#they have it worse than you can fuckin imagine
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“kids are so stupid these days, the ipad babies are ruining the world, ten year olds skip school and goes to sephora—“ do you have any idea what it’s been like to go to american public school within the last 15 years? can you blame a child for not wanting to spend 8 hours a day in a place where their safety and autonomy aren’t just not considered, but are blatantly denied?
mass shootings every day. funding being cut. school lunches— which were already the bare minimum in terms of nutrition— being removed. those alone would give anyone trauma, but even without those things the power structures inside of the average public school are designed to wring the individuality out of a child. (and that’s not even mentioning the way that neurodivergent kids are left out to dry by the school system, or how any marginalized kid can be tortured by their peers with no repercussions!) it’s designed to be miserable, and yet somehow people are surprised that kids don’t want to be there.
sandy hook happened in 2012, and nothing changed. uvalde ten years later, and still nothing. kids were forced back into overcrowded, unsanitary classrooms while covid was still killing thousands every day— most after having missed critical social development during lockdown, which there was no support for recovering from. children are being forced to see politicians debate the “ethics” of feeding them, letting them express their gender identity, allowing them to access accurate information about history as if their futures are just hypothetical. along with that is the social media boom, where marginalized people can create communities like never before, and those same kids are realizing that the systems they’ve been shoved into are broken. they’re being showed how awful the situation really is, and still completely powerless to change anything.
can you imagine having to go through all that and still pass your standardized fucking tests? my god, it’s a wonder that schools aren’t completely empty by now. we’re getting there though— i can’t count how many stories i’ve heard of kids dealing with truancy charges because of how many days of school they’ve “skipped” due to extreme anxiety or burnout. i’m one of them! i barely graduated in 2018, and the conditions were leagues better then!
people bitch about the “decline in intelligence” between generations, as if it’s the kids fault for the state of the world, as if this isn’t the inevitable conclusion for the public school system in this country. it feels deliberately ignorant— have you not watched the news recently? does it not evoke any empathy, does it not fill you with rage? how in the world could you pin the blame on kids here?
everyone says protect the children, and yet. fuckin sickening.
#mm says stuff#sorry for the rant i’m pissy about something i saw on twitter#people bitching about kids ‘skipping school’ because they were too anxious or depressed#like be fr right now#i BARELY graduated bcos of school shooting anxiety & bullying making me burn out so hard in high school#i can’t imagine how bad my sisters have it now. christ#have empathy for kids these days ™️#they have it worse than you can fuckin imagine#school shooting mention
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i do love canon amy & rory but god, does some part of me wish they really had gone with the idea of the doctor picking up a child as a companion (and then later, that child’s best friend with a huge crush on her.) with the rest of the season really not changing at all, except now it’s amelia pond with an angel in her head killing her and lost alone in the woods. it’s little rory who dies and is forgotten and becomes a toy soldier. if this is going to be a fairy tale, then let it be one. children have never been safe in fairy tales.
#it wouldn’t have to change any of the actual plot of the season. except MAYBE amy’s choice but even then i think amy’s choice would be the#one episode where they should be adults. if only for the half where they live in a village in that dream.#because that’s the kind of future that children would dream up. they live in a little cottage and nothing ever goes wrong and their best#friend visits them all the time even though they’ve grown up.#they aren’t actually adults there just children with an idea of what they should be as adults and acting accordingly#and it would still end the same way.#but idk its just. rory’s 2000 years waiting for amy inside the pandorica is already tragic. yes.#now imagine its a kid. a kid in a little roman soldier helmet who will never grow up. who will not leave his best friend.#he loves her and she’s more important than the whole universe and that sort of love is supposed to MEAN something in a fairy tale!#its supposed to melt the ice out of hearts and transform people from stone.#and what that love means here. is that he will have to wait 2000 years. a child and a box.#little rory and the amelia who followed the doctor’s letters to the pandorica. and she doesn’t recognize him again.#and amelia in the pandorica… 2000 years a child trapped in a small box waiting to be rescued.#s5 is already fucked for them but it could be worse. it could be so much worse.#and it would make the doctor choosing to take her place in the pandorica to save the universe later even better.#because who else but the doctor would put the fate of the universe on the shoulders of two children and realize much too late what a#monstrous thing he’d done. and still have to hope. have to hope. that amelia would remember him fondly enough to bring him back to reality.#the logistics of all of this would have been a pain lmao. child labor laws in acting and all that.#BUT. hypothetically. it would have slapped.#doctor who#amy pond#rory williams#<- also this entire time ive been referring to him in my head as rory pond so much that i fuckin. forgot his actual last name.#and then like if you want them to be adults in s6 or whatever you can just timeskip to them getting married and still have amelia remember#the doctor there. it would work. it would.#amelia pond au
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hate how im now at a point where im legit like kicking my legs and grinning like an idiot over fictional characters SEND HELP
#take One Guess who im talking about. YES ITS KOI BOI#hes so prettyyyyy and cute and lovely and i love looking at him i wanna hear him speak and laugh and sing just AAAAAAAAAAAA#(turns to my own brain) BITCH WE ARE MEANT TO BE AROACE WHY ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH TWO FICTIONAL CRIMINALS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?????#my brain: (that fuckin anime girl gif from evangelion (i think??))#like fuuuuuck man is it self shipping if u use a proxy? like. hes an oc but he's a stand in for me. he is me and i am him but we also arent#he is his own person and i am my own our lives are very very different but i use him to express love for Mad Dog and Koi Boy#cause they could actually love him if i were in their world i wouldnt stand a chance but my boy has one so he loves them for me#its far easier to imagine him kissing them than it is for me to imagine myself kissing them but that might be because im wired weird#idk it *feels* like it counts yknow. my dumbass out here gettin jealous when i see a Certain Ship cause like i disagree with it on#a Fundamental Level. and on TOP of that half the time the art is so CUTE and im like 'motherfucker that should be ME' or i guess my lad but#STILL am i making sense?? doesnt help that i worry im like. misreading what content i have but also fuck you i can do what i want and also#i get him more than yall kgyugkhjhk (jk jk. Unless) basically when i call them my boyfriends i fuckin mean it#look its Real Missing Nishiki Hours i love him i wanna kiss his perfect face someone shoulda shown him love i could save him and he could#make me worse <3 I Want Him#and do not get me wrong i may be focused on him but Majima is still my wifey too!!! hes mine you cant have her <3#i just have koi boy brainrot i very much desire them Both (YES THAT MIGHT BE WHY I SHIP THEM TOO LOOK I ALSO THINK THEYD WORK WELL TOGETHER#OR AT LEAST HAVE A FUN DYNAMIC TO EXPLORE I SHOULD DATE THEM AND THEY SHOULD DATE EACH OTHER WE ALL HAVE 2 HANDS)#might delete this in the mornin who knows but im feelin silly i wanna talk about them i wanna talk about my boy but idk if ppl would really#GET IT yknow i can think of maybe Two People and that INCLUDES bestie but just aaaa point is i love my koi boy so much hes so lovely <3 <3
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thinking about how mean!bf sirius would have a hugeee corruption kink, he just wants to ruin your mind yk
idk maybe its just me
i think mean or not, it is definite that sirius black has a corruption kink and it unquestionably couples with his possessive nature.
just imagine mean bf ! sirius meeting you for the first time. you’re a timid, but undoubtedly kind individual who is meek next to him—fully aware of sirius’ notoriety in his personality and habits. he becomes so awestruck, he has nothing to respond to your unassuming questions aside from the occasional nod or gentle murmur.
he displays a calm, relatively friendly aura until the pair of you begin to become acquainted with each other and ultimately, begin dating. it is only then, that the mean teasing and snickers begin, and his heart bursts with joy at the sound of your bashful whines and protests every time he playfully slaps your ass or tugs your skirt, laughing and pulling you close to him, muttering how his actions are all in good fun and that he’d never let anything actually hurt you.
‘so bloody sensitive. y’know i’d rather die than let someone lay a hand on you, dummy.’
and of course, sirius isn’t stupid. he’s been having lewd, perverted thoughts about you since the day he met you. in fact, it was only the same night that sirius cast a silencing charm around his bed to hide the sinful sounds of him grunting as he fisted his cock, thoughts about bending you over the classroom desk polluting his already depraved mind.
since you’ve started dating, he reckons it’s time to manifest these fantasies into life, especially after noticing how your meek gaze has begun to linger on his broad chest and widen at the sight of his bulging crotch. his inner self beams with joy and crude anticipation every time he feels you pawing at his thighs, looking up at him in despair as if you’re unsure of what you really want or why the throbbing ache in between your thighs is only getting worse.
i think mean bf ! sirius would definitely become dizzy at the sight of you on your knees, hands gripping his muscular thighs, begging him to let you suck his cock or to fill your cunt up. usually he was the one doing the begging, but here you were, pliant, obedient, and desperate for his every touch. he genuinely has to sit down and stare at you while also controlling the immoral urge of forcing his cock down your throat, watching how your eyes widen and become teary as your throat contracts and chokes around his pulsating cock.
he genuinely cannot control himself once he sees you fully submit to him, begging him to give you the exact things you were too shy about even insinuating merely a month ago. it makes him feel so accomplished knowing that he was the one that made your brain all cloudy and fuzzy—that he was the one who got your cunt hooked on the feeling of his relentless, unforgiving cock.
‘sirius—my fingers—they’re not good enough—need your cock in me—jus’ want you to ruin ‘n abuse me—please da—’ as soon as you become close to uttering the last word, he’s already lifted up your skirt and forced his cock inside your aching pussy anyways, groaning into your mouth and fucking you ten times harder than he would have any other day.
‘slut—you’ve become a little slut—oh, fuck—‘n who’s are you, huh?’
it becomes the first time that sirius loses all sense of reason and caution as it has become evident to him that he’s irreversibly corrupted you into becoming just as disgusting and perverted as him.
‘nah, not sirius’, honey, you're daddy’s, yeah?’
‘gross fuckin’ bitch loves that, huh, puppy? you like it when daddy forces himself inside you like that, hm?’
‘hogwarts newest slut, yeah? but only mine, isn’t that right? only i get to ruin—fuck—this whorish cunt—mmm,’
sirius is so mean, he doesn’t even tell you when he’s about to cum :( he makes you cum and afterward, you’re a fucked out mess because he just doesn’t stop. your eyebrows begin to furrow and you can only manage to mumble a quiet ‘sirius?’ before he groans into your neck, breath all hot and heavy, and pumps you full of his hot, sticky cum. all you can do is whine and writhe beneath him as he pushes your knees to your chest and uses your cunt to drain his massive cock.
all the while, he’s reveling in the realization that he has just cummed inside you and that if spells and birth control were forgotten, it would be no surprise if you fell pregnant with the copious amounts of cum pumped inside your spent hole.
‘my dirty girl likes when daddy breeds her, doesn’t she? oh, don’t shake your head, pup, i know you like it—can feel you clench—god—around me right now.’
sirius gets so turned on when you confess that you can’t make yourself cum without him ever since the two of you started having sex. the image of you crying out in frustration at the feeling of your own neediness and the dull throbbing in between your sore thighs—incapable of doing anything without his guidance—makes his cock harden far quicker than it should have.
‘poor thing. my dumb girl can’t do anything without me, can she? your small fingers just aren’t as daddy, hm?’ paired with a faux, mocking frown because sirius black is an asshole that is very visibly ecstatic that you’ll always have to come to him to find a release.
and nothing fuels his ego more than having you beg him to stuff you full of his cum before class begins. he loses his mind seeing the effects of ruining your perfect, angelic interior. his once smart, goody-two-shoes, good-girl has become a conniving slut, her own cunt betraying any logic or rational thinking within her mind :( seeing his shy, perfect-attendance girlfriend begging him to skip class with her to fuck in a dingy broom closet is all it takes for him to bust right then and there.
#sirius black smut#sirius black x reader#sirius black fluff#sirius black imagine#sirius black blurb#sirius black headcanon#sirius black angst#sirius smut#sirius x reader#sirius fluff#sirius imagine#sirius black x you#sirius black x y/n#poly!wolfstar#poly!marauders#poly!wolfstar smut#harry potter smut#harry potter x reader#harry potter imagine#harry potter x y/n#harry potter x you#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fic#harry potter fluff#harry potter blurb#harry potter fanfic#sirius black fanfiction
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Anakin with a corruption kink? Y/N’s really sweet and introverted and Anakin can’t stop but think in every single sexual thing he wants to do to her
obvious cw for corruption kink/mentions of virgin!reader, don’t like don’t read.
this post is 18+, minors dni.
he'd take so much sick, twisted pleasure in explaining different sexual acts to you. he likes watching you squirm, he likes watching your eyes go wide and your lips get all puffy and raw as you bite them to death, he likes watching you squeeze your thighs together like you can stop that insatiable ache between them. like he doesn't know what you're doing, like you're being subtle about it. you're not.
the grosser the sex act, the better. he starts you off by just asking whether you're familiar with different positions, but it gets progressively worse. he'll ask first about something simple like missionary or doggy, and if you know either one, he calls you dirty. like his thoughts aren't a thousand times worse, like he's not imagining you bound and gagged and covered in cum. but it works, he sees you inwardly cringe, he sees you get all flustered and shameful, and he loves it.
"you'd look good in a piledriver, baby. your neck all bent and achy, your hips up for me to fuck into. i'd get deeper, y'know, if your hips were up." he pats a rough hand on your hip, "i could fuck your needy hole so much better if I just-" / "anakin-!" / "what, you're getting all weird now? come on, it's just sex. everyone does it. except for you, huh? you've got a tight little virgin pussy, don't you, angel? you gonna let me in?"
and that's just the beginning. wait until he starts branching out a little.
"you know what a rimjob is, baby?" he'll ask, an infuriating little smirk on his face as he waits for your stammered response. when you shake your head he scoffs, "didn't think so. you gonna let me do it to you, angel?" he knows what he's doing, the power he's holding over you by being so elusive about the actual act. but all you have to do to find out is ask, why won't you just ask him? when you finally manage to gather the courage to mumble, "what.. is it?" his face drops into this shit-eating, devilish smirk, and he grabs your hips, jostling the globes of your ass. 'well, i'd make you lay on your stomach, and i'd press my face into your pretty ass, and i'd lick it out, baby. you gonna let me get my tongue in there? 'gonna let me shove my fuckin' tongue inside your ass like it's your pussy?"
you make this horribly flustered noise that's some awful cross between a squawk and a scream, and try to wrestle your hips out of his hold to go bury your burning face somewhere that his eyes aren't privy to. but he's relentless, fighting past your bashfulness and pinning you down to the bed while leaning in to kiss your red-hot face.
"what," he croons with faux-sympathy, "you're all antsy now? that got you hot-and-bothered, didn't it, thinking about my tongue in there. you're dirty, aren't you?"
when you don't answer he kisses you, and he feels the way your cunt drags against his thigh without you meaning for it to. he gets off so much on being the one to get you this way for the first time, and he's more than happy to mumble dirty shit in your mouth while he's licking it out.
"you're a nasty girl, y'know that? m'gonna put my tongue in you baby, like this-" he demonstrates with the slack ring of your lips, squeezing your cheeks until they form a hole and fucking his tongue inside to lap at your own while you helplessly grind against him, "fuck, i can feel you shivering. you like it when i talk nasty to you?"
#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker scenario#anakin skywalker oneshot#anakin skywalker one-shot#anakin skywalker one shot#anakin skywalker headcanon#anakin skywalker headcanons#anakin skywalker hcs#anakin skywalker hc#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin skywalker fanfic#anakin skywalker fic#anakin skywalker blurb#anakin skywalker drabble#anakin skywalker dialogue#anakin skywalker fluff#anakin skywalker smut
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― blood on my shirt, rose in my hand
SUMMARY: Simon Riley knows you have bad experiences with dating, but he also knows you don't really need no one but him. He's gonna provide you anything.
So you can imagine how he could change, when for the first time, you think you've found the one man who's right for you. To your surprise, weird events happen during the time you date Nick. Thankfully, Simon's there to help you. (11,4k)
READ ON AO3
A/N: this is SUCH a long piece, so some of it is here, but the full version is on AO3. i hope you're gonna forgive me for this one </3
"It's not like I'm ugly, right? I thought about it. If I'm ugly, so that's why it doesn't work out." you sip your favorite wine, looking right at your best friend, who has been listening for the past hour your ramblings about dating.
"You're fuckin' stupid, but not ugly, pet."
He's the best friend in the world – you can say this, meaning it with your whole heart. In fact, he's the best friend everyone probably wished to have, at least in your mind. Not only here for you, but loyal, you can tell him basically anything. He wouldn't say a thing, even if someone was nagging, and he was mostly a good adviser; all the qualities you looked for in a best friend, right?
And he was brutally honest, like right now, but you don't mind it. Simon Riley had this thing, and even if sometimes you were almost offended at his bluntness (like this one time, when he told you you're a crying mess and you act… worse than a toddler), you mostly appreciated it. Your other friends couldn't compare to his honesty, this man was not the one to lick your ass.
