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mypoisonedvine · 1 year

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𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘧𝘶𝘭 || joel miller x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 || joel wasn't looking for a follower, or a protégé, or an employee— whatever you're supposed to be— when he saved some dumbass kid from a couple runners. but he ended up with you anyways, and you swore to always be faithful to him... in every way.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 || 9.2k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 || smut (18+ only; oral f receiving, unprotected sex, very slight dacryphilia kinda?, a touch of degradation and dumbification in there, and virginity loss with some pain and one mention of blood), heavy age gap (not specified but the reader is absolutely an adult), insecure crybaby reader, unrequited love/pining, reader wants to fuck joel so bad it makes her look stupid (and we love that for her cause same), angst, tess getting kinda screwed over but only because it's absolutely necessary for the plot, emotionally repressed joel, mention of reader's parents being deceased (implied to be infected)

this fic does not contain spoilers for anything but minor details from episode one!

They were doing that thing again— where they talked in front of you, as if you weren’t there.

“So we make the run tonight,” Tess decided, standing while Joel sat on the worn-out sofa with his hands clasped and his elbows resting on his knees. “We should be back by four, that’s when the FEDRA boys have their shift change, so we can avoid too much risk of getting caught.”

“What should I do?” you piped up. They both looked at you with that oh yeah, she’s here glare and Tess sighed; she didn’t try very hard to hide her frustration with you, but at the same time, she was actually nice to you when she was in a good mood (which was rare). Joel was less mean but also less nice— he stayed steady in his neutral-to-mildly-irritated state, and you figured if he wanted you to fuck off, he would’ve said so (probably in those exact words, too).

At the same time, they both instructed you flatly: “Keep watch.”

You sighed, shoulders sinking. “Again? Can’t I at least—?”

“You’re safer here,” Joel insisted.

“Yeah, and your gun is safer in the box under the bed, but it’s not gonna do shit to protect you if you never take it out,” you countered.

Tess scoffed. “And what are you gonna do to protect us?”

“I wasn’t,” you admitted. “You know I’m a great shot, but I wasn’t gonna try to shoot anybody. I’m quieter than both of you. I can get in and out better— and nobody’s looking for me. Everybody knows you’re smuggling—”

“Not everybody,” Joel defended himself in a mumble.

“ — so if I do get caught, I can probably get out of a search,” you bargained.

“And what are you gonna do to get out of a search?” Tess smirked. “Bat your eyelashes?”

That did sting, but you rolled your eyes and hoped you had effectively looked like it didn’t affect you at all. “If implying that I’m pretty enough to get out of a search is supposed to be an insult, I can’t wait to hear one of your compliments, Tess,” you replied— but your voice was soft and almost shaky, not as confident as the comeback merited.�� That summarized you pretty well: you had the will to be tough, but when it was time to really go for it, your body failed you and your hands got shaky and your eyes watered. Almost anything could make you cry, Tess had already made fun of you for it; Joel just seemed to get really uncomfortable when you started crying, but you always did your best to hide it from him. It just didn’t usually work.

Your whole face probably lit up when you caught Joel’s suppressed smile— did he think your joke was funny? He hadn’t been smiling when Tess made fun of you, so it had to be what you said— or maybe he was thinking of something he would say if he cared enough to say it, some comment about how you could do more than that to get out of being searched. He didn’t seem the type to make comments like that, but he was well aware what guards might let (or make) a girl do to avoid punishment.

“Whatever,” Tess decided, shaking her head, “you’re not coming with us, that’s the point.”

“Joel gets a say, too!” you blurted out. “You can’t just pick for him that I’m not coming, he has to—”

“You’ll stay here,” he interrupted. So much for getting Joel to let you go— you thought maybe he would side with you, for once. Deflating, you nodded, and they stopped paying attention to you at the same time that you stopped paying attention to them.

Your mind wandered in times like this, when they were talking and it was clear that it didn’t concern you; Tess said once that you had an ‘overactive imagination’, but she hadn’t said it in a really mean way (like she said most things). You didn’t want Joel to think that you were always daydreaming, but you couldn’t help it sometimes— you really just hoped that he didn’t know he was the subject of so many of your thoughts.

Truth was, he’d caught your eye long before he even knew you existed. You’d seen him around, doing all those odd jobs he did to make ends meet, and thought he was… well, handsome, but not just that. Mysterious. Intimidating, though he didn’t exactly intimidate you— okay, he did, but not like he did everybody else. He intimidated others because they were afraid he would hurt them; he intimidated you because you kind of wanted him to hurt you. Not, you know, bad, just… maybe a hand around the neck or pinning you to a wall or something?

It wasn’t in spite of your inexperience that you had thoughts like that— it was because of it; you had been lonely for a long, long time, and maybe it was just fantasy, but you always wanted someone like Joel. You wanted someone to take care of you, protect you. You were just guessing that he was capable of that, but he proved it when you met for the first time.

It wasn’t exactly a meet-cute, or even just a pleasant way to meet; you were short on rations, because you’d given most of yours away to Mrs. Davis who was too old and weak now to earn any extra for herself, and someone offered to pay you ten if you snuck something they could sell out of the old mall in the QZ… well, that went about as poorly as anyone would’ve expected.

You asked Joel what he was doing there, after he’d saved you from the runners, but he refused to tell you. Either way, it was the best luck you ever had that he showed up and fought them off. For a moment, he’d held you close to him as he pulled you away from the Infected; you wished, later, that you hadn’t been too terrified to appreciate that.

Ever since, you’d sworn yourself to him— in more ways than one, but he only knew about the main one: you wanted to assist him however you could, figuring after he saved your life that you should dedicate it to his service. Well, Joel had never been interested in your assistance, or anything else about you. It was actually Tess' idea to let you stay: "if she wants to help, let her do it for free," she whispered to Joel, and he shrugged, and he did. That was how it ended up like this: you were the squeaky, wobbly third wheel of Joel and Tess’ operation, more often than not doing the least important work if not filling your time with essentially goose-chase tasks they invented to keep you occupied. Keep watch and listen to the radio were your biggest assignments; just wait here was another common one, when they were too lazy to call it one of the other two.

Tess left a little while later, and Joel laid down on the sofa. You broke away from your thoughts and tried to make yourself useful— you got up to rinse the dishes, humming a random tune to yourself as you worked. You were already back inside your head, wondering if you should tell Joel it was a song you’d heard on his radio and had stuck in your head ever since. Probably not worth it; it usually didn’t go well when you tried to talk about things like that. Joel and Tess talked about before a lot— well, it wasn't that often, because it wasn't very productive to talk about it. But they talked about it occasionally and you never had anything to say. Once, you tried to weigh in: they were reminiscing on concerts before the outbreak, bands and artists they remembered, and you chirped about how "I read about that in a book once!"

They both glared at you, and you didn't say anything else. But you didn’t take it too personally, they just didn’t want to feel old— but you didn’t think either of them were old! These days, old wasn’t a matter of years, it was really just about usefulness— like poor Mrs. Davis, she was old, she couldn’t do much for herself anymore— and they were both… actually, they were both significantly more useful than you. That made you sad. But at least Joel had helped you get better with guns— not that he ever let you carry one.

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Joel broke the silence as you washed his favorite mug.

“I know,” you said back, voice light and chipper. “You don’t have to.”

You felt his eyes linger on you for a moment after that, but he didn’t say anything else.

Though they had decided already that you weren’t joining them on the run, you ended up there— mostly by happenstance— when Joel and Tess met with the buyer who wanted half of what they managed to bring back. Not many people in the QZ could afford that kind of contraband, so it made sense that it was one of the FEDRA soldier’s bankrolling this. They were by no means rich, but they had a lot of pull and could provide all sorts of ration cards and promises to look the other way if future issues arose. He couldn’t guarantee safe movement out and back in through the boundaries of the city, but he at least promised to look the other way in any future run-ins with the law.

“So that’s it: you’ll leave at eleven, you’re back by four, and you bring me my share the next day during my break?” the soldier confirmed.

“Yep,” Tess agreed. “Quick and painless. Hopefully.”

You didn’t expect the man’s eyes to land on you, but you didn’t particularly care for it. "Is your little lap dog coming, too?" he smirked, glancing at Joel after he was finished raking his stare over you.

Your face got hot instantly, with shame and confusion. "I— I'm not in his lap," you denied, "that's not— we don't—"

“No,” Joel interrupted firmly, “she’s not coming.”

There was an awkward silence, the place where he might’ve said and she’s not my lap dog, if he cared much about the accusation. Tess seemed to be hanging onto that silence nearly as tightly as you were.

“Whatever,” the soldier finally brought everyone’s attention back to the conversation, “just meet me here tomorrow at half past one, and we’ll see what you’ve got.”

You were still thinking about that conversation that night— while you were keeping watch, like Joel had asked you to. It was really boring; you spent most of the time on the couch, reading a book you’d bought off someone for a few rations. After a while, your curiosity got the better of you, and you started snooping around Joel’s apartment. There wasn’t much to look at… he didn’t own much, just a few shirts— actually, you thought those jeans he always wore might be his only pair…

Your search led you to his bed. Even with no one here to see you do it, you were a little embarrassed to lean in and take a whiff of his pillow— but it was totally worth it. It smelled just like him, that warm piney kind of scent he had; in times like this, not many people could afford to smell nice, but Joel could. Not to say that he was the type to splurge on all the nicest stuff, you were pretty sure he didn’t even own cologne, but he owned shampoo and deodorant, so that put him in the 80th percentile for hygiene in the Boston QZ.

But it wasn’t just those products you smelled on his sheets— there was something quintessentially Joel to it all, something impossible to define but incredibly addictive. It was instinctual, the way you got in his bed and curled up in those sheets, burying yourself in the comfort of him. It was so easy to imagine how he might hold you, now that you were here— all you were missing was his strength, his weight, slow and steady breaths behind you as he drifted to sleep…

You woke up when you heard the door shut. Startled into sitting up, you were hoping you’d have time to get out of his bed before he saw you— but he was already standing there, staring at you. He was just a shape in the dark, so you couldn’t see his face, but you heard the exasperated sigh.

“I thought I told you to sleep on the couch,” he said.

“R-right, sorry,” you coughed, recalling last time this happened with a pained wince.

“Better yet, I thought I told you to keep watch!”

“You know you just say that,” you mumbled, “so you can keep me away from the real work.”

He didn’t say anything, probably because he knew you were right— but even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t, because Tess walked in a second later. “Can’t believe he tried to stiff us,” she was saying as she walked in, half-laughing in frustration. “Well, yeah I can,” she added a second later.

Her attitude changed when she saw you in the bed. “I— I’ll go back to my—” you started, but you ended up just getting up and leaving in a hurry before you could really finish your thought.

Wiping a small tear from under your eye quickly, you walked out of Joel’s apartment and started for your own bunk across the city— even though it was more likely than not that somebody would hassle you for walking around during curfew.

Yes, if you had a little more self-respect, you would just stop hanging around those two and find some other work to do, but Joel had done something for you that you could never repay and never forget. He didn’t have to love you the way you loved him— and you’d been sure for a while that he never would— but couldn’t he at least be a little nicer? You wouldn’t feel right being anywhere but at his side, no matter how much he made it seem like he never wanted you there at all.

Honestly, you did consider not going back the next morning— but you figured they might actually need you for the next part. Okay, not need, but they could at least use you for something: after smuggling anything in, you need a fence, someone to pawn this stuff off. Joel and Tess did a decent job of keeping a low profile, but it was even easier to do so when they had someone like you moving contraband around Boston’s population.

So, after a few hours of sleep on that radically uncomfortable cot, you decided to head back to Joel’s place. The sun was just above the horizon by this time, but only the people working early shifts for their rations were up now; you liked the city best when it was quiet like this, but then again, you liked almost everything better quiet.

Usually, Joel’s apartment was the same way. But when you walked in, the energy was completely different than you were used to. Where you’d normally find Tess counting up the score while Joel sipped on coffee (or liquor, depending most on the hour), instead you walked in on what was clearly a lover’s quarrel.

The thing was, this was not your typical argument— they were doing it Joel and Tess style, which is to say, as repressed as possible. In fact, they weren’t even talking when you walked in, but just the way they were standing was indicative of the discomfort they were clearly trying not to acknowledge.

Tess was at the window, arms crossed, looking at the view; and you knew that was a bad sign, because there was no view to be had, the QZ was an eyesore and she complained about it all the time. Joel was sitting at the table, facing the other way, his hand squeezing his own fist instead of the handle of his mug— it didn’t look injured, but his face still had a hint of pain on it.

“I’m sorry—” you mumbled, not sure what you were apologizing for yet, but Tess interrupted you.

“I’ll go,” she decided, walking over to the table.

“Okay,” Joel agreed, not looking at her.

Well, you were no relationship expert, and you didn’t even know what they were arguing about… but you knew that was pretty cold. “So that’s all you’re gonna say to me?” Tess prompted him, her tone tight and her eyes red.

You kept your head low, as if that would hide the fact that you could clearly see and hear all this.

“Yeah,” Joel decided, not as aloof as usual; it reminded you of how he usually spoke to you, that frustration, but it was definitely different. More… exhausted. “Yeah, it is.”

Tess put her weight predominantly on one leg, her hips shifting, as she let out a scoffing sort of breath. For a moment, she looked at you; you looked back at her shyly from beneath your brows before looking away. Why would she look at me right now?

Shaking her head, she left, mumbling to herself but you couldn’t make it out. The door slammed behind her. Joel sighed next.

“Everything okay?” you asked sheepishly, twisting your boot on the floor to watch the shapes it made in the thin layer of dust.

“Clearly,” he insisted, and the sarcasm was obvious though his voice was neutral. You could tell he didn’t want you to prod more— anyone who knew Joel for two minutes would know that— but you still chewed your lip as you wondered what you should do.

Your attention turned to the stacks of contraband on the table; most of it was perfectly legal material to own, just not legal to acquire from outside the city’s perimeter. “Looks like a good haul this time,” you noticed, hoping a change of subject would soothe him a little. Maybe it did, but he didn’t show it. He just kept squeezing his fist, and you gently sat down across from him at the table— and you started doing what you figured you should, going through what they’d brought back and starting to figure how much you could get for it.

For a while, he entertained that conversation, though with as short of responses as possible. Not even a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, just hums and grunts that got the point across. You could tell he was thinking, but you could also tell he didn’t want to be— that he’d rather forget about all that. For once, he was struggling to do that.

It scared you to imagine doing something he so obviously didn’t want you to do, but you knew you couldn’t ignore it forever. “What made her so upset?” you asked softly, finally.

He paused for so long that you thought he was just ignoring your question, but he did eventually say something. “She told me something I wasn’t ready to hear,” he answered, “and… and I guess I said the wrong thing.”

“What did you say?”

“Actually, I didn’t say anything,” he admitted with a thin laugh. “But, I said nothing in the wrong way.”

"... Do you think she'll come back?" you pressed, and his sigh was answer enough.

You had to wonder if he'd make you a real partner in all this now. Probably not, right? He thought so little of you before, that wouldn't change just because Tess was out.

“I’m sorry,” you decided.

“It’s not your fault,” he promised. “It was me.”

You didn’t press on that, already thankful and pleasantly surprised by how much he’d shared. He stood up a moment later, leaving the table and moving to the kitchenette so he could make some coffee; oddly, that comforted you. Like things were going to go forward now, like life could be normal again and he would still drink his coffee.

For a while, it was quiet— just how you liked it, and how you figured he liked it, too. He was humming a song at one point but you didn’t think he realized he was doing it.

It was so quiet, in fact, that when you went to lay on the sofa later, you ended up accidentally dozing off. You couldn’t say how long you were asleep— you were pretty underslept, but it didn’t feel like more than an hour— just that you were awoken to the sound of movement in the kitchen area.

Sitting up, you tilted your head when you saw Joel had begun packing up the contraband haul— well, half of it. “What are you—?” you began to ask, but then you saw the time, and you remembered; but he answered you anyways.

“Our buyer’s on his break now,” Joel announced as he stuffed a pack of bandages into his bag. “I said I would meet him to show him what we got.”

“I can go with you!” you announced. “You know, if Tess isn’t—”

“It’s fine,” he insisted, “I can do it myself.”

“Joel, please,” you pressed, “I promise I’ll do whatever you need me to, I just wanna help—”

“I need you to stay here,” he frowned.

Some things never change, huh? “Why don’t you just let me go? Let me help you?” you whimpered, lip shaking as you started to cry. You hated yourself for it, but you knew you couldn’t stop it.

There was a pause before he responded. “I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Joel explained, but you doubted that was the real reason he didn’t want you to come. “It only takes one of us, you’re better off here.”

“Tess was gonna go!” you reminded him, getting more upset. "I know I'm not…" you trailed off as you tried not to cry too much or too loudly. "I can't do what she can— I'm not strong…"

He sighed as he knelt down in front of you, resting his hand on your knee. You peeked out from behind your fingers, but looked down again.

"I'm not— I'm not smart, either," you whimpered. "I don't know anything, about before, about now—"

"That's not true," he mumbled, but you weren't finished yet.

"Nobody knows why you even keep me around, I sure don't," you shrugged, dropping your hands defeatedly, hot tears running faster down your face and dripping onto your pants; his hand reached up and wiped your cheeks with a gentleness you never knew he had. “M’not… I’m not tough, like you guys…”

"You know what you are, little girl?" he replied quietly. "You're good. You're sweet. Me an' Tess, we need someone like you to keep us from bein' sad old assholes all the time…"

He sighed, and you thought was done talking, until he spoke again, softer.

"I need someone like you."

Your heart swelled, and light filled your chest, until you had just enough confidence to finally blurt out what you'd been holding in for months: "Joel, you should know that I always—"

"Shh," he soothed, nodding. "I know."

Your face got hot instantly again, and your heart sank. "I think everybody knows," you mumbled awkwardly, giving him a half-smile through the drying tears. "But I thought— it's just that you never—"

“I couldn’t,” he insisted. “You understand that? I couldn’t, not with you—”

“Why not?” you snapped. “Why can’t you?”

“If you don’t know why, you’re more hopeless than I thought,” he frowned.

“I know— I know I’m… a lot younger than you…” you mumbled, almost not wanting to say it in case he actually hadn’t noticed that. “I know you think I’m not very mature and stuff… but that shouldn’t matter when you really love someone—”

“Woah, hey,” he coughed, “love? Sweetheart, you’ve got a crush—”

“No! Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snapped, surprising both of you with your sudden ability to stand up to him. “You can tell me what to do but not what to feel.”

