#there's not nearly enough of these fics out there
Note
sub kitty hybrid jungwon? or just ignore the hybrid part if ur not comfy!
kitty! jungwon hcs
c. warnings: sub!jungwon, cat hybrid jungwon breeding kink, pegging, collars, scent kink
a. note: my first ask! was genuinely so happy to receive this, trust me i'll remember you, anon, for the rest of my life <3 thank you so much! hope you like this n i'll definitely write a proper full length kitty won fic when i have the time :(
nsfw utc
sfw
being in a relationship with kitty jungwon is like having a personal little shadow, jungwon follows you all over the house and he has to nearly always be touching you, even just simple touches like sitting up really close to you as you both are doing work so your thighs are touching or walking near you so your hands grace eachother.
wonie loves head pats. but only from you. the moment he sees you, he's cutely leaning his head towards you expecting a quick pet as a greeting, his cat ears will twitch happily when you do. one time, jay jokingly reached out to pat jungwon's head after seeing you do it, jungwon quickly swatted his hand away and furrowed his eyebrows to feign annoyance.
jungwon is a huge purrer, he can't help but purr whenever he's around you. especially in the morning, when he wakes up next to you. as he nuzzles up into your neck, his loud content purrs filling the silence.
it's in a cat's nature to gift their owners things and it is no different for cat hybrids. jungwon loves bearing you simple little gifts all the time. nearly every week, a bouquet of flowers will be found in your living room as you come home from work or a new plushie placed neatly in your bed. no matter if there's an occasion or not, jungwon loves giving you gifts.
you know how cats like to disturb you as you work, like for example, sitting on your laptop keyboard and stuff. jungwon is just the same! whenever you are working he likes to curl up next to you and cuddle with you, pleading for you to pet him. if you don't acknowledge it, he'll just get up and sit on your lap until you have no choice but to pay attention to him. purring when you run your fingers through his hair and stroke his cat ears.
but like any other cat, kitty jungwon can get pretty grumpy when he is lacking sleep. when he's sleepy jungwon gets cranky and his responses get pretty sassy. although, when he wakes up energised again, he shyly apologises and nudges his head into you, nosing your neck and purring at you as he bats his pretty long eyelashes so you forgive him.
nsfw
jungwon is obsessed with your scent, like he genuinely believes that you have the most beautiful scent on earth. so, he Loves to eat you out. his face burried deep between your legs and your scent surrounding him. the way your thighs circle his head engulfing him in your scent and your hands gently pat his little cat ears. when you cum, covering his face with your juices, he moans in your pussy and always cums untouched himself.
jungwon loves to be collared during sex (and to be honest even when not). he loves the feeling of ownership you have on him, the mere thought of having you own him makes jungwon orgasm so quickly. so, when he's feeling horny, he will bring you his collar and flash his prettiest eyes and you being you, can never deny him, so you secure the pretty pink collar right above his adam's apple making sure it's not pressing on too tight but just enough to send blood rushing to his needy cock. even the simple feeling of your gentle fingers near his throat makes jungwon whimper.
kitty jungwon loves getting pegged. on all fours, his back arched and tight little hole on display for you. you are always so gentle with him, your hands petting his lower back and massaging the base of his tail which leaves him so needy, his hips start moving back against you so you can fuck into him deeper and reach spots he never even knew existed.
jungwon's tail is really sensitive so when you delicately run your hand over his tail, he will moan out so loud and possibly even cum because the feeling of his tail getting toyed with sends the most pleasurable shivers down his spine. his moans turning into adorable little mewls as you stroke his tail through his orgasm.
when i said jungwon is a big purrer, hes a Purrer. when he's really into it, jungwon will accidentally release a few purrs which gradually increases in volume. he can't help it, you treat him so gently and he's just so content to be with you, even during sex and he just loves you so much he can't help but purr when he's with you.
he is pretty possessive over you. so, when you come home from work and smell like other people or even worse, other hybrids, he will be all over you, grinding his hard on against you when he has the chance, groping you here and there to get your attention. before you leave for work, he will scent you to make sure everyone knows you have a kitten waiting for you at home or on days when you have a little more extra time, he will ride your thigh, his hands roaming wherever he reach and he is continuously mouthing at your neck, leaving his scent for other hybrids to smell and hickeys for regular humans to see, making sure everybody knows you are off limits. he loves the thought that you're his, just as much as he's yours. you are his girlfriend and his owner.
jungwon has the biggest breeding kink especially when he's in heat, he will be crying and begging you to allow him to breed you and fill you up to the brim with his cum. he's aware that you can't actually get pregnant but the thought of you being full of his cum makes him dizzy and it drives him to thrust into you and make you feel good so you will reward him by allowing him to cum inside you. "please let me fill you up with my kittens please, i'll be a good boy, please let me make you a mommy", jungwon would whine out to you. and when he pulls out he's so mesmerised at the sight of his thick white cum spilling out of you and down your thighs, he'll lean down and kitten lick you clean.
jungwon is usually a well behaved boy because he loves how gently you treat him but in the occasional moments where he decides to be a brat, he loves when you punish him by attaching a leash to his collar and pulling on it to choke him as you fuck into him from the back. his choked out moans and whimpers only fuel you to go rougher on him until he is crying out and pretty tears are falling over his pink cheeks. his little collar bell jingling from the force of your rough thrusts.
all in all, jungwon is (mostly) your good little kitten and he loves you so much!!
© spideyriki
jungwon is so orange kitty, i love him :')
#ash's answers ☆.ᐟ#enhypen smut#sub enhypen#enhypen fluff#jungwon smut#sub jungwon#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#jungwon fluff#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#kpop smut#sub enha#yang jungwon#kpop hybrid#enhypen hybrid#hybrids#dom reader#sub idol
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From chapter 2 and 3 of my fic where Kim and Harry go to a gay club for a case
You can read the uploaded chapters so far here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55229812/chapters/140088478
First part of chapter 3 is under the cut. Waiting for my friend to finish beta reading it for consistency and general unhingedness before I post it.
The smoking section is a small square patio with exposed brick walls on all sides, a couple of chairs, and a trellis with a brown drying vine. A string of fairy lights drapes the walls and provides the barest illumination. Kim is relieved to find it empty. He can still feel the bass of the music inside through the walls. Lighting his cigarette he leans against the exposed brick wall and inhales a lung full of smoke.
He reaches for his notebook which isn’t in his jacket.
Tonight is more stressful than Kim expected it to be. It’s been nearly a decade since the last time he’d been at a gay club and he’s no longer used to the atmosphere. He can’t believe he used to find the loud music and crowds fun.
Harry is having fun, at the very least. As Kim expected, he is very popular.
“I can’t believe him,” Kim mutters. It annoys him, more than he likes to admit, how pleased Harry is at getting attention from those two young boys. They are twenty-five at most.
Kim exhaled the smoke through his nose, the scent of chestnut engulfing him. He glanced down at his hands, for once without driving gloves. The skin is tight against sinew and bone, with blue veins visible underneath. He isn’t young anymore. He isn’t spritely, wide-eyed, enthusiastic, adventurous, or full of wonder. Kim isn’t sure he has never not been jaded. But now he gets pain in his back and neck randomly and he can’t sleep as easily as he once could, he can’t drink as much without getting terribly hungover.
Kim shouldn’t be surprised that Harry is enamored with them. He always had a thing for young, pretty, whimsical things- people unlike Kim.
Kim takes a deep drag of hot air and then watches his cigarette balanced between his fingers thoughtfully. His body relaxes, and the jittery feeling in his hands eases. A part of his dreads going back inside and seeing Harry dancing with Lucas.
That boy has no shame, rubbing himself against Harry and mewling like a kitten. Kim could never-
Kim shakes his head. He’d never want to act like that, crawling all over Harry and shamelessly flirting with him for all the world to see.
Of Harry’s many flaws, the one that bothers Kim the most is how clouded his judgment becomes under the fugue of sexual attraction. It was bad when Klaasje used Harry’s obvious attraction to her to manipulate him but somehow this felt worse.
It’s different when it’s a woman, Kim can’t compete with that. If Harry can love a man why not him?
Kim groans, he wants to slap himself. It’s not a competition, he isn’t competing for Harry’s attention.
Again he reaches for his notebook. He wants to get this jumble of thoughts out of his head. He wants to write everything down and burn the pieces.
He knows he shouldn’t like Harry like that, he shouldn’t want Harry. Harry doesn’t see him like that.
They are coworkers, partners, and friends. They’ve saved each other, again and again. Kim shouldn’t want anything else, anything more. It would make work complicated.
One cigarette might not be enough today.
Kim tilts his head up and looks at the sky. The city lights drown out all but the brightest stars.
It’s hard not to find Harry loveable. For all of Harry’s tragedy and dysfunction, when he says something deeply insightful and intelligent he leaves Kim in awe. When Harry’s eyes are full of joy as he exposits about some newly acquired niche fact, when he glances at Kim for approval and reassurance, and when he looks so pleased to make Kim laugh, when he looks at Kim like he hung the stars in the sky, Kim feels his resolution crumble.
Sometimes Kim catches a heated look in Harry’s eyes, a predatory hunger that borders on longing, Kim wonders if–hopes maybe Harry too desires him.
But Kim can’t be certain. He can’t trust his eyes, or his judgement clouded by desire. He can’t ever risk being wrong about this.
If tonight was any lonely sleepless Saturday night, Kim would be in the safety of his bed spinning inane fantasies, where Harry, unable to contain his desire pushes Kim against a wall, or on the hood of his kineema and kisses him. Harry’s kisses are terrible at first; wild and messy.
He’d tear off Kim’s orange pilot’s jacket and push his hand under Kim’s white t-shirt. Kim takes off whatever mismatched outfit Harry is wearing, ripping seams and buttons in the process. Harry growls Kim’s name in his low gravelly voice and leaves bite marks and bruises on his wake as he trails kisses down Kim’s body. Kim knots his fingers in Harry’s hair as Harry takes him into his mouth. He'll lick the tip and stroke the rest with his hand too intimidated to take Kim down his throat.
Kim will guide him and praise him and Harry will do his best to please Kim.
Kim sighs out a lung full of smoke, again grateful to be alone.
Then, as if his thoughts manifested it, Harry burst out through the doors.
Unconsciously, Kim licks his lips when he sees Harry, the wisps of his fantasies still lingering in his mind.
“Kim, he’s here!”
“Who?” Kim takes another drag from his cigarette, barely paying attention to Harry’s words. He watches Harry’s lips, the way his throat bobs as he swallows. Kim wants to reach out and touch his face, feel the roughness of his beard between his fingers, making out the crooked shape of his jaw beneath. Harry is more handsome each time Kim sees him. Kim wills himself to look away.
“Who else!” Harry whispers-shouts at him. “The suspect. Red hair and a tattoo on his arm, exactly like the witness said.”
The suspect, of course. Kim half hoped he wouldn't appear tonight but it is good. They are here for a case, not to flirt and fantasies.
“Alright,” Kim says. His dark jeans are tight and unforgiving, constricting his half hard cock. He straightens his posture in hope of some relief without making Harry suspicious. “What do you suggest we do?”
“We should go talk to him.”
Kim taps his cigarette to shake off the ash.
“That’ll be risky, we might scare him off. We should just watch him for now.”
“But he is here! Now!”
“We can’t be 100% certain it is him. The witness didn’t give his name, just a vague description. We need to confirm he knows the victim and was with him last night.”
“We can do that by asking him,” says Harry.
Kim narrows his eyes. “No, not you. I’ll do it.”
“What?”
“Your interrogation techniques are effective but we can’t let him know we are interrogating him. I’ll talk to him, you’ll scare him off.” Kim admires Harry’s wild, throw anything against the wall until something sticks method but it has a high chance of scaring people or pissing them off. Neither option they can risk tonight. They need the name of the suspect at the very least, ideally confirmation that he knew the victim and met him last night.
“I wouldn’t,” Harry insists, furrowing his brow.
“Yes, you would,” Kim says firmly. “I’ll go now, wait a few minutes before coming out.”
God, Kim wants to kiss him. He wonders if Harry would be shocked or pleased. If Kim slips in his tongue would Harry suck on it?
Kim walks up to Harry and places his half-smoked cigarette between his lips.
Harry’s eyes widen as he searches Kim’s face, bewildered, trying to figure out what he's thinking. But he accepts the cigarette in place of Kim’s tongue, taking a deep inhale of the cigarette.
“Finish this for me alright?” Kim says.
Harry nods dumbly. Kim itches to kiss Harry now, to breathe in the smoke from Harry’s lungs. Harry staggers back and leans on the brick wall for support.
Kim goes back into the club before he does something he shouldn’t.
Close up on their faces incase Tumblr chews up the quality again 😭
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Winter's King 8
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: yo, work is driving me nuts.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
Lady Jazlene, a queen by marriage, cries herself to sleep. You stay until she snores and snuff the candle as you leave her on her stomach atop the stuffed mattress. You emerge between the guards and wonder if they keep people out or keep her in.
They don’t react to you. No one really does. A shadow approaches. The thickset man grunts at you as the moonlight shines off his dark mail. Bryce waits patiently as you near him. He turns and walks beside you in silence.
Much of the camp is asleep. The only fires that remain are those of the soldiers on watch for marauders and bandits. Your soles kick loose pebbles and trample flattened grass further. You yawn as you reach the luggage carts and find the one you rode in. The grey horse is tie to the axle, dozing on its feet with puffing nostrils.
“The road will not get any less turbulent,” Bryce warns as he grabs his bedroll from across his mount’s rump. “You will need sleep, maid.”
“Thank you, sir,” you lift the canvas draped over the back of the wagon.
He grumbles and unfurls his roll across the dirt. You climb up and nestle down beneath the cover, pressed against a chest as you curl up. You hear the soldier lay down with a groan, “...too sweet...”
You close your eyes and rest your head on a bent arm. The darkness quickly swallows you up into slumber and the day fades into obscurity. You’re not conscious long enough to dread the one ahead.
As the sun rises, heat gathers in the cart. You wake in a damp sweat, nearly suffocating as you gulp up cool air. You slip down onto your feet and grab onto the cart to keep from stumbling. Bryce grunts as your soles crunch on the ground.
“Eh, where’re you off to?” He sneers.
You look down at him. His eyes are still closed as his grey steed sniffs at the dirt close to him.
“Sir, I... I haven’t... relieved myself since... erm, well...”
“Go on, but not too far,” he opens his eyes and sits up. “Holler if you meet trouble.”
The horse huffs into his steely hair and he pets its nose. He grabs onto its reins and hauls himself up. You quickly spin and flit away. You go off into the brush where its thick and squat down, your skirts gathered above your knees. You miss the springs behind the castle where you would bathe with the other maids, you could use a wash now.