Or, so you thought.
"Excuse me?" you raise your eyebrow, laughing, while shaking your head. "You should, I don't know, tell me I'm amazing and they don't deserve me. Or so." you joke; it causes him to roll his eyes.
"That's what I told you. Different words, but the same thingy."
"Right."
It sometimes sucks for you that Simon isn't a girl. He has this unbelieveably annoying guy thing, where he just can't be delusional with you, and he can't just mourn over some hot guy. His way of thinking is… on the other level, he totally skips the mourn part, the part that is pathetic; he's just saying things like "move on" and "there's a lot of them anyway". Again, you love it, but you really wish you could cry about guy being so pretty that it hurts, without him rolling his eyes.
Yet, when you're more in mad mood than mourning one, his attiude is just perfect. He's the one to encourage you to scream, he even brought you a few times to rage room when you needed to smash a few things, not to mention the attiude he was setting you in. Powerful, not giving a shit about a "piece of a man that doesn't deserve you".
Simon sighs. "You're worryin' too much. Really that desperate?"
You huff, as you sink more into the plushy couch in your apartment. "I'm not desperate. It's just…" you take a few seconds to think "being love starved."
"Sex starved, you mean."
"Love starved." you send him a look.
"Mhm. You fancy plushies, hugs, and all shite like this?"
"You're so fucking British, it hurts" you laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I want something like this. Someone to hold me, someone that cares about me and I know it. Sex comes in package, of course, but it's just… ugh, I want a man" you groaned.
You feel as pathetic as ever, when Simon doesn't respond – because how exactly should he? He wasn't vocal about things like this, he usually just nod his head, and there it was, another topic. A miracle it was that he was already listening to your date rambling, not cutting it off because he was uncomfortable or something.
Dreams about your love life… more girly conversation.
Mostly – you know guys who loved talking about it, obviously, and you adore it pretty much, especially when you can know their perspective on some things, but… Riley wasn't really one of them. He had "simple hookups" as he said one day, when you asked him about doing double-dates. It wasn't even an option, he just liked to ocassionally fuck and that's all.
So you stopped trying a few months ago for a double-date. Instead, you focused more on finding a man that would meet your expectations at least in the middle, and that was exhausting, to be honest. Tinder dates were just a disaster after disaster – if it wasn't some catfish, a guy that wanted to marry you and have kids after two weeks of writing, it was most definitely a guy with a desire to bang you quickly.
Romance was dead these days, you noticed. That wouldn't keep you away from trying to find someone, though. Patience was a key in things like these.
"Maybe you will set me up with one your friends? It wouldn't suck. You know them." you think out loud.
"Definitely too much wine f'you." Simon takes your glass, and pours all of the liquid to his mouth, swallowing it like it was some kind of juice, not alcohol. "You don't want a guy from military in your life. Trust me."
There's some sternness to his tone, at which you raise your eyebrow. It was just a funny comment from your side, nothing else – you know by the heart that this man doesn't like the idea of connecting his two worlds. "I know, Simon. Just joking, right?"
You place a hand on his. It's a comedic, yet, heartwarming view, when you see the size difference.
"And, you're pretty cool for a military guy."
He huffs. It seems like pretty cool offends him, but he doesn't say it out loud, so it can be only your imagination working. "You met me before I enlisted. 's different."
"How different?"
"You knew me before military."
He doesn't give you another answer that night, nor the continuation of this one – he brushes you off, like you are some kind of bug that is disturbing him, and brings up another topic, about his deployment. He asks if you can watch his apartment when he's gone, take care of it; it's stupid, Simon knows that you will always agree, but it's the need of asking you anyway.
And, he likes coming home, where he can smell your perfume, where he can see that you made some changes. You tend to do that a lot, mostly buying stuff to his apartment. "It looks worse than room in the hospital" you always say, when he cocks his eyebrow with amusement. He doesn't say that, but he finds it really adorable that you care so much, to make his space… cozier, even if he's not really attached to it. Mostly, it's for your comfort when you come to visit him, and that happens a lot; not like he minds it. Anyone else would be banned from his apartment, but you? Oh God, you wouldn't be, not in the milion years.
You could probably be the worst ever to him; call him names, punch, anything, and he would still be your Simon. It's what he was used to, to being by your side, no matter what time, no matter if you were in the good mood or not; your presence was everything to him.
Not like he'd ever confess that, but it is what you know, silently.
Yet, you are so good to him. Always sending him letters or texting him when he is on deployment. A couple of times, you sent him little things too, if he forgot something, photos included too, but new ones; mostly you captured views, but you were here once or twice. His happiness may not be that visible to outsiders, but his heart is full every time.
"My girl", he'd tell boys when they saw a polaroid of you, swiftly tucking it into his vest because no one was allowed to see it more than three seconds.
Often, Gaz joked if you are actually his girl even if you're not dating, but it sounded so bizzare to Ghost. How would you not be his? Thirteen years of friendship counted as something beyond being only his best friend, no? At least in his mind it was like this. He was used to you dating briefly other guys, but it lasted maybe a few months top. Nothing serious, probably his hookups were more meaningful than your relationships.
So you can easily imagine his confusion, when your mutual friends tell him big news about your new object of interest; someone that he doesn't even know yet, but he's not really his fan on the beggining.
It was just a month of being away.
His eyes are on you now; you are embarrassed, looking anywhere but at him. You don't even speak, you just wave your hand in dismissive manner, trying to change the topic because you don't really want to talk about it. Not in the presence of your best friend, at least.
It works for everyone but Simon, and you know it by the way he looks at you, processing what he just heard. Changing a topic, sudden talkativeness from your side is like buying time in that, time precious to think what to say to your best friend later on.
Because you know for the fact that he'll ask. He always does, and now he has a reason.
You have your reasons why you haven't told him. "It's nothing serious. That's why I didn't tell you." your voice is a little more silent than usual, but he can hear it anyway. You two are taking a walk to your apartment with no one around; and it's awkward one.
Simon seems like he doesn't want to say anything about your poor choice of men. It worries you; he always wanted somehow to make fun of you or make comment. Now, it's just a nod, like he gets it, but you know it's not it. He doesn't get it.
But you don't know what it is.
"C'mon!" you nudge him, and when it doesn't seem to affect him, you stand right in front of him. A little wobbly because of alcohol, your vision isn't so great too, but it makes him stop in his tracks. "Say something."
"Somethin'" he grumbles, and you can't help but roll your eyes. "What? Told me-"
"-I know what I told you!" you cup his face in your hands. Your head is a bit hazy, but the intensions are clear; making him talk and soft. It always works, so you have a lot of hope. "He's a good guy, but I want to meet him a bit closer to be… certain about him, you know? You've heard me whining about boys a bit too much."
"You can tell me everything." he muses, and you can't help but smile at that. Of course – of course you can tell him everything. You never doubted it for a second, and you think of yourself as stupid, doubting that he wouldn't want to hear about it. "Ill be the judge of that, though. Good guy thing."
"I can't be trusted?" you tease, and when he lets out a low chuckle, you grin even more. It's like a reward after him being his grumpy self.
"No." he shakes his head. "You don't know what is good for you. But that's why I'm here."
Under the influence of alcohol, you didn't pay too much of attention to his words; probably you wouldn't pay attention to it even if he'd say this when you are sober. Simon as your protector – it's so natural, you don't even need to think about it as something weird. It's just the way things are for thirteen years, everyone knows this.
Your friends, who were a bit reluctant on the beggining, but two parties later, when he joined the competition of drinking on time and wasn't drunk at all, he won over their hearts.
It was tougher with your parents, when you were in highschool. A little distanced at first, they constantly asked where were his parents (which, you told them, was rude asking, especially to his face), telling you how much of a bad news he could be for you. Suggestion of him ruining your future was the worst, you never thought of him this way; that discussion caused you to give them the silent treatment for a few days.
Apparently after that, suggesting that Simon is around you too much, clinging to your side and giving you "weird glances", they stopped the narrative, admitting that the boy might be damaged, but not broken. You still felt like they're judging their every move, but seeing that he had pretty good life plan, seeing that he thought about military and went here actually? Hell, they completely stopped being suspicious in any means.
Riley just had this thing of charming people, even if they didn't like him in the beggining. He had everything under his finger, trying to keep things under control – it was like that… pretty much since the beggining of his life. You met him when he was an adult, but he always liked to keep things under control; people, things that he cared about. What belonged to him was sacred, untouchable for anyone else.
The possessiveness started in his early childhood with toys, when he absolutely despised everyone who just wanted to touch his things, to lay their dirty, filthy fingers here. In early classes, it was considered just rude.
When he was older though, he started fighting for various things. Knowing he has the advantage, he used his legs, fists, when he had to, and no one was looking, besides the actual victim. He wasn't stupid; he knew how troublesome the public can be, he also knew the power of manipulation a bit too well to get caught so easily. Wasn't the plan, getting caught; it once happened, but because he wanted to; he even broke his own nose, making it like the other guy did it, just to get what he needed. The reputation of kid who was broken in the childhood, so he's just not opening on others was… suitable, for him. No one could suspect anything, especially when the kid just happened to be "attacked" by one of the popular ones, right?
The idea of power was something that Simon truly desired from the beggining; maybe it has something to do with the lack of his parents in his life, being transferred from one foster family to another. Maybe it's just him being a little fucked up – who knows.
What mattered, was the fact he had you. You, so sweet, so considerate to be by his side, to be protected by him, to be the person who "opened" because of her. Little did you know, he opened just because he wanted to be closer to you, not those fuckers you hang out with.
If you knew his past, you would have another reasons in mind, why he showed up to meet your potential new boyfriend. Jealousy, posessiveness, power complex, him being a control freak who can't give you to anyone he personally doesn't trust – if ever, considering you were his precious best friend. He isn't willing to share.
You aren't really aware of him being this crazy. You think of his flaws, and you see someone that has been damaged, someone that you can and will help, if he just asks for it – or if you'll see he needs it. So, naturally, you help, and grin the widest you can, when you see him in the door. He shows completely unexpected. It doesn't take you long to wrap your hands around his neck, tight, as you hug him.
Happy as always because you can see your friend, happy as ever because moments like these means a lot to you. When he's deployed, you can't even see him, so you're taking all in when he's right in front of you.
"Hope 'm not interruptin'." he murmurs into your hair, as his head is practically buried in them; he has to bend down a little to be at your level, but it's something he enjoys. The power.
"Never." you say immediately, not even hesitating in your statement. "Actually, you found a pretty good moment."
"That I did, eh?" his eyebrow arches, as he straightens up.
"As always. Nick's here, you have to meet him."
|READ THE REST ON AO3|
#ghost x reader#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x you#simon riley x you#ghost#ghost cod#simon riley x f!reader#cod x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley smut#simon riley fluff#best friends to lovers#best friend simon riley
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Heyyy👋 can you write reader catching modern au! Sukuna masturbating🫣 and she helps him out
Come Home
Summary: With his brothers at school and a day off work, Sukuna is alone in bed when his thoughts trail off to you. There's only one reasonable thing to do.
Pairning: Modern AU! Sukuna x FAB! Reader
Word Count:1,657
Warning: Masturbatons, oral sex, horny sexy sex.
A/N: Yes! Y’all know how I love self-pleasure!! Woot Woot!
“Lunch?”
“Check!”
“Phone?”
“Check!”
“Gym clothes?”
“Double check!”
“Awesome, cool,” Sukuna shoved his younger brother towards the door. “Go on, get the fuck out.”
Choso and Yuuji glanced at each other before looking at their older brother. He was in a poor piss mood. He had been all week. The two brothers shared a glance before Sukuna narrowed his eyes at them. It was probably because you were on a week-long girls’ trip. And while he would never admit it, his brothers knew how much you meant to him.
“What?” He asked, running a hand over his face.
“Nothing! Have a great day!”
As soon as they were no longer visible, Sukuna slammed the door shut. He'd been so annoyed every little thing ticked him off. Work, his brothers, everything! He'd been blowing his top, more on edge than usual.
If you had been here, you would have been able to ease his stress. You could talk him down from any edge. From the way your hands massaging his shoulders, working the tension out. By the way, you took over whenever the boys would give him a hard time. He hated to admit it, but you made him a better person. And what was even worse was that he liked it. Damn, fuck, he like the person he was becoming because of you.
You, all of you. Sukuna groaned, shutting his eyes tight as you invaded his mind. You soft Y/H/C, how your eyes lit up, how your smile could melt him. Everything about you was perfect in his eyes. Your voice, the way you smelled, the sound of your voice.
“Sukuna!” The joy in your voice when you came over.
The firm but gentle “Sukuna.” You whisper in his ear when he starts to lose his temper with his brothers.
“S-Sukuna~!” The way you would moan his name when he was balls deep inside your perfect pussy.
With a frustrated sigh, he peered down at the tent in his sweats. How was it you could be hundreds of miles away and still make his cock hard? Damnit, he had it bad for you, and he had a raging boner.
“Fuck it. I have nothing better to do.”
Padded across the floor, Sukuna plopped down in bed, his hand slowly reaching into his sweats. Sukuna grabbed his cock, causing a sharp hiss to pass through his clenched teeth. The velvety skin was hot, throbbing under both his touch and the thoughts of you. It always amazed him just how fucking hard he got whenever you were involved. Either participating in the fun or when you were just at the forefront of his mind.
Which was constant anymore, yet you were nowhere to be found to help with the predicament he currently found himself in. You were probably sippin’ on mimosas or some girl shit. When Sukuna would much rather have you sucking on his cock.
”Fuck.” Spitting into his hand, Sukuna wrapped his fingers around his cock. Imagining it as your hand, which barely fits around his girth length. “Suck it.” He rolled his head back, resting it against the pillows as he imagined images of you. Crawling up the bed on your hands and knees. “That’s right, mhmm fuck you look so fucking sexy.” You were naked, tits bare, lacey underwear hugging your hips as you kissed up his thighs.
He squeezed his shaft before slowly dragging his hand up and down. His spit lubricated the soft skin of his cock, but it wasn’t nearly enough, not enough to even begin to mimic your mouth. You were always so messy, gagging up and down, taking him as deep as you could until pretty tears stained your cheeks. Even if he told you not to push yourself, that you neednt worry about him, you gave it one hundred and fuckin’ fifty percent. So, one could only imagine his disappointment that his hand felt nothing like your tight, wet mouth.
The way your pretty lips kiss swollen wrapped around the tip, your tongue teasing his slit in slow, calculated licks. He knew you liked it. You loved sucking his cock. You hummed around him as you tasted his pre-cum, making your tongue move harder against his tip. Eventually, though, you grew tired of the pre-cum and wanted the real thing. So you would gag, bob your head, hollow your cheeks, doing everything and anything in your power to get him to cum in your mouth.
You were such a whore for his cock.
”That’s it, suck it, suck it, my fucking beautiful girl.” In his fantasy, you hummed, sucking faster as his hand tried and failed to imitate you. “Come on, baby, you can take it.” His brain was screaming at his hand to do what he was seeing in his head, but it was to no avail. Despite his hand being a cheap knockoff, it would get the job done. Just not in the way he wanted.
“Fuck, Y/N, come home soon.”
As Sukuna continued thrusting his cock into his fist, you opened the door to his apartment. You were giddy, kicking your shoes off, searching for your handsome boyfriend. You had told him you were coming back on Thursday, which was a lie. A lie you were proud of! You knew he had the rest of the week off, so you took it upon yourself to take the week off yourself. This way, you could make up for your time away from him.
When you couldn't find Sukuna anywhere in the kitchen or living room, you grinned mischievously. Knowing him, he fell asleep after sending his little brothers off to school. That meant you could wake him up in the naughtiest way before getting your guts rearranged. Tip-toeing to his room, you tilted your head to the side as his groans and curses could be heard from his room.
When you peeked inside to see what he was doing, your breath caught in your throat. Sukuna was flushed. A light sweat had begun to bead over his toned muscles while he fucked his hand. His face was contorted with frustration as his hand moved up and down faster. Your poor baby was so close, but he couldn't get past the edge. His thick, girthy, perfect cock throbbed red with anger while it cried beads of pre-cum.
“Y/N, fuck Y/N, don't stop, so close.” Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you fought back a pleased giggle. Poor Sukuna, he must be missing you so badly. Jerking his cock off like a horny teenager. Desperate for release, for a mediocre orgasm.
Well, it was his lucky day. Because you, you were going to suck his would out. Using his shut eyes and heavy breathing to your advantage, you stepped inside his room. You made sure to hold your breath as you approached the edge of the bed. From up close, you could see the pained expression on his face. Poor thing, his cock must be so hard it hurts. What kind of girlfriend would you be if you just allowed him to suffer like this?
Bending over, you kitten licked the slit of his leaking cock. Sukuna’s cock throbbed hard before his body seized up as he pulled his hand away. “What the fu — oooh fuck.” You wasted no time, getting on the bed, body hunched over as you took the tip of his monstrous cock in your mouth. “Fuck, holy, Y/N?!” His disbelief melted into a gravely moan.
