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#she will be just as much of a thot no worries
rathag · 1 year
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Feirthon'gane, my Eladrin Monk, and all her seasons ♥
Feirthon'gane is a wandering (far traveller) Eladrin from the Fey Wild. She doesn't have a destination in mind, just looks for whatever excitement she can dip her toes in until she gets bored. Chaotic good.
Her emotions are intense and go both ways. She can either adore or detest people based off the most insignificant interaction.
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iron-sides · 11 months
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i love my mom :)
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monamipencil · 11 days
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an ode to mingyu's tiddies
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genre; smut, mdni <3 | warnings; mingyu's tits, reader is OBSESSED with his tits, reader has existential crisis throughout the entire fic, perverted thots, a mention of magic mingyu, mentions of food, mentions of fever (she's just horny af), mentions of public indecency, dry humping, tits sucking (m. receiving), face sitting, oral (f. receiving), mingyu is a shameless thot. | a/n; here she is. fought demons writing this. hope you guys like it!
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you’re obsessed. to say the least. 
the first time you actually noticed them was quite early into the relationship. he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, effectively smushing your face against his chest. and you honestly didn’t mind dying like that, squished in between his pecs. nonetheless, something was awakened inside you that day. 
and it doesn’t really help that mingyu loves flexing his muscles. his chest is one of his best assets that he shows off. especially to you. goddamn him and his damn tight-fitting tank tops. you can’t help but watch with an ajar mouth as he works out, his chest pushing out under strain. oh, how you would love to fondl- “take a picture. it lasts longer.” he smirks at you, leaving you flustered and embarrassed.  
mingyu also notices the way you stare, or should he say, where you stare. pride swells in his heart each time you glance at his muscles. and well, he loves the attention. so he does what he does. he flusters you every chance he gets. with his tits.
he foregoes his shirt in bed. every. single. time. the first time it happened was not long after your epiphany. you didn’t pay much mind to it since it was after sex. but then, it became a routine. cuddling to sleep meant having his tits pushed up against your face or back. and, in some cases, you get to fondle them as you spoon him. 
and you know what? scratch that. he’s entirely shirtless around you. all the time. might as well get naked and start living in nature at this point. and well, who are you to reject adam in the form of your boyfriend, mingyu? 
christ’s sake. the things that he makes you think and do. 
the very rare times that you are not bombarded with magic mingyu would be when you’re both outside. being his girlfriend also means being his workout buddy. it also means fighting demons that whisper the filthiest things about him to you as you help him with his workout. well, the demon might just be your brain. 
you keep—try to keep your eyes on his face, sipping from your water bottle after your workout. and he does the same, maintaining eye contact with you as he hydrates himself too. mingyu can make anything hot. even the most innocent things like eye contacts or cooking. or maybe you’re just a pervert. 
you internally sigh, breaking the eye contact and look around the almost empty gym. it’s pretty late, and only a few night owls are in sight. but empty enough to get away with him pushing you against the mirror and fucking the life—that’s enough. this man has reduced into a degenerate at this point. 
with embarrassment in your veins, you quickly kiss his cheek, promising to use the shower quickly and reunite with him to go home. you again fight demons as you sprint to the shower area. you could just go home and shower with him. and have some more ‘workout’ too. shaking your head, you quickly take your shower. 
“is everything ok?” mingyu asks, concern etched onto his face. you haven’t even touched the food he made, and you’ve been like this since coming back from the gym. you hang your head down in shame and shake your head, shifting on the couch. he’s worrying about you, and here you are, thinking filthy things about him. 
his big hands wrap around your wrist, pulling you closer. “shit, you have a fever?” he tilts your face up and lays the back of his hand on your forehead. the other hand lays on your waist, feeling ticklish and hot on your skin. your skin burns more at the question. oh that? no, i was just thinking about getting folded in half and being fucked by you. nothing else haha…
“no,” you manage a grunt out, feeling shy under his gaze. “what are you talking about? you’re burning!” he counters. you sigh, and all the escape routes close, leaving only one path open. 
with great courage and greater embarrassment, you admit, “just horny,” 
“hmm? can’t hear you baby.” he leans in closer, eyes big with worry. 
“i’m horny and i wanna fuck you.” 
mingyu does a double-take at your words. you’re burning up for him? you’re almost seated on his lap now, looking at him with lust-clouded eyes and parted lips, and he feels the waves of heat seeping from you. the post-workout adrenaline is yet to wear out, and he feels so drunk on you. he leans down in a daze, slotting his lips on yours and pushing his tongue into your mouth right away. 
you moan into his mouth, gladly accepting his warm tongue with your own. he pulls you onto his lap, resting his hands on your ass and squeezing them through your thin sweatpants. you tug on his hair, earning a groan from him before feeling up his muscles. mingyu shivers when you caress his back. then you rub his biceps, feeling the hard muscles before settling on his pecs. 
he yelps when you pinch his nipple, breaking the kiss. you don’t give him time to think, pushing him back on the couch and removing his shirt. he breathes shakily as you palm his chest and thumb his nipples. a pathetic whine erupts from his throat when you kiss down his jaw, sucking on his tan skin. 
you lick up a stripe on the column of his throat, and his hips buckle up, pushing his needy cock into your warm, clothed cunt. you nip at his sensitive skin, leaving behind patches of wet saliva as you descend down. mingyu grips your ass, pushing your hips down as he grinds his hard cock against your core. 
you finally reach his pecs, littering kisses all over them but then he pulls you away, causing you to pout and whine. he matches your frustration, whining about his cock. “please, i need to feel you.” you huff, discarding your pants hastily and he does the same. you stop him when he tries to take off his boxers and he looks at you confusedly. 
confusion turns into neediness when your hands wrap around his cock, freeing it, but you leave the boxers on. his veiny, hard cock rests heavily in your hands as you push aside underwear, guiding his cock inside it. but you don’t let him inside you, instead resting his cock against your cunt, and the thin material of your panty is stretched by cock. he moans, feeling the cloth pressed against his aching tip. his eyes roll back, feeling your arousal coat the underside of his dick when you grind against him. 
you resume where you left off, sucking hickies on his pecs. mingyu lets you take charge, lazily grinding against your wet cunt. his mind goes blank, and his nerves fire up with the need to be inside you. your warmth is driving him crazy, and he can only whine as you move against him, his tip stimulated by the material of your panties. 
mingyu moans loudly when you wrap your lips around his nipples. your tongue flicks at the hardening bud, sucking hard on it. your hand plays with his other nipple, pinching and probing at it. the sensation throws him off the edge, and he completely loses it. whining, he moves his hips at a faster pace. you release his nipple with a wet pop, only to suck on the other. 
your wetness coats most of the underside of his dick now, but you’re still dripping. you whine against his nipple as mingyu grinds faster, and your pussy throbs against his length. with a bite to his bud, you pull away, gripping his shoulders and grinding back against him. 
he rests his head on your neck, biting down on your skin to stop his whining. but it’s fruitless as he humps you faster, feeling his orgasm building up. you tug on his hair, pulling his head back to kiss him. you lick into his mouth, kissing him deeper and grinding down harder. 
he breaks when you bite his lower lip, immediately cumming with a loud groan. his large hands lock behind your back, pressing you down, which causes the material to stretch over his tip. the pearls of cum oozing out his slit gather at one spot before oozing out the cloth as well. you groan in unison at the lewd sight, and you rub the cum, spreading it and rubbing his sensitive tip. 
pulling him out, you rest against his chest and sigh. feeling sated even though you didn’t cum. he chuckles, and his chest reverberates at the action, causing you to look up at him with a smile. “what?” you kiss the corner of his lips. 
“no wonder you’ve been ogling my tits for the past few weeks. you could’ve just asked, y’k?” he smirks, brushing his knuckles against your cheek, and you flush. so, he did notice. your cunt throbs again, and you gulp, feeling shy under his gaze. like you didn’t just suck his tits. 
“caught you red-handed?” he brushes his lips against yours, one hand resting at the base of your neck and the other caressing your hips. you pinch your eyes shut, hiding in his chest, and he chuckles again. “i don’t mind, baby. you can be loud about your fantasies.”
he drums his fingers on your ass, humming, and you practically feel his smirk. cocky bastard. you huff, opening your mouth to make a sassy comment, but instead, you yelp when he moves under you quickly. he lays on the couch and repositions you over his face. 
you gasp, feeling his warm breath hit your wet cunt. he presses a kiss over your panties, and you have to grip the couch to not lose balance and end up suffocating him. “you fulfilled your wishes. now it’s time for mine.” he whispers against your core, smirking up at you. 
his wish? having you suffocate him with your cunt as he laps at your juices. (and that’s the only thing that has been running through his mind, watching you work out in the damn spandex pants.)
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tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia
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1K notes · View notes
toxicanonymity · 1 year
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more raider joel PLEAAAASE 🙏
Failed Escape
4k, raider!Joel x f!reader / raider master / joel
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Mood board by @milla-frenchy
SUMMARY: when Joel brings you to a familiar area for a raid, you run away but get stopped by FEDRA officers with bad intentions, worse than Joel. Joel saves you.
WARNINGS: NSFW I8+ dark, violence, assault, manhandling, captivity, restraints, exhibitionism, humiliation, unsafe dubcon vPIV, fingering, oral, filth, orgasm denial, cockwarming, police violence, allusions to very dark fedra activity.
A/N: This is 4th in the Raider series but can be read alone. credits / shoutouts - @romanarose escape ask, touch-erase anon, rope kink anon, many others with thots & thirst.
“I'm sorry," you sob, and you really are.  It's the second raid you’ve been on this week. You thought you recognized the forest behind the house, making it your best chance to escape.  You don’t have anything or anyone to go home to, but you’re hungry.  You’re tired.  You don't sleep. Sometimes you wake up with Joel’s arms too tight around you. If you move, they tighten more and you can hardly breathe.
Those things on their own might be tolerable, but the rest of Joel's men are the real problem. That first day, Joel told you he’d make sure nothing happened to you.  He made it very clear to you and everyone else that you were his and no one else could touch you. At this point you don’t always mind his touch, but you worry about what could happen to you if something happened to Joel.  The guys are disgusting, and not just the ones Joel originally saved you from, as you learned at the stash house.
There are a lot, and they’re brutal with their prey.  They’re not just rough, they’re mean, degrading.  They know they aren’t supposed to look at you, but they still steal a hungry glance when Joel’s not watching.  From what you’ve overheard them doing to their victims, your greatest fear is that Joel will die or get overthrown and you’ll be at their mercy. The day Joel first claimed you, he warned you about those men and how much worse they'd be. At this point, you've seen and heard enough to know it's true.
But even that prospect doesn't sound bad right now compared to what you just went through.  You never should have run.
- - - - -
You stumbled through the woods and when you were almost to the other side, you spotted three armed men in uniform - FEDRA.  You called, “Help!” You were relieved.  They could get you somewhere safe. But when they turned around, it was only a couple of seconds before they aimed their rifles at you.  You fell to your knees begging for help.  
They laughed and talked to each other like you weren’t there.  
“I dunno, she looks infected to me,” the tallest one said.  
“Sure are seein’ a lot of infected this week,” another said and elbowed the tall guy in the ribs.  
The apparent leader of the pack ordered the men to take your clothes off.  They stripped you of everything, even your underwear, and felt you up while they were at it.  One of them stuck a finger in you.   Then, the leader put a single bullet in a revolver, spun the cylinder,  handed it to the tall one, and said “your turn.”  
 "Already? C'mon, I don't wanna fuck another dead girl."  
“At least they can’t scratch you up kickin’ and screamin’,” the leader said.
“Yeah, so what’s the point?” the third one said.  “That’s half the fun.”  
"Better say a prayer then," the leader said. "Go on," he urged. 
The man put the muzzle to your temple and your life flashed before your eyes.  He pulled the trigger and the click made you wince.  You kept your eyes pinched shut and when you slowly opened them, you could hardly believe you were alive. 
Leaves crunched behind you in the woods.  "ANIMALS, all of you," Joel boomed, and you turned around to see him with his rifle aimed at the men.  
"Get down and cover your ears, baby." Joel didn’t even look at you. 
Without so much as blinking, he shot the leader right in the forehead, then kept walking toward them.  Shot another one like it was the easiest thing he had ever done. Not even a flinch. 
Meanwhile, the tall one, the one with the revolver, charged straight at him but Joel still didn’t flinch.  He calmly used the butt of his rifle to strike him square in the face. When the man fell to the ground, Joel straddled him and pummeled his face.  
Still straddling the man, Joel asked you what they did to you.  You told him about the revolver first. Joel took it from the man, spun the cylinder, then held it out for you, but you didn't take it. You were cowering naked on the ground.  “Go ahead,” Joel said.  The man pleaded for his life.  You hesitated, and Joel said “Now,” firmly.  You crawled closer, took the revolver, aimed, and pulled the trigger.  The man screamed and winced, but the gun only clicked.  Joel took it back, spun it again, and handed it back to you.  “Again.”  That time, you shot the man in the chest and the recoil sent you back on your ass.  It wasn’t a kill shot.  The man tried to speak but could only gurgle.  Blood spilled out of his mouth. Your face went cold and you were shaking. 
Joel made sure the man was disarmed, then came over and started putting your shirt back on you. 
"Is that what you want? Shared and slaughtered by those pigs?” He motioned to the three men on the ground.  You started crying, still sprawled on the dirt
- - - - -
Joel puts his rifle around his back, squats down, grabs you by both elbows, and violently forces you to your feet.
"Breakin' my goddamn heart, sweet pea."  He seethes with disappointment.
"I'm sorry," you repeat through your tears, still begging his eyes to meet yours.  Finally, he puts his rifle around his back and looks at you. You must look so pathetic.  Crying, knees covered in dirt, still naked from the waist down.  The dying man stops gurgling.  You whimper yet again, "I'm sorry."
He looks you up and down and seems to soften a little as he responds, "I know, baby.”  But notably, he doesn't say it's okay. He doesn't say he forgives you. You collapse into his chest and sob. He pulls you closer and you're startled when his arousal swells into you.
"How'd they touch you?" Joel asks, then clenches his jaw as though bracing himself for impact.  At least he knows they didn't fuck you since they were all still dressed, to his great relief. 
Joel has your pants in his hands waiting for your answer. You tell him.  
He sighs and squats down.  He wedges his hand between your thighs and you're wet with arousal from feeling his wood.  "Was it like this?" He asks, sliding his fingers against your folds.  You don't know what to say.  It wasn’t like this because it didn’t feel good. He plunges two fingers into you and asks, "like this?" He digs the heel of his palm into his arousal.
