#needles eye tunnel
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Needles Eye Tunnel, South Dakota, 1935
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The Needles of the Black Hills of South Dakota are a region of eroded granite pillars, towers, and spires within Custer State Park. Popular with rock climbers and tourists alike, the Needles are accessed from the Needles Highway, which is a part of Sylvan Lake Road (SD 87/89). The Cathedral Spires and Limber Pine Natural Area, a 637-acre portion of the Needles containing six ridges of pillars as well as a disjunct stand of limber pine, was designated a National Natural Landmark in 1976. -- Wikipedia
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Feel free to ignore you've probably got a lot going on right now, but considering you know a lot about DOTC and Clear sky, I had a question...
We know that he's a terrible, misogynistic, woman beating and war mongering lunatic who was excused of all his actions because his equally misogynistic brother said " But-But he's nice! Deep down! This isn't the real him! "
But! In a world where the Hunters could write such a character, what do you think Clear Sky would look like as an actual sympathetic villain?
Idk if that makes sense, but what I've thought of doing is taking purely cannon Clear Sky and attempting to change him enough that he's still an antagonist, but not too far where only Reddit defends him.
I don't think he works as a sympathetic villain, on any level, ever. I think you're making a huge mistake to even try, and I have never seen an AU where it was done well nor am I interested in entertaining the thought.
Characters. Are. Tools. They exist to tell a story. The story that people tell me, by obsessing over some alternate universe where he was "ACTUALLY sympathetic and had a REAL redemption arc," is that they're not fucking interested in his dozens of victims. Nor do they actually care about the abusive impact he had on the minds and feelings of his family. They're JUST interested in Clear Sky himself.
Just like the Erins. Everything that happens in DOTC revolves around him. Everything. All his wives die so he can be sad about it. His brother defends all of his actions and BEGS you to sympathize with his pain so he can be 'redeemable.' One Eye comes out of nowhere so that there can be an example of "real" evil to contrast Clear Sky so he's less bad in hindsight.
The first three books of DOTC are bad, but the last three are fucking insufferable because SUDDENLY all that Gray Wing apologia pays off, and they take their main villain and throw him out a window. You CAN'T have "redeemable" Clear Sky and the plot of DOTC without dragging in someone else to drive the conflict, to BE the bigger threat to "unite" against. Slash and One Eye have to be conjured up out of thin air so Clear Sky can WHINE about how people only suck his toes instead of deepthroat them after he killed all their friends.
And yet, in spite of this absolute failure of an attempt, we continue to see this bullshit "redemption" be a mistake because Clear Sky is a fantastic villain, with major antagonist roles in nearly EVERY bit of follow-up material for DOTC that came after.
He's the most consistent monster in all of Warriors.
He's a fragile, egotistical, self-absorbed megalomaniac who ALWAYS sees himself as the victim, REFUSING to self-reflect and blaming everything else for all of his terrible choices. He will USE your love of him against you like it's a chain through your nose, step out of line and he will yank you into place with guilt trips, manipulation, public shaming, and violence.
He's a child abuser. He's a tyrant. He abandons the sick and disabled as soon as they're of no use to him, with grand speeches about "illness" and "weakness." He's a murderer who stands above the shredded corpse of his victim and bellows, "I'M NOT GREEDY! I'M JUST STRONG!"
And you'd write a "good" redemption arc for this, why?
Why are people so chronically unable to accept that there are LOTS of people like him, and you can't save your abuser? Why don't you ask yourselves why you're not interested in exploring Thunder, or Petal, or Gray Wing, and how his toxic influence impacts them? Why does the sympathy fall on Clear Sky? What about the DOZENS of victims who are dead by Book 3, and how THEY could have been saved?
Why ruin a perfectly good villain?
What's behind this trend where a billion people say to me, "Yes Clear Sky is a walking cavalcade of fucked up abuse apologia, and an incredibly realistic depiction of an abuser, but how would you change this while keeping it all the same?"
I wouldn't. You can't. It wouldn't be the same story, or it wouldn't be the same character. Never seen it done well, and I have seen it a lot. So I don't entertain this deeply frustrating "Well What If Clear Sky But Nice" impulse.
#The closest I'll ever get to that is Fallenleaf. And she lost it all#And spent years in the time-out tunnel#BAD KITTIES GO IN THE PEAR WIGGLER TO BE SUFFICIENTLY WIGGLED.#I don't think people in power typically change. If they do it's so rare it's not worth entertaining. Camel through the eye of a needle shit#and I mean ALL powers. this goes for abusive relationships too. I think they need to lose that power before they change.#When you have power. REAL power. You can fill those holes with it. You can force people to not leave.#so im actively hostile to stories that winge and cry about giving powerful people endless sympathy and chances#You've already shown me what you want to do with your power and as long as you keep it you haven't seen your consequences.#Power reveals.#It doesn't corrupt. It reveals.#DOTC hate#clear sky's redemption arc#If you're in an abusive relationship or under a terrible boss or in some other bad environment. You won't fix it.#You are not responsible for fixing it.#You can't fix it.#And they will not change. so GET OUTTA THERE#And that's who he functions best as. To me.#He's the bastard you need to escape.#And that's infinitely more compelling to me than Nice Clear Sky Attempt 32324#I don't write stories that beg you to sympathize with tyrants and keep your heart open to some maybe-change on the horizon#I write stories where they ruin everything they touch and have to be forcefully yanked out of power before they hurt more people.#And also screw every related take that's like 'ohhh after 5000 years of having his toes sucked he regrets it a bit :('#no he fucking wouldn't. he had his toes sucked for 5000 years. He's vindicated by how fondly he's remembered.#You can't fucking tell me that he doesnt REVEL in how violent the culture became. That him being offended about the clan's exile-#--was anything but him being offended his namesake was going away. That he wouldn't parade around like every choice he ever made was right.#''I made some vague mistakes which I will never name. BUT Im never wrong and always did it my way even if it was hard''#If you haven't met a person like that I envy you.#bone babble#Nothing makes me mad quite like this character#Again I yell about his brother a lot because he's widely loved by the fandom
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"Only for you, darlin'"
Summary: Cooper heads into town in search for some RadAway for you when he stumbles upon a cute gift (Cooper Howard x fem!reader).
Word count: 1.0K
Warnings: needles, kissing (slightly ig)
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Stalking through the desert, he heads towards the town in search of some RadAway for you, the radiation reaching too high of a level for Cooper to be comfortable with, especially in his presence.
His boots echo through the makeshift tunnel made of old tubing before sunlight peaks out of the other end, exposing the market on the other side, countless signs decorating the stalls. He pulls his hat down slightly in order to cover his irradiated face more, less because some people find it unsettling and more so people don’t recognise he’s a ghoul.
He walks along the stalls, searching for any RadAway and some other supplies that need topping up.
Signs stick out to him yet none offer what he needs until he reaches a store with various niche medical supplies as well as bandages and the like. Walking up to the store, he looks over the small bottles and pills decorating the side but doesn't see anything Stimpaks or RadAway.
“Ay,” He gets the attention of the store owner. “You got any RadAway?” He asks, looking up at the man covered in shredded clothes. He shakes his head before looking down at what looks like an old graphic novel. “You sure? I got plenty of caps.”
“How many?” He asks, accent showing he’s not from around here.
“Plenty.” He reinterrates, shaking his bag causing the rattling of the caps and the man puts the graphic novel down, heading further into the shop before returning with a pouch of liquid with a strip of duct tape on, scraggly writing on it.
“I keep it in the back, people nick this stuff the most. 50 caps.”
Cooper scoffs. “50?” He asks, confusion mixed with annoyance in his voice. “30.”
“45.” He counters. “And I’ll throw in a Stimpak.”
“Fine” Cooper counters and the seller sighs before pushing it towards him whilst Copper pushes the caps on the side. “And you got the good deal there, you should feel lucky I’m willing to pay for this.” He snatches it from the side, rolling his eyes before moving on to finding other items but glad he’s got what he came for.
Strolling through the town, he looks in the store windows, something catching his eye in a junk store. He pushes open the door, a bell ringing making him wonder if it’s a trap but why would there be a trap when someone is trying to sell junk?
“Hey darlin’, feel free to take a look around.” An old woman says, crazy hair covering most of her face making him feel uneasy that he can barely see her eyes. He nods before heading towards the window display, boots hitting the wooden planks underfoot noisily as they creak.
A toy rabbit sits in the window, no more than a foot tall with fluffy ears and a cute nose. He swipes at it, examining it and dusting it off before looking for some sort of price label.
“How much for this?” He turns to face the woman who pushes her glasses up, scrunching her nose as she squints at the item.
“8 caps, but for you 4. Who’s this for?” He pulls out another five caps and drops them on the table before carefully putting the bunny in his bag, making sure it’s tucked in and the clasp is shut properly. He pulls on the latch, checking its security. Secure.
“My girl, she loves bunnies. Thanks.” He grumbles, walking out the store and off to the base again.
He walks back through the desert, kicking the sand as he goes, mumbling to himself and even whistling slightly. He lifts his hand to keep the sun out of his face as the base appears in his field of vision. Base is a strong word for a couple of broken down buildings just by the trees that are more secure than you would think. It provides cover and hides flames when it gets cold.
He can’t help the edges of his lips quirking up at the sight of the base and his girl.
Under an hour later, he returns to the base, stepping through the ‘door’. “Sweetheart?” He yells through the base.
“Cooper, that you?” You ask, sweet voice ringing through the walls.
“‘Course it’s me.” He grins to himself, following your voice.
“I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me come with you.” You say before being interrupted by a cough. After moments of coughing, Cooper rubs your back and once you start speaking, he reaches into his bag.
“Did you get a Stim-” You start but he passes it to you with a brief kiss to the cheek. “Thanks.” You smile before looking down at the Stimpak wrapped in a cloth. Taking it out, your eyes are immediately on the needle, you take a pause and deep breath before injecting it into your thigh.
Letting out a breath, you drop the used Stimpak and look back to Cooper who wears a smirk, holding back a laugh.
“What are you laughing about?” You cock an eyebrow.
“You ain’t scared of no mutants, no raiders, nothing but needles.” He chuckles, his accent prominent. “It’s cute.” He says before remembering the bunny toy in his bag. “I got you something in town.” He says, rootling through his bag.
“More RadAway?” You ask, knowing his paranoia about you getting too much radiation when being around him.
“Yeah, but I got you something else too.” He pulls the bunny out of his bag. “Now I know it ain’t much, but I saw it and thought you’d like it…” He presents the bunny, quickly brushing off some of the sand from the journey.
“Aww.” You can help but coo at the cute bunny, taking it off of him and holding it gently, picking up one of the ears and letting it flop back down. “You didn’t spend too much on it, did you?” You look back over to him.
“Y’know it’s rude to ask about someone’s finances, sweetheart.” He teases. “Besides, the lady gave it to me for cheap, probably knew I was getting it for my girl.”
“Probably knew you were a softie.” You tease.
“Only for you, darlin’.” He picks up your hand and leans down, kissing it playfully.
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AN: I can't believe I haven't posted anything for over three months… sorry I've had exams and extra and it's just been stressful so hopefully I can get a bit more on track.
I hope you enjoyed reading!
#fanfic#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x yn#cooper howard fanfiction#cooper howard x y/n#fanfiction#fluff#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul x y/n#the ghoul x yn#the ghoul x you#fallout#the ghoul fanfiction#the ghoul fanfic#fallout x reader#fallout x y/n#fallout x yn#fallout x you#cooper howard#cooper howard x you#cooper howard fanfic
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vampires gotta drink blood to survive but prion disease is still a risk. their bodies and minds may be immortal, but not immutable. you encounter a vampire estimated to be fourteen hundred years old, and there's just...so little left of them.
they live in abandoned sheds, dusty attics, dilapidated sewer tunnels, anywhere that won't expose them directly to the sunlight. peering out from the shadows you can see the gaunt face filled with needle-like fangs, and those hollow, twitching eyes searching your features, trying to determine if you are Prey or Not Prey. the only thing they can still recognize. technically they're still alive, yes, but the person they once were died a slow, painful death trapped in that skull.
it takes your balance first, makes your gait unsteady and erratic. then comes the emotional instability, the sudden fits of laughter as common as the bursts of anger. then come the tremors, a constant uneven rumbling that you can feel even now as the ancient vampire rattles the floorboards in the other room. you've seen an old one hunt before. there's no grace to it, no deadly efficiency, it's a frantic, messy affair, all flailing, crawling limbs and gnashing teeth.
when you were turned, you were excited to live forever young and beautiful and sexy and mysterious but in this moment, staring at the withered hand slithering out from the darkness behind the cracked doorway, you remember why they call it a curse
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Storm's End 2
HOTD Masterlist
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Strong!Reader
Summary: your mother sends you to Storm’s End to rally Lord Borros Baratheon for your side, but your uncle arrived there before you
Warnings: Cursing, use of the word bastard, angst, heavy, canon level incest, thoughts about dying, mentions of bedding, and more, dark fic, Aemond is unhinged, rape, non-con, minors engaging in sexual activities, mentions of a minor in a pleasure house, maiming, blood, violence, victim blaming, self blame, and other very dark things.
+18 MINORS DNI
Wordcount: 4,7 k
Notes: Ufff It seems I can’t do one shots anymore, I think this required another third part because I didn’t want to make it so long.
They say that when you are dying, all your life passes right through your eyes, making you relive all those moments, and the way you felt
Now you are able to say, that it wasn’t that accurate
Because all you could see was HIM
His head on your lap while you read to him in High Valyrian under the heart tree
You turning to him with a smile on your face the first time Karnax obeyed your command, the way he smiled back
The time you grabbed his hand and patted Karnax’s snout making him purr
But suddenly you were that frightened little girl in that tunnel in Driftmark
“no! stop it!”, you screeched, as Aemond had your older brother grabbed by his vest and he held a rock in his hand
“stop it!”, you begged him again, he threw his hand back to gain momentum and he hit you in the face with the rock
You wailed and cried, your face burning, a warm liquid filling your mouth with a metallic taste, blood pouring from your nose
Because of you your brother grabbed the knife, to avenge you, because of you baby Lucerys jumped at Aemond and slashed his eye off of his face
Soon you were not the only one crying bitterly
Soon some gloved, adult hands grabbed you and lifted you from the ground and took you to a maester
Soon you were seated across from Aemond, as the maester sewed his missing eye shut, his remaining eye didn’t leave your face, his mouth twisted in a dark mock
He didn't even blinked, he barely reacted when the needle pierced his skin over and over
While you only got a bloody nose.
Deeper into the night, after the maester sneaked you a bit of milk of the poppy, you woke up when you could no longer breathe, feeling a weight over your chest, when you opened your eyes the first thing you saw was Aemond’s scowl, the slash on his face still bright red.