Seeing as your mouth was full, you hummed, looking up into his eyes. “Mhmm~” you attempted to wrap your hand around him, slowly stroking him in time with your sucking.
“Oh, fuck feels so good!” Sukuna wrapped his hand in your hair, tugging at the Y/H/C locks.”That’s it, just like fuckin’ that!” He shoved your head down, making you take his cock down your throat. The sudden action had you gagging as tears blurred your vision. “So pretty, fuck you're so fucking pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock.”
His praises had you sucking him down deeper. More tears streamed down your cheeks as you ran your tongue down the vein on the underside of his cock. Sukuna gasped, thrusting his hips up and into your mouth. Looking at him with blurry eyes, you gagged harder as he fucked your throat like he was fucking your tight pussy.
“Fuck, fuck, gonna cum, I’m gonna fuckin’ cum.” having him hold your head in place as he ducked your face was so arousing in the most intimate ways. You loved making him feel good. You got off on this. “Take it,” he gritted, “take it, suck it, fuckin’ fuck! Y/N!!” he threw his head back, back arching off the bed as ropes of cum filled your mouth. It was thick, hot, and slightly bitter.
You were determined not to waste a drop, so you swallowed and sucked, repeating the process until Sukuna pulled you off his softening dick. His chest heaving, cheeks flushed, the man looked like he ran a marathon. Seeing him in a state like this had you smirking as he gently caressed your head.
“Oh my fuck, I was not expecting this.”
“Mmm, surprise, I came home to spend time with you.”
Sukuna slowly pushed himself up on his elbows. “Good,” he grabbed you by the waist, easily lifting you, positioning you to straddle his neck. “No, why don't you take a seat here.” His middle and forefinger tapped at his lips. “And tell me all about your trip.” you ripped your underwear off, tossing them across the room, before holding your dress up in your hands.
“Well, you’ll never guess what Minami did.”
“Fuckin’ hate that bitch, tell me everything.” He muttered into your pussy as you gasped out in pleasure. Yeah, he felt a million times better now that you were back, right where you belonged.
#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk reader insert#jjk reader smut#reader x sukuna#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader smut#sukuna ryomen smut#jjk sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna#jujutsu ryomen#jjk ryomen#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#ryomen x reader#jjk y/n#jjk au#jjk#jjk gojo smut#y/n x sukuna#jjk men#jjk drabbles#jjk fluff#reader insert#jujitsu kaisen#jujutau kaisen sukuna
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Adam with a reader who’s very witty and quick with comebacks?
just some silly pre-conference banter! | Adam x Reader
headcanon/drabble — how would Adam be like with a reader who is sharp-witted?
content & warnings — NSFW, fem reader, fem pronouns, fingering & cunnilingus, sexual act happening in a public place (workplace).
a/n — this takes place in some sort of office-setting, i dont know what goes on up there in heaven but i like to think its similar to what we've seen so far in hell, so i'm sure conferences aren't unheard of. i wasn't sure what format this idea should take, so it begins like a headcanon list but finishes up with a drabble. it's also rushed and i struggled with it a lot but. we ball!!!!!!
Adam considers himself to be a pretty funny guy, always dishing out 'sick burns' on others, but his pride gets hurt really easily. When it comes to a reader who can keep up with him in comebacks; he's definitely impressed by it, thinks it's hot as fuck, but he'd never openly admit it because it also a ignites a strong sense of competition in him.
The tension between the two of you is uncomfortably palpable, how you twist him through every conversation and leave him to stammer like a fool just when he thinks he's bested you. Watching him seethe is endlessly entertaining to you, it brings you satisfaction, finding your own sense of pride in seeing that bad boy persona crack little by little.
The two of you will be going back-and-forth every time Sera calls for a conference, taking up half of the allotted time with your back-and-forths, and everyone graced with the luck to have been summoned there just wishes the two of you would fuck already so they didn't have to keep sitting through this.
But he secretly likes it, your flippancy towards his status and identity as First Man, how you're always so quick to shut down his sleazy remarks with an air of arrogance, going toe-to-toe with his own. Cute.
Until one day, you finally give into him– He somehow manages to get you to fuck him, and for days after, his bragging around the office is incessant: "[Name] cries when she cums!", "Her orgasm face is just the cutest fuckin' thing, I mean could you imagine? Wait, actually don't, don't picture it–"
You start to get fed up, not only annoyed at his oversharing and his ceaseless bragging about things that simply weren't true, but because you hadn't even gotten to cum from the experience. Instead of confronting him, you had a plan in place that would get you what you wanted, so you instead opted to ignore the hushed whisperings around you all day.
...Until a little later, when you're in an empty conference room together, and he's sitting across the table from you. Licking the lid of his yogurt container with a smug look. Mimicking the disappointingly tepid treatment he'd given to you the night before.
"Should we... address what happened, [Name]?" He asks smugly, like it was a topic of business, leaning forward onto the table with his hands clasped together.
"No, I'm good."
"Noooo?" Adam's voice is as sugary as the extra pumps of syrup he'd overloaded his coffee with this morning in the breakroom. You'd seen that diabetes-inducing horror as it happened. "Why not? I feel like it's something we should talk about."
"Why?" You ask simply. "It happened, and that's it."
That gets him a little annoyed. Confused, too; why weren't you playing along?
"Didn't mean a thing to you, then?"
"Nah."
"Oh please, [Name]," he scoffs. He’s getting offended at the thought now, his wings giving a small flap in indignance. He’s supposed to be the aloof one! You should be begging for it to happen again.
"Don't fuckin' play. My dick gave you the best fuck you've ever had and now you don’t know how to feel."
“The best? At putting me to sleep, maybe. I did get a good nap out of it afterward, so.”
To Adam, the only thing better than your negative attention is your positive attention, and the only thing worse than that is your indifference. He hates feeling desperate, but you bring him to that shameful peak.
“You were on my dick like you had a fuckin' crush,” Adam continues to ramble on, trying to find a weak spot. “Fucking me probably meant a lot to you, huh?”
"I hump my pillow before bed and it means as much."
"Your pillow can't plow you like I do."
"No, but at least it actually gets me to cum."
Adam’s dick twitches in his pants. You know exactly what you're doing. Those words, delivered with that cruel flippancy he loves and hates so much, are precisely tailored-- All to drive him over the edge.
“Then maybe that was just a trial run,” He says after a long, fervent pause. "Maybe you need another taste."
You smirk a little, but only offer more disdain.
"No thanks, I've had enough to decide I'm no longer interested."
"Oh come on," He finally says. He's desperate at another chance now, he needs the validation of making you cum for his pride to be restored.
"Just give me one more shot?"
And so there you are, bottoms down, legs spread, Adam's fingers inside you, sitting on the edge of the table where a meeting is supposed to happen in about 25 minutes.
You're sopping wet. He drags a finger over your cunt before spreading it. "You're so cute, all blushing and shit. Makes me crazy hard."
"Your vocabulary is fucking terrible. Stop talking."
"You like it, though." He grins, teasingly lifting his fingers away from your aching cunt to show you your own wetness. You let out a small whine at the absence. "You sure you want me to stop?"
"Shut up, I said," You grab him by his hair and shove his mouth where you want it, aggressive and impatient. "-and start eating."
Normally Adam is not one to take demands like that. But in this position-- looking up at your stern face from between your legs--he obeys. He kisses at your cunt over and over, sweet little pecks like a first crush. The sensation makes your core tighten around nothing. Adam was not one to take his time; he was teasing you like this on purpose. You weren't having it.
And so pettily, you decide to say: "You can do better than that."
So naively, he does, he takes your dare and you're practically gushing all over the conference table by the time he gets in there and starts eating for real. Desperately suckling your clit between those smirking lips, that mouth that never fucking shuts up.
You cum with a satisfied sigh, as if you'd just had a good stretch rather than an orgasm on his face. He looks up at you expectantly, lips glistening with your aftertaste. Eyes wide and eager, waiting for the praise that is to come, only for you to lean in and whisper:
"Look who has a crush now."
a/n — pls forgive me for taking so long to answer this! i don't think it's exactly what you're looking for but i tried. it's more of an "adam with a reader who he has a sexually-charged, competitive work relationship with" type of deal. you just like to play with him and you know exactly how to make him desperate
#adam headcanons#hazbin hotel headcanons#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel x reader#adam x reader#adam hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel adam#adam smut
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𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 | ghostface!darren (pig) x reader
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | he probably wasn't even invited to this party, because who would invite him? but he came anyways... just to torment you. far more than you could've imagined, in fact.
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 2.5k
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | NONCON DARK SMUT 18+ ONLY!!, public sex, degradation, pain kink, knife kink, a bit of predator/prey, blood kink, smoking, unprotected sex/implied risk of pregnancy, darren is kind of an incel lmao
It was a pretty traditional high school party— overcrowded, loud and sweaty, bad music and worse liquor— but at least the sea of costumes, ranging from scary to silly to sexy, added at least some new layer of interest to the whole thing.
You hadn’t tried very hard with your devil costume— more accurately an attempt at a ‘sexy devil’ costume— but you put on horns and heels with a tight red dress and nobody can really complain. You weren’t really here to get into the ‘spooky spirit’ or whatever anyways, just an excuse to drink and maybe chat with some people you’d been missing.
The person you ended up chatting to right in that moment, though, was exactly the last person you wanted to talk to.
You didn’t even know there was someone behind you until you felt him press up to your back, suddenly hovering right by you. “Want a drink?” he asked, shoving a cup towards you, but you were too busy nearly jumping out of your skin to care— you almost knocked the drink over, actually some of it did splash onto another partygoer, but she was too drunk to notice.
“Fuck!” you yelped, turning to see the gangly boy behind you. “Christ, Darren, do you have to always sneak up on a girl like that?”
He just smiled and tried to offer the drink to you again.
“M’already holding one,” you pointed out with a frown, “didn’t ya notice?”
“O-oh yeah,” he mumbled, lowering the cup finally. “Costume looks good.”
“Thanks,” you shrugged, though you suddenly felt the urge to tug down the bottom of your dress.
“You’re not worried what the boys are gonna think with you dressed like that?” he asked, and you glared at him as you shoved his shoulder.
“Don’t you think before you open your fuckin’ mouth?” you spat. “What are you, anyway?”
The black robes didn’t really tell you anything— not until he reached behind his head and pulled a Ghostface mask over his face.
“Oh,” you snorted, “not the most original, is it?”
“Don’t like t’movie?” he wondered as he pulled the mask back again.
“I mean, it’s pretty good,” you relented, “but—”
“You wanna fuck ‘im, don’t you?” he insisted suddenly with a lascivious grin.
“What?” you squinted.
“Ghostface,” he clarified, “you’re one of the girls who thinks he’s fit, yeah?”
“Why are you always such a creep?” you asked him with a grimace, but then you decided to change the topic quickly. “Kinda thought you’d be a pig or something,” you admitted, “with the nickname and all.”
“Nah, that’s stupid,” he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms— which made you notice the prop knife in his hand. It actually looked pretty good, shinier than most plastic costume knives.
Just then, Jimmy O’Doyle sauntered up beside you, slipping his arm around your shoulders. “Ay, little devil,” he greeted, flicking the red horns on your head as you smiled sheepishly.
He hardly acknowledged Darren, spare for a quick nod, but Darren was staring at Jimmy for a little too long before he looked at you again.
“Thought you said you didn’t want a boyfriend,” Darren said sharply, glowering a bit.
Jimmy scoffed and you shifted uncomfortably; Darren tended to be… what’s the word… desperate? Clingy? Overall bizarre? He certainly couldn’t take much of a hint.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said first, though that didn’t really matter— you didn’t need any reason to reject Darren, outside of your natural self-preservation instinct. He actually wasn’t bad-looking, but it was hard to tell past those leering eyes and the uncomfortable smile. He wasn’t smiling now though… he looked quietly enraged, sipping pointedly on his drink as he glanced away for a moment.
“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Jimmy smirked at you, hardly waiting for your nod before disappearing back into the crowd.
Suddenly, as you felt Darren’s livid gaze from awkwardly close, you decided that you needed a little fresh air. And by that, you really meant a cigarette.
Not wanting to tell Darren that you were going outside for a smoke, you instead mumbled some excuse about going to the loo— somewhere he was just sane enough not to follow you to— and bumped through the crowd until you found a door out into the neighbourhood.
There was a slight drizzle still going outside— more of a misting, really— that made everything all foggy and grey, spare for the yellow-y glow of the streetlamps dotting the way. It wasn’t a full moon, as cool as that would be, but near to one… regardless, it wasn’t visible behind low, dark clouds, leaving the night starless and dreary. There wasn’t much to look at in the alley as you lit your cigarette and took slow drags from it, so as you stared blankly forward at brick walls with chipping whitewash, your mind wandered a bit. Nothing of great merit: upcoming assignments, the possibility of an afterparty, the lingering hope you could find a steamy hook-up for the night… you didn’t just put this outfit on for the pictures.
Before you could get too far into your imagination, you were startled by a distant sound, jumping slight as your head turned towards it— but it was just the dark alley, not much to see. You squinted, trying to make out movement in the shadows, but for quite a while you couldn’t see anything.
Only when you turned your head back forward with a shrug was there any sign of what you’d heard, just a shift in the corner of your eye. You looked at it again, and you hated to admit it, but your heart froze up for a second when that white face emerged from the darkness.
Of course, you gave your best unaffected scoff when you actually processed what you were looking at.
“Quit it, Darren,” you warned, willing your voice to sound stable as you shouted down the road towards him, “you’re not gonna scare me.”
You watched him move closer, stepping into the light so you could see him better, and tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck stood up. If he knew he was getting to you, he’d just keep doing it; you rolled your eyes and took a drag through your cigarette to try to seem nonchalant… but you had to stop your hand from shaking just a bit. Only because it was chilly out, surely…
You thought it was a joke— a stupid joke, but still just a joke— until he dragged his knife along the brick wall as he stalked toward you. The sharp, high-pitched screech of metal against stone was unmistakable… and that was how you realised it was a real knife. A very sharp, very real knife; he’s going to actually kill me, you thought, just before you let out a primal and instinctive scream.
Turning on your heel, you ran as fast as you could. Each rapid pulse of your heart pumped adrenaline through your veins, and you felt so shaky that you worried the light night breeze would knock you over.
These were far from running shoes, though— they were pretty excruciating to just stand in, actually— and it was only a few blocks of a chase before you tripped. Yelping in pain, you tried to scramble up or even crawl forward… but just as you rolled over and winced from landing on your hip, you saw him stalking forward into the flickering light of a streetlamp.
He was probably just going to take the mask off and laugh at you, right? Reveal the whole thing was a silly prank and the knife was fake and that he just wanted to prove you were scared of him. Yes, that would be the most sane thing for him to do at that moment, even after being so not-sane by chasing you with a knife. Instead, as you tried to crawl back, he just tilted his masked head curiously at you, and with his free hand reached down and palmed at his groin. He was hard— you could see the outline of it through his costume, his hips rocking forward slightly into his palm as you heard a muffled hiss from his mouth.
He knelt down and grabbed your kicking legs, roughly yanking you closer and hovering above you menacingly. “C’mon and scream for me,” he ordered with a delighted purr, pulling his mask back, laughing when what came out of you was more of a wail or sob instead. “Louder, y’little whore—”
“Get off me!” you shrieked, trying to fight him away, whining as he laid down over you instead and licked your neck. You turned your head with a grimace, shuddering as his weight pinned you against the slightly-damp pavement.
“G’na show Pig how tight the little hole gets when you’re scared— aren’t ya, fuckin’ slut?”
“Be serious, Darren— s’not funny, get away from me!”
You struggled less when he flashed the knife; as little as you could, in fact you actually nearly froze as he teased you with it, running the tip down the front of your dress with just enough pressure to pop a few sequins off, making you whimper in terror. He laughed, though— a small, dark, chuckle. “Quiet now,” he noticed. “Don’t make a fuss, sweetheart.”
You had to bite your lip to hide a shout, though, when a gloved hand up slipped under your short dress, grabbing greedily at your lacy panties. He licked his teeth, bared by his grin, as he stared at you with those haunting eyes of his. “Wet, aren’tcha, girl?” he taunted— not that he’d be able to feel it through his black gloves, but past your own groaning you could almost hear it (though you tried not to).
“You’re such a creep!” you spat, though you tried to regulate your tone as you glanced at his knife again, held against you by one of his hands on your arm; maybe part of you still thought he would stop and admit it was a joke, but the darkness in his stare made you doubt that more and more. The gravity of the situation still hadn’t really set in yet— sure, you were coursing with fear and had goosebumps all over, but it didn’t totally feel real.
“Won’t take too long,” he promised with a sigh as he hastily tugged his costume out of the way, still pinning you down with one hand (if not as effectively). When he roughly yanked his cock out, proudly brandishing it between your legs as your eyes went wide… that’s when it felt real.