“Okay,” he softened up, “fine. That’s fair. But it’ll pass—”

"I've never loved anybody before," you whimpered, "and I'm never gonna love anybody like I love you. I know that! I know you think I'm just a stupid kid who doesn't understand love, but I know that I really love you! Okay? So just… just stop talking! Doesn’t need to take this long for you to reject me, geez…”

There was a pregnant pause, you were too caught up in your own frustration to really notice it: the way he looked to the side, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment. You weren’t expecting him to say anything after that, so it nearly startled you when he spoke. “It was last night, after you left,” he explained. “I— I thought about telling you to come back, figured you’d be safer on the couch than walking back across the city at that time…”

Wrapping your arms around your chest, you smiled a little imagining that, but you knew you couldn’t have taken him up on that offer: it would’ve killed you, trying to sleep on that sofa while Joel and Tess shared the bed.

“She told me not to,” Joel continued. “That’s… that’s how it started, I guess…”

“That girl’s so obsessed with you,” Tess laughed lightly, toying with Joel’s lapel. “It’s cute, really. I mean, it’s sad— but it’s cute.”

“Hm,” Joel said first, not really listening— it took him a second to properly react. “Why is it sad?” he asked when her words processed completely.

“‘Cause she thinks she might actually have a chance,” Tess explained.

That was it, what he did wrong; he sees it now, in retrospect, but at the time he figured saying nothing was his safest bet. Apparently, he didn’t have to say anything.

“Shit,” Tess said suddenly, moving instantly from shock to anger. “Are you fucking serious?”

“What?” Joel spat.

“You know fucking what,” she returned sharply. “That look— you looked away.”

“Okay? So?” Joel tried to defend himself, but he knew that she knew now— believe it or not, he really wasn’t much of a liar. Especially with her.

“She’s a goddamn fetus, Joel,” Tess reminded him. “She hasn’t seen a hundredth of the shit we’ve seen, she hasn’t lost anyone—”

“Lost her parents,” Joel corrected.

“Well, we all lose our parents,” Tess rolled her eyes, “that’s part of life.”

Not the way she lost them, Joel wanted to add, but he was going back to his original plan of saying nothing.

“She’s not like us,” Tess insisted.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Joel decided.

That was the point of no return; because Tess had never thought of you as competition, she barely even thought of you at all, but if innocence was something he wanted… then the competition was already over before it even started. The silence was heavy, more sad than angry, and Joel knew he really fucked up because he’d never really seen Tess speechless before. Is it bad that he didn’t regret it, though? Maybe he could’ve handled things better, but telling her the truth couldn’t be wrong. It’s not like he’d been hiding it, really— he never even acknowledged it himself, not often.

“I can’t believe you,” she shook her head, and shame twisted in his gut. “Part of me always— not always, I guess, but part of me wondered. Sometimes the way you looked at her…”

As she trailed off, Joel looked down, too afraid for her to look in his eyes now.

“You’d do anything to keep her safe,” she said instead of finishing that last thought. “I told myself you didn’t look at me like that because you knew I could protect myself.”

“I do,” he promised.

“So what do you want?” she asked point-blank. “Something you can protect, or something you don’t have to?”

“And what did you say?” you asked hurriedly.

“I told her what I wanted,” was all he replied, and your heart skipped. “And that’s… that’s why she left.”

Joel nodded slightly, looking away. But you reached out and touched his face, turning it back towards you. Impulsively, you leaned forward and kissed him; it took all the courage you had, and a hand on his shoulder for balance, but you felt him kiss you back after a moment. It was gentle, for how sudden it was, and you sighed as his hand moved higher up your leg.

You were still crying, because of course you were, but he didn’t mind as much as you’d worried: he only wiped your tears away, holding onto your face, standing up and pulling you with him.

“I love you,” you whispered as he embraced you, wanting to say it a thousand times now that it wasn’t the worst-kept secret in Boston. “I love you, Joel—”

“I know,” he promised, whispering back into the kiss which got deeper with each passing moment. “I know, darlin’.”

That was enough for you— that was plenty: the way he kissed you, and held you, calling you darlin’ in that rough-yet-gentle voice… you were weak already, melting into his touch, ready to give him anything.

In fact, he had to put a hand on your shoulder and gently push you away to get you to calm down, and your face heated up as you realized how eager you’d been. “Don’t need to get so worked up, m’gonna take care of you now, okay?”

“You always take care of me,” you noticed.

“A different way,” he explained.

Just the way those brown eyes darkened, just the way he said that made your thighs clench against each other. “Y-you’ll miss the meeting with the buyer,” you realized.

“Fuck,” Joel grumbled, and you smiled a bit. “Waited this long and now I’ve gotta fuckin’ leave you again.”

Your hand rested on his chest, the soft flannel of his shirt transmitting some of the warmth of his body, and you looked up with him with wide, wet eyes.

“I know you hate waitin’ here, but… I always liked it,” he admitted, his voice softer yet deeper. “I always liked knowing you were here, waiting for me…”

Your heart swelled. “Y-yeah— I didn’t mind waiting for you so much,” you admitted in return, “just didn’t want you to think that’s all I was good for.”

He kissed your temple, making your chest flood with warmth. “I know,” he promised. “You’ll be here when I get back, won’tcha? Can’t disappear on me now.”

“I won’t, I’ll be here,” you assured, turning your face to peck his cheek in return. It seemed to surprise him, like he hadn’t had tenderness of that sort in a long time.

Funny how you’d waited for him all night before, but that half hour felt longer than all of them combined. You were quite sure you knew what he meant before— about how he would take care of you in a different way— and it put you on edge all afternoon.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed you, about his hands pulling you closer. Or his eyes: if he’d ever looked at you like that before, you hadn’t noticed (which was probably what he intended).

For how much time you spent wondering what you would do, what you would say, when he returned, you ended up not doing much of either: he was on you the moment he stepped in the door, though that was sort of what you’d been betting on when you decided to strip down to just your underwear and wait for him like that. Not that you minded the idea of him, you know, tearing your clothes off like one of those romance novels— you just didn’t like the idea of having to wait any longer than you already had and this shirt had way too many buttons.

He did take a moment to stare you down when he came back, to appreciate your nakedness, and despite imagining showing yourself to him many times before, you felt a little self-conscious with his eyes just piercing through you like that: you didn’t cover yourself, ignoring a slight instinct to do so, but you did wrap your arms over your stomach and cross your legs as you sat on his bed.

Waiting for him to say something— or, possibly, waiting for yourself to find some courage to speak— you were a little taken aback when he grabbed you and kissed you. And you realized, as his lips moved with yours even harder, deeper, needier than before, that there was nothing else to say.

He climbed on top of you on that bed, laid you down on it gently, as his weight pressed you down into the mattress. You could've sworn you heard him growl when he rocked his hips against yours, a firm bulge in his jeans pressing right up to where heat had gathered between your legs.

Fingers weaving in his hair, you hummed as you did all you could to keep him close, as if he might just disappear if you didn’t hold him near to you. But he didn’t seem like much of a flight risk, considering his tight grip on you— so tight it could leave marks, which you hoped it would. You needed more than just memories of this.

“Tell me this is what you want,” he demanded, his voice breathless yet somehow not weak at all. “Need to know you want this.”

“Fuck, Joel, f’course,” you promised— wasn’t it obvious? It probably was. But you could understand if he was still fighting back some guilt; you just wanted to do everything you could to help him forget about that. “So bad,” you continued, “for so long…”

“Since I saved you?” he assumed, his teeth grazing your lip like a threat to bite down harder— a threat that made you throb from the inside out.

“Before,” you admitted, smiling sheepishly.

“Didn’t even know me before,” he noticed, raising an eyebrow.

“Saw you around sometimes—” god, am I blushing as hard as it feels like I am? — “thought maybe you could… you know…”

Protect me. Hold me. Take care of me. And fuck me like the world is ending even though it already did.

He smirked at you proudly, leaning in to kiss your neck this time, following some invisible trail that made you even more sensitive to the touch of his lips; after he kissed right under your ear, he whispered to you.

“Then just go ahead and take what you want, darlin’.”

After a shiver ran over you, so strong you thought it might never end, your hands shot down between you so you could get to work on his belt and fly; you felt his smile against your skin, then his teeth a moment later, as his hand rubbed the curve of your waist gently.

Both of you gasped when your fingers wrapped gently around his cock, for different reasons. The skin was so smooth, it was hard to believe something this soft and silky was part of Joel— and it was hot, or maybe your fingers were just cold, but you hoped that didn't bother him.

He was already starting to move his hips just a bit, rocking into your touch, and you hummed when he suddenly grabbed your hand to force it to press firmer against himself. "You thought about touchin' me like this before?" he asked in a voice that was breathy and low— you loved hearing the pleasure in his voice.

"Y-yeah," you admitted shyly; when he let your hand go, your touch wandered, your hands sliding up under the bottom of his shirt so you could feel the skin there— the firm muscle, the thin scars, the graying hairs that formed a trail down his stomach…

Grabbing your wrists, he pinned them down above your head, and you let out a joyful whine. "Keep those there," he ordered, and you nodded as you watched him intently.

His hands traced down your body, making shivers run all over your skin; how could a man with so much strength touch you so delicately?

He purred as his fingers ran down to your panties, toying with the edge of the fabric before carefully pulling them down your legs. You tried not to wiggle too much, but your hips were desperate for some friction, for some attention from him— they didn't have to wait long, though. He groaned at the sight as he parted your legs, grabbing himself to rub his fat head through your folds. "Fuck," he mumbled, your channel clenching on nothing as you saw how far apart his tip forced your swollen lips, "so wet for me already, bet I'll slide right in…"

Your back arched with a moan just imagining that, and he pushed your stomach down flat with his free hand so you wouldn't angle too far away from him, laying his body atop yours. Though you tried to stay still, you couldn’t stop shaking as he lined himself up; it felt surreal, it felt hyperreal— his skin against yours was unlike anything you could’ve imagined.

You’d sort of wondered if he’d say something before he put it in, maybe a quick you ready? or even here it comes which would’ve been stupid but an appreciated warning nonetheless. Instead, he just looked at your face carefully, and pushed inside. It was sudden, sharp; your whole body tensed up and you sucked in a breath before biting your lip.

He only made it halfway in, struggling against how tight you were. You were doing everything you could not to give away your pain, but he must've seen it in your expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. "I'm hurting you…"

"No— Joel, please don't stop—"

You wrapped your legs around his hips to try to keep him inside, but he pulled out most of the way and looked down— and you winced when he saw the blood. "Baby, you… are you— is this your—? Fuck, why didn't you say something?"

"You wouldn't have done it with me if you knew it was my first time," you explained with a whimper.

"No, baby— I just would've taken my time with you, s'all," he sighed, "would've helped you— sweetie, it didn't need to hurt like that…"

Clutching tighter at his shirt, you pulled him down into a needy kiss. "Hurt me more, Joel," you pleaded into it with a breathy whisper, "do whatever you want to me. I'm yours— that's all I want, just to be yours."

He kissed you back, slow but passionate; but, much to your dismay, he pulled out and sat up.

"No, Joel, I'm sorry," you whined, "I'm sorry— I didn't mean to lie, I'm so sorry, I promise I can be good! M'gonna be really good for you!"

But he just shook his head, and you bit your quivering lip as tears ran down your temples. He smiled, just a little. "Such a crybaby," he scolded you softly. "What am I gonna do with you, little girl? You can't even keep yourself together."

He leaned down again, but he slid his knees down on the bed so he could position his face between your legs. He kissed your inner thigh first, and you jumped because it tickled.

Then he held your hips, running his thumbs over your skin soothingly, and you tried not to squirm too much as he looked up at you with those dark eyes— much darker than before. “You want me to taste you?” he asked, like it was your idea or something.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled sheepishly, and he actually laughed for a moment.

“Yeah?” he repeated. “Could you be a little more specific?”

Oh— he wants me to beg. “Um— please? Taste me, Joel…”

He smiled, but not like a haha funny smile or an oh that’s nice smile— a really dirty kind of smile, even though his teeth were actually in better condition than most out here. “Okay, baby,” he agreed.

He was subtle about it at first, just giving gentle kisses all around; you felt… exposed, even more than you had with his face between your legs before.

“Is that alright?” he asked, his voice rougher than the last time you heard it.

“Y-yeah,” you choked, clearing your throat. “Don’t… don’t stop, please…”

When he got back to it, he was much more aggressive— long, slow licks between your lips, sloppy kisses with his eyes shut tight; and you whined as you held on tighter to the sheets. You didn’t realize how hard you were shaking until his grip on your thighs was bruisingly tight. And as he held you down, he just dug in deeper: every time you thought he’d stop escalating the intensity of it all, he just did it more— he just did everything more— until you couldn’t control your moans and gasps anymore.

His tongue was the fucking devil; he slid it inside you and your eyes rolled back. He sucked greedily on your clit until your hips bucked uncontrollably, moaning against your skin just enough that you could hear it over your own shameless cries.

"Joel, fuck, how are you—? Oh god—"

"Mm?" he encouraged you to finish your thought without breaking away from you.

"How does that feel so good?" you sobbed. "Oh my god— please don't stop, never stop, oh fuck!"

All he was doing was flicking his tongue over your bud, such a small interaction with a tiny little organ, and your whole body was shaking. Reaching down and grabbing his hair, you didn't mean to tug on it so hard but you also didn't expect him to moan deeply when you did.

His mouth moved a little higher, focusing on the bud you were sure had never been this swollen or this sensitive. Doing so freed your opening, and one of his thick fingers prodded at it. "Please," you panted, wanting any part of him to be inside you again.

He pushed it in, the roughness of his skin creating the perfect friction on your delicate walls. You were waiting to feel his knuckle against you, but instead he only put it in maybe halfway, not very far at all. It didn’t make much sense to you, until he started to rub one place just inside and a gasp instantly inflated your chest.

“Oh—” you choked, and he was licking harder on your clit at the same time that he added a second finger; you’d never felt anything like it before. “Joel!” you squealed, hating how girlish it sounded but helpless to the control he had over your body with just two fingers and his tongue.

His rhythm wasn’t all that fast but it was relentless, the exact tempo you needed for that pleasure to build and build, toes curling and vision getting all spotty— you tried to look down at him sometimes, but your head wanted so badly to tilt back and let everything go black.

“I— oh, fuck— I’m gonna— fuck, Joel!” you sobbed, grabbing on tighter to his hair; you took one glimpse at it, and when you saw the scattered silver hairs peeking out from between your fingers, it just made you even more overwhelmed.

He hummed and looked up at you, encouraging you— his fingers pumped faster and faster suddenly, and when it hit, you felt like your whole body was going numb. It started where he was touching you, but then a moment later it was in your head, then it was just running all over and you were too weak to do anything but give into it.

Suddenly it became too much, and the hand that had been holding him down by his hair was suddenly pushing him away; you blinked away the spots in your vision to catch a glimpse of him with that beard soaked in you, but his fingers hadn’t stopped yet. “Oh… ohhh my god…” you whined, breathing harder than you could ever remember breathing before, your head getting all dizzy and cloudy as he smirked up at you and continued fucking you with his hand.

Your hole was pulsing, flexing over and over, waves of slick leaking out until you could feel the puddle spreading under you. Your cheeks burned with humiliation, even though he kept praising you as his fingers milked everything from your swollen spot. "Good girl, good girl," he said over and over, "fuck, good job, soak the sheets, baby— soak my fingers, keep going…"

"Joel," you sobbed, desperate for some relief from the overwhelming sensation. He didn't really stop, just slowed down a lot, but he kept twisting his fingers and rubbing that one place until your quivering body collapsed completely onto his mattress. And then he went on for just a little bit longer after that.

Then he stopped. When you thought you might fucking pass out.

He climbed up your body and brought his two soaked fingers to your slack lips.

"You want a taste, too, baby?" he purred.

You dutifully opened your mouth and did your best to clean his fingers off, sucking and licking as he hummed a bit; his eyes got a little darker as he felt your tongue run all over his rough fingers.

"What do you think?" he prompted when he pulled his fingers away, and you swallowed as you made a little face.

"I dunno if I like it," you admitted nervously. "Kinda sour."

"Really? I think your pussy's fuckin' delicious."

Your face flushed, but you didn't say anything else because he was reaching down to hold his cock again— and your heart started racing.

"Ready to do this the right way?" he prompted, and you nodded eagerly. "S'gonna feel so much better, now you're all ready for me. Ready for something this big inside ya— but it might still sting at first, okay? Just hold onto me tight."

That you did, tighter than you thought you could— apparently you were stronger than you realized, especially considering that orgasm nearly took you out a minute ago. But you had to hold on that tight as he began to push that fat head inside you, stretching you so wide before he'd even gotten the ridge of it past your opening. It didn't sting like before, or at least not as much, but it was still completely overwhelming. You forgot to breathe until he was halfway in: you gasped out his name, reminding yourself he was inside you and above you and everywhere, everything.

"See how much— fuck— how much easier it is now?" he grunted, sliding into you slowly until his hips met yours. "See how you're takin' all'a me? God damn, still tight as hell, though."

You were delirious already, he hadn't even moved yet. You didn't think it could get much better than his mouth on you, than coming because of him, but this? This perfect stretch, this addictive friction, knowing he was completely inside you and that he liked how you felt? This was ecstasy, bliss. And he hadn't even fucking moved yet.

"Gonna have a hard time being gentle with you now," he admitted with a growl beside your ear. "You've got one of those perfect little pussies that just needs to be fucked hard— suckin' me in, just beggin' for it rough and fast."

"Joel," you whined, "fuck me however you want, please… I can take it, I swear, I want you so bad…"

Still, when he moved, it was slow and patient. Too goddamn slow.

"Fuck," you sobbed, back arching up off the bed as he carefully savored every detail of you. "Fuck, Joel, I can't— I can't believe you're— I can't believe it's you. I wanted you so much I couldn't fucking breathe."

He smiled at you, and leaned in to kiss your neck; you let out what could only be described as a joyful whimper. “Wanted you too,” he finally admitted. “Tried not to, you’re so young… jus’ couldn’t help it after a while.”

"Faster," you whined, "please, fuck, please please—"

"You are so goddamn spoiled, you know that?" Joel grunted— but then he did it, he fucked you even faster than you'd imagined. His thrusts were still deep and long, but they came at you quicker than you could process and you nearly screamed.

You were even more sensitive after he’d made you come the first time; it was just overwhelming, the feeling of him, and you felt like your mind had left your body— like your mind had left you entirely.

“Y’feel fuckin’ perfect, darlin’,” he praised lowly, kissing your neck with all the gentleness and patience his thrusts lacked. “So good for me.”