“Aemond?”, you called, then he took a knife off his belt, you screeched but he placed his hand in your throat, “what’s happening?”, you cried, “I want my mom”
“Why was I the only one who lost something?”, he asked bitterly, “the only one scarred”
“You have Vhagar”, you whined
“I didn't stole her”, he clarified
“I know”, you said
“perhaps I should scar you too”
“You mom scarred mine”, you whined, a tear falling down your cheek, “please don’t”, you cried
Aemond looked down at you, you didn’t know what he was thinking, you only stood still, afraid. Your uncle seemed to ponder about something, thinking, analyzing, and then , with the hand that hold the dagger, he grabbed the covers and retired them, you were sleeping only in your loose nightshirt,
You were eight and he was ten, he grabbed the dagger, you were so scared you didn’t even move, you only cried and whined when he carved an “A” into your thigh
“Now you are scarred like me”, he said with an even voice, and an uneven stare, looking down at you like he was bored.
Even though you thought the Red Keep was your home, you were so relieved when your mom told all of you that you were going to live in Dragonstone from now on. You were now scared of your own uncle, of your friend, and therefore you managed to conceal your mark, never showing it to your parents
The next part of your memories were only a few weeks back, when you return for the first time to the Red Keep, to defend your own right to inherit Driftmark
You were lucky you were the only one that looked like a Targaryen
But Lord Vaemond Velaryon’s words still hurt
As he screamed bastard and whore to the entire court, you couldn’t help but look up at your uncle, feeling his gaze on you.
And before that in the training yard
That is when the uneasiness began, his gaze on you, that same smirk, like he was mocking you, and Jace, you were barely a year younger than your brother, he was only a year younger and yet, it seemed like Aemond was ages your senior, in abilities, in knowledge, in maturity, in everything
Perhaps that is why he was so amused
He seemed to mock you, to pity you, to be amused of how much of your childhood you still carried with you
You hugged yourself as Vaemond cursed you and your mother, and you felt his gaze on you the entire time
But then Daemon slayed Vaemond in front of all of you, Jacey, before you could see anything, he grabbed you and hid your face on his chest, to prevent you from looking at your now dead great uncle
Soon the impression on Aemond passed, as he watched in anger that bastard touching you, protecting you
He couldn’t stand the thought of you with someone else other than him.
That’s why he asked his mother, to ask Rhaenyra for your hand that very afternoon, right before the dinner
You couldn’t even eat, not with his gaze on you, you kept looking up at him, as he drank you in your black leather dress at the same time he drank from his cup. He didn’t not even for a second, let his gaze off of you.
You mother saw this, and grabbed your arm gently, and whispered to you what he wanted, that he asked for your hand
When your face twisted in fear and anguish, your mother’s changed to that of concern, then you both looked at Aemond across the table, and he could see in your faces, what the answer was going to be.
So fueled by anger and resentment, he stood from his chair and toasted to the health of his Strong nephews, and he looked directly at you when he said this.
“To the health of my nephews and sweet niece, my the gods keep them handsome, wise and Strong, she will need her strength, to bear my children after we are married”, he said with a smirk, and the entire table shared concerned looks
“WHAT?”, growled Daemon, looking at Rhaenyra
Whole hell broke loose
You tried to stop Jace, but he wouldn’t hear of it, he went for Aemond to defend your honor and he pushed him away like he was a doll
“Stop it!”, You begged him, after helping Jace on his feet you put yourself in between them Aemond walked towards you and grabbed you by the neck, he didn’t squeeze, he didn’t choke you, but you could see the anger in his eye
“You think you have a choice?”, he whispered to you, “I think you should see the scar in your leg to remind yourself of who you belong to”, But a leather hand grabbed Aemond’s arm roughly, you looked to the side and there was Daemon
“Get your hands off my daughter”, he whispered dangerously, and in the background, you could hear everyone screaming in desperation, specially Alicent
You were already crying, but he released you, smiling wickedly.
He had a face to face with Daemon, who put you behind him to protect you
“Over my dead body you will marry her”, he promised, Aemond only looked at you, and then he exited the room
Your mother send you home with your siblings that very night, scared of her own brother
And then as you took to the skies in the night you were suddenly transported to the last time you saw him
Aemond standing in front of you,
You were still in Storm’s End Hall, but there was no one else besides the both of you, you were alone. You wanted to speak, but couldn’t
“My beautiful, bastard, niece”, his words made you wince
You didn't know why you were here, is this what it was like to die? it felt like you were dreaming
“Why?”, you whispered, he tilted his head, amused, “Why do you hate me so much?”, you manage to ask, “I never did anything to you”
“I don’t hate you”, he said simply, “I’m just treating you like you deserve to be treated”, you frowned, “you are just a bastard, mine to toy with, mine to torment”
“Nobody deserves to be treated like that”, you fought, “is not my fault”, you whined, he only smirked, with a smooth movement he retrieved from inside his leather vest the dagge
“You are nothing, only the bastard daughter of a pretender who will never be Queen, strutting around the keep, with your bastard siblings”, a tear fell down your eye
“Is not my fault”, you cried, you believed him, a sadness taking a grip on you, you gasped for air as an inexplicable sorrow took a hold on you, “is not my fault!”, you cried, soon you couldn’t breath, you felt someone had a tight grip on your throat, you couldn’t breathe
You gasped for air, but something was preventing you from taking the oxygen you needed, you dried heaved, until you managed to throw up
Your body convulsed trying to expel the water from within your lungs, you tossed and turned until you finally manage to turn in the sand and threw up the salt water from within you
That is how you came to your senses again, disoriented, feeling sick, and clouded, and cold
So so cold
“So cold”, your voice sounded like a broken bagpipe, you tried to grab onto something, but your hand grabbed rocks and sand, you could barely see around you, it was all dark, it was late, and it was cold
You were soon aware that you were back in the land of the living, if you were dead, you wouldn't be in pain, you wouldn’t be so aware of your numb extremities, from the cold, the adrenaline, and the fact that you felt like you had been ran over by a herd of horses
You took your time to gather your bearings, to take deep breaths and expel the salty taste from your mouth, so sharp it clouded your mind even more
For some reason, even the stranger had forgotten you
once you managed to regain the mobility of your arms and legs, you turned around
“Karnax?”, you called, as you whimpered, feeling your loss in your chest, making it tight and hurt, as memories of the last moments coming back to you
“KARNAX?”, you called desperately, but you knew it was of no use, your dragon had been ripped apart by Vhagar, and it was a miracle that you were still alive
Then you stopped, maybe shouting and drawing attention back to you, wasn’t the brightest of ideas. But as you looked into the stormy sea, bitter tears fell down your eyes
Your baby dragon was gone, the one who had been with you since you were born.
You couldn’t stand on your own legs, you tried to, but failed.
You shivered, and tried to hug yourself
it was some miracle that the waves and current had dragged you to a small piece of beach with dark sands, rather than the rockery all around you
But you soon realize it wasn’t a miracle
You saw something, someone moved in your peripheral view, and you got a feeling…
Aemond walked towards you slowly
It had stopped raining but he was still wet as you were, his wet silvery locks stuck to the edges of his face and his clothes, all leather, protected him from the rain, he had taken off his eyepatch, and the sapphire gleamed even in the dark
You haven't yet recovered the feeling to your legs, but scared out of your mind you tried to crawl back, away from him. he smiled, wickedly, as he walked towards you
“Get away from me!”, you whined, but he stopped on your leg meanly, preventing you from advancing away from him. He only hummed, entertained
He looked like a creature that had come from the bottom of the ocean, front he pits of hell, he had resurfaced just to drag you back with him. He had come from your deepest nightmares
He leaned down towards you, you tried to fight him off, but he wouldn’t budge, he grabbed you tightly, roughly, tears fell down your eyes when he dragged you to him in a wicked embrace
“NO!”, you screamed squirming, trying to get away from him, “Why would you do that?”, you cried, bitter tears that burned your cheeks fell down your eyes, “My Karmax, my dragon, he was gentle, fair tempered, he never hurt anyone! He was good! Why did you do this? HE LOVED YOU AS HE DID ME! YOU KILLED HIM!”, you screamed, desperately fighting against him, to release yourself from his grasp
“He was weak and small, so are you”, he mocked in your ear
“WHO CARES ABOUT THAT?”, you felt physical pain in your chest, “he was my soulmate”, he manhandled you until he was face to face with you, he grabbed your jaw forcefully
“You have other things to worry about”, he growled, and you whimpered in his hold, trying to get away from him, but still you couldn’t, he was stronger than you, and you were completely destroyed
“please”, you whimpered, “you killed my dragon…”, his eye darkened even more, his expression was now the one of a man enraged
“Don’t you dare to even think we are even”, he growled, he then smirked darkly, “but after this we might”
The night was awfully calm, strangely so, and it was ridiculous you would think about something like that in a moment like this, but here you were
Because you knew what was about to happen
You only cried when Aemond threw you on the sandy floor, the hit numbing you partially, more than you were already. Aemond looked down at you for the very first time, in all this years, you saw him smile, he didn't smirk, he smiled widely, openly, you could see his teeth
“Please”, you begged him, to just leave you alone
“I love it when you beg”, he ceremoniously removed his long leather jacket, and left it gently on the floor
“I never did anything to you”, you whined, tears kept falling from your eyes and he finally jumped you, like a lion to his prey.
You tried to fight him off but you were so tired, so drained of all your energy, you couldn’t
You whined against him, but he didn't care, he never did, why would he do now?
He took the dagger off his belt, and for a fraction of a second you felt relieved, he was going to slice your neck and be done with it, but no, he sliced your riding pants instead, you tried to kick him, but barely moved him.
He got tired of your antics and grabbed you by the neck roughly
You whined and trashed, but he wouldn’t let go, soon the inability to breathe make you dizzy, losing the little strength you had left
“Please Uncle”, you managed to let out, cheeks wetted with your tears, the salty air making your skin burn
But he wouldn’t let go, he looked down a you with a sick satisfaction that make you whimper once more, as you were bare from the waist down
You never had high expectations regarding your first time with a man, you had heard from the Septas that it was your duty as a wife to please your husband in that matter, they had also said that it won’t be pleasant, that pleasure is not something you must seek
That the act of bedding was only to produce heirs
But with your sibling, Jace in particular, you had seen and read things, fueled by your curiosity, and you found out that it was quite pleasurable, for people that worked in the skin trade anyways…
You knew you had no expectations, but still
You never expected this
He undid his pants, releasing his manhood, it was big, thick, long, the tip red and angry, and even looking at it make you cry even more
“No please”, you managed to say, Aemond could see you were running out of air, so he released you just a little
He needed you conscious
“Please don’t do this, please”, you begged and begged, and he rebelled in it, he placed himself between your thighs, making you hurt
But the worst part was yet to come
“Why wouldn’t I?”, he mocked
While he still had you by the neck, the other went between your legs, yout thighs shook when you felt him, trying to introduce one of his fingers, it was uncomfortable, and it burned
You were dry
And he seemed to enjoy it
“Noooo”, you babbled, as you started hiccuping because of your distress, he only hummed. Pleased, with the situation, with you, or whatever
He fisted his cock only a couple of times, and gave you no reprieve.
He give you no space to move, no space to escape,
You shrieked in pain, the burn felt like nothing you had experienced before, you cried out as he ripped you open for him
“No! it burns, please”, you begged, “it hurts!”, you cried, you scream bloody murder
“Fuck”, he cursed, a sick smile on his lips
“Why?”, you cried, tears falling, whimpers being drawn, “Why?”, he paid no mind to you, only retrieved yourself and you almost thought that he was going to free you from this torment
Only for him to thrust into you even more roughly than before
You shrieked, as Aemond looked down for when your bodies were united and smiled when he saw the blood pouring from you. But he almost caught a glimpse of the mark he had drawn in your skin all those years ago.
“Now you are just a whore”, he said, satisfied with himself, again thrusting into you, “do you think Cregan Stark will want you now?”, he mocked
He kept fucking you, raping you, and the only thing in your mind to distract you from the pain was… why? Why did he hate you so much? if your dreams were to give you any clarity… which you doubted
“I’m sorry uncle”, you whispered, as he retrieved himself from you and then pushed again inside you, making you cry out
“I don’t care”
“I’m sorry”, you repeated again, and then again, like a mantra while he defiled you, while he took you against your will in that beach
“Come on, come for me, like the little wanting whore I know you are”, but you were far from it, you were still in pain, and your body reacted accordingly, trying to soothe you, lubricating itself to help you cope. He found your clit, pinching it and rubbing it roughly, too rough to be pleasurable, but it still helped.
Your head fell to the side, looking at the waves, so far yet so close, you wanted to get lost in them, as the rough sway of Aemond against you, you saw the waves coming and going with almost the same speed.
Until he grabbed your jaw and make you look back at him
The unhinged look in his eye, his growls and gasps
You grabbed the wrist of the hand that had you by the neck and you looked into his eyes, almost defiantly, and what you found in them scared you even more
You felt him deep in your belly, your insides were on fire you wanted to throw up, but the salty taste of all the sea water you drank was still present, giving you no reprieved
“Please stop”, you begged one more time, “please uncle, it hurts”
“Shh”, he only shushed you, he leaned in and kissed you, for the very first time, ever
His wet lips were a welcoming distraction, but not even in the kiss you felt relief, feeling only dread, desperation and anger
He bit on your lower lip, apparently the blood of your maidenhead wasn’t enough, he needed to taste it in his mouth too
You thought it was never going to end
Until finally his movements became sloppy, his eye rolled and he grabbed your neck even tighter
You felt him, deep inside you, ropes of his seed filling your womb
You cried even harder, moving more than before
He stood planted deep inside you for endless minutes, looking down at you, analyzing your face, and every expression on it, you only cried softly, your body tight with pain and trauma.
“i have to make sure it takes”, he mocked, and your shrieked shortly, “I told you I was going to give you my bastard”
You looked away from him, barely imagining how it was going to be like to bring shame to the family in that way.