“Don’t,” you gasped instantly, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Don’t, Darren, please— you can’t—”
“Shh,” he hissed quickly, “s’good— gonna feel good, alright?”
He gasped loudly as he pushed inside you, eyes shutting tight before he dropped his head down onto your chest. “Fuck, girl— what’s a whore cunt so tight for?”
Not wasting any time, he pulled his hips back and roughly thrusted forward into you again, making you choke on your cry.
“S’for me, isn’t it?” he decided with a sick sort of grin. “Want Pig to feel good? Like t’squeeze the thick cock, don’t ya?”
“I— I fuckin’ hate you,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes tight, in disgusted disbelief that this was happening— that it was him inside you, holding you down. But you couldn’t forget it, not with him moaning and purring above you, mumbling stuttered praises… and the feeling of it, it was impossible to ignore, as much as you hoped to somehow. It was a deep stretch, each thrust making your chest tighten out of more than just fear.
“Mmf, fuck,” he grunted, holding onto you tighter— another reminder he still had that fucking knife. “Pretty— it’s a pretty thing… it’s warm inside…”
Grimacing, you hated the way your body responded to his lewd comments about it; your walls clenched on him slightly, you could tell by the way you felt even more sore inside than before.
He pressed the knife up against your neck, growling in amusement at your wince of fear. “Think Pig’s gonna slice you?”
“I… I don’t know,” you stammered out your answer, eventually.
“Waste of a pretty face, no?” he smirked, moving the knife up and caressing the side of your face with it— not that it could really be called a caress, all rigid and cold like that… “Say please.”
“Huh?”
“Say please,” he repeated, “beg me not to hurt you.”
“Already are,” you sneered at him, but he pressed the knife to your neck with a little more intention— a little more pressure, a wild look in his eyes suddenly— as he insisted again.
“Wanna hear you beg,” he spat. “Do it or Piggy might hurt you worse.”
“Please, please,” you whispered shakily, shutting your eyes. “Please don’t, Darren…”
You gasped sharply as he pressed the knife down just enough to draw a thin line of blood, only to pull the blade away and lick hungrily at the wound. Feeling dizzy and sick, you winced at the sting of his tongue lapping at your pierced skin, lips wrapping around and suckling as teeth dug painfully into your pulse.
He thrusted faster, recklessly so, and bit down on his lip as he breathed heavier. You were too focused on how painfully deep he was going to really process anything when he started to slow down— that is, you felt that he was slowing down, and didn’t think for a minute about why he was slowing down.
His loud, low groan gave it away; you snapped back to reality and looked up at him in a new kind of fear. “Fuck, Darren, did you just—?!” you whimpered, squirming harder as you realised what he’d done.
“Shh, shh,” he soothed you sharply, hissing as he grabbed a tight hold of your hip. “Stay fuckin’ still, girl— fuck, I’m still coming—”
You yelped and tried harder to fight him off, but he kept you pinned down easily, even forcing you into a rough and sloppy kiss.
He sighed into it after a second, relaxing on top of you until it was a little hard to breathe under his weight. You whined and tried to break away, but the hand with the knife still in it held your jaw, the cold metal pressing threateningly against your face.
Whimpering and blinking up at him, you met his icy gaze and he smiled proudly down at you. “Little devil, eh?” he smirked as he toyed with your horned headband, which had become quite dishevelled from all the running and struggling. “Your blood matches the outfit— poor whore, red all over…”
“Darren,” you choked, fighting a sob of disbelief as you felt him pull out of you with a hiss— a steady, sticky leak giving away how much he’d come. “What the fuck did you do?”
“Don’t be fussin’, girl, like I said,” he rolled his eyes, though he was still grinning wide. “Ready to go back to the party now? Or do you just want Pig to take y’home, sweetheart?”
#darren pig x reader#disco pigs#cillian murphy x reader#darren pig smut#darren pig dark!fic#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy dark!fic
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Can you believe I've never done Farmtale Sans before? As a certified country girl? Shocking, I know. I'll rectify this issue with my latest brainrot scenario immediately
---
“whoever this is, it better be real fuckin’ important,” the voice at the other end said, gruff and tired, heavy with a mix of annoyance and sleepiness.
Immediately, shame washed over you. The very small amount of steam you’d managed to muster up completely dissipated from your body as you imagined Sans’ disappointed and disbelieving reaction to your pathetic request.
This was a mistake.
“... H-hey. Uhm... I’m fine, I didn’t mean to call. Butt dial, hahah.” Your voice nearly cracked. “Sorry for waking you up.”
“... wait.” His voice instantly changed. “hey, don’t hang up-”
You didn’t hear the rest of what he said. You hung up, and put the phone down. Now you were right back to square one, sitting at the kitchen table in a freezing empty house at 2 in the morning. It had taken you almost half an hour to muster up the courage to call him- thirty minutes of sitting by the phone, wrapped up in your coat, shaking and holding back tears. You started plotting places you were going to sleep. Maybe if you put more wood in the kitchen stove, you could just sleep at the table until morning.
... You inherited this place from your grandmother. It was a ‘rustic’ house that hadn’t seen human company for over a decade, in the middle of the deep countryside, cut off from almost everything. Spooky, draughty, on nights like tonight sitting in the kitchen was like sitting in a fridge. You had moved out of necessity- your landlord in the city had evicted you from your beloved apartment to jack up his prices, and you couldn’t find anywhere else to live except this middle-of-nowhere house left in your name.
You had lived in the city your whole life. You weren’t used to being in the country, not at all. The month you’d spent here had only reinforced that fact to you, over and over.
Something made a noise outside. An animal, maybe. You curled your coat tighter around you.
The only upside so far had been meeting the monsters that made up the tight-knit community you had been unceremoniously dropped into. Papyrus and Sans, especially, had been so wonderful and helpful. Sans had told you to call if you needed anything.
... Which was exactly why you didn’t have the heart to tell him why you were really calling. You didn’t want him to think any worse of you than he probably already did. A stuck-up city girl who doesn’t know what she’s doing.
You were scared.
...
The phone rang. The sound made you jump, it felt so loud in the silence. Despite your increasing shame, and the desire to just let it ring... you picked up.
“c’mon, don’t be like that.” He sounded much softer than when he had first answered. “what’s wrong? something happen?”
“N-no.” Hearing someone else’s voice was so comforting. You felt so alone, far away from everyone. “It’s nothing.”
You obviously weren’t very convincing. “doesn’t seem like nothing. you sound terrified.”
“I’m just cold.”
“didja kill someone? do i need to come over and help hide a body?”
You couldn’t help it, that made you giggle a little.
...
It just came. You didn’t entirely know why. Probably because it was two, and you hadn’t slept since six the previous morning. Unable to help yourself, you just... burst into tears.
“hey. s’ok, you’re gonna be ok. i’m on the way.”
“N-no, no, please,” You pressed your sleeve against your eyes The shame was absolutely overwhelming. “Please don’t come,”
“too late. already outta bed, it’s serious business. you gonna tell me what’s got you all shaken up?”
You pulled your knees up to your face. Well, no hiding it now, huh? He’d heard you sobbing over the phone. Your voice crumpled under a mixture of tears, fear, immense fatigue and shame. You felt like such a baby.
“Th-there’s a huge spider on my bed,” you finally admitted, feebly. “I-I’m... I don’t know what to do.”
“aw jeez. why didn’t you just say?”
You could suddenly barely talk through the crying. Hours of stress, all coming out in one mess. He probably thought you were pathetic.
“hey. knock knock.”
As he said that, you heard two soft knocks on your side door. You jumped up, what the hell? Was that Sans? You dropped the phone and rushed to the door to let him in, almost tripping over yourself.
You opened the door, the air was full of the sound of wind and crickets. Sans stood in the darkness outside of the house, dressed in a thick knitted sweater, blue and white striped pyjama bottoms, big heavy boots, and a coat over the top of it all. He had the phone in one hand, and his smile widened when he saw you.
Shocked, you scrubbed at your eyes and nose again, self consciously trying to wipe off the tears and snot. He lived half an hour's drive from you. “H-how... how did you get here so fast?”
“shortcut.” He winked, those lovely emerald green eyelights glimmering in the low light. “can i come in?”
You nodded, not trusting your voice, stepping to the side. Maybe he knew roads your map apps didn't. Sans eagerly came into the light, kicking off his shoes and closing the door behind him.
“this way?” he asked.
... You showed him to the bedroom, but cowered in the doorway.
“I-it’s under the sheet.”
Sans didn’t even hesitate. He approached the bed and flipped back the sheet. The spider hadn’t moved since you last saw it scurry under your bedclothes, still sitting right there, with its fat hairy body and sharp legs. It was probably the biggest spider you had ever seen in your entire life. You felt a horrible chill pass over you.
“dang. he is big. look at the size of that gangly fucker.”
Having said that, Sans just... grabbed it. He picked the spider up before it could run and held it in his enclosed fist like he was scooping up a penny he had dropped on the floor. Just like that, he moved across the room and pulled back the curtain, cracked the window open, stuck his arm out, and threw the spider out into the darkness.
He closed the window again. The air felt less heavy. He even tugged the handle to make sure the window was all properly sealed up, pulling the curtains closed again.
It took him all of fifteen seconds.
“all good.” He turned to you, grinning and showing you his open palms. No spider. “successfully evicted.”
...
You started crying again.
Sans mumbled a soft ‘aw jeez’. He didn’t hesitate to cross the room, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a warm hug, ignoring your babbled apologies.
“he really spooked ya, huh?” A gentle hand smoothed over your hair. He smelled like sweet hay, hours of sunshine, and something slightly musky. “how long were you tryna drum up the courage?”
“T-two hours,” you sobbed, muffled in his sweater.
You’d expected him to laugh at you. But he didn’t. He just held you, letting you cry out all the stress that had been building up over the course of the night. You were pretty sure this was the first time you had been hugged since before you left the city.
Eventually, you calmed yourself down, reducing to just hiccups. Sans didn’t let go until you did, allowing you to pull away, but keeping a steadying hand on your arm.
“easy, pet.” His voice was so warm and soothing. “you’re all good.”
“Fucking... I’m just such a baby.” Your sleeves were damp from all of the tear wiping you were doing. You made an unattractive sniffling sound. “You didn’t even hesitate.”
“cus i’m used to ‘em. also, i’m a skeleton, so i don’t gotta worry about being bitten. no shame in bein’ scared of the big ones.”
Your voice was hoarse. “I’m sorry you came out all this way.”
“... did you think i’d be mad at you?” he asked, softly.
“M-mhm.”
“i really don’t mind bein’ yer bug removing hero." He patted his nonexistent bicep. "tell ya what, it makes me feel very big an’ tough.”
He had you giggling again. He always did. He seemed proud of himself- his presence was balm to your Soul right now.
“I just... I get so scared at night.” Your cheeks were hot. “It’s so quiet, and dark. I feel like I’m the only person around for miles. I don’t know why I thought I could do this.”
"this?"
"Living out here."
“hey, i beg to differ. yer already doin’ so much better than most who move to these parts.”
You looked up at him. Why did that tiny bit of praise make your heart swell so much? You didn’t feel like you were doing ‘better’. You’d just called your nearest neighbour at 2 in the morning to come save you from a spider. “But I’m always asking for help.”
“exactly. you’re askin’. that’s the important part.” His eyelights were so warm. “that’s how we make it work, out here. we help each other.”
Goddamnit. You were gonna cry again. You just about managed to choke it down.
“... the animal noises also probably freak you out too, huh?”
“Y-yeah, hah.”
“if you don’t know what yer hearin’, it can be pretty scary.”
... You sniffled.
...
“... you’re shaking. d’ya want me to stay?”
How did he know? He always just seemed to know. You nodded, meekly. You didn’t want to be alone right now, and you knew the house would feel even colder and emptier once you’d known how it felt while you had company.
“Will Papyrus be worried?”
“he knew i was headin’ out to help ya. he’ll be fine.”
... You didn’t need to say out loud where you wanted Sans to sleep. Both of you knew.
The two of you finally took off your coats, and Sans turned off the lights. His forest-coloured eyelights were the only illumination in the room. As soon as he shuffled into bed beside you, you gratefully curled up against him, he was so calming and so warm. He reciprocated, wrapping his big arms around you, his comforting smell soothing your shot nerves.
“... Thank you.” Your voice was almost a whisper.
“yer really warm.” he hummed. “just so you know, i’m a bit of a snorer.”
You probably should’ve been more concerned, sharing a bed in a very secluded location with a guy you barely knew. But you didn’t have the energy for it. For the first time in a long time, you were warm, didn’t feel lonely, and weren’t worried at all about bugs.
“I don’t mind.”
... It was the best night’s sleep you’d ever had.
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Anyway, while I was gone I was thinking of this stupid idea with Bakugou (as usual)
Imagine your eighteenth birthday is when you find out who you’re bonded to, and this bond is created via telepathy. A connection opens between two souls, and you’re able to communicate with each other no matter where in the world you are. A connection that only becomes stronger as your relationship with your soulmate grows.
But of course, connections can be broken. The same way those dreamlike fantasies of meeting your perfect soulmate don’t always work— especially when your soulmate is Bakugou Katsuki.
The first time you try to communicate with him, he brushes you off. Telling you to “piss off”, that he doesn’t “need a fuckin’ soulmate”. It’s a time in his life that arguably he needs that connection with someone more than ever. But the feelings of inadequacy and inferiority he holds inside are at an all time high as he pushes everyone away, including you. Shutting the door on any hope you had of ever having a connection with him, of finding your soulmate.
You try again a few times after, watching all your friends develop their love and even meet their soulmates. Hating the green-eyed monster that appears when you realise how bitter you actually are— to be paired with someone that has no interest in you. Cursed to be one of the ones without a soulmate, to try and find a love with another broken person like you.
The conversations are always the same— his irritation for your very existence no match for the conversations you try to start. Making it abundantly clear to you that you’re a distraction, that he doesn’t have time for a soulmate. And yet amongst his complaining that you’ve opened the link at a bad moment, or that he doesn’t need you— he always answers.
So over time you find yourself starting to give up, wondering why you’ve wasted so much time on a man that clearly doesn’t want you. The connection going quiet as neither of you try to open the link.
Radio silence.
And what makes it worse, is your friends who have perfect connections pity you. One of the lost souls without a soulmate— which is why you’re prepared to join a special program. A program that can realign your connection— to tie your soul to another.
It’s unorthodox, an extreme measure that has an endless list of side-effects. You could end up with the more undesirable members of society, who’s connections have been severed before, or the ones that abuse the system for their own benefit— and if the second connection doesn’t work out you’re unable to claim a third. But craving that special bond with someone, picturing the perfect smiles and pickett fences it’s more than worth the risks. So you plan to do it— to sever your connection with your soulmate, and find a new one.
Someone who will actually love you.
But it isn’t until one night that you hear something at the back of your mind, barely a murmur as you shoot up in bed. Squinting as you try desperately to focus on the sound— another whimper. But you can’t seem to make out much else, as you realise that it’s the same connection that you thought was completely shattered all those years ago.
“Hello?” You feel almost stupid calling out, wondering if he even realised that you could hear him again— that you were there.
“Long time no talk, hah sweetheart?” He scoffs, a choked cough spills from his lips after as he winces in pain.
“You sound like shit— is that why you reconnected our bond at four am?”
“Must’ve called the wrong number, sweetheart.” He sneers, but you can almost hear the humour in his tone.
“Well luckily for you I’m going to break our bond.” You bite back as you’re met with silence on the other end, “So you won’t have to make the same mistake again.”
“You can do that?” He whispers.
“Yeah, they can reconnect me with someone else.” You murmur.
“They won’t be as good as me.” He manages to get out before another cough wracks through his body.
“I wouldn’t know, would I?” You scrunch your nose in irritation, “But at least they’ll want me.”
“Who said I don’t want you?”
It’s not until a month later that you find out the real reason he reconnected the bond that night. That it was the night that his heart stopped beating as he almost lost his life, his body shutting down as the only thing he could think to do was to call out for you.
#I’ve got a disgusting amount of soulmate ideas in my drafts#but some aren’t fully fleshed out#like I was thinking of computer programmed soulmates too#or like a lonely hearts club vibe where you can through cutting edge technology find a soulmate#think ready player one with the VR headsets#like those trashy dating games#and you fall in love in one of those fantasy worlds#LIKE BELLE!!!! ahhhh#but I digress#soft bakugou#I should tw:soulmates this cause I know how much some of you HATE soulmate tropes LOL
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SO MUCH TO LOSE - CHAPTER 9 - dark!Joel x f!Reader
Rating: 18+
Words: 7.4k
Chapter Tags: sexual tension, mentions of suggested abuse, girl-bonding, Joel being Joel, reader being oblivious.
PREVIOUS CHAPTER HERE
A/N: Y’ALL really came through with the comments! It made me stay up far too late typin’ away. But I’m glad to deliver this to my sweet audience and I hope you continue to bless me with your thoughts, reblogs and funny tags. Also lemme know if you have money and wanna give me some because your girl is BROKE y'all. BROKE.