Maybe it was pathetic, but being good for him felt fucking amazing— not just physically, obviously. It felt like having a purpose; you’d never really felt that before.

You lost track of time; honestly, you lost track of everything. Everything that wasn’t this had fallen away, and it was just you holding on for dear life as Joel wrecked you all over again with every motion. "Hear that? How wet you are for me?" he groaned, and yes, there was a squishy-wet sound that filled the room with each thrust. You tried to answer him, say something witty about how he made you that wet so many times, but only moans came when you opened your mouth. "I asked you a question," he reminded you. "Can you fuckin' hear it?"

Whimpering, you could only bite your lip and nod.

"Oh," he smiled, "I see— you get stupid with cock in you, huh? Get fucked right and that silly brain just turns off?"

You nodded again— wasn’t much else for you to do.

"Just gonna be a dumb whore for me now?" he asked. "Just kidding, I know you already were."

“Fuck— Joel—” you choked.

"No no, it's okay— it's good,” he soothed you, kissing a tear from your temple that you hadn’t even realized was there. “You don't need to think. I don't need you to think. You can just be my fucktoy, okay? You can just be my slut. Say it."

"I-I'm your slut, Joel…"

He hummed appreciatively; your moan caught in your throat, and you tried to hide your face in his shoulder— you couldn’t believe he was still dressed, for all you knew he still had his boots on, and meanwhile you were stripped of everything. Not just your clothes: you were stripped of all pretense (didn’t need it) and dignity (didn’t want it). You’d thought of yourself as his for quite some time now, but now that he’d really made you his, it was more than you could’ve imagined.

When you came with him inside you, it wasn’t like how it was before— definitely similar, obviously the same thing at the core of it, but very different. Before it was so… sudden, like a firework going off and then glittering into darkness (at least, that was how you understood fireworks to be, you’d only ever had them explained to you). This was more like a deep pressure that just built and built and built, and then at some point you’d crossed that threshold and you were there but it didn’t go away, it just stayed at the peak while he kept moving inside you.

He grunted as your walls beared down on him, watching the tears of ecstasy stream down your face. “Tryin’ to milk my cock, huh?” he accused with a snarl to his tone. “S’that what you want?”

You weren’t really paying attention, you couldn’t while he was fucking you like that. Digging your fingers into his shoulders through the flannel shirt, you just whimpered and nodded.

“S’workin’, baby,” he smiled, “little pussy’s got me so tight— is it a little too much, honey? You’re cryin’...”

“I— I always cry,” you sniffled.

“M’not gonna make you take too much more,” he promised, “doin’ so good honey— gonna let you rest soon—”

“No, d-don’t stop,” you begged, and he laughed a little.

“I’m close,” he explained, and even though that should’ve been obvious, it made you feel better. “Normally takes me a little longer, but… never had a pussy like this.”

That was probably just flattery, but you were happy to believe it. Happy enough to just lay back and let that pleasure wash over you, but of course, he expected more of you than that.

"Tell me where I can come," he ordered.

"Fuck, Joel— anywhere you want, anywhere," you pleaded, struggling to keep your train of thought but desperate to appease him as best you could.

"Inside you?" he pressed.

"Yeah, fuck, anywhere," you insisted.

"I bet that's what you want— you want it inside. You want this cunt full and dripping."

“Fuck— yeah,” you agreed, “s’what I want— please, please—”

“Shh, don’t need to beg,” he assured sweetly, kissing your neck again— burying his face in the crook of your shoulder, until his panting breaths echoed on your skin. “Don’t need to beg, darlin’, gonna fill you nice and deep—”

“Please,” you said again, ignoring his assurances.

“Just like you need it—”

“Please, Joel— love you so much,” you sobbed, your thighs starting to go a little numb where his jeans were rubbing against them and your clit getting sore from the way he stayed deep inside and grinded himself against you.

“I know,” he promised again, “jus’ say it one more time.”

“I love you, Joel,” you cried, and it was over somewhat suddenly: he stayed still, and you could feel his grip on you tighten, and you heard that sound that was like a groan and a sigh at the same time. You’d hoped you’d be able to really feel it inside you, the warmth of his come, but everything was so hot that it was all the same— what you did feel was full, even more than you had just from his cock in you, and it was enough to make you clutch at his shoulders again despite having almost no energy left in you.

Though he stayed inside for a little while after, he did eventually have to pull out; you were too exhausted to even think about trying to close your legs when he stared down at you— at his come leaking slowly from your hole.

You knew there would need to be a conversation soon about what this all meant— what should happen now with the business, with your relationship, even just what should happen tomorrow morning since you’d both given in to instinct rather than take the safer route and have Joel pull out…

But that would have to wait; you still couldn’t think straight, you couldn’t think about anything but him in fact.

Thankfully, Joel was just fine with the silence. He just held you, let you wander between sleep and wakefulness, and wiped that last stray tear away from your face.

“I’m sorry I keep crying,” you offered quietly, breaking a long silence.

“I don’t mind,” he promised.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller hbo x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n

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anonymous-dentist · 4 months

Text

A Very Long qRoier Theory

Okay so here's what I actually think, and TRUST THE PROCESS OKAY:

I think that Roier really was kidnapped by the Federation, but I don't think that he was taken because he was looking for Cellbit strictly because the Feds themselves are actually more or less actively searching for the missing islanders and hoping for their return so they can continue the murder investigation. Despite the terrible things going on, the Feds legitimately want all their islanders/lab rats back on the island so they can continue with whatever experiment they're holding. Every time Cucurucho has held a meeting recently, it's asked about the status of the missing islanders, so it really wouldn't make sense for it or the Feds as a whole to punish their one single lead in the case when every actual Federation agent assigned to the case has either come up with nothing or disappeared entirely.

Nah, I think Roier was taken because he was vulnerable and because the Feds figured nobody would've missed him. They know that he isn't really super close with anybody on the island but Cellbit, and they know that he's been actively pushing people away for a while now- basically since Bobby's death, and moreso since his return from Purgatory.

Looking at the QSMP channel's streams, particularly Elena's, we know that the Feds seem to be a pharmaceutical company. They, simply speaking, make drugs. Look at the "happy pills" that Elena helped create, this is what the Feds do.

Roier mentioned that he was drugged. He never said that they stopped drugging him. I think he's still being drugged and that he isn't a rat- not a literal one, anyway.

I think that Roier is still under the effects of the drugs he's being given because he is currently a test subject. He's a lab rat.... at the moment, anyway.

More on that later.

Do I have any evidence for this? Not really, but also some things just didn't add up cinematically. Like, okay, go back and watch everything from after when Roier 'wakes up' in the dungeon:

Everything's got this weird otherworldly fuzziness and glow to it. It's almost dreamlike in a way. Only the focus of the world is, well, in focus. The rest is blurred like a bad 3D movie:

There are all these weird cuts and jumps, too, like 11:16 when we suddenly cut to black for a few moments as Roier goes down the hallway, or 12:13 when we smash cut to the rat and 12:16 when we cut to Cucurucho. It's super sudden and jarring and it sets up a real nice feeling of unease (shoutout to ccRoier, this is SPECTACULAR)

And the music, okay, the background music is exactly the kind of shit you'd hear in a 'Dreamcore Music Video' on YouTube. It's super Backrooms, super weird esoteric vibes, and that's very on purpose.

None of this is real, and "Doied" is the final proof because like. He isn't real lol, if he's real then so is Roger, and the only times either of them front are when Roier's goofing around or when he's extremely homicidal (we saw Roger pretty recently, actually, back in October when he said that Cellbit killing everyone might be a good thing, actually.) Doied isn't like Abueloier or Melissa, he's one of Roier's 'alters', and he's a bit of a freak lol

I think about everyone can agree that this whole 'Ratoier' thing is a hallucination, but then we have to think, huh, what the hell does any of this mean?

First, we gotta follow the whole 'Roier is Currently Super Drugged' thing, because he is. He literally is. If he's not, well, laugh at me when the next tape comes out.

Roier is drugged by the Feds right now probably to test a new drug, possibly a drug meant to- just like the Happy Pills- make people happy again. In this case, however, I think that the pills may actually have something to do with memories, particularly the same memory retrieval stuff the Resistance did to Bagi. Because, well.

I want to go back to the rat, and I want to go back to Doied, because this stream actually implied a LOT about qRoier's character.

The thing about Doied is that he's the manifestation of Roier's "Um, actually!" Nerd Emoji self. He's a nerd. He's a loser with glasses and a nasty attitude.

Doied, in the dream, is a scientist. Doied, in the dream, performed horrible, inhumane experiments for the Federation. He put Roier's brain into a rat's, a lab rat's.

Once a long, long time ago in August, Roier quietly came to the realization that maybe he has a past history with the Federation and that's why Osito Bimbo has always been so weird about him- it basically had a crush on him for the first week or so of the island, and it still seems to, and he is still the only one outside of Foolish the Federation Employee to be addressed directly by his train ticket number: 0037. He brought up the possibility of being a Federation worker in the past to Cellbit, who brushed it off and said that he wouldn't care because he's a worker, too, technically, but what if it isn't a possibility?

We've always wondered how Federation workers end up the way they do. Why are they all the exact same type of bear? Why does only Cucurucho get to have a face and a voice? Why do they all have human minds and emotions? Why are they all dedicated to the Federation?

Easy. Because maybe they were people before, just like how Bagi and several other islanders think they are. But maybe someone put their brains inside of an animal's body- or, at least, inside of a worker's body, God only knows if they were actual polar bears at some point. Somebody had to help come up with that technology, and maybe it's the guy who managed to build an entire computer and radio-satellite setup over the span of about a week in his goddamn backyard without anybody knowing about it.

Roier has always had some weird connection with the Federation. He's the only civilian islander to ever be addressed by his ticket number, and later we find out that Foolish's ticket number- 0039- is his Federation Employee ID Number- W0039. He was Osito Bimbo's favorite for the first week on the island to the point of Osito just giving him whatever he wanted. He and Jaiden were paired up for the Egg Event (something that was intentional, btw, admin confirmed), and it's later revealed that Jaiden has a past with the Federation regarding the SMILE Units (aka Osito Bimbo and Cucurucho and the new guys.) The "Gods" (aka the admins) will happily follow him around and revive him when he's alone and strike him with lightning when asked and give him dirt and whatever. He managed to get someone onto the island from off of the island, Abueloier, and Abueloier was saved from the brink of death by the Federation in the Federation's hospital. His literal pet dog is a Federation employee. He got to name Jorgito the IV Drip.

Doied put someone's brain into the body of a rat, and Doied is Roier's nerd self.

I think that Roier may, in fact, have a past history with the Federation, and that it isn't because his grandfather worked/works for them. Maybe Roier did, just like he suspected months ago, and maybe he did some really bad things. But they were excused at the time because the people being converted into workers were bad people who made mistakes. Roier made the mistake of breaking the rules trying to connect with Cellbit, and so he got turned into a rat. There's been a functional prison on the island for long enough for it to be partially abandoned (see: Tazercraft Prison Stream.) Walter Bob was held there, possibly because he was part of the Resistance, or possibly because he wasn't done cooking yet.

Roier has always been a man of justice. When people do bad things, they get punished, and then things can go back to normal. He ruined Quackity's life. He wanted Slime to be properly punished for killing Tilin and he threatened to murder him when he tried threatening the kids. He built an entire torture dungeon in his basement for the explicit purpose of torturing Spreen to the point of death repeatedly and possibly for the rest of Spreen's miserable life. Cucurucho took Bobby away, and Roier said that the Federation would regret putting and keeping him on the island. Pozolito the Capybara blew Cellbit up, and Roier has literally tried killing every Capybara he's seen since. The Federation screwed with his family and with himself, and Roier is more than happy to join Cellbit in massacring the entire Federation.

He's a man of justice, but not of morals. He's a ruthless killer when it comes down to it, and he only shows regret when it comes to his husband's deaths during Purgatory. He doesn't fight unless he has to, but he's been thinking about killing everyone on the island since the first week of the server when he was betrayed. But, when it comes down to it, he doesn't actually want to hurt anyone he cares about. It's why Purgatory fucked him up so much.

His moral alignment actually matches up pretty well with several other Federation workers'- particularly workers like Elena and Fred who are nice but are willing to do terrible things in the name of their cause. The difference here is that Roier has had the same privilege that workers like Walter Bob and Ron got: he got a chance to socialize.

He doesn't have memories from before the island, but he remembers enough about his childhood to be a little suspicious.

But what if these drug-induced hallucinations are actually hints to Roier's backstory? What if it wasn't Doied running all these terrible experiments for the Federation, but it was Roier? Just a guy acting under the belief that he was making the world a better place, punishing criminals (aka rule breakers) while helping the Federation's cause: finding true happiness and spreading it to the world.

The Eye said that everybody in Purgatory was a sinner, and maybe Roier's sin was some mad scientist bullshit.

The dream today, Tape 1, had Roier being punished. Maybe it's because that's what he did as a scientist to new employees, or maybe it's because of his own guilt over everything he's done; remember, the reason he stopped smiling in Purgatory wasn't because he was killing his friends (because he's thought about killing his friends for a VERY long time), but it was because he killed Cellbit, and then it was because he left Cellbit behind to die. That's why the dream specified Cellbit's lost signal and not, say, Jaiden's, and it's why all the cool cinematic landscape shots focused on either Roier himself or Cellbit.

If my prediction is correct, Tape 2 would have Roger instead of Doied. So we'll see what happens then, I guess. Roger, who represents Roier's anger and his various homicidal tendencies.

Fit said that everybody was on the island for a reason, and Roier has been cooking for a long time now. Maybe qRoier is just like qJaiden: a former Federation associate.

TLDR; qRoier is currently hallucinating due to him being a Federation lab rat. His drug-induced dreams may be implying that Roier has a past within the Federation as a scientist completing the same experiments that "Doied" did in the dream to Roier.

But that's just a theory, a Game Theory. Thank you for reading.

#qsmp theory #qsmp #qroier #long post #guys idk if this makes sense #but it does to me!!!!!

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justporo · 6 months

Note

my queen. ur sfw alphabet for astarion....it was so good. so amazingly good. grrrrrRUFF!!! GRAAAAFPBRRRR!!!!!! anyways.....would you....be able.......to make......an nsfw alphabet 👀

Oh my sweet Anon, how could I say no? And you're not alone in wanting the NSFW version so here you go, hope you enjoy! And thank you so so much <3. You know flattery will most likely get you your way with me. Surely a thing Astarion and me share... This is Fem!Tav/Astarion btw.

I used this wonderful template (although I changed C slightly), thanks again to @the-coldest-goodbye.

Smutty headcanons about Astarion and Tav (in alphabetical order)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Astarion is very cuddly and comforting – especially if it was a little rougher. He’s always making sure you’re okay, holding you, kissing you gently, laying around naked afterwards just talking and relaxing. Especially since he’s learnt being comfortable with non-sexual intimacy he also just enjoys being close to you with skin-on-skin contact, feeling your warmth.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

“Just one, love? Don’t make me choose a favourite?” Let’s face it, he knows he has the body and face of a fallen god. He takes pleasure in looking and being beautiful (rightfully so), he likes that he has a body that’s well built and incredible to look that. But not even in that kind of hollow way but it’s just aesthetically pleasing and that’s a source of joy for him (also he loves his hair a lot). That also goes for you: he’s constantly reminded of every single little beautiful detail about you. The way your neck curves in an elegant line, the way your lips open into a smile, the small lines in your irises that are only visible when he’s like an inch away from you, the little dimple above your butt? Ugh – he could get lost in all those little aspects for they’re all infinite spaces of beauty.

C = Coming (switched that one because I liked this more)

Astarion takes an incredible amount of pleasure in keeping you on edge sometimes. The way it’s so very much in his hands to let you fall or not and the way you’re willingly giving yourself to him in that way. He’d never truly make you suffer though – he only does what makes it more exciting for the both of you.

Sometimes it might even be a little bit of teasing who might be able to push the other beyond the point of no return. (Punishable by law and the other will pay!)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It turns Astarion on way too much when you wear his clothing. The way your ass looks when you’re wearing only his shirt, when it’s visible just beyond the hemline. The way your hardened nipples peak through the fabric and the outline of your breasts shows through it – he can never get over that image. Certain way to get him to push you against a wall in three seconds or less.(And it will stay on during the sex, so he can smell you and what the two of you did later on.)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Do we even need to answer this? He knows every damn trick in the book and he’s very creative and eager to show off and teach you.

But: Doing all this with someone he really loves? With someone he desires so deeply it threatens to melt him from the inside? That’s a whole new plane of existence he never even though existed.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

“Again, darling, you can’t possibly make me pick just one. Because when you’re under me I can see your face when I’m deep inside you. I can watch your eyes roll back and how your lips soundlessly form my name and your legs wrapped around my hips can slowly drive me insane. But when you’re on top of me I feel like you’re a goddess gracing me with your blessing. And when you’re on all fours and I’m above you, I can feel the tension in your whole body, how you desperately use every inch of space to get more friction and look at your pretty little back arch while I grip onto your thighs.”

Enough said, isn’t it?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s probably way too used to putting up the perfect performance in the beginning. But he slowly learns that being intimate means so much more: that it means being so deeply comfortable with each other, each other’s body and mentally, emotionally, that’s not about perfection at all. And that it can be so joyful if someone cracks a joke in the middle of the act because somehow the moan Tav let out sounded like a dying squirrel. Or because Astarion butchered his cheesy line because you’re driving way beyond mad with the way your hips roll.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Elves have little to no body hair so there’s not much to take care of. The little hair that might exist just stays and is neatly groomed just like the whole man.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Astarion opening up in these moments is one of the most beautiful things. Because he slowly learns to experience real intimacy. He’s slowly fully there with you: it’s not an act anymore. His hands linger now on your soft, warm skin, his kisses become more passionate and never ending, his eyes burn with desire but mostly with love. And he makes sure to tell you: tells you how much he loves you, praises every inch of your body. His heart is so wide open when he gets there, he’s so ready to be loved and to give love – being amplified by the fact that he’d never even dared to believe he’d be allowed to feel something like this.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t really – because why when he has you at his fingertips. Although if you had to be away for a little while he might find he’s craving you way more than anything else. And when he’s sitting soaking in the tub and he’s reminded of how you look getting out of the tub, streams of water glistening on your body – he finds himself pleasuring himself thinking about how it will be once you’re back with him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Hmm yes, the thing with blood. Drinking from you while being in the middle of the act – yeah, you kinda both enjoy that quite a bit.