“Kind of”
His face tenses into a snarl as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. What does 'kind of' mean?” 
“It hurt.”
“Too many fingers?” 
“No, just one, but too rough.  And too dry.” Your cheeks burn.  
His eyes light up in grim satisfaction.  “Ok, baby.”  He takes his fingers out and wraps his arms around you again.  You start crying again. 
“I’m sorry,” you say for the millionth time.
“I know you are, sweet pea."  He brushes the tears off your cheeks.   “Wanna be sorry here or in the house?” You can only assume what he means.  You just hope it won’t be too brutal, given your betrayal. 
His breath deepens, and he’s slowly stroking a larger bulge in his skin-tight pants now.  You have to think about it for a moment.  You’re anxious to get away from the dead FEDRA bodies, but the other raiders and victims are still in the house. 
Joel adds, “Or in the van?”    
“In the van."
He brushes the dirt off you and helps you step into your pants.
-
When you get back to the house they’ve been raiding, Joel doesn’t take you straight to the van.  There are a few bodies strewn about.  The hostages are all in one room.  Joel takes you to a bathroom away from them.  
He locks the door, hangs his rifle on the towel hook, then turns on the shower.  He strips you and gets behind you, both of you facing the mirror.  He asks, “They do anything else to you? Touch you anywhere else?” You tell him they touched your breasts.   He inhales deeply and clenches his jaw, then cups both your breasts from behind, slowly massaging them.  "Like this?" His hardness presses into you.  
"Kind of, but it didn’t feel good." 
Half his mouth smiles, and in the mirror you notice him scanning your body head to toe. Then he turns you around to face him.
His hands engulf your ass cheeks, pulling you into his pants.  The feeling of his arousal against your front makes you weak.
A massive hand drifts to the center of your ass, and his middle finger lightly glides up and down your crack.   “They touch you in here?”
“No.” 
"Good. They're all gone now, okay baby?” 
-
The water is ice cold as usual and your nipples are painfully hard as Joel lathers them.  He washes your whole body, looking at you like a juicy leg of lamb. When he goes between your legs, you sense his intentions and warn him, “Um, you can’t put soap in there.”
He pauses, bemused.  “Why’s that , sweet pea?”
“It’s bad for you, you can get an infection.”
He looks at the soap contemplatively and says “okay, baby.”  
He rinses you off and tells you to sit on the toilet seat.  Then he sits on the ground, his legs to each side of the toilet, knees up.  He gets you to spread your legs, come to the edge of the seat, and lean back.  The way he’s breathing as he eyes your pussy gives you butterflies.  
He puts your knees over his shoulders.  He drags two knuckles down your slippery folds, then extends and inserts his fingers and curls them, dragging his thick digits against your walls, trying to scrape off any trace of FEDRA. The smallest skin particle would be too much.  It's extreme, but you don’t mind how it feels – physically, at least.  It’s also not a bad view.  His neck veins  bulge, his eyes are dark.
He looks like he has a job to do, and he goes about it quite industriously.  His beard scratches your inner thighs and outer lips. He licks a thick stripe from your taint to your clit, then drags his tongue through every crevice of your folds on each side, making you squirm with tension.  He swirls his tongue around your clit and sucks your hood. Then he plunges his tongue onto you and your whole body feels hollow and light.  His tongue is so thick it's like being fucked.  You shudder and he glances up darkly.  His lips move diligently with the effort and he sucks like he’s trying to cave your walls in on his tongue.  Your thighs quiver and he glances up at you again.  When you're right about to come, he pulls away.  
"Good as new," he says as he wipes his beard.
You were so close to coming and you can hardly bear the tension. 
As though reading your mind, he says, "This ain’t for fun, baby. Not today.  Not after what you did."
He braces his hands on your thighs and stands up with a groan, sporting major wood.  "Stay here," he says coldly.  You squeeze your thighs together.  He takes his rifle off the back of the door and puts it on.  He leaves for a few minutes and takes all your clothes with him including your underwear.  
As soon as he walks out of the bathroom, one hand goes between your legs and the other to your breast, working toward the quickest release possible, biting your lip.  The vision of him between your legs is blinding your mind’s eye from thinking about anything else. You come just in time, covering your own mouth with your inner arm. You feel a wave of shame after you come  - how depraved to get off in this situation. But the tension was too much to take. 
Joel comes back with a duffle bag and a dress. He seems to notice your post-orgasm flush.   He puts the dress on you and it's not a minidress but it's shorter than you're comfortable with, especially if you don't get to wear underwear.  It’s thin, too.  He strokes your inner thighs and gives you an accusatory look. 
"You come when I say." 
Your face burns and you nod. 
"Told you I wasn't gonna let anything happen to you. . . then I did."  He looks guilty, almost anguished. "You're gonna learn to do what I say, understand?"
You nod. 
"For your own good, sweet pea."
"Yeah," you whisper. 
You try to tug the dress down and hesitantly ask, "Can I have, um-" 
"No," Joel says and slings the duffle bag over his shoulder. "Got you some but you're not gonna need it for a while."  
You swallow thickly and remember you chose the van.  
-
Joel manhandles you into the passenger seat, takes some paracord out of the duffle bag, and ties your wrists in a special knot.  Then he ties them behind your head to the headrest.  
He strings rope around the headrest and across your chest in each direction forming an X across your chest with your breasts on either side.  He ties that to the wrist restraints. The rope digs into your neck uncomfortably. 
“Try to get out and it’ll only get tighter.  And I’m gonna know about it.”  
“I won’t.” You’re earnest. 
“Hope not,” he says.  “‘Cause I’ve got a lot more of this.”  He holds up a bunch of paracord, puts it back in the bag, then looks you up and down and wets his lips.  “Looks good on ya, too.”  He shoves the duffle bag behind your seat.  “Real good.”  
He slides his hand between your legs and shoves his middle finger right inside you. His head falls back and his eyelids are heavy.   You’re still wet enough that it doesn’t hurt.  He thumbs your clit while pushing two, then three fingers in and out of you.  Then he stills his fingers inside you.  He strokes the bulge in his pants with the heel of his palm.  His mouth falls open and he studies your face.  Then he flattens his fingers and rubs your whole pussy.  It feels so good, so unbearably good.  Your spine arches.  He takes his time and brings you to the brink again, then cruelly removes his hand.  
“Stay here.” He points at the rope.  “Remember – try to get out, it’ll only get tighter.”
You nod, clenching your thighs together, barely paying attention.
“It’s for your own good.” The tension feels like torture.
-
A few minutes later, Joel comes back out to the van, and thank god.  Your hands are getting numb and the rope is chafing your neck and cleavage.    He opens the door and examines the paracord around your wrists.  “Good girl,” he says.  He looks you up and down as though deciding what to do with you.  He exhales with a puff of his cheeks and rubs the protrusion in his tight pants.  At this point, nothing would surprise you, and you wonder if you should have made a move in the bathroom to suck him off. 
He swiftly unties the paracord then unbuckles his belt, gazing at you in a dark trance. 
He aggressively shoves his strong arm under you, then you make space and he wedges himself between you and the seat. You’re in his lap again.  
Initially, he pulls you back into him and your breath hitches when you feel his hard package beneath you.   His hips lift and his arousal swells harder. He breathes heavily and his chest inflates against your back.  Then he extends his legs to make a downward slope and scoots you forward on his thighs.  You hear his zipper come down.  When you chose the van, you didn’t know it would be this.  You’re humiliated, but your body purrs in anticipation.   
You’re startled by the van’s back doors opening.  
“Come on,” Joel whispers flatly, nudging you to hover over him.  When you rise a few inches,  he lifts your dress and guides your naked ass backwards, hovering in his lap. He presses the curve of your spine and you tilt your hips.  He guides you until you feel his firm tip at your dripping entrance.  "You want this?" You nod almost imperceptibly, then he says, "Go ahead." You sink onto him with a soft gasp.  “That's right, take it," he says. He puts his hand over your mouth and pulls you down, breathing, "yes." Then he sighs "Ahh," as his girth parts your insides.  He has to use both arms and a thrust to bury himself entirely, then your body’s flush with his. His noises are quiet but visceral, softer than usual, but just as masculine.
You’re pitiful, like a rag doll in your thin dress, no panties, no bra, sitting on his cock.  Bending to his will like he’s your puppeteer.  And you might as well have an arm shoved all the way up you.  He’s inhabiting every bit of space in your guts. 
Men are loading things into the back of the van.  Joel leans you forward to spread your dress over his lap.  Then he pulls you back and lifts his hips, making his cock move deep inside you.   The main door to the van slides open and men start piling in.  Your seat is always in Joel’s lap, that’s nothing new, so hopefully no one notices you’re impaled on his massive cock.  
But that’s going to be difficult considering he’s not sitting still. He rocks his hips, pushing his length up into you at a slow pace. This has the effect of lifting your whole body each time.  Someone sitting behind you could surely see your head bobbing slowly, smoothly, but rhythmically.  His hands cup your breasts through your dress.  Tension is coiling in your core.  With his next upward thrust, Joel softly grunts into your hair.  Quieter than usual.  He isn’t worried about being seen or heard –   That’s not his style at all – It’s just that, in the van, it doesn’t take much to put on a show.  In a way, if he can subject everyone to it in near-silence, that’s even more dominant. 
Joel’s hips continue to lift into you and he slides his hand into the low-cut neckline to grope your naked breast.  The driver glances over and does a double-take, then swallows sheepishly and quickly averts his gaze, but reaches for the bandana on the dashboard and hands it to Joel.  They’re going to the stash house so Joel pauses to tie it over your eyes.  
Joel grunts softly into your hair as his cock is hugged tight by your warmth. None of the men talk to him.  They chatter at low volume amongst themselves, and he doesn’t have the best hearing.  You hear his name in a whisper from the back of the van and get self conscious that they’re watching. But of course they are. If Joel hears them, he doesn’t seem to mind.  With each tilt of his hips, his thick cock moves a short but impactful distance, nudging your g-spot.  You’re already so full, but it fills you more each time. The tension tightens, radiating to your whole body.  Begging for release.  The motion is smooth and fluid beneath you.  It’s like you’re riding an ocean wave.  Your breathing gets heavier.  
You squeeze your thighs together, tightening around his cock.  Joel grunts into your neck, then whispers “I don’t think so, sweet pea” and stops moving.  He’s really punishing you. For almost the rest of the ride, he holds you completely still on his cock.  Your heart races and your face is hot.  He’s leaning back against the seat and has you leaning back against him.  You ride in silence, listening to the noise of the road under the tires, pitch black under the blindfold. Joel’s as thick and hard as ever and the swell of his shaft twitches.  Every bump in the road provides welcome friction between his warm rod and your desperate walls.  
You know you're getting close to the stash house when you reach the gravel road, at which point you’re continuously bounced on his cock.  You can feel your arousal leaking out of you and onto him.  Your combined musk fills the van and the driver cracks his window as the terrain effectively makes you ride Joel's cock despite his best efforts to deprive you. He holds you tight, trying to keep you completely still against him. You aren’t sure if you’ll be able to stop yourself from coming.  
“You were bad today,” he whispers lowly into your neck, and you feel a wave of shame. “In the worst way," he adds coldly.  
You turn your cheek as though trying to meet his eyes through the blindfold, but his hand strongly grips your jaw and forces your face straight ahead again.  
“I’m sorry,” you whisper as you bounce there, filled to the brim with his girth. 
“Gonna be a good girl from now on?”
“Yes.” 
“Come when I do, then,” his low voice murmurs into your ear, sending a rush through your body.  He better come really soon. 
He inhales deeply through his nose and puts his arm flat on your back with his strong forearm resting along your spine and his hand firmly gripping the nape of your neck.  He forces you down, and you fold forward with your head near your knees.  Then he covers your mouth tight with his other hand.  His arm presses down on your back as his hips lift up into you.  He grunts as he erupts inside you.  His thick cock powerfully pulses and sends you clenching and fluttering around him, softly moaning into his hand as you find your own waves of release. It feels like it lasts forever.  
“Maniac,” someone says under their breath as Joel lets you sit back up.  
"You did good," he whispers flatly into your hair. To your shame, your heart can't help but swell at his approval, even though the coldness in his tone stings. He's obviously preoccupied by what you did.
You can't discern most of the hushed murmurs until another voice ominously whispers from the back of the van, “He can’t watch her 24/7 forever.” Joel must not hear it or else you imagine the man wouldn’t be breathing for long.  
-
The van parks at the stash house and Joel takes off your blindfold.  He helps lift you off his lap and his length slides out, bringing with it a dripping mess of both of you.  Your insides slowly pull themselves back together as your combined juices trickle down your thigh. You step down out of the van while he zips up his pants and you dab yourself as best you can with the dress, face burning along with your neck, shoulders, and hands.  With Joel facing away from the men, you can feel them staring at you, but as soon as he steps out of the van, they look away and go about unloading. 
Joel retrieves the duffle bag from behind the seat, but he doesn't bring it into the stash house with you.  He takes out a blanket and wraps it around you, making you decent. You shouldn't feel like it's sweet, but there's a passing moment before you remind yourself the gesture is for him, not you. He doesn't want anyone else to see you. He said as much the first time you were there. Joel takes out some rope from the bag, and before he brings you into the house, he makes sure his switchblade is in his pocket. Then he firmly grabs you by the elbow and takes you inside.
"You're gonna have to be brave for me in a minute, baby."
-
we'll pick up from here next time & a couple more asks will become relevant.
Thank you so much for reading and interacting! We've been simping for this sicko for a month now and i really enjoy our banter and dialogue about him and the other toxic joels.
All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @ele-meno-p @internetobssessed1234-blog LMK if I left you off
RJ: @str84pedro
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reveluving · 5 months
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If requests are still open I have one... Graves is having sex with his wife, and Price is watching them and he touch himself 😈 And his wife notice that Price is there but she can't say it to Graves because he makes her moan so much with his dick buried into her.
Are you TRYING TO KILL ME??? BECAUSE THANK YOU?? FAWK. 💀
Includes: wall s~mut (minors DNI!), soft (& slighly mean)!graves, mentions of nude polaroids, voyeurism & exhibitionism, licking, fingering, unprotected sex (p in v)
COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌
Come & check out my COD m.list!
Being invited for dinner by the Phillip Graves was not on their bingo card.