You finish up and peer over the stretch of bodies, horses, and carts. You set off back toward the cart and as you come in sight of Bryce, he unties a dented kettle from his saddles. You feel much better without the pressure beneath your guts.
“I could fetch water,” you offer.
He looks over his shoulder. You think you surprised him.
“Quiet mouse,” he mutters and faces you, gripping the bent handle, “I can manage a potful of water.”
“Yes, sir, I only was being helpful.”
“You stay, take Daisy to find some fresh grass,” he points to the horse.
“Daisy?” You look at the beast, “is that her name?”
He shrugs and stalks off. You go to the reins and loose them. You glance around and lead her over to an unyellowed swath of grass. She dips her long neck and grazes, tearing the strands noisily as her teeth clack. You pet her ear as she comes rather close to the hem of your skirt.
Heavy steps tramp up behind you. You don’t bother looking as you assume it’s Bryce. Those who are stirring are barely able to lift themselves out of their rolls. The lazy rise of dawn does not inspire fastidiousness as the clouds haze amber and rose.
“Fine horse,” the king’s timbre rumbles over you.
You turn and bow your head, “your highness.”
He inhales through his nose before he speaks again, “are you a fast rider?”
“I’ve never... I don’t ride, your highness,” you reply, staring at his black mail, just at the center of his chest. “It isn’t my horse.”
“I know it, I thought perhaps...” he begins and shifts his weight in his boots, “you might’ve secreted away the mare. That you would be sick for your home.”
“Your highness? No, I wouldn’t--” You put your hand to your apron, “I am not a thief.”
He pauses and his thick fingers toy with his belt, fiddling with a leather purse, “that isn’t what I...” he blows out in exasperation, “I do not think you dishonest. In fact, you are the most honest creature I’ve met around here.”
You keep your eyes down, “I only mean to feed the horse.”
“Yes, I believe you,” he assures, his tone glum, “forgive my inference. Truly, it wasn’t intended as such.”
“I understand, your highness,” you say.
“It was a jape, a poor one, I suppose,” he hooks his thumb in his belt and turns to pace. “I wanted to thank you. I have yet to figure out how to handle Lady Jazlene but you keeping her company, I do appreciate it.” He stops and crosses his arms as he faces you again, “last night, what you heard and saw... we are strangers still, her and I.”
“I am a maid, your highness, I serve the lady and you now,” you reply, “that’s all I do.”
His arms bulge before he drops them, “yes, I suppose for you, the matters of nobility are dull.”
“It is not of my concern, your highness,” you say, “I am to see that all the wine and food and little things are taken care of.”
You peer up at the sky as the dimness slowly recedes. His figure looms below and he slowly treads closer. You squeeze the reins.
“You serve the queen, the king, and... a horse,” he reaches to touch its snout, dragging his knuckles along its grey fur. “Make certain we are fed and content.”
“Whatever is needed, your highness,” you answer and watch his hand stroke the horse.
“And what do you need?” He asks.
You quork your head and stick out your lip. It's an odd question. You have what you need. You have a place in the cart, you have some nuts left over from Bryce’s generosity, and you have some hours sleep behind you.
“Nothing, I think,” you say.
He scratches behind the horse’s ear, “and what do you want?”
You purse your lips. You think. Another strange inquiry. What should you want? That’s not something anyone ever worried for. You only troubled after what others wanted.
“I... I want to see the snow,” you say at last, “I think I dreamt of it but I can’t remember. I don’t really know what it would look like but I remember once Merinda spoke of it. She knew a stable hand who once lived in the north.”
He’s quiet. Your answer isn’t very interesting. To him, the snows must be so tedious. Nothing more than ordinary. He makes a clicking noise.
“I want to see the snow too,” he pulls his hand away from the horse and for a moment, he seems to reach for you, recoiling short of touching your grasp on the reins. He withdraws and presses his thumb to his teeth. He hums. “We have far to go before the snow...” he rasps, “should you require anything for the road ahead, you may ask.”
“That is kind, your highness, but I don’t expect I require much,” you assure, “thank you.”
“Mmm,” he drones as he faces the sunrise and sets his posture, “onward.”
He marches away as you stay and watch Daisy munch on the grass. You comb your fingers through her main, loosening the tangles. When another approaches, you glance over. Bryce tidies his own hair with his hands.
“Water is boiling, maid,” he declares, “I have some spare mint leaf for tea.”
“Yes, sir, thank you,” you smile down at Daisy and move out of reach of her teeth. “I will stay with the horse until she is done.”
“Hm, aye, I understand,” his forehead lines, “she is much more pleasant than I.”
He nods and turns back the way he came. You watch after him as he goes to sit before the hanging kettle, a low flame burning beneath it. He rolls his shoulders and hunches forward as he plants his elbows on his knees. These people of the Hinterlands are not so cold as they pretend.
⚔️
The long train continues through the lands. Some days slower than others. There are some where progress stops at midday in favour of passing through a village or approaching a nearby farm. The king departs from the larger party, riding with his soldiers to greet the commonfolk. Lady Jazlene refuses to accompany her husband in favour of her silk tent and wine.
The pauses in your trek makes you curious; you only ever heard of King Waleran showing his face to the citizens during the harvest festivals and self-aggrandizing ceremonies. You never saw the king yourself, only heard Lord Dustan and his wife resentfully complain of how the king never made the journey to Debray. Did he not recall that once a duchess was married to his great-uncle?
You spend the hours in Jazlene’s company. She wants her wine and mutton. You notice that her appetite for the former has grown since the first day’s travel. She even requested that some casks be sought during one of the king’s visits. He acted as if he did not hear her entreaty. Their few encounters since that first night have been terse and short, neither offering much more than a word or two.
The queen swirls her cup, watching the motion of the wine within. She giggles and puts it down, picking up the looking glass and admiring herself. She sits on a wooden stool, her skirts dusted with the dirt of the road. Despite the filth, she insists on sporting a new gown each day, no matter how extravagant.
“What a fool? To think he is wasting his time on commoners,” she trills, “you know, he should be here, worried about his wife and queen. Not married a week and all we’ve done is ride anon. I’ve had no wedding, no feast. How I am neglected for these dirty farmers.”
You say nothing. You’re not certain she recalls you’re there. She speaks to herself often as if her mother is there. A few times, she has even called for the duchess. Often when she’s nearly finished the bottle.
She pouts and sniffs. She drains the cup completely and puts it down heavily on the crate next to her. She grips the mirror with both hands and looks at her reflection. She contorts her face, sucking in her cheeks, pushing out her lips, turning her head this way and that.
“Aren’t I beautiful?” She nearly whispers. You don’t flinch. You stare at your hem. She sighs and stomps her foot, “I’m asking you!”
You peek up at her, surprised.
“Yes, your highness, you are very beautiful.”
She frowns, “you lie to me.”
“I wouldn’t lie, your highness.”
“Don’t argue with me,” she snarls and slams the mirror down, cracking the glass on the crate. She stands and blusters around, her skirts catching between her legs, “if I am beautiful, what makes me so, hm? Tell me!”
You stare at her. She is beautiful. You always thought so.
“Your hair, your curls, your highness, they are beautiful.”
She rolls her eyes, “just my hair?”
She wobbles slightly as she struts towards you.
“Your eyes. They are pretty too. And you have a nicely set nose. And your lips are finely curved, your highness,” you explain as she looms closer and closer.
“Hmph,” she stops, slouching drunkenly as she leans in to consider you, “of course you would say so. Look at you. So plain. An ugly handmaid.”
You stare back at her, a strike in your chest, then drop your gaze. It is the wine. She huffs, her alcohol-laden breath tinging your nose.
“The king,” she babbles as she turns on her heels, swaying dangerously, “we’ve only lain together our first night. It was... quick. He didn’t want me to sleep with him,” she raises a hand and flutters her fingers, “he shooed me away like some whore.” She spins and falls onto the stool, “if I am so beautiful, why does he not want me?”
You watch her. She isn’t looking for your answer. She’s talking to talk. Lady Rezlyn isn’t there so she has only herself and stagnant air trapped in the tent.
“It is my duty to have his babies. To give him heirs. I cannot do that if he will not touch me. But perhaps when are in one place, he might try again,” she smiles and lifts the broken mirror. She tilts it and lets her hand drift down to your bodice. She pushes her chest up, “when he lets me take this off, he will see. He will want me.”
She convinces herself as she preens at her reflection, “perhaps it won’t hurt.” She looks around and sees the bottle of wine. She grabs it by the neck. She grips it and wiggles it at you in the air. “He’s even thicker than this,” she puts the mirror down and balances the bottle on her palm as she circles her fingers around the bottom of the bottles neck, just before it rounds out, “and longer.”
You stare at the silk wall, mortified by her words. She giggles and the movement of her hand draws your eyes up. You watch from under your lashes as she brings her hands up and down the bottle neck.
“Mother says, just like this,” she pumps it, “that he should like it very much.” She stops and focuses on the bottle, “mmm, he is a man underneath it all.” She tosses the bottle away, “and I am a beautiful woman. He will want me.”
You lower your eyes again and twine your fingers together. You can’t help but feel bad for her. You only wish you had some words of wisdom or comfort to offer her. Or that she would hear them. You can’t help but touch the fading bruise along your stomach as you languish in the tepid silence. It’s better to let her forget you.
#geralt of rivia#dark geralt#dark!geralt#geralt of rivia x reader#fic#series#au#medieval au#the witcher#winter's king#dark fic#dark!fic
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knock him down a peg
pairing: QZ!Joel x F!Reader x Tess
word count: 4.4k
summary: A follow up to Never Pegged You For A Quitter. After a raid gone wrong, Joel's been acting out. Cue an attitude adjustment. Inspired by this ask! 🩷
content/warnings: threesome, pussy eating, anal fingering, Tess is 'daddy', sub!Joel, fucking with a strap-on, reader is injured, Tess is protective af about reader, Joel nuts a frankly concerning amount, references to fisting, Tess slaps Joel
a/n: uhhhh i've been working on this for MONTHS but i think it's finally ready?? shoutout to my co-writer @ozarkthedog without whom this wouldn't exist -- thank you for letting me scream about all of my horny Tess thoughts, helping me organise my brain, giving me about a million good ideas, and encouraging me the whole way thru, and to @sp00kymulderr for giving me the fic title (did you know you did that?? you did. thank you!!)
The three of you had been planning for weeks; maps spread out across the kitchen table. Packs filled with ammo and food and product. It was an immaculate plan, every variable accounted for.
It still went tits up.
Just that morning, FEDRA had changed patrol routes altogether, so your route out wasn't clear anymore. It was no matter, you'd figured. You could head south, through the old high rises, and hook around.
That's when you discovered why FEDRA changed their routes.
Swarms of infected like you'd never seen them had flooded the buildings, hissing and flailing and scrambling towards you. Tess nearly got bit. And then once you made your drop and collected your payment, you had to go back through again.
Tess and Joel had taken the rear, and you'd gone ahead, ending up face-to-face with a slimy FEDRA lackey who took all of the cards you had on you, half your new product, and still put you in lockup for three days.
All in all, bad.
Arguably better, though, than the noose.
Tess had been waiting for you when you got out and scanned over you as you limped your way out. Your shoulder had been dislocated, but she'd reset it as soon as you were let outside, cussing out the disinterested agents who were watching you, telling you to breathe deep and setting it on two when she made you count to three.
Now, you’re home, sat across from Tess, hissing as she dabbed iodine on the oozing cut beneath your eye. There was a gash on your abdomen that was just shallow enough to avoid the need for stitches. Small miracles. You watched her scan over you, head-to-toe, as if you were hiding some extra life-threatening wound that neither of you knew about yet. Her concern was firm and fierce; never sweet words, but warm hands and a careful touch.
Joel, however, wasn't handling things well. He was pacing back and forth, dangerously quiet. He wore a mean scowl, and his eyes were nearly black with fury. You could see all of his tells; the clench of his jaw, the flash of his eyes, the way his fingers twitched nervously and he refused to make eye contact with you.
The more he paced, the more Tess tensed till suddenly she snapped.
"Sit the fuck down, Joel. You're not helping, pacing like that," she scolded. He practically growled in response.
"It was fuckin' reckless," he spat, "Shouldn't've let her go ahead."
"Her?" you scoff, "We all decided I should go ahead. Someone's gotta do it, and I'm as much a part of this as you are."
He glowered.
"You think you're some kinda savior?” Your shoulder smarts, and the more Joel talks, the more you want to smack him. “Gotta protect me, is that it?"
“You’re more important here,” he argues, punctuating his point by jabbing his finger towards you, “Plottin’ out the routes, trackin’ product, inventory-”
“Joel-” Tess interrupts, “You know as well as I do that she’s been doing this just as long as we have. You wanna know why you weren’t the one going ahead?”
The guard dog reels, as if he didn’t know his place and his role were calculated. As if it weren’t something Tess would ensure.
“You’re talkin’ bout reckless? You’re the one getting reckless, Joel,” Tess hisses.
“It shouldn’ta gone like that-”
“Shit’s gonna go bad, sometimes. But we’re all here. We’re all okay.”
Joel huffs a sigh. “We nearly weren’t.”
Tess ignores him. “And you think being a martyr, putting yourself in danger ahead of us is gonna help us in the long run?”
“If I’d been up front-”
“If you’d been up front, right now we’d be cleaning your oozing face. Maybe you’d have some broken ribs, too.”
“But-”
“Nah. Shut the fuck up, Miller.”
Joel scoffs, nostrils flaring. Shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
The eye roll–that’s the final nail in the coffin.
Tess glowers. “You’d better fix your fuckin’ attitude, Joel, or I’ll fix it for you.”
He grinds his jaw, glaring at you both in turn.
But then Tess sees it; the way he’s starting to get hard in his jeans. You see it too, and you start to notice other things; the flush of his cheeks, his pupils dilated, blown black.
“Oh-,” Tess smirks and turns to you, “Look at that, baby. Looks like he wants a little attitude adjustment.”
You expect him to fire back, make some quip, talk some shit. Instead, he looks ahead. He avoids making eye contact with either of you. A deer in headlights.
“C’mon, Joel.” Tess soothes, stepping forward to rub small circles on his hips, holding and settling him with a surprisingly gentle touch. "Instead of letting you be a stubborn jackass, maybe we oughta fuck some good sense into you.”
Joel doesn’t groan, he just lets out a breath. You do groan.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to be good for us,” she taunts.