But also it’s such a massive turn on for him if you give yourself to him completely. The fact that you’re trusting him this much is driving him almost insane.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Oh, it could happen anywhere at any time.

Your enormous bed is your favourite place by far though. After all this safe space of coziness is just where you can completely intimate with each other in any kind of way. But Astarion for sure has to test every surface in the house with you – at least once. Okay, maybe twice for good measure.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Just you literally doing anything. Once he realises he’s in love with you, he’s fallen and can’t get up. You’re angry at him – woah, the look you throw him takes his breath away. The way you bite your lip when you’re concentrating on something – he wants to put his lips on yours immediately.

And let’s not even talk about when you try to deliberately turn him on. You wearing something naughty just for him? You very purposefully letting your hands wander and linger just a little too much for it to be innocent?

“Love, either you keep these naughty little hands to yourself or you’ll put them right there right now and finish the godsdamned job”, Astarion whispers huskily and grabs one of your hands, deliberately placing it on the growing bulge between his legs.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

If he ever felt used in that way again he’s been put through for way too long – he will NEVER do that again.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Astarion very much enjoys giving head, because the way your thighs press around his head while he can feel you shiver and the way the pitch of your moans rise – hmm, delicious.

He hasn’t been receiving quite that often so he’s not particularly fond of it, until – it’s you and he realises how wonderful you look with your lips wrapped around him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It really depends on the mood. There’s certainly not just the one way with Astarion. He can be so incredibly sweet and tender, touches like feathers. But another time it might be he has you up against a wall and it’s all about carnal lust – making it rough and quick. But he certainly always makes sure it’s pleasant for the both of you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

As much as Astarion enjoys spending whole nights (or days) with you under his hands (or the other way around), he wouldn’t say no to just quickly bending you over the kitchen table to give you a sweet little reminder why it is that you can’t get enough of him – ever.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Experimenting, yes? He likes to show you new things, but he’d never put you in any danger and making sure you’re one hundred percent comfortable with what’s happening is always his top priority.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

No matter what you can’t possibly keep up with him. And he teases you about it (affectionately): “Aww love, I was just getting started. We didn’t even get to the real fun parts.” You just glared him, being too out of breath to put anything you wanted to verbally hurl at him into words.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

The only things he needs really is you and himself. Although something like tying you up against the bed sometimes? Covering your eyes? But for the most part he enjoys completely uninterrupted body contact the most – and that by far doesn’t have too mean it’s always sweet and soft. Those long and elegant fingers have much expertise with sleight of hand and they don’t call it silver tongue for nothing.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, an awful lot. Astarion is the definition of a tease. But in his defence: he also takes delight in being teased back. It’s no fun if you don’t claw back. And bickering and teasing a lot is definitely your specific kind of foreplay.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Astarion’s quite verbal – especially since he’s discovering new heights of pleasure with his loved one. Groaning and moaning – especially your name or praises for you. Also he does not care if he’s loud – he’ll proudly let the whole world now how much he desires you (much to the displeasure of you and your party members, oops).

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It’s Astarion absolute specialty to make you flustered in public. Once he’s found you get these delightful full body blushes he makes it his goals to tease you at the most inappropriate times. You hate him and you love him for it – this smug bastard. He just knows how to push your buttons way too well.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s hot alright. He most definitely has those muscles for vanity reasons and thankfully vampirism made sure he’s keeping those abs no matter how much of a domestic softie he’s gotten with you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High – especially in the beginning. Once he’s free to enjoy his own desires at his own pace there will most definitely be this high-demand honeymoon phase. You’re both not quite sure it will always really end (and you surely hope not).

But: it’s also important for Astarion that he’s getting more confident to maybe just not be in the mood every single time. Just like you aren’t always, too. And that’s completely fine, you assure him time and time again that you’ll never want him to indulge you just because he feels an obligation.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You can sleep when you’re dead. There’s way too much stuff to be done after: maybe another round (or more), cuddle, talk, goof around, down a bottle of wine.

Although slowly drifting into sleep after being fully satisfied and full of love and warmth: that’s definitely the best way to end a night.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #fanfiction #baldur's gate iii #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x reader #astarion headcanon #astarion headcanons #astarion imagine #poro headcanons

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moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

Hi Mae! I absolutely adore you and your writing, you truly have a gift!

Can I please request something with James Potter where readers anxiety is really bad and is super emotional cause pms and is just kinda struggling and needs to be dealt with the most gently? Totally not projecting much at all lol 😬😫🤣

Totally no pressure if you don’t feel up to it! I love reading anything you write ❤️❤️

Hi lovely, thanks so much!!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 772 words

“Here y’go, love.” James presses a mug’s handle into your hands, and you take it quickly once you realize he’s holding the hot sides.

“James!” you hiss, chiding. “You’re going to burn yourself.”

Only James Potter could make a shrug seem fond. He sits down beside you on the couch, hand resting on your thigh, and the knee you hadn’t realized you’d been jiggling slows to a stop.

“What’s eating you?” he asks mildly, rubbing you from knee to hip as he sips his tea, quietly hinting for you to do so as well.

You sigh, blowing on your tea before raising it to your lips. “Nothing so important I should be this stressed about it,” you say bitterly. “It’s just PMS.”

You hate how your hormones mess with you around this time of the month. It makes it feel like you can’t trust yourself, because you’re never sure if the emotions you’re experiencing are valid or amplified by your body’s punishing cycle. Your already oversensitive nerves go into overdrive, and you feel three times as susceptible to bouts of rage or crying, though which one it’ll be is as good as a coin toss. Everything is just more, and all the time, and it sucks.

James makes a sad puppy sound. “Yeah? Are you hurting, honey?”

“Not really.” You have a headache, but that’s probably more due to your anxiety than anything else.

“Well, why don’t you try telling me what’s bothering you,” James suggests. “Even if you think it’s not a big deal, maybe I can help.”

You sigh again, a heaving, dramatic exhale. “Macy’s having a birthday party this weekend.”

That surprises a smile out of James, and he tilts his head to look at you bemusedly. “Oh, how nefarious! Shall we curse her?”

You give him a look that says not funny, even as your own lips curl up slightly. James smothers his grin as best he can (which is to say, not very well), nodding at you seriously to continue.

“I just—” you heave another sigh, and James’ hand redoubles its efforts on your leg, squeezing the fatty inner part encouragingly. “I’m not going to know anyone there, and I’m going to have to go straight after work on Friday, and she and her friends always stay out so much later than I want to. I just know I’m going to be exhausted.”

“Okay.” James is nodding, still looking slightly confused. “So don’t go.”

“But it’s her birthday,” you say, the last syllable taking an unexpected turn into whiny territory as your eyes grow wet. “I don’t have an excuse to miss it and I’ll be the worst friend in the world if I do.”

“Sweetheart, hey.” James’ voice takes on a slight panicked edge due to the appearance of tears, though you can tell he’s trying to be soothing. His hand abandons your leg to snake around your waist, scrubbing up and down your side. “Honey, you’re a great friend. You’re just looking out for yourself a little bit,” he promises, kissing the top of your head. “Let’s think about who’s going to be more upset, alright? If you miss it, Macy might be a bit sad you didn’t come, but she’s still got all of her other friends who don’t know you anyway, and the party will probably go on as it would have. But if you go, you’ll have to hurry there straight after work, you might be too tired to be much fun, and you could end up miserable the whole night. Sound right?” You nod wretchedly, and he hums into your hair. “So just miss this one, and make it up to her with lunch or something another time, yeah?” At your hesitation, he adds, “You have plans Friday night, you can’t make it.”

You look up at James. “I don’t have plans, though. I don’t want to lie to her.”

“Sure you do, sweetheart,” he contradicts you, grinning. “You have plans with me, duh. You’ve only been friends with Macy for a couple months, right?” You nod. “Well then sorry, Macy, but I’m pulling rank.” You laugh, and James swoops down to kiss at your dimple when it appears. “I need my girl for Friday night. She’s pre-engaged.”

James can never stop kissing once he’s gotten started, and you hide your cheek from him in his own chest, wrapping your arms around his waist in an awkward sort of hug. “Thanks, Jamie.”

You can still hear the smile in his voice. “Anytime, my love. Now, since that’s been resolved, do you think you can drink your tea? It’s gonna get cold.”

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loveandmurders · 4 months

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You belong to Ambrose III (Poly!Sinclairs x f!reader)

Hey everyone!! I'm very happy you still are enjoying this little series. In the end, it should be four parts!

If you have missed the first chapter, it's here, and the second one is here.

Hope you'll enjoy and keep commenting because it's really helping me writing again <3

Warnings : no proof reading, mentions of killing, of sexual activities (nothing explicit), of toxic love, morally grey reader, angst.

You refused to open the door for the rest of the day.

You knew where the key was hidden so it had been easy for you to lock it up. And even if Bo could have shot the door open, the brothers agreed it was a terrible idea because you were already pretty mad at them.

The situation was killing them. But it was better than your absence, and if they had to choose between this or you being gone forever, they would rather keep you here, no matter how upset you would be.

You were home.

On the other hand, even if they didn’t say it, they all believe they knew you well enough to seduce you back in their embrace. After all, it wasn’t the first argument you had with them, and you always came back to them. You came back because they always showed you they were eager to make things better for you. You were the only person Bo ever apologised to, for instance, because they would do anything for you.

They wanted to believe that things were going to be back to what it was supposed to be. The good thing was that you didn’t seem afraid of them anymore. They were pretty certain they could fix the situation from there. They just needed to not do anything that would make you feel threatened.

They also hoped you remembered how they loved you, how they could only love you. You should know how insane and obsessive their love was. You should be able to understand why they needed to kill your friends. And it wasn’t truly to punish you, it was mostly because they couldn’t stand you around other people. You were supposed to love them, and only them. You were theirs, forever.

Bo thought he might need to also kill your mother because he noticed she kept calling on your phone. She was worried for you, because it had been a while she hadn’t heard from you. She had a bad feeling about all of this, so she kept calling. In the end, he answered it. She didn’t recognise his voice as he explained to her, doing his best to conceal his southern accent, that you were currently under the shower but that you would call her back soon. It appeased her, even though she seemed a little bit suspicious. She asked several times if you were okay.

Meanwhile, Vincent and Lester got rid of the bodies. It was better to pretend you never went with your friends anyways. Vincent was a little bit sad to let go of such perfect people, but he was ready to sacrifice his art to you. Lester was happy those friends of yours were dead but he thought they might have been too quick at killing them. Maybe they should have convinced you it was better that way, before doing it. He was aware they had been too impulsive; the brothers had never been too good at staying calm when it was about you.

As Lester went back to his truck, he sent a little look at your room window. He prayed to the Devil for you to open the door and agree to talk to them.

You were getting crazy inside your room. You couldn’t rest and everything around you reminded you of your childhood with the Sinclairs. You rolled your eyes when you noticed the boys kept your clothes, even the very old ones. It seemed like they couldn’t get rid of anything that used to belong to you, even broken toys.

Your heart tightened in your ribcage when you took a closer look at the drawings littering the walls. More memories flooded through your mind. You used to be all happy together. The first drawings you found were very childish, but slowly they got better. There were a lot of portraits of the whole family, including you. You remembered the day you were doing the portrait of Trudy was the day you first kissed Vincent. The weather was so hot and no one was around, so you told Vincent to remove his mask. He agreed, because it was you. You made him feel so normal, so handsome even. You didn’t really know what happened, but you ended up on his lap, kissing him as if your life was depending on it. His hands had held you with such strength, almost leaving bruises on you. He knew he was your first kiss, and it made him feel good about himself. He grew addicted to your touch and kisses then, and you used to love being his little goddess.

You also found gifts the boys got you. You found quite a few rocks and you remembered Lester offered them to you during your first date with him. The twins were barely leaving the two of you alone, so you both decided to sneak away. You went together in the woods, knowing no one would find you there. You let him guide you, trusting him. He was a little bit shy, so you had been the one who took his hand in yours. You could see him again, watching you with heart eyes and letting escape how beautiful, smart and amazing you were. He couldn’t stop babbling and when he finally calmed down, he kissed the back of your hand, his eyes lit with adoration. He promised you to only belong to you that day, and he never broke his word.

You also found a photo album of your teenagehood and early adulthood. You shivered when you noticed how the boys were always looking at you with so much love, tenderness and desire, in literally every picture of the four of you. Bo often had his arm wrapped around your waist. Vincent was holding your hand. Lester was hugging you from behind. There were photos of you all partying too. And at the end of the album, photos of you kissing the boys. Bo was passionate. Vincent was possessive. Lester was hungry.

One photo caught your attention. It was a summer night, you were wearing a cute little dress and Bo took a picture of you. You remembered that that night, the boys were relentless around you. You were the prettiest thing in their lives and they wanted you. You remembered you laughed so much that night, teasing them. The truth was you were burning for them too. At the end of the night, Bo brought you to a hotel room away from Ambrose and he made love to you for the first time. You both desired each other so badly. He had been so gentle to you, eager to make you feel good before his own pleasure. Despite the rumours, Bo was as virgin as you then. He had waited for you because he only wanted you. He learnt how to play with you, patient and attentive, and then he taught his brothers. You had a very fond memory of that night.

You had very fond memories of the boys.

You didn’t want to admit it but you missed those happy times. It upsetted you a lot, even more than you already were. For the moment, things seemed to be all shattered to pieces, litke the plate you threw at the wall earlier that day. How could things go back to what it used to be, now they killed your friends, now you spent years away from them?

And yet, a little voice inside your head was begging you. She asked you to forgive them. Did you really care about your friends? Could you care when you were finally home? When you could finally have their hands on your body, after all those sleepless nights, dreaming about the feeling of their skin against yours? You never forgot how they made love to you. And whenever you were with someone else, you wished it would be them instead.

Maybe you shouldn’t have left Ambrose, but it was too late. Maybe you shouldn’t have done this road trip, but it was too late as well. You were stuck, and you didn’t know what to do anymore. You thought you should want to escape, but your heart was breaking even more at the idea of leaving once again. You tried to tell yourself that you were simply afraid of what the Sinclairs would do to you if you tried to get away. But you knew you were lying to yourself. You weren’t afraid.

It was the middle of the night when you heard something scratching at your door. You were trying to sleep, but you needed a shower, and some food, and you started to feel lonely, locked up in there, so you couldn't rest. The noise was also preventing you now. You got irritated so you finally opened the door to meet a cute dog at the entrance. You didn’t know Jonesy but you could tell she was the family dog and she was well taken care of. You sat on the floor and started to pet her. You had to admit that she brought you some comfort, because she was very soft and affectionate. You quietly talked to her as she greeted your caresses with kisses of her own.

The twins were chatting in the kitchen, planning about what to do about you, when they heard you opening your door. However, they got confused when you didn’t seem to come downstairs or to walk to the bathroom, so they looked for you.

They quite enjoyed seeing you cooing at Jonesy, and it felt to them that fate was speaking once again because their dog never liked strangers. And yet, she seemed to be all over you already. You felt you were watched so you looked up and met their gazes. Your attention quickly went back on Jonesy. You weren’t sure what to do, and it was annoying you.

“Ya hungry?” Bo asked in the softest way he could manage, hoping to coax you, but you simply shrugged. “Ah com’on, baby girl” he hummed.

The twins carefully moved closer to you and sat on the floor as well. Jonesy loved to have her humans at her level for once so she happily barked and greeted the boys who petted her.

You stayed silent for a little while. You all were very tense, which was strange because you used to be so at ease around each other. The twins couldn’t wait for you to relax. And you couldn’t wait to forgive them or to get out of here.

“I’m sorry for your friends. We all really are.” Vincent finally signed to you. The only source of light was coming from your room but you were seeing enough of his hands to read them.

“No you’re not, or you wouldn’t have done this” you snapped

“They were in the way. They would have never agreed to leave you here and they would have called the police on us. We couldn’t take the risk when we finally had the opportunity to bring you where you belong. We didn’t have any other choice” Vincent continued

“Whatever you say” you replied

“Lester is really sad you seemed so upset at him earlier and we really want to fix the situation with you.” Vincent tried again

“I’m not sure we can fix anything” you whispered. You felt sad, but not only because of your friends.

“Ya’re one of us, ya always had been.” Bo said as he reached for your hand and brought it to his lips to kiss. You tried to not react to the kiss. And then he didn’t allow you to remove your hand from his grasp, actually trying to bring you closer to him. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, love, I’m sorry. Ya know I say stupid things when I’m angry” he finally apologised. “We’re blessed ya’d fallen in love with the three of us or we’d’ve killed each other to be your favourite lover” he hummed and you knew he was only half joking about it.

“And yet my mother said you wanted to marry me” you replied as you leaned against the frame of the door. Jonesy put her head on your lap.

“Still want it…” Bo hummed. Vincent sent him a little look. “And speakin’ of your mother, she keeps callin’. Told her ya’d call her back soon” Bo told you before handing your phone back to you.

“Could call the cops on you” you replied as you took your phone. Bo shrugged.

“Ya won’t. Ya still love us too.” Bo replied with a cheeky grin and you arched an eyebrow at him.

“You seem very confident about it, Bo” you commented

“Ya’re angry at us for the moment, and it’s normal, ‘cause we kill your “friends”. But ya’ll forget about them soon enough” he replied

“How do you know that?” you groaned

“Ya’re actin’ like ya used to. Ya ain’t afraid of us, ya call us out, ya got mad at us when we ain’t doin’ what ya wanna. Ya called this room, yours. Ya’re sittin’ on the floor like if ya’re ownin’ the place. Which ya do, by the way. Ya always did” Bo enumerated the reasons that made him think you were still in love with them “And it’s been years ya should’ve called the cops on us. Ya knew what we were doin’ here and ya knew our plans. And yet, ya never called them.” he continued and you looked away. You couldn’t argue with that.

“I wanted another life, that’s why I left Ambrose. Of course I kept thinking about you guys a lot, but I didn’t want this mess.” you told them

“And yet you came camping close by Ambrose”. Vincent noted “Like if you were trying your luck”

“Yes. I was tempting the devil I guess, and he didn’t miss me” you sighed, wondering what you were going to do now.

“Tell us what we can do to make things better” Vincent asked

“I don’t…”

You jumped when your phone rang. You answered when you saw it was your mother, with the only desire to reassure her so you could peacefully think of the mess you were in without having to worry about her calling the cops. You half realised that you indeed really didn’t want anything bad to happen to the three men you used to live with.

“Hey, mom” you said

“Hey, darling, where are you? I couldn’t join you easily today.”