Not that they didn’t like him, he was a good sport, almost like a brother, as evidenced by the good-humoured banter he has with them, especially with Johnny or Alejandro. But if he didn’t always go “can’t wait to see m’wife after this shit ends” every time they work together, then they would’ve assumed he was a casual hookup kind of guy.
So to be proven wrong when he took a polaroid of you—you hugging Kai, who was sulking at the doorway as it rained—out of his pocket, along with the silicone wedding band around his finger, well, it was safe to say they were pretty surprised. 
The SFW polaroid, of course, not the other ones.
Those were for his eyes only.
The invitees included the 141, then Laswell, along with Alejandro and Rudy, who were in town for work. God bless Graves for being ahead of them with the accommodations, not far from his house.
And as their day offs rolled around, you, on the other hand, got to work.
As usual, you did an amazing job with the food, from the proteins that he’ll help you cook once the party starts, down to the endless amounts of sides to choose from—the kinds that were both filling and bursting with flavour, an instant approval from the Southern blood in him. Somewhat enough to ease your worries about your hard work not being enough.
Meeting you had them wondering how a man like Graves managed to put a ring on a sweetheart like you. But the heart eyes they would catch in his eyes every time you were close by told them everything they needed to know about just how much he cares about you.
Of course, none of you could ever forget Kai, already rushing over to you at the front door when he thought he was going to go for a walk, only to perk up even more at the sight of more people.
More people meant more pets!
But back to the two of you; seeing you work together, balancing, with Graves’ more outgoing personality and you being soft-spoken yet perceptive, especially with his friends’ plates, it was all so… homey. No worries, no strategies, just smiles and laughs and gossip. 
After dinner, just as Graves expected, the team was astounded by your backyard patio—the perks of being married to a florist. The comfortable outdoor sofa and the small yet charming garden arrangement; everything well taken care of, plus the string lights added to the comfortable aesthetic feel, especially by nightfall. 
It took little effort to keep the conversation rolling, in addition to the snacks you had prepared with the beers. 
“I’ll be right back.” You whispered before kissing his cheek hastily, much to his amusement. You took your leave, only to scurry away at the door when he winked at you, uncaring at the thought of his friends catching his displays of affection.
But seeing his girl getting along with his friends so well? Her warm smile? Her cute little attempt to hide her laugh behind her hand? Putting her heart and soul into her cooking and her hospitality in general, despite your bashfulness?
Well, it was only fair to say thank you.
Graves-style.
Not even ten minutes after you entered the house, he stood up.
“I’m gonna check on the missus for a bit,” He waved his hand at them without looking as he headed to the sliding door, “You guys hang ‘round.”
And then, Price felt the need to stand on his feet, but not before scratching behind Kai’s ears one last time before the pooch moved to Gaz for more pets.
Price excused himself, saying he needed to splash his face a bit. He’s not drunk, far from it, but it has been a while since he’s had a relaxing time like this. And like the rest of the crew, he was not willing to miss out on the coziness of your home.
But the surprises never stopped when he heard a squeak, your voice unmistakable, just before he could turn the corner, where the kitchen, then the guest bathroom were. 
He didn’t dare to take a look at first.
“Phil!” He heard you yelp, followed by a drawn-out moan that you were trying to suppress in your husband’s shoulder. 
But fuck, your voice was so tantalizing.
Price held his fist against his mouth with his eyes closed, unsure if he was trying to drown out the sounds or put more focus on it. Then, his ears perked up at the squelching in between the fast-paced pistoning of Graves’ fingers in and out of your pussy.
The captain’s morality began to chip away, going just as insane as his friend when he chuckled evilly in your ear.
“Gettin’ a lil’ shy, pretty girl?” He didn’t make it any easier for you when he licked a large stripe up your throat, “S’alright, they’re just enjoyin’ themselves back there. ‘S just you and me.” 
You were already whining, albeit muffled as you bit your bottom lip as he held you up against the wall. With the way he was slapping your entrance, watching you with a knowing smirk, you knew he wasn’t going to hold back.
And as embarrassing as it was for Price to admit, he was thankful for it. Pumping his cock in his hand, following the same rhythm as the wet slaps of your hips. Your moans were just as hypnotic, short gasps and mewls every time Graves thrust back into you deeply. His tongue licked up the thin perspiration gathering on your exposed skin. 
Price was precise with his peeking, only doing so whenever he heard your muffled voice—when he was certain you were resting your head against his shoulder or even kissing him.
Those pretty lips.
But in the midst of his pleasure, he wasn’t careful enough, cursing under his breath while holding his firm grip on the tip of his cock when he heard you gasp, no doubt catching sight of him when he hid back behind the wall.
And yet, his feet were too heavy to move. Glued in his spot.
Praying to see more of you. Hear more of you.
Literally anything more.
“P–Phil,” Your nails massaged across your husband’s scalp, a silent plea for him to listen.
But you were too cockdrunk to even think about stopping him, let alone attempt to say a single word.
“Hm?” He hummed against the crook of your neck nonchalantly, slowing down his pace, but bottoming out just as deep to hear to whine, “Want me t’stop, baby?”
No. No no no. 
He couldn’t hear you, not with your incoherent babbling, but if you thought he didn’t understand what you were trying to say, oh, you couldn’t be any more wrong.
He wasn’t blind to the lingering looks some of the men gave you, not especially the captain’s. And though he had always known Price as ‘old-fashioned’ with his manners, he’d be stupid enough to think his courteousness with you didn’t mean anything more. 
But who could blame him? You were one in a million.
And when he, too, caught sight of the familiar figure before it hid behind the wall, he knew his suspicions were correct. 
And unless you told him to stop, to use your safeword, he wouldn’t even dream about pulling out. Not until he gets to feel it clench and quiver against him. To see your cum, both yours and his, dripping, even after he’s pulled your panties back up.
“I asked you a question, sweetheart,” He held your chin, a mix between a coo and a sneer. He snapped his hips once again, drawing a sputter out of you, “Do you want me t’stop?”
His smirk grew when your eyes darted sideways, knowing Price was still there, watching you being unravelled and ruined, then humming in delight when you finally answered.
“No.”
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
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squishycheekanon · 17 days
Text
Regency Price thot🌹🤍
I am working on Limerence and Part two of both mountain man and the pen pal au by popular demand. But while you wait for me to write those please enjoy this lovely Viscount John Price and his Viscountess.
Price sat waiting patiently, newspaper in hands reading the latest gossip of the ton. “Aristocrats.” He scoffed low under his breath. Being one of the wealthiest, best-connected members of the middle class came with privileges but too much gossip as far a Price was concerned. Unless it directly affected him he couldn’t care less.
The doors to the dining room opened and in walked a butler, white curly wig on top of his head, his hands wringing together in nervousness as he looked at his master. “Well?” Price asked without looking away from his newspaper, an interesting snippet about a whistle or a lady down or something or other caught his eye.
“My Lord she..” the lack of answer was beginning to agitate him, he rolled up the paper and slammed it on the table, finally making eye contact with the butler.
“What?” Price snapped.
“She doesn’t seem to be here My Lord.” He said, gulping with unease clear in his voice.
“One of the horses is gone too.” A maid had said a little too loudly as she rushed into the room with the important information. Everyone in the room cringed, each and every servent, perhaps at this point even the entire ton, knows if the Viscountess and one of the horses are missing, someone will either be fired or end up in the hospital.
A wave a darkness crashed through the room as John growled out “Find me who by the time I’m back from retrieving my wife.” His orders were clear as crystal as he rushed from the room, Simon, his number two following swiftly after him.
“My horse Simon.” John grunted pulling out his pocket watch from his jacket. After years of being married to you, he always knew exactly where to find you based on the time of day it was or day of the week.
You thrived in order and schedules, one of the many things that he loved about you. Loved knowing he didn’t have to worry where you’d be at eleven in the morning. Always the drawing room catching up the on stitching you’ve been putting off, frustrated when the cross stitch didn’t form the absolute way you wanted it to.
Simon, ever the loyal to a fault number two replied quickly and lowly, “Yes Viscount.” He began to rush ahead of John making it to the stables before him and barking orders at the stable boys to fetch the masters horse and saddle. Price didn’t bother with riding clothes or shoes, simply latching his everyday boot into the stirrup and hoisting himself up into his horse.
“Shall I follow My Lord?” Simon asked head bowed as usual.
“If you wish.” John didn’t stick around after that, whipping his reigns and taking off on the beautiful brown stallion. “Come on boy, we’ve not got long before it rains!” John shouted to his horse as if the creature actually understood him, though in his fear he did not care.
The looks of the sky had him worried, the last time you went riding in the rain you caught pneumonia. He remembers how you shivered, how you were covered in sweat yet cold and how you burned to the touch. He never wishes to see you that way again. These thoughts had him pushing his horse harder to get to you faster. By the cherry tree you should be, and oh does he hope you are.
You however had just become done with your rage fit and were about to leave. Stupid Miss Carmichael, one of the bitchiest women in the ton. Not even married and yet she had the gall to mock you about not getting around to giving John a child yet. Joking about possible infertility, the words made you sick as did her audacity.
You had been married to your husband two years now and yes you were yet to bore him a child. Though the first year of your marriage, due to it being a simple arrangement, you spent it away from him. Always avoiding him, even on your wedding night you locked yourself in your room.
Though finally he managed to get you to open up to him, taught you many things, you began to love him. He had loved you however since the first moment he saw you. More so when you had advertently put him in his place after he was rude to a servant.
You had spent the second year, still getting to know each other and becoming one as husband and wife didn’t happen until three months ago. It had been essentially two years of little innocent hand touches here and there, longing looks and John standing too close to you at balls and events just so he could feel your warmth and smell your scent for longer. You were both still making up for lost time, having children was not at the forefront of your minds. Well not yours anyway.
You sighed glancing at the horse you’d rode here on, you’d best get back to join John for breakfast was your first thought. Even though it would take barely a minute for him to see you were upset and demand who had made you that way. You didn’t need to put your burden on him as much as he always insisted that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do as his wife.
Blinking up at the sky, you saw rain clouds rolling in and started to feel the drizzle of water falling down from above. Then a clap of thunder and you instantly regretted your decision to ride out here after your awful interaction with Miss Carmichael earlier. “Wonderful.” You sighed annoyed as you pulled your cloak hood over your head and made your way back to the black horse waiting patiently for you. One last look at the cherry tree and you set off into the eye of the storm.
“That’s it girl yah!” You whipped your reigns, both feet tight in the stirrups. You never rode side saddle like most women do, preferring to ride properly. Just as the cherry tree was almost out of a view, the most spectacular sight came bounding toward you. Your husband Viscount John Price gallantly riding his brown steed toward you.
“Darling!” His yell was so quiet in the midst of the rain and thunder, though it was enough to have you stopping your horse and remaining stationary as he began to slow down the closer to you he got.
Pulling on the reigns John came to a halt, horses next to one another legs touching. “Before you say anything,” you began blinking up at your handsome husband who was staring down at you heatedly, he nods encouraging you to go on. “It wasn’t raining when I started riding.”
You give him a smile, and despite the fact that you’re wet through, chilled to the bone, and as far as John is concerned in desperate need of a hot bath, he thinks you’re the most beautiful sight to behold. He smiles back leaning in close to you until his nose brushes against yours, his strong hand coming up to cup your jaw as he whispers into your mouth, looking you dead in the eyes.
“I’m not mad my love, but make no mistake, once you’re warm and dry I plan to bend you over my desk and fuck you from behind. Keep you stuffed with my cum all day, then you can tell me the reason for your riding today and who I need to talk to.”
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krirebr · 3 months
Text
Caught Up in Your Trap
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Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader
Word Count: 5.4k
Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.
Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist
A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.
Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻‍♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
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Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore. 
He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.
“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”
“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”
“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”
Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”
The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”
They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.
The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.” 
Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.
Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.” 
Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”
Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”
Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”
“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.
Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.
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This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.
The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.
Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked. 
The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.
He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.
Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.
You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.” 
You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”
He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”
This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”
He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.” 
Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”
He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”
That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.
“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”
Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.
He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”
You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.
He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.
“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”
You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing. 
He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”
You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.
The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.
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You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.
You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on. 
Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.
“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you? 
You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut. 
Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.
Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.
He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”
“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.
“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”
You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact. 
“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”
What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.
Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.
“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”
You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.  
“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”
“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.
“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”
He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”
He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”
You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”
He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t. 
You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on. 
When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on. 
When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it. 
As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.
After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”
God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.” 
He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”
You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.
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Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?
You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered. 
And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.
You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”
Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”
His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”
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jayden-killer · 9 months
Text
AFFECTION.
previous part: HOLE IN THE EARTH.
summary: Miguel learns from his mistakes and how he needs the Reader in his life.
warnings: none, some light angst to fluff.
a/n: I'm so happy that my one-short is doing so well that people requested a part 2! Can you believe it?!?!?!😭😭It was unexpected. Thank you so much for the support!! It means very much to me. I wish I could hug you all!!!!💗💗💗
taglist: @geraskier-thots @melodyuu @chiikasevennn @roxytheimmortal @yasmim18fjw @bittersw33t-lotus @voidhope @laysmt @thel0velykey190 @xiangping-28 @emmaiooo @sukioyakio
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Plick, plick, plick...
You wrapped the soft blanket closer to your face. Outside the weather was not the best: it rained heavily, with a few gusts of wind now and then. The temperature had dropped. Maybe the time outside was the mirror of how you felt at that moment. You imagined that no one was on the street, otherwise, they would catch a cold. Your two and a half weeks had not gone well at all. As a broken record, your memory postponed that scene of tension and fear: the screams of Miguel, his words full of venom, and how he did not intend to go on and leave the past to the past. His words hurt you at the bottom, with no way out. And you had to run away as if running away from him solved every problem. Unfortunately, it didn’t go that way. And the problems got worse.
You had nightmares about nightmares, and you cried because you thought for every second that he was right. But part of you knew he was in the wrong, and it was his turn to apologize (let’s be clear, he never would. You knew how proud Miguel was of himself to take days to apologize). This time it was different because he didn’t want to see you anymore. Your relationship? Done with it. Forever.
You breathed a long sigh and your eyes closed. You needed rest, and you knew it too. All that thinking had melted your brain, and it wasn’t good for your health. You had to think about yourself and move on. You would have found better, because Miguel wasn’t the only man on the planet, and yet...he was him. He couldn’t be replaced. Once he knocked on the door of your heart, it was impossible to close it in his face.
Knock, knock, knock, knock!