You’ve been on the receiving end of Tess’s mean streak before and it’s embarrassing how immediately it excites you. Whenever you think about it, your stomach flips and you have to actively restrain yourself from rubbing your thighs together. Her voice was then as it is now–gleeful and mocking. She made sure you learned your lesson- you fucked up, so now I gotta teach you how to act right.
The last time you’d seen her like that, the night had ended with your ass on fire, covered in raised handprints. Painful indents of bite marks bruised beautifully up along the insides of your thighs, and you’d come so many times you nearly passed out. These days when you touch yourself, you’re thinking of that; how Tess must’ve been wrist deep, fucking her whole fist into you as she opened her mouth, tongue ready and waiting, grinning when your release splashes her face and drips down her chin, telling you, “Now that’s better, baby.”
Now, fully back in the moment, you’re looking at her and you can see the fire in her eyes. Tess grabs you by the collar, kissing you hard. It’s a dizzying few moments as she licks into your mouth, tongue hot and sweet. You love how she tastes.
When she pulls away, you’re breathless and she’s smirking.
“Take a seat, honey,” she tells you, and pushes you back. You stumble and land in the armchair behind you. Then she turns to Joel. “You,” she fixes him with a stern glare, “No touching. Behave.”
She exits the room. You and Joel are left in silence.
You don’t know exactly what Tess has in mind, but you’ve got a pretty good idea.
Joel watches you, wordless. You can feel the energy, the urgency vibrating out from him, but he says nothing. Barely moves. Tess has him trained well.
You unbutton your jeans and lower your zipper. Shimmy them down your hips, past the swell of your ass, and kick them off.
There’s a sharp intake of breath, and you know Joel’s just noticed you’re not wearing any underwear. You recline back, letting your legs spread. Letting him see every part of you.
The wound on your abdomen is hot, a burning pulse. Your shoulder aches. Your jaw stings. You’re pretty sure your face is a swollen, puffy mess, especially where the gash beneath your eye still weeps, and there are bruises in the shape of handprints all down your arms.
You need to feel good. Not broken or disregarded, and certainly not made to feel inadequate. You’d gotten your ass handed to you. Now, you need to indulge in some of your more hedonistic pleasures. And, you want to torture Joel, just a little.
Hoping Joel’s watching, but refusing to look up to see, you start to trace along your body. Your fingertips brush your lips first, trailing down your chin, your throat, your collarbone. It’s grounding. Assessing. You need to know what will make you feel good and what will cause you pain.
Slowly, you follow down your shirt, taking a moment to pinch your nipples, tracing a path along your belly, and then to the thatch of curls between your thighs.
You hear a restrained breath, and now you know Joel’s watching. You cup your mound, feel your own heat in your hand. You don’t want to go too far, don’t want to really start before Tess is back, but there’s no harm in warming yourself up.
A few minutes later, as you’re stroking your cunt, feeling yourself start to drip, she walks back in.
What a fucking sight to behold. Her own shirt is unbuttoned, harness secured at her waist and thighs, the firm silicone cock hanging heavy between her legs. She’s beautiful, breasts unconstrained by any bra, nipples hard, and legs so toned. She looks at you, your naked self, and her scowl softens.
She turns to Joel. “Now, that’s a good girl, huh? Look at that.”
Joel says nothing, just grunts a vague noise of affirmation.
Tess raises a brow. “Really, Joel?” she admonishes, “You had plenty to say earlier.”
He’s grinding his jaw, has been grinding his jaw for a while. You start to gingerly pull the shirt you’re wearing off and over your head, and Tess leans down to help, taking care to avoid your fucked up shoulder, all your cuts and bruises.
“This is what’s gonna happen,” she tells Joel, “I’m gonna fuck our girl, and you’re gonna watch. If you’re good, then we’ll fuck you, too. Got it?”
Joel grumbles an affirmation, but Tess is sick of his avoidance. She rounds on him, closing the space between them in only a few steps, and slaps him hard on the cheek.
“-The fuck, Tess.” Joel growls, and he’s mad now, “Goddammi-”
She smacks him again. “This isn’t a negotiation, Joel. You can leave if you want,” her eyes glance down to where his cock strains painfully against the fly of his jeans, “But I’m guessing you want to stay here and play with us.”
Finally, Joel looks at her. Directly at her. It’s like staring at the sun.
“Yes,” he admits, “I want to be here.”
“Good boy.”
Now, her attention turns on you. “How’re you feeling, baby?” she asks.
“Better every minute,” you grin up at her, fingers lazily swirling around your clit as you let yourself feel.
“Let me see,” she commands, and you let her spread your legs, opening your thighs wide as she examines your glistening cunt. She nearly gasps when she takes a look. “Oh, baby,” she praises, “Look at you-”, and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.
It feels so vulnerable, having Tess on her knees in front of you, looking at you bare. She breathes in deeply, groaning as her nostrils fill with the smell of you. The vulgar eroticism sends another surge of arousal through you and you’re almost embarrassed at how much it makes you drip.
Gently, she presses an exploratory middle finger against your opening and hisses out a breath when she slips in easily.
She turns her wrist, twisting the digit, letting you feel the width of her fist pressing against your mound. The pressure against you is delicious. It obsessed you, every time you considered it; the way she can make every time feel like the first time. You could never get bored. She’s a force.
You want to taunt her or tease her, rile her up just a little more. You love her rough side. But you know she wouldn’t go for it, the state you’re in, and besides–you’re tired, and the way she’s fingerfucking you feels so goddamn good you can’t even think of a single thing to say.
She goes from stroking your folds and covering you with your own slick, to slipping her ring finger in with her middle. It’s an easy glide, too, and she starts pumping the digits, thumb hard against your clit as she works you open.
“God damn,” she groans, “All beat up and you’re still fuckin’ gushing for me, pretty girl.”
The pressure is overwhelming but you want to endure, need to endure. That doesn’t, however, stop your body from writhing and shaking, and the combination of her words and her ministrations, you know Tess feels how hard you’re clenching around her, feeling yourself get too close, too fast. She winks at you before turning back to Joel.
“C’mon over here,” she beckons him. He obeys, kneeling down beside her. She leans over and narrates. “Look at how she’s taking my fingers. Barely any resistance. Slipped right in, see how wet she is for me?”
Joel hums in acknowledgement, something between a sigh and a growl.
“Good thing she’s this wet already,” she tells Joel, nodding at the strap between her legs, “Otherwise you might have to suck it first-”
His growl turns into something like a whine, desperate and beautiful. You know more than most how much effort he’s putting into not allowing himself to speak. How he must really be desperate to get fucked if he’s restraining himself like this.
“And we know that’s not a punishment for you, don’t we?” She swats him on the cheek, “We all know how much Joel Miller loves suckin’ cock, huh?”
She’s not wrong. His eyes somehow grow darker, and you’re so focused at watching his reactions that you barely even register Tess spreading your legs even further apart till the head of her cock presses against your drooling cunt, and she slides the entire length in, bottoming out in a single smooth thrust.
“JESUS, Tess,” you cry out.
She just grins and holds you by the waist. “Hold on tight baby,” she tells you, “I know you can take all this and then some.”
After a few restrained thrusts, she finds her rhythm and starts fucking you. The initial sensation of being filled starts to wane, and you swear your pussy is a starving entity of its own. It wants and it wants and it wants.
The ache is so good, and she’s deep, too. It’s a perfect balance of pleasure and pressure. With each cant of her hips, you sink further into a blinding euphoria. It’s exactly what you need.
“Taking me so fucking good,” she praises, “Like you were made to take me. Goddamn, baby, you’re dripping like a faucet.”
“Needed this so bad-” you mumble, “Fuck, Tess, I need you-”
“You got me, baby,” she promises, “You got me, I’ll give you anything you need.”
Every word is punctuated by another thrust.
“Tell me what you need, honey.”
“Faster,” you gasp, “Please, Tess, need it faster-”
With a growl, she shifts you, pulls out for a moment and grabs you by the legs. She drags you further down the chair but rests the back of your calves on her shoulder before plunging the strap back in, deeper and rougher than before.
You wince a little, the tender part of your belly stinging, and she notices immediately. Rearranges you, just a little.
When she slides back in, the pain is gone. Only pleasure remains.
“See?” Tess snarls, “She knows how to be good, huh?”
Still holding your legs with one arm, she wraps the other around you and lands a hard smack on your ass, grinning when she feels you gush around her again.
You buck and writhe, and you know you have the stupidest grin plastered across your face.
She makes you dizzy.
“That’s it, baby,” she tells you. “So good, telling me what you need,”
“Fuck–” you rasp, “I’m gonna cum, Tess, please-”
She keeps to the rhythm, letting her fast strokes and the snap of her hips undo you. You’re close, so fucking close, but you can see the way she’s trembling, so focused on you, you don’t think she realises she’s close to the edge too.
Now, the only thing you want is for you both to cum together.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Tess, daddy, cum in me, please–”
A strangled moan leaves her, breathless, and she fucks into you and feels the way you tighten and pulse around the cock, feels the way you drip greedily down her thighs, and that’s enough; Tess comes with you.
As you come back out of the fog, your head is giddy with bliss. You’re tangled up, sweaty, sticky skin pressed together. You hold her close as she runs her hands up and down your back, soothing you. Your breasts are pressed together like a jigsaw puzzle, and the thought is silly, but it’s true.
The strength of your orgasm has knocked you numb, and it takes several moments for your vision and hearing to come back fully. Tess seems to be in the same boat, because it’s at the same time that you both hear it.
Slick squelches. Soft moans.
You both look over at the same time. Tess’s jaw drops. You feel another surge of arousal run through you as you focus on Joel.
“I’m- I’m sorry, honey,” he tells you, “Shouldn’t’a acted like that.”
You barely register his words. Instead, you watch how he’s stripped down near completely, barring his socks. That should make you laugh, but his legs are lewdly spread. With one hand he’s gripping his balls, clearly trying not to touch his drooling cock. With the other, he’s three fingers deep in his asshole, moving desperately. There’s a bottle of lube nearby and you can see its contents dripping down his wrist as he pumps his fingers hard and fast into his aching hole.
Tess looks stuck between telling him off for touching himself, and wholly impressed by his dedication to preparation.
“Well I’ll be damned,” she laughs, incredulous, “Someone’s eager.”
She’s still inside you, and you can feel another rush of your cum drip down the strap. An idea strikes you.
“Fuck him with it,” you tell her, looking down at the thick silicone as she glides out of you, “Fuck him with it, while it’s still dripping with me.”
Tess moves a hand to her breast, pinching and flicking at her own nipple, practically growling at your words. She stares at you for a moment. Then back to Joel.
He’s lost for words, too, it seems. He looks absolutely wrecked. His fingers are still buried deep, but they’re not moving anymore. Focus on the motion is forgotten, he’s just fixed on you both, eyes darting between you, waiting for a decision, any decision, to be made.
“Honey,” she smirks at you, “Why don’t you move over to the head of the bed there, that’s a good girl.”
You get up and scoot back, snorting a laugh as she swats at your ass while you rearrange yourself so your back is against the headboard.
“Spread those legs,” she orders. “Mmm yes, that’s it. My good fucking girl-”
She turns to Joel. “What a nice view, huh?”
Your lips are puffy and used, shining with slick. The room smells like sex, heavy and intoxicating.
“I think you’d better clean up the mess I made of her,” she gestures towards you and Joel doesn’t hesitate. “Hands and knees, Miller.”
He moves from his seat, crawling up the bed, wrapping his hands around your thighs and spreading them further.
The first stroke of his tongue feels like coming home. The hot, wet pass of it is intoxicating, and you’re already so sensitive you don’t need any focus on your clit to feel the build clutch at you again already.
“Good boy,” Tess praises him. He growls into you, the strokes of his tongue growing wider and faster, drinking up every drop of you.
He pulls away for only a moment. “Fuck me, Tess, please-”
“You focus on her and you’ll get what you need,” she promises, “But you’d better move fast, Texas.”
He sighs, but glances up at you. He nods, more weight to it than you’d expect, before he runs another lick up your cunt.
You shudder at the sensation, your legs turning to mush again. His calloused hands scrape against your thighs as he holds them apart, nuzzles at your pussy, dives back in, alternating between licking and sucking.
There are many things that can be said about the man worshiping between your legs, but no one could ever say he eats pussy with anything less than religious devotion.
He nibbles gently in a way that devastates, knocks you back and wears you down. Once you’ve hit one peak it doesn’t take you long to hit the next, and he has you on the edge so damn fast you’d feel embarrassed if you didn’t also feel so fucking good.
“Fuck,-” you breathe, “Fuck, Joel-! Can’t fucking stop coming- Fuuuckkk–!”
He blinks, dark brown eyes gazing up at you as he continues, relentless, barely impeded by the way your body is convulsing from the overwhelm of sensation.
You shudder on his mouth, legs shaking, involuntary whimpers turning into something more like panting whines and moans. You’re pretty sure the entire building can hear you. You really don’t care.
Tess has been watching the whole time, smirking but silent. Now she lines up her still-wet cock against his slick hole.
“Y’ready, Miller?” She asks, and you feel yourself melt at the tenderness of it. You fall in love just a little bit more, every time you see her soft.
He grunts an affirmation. His mouth is still on you but his movements slow and he buries his nose between your folds, nudging at you gently as Tess presses the head of her cock to his slick hole. The most beautiful whine slips out his mouth, reverberating against your cunt. You can feel the way his entire body moves, pressing up into you, as she lets herself loose, thrusting shallowly at first before snapping her hips in longer, deeper strokes.
With one particularly brutal thrust, he knocks forward. The curve of his nose hits against your clit and you come again with a shriek, soaking his face as he takes everything she gives him.
You’re worn out, spent and satisfied. You clutch him by the hair and yank him off of you, and now his moans aren’t muffled anymore.
He keeps his head between your thighs, breathing in your scent as the cum on his face cools and starts to dry. He’s loud, whining and grunting, taking Tess’s cock like it’s his only purpose.
“Fuck, Tessa-” he sobs, the heat of his breath on your used-up cunt. “Feels- so fucking- good.”
“Feels real fuckin good, don’t it?” she echoes, rhythm never ceasing, “Lettin’ your daddy fuck you like this.”
“Uh huh.”
“You wanna be good for me, say thank you?”
“I-” His words come out stilted, punctuated by each thrust. “Yes-”
“Say thank you, Daddy.”
“Thank- Thank- you- daddy-” he chokes.
“Thank you for what?” you prompt, and Tess grins. Joel looks up at you with a flash of something that could be fury or hunger.
“Thank you-” he hisses, “Thank you- daddy- for teaching me a lesson-”
“Good boy,” she soothes, “Say ‘thank you daddy, for teaching me how silly and childish I’ve been.’”