“I’m sorry about that, my phone died and we had to find a hotel for the night” you lied with so much ease. You learnt it from the twins.

“When did you say you would come back home?”

“I’m not sure, mom. We’re… getting behind the plan because we faced some car issues. Nothing serious, don’t worry.”

“Is everything okay? You sound strange”

“Of course everything is alright, I’m just tired. I call you tomorrow, mom, have a good night, love you.” you said before hanging up.

You closed your eyes and took your head in your hands. You could have told her about the kidnapping and the murders, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to finish breaking everything with the Sinclairs. Bo might be right; you might be still badly in love with them, even though it was a mistake that already cost you your friends.

You felt the twins gently stroking your hands and then arms. They had missed touching you. They moved closer to you again, surrounding you like they used to.

“Let us show ya life can be worth it here. We ain’t deservin’ ya, but ya know we’re good at takin’ care of you” Bo whispered to you and you really wanted to believe it.

PART IV

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jade-jini · 7 months

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Student Council president!Chaewon x Little Menace reader Headcanon

Genre: Fluff. Smut.

Warning: this sht is LONG and well as I said there’s a little bit of smut-

I recommend reading Yunjin’s headcanon first since it’s where this chaewon is first introduced. Not necessary tho. I mentioned before that I think this will be some type of series. And yes, but also I might post other student council content but with Yunjin as the romantic interest. Almost the same universe as these but with that difference. Anyway we’ll see how it goes in the future.

-Your dynamic is basically arguing almost 24/7 dbdjdjnd

-Your friends find it amusing most of the time tbh.

-Your routine is based on having breakfast, creating a little bit of chaos here and there, and getting detention/afternoon activities as punishment which were mostly with the student council members.

-Which in your brain translates to having a good day because you had food, went to class, had a lot of fun and spent time with your favorite girl(s) during the afternoon. What’s better than that??

-Chaewon, on the other hand, just can’t believe you.

-How are you always getting in trouble but looking so happy? Aren’t you concerned about anything?! She knows you’re smart, and knows you’re not a bad person neither, but you’re so reckless and impulsive and just a magnet for trouble sometimes and Omg you get on her nerves, you’re like a puppy who never listens!

“Why would you do something like that!”

“It was Yeonjun‘s fault! Why Tf would he say green flavor when red or blue are better!”

“Those are colors, y/n. not flavors!”

“you don’t get it :(!”

-you’d complain with a pout like a little kid. Again, you get on her nerves so easily.

-She’s always scolding you, telling you that you need to tone it down, to learn how to behave, be responsible and to stop being such a troublemaker.

-To respect your school and take some pride on being a student there.

-You just sigh, roll your eyes and complain that maybe you don’t need to tone it down, maybe she needs to tone it up and learn to have fun and to let go of all that seriousness.

-And you guys spend the time arguing about it.

-The rest of the girls look at you in amusement

-You’re sure you heard Eunchae said that you two should get a room.

“Hey! What do you know about those things huh?!” You heard Sakura said while chasing Eunchae down, who ran away to avoid being scolded as well.

-You looked at chaewon, who also heard the whole thing and laughed at how her cheeks turned into a cute pink tone. You winked at her and started walking to the gym to meet with Ryujin and Yujin but

“Hey I’m not done with you! You still have detention today and the principal said you’re assigned to help me move some equipment from a practice room and…”

-But when she’s not scolding you tho…

-Ohoho when you guys are alone

-you’re all over each other kissing until your chests hurt ‘cause of the lack of air.

-You’re sure you’ve kissed her in every secret corner of the school.

-In the library, when you meet up with the excuse of tutoring you.

-You have her against the bookshelves at the end of the hall, holding her so close to you while her arms are around your shoulders. Kissing her like her mouth is more interesting than any adventure in any book in that library.

-And it is! You’re sure about it.

-In empty rooms when you’re assigned to help her with anything the prestigious Stucon president might desire. Lucky for you, very often what she desires the most is you.

-Encounters in the student council’s office when you have detention and Yunjin is not there to watch you. It’s never planned and she always says it won’t happen again because it’s their office and it’s the school! It’s not a place for such acts!

-But it always ends up happening bsjsndjd you just let her talk ‘cause it’s funny. But it really only takes for you to kiss her neck and she’s melting in your arms, ready for you to please her.

-You lift her and make her sit on her own desk, while you get on your knees and eat her out so good she almost forgets where she is.

-She’ll grab your hair and push you closer to her pussy, rubbing herself on your tongue and looking at that pretty face between her legs while she bites her hand trying to keep herself quiet.

“Hurry up! they’re gonna come in any second”

“Hopefully you too”

“Omg shut up…”

-As I said you let her talk ‘cause it’s just comical that she tries to lie to herself when you both know she can’t keep her hands off you when you’re both alone.

-Unless you’re not in the mood to deal with that.

-Either ‘cause something happened and you’re angry or ‘cause you’re stressed.

-You’d be rather quiet for your usual self, surprising her.

“What’s up with you?” she asked with a raised eyebrow (the rock).

-You looked at her, without answering while an idea popped in your head.

-Maybe the dear stucon president could help you destress.

-So you get up and sit on her lap while you kiss her aggressively.

-She tries pushing you, shocked about it.

“Wait ! Not here, somebody could walk in and-”

“Kim Chaewon, shut. up” you said in a rather deeper voice that gave her shivers and made her close her mouth immediately, ‘cause there weren’t many occasions where you’d be actually dominant like that. “I’m gonna fuck you on top of this desk until you can’t feel your fucking legs do you hear me?”

-And she’s scared but is even more turned on ‘cause damn didn’t you look hot af like that bekdkdkd

-So instead of “complaining or arguing” about how you shouldn’t be having sex at school, she follows your each and every order, enjoying how you fuck her while bent over her own desk, the papers she was working on long forgotten. Pulling her hair, spanking her ass and grabbing her tits from behind while focusing all your energy and anger in only one thing: making the girl under you come hard as you fuck her until her brain can’t organize an easy thought besides you you and you only.

-After you’re done and dressed again tho, she’ll ask you why you were so upset.

-You ended up telling her what happened and depending on what is it, she always has a way of making you feel better. (Besides Fuckin, Ofc)

-If it’s a silly thing, then she’ll jokingly scold you a little bit

“Seriously?! You’re angry because Ryujin scored and won against you?!”

“I’m angry because she cheated! I wouldn’t be angry if she’d won fairly but she wasn’t following the rules we stablished ! Not fair” you said with cross arms and a pout, causing Chaewon to laugh at you.

She shook her head to then rest it on your shoulder “fine you’re right, but still I can’t believe you, y/n”.

-If it’s something serious tho, she’ll quietly listen to you as you vent and either give you a little bit of advice if you ask for it or she’ll just let you talk if she doesn’t know what to say, knowing sometimes you just need to let things off your chest.

-And since Yunjin wasn’t there that day, she could do her role as your bestie. Ofc she could, you could always come to her.

-Lowkey jealous and a lil possessive as you can see lol

-Not if it’s her friends tho (well -)

-But like if she sees someone being too touchy or extra smiley with you it’ll show. ‘Cause yeah you’re funny and charming but she didn’t know you was a fvckin comedian to have that girl almost rolling on the floor and choking when you’re just there breathing-

-Anyway!

-You think it’s hot tho. Oh-

-Specially since you know it’ll reflect when you’re alone jddjkfjf. More details here.

-Constantly fixing your tie ‘cause it’s always loose and your shirt sndkdjj.

-You tell her that’s just your style and you like it like that!

-But she says your uniform should always look impeccable because students represent the school. You roll your eyes, but let her have her way because secretly you enjoy the attention and how cute she always looks fixing your tie and shirt collar.

-It’s not like she’s trying to change the person you are. Even if you’re a little bit of a mess, she respects and appreciates you.

-But Ofc you know she’d like you to be a little less of a menace kdndkfh. She knows it won’t happen. Not that easy. But she’s happy to be a little bit of a good influence sometimes (lol).

-And you’re happy to be the one corrupting the oh so well mannered student council president Kim Chaewon.

-It’s a win-win, sex or not related.

-You love your dynamic. It’s fun, it’s interesting.

-Sometimes you wish you didn’t have to watch out for how much distance you had to keep with her sometimes tho. You weren’t good at it anyway, you let yourself be guided by your feelings. Often hugging her close, Ofc with the excuse you guys are friends (even when most of the time people see you arguing shjdkdjf).

-People bought it tho.

-You had that cute golden retriever puppy energy, so they knew you got clingy with your friends sometimes.

-didn’t expect it to happen with the stucon presi who sometimes seem like your enemy more than your friend but oh well -

-Who could say no to you anyway, right?

-You like it like that tho, being each other’s little secret. Maybe eventually the guilt of hiding this whatever-it-is from your friends will invade you two. But for that you’d have to first realize that what you’re feeling is more than physical attraction aaand

-we’re not there yet jdndkdn.

#kim chaewon #chaewon x reader #kim chaewon x reader #stucon chaewon x reader #Menace reader #Stucon Le Sserafim #le sserafim #le sserafim imagines #le sserafim scenarios #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim x y/n #kpop gg #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #le sserafim x fem reader #le sserafim smut #kim chaewon smut #chaewon smut

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cybiirz · 6 months

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ೃ⁀➷ DOCUMENTS

Wriothesley x Gn!Reader

Sypnosis : Seems like a certain Warden had tired himself out. Being the kind person you were, you chose to help, but you forgot how deceiving an inmate can be. He was no different…But at least he pays?

WC : 829

“Wriothesleyyy! I brought you something from Sigewinne. She says it’s for like, helping you stay awake or whatever,” You groaned out as you treaded up the stairs. Currently, you were holding a large box of medicine that you were supposed to be delivering to other inmates.

That was your punishment for getting involved in a little experiment that was supposedly forbidden in the fortress…Either way, it was tiring and you just wanted it to be done with.

Your footsteps echoed against the walls as you stomped onto the metal stairwell. Finally, you reached the top, and with a lack of breath might you add. Who the hell needed so much medicine anyway? Nevertheless, you kept your head low as you observed the different bottles inside.

“There’s a lot here, let me just find yours and…got it. Huh, this thing has way too many side effects! How the hell do you even—” You lifted up your head to look at Wriothesley, only to find him practically passed out on his desk. You paused and cocked your head to the side.

Suddenly, you had an idea and with a smile and a slight skip in your step, you closed in on the desk. Outstretching your arms, you held the box over the table before dropping the heavy equipment, creating a loud slam against the wood.

No reaction.

“Huh? So he’s really knocked out then,” You murmured quietly to yourself. You opted to walk around the table and slowly approached his unconscious form. You began poking his head, and to no surprise, no reaction.

“Jeez. You overwork yourself too much you idiot,” You whispered next to him. Glancing at all of his papers, it took less than a second to see how messed up everything was. You sighed deeply and decided to help out this son of a gun.

It had been about an hour or so, with you going over the different documents and having to dig deep into his shelves to pair up each page to its designated folder. Covering your mouth, you let out a loud yawn before looking back over at the warden. Still fast asleep.

A small chuckle left your lips as you walked back over to him. Resting yourself against the table, you lifted your left hand and gently stroked his head.

“Well I organised each and every document for you. And since I went over each word written, I've seen you’re doing a good job for this prison. Even for inmates like me, you treat us well…But you are definitely paying me back one way or another once you’re awake,” After partially scolding him but mainly complimenting him, you began to get lost in a daze as you stared softly at the man in front of you.

Once you finished speaking, his head turned slightly, eyes opening with a small smirk splayed on his lips. You swiftly retracted your hand and looked away, trying to avoid his stare.

“Thanks for that (name). I appreciate you doing that but, you know I could’ve done all of it that whole time. I wasn’t actually asleep you know?,” He replied, his voice slightly condescending.

“Yeah well I expect payment back and—” Your arms crossed over your chest before you paused. What did he just say? “Hang on, you were pretending?! You little liar! You’re so lazy that you had to fake sleeping to get someone else to do your work for you?! Now I better get that payment before I rip your—”

You were quickly cut off as a pair of lips landed directly onto yours. Your eyes instantly widened in shock as Wriothesley lifted his hand and cupped your face. Slowly but surely, you melted into the kiss and held your arm up before resting your hand onto his shoulder.

After parting, the light sounds of heavy breathing could be heard from you. You tried to look everywhere apart from him, but he moved his hand to grip your chin, causing you to face him.

“That was, unnecessary warden,” You mumbled, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“That was your payment,” He responded smugly. Looking at him with your blood rushing to your cheeks, you noticed the slight crease in the corners of his eyes. He was smiling at you, and not one of mockery or a fake smile, it was genuine.

“Well then…I have to get going and deliver these to the other inmates. Thank you for paying me back,” You cleared your throat before moving away from him and picking up the box. You left his medicine on the table as you made sure to secure the lid of the box. He crossed his arms over his torso as you began to descend down the stairs.

“(Name). Come back again and I'll be sure to repay you for whatever documents you organise for me,” Wriothesley’s voice had a somewhat teasing lilt to it, but it was evident he was serious. You rolled your eyes and simply scoffed at him before taking your leave.

But who were you to deny such a special treat?

A/N : Love me a little overworked man. But anyway, it’s finally my half term so i’ll hopefully be posting small drabbles that appear my head. Series work is becoming boring so oneshots and drabbles will probs be my thing. I might finish off the Gepard series but we’ll see. Also i’m thinking of doing a revamp to this blog buttt idk. Anyways, hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave requests!

#genshin x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin imagines #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley fluff #i love wriothesley

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suzukiblu · 4 months

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Another excerpt from the one where Tim is trans and Kon is not the father, plus a read-more for length.

“Bart’s really back too?” Tim asks, his voice not quite cracking.

“Back and also . . . okay, not the right age, but the age he was the last time I saw him,” Kon says. “Which apparently he was not for you guys for a while, what the fuck.”

“Long story,” Tim says, smiling helplessly.

“Yeah, I know, it took Bart a whole thirty seconds to explain it to me,” Kon says wryly.

“Have you seen . . . Cassie, yet?” Tim asks hesitantly, because he’s a fucking glutton for punishment, apparently. Because otherwise he’s just ignoring the elephant he coaxed into the room himself.

“No,” Kon says, shaking his head. “Bart went to go drop in on the Titans, but Clark brought me straight here. He figured I’d wanna see you and Kyra first. We had a very confusing thirty-first century conversation while he was trying to ease me into the ‘everyone knows you’re gay for your best friend’ thing and gently break the news about me being a dad, and then Bart just started talking his ear off demanding baby updates. It was, uh, interesting. I guess he died before she was born, but Clark didn’t realize he’d known you were pregnant?”

“Yeah,” Tim says, trying not to wince. “I mean–I didn’t know what to do at first, so I just took medical leave from the Titans for an ‘injury’, but I told Bart and Cassie, and then . . . well, then Bart died before I told the Kents. It was only a couple months or so–I didn’t want to make them feel worse, in case anything went wrong–but . . .”

But that’s how it is, in their line of work. A couple months or so is more than enough time for another one of your best friends to die.

“Please tell me you weren’t patrolling Gotham knocked up,” Kon says with a grimace.

“. . . technically, yes, but not after I realized I was knocked up,” Tim says, smiling weakly. “Not for . . . more than a week or two, anyway.”

Kon groans, dragging a hand back over his scalp. He looks pained. Tim pretends it’s because Kon thinks he’s an obsessed workaholic, and not because Kon knows him well enough to know how messed up he’d been to actually do that.

“I was in the middle of a case,” he says like it’s any kind of a defense. “And it was investigative work, not . . . I called Dick in to handle the violent parts, okay?”

“Small favors,” Kon says, then glances towards Kyra’s crib. “So you’re . . . retired? You hung up the cape?”

“I’m not Robin anymore,” Tim says. “And I’m not patrolling or running missions. But I can’t–if he ever finds out, if he ever finds her, I can’t be retired. I need to be–ready.”

Kon’s jaw tightens. Tim wishes he’d never had to say that. Wishes the lie had been true. Wishes–

Wishes a lot of things, some for Kon’s sake but most for Kyra’s.

And one or two for his own.

“What’s the new codename, then?” Kon asks, still looking at the crib. Tim’s grateful that he’s not . . . Tim’s just grateful. Grateful that this is Kon, and he’s alive, and he’s here, and . . . and that he’s going to let him lie.

He’s so fucking grateful for that.

“I haven’t exactly bothered rebranding,” he says with forced levity. “I’m not going out with anyone else and I don’t need a rep. I’m not a vigilante anymore. I just need to be able to handle any problems that might come up.”

“You know how Jimmy Olsen has a watch with a distress signal custom-tuned for Clark’s superhearing?” Kon says, glancing back at him with a slightly disgruntled expression on his face. “I’m getting you one. I’m getting you five. And think up a name, man. Get yourself a color scheme and a bunch of weirdly-themed gadgets going. There’s a lot of other birds in the world.”

Kon does have opinions about names, Tim supposes. For obvious reasons.

That was why naming Kyra after him was the only thing he could’ve done, but also a terrible thing for him to have done.

He really couldn’t have done anything else, though. He’d had to name her what he would’ve named her, if Kon had really been . . . if she’d really been . . .

He’d had to.

That’s the best way to lie, after all: use the truth.

“Okay,” Tim says. He might’ve been annoyed by the watch idea when they were younger. Felt like Kon didn’t think he could handle himself or was overestimating himself. He’s not annoyed now. Now it’s just one more contingency plan.

He’d do anything for Kyra. Wearing a panic button that Kon would recognize the frequency of is the least of what he’d do for her.

“Clark’ll help me get something around,” Kon says. “If, uh–especially if he thinks we’re, you know . . . together.”

“I could make it,” Tim points out. “You don’t need to bother him with it.”

“Clark knows the best frequencies to use. Plus then we can make sure it’s not gonna sound too much like Jimmy’s too,” Kon says, then flashes him a grin. “Besides, it’s more romantic if I’m the one giving it to you, right?”

“Fuck you,” Tim snorts, rolling his eyes as he shoves him, and Kon laughs and goes with it. Tim doesn’t know how to tell him he’s the best friend he’s ever had; the best friend he ever could have. He doesn’t know how to apologize enough for this. He doesn’t . . .

Kyra makes a squeaky crooning sound from her crib, and Kon blinks, and–

Oh, Tim thinks, watching Kon’s pupils visibly dilate into pinpricks. Right. He . . . forgot.

“What the fuck?” Kon says.