Weak
You had let him do this to you
If only you were stronger
He finally released you, you whispered one more time when he took himself off of you
You felt a thick substance leaking off of you, and you could only imagine what it was
Aemond stood up, as he fixed his pants, you barely could roll to the side, hugging yourself, to look at the waves
You felt dizzy, nauseous, in pain and cold
And if you had something in your stomach you would have throw it out
But you didn’t
You felt his gaze on you again, you tried to ignore him, thinking faintly on how you are going to survive this, how you were going to go back home
To your family
They were going to love you no matter what, you knew this, and if Aemond tried to say the opposite, you were not going to believe him
Aemond didn't move, he only looked at you, the soft, musty wind hit your face, making you whimper in cold, but still, you laid there, unmovable, you could feel him moving, placing his jacket back on him, taking his time, and yet, you didn't move. Then he leaned in, and you tried to squirm away, but he grabbed you easily
“You either come with me, or I leave you here”, he whispered in your ear, you didn't move, you just stayed there, laying in the sand, he came into your frame, as you stared down at the beach. You were not an idiot, if he left you here, it is probable you were not going to make it, you were far away from everything, you had no dragon, another storm was coming
But going with him is unthinkable
Yet you didn't move
You saw his boots walking away from you, and then, they stopped
He looked back at you
You were stubborn
“Your Grace”, greeted the woman shakily, bowing to the Queen. Rhaenyra had unshed tears in her eyes
Daemon barely managed to get her out of her chambers. They had no news of you, and that is what scared them, they assumed the worse
“You are Lady Alyne Felwood, are you not?”, she asked, she did not mind to present herself like this, she hasn't brushed her hair, she hadn't even bathed, she wasn’t wearing her crown, still crying in front of that woman, a woman whose family was of the Stormlands, sworn to House Baratheon
“I am, indeed”
“Are you not sworn to House Baratheon?”, spitted Daemon by her side, looking as imposing now that his sweet wife couldn’t
“I was”, you whispered, “I was a part of the court of House Baratheon, and I was there that day when…”, Rhanyra’s gaze that had been on the table looked up at her, alarmed
“You were there?”, she asked, tears falling freely, the lady barely nodded
“I was”, she whispered, she looked within herself, to tell the tale as softest as she could, she did not want to bring her more pain, “I was there when the princess entered the Hall, unfortunately, Prince Aemond…”, she stopped to see their reaction, Daemon grabbed the pommel of his sword tightly, and Rhanyra whimpered, “had been there for hours when she arrived”
“It was him?”, she asked, Alyne barely nodded
“She made her case to Lord Borros, but one-eye had already made his own, offering his own, or his brother’s Daeron’s hand in marriage”, she said, “Lord Borros mocked the princess when she had nothing of the sort to offer him, and that is when…”, she paused, she might lose her head for this, in a “kill the messenger” situation, but she came her for a reason, “Aemond interrupted”
“What was said?”, asked Daemon impatiently, tired of the pauses
“He said that her brother had a debt to pay, that he wanted her to pay instead”
“What debt?”, she asked
“He said that he wanted a payment of blood”
“He slayed her…?”, cried Rhaenyra, but the lady shook her head
“He said he was going to take her maidenhead, and send you their sheets with her blood in it”, Rhaenyra whimpered, grabbing onto the painted table, “he tried to go to her but lord Borros intervened, he commanded her to be taken back to her dragon, she exited hastily, but so did he…”
“He demanded her maidenhead? And they let him go after her?”, she cried
“The guards on the battlements told Lord Borros that they have heard shouting, laughs and screams, and… a shriek of a Dragon”, Rhaenyra covered her mouth in an attempt to swallow her cries
“my little girl”, she cried, and Daemon hugged her tightly, hiding her face on his chest
“Why?”, asked Daemon, angry at this woman, who brought Rhaenyra sordid details about that day
“I’m a mother to a girl too”, she whispered
Then she was dismissed
“My girl!”, Rhaenyra cried, when they were alone, “my little girl”
“Shhh, my love, we will get her back, whatever it takes”
Taglist!
@lightdragonrayne @immyowndefender @aemondswifeisme @twobluejeans @toodlesxcuddles @sassysaxsolo @thearchitectoflove @maidmerrymint @floralsightings @daughterofthemoons-stuff @glendarollitkatharinesanders @ruhjkie @starkjedi @baconturtle
#misguidedhotd#misguidedhouse#aemond the kinslayer#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x oc#aemond targaryen#house of the dragon#targaryen!reader#house targaryen#hbo house of the dragon#aemond x reader#aemond one eye#hotd aemond#aemond fanfiction
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A fearful realization - Malleus X reader
A scenario in which you finally realize your feelings for the fae, however, the feeling doesn't leave you as elated as one may think.
"And thus, we have a gift prepared for all of you," Malleus Draconias voice rang through the hall of the masquerade event, confused whispers mix of excitement and nervousness rang throughout the students. Your eye brows furrowed in confusion yet a smile on your face remained nonetheless as Malleus, Azul, and Idia took center stage.
The moment he began to sing, you could have sworn you had tunnel vision. All you saw was Malleus Draconia, perfectly elegant up on that stage serenading the entire student body, yet everyone in the room seemed to just...vanish. You could feel warmth crawl up to your cheeks, your heart stinging as butterflies with sharp wings fluttered in your stomach. Had he always such a beautiful, entrancing voice? Have you ever noticed before the way he gracefully carried himself when you were so used to seeing him as an innocent student who hadn't much of a clue of common sense? When had he become such...a prince, in your eyes? These questions had pulled you away from reality for but a moment, not realizing you began to zone out as you listened to the singing until a voice pulled you out of your trance.
"(Y/N)?" Silver asked, landing a hand on your shoulder, "Are you alright? Your face is red. Are you sick? You must be exhausted without proper rest from the entire event," The silver-haired boy looked at you with concern in his eyes. Silver...you could trust him, right? He was like a little brother to you, a close friend, someone you could...No. You must keep this to yourself. You mustn't get so attached, your resolve must stay strong, you convinced yourself as such the moment you came to twisted wonderland.
"Sick.." You murmured, "Y-yeah something...something like that. I'm- I'm fine, Silver. Thank you though." Not fully convinced, his words were cut off as Malleus sang the high note of the song, to which your attention was quickly redirected to the tall, mesmerizing man with glowing emerald eyes that captivated your own. Your heart pounded in your chest, tingling as if pins and needles were poking rapidly at the organ. As the song came to a finish, you began to recall the entire night Malleus had done this to you somehow. Pulling you in as he had done many times before, Yet something felt...different, this time around. The whole trip to Fleur City has left your cheeks unwillingly rosy and your mind swirling in confusion, yearning for more as Malleus most likely unknowingly left you in a position of flustered heartbeats and disarray.
You kept thinking back to those moments, the way he said your name and looked at you with such tenderness before running off to save everyone, the way he always managed to find a way to be by your side, the way he thought of you as you fell with everyone else...the way he noticed you when it seemed as if you were falling behind the curtains, asking to sit by you simply to hear your thoughts when no one else seemed to particularly care. Seeing him there, the silly gargoyle-loving nerd who had spent the entire trip wishing to talk to you and be near you, under the spotlight with a little gift he had the idea of preparing...how much you admired him at this moment had been the final crack in your resolve.
"This...this is bad. really bad. My chest hurts...I.." You clutched the clothing in front of your heart, sucking in air quickly holding back stinging tears that threatened to leave your eyes. Silver tugged your arm in hopes you would move with him, to get you away from the crowd yet you wouldn't budge, your wide-eyed gaze not wavering from the draconic fae.
He's your friend. A very caring, and loving friend who simply wants another person to share his thoughts with. To him you are nothing more than that, a magicless human from another world who was eager to make friends. Nothing more...nothing..
"Your chest hurts? (y/n) What's going on? Are you alright?" You slowly turned to silver sweat beading your brow and your chest dropping into the pit of your stomach like a ball of lead slamming to the pavement. The boy was shocked to see sparkles of tears beginning to slip down your cheek running past the mask you wore.
"I think...I think I'm in love with Malleus," You spit out before you could tell yourself otherwise. Before Silver could be excited and express his joy for you confiding in him, you cut him off with a trembling hushed and panicked voice.
"And I'm terrified of it."
Pt. 2
~~~
Masterlist
#Twisted wonderland#Twst#Twisted wonderland x reader#twst X reader#Malleus draconia#twst imagines#twisted wonderland fanfiction#Twisted wonderland headcannons#Malleus#Malleus draconia x reader#Malleus x reader#Malleus twst#twisted wonderland malleus
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Ner Riduur (My Spouse)
Din Djarin x F!Reader
Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist
Author’s note: The lyric “What if he’s written mine on my upper thigh” from the Taylor Swift song, Guilty as Sin? has not left me alone and I couldn’t stop picturing a Mandalorian wedding ceremony where Din tattoos his riduur 🥹
Summary: You marry Din on Mandalore and get his handwriting tattooed.
Word count: 1k
Warnings: canon divergent, set post season 3, reader is able-bodied but has no physical description, feelings of doubt/anxiety, minor description of pain, needles, made up customs for Mandalorian weddings, ceremonial tattooing, allusions to smut, Mando’a words and phrases (translations included after), no use of y/n
It’s a beautiful day on Mandalore. But it’s not just a regular day today. It’s your wedding day. A nervous pit’s been forming in your stomach since you landed here. You’re not nervous about marrying Din. You’ve never been more sure about anything in your life.
It’s the ceremony itself that’s making you nervous. Ever since Din informed you about a certain practice in Mandalorian culture, you haven’t been able to put it out of your mind. Today, he’s going to tattoo Ner Riduur (my spouse) on your upper thigh. At the same time, the rest of the clan watches. You’re worried about the pain. You’re worried about looking weak in front of the clan. You’re worried about… disappointing Din.
No, that’s stupid. He loves you. He’d never be disappointed in you.
At least that’s what you tell yourself.
You spend the day getting ready until it’s some for the ceremony at sundown. Not that much preparation is needed. Mandalorian wedding ceremonies are rather simple. Bo-Katan agreed to watch Grogu overnight so you two can have some alone time. That’s what you’re looking forward to the most, spending time with him alone; a rare occurrence lately.
The Armorer, Bo-Kotan, and some of the other female Mandalorians escort you to The Great Forge. Your knees go weak beneath you, your palms grow sweaty, and your mind races with every thought possible.
Not cold feet. It would never be cold feet. But suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of your appearance, your mannerisms, the way you carry yourself. You’re about to be your most vulnerable self in front of a sea of warriors. It’s nerve-wracking. It’s an act of bravery.
But then it all makes sense when you see Din. Everything else turns to white noise around you. It’s tunnel vision on the man you’re about to spend the rest of your life with. It’s as natural as the force interconnecting everything in the galaxy, as sure as the suns rising and setting on Tatooine.
You join hands with him in front of the flames, quickly glancing at the crowd of Mandalorians watching you. Bo-Katan shoots you a reassuring smile and you can feel some of your nerves start to subside.
Din starts the vows, squeezing your hands before he speaks.
“Mhi solus tome. Mhi solus dar'tome. Mhi me'dinui an. Mhi ba'juri verde.” (We are one together. We are one when parted. We share all. We will raise warriors.)
Tears well up in your eyes as you repeat the vows back to him. And then the easy part is over just like that. It’s time for the tattoo.
He leads you behind the forge, where a cloth lay spread out for you. Beside it is a needle and a jar of pitch-black ink. The forge offers a sliver of privacy from the watching eyes and blank visors but not much. You shed your pants, leaving just your underwear as you lay on the cloth. Din tugs off his glove and your heart skips a beat at the sight of his hand palming your thigh.
“Are you ready, riduur?”
“Of course,” you smile, taking a deep breath and relaxing.
With focus and care, he dips the needle in the ink and picks a spot on your left leg, on your upper thigh and below your hip bone. You look at him the whole time and hold your breath as the needle makes contact with your skin. The pain isn’t as bad as you expected and now that you’re conquering your fear, you’re able to focus on the reality of the situation. Your riduur is tattooing you. The words Ner Riduur will be on your skin forever. Maker, does it make your heart soar.
It’s done sooner than you expected. You look down at the words, skin stinging and tears springing in your eyes again. But not from the pain. From the love and trust you have for him.
“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” (I love you) Din says softly.
“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” you whisper back.
He holds out his hand and helps you up. You put on your pants as he replaces his glove. Once you’re back in front of the forge, you’re met with a boisterous cheer from the clan. Two riduurs standing before their clan. It can’t get any better than this.
-
Once the festivities are over, you’re back at home with Din. Once the clan reclaimed Mandalore, they wasted no time building homes. It feels nice having a real place the two of you can call home. The helmet’s finally able to come off now that you’re alone. His eyes are glued to your tattoo the entire time, making sure to be extra gentle with it. But it doesn’t stop him from having his riduur in his marital bed that night.
Two bodies and souls intertwined together. Shared breaths and lingering touches, a safe haven found in each other’s arms. His eyes are wide with all of the love and admiration in the galaxy, pupils wide with only a small ring of warm brown showing. No detail is missed when it comes to pleasure. He takes his time with you, making sure you’re comfortable, making sure his riduur gets everything she wants. It ends with you climaxing together harmoniously,
He grabs a bandage from the refresher and wraps it around your thigh, whispering, “I’m so proud of you.” He kisses your forehead before getting into bed with you. You fall asleep in one another’s arms, both of you fitting together like you were made for one another.
-
When the morning light seeps in through the window, you stir awake. Glancing down, your eyes land on your thigh. You smile to yourself before you roll over and look at Din. Maker, he looks so peaceful, lashes fanned out against his face and his chest rising and falling rhythmically. He’s softly snoring and it’s a sound you’re ready to hear every morning for the rest of your life. Everything you yearned for for so long is here, finally a reality you’re living in. This is where you were meant to be.
End note: May the fourth be with you! ✨
Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics
Dividers: @saradika-graphics
#din djarin x reader#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin x f!reader#din djarin x you#din djarin#the mandalorian#the mandalorian fanfiction#pedrostories#star wars fanfiction#the mandalorian x reader
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Little Girl Gone (pt 3)
Synopsis: After Tommy fixes you up, you can't help but let old feelings get in the way. Then, the unexpected happens.
word count 2.8k
information/warnings: cursing, talk of death, not too much, the LIGHTEST hint of smut activity. this chapter is very strange to me, i wrote 3 different versions of it, and this is the one that i felt would carry the story further. not proofread!!
taglist: @budugu, @ajmiila02, @filmtv2022, @cyphah, @ce1iat, @thenattitude
thank you all so so much for reading, i hope you enjoy this chapter!! please leave a comment if you had questions, critiques, anything!
As you sat in the back office of the Garrison, waiting for Thomas, you heard the wails of a man coming from the bar. You could hear every single time a punch connected here, a kick landed there, and the screams that punctuated each. If you strained your ears hard enough, you could hear small grunts and pants of air coming from another man, who you assumed to be Tommy. The beating continued for another few moments, and all you could do was listen. The cries and moans of pain eventually stopped, followed by a distinct voice.
“Get ‘em out of my fuckin’ pub. I’ve got to go see about my girl.”
It was Tommy, and he called you ‘his girl’ in front of everyone.
Tommy entered the office, wiping his hands with a bar rag. You noticed the slight red tinge on the cloth, but decided to let him handle it, he was Tommy Shelby after all, surely he’d had worse than a couple of bruised knuckles. You watched him, as he cleaned his hands and then looked at you. Without speaking, he moved to his desk and opened one of the lower drawers. He pulled out a small white box, marked on the top by a small red cross.
“C’mere, Love. Let me see that cut.” He said, motioning for you to sit on his desk while he sat in his chair.
You walked towards him, wringing your hands together out of nervousness. Not only were you nervous because you were about to have his undivided attention, but him calling you ‘his girl’ still rang loud in your mind. You approached his desk, standing in front of where he was seated in his chair. He stood, hooking his hands under your arms, and lifted you so that your ass was directly on top of his desk; you were fairly certain you were sitting on some important legal documents. He softly grabbed your chin, and tilted your head to the side, allowing for him to get a clear view of your face. He gave a little ‘hmph’ and opened the first aid box. He pulled out a spray, an ointment, and a bandage. You realized how lucky you were to not need stitches when you saw the plain needle and thread also in the box.