“Thank you daddy,” he echoes, “For teaching me how silly I’ve been. How childish. Ain’t been actin’ right. Not to you honey-” he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh. Closes his eyes when he speaks to her. “Not to you either, daddy.”
“You feelin good, baby?” she asks him.
He breathes out a shudder. “Feels so fucking good, but–”
“But?”
“Need more. Need to be touched.”
“Poor baby,” Tess pouts, “I’m afraid we can’t do that.”
He whines, but nods.
“But since you’re taking this lil attitude adjustment so well, I suppose we can let you cum. That sound alright to you honey?”
“Sure,” you beam, “He can rub himself up against the mattress if he likes. Cum just like that.”
“Mmm yeah,” Tess agrees, “You able to cum from rutting up against the bed?”
“Yes- yes anything, please-”
“Love it when he begs,” you sigh and Tess hums in affirmation.
She presses him down, keeps her cock in him as she knocks him so he’s flat on the bed, legs splayed, swollen dick rubbing against the covers as she holds him by the hips.
This whole time, she’s kept a steady pace. Not quite brutal, but certainly not leisurely. You see the way his own hips rock as he humps the bed, trying to find an angle that’ll give him the release he needs.
“I’m- fuck, I’m getting close Tessa– Gonna fuckin cum–”
“Good,” she smacks him hard and watches the flesh of his ass shake deliciously from the blow.
The masochist he is, it’s all he needs to tumble over the edge.
He comes with a shout, cum painting the bedsheets and pooling on the fabric, coating his stomach, his cock, his balls. Tess is still inside him, still hitting his prostate with every stroke, and it strengthens his orgasm to a point of almost overwhelming intensity. After a few moments, you’re not sure if he’ll ever stop coming, the amount of it verges on concerning as the pool of cum threatens to trickle over the edge of the bed.
Finally, his orgasm comes to an end, and Tess’s thrusts slow.
They both reel back, panting, Tess pulling out gently and Joel whimpering at the loss of sensation.
“Good boy,” she tells him, unbuckling the harness and letting the strap fall to the floor.
“Fuuuuuckkkkkk-” he sighs, and you giggle. His eyes snap up to you, but he’s laughing too.
He shakes his head and starts to peel himself up from the sticky mess he’s made. “Sorry I’m such a jackass.”
“Eh,” you shrug, “We know you’re a jackass.”
He nods, considering.
“And–” Tess joins in, “We know how to set you straight.”
He snorts.
“Just– I know you were scared out there,” you tell him, and he must’ve been fucked real good because he doesn’t even try to argue. “We’re always gonna have close calls. But we’re in this together, yeah? Don’t shut me out just because you’re afraid.”
He’s silent for a moment. Then nods at you.
“Okay, honey. And- thank you, Tessa. You know how t’ keep me in line.”
“Anytime, Texas,” she grins.
You get up and turn on the shower. The rest of the day, you’ll get clean. You’ll rest. You’ll let your aching bones start their healing. Just over the sound of the shower spray, you hear Tess speaking to Joel; “Now, unless I’m much mistaken, it’s your turn to change the sheets-”
#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#tlou#joel miller x tess servopoulos#tess servopoulos x f!reader#tess servopoulos x reader#save me daddy tess#daddy tess save me
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Hello y’all!!
I want to start with saying I appreciate all the work you do.
Is there a fic that you love but have not gotten the chance to recommend yet?
Sincerely,
A very tipsy aziracrow shipper
Hi! These are all fics I have read and loved recently, and have not recommended yet. A few post-series two amnesia fics (I went on a mini memory loss binge, so sue me) and a couple of lovely human aus....
Pure of Heart by syrupfactory (M)
Aziraphale had watched Crowley walk away, watched the door close behind him. All that remained was the peculiar tingle lingering on Aziraphale’s lips. But then, Crowley came back inside. What had changed his mind? Aziraphale never got the chance to ask. Moments later, the two of them were on the elevator with the Metatron. Aziraphale remembered it clearly as the last time he was truly happy.
Canon divergence where Crowley agreed to return to Heaven with Aziraphale, only for Crowley's memory to be wiped immediately as part of his "second chance" at being an angel.
Light the Corners of my Mind by cyankelpie (G)
Aziraphale, thirty-eighth order scrivener—at least, that's who they told him he was—wakes up from some perfectly normal memory loss to find a cryptic note written on his hand. The further he goes in his search for answers, the more questions he has. Will he ever learn why he was demoted to a desk job? Or how he'd managed to collect enough books to open a bookshop? Or why that familiar red-haired demon on Earth seems to be avoiding him?
Among the Stacks by MeinirRhos (NR)
Nearly a year after Aziraphale returns to Heaven, he vanishes from existence, leaving Crowley bereft on Earth. Just when the demon has finally started to heal and move on with his life, he finds his angel by chance in a library. But Aziraphale has no memory of his life as an angel, or of Crowley. How will our hero cope?
1 corinthians 13:1-13 by ffonippop (M)
Restless traveler, Aziraphale Fell, meets settled-down Anthony Crowley in middle-of-nowhere, Texas.
Aziraphale goes through life flitting from place to place, never staying long. He runs on the belief that if he’s not going, he’s missing out on something better. Crowley’s life is stationary. He keeps himself rooted with the belief that his life is the best it’s ever going to get, and to go would be to risk that.
Aziraphale has to go. Crowley has to stay. They have to take what they can get from each other, and that needs to be enough.
Big Name Feelings by ghostrat (E)
FANDOM AU! • Crowley is a BNF fic writer, and Aziraphale is a lurking artist who might be just a little parasocially in love with him. How they ever became friends is beyond him, but here they are: One month out from Prophet Con, and Crowley is asking him to be his boyfriend. Just for the weekend, of course.
- Mod D
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Leo's Birthday
Soooo this fic actually takes place 4 fics in the future and I'll make sure to leave it in the correct order in the masterlist. But I wrote it first and I don't have the patience to wait to post!
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“Hey, Wagner,” Dean poked his head inside of the empty conference room, where Leo was hunched over his papers, reading over a previous case similar to the one he was currently handling.
It was only his third case, he couldn’t fumble it.
“Yeah?” Leo didn’t bother looking up, so he startled when Dean suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders, “Martin, what are you doi-”
“Mark your page,” Dean bossed, squeezing his shoulder, with a smile on his face, “I gotta show you something.”
Leo scoffed at the order, but his curiosity was piqued and he obeyed, marking his page and putting the files away inside his case. They walked out of the conference room together and then entered the elevator.
“Where are we going…?” Leo frowned as Dean pressed the last digit. The top floor only had Mrs. Mitchell’s office and the rooftop…
“Wait and see,” Dean was bouncing on his feet and Leo squinted, suddenly very suspicious. Surely his co-worker wouldn’t be this happy over bad news, they were friends, so-
The door opened and Leo nearly jumped out of his skin as a huge “SURPRISE!” followed.
He startled, his back hitting the inside of the elevator, then let out a chuckle at his own expense. His coworkers were all gathered around the door. Sandra, Chuck, Nicole from the reception, Mrs. Mitchell — his boss! —, others as well.
Sandy was holding a box with a bento cake and two cupcakes inside of it. The icing was a deep, forest green, with golden flakes all over it. Their office’s colors.
“You didn’t think you could hide your birthday from us, did you Wagner? We’re professional snoopers,” Dean messed up his hair, shoving Leo out of the elevator. There was a table on the rooftop and they had piled on little tea sandwiches, more green cupcakes and a champagne bottle.
Leo’s chest squeezed with happiness, “I wasn’t hiding anything, I - I love this, thank you,” he interrupted himself, as Sandra passed the box with the mini cake and cupcakes to Chuck’s hands and pulled him into a hug to congratulate him.
It was nearly the end of their day, so they spent an hour there celebrating. Leo devoured his cake. It was almost too much for one sitting, but he hadn’t had lunch, so that hit just the right spot.
Still, as they wrapped up, he was feeling full enough he decided to skip on the two cupcakes and just bring them home for later.
“Go home, Wagner,” Mrs. Mitchell patted his arm, “and next year we hope to know with more advance than Dean guessing because he was snooping during lunch,” she rolled her eyes, “so we can have a proper lunch in celebration.”
“This was amazing, I don’t need anything else, ma’am,” Leo blushed and she wrinkled her nose at his line.
“Don’t settle for less than you deserve, Wagner. Now get out of my sight before I change my mind.”
She talked like their football coach, Leo thought with a smile, nodding and heading to the elevator. Maybe that was why he liked her so much.
Having two hours more than he had expected, Leo took his time driving home, stopping along the way to pick up flowers for their apartment and treats for JD.
Leo called Vince, but he didn’t pick up, indicating he was on the road. Jonah was surely still at the hospital. Leo took a long shower, then hit the dial to Luke, while putting the two remaining cupcakes in the fridge, taking a needless bite of one. He was bored and ready to start his birthday celebrations.
“Hi kid,” Luke picked up on the second ring, “sorry, I’m in the middle of something. Is this anything urgent?”
“No,” Leo pouted, “we can talk at the restaurant, I was just bored and wanted to chat.”
“Sorry,” Lucas sounded busy, “I’m in the shelter-”
“The homeless shelter?” Leo raised his eyebrows, squishing the phone between his cheek and shoulder and falling down to his knees as he saw JD get out from under the couch, “what are you doing there?”
“I started working here yesterday,” Luke was breathless, “I’ll tell you all about it over dinner. See you in a couple hours, kid.”
“See you,” Leo sighed, hanging up and then getting down on his stomach on the floor in order to grab his cat. JD let out an indignant meow at Leo snatching her, falling into a baby position as he cradled her, “hi baby. My cute, fluffy, prickly baby,” he said in a childish voice, feeling the judgment oozing out of his pet.
Jonah came home just as Leo was starting to get restless, moving around with nothing to do since he hadn’t planned to have free time.
“Hi!” Jon jumped as he saw Leo sprawled on the couch, already all dressed for the night, with JD getting her fur all over his fancy buttoned up shirt, since she was curled up on his stomach, “you’re home early, I was hoping- I was thinking you’d-”
Leo lifted up his head from the couch cushion, eyebrows raised at Jon’s uncharacteristic fumbling of words, “hoping I was gone?”
“Don’t say it like that,” Jonah scoffed, neatly tucking away his shoes and circling the couch in order to look at him, “don’t you look nice.”
“Thank you,” Leo grinned, lazily scratching JD’s head, “my boss gave me the last two hours of my day off, but uh… I had nothing to do, so I’ve been here, bothering JD.”
“She looks super bothered,” Jonah rolled his eyes, as their spotted cat was purring, rolled up on herself like a snake, on top of Leo, “well, I was planning on leaving this on top of the bed with a letter that said how much I love you and how incredibly successful and attentive and loving I think you are and how I wanna wake up next to you for the rest of my days, but since you’re here…” Jon sat at the edge of the couch, handing him a large silver wrapped box, “it’s nothing flashy, but you’re a lawyer, so I think I’m allowed-”
Leo raised a hand to shut him up, removing the lid of the box and then letting out a whistle, while JD got up to sniff at the wrapping paper, “this is stunning… You got my name engraved?”
“Stamped,” Jonah corrected, as Leo pulled out the dark leather case from the box, eyebrows raised at the marking that said Mr. Leo Wagner - Juris Doctorate, “I left some space there for the hyphenated Banks, if you make up your mind about it…”
Leo’s cheeks hurt from smiling, “I love it. I’m gonna use it every damn day… And I’m considering the Banks, I promise,” he leaned in to grab Jon’s shirt, pulling him for a kiss, “I love it, thank you.”
“I love you,” Jon shrugged, thumb pushing slightly on Leo’s chin, “I’m gonna shower and we can go- Stop letting JD cuddle when you’re dressed up, bloody hell, Leo.”
“She’s cute!” Leo cried out as Jon got up from the couch and rushed out. He was still completely enchanted by his new case. There were fancy instructions of use and a bottle of leather conditioner in the box, as well as a life-long warranty that made him snort.
As they made it to the restaurant, Leo’s stomach was starting to hurt from hunger. Even though he had had his mini cake in the office, three hours had passed and he was a big guy, just that wasn’t even remotely enough to sustain him.
Bella, Luke and Wendy were already inside and Leo rushed to them. The couple had literally just gotten back from their honeymoon three days ago and they hadn’t had a chance to meet yet.
“C’mere, blondie,” Bella pulled on the collar of his shirt, pulling him into a tight hug, “congratulations, Leo.”
Leo melted into the hug, wrapping his arms around her and taking Bella’s feet off the ground, tipping his body back.
They were already a bottle of wine in — not that much, considering there were five of them — when Vince entered the restaurant.
“I’m so so sorry,” Vince cried out, stripping his biker jacket and throwing it to Luke, “there was a huge tree in the road and no one could get through – it’s not important – Give me a hug!” Vin practically manhandled Leo out of his chair and the blonde let out a squeak at the ribs crushing hug, “happy birthday, kiddo.”
“I-Can’t. Breathe,” Leo gasped, making Vince chuckle and drop him. Leo dizzily staggered back, practically falling into his seat.
Conversation went on easily after that. Leo retold that evening’s events, not hiding how proud and happy he was that his boss had joined in the celebration, and Wendy had a million tales to share about the fifty different things she was doing. Luke and Bella couldn’t shut up about the Maldives, still grossly all over each other despite spending nearly a month away with no one but each other’s company.
Jonah brought up Angie’s proposition while they went through the second main dish – lobster — and Luke shrugged, “I think it’s a brilliant idea.”
“Of course you do, you don’t work,” Jonah wrinkled his nose, causing Luke to glare at him and Leo to snort, continuing to eat his food.
“I’ll have you know I actually got a job,” Lucas shrugged, as if those weren’t big news and didn’t mean a lot, considering how much of his mental health deteriorating was tied to his career path or lack of one.
“What’s the job?!” Vince practically rattled him and Luke chuckled, pushing his hands away.
“I’m a charity fundraiser,” Lucas was almost beaming with how happy he was and Bella threw an arm around his shoulders, planting a big lipstick-red kiss on his cheek, “I’m not gonna take credit for this, it was actually a culmination of my therapist asking me to get a couple vocational therapy sessions, my beautiful wife telling me to stop sulking about being rich, and me finally using my head.”
“Whatever does that mean?” Leo asked, leaning back on his chair. His stomach was stuffed with food and there was still dessert to go. He fidgeted on his seat, wishing he could rub his belly or loosen up his belt, but it would be bad form in an upscale place such as this.