Wednesday - my bb, my light, my sweet please never stop commenting on A03 because I read those like others read stories. I laugh, I cry, I emote. Never stop.
Also, two people should NEVER ride a horse when one’s in a saddle. It’s horrible for the horse! But this is fiction so y’all gotta forgive me for it, all right?
Lastly - Chapter 10 is.... gonna be memorable. That's all I'm sayin'.
SO MUCH TO LOSE: CHAPTER 9
You toss in bed a short while later, your mind going a mile a minute. You can't get the memory of Joel's furious face out of your mind. You can’t get Ellie’s sad eyes and her tensed shoulders to leave you. You can’t stop imagining what happened the second you left their home.
Part of you wanted to run right back to that house on Rancher Street and to beg Joel’s forgiveness for intruding. It was never your information to gather, not your place to pry. It was information never given willingly and for that you understand his fury. You understand it better than most.
But the other part of you, perhaps the part that had brought you to tears as you left had been the sight of Ellie's horror at your question. Of would Joel hurt her? Because in Ellie’s eyes you saw her own lingering question reflected.
Who hurt you?
It's too complicated to get into, too personal and that's why you think you feel this overwhelming sense of guilt. Because if you'd come home to the space you shared with someone else and heard them divulging your biggest secrets, your deepest wounds, you can't say you would have acted any different.
In fact, you might have been worse.
You turn your head, noting that it's only now starting to grow dark. You hadn't even bothered with dinner. Just pulled on your sleeping clothes and robe and thrown yourself into bed. You wanted to forget the hours before, wanted sleep to claim you and help you erase the day.
But you can’t. You just lay there twisted in your sheets, feeling like a stranger in your own body. You consider trying a warm shower when you hear a sudden thudding on your front door. This isn't Ellie or Jennifer. This is someone else and you have a pretty good idea who.
You think that you should just stay in bed, try to ignore the insistent pounding. But you need to pay for your mistake. This is your penance. You move down the stairs and to the front door opening it slowly.
Joel is standing on your porch, his broad frame looming over your door. His hands are on either side of the frame, braced as if he has to physically hold himself back.
When you pull the door open he juts his chin forward aggressively. He hasn't even bothered putting a jacket on, despite the weather. He's wearing just his green flannel and a scowl that makes you take a physical step back.
"Joel-"
"You think I'd hurt Ellie?" Joel says, teeth clenched. "Hurt my own fuckin' kid?"
You glance quickly over his shoulder noting that the street is deserted. Your street is one of the newer ones, less populated. It makes you nervous to see him looking so furious with no witnesses. But you answer him anyway.
"I don't know you at all," you tell him with a wince. "For all I knew you could have and I felt responsible."
His jaw is clenched tightly, ticking as he glares at you. You can see the fury building there in his frame and it makes you tremble. But you swallow, raising your spine and fixing him with what you hope is confidence.
"You yanked me around on patrols before," you remind him, swallowing your fear the best you can. "You're known for being ruthless with raiders. Most everyone is terrified of you. Is it really that much of a stretch?"
For the first time this evening you think that what you're saying registers with Joel because he blinks and some of that inky black in his gaze grows a soft brown.
"I've never hit you. Never come close." His voice is soft, almost admonished.
"No," you concede, "but you haven't exactly been gentle either."
Joel takes in the way you're cowering, the way you flinch when he shifts. He sobers, lowering his hands from your doorframe, pushing himself back from you.
"I'd never hurt a kid," he murmurs. “I’d never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it.”
He takes a moment to look at you, really look at you. You wonder if he sees the blotchy pink of your tear-stained face or the dark circles under your eyes from barely sleeping this week.
Joel's eyes narrow and without stepping closer to you it feels like he gets nearer when he speaks low and even.
"Your dad hurt you or somethin'?"
You're momentarily thrown by this question from Joel. He's never really asked you anything this personal before. You toy with the idea of closing the door on his face because he doesn’t deserve to know you this way. But you think of how vulnerable he must feel with you having all this information about his past, about his Sarah, and you answer.
"No," you tell him honestly. “My dad was amazing.”
"Your mom then?"
"No."
You cross your arms over your chest, indicating that the conversation is now at an end. You've shared as much as you are willing to at this point in time.
Joel looks equally stoic despite the nature of his questioning. His eyes drift over your body for the first time since he arrived at your doorstep, fixing on your sleep clothes and open robe before shooting back to your gaze. You pull your robe around your body, shivering at the cold draft coming in from the outside. Joel clears his throat.
"Ellie never should have told you all that about me," he says. "Wasn't her information to share."
"It was my fault. I never should have pressed her for details," you admit, talking to his shoulder. "It wasn't my place."
Joel exhales through his nose by way of reply. The two of you stand in quiet thought before you feel compelled to ask.
"Did Ellie get in a lot of trouble?"
When he doesn't answer you finally move your eyes from his shoulder to his face, surprised to see he's staring at you. He's not going to answer you, you realize. You barely know him and it's between him and his daughter.
You worry that you've messed everything up with Ellie. You feel like it's your fault that the fight happened at all. You think of how pleasant the afternoon had been with flower making and hair brushing. You hate to think of that going away. You swallow, gathering your nerves.
"Am I still allowed to teach her to bake?"
After a moment Joel sucks his teeth and nods shallowly.
You shift where you stand, one hand still on the doorknob. It's warm under your palm. If Joel was anyone else you'd invite him in for a hot drink given the weather. But as it's him you simply stand awkwardly across from him.
Joel peers into your face, gaze darting from each of your eyes to the next and back again. There's something about his stare that feels warm and heavy, something endless.
"Get some sleep."
He says it softly, a husky command with none of its usual bite. Then he's gone, giving you one last look before he's taking off down the stairs of your porch. You watch his tall frame head down your street, scissoring through the night air until he's nothing but mist.
And strangely the second you close the door you feel your feet taking you to your bed. You hear his voice quietly rumbling in your mind as you crawl under the covers.
Get some sleep.
Permission. A command. A hushed order that gives you the freedom to just sink into the warmth of your bed, to close your eyes and feel your breath even out.
And in seconds you're fast asleep.
///
Jennifer greets you when you open your door to leave for patrols the next day, crowding your doorframe.
"I thought we could walk to patrols together."
"Okay." You pull your jacket around you, bracing yourself.
You've known popular girls like Jennifer. The kind that roll their eyes and call you sensitive if you don't like how they treat you. You assume that this is what awaits you now.
"I'm so sorry for how I acted at the Bison."
You can’t say you were expecting that.
"I was trying to impress Joel," she continues. “Make it seem like we were all in on the joke together.”
When you see her standing there with her gloved hands clasped, looking apologetic you feel your animosity dropping from you like an unnecessary jacket.
"And I just... I never should have put you on the spot,” she continues. “I was just trying to go along with things, but that's not how friends act. My mama raised me better than that."
You know that what she's saying is important, but all you can focus on is that she just confirmed you two are friends. You have a real friend.
"S'okay," you offer quietly.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Did you get my cookies?"
"Yep, they were good."
You don't make it a habit to lie to friends but she looks so proud of herself that you can't help it. She beams, clearly proud of herself. She doesn’t need to know that they’re at the bottom of your waste bin.
"I'm so glad you liked them."
You want to say something kind to Jennifer, something that lets her know that you’ve forgiven her. Maybe its guilt from the fact that the cookies were barely touched. Whatever it is you scan her body, landing on her beautifully tailored jacket.
“I like your jacket,” you tell her, observing the dark green and black of the pattern and hood. “It’s really pretty.”
“Thanks, I made it myself,” she tells you proudly. “Barely any time at all.”
“Tell me you didn’t just make it just for this patrol,” you say fixing her with a look. Jennifer goes pink and starts giggling. “Jennifer!”
"Oh hush,” she says elbowing your side gently.
You can’t help but laugh at your friend as the two of you head off to patrols, chatting pleasantly as you make your way down the path to town. Jennifer is animated as always, her voice lilting and cheerful.
“Luke was really disappointed when you took off," she mentions with a sly smile and side eye. "I just know he's excited about today."
You flush, eyes on the ground, not saying anything. The truth is you're very excited to see Luke today. You want to learn more about him, see his likes and dislikes.
"Joel left soon after you did," Jennifer tells you with a frown after a few moments. "But I mean he came and had a drink with us so that has to count for something."
"Totally."
You've reached the fence and see three of the horses lined up, tied and waiting. Luke is patting Glimmer but he waves to you both as you approach. Your stomach flips pleasantly at the sight of his light hair falling into his eyes.
Chestnut whinnies gently as you approach, his long neck arching towards you. You smile as he ambles over to greet you the best he can.
"Hi boy," you whisper, gently patting down his long muzzle. "You having a good day? Huh?"
"Hiya Glimmer," Jennifer coos. You think that this must be her usual ride on her patrols.
"Morning Luke," you offer, trying to appear nonchalant.
"Mornin'." Luke’s smile is shy but earnest. "We missed ya this week."
"Yeah?"
He nods and you feel your face grow hot because you are sure Jennifer is staring at you both with a smirk. "Yeah, missed shootin’ with ya."
You busy yourself with running your hand over chestnuts flank, all the while trying not to read into things. Maybe Luke just likes having a fellow peer there?
Or maybe he likes me.
You have to admit to yourself that you have a crush even if crushes feel so adolescent in your mind after everything that happened to the world. But there’s something that makes you want to laugh at the way some things never change. Humans will continue to lust, even after the earth is swallowed by disease.
"Looks like a simple enough job," Jennifer observes looking at the few pieces of lumber strapped to the horses. Enough that it's good for building but not too heavy for them to carry. You go to reply when you hear a booming voice sounding out behind you.
"S'a fucking joke. Gettin' them all the way over here just to be one short."
Joel is arguing with Hank, one of the crew. Hank is an older with an under bite and bushy eyebrows. He fixes Joel with a formidable stare. He’s one of the few in Jackson City not intimidated by the elder Miller.
"I don't know what to tell ya Joel," Hank shrugs. "It's all we got."
"What's going on?" Jennifer asks, swanning over to the men. She stands close to Joel, her shoulder brushing against his. You notice as his dark eyes sweep over her face as he notices her.
"Only three horses available today," Hank explains to her. "Others were taken out."
"Why?"
"Heard about an intercepted shipment of medicine nearby. Sent a bunch of folks after it. Anyway, one of you'll have to double up."
Joel makes a huffing noise before shouldering past Hank and hauling himself up onto Midnight. He's made it very clear he won't be riding with anyone. That leaves you, Jennifer and Luke. In habit you go to grab Chestnut’s bridle. Jennifer is determined not to go down without a fight.
"I'm small," Jennifer says in a breathy voice you don't really recognize as hers. "I'll double."
She looks directly at Joel who is going to great lengths to look anywhere else. If it weren’t so awkward you might have laughed, but instead you try to hide your smile behind your glove.
Oblivious to the dynamic, Luke pats the side of his horse.
"You can ride on the back of mine if you want Jenny," Luke offers with a friendly tip of his head.
Your smile immediately dies. Why didn’t you volunteer? Jennifer pauses, waiting for Joel to inject.
Get the fucking hint, Joel.
He doesn’t. He just shifts the two guns he’s carrying on his back, clearing his throat.
You see how crestfallen Jennifer looks, but it’s for only a moment before she shines a bright smile Luke's way as she hauls herself up behind him, lacing her hands around his middle.
"Thanks, Luke."
With that settled you yourself mount Chestnut, stroking his mane gently. Hank comes over to hand you a backpack. It’s heavy and you make a soft huffing noise when you hoist it onto your shoulders.
“Nails and hammers,” Hank explains. “You got it?”
“Yep,” you nod, trying to look in command of yourself with Luke’s eyes on you. “No problem.”
You feel the coarse hair of Chestnut under your gloved fingertips and squeeze your thighs to prompt him forward. You follow after Joel in habit with Glimmer carrying Luke and Jennifer close behind. The ride to Teton is quiet, but not in a tense way, more distracted.
The backpack as it stands is a problem though because you’re wincing with every jostling step Chestnut takes. The bag is impossibly heavy and it digs into your shoulders like a too-tight bra.
You hear Luke and Jennifer quietly talking with one another on Glimmer. There are quiet giggles and you hear Luke chuckle softly. You feel irritated at Joel not taking Jennifer on his horse with him. Of course he wouldn't - Joel gets his way every time. So you've lost your chance to bond with Luke.
You could be on the back of Glimmer with him. Your arms could be around Luke's waist right now, your thighs bracketing his. You could be feeling the warmth of his body seeping into your front.
But you're not.
You're stuck in the middle listening to Luke's gentle chuckle behind you and watching Joel's broad frame in front of you. As you stare at Joel with the guns on his back your mind drifts to last night.
Have you and Joel moved past your mutual disdain for one another? You’re not quite sure. Right now you’re irritated with him, but there’s less bite to it today. You think maybe you’re both at a polite acceptance of one another. Joel looks back every now and again, his eyes sailing to you and the group behind you. You roll your shoulders, gritting your teeth when the bag digs into the flesh there.
“’Bout halfway there,” he tells the group even though you’re well aware.
Joel is a natural leader checking in on his troops. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was in the forces before all of this. You know that he worked in construction and that he must have been around horses considering he’s such a capable rider. But that’s it.
Perhaps he and Sarah rode horses together. This thought comes to you despite knowing nothing about the girl. Nevertheless you wonder what she looked like. Was she dour and broad like Joel? You imagine her as bubbly and quick with his dark hair.
You watch as Joel slows Midnight and Chestnut quickly overtakes him, their hooves trotting along the earth until the two of you ride side by side. You’re confused and you feel Joel’s eyes on your profile and after a moment you turn to see him staring at the bag and then back to your face.
“Gimme the bag,” he orders gently.
“I’m fine,” you lie. You wonder if he can see the strain in your neck as you say this. He rolls his eyes, huffing out his nostrils.
“You need to be carrying a weapon,” Joel informs you. “Won’t do much damage to a Raider with a heavy backpack.”
He’s right. He’s not doing it to be nice; he’s doing it to be efficient. How Joel of him.
You want to fight him on it but the thought of having the heavy thing off your shoulders is too appealing. You relent as the horses come to stop beside one another. You tug off your bag, handing it to Joel who straps one of the guns to the side of it and slings it over his muscled shoulders. The bag doesn’t even look oversized on him and he carries it with no strain whatsoever.
He hands you off the large shotgun and you throw it over your shoulder, thankful for the padding in the leather sling. Without another word Joel makes a clicking noise with his tongue against his teeth and he and Midnight quickly head up the group once more.
When you get to Teton Village and the four of you do the usual perimeter check you’re feeling bolder and a little bit restless. You feel like you want to impress Luke but can’t think of any meaningful way to do so. He’ll be upstairs hammering and nailing while you stand watch at the window like a senior citizen waiting for the postman. It’s almost embarrassing that you were brought along at all.
When you approach the outpost though you have an idea on how to appear more capable. You urge Chestnut on ahead of Joel and tie the sweet creature quickly to the tree before jogging up the large old library steps.
“I’ve got the lock,” you call over your shoulder casually. Joel is already off his horse and striding towards you with several pieces of lumber slung over his shoulder; Luke is helping Jennifer off of Glimmer. You turn back, fiddling with the code confidently.
It doesn’t work.
“Fuck.”
You try it again, the same one you were taught and then you tug. It’s still not working.
“C’mon,” you whisper angrily to yourself, “c’mon you piece of shit.”
Again the silver tabs are moved to the correct code and again you jerk it only to find it sticking fast. Is it the encroaching cool weather? Your confidence is hanging by a thread when a large ungloved hand comes out of nowhere, coming to gently bat your fingers away.
“Code changed last week,” Joel says lowly behind you.
You feel the warmth of his taller body behind you, his words stirring the hair at the back of your head. You say nothing as you watch his fingers fiddle with the new numbers, sliding them into place. You want to memorize them for next time. His arm rests beside your shoulder as he works his thick thumbs slide the silver tabs. Finally it unlocks and Joel removes the lock, placing it in his pocket.
“Sorry you couldn’t impress your little boyfriend.”
You feel your cheeks burn with humiliation despite the fact that only he and you could hear the murmured remark. He moves past you, Luke and Jennifer carry the remaining lumber. The four of you make your way into the house and wordlessly Joel heads upstairs to begin.
“That was so sweet of Joel to take the bag,” Jennifer whispers to you with hearts in her eyes. “Chivalrous.”
You don’t reply. Why shatter her illusion of who she thinks Joel is? Maybe with her affection and softness he could become that. Maybe with the right woman Joel Miller is chivalrous and romantic.
Maybe it’s just with you that he’s an antagonistic asshole.
The three of them pad up the stairs with the supplies as you stand by the door. You know you're not much use upstairs so you busy yourself writing in the log notes about the repairs. You hear the banging and the conversations upstairs as you move from the small room towards the window of the fireplace room; your eyes surveying the grey of old snow.