“This is going to sting Love, so just sit still for me, okay?” He spoke, turning your head so that you had to look him in the eye.
“Okay, Tommy.” You nodded.
He began with the spray, which stung like hell, but you were tough and you wanted to be good for him so you sat still as frozen concrete. The small smile that appeared on his face at your little grimace didn’t go unnoticed.
“Good girl. The next thing shouldn’t sting, but still, don’t move.” He said, the deep baritone of his voice making your ears heat up.
While Tommy was applying the ointment and bandage to your forehead, the two of you began talking. He told you a little bit about the war, as you were young and left almost as soon as he got back. He still felt guilty speaking about it to you now, in his mind you were innocent, despite how you just beat a grown man's ass into the dirt a few moments prior. He thought that you should never have to know about war, about mass casualty. He told you about the tunnels he helped dig and operate, and every once in a while when he would get choked up, you would rub your hand along his arm that was still doctoring your face. One particular moment made you realize just what he had been through.
“We were down there, it was dark and it stunk. My God, Y/N, it stunk. People died down there and we had no way to get them out, no way to even try and get them help. Towards the end, one of my comrades, one of the few I was actually friendly with, he got hit. We never even saw it coming. He got left down there, and sometimes, I still see him…” Tommy trailed off.
You watched him with sympathy as a single tear rolled out of his eye. Tommy had seen you cry plenty, but this was the first time you had ever even seen his eyes water.
“Shh, it’s okay, Tom. Why don’t I tell you more about my time up North? Did you know thats where I went? Up North?” You said softly, trying to get him to come out of his head and back into the present with you.
“I knew you went North, Y/N. I called around about you until I found someone who knew where you were. I just wanted to know you were safe.” He said.
Tommy had looked for you? Not only looked, but he knew where you were this entire time? So much for ever truly getting away from the Shelby’s, you laughed at yourself.
“Well then how come I never heard from you? If you knew where I was, why didn’t you ever stop in? Or were you watching me so that you’d be able to stop me from ever coming back?” You scoffed, now leaning back on your hands since he was done with your cut.
“Of course I wanted you to come home, Y/N. I didn’t reach out because I thought you ran away from me. I didn’t want to scare you off the continent, so I settled for just knowing you were safe.” He replied, packing up his first aid box.
You studied his expression, and savored his words in your mind. You had been holding feelings for Tommy since you were 16. You were both grown now, and although you couldn’t be certain, the things he was saying sounded an awful lot like something you’d say to someone you cared for. You decided to bite the bullet, and expose your younger self.
“Look Thomas, we’re both grown, professional, adults right?” You said, cocking your head to the side.
“...Right?” He answered, giving you a puzzled look.
“Well then, I’m just going to out myself, and if you don’t like what I have to say then we’ll pretend I didn’t say it,” you paused, just trying to see if he would interrupt, he didn’t. “I have looked at you in so many ways Tommy. I’ve seen you be a brother, a friend, an enemy, but all you ever were to me, since I was sixteen years old, was Tommy. My Tommy. I have pined after you and wanted you since I was sixteen, and you never gave me the time of day. I don’t know what you mean by all of what you’ve said, especially earlier when you were poking fun at me over dinner, but I can see that you care for me Tommy. I’m not sure how thick you think these walls are, but I heard you call me ‘your girl’ earlier. You have opened up to me without reserve like I have never seen you do before Thomas. Never. I’m saying all this to say a few things. One, I didn’t say goodbye to you because I couldn’t face you. I knew that if I had to look at you, and have one last conversation, that I would hold onto that for the rest of my life, and those words would be the only ones of yours that I could ever hear in my head. Two, I want you to understand, and make no mistake, that I like you Thomas. Not just in a ‘well he’s fine, I like him way’, but in a way that makes my ears hot, that makes me want to giggle like a child and swing my arms around. I like you in a way that is bordering on love, Tommy. And three, I need to know if you feel the same way. I need to know. Even if you don’t, even if you have never looked at me like that and you never will, and all I will ever be to you is an annoying family friend, I need to know.”
You took a deep breath, unsure of what was going to come next. You felt a single tear roll down your cheek, but not from sadness, from relief. You had been holding onto these feelings for years, you never shared them with anyone, their weight was your own. You watched his face as he processed all of this. Practically watched the wheels turn in his brain. You had watched him so much, that you had his beautiful face committed to memory, forevermore trapped in your brain. This version of Tommy, the version where he hadn’t yet opened his mouth to tell you that he doesn’t like you, that he doesn’t see you like that, was perfect. He was beautiful, all soft pink lips and tortured blue eyes. You even thought the dark colors under his eyes from being sleep deprived were pretty. You took one last photo of him in your mind, before he opened his mouth. He stood from his chair, putting him above your eye level. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it shut again. He did this a few times, each time the look in his eye changing with the opening and closing of his mouth. Finally, he spoke.
“Y/N, I am rarely left speechless, but I think you’ve caught me here, Love.” He said softly, bringing his hand up to cradle your jaw.
He leaned his head in towards you, slower than you ever thought it possible for a human to move. Once you realized what was happening, a million thoughts ran through your head. Were you really about to kiss Thomas Shelby? Was he really about to kiss you? Here? In his office? You never imagined this would be his response to your love-fueled ramblings, but this was the best outcome you ever could’ve hoped for. You had fallen for this man many years ago, but those feelings weren’t like regular school-yard crushes. They never went away, never dwindled, never stopped or changed in any negative value. You had filled your own head with imagined words he’d said to you, convincing yourself that if he ever noticed you, just once if he could see you for the woman you truly are, that he would love you, or like you at least. But now, after you had confessed and outed and embarrassed yourself in his office, now is when he chooses to notice you? Here? While your face is bandaged up from a bar brawl that you got into? You weren’t the typical woman that Tommy Shelby went for, not now. He would go for women who were outwardly dainty, yet fierce inside. Women who carried small pocket knives in their dress pockets, and would brandish them as a ‘party trick’. Tommy Shelby did not go for women who held their own, physically. He did not go for women who stole knives off of fighting opponents, who held their composure getting fixed up in a dark back office, women who went away for five years and turned up without so much as a ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’.
Your inner monologue quickly settled, as you realized that you had created all of those thoughts within a few milliseconds, as here stood Thomas before you, still leaning in to press his lips to yours. You waited, breath hitched, eyes slowly closing, lips slowly parting, your hand coming to rest on his waist, just waiting for the fiery moment when his lips touched yours.
“Aye!” A crash came through the doorway.
Tommy jerked back, taking his hand and all your thoughts with him. You stared at him with an open mouth, chest moving wildly up and down, and then turned to the man who ruined your fucking moment. Arthur Shelby.
“What in the hell do ya’ two think your doin’? ‘Specially you, Y/N. Why the fuck are ya startin’ fights in my pub?” Arthur asked, his hands resting on his hips.
“I didn’t start shit, Arthur. Maybe make sure you don’t let fuckin’ creeps in the door and I wouldn’t have to teach these men a thing or two!” You shouted, mad at Arthur for many reasons.
One, how dare he come in here and start talking at you, not even asking if you’re okay? Two, He just ruined the best fucking moment you’d had in five long, miserable, dry years.
“Oi, Arthur, you could at least ask her if she's okay,” Tommy remarked, turning his attention towards you again.
You stared at the two brothers, feeling the slightest bit unhinged. You had yelled at Arthur when he was acting like a reasonable buisness man, of course he’d want to know why there had been a knife fight in his pub. However, would it have fuckin’ killed him to wait five more seconds before he came barging in?
“Arthur, I’ll go over all the details tomorrow,” Tommy spoke again, “For now, lets get Y/N back to Watery Lane. I’m sure news has spread and Ada and Pol will skin me if I don’t let them see her in one piece before I take her home.”
The three of you headed outside, loading up into the Shelby car. You sat in the back, with Tommy driving and Arthur in the passenger seat. There was no conversation made on the way back to the Shelby home, only silence. You watched as buildings passed out of the window, wondering what was going to come of you and Tommy now? There had been such a buildup, and obviously he felt some kind of way about you, right?
Once the three of you made it to Watery Lane, it was absolutely pouring outside. A thunderstorm had come from seemingly nowhere, lighting the sky up in streaks of white-purple light every few seconds. The rain fell heavily against the roof and windows of the car, and Tommy offered you his jacket as a cover for your head. You accepted his offering, and the lot of you scurried as fast as you could into the foyer of the home.
“Y/N, I don’t think I’ll be able to take you home tonight, Love. Are you comfortable staying here?” Tommy asked, now that Arthur had wandered off deeper into the house.
“Of course, Tommy. It won’t be the first time I’ve slept here. But is there room for me?” You questioned, realizing that either everyone was home (for once), meaning all rooms were occupied.
“Don’t worry about that, we’ll find you a good place to sleep.” He said, a sly smile coming across his face.
After explaining the whole situation to Polly and Ada, you were beyond tired. It was well past midnight at this point, and you could barely hold your eyes open. Tommy seemed to take notice, and bid the two other women goodnight for the both of you. He took your hand and lead you up the stairs to his room.
“You can borrow some of my clothes to sleep in, okay, Love? I’m going to go to the bathroom to change, just open the door when it’s safe for me to come back in.” He said, handing you a folded up shirt and pair of boxers.
You quickly stripped off the wet clothes, hanging them to dry in his closet. You ran your fingers through your damp hair, trying your best to smooth it out from the rough night you’d had. You cracked open the door of Tommy’s room, and saw him standing in the hallway, gazing at the door. Once he snapped out of his trance, he came into his room and shut his door behind him.
“You look good in my clothes, Y/N.” He whispered, barely loud enough to be heard.
You felt your cheeks blush at his comment. You saw him walk behind you, and then heard the creaking of bed springs.
“Where am I going to sleep, Thomas?” You asked, not understanding why he was getting into bed when the situation hadn’t been resolved.
“Right ‘ere, Love,” he patted the other side of his bed, “I don’t bite, I promise.” He smiled.
You gave him a hesitant look before climbing into his bed, suddenly feeling relaxed by his smell. His presence was all around you. You could smell him on the sheets, you could hear his breathing behind you as you lay on your side, and then, you could feel his arm around your waist as he pulled your back flush to his warm, bare chest.
“Goodnight, Y/N. Sleep well, Love.” Tommy whispered, still holding his grip on you.
“Goodnight, Tommy.”
#tommy shelby#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby fic#thomas shelby fic#thomas shelby x y/n#peaky blinder fanfic#thomas shelby smut
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Sunshine - Tommy Shelby (smut)
I don't know where this idea came from, but I'm in love with how this turned out, ngl. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader and Tommy cross paths at war, he's hurt, and she's right there to help him. An inextricable bond begins to form, forcing them to stick together even as the war ends.
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, mentions wounds and blood, friends to lovers
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (about 3k words)
header by @deathofpeaceofmind
“You have to hold still, otherwise I won’t be able to clean your wound.” (Y/n) scolded him, bloody hands working on his side, carefully cleaning the bleeding wound. The soldier had his lips pressed into a thin line, eyes staring at the ceiling of the medical tent, trying to stop himself from moving around.
Even though (y/n) tried her best to concentrate on his wound, she couldn’t help but look at him every now and then. He was awfully handsome, the blue eyes of his made him stand out amongst an endless seeming crowd of soldiers, unable to blend in with pupils that reflected so much and yet told so little, like waves rolling ashore, telling tales of people and places one would never stumble upon. She had seen him around every few days, though (y/n) had never dared to speak up, holding back from stealing any of his precious time, aware of the work he did in the dark.
“Hold onto my arm.” (Y/n) whispered her words, forcing him to look at her with his eyebrows furrowed. “This will sting, I rather have you holding onto me than you flinching away from the needle.”
“I’ll behave, promise.” Even though he kept his voice emotionless, the soldier couldn’t stop his lips from taking on a soft smile. For a few seconds they held eye contact, trying to figure out what else they could say, wondering who’d give in first. But before another reply could roll off (y/n)’s tongue, his hand began to move, calloused fingertips stroking her arm. Goosebumps began to cover her skin, rising on her arms like hail falling from the sky, covering the ground.
“I’ll be quick, promise, soldier.” A soft chuckle left the man who wasn’t known as a gleeful soul amongst his fellow soldiers, and yet it seemed like she was the sunshine following a week full of rain and dark clouds, the one to pull him out of his misery.
……
“Cigarette?” She held it out for him, watching him reach for it, carefully, calculated almost. With his eyes fluttering close he deeply inhaled, allowing her to marvel at him as he freed the blue smoke from his nostrils. “How’s your side?”
“Better than ever, sunshine.” The nickname left her tensing, filled with a biting heat she wasn’t able to swallow. Ever since the day he had stumbled into the medical tent, begging her to take care of his bleeding wound, he had started calling her sunshine, the rays of heat that seemed to brighten his days whenever he crossed paths with (y/n).
“Don’t lie to me, Tommy, you know I can see right through it.” It was true, he couldn’t tell how and why, but she seemed to be the only one who could see through the cold facade he had built around him, trying to keep to himself. He was plagued by nightmares, struggling to keep on breathing when the nights grew as dark as the underground tunnels he was moving through whenever he had to. And yet everything seemed to fade away whenever she appeared.
“No lies, it’s the truth. Tell me, what will you do once this nightmare is over? Return to your family, your husband, eh?” He took another drag before he stretched his hand out, allowing her to take the cigarette back. (Y/n) pondered over his words for a few seconds, unable to reply as her mouth grew dry and her jaw muscles started tensing.
“No family, no husband, it’s just me.” Her eyes found her hands, watching her fingers fumble with the dress she had to wear, the dirty white fabric that desperately needed a good wash. Two of his fingers found her chin, tilting her head upwards once again, blue eyes finding hers like a bullet perfectly piercing through its target.
“If we survive this, I’ll take you home with me, you won’t be alone again, I promise.”
……
It is true what they say, war changes people, those that once entered the fight with brave hearts and proud smiles, ready to fight for their country, returned with broken hearts and chapped lips, no longer ready to put the horror they’ve lived through into words. It hadn’t been any different for Tommy Shelby nor his family members, those that woke with muddy cheeks every single day, and those that waited at home, patiently watching the days turn into weeks.
But even though the Tommy Shelby who returned back home could no longer wear the same smile he had once mastered perfectly, he hadn’t been able to allow darkness to consume every single fibre of his body, all thanks to her, his sunshine, his (y/n).
Ever since that day in the medical tent, (y/n) had found herself dreaming of his lips, of his hands, of the way he could touch her, mere dreams that never turned real. Tommy treated her like he’d treat his wife, and yet he never crossed that one last, invisible line keeping their friendship from turning into a romantic relationship. He kept his distance, a distance she oh so desperately wanted to minimise, and yet couldn’t.
“(Y/n)?” Tommy’s voice echoed through his office, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, piercing eyes focused on the letter he was holding in his hands. His ears listened to the sound of approaching steps, while his eyes didn’t meet hers once, too focused on the words he kept rereading.