Y/N turned his head, and her eyes met a tall, slender figure, seemingly a rather large tree branch. But she didn’t have trees that grew near her window. Also, she lived on the seventh floor.
Taking off her blanket, Y/N cautiously approached the window and found herself face to face (almost) with his now ex Miguel O'Hara, in his Spider-man suit, soaked from head to toe due to bad weather. She gasped and immediately opened the window, letting the man enter the warmth of her cosy apartment. Miguel closed the window behind her, then turned to look at her.
The two exchanged awkward looks, but the first to speak was Miguel. He had taken off his mask: his hair was also wet.
"Were you sleeping?"
A short pause followed. "Not really. Would you like...a towel?" she asked slightly, pointing to his dripping dark curls. He nodded softly and sat down on the leather sofa, his head bent forward. Y/N returned from the bath with a dry towel and handed it to him. Miguel nodded for a second time, this time of thanksgiving, beginning to absorb excess water with it. The girl sat at the edge of her bed, looking at Miguel with fear and mixed curiosity.
"What are you doing here?" she finally asked. He glanced at her, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. The towel was around his neck. As dumb as she was, full of emotions and thoughts buzzing around in Y/N’s head, she couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was even soaking wet.
"You didn’t make the last report."
Was that really what he was worried about? The absence of Y/N just for stupid missions? She sighed and shook her head. "Is that what bothered you so much to come here?"
"Not only that."
"Go on," she made a gesture of continuation.
Miguel put a hand over his face as if he was looking for the right words for his next speech. Y/N studied him carefully, looking away from time to time.
"I'm so sorry for what I did last time I saw you. I-I was...I am a dick. A real one" A dry chuckle. "I shouldn't have said those things. I didn't mean any of those words." He looked at Y/N with a pleading look. She furrowed her eyebrows. "You know very well how apologies are not made for me."
"Indeed." She crossed her arms, refusing to look at Miguel’s repentant face. On the other hand, he was looking at her, almost in tears. It was a fragile situation for both sides. "I always told you that the important thing is the intention." Said Y/N with a breif voice, massaging her arm. Miguel tilted his head. He remained silent.
"And you, you came here alone, with the rain and the wind blowing, just to apologize or... Is there anything else?"
The Spider-man got up from the sofa, slowly approaching Y/N, not wanting to rush things. He knew that last time he had scared her enough. And he didn’t want to make that same mistake.
"You’re not a crybaby... Or a burden. Nothing of that..."
"Last time, you seemed very determined about your words."
"I assure you, I didn't mean any shit coming from my mouth."
She huffed. She looked at the dusty ground. "I was serious about...Gabriella last time."
Miguel cringed at Gabriella's name and moved his head to look out the window. The weather had calmed slightly, the rain now mild, with a few droplets beating on the glass. Even the leaves of the trees weren’t moving as hard as before. Maybe...everything was getting lighter. "You’re right."
"I am always right." A small smile made its way on Y/N’s face, bringing her lips up and anxiously peering into Miguel’s face. He felt his mortification.
She gently carried her trembling hand on the right cheek of Y/N and she at once got used to the touch. A contact that she lacked, that was always so beautiful to receive. "Gabriella loves you, but she wants you to move on, Miguel. I’m not saying you have to forget what happened, but now you have to think about healing. Taking care of yourself."
He brought his face closer to hers and their foreheads rested on each other. The two closed their eyes and the only noise they heard was the breaths and the slight wind coming from outside. They joined little by little in a tight embrace, and seemed to forget what had happened. Y/N forgave Miguel, and he apologized for his mistakes.
"I know," Miguel whispered. "She would have loved you. She would have wanted a mother like you."
She smiled even more, taking his hand and holding it in hers, not too hard. "I love you."
"I love you too, Miguel."
He girded her even more, bringing her to himself. Miguel felt well. And he would no longer allow his emotions or his past to go against the one good thing in his life, his present and soon, future.
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absurdthirst · 1 year
Text
Joel's Children {Joel Miller x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 6.3k
Warnings: Unprotected sex, shower sex, vaginal sex, pregnancy, vomiting, angst, mentions of medical procedures, murder, Joel being ruthless for those he loves.
Comments: One night together in Jackson leads to the discovery that Joel is going to be a father again, right as he lets Ellie back into his heart. Only for that to be threatened when you all meet up with the Fireflies again.
A/N: Remember that ruthlessly sexy scene where Joel plows through the hospital determined to get to Ellie? Thots remember....It's us, we're thots.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
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It’s been days, weeks, since you’ve been able to scrub yourself clean. The long walk across the midwest had proved difficult, tiring. Joel’s boots had given out near Cheyenne and it had been lucky that you had found a hardware store that had several rolls of duct tape. Apparently there hadn’t been enough people to loot through all the supplies in Wyoming. Or maybe you had just hit a small patch of luck on an otherwise unlucky journey. 
Now in Jackson, you are getting your first taste of civilization again. The steam is already curling up from the shower as you drop the dirty clothes on the ground. You’ll pick them up later, but you want to feel warm, clean. To watch the dirt and dried blood swirl down the drain while you wait to see if Joel will join you like he had promised he would. It wouldn’t be the first time he had pulled away from the attraction between you, but you hope that he comes.
Joel can’t hold back anymore. It’s been a stressful journey to try and get to Wyoming and he’s struggling to reconcile the fact that he has imagined his brother was in danger, possibly dead. He’s been frantic with worry, only to find out that he’s been living it up in a post-apocalyptic paradise with his wife. It kills him inside, knowing that he’s fought hard to make it to his brother, to save him, and he couldn’t communicate that he was safe the entire time. It makes him pent up and that’s what brings him to the shower where he can hear the water running. Stripping off methodically, he steps into the bathroom and moves behind you, your body tensing until he says “it’s me, baby.” You relax and his hands find your waist, pulling you back against him and he rests his head on yours, breathing you in for a moment.
“You came.” Closing your eyes, you shiver, the heat having nothing to do with the way your gooseflesh rises. The weight of his hand and the feeling of him touching you already has you on edge, needy. Joel sighs behind you and slowly you turn in his arms, sliding your hands up his arms to loop around his neck. “Do you want to get clean?” You offer, suddenly shy now that everything you want is right in the little 2x4 section of the shower. “Do you want me to wash you?” You know he’s fighting his emotions, despite trying to hide it. His eyes are more expressive than he would like and you’ve gotten good at reading him.  
He can’t say a word so he nods, not wanting to start spilling his guts about how much he fucking loves you and he doesn’t want to lose you. He’s lost too much, too many people. He’d die if he lost you. Ellie is better off without him, she needs to get to Colorado, to find the Fireflies. She doesn’t need him. You do. You’ve always been a little dependent on him and he likes that, feeling wanted and needed despite him not willing to give away his heart. It happened though, it’s yours even if you don’t know it. You grab the body wash and start to clean him off, his eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of your hands on his body, washing away the dirt but no one can wash away the sins that stain his skin. “Baby.” He murmurs after you wrap your fingers around his hardening cock, digits soapy and he can’t help the groan that escapes him. “You’re - you don’t - we don’t have to do that.” He tells you, knowing you must be tired.
“I’ve wanted to do this for nearly a thousand miles.” You laugh quietly, sure that it was around Lincoln where you had started falling in love with Joel Miller. Despite his angry and tough facade, you were and will always be grateful for him saving you in Kansas City, deciding to follow them out west when there was nothing left for you in the ruins of the cordyceps getting to the surface. You know he’s lost, you’ve seen it in his eyes and Ellie has spoken to you about a woman named Tess, but you want this, you want him. Slowly pumping his cock, you press your lips to his shoulder and then his collar bone, grazing his chin and finally pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I want you to fuck me, Joel.” 
He groans, soft and low, and reaches for you. His hands find your ass to pull you close while his lips press harder against yours. His grunt into your mouth is desperate and you eagerly open to allow his tongue to slide against yours. “Need you.” He confesses, hand sliding around your hip until he caresses the curls at the apex of your thighs, sliding lower until his calloused finger finds your clit.
It’s like a drug, hearing that he needs you. Him touching you. It’s more than you had ever imagined on those nights where you had to slip your hand into your pants in your sleeping bag. Or, Joel’s sleeping bag. Moaning softly, you are happy that you had already washed before he had joined you, wanting this time to be undeterred by the need to clean up. “Joel.” You whimper his name, clinging to him as he presses a finger past your clit and into your cunt. 
He loves hearing you whimper and he’s quick to add a second finger, pushing them inside of you and letting his palm push against your clit. “Goddamn. You’re - you’re tight.” He pants, your fingers squeezing his cock and he kisses your face wherever he can reach.
Closing your eyes, your hips rock forward and chase his fingers as he pulls them back. “Haven’t been f-fucked in a long time.” You pant quietly, continuing to pump his cock. “Please, oh god, it would feel so good to have you inside me.”
He nods, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand off of his cock. “Turn around.” He rasps and you follow his order. He presses you against the cold tile, helping you arch your back, and he grips his cock. Positioning himself at your entrance, he pushes inside of you. He’s not rough but he’s not soft either, his need for you making him desperate to have you.
“Joel!” You cry out, cheek pressed up against the wall and you clench down around him. “O-oh god. It’s so good. Fuck.” You whine when he grinds deep, loving how he feels like he’s in your guts.
He can’t stop himself from trying to get as deep as possible. Grinding into you like he’s trying to mold your bodies together. “Fuck baby. You- you feel like heaven.” He sighs, pressing his head against your neck.
Preening at his praise, you push back and groan his name when he reaches up and cups your tits. “Oh shit.” You whine softly. “Fuck me, Joel. I need you to make me cum.” Your hand slides off the tiles and you reach between your thighs to start rubbing your clit. 
He groans, not wanting you to be the reason you cum, so he knocks your hand away to replace it with his own. Rubbing your clit in harsh circles and he pushes deep, making your tits push against the cold tile. “So good.” He murmurs into your neck.
Your breathing and the quiet moans are all that can be heard in the small shower. The push of his hips against your ass is absorbed by the smack against the tile and you love how steady his rhythm follows his fingers. “Fuck Joel, fuck.” You pant, closing your eyes and enjoying the ride. You’re guess that he would be good at fucking was proving correct.
He needs you to cum, months of pent up tension between you has him on the edge and he needs you to cum first. “Cum for me baby. Cum for me sweet girl. Right now. You can do it. Just - just cum for me.” He pleads, pushing deep while he rubs your clit like it’s the last damn thing he will ever do.
Shuddering, your head tilts back and rests against his shoulder and you cry out silently. Walls clenching down around him as you soak him in a torrent of cum.
“Fuck.” Joel hisses through gritted teeth, glad that you’ve found your pleasure, and his hands grip your waist, keeping you pinned so he can push into you with a groan. “Fuck baby. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” His words are clipped until he groans out, biting down on your shoulder while his cock pulses inside of you. He knows he shouldn’t have cum but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to consume you, possess you, make you belong to him. He couldn’t have pulled out if he tried and his cum is hot as it paints your walls.
The warmth of his seed fills you and your eyes flutter closed, enjoying the feel of it. “Fuck.” You pant quietly. “I’m going to sleep good tonight.” Sex always helps you sleep and it was an orgasm that wasn’t by your own hand. The ache between your thighs is one that will linger. Turning your head, you kiss his jaw. “Good for you, baby?”
He hums, turning your head so he can properly kiss you. He wants to spend the night in bed with you, savor every second of this time together. “So good. Come on, let’s dry off and get into bed.” He orders, turning off the water and stepping out to find a towel to dry you with. Once you’re both dry, he guides you to the bed and pulls you close, lifting your leg over his hip so he can curl around you. “I can’t say it but I want you to know I mean it.” He murmurs, hoping you know what he means.
****
The next morning, Joel manages to slip out from your arms without waking you, getting dressed and making his way to the stables. He knows you wouldn’t stay here without him and he desperately wants to take you with him but he can’t be selfish. You’ll have a better life here. One he cannot provide and one he has not earned the place to enjoy. He doesn’t fit in here, Maria made that clear and it’s best if he just leaves.
Tommy coming up the stairs wakes you and your eyes flutter open, the small smile on your face disappearing when you find the bed beside you completely empty. “Fuck!” You hiss, jumping up to dress so you can find Joel and give him a piece of your mind.
Joel is saddling up the horse when Tommy and Ellie enter the stables, and you come storming in behind them, overtaking them. He barely turns towards you before your hand comes up to slap his cheek. Combined with the cold air, he hisses and feels his stomach twist at the hurt he sees in your eyes. He can’t say anything, knowing that he’s a bastard who left you in bed without saying goodbye.
“You fucking asshole!” You hiss, not caring about the audience behind you. Joel brought this on himself. “You were just gonna leave? Without even a goodbye or fuck you?” Angry tears pool in your eyes and you want to smack him again, but you don’t. Unbelievably hurt that he would allude to loving you and then slip from the bed like a thief in the night.
He deserves that but he knows you wouldn’t understand his reasoning. “I want you to stay here. I need to go. I- I want to give Ellie a choice.” He looks towards the teenager. “Do you want to go with Tommy or you wanna go with me?” He asks her and she shoves her pack at him, “let’s go.” Joel’s heart thumps and he looks towards you, “you wanna stay?” He asks, stomach twisting as he gives you the choice like he should have done this morning.
“You wanted to give Ellie a choice but didn’t afford me the same damn thing?” You shake your head and scowl at him. “Saddle another fucking horse.” You demand, not willing to stay behind while the two people you care about most leave. “No offense to your brother, Jackson seems lovely.” Your eyes flicker over to the brother and then back to Joel. “But I said I love you and I meant it. I’m going with you.”
Ellie’s eyes widen as she looks between you and Joel, surprised that he finally gave in to those puppy dog eyes he gives you when he thinks no one is looking. Joel nods, biting his lip to suppress the smile that appears on his face. Tommy nods, saddling another horse for you and he slaps his brother on the shoulder. “You’re welcome back here anytime.” Tommy says and Joel nods, helping Ellie up onto the horse before he walks over to you. “I wanted to keep you safe.” He murmurs, knowing it’s pointless now but he had good intentions.
“You have a fucked up way of going about it, Miller.” You huff, shaking your head but you can understand why he thought he was doing what was best. Reaching out, you caress the cheek you had slapped. “We’ll keep each other safe.” You murmur, looking over at Ellie. “All of us.” You care about the feisty girl and you know Joel must be as protective of her as he is.