“Well, I have the political connections thanks to my mom, I have the glamorous connections thanks to my dad, but I never wanted to do anything with those. They always felt like a burden,” Luke blushed, “but that was silly. There’s people who’d kill to be able to get things as easily as I can, so I realized I can use these connections for good-”
“By making rich people give away their money,” Vince chuckled, clicking his glass with Bella and the ginger nodded almost smugly.
“It’s not just that,” Luke whined, but he didn’t seem offended, “you actually need to know laws, but lucky me, I’m a Poli Sci major… And I happen to be really good at leading teams and bossing people.”
“We already knew that, Captain,” Leo winked at Luke, leaning to his side and half resting against Jonah, as the conversation continued, Wendy was full of questions about Luke’s new position, even after him saying he was not in charge of anything, but working under a guy. She had that ambitious little sparkle in her eye that often found a twin in Jonah’s.
Not this time, tonight Jon was too busy saving all of his heart eyes for Leo. He leaned in, pressing his nose to the blonde’s temple and smiling, “enjoying yourself?”
“Uh-hum,” Leo nodded, biting down a grimace as his stomach cramped. Maybe he had overdone it… He just needed a moment, Leo thought, breathing through it and glaring in disgust to his empty plate. He really shouldn’t have cleared the plate.
Probably noticing his grimace, a waiter quickly came to retrieve all the plates, then hung around as they chatted about dessert. Leo felt a wave of revulsion at the thought of eating another bite. His tummy was packed and he could feel a lump in his throat.
He coughed lightly against his fist and squeezed Jon’s knee, “order me a water? I gotta go to the bathroom.”
“Of course,” Jon nodded, still lazily studying the menu and letting out a chuckle as Wendy pulled her chair closer to him, impromptu giving him advice on what to pick.
Leo circled the table, when he passed by the guys, Vince darted out a hand in a teasing manner, giving his back a pat.
It wouldn’t have mattered on any other day, but stuffed as he was, the little friendly pat — that was a bit rough, given Vince never seemed to have understood he was not the size of a kitten — caused a sick burp to come up.
It fizzled out in his throat, but brought with it the taste of his dinner, causing Leo to shudder. He burst into the men’s room and caught a glimpse of his face.
The wine had done a decent job at masking his paleness, because despite the fact he had turned belly-fish white in the last couple of minutes, the alcohol still caused the top of his cheeks to be a starkling pink.
He leaned over the sink, splashing his face with water and taking some soothing breaths. The hunched over position caused his stomach to slosh dangerously and Leo let out yet another little burp under his breath, glancing at the door nervously as he touched his belly.
Deciding he didn’t want to risk getting walked on by one of his friends, Leo stumbled to the private stalls and locked the door. He sat on the toilet instead of leaning over it like his belly was begging him to, then spread his legs out and undid his belt.
The relief was instantaneous and Leo all but melted as the nausea eased up. He planted a hand on his stomach, tugging up his black button up, and scrunched up his face as he looked at his belly. His abs were a far cry from the morning, now his stomach was taut and stretched out, gurgling non stop.
It wasn’t something they’d be able to hear over the chatting and the soft piano music in the restaurant, but in the empty bathroom he could hear it clearly. Leo groaned, planting the heel of his hand to his tummy and pressing in little circles.
The belly rub wasn’t quite successful and nowhere near as nice as Jonah’s were, but at least it managed to bring up yet another breathy burp- He lurched forward with a much bigger one, that nearly morphed into a retch. Leo slapped a hand over his mouth, shocked and breathing hard, trying to understand if his stomach was going to reject his dinner.
Instead, the near gag seemed to have calmed things down a bit. He carefully removed his hand from his lips, wiping the clammy sweat from his upper lip and breathing out. That was close.
Figuring he had been gone long enough, Leo begrudgingly got up, closing his belt once more and tucking his shirt in. He splashed his face with some more cold water and took a breath, forcing himself to get out of the bathroom.
The minute he walked out, a hand was planted over his eyes and everything went dark. Leo let out a startled squeak, which morphed into a hiccup and Jonah laughed at the noise, kissing his cheek.
“Relax,” he whispered in his ear, guiding Leo to walk forward, blindly, “happy birthday, baby.”
He lowered his hand and Leo realized Jon had walked him back to their table. Now their friends were standing and there was a large cake in the middle of the table, with candles sticking out and already alight.
Just the sight of it made his stomach churn, but Leo wasn’t lying when he smiled. The effort his friends had gone through to get him the perfect cake mattered much more than his bellyache and he shoved it to the back of his mind, grinning like crazy as they started to chorus in the happy birthday song.
Leo’s cheek turned a deep red as he noticed other strangers looking at their table, some even joining the singing. He turned his head, hiding it on Jonah’s shoulder and his fiance smiled, squeezing him closer as they finished up the song and Leo leaned to blow out the candles.
He got pulled in yet another round of hugs and finally Leo fell back down on his seat, on the opposite side of the table. The brief truce he had earned from his tummy back in the bathroom was broken and he was hiccuping, causing Vince to giggle as he let out a little squeaky-toy noise.
“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” Vin chuckled, pushing a plate with a slice of cake his way and then passing Jonah another one, “dig in, kiddo, it’s your favorite. Chocolate on chocolate on chocolate.”
Sounded like hell, Leo thought with a small grimace, but then his stomach sank as he heard Vince’s next words, “my mom was appalled she shouldn’t put in any fruit.”
“Your mom- Ma made my cake?” Leo asked, both moved and completely distraught as he realized there was no way he could avoid eating now.
“Sorry guys, there was a huge tree on the road,” Wendy mimicked her boyfriend’s excuse from before, forcing a deep voice, “he was late because it was a whole logistic nightmare to bring the cake from Doveport, but Ma insisted, you’re like… Her favorite.”
Luke scoffed, “which is very unfair, I’d just like to point it out,” he said in a teasing way, “I’m supposed to be the favorite.”
“Shut up, Luke,” Bella chuckled, shushing him with a little kiss and stealing a piece of his slice of cake, even though she had her own.
Leo eyed the cake with disgust, nodding and forcing a smile. His mouth watered at the thought of pushing any more sweetness in his tummy, but he ignored it, grabbing the fork.
Jonah was scratching his back with one hand, continuing to eat and humming in agreement to the compliments about Ma’s cooking and the fact Leo was her favorite out of Vince’s friends. He was blissfully unaware of the turmoil his boyfriend was in and barely registered as Leo pushed half of his slice on his plate, giving up halfway through.
He couldn’t even swallow what was currently in his mouth. Leo tried gulping it down, but his throat was refusing to cooperate. He hiccuped again and this time he couldn’t help but groan, as liquid rocketed up his throat.
“I’m gonna get the bill,” Jonah whispered, squeezing his nape and getting up, beating Luke to it.
Leo groaned, barely trying to hide how shitty he was feeling. His friends were all getting up and then Vince circled the table, grinning, “are you drunk, kiddo? That was almost nothing compared to what I’ve seen you drink-”
“No-” he finally managed to gulp down the chocolate mess in his mouth and felt cold sweat break out on his back, his stomach immediately rejecting it, “ate- ate- HIC!- Fuck, too much…”
Vince chuckled, grabbing his arm, “Okay, let’s go outside for some air. C’mon-”
He gently shoved Leo forward and they walked out of the restaurant, Leo continuing to hiccup.
The cool air was nice, but Leo knew he was past the point where a breeze could help. He cupped his mouth, muffling yet another little burp and groaning as a hiccup shook him once more, causing his stomach to clench.
“Shit- Vince,” Leo grabbed his friend’s arm, gulping down nervously and trying to communicate he was gonna puke-
“BOO!” Wendy jumped on him and Leo lost his weak hold on his stomach. He let out a choking noise and folded in half, puking all over the patch of sidewalk and Wendy’s pink and green heels.
It was so violent that Leo felt dizzy. His eyes stung with humiliation and his nose with the acid that tickled it. He stayed bent down, unable to straighten up not only because he was so embarrassed, but because his belly felt far from settled.
He closed his eyes, letting out a whimper, and then felt a hand in the middle of his back, rubbing up and down. Too rough to be Jonah’s.
“What the hell, Leo?” Wendy groaned, while Luke said, “Wen, chill out,” and helped him straighten up. He was the one who had stepped closer. Vince and Bella looked equally shocked, Bella was the one carrying the box with the rest of his cake and she was clutching it to her chest.
“Sorry-” Leo groaned, feeling his whole face burn and his throat close up, now with tears, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”
“It’s fine,” Wendy scoffed, as Vince grabbed her by her armpits and helped her slide out of her shoes without having to touch the chocolate vomit covering them, “god, this is gross…”
“Wendy,” Luke stressed, squeezing Leo’s shoulder, “what’s wrong, Leo?”
“Sorry,” he groaned again, sniffling pitifully, “I just- I just had so much to eat and then Wendy startled me and- Why did you startle me?!”
“Because you were hiccuping!” Wendy scoffed, with a disgusted frown on, using Bella’s shoulder to steady herself as she tiptoed away from the mess. Vince seemed to have gotten over the shock and only looked amused, snorting at his girlfriend’s answer, “I was trying to help!”
“Amazing,” Jonah said, half amused, half annoyed, jumping down the last steps and joining them outside, “Leo, are you okay?”
“I wanna die,” Leo groaned, but at least the nausea had calmed down a little. Not fully, he still felt stuffed and his stomach was still churning, but he no longer felt like he was going to throw up right at that minute…
“You’re fine, Wendy will live,” Jonah rolled his eyes at Wendy’s little huff, but she did sigh and nod.
“Just because it’s your birthday I won’t yell at you,” she said, then in a much kinder voice, “at least do you feel better?”
“Not really,” Leo admitted, leaning on Jonah’s touch and wanting to crawl up somewhere dark and die. More people were leaving the restaurant and he wanted to hide away from their eyes, feeling like everyone knew… His stomach churned and he planted a hand on it, grimacing, “can we go home?”
Jon frowned, touching his face lightly, subtly checking for any heat, then nodded when he felt none, “yeah, of course. You guys can keep the cake, I don’t think anyone is going to eat it at home,” his voice had a slightly humorous tone and Leo blushed, but just the thought of the chocolate cake made his belly gurgle.
He groaned, “don’t even talk about it,” Leo wrapped an arm around his middle, squeezing his eyes shut as the queasiness started to come back. Luke thumped on his back in a sympathetic manner.
“Feel better, kiddo,” he smiled, “and happy birthday.”
Leo whined as the rest of their friends did the same, side stepping the mess to tell him goodbye, Wendy being the last one.
She squeezed his arm, “happy birthday, Leo,” her tone was teasing, “at least the hiccups stopped?”
“God, go away,” Leo groaned, muffling a burp in his hand and she grinned, kissing Jonah’s cheek.
“You owe me a new pair of Jimmy Choo’s” Wendy warned him, waving and running to where Vince was waiting for her on his bike.
Leo let out a sigh, falling against Jonah and groaning when his fiance let out a little chuckle at his expense. “What the fuck is a Jimmy Choo?” Leo asked, his voice muffled by Jon’s shirt, allowing the other man to pull him back to the car.
#sickfic#overeating#emeto#emetophilia#mywriting#leo wagner#food poisoning#uh that's sort of a spoiler
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Yew (Part 1)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Relationship: Male Centaur/Male Centaur
Additional Tags: Exophilia, Centaurs, MLM
Content Warnings: Amputee, Amputated Leg, Prosthetics
Series: Part 12 of Monster Lovers: Shelter Forest
Words: 4,101
Yew finally gets his own fic! Yew makes his very first rescue: a surly centaur dumped on the side of the road. Please reblog and leave feedback!
Ethari was losing his vision rapidly. He hadn’t eaten in days, the fever was taking over his entire body, and the blood loss had rendered him extremely frail. The ranch hands had dropped him on the side of the road somewhere, but he wasn’t sure where. He kept trying to stand, but in his delirium, he forgot that his left foreleg up to the knee was now missing and unable to take any weight, so he continuously stumbled and fell into the mud of the roadside.
He fell for a final time, completely sapped of strength, and as he was losing consciousness, he heard a voice call out.
“I knew it! I saw someone! Mama, hurry!”
In his dimming perception, he saw a dark face with green-blue eyes and a fluff of white hair haloed around their head.
“You’re gonna be alright,” They said softly. “Everything’s going to be alright.”
And Ethari passed out.
When he awoke again, he was inside a stall lying on rough burlap cushions instead of hay or straw and was covered with several blankets to guard against the winter cold. Panicking, he began kicking the walls with his back legs. He had been conditioned not to scream or yell, so kicking was the only means of rebellion or dissent he was capable of. So he kicked hard over and over, making a lot of noise in the process.
“Oi, oi!” A voice called. Ethari saw the face of a handsome man look into the open upper half of the stall door. He had blue eyes, tanned skin, and dark hair. “Could you keep it down? My wife is resting.”
“Who are you?” Ethari asked aggressively, his voice raspy and harsh to his own ear. “What’s going on, where am I?”
“Ugh, I hate dealing with pissy, angry males. Yew! Would you come and deal with this, please? I need to look after Hazel.”
The handsome face disappeared momentarily, and the full door swung open, revealing that the handsome face was attached to a brown centaur body with black socks and a black tail, which flicked back and forth in agitation. He wore a bright red winter coat on his upper body and a matching riding blanket on his back.
Seeing one of his own kind, Ethari relaxed slightly without realizing it.
“I thought she was feeling better,” Said another voice, almost chirpy sounding, and a beautiful, slender, black-and-white piebald centaur entered Ethari’s vision. Ethari recognized him as the person he’d seen when he was blacking out on the roadside. The skin of his upper torso was so dark that it was nearly black, contrasting starkly with his pale eyes, curly mop of white hair, and long, feathery lashes. He wore a black winter coat and riding blanket, both with intricate white stitching.
“She still needs rest,” The other centaur said, annoyed. There was a knock that came from somewhere in the building, and Birch’s head swiveled sharply to look in that direction. “Keep this guy quiet, would you? If she takes a bad turn, I’m taking it out on him, I don’t care how hurt he is.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Yew said, waving him away.
The brown centaur dashed off, disappearing from view, and the black and white centaur came into the stall, which was spacious enough to allow him inside with Ethari comfortably.
“Sorry about him,” He said, and it was then that Ethari realized he was carrying a tray with fruit and vegetables on it on one arm and a simple brown wool coat in the other. “He’s really touchy when it comes to Hazel. You shouldn’t move around so much, you know, since you were a proper mess to clean up. You've lost a lot of blood; it took my mother ages to stop the bleeding. There were bone fragments in the stump that had to be removed, too, and you’ve got a nasty infection. You’re gonna feel like pounded garbage for quite a while, so try not to reopen the wound and make it worse.”