“Tell me, what do you think of Winston Churchill?” Only as (y/n) came to a halt next to him, taking the letter from his hands did Tommy dare to look at her. He leaned back, watching her read the lines, carefully as if her and his life depended on it. She was too focused on the letter to notice the glint of his piercing eyes, the way he admired her like he was admiring the most expensive piece of an art gallery, an invaluable treasure.
“Deals with politicians, are you sure of it, Tommy? They don’t speak the same language we do.” A raspy chuckle left Tommy as he lit his cigarette, hand finding her wrist to pull her into his lap. (Y/n) couldn’t stop her gasp from rumbling through her, not used to being touched like this. Their eyes didn’t break contact, clinging to one another as if they were scared that they’d lose one another in an ever growing crowd.
“The only thing I need from him is to understand the fucking words I’m speaking, should be plenty enough, don’t you think, sunshine?” It had been years since he had first used the nickname, but (y/n) was still not used to it, unable to stop her teeth from leaving marks on her lower lip as she averted her gaze, watching his fingers fumble with the cigarette he was smoking.
“Promise you’ll shoot first if you get into any trouble, I can’t have you die on me any time soon.” She whispered her words, smiling as he pressed his forehead against her temple. For a few seconds Tommy allowed the two to relish in one another’s company, clinging to the calm silence that wrapped them in a warm embrace.
“Be careful, one may think you actually enjoy having me around, sunshine.”
……
No sounds filled the night as (y/n) found herself staring at the ceiling of her room, clinging onto the blanket keeping her warm. It had been minutes since Polly had entered the house, guided towards Tommy’s office, finding shelter in the room (y/n) had been in numerous times before.
For the past minutes she had wondered what Tommy and Polly were speaking about – deals, money, guns? Whatever it was, (y/n) couldn’t help but fear for Tommy’s life, the one that had taken her in, returning home with her clinging to his side. He had taught her everything he could share, every insight into the business he kept building, he shared it all with her, trusting her more than his family members.
Her naked feet met the ground as she rose from her bed, arms wrapped around herself. She was careful not to make any noises, not wanting to gain Polly's or Tommy’s attention, too curious for her own good. Slowly (y/n) came to a halt in front of the office, holding her breath as she tried to listen to the conversation.
“Be careful, before you ruin this for yourself, Tommy. You need a woman, a wife, not a shadow like her. I can see it in her eyes, the girl loves you, let her go before you drag her down with you.” Hurt filled (y/n)’s veins, heart clenching in her chest. She had always known that Tommy would eventually have to marry, and yet, deep down she had hoped that one day he’d choose her.
“I rather live with her by my side, than not have her around at all. I won’t let her go.” A sharp breath was inhaled into (y/n)’s lungs, unable to bite down her smile. God, she’d walk to the end of this very world for Tommy, would dig graves six feet down with her own bare hands if he’d ask her to. He was her end and her beginning, the rising and setting of the ever moving moon.
“My god, Thomas. If you love her this much, do something about it, for all our sakes.” The sound of shoes meeting the ground forced (y/n) away from the door, hurrying back to her room before they could notice her. Her heart was pounding, shooting heat through her veins, for the first time since crossing paths with Tommy, she had heard him putting the way he felt towards her into words, forcing a new wave of hope through her system.
(Y/n) gave it a few minutes before she left the room again, making her way back down the hallway, eyes set on the now open door.
“It's not good for you to stay up this late, one day you’ll work yourself to death.” Her tired voice filled his office, naked feet patting against the ground. With a tired sigh spilling from his lips, Tommy turned towards (y/n), drinking in the sight of her sleeping gown. Her warm hands found his glasses, carefully setting them down on his desk before she placed herself on his thighs, a bold movement that left the man smiling, hand finding the small of her back almost instinctively. (Y/n) found herself urged on by her newfound hope, by the confidence now swimming in her blood.
“What are you doing awake this late?” Neither of them dared to move, enjoying their touches, the warmth that radiated off one another. Tommy’s thumb stroked the soft fabric of her gown, setting her skin on fire with every movement.
“I couldn’t sleep, I knew I’d find you still awake.” His chuckles left her heart skipping beats, urging her on to do what she had been dreaming of doing ever since she had met him in that tent. (Y/n) gave it a few more seconds, struggling to give herself the final push before she oh so slowly crossed the distance between them, lips ghosting over his. Tommy pulled her even closer, hands holding onto her waist, not daring to let her go as they deepened the kiss.
His tongue moved along her lower lip, begging for entrance, not ready to break the kiss just yet. (Y/n) wrapped her arms around his neck, trembling on his thighs as an unfamiliar wave of heat flushed through her, shooting right down her spine. Soft moans left the two, wordlessly communicating what they wanted to do, what they wanted to feel, and how they needed to be touched.
“Tell me, sunshine,” his raspy voice left her gasping, swollen lips aching to feel his again. “How much of the conversation with Polly did you hear?”
(Y/n) didn’t dare ask him how he knew that she had been eavesdropping, burying her face in the crook of his neck as another laugh left Tommy, big hand moving up and down her spine.
“Enough to tell you that I love you.” The second he picked up on her whispers, Tommy’s hand stopped moving, letting the words sink in. Silence engulfed the two for a few moments, a silence so loud, (y/n) found herself lifting her head, wondering if his words had another meaning, if he didn't feel the same kind of love.
“That day in the tent, I was convinced that I’d die. I spoke to a god I no longer look up to, but then you appeared, like a godsent gift. You saved me in more ways than you could think. Ever since that day I knew that I loved you, a love so pure it felt too good to be true, my sunshine, my (y/n).” Once again did (y/n) close the distance between them, kissing him as a fire began to simmer deep inside of her, eyes falling shut.
Without another warning, Tommy rose to his feet, with (y/n) clinging to him. She was placed down on his desk, allowing him to stand between her thighs, hands disappearing beneath the soft fabric of her gown. (Y/n) found herself trembling against him, allowing Tommy to push the fabric up to her hips, exposing her naked heat.
“Will you let me? I want to feel you, want to touch you like I should have already touched you all these months ago.” She could only nod, mouth too dry to reply. Carefully he brushed his fingers through her slit, collecting drops of her arousal he used to circle her bundle of nerves, leaving her moaning. (Y/n) had to hold onto his holster, scared that she’d fall back, unable to stop her body from giving into the pull of lust taking over her system.
Tommy’s piercing eyes kept flickering between her lust drunken features and her heat, hoping that he could etch the sight into his mind. She was beautiful, too pure for him, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from blemishing her, from leaving his claim on the woman he intended to keep around till he’d bid this life goodbye.
“Tommy,” she choked on his name as he pushed two fingers into her tightness, curling them against her swollen spot as his thumb kept circling her pulsing clit. “I want your cock, please, fuck me. Been dreaming of this for too long.”
“I will, and I promise I’ll fuck you properly in my bed later, but for now this will have to do.” Her hazy mind couldn't spare his words any attention, but the promise of being touched by him again and again left her panting, eyes threatening to fall close. She watched him undo his trousers, freeing his hardening cock with skilled movements. He pumped himself a few times before he aligned himself with her tightness.
One of her hands found his, interlacing their fingers before he pushed into her. Both needed a few moments to adjust to the sensation, inhaling heavy breaths. He started with slow thrusts, enjoying the new sensation both had been dreaming of for months, restless days where they couldn’t help but cling to their need for one another.
“God, Tommy, I love you, don’t ever let me go.” (Y/n)‘s whines urged him on to kiss her, soothing the uneasiness filling her veins. He was right there, couldn’t and wouldn’t let her go, even if he had to.
“I once promised to take care of you, I never break my promises, sunshine.” Tommy began to pick up the speed of his thrusts, letting go of her hand to find his way back to her pulsing bundle, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Both couldn’t help but thank their lucky stars, fate was finally on their side, allowing them to form a bond that reached deeper than those of soulmates made for one another. They were more, so much more.
“Feels so good, Tommy, so so good.” A newfound sense of pride filled his veins, spurring him on to make her cum right there and then. Her moans guided him on, begging Tommy to never stop fucking her, to leave his marks on her body for curious eyes to see.
She was his, as much as he was hers. The sunlight to his ever growing darkness. The fleeting darkness to her ever growing sunshine. The light to defeat the dark.
“Such a pretty sight for me, can feel you so close, let go for me.” His raspy voice rang in her ears like a siren going off, warning her of her inevitable fall. A fall that wouldn’t end with a harsh crash, caught by the loving arms she could call her home and shelter from now on.
Tommy watched her come undone, eyes squeezed shut, head rolling back. Her walls clenched his cock, begging him to follow her down the edge with moans rippling through her. Tommy needed a few more thrusts before he could give in, pulling out of her to release himself on her lower stomach.
“Never stop touching me, Tommy.” Her whispers left him chuckling, forehead pressed against hers as his hand found her neck, a possessive grip that left her walls clenching once again.
“I promise, sunshine, I promise.”
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fever
pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her)
rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)
word count: 7.5k
summary: but at the timbre of your voice, a cold shiver runs down his spine. his eyes widen in acceptance. there must have been some sort of- poison, or aphrodisiac in that damn plant that you'd both been struck with.
warnings: SMUT. dubcon (sex pollen), age gap (not specified), use of the word ‘girl’, friends(ish) to lovers, canon-typical mentions of violence, needles/getting pricked by a plant, descriptions of canon-typical injuries, unprotected PiV sex, kinda rough, creampie, light cumplay, oral (f and m recieving), a fair amount of begging, dacryphilia, size kink, overstimulation, voyeur Joel if you squint just for a sec, facefucking, mutual masturbation, multiple orgasms, some spanking, choking, reader gets slapped on the cheek like once, dom!joel miller, spit kink, fingering, dirty talk/slight degradation if you squint, light praise, this is just basically porn with no plot, they’ve got feelings for each other but they’re in denial, ellie is in this in the beginning but doesn’t hear them thank GOD,
notes: this is my first work for Joel and though I never finished the first game, the release of the TV series inspired me bc i am a SLU T for pedro lmao. this is terribly unedited because I just forgot i took edibles after i smoked and cranked this out in an hour and a half so sorry if it’s choppy or a bit ooc for joel. ALSO IF IM MISSING WARNINGS PLS MESSAGE ME
★
"whose brilliant idea was this?"
you say it from behind Joel, the echo of your boots splashing through the tunnel as you look around you, your eyes sneaking to observe the width of his shoulders, the stretch of his shirt over the muscles.
Joel can't stop the twist of his lips as he grumbles back at you, "yours." he mutters, rolling his eyes.
his flashlight cuts through the darkness in front of you two, scaling over the walls that grow slimy with repeated dew and rainwater, algae sprawling over the pipes and reaching its fingers down towards your shoes. he doesn't like being down here, it's too quiet, damp, dark. perfect for cordyceps to grow.
you let out a soft, amused hum at his words that coaxes a bubble of irritation through Joel - you'd always been stubborn, from the day he'd first laid eyes on you; a young thing at the time, baring teeth you thought were sharp but really just looked like a little doe snapping its jaw at him.
it's been long enough with you around now that Joel knows you better than he's willing to admit, and maybe also knows himself than he would ever say out loud - because you're still that stubborn fireball of a woman and he's still the tired old man who you find amusing to tease. and he likes it, deep deep down.
"yeah, maybe just letting it go was the better option." you muse from behind him, voice still somehow dripping like honey though the sloshing of the sewer provided nothing but unpleasantries for the group of you. he turns to spare a glare at you; you were already smirking at him. setting him up, then lying in wait.
a damn minx.
he sighs, looking away: sure, he wants you, of course he does - you were spry, beautiful, intelligent, and resourceful. but you were stubborn, and butted heads with him more than rams did in mating season. still, there'd been too many lingering glances, suggestive phrases, and gentle caresses for it to be a coincidence. he could tell that when you watched him split wood or help teach you to shoot a gun that you were probably soaked through your panties, and that made him hard as a rock when he allowed himself to think about it once in a blue moon.
but that doesn't matter, because in a world that wasn't like this one - without the danger, pain, the necessities to survive - a girl like you would never bat a fucking eye at a man like him.
and he's got more important things to think about than how tight you'd feel around his cock, how well you'd take his orders with his hand around your throat.
but your words not only fall to his ears - from where Ellie hangs upside down from the storm drain, she snorts, "you spent that whole time back there arguing with him just to decide he was right?" she boasts. at this, you grab her arm, pretending to pull her down from above your head and into the storm drain with you and Joel. a splashing noise and a squeal echoes through the tunnel as your boots slosh; Joel turns back with irritation, about to snap at the two to keep quiet.
but you're grinning, eyes reaching his from where you stand, covered in storm drain water. Ellie's flipped upside-down, hanging from the ceiling with a grin of amusement, her arm slack in your grip.
your shirt is wet, slick against your plush skin around your stomach and breasts, your hair stuck to your cheeks and forehead and neck. slowly, you bend down to pick the axe out of the murky water, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you shake the water from its hilt. he has to tear his eyes away from the flash of the lacy underwear that peeks from the waistline of your jeans.
Joel's breathing is almost stutters - you’re a goddamn sight right now, and if the tightening in Joel's jeans meant anything, it's that he needed to look away.
"it doesn't matter. you got your axe, now we need to get out of here." he mutters, tired of letting you convince him to do asinine decisions like try and crawl into a storm drain to fetch the axe you'd accidentally dropped. your lips pull into a tight line and he ignores the twist of fire in his stomach at your gaze, the smirk as you try to conceal your laughter. it just irritates him even more.
he watches with sharp eyes as Ellie starts to pull you up and out of the drain; he's trained with a flashlight and his rifle pointed towards the depths beyond you, into the unknown area of the drain. your head is almost out of his sight when it happens: you twitch suddenly and let out a yelp, "fuck!" you hiss. Joel's rushing towards you, calling your name.
you groan, pulling yourself up with the aid of Ellie as you mutter, "'m fine Joel, something stung me."
stung you?
he looks around, flashlight searching the area for any animal or insect or other threat - nothing. but when you're clear of the drain, obscured by the dilapidated road above his head, Joel hears Ellie let out an interested but disgusted noise. his gun goes first, then the flashlight. he pulls himself up and as he nearly breaches the light of the Earth, a sharp sting attaches to his thigh, coaxing a grunt of shock from his lips as he pulls himself fully out.
you're laying, soaked on the hot pavement, Ellie staring at you with wide eyes as you inspect your calf. there's a barb on it with spikes that look almost like a cactus of sorts, bright purple and speckled with yellow. Joel doesn't have to look down to see his own thigh impaled with the spokes of the same plant. he tilts his head back, hand scrubbing his face with a deep sigh. damn it.