****
Ellie has been quiet since what happened with David and Joel is concerned. He got up from his death bed to save you both, knowing that you and Ellie were in danger had him pushing through the pain. He has been trying to reconnect with you both since heading to Salt Lake City. “You feelin’ okay?” He asks when you stop yet again to throw up. Flu isn’t really a concern in the new world, there’s no virus that is worse than the one that ended the world but maybe you’ve picked something up.
Groaning, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and stand straight. “Yeah, fuck, I’m -“ you stop, feeling another wave of bile rise but you manage to suppress it. “I don’t know what’s going on.” Your hand presses against your stomach and you sigh as the nausea passes. “I’m okay.” You assure him with a weak smile.
Joel frowns, watching you, and he hands you the rag he has in his jean pocket. “Here, baby.” He says and hands it to you and that’s when you freeze. 
“Baby.” You murmur, trying to figure out when you last had your period. Joel tilts his head, watching you freeze and Ellie stands there, jaw dropping as she figures out what’s wrong with you.
“Holy shit, you’re pregnant!” She cries out, her eyes wide and for the first time in forever, a real smile breaks out across her face. Leaping forward to crowd you excitedly. “You have to be, you’re getting sick now, but you don’t have a fever. You guys totally fucked, and that’s how you make babies.” She teases. Your eyes dart over to Joel, trying to figure out how he is going to take the idea of you being pregnant
Joel’s stomach drops as Ellie is the one who puts it all together and he swears his heart is about to pound out of his chest. One time was all it took and you’re pregnant. A veritable death sentence in this new world, and it’s all his fault. “Shit.” He murmurs, blinking several times as he watches you absorb the news. “Are you- do you think-?” Joel stammers, unsure of what to say to you.
You frown, shaking your head. “No- I- I’m just sick.” You insist, not liking the panicked look on Joel’s face. It’s not like you’ve been together since that one time, there’s no privacy for it. One of you staying awake to keep watch at night. You look down at your stomach and shake your head. “No, that can’t be it.”
Joel has accepted that you are, knowing that you haven’t complained about how uncomfortable the me still cup is like Ellie has done since you left Tommy’s. He’s not stupid, he knows you’ve complained about your jeans being a little tighter and you certainly haven’t been indulging when all you have is what he can hunt or find. It kills him inside, hearing he’s gonna be a dad again and all he can do is think of when he found out about Sarah. He was so young then. He was shitting himself but that was with the comforts afforded to him then, things like formula and a crib. What the fuck would become of a child in this world? Would he be able to provide? His breathing gets short and his vision goes blurry as he starts to panic, his chest tightening.
“Joel?” Your eyes widen and you rush over to him. Touching his shoulder as he bends over at the waist. “Joel, it’s okay, I’m not- we can-“ you swallow harshly and you know that any words of comfort will be nothing but platitudes. There’s no reassurance in this world. “Just breathe.” 
Ellie walks up on his other side and pats his back awkwardly. “It’ll be alright. You aren’t that old. And she’s younger than you.”
The words sound muffled to Joel as his thoughts come hard and fast, imagining a world with a baby. Then he thinks about you as a mother, how good you’ve been with Ellie, and how you looked at the kids at Tommy’s, the longing in your eyes when you saw a family. He imagines you holding the baby, safe at Tommy’s, a proper home. A second chance. The thought makes his breathing slow and he closes his eyes when you rub his back. “I’m here, baby.” You promise and he stands up straight, dragging you into his chest to hold you, his face in your hair to breathe you in. 
“I’m sorry. So fuckin’ sorry, sweet girl. I- I did this and I- we are gonna get back to Tommy’s and you’re gonna be such a good mama.” He promises, cupping your cheeks so he can look into your eyes, silently letting you know that he’s all in.
You weren’t expecting that response and you immediately tear up. Choking out a sob as you try to nod in his hands and lean forward. Needing a hug and reassurance that everything will be okay. You know that this world is rough but you need Joel with you. Maybe this baby can have a life that is close to what used to be, Ellie giving the world a cure.
****
“Ellie!” Joel growls when Ellie lets the ladder clatter to the level above. “Goddamnit.” He growls and reaches for the ladder. “You can’t go up it.” Joel shakes his head at you as you step towards it, five months pregnant. You are showing and Joel spends each night just holding you, rubbing your belly. In awe of the baby growing inside of you.
You wait until Joel is up the ladder and chasing after Ellie, shouting her name before you slowly start to climb the ladder. Not willing to stay below if there is some kind of issue or danger. You don’t think there is, not with the way that Ellie had sounded right before she had taken off. Slowly making your way up, you groan when you manage to pull yourself up and start following after them. “Joel? Ellie?”
Joel looks at the giraffe, in awe of the gentle beast, and he looks around when you call his name, eyes wide. Joel holds his hand out towards you, unable to reprimand you for coming up the ladder when this was the view. “Come here.” Joel grabs a branch and hands it to Ellie before he hands another one to you.
“Oh my god.” You breathe out in wonder as Ellie steps forward with the leaves. You watch as the giraffe takes the offered food and the girl giggles. “Hey there.” Joel watches, a soft smile on his face as you step up beside Ellie to hand her the leaves. She’s enjoying herself and you won’t take that away from her, not when she’s been so locked inside her own head after the run in with David. “So fucking cool.” Both you and Joel look at each other, your love for the girl evident and you know that you want to go back to Jackson, make your little family safe, you, Joel, Ellie and the baby.
After admiring the giraffe, Joel helps you down and you’re moving through the city when Ellie mentions his scar. “I, uh, it was me. I’m the guy who missed.” He reveals, knowing he’s never spoken to you about this. This was his secret, the shame he carried since he failed. He was barely living after they stitched him back up. Physically he was recovering, emotionally, he was never the same. Until he met you and Ellie.
Your hand covers your stomach protectively, knowing that if he had succeeded, your baby wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be here, you would have died in Kansas City. Sighing softly, all you can do is watch as he takes the rifle off his shoulder and leans against an old concrete barrier, obviously wanting to get it off his chest. “There’s no story.” He tells you as Ellie sits beside him, you on his other side. “Sarah died and I couldn’t see the point anymore. Simple as that. And I wasn’t scared either. I was ready.” He looks off, not making eye contact with either of you and you know he’s reliving the past. “I couldn’t have been more ready. When I-“ he pauses, ducking his head down and looking back up. “When I….” He gestures towards his head with his fingers pointed like a gun and your heart breaks, imaging the pain he had been in. “-went to pull the trigger, I-I flinched.” He looks slightly shocked that he had. “Still don’t know why.” Tears slip down your face and you want to tell him that you know why he flinched, he wasn’t done living yet.
“Well I'm glad you didn’t do…that.” Ellie offers Joel with a small smile and Joel nods, “me too.” He sighs and looks over at you, his eyes dropping down to your stomach. Ellie bites her lip, “I guess time heals all wounds.” 
Joel shakes his head, his eyes meeting hers, “it wasn’t time that did it.” His eyes are watery and your heart breaks.
Reaching out, you brush his hair back and lean in, pressing your lips to his scar softly before you pull away. “I’m glad that you did heal.” You murmur softly.
Joel reaches for your hand, squeezing it, and he lets his face say what his mouth cannot. Knowing you’ll know what he means. “Come on.” He pats his knees and stands up, taking your hand to help you stand. “You know what I’m in the mood for? Some shitty puns.” He says and squeezes your hand as he looks at Ellie who is eagerly pulling the book from her backpack.
You watch as she opens the book and starts the read. “People are making jokes about the apocalypse like there’s no tomorrow.” Joel frowns slightly and Ellie grins. “Too soon?” She asks and he shakes his head, “no, it’s topical.” 
She laughs, “oh I love this one.” She bends down and then pops back up. “Moon rocks taste better than Earth rocks. Why?” Joel doesn’t answer but he scratches his head. “‘Cause their meteor.” You groan alongside Joel. “Oh that’s terrible.”
“Zero out of ten.” Joel snorts, bringing your hand up to swing it between you. That’s when the grenade is thrown and Ellie shouts “Joel!” He spins, pushing you behind him to protect you and you’re both thrown back by the explosion. Joel shouts your name through the smoke and he’s trying to protect you and Ellie when the gun comes down on the back of his head and it all goes dark.
****
Groaning, you open your eyes slowly, lids fluttering and you wince at the pain in the back of your skull. “Easy.” Turning, you see a woman, darker skin with a sharp gaze about her. Eyeing you intensely and she seems relieved that you are awake. 
“Where-“ you croak, “Joel? Ellie.”
Marlene steps forward, holding a glass of water for you. “They’re fine. Ellie is being prepped for surgery and Joel is with her. My name is Marlene. I - Joel wanted me to be here when you woke up.” She says, offering you the cup of water after you sit up. Her eyes drop down to your bump and back to your face. “How- how far along are you?” She asks, stepping back once you have the glass of water.
“Around five months.” You take a sip of the water, relieved at the cool liquid as it goes down your throat. You wish that Joel was here, but being with Ellie is his priority. Just like she needs to be right now. You look back at Marlene. “It’s Joel’s.” You offer quietly, rubbing your stomach. “The baby.”
Marlene’s eyes widen slightly, having known that Joel did not like making connections and that’s possibly the biggest connection two humans could have. “Congratulations.” Marlene says, “I’ll go find Joel but in the meantime, I have a nurse who’s going to take some blood and she has vitamins to give you that you can take.” Marlene offers and you nod, grateful for the care. “I’ll go see how Ellie and Joel are getting along.” Marlene says and walks out of the room. 
“Do you think she will work?” Jackie, the nurse asks once she follows Marlene out of the room. 
“She’s our back up plan.” Marlene confirms and makes her way to Joel’s room. He wakes up just as she arrives and he winces as he tries to sit up.
“Welcome to the fireflies.” Marlene tells him, making him quickly roll over. “Easy. Ya got hit pretty hard.” Her hands are folded over her stomach and she smirks. “Patrol didn’t know who you were.” 
Joel groans quietly and looks over at her. “Where’s Ellie?” 
Marlene answers quickly. “She wasn’t hurt. Not even a scratch.” She sounds impressed, she is impressed. “She’s mostly worried about you.”
His head is throbbing and he sits up on the gurney. “Where is she?” He says your name, worried that he can’t see you either. 
“We lost half our crew crossing the country. I had five men whose only job was to protect me. I still almost got killed. How’d you do it? With a pregnant woman too?” Marlene snorts and Joel grips the side of the bed, shaking his head. 
“It was all her.” He says truthfully, knowing he couldn’t have made it without you. “Ellie fought like hell to get here.” 
Marlene shakes her head, “she would’ve been dead on day one. You are the one person I never wanted to be in debt to. But I owe you. We all owe you.” 
Joel shakes his head, “just take me to them. I need to see them.” 
Marlene stares at him for a moment, “I can’t. Ellie’s being prepped for surgery and-” She says your name, “she’s having her blood drawn for testing for the baby.” 
Joel frowns, “what surgery?” 
Marlene bites her lip, “our doctor, he thinks that the Cordyceps in Ellie has grown with her since birth-” Joel interrupts her, “why is she in surgery?” 
Marlene continues, “it produces a kind of chemical messenger. It makes normal Cordyceps thinks that she’s Cordyceps. It’s why she’s immune. He’s gonna remove it from her, multiply the cells in a lab, produce those chemical messengers, and then we can give it to everyone. He thinks it could be a cure, Joel. We think that it happened when her mother was bitten while Ellie was still attached to her umbilical cord. We - we want to see if it’s possible that we could recreate that in case-” 
Joel cuts her off, his jaw clenched, “in case what?” He is hearing that they want you to be bit after you give birth to his child. 
“A cure.” Marlene reminds him but he shakes his head, “Cordyceps grow inside the brain.” 
Marlene nods, “it does.” 
Joel shakes his head, “find someone else. Find anyone else. Not Ellie. Not the mother of my child.” He growls. 
“There is no one else. We didn’t tell them. We didn’t cause them any fear. Your child will be safe. We will make sure the mother is well looked after until she gives birth.” 
Joel shakes his head and stands up, “no. No, you take me to her. You take me to her right now!” He yells, desperate to see you, to save you and Ellie from this nightmare. The guard hits him in the stomach with the butt of his rifle and Joel falls down with a grunt.
“Please, you don’t understand.” Joel tries to reason with Marlene but she’s unsympathetic. 
“I do. I was there when she was born, Joel. I promised her mother I would save her child. I promised.” She pauses. “So I do understand. I’m the only one who understands. I’m sorry. I have no other choice.” She wants this to be over, for the world to go back to what it was and Ellie, and your baby might be the cure. She will sacrifice anyone for a cure. 
Joel looks up at her from the ground, worry and panic swirling in his gut. “I do.” He assures her, making Marlene realize she can’t leave Joel alive. 
She nods and speaks to the guards, “walk him out to the Highway, leave him there with his pack.” Her guards will know that she means for them to take him out of hearing range of the pediatric ward where you are being held and put a bullet in his brain. “Give him these.” She hands off the knife Ellie carried along with the necklace you wore and looks back at Joel. “If he tries anything, shoot him.”
Joel's heart pounds in his chest as he is led down the hall, his mind racing as he tries to figure out how he can save you and Ellie. His heart races and he imagines leaving you and his child, Ellie, here with the fireflies. He swallows harshly, stumbling and trying to slow down. "I didn't hear anyone say stop." The guard says when Joel looks at the sign, "which way?" He is pushed towards the stairwell and Joel imagines not being there for his children. He can't fail them. He can't fail you. 
"The fuck are you doin'? Keep walking." The firefly orders and Joel snaps, unable to let you and Ellie be the burden of this so-called cure. He can't lose anyone else. "I said keep-" Joel spins, elbowing the prick and grabbing his gun, making quick work of shooting them and he grabs the knife and necklace, determined to save his girls.
“Hello?” It’s been a long time since you’ve had a bed and the hospital gurney is actually comfortable. One of the ones obviously used in the labor and delivery ward and for a moment, you imagine actually being in a hospital for the birth. The nurse had told you that she would be right back, going to get Joel and you are starting to worry. There’s muffled sounds from the floors below, and you can’t quite make it out but it’s making you uneasy. “Anyone there?”
Joel is ferocious in his efforts to get to you and Ellie. He knows he has to get to Ellie first, stop the surgery, and he shoots down anyone that gets in his way. When he enters the operating room, he quickly shoots the doctor and the nurses scream, “unhook her. Move!” He demands and the nurses hands shake. “Cover her arm. Fast.” The nurse nods and covers her arm. “Turn around.” He demands and he carries her in his arms as he shouts your name, needing to find you.