“Where am I?” Ethari repeated. “Who are you?”
“I’m Yew,” The centaur said, setting the tray on a low table nearby. It was one of several items of furniture that seemed designed with four-legged folks in mind. “You���re in a guest stall at my parents’ farm, the barn specifically. You’ve been out for a couple of days. Mama was worried you’d starve. Here, put this on. It’s cold.”
He held out the coat for Ethari to take, which he did, snatching it out of his hands roughly. Once he had shrugged it on, Yew reached out to touch Ethari, and Ethari flinched, slapping his hand away.
“Relax, I’m just checking your temperature,” Yew said, knocking Ethari’s hand aside and placing his palm on his forehead. “You’re still feverish, but you’re not boiling like you were two days ago.”
Ethari swiped at him, his anxiety spiking. “Get off me! What are you people going to do to me?” He asked indignantly, trying to back away from Yew but not getting far.
“Nothing?” Yew replied, tilting his head. “Other than overfeed you, maybe. My papa is always encouraging people to eat more. Speaking of which, you must be hungry, right? Eat.” Yew motioned at the tray. “Don’t try to stand up yet. We’ve contacted my brother, Cetzu; he’s really good at carving. He may be able to fix you up.”
“What are you talking about?” Ethari said distrustfully. “What do you mean? What do you people want from me?”
“Like I said, nothing,” Yew said, moving toward the door. “Eat your food before you pass out again. Keep the noise down, though. Birch’s threats aren’t empty. If you disturb Hazel at all, he’ll knock you on your tail.”
“I’m already on my tail,” Ethari said sarcastically.
Yew laughed good naturedly.
“I suppose that’s true. Eat.” And with that, Yew closed his door.
As soon as there was no one in sight, Ethari began wolfing down the food that was offered. He knew he would make himself sick doing that, but he couldn’t control himself; he was literally starving. Thankfully there wasn’t too much on the tray, perhaps because they knew he would have gorged himself if there was, so he wasn’t grossly over-full. There was a jug of water on the table and he drank deeply from it, not even bothering to use a cup.
After he finished, he made an attempt to stand, only to stumble and fall immediately. Groaning in frustration, he thumped his hands against the floor. Unable to move and suddenly exhausted, despite his anxiety and fear, Ethari passed out once more.
When he woke up again, it was dark. His stall door was open and there was a candle burning on the frame of the door. Yew was kneeling on his belly just outside of his stall door, knotting cord by candlelight.
“What do you want?” Ethari snapped.
Yew looked up. “Ah, you’re awake.” He set the cord aside and got to his feet, bringing in another tray of food and taking the empty one.
“Why didn’t you just let me die?” Ethari asked. “What do you get out of helping me?”
“Why would we need to get something out of it?” Yew asked, tilting his head again as if he didn’t understand. He reminded Ethari of a puppy he once knew, ages and ages ago. “That’s not something we care about around here.”
Ethari grunted distrustfully. Yew knelt down next to him and regarded him thoughtfully. Ethari leaned back, glaring at Yew.
“Am I allowed to leave?” Ethari asked.
“Well, sure,” Yew said. “If you really want to leave, we won’t stop you, but I… can’t imagine you’d get far at the moment. You can’t even stand up yet.”
Ethari couldn’t argue with that, but he wasn’t about to say it out loud.
“You’re from a ranch, too, aren’t you?” Yew said suddenly.
Ethari blinked. “Too?” He echoed, surprised out of his wary demeanor. He didn’t need to ask what kind of ranch Yew meant.
“Yeah,” Yew pulled his curly hair aside and showed Ethari the ear with the puncture hole in it from where the cattle tag had been. “My brother, Birch, and I escaped from one years ago when I was seven, from the big continent north of here. Did you escape too?”
“I don’t know you. I don’t have to tell you anything,” Ethari said hotly.
“No, I know that,” Yew said, but he waited expectantly, his expression open and curious.
“I didn’t escape,” Ethari said eventually, if reluctantly. “There was… an accident.” He shifted his missing leg, and then stopped and winced when the pain got worse. “I couldn’t work anymore, so they were sending me somewhere, but I don’t know where. When they realized I was dying, they dumped me on the road.” He peered at Yew. “How did you know?”
“You don’t have a tag like Birch and I did, but I can tell. You’ve got whip marks on your flanks and I saw what seemed like shackle marks on your back legs. I’ve seen enough of those in my youth to know exactly what it means.” Yew sighed despondently. “I didn’t realize there were slave ranches here.”
For the first time, he looked sad and disheartened. It didn’t suit him, Ethari thought. He looked better when he had that big, dopey smile on his face.
“Officially, there aren’t,” Ethari told him. “It’s operating illegally, I gather. That’s why they were sending me away. I heard that legal ranches have to report accidents to the local lord, for compensation. I can’t collect compensation as a slave, and the owners can’t report and out themselves for owning slaves illegally. So they had to get rid of me. I don’t know what their original plan was. I shudder to imagine, though.”
“Are there others? I mean centaurs, like us?”
Ethari shook his head. “Only me and two others. They’re still there. They were sold to the ranch from the colosseum in the big city, what’s it called? Dunmountain? Around there. They have debts to pay, so they’re indentured. My mother was also enslaved there, but she died four winters back. I think she was indentured, too, but we never talked about it. She didn’t like to bring it up. But when she died, I inherited her debts, so…”
“Are there others besides centaurs? How many?”
“A dozen, I think? There could be more I don’t know about, I was confined to the fields and the barn, so there were places on the ranch I’d never seen or entered.”
“Where is it? The ranch, I mean,” Yew asked, a strange glint in his eye. A hint of anger, perhaps? Another emotion that didn’t suit his face.
“I don’t know,” Ethari admitted. “I was born and raised there. This is the first time I’ve ever been off the ranch in my life.”
“It feels weird, huh?” Yew said with a sad smile. “Like you should be doing something. You’re not used to sitting still in one place, right?”
Ethari paused and nodded, grimacing. “I feel… off. Out of place. The ranch was terrible, but… it’s familiar. I know what to expect there. All this…” He waved at the stall and gestured at Yew. “I don’t know what any of this is.”
Yew nodded. “It’ll feel strange for a while. Don’t worry. Everything will be alright.”
Ethari couldn’t help but allow the corner of his mouth to go up slightly.
“You sound so certain of that.”
Yew grinned. “I am.” Yew got to his feet and made to leave. “Eat and rest. Don’t worry about a thing. Mama will be in in the morning to check on you, but don’t be rude to her; she saved your life.” He pointed a finger at Ethari in warning, but Yew looked so unserious that Ethari nearly laughed. “One thing you gotta know about me: I’m a mama’s boy through and through, so don’t you go disrespecting my mama.”
Ethari snorted. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
The next morning, Ethari was awoken by the door of his stall opening and an older human woman with greying hair entered, wearing a blouse and sensible trousers and carrying a bag.
“You’re not a centaur,” Ethari said.
“Well-spotted,” She said with a lilt in her voice. “You’ll be hard pressed to find many of your kind on this continent. There are only a handful or so that I know of, besides my boys, and that includes you.”
“You’re Yew’s mother?”
“The very same,” She said, reaching out her hand for a handshake. “I’m Ryel.”
Ethari didn’t take her hand, simply glared at it distrustfully, and she eventually dropped it.
“I’m here to change your bandages,” Ryel said. “Are you gonna let me do that?”
“Just don’t do anything funny,” Ethari said, leaning a bit so she could get to the stump.
“I don’t have a funny bone in my body, child,” She said with a chuckle. Ethari suddenly saw where Yew got his sense of humor.
“So, Yew’s adopted, then?”
“Of course,” Ryel said, pulling off the dirty bandages. “All of my children are adopted. My husband and I can’t have children, so we opened our home to the ones who need one.”
“How many kids do you have?”
“Certainly more than most, but we like it that way. There are always more kids that need homes, and we like being that home. We’ll likely be taking them in until we die, and our kids will continue the tradition. That’s why we started this place.”
“Hmm,” Ethari hummed, and then winced when she began cleaning the wound. “Is that big brown asshole yours, too?”
Ryel laughed. “Oh, yes, he’s mine. Don’t take his current attitude to heart, child. He and Hazel got married recently, and Hazel’s been in delicate health lately, and he’s a little frazzled. He’s normally more level-headed.”
“I don’t care,” Ethari said. “I’m not going to be here long enough to find out.”
“If you say so,” Ryel said. She began rewrapping the wound. “Although, I’d wager you’ll be here for quite a while. Cetzu, another of my sons, will be here in a few days. He runs an orphanage in Coleville and he hates leaving it for too long, but he’s agreed to help fit you with a prosthetic. You’ll have to wait a few months for your stump to heal before you can even start to get used to using it, but there’s no reason not to start making it now. It can be adjusted once you’re able to wear it.”
“And how much is that going to cost me?” Ethari asked bitterly. “What am I going to have to do to pay you back?”
“Well, that’s not necessary, but hands are always helpful,” Ryel said. “Besides, it’s the chilly season, so there’s really nothing to do at the moment. All the canning and jarring is done, and there are only a few winter crops out in the fields right now which they don’t need much tending to and pretty much grow on their own, so there’s not really any need for you to do anything besides recover.”
He grunted, not sure if he believed her.
“And more to the point,” She continued as she packed up the medical bag. “You’re not in any condition to be doing any paying back, as it is.”
“I’ll accept that,” He said begrudgingly. “I guess I don’t need to worry about it for a while, then.”
“No reason to worry about it at all,” Ryel said with a laugh. “Listen, son, I get why you’ve got misgivings, but really, we don’t expect anything from you beyond getting better. Whatever you want to do once you’re up and about is your prerogative.”
“If you say so,” He replied.
“You don’t have to believe me, child,” Ryel said, standing. “Rest. Yew will be in soon with your breakfast.”
“Why him?” Ethari asked peevishly.
“I suppose he feels responsible for you, having been the one to find you. You’re his first rescue, after all.” Ryel sighed. “You don’t have to like him, you know, but he’s just trying to help.” And she left.
It wasn’t so much that Ethari didn’t like Yew, it’s just that Yew… was too perceptive. He saw more than Ethari wanted him to see. It made him uncomfortable. And he was too… happy. Ethari was used to being surrounded by those who were beaten down by their lives and circumstances, so he assumed most people were like that. He’d never met anyone who could brighten a room just by walking in it, the way Yew could. It almost hurt to look at Yew. He was like sunlight, but the kind that suddenly flooded a darkened room that light hadn’t touched in years, blinding and painful.
Soon enough, Yew arrived with another tray, just as Ryel said, but Ethari was squirming by the time he showed up.
“What’s up with you?” Yew asked, noticing Ethari fidget. “Did you eat something bad?”
Ethari growled. “I… have to…”
“Hmm? Speak up, I can’t hear you.”
“I need the privy!” Ethari said loudly, embarrassed.
“Oh!” Yew said, seemingly unfazed. “No problem, I’ll help. Here.” Yew held out his hands. “Stand up. You can lean on me.”
Still distrustful but slightly desperate, Ethari took Yew’s hands and, after some struggle, managed to haul himself unsteadily to his feet. Yew swung around and used his own body to support the length of Ethari’s body. Slowly, with a lot of help from Yew, Ethari was able to limp out of the barn. Some of the other stalls also seemed to be occupied, but the doors were closed so Ethari couldn’t see inside.
“Are there other four-legged folk here?” Ethari asked.
“There’s Reed. He’s a deertaur, really rare. He’s smaller than centaurs, but he’s got antlers, so he needs as much room as we do. I’ve never even seen another person like him.”
“Neither have I,” Ethari said, surprised. “I wasn’t even aware there was such a thing.”
“There’s one more, I fibbed. Reed’s daughter is half-deertaur, but she takes after him and has four legs. She got her own stall recently, just turned thirteen. She’s at that age where she doesn’t want to share a room with her parents anymore, you know.”
“I don’t know, actually.”
Yew laughed. “His son, River, has two legs, like his mother, but he’s got hooves, too. He’s really unique. Lymera has hooves too, but she’s a fawn, so that’s not unusual. She used to stay in the barn, as well. She liked it better than the house.”
Ethari made a face. “Why are you telling me all this?”
Yew laughed again. “Because you asked?”
“I didn’t ask for the roster of your family, I just asked if there were four-legged folks besides you and your surly brother.”
“True, but it doesn’t hurt to know. Besides, talking takes your mind off the pain. Hurts more when you’re quiet, doesn’t it? Talking distracts you.”
It was excruciatingly slow progress, but finally they reached the latrine at the edge of the treeline. It was far enough away that the smell didn’t reach the house of the barn, but that meant getting there was an undertaking for Ethari. He was exhausted by the time he got there. He was able to enter by leaning his body against the walls of the latrine and limping inside, but once he had finished his business in there, it took all his strength not to collapse.
“I need to rest for a moment,” Ethari said, breathing heavily.
“Here, let’s get away from the latrine first,” Yew said, swinging around to support him again. Yew managed to get him to a patch of moss before Ethari practically fell.
“I feel like I’m gonna hurl,” Ethari said, his upper torso bent and resting against a nearby tree.
“Try not to, it’s not good for our kind to vomit,” Yew said, holding Ethari’s hair. “We’re too similar to horses like that.”
“I’m fully aware of that,” Ethari snipped. “But that knowledge doesn’t help me in this situation.”
“You want a beer?” Yew asked. “Birch always drinks when he feels sick. Counter-intuitive, I know, but it seems to help him.”
“A beer would be amazing right now,” Ethari admitted.
“Be right back,” Yew said, and dashed off.
Ethari tried to breathe through the nausea, willing himself to keep his breakfast in his stomach, and heard four legs trotting up.
“I had to fight Birch to get it,” Yew said, handing Ethari a wooden cup. “He really doesn’t like you.”
“I don’t like him either,” You said peevishly, taking the cup and gulping swallows of the beer slowly. “Don’t you drink? I’ve never met a centaur who doesn’t drink. We were allowed beer even on the ranch.”
Yew shrugged. “It’s just not for me. I can supplement what I need from alcohol with other things. Besides, I prefer wine, but it’s hard to store wine here. I get it every once in a while as a treat, but I don’t need it all the time.”
“And you call yourself a centaur,” Ethari said, snickering.
“Hey, don’t tease, I already get enough of that from Birch.”
You drained the cup and handed it back. “Is Birch the only one who drinks around here?”
Yew nodded. “Afraid so. If you need more, you’ll have to go through him.”
“Can’t I just go through you? Wouldn’t he give you some if you asked?”