"what is that?" Ellie asks, eyes wide as Joel quickly pulls out the plant from his flesh with the flannel he'd tied around his pack. "don't!" he chastises as your bare hands move towards the spoked on your calf, and your eyes soon shoot up to him. "did y'touch a plant down there? or anything?" he asks, trying to ensure this wasn't anything toxic or lethal, or god forbid, a mutation of the cordyceps.
but if it had been, there'd have been signs of it. pulsing, infecteds even - but this was a plant Joel has never seen before.
"obviously" you grunt, shooting him a glare, "I wouldn't fucking touch something growing if I didn't know it was safe." you snark. he knows you hate it when he treats you like a child - you've said as much to him before, and loudly - but he can't help the protectiveness he feels for you. your skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, "but it shot out barbs towards me. I wasn't even close to it, you saw me." you defend.
Joel's throat clenches, his chest swimming with a warm feeling as the tingling sensation on his thigh lingers far after he'd pulled the barb from his jeans. he needed to get that thing out of you, too. you watch him as he pulls it out of your leg swiftly, Ellie sitting back on her haunches as she watches.
"we should clean these out." Joel decides, standing up and grabbing his gun and discarded flashlight, sending a glare down to the axe that sits glinting in the sun. just what he needs, another thorn in his side. literally.
--
the walk back to the house was much less exciting for you as it had been before the little romp with Joel in the sewer. the sun is hot beating down on your backs, and your dampness just exacerbates the mustiness of the storm drain's water soaking into your skin.
your calf is starting to vibrate, almost - although your heart twists with worry, you eye Joel's back and he seems fairly normal. so, you keep going, ignoring the heat that starts to consume you. your head aches by the time you round your last corner to get back.
Ellie's in her own world, kicking a rock as the house nears your sights: you'd landed here early this morning, some people who knew Joel before had lived here: they were gone now.
but it had beds, water that could be heated, and a collection of weapons and supplies stocked higher than your head.
so as you settle your things into the living room, you smile, digging into your pack to fish out the scraps of soap you'd saved, enough for several washes each of you were liberal with it. "so, who gets it first?" you say with a grin, unable to contain the excitement in your voice at the prospect of getting clean. Ellie jumps up, grinning with glee.
"dibs on going last!" she whistles, pulling a dry stare from both Joel and you. she shrugs, "what, don't want to be yelled at for takin' my time." she grumbles, flopping down on the couch, sofa releasing a plume of dust.
you lift a brow, "there's a second tub down here, isn't there?" you ask. Joel nods, eyes flickering to Ellie, "then you can take the tub down here. but only use a bit of hot water." he chides.
she rolls her eyes as he points a stern finger her way, swiping a piece of the soap you'd held out to her as she hauls her bag behind her, "relax, old man." she mutters, shaking her head as she disappears, "I'll let it run cold before I get out."
your eyes fall on to Joel, who sighs, nodding to the upstairs bathroom. "you go." he says dismissively. you chew on your lip, trying to figure a way out of taking the first bath: you needed to inspect this sting first. "no, i can wait. 's fine." you shrug, the feverish heat on your body not helping yourself to focus.
his hands run to the back of his neck, massaging a spot; your eyes are glued to the muscles that ripple from the movement, the long fingers thick and rough from a lifetime of hard work. you shudder, arousal pooling at the apex of your thighs easily. you swallow, embarrassed - why were you having such an odd reaction to this plant? it was making you feel fuzzy, feverish; the only thing you can focus on is Joel.
he shakes his head, "nonsense. ladies first." he insists, not meeting your eyes. you feel yourself clench around nothing at his words, his abnormal attempt at chivalry - you laugh a bit. he glares at you, but there's no heat.
"since when have you been one for chivalry, Joel?" you ask, shaking your head with a smirk. it's sweet, because despite the horror of reality, there were still times when that charming Southern Man that Joel probably once was peeks through the cold, hard exterior.
rare but not unheard of were the times he'd hold a door open, or say ma'am - but it seems that all that remains of his past is that damn smooth accent and the broken watch he keeps on his wrist at all times.
he rolls his eyes but says nothing. his face looks red, and you almost bring up the pulsing at the site of that plant's needle; instead, you bite your tongue. you need a moment to analyze it, alone - and to get your thoughts straight, to - to not think about him.
"you can take first, Joel. I prefer my baths lukewarm, anyways." you joke, a fleeting touch on his arm.
your hand burns when you pull away and his eyes catch yours as if he felt it too. he must decide to not protest anymore as he nearly stumbles his way upstairs, disappearing into the master bathroom, his hands shaky as they take your soap from your grasp on the way.
--
Joel knew something was wrong immediately. the more he'd stood there, debating with you about who gets to fucking clean themselves first, the more he saw you, in a tub, fingers caressing yourself; the more real it felt, to see you touch your hardened buds, play with your tits, to hear you moan his name gently.
but his body was hot. he felt a fever like nothing he'd ever felt before, his mind going fuzzy as he'd stumbled into the bathroom, scrubbing his whole body from head to toe vigorously, as though whatever was happening would fade away if he'd just get clean.
the bath couldn't have been longer than seven minutes.
by the end of it, he was grunting into his shoulder to muffle the noise, his fist squeeing his cock tight as he fucks himself into it, the hot spurs of wanton need curling around his body, choking him. that god damned soap. it smelled like you.
he'd thrown it across the room, its pieces splintered across the ground as Joel bites back a groan of your name, the images of you, soft hands pumping him, slick mouth opening to take him inside- he cums over his chest in hot spurts, the guilt red and hot across his cheeks as the feeling snaps from his chest.
but the fever is still there when he blinks away the pleasured cloud of his orgasm.
and it's still there, burning hot like a snake of revenge in his body when he slams the door open, body still damp and quick to react to the fresh air of the upstairs bedroom.
he doesn't go back downstairs, not like this. not when the girl is down there, probably still in her own bath; he's still not sure what he's come down with, or if it could spread.
now, it’s your turn in the bathroom in the master bedroom - he'd beelined it for the office upstairs before calling for you and telling you it was your turn; he knew that something in him would snap if he were to see you while he was in this state.
but he should've gone back downstairs, because the moment he hears it, it's too late for him.
you're moaning.
it's almost clear as day; muffled through doors as you'd shut yourself from the rest of the house in the master bedroom, and Joel can't fucking unhear it.
he became painfully hard again mere minutes after his first orgasm and has been restraining himself for what can only have been the ten minutes you'd been bathing, but at the timbre of your voice, a cold shiver runs down his spine.
his eyes widen in acceptance. there must have been some sort of- poison, or aphrodisiac in that damn plant that you'd both been struck with.
"fuck." he groans, surprised as it comes out much more breathy than intended, his whole body shuddering as his brain gets even more swarmed with thoughts - you, spread for him, or on your knees, or laying on the table, his cock shoved down your throat-
he hits the wall, hard. his fist stings but it's nothing in comparison to the burning need he feels swirling in his gut and his legs carry him until he's knocking on the door to the master bedroom frantically.
he calls your name, and a weak gasp is the only response. he tries again, and then your muffled voice calls, "fuck, Joel, that plant-" you cut yourself off with what Joel can only imagine is a moan of pain and pleasure. his cock twitches and he thinks he may pass out. staggering over to the bannister, Joel calls out for Ellie. she stomps over to peak her head up towards him expectantly.
he's shaking, sweat already sheening over his whole body. he's sure he looks like hell as he grips the landing under white knuckles, "Ellie, we're sick." he groans, "stay downstairs."
she calls back up, joking that she’s going to leave the house; but she doesn't sound sincere. he barely registers her laughter before she shuts the door, closing herself off to explore the downstairs house without Joel or you to protect her. he's momentarily glad she's not suspicious, instead is relieved to have her own time to herself.
but his cock is so hard he thinks he may pass out again, and he can hear you gasping out his name from behind the door to the bedroom and bathroom.
the door to the bedroom shuts and echoes through the empty upstairs as he tears through, chest heaving. you're still in the bathroom, gasping as your moans echo through the chamber.
he calls your name as he slumps against the door frame to the bathroom, the desire coursing through his body as he shakes with the feverous affects from the plant's venom.
he can't think straight, "I can't come in." he says, shaking his head as his forehead rests against the cool wood. you wail from inside, "Joel, please, I need- I need you, please I need help." you whimper. he can practically see you, the pleading look on your face pathetic as your brows tangle together, eyes shut in frustration. he knows you're touching yourself, and it makes his cock twitch.
"I can't." he says sternly, knowing that if he is to come through that door, there may be no stopping himself. he can't let that happen, not like this. "I'll- I'll be good, just- I can't, nothing's working." you whimper.
"not like this, darlin'." he's grunting through his teeth, but he feels so much desire that it's painful, like he'll die. anger courses through his chest as you let out a drawn out moan, low and full of need even through the wall that separates you.
"fuck you." you groan, "I hate you, Joel, never let me fuckin' have anything," your voice is strangled, a shuddering moan leaving your lips that sends jolts of electricity throughout his entire being. his hand finds his aching cock, slowly trying to relieve the painful desire that shoots through him with need.
he glares through the wall, "yeah, well, fuck you too." he spits back, anger coursing through him at your bratty exclaim of irritation for him - the one who kept you safe, who let you do what you wanted - who followed you into goddamn sewer drains to find the shit that you’d lost.
"walking around, flaunting that fuckin' ass at me." his words fall from his lips before he can stop himself, the desire and haze pulling it out of him as he twists his wrist around himself. "do you know what you do to me?" he nearly growls, "every time you open that mouth it's some shit. always gotta have somethin' to say to me, huh? make me wanna shut you up."
your moan is nearly a sob this time; it's raw, full of desire, and Joel could just about cum from that noise alone. his neck heats up with the knowledge that his words pushed you even further; he always knew you'd be a dirty little thing.
but he nearly falls over as the door to the bathroom rips open, catching himself with one arm on the doorframe, his cock still in his fist. his eyes find you on the ground, fully naked, on your goddamn hands and knees for him.
his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head when you gasp, "Joel, we need to-" you swallow as though you were salivating at the sight of him above you, cock angry and flushed, "you have to fuck me, now."
he stares down at you, his whole entire body tremoring at the sight of you; your bare chest, nipples peaked at you suck in breaths, face flushed with desire and sweat, your own legs shaking terribly. your hands are glistening with your own juices. he lets out a moan.
"please," you try to get his attention again, squirming as though you're in just as much pain as he is, "please, just use me, I don't care, I want to taste you."
he shakes his head, "we-we aren't thinking straight... can't do this." he gasps, even his own words starting to sound absurd to himself. you shake your head actual tears welling up in your eyes, "I think about this all the time, Joel-" you moan, your hand slipping between your legs, the wet sounds sending streaks of desire through his body. “it’s not just the fucking plant, Joel, I need you.” you hum. his wrist hasn't stopped moving, he realizes, chasing that sweet fucking high as you stare at his cock with a wide, hungry glance, begging him to fuck you. he wonders if he’s just dreaming again.
"you know that I want this." you gasp out, tears nearly slipping from your lashline, "don't you?"
does he? how could you dare to ask that?
he groans, nodding, "shit, baby, shut the fuck up."
"you're a fucking asshole, Joel." you whine, "it hurts." you mutter, biting your lip with a ghost of a smile. that makes him snap. it hurts, and you're fucking enjoying it?
he grabs you roughly. the minute his skin touches yours it burns deliciously; he can't believe he had the control to not touch you this whole time. his moan is tandem with yours as his fingers thread through your hair, intending on lifting you to take you to the bed; your hands grip his thighs, though, and soon your hot, wet mouth finds the angry head of his cock.
you take him about halfway before you gag slightly and he slams his hand hard on the wall just above you; your eyes are fluttered shut, a tear squeezing out as your throat opens for him. he groans at the pleasure that courses through him, reaches his fingers, the nape of his neck. you're pulling on him desperately, and it makes him smirk down at you.
"what, you wan' me to fuck that pretty little mouth?" he mutters, heart thundering in his chest as his fingers shake with desire. you pull off him, gasping slightly for breath, your finger still touching yourself as you nod, a string of spit still connecting him to your lips, "yes." you say with a nod, falling back against the wall as he crowds over you.
he's not patient, not right now. he knows he could fuck your mouth until he was shooting his seed down your throat and you'd sit through it all with that pretty hair and grin and hell, you’d probably even thank him afterwards; but he doesn't have the time for that. he needs to be deep inside you, needs to be drowning in your cunt, needs to fuck you down into the mattress so hard you scream.
and you're desperate, clearly: you're two fingers deep, fucking yourself on your fingers as another tear trails down your cheek, breathless as you shift in near pain from need. he resists the urge to coo down at you, his thumb still swiping the tear from your cheek before he grabs you again, this time pulling you up and tugging you onto the bed.
you let out a moan of his name, your face flush with arousal as you spread your thighs open for him, watching with a pained expression as he pulls off his shirt and jeans, discarding his boxers as he goes. your eyes rake over him and you whimper, still not touching him until he gives you permission.
it makes him smirk, "for such a brat it's a wonder you're so obedient like this." he mutters, pulling your legs further open as he quickly stands with his legs against the edge of the bed, running his cock against your soaked, velvety cunt.
you whimper, jolting in pleasure as his head catches your sensitive, neglected nub and he smears his precum there, enthralled in the shapes your nails carve into his biceps as you gasp.
he can't pull his eyes away from your glistening center - how many times had you cum before he'd heard you? he swallows, the flames licking his belly as he pushes his head against your tight hole.
he grunts, you were so goddamn tight; your eyes widen as you try to move your hips, try to slide yourself onto his cock, but he stops you with a rough hand around your shoulder, pinning you down. "stop." he orders, leaning so he can spit down, the slick trailing down to settle right onto where his cock nestles against your entrance. you let out a strangled gasp at his actions, throat dry from your noises.
he doesn't give you time to beg, though, as he's slowly easing himself into you; you let out a yelp at the feeling, loud enough that Joel's hand clamps over your lips roughly, his breath hitting your face, "shut your damn mouth, girl."
you feel like you're splitting open as he inches in and it's barely just his head but you have never felt such excruciating bliss as now, your breath falling from your nostrils harshly as he eases himself into you.
you wonder how much he is restraining against just fucking hard into you - but you're tight after the orgasms you'd given yourself in the bath trying to satiate the feelings you'd figured out were from that fucking plant venom.
you don't even know if he'll fit all the way into you as he inches slowly in, taking a few grunting breaths before fully sheathing himself inside your hot pussy. you clamp around him, feeling full as he bites his lip, chest heaving, slick with sweat. his hand, still clamped over your mouth, tightens against you as he slowly starts to thrust; he reaches a part so deep in you that you nearly scream.
he's hitting your spot nearly immediately as he starts to quicken his pace, hips hitting against yours deeply. you moan his name, "Joel, fuck, 's so fucking deep." you gasp it, unable to think of anything but chasing the high that's been building since the second the plant's venom entered your system.
he doesn't seem to like when you start to move your hips, chasing his when he pulls away; his hand comes to your cheek in a quick smack, grabbing your attention immediately. you can't prevent the moan at the sensation, nor the way you clench tight around his cock.
the moan he lets out is half-way between your name and fuck, as he slides into you deeper, hand wrapped around your cheeks, training your eyes on his. there's a glint of something animal in his eyes: you're sure he sees the same thing in you, the venom of that plant coursing through the two of you, nearly palpable in the air of skin slapping skin.
your cunt flutters at the eye contact, the desire bringing you closer to the edge; his hands shoot to your shins, pulling them up to his chest and then he leans forward with a deep thrust, coaxing tears of pleasure from your eyes. "that's it, take it." he grunts into your hear, hips punctuating each thrust as his tip nudges that spongy spot inside you that curls your toes.
then one hand catches yours as you fist the sheets; he pulls your arm roughly down towards where he enters you as he bites the lobe of your ear. "you're going to cum." he tells you breathlessly, directing your hand towards your clit, pressing the pads of your fingers against it. you yelp in pleasure, more tears squeezing from ecstasy as you nod against his forehead, "yes, fuck, I'm gonna-gonna cum."
