gives a slow nod. Eddie just grins, scrambling into the room and immediately grabbing the overstuffed armchair in the corner and dragging it over to sit by the bed. He flops into it dramatically, and kicks his legs up onto the foot of the bed.
“So, fair maiden, shall I find something to read, shall we discuss the truly hilarious display that was Mike Wheeler trying to convince Hopper that those condoms that fell out of his backpack weren’t his—spoiler alert, they weren’t, teach that little shit to try and peek at my DM notes—”
“I knew it was you!” Max laughs, the tension already draining from her shoulders. She sits back against the headboard, tucking her comforter around her more securely. Sleep probably won’t be coming for a while, but the shadows aren’t as deep and Eddie’s voice drowns out the wind and though Steve never intrudes on their little bubble, she knows eventually the scent of hot chocolate is going to drift in from the kitchen.
Maybe tomorrow will be a good day.
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