“Well, sure, but he knows I don’t drink. You might want to work on getting in his good graces.”
“Ugh,” Ethari grunted. “I just can’t wait to kiss that guy’s ass.”
Yew laughed. “All you gotta do is be nice to Hazel. That’s his softest spot. He really loves her.”
“Hmm,” Ethari hummed, pensive. “I wonder what that feels like.”
“Me too,” Yew said wistfully. “I’m kind of jealous of them, to be honest.”
“You’re too young to think that way.”
“Am I?” He said, tilting his head again. “I don’t think so. I think it’s normal to think about things like this. Being in love with someone is nearly impossible in a place like a ranch, where people are just trying to survive, so I think it’s normal to wonder about what loving someone feels like. Didn’t you just say that?”
Ethari snorted. “I guess I did. You’re still too young. You’re not even twenty yet, right?”
“So what?” Yew said, shrugging. “I’m old enough to get married, so I’m more than old enough to wonder.” Yew looked up toward the house. “Ah! Cetzu is here. I expected him to take longer, but he probably just wants to get back quicker. He’s another one who’s a fool for his family.”
“The orphanage director?” Ethari asked. “And wood carver?”
“He’s really a jack-of-all-trades type. He’ll fix you up. Do you think you can make it back to the barn?”
Ethari sighed heavily. “I’ll try.”
“Let me know if you can’t. I’ll get the boys to lift you like we did the day we found you.”
Ethari grimaced at the thought. “No, on second thought, I’ll make it. If it kills me, I’ll make it on my own.” He peered up at Yew in an unfriendly way. “Well… help me up, would you?”
Yew laughed again. “Yes, yes, come on.”
With Yew’s help, Ethari managed to return to his stall in the barn, though he was so exhausted that he hit the ground as soon as he entered it. He was breathing hard, his heart beating out of his chest. He was in immense pain from that small amount of physical activity.
“I think I’m dying,” He wheezed.
“No, you’re not dying,” Yew said, helping him out of his coat and covering him with blankets again. “But maybe we should see about fashioning you some sort of bedpan, so you don’t have to move again.”
“That sounds like a nightmare, but let’s do that,” Ethari said. “I don’t think I can move again for a while.”
Yew laid his body down next to Ethari, covering him with blankets and using his own body to warm him.
“You’ll be alright, Ethari,” Yes said softly, patting his back. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you die. You’ve got your whole life left to live, now that you’re out of that place.” He pulled Ethari’s sweat drenched hair away from his face. “Don’t worry,” He repeated. “I’ll take care of you.”
Ethari lost consciousness, the last sensation he felt were Yew’s fingertips against his forehead.
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I do a little writing too, I humbly offer you all a lil teaser from the fic I got in the works. I found the idea of the hungry and horny impulses getting a little muddled for him amusing and couldn't resist working it in.
<warning for suggestive content, not quite smut part of the prelude>
o0o
“Give yourself to me.”
It was neither a command nor a request, but somewhere in between. She blinked, four arms reaching out and pulling her in. Two hands gripped her hips, guiding her forward until she stood practically in his lap. He buried his face in her neck, nose grazing her skin as he drew in a languid breath, taking in her scent. The sting of the salt of the surf was softened by the aroma of floral perfume oils and tea leaves, lingering in her hair with something warm beneath like sunshine on a summer's day. Lips pressed to the thin skin over the column of her throat, feeling the quiet breath she sucked in. He’d considered taking her before, the temptation and desire to consume her in every sense of the word a tantalizing prospect. But something within him remained indecisive. The supple softness of her flesh in his hands made his mouth water and his cocks twitch, but he was torn between two separate compulsions. He wanted to devour her. Wanted to taste her; her skin, blood, muscle, sweat, tears. The distinction between the two impulses was muddled. He no longer had the patience to sort out which was more compelling, choosing to start with one and see where it would lead. His upper hands slowly untied her obi, face remaining nuzzled in her neck as he lazily placed kiss after kiss, feeling her pulse racing with every gentle caress. Thin hands came to rest against his collarbones, but didn’t push away. Already he could feel the heat rising across her skin.
“Spend the night with me.” He urged, pulling back just enough to look her in the eye, azure hues bearing an intensity and hunger she’d yet to see.
Her heart skipped a beat, so entranced that she almost failed to notice the sudden slack in her obi. Before she could respond he was loosening it until the coils pooled at her feet in a heap. “W-Wait,” It wasn’t that she didn’t like the idea of where things were going, but she feared she wouldn’t live up to expectations. “I don’t know if we should…”
He paused, thumbs rubbing slow circles across the front of her hips, pleased at the subtle shift in the way she stood, thighs pressing together at the proximity and stimulation. “Are you afraid?” He asked, upper hands brushing the hair over her shoulders and nudging the neckline of her kimono lower.
The nerves made her dizzy and her stomach flipped. No, she wasn’t afraid of him. Daunted? Most definitely, but not afraid. “No…” His warmth against her palms was steadying and she focused on it to ground herself. “I only worry that I may disappoint. Surely you could choose someone better to spend your evening with?” It pained her somewhat to make the suggestion, but the fear of letting him down was greater than her desire.
He let out a low chuckle, a twinge of malice dancing mirthfully in his eyes. “Your only fear is of not being able to satisfy?” He smirked, “What a foolish woman. Have you no sense of self preservation?”
Her face flushed, burning with embarrassment. Brow furrowed, her expression bordered on a pout. “I trust you.” She insisted stubbornly, a stunning sincerity in silver hues as she held his gaze.
An astounded cackle rumbled forth from him at her admission. “Foolish and obstinate.” Nearly grinning, he hummed in mock consideration, thoroughly amused. His thumbs ceased their motions, squeezing her hips lightly as he leaned closer. “You should be more careful who you trust, little asobi.”
#jjk#jjk ryomen#jjk ryomen sukuna#jjk sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna ryomen#jjk oc#jjk fanfic#jjk smut#sukuna smut#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#jujutsu kaisen fanfic
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Leaving Tonight.
Pairing - Ellie Williams x Fem!reader
a.n - hey everyone :))..I’ve really been trying to write what makes me comfortable enough to put on my blog, as well as trying not to worry if it’ll get thousands of notes. I’m just all about the vibes of my fics now..this doesn’t mean I’ll stop writing smut however, it’ll just be less frequent or have a buildup beforehand. So if you like that, don’t worry..this has been sitting in my drafts since last year and technically isn't finished but i also feel like ending it on the note it does is..evil, so it's perfect. Enjoy. <3
Warnings - Provocative language, Ellie self sabotages, potential tlou II spoilers, mentions (?) of a canon character death, mentions (?) of grief, depression, the whole nine yards, copy and pasted from the game, no comfort because I’m a monster!
It’s like a bunch of broken picture frames but,
The smell of pumpkin spice filled the air of you and Ellie’s shared home. You both had the perfect life. Running away from your small town to live together. As one..
In another reality.
But this one, no..that was nearly impossible considering the circumstances.
The photo still remains the same.
Considering Ellie had watched someone so close to her take their last breath. At the hands of a woman she still didn’t know. At the hands of a woman she was infatuated with in every worst way possible.
And you were just standing in the way.
You tried to pretend like everything was okay. To take Ellie’s mind off of the horrors she’d been exposed to. But it was just..impossible. You knew she couldn’t forget something like that. Let alone be a happy girl. And she would never put that front on just to comfort you.
Even if she loves you.
It’s haunting me, making it harder to breathe..
The air was off. your girlfriend..was off. you could feel it the second you woke up from your nap. but how? why? why could you sense it? why was that feeling here?
you shook from the cold as the light illuminating from the only light in you and Ellie's shared room wavered, flickered from the open window. little drops of your tears of oxalate, the rain, soaking the chipped paint of your window sill. The door was open, and you called out to Ellie, wondering what she could be doing up at this hour.
I’m leavin’ tonight..
“Ellie..” you stood feet away from her, hearing rustling from her bag. The same bag she carried all of your shared memories to this house with. The same bag she’d leave this house with.
And you knew..god, you knew. You felt like you were treading on ice, making sure not to fuck up your words or else she’d been gone just like that.
Your body was warm..coldness and heat fighting within your skin. You were scared. But, frustrated.
“I have to finish it.”
She has to finish it. She has to avenge Joel no matter what.
No matter what.
I swear to God the voices wouldn't shut up.
#castasplla#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams#ellie x reader#ellie williams x female reader#ellie tlou2#ellie x y/n#can anyone tell I tried to incorporate 2021 tlou tumblr into this#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie the last of us 2#ellie williams x fem!reader#ellie#ellie miller#ellie x fem reader#tlou ellie#ellie x you
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PREVIEW | You Can Have My Hate | B.H. x reader
summary: Unfortunately, you got stuck with Billy fucking Hargrove as your partner for your final assignment in history class. Also unfortunately, Billy discovers you have a killer body underneath all those baggy clothes…
a/n: Billy is a disgusting little man and i love him dearly. as the title says, this is a preview of something i've been working on! the fic is already at 6.5k words and still isn't done, so i decided to put out a little snippet to see if there was any interest, so please let me know if you'd like me to finish the fic!
notes & tropes: fem reader, curvy + large chest reader, foul and suggestive language, canon typical Billy bullshit, awful behavior from both Billy and reader, minor allusions to sex but nothing happens (yet)
music inspo: Closer by Nine Inch Nails
preview wc: 1.9k
You let me violate you | You let me desecrate you
You let me penetrate you | You let me complicate you
“Damn, little miss straight-laced,” Billy’s hooded eyes slowly crawled down your body, the corner of his mouthing pulled back in a lecherous smirk, “is that what you’ve been hiding under all those baggy clothes?”
God, you hated Billy Hargrove. Absolutely despised him with every fiber of your being. You knew you should’ve begged your history teacher for a different partner, should’ve gotten on your knees and pleaded for literally anyone other than Billy fucking Hargrove to work on this assignment with you. An idiotic football player or a bitchy cheerleader would’ve been better than this. But no, you didn’t beg and you didn’t plead, so now you were stuck, and god if this wasn’t about to be the worst couple weeks of your life.
Ever since Billy showed up in Hawkins at the beginning of last semester, you detested him. Everything about him screamed disrespectful, hateful asshole, and so having two classes with him meant you had witnessed your fair share of this behavior. Why so many girls wanted to fuck him and why so many boys aspired to be him was a mystery to you, because you could see from the start that he was a no good piece of shit.
But, in a way, you were lucky because you were literally a nobody. And nobodies went unnoticed, which meant not having to deal with bullshit from 90% of your peers. Hell, when your history teacher was pairing everyone off and told Billy who his partner would be, his response was an amused “who?” as if he didn’t believe this person - you - even existed. He had gone the entirety of the school year not having a single clue that you existed, and damn you wish it had just gone on a little longer. You literally had one more month left of senior year, one more month until you never even had to think about Hawkins High again, and the last thing you wanted was to spend half of that month in misery while trying to put up with Billy fucking Hargrove.
This assignment shouldn’t have even been worth shit to you, considering that your grade was nearly perfect and it was your last big project before graduation, but that’s where your history teacher hooked all of you - if this assignment wasn’t completed, then you guys wouldn’t be able to receive your diplomas. Or so he said to deter kids like you from flaking on it - you didn’t know if your boring old history teacher had that kind of authority, but you weren’t about to risk finding out.
And for kids like Billy? Kids who didn’t give a shit, who were already struggling to pass? The grade on this assignment was make or break. Not that it affected you any, of course - Billy could fail his senior year for all you cared. But shockingly enough, he was the one to make a point of its importance to you, the one to emphasize that he had to pass this class and graduate. It was curious to you, since you’d never once seen Billy care about school, but perhaps he was also beginning to feel the fire under his ass to leave Hawkins.
So, for the past week now, you’d been meeting with Billy at the school library, trying your best not to rip out your hair while you did the majority of the work. Hell, you could’ve told Billy just to fuck off and let you work on your own - you’d still let him put his name on the assignment and everything. But for whatever reason, you didn’t and so now you were subjecting yourself to tolerating his bullshit.
And that’s what you were doing right now, sitting across from Billy in the library and using every fiber of your being not to lose it on him. He had been particularly difficult from the moment he sat down, his foot bouncing impatiently and his expression condescending each time you tried to talk to him. He was making it very clear that he’d rather be anywhere other than here. The warm temperature of the library combined with your frustration at Billy was causing you to feel a little toasty, so you caved and tugged your large sweater over your head, leaving you in a tight, black tank top that left little to the imagination.
And said tight, black tank top is exactly what Billy was ogling, making you sneer and immediately regret taking off your sweater.
You never liked showing off your body, never liked the attention it drew you. You wouldn’t say you were self-conscious necessarily, you didn’t hate the way you looked in the mirror or anything like that. But you were very aware of how men looked at women’s bodies, and as someone who hated most forms of attention, you weren’t going to have any of that. So you wore baggy jeans and oversized sweaters, hid your frame under clothes that were always a size or so too big. It kept eyes and hands off of you, and you preferred it that way.
But damn it, it was so hot in the library that afternoon and you weren’t thinking clearly. You couldn’t believe your own stupidity - you just had to take off your sweater in front of Billy fucking Hargrove, a boy who only ever saw women as either sex pots or prudes. His lewd gaze was making you feel even more hot under the collar, but shit did you want to put your sweater back on already despite the heat.
“Will you please focus, Hargrove?” You begged in an exacerbated tone, trying to cross your arms over your chest in a way that wasn’t obvious while looking back down to the textbook open in front of you.
“You expect me to focus now, after you whipped those out?” Billy took such obvious joy in knowing that he was making you uncomfortable. He leaned forward on the table, his eyes once again traveling a salacious path down the curves of your body, “It’s Friday night, I got a pair of double D’s sitting across from me, and you’re asking me to focus on a damn essay?”
“Shut up.” You threatened between your teeth, trying not to raise your voice and draw attention. Your eyes were dark with frustration as you stared at Billy, who simply looked back at you like he didn’t give a damn, like he was just waiting for you to cave to him.
And how the hell could he tell you wore a double D?
You sank in your seat a little while attempting to cross your arms even more aggressively in front of your chest, feeling your cheeks growing red. Billy gave you that smooth, lazy grin that you’ve seen him use before, his eyes hooded as he leaned back in his chair. The feeling of his indecent gaze on your body practically made your skin crawl.
“Fine, Hargrove,” You quickly grab up your belongings and shoot to your feet, fumbling with your bag and sweater to make sure they kept your chest covered, “if you wanna be a prick who won’t focus, we’ll do this next week.”