You yawn after a short while, bored. There’s nothing out there. There never is in town. That’s why you like Teton village so much. It’s quiet and sleepy and there’s no real danger. Perhaps it’s the large buildings or the lack of footprints. Whatever it is, you find yourself relaxing.
Joel and Jennifer jog down the stairs with Joel not passing you a glance. Jennifer gives you a thumbs up and mouths “getting more wood”. You hear the sound of Luke hammering upstairs and take a moment to consider your next moves.
This may be your only chance.
You scurry up the steps towards the far room, following the sound of Luke’s hammering. You stop when you see him, mid hammer. His back muscles ripple under his t-shirt, a line of sweat down the middle. It’s warm in this room, and judging by the repairs done they have been working quickly and efficiently.
“Hey,” you offer as you approach him, heartened when he turns and flashes you a friendly smile, wiping the sweat from his brow with the bottom of his t-shirt. You turn away at the sliver of taut abdomen that shows itself when he does. Your whole body is going tingly.
“Hey, you come to help us?”
“Oh I would just slow you down,” you say with a shy laugh, your eyes landing anywhere but his handsome face. “Every time I try to hammer the nail goes crooked.”
“You just haven’t been taught correctly then,” Luke ventures, “come here and I’ll give you a lesson.”
You try to keep yourself from jogging over, attempting to appear casual. He holds his hammer out to you as you approach.
"Here.”
You take it from him, facing the sill of the window that he’s been working on. You nearly jolt when you feel his hands land on your shoulders. He notices your flinch, his hands flying off of you at the first contact.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry just distracted,” you insist, feeling your cheeks heat. “Keep going. I’m fine.”
Luke’s hands go to your wrists now, placing the nail in your left fingers and positioning it on the sill.
“You just need to start with it straight. Lotta people angle it without thinking and…”
You know that Luke’s talking more but you’re having trouble focusing because you feel him pressing up behind you, his hand sliding over yours and helping you to hold the nail in place.
“A lot of people make the mistake of hitting the nail shallowly a bunch of times instead of once or twice with harsh blows,” he explains. You feel a warmth go through your body as Luke's curls over yours. He’s so tall, so gentle, so earnest. You feel his voice rumbling through his chest into your back.
He places the hammer in your right hand before he covers your hand with his effectively holding each of your hands like you're a puppet. He positions the nail in the wood once more, bringing your hand and the hammer back. You’re completely boneless, letting yourself melt into his arms.
"So if you hold it-"
Whatever thought Luke had dies at the sound of Joel's rasping voice behind you.
"What're you doin'?"
You and Luke glance over your shoulders to see Joel scowling. He's got a stack of the remaining lumber over his shoulder. Jennifer is beside him, looking between Luke and Joel in confusion, a box of nails in her grip.
Luke still has his arms around yours, guiding you. Both sets of arms are raised midway. It looks like you’re in some strange dance routine involving hammers and nails. Joel drops the lumber to the floor with a thud, his gaze icily on Luke.
"I was just teaching her how to put up the frame," Luke explains with a soft tone. You recognize that he's a gentle man, not one for confrontation. Joel intimidates him; he likely has since he met him. For whatever reason Joel is especially cold to Luke.
"This ain't a teachin' moment," Joel all but growls, his larger frame barreling towards the two of you. "We're here to do a job and get it done fast so we don’t draw attention."
You feel Luke shrinking back, arms lowering, but his frame still rests behind you as if he's worried about leaving you entirely.
"I wanted to learn how to do the repairs," you explain trying to be diplomatic.
"S'not why you were brought," Joel bites back.
He shocks you when he reaches out to take your wrist, tugging you away from Luke. You stagger towards Joel, eyes wide almost barreling into his chest. He holds you tightly, looking down into your face.
"You're here to keep watch while we do this. That’s your job."
His voice is harsh but his eyes are gentle. It's a confusing dichotomy that has you careening from one emotion to the next. You settle on anger when you feel Jennifer and Luke watching you. Your cheeks burn with humiliation at being talked to like this in front of them and you shoot a glare at Joel before you wrench your wrist his grip.
“Let’s break for lunch,” Jennifer suggests, noting the tension.
“Good idea,” Luke says with a smile.
Everyone waits for Joel’s eventual nod before the four of you head downstairs to the log room.
There are thankfully enough chairs because you can’t imagine the awkwardness of standing around eating after everything that happened. Right now you want to sink into your chair and disappear for a few hours.
What the fuck is Joel’s problem?
Jennifer thankfully starts chatting to fill the silence and pulls out the meals from her bag. Two sandwiches each, a thermos of coffee and what appears to be fresh brownies along with the usual water and apples.
Joel goes off for a moment, muttering about feeding the horses. The three of you take a seat around the table, focused on the sweet-smelling brownies.
“Those look so good,” Luke says when Jennifer pulls them out. “I love baked goods.”
“You should try her stuff,” Jennifer says motioning to you with a wink. “Everyone in town says how good her baking is.”
You could kiss Jennifer for the way she’s trying to make you look good in front of Luke. You make a mental note to do the same for her and Joel. Jennifer has many good redeeming qualities and Joel just simply doesn’t see them.
“S’not that good,” you say with a shy little giggle as you bite into your sandwich.
“It is so!” Jennifer insists, unwrapping her own.
“Guess I’ll have to see for myself,” Luke says grinning and taking a sip of his coffee. You don’t say anything but you shift slightly when Joel comes to take the empty seat next to you. He reaches across you to grab one of the sandwiches, peeling back the waxy cloth that holds it.
The room goes quiet again, a side effect of Joel-Miller-iti; because whenever he enters a room it goes deadly quiet. You wonder if he was like this before – was he always so gruff? So grumpy? How could Tommy be so opposite to him?
You wish it was Tommy with the rest of you today. Tommy with his easy laugh and warm countenance. You expect the rest of lunch to go in silence when all of a sudden it’s Joel who breaks it.
"You're good at window repair, Jenny. You must’ve done a lot.”
Jennifer flushes prettily and thanks him in a voice that feels a lot more breathy than necessary.
For some reason this innocuous comment from Joel has your fingers curling into the wood table. Your leg starts to twitch as you rock your leg up and down restlessly on the ball of your foot.
You spent weeks trying to earn Joel’s praise as a patrol partner. You were dutiful and listened and tried your best and he gave you nothing back unless his cock was in your mouth. Jennifer has been working for thirty minutes and he gives her his praise so freely?
If he wasn't sitting beside you, you would be fixing him with your most glowering stare. You wish you weren’t so shy, so quiet. You’d give him a piece of your mind next week on patrols if you had the guts.
“I grew up doing repairs on our house with my brothers,” Jennifer answers and you know she’s beside herself with all this attention from Joel. He’s got his eyes fixed on her and his normally scowling face is brighter, his mouth in a polite smile.
“You had good teachers.”
“I taught them, actually,” she smiles brightly.
“Impressive.”
You continue to bop your leg, the feeling distracting you from your frustration. You hasten a glance at Luke who hasn’t so much as glanced up from his lunch since the meal started. He’s shy like you, quiet and introspective especially when Joel is around. You think that’s why you enjoy his company so much. You feel like you want him to feel included.
“You did construction too, right Luke?”
“Yep,” he nods, swallowing before taking one of the brownies and breaking it apart in his hands. “Cabinetry especially.
“Cool,” you offer awkwardly. You wish you knew more about the topic but your interest and acumen in that field is limited. Your knee continues to bop anxiously as you try to think of ways to get the conversation to continue.
“I was just learning flooring and trim carpentry when the outbreak started,” he continues as you nod along as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.
“Oh, wow.”
Jennifer keeps sneaking looks across the table at Joel and if your hunch is correct he’s probably doing the same to her. Despite your previous annoyance with him the thought warms you, that perhaps there is a mutual attraction for your friend and Joel. You wonder if you should warn her about Joel’s temper but decide that Joel may not show that side of himself to her if he can help it.
After what you’ve learned about Joel and Sarah, there is a softness inside you that maybe thinks Jennifer could be good for Joel. You resolve to do whatever you can to make it work for them. Joel isn’t your friend, but Jennifer is. And if she wants Joel you’ll do all you can to make it happen.
You almost yelp when Joel's hand grips your knee, holding your restless leg in place. He leans towards you, voice dropping a register and sliding into a soft rasp.
"Stop shakin' your damn leg. You’re knockin’ over the coffees."
You’re doing no such thing, but part of you thinks he misses ordering you around. He must like the sense of control it gives him. He misses being a big shot and you’re the closest thing he has to a professional underling. All your kind sentiments about him go flying out the window. You were naïve to think there could be a possible friendship there. Hell, not even a friendship – just a respectful mutual tolerance.
You feel an embarrassed flush cross your features, pulling back from Joel’s touch. His fingers slowly unlatch from your knee and his palm lingers a moment before being removed entirely.
“You do a lot of repairs before all this?” Jennifer asks Joel. You surprise yourself by listening, intrigued for more information on pre-outbreak Joel.
“Yep.”
He takes a long swig of his coffee before wiping at his mouth and speaking before Jennifer has the chance to ask more follow up personal questions.
“Alright, let’s finish it up. I’ll see you two up there.”
He doesn’t spare anyone a glance before he’s on his feet, heading up the stairs. Luke joins him moments later, leaving you and Jennifer sitting across from one another.
When she’s certain the men are upstairs she looks beside herself with delight and leans forward conspiratorially.
“Do you think Joel was flirting?” she whispers, her light eyes dancing. “I mean, Luke is way better at repairs but he didn’t say anything nice to him.”
“Definitely,” you reason, looking thoughtful. “He doesn’t really talk much normally, so I think that’s a good sign.”
“I’m gonna ride back with him,” Jennifer says hiding a giggle behind her hand.
“Go for it,” you say, unable to stop from smiling. You can’t help but enjoy her excitement.
“I wonder what he kisses like,” she muses, her eyes dreamy. You shrug your shoulders and she fixes you with that same sisterly look. “When’s the last time you had a really good make out?”
“Uh…” you trail off, your cheeks heating. “We can talk about it later. He’ll be pissed off if you don’t get up there soon. Don’t wanna blow your chances now.”
Jennifer gives you a grateful squeeze on the shoulder as she passes, calling up to Joel and Luke that she’s just grabbing some extra nails. You don’t hear their reply because you’ve dragged yourself to the window, your eyes scanning.
You hear them nailing upstairs, the muffled sound of their talking. As always you're on the edge, forever on the outside. You chew at the inside of your cheek in irritation, your eyes scanning the outside.
It's not long after that the three come back downstairs dressed for travel. Jennifer is pulling on her gloves and chatting with Luke about the rumors of heavy snow and Joel is carrying his bag with the tools over one shoulder. He fixes you with an expectant stare, brows raised.
"See anythin’?"
"Nope. Would've said something if I did."
Joel stares at you, unblinking and you're confused when you see a small curl of his lip in amusement.
"S'go."
The four of you trudge towards the waiting horses. Chestnut looks excited to see you and you grin as you approach. You press your forehead to his cheek, stroking down his flank as the rest of the group begins to pick a horse.
"I can ride with someone again," Jennifer offers and you watch with a touch of amusement as she subtly steps towards Joel who has just climbed atop Midnight.
"Nah, let's switch it up," Joel says gruffly. "That way s’fair for everyone."
Luke looks your way and you hold in a nervous grin. He’s going to make the same offer to you that he did to Jennifer because he’s a gentleman that way.
The thought has your stomach fluttering excitedly. You think of how your arms will wrap around his middle, how you’ll find an excuse to press your cheek to his shoulder blade. How your thighs will-
"Get on."
Your brows knit together in confusion as you gaze up to your right to see Joel on his horse, holding out a gloved hand in front of your face. His curls fall into his forehead as he tilts towards you, mouth in a firm line.
What the fuck is he doing? Why is he trying to fuck this up for you?
“S’go,” Joel tells you, shaking an impatient outstretched hand from atop of his horse. He looks like he’s irritated out of his mind as you make your decision.
"Oh, uh," you glance at the disappointment in Luke's face before turning back to Joel, trying to hide your irritation.
It makes sense after all; Luke already had to ride with Jennifer. But a part of you had been hoping to spend a bit of time with him on the horse. It's been a long while since a man intrigued you like Luke.
"We don't have all day," Joel snipes at your hesitation. "Let's go."
Jennifer strides forward, taking Chestnut’s bridle from you. You hand it over before looking back up at Joel who waits with one hand on his saddle horn, the other still at your eye level.
You clench your jaw and take his hand, hooking your foot into the footing of Midnight’s saddle and feeling the muscle of Joel’s arm as you grip his bicep and he pulls you astride the horses back behind him.
He shifts, giving you room to slide behind the saddle. You do so, holding in a sigh as you position yourself atop the strong animal. You feel Midnight's ribs under your legs, wider than Chestnut's. He's a pitch black mare with a coat that currently glistens. He's always been a rather imposing horse, hesitant around new people. Riding him is like being in a room alone with Joel – intimidating.
"Hold on," Joel instructs before clicking his tongue, encouraging Midnight to start walking. The horse jerks to a start, causing you to dig your legs into Midnight’s side. You’re lucky the horse doesn’t kick you off for it.
You look over your shoulder to see Jennifer on Chestnut a few paces back. You give her a look that shows how displeased you are to be with Joel, replete with an eye roll. She returns it with a weak smile before her focus is back on the trail. Luke is looking off into the surrounding area, his eyes scanning for threats as he sits straight-backed on Glimmer.
You turn back to face ahead of you, displeased.
At first you barely touch Joel, hands resting on your thighs as the four of you bob along the trail. No one is talking now. The air is filled with an unexpected tension that you can’t for the life of you understand.
Your front is pressed against Joel's back, squeezing gently to make sure you don't slide off. Midnight makes a jostling step off the path before righting himself. It sends you slipping back, your thighs digging into the horse’s side and your hands going to grab Joel lightly by his jacket.
"Unless you wanna fall off I suggest you hold tighter n'that." Joel bites off.
You know he’s correct. Sitting this awkwardly is only a burden on Midnight. Your arms snake around Joel’s waist and hold there below his sternum. His chest is broad, his arms muscled, his thighs strong. Everything about him is masculine and tough. All but the soft look of his dark brown curls threaded with grey which curl under his ears just slightly.
Despite everything you've experienced with Joel, actually physically touching him is surreal. You know the feel of his cock in your palm and on your tongue, the taste of his come. But now you can explore the rest of his body first with your eyes and then your hands.
Up this close to Joel you see the freckles on his golden skin and the way he holds himself stiffly straight in front of you. He’s so broad, his entire disposition that of protector. You can understand why Ellie feels safe with him.
You marvel at the smooth sensation of his jacket under your fingertips, the warmth of his body. This close to Joel you inhale the scent of leather and homemade lavender soap from Hannah's. You could almost laugh that you both use the same scent mostly because Joel Miller smelling like flowers is an amusing thought.
You pass through a different path on your way back as you always do and are irritated with the sight of the overturned trees. The roots are ugly, twisted things that poke out from the light dusting of snow.
“Shit,” Joel mutters to himself.
Midnight rears back sharply and in a panic your arms wrap more tightly around Joel’s waist, suddenly anxious. You're surprised when Joel's left hand goes to cover your grip knotted against his middle, holding you in place.
Joel grunts out a grumbled whoa boy before tugging Midnight’s reigns with his right hand to get him to obey. His hand is big, warming you despite the gloves you both wear.
"Careful," Joel calls over his shoulder to Jennifer and Luke. "Some big roots here."
The two of them call out that they've heard him. You twist to look over your shoulder and watch them navigate Chestnut and Glimmer over the uprooted tree. Luckily it doesn’t take long before the four of you are back on the path heading home with no more obstacles in the foreseeable future.
You glance behind you to see Jennifer looking miserable on Glimmer. She looks so disappointed and you want to slap Joel upside the head for missing how obviously into him she is. You think of earlier, when Joel observed her skills and an idea comes to you.
“Hey Jennifer?”
“Yeah?”
“I really like your jacket,” you fumble for a way to make this sound natural.
Jennifer shoots you a confused look, curious as to where you’re going with this. “Uh, thanks.”
“Did you get it from town?”
“I made it,” she tells you, the silent you already know that, reflected in her gaze.
“Wow, you’re so gifted. You made those amazing curtains in your place too, right?”
“I did.”
“You’re so good at making stuff,” you gush. “Especially clothes. You make men's clothes too, right Jennifer? Like jackets?"
"Uh yeah," she says slowly before her confusion fades, realizing what you're getting at. She smiles cheekily at you. "Yeah, I can make jackets, jeans, t-shirts, all that stuff."
“You’re so talented at it,” you gush. Luke is looking over your way and you feel the need to really drive it home. “I mean, with the holidays coming up I might just want to get a dress from you.”
You have never worn a dress in your life. Not unless your mother forced you into them as a child. But you need to sell this idea that Jennifer is a domestic goddess. You’ll leave out the part about her baking.