“Joel?” You hold your stomach as you heft your weight off the gurney, hearing Joel scream your name. He sounds panicked, like he does when he’s lost sight of you or Ellie when there is danger nearby. That’s never a good sound to hear from Joel. “Joel! I’m here.” You shout back, slipping into your shoes so you can walk to the door of the room you are in.
He hears your voice and he’s relieved, eyes softening when he sees you, but yours widen when you see him carrying Ellie. “What -?” 
Joel shakes his head, “no time. We gotta go. Come on baby. Let’s go.” He demands and leads you towards the elevator.
You’ve learned that when Joel demands you move, you move. You don’t ask him again, instead you are right behind him, wondering what the hell is going on. You know how important this mission was to Ellie, to be able to ‘save the world’. So for Joel to be carrying her around in a surgical gown makes you wonder if the hospital is under attack. 
“What happened?” You ask and Joel can’t speak yet, too overwhelmed and relieved that you’re alive. That Ellie is okay. He looks at Ellie, knowing he’s messed up her plans for his own selfish desires but he couldn’t let her die for this. He sees the car and rushes forward until he hears Marlene. 
“You can’t keep them safe forever.” She says, aiming her gun towards him and he jerks his chin for you to get behind him. “No matter how hard you try, no matter how many people you kill, she’s gonna grow up Joel. And then you’ll die, she’ll leave. Your kid will be left without a father. Then what? How long until your kids are torn apart by infected or murdered by raiders? Because they live in a broken world that you could have saved.” 
Joel stares at her, “maybe but it isn’t for you to decide.” 
Marlene shakes her head, “or you. Your children had the chance to save the world. If Ellie died…we had the baby. A chance to try again.” Marlene says and you gasp, hand lowering to your stomach, unsure of what she means but you know it’s bad. “So what would Ellie decide? ‘Cause I think she’d wanna do what’s right.” Joel stares at the floor, unable to process this when Marlene says “and you know it. It’s not too late. Even now, even after what you’ve done. We have a second chance.” She looks towards you, “we can still find a way.” Joel looks down at Ellie before his eyes meet yours, knowing he couldn’t give this up. It’s his children. He couldn’t save Sarah but he can save Ellie, save you and his unborn child.
You watch Joel as he battles himself, looking down at Ellie and then over at you. You shake your head, knowing that anything that would lead to Ellie dying is not a choice you want to pick. His jaw ticks and he looks back at Marlene. Making you cry out in surprise when he pulls the trigger of the gun that he is holding under Ellie’s legs. “Get in the car.” Joel urges you as he turns and rushes towards the vehicle. 
Marlene groans as she curls into herself and he lays Ellie down on the backseat. He strides back over to Marlene, pulling his gun out, and he aims it at her, “you’ll just come after her.” He says and shots her in the head.
Swallowing harshly, you look back at Ellie laying across the seats. Whatever happened was bad. Joel connects the battery and slams the hood of the car shut, making you jump in surprise before he climbs behind the wheel and turns the key. “What happened?” You ask quietly, needing to know what is happening. From what you understood, Marlene was important to Ellie and it was her that had tasted Joel with bringing Joel here. 
Joel shakes his head, not able to talk about it just yet. He wants to get you out of here so he starts the car and makes his way out of the parking garage, eyes scanning for any more fireflies and he’s on edge. When he’s out on the highway and he reaches for your hand, lifting it to press a kiss to it. “Baby. Oh fuck. I- I thought I was gonna lose you all.”
You hear the way his voice shakes and you squeeze his hand. “You couldn’t lose us.” You promise him, even though you have no idea what was actually happening in that hospital. Craning your neck, you look back at Ellie, “we need to find her some clothes. For when she wakes up.” 
He nods, tears stinging in his eyes, “baby. She - she told me - Ellie’s mom was bitten before she was born. It’s why Ellie is immune and they - they wanted to take Ellie’s brain out to find a cure and if that failed, they were gonna use you - they wanted to use our baby as a second chance.” He chokes, a tear sliding down his cheek as he imagines being unable to help Ellie and you.
“Shit.” You hiss, furious that they had been so cruel. You would have never consented to hurting your child or allowing Ellie to be killed in hopes of a cure. “Then I’m glad you shot her.” You snort. “A bullet is too good for her. That’s unethical.”
Joel squeezes your hand, “and you would’ve been killed. I- fuck- I love you. I love you, baby.” He confesses for the first time, squeezing the steering wheel with his other hand as he makes his way to Tommy’s in hope of having a life with his family.
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Note
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What's up, Buck?
AN: And another late answer to an ask! Hahahaha. Thank you for the thot, Em. He looks so grumpy here!
Unbeta'd ficlet ahoy!
Divider by @firefly-graphics
Masterlist
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Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader
Word Count: 1.4k
CW: Antagonistic work colleagues to lovers, Grumpy Bucky, Canon typical violence, confessions of feelings, idiots in lust, kissing, implied future smut.
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“What’s up, Buck?” You called out with a smile as you passed the metallic staring machine in the corridor. He didn’t answer you. He never did. Just flared his nostrils and kept on staring, while you kept on walking.
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“What’s up, Buck?” You gave him a jovial shoulder bump as you found him in the communal lounge-slash-kitchen, holding a bowl of cheerios and milk in his left hand and shovelling it into his mouth with the spoon in his right. He scowled as some of the milk sloshed, but said nothing.
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“What’s up, Buck?” You gave him a wave as you strode onto the quinjet, passing where he and Steve were sitting sorting out their equipment, as you followed Nat to the cockpit. He tossed his knife over and over in his hand, glaring at you, but as usual, stayed silent.
“Quit bugging him,” Nat chided.
“But he’s gotta answer me sometime. How many missions can we get through where he doesn’t even exchange a single word with me? I’m determined to get him to say something, even if it’s just ‘fuck off’ or ‘shut the fuck up’. It’s not normal, Nat.”
“Yasha isn’t normal, скворец. Who would be after everything he’s been through?
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right…it’s just that I get on with everyone, Natty. I don’t know why he’s so grumpy with me.”
“He just doesn’t know you yet. It’s gonna take him a while to warm up. If you haven’t noticed he doesn’t really talk to me much.”
“Aah, yes, but he does talk to you.”
“You just want him to notice you crushing on him. I see those eyes you make at him.”
You stuck out your tongue at her, but Nat just shook her head, put on her headset, and started her pre-flight checks. You sat back and tried not to ruminate on the intriguing, and very hot brunette super-soldier.
—----
You pulled your knife out of the chest of the goon you’d just downed and jogged down the corridor in front of you. 
“I’m on my way guys, wait for me to catch up…”
“Don’t worry, Starling. We won’t leave you behind.” You heard the smile in Steve’s voice over the comms and rolled your eyes to yourself. The daft nickname that Nat had given you, after she found you doing karaoke exactly once, had now been adopted by the rest of the team. Well, almost the rest of the team.
You saw a partially closed door ahead of you and pushed it open, coming face to face with Bucky’s rifle. You skidded to a halt and raised your hands in the air.
“Heeeeeeey! What’s up, Buck? Apart from your gun, that is.” You stuck out your index fingers and pressed it to the end of the barrel, pushing it away from you. Bucky glared. You tried not to notice how sexy he looked all battle dishevelled.
“Come on, man. Lighten up.”
“I almost shot you.” It took you a moment to decipher the growl he made and then another moment to process that he’d actually spoken to you. 
You grinned and made a theatrical stagger towards the closest wall, clutching a hand to your chest.
“Be still my beating heart! He speaks!”
Some of the tension went out of Bucky’s body and he lowered his rifle to point at the floor.
“Are you always so blasé?”
“Are you always so stoic?
He rolled his eyes and started to walk away from you down the corridor. You trotted behind him, trying to keep up with his long-legged stride, and turned off your comms transmitter.
“Is that why you don’t like me? You don’t think I take anything seriously?”
He stopped short and you almost ran into his back.
“I don’t ‘not like’ you.” He turned and looked you over.
“Could’ve fooled me, Sergeant Barnes. This is the first time you’ve ever spoken to me.”
“This is the first time you’ve said something that isn’t that ridiculous phrase.”
You pinched your nose, feeling a headache coming on.”
“You do realise that if you’d done anything other than just stare at me, all haughty and serious, I’d have expanded my vocabulary.”
“Maybe I didn’t know what to say. What was I supposed to say?”
“Anything, Bucky. I don’t know. Maybe ‘Nothing, just chilling’, or ‘the value of the Yen against the Dollar’. Anything. We could’ve been getting along all this time, you know.”
“Anything, Starling? What if what I wanted to say wasn’t appropriate?” He took a step towards you, backing you against the wall. His expression had changed. “What if I didn’t want to ‘get along’? What if I want something different? I’ve seen the way you look at me. I know what you want. Maybe we want the same thing?”
His eyes were dark and for some reason you were transfixed by the way his tongue popped out from between his lips.
“Umm. Erm. Is it warm in here? Just me? Maybe we should be going, you know, catch up with the others.”
“Don’t change the subject, not when we’re finally talking, скворец. You want to ask me, don’t you? You want to ask me that stupid question one more time to find out what I really want to say, don’t you?”
His breath was warm on your face, his eyes hypnotising you. He was standing so close his knee was almost slotted between your thighs. All you’d have to do would be to drop slightly and you could grind against it and…
“What… what’s up, Buck?” You barely recognised the croaky voice that came out of your throat.
Bucky’s right hand came up and cupped your face, thumb moving over your cheekbone and he dropped his head even closer.
“My blood, скворец, every time you talk to me. That’s what’s up. I want to kiss you to stop you saying it, and then carry on kissing you to find out what other things your lips will say…”
He moved his lower body closer, pressing his hips against you and heat suffused your skin at what you felt.
“And when you prance around in those tiny sleep shorts that barely cover your ass, guess what else is up?”
You drew a ragged breath into your lungs, feeling dizzy from the adrenaline coursing through your body.
“Do you understand now why I didn’t respond?”
The gap between you was infinitesimal. You were so close you were breathing the same air and at some point your hands had come up to rest on the leather of his tack jacket
“You should have said it, Buck. You should have said all those things, and we could have been doing this sooner.”
You closed the gap.
At the first touch of his lips against yours, both dry and chapped due the exertion of the mission, your eyelids closed allowing you to just feel. His mouth moved over yours, not softly, but not aggressively either, like he was trying to hold back. Your fingers curled into his jacket and the firm material creaked. You could smell leather, and gunpowder, and steel, and Bucky’s sweat. 
You wanted more. Wanted to drown in it. Drown in him. 
You wanted to run your tongue up his chest and taste him, you wanted to wind your fingers into his hair and clutch him to your breast, you wanted…
“Starling? Buck? Where are you guys? Did you stumble into some more trouble? We’re waiting for you at the jet.”
Steve’s voice burst in over the comms, pulling you both out of the moment. Bucky stepped back from you and pressed his finger to his ear.
“We’re here, Stevie. Don’t worry, be with you in a few minutes.”
You lent against the wall, and grabbed your water bottle, taking a healthy slug and giving yourself a few moments to collect yourself. 
“Come on, Starling. You heard the man. Let’s move out.”
You gave him a sharp nod and strode forward. You got a few steps in front of him when you felt Bucky grab you, his cool left hand feeling blissful against your heated skin.
“Oh, and our conversation isn’t over, doll. Not by a long shot.”
You gave him a coy smile.
“Your room or mine?”
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Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @tuiccim @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @talia-rumlow @poppunksnowwhite
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frogchiro · 1 year
Note
That Skyrim au thing you did a while back made me cream. But also, what if the reader is like betrothed and the guy she’s betrothed to is awful so the guys like kill him or something to keep the reader forever.
Im sorry this is probably so confusing but Im having a brain rot and I can’t think straight lmaoooo
Oh my god😭 i really didn't expect for my silly Skyrim thot to be so popular but I'm so happy ;;
Also I'm sorry in advance but I went with Graves on this bc kinda obsessive Lord!Graves is scratching an itch and I have many thoughts about him and tavern maid reader ;;
also if you desire so, it can be the same Lord Graves as the one here
fem!reader, not really nsfw but general perviness, obsessive Philip Graves (he's a lil delusional ;;), reader is implied to be chubby, gore & mentions of murder but nothing graphic really, creepy guy but dw, philip deals with him <3
OKAY SO as you can probably imagine, your arranged marriage to the local blacksmith was....anything than out of love or even affection, it was purely out of convenience on the insistence of your father. Your parents were getting older but you were still young and so beautiful, many men in the village would court you but according to your father the blacksmith was the best match; the fact that they were old buddies and often shared a drink together and the 'arrangement' was probably created during one of their drunken get togethers was an unspoken fact.
Another thing that displeased you greatly was the fact that not only was the blacksmith, Halvar was his name, your father's age but he was known to not be a pleasant man to be around. He was loud, crass, hot-tempered and terribly ill-mannered, not to mention a raging drunk so much that you wonder how did such a man keep up his workshop for so long. You knew about his drunken escapades very well, every server girl at the tavern knew about him and how terrible he got while drunk, and you were to be his wife? You felt defeated at best and simply humiliated and hopeless at worst.
You were dreaming and wondering about your wedding day and future spouse since you were a girl, would they be strong and handsome? Beautiful? Kind and caring and would take you away from this life of barely getting by? All those dreams quickly faded to nothingness when you came to terms with whom you'll be spending the rest of your life with and it was...miserable.
Little did you know about a certain someone who has been keeping his eyes on you for quite some time now. Someone who send his men, his 'Shadows' to spy on you and report back to him just to be sure that you're safe and okay and the last reports worried him greatly.
Because you see, Lord Commander Philip Graves was in love. He was in love with you and he had it bad. To him, everything about you was perfect; your clear glowing skin that looked so soft to touch, your hair flowing in the wind, your full breasts almost spilling out of the barmaid dress as you were giggling and serving him wine and dinner while he regularly visited the tavern you worked at just so he'd be able to watch you, gods he wanted to pull that annoying dress down and suckle on you tits, grope your full and soft body until you were mewling for him...
He was in love with your bubbly nature, your smile and with your full, plump body; he wanted to devour you and keep you as his, make you his Lady Wife and breed you full of his children. You'd be such a good momma Philip thought, with your caring nature you'd nurture your babies and you two would watch them grow into perfect lords and ladies. And while your marriage would probably spark a few controversies given his status as a lord and you a 'simple' villager but let's be honest, he wouldn't give two fucks about it. Let those little lordlings whine to him that he didn't chose one of their snotty daughters to marry, nobody would even listen to them and Philip would end up with a perfect little wifey.