"that's right." he's deeper, "cum for me." he nearly whispers it, almost desperate. it's just what you need to push you over the edge: his hips angling in a way that has hot, searing pleasure coursing through you. you nearly go blind when you cum with a gasp of his name. his hips don't even stutter as he fucks you through your orgasm, the relief washing over you in waves of pleasure. you can't open your eyes, your chest heaving, arms locked on his biceps, hips quivering with the intensity of the feeling.
he keeps the roll of his hips as he slides easily through your ruined pussy, his brows pinched in pleasure.
"y'feel so good," you nearly go limp, your fourth orgasm drawn out by the touch of the man you couldn't ever stop thinking about. he's so deep inside you, you're surprised you can't feel him in your throat as he thrusts. "pretty girl," he mutters, pinching one of your nipples and sending shockwaves through you; the relief you'd felt from your orgasm, just like the previous ones, is soon washed away by the newly replaced desire, back again and somehow even more hungry.
you nearly cry at the thought, but something in you still yearns for it and you allow your ankles to cross around his hips. "never wanna leave this cunt." he mutters against your collarbone. you flutter again at his words, arousal slicking you, him, the sheets below you; the squelch of your juices fill the room as he chases his own high.
a particularly loud cry of pleasure lands you with his hand yet again over your mouth, but this time, you waste no time in pulling his fingers to your lips, sucking two of them in eagerly as your hand tries to wrap around his thick wrist.
his eyes meet yours and his jaw clenches as his hips stutter, nearing his own high. his fingers work quick; thrusting into your mouth, slick with your spit, gagging you as he bottoms out particularly roughly. your nails scrape down his back and you'd be more shocked if there weren't marks later.
a few more thrusts and you can tell he's close, so you pull his fingers out of your mouth to gasp, "please, cum in me, Joel," you whimper into his neck, biting down hard as he groans your name. his hand suddenly clasps around your throat, pushing you down against the mattress as he fucks into you deep, his eyes screwed shut, "don' say shit like that to me, darlin'."
but his thrusts are getting sloppier as you squeeze around him, luring him in, the intoxicating scent of soap and him and his musk surrounding your head. "please, I'll do anything." you whine, hand crawling up his neck to cradle his jaw. his dark eyes meet yours and he moans at how earnest you look, his hand tightening his grip around your throat and squeezing slightly, your airway constricted for a slight moment, causing you to gasp for air when he leans back.
your desire has you cloudily begging, pulling at his hair, his arms, his back, keeping him in, and finally he growls, "shut up." he snaps, "'m gonna cum in you, and you better be fuckin' good." he barely looks at you as he lightly slaps one of your tits, grabbing the other and pinching your hardened nipple as he watches your whole body bounce from the force of his thrusts. "god, you feel so good." he mutters to himself. you preen at the praise, your own high creeping near.
your lips are clamped shut, his hand holding your head down from your throat as you nearly scream, his thrusts slowing and sloppy. he lets out a delicious moan as he hits his high. "that's right, take me." he mutters, his chest shaking as he cums; he's moaning loud as he thrusts one last time, his seed coating your walls.
"fuck." he eases, his thumb falling to soothe over your hairline gently as he releases into you. "so good for me, aren't you?"
you swallow, the burning fire of desire still smoldering in your core, your tear trails long since dried, your body exhausted but full of energy. you nod, unable to trust your words.
he pumps into you slowly once more before pulling all the way out, the noise of your slick and his cum slippery as you feel empty without him filling you.
but he's already distracted, his eyes hazy as he watches a bit of his cum spill from your weeping hole, his thumb dropping to slide it back up and into you, pressing against your entrance, your breath catching.
"is it- is it gone for you?" he asks, his voice strained. you don't need to look down to see that the venom hasn't yet run its course through his system yet; his eyes are still alight with the same animalistic desire that you feel pounding in your heart. your feverish sweating, the headache - most of it's gone, replaced with an intense, destructive desire that has you keening into his hand as it cups your used pussy, his eyes teasing.
"no," you moan, "you?"
he's already dropping to his knees as he breathes out, "no."
your eyes widen. in your haze, you're searching for any relief for this growing arousal, the feelings you have for Joel driving you to beg endlessly for him, yet you hadn't expected him to do this. immediately, his hands wrap around your shaking thighs, his breath hitting your bare, throbbing pussy. you can't even think as you card your fingers back through his hair, hips jerking up away from his face as he licks a small stripe over her swollen clit.
you're so worked up that you can't help the tightening coil as he soon dives his tongue into you, cleaning up the mess you'd made between your thighs, swirling around your clit.
you tug hard at his hair's roots, hard enough he's sending a groan into you that reverberates through you, vibrating your chest as you clamp one hand over your lips.
fiery pleasure snakes through your body, your ankles falling over his shoulder onto his back as he eats you out like a staved man. you see his arm moving through your clouded vision and you let out a pathetic whimper as you realize the wet noises aren't just from his mouth on you: he's fucking his fist. his movements make your legs shake hard, eyes rolling back as he sucks lightly before releasing to swirl his tongue.
“Joel,” you mutter, his name the only thing that can come out of your mouth as you can’t help but grind down slightly. Joel's hands are hard on your hips; you know tomorrow as you pull on your jeans, you'll have ten fingerprints marked into you.
it sends a delicious swirl of pride through you as he moans into you, "you taste so good, darlin'.” he mutters lowly before slowly reattaching himself to your heat. your eyes roll back again as one of his hands reaches up to grasp your tit, thumb and finger pinching and rolling as he fucks his tongue into you. one of his hands snakes up to your ass, gripping it tightly and then slapping it, the stinging pleasure making you buck your hips against him.
“Joel, i-” you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp, the overstimulating pressure making it increasingly harder to speak. your toes curl and head tilts back as his teeth graze over your clit, your thighs clenching shut as your orgasm nears violently quick.
"you gonna cum again?" he mutters, barely breaking away from you, his own hand moving fast as he fucks his fist; you yearn to feel him in your mouth, to taste him. “please, please.” you mutter, your hips rocking on him as his tongue swirls, nipping softly at your clit and making you cry out. “please, make me cum, Joel.” you plead, tugging his head closer, his hand slapping your ass again.
and then you're clenching your thighs on either side of him and grinding down as you hit your peak, shaking in pleasure. you grind yourself onto his tongue as he drinks you in, cleaning you of every last drop, his thumb soothing over your hip. he rides you through your high, lapping at you and only pulling away when you go lax on the mattress, legs twitching, gasps ragged and scarce.
you'd have probably passed out right then and there if it hadn't been for his own strangled grunt, your eyes snapping back to him, to where his hand wraps around his own dick, slick with your cum and his own spit.
"Joel," you mumble, cheeks feeling hot as your mind starts to lift, desire yet again pooling between your thighs as you slide down, off the bed until your back hits it, hands caressing over his thighs, "let me taste you." you ask, cheek hot as it lays on his thigh, your eyes begging up at him.
he moans deeply as one had slides behind your neck, steadying you as his other grips himself, "stick out your tongue." his pupils are blown so wide you can only see black. you follow his order, sticking out your tongue as you eagerly lean towards his cock, his brows furrowing as he slaps your tongue with himself.
his hands tug you towards him, your lips tugging over him as you take him into your mouth, trying your best to look up at him. you gag around him as he thrusts his hips forward, your hands flying up to grip his thighs. "fuck, look at you," he moans, his grip tight against your head, slowly starting to fuck your throat, your eyes tearing up. "so eager for me, bet you'd let me fuck you anywhere, hm?"
your face heats up as you hum, unable to say anything as he slides into you, tip pushing against your throat, your eyes rolling back. "yeah, you would. i know you think about it, darlin'. think about it all the time."
you should be embarrassed to learn that Joel had, under more sober circumstances, noticed how you acted around him. but instead you let the trail of spit slide down your chin and onto your bare breasts, your fingers pushing it over your hardened nipples as he pulls off your mouth.
you gasp for air, looking up at him with wet eyes. "get on the bed." he orders and you scramble with weak legs onto the mattress, staring at him, the familiarly torturous desire in you throbbing. his hands push you around until you're on your elbows and knees, his hand swatting your ass. "gonna cum on that pretty ass." he mutters, hand grabbing a handful of the plush skin as he spreads you open, "okay?"
"yes, yes, please." you mutter, face sweaty and stuck with your wet hair as he leans down, spitting onto your glistening, puffy cunt. you're nearly sobbing into the sheets as he slides into your wet, warm hole, his groans just as wrecked as you.
"jesus christ, girl." he mutters to himself as he starts to thrust into you, the new angle setting your whole body alight with the coiled pleasure. it builds fast until you feel like you're on fire, his hands rough against your hips, swatting your ass every time your hips pulled away from the overstimulation.
"you need to come." his breath is hot as it hits your cheek, his chest pressing to your back. he's deep into you, tip hitting your sweet spot with every rolling thrust of his hips. then slipping one hand onto the back of your neck, the other snaking to toy with your sensitive clit.
your legs nearly give out as your back arches, the orgasm crashing over you before you can even register it.
you can't see, blind with the bliss of pleasure; your thighs shake as he mutters dirty words into your ear, Joel's hips stuttering as you clamp and flutter around him, slickening yourself and his pubic hair, skin wet with your arousal. you're so sensitive you can't do anything but take his cock as he fucks you, deeper and slower as though he's coming down with the mind fog just as you.
when he hits his own mind-numbing orgasm, he's pulling out of you fast and finishing in hot spurts onto your ass, streaking up your lower back and sliding down into your quivering core.
your name is the only thing on his lips as he slowly slumps down onto the mattress next to you.
you both wait; it's silent besides your sniffling from the overstimulation and the soreness of your throat and Joel's labored breaths. you both wait to see if that torturous feeling comes back to your groins, suffocating and clouding your judgement.
but instead, the fog clears, and within five minutes of silence and stoicism, you're sure that whatever the venom was, it'd passed through your system. "Joel?" you whisper it, cracking slightly. you hear his head shift; he'd not looked at you at all. you're not sure you blame him, embarrassment creeping through your face. but not regret. definitely not regret.
he whispers your name back, and there's a vulnerability in it that has your eyes snapping to his, searching for the dilation of his pupils, any sign to show the venom was still in his system. you can't find any. "do you- is it gone? for you?"
he blinks at you once before nodding his head, "yes. n'you?" you nod at him, muttering a small, "yeah."
he knows he should go get a cloth to clean you up. he'd possibly have to help you up, help you dress... his throat dries as his now less foggy brain recovers the memories of moments ago; the size of your pupils blown out with lust. he looks over you; he'd ruined you.
another wave of self-doubt runs through him; you were not like him, you weren't bad like him. you deserve better.
but the way you stare at him now, as though you want nothing more than to do what you'd both just done every day with him...
he opens an arm, accepting you as you slide your limp, exhausted body against his own naked form, his arm squeezing you to his chest as he sighs deeply. you nuzzle your face into his neck, your own heart racing just as fast as his.
he feels like a damn fool - it'd been far too long for him, he's not sure how to approach these feelings he harbors for you, so he'd hidden them down with anger and irritation and eye rolls; but now he's gone and fucked you like you were just some other whore.
his lips press to your forehead. he doesn't think he can say anything, not right now. he still feels like he's got a fever, and by the looks of you, you feel it too.
so he hopes the kiss he tenderly lays on your hairline says what he can't: he's sorry he was rough with you. he hopes you're okay. he hopes you don't regret it. he hopes you know... he hopes you know it wasn't just about that damn plant’s venom.
he pulls away from you after just a moment, rising to tug on his boxers. but as he crosses the threshold into the bathroom to gather a washcloth for you, your soft voice stops him.
"Joel." you mutter, eyes nervous, exhausted. he stops, looking at you.
you're just as nervous as he looks; you're unsure how to interact with him now, the man you trust with your life, the one who acts like he hates you, the one you know probably loves you; and then you'd fucked him like he was just a dick, though you wish you could tell him: he's so much to you.
"that wasn't-" you're unsure how to convey it, "it wasn't just about the-whatever that plant was. I don't regret it. and I hope you don't either." you're glad it sounds as genuine as you feel when you say it. you want him to know he didn't hurt you. and you hope you didn't hurt him.
his face flashes with relief, with adoration. "I don't." he says, turning from you quickly.
and if his lips ghost over your knees and leave goosebumps on their wake, if his hands soothe gently over every budding bruise of his handprint on your hip; you don't mention it now.
if he gently and devotedly wipes you both clean, if your hands fold together as he settles back down against you, if your hearts beat together as you settle into the fever nap that claims you both; you just smile gently at his bashful grin.
and if your lips brush against each other just before the sleep takes you both; well, then you'll talk about it all later.
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The Needles of the Black Hills of South Dakota are a region of eroded granite pillars, towers, and spires within Custer State Park. Popular with rock climbers and tourists alike, the Needles are accessed from the Needles Highway, which is a part of Sylvan Lake Road (SD 87/89). The Cathedral Spires and Limber Pine Natural Area, a 637-acre portion of the Needles containing six ridges of pillars as well as a disjunct stand of limber pine, was designated a National Natural Landmark in 1976. -- Wikipedia
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Imagine Furina exploring the deeper parts of the Opera Epiclese, only to find tunnels between the walls.
These tunnels led to crawl spaces beside vents, they lead to small doorways and openings to different rooms and spaces, some places even she’d never seen before.
After wondering for a while, she came across one more room she’d never seen.
Surrounding her on all sides was broken down and shattered Meka. Meka of all kinds. Dancing, protecting, alarming… and some she couldn’t tell off the bat.
Some that looked like perfect replicas of birds and one that looked like an opera singer. Eel like Meka and others.
It was a room of abandoned Meka.
Old and rusted, decaying and ruined.
As she walked through, every now and then one would scream or twitch, causing her to jump and whimper.
She passed a window and was shocked when she saw she was beneath the surface. Fish swam by the window, and an otter even passed by, knocking on the glass.
What really scared her was when a Meka turned on for a second, music blaring from its mouth before it broke down again.
The only light was from the windows the pointed out into the water around her, giving off an eerie deep blue glow throughout the room.