“I could make us matching ones,” she says with a wink. You hold in a giggle at the thought.
“I’d like to see that,” Luke offers shyly from behind Jennifer who shoots a delighted look in your direction complete with dramatically mouthed ‘he likes you!’. You flush at the attention, your lips pursing into a pleased grin.
You feel Joel's trunk stiffen in your arms and his hand drops from over yours. He replaces it on the reigns.
"Keep it down," Joel hisses over his shoulder at you and the others. "Unless you were hopin’ to guide Raiders our way?"
The two of them go quiet and you cringe internally. You don't know why but you suppose it's because Joel is your patrol partner. A reflection on you in some ways and he's coming off like a major asshole right now. Your arms loosen around his middle finding that the horse is now on smoother terrain.
You glance over at Jennifer about to give her a sympathetic look but she shoots you an exaggerated eyebrow waggle and mouths the words "still sexy" with a head tilt at Joel. You barely suppress a surprised giggle, irritating Joel further.
"What's so fuckin’ funny?"
"Nothing."
------------------------------------
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hot pink
Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!Reader
Prompt: Pegging
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, tiny bit of addiction talk, reader doesn’t cum (lmk if I forgot anything)
WC: 3.5k
A/N: this is so long omg i hope u guys like it <3 (not proofread) and i know basically nothing about pegging except that its hot so if anything is explained in-correctly just shhh and pretend pls
“So you just let her…” Steve trails off, too stunned to finish his sentence. Eddie is red from laughter and a twinge of embarrassment at Steve’s reaction. “Yes, but Steve-” He cuts himself off with another laugh as Steve’s eyes widen comically at Eddie’s confirmation. “You have to just try it, man.” Steve’s already shaking his head as he takes a sip of his beer, trying to think it over but unable to see a scenario in which he’d enjoy himself.
“Look, Eddie.” He chuckles a bit. “Some guys are into that and-” Eddie cuts him off with a groan. “No, Harrington, you’re not getting me. I didn’t want to! She convinced me and promised that we could do whatever I wanted if I didn’t like it.” He pauses for a bit for dramatic effect. “But I fuckin’ loved it.” Steve breathes out a surprised sigh at Eddie’s words. “It feels weird at first, sure, but once she finds this spot. She says it’s my prostate-” He scoots closer to Steve to explain. “So apparently you know how she has a G-Spot? Your girl?” He waits for Steve to nod at him.
“Yeah, I know.” Steve’s face is bright red, embarrassed at this entire conversation. “Okay, yeah, it’s like we have one of those but it’s in our ass. So I’m kinda like… Does that mean we’re supposed to have something up our asses?” He raises his hands in defense when Steve turns to him with a disbelieving stare. “I’m just saying! Like- why is it there? If not to be played with? I don’t know, man, seems weird.” Eddie’s half-joking now, saying these things mostly to get a rise out of Steve, amused by how red his face gets. “Whatever. Just like- don’t knock it ‘til you try it, y’know?” Steve nods silently at Eddie and the conversation moves on, they light up another joint and talk about where Eddie’s next gig is supposed to be. Steve’s mind, however, never moves on.
You’ve had this thought too. Eddie’s girlfriend, Bunny, had gifted you a strap-on about six months ago after convincing Eddie to let her peg him. She says it’s almost better than sex, despite the large drop in stimulation she's receiving. You thought she was crazy when she gave you the hot pink strap, you tried to give it back immediately, without even fully understanding what it was for. She and Eddie are just so much more- aggressive than you and Steve. The pair always has some new sex story to share with you two and you’ve never found any of them appealing, until she told you that one.
“No- he was so cute too! He was face down on the bed- I know.” She giggles in agreement when your eyes widen with your smile. “And he wouldn’t shut up! He was whining almost the whole time, his hands were like- ugh he’s so cute. He was like trying to reach back for me the whole time!” You try not to show how her story was heating your body up as she squeals about Eddie. You’re imagining Steve in his place and the thought- although it’s one you’ve never had before- becomes the main thing on your mind. It just got worse over the six months of you keeping it a secret. You didn’t want to over-share, unsure if Eddie was okay with the fact that she told you, and not wanting to scare Steve off. The kinkiest thing the two of you have done is have sex in a changing room, you haven’t even brought toys into the bedroom yet so how are you supposed to ask him if you can stick a silicone rod up his ass? You can’t. So the strap collected dust at the top of your closet.
Steve comes home almost drunk, tipsy enough that Wayne had to drive him home and he stinks of weed, letting you know he had a good night with Eddie. He can stand on his own, not swaying or anything but he has this delirious smile on his face and a cloudiness over his eyes that tells you he’s intoxicated. He opens his arms for you the moment you open the door and buries you in a hug. You wave behind him aimlessly, hoping Wayne is in the driveway and can see your appreciation. He walks you inside, your face still buried in his chest and your hands wrapped around his waist. “Missed you s’much, honeybun.”
You snort at the nickname and pull away from him, eyes closing in relaxation when he presses a wet, loving kiss to your forehead. “Oh-” He sees his slobber on your forehead and blushes with an adorably embarrassed smile as he pulls his sleeve to his palm and rubs his spit off your head. “Sorry, darling. That’s so na-” You cut him off with a giggle, crush him into another hug, and lean up onto your tip-toes to kiss him properly. He exhales a sigh of relief, of contentedness as your lips cover his before you pull away. “I missed you too, baby.” He beams like a little boy at your statement, his chest filling with love for you. “Good.”
You both giggle your way to his room and he changes as you sit on his bed, watching him. He sobers up a bit in the process, needing his brain power since you’re not helping him. He fumbles with his button-up pajama shirt and looks over at you pathetically. He could do it himself if he really tried but he has fat, dumb fingers, while yours are cute and dainty, so he’d rather just ask you for help. You smile at him knowingly and slowly walk over to him, reaching your hands out to button his shirt while he holds your eye contact. “Soo.. How was your time with Eddie?” You ask gently, finally breaking the silence.
He thinks through the hangout again, trying to decide which part he wants to tell you first but then the memory of a certain conversation smacks into his mind. You can see he’s remembered something big by the sharp inhale he takes, he also straightens his shoulders, fixing his posture a bit as red leaks into his face. “What?” You ask with a giggle, surprised at his reaction and unable to think of what would even make him react this way. He stops your hands on his buttons and that brings your eyes to his, seeing their fear. You pull away from his shirt, a bit scared at his intensity. His eyes flicker to the bed for a moment. “Do you wanna sit?”
You nod silently but now your mind is running wild with thoughts.
Eddie got him to do crack. Now he’s addicted. Fuck. No- No, Eddie probably ordered a hooker or something and cheated on Bunny! Or he ordered the hooker for Steve… And he cheated… No. He would never. So..? Oh my god. It’s meth. Steve’s addicted to meth.
Steve sits silently beside you, his hands wringing each other nervously, only worsening your thoughts. He takes a breath to say something but loses his nerve.
What if she thinks it’s too weird? What if she leaves you over this, goes to all her friends, and talks about how Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington wants a dick up his ass. Shit. Should I just abort?.. No. I mean, she wouldn’t do that, would she? No. No, of course not.
“Um.” He finally starts and your body tenses, preparing for the worst. He won’t even look at you, his gaze is fixed on his nails as he picks at his cuticles. “I- Eddie talked about something. I kinda- It sounded intriguing- Well. It- It sounded scary at first.” He breathes out an incredulous chuckle. “I was like- No way. But then- uh. Then I imagined it with… With you and-” A shaky sigh falls from his lips and you turn to him. His face is beet red and his hands are shaking lightly when he rubs them against his thighs, trying to help with the clamminess.
“And after I did that it- The idea became very, very appealing. Like- It’s kinda embarrassing how bad I- How badly I want it…” You begin to get a bit nervous at how he’s dancing around the topic, and how vague he’s being. He turns to you for a moment, his face getting redder when he realizes you’ve been looking at him. “Don’t- Just uh, don’t judge me too fast, okay? Eddie, he- he made it sound really- really good, sweetheart.”
Your heart is racing, his intense gaze piercing into your soul. “You’re scaring me, Steve.” His eyes widen and he takes your hand into his, you try not to make a face at how damp his palm is. “It’s- I mean it’s not bad. I hope you don’t think it is. Uhm…” He takes a deep breath and breaks your eye contact to analyze the bedsheets. “Have you heard of, um… p-pegging?”
A light spreads through your body and you fight the smile that wants to crack your face open, trying to stay more neutral. “Yeah… Why?” He looks up at you hesitantly, his eyes are scared and desperate. His eyelids flutter as his lips tremble, “I - I want-” He whines and pulls away from you, conceding. “Nevermind. It’s- Fuck. It’s probably too late to backtrack, huh?” His hand combs through his hair, embarrassed, stressed, and scared for your reaction.
You stay silent for a bit as Steve gets lost in his thoughts, you’re considering your options and ultimately decide to show him. You stand and start walking to the closet, Steve exhales a frantic sigh and you hear him stand behind you. “You- Don’t be weird about it, I just-” You grab the box and turn around, holding it out to show him, picture side first. His mouth shuts immediately. He’s frozen where he stands, just staring at the box in your hands. Now you’re growing nervous at his silence. You chuckle nervously and walk back to where you were sitting on the bed, handing him the box and his eyes never leave it.
“Bunny gave this to me a while ago… I never said anything ‘cus I didn’t think you’d want to but-” He finally lifts his gaze to you and you lose your breath at his state, already needy and wanting. “We could… If- I mean if you want we can t-try?” You feel like you’re vibrating in your seat, anxious but excited at the same time because Steve has been nodding at you since your sentence started. You giggle and take the box from his hand, turning to put it in your top drawer until the time is right. You giggle at your thought before turning back around to voice it to Steve.
He’s fumbling with his buttons, his pants already off and a prominent bulge in his boxers.
“Oh! Right- Right now? You want it right now?” You ask, audibly shocked and his hands freeze. He looks at you, embarrassed and you instantly feel bad for your tone. “I thought you’d be too drunk, baby.” He shakes his head lightly. “I’m not drunk anymore.” His tone is so soft, delicate as he speaks and it brings a smile to your face. You look him up and down, your smile widening at the dark spot spreading around his tip. You walk over to him slowly and watch his breathing speed up the closer you get.
“Then get on the bed.” You say with an innocent tilt to your voice that ruins him. He moans at your words and basically throws himself on the bed. He’s wiggling his clothes off as you read the instructions for the strap, trying to figure out how you’re supposed to situate it over your hips. You get it up your legs before having to look back at the instructions, following each step as carefully as you could, but still left with the leather straps sliding down your legs instead of holding your dick in place.
“Baby?” Embarrassment and a bit of amusement flood you as Steve calls out. You turn around begrudgingly and bite your lip at the sight. He’s laid out across his bed, his entire body flushed and blushing for you, his dick kissing his belly as his hips thrust into the air gently. You walk over to him with a shy smile on your face, holding the strap up on your hip as you climb over him. “I think I need your help.”
He’s mesmerized by the silicone cock, how it hands between your legs, how the hot pink color matches your character perfectly, like it’s meant to be your dick. “Yeah. Yes, I can help.” He sits up and starts pulling random straps until something tightens, then does the same with the other side. “Thanks, baby. Can you make sure the back straps are all secure?” You turn around and bend for him, not totally aware of the way you’re putting yourself on display for him. His eyes can’t help but gravitate to your ass, admiring the way the leather straps dig into the plush of it, leaving little indents on your skin. “A- all set, sweetheart.” He says with a light pat on your ass to tell you that you can turn back around.
You turn to him with a smirk and he just stares up at you. His pink lips are wet and bitten and so alluring. You lean down and bury them in a kiss, smothering his lips with yours and breathing in every whine he gives. You pull away with a smile and he makes no move to flip over, his hands just rest on your hips as you stare at him. You lift off of him, and all he gives you is a confused stare… Himbo.
“Face down-” His breathing shudders. “Ass up, sweetheart.” He whines and flips over for you, but leaves his ass low, his dick flush with the bed. You shake your head fondly and climb over him, your legs on each side of his calves and you reach for his hips, letting your fingers ghost over his skin before pulling them up to rest against yours. Steve whines at the feeling of your cock between his ass, he wants to pull away but your hands convince him to stay put. Your thumb is rubbing back and forth, soothing him as you lean forward to whisper in his ear. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,” He shivers and you pull away to reach over to your nightstand, grabbing his lube and squirting a generous amount into your hand before returning to your previous spot.
“Okay. I’m pretty sure I have to stretch you out first. Is that okay?” He whines, sounding a bit upset and his hips wiggle so subtly you almost don’t catch it. You rest your un-lubricated hand on his lower back, stilling his movements. “How- Is that gonna take long?” You’re a bit confused by his question, silent as you figure out your answer. He turns to look at you over his shoulder, ensuring that you heard him and then he sees your confused expression. “I really want it.”
His voice dissolves into a whine and you almost forgo it, almost convincing yourself that he doesn’t need prep- but the fear of tearing his pink little hole stops you. “It’ll just take a minute.” You spit the words at him, growing just as desperate as he is as your finger plunges into his hole, a bit faster than you probably should’ve but earning you a shouting moan from his pretty lips.
“Don’t wanna hurt your little hole, baby.” You tell him just to add insult to injury. He’s whimpering your name against the sheets, his eyes shut tight as he squeezes around your finger and you see his cock jump. You push in another finger and he takes it like a champ, begging for a third long before you planned.
Once you’re done stretching him his entire body is hot and shaking, his cock leaking onto the sheets but he’s still unsatisfied. You line your cock up with his entrance and smile at the instant whimper it gets from Steve. You’re watching the way the silicone dick presses into his hole, the way he’s pushing back on it and this strapon must've figured out a way to connect to your nervous system because you swear you can feel his heat on it. You’re confused and entranced by how it looks, how it feels, and how he sounds. “M’gonna fuck you now, Stevie.” His dick twitches as he groans at your words and his hips press back onto your dick, teasing you with his warmth and friction. “Oh fuck. Please.”
You work your tip into him and a little nub at the bottom of the strap pushes into your clit, only furthering your fantasies of being able to feel real pleasure from his ass. You moan with him as you slide in. You prepped him well enough that you’re able to get half your dick in before he’s whining at you to slow down. You rest your front on his back and he can feel your boobs squishing into him, making the whole experience that more arousing. “You feel so good, love.”
You moan into his ear, low and sultry to fuck him up even further. He moans your name, eyes shooting open and his hips rock him back, forcing the rest of your cock into him and accidentally ramming you right into his prostate. “FU-” His curse is cut off with a breathless gasp and he collapses onto the bed. His arms are covering his obviously red face and he’s letting out shouting groans into the mattress as you grind yourself into that spot again and again. You never pull out very far, too scared that you’ll lose his special button.
His thighs are already shaking against yours and it twinges arousal in your stomach. You bottom out inside Steve and grind yourself into the base, moaning his name and riling him up. He can’t fathom why you’re moaning, he knows you can’t feel him but you’re moaning like he’s fucking you, and it’s fucking him up. His hips swivel back onto your dick, trying to get as much stimulation as he can. It’s like nothing he’s ever experienced, it feels like you’re everywhere, and he feels so full. The thought sparks a memory of you telling him the same thing and his balls tense at the role reversal. The fact that it's now you fucking him, filling him to the brim, moaning at how tight he is.
He cries out your name and you watch his hand uncurl from the sheets in favor of sliding between his legs. You pull out and start fucking him as quickly as you can, surprised at how much it actually exerts but the sore muscles are worth it to hear the way his moans increase. He becomes frantic and pathetic, with high whines of “So good, love it s’much. Love you s’much.” begin to litter his incoherent moans and you know he’s getting close. You watch his hole squeeze you more frequently the closer he gets and you wrap your hand around his waist. You smack his hand away from his dick and rest your entire body over him as you wrap your hand around him- causing him to collapse entirely as he moans your name. You’re jostled as he crashes to the bed but you keep up your pace as best you can.
It’s a struggle to jerk him off against the mattress but his moans tell you that he doesn’t mind in the slightest. You’re able to fuck into him more easily from this angle and it shows, your pace is doubled and he’s basically screaming a loose frame of your name. The back of his neck is burning red and his moans are climbing, warning you of his impending orgasm. You smile, proud of yourself and him, and lean down to kiss the back of his neck, snapping his last straw.
He shouts into the mattress, it’s barely a moan, closer to a sob or a scream as his cock throbs painfully. He’s spilling against the mattress, completely soaking the sheets with his cum as his body shakes against you. Your hand is slick on him, now flooded with his cum as he stutters into you, trying to fuck himself into your fist while fucking himself onto your cock. You thrust into him slowly, cooing into and kissing his ears as he comes down slowly. He twitches into you occasionally, gradually becoming overly sensitive to your movements but every time you stop he presses his hips up from the bed, forcing you to thrust into him again. So you stop stopping.