The only problem was you 'betrothed', that old drunk blacksmith.
Philip scowled even at the thought of someone like that getting with someone like you. You were perfect in every sense and that poor excuse of a man was nothing compared to you...to him, Lord Graves.
The blonde drank deeply from his goblet, the spiced wine leaving a pleasant taste on his tongue and briefly he wondered whether you'd taste sweeter on his tongue...before his mind returned to the more unpleasant thoughts.
He was very well aware that the betrothal was an arrangement between your father and that man but it didn't lessen the burning anger in his veins, if anything it made it even worse. That old drunken bastard could barely make a straight sword nowadays so what would make anyone believe that he'd be able to actually take care of you? With him you'd have everything you'd ever ask for and more, maids and servants waiting on your command and Philip himself would tour the world if you asked for a specific kind of material for your dress or jewel.
Yeaaah, the blacksmith had to go immediately and Philip being a lord commander, basically owning all the villages around his castle, knew exactly what to do and how it'd happen.
He smiled to himself and brought the goblet back against his lips as he leaned on the windowsill to continue watching you take a bath in the lake, his keen blue eyes darkening with desire as he watched your naked body swimming in the body of water and giggling as some ducks swam by you. The blonde could already envision it; you, naked and flushed and panting, all warm and cozy among the luxurious furs and blankets of his bed with Philip panting above you getting down from his high and passionately kissing your swollen lips, growling and hugging you close to him and making sure to mark you up with lovebites and hickeys, rubbing his musky scent off on you to make sure everyone knows that you're his.
And while you'd be all smiley and cozy, drunk on your love and the warm glow from the hearth illuminating your skin, your ex-betrothed would be...less fortunate, rotting away in the deeper parts of the surrounding forest, half eaten away by nature, forgotten and completely eradicated from your mind.
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bettyfrommars · 5 months
Text
hi loves
a wee announcement/bit of reflection below the cut
nothing heavy, just some thoughts & updates
First of all, I want to say I love this fandom so much. Truly I do. It has carried me though possibly the hardest, loneliest year of my life (and this ol' girl has been though some dark times). I've made friendships here that I hope to cherish for the rest of my life.
I came into fanfiction in October of last year, after not writing anything substantial for almost a decade. My dear friend at the time said she was looking for a specific Eddie Munson story, so I wrote it for her. I wrote it in first person because I didn't even understand how "reader perspective" was a thing, that's how wet behind the ears I was to this world. My friend, on the other hand, is a well-versed fic reader, and I distinctly remember messaging her like, "okay, what the hell is a Y/N??"
I spent that entire dark, cold winter writing and passing it to her in parts like notes in a classroom. The rush of getting back to something I loved so deeply after so much time away turned me into a monster. I lived and breathed that story. We sent endless messages back and forth every day about what each character would do next, imagining ourselves in that world, with Eddie. We made playlists, we cried. We screamed and giggled and kicked our feet when they finally kissed. We mourned the loss when it ended and moped around a bit before going back to read it all over again. Some 40k words and four months later I realized, holy shit, I think I write fanfiction now?
In a way, fanfiction saved my life. It brought me back to a part of myself I had buried, a part of me that worried it might never see the light of day again. It came crawling out of the ground, gasping for air like, "you better stretch your fingers bitch because I have a lot to say."
In April, I started posting here when the fandom was notably beginning to wane, but I was happy to see there were so many still going hard for our man. I kinda creeped in, like a little scuttling crab, and was grateful to find that a handful of you embraced me.
Long story short, I am NOT leaving, not at all. I know the tone is there, but that is not what this is, lmao. I will hopefully keep this blog for as long as you will have me. I plan to finish writing I'm on Fire and Death Becomes Us, as well as maybe another bit for gargoyle!Eddie, and nightmare!Eddie, but the other series I've started (or planned to start) will stay on hiatus for a while, possibly forever. I will continue to post blurbs and hc's and whatnot, but I won't be committing to any new series or long fics.
My masterlists will remain intact for the time being for those who want to enjoy what is there. That being said, The Nightmare Factory and Stop the World and Melt with You, might be taken down in the future only because I plan to re-work them into original stories. I have a second non-fandom blog in the works that is dedicated to monsters, nightmares, and magic realism, and I will let those who are interested know about it when the time comes.
Mostly, I wanted to let you know that, even if you notice some changes, I will continue to persist with "My 2 Joe's" delulu era, possibly until the earth swallows me up. I am no longer taking requests, but my asks will always be open for thots, blurbs, obsessions, etc. You know how much I love hearing from you.
That's all really. Perhaps this is simply one of those "end of year" thought dumps, but I also wanted to say a heartfelt Thank You to those who continue to support me, enjoy my work, and share it. My Ride or Die monsterfuckers and biker Eddie enthusiasts. My nightmare Eddie dreamers, my Twilight Zone Eddie pineapple heads. My gargoyle Eddie romantics who cheer on our Stone Boy, and my Hybrid Steve lovers who leave their windows open at night. My True Blood friends who appreciate a vampire Eddie who is nothing like Bill Compton. My darlings, my fellow rebel rousers and misfits, my friends.
This is a very symbiotic relationship, and I could not/would not do this without you ❤️
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reveluving · 4 months
Text
Thot of the Day: College COD men x shy!wife AU where they're your best friend... and then more!
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After you finally break up with your sorry excuse for a boyfriend, your best friend immediately confesses to you.
Telling you how much he loves you and he always has, and also how sorry he is for not saying it sooner, especially after the mistreatment by your ex. He was worried he might ruin what the two of you had, even as just friends. 
He should’ve acted on it so long ago. Something he should've done from the get-go.
But now that the jerk's out of the picture, all that matters is the two of you. It always has been. One day, when the two of you are attending a college party, your last one before graduating, you stick close to each other in the corner of the room.
And then, he sees your ex with his new girl.
But that man also wouldn't stop looking at the two of you to the point where he's not even focusing on his new girl anymore, even when she's grinding up against him and nipping on his neck.
His presence also catches the interest of a few partygoers. Always known as the self-assured, overachieving and respected figure of the school.
He exudes confidence with those he meets, but he prefers his tight-knit circle of friends. With his achievements and how he carries himself, he was intimidating just as he was inspiring, so it was a surprise (but not really, because you are his best friend) to see him shamelessly showing you his affection.
Word spreads fast about the 'best friends' finally dating, after all.
So, he takes advantage of the situation, holding you in his arms at all times, kissing you ever so softly and whispering God knows what that has you looking away with a bashful smile, all while your ex watches as if you had betrayed him.
The glass in his hand shakes just a tad bit, threatening to break it as he watches your face contort in pleasure from a mere kiss. Then hiding in his chest because you're scared the students around you might be watching.
Oh, how he enjoys seeing the jerk's eyes widen in fear when he looks up at him. Sharp and darkening as he stares him down.
He's gonna have to keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid just to try and win you back. 
Again: try. 
Because the bastard can try all he wants, but there's no denying that he'll look fucking stupid in the process. 
But if he tries anything. Anything that'll scare you like he did when you were still dating.
He's going to get it. Worse than what was already coming for him. 
Real soon.
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
;; — Price, Soap, Keegan, Ghost, Gideon, Graves, Alejandro, Horangi — ;;
Come & check out my COD m.list!
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cxhleel108 · 6 months
Text
S7 Thots for this week: I’ve had enough…
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• Here go this bitch🙄🙄🙄
• The new bed outfits were kinda meh but that purple and gold number was cuuuuuute.
• Lame ass sex scene on the daybeds yayyyy.
• Yes Willow we had a VERY nice evening. Did you have fun with the “him-shaped space” in your bed?😁
• Aw Bonnie and Vicky are sad that I made love with Bryson? That’s awful, I really don’t give a fuck tho.
• Snog, Marry, Pie day is here😍😍😍
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• Oh don’t worry bitch I got somebody in mind too!
• Daphne immediately going to snog Evan like she’s so real I’m sorry.
• The fact we get to dodge the pie getting thrown at us LMAOOOOO Willow you’re never gonna win bookie.
• The fact everyone wants to marry Tanya (my MC for clarification) oooohhh she’s mother!
• Bryson you really coulda just snogged me babe but Imma look past it cuz you still made sure to put a ring on it😁
• Willow I know YOU of all people are not tryna call ME predictable.
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•🫵🏽🤣
• Not Rafael coming to kiss us??? Sorry Daph🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️
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• Why I actually got upset cuz he ain’t choose us?
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• Oh ok nvm I’m good now🤭
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• 🫵🏽🤣
• Why did Vicky emphasize that she had to tell us stuff about our LI and the other boys and then we proceeded to pay 29 gems just for her to not tell us anything about our LI…Fusebox somebody is gon sue y’all niggas one day while y’all keep playing.
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• BYE WILLOW!
• Oh Bryson you are so shady for saying last to come should be the first to go, aka Vicky and Travis needa pack they mf bags. I’ve taught him so well🤩
• I don’t wanna go talk to these people about “where their heads are at” I DON'T CAREEE.
• Evan asking me who I think the most annoying couple is omg? Why are y’all so messssyyyyy??? (I love it)
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• Oh that's cool, we really don't give a fuck tho!
• Oop it's date time so you know what that means girlies...outfit reviews🤩🤩🤩
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• Don't get me wrong these are both cute but there are certain details on both of the tops that's fucking them up.
• The date was cute. Not much else to comment on.
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• OH-
• I'm crying how #Raphne get destroyed just after they was pledging to leave the villa for each other😭😭😭
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• Honestly real asf.
• Ok my whole thing is...Uma...If y'all just made up and had a wonderful lil freak session then why after a very small, I mean MINISCULE, disagreement about not talking so quickly about the future are you gonna just go out and try to make a move on another bitch's man? Niece I can only keep defending you for so long like...
• But at the same time Alex lowkey deserve it cuz he pissing me off with all this hypocritical whiny ass lil baby shit.
• Omg Bryson finna ask us to be his girlfriend soon oooo #Raphne watch out cuz #Tyson is gonna take your spot😘
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• LIKE WHAT IS SHE BABBLING ABOUT???????
• Uma you may be immature and a lil slow at times but you still a real ass bitch, I can't hate you💯
• Outfit time again🤩
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• Omg omg omg these both eat thank god I was so scared.
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• Don’t say what I think you're about to say...
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• Oh ok you did it anyway lol🙂
• Willow if you know what's good for you, you will keep your mouth SHUT!
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• So Willow gets to stay and now Evan's gone...ok.
• So what I'm gathering from this confession about Raf (I literally couldn't be any less shocked) is that every man that has met Tanya in here has wanted her...she's literally queen of the villa like all you hoes are peasants at this point🤣🤣🤣
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• GIRL DON'T CLOCK JAKE WILSON LIKE THAT-
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• Willow...don't get fucked up😄
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• Willow...don't. get. fucked. UP.
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• ...
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sunlightmurdock · 5 months
Note
DBF!Jake Thot ——> reader’s parents setting him up on a blind date and he can’t say no because he doesn’t want them to suspect anything but reader gets jealous 👀
hahahah I’m just imagining how awkward he would get as reader’s dad is sitting there pitching the idea like “don’t worry buddy, she’s absolutely gorgeous. just your type.”
while reader is sitting opposite them, scowling while she pretends to read her book. but like you said, Jake can’t say no because he’s been single for forever and he doesn’t want them to suspect anything.
he agrees weakly to the date, avoiding the death stare that you’re giving him as he does. But, he’s got a plan. He’s boring, and uninterested the whole time — the date goes just as badly as he wants it to. So, after meeting the date at six, he’s home by eight, knowing that reader’s parents are on a date night of their own and won’t be back until much later.
So, he heads over to her place and uses his key — which is strictly for emergencies — to let himself in, walking right on up to her bedroom and finding her curled up in bed, watching a movie.
“What are you doing here? — Your date wouldn’t put out or something?” reader scowls at him, narrowing her eyes as he unbuttons his shirt and starts towards her, planting his knees on either side of hers and pinning her to her sheets.
“Shut up, you know I’d rather be here with you.” He tells her with an amused smile on his face. “Now can I get a kiss?”
“No.” She huffs, turning her chin away from him. He dips his head down, grabbing her soft middle as he peppers fleeting kisses along the column of her neck.
“No?” Jake checks, his smile growing as he feels her start to smile back against his shoulder.
“You shouldn’t be here, my parents could be home any minute.” She groans, playfully shoving at his shoulders.
“You’re worth the risk, honey.” Jake tells her calmly, turning her chin towards him, kissing her mouth softly.
The funny thing is that reader’s dad thinks Jake must be miserably single, with how much time he spends with the family, and just keeps trying to set him up on dates.
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quintessencewrites · 1 year
Text
Brain-Break
ShuRiri x Wakandan!fem!reader
“No, my Queen. If you will not indulge my idea for a moment to give you peace, then you will, at the very least, not work in such silence that you stress yourself anymore. Understood?”
Riri stifles a giggle at your words, sending Shuri to return to her work obediently, grumbling under her breath as she did. “-going to speak to me like that in my own lab.”
Warnings: Explicit language, implied smut, fluff
Word count: 2.8k+
Tags: @yvxmpire @zestgodtj @k3nn3dyxo @mlmilani @letitias-fav @doms-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @g4yforu @widowmakker @becauseimswagman1 @zayswriting @inmyheadimobsessed @laurensmabel1 @malltake12 @msudaku @faeriah-thv @fetchyourlife @mbakuetshurisprincess @sinsikoxo @honey-teaaaaaaaa @rxcently @pinkcorns @takeyaki @yamsthoughts @thethickerside @0hshoot1tsl4ni @shurisbathwater @shurismainbxtch @luvrzhearts @sadfreakx @shuri-my-love @justariellove @heartsforjojo @blackgirlfariy @tuesdaylovesu @chocoflagcutii @taiiunknown @zhanylai @ziayamikaelson @verachii @taiiunknown @beautybyfire @soearthquakequeen @remwritess @pinkwright @jenlouvre @letitiasleftfoot
Requested by: @laurensmabel1 I love your requests hon, keep em coming <3
Songs featured:
In My Feelings by Drake
Heartbreak Anniversary by GIVEON
Thot Shit by Megan Thee Stallion
Look at Me Now by Chris Brown ft. Lil Wayne and Busta Rhymes
The end of the day and arrival of the weekend put an extra pep in your step. No more crying babies, no more poop-filled diapers. Nothing but you and your girls, at least for the next two days. 