And then she finally made it to the end of the room.
There sat a thin and spindly Meka. It was tall, dressing in clothes that were a mixture between a circus ringmaster and a jester. Under its top hat wearing head as a face that was halfway between the comedy mask and the tragedy mask. It’s legs ended on needle points, small almost invisible holes on the end.
The most terrifying part, however, was that on its chest was an open window, and the inside was entirely filled with water from the Primordial Sea.
To be clear, its midsection was thin, it was made in a way where it mimicked a starving person, seeing its ‘ribs’ through its skin. On its back you could see its ‘spine’ poking through its clothes.
It was rusted and its once brilliant blue, white and gold clothes were worn and washed out with tears in the fabric. Small chips and cracks riddled its metallic skin, but beyond that, it was in perfect condition.
No missing limbs, no missing clothes - as far as she could see anyway - and over all it just looked a little worn. That’s all.
But as she crept closer, something seemed to flip on inside the odd Meka.
“Gnosis Found. Start Up Sequence Initiated…”
The Primordial Water inside your chest glowed a bright blue as it began to flow through your body.
What the God thought was cracks were actually intricate flowing lines to show the Water flowing through your metal bones. Your mask creaked as the joints in your face warmed back up after years of neglect. The mask spun to the comedy side and pressed down into your head, hiding the tragedy behind it. Your eyes lit up in blue as the water filled your skull.
Your joints moaned as you slowly stood. Furina summoned her sword and pointed towards you, though her hands shook terribly.
As you stood, you easily towered at a height of over ten feet. The smaller could hear the liquid sloshing inside you.
“Startup Sequence Complete. Running Diagnostics… Running All Systems…”
She could now hear mechanical whirling inside you. Then, your head turned a full 360°. Furina yelped and fell the to floor, still clutching her sword.
Then your face did a 360°, the face turning upside down then back. Then it flipped, revealing the tragedy mask, then back to comedy. Your chest did a 360°, your midsection did a 360°, and your arms did a 360° at each joint.
The Water in your chest drained and your chest transformed, metal claps coming out from your back and creating a holding place on your entire midsection. The girl could hear multiple things going on inside, going from flames to something metal.
After a few moments, the cage slipped away back inside you. You raised a hand and watched are your already think fingers somehow became thinner. Then they slipped into your thin hand, and flames burst out causing the girl in front of you to scream. Sharp scissor-like appendages came out and snipped at the air. Finally, a few syringes came out and filled with some kind of glowing substance. Five syringes and five colors. After, your thinned fingers came out before thickening again, not that it made much difference.
You did the same to your other hand, and Furina just watched. While she was scared, at the same time she was slightly intrigued. Though, she kept her sword close to her person.
When you reached your legs, you did practically the same thing with your hands. Thinning, fire, needles- though there were only two - and then back to the needles.
Your body shuddered and small metal sheets pulled away on different parts of your body. Long metal tentacles slithered out. Thin and grey they moved in circles. A few had small claps that opened and closed, and some that suddenly flashed with Electro energy. The metal tubes slid back into your body, but a few more with needles slid out. They filled with the same liquids then slid back in, the metal plates going back into place.
“All Systems Functional. Scanning… Archon Located. Persona Downloading…”
You stood still for a moment and let the Primordial Water flow through you, then stood up straight as you were leaning before.
“Persona Downloaded. One Moment Please…!”
Your eyes lit up brighter.
You jumped, making Furina scooted back.
You did a spin, small wheels sprouting from your feet. Your hat spun off your head. You preformed a few hat tricks, before spinning the hat back onto your head. A cane launched from somewhere on your body and into your hand. You even did a little dance as you wheeled forwards towards the now extremely shocked Furina.
“Hello Mon Archon lumineux, lustré, d'une beauté aveuglante et décoré avec amour! It is I, your Exécution Entièrement Automatisée et Divertissement Meka! At your service!~♡”
Furina stared at you before your hand suddenly disconnected from your wrist, a metal wire connecting the two. It flew to her hand, careful of the sharp points and pulled her up. A soft tune played from your body as you twirled her around before falling to your knees before her.
You pressed your cold, metal lips to her palm, a comedic kissing noise playing out as you lifted your head.
“Happy to be of service once more, Madame la mer étoilée. ~♡”
Furina swore she could hear the crying of a child coming from your Primordial Water Filled Chest.
I had the idea a long time ago for an Execution Meka, and finally finished it! There’s inspo from everywhere in here. A little of Spinel from SU, some Mommy-Long-Legs from PP, a little murder drone (I don’t watch it but know a little), also some Pearl from SU, and a little FNAF in there as well (if I write anymore/if any gets requested you’ll know why!) ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
I don’t know, just thought it’d be interesting, plus I feel like if any Nation had something that was made/born specifically for some type of execution directive, then it’d be Fontaine.
Again, I don’t know why, it just feels right. Also I feel like the laws are almost like the Queens Rules like from TWST, a few that make sense, and many more that are absolutely bullshit, so mixing entertainment and execution seems right up that alley! ☆૮꒰ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ა
* My luminous, lustrous, blindingly beautiful and lovingly decorated Archon - You to Furina
* Fully Automated and Entertainment Execution Meka - You to Furina
* Madam star-studded sea - You to Furina
(If any of this is off, blame the translator, same goes for all fics I write that have something other than English!)
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For your ask prompts: Kunzea with Wriothesley? :D
K - Kunzea (power): “C'mon, love, we both know who’s in charge here.”
cw: fem reader ("atta girl"), vague allusions to sexual assault, dub-con, yandere
You're trembling, and you know he can see it.
He has the nerve to smile. He's looking at you like you're a kitten puffing up their tail before being put in a basket for the first time; the kind of smile one has for a poor little creature who's just too silly for its own good. Your grip on the blade tightens.
"Don't come any closer," you tell him, and your teeth chatter.
It had taken you weeks to be able to get a hold of anything that could do some real harm. Watching Wriothesley in his office after he'd called you in for some infraction or another (these infractions always end in punishment; in his hand against your bare rump, in your body bent in half over his desk, in his grip iron tight around your waist as he dances with you and the gramophone scratches through some old love song), memorising where he kept his things in the hope it would serve you in the future.
"Put the letter opener down," he says to you, his tone remaining almost genial, "and I'll pretend that you're not threatening the Administrator of the Fortress of Meropide."
"No," you reply, voice pitching too high, and you make a pathetic little thrust forward at the same time as you take a step back. There's nothing solid in between you - and in your attempt to get away from him and put some distance between his body and yours, you reach the wall, your shoulders bumping against the shelf of books set into the stone. One of them tumbles over your shoulder and you wince as it hits the ground and the fragile binding gives out, the weak glue separating cover from pages. "I-- I won't let you--!"
"That was expensive," he says, mildly. "Another six months onto your sentence for wilful destruction of property? You poor thing."
"I-- I'll serve my sentence," you say to him, and though you wish you sounded sure of yourself, your voice trembles like the needle on his gramophone. "But I won't let you--"
"Won't let me what, sweetheart?" He asks, taking a slow step towards you. The sound of his heavy boot sole hitting solid ground almost sets you into fight or flight - the sound of his handcuffs rattling and his chains clinking makes your stomach twist. "Won't let me take care of you? Won't let me love you?"
"You don't love me," you say to him. He's getting too close to you. You can smell the scent he wears on the air; something like sandalwood and freshly brewed tea. "You just-- you're just a monster--!"
His face twitches. He takes four or five quicker steps, and suddenly his hand is fastened bone-crush tight around your wrist - the one holding his engraved silver letter opener. You cry out, his fingers rough against the sensitive skin - handcuffs in their own right.
"You don't think I love you?" He growls, so low he sounds like a wolf. "You think you'd survive a minute out there without my protection? You think that the inmates aren't just raring to get their teeth into your pretty soft skin and show you what it's supposed to be like for new blood here?"
"You're . . . the things you do to me--" Your voice is clogged with tears.
"Maybe I should let them have you," he snarls. "You'd come fucking crying to me begging for a spanking instead if I let some of the criminals in here lay their hands on you. Could even get your cell reassigned; somewhere close to the tunnels so they have somewhere to take you none of the guards will hear you scream."
Your courage is running out, sand dripping through an hourglass. Your grip on the letter opener is faltering. You think about the side-eye glances you get in the cafeteria sometimes, the whispers that stop when you come near.
You'd always assumed it was because he had singled you out like this. Oh, it's not public knowledge - but there's something easy to work out about a prisoner called to the Duke's office who often leaves it lips-swollen and limping a little.
You had never thought it might be because Wriothesley's favour protects you.
You wouldn't need his protection, if he hadn't started this in the first place.
"Well?" He probes. "Do you want that? Do you want me to stop loving you? I can, if that's what you want. I could stop loving you and watch you get torn to fucking pieces."
Your body is wracked with shivers. The air in his office suddenly feels close and heavy; you are reminded, more than ever, that you are in a prison at the bottom of the sea.
You shake your head mutely, your eyes flashing to the hard-won silver prize in your grip.
He eases up, just a touch.
"C'mon," he says, smiling again. "Put it down. We both know who's in charge here, sweetheart, and it's not the one trembling like an otter with its paw caught in a mekafish corpse."
His fingers loosen up on your wrist and he presents his gloved hand to you, palm up. Those eyes fasten on you with rigid intensity, and you know he is waiting for your decision.
The wolf, or the villagers who are ready to form a mob for you at any moment?
You place the letter opener in his hand.
"Atta girl."
At least the wolf is a monster you know.
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Love your writing!!
Can I request Doflamingo for prompt 19 : "Rules are made to be broken." For a F!reader and NSFW is fine for me if you feel like it (I love NSFW but whatever you'll want will be fine!)
Thank you for sharing your work with us!
Hello, hello! Thank you for your kind words, lovely! I had a lot of fun writing this for you, so I hope you enjoy it 💜💜
A taste of what you've been missing
CW: NSFW!!!! MDNI!!! fem!reader, slightly rough sex, public sex, vaginal penetration, cream pie
Forming alliances had never been your style; they eventually crumbled from your "partners" getting too arrogant and making a sad attempt at stabbing you in the back. With that being said, the Strawhats earned your trust and you theirs. You'd been tagging along with them for a few months and over that time developed mutual respect. There were, however, significant differences that they'd yet to discover.
Despite your loyalty, your moral compass was in need of some fine tuning: drawn in by promises that were seldom kept being the most common to spin the needle. Was it the mystery of what they had in mind that seemed to do the trick? You couldn't quite pinpoint the reason.
Seeing hell freeze over in Punk Hazard together, it was a given that you'd work with them to free Dressrosa from the iron grip of the tyrannical King. However, even with discussing the groups and the overall plan, the overlap in ideas made the whole thing convoluded: the spats between Law and Luffy only continued, leaving threads of ideas unwoven.
Even if a plan had been agreed upon, you'd been with them long enough to realize that relying on such was all too wishful. With that in mind, getting separated from them was inevitable. No matter―you were well aware of the end game, so there was no use in worrying. There was a clear vision to accomplish, and you were eager to make it a reality.
Going off on your own was its own challenge―a true test to your agility, your keen eye, and power that you yielded. However, such excitement for what was to come gave you tunnel vision, which subjected you to negligence. Hurtling towards the palace, being under a watchful eye flew under the radar.
Upon finding a sure way to sneak in, you were abruptly cut off by a large figure plummeting inches infront of you. The crazed mass of pink feathers swayed as a guttural laugh seeped from under it. You backed away to distance yourself between whatever had just crashed landed infront of you. The staggering motions ignited a spark of fear in you, as you came face-to-face with the King of this ill-fated country himself―Doflamingo.
Refusing to die like a coward, you were well-equiped with a warrior spirit. Chuckling at your brave face, he made his observations known, "You don't quite fit in with the Strawhats, do you?"
Taken aback by this, you immediately denied it and add a spiteful, "And what would you know?"
"It's written all over your face," he took a step closer, "it's screamed through your movements." With him gaining ground on you, you made a meek attempt at keeping him away.
Your true desires being apparent in you eyes, you realized you had to justify why you were still hanging around the Strawhats. But, nothing came out. It was as if your soul was being torn between following the safe path and taking the one less known.
He sensed your heart swaying towards the former, and being the opportunist that he was, he wasn't going to allow you to slip through his fingers. Leaning in, he informed you, "Rules are made to be broken. Follow me and I'll show you a world beyond your wildest dreams."
The slick, venomous words coiled around your heart before sinking their fangs in, when it dawned on you―perhaps this was the thing to quench your thirst.
The needle on your, now abandoned, compass spun uncontrollably as you took him up on his offer. "Show me what I'm missing," you say in a hushed voice.
A devilish grin crept on his expression, as he took you by the hand and pulled you close to him, "Of course, my dear." With his fingers gathering the fabric at the bottom of your dress, they clenched into a fist, sending butterflies which could be felt fluttering throughout your person.
Slightly fearing the man who was branded a devil, you couldn't ignore the fire building within you: a dangerous move such as giving into his lust, wouldn't be for the faint-hearted. And you were feeling especially daring today.
The sultry flutter of your lashes was the only lead he needed. Yanking you further into cool opening of the underpass, he shoved your front against the stone wall, leaving a chilled touch to your cleavage.
You felt him pressing himself against you, his breath hot on your ear, "Then let me give you a taste."
Feeling his long tongue trail up the side of your face sent shivers down your spine. Your fingers made a desperate attempt at clinging to the stone as you felt his hands glide under your delicates and promptly tug them down.
Your body tensed as soon as you felt him tease the tip of his cock against your pursed lips. Not even bothering to wait till you relaxed, he pushed in, greedily claiming as much of you as he could. Unable to contain the pained moans, they echoed around you.
Smirking down at you, he was generous enough to allow your body to adjust to his girth, but as his hunger for you increased so did his speed. Quickening his pace, each assult to your g-spot further sent you into a downward spiral of insanity.
Having you unravel on him was one of the greatest pleasures that day had to offer. The delectable sounds of your wet folds slapping aginst his pelvis were too perfect of an opportunity to pass up spanking your ass. Those mewls and yelps seeping out of your lovely mouth were hitting all the right spots.
As your walls clenched around his length in preperation of your approaching climax, his appetite had been satiated enough to give into tempation in unison. With one final buck and growl, you were roughly forced against the unforgiving cold, branding you with a scratch against your chin.
Trembling from the lingering trauma biting at your lower half, the dribble of his lust trickled between your thighs. The flush on your face was prominent while you shakily fastened your panties back around your hips. The reality of what you'd just done was setting in and the dread of not being able to take it back was casting itself over you.
When you turned to look at the man you'd signed your soul over to, doubt as to whether or not this was the thrill you'd been searching for was becoming more and more gnawing.
#follower event#one piece#x reader#one piece x reader#one piece imagine#one piece x you#op#one piece smut#one piece doflamingo#doflamingo one piece#donquixote doflamingo#doflamingo smut#op doflamingo#doflamingo x reader#doffy#doffy x reader#doflamingo#doffy one piece
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