“Some of her vocalizations are . . . like that,” Tim says carefully as Kon stares fixatedly at Kyra’s crib. She squeaks again. “Um–Clark reacted a little weirdly to some of them too, he said they were–”

Kyra starts her usual melodic babbling, and Kon makes a low rumbling noise in response. Tim–blinks. Kon looks startled too, putting a hand to his chest.

“Uh,” he says. “That was . . .”

Kyra starts babbling louder, squealing for attention, and Tim rolls to his feet and heads over to her. She’s already reaching up before he gets to her, and squeaking excitedly for attention. She sounds like a little baby dolphin or something. Clark said there were resonances and undertones to her voice that human ears couldn’t pick up on, too.

But of course Kon’s not human, is he.

“Can I . . . hold her?” Kon asks awkwardly, stepping up beside Tim as he plucks Kyra up and staring intently at her. She dolphin-squeaks again. He bites his lip, clearly holding back whatever sound he wants to make in response; clearly holding back from reaching out for her.

“Let me change her first,” Tim says. Her diaper’s definitely wet, and he doesn’t want her to get uncomfortable.

“Can you show me how?” Kon asks, still looking a little awkward. “I haven’t been around too many babies, and I kinda just had to, like . . . improvise, the last time I was taking care of one.”

“Uh–sure?” Tim blinks at him in confusion. “Why do you care, though?”

“Dude, I’m not gonna be the kind of asshole co-parent who makes the one who got pregnant do all the diaper changes,” Kon says, looking dubious. “You should show me how to feed her, too. She’s on formula, right? It smells kinda like formula in here. And the kitchen did too.”

“. . . um, okay,” Tim says, and almost bursts into tears on him again. Of course Kon would be like this, the bastard. “She–is, yeah. Clark synthesizes a mix for her in the Fortress. The AI says it’s better for her system than the store-bought stuff, and I had trouble producing enough milk to keep up with her appetite. Plus I kind of needed to get back on my meds as soon as I could anyway, so . . . I mean, they’re supposed to be safe, but I didn’t want to risk it with her physiology.”

“Good, then I can help feed her,” Kon says. Tim blinks at him again, then just . . . takes Kyra to the changing table. She squeaks louder, clearly offended, and tries to reach for Kon. He trails after them, looking fascinated by her.

Well . . . Kon’s never seen a Kryptonian baby before, much less heard one, so . . . of course he would be, Tim thinks. Kyra’s only a quarter-Kryptonian, obviously, but genetically . . . genetically, she might as well be half-Kon, and . . .

And he’s never seen a Kryptonian baby.

So it makes sense that he’d react strongly, yes. It’d make sense that he’d be a little bit fascinated. Clark had reacted to her too. He’d looked just as startled as Kon had, the first time he’d heard her chirp and squeak for attention, and then just as fascinated.

Tim still wonders if Kyra’s the first time Clark’s ever fully felt any of the kind of instincts people normally feel, seeing a baby. Like–genetically speaking, he means. Instinctually. She’s seen more of him than Kon ever did, so . . . well, that might just be because they’ve been staying with the Kents, but Martha had mentioned how nice it was to have Clark around so often a few weeks ago, so . . .

Well. Tim has some suspicions, that’s all.

He wonders, very briefly–he wonders if he would respond to her like Kon and Clark do, if he ever–if he found out about–

He crushes that thought down into gravel and grinds it into his mental pavement. He doesn’t think about it again. Not at all.

(Would it be worse if he did or didn’t, though? If he saw her, and was FASCINATED–

Tim stops thinking about it.)

He changes Kyra’s diaper, taking his time a bit so Kon can better observe the process, and Kyra fusses and chirps and screeches through it. Kon stays in a little bit inconveniently close, but Tim doesn’t say anything about it. Kon can do a lot more than just be a little bit inconvenient, after telling him he’d let him lie about this. He’ll deal with having to work around him.

Kyra screeches louder. Kon makes a thrumming noise low in his throat, and she stops mid-screech and stares up at him intently. Her eyes are a human shade of blue–she got Tim’s eyes and hair, thank fuck, considering there’s no way he ever could’ve sold the alternative as being inherited from Kon–but Clark said there were . . . fractals, he’d described them as. He’d tried to explain, and then tried to draw the pattern, but it’s nothing Tim can see in her eyes for himself.

But it’s a Kryptonian trait, apparently, so he is very, very grateful he’d chosen the lie he had. Even if the squeaking and chirping hadn’t clued Clark in, if he’d ever met her . . .

Tim is very, very grateful he chose the lie he had.

And even more grateful that Kon is willing to help him keep it.

#tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #wip: the one where kon isn't the father #past rape

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slut4thebroken · 10 months

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Exposure Therapy pt. 8

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | You make the poor choice of teasing Dr. Crane, so obviously he has to punish you.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, kissing, hickeys, praise, edging, crying (but in a hot way), consensual sex, orgasm denial, cockwarming?, emotions? idk, neither does he tbh, bestie has no idea how to comfort you💀

Words | 3.6k

Notes | Trying really hard to keep his character accurate😓 lmk what y’all think lol

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 7

Neither of you mentioned his confession again. He seemed to be acting mostly normal and only a little awkward and withdrawn so you tried to remain the same to assure him that nothing changed. You were sitting on the couch, doodling with a spare piece of paper he found as well as an extra pencil, when you broke the silence.

“Where are you planning on sleeping?” You asked, eyeing the large space that was empty save for a desk, a chair, and a couch.

“The couch.” He said, not looking up from what he was working on.

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” You asked, making him sigh and turn his gaze to you. “For now you may sleep on the couch, I doubt I’ll be sleeping much anyway.”

“Oh. Don’t you have an apartment? A bed?”

“The cops are going to be looking for everyone that escaped, including myself- especially myself, because I created what caused all of that.”

“Oh… What if I go? I can bring you back some clothes so you don’t have to stay in that and anything else you need? I doubt I can lift a mattress on my own though.”

“You want to go to my apartment in the middle of town, wearing that?” He asked, raising his brows. You looked down at your outfit and frowned, just now remembering that you’re wearing it still.

“People are dumb enough to hang their laundry up outside. I’ll just take something before getting downtown.” You suggested, but back tracked when he was silent for a moment. “I don’t have to, it was just an idea.”

“What will you do if the police show up?”

“Um… I’ll tell them you’re my boyfriend and I left something there that I need.” That made him scoff.

“They won’t believe that.”

“Fine. Ex boyfriend. Who’s been so busy working that I had to just go there myself.” You shrugged and he narrowed his eyes at you for a moment.

“Fine. Know that if you get caught, I have no power or leverage anymore to help you.” Honestly you didn’t expect him to agree. You figured he might want to keep you within his sight at all times but that wasn’t the case. Trying not to read into this new found trust, you were going over the plan in your head.

“Wait, is it even within walking distance?” You realized, worried the whole plan just fell apart.

“It’s not on this island, so no. And the train is still down because of the bat.”

“Oh… I can probably walk, it’ll just take me longer I guess.” The sun was rising anyway, so it’ll probably be fine. “Or I’ll ask someone for a ride.”

“Do not do that.” He said sternly, making you frown.

“Why not?”

“Because this is Gotham and you are a young, attractive woman. You will more than likely be kidnapped, raped, or killed.”

“What am I supposed to do then?” He let out a heavy sigh, and got something out of his desk drawer. When he told you to come to him, you stood, leaving the pencil and paper, and walked over.

“Give me your hand.” You held your arm out to him and he gently grabbed your hand to put on a very weird shaped bracelet on your wrist. “In case you don’t have time to put the mask on, point it away from your face and hold your breath, then push this.” He pointed to a lever near the heel of your hand and you reached for it, trying to test the motion and get used to it, but he stopped you.

“Not- now.” He strained, uncurling your fingers.

“Sorry.” You said sheepishly.

Then you were leaving, finding clothes that looked about the right size and changing in an alley behind a dumpster. The tricky part was the shoes but they’re subtle enough that they shouldn’t draw very much attention. You found an empty paper bag near the dumpster and put the mask in it then started looking for someone to drive you. You spotted an older woman getting into a car and immediately walked toward her.

“Excuse me?” You said, making her pause.

“No change, sorry.”

“Oh no, I was actually hoping you could give me a ride. I have a job interview downtown and it probably wouldn’t make a good impression to show up all sweaty. But I understand if it’s too much trouble…”

She only hesitated for a moment before agreeing, telling you to get in the back and asking for the address. You read it off the paper to her and ten minutes later you were pulling up in front of an apartment building.

“You sure this is it?”

“It’s for a small business.” You explained, quickly getting out of the car. “Thank you so much.” You dropped the smile as soon as you turned around to walk into the building. “Fuck,” You groaned, “I don’t have a fucking key.” How could you have forgotten that part? You decided to just walk inside, breathing a sigh of relief when you spotted a front desk.

“Hi, I lost my key and my boyfriend’s out of town and I’m supposed to feed his cat,”

“What number?” The man asked, bored.

“178.” He reached back and grabbed a key, handing it to you impatiently. “Thanks...” He wasn’t lying when he said everyone and everything is corrupt or just doesn’t care.

You made your way to the elevator and pushed 17. As you waited, you went over the list he gave you. Most of the stuff was easy, an extra pair of glasses in his desk drawer, a few pairs of clothes, shoes, a toothbrush as well as the extra one under the sink for yourself, etc. But you were mostly worried about the safe and the papers he wanted. What if you can’t open it? What if you grab the wrong ones?

The elevator opening with a ding removed you from your thoughts and you made your way to his door. You worked quickly, not wanting to increase your chances of getting caught, but you took the time to fold his suits, worried he’d be upset if you just threw them in his duffel bag. You opened the safe on the second try, putting the money that was in there in the duffel bag.

Then you made your way to the desk. Even though the rest of the place was completely tidy, the desk was covered in different papers. He said they would be on top, not in a drawer, so you grabbed everything just to be safe.

Before leaving, you went through his dresser, praying he wouldn’t be pissed, and got some shirts and sweatpants for yourself, as well as a hoodie and socks.

The ride back was much easier since you had money to take a cab, but you still had to walk a few minutes, not wanting to be dropped off right in front of his “hideout” just in case.

“No trouble?” He asked, barely glancing up from what he was writing.

“Well I realized I forgot to ask about a key- speaking of which, you should probably move because the guy at the front desk just gave it to me.” The corners of his lips turned up and your cheeks went red, still not used to it.

“Good job.” You stared at him in shock, feeling your cheeks heat up even more, but you tried to play it off.

“Did you just compliment me?” You scoffed teasingly.

“Don’t get used to it. Did you bring the papers I asked for?”

“Oh- yeah.” You set the duffel bag on the desk and he opened it to inspect the contents. “I- I hope it’s okay, I brought just a few shirts and pants for myself too.” You said nervously. When he didn’t respond, you figured that meant it was okay. He started looking through the papers, then turned to you with raised brows. “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bring the wrong thing so I just took all of it.”

“Thank you.” He said, making your eyes widen.

“Mhm.” Was all you could say in response. “Oh- here.” You said, suddenly remembering the wristband and taking it off to give it back.

“Keep it.”

“What?” You choked out. “You- you’re not worried I’ll use it on you or something?” You asked, staring at him with furrowed brows.

“Of course not.” He scoffed, then set the papers down and took out a suit and the shoes as you just waited awkwardly, not sure what to do. “Are you just going to watch?” He was teasing you, but there was still an edge to his voice.

“N- no, sorry.” You blushed, turning around and staring at the ground, listening to the sound of clothes rustling behind you and thinking about how you’ve only ever seen his face, neck, hands, and cock- nothing else. The thought made you frown. “Unless it’s okay… then I’d like to watch.” You said quietly and the rustling stopped.

“Why?” His tone was guarded.

“I just- I haven’t seen you yet and you’ve seen all of me.” You explained meekly. “Nevermind, sorry.” You waited anxiously as you heard no movement from the man behind you.

“Go ahead.” He said in a measured tone. You tentatively turned around, finding him in just a pair of dress pants, straight jacket on the floor and shirt in hand. The first thing you noticed was how lean he looks without his suit. The second were the small scars littering his torso. The third was his happy trail, leading down into his pants, teasing you.

“Satisfied?” You looked up at him when you heard his voice, not able to read his expression. When all you could do was nod, his lips curled up into a small smirk. “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll fuck you stupid over the desk.” He warned, voice laced with arousal.

“Is that a promise, doctor?” You purred, stepping closer to him, setting the wristband on the desk to have both hands free. He stiffened, but allowed you to move until you were right in front of him. Staring deep into icy blue eyes, you slowly raised your hands, as if you were approaching a wild animal who could attack at any second. His eyes moved to your hands, watching, but he didn’t say anything. So you slowly moved them closer until you could almost feel the heat from his body against your palms. His eyes moved back to yours and you searched them for a deterrent. When you found nothing, you placed your hands on his chest, sliding them down his stomach, making sure not to linger on any scars. You reached his pants and brushed over the button teasingly before snaking them back up his body.

“You’re playing with fire.” He said lowly. Your hands reached his shoulders and you trailed them down his arms. Once you reached his hands, you grabbed the shirt and set it on the desk, then took both of his hands in yours, moving them around your waist.

“On the contrary, Dr. Crane. I’m getting exactly what I want.” You placed your hands on his stomach again to snake around to his back.

“Oh? And what’s that?” He said coyly, playing along.

“You can let me keep teasing you to my heart's content or you can punish me. Either way I win.” You smirked, moving your hands down his back to his pants and following the waist line around his body until they met at the button.

“You think you’ll enjoy however I choose to punish you?” He scoffed.

“You said it yourself, doctor. You don’t want to hurt me. So I’m sure I can take it.” His hands moved to your hips, gripping tight enough to make you wince as he pushed you against the desk.

“Foolish girl. You underestimate my desire to watch you crying and begging for my forgiveness. I have no problem torturing you, in fact, I’ll enjoy it.” You faltered at that. “Does that frighten you?” He asked, tilting his head.

“You don’t scare me anymore.” You said quietly, feeling the arousal in your stomach quickly make its way between your legs.

“That’s not what I asked.” He teased and you swallowed thickly, squirming under his gaze.

“No.” You tried to keep your voice steady.

“Maybe not yet. But I’m sure it will soon.” He reached a hand up to wrap around your neck, squeezing and pulling you forward as your breath hitched. “I don’t have to hurt you to torture you. You should know that by now.” He said quietly, gaze straying to your lips.

“I can take it.” You said, equally as quiet, not even believing the words as they left your mouth.

“You think so?” He cooed and you nodded in response. “I guess we’ll find out then.” He took a step back and you whined at the loss of his touch, reaching out for him. “Pick it up.” He said, gesturing to the straight jacket. Your eyes moved anxiously between him and the garment, hesitating. “This is the only warning I’m giving you— You don’t want me to tell you again.” You leaned down and picked up the straight jacket, then waited for his next command.

“Put it on.”

“Dr. Crane,” You whined, but he raised his brows, making you close your mouth and reluctantly slide it on. He stepped closer again then started buckling the restraints.

“You seem to think that pain is the only form of punishment I’ll inflict. I guess given my history I shouldn’t be surprised but you need to get that idea out of your head right now or things will only get worse for you.” You stared at him with wide eyes but his gaze remained on the task of restraining you. “There are plenty of ways I can punish you.” He said clinically, like a doctor explaining something to a patient. “Like denial, for example. Not just orgasm denial… You can’t touch me either.”

“Please- I’m sorry.” You whined, giving him puppy dog eyes that did not work at all.

“I bet you are. I bet you’ll say whatever it is you think I want to hear right now. Unfortunately, the only sounds I want from you are moans and cries.” He led you over to the couch and kneeled in front of you to pull down your pants and underwear before having you sit. He discarded your shoes so he could fully remove your clothes, then pulled you forward to the edge of the couch and spread your legs embarrassingly wide.

“I think you also underestimate my patience. I am more than willing to do this as long as it takes.” He started dragging his hands up and down your thighs, teasing you, never getting close to where you wanted him.

“Please.” You whined as your hips started squirming.

“Come now… We haven’t even started and you’re already begging? At least save that until the actual torture begins.”

“Don’t want torture.” You muttered.

“No? I thought you said this would be a win for you? That you can take it.”

“Please.” You whined, much brattier this time— all but throwing a fit.

“There’s that attitude.” He chuckled. “Keep that up. It makes it more fun for me when you break.” His hands snaked up your thighs, then back down, teasing you. You whined and squirmed, but surprisingly, it worked. He moved a hand between your legs, swiftly pushing in two fingers and rapidly curling them against your walls. You let out a choked moan from the sudden pleasure as your head rolled back onto the couch and your hips bucked. He pulled you even farther down the couch, then leaned down and took your clit in his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” You said through a moan, hips flinching as he groaned against you in response. Lifting your head to look down at him, you found his eyes already on you, making you blush and squirm under his gaze. After getting so turned on and not coming when you sucked him off before, your orgasm approached quickly. The volume of your moans increased as you started trying to rut against his face. He suddenly pulled back, his fingers halting, making you whine.

“Please, I was so close.” You pouted.

“I know.” He leaned back down, resuming the motions of his fingers as he started working your clit over in his mouth again. Your breathing grew heavier as you felt yourself nearing the edge again, but you let out a choked sob when he stopped.

“Please!” You cried.

“Shh. Be a good girl and take your punishment.” He muttered before leaning back down and continuing. You weren’t sure how many times you were on the cusp of pleasure before it was ripped away from you, but you knew it was at least five— after that you weren’t able to concentrate on counting through your crying and desperation. He pulled back but continued moving his fingers as you babbled out incoherent pleas.

“I have to admit, my patience is wearing thin so I’ll only keep this up for a little longer.” You sobbed in relief at his words. “Once I’m ready to come, I’m gonna fuck your ass. Remember how much you liked it before? It won’t be nearly as pleasurable this time and you certainly won’t be able to come from it.”

“No- no, please.” You said, panicked. The thought of being empty was enough to intensify your crying. “Please- I don’t care if I don’t come, just please fuck me.” You whimpered.

“Shh, it’s okay.” He said softly, but you just shook your head.

“No, I- I need your cock- please!”

“How do I know you won’t come?” He asked, slowing his fingers to a stop before removing them, making you whimper at the emptiness.

“I won’t! Please- I promise I won’t!” He watched you cry for a moment before cursing under his breath and working on taking his cock out of his pants.

“Can’t fucking say no to you.” He muttered, helping you to lay down on the couch as he crawled over you. The second he pushed in, you let out a relieved sob that turned into a whine when you tried to move your arms.

“Please- I want to touch you. Please let me touch you.” You whimpered, watching the way his brows furrowed as his mouth opened in a silent moan when he was all the way in.