“Princess Y/N has arrived,” the AI booms through the lab as the doors part for you. 
Shuri’s head shot up from her work area. “Y/n? Mholweni, standwa (Hello, my love), but what are you doing here?”
Riri glances up to steal a peek at the large digital clock displayed over your head, above the doors. 
Her soldering iron falls from her grip and clanks against the steel floors. “Shit, Shuri, it’s already 4.”
“Mhm,” you hum as you glide over to pick up the tool for Riri before she hurt herself. Placing it in her hands and a peck upon her cheek, you settle atop the empty desk stationed across from the frazzled girls. “We’ve got a dinner reservation in about an hour, my loves. Did you forget?”
Riri’s head shakes so hard, you wouldn’t be surprised if the small girl had made herself dizzy. “Nah, ma, we’d never forget you. We just got caught up.”
The Queen echos a similar response, “These suit modifications have been kicking our ass and Okoye will be here any minute expecting them to be done.”
Their eyes were overflowing, sadness and exhaustion filling their beautiful, brown orbs. Riri spoke up, “Baby, we’re gonna miss our reservation if we don’t hurry-”
Tears threatened to spill, the frustrations clearly taking a toll on her usually clear mind. “Shh, intombi yam (my girl). Don’t worry about the reservations. What can I do to help?”
“Can you solder the mechanical bond on point C2 to the electrical bond on point D5?” Shuri asks, completely serious.
“... what else can I do to help?”
Your hesitation brought forth a laugh from both girls and with their shared laughter, you notice some of their worries wash away. “Just sit here and look pretty?” the taller girl suggests instead. 
“That I can do.”
Settling back onto your place on the barren desk, Shuri and Riri fall back into their routine, muttering instructions to one another that sound like a foreign language to you. Other than the whirring of their tools and their sometimes whispered voices, the lab space is very quiet. Much too quiet for you, having spent all day babbling with babies who have yet to develop their speaking skills. 
An exasperated scream falls from Riri’s lips, echoing and bouncing off the walls in the mute room. “I don’t know Shuri, baby. This shit is feeling pretty impossible.”
Shuri’s eyes roll at Riri’s dramatics. “Sthandwa, cwaka (My love, hush). You know better than to scream like that in here. Someone could’ve been startled; dropped something and gotten hurt.”
“It’s only us in here.”
“Okay, I could have been startled, dropped something, and gotten hurt.”
Annoyance fills Shuri’s words and you can tell the two geniuses are moments away from snapping at one another.
“Okay, my loves,” you say, jumping from the table, pulling the girls attention away from one another and onto you. 
Two quick steps later, you’re standing next to Shuri, rubbing the small of her back to calm her. “It sounds like its time for a Brain-Break.”
“A what?” she sighs, leaning into your touch. 
“A Brain-Break. It is something I have taught the older children at the daycare. You are too focused on the task at hand; your mind is too clouded. Give your brain a break”
Riri smiles at your attempt to relieve some of their stress and opens her mouth to oblige, but Shuri beats her to speaking. “Thank you, usana, but we don’t have time for a Brain-Break. We barely have time for a pee break.”
Shuri would spend all day cooped up in this lab, giving in to the pressure and have no problem with it. Riri, on the other hand, for sure needed that break. 
Walking over to the smaller girl, you rubbed your digits up her back, slowly and gently. “Griot,” your voice rang out.
“Yes, Princess?”
“Would you shuffle through my playlist, please?”
“Yes, Princess.”
Bass blasts through the speakers, and Shuri looks up at you, bewildered. “Y/n,” she started. 
“No, my Queen. If you will not indulge my idea for a moment to give you peace, then you will, at the very least, not work in such silence that you stress yourself anymore. Understood?”
Riri stifles a giggle at your words, sending Shuri to return to her work obediently, grumbling under her breath as she did. “-going to speak to me like that in my own lab.”
Trap,
Trap Money Benny
This shit got me in my feelings
Gotta be real with it,
Yup
Iron Heart is already swaying to the lyrics, still beneath your touch. A pained smile crosses your face, knowing your girl is going to crack under the pressure if she doesn’t get a Brain-Break.
“Riri, do you love me?” you rap out to the unsuspecting girl, earning a grin that dominates all of her features.
“Are you riding? Say you’ll never, ever leave from beside me, cuz I want ya, and I need ya, and I’m down for you always.”
You extend your hand to the other love of your life, who’s got her head down, trying so hard to ignore your antics. “Shuri, do you love me? Are you riding? Say you’ll never, ever leave from beside me, cuz I want ya, and I need ya, and I’m down for you always.”
Riri releases the most beautiful laugh you’ve ever heard, but Shuri’s harsh gasp pulls you away from it. “Y/n, where are your kimoyo beads?”
The lyrics continue to wash by, unsaid, as you share Shuri’s gaze. “Huh,” you say dismissively. “I must have left them at the daycare.”
“Left them at- Usana (Baby), why were they off to begin with?”
A shrug from you appalls the girl even further. “The babies like to teeth on them. I take it off and put them in my desk so they can not get to it. I must have forgotten it there.”
The curls hanging from the queen’s scalp bounce as her head sways at your words. “My hard work, hand-crafted, engineering genius-” Now its Riri who rolls her eyes at Shuri’s dramatics. “-reduced to a teething toy for tots?”
Before you have time to respond, Shuri stands upright, rising to her full height, and heads for the exit. “I am going to retrieve them. Riri, usana (baby), keep working. Please?”
She’s gone before either of you answer. Turning towards your girl, excitement oozing from your features, you pull her body in close to yours. “Ready for that Brain-Break?”
Riri relaxes in your hold. “Y/n, I know you just heard Shuri tell me to keep working.”
“Genius yam entle (My beautiful genius),” you saw lowly, with a kiss to her nose. “She is taking a break, and so must you.”
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Shuri returns to the lab, your kimoyo bracelet in hand. The music blasting through the space greet her before the doors even open. “Queen Shu-” Griot attempts.
“Quiet, Griot,” Her Majesty speaks out, eyes blessed with the sight before her. 
You and Riri are performing the final lyrics as the song comes to an end. “Cuz I remember every time, on these days that feel like you and me. Heartbreak anniversary, do you ever think of me?” belts out of the two of you, slightly off-key.
Both of you are still unbeknownst to your audience when Griot announces the next song. 
“Shit, baby, this is my song!” Riri has completely abandoned the work before her as Megan’s explicits roar.
Hands on my knees, shaking ass on my thot shit,
Riri takes it upon herself to MC this one, while you’ve taken up the role of dancer. 
Bent over and obeying the words of Megan herself, Riri claps her hand against your backside, smacking your bouncing cheeks to the beat. 
Post me a pic, finna make me a profit
When the liquor hit, then the bitch get toxic,
Why the fuck you in the club with niggas wildin?
The sound of laughter pulls you and Riri from your facade concert. Shuri is still standing at the entrance, chuckling at the sight of her girls. “Riri, I thought you were helping me!” she accuses as she struts over. “Y/n, since when can you get down like that?”
She’s messmorized at the display that was just before her. “What is going on?”
Your shrug mirrors Riri’s. “Brain-Break,” you answer in unison.
“This is a Brain-Break? If I knew there’d be ass thrown, I would have agreed the first time.”
The grin that adorns your face is too bright to be hidden. “So, you’re agreeing now?”
Shuri shakes her head in defeat. “I’m agreeing to one song. Then we really have to finish this work.”
Griot announces the next song, and the queen shrinks into herself. “Not this one. I can not perform this song.”
Her cries are ignored. “I call Wayne,” you shout, knowing Riri was going to try to fight you for it. 
“That’s not fair! I should get Lil Wayne!”
“I already called him, usana (baby).”
“He’s American, I’m American. I want Wayne’s part,” the thrown girl whines. 
“Riri, they’re all American.”
An eyeroll is all you get in response as she turns to Shuri. “Ma, you got Busta’s part? I want Chris if I can’t have Wayne.” A side-eye dedicated to you accompanies her words.
“Bast no, I can not do Busta Rhyme’s part! I don’t have the lung capacity for that!”
A devilish smirk appears on Riri’s gorgeous face. “You had the lung capacity last night when you were between y/n’s-”
The song starting cuts off Riri’s words as a deep blush rises on Shuri’s cheeks. 
I don’t see how you can hate from outside the club. You can’t even get in.
Shuri is still looking for a way to escape her impending doom when Riri reaches for the wrench abandoned on their work station, though it is a wrench no more. It’s now her microphone as the embodiment of Christopher Maurice Brown washes over her. 
Yellow model chick
Yellow bottle sippin’
Yellow Lamborghini
Yellow top missing
She flicks the curls hanging in Shuri’s face.
Yeah, yeah
That shit looks like a toupee
Shuri’s jaw falls, her mouth agape at Riri’s/Chris’s words and the giggle that escapes earns you another side-eye.
I get what you get in ten years, in two days
Ladies Love me, I’m on my Cool J
“Wait,” the Wakandan royal mutters. “Ladies love me, I’m on my Cool J… LL Cool J… Is that what the LL stands for?”
Now it’s your mouth that hangs open. “Shuri, my love, there is no way you are figuring this out just now. Like right now.”
Her gaze at you is bashful and embarrassed. “Shuri,” you cry out, engulfed by the laughter that is shaking your body. 
Before the queen can respond, Riri jumps up, landing hard on the empty table. It wobbles beneath her, though her voice and poise are as steady as ever. 
I ain’t really mean to say on my dick, 
But since we talking about my dick,
All of you haters say hi to it
Her free hand rests on the crotch of her jeans and that’s when you notice it. Shuri’s obviously noticed as well as her disbelief rings in your ears. “Are you wearing your strap?!”
With a ‘mic’ drop, Riri’s demeanor relaxes. “Not important right now, babe. It’s your turn.”
Slowly, Shuri reaches for the disregarded tool and holds it to her lips. Her deep breath echoes as though she held a real microphone. “Okay,” she says to herself, allowing an awkward bob and sway to move her lanky limbs. A whole beat behind, she starts, “Cuz I’m feening and I’m running and I’m feening like ah, got away, get away and away and I won’t stop, cuz you know I got to win everyday, everyday, day.”
The laughter takes over before you can stop it and you meet the ground, unable to stand on your unsteady legs. Riri’s laughter chimes out as well. 
Griot calls out, “No, my Queen, it’s Cuz I’m feeling like I’m running and I’m feeling like I gotta get away, get away, get away. Better know that I don’t and I won’t ever stop, cuz you know I gotta win every day, day, day-”
Your laughter hits you harder, “Even the damn AI knows it.” Tears stream down your cheeks as Riri holds onto the table to steady herself. 
“Shut up, Griot,” Shuri retorts. To you, she says “I told you two I couldn’t do this part.”
Riri stands, walking bent over to a disappointed royal. “I got you baby.”
She grabs the wrench from Shuri’s grip then holds out her hand, “Tag me in, ma.”
“Tag you in? This isn’t wrestling, Ri-”
Riri’s bouncing with giddy now, shaking her outstretched hand in Shuri’s face. “Tag me in!”
It takes another eye roll and shake of her head before Shuri finally taps the excited girl’s hand. “Yes!” Riri hisses, climbing back onto the table. 
And I be banging on my chest
And I bang in the east, and I’m banging in the west
Riri’s performance plays out once again as she thumps upon her sternum, first facing left, then right.
The lab doors open and close again, though none of you notice. Okoye enters, eyes raising at the scene before her. “Gener-” Griot attempts to do what he was programmed to do, but Okoye silences him, wanting to remain undetected for just a while longer. 
Gotta taste it, and I gotta grab it
And I gotta cut all through this traffic
Just to be at the top of the throne
Better know I gotta have it, have it!
Finishing up her encore, Riri reaches down towards you, offering a hand to help you onto the unstable ‘stage’. 
Griot has taken to the ‘Look at me now’s’ stringing off in the background and Riri claps your hand, once, twice, three times. “I’m tagging you in, baby.”
Shuri releases a laugh, amused by the two of you, and in the background, Okoye does the same.
You reach up to release the bun from your head, shaking loose your curls as they hang around your face in the same way Lil Wayne’s locs hang in his. 
Man, fuck these bitch ass niggas,
Shuri cringes at the explicits rolling off your tongue so easily and Okoye raises a brow, having never heard her princess exhale a single cuss word, let alone three in a row.
How yall doing?
I’m Lil Tunechi, I’m a nuisance
I go stupid, I go dumb like the Three Stooges
Riri is still standing on the table with you, your movements combined, swaying the thing. “Get down, standwas (my loves). I am not fixing either of you up tonight if you get hurt. I already have a bunch of work to do,” Shuri begs, calculating in her head whether or not she’ll be able to catch the both of you if you were to fall.
I don’t care what you say, so don’t even speak
My girlfriend a freak like Cirque du Soleil
You change the lyric a bit as your hand snakes around Riri’s waist, pulling her in close, eyes dropping to the strap that you hadn’t forgotten about. She blushes under your gaze.
Shuri catches your line of vision and traces it to Riri’s pants. “Oh yeah, intliziyo encinci (little heart), you gonna tell us why you’re so casually strapped up at-” she turns her head to peek at the clock and catches sight of Okoye, finally stepping out of the background, dragging a slow clap with her.
“Ikaka (Shit),” Shuri whispers.
“Shit,” Riri repeats, dropping your hand from her waist and climbing down from the table. 
“Mm,” Okoye hums before speaking. “A really… delightful show your majesties.” A smirk is hidden behind her stonic appearance.
“Y/n,” she calls out to you as the smile breaks. “I feel as though I should wash your mouth out with soap.”
A sheepish chuckle vibrates from you. “Yeah, you probably should.”
“Small girl,” She’s addressing Riri this time, eyes trailing up and down her body. No doubt, she’d been here long enough to hear your conversation about Riri’s strap. “I’m choosing not to speak about this, to save us both the embarrassment.”
Riri just nods as Shuri attempts to mask her laughter with a cough. Okoye turns towards her queen slowly, smile no longer present. 
“Shuri,” she acknowledges.
“Hm?” the Queen asks, lips tucked thin in a straight line.
“Have you finished the modifications for the Midnight Angel suit?”
Silence follows, everyone quiet, the music having been cut short minutes ago. 
Laughter erupts, filling the space. The beautiful sound is coming from Riri who is laughing so hard, tears spill from her tightly shut lids. Her amusement is contagious, spreading to you next, then to Shuri herself. 
“Shit,” the royal gasps. 
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