You grind into him slowly, listening to the little mewls he lets out when you land close to his prostate. It’s like you’re massaging his insides, stroking along his soft, sensitive walls and eventually he falls asleep that way, leaving you with the struggle of flipping him over to clean him up but you don’t mind in the slightest.
Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader smut#stranger things smut#kinktober#luvrxkinktober#kinktober smut#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington blurb#kinktober 2023
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thinking of perv!bf james who begs you to let him take dirty polaroids of you for when you’re apart. cause how else is he meant to get off without an image of his cum on your pretty tits or you choking on his cock? definitely keeps them in his wallet for easy access too
perfect timing, i just came back from work and all i could think about as i was making people’s drinks was perv ! james…
i am positively going insane at the thought of this. i referenced james asking for photos of you in my james bf headcanons, but i totally forgot to mention all the nudes he would beg for during summer vacation.（；＿；）♡
dating you has gotten him sex addicted and he can only spend so long merely imagining your face and body :( he has such a tough time cumming without you and he hates not having you there or being forced to resort to masturbating because it only further reminds him of his loneliness.
but, the photo-system you guys developed assures him that he’s the only one that gets to have personalized photos of you in his hands that are attached along with every love letter you send him. it also eases his loneliness and makes spending time apart easier for the both of you.
right before school ends, you suggest taking photos of the two of you for when the summer holiday begins and you both are separated by the barrier that is vacations and dependent families.
james practically loses his mind at the thought of this and he makes it his mission to take photos of you from his favourite angles and sights: taking you from behind (he begs you to turn your face to look at him so that it appears in the photo), your cum-covered face and tits, your legs spread with cum dripping out of your abused cunt, you choking on his cock, and your naked, spent body sprawled across his bed, fucked out after a particularly rough session.
some photos are downright filthy (every photo with the cum) which are the ones that he jerks off to the most, whereas others are taken with an artistic eye, aesthetically pleasing enough for him to put in his wallet or on the corner of his bedroom mirror.
the photo of you in his wallet would be something pretty and taken with purpose. it would either be your cum covered, smiling face (so that anyone who takes a glance at his wallet would assume it’s simply an innocent photo of his girlfriend), or, as we know, james loves the risk, a photo of your bruised and bitten tits, littered with hickeys and love bites.
god, when james finally reaches home from hogwarts, he immediately locks himself in his room to pull out the envelope of polaroids he’s taken over the year, eagerly searching through the photos he had taken of you. james is such a little pervert that his cock was already beginning to throb at the mere thought of jerking off to those photos of you.
even though you knew that he had these photos intended for his own personal, depraved purposes, something about pulling out his cock out from his slacks and slowly stroking himself to your pretty, candid, unknowing face—occasionally slapping his cock gently on the laminated paper—was so filthy and lewd to him.
of course, the picture deal has to be mutual and he’s more than happy to send you nude photos of him. one of the photos would be his hard, leaking cock tributing to the cum-covered photo of you smiling. looking at the photo and realizing how creepy and perverted it comes across only made the ache in his cock worse. he’d graze his length against his pillow, groaning to himself, making a silent prayer that all of this is enough to relieve the constant need in him and his craving for your cunt.
‘’m so fuckin’ sick,’ he’d sigh, grinning wolfishly.
i also have a sick feeling that not only james, but the rest of the marauders favourite photos to jerk themselves off to are the innocent ones in which you’re smiling happily into the camera, showing off your pretty sundress. of course, nothing beats the lewd photos of you, but they find themselves cumming harder at the unsuspecting photos, imagining your cute, smiling face in front of them, eagerly waiting to be covered and marked by their cum. something about tainting and subsequently corrupting the innocence and purity that the casual photos reveal drives them mad.
‘gonna fuckin’ ruin you the next time i see you—fuck,’
#james potter x y/n#james potter hc#james potter headcanon#james potter imagine#james potter x reader#james potter blurb#james potter smut#james potter x you#james potter fluff#james potter#harry potter smut#harry potter x reader#harry potter imagine#harry potter x y/n#harry potter x you#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter blurb#harry potter fluff#harry potter fic#harry potter#james potter fanfiction
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So I recently learned Harvey and Jason's dad had BEEF and Harvey killed him apparently??? Okay. So. I propose we all imagine this:
You're Jason Todd. You're 4 years old.
You know, because the only reading material you have is your birth certificate. A copy of it, wilted by dry ink. You're always hungry. You get food sometimes, but no hugs, no kisses, no soft words. You're still hungry.
Your father only touches you with his belt or shoe or anything else he can grab and a small crumble of you welcomes it because it's better than nothing.
You're Jason todd, age 4, and you haven't seen your mother get up from the tub for 3 weeks. You try to shake her and wake her up but nothing worse. Your father takes his shower and doesn't care.
You're Jason Todd and you hear a voice -- gruff and thick but smooth and raspy, " Jesus fuckin' christ, Todd."
" I'm tellin' you I don't got the money. It ain't my fault that whore of yours left you and you're In a bad mood--"
You're Jason todd, hiding in a closet, when you hear the terryfing sound of your father being quiet for once. For once, he doesn't yell. For once, there's peace in your house. Gun smoke and all.
You're Jason Todd, age 4, when you meet Two Face. He's scary. He says he's gonna take you somewhere, and for you that's a Boogeyman's promise, so you trash and you scream and you yell, and he just holds you tight.
You hold back; He's big and warm and could crush you in paste, but he doesn't. He just rocks you and shushes you and promises he'll take you somewhere you'll like. He doesn't tell you to stop crying.
You do anyway, because you're 4, and you're tired, and you haven't had your nap all day because you were doing chores.
You're Jason Todd and you meet Bruce Wayne at 3 o clock in the morning.
He's tired; those dark clouds under his eyes indicate he hasn't slept, there's a hollowness to his sharp cheekbones, and he looks nothing like does on TV.
He doesn't look dazzling, or glamours, or dashing. He looks like someone whose adopted baby got taken back by their neglectful, dog shit parents, and he's never been more devoured by misery than then.
" harv..."
" thought you might know what to do with him," harvey shrugs, still keeping a tight hold on you, like he might lose you too, and you tremble and cry when you're moved away.
You don't make noise, thought. Making noise always gets you in bigger trouble. Bruce Wayne holds you like you're the most precious thing in the whole wide world.
He holds you're made of love and light and all things right.
And you still cry in his arms, because you just want your mommy, and you want to nap, and you want to read and you want to be kissed and hugged and cuddled you want everything you never got.
" Oh, Jason. Oh, sweetheart. "
You're Jason Todd, age 5, because today's your birthday. You spend the first 10 minutes of it sleeping gentle and teary in Bruce's arms, while another pair holds you both.
You're Jason Todd, and you might be the reason Bruce Wayne and Harvey Dent start talking again.
#the rehomed baby is tim!! jack and janet.....count your blessings#jason todd#harvey dent#bruharvey#bruce wayne#twobats#dc#dc comics#text#text post#alternative universe#angst#fluff#sea glass and christmas lights au
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rickyl x reader but with rare jealous!daryl
daryl shouldn’t be seething at the sight of rick’s head in your lap.
there’s no reason at all he should be thinkin’ about skinning his best friend. it’s jealousy at its finest.
he can hear merle now, taunting him. he wonders if his brother would call him a “fuckin’ pansy” or a “pussy” first. fuming inwardly all by himself on his recliner. the piece of furniture begins to feel like an island. it’s even worse imagining he’s just watching you and rick.
once upon a time, daryl got a kick out of seeing you get those pretty, big brain thoughts fucked out of your head for just a moment while rick splits you open. there’s something in seein’ you all fucked out, thinking about fueling the fire between your legs only. the legs that daryl often threw over his shoulders, diving tongue first in your paradisal cunt. that would be before rick rolled his way in and insisted he be the first to stuff your tight, yearn slick pussy.
merle would rag on him for that.
“aw, poor cucked, fuck,” he’d try to stifle his laugh but end up roaring in laughter.
daryl does the same thing he did when his brother was alive and ignores the thought. the thought of you can’t be banished from his head though.
no, not when you’re running your hands through rick’s hair and looking down at him, lips moving in sweet muted conversation that daryl is too green to comprehend. he’s feeling selfish now and wishing you two could go somewhere alone.
moments alone with you hit different now. they’re rare but they exist.
like after he and rick spend the better half of the night taking you apart from the inside out, and you and him sneak out to the porch for a cigarette once rick’s fallen asleep.
sometimes daryl thinks rick sleeps worse than judith - the sheriff is basically an insomniac without you. you’re the miracle cure for the horror induced nightmares. it’s like a good spooning with you clears his head, but daryl can’t really fault rick for that. he does however absolutely loathe the sixth sense the constable has for when you’ve strayed away from his arms in the night.
the man’s head is swimming at the thought of you in his arms when there’s a knock at the door.
your glinting eyes are rolling but you’re calling out for your guest to, “come in!” rick’s scowl couldn’t be larger but he fixes his face once maggie comes into view.
maggie looks between you and rick, even sparing a glance at daryl before attempting to stifle a laugh and clearing her throat. “i’m sorry to interrupt, but deanna needs you at her house to discuss important matters.”
you feel rick tense beneath you. barely able to contain your own pouts, you gaze back up at rick and he takes that as his signal to connect your lips one last time. shining under the living room ceiling lights, the two of you mash wantonly wetted lips. lost in each other, you don’t feel the pissed off red rock across the room.
finally breaking apart, you whine and rick almost scolds you, wondering if you have any respect for maggie’s image of you. when he glimpses over your shoulder and catches sight of maggie’s grin, he’s smirking. daryl wants to go out into the woods and shoot something.
“well, duty calls.”
rick’s rolling you off of him, leaving you with another breathless kiss and nodding daryl’s way.
daryl struggles to maintain a cordial face. this doesn’t go unnoticed by rick, who would’ve asked what was up with his typically mellow friend had he more time. the younger man’s more than relieved to see rick and maggie meandering out the door.
“dare’.”
damn, he almost forgot about you.
blue irises meet your dilated centers. the darkened, passion cast pupils beckon him to resume where rick had left off. a hand pats the patterned sofa.
that stirs him from his moodiness - slightly.
you’re assuming your position in his lap once his ass hits the cushion. hands gently wring around his neck until you’re sat firmly on top of him, gaze unmistakable.
“what’s goin’ on with you?”
startled, his breath hitches in his throat. his adam’s apple throbbing uncomfortably peaks your attention. you frown at him until his pink lips move slowly.;
“i feel like i haven’t even seen you lately, baby. and we live in the same fuckin’ house.”
your face falls at the words. “really?” you ask, wanting him to go on. the distraught look painting your typically sunny face has him not wanting to, but he does because you asked.
“you’re always on him, he’s on you. you touch me too and i know you love me. i know you like goin’ out in the woods with me but you feel so fuckin’ far away when you’re right there.”
“i’m so sorry, dare’.”
he’s quick to stop you. “it’s not your fault, baby, it’s not rick’s either-,”
“-no!” you interject, grinding down onto him by accident, eliciting a groan from him which you quickly apologize for.
daryl slaps your fleece covered ass lightly. “don’t apologize for being fuckin’ hot, baby.”
you giggle, leaning down to kiss him. he’s slowly but surely fading into this fairytale kiss you’re bestowing upon him until he hears another apology on your lips.
“baby, it’s okay.”
“no, it’s not.” you’re almost in tears now. puffy lips quake and purse. “you should never feel that way.”
“it’s fine, hon’, i feel better just telling you, an’ gettin’ it off my chest.” he assures you, playing with the top of your fleece shorts.
your eyes trail down to the drawstring of your shorts, and you wipe away a tear, revealing a yearning smile.
“would this help?”
daryl suddenly rolls into you, pelvis pistoning against the pillowy fabric of your shorts. he shrugs. “i don’t know.” he grunts. “maybe.”
you laugh. angling your hips, you dial up the pressure you’re coasting against beneath you when you come closer. daryl straightens to meet you for a kiss, succumbing to you, immersed until you whisper against him, “c’mon, i wanna feel you inside of me.”
daryl raises an eyebrow. “baby, i haven’t stretched you out.”
you shake your head, laughing. “you and rick already took care of that last night. you could stop fucking me for three days and as long as i’m wet-,” you get a blushed out look on your face. “-which isn’t hard around here.”
your lover’s face turns cocky. “you like being ready after being stretched out by two cocks?” pride laces his question. rick could irk him but he did love sharing you with his best friend more than anything.
that pretty little head nods up and down like it’s obvious.
“you gonna take me out and sit on me, baby?”
you’re nodding even more obediently now. falling into the instructions that have your pretty little clit swelling beneath your bottoms. that sends your hands racing to tug down daryl’s jeans, circling your hips as well to quickly spare a hand and work down your shorts. the sight has daryl straining.
“don’t make me wait, you know i can’t,” he complains with a kiss to your neck.
“mhmm,” you hum in agreement and tug down the waistband of his underwear, allowing him to help you with your peach pantone panties.
you involuntarily lick your lips upon seeing his gorgeous cock. the gigantic head primarily has your attention. has it always looked this big? you wonder. you want to take it into your mouth but the urge to give daryl that comfort he deserves has you hovering your already slick pussy above his hardened cock.
all at once, you let your hips descend and the first inch or so of daryl disappears inside of you.
“damn, girl.” the sensation has him crooning and singing your praise as you waste no time rocking up and down to develop that sloppy wetness on him - like you’re greasin’ a fuckin’ pole.
“mhm,” you whine. daryl’s awestruck face, scrunched from how tight you are despite your words, suddenly clears any stress or unease. he’s loving this, you remind yourself. an idea fills your head and before you know it, your begging for a hickey.
“huh?”
“a hickey!” you groan, bouncing with your hands firmly on his chest.
“then c’mere, baby,” and daryl’s clutching you down towards him as soon as you lean in. “i’ll mark you up however you want.” those thoughtful lips imprint into your skin immediately.
you gasp and wriggle against his loving mouth. he feels so wonderful, playfully bruising you with light scrapes of teeth and a roving tongue so well that your thought almost gets fucked out of you.
“want you to mark me up for when rick gets home,” you tell him, panting and squirming with pleasure on top of him.
length brushing against your walls which are flush against him like quicksand, those words are dangerous. he does his best not to fuckin’ jackhammer you to oblivion just at the thought of rick comin’ home to you all purple from daryl’s mouth - the mouth that was already obsessed with your pretty girl clit and taking a vacation between your legs.
“yes, whatever you want, baby.”
“ah!”
you’re not ready for the bite that isn’t as light as you’d expected.
“so tight on me.” daryl chuckles, suckling on the sensitive skin. “felt you clenchin’ like you’re ready, baby girl.”
“does my pussy feel good? squeezin’ you?” you ask, eyelashes fluttering.
daryl almost finished in you right then and there.
“course it does.” he replies without missing a beat. “what kind of question is that?”
the answer and the pace daryl is adopting has you seeing stars. heat is what you plunge into as you slide up and down on daryl. he’s dragging you up and down against him, hands burying fingernail marks in your soft hips while he fucks up into you and worships your shoulder.
the bite to your shoulder is what sends you tumbling into the tirade of pleasure that’s your orgasm.
on the living room sofa, you gasp and cry, tears falling into daryl’s hair as he takes a tit into his mouth, biting down. it’s a soft graze of cautious teeth but you yelp, startled by the pleasure and the spurting of warm come in your tight little cunt.
foreheads bowed against each other’s, you both find a rhythm in your breath - and each other’s lips again.
it’s when you and your lover are unsurprisingly making out again, once you take just a moment to breathe and pull apart, the question’s blurting from your lips;
“you know i love both of you, right?”
daryl softens beneath you. the hands on your waist rub languid, lazy patterns as daryl nods at you. “i do, baby.”
the twinge of a smile is on your lips until you’re suddenly remembering how you got to asking that question and straddling your dare’ like this in the first place. “but you shouldn’t feel that way.”
daryl’s shaking his head, ready to tell you that it’s fine, he’s fine but then you’re saying;
“how could i ever make it up to you, dare?’”
a million possibilities filter through his mind at once. there really isn’t an apology he won’t accept from you.
“how about a hunting trip? just the two of us.”
“i love your mind, baby.” he grunts, bucking up into you with that seemingly impatient, girthy rod.
you giggle in triumph, letting a pretty grin overtake your face. “alright now, back to where we were, huh?” you bear down to capture daryl’s mouth in a kiss, tonguing your way inside for just a brief moment before parting lips. “rick will be back from watch in an hour. how many hickies do you think you can give me before then?”
#the walking dead#rick grimes#daryl dixon#twd smut#andrew lincoln#norman reedus#rickyl#twd#twd imagine#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes imagine#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon smut#twd rick#not beta read#reader has rick rabies#and loves her daryl too#getting the hang of daryl’s internal monologue#p in v sex#reader is down bad for both of them as per usual#ditzy thought fr#hot idea anon!!#late night tumblr#ghost of merle#not exactly what was requested but more rickyl + jealousy including more rick will be coming#the people speak#grimesgirll
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