“I can’t, you still need to be punished.” He said breathlessly and you sobbed the hardest you have all night so far.

“Please! Please- I’m sorry!” You cried and he shushed you as he brought a hand up to wipe away the tears on your cheeks.

“I know, it’s okay.” He cupped your cheek and leaned down to kiss you as he slowly started moving. Trailing kisses up your jaw to your ear, he whispered, “You’re doing so well, little one. Making me feel so good.” You sobbed harder at the pet name— not used to such affection from him.

“Oh god,” You moaned, already feeling close again. When he picked up the pace and began kissing and marking your neck, you started panting again. You tried to at least tone down your sobbing a little bit, but after you started, it was really hard to stop.

“Fuck- I’m already close.” He whined, rutting into you desperately now. His hands never left your body as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, letting out quiet moans and shaky breaths. When he stilled with a low groan, your cunt ached at the way his cock was twitching inside you, painting your walls with his come. After a moment, his moans stopped and he was panting heavily into your shoulder. When he started pulling out, you sobbing intensified.

“No! Please- please don’t- not yet.” You whimpered.

“I need to get this off of you.” He said, lifting his head from your neck to look at the straight jacket.

“I don’t care- just please don’t leave yet.” You cried.

“Okay- It’s okay. Sit up like this.” He maneuvered you so that he was sitting on the couch and you were straddling his hips, his cock never leaving you. He started working on the straight jacket, unbuckling all of it until he could slip it off if you and toss it on the floor. Now that your hands were free, you realized that you couldn’t even do anything with them, not without making him uncomfortable. So you continued crying.

“Okay, just- come here.” He muttered, pulling you down to lay on his chest. Your hands gripped his shoulders tight as you turned your cheek, listening to his heartbeat and feeling the warmth of his skin. His hands fumbled around for a moment before eventually settling on your hips and you knew that he was probably miserable right now. Honestly you’re surprised he didn’t just throw you off of him instead.

“I’m sorry- I…” He shushed you, not letting you continue babbling out apologies.

“Just breathe.” He said softly and you couldn’t help but obey. You let out a slow shaky breath, trying to calm yourself down. “That’s it. Just focus on breathing. You did so well for me, I’m very proud.” You let out another quiet sob at the praise and shushed you again as he moved a hand up to your hair, lightly stroking it to soothe you.

“You’re okay.” He said softly. “Just breathe— you’re okay.”

Part 9

(For the sake of the plot, bestie is no longer taking oral contraceptives because he had her get an iud or something back in Arkham lol)

#jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #scarecrow x reader smut #scarecrow #exposure therapy

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 11 months

Note

The brothers reaction to F!mc being stuck in a wall classic trope it can be nsfw If you want

Stuck in a Wall | Yandere Obey Me

If by brothers you mean the seven in Obey Me then they would love it. So much happens at the house of lamentation that it's only a given that at some point you end up stuck in the wall: your bottom exposed and your flailing hands as you frantically implore your demons to help you. Now whether they actually listen is up to them but it's a given that they all most certainly enjoy it:

Lucifer

“....Mammon?”

“Mammon.”

He’ll tiredly hold the bridge of his nose before moving his hands to release you

But he stops

Letting a coy smile spread across his face as he imagines actually using a spell to see you’re relieved face turns into confusion

“Luci?”

“...Now I don’t have to release you just yet. Heck, I might just let you serve your punishment for joining that idiot.”

“W-what?!”

“Of course, I’ll release you after.”

Better hope you haven’t incurred his wrath previously

Because even without a clear connection to why this has happened to you he’s chuckling

He’s generally tame if your rapport is good

Pinching the fat of your waist, your thigh

But if you’ve been particularly naughty he’s letting his hand come down on your unattended behind

holding your legs so that your kicking does nothing to thwart him

Granted a punishment is given if you’ve been too busy running around with his other brothers

Or actively participating in the Anti-lucifer League’s schemes

Or taking his brother’s sides when they’re being particularly unbearable

It's the least you can do for him

Reminding you who owns you

“Don’t bother struggling now. Taking your punishment is the least you can do after letting everyone but me keep you close.”

Mammon

“A random butt sticking out of the wall! What do I do? Do I smack it or–”

“Mammon! If you smack me, so help me–”

“Oh- it talks!?”

“Mammon!”

Because he’s Mammon it takes a while before he puts two and two together

But when he finally does

He’s torn between giving into his mischievous side and his immense desire to please you

“Come on, Mammon i just need you to pull me out.”

“Pull…?”

“Yeah grab my waist and pull me out that’s all you have to do.”

“...Your waist….”

“Uhhh Mammon are you okay?”

He’s burning up

He already knew that every part of you was beautiful but now he’s remembered just how beautiful

Even split in half you’re the sexiest in his whole world

Now how can he let up a chance to touch you now

But it's all up to how well you’ve kept him your dog fed

Have you pushed past his fake+ protests to sit with him while he gambled his earnings away

Or wearing the jewelry he bought

Or rewarding him for being the loyal dog that he is

Otherwise, he’ll have to collect your debt with building interest

“Other than your arms…you can’t really stop me from kissin’ ya anyway right?”

Leviathan

“Ahahahaha, this is–ha–just like that one anime! Now you’re helpless Ruri-chan as I steal the magic fauna.”

“Levi! Just get me out, please.”

“And give up a prime lucky-leecher moment? I’m no fool!”

He’s all talk now

Because he can’t see you’re angry face

Only your defenseless rump is perfectly defensive as you exhaustingly kick your legs

You can’t see the insane blush on his face

Or the camera flashes+

“Y-you probably don’t want a disgusting otaku to be your savior, right? So it’s best if I just stay here–”

“Noo…wait Levi…please? Can you be…my hero? A passing adventurer’s side quest…w-will y-you help a fellow adventurer out?”

“Hahaha with a romance benefit and experience points?!”

“...Fine.”

He either wants to chicken out or idly fantasize about your predicament

You have to play his game

Granted you’ll have to take a few liberties giving him a minute or two free range

“Here I come! With a hero’s reward on the line!”

Satan

“Oh my, what have we here?”

One of the worst

He’s most aware of what he could get away with at this moment

And he’s going to play as coy as he likes for as long as he wants

You’re helpless prey and he’s pouncing

“Well well, what is a bodiless butt sticking out of the wall?”

“Please Satan I got stuck and–”

“It’s a shame I have no idea where the mouth is to it but it most certainly has a nice shape.”

“Satan! Please! I know you can hear me! Ah~!”

“Fits so nicely in my hands.”

You’re going to barter

And that’s what he’s counting on

Not only will he be getting to feel you in places

But whatever you have to offer will be wonderful to call for whenever he feels peckish

Or wants to piss Lucifer off

And if you’re not offering anything of value he wins just as much

“Well if I just stick the end of this cattail in here, we can have ourselves a grand old time.”

Asmodeus

“Ahhh~just for me (Y/n)-baby!”

“What!? No! No!”

The absolute worst to find you like this

He can’t be bartered with, fought off, or tricked

He’s going to have you

After all, you’re practically giving yourself to himself

“Awww stop struggling baby~it’ll feel great~!”

“No! Asmo stop! Put back on my–ah~!”

“Seee?! Didn’t I say?!”

Nothing’s stopping him from hammering+ bothering both stuck sides of your person

You’re mild frantic attempts to stop him are simply cute demonstrations of your nervousness

But let him wash it all away

“No worries darling! When we’re done we can have one last sesh in the bath m’kay.”

Beelzebub

“That butt looks a lot like (Yn)’s…”

It is sheer luck that he looks up from whatever he’s eating to notice you

He’ll stand there debating if he wants to get involved

And even when you call out to him

He’s quickly finishing his food before actually coming over

“Beel! Get me out of here!”

“Hmmm?”

“Beel stop eating and get me out!”

“Mmm okay.”

Don’t expect him to let you run off now that he’s holding you by the waist

He remembers how much smaller you are to him

And whens the next time he’s going to be able to take you to him and Belphie’s room before someone runs off with you

“Hey, have you eaten yet?”

Belphegor

“Ah there you are I was looking for you.”

This is going to be quick and easy…

If everything’s alright

If he’s not being moody, stressed out, tired, mildly irritated

You’ll be fine

But if not he’ll have so much pent-up energy there can be only one way to release it

“B-belphie a-are you okay?”

“Oh I will be. So just stay still.”

“Wait hold on-”

“Shhh I’ll be quick.”

He means it

This is just to get started

The beginning of affection is long overdue

‘Why do you have to be with everyone but me!’

‘Just because I’m sleeping it doesn’t mean I don’t want you near’+

“We can continue in bed I’m tired of standing here.”

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agent-8449 · 10 days

Text

The Negatives: Masterpost

"Howdy there, to the audience beyond the screen! I'm your host Eris, and this is Late Nights With Disharmonia..."

The Negatives AU was borne, long long ago, by me fucking around with the ancient joke of Soul 2. Mind 2, Heart 2, Whole 2, etcetera. It evolved into something more sophisticated if light-hearted, and now it's psychological horror. Oops!

Firstly; Eris, this Whole, is American. That's the first part of the joke. The second is that he's supposedly everything a normal golden Whole isn't-- loud, confident, in control. The third part is that he's exactly like a normal Whole in those respects anyway. He might have willed away the loop amnesia, but this cold war he's started with himself might be worse.

Total and godlike control of his own Psyche means nothing if he can't stop himself from splitting anyway. His Thirds know what he does, and they're horrible like him too.

Phobos, the Green Heart, is the distillation of what Eris thinks makes him different to other people; acting and ingenuity, sure, but also a casual disregard for their wellbeings and a violent streak. His impulsive, or intrusive, thoughts.

Deimos, an Orange Mind, is what Eris believes the world wants him to be; a pencil-pushing pushover, dull and boring and content with mundanity. Deimos might be calculative, but that's in the literal sense. He's a calculator, with about as much personality.

Nemesis is where it gets interesting. This Teal Soul isn't needed to pretend to be him at all, not really. He's less so Identity, and more... self-hate. Sure, Eris intended for him to be an embodiment of social pressure/"cringe culture", yet all that's done is make his Soul even more viscerally self-aware of the futility of this all. Nemesis was built to hate. To hate what Eris wants to be-- to be critical, never-pleased, and cynical. By god does Nemesis fulfill these criteria. Because-- well-- what is he supposed to do? Not hate this? This insufferable, useless war? These two tumours Linked to his thoughts? The fact that him hating at all is decreed by Eris, and he's playing his role perfectly? So he hates, quietly. The other two overpower him, and Eris uses him again and again and again for the things he himself doesn't want to do.

What a cheery quartet!!!

The delicate balance of Whole and Thirds was disrupted by their additions to the chat. Entirely sick of <making his Thirds> running Youtube content farms, Eris seeks a way to monetize this supernatural happening. Mixed with his total control of his Psyche <due to being his Psyche>, it's a recipe for something finally interesting. Eris is more of a filmmaker than a songwriter, and to create The Perfect Story is his goal. If only it was that easy. Pretending to be nice and helpful in chat, in order to lure somebody over, did not go very well at all. Neither did exploiting the phenomenon of his self-duplication; the fact that sending constructs from his Psyche is literally sending chunks of his Psyche, i.e., him. If they're in the right shape to walk and talk and think like him, well, they do! Eris clones 3 and 4 both met separate grisly demises.

Why? Long story short, they're filled with assumption goop, and if Reality questions that too hard, it becomes real goop. They melt. This is what happened to 3. 4..... got beheaded. By Nemesis. OOPS! Turns out the breaking of the pattern gave the Whole-adoring Heart and Mind enough grievances for Nemesis to convince them to murder him. And thus ended a doomed attempt at coexistence. The following month unsupervised screwed up Eris' life, too, on his return. Punishment only made them hate him more, and now it's all collapsing...

Now, desperation makes men do terrible things.

This is all a very quick summary of the Negatives, of course. Feel free to ask for clarifications! I might even respond in-character... Toodles for now!

#negatives au #my art #cccc #chonny jash #cjverse chatroom

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l0serloki · 1 year

Text

Showtime

JPM x Reader

Summary : You and Liz brainstorm how to spice things up in the bedroom with your husband.. It is a definite success.

CW : SMUT, fem!reader, reader calls james ‘mr.march’, spanking, choking, praise kink, pet names (queen/doll/dear/good girl), biting & marking, rough sex, creampie

A/N : this might not be great but I was rewatching hotel and his cane gave me ideas...

It had been quite a while since you and Liz had a talk. You settled down to gossip with your close friend.

“Y/N, it’s been a while. I thought you would have forgotten about me.” Liz smirked.

“How could I ever! I’ve just been so busy with James and the new.. arrivals. Devil’s Night was such a chore.” You droned on, complaining about how much screaming there was over the course of the night.

“Well that’s to be expected. How are you and James anyways?”

How were you and James? You were fine, splendid actually, but something seemed off. You had thought about it quite a lot this week, coming to the conclusion you needed something to spice up your sex life.

“Good! I just.. I don’t know.” You shrugged and Liz gave you the side eye, setting her book on the counter.

“You don’t know? Darling, are you alright?”

You nodded as she took your hands, giving them a tight squeeze.

“Yes! Don’t worry! I just want to.. spice things up with him. I feel as though he will get bored of me. I want to get something nice for him but I can’t think of what.”

Liz tapped her lips with a pen, her eyes raising as she thought of an idea.

“Y/N, have you ever worn any fancy lingerie for him? Maybe put on a little show?”

Your mind sparked with the idea and you shook your head.

“No! Where would I even get that? That would be perfect.”

Liz waved you away from the kiosk, already getting to planning.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get you a nice set to surprise your dear Mr.March.”

—

Liz had done exactly what she promised, going out and buying quite a lovely lingerie set for you. It framed your body perfectly, only adding to your confidence. You slipped your casual clothes over the garments, making your way down the hall. You knew James would be busy with his plans for next year's event.

Your fingers curled around the doorknob, opening it to meet your husbands face. You jumped at the proximity, not expecting him to be so close.

“My dear! I was just coming to fetch you.” His smooth accent sailed through the air, sending currents down your spine. Your finger trailed at his suit hoping to give him the same reaction.

“Were you? Guess I have good timing then.. Mr.March.” You trailed around his form, hands feeling up the taut muscles. His body shook with excitement from the teases, hands coming to clamp down on your wrists.

“Yes.. It seems you were longing for me as much as I was for you.” His suave smirk made heat pool in your stomach, hands starting to roam your shirt. Your breath quickened as his fingers trailed under the the material. His eyes widened when he pawed at the lace that was hidden.

“My my.. What is it that my dear doll has on?” He frisked away at your shirt, abandoning it on the floor without a care. His chestnut hues wracked in the sight of your ample flesh dawned with the silky lace. His wild smile only added to your carnal desire, making you tremble with pleasure.

“You like it? It’s all for you, Mr.March.”

His deep hum filled the silence.

“I do, dear. This is quite the surprise. Step out of those pants and bend over so I can see the whole thing.” His voice was dark and filled with lust. You knew exactly where this was headed.

You followed instructions, popping your ass out so he could get the full view of your body. You felt as if you were on fire. His eyes followed your every curve, searing it into his memory. His rough hand gripped at his cane, holding back at what he wanted.

“You’ve given me such a good present, my pretty girl. I can’t believe you would hide this from me. I think you deserve a punishment, no?”

You could only moan in response, desperate for any kind of touch he could give you. He seemed to like your response, shoveling you against the desk. Your perky ass was still stuck out for him, waiting for his move. You waited for what felt like forever until a long smack hit. Your breath left your mouth as you shook, your ass cheeks swelling against the wood. The metal tip of his cane brushed at your entrance, prodding at the wet spot on your panties.

“Someone enjoys being spanked with a cane? What a naughty girl..” James laughed, your squirming not going unnoticed. His hand smacked against your sore cheek and you bounced at the contact.

“Be good and take a few more. Then we can get to the fun part.”

You nodded as he continued his assault on your ass, tears welling in your eyes at the pain and pleasure. Your body was practically screaming for him, arousal pooling on your thighs.

His cane hit for the last time and then he was everywhere at once. His greedy hands yanked at your ruined panties, revealing your poor pussy.

“God. I need you!” You moaned out as his fingers teased across your thighs, coming dangerously close to your entrance. His thumb pressed against your slick, making a mess of you. He toyed your clit, rubbing at it a few times before puling away. You groaned at the loss of contact, turning to see why he had stopped. James fumbled with his belt, hands jittering with energy. He gave you a grin, lips licking at the arousal on his finger,

“My queen, you’ve been so obedient tonight.. I shall give you what you wish.”

James’ cock rubbed against your folds, slowly pushing in. It felt as if everything else faded as he bottomed out, his calloused hands coming to grip at your neck. His thrusts gained pace as your moans got louder, alerting anyone near his room of what you were up to.

He was animalistic. Lips biting and marking at your skin, smacks blown across any flesh he could reach. His other hand choked you out, watching from the side as your eyes grew larger.

You felt your air leaving as his pace went erratic, the string inside you so close to snapping.

“I-I’m gonna cum. So close, baby.” You strangled out.

James snarled, his hands rough enough to leave marks for the next few days. His cock twitched inside of you, egging you on.

“Cum. Cum for me, darling.” He goaded and you did as told, eyes rolling back at the euphoria he gave. His ruts finally stopped and thick ribbons of white filled you.

You spun around and snorted at your husbands tired face. He leaned in to kiss the top of your nose, hands pulling you into an embrace.

“That was a night to remember, dear. We should do this more often.”

#james march #james patrick march #james march smut #james patrick march smut #james march x reader #james march imagine #james patrick march imagine #james patrick march x reader #james march x you #ahs hotel #ahs #american horror story #ahs imagine #evan peters #evan peters smut #evan peters imagine #jpm x reader #jpm imagines #jpm x reader smut

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weird-an · 1 year

Text

Mrs. Richardson is one of these teachers that stare at Billy with a thoughtful look and ask him to stay after class to talk about his potential.

Billy brings home straight As, because failure gets punished with a belt and a tirade of insults Billy sometimes dreams about. Mrs. Richardson already sees him at an Ivy League school, ignoring how he owns like four shirts and fixed her husband's car at the garage just last week.

"What do you wanna do when you're 30?" She asks him. "If you could do anything with your life?"

Billy blinks. He doesn't think, he'll make it to 30. But he can't tell her that or she'll dig deeper and who knows what sad excuse of a town Neil finds - that might be worse than Hawkins.

"An apartment and a job that pays enough." is what he settles for.

She frowns at him. "What kind of job?"