You started to march out of the library, to retreat to safety. You didn’t like the way Billy was looking at you - it was objectifying and disrespectful and vulgar. Billy never once gave a fuck about - or even noticed - you before, but the second you remove a stupid barrier of clothing, suddenly he’s oh so interested. He was such a pig.
But shit, why was it also… kind of hot?
No, it was not hot.
You couldn’t let yourself even entertain that thought because there sure as shit wasn’t anything hot about it. It wasn’t hot that he objectified you, it wasn’t hot that he drank your body in with impropriety, it wasn’t hot that his tongue ran slowly along his lower lip as his eyes met yours with practiced allure.
No, no, no! You could’ve kicked yourself. Nothing about that should’ve been hot, god damn it.
“Oh, come on, killjoy,” Billy grabbed your wrist, spinning you back around to face him, having followed you through the library. His grip was firm as you looked between his face and hand and back again.
The library wasn’t exactly busy on a Friday afternoon, but you looked around to find that the librarian and another student both looked in your direction. It made you even more nervous to know that eyes were on you; what if you got in trouble, what if the librarian reprimands you both for being disruptive? You looked back to Billy, your brows furrowed in annoyance as you whipped your wrist out of his hold with hostility.
“I’m serious, if all you want is to slack off and look at my tits that’s your business.” You immediately clamped your mouth shut, your eyes widening slightly - that is not what you meant to say at all. Oh god, why the fuck did you say that? Shit, you should’ve just told him that you’d regroup next week, that you weren’t going to put up with him. But no, instead you said arguably the stupidest thing you could, and it was clear on Billy’s face that he was relishing in your stupid words, enjoying them even.
He looked back down at your body, luckily hidden behind your bag and sweater, “My business, huh? Sounds to me like permission to stare.”
“No.” You answered firmly; your cheeks and neck felt so fucking warm. You tried to get back on track, tried to shake off the stupid thing you said just a moment ago, “I just want to finish this project. So, go home and jack off to your Playboys all weekend, and then maybe we can actually get some work done next week.”
Despite your jabs, Billy still grinned wickedly, dipping his head a little as he took a step closer, his voice low, “So, that’s what you’re thinking about, huh? Me jacking off? You enjoying that thought?”
Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to find some quick response to that, but you couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. A sound of disbelief left your throat as you gaped with loathing at Billy for a moment. God, you felt like a damn fish trying to breathe out of water. With a glare in your eyes, you clamped your mouth shut, which seemed to be a great amusement to Billy, whose smile widened as a laugh escaped him.
“God, you make it so easy.” He said, shaking his head, “You gotta lighten up, you know?”
You sigh loudly, eyes still staring at him harshly, “Whatever, Hargrove.”
You attempt to walk away once more, but yet again Billy snatches your wrist, “Wait, wait, wait…”
“Stop acting interested in me all of a sudden,” You try to shake your arm out of his hold again, but this time Billy’s grip is tighter, “I’m not in the mood.”
“Look,” his tone was firm as he instructed, “let’s go back over to the table, get some more work done, and I’ll give you a ride home.”
Your eyes narrowed into slits as you studied his face, “I don’t need a ride.”
“You don’t have a car.” He countered immediately.
“I don’t need a ride from you.”
“You don’t, but isn’t it generous that I’m offering?”
“More like devious.”
“I’ll be a total gentleman.”
You laughed right in his face, “You don’t even know the meaning of the word.”
#billy hargrove#billy hargove x reader#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove x female reader#stranger things
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40k Femslash Appreciation Post
There isn't nearly enough good wlw in Warhammer 40k, and don't get me wrong, I understand why. Considering the majority of the narratives consist of manly men doing manly things while wearing a buick on their torso and a refrigerator on each arm, there's going to be an obvious skew, and that's okay!
But today, I want to highlight some of the ladies of the 40k universe, as well as the other ladies that those ladies like to kiss. For the record, all of these will be on Archive of Our Own.
In my own corner, I've contributed:
Ennui: A longform about a Dark Eldar Wych and a Sororitas who find unlikely love on a world plagued by Orks, and in the process, discover a much darker plot that will threaten the fabric of the galaxy.
From Afar: Local Eldar Pathfinder pines after a pretty PDF guardswoman from the distance in the months while the Great Devourer approaches.
Saintsbride: A series rather than a single fic, that creatively reinterprets Saint Celestine and Inquisitor Greyfax's relationship in the audio drama Our Martyred Lady as being very gay.
His Fury, Our Hearts: Three Sisters Militant of the Adeptus Sororitas Heavy Armor division do battle against cult elements of the Alpha Legion while defending an irradiated hellhole, and also they kiss each other.
More excellent femslash can be found in the hands of user OnTheHuh.
The Iron Tower: An unflinching look at the darker side of the 40k universe on the smaller scale through the eyes of the 'bedmate' of the Planetary Governor of a Feudal world. Absolutely mind the tags, but you're in the mood for some angst and Regency-era style lesbian pining, this is your jam.
Sister Militant: Some of the best Adeptus Sororitas work out there, follows the trials and tribulations of a haunted Sister Militant as she struggles with her worth, her faith, and the demons in her mind. Very much mind the tags, again, but also again, Lesbian Angst and Pining. Also some really top notch action.
Finally, some more excellence from user AncillaThings!
Nemain's Bellum: A story that follows the ascension of a Sister Novitiate by her mentor, Palatine Caddel, through her first war and onward, when I said 'Sister Militant' is some of the best, this would be the rest of the best. Great sci-fi action and more girls kissing. Also trauma, but that's what we're here for, right?
Pigeons and Eagles: For fans of the truly excellent Rogue Trader game by OwlCat studios, and who maybe wants to see Sister Argenta being cute and gay with the God-Emperor's weirdest perfect princess, Cassia Orsellio, this one is for you.
#warhammer 40000#warhammer 40k#fanfic appreciation#ao3fic#femslash#wlw post#ao3 fanfic#sapphic#sapphic fiction#sapphic fanfiction#sapphics in 40k
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HOLY HELL? JEEZ GUYS I just saw all the notifs im glad you guys like the second part! <3 i wanted to drop some personally headcanons for the au
also if your seeing this my fic is here ! its about retired dads!soapghost and there newly adopted gn!reader
->Soap is hard of hearing! Being a demolitions expert was gonna catch up with him eventually. He used to try and hide it and avoid it altogether but nowadays he's a bit more open about too close family.
His siblings lighthearted tease him about it now since he's comfortable. It isn't totally hearing loss in his ear but its enough to need a hearing aid.
-> Ghost has a bit of a limp in his step now, There not that old but of course after years of fighting something was bound to give ad it did he broke his leg a few months into retirement while working on the roof that he of so stubbornly said he'd fix.
He wasn't comfortable with some stranger visiting there home and or multiple strangers coming to there home he felt like he could do it.
While he could admittedly despite it all he picked up a bit of interest in home fixing mainly the basics he learned even more as they came close to their retirement.
He wanted to be self-sufficient and wanted to be Johnnys' helpful husband.
But he had to fuck it up, Now that he's healed his leg gives him issues here and there but on some days he can get around just fine on others especially during the rain his joints act up.
-> Soap and Ghost have been happily married for 2 years now! Do you know who proposed first? Ghost!. He totally didn't want to pass out and throw up at the same time as he got one shaky knee and palms sweaty as he barely managed to make his words heard under his mask. Soap nearly barreled him down with how much of a mix of emotions he was trying to process as he said 'Yes'.
Ghost had been nervous through the weeks leading up to it, Asking Soap's Mother for her permission, Finding the perfect spot to pop the question.
There wedding was small stuck to Soap's immediate family even so it was pretty big (saving 2 chairs empty) , Of course they invited the rest of the 141 Laswell included inviting them months ahead.
They were able to stay for a while got caught up with each, drank, and just had fun. Simon had never felt so care free.
-> Simon and John of course went through a lot of therapy after retirement, Both of them having their own lucky little bottles of medicine in their shared bathroom. They had thought about adopting or having a kid through surogate.
They decided on adoption because it'd be cheaper plus they weren't sure if they were up to taking care of an infant, They went with adopting a pre-teen just around the age that they wouldn't do something like stick there finger or forks in outlets or burn themselves on the stove.
Soap still put outlet caps on them though.
-> Simon was nervous to be a parent he was just down right terrified that you would dislike him, think hes weird , or worse be afraid of him.
He's not a all a short or slender guy and that hasn't changed after retirement. His resting bitch face and his mask he'd traded his balaclava with a year back. He was sure he didn't look friendly to approach (which he appreciates sometimes) He wanted to look approachable to you.
But it seemed all that worrying was for nothing the first time you both met you asked about Riley albeit hesitantly, He guessed Soap told you about her.
He was open to talking bout her and you were open to listening.
(dsjvahhdadskaj sorry if there ooc </3)
#call of duty#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#simon#simon riley#dad john mactavish#dad john soap mactavish#dad simon riley#soap#soapghost#headcanons#drabble#:3#gn#gn reader#chil#child reader
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LANDO'S BOYFRIENDS BUFFET - 1 WEEK LEFT
We're nearly there!! Soon our Lando will be surrounded by many boyfriends in all the fics you've written!
SCHEDULE REMINDER
Your fics should be submitted to the collection for the 27th April
The fics will be revealed on the 5th May
If you need a little bit more time, it will still be possible to post your fic between the 27th April and the 4th May! If it's still not enough for you, just reach out by DM and we will see what we can do!
NOT TOOK PART YET?
If you're a fast writer, it's not to late to grab a prompt (or our open for all free prompt) and write!!
REVEAL
The collection will be revealed on the 5th May.
All the fics will be promoted here on tumblr in the following days!
Don't forget to share love for these works through comments, kudos, likes and reblog!
RULES AND SCHEDULE
#f1#lando norris#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 rpf#f1 rpf fic#formula 1#formula 1 fanfic#formula one#formula 1 rpf
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Hi lovely, sorry if im blowing up your inbox i literally cannot stop reading your fics bro.
could you maybe write a bottom Ted fic? like hes coming home after a long day of running errands and hes so worn out, laying on the couch and watching tv till you get home, somehow just end up riding him hes just a moaning breathless mess, stuttering his words.
idk ive just had this on my mind for a while and i think bottom Ted is jst so fucking hot😗🤷♂️
OKAY BYE MY FAVORITEST WRITER EVERR<333 >:3
omg pls blow up my inbox!!! you're sooo sweet tysm for your comments about my writing i appreciate you so much <3333 ur also 100% correct about bottom!ted... i will reign myself in and not give him a mommy kink (as much as i want to) but if y'all are interested in that lmk ;) (nsfw and dom-ish afab!reader under cut!)
ok so i imagine ted having to do some running around for a video. he has something big planned, so he has like a million errands to do and he's running all around town to pick up supplies. he also has to come home and plan and write, so by the evening when you're both relaxing on the couch, he's completely beat.
you're rubbing along his arms and playing with his hair, giving him little neck kisses, which ends up turning into you grinding on his lap a little bit for some friction. wordlessly, his hands find your ass as you keep kissing along his ears and neck, as you can tell he's getting really worked up.
"what do you need, teddy?" you'd ask, whispering into his ear and making his head fall back. "use your words."
"please," he'd breathe out, his mind foggy. "please ride me, i want you so bad."
"mm, good boy," you'd laugh lightly, pulling off your t-shirt and shorts while he unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down his thighs.
"you wanna get me ready?" you asked, as he laid down on the couch. he nodded, as you came up and placed your thighs on either side of his face.
he lapped lazily at your clit as you sat down on him, feeling his warm tongue and moaning at how wet he was making you. your hands carded through his soft hair as his grip tightened on your thighs, kneading them with his ringed fingers.
"so good for me, baby," you cooed, smiling down at his face between your thighs. "doing so good at getting me ready for your cock."
he moaned at the praise, only wanting to please you, before you pulled yourself off of him. you kissed his plush lips, covered in your slick, before getting off of him and positioning yourself over his lap.
you sunk down on him, watching as his head fell back onto the arm of the couch. you both gasped at the feeling, as he filled you up and you started to rock back and forth and find your rhythm.
your hand found his chest as he started to breathe heavier, eyes fluttering closed at how good you felt on him. his hands found your hips for stability, as you leaned down to kiss his neck and chest.
"does that feel good, teddy?"
he could barely speak, letting the stress of his day fade away as you picked up the pace and bounced up and down.
"mmph, fuck, yes, please don't stop." his cheeks were turning crimson, chest heaving, trying unbelievably hard not to cum immediately.
"you're being such a good boy for me, aren't you, teddy? should i let you come?" he blushed at the nickname, feeling himself get impossibly close to finishing.
"please let me cum, please," he begged, as you started to speed up and make it nearly unbearable for him. "can i please cum inside of you?"
a wicked smile on your face as you bottomed out on him, earning a few blubbering squeaks from him as pleasure overtook him. "since you asked so nicely," you teased, grinding on his cock and leaning down to suck a purple hickey into the skin of his chest.
a mix of the pleasure and pain was enough to send him crashing down, hands grabbing at anything they could, just for some reprieve. a string of 'thank you's fell out of his mouth as he painted your insides with his cum, relaxing as soon as he finished and lazily kissing the sides of your face, rubbing his hands down your back.
"feels so good," he smiled, beaming up at you as you pushed the messy hair out of his face and slid his glasses back on. "you're perfect. i love you."
#ted nivision x reader#ted nivision smut#ted nivison fanfic#ted nivison x y/n#ted nivison x you#chuckle sandwich x reader#chuckle sandwich fanfiction#chuckle sandwich fanfic#nat writes#this might be one of my faves ive written hehe i love a subby teddy!!
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From the Kurogiri’s meditating post- nice to see him and Yabureme getting along better!
#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#kurogiri#nomu aizawa#Yabureme Aizawa AU#haha what no nothing's changed#Kurogiri just let Yabureme sleep on him because..... uhh......#because if Yabureme doesn't sleep he can't do his job!!#yeah that's it!#that's the answer!#I really want to write for my fics but uh all of that. ficbinding stuff going on#freaks me out a little#my work isn't nearly seen enough to be targeted but I typically get anxious over things that COULD but DON'T effect me#so for now I may just draw stuff and update fics when I feel better about the landscape#or I may change my mind tomorrow WHO KNOWS
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I’m so obsessed with the whole concept of cellbit eating pac’s leg I need like a 10 chapter in depth character study fic about it
#rotating it in my mind#out of context this is a really weird thing to say I’m sorry#it just has really interesting character implications to me#fae.txt#mcyt#qsmp#also it kinda sucks bc I feel like there’s not nearly enough tazercraft-centric fics in the qsmp ao3 tag but I don’t watch them enough to#write my own raaarrgghhhhh *explodes*
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