"Whatever." Billy shrugs and he knows he should make up a stupid lie about how he's interested in tech or whatever shit, but he can't. He turns fucking 18 tomorrow and he won't get out of here, because Neil takes his paycheck whenever Billy gets it.

"I like working at the garage," he offers carefully.

She sighs. "I think you could go to college."

She hands him a bunch of flyers Billy throw away at home and starts a whole monologue about scholarships for kids that aren't well off. Billy chews on his bubble gum and pretends to listen while wondering if he should hide his next paycheck in a can of pringles.

After a few minutes, he's dismissed with a "Think about it! You're a really good student."

Harrington leans against the lockers, obviously waiting for him and stares at him with his big brown eyes reminding Billy of toffee. Billy isn't in the mood to fool around today. But he's kinda scared that Harrington will lose interest as soon as a busty girl hits on him, so he can't really afford to leave it be. Billy gives him a tiny nod. Their ... well, not so secret sign, but no one is around to see it anyways.

They drive to the quarry separately, like they always do when Harrington's parents are at home and they have to swap his waterbed against the backseat of their cars.

Billy is faster. Because Harrington is a pussy and sticks to the speed limit. Billy's halfway through his cigarette when Harrington slides on the passenger's seat next to him.

"What did Mrs. Richardson want from you?" He sounds genuinely interested. Harrington is good in getting what he wants. Tells Billy he's hot and good in bed to keep him in mood. Gives compliments without sounding dishonest. Billy eats it all up. Sweetener that tastes like sugar.

"She asked me what I wanna do when I'm 30." Billy watches the faint orange glint of his dying cigarette.

"And what do you want?" Harrington's gaze presses Billy a bit harder down in his seat.

Billy opens his mouth to tell Harrington the same stuff he told her, but instead he hears himself say "To not be dead and maybe even fucking happy."

Well. There goes the chance of getting fucked until he forgets about birthdays of any kind.

Harrington's hand is a bit cold against his own. His thumb presses against Billy's wrist.

"I'll never get out of here," Billy chokes out and the ash from his cig falls on his jeans. "He's... he's going to fucking kill me."

It's so overwhelming. It's like the end is already written and no matter what book Billy grabs, it's always the same shit on the pages.

One day Neil will get too drunk and Billy will die. One day Neil will get his gun and Billy will die. One day Neil won't do anything and Billy will die.

Billy doesn't want to die. He wants to fucking live and he can't. Not here in fucking Indiana.

"I'm moving out," Harrington says slowly. "Next month."

Billy blinks the tears away and wonders what the fuck Harrington is talking about.

"There's only one bed...," Harrington's voice is unsure, like he's afraid of... Billy's answer? "You would be welcome any time."

Billy stares at Steve and sees the same tears Billy tries not to cry in his eyes. What the fuck is Harrington on about?

"I want you to be fucking happy, too." Steve rubs his nose. "I... could get a second key."

"What about ... if you're like... hanging out with a chick?" Billy asks, surprised that he only sounds half as strangled as he feels.

Steve laughs wetly. "You're the only one I'm seeing."

Billy flicks the cigarette out of the window. He's only doing what all his instincts tell him to do. He cups Steve's face and his heart beats way too fast.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Harrington." He wouldn't survive that. To be offered a… way out and its all turning out to be a joke.

"It's Steve," Steve corrects and buries his hand in Billy's hair.

He isn't sure who is kissing who first, but they are kissing and crying and sobbing all at once.

"So will you come over?" Steve asks, a bit breathless.

"Until you kick me out," Billy says.

Maybe Billy will turn 30. Maybe he's got a real chance - a chance that walked into his life dressed like a preppy asshole, but Billy never had a good taste in men.

@harringroveweek

#harringrove #oh and the pringles one oops #prompt: 30 years old - but I twisted it brutally #harringroveweek #billy x steve #harringrove ficlet #tw child abuse

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faghubby · 2 months

Text

Oh Husband

"Husband, why don't you kneel down here and make me cum" Dana smiled. I looked around quickly. She was sitting in one of the patio chairs drinking a glass of wine as I was picking weeds out of the flower beds.

"Dana?!" I said quietly with a stunned look.

"What? You know you want to. Must little chastity bitch" Dana replied. She spread her legs. Pulling up her dress she wore no panties. I kneeled on the stone patio and buried my face between her thighs. As I liked and sucked her pussy.

"Do you hope Bob peeks over the fence and sees you?" Dana teased. I felt the cage get even tighter as my dick tried to get hard but had no room to grow.

"Paul you would like everyone to know what a beta husband you are wouldn't you?" Dana continued. She played with my hair that she had made me grow out as I pleased her. I made her cum. I always made her cum with my tounge. As she did she just pushed me back and fixed her dress. She made a hand motion as if dismissing me. I went back to finish the flowers. Her juices all over my face.

Dana got up and walked over to me. She bent down and grabbed my ass.

"It would be so hot if you wore your little thong bikini while you worked in the yard. Get those tan lines even darker" Dana teased then went inside. I knew she was teasing. She had me go to a tanning salon once a week. She loved my femine tan lines. She wanted anyone who might see me without a shirt to know what a bitch I was.

It had been 7 years ago when she had learned what kind of man I really was. It had started innocent enough. Dana was being adventurous and while she was sucking my dick worked a finger in my ass. I went wild.

I begged her to do it again and then again. This led to inserting a toy in my ass. Then fucking me with a strapon. All within a few months time. This led to a discussion of a threesome. Another man. I was reluctant but agreed. We chose a stranger. After a search on fetish dating sites. Dana found someone. We chatted a few times and finally decided it was time and invited him to the house. We where both nervous. His name was Greg.

Greg took control as soon as he entered. He had Dana naked and bent over before either of us had time to question. He ordered me to strip. As he fucked Dana. Not have sex or make love he fucked her. His hand around her throat his thick 7 inch cock smashing into her at an amazing pace. He stopped at one point and made Dana suck his cock. Tasting her own juices. Before he went back to fucking her. He totally ignored me I didn't know what to do so u stood and watched. As he pumped his seed into her.

"Come clean my cock" he ordered me. I was still in awe and did what he said without hesitation.

"You faggot husband just needs a firm hand" he told Dana. He pushed me away.

"Clean your wife Bitch" he ordered me. Dana spread her legs and seemed even more excited as she watched me clean another man's cum from her well fucked pussy.

We talked at length about what had happened and what we both wanted. We both agreed to explore this more. Dana is one of those people who research everything. And she did that very thing. She soon learned about cuckolding, chastity, FLM, sissy, punishment and a whole lot more. We talked and experimented alot. Now we have three kids so somethings where just not possible but Dana found ways.

Like if she called me husband it was an order. And I was to call her princess when we played. She locked me in chastity pretty fast. Since I had a small penis anyway. I enjoyed it. Well kinda. I enjoyed having to ask to touch myself. I enjoyed Dana being in control of me. Dana also started dating. Telling most people that she was cheating on me.

We told the kids mom had gone back to school to further her education. The kids ranged from 11 to 16. So it was a good way for them not to question, mom's night classes or late study groups. Also since mom was back in school Dad picking up the slack around the house doing more chores. The further she pushed the more I wanted. So when she had me shave, and start wearing panties I didn't argue. She would keep me locked for months at a time. And peg my ass once a week. While she told me about her lovers and what they did to her. She would sometimes show me videos. I understood when I watched. I had never even tried to fuck her lime they did. Most where rough using her.

"Non of them have such a gentle tounge like yours though" Dana told me. The kids now grown or away at school Dana became more open about things. She had confessed to her two best friends a few years ago. But now she didn't mind if others found out.

She took me panty shopping, instead of buying them online. Even telling the sales girl they where for me. She would take me to dinner and order for me. Telling the waiter that I couldn't be trusted to stay on my diet. She openly flirted with people in front of me. Including several of our friends.

She even took me to a gay bar and had me suck the bartenders cock. On the drive ho,e she told me she would never let me inside her again after watching what I had done.

But now rumors got back to the kids. And we are having a family meeting tonight. I know Dana is going to tell them the truth. I just am scared of how they will react.

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love-toxin · 1 year

Note

ooohh!! could you do smut alphabet with dilf!eddie? maybe,,, even perv!dilf!eddie? <333

sure! <33

pervy dilf!eddie munson (a-z)

(cws: age gap (20s-40s), perv!dilf!eddie, lots of kinks including somnophilia, cnc, bondage, daddy kink, alcohol, spanking, etc, just general filth.)

A = Aftercare

Loves loves loves it. It's not a chore for him, and he's never too tired for it--aftercare is just another way for him to care for and dote on his lovely little angel. He usually starts by wiping you off with a cloth or his shirt to keep you from getting too sticky, and then he lifts you up and takes you to the bathroom to really wash you down. He takes such great care of you, he's so gentle as he cleans his cum out of you and smoothes over any bruises or aching bites he left in your skin, and he gives each one a kiss before the water runs cold and he towels you off before bringing you back to lay you down on warm, clean sheets.

B = Bondage

It's always been a special interest of his, hence the cuffs he always seems to have within reach. He likes to bind your wrists most often just to keep your hands from hiding yourself when he strips you down, but sometimes he'll get a little more intense with some of the stuff he's learned and he'll strap a spreader bar to your ankles, making it just wide enough that he can squeeze between your legs and go absolutely wild on you as much as he likes.

C = Cum

Whereas it was a bit thinner and stringier when he was in his prime, now it's thick and it comes out in these huge globs that just leave a dripping, creamy varnish over whatever it lands on. If he knows you have to go somewhere, he might shoot off a load in your underwear before you get dressed just so he can enjoy the shock on your face when you slide them on. Even better if you get embarrassed but you wear them to work anyways just so you can feel him down there all day.

D = Dirty Secret

He likes it when you call him daddy. He can't help it, you're young and cute and he likes taking care of you, and you just make him feel so warm inside when you beg daddy for something special with those big, bright eyes. If you let him run with it though, he might get to the point that he encourages you to call him that out in public, even if it's just a whisper in his ear as you ask daddy if he can take you to the bathroom while you're out to dinner with your friends. You can't focus so well with his fingers inside you under the table, not when you need to cum so bad you're willing to let your older boyfriend plow you in the bathroom stall of a shitty little diner.

E = Experience

Lots of experience, clearly. He's older than you but he's also still got that charm that people tend to appreciate more as they mature--and he's fucked plenty of passionate groupies on the few small tours he's done with the band, but it's all behind him when he's with you. You're the only fan he could ever want in his bed.

F = Favourite Position

Doggy for sure. He loves getting to the point where you're so shaky and incoherent from cumming that you just fall all the way forward, your face buried in the sheets while he gets that extra bit of leverage and just lays into you hard. That's also when he's the loudest and most vocal about how good it feels inside you and when you have neighbors banging on your door for you to shut the fuck up.

G = Gloat

He can be mean if he wants to be, his method of choice is spanking if he decides you haven't been as well-behaved as he would've liked you to be. And he mocks you for it the whole time, talks over those loud thwacks of his rings coming down on your ass with "You're so fucking wet/hard, you like getting punished, huh? Want daddy to make it hurt more? Beg a little more for me sweetheart, you're taking it so well so far, daddy's gonna make you cum if you take three more for me. Promise."

H = Hair

Lots of curly, untamed bush that he barely trims because he both forgets and doesn't care (change my mind? you simply can't <3) he likes being a little hairy cause it's even hotter when you work that pretty mouth around him.

I = Intoxication

He doesn't get drunk drunk too often, but when he does all doors are opened. Not only is he absolutely fine with having sex when you're both wasted (even though he abstains when you're the only drunk one), but he actively encourages you to fuck him when you're sober and he's not. Hearing you say you don't want to take advantage of him is just so cute--you couldn't, you seriously couldn't. Because he knows how filthy he is for wanting to have some blurred half-memory of you bouncing on his cock and making fun of him for getting hard while he's too trashed to speak, and he's so willing to indulge that fantasy because it turns him on so much he can't help but hope it comes true.

J = Jack off

Even with your active sex life, Eddie jerks it a good amount. Usually when you're gone, or when he's at work and can't settle down, and he whips out the little card holder full of polaroids he's taken of you so he can pick one and bust a load all over the glossy finish. He likes it tight, rough, and fast, he doesn't waste time when he's not with you and he usually has to be quick before he gets caught doing it.

K = Kiss

Obviously kisses everywhere, all the time, he's a kiss-stealing fiend! But kissing your neck is a little different. He kisses you there purely for the adrenaline of feeling you tense up as you anticipate a bite right into your throat--just like he likes to do as he fucks you, right before he makes you cum.

L = Lazy

If he's feeling a little too worn out to jump into something intense, he likes a little cockwarming while you sit on the couch together. Loves feeling that sweet hole squeeze and clench around him when he moves to get comfy, or if you're watching something scary and a killer jumps at the screen for you to yelp and cling to him. More often than not he slowly starts humping you the more you lay there, and the more you start whining and moving back on him to meet those short thrusts, the more likely it is that he'll feel a surge of energy and throw you back against the cushions to just pound away until he bloats you full with a thick creampie he's got all saved up.

M = Marking

100% tries to make your hickies spell out his name, or at least a big "E" or an "M" that he can snap a polaroid of for later. If he can't make it work he settles for a ring of bruises around your throat just high enough to be nearly impossible to cover up, just how he likes it to be.

N = CNC

It's not a need but it's fun if you're cool with trying it out. He likes playing out a scene where he gives you a ride in his van to get you somewhere but starts rubbing your thigh while he drives, making comments here and there that slowly get lewder and lewder. And when you try to tug on the door handle when you know it's locked, he pulls off and parks somewhere secluded so he can push you into the back and force your tight little holes open for his cock to ruin. That's a good outlet for some mockery too, for him to tease you about knowing he'd wanna fuck you looking like that, and murmuring into your ear that "You like fucking an older man, huh sweetheart? Did you wait around just hoping I'd pick you up and slut you out? Sh, sh, stay quiet, sweetie--don't want the cops ruining our fun, right? Not gonna let em take away my new fucktoy before I break you in."

O = Oral

Clearly he likes getting his cock sucked, but he likes giving you head even more. Loves spreading you out and seeing how warm and tight you are as he pushes a finger in, testing how much you can take before he starts helping you along with his tongue. As much as he likes the control of having you on your back while he does it, he comes apart a lot faster when you sit yourself on his face instead--he loves the cum dripping down his chin and the way you just totally smother him with your heat and your scent, it drives him crazy and if you turn it into a 69 position Eddie literally won't stop licking you to orgasm until you wrench your lower half off him yourself. He's just insatiable.

P = Panties

Total panty thief, but not in the traditional sense. He steals panties off of you more than anything; when you get home from work or being out and about, he'll be waiting patiently to hold out his hand with a "panties, please" and a grin, until you pull them down your legs and hand them over for Eddie to get a deep whiff of. Call him a pervert for it, and you'll be right--but you'll also be getting them bundled up and shoved in your mouth as he bends you back and fucks that 'tude right out of you.

Q = Quickie

He's definitely a fan, they happen most often when you come visit him at the record shop to help out. He owns it after all, so nobody's gonna fire him for getting caught--and in those off hours when he barely has anybody coming in and he kills time by re-winding the cassettes, it's the perfect opportunity for him to pull you into the back and plow you over the repair counter when you come to bring your boyfriend his well-deserved lunch.

R = Risk

Despite insisting that he's probably too old to crank one out anyways, Eddie's so risky when it comes to protection. Slipping his bare cock in and cumming inside you raw is his specialty, and it's much like a drug--once you do it once, it's hard to stop. Pair that with the fact that Eddie's dirty talk often slips into the thought of breeding you, and you've got a recipe for some little curly-haired gremlins running around if you're not careful.

S = Spit

Generally he likes to keep any spitting for when he's lubing himself up or getting you wet for him to finger you, but sometimes when he's in a more dominant mood he likes spitting on your face when you give him lip. It makes you look so much filthier when you're pinned underneath him, or he's also known for spitting in his hand and wiping it on the tip of his dick before he demands that you lick it off. And you both know it's just gonna end up with him pressing on the back of your head until he's nestled all snug and deep in your throat, but you do it anyways and Eddie loves how obedient you are when you do.

T = Toys

Definitely not afraid to use them, although he's not so familiar and needs some guidance on how to use them. He's a quick learner though and good with his hands, so he'll thoroughly enjoy getting plenty of reactions out of you when he holds a vibrator to your nipples as he fucks you, or pumps a dildo just a touch bigger than his own size inside you while you drool around his cock that he's rammed down your throat.

U = Unfair

He's a total tease, but he's not totally unfair--he likes it both ways, when he's teasing you and when you're teasing him. He's kind of a switch so he likes moving the power from one of you to the other, and if you start teasing him while you're working him up or grinding on his lap Eddie will just melt and fall apart in your hands for you to do whatever you want with him.

V = Volume

Most of the time he can stay relatively quiet, but when he's loud he's loud. And he likes being loud, especially if he wants to piss someone off that he thinks is getting a little too friendly with you. Or when his neighbors are arguing too loud or cranking up their tv to max in the next trailer over, then it's volume purely out of spite.

W = Wildcard

He doesn't know he's into ball worship but he absolutely is. Whenever you put your tongue on his balls or pull them into your mouth, it's game over--you can get pretty much whatever you want just by sucking on his sack, and if you wanna make him cum, you could do so without even touching his cock. And he doesn't realize just how sensitive they are, but he does know that he loves it when you play with them and he could watch you push your face between his legs all damn day.

X = X-Ray

Thick, heavy, got a nice curve and big veins that pop out and feel so nice and ridged when he rubs his shaft against your thigh or your belly. Plus his balls just weigh him down so heavy when he hasn't cum in a while, he's sensitive there so he's bound to moan a touch too loud when you fondle them in your warm palms.

Y = Yearning

There's few things that turn him on as much as feeling that you want him just as much as he wants you. He knows he's dirty and kinda gross and that people probably look at you strangely for your age difference, but when you want to kiss him or cuddle or you cling to him like you're just gonna die if he doesn't touch you, it lights something inside him that just wants to keep you under his arm and call you his forever.

Z = Zzz

As long as you give him the go-ahead beforehand, he's a menace for getting on top of you while you're sleeping. Often he'll just go right ahead and fuck a load so deep inside you that it's still leaking out when you wake up, but sometimes he likes to edge by humping your sleeping body through his boxers and leaving a dark, wet stain on your underwear when he makes such a mess it leaks right through the fabric.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #perv!eddie munson #dilf!eddie munson #eddie's angelface #spicy writing #smut alphabet #st 4 #stranger things #ellie writes #anons

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