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psychedelic-ink · 8 months

Text

𝐂𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘.

DAY SIX OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: slasher au (still takes place in the tlou'verse) + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, soft dark fic, horror, murder mystery

summary: bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in jackson. as the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.

word count: 10k (i don't know what happened)

warnings: dubcon at the end, knife kink, descriptive canon typical violence, blood & mild gore, grief and death, an unpleasant guy hitting on you, murder, face-sitting, throat-fucking, mutual oral sex (69), dirty talk, possessive!joel, exhibitionism (tommy watches very briefly, he also kisses you in a platonic way), sex in the woods, piv, Joel is actually quite nice if you exclude the murders, mild breeding kink, size kink, little bit of blood kink

a/n: the owl mask joel wears in this to hide who he is is inspired by @softlyspector's post about the tawny owl mug joel uses in tlou part 2 which I still get sad if I think about it for too long 😭

Bodies have been dropping dead all around you long before the outbreak.

Maybe not in the everyone-you-know-is-getting-infected-and-killing-people type of way, but more so in a death-never-felt-like-a-stranger-to-you sort of way. Yet, you still don’t know how to deal with death. Your grief is as violent as a butterfly flapping its wings; the strength of it non-existent but you never know where, or when, it’ll cause a storm.

First, it was your grade school teacher. You didn’t have a particularly strong bond with her but you did like her. You still remember how your friend's voice quaked as she gave you the news on a landline. You couldn’t believe it and had to accuse her of making a joke, even though you knew she would never joke about something like this. Then your dad took the phone from you and you just assumed your friend's mom did the same. The next week, when you went back to school and the funeral was now behind all the children in the classroom, the custodian cut the last tablecloth your teacher had used for her desk and gave a piece to each and every one of you. It was a vibrant orange cloth with daisies scattered around – ugly, but you still cherished it.

Then it was your pets, grandparents – there was also the time when your pet-crazed neighbor adopted another smaller dog while she still had two untrained, over-energized dogs, and the two twins ripped the other dog apart. You had seen the carnage. By some miracle, that small, fluffy dog named Sugar was still breathing, alive. You had held a blood bag over the dog's head, hoping that the small animal wouldn't die.

She didn’t die that day, but it sure as hell left a scar on you.

As a kid, you never seemed to quite grasp the ways of grieving. You didn’t get angry. You didn’t cry. You just. . thought about it. However, the emotions came differently when you became an adult. Now when someone close to you died, you felt it more violently, oddly enough you still fought against the tears and only cried when you were alone.

On Outbreak Day, you lost everything.

Your family, your friends—your life, now it was all about survival, but survival towards what, you didn’t know. You killed for it, fought for it. Yet every move you made felt automatic like you were wired to at least try and survive — to wait it out and not be left behind when civilization rebuilt itself once more.

You made some friends along the way and lost some friends too. You locked their faces and their memories in your heart, only unlocking the box when you were truly and utterly alone.

Then you found Jackson.

And you met Joel and Tommy Miller.

Your official title is scavenger but you much prefer to label yourself as an explorer instead.

You’ve adapted to your quite well life at Jackson. You go beyond the borders, sometimes alone and sometimes with other fellow explorers, and gather supplies or try to pinpoint other locations threats might be lurking in. You’re about to go on another trip, this one shorter than your regular one to two-week expeditions, but before heading out you decide to stop by the only bakery in Jackson named The Last Crumb—previously named The Cordyceps Crumb but Maria decided it was in bad taste. You, on the other hand, had found it funny and topical.

As you patiently wait in line, your camping bag waiting for you outside the bakery, someone bumps into you from behind, then never moves back.

You turn with a raised eyebrow, not enjoying the close proximity, “Excuse you,” you snap. The man looks at you with a hint of mischief in his eyes, you roll your eyes when you recognize the face. “Move back a beat Tucker, I’m not in the mood this morning.”

“Someone didn’t get her beauty sleep,” he grins but moves away regardless. “Want me to come with you this time? Sweet thing like you alone out there? It’s ain’t right.”

“You can barely aim. Why would I want someone that’s most likely to get me killed around me?”

“I think you’ll find my company to be plenty entertaining.”

You’re about to gag when the bell of the bakery chimes, the sharp sound echoing through the wooden walls. Your face must've shown immense signs of relief because Tucker turns around to see who you're looking at. His instant frown makes you want to laugh and chuck him between the two men you’d describe as a wolf den.

“Well, if it ain’t the Miller brothers,” Tucker tuts, attempting to give one of them a friendly pat on the shoulder. He stops midway when Joel’s gaze flits between you and him, his glare hard enough to cut diamonds.

So he ends up slapping Tommy’s shoulder instead, which isn’t the best thing since you know the younger Miller hates Tucker. But among the brothers, he’s probably the one with less probability of getting your hand bitten off.

“Mornin’ Tucker,” Tommy answers, forcing a smile.

Joel is less friendly, his words directed at you, “Is this dumbass botherin’ you again?”

“I wouldn't exactly call a greeting among friends “botherin’,” Tucker says. “We’re just catchin’ up, no need to get your panties in a bunch Miller.”

“God, you’re one word away from ruining my morning,” you hiss, glaring at the unpleasant man. “And we’re not friends.”

His brows furrow, eyes going hard with an ugly snarl accompanying them, you feel braver when Tommy and Joel are around so you hold his gaze, not flinching away.

Tommy is the one to ease the tension. He lays a hand on Tucker’s shoulder and squeezes, drawing the man’s attention away from you. “I’ll get you what you want a’right Tucker? It’s on me. Just go wait outside.”

“But—”

“Outside, Tuck,” Tommy repeats and you shudder at his tone.

Tucker’s shoulders drop, defeated, “Fine, get me a raisin bagel.”

He doesn’t wait for Tommy’s response and heads out the bakery. You finally release the breath you’ve been holding, your muscles relaxing along with the exhaled breath. Joel is by your side in the blink of an eye, his broad shoulder brushing yours providing comfort.

“You sure you’re a’right?” he asks, gently curling fingers under your chin. “The prick didn’t do anythin’?”

“Nah, nothing. He’s all bark but no bite. He asked if he wanted to join me today as if that buffoon wouldn’t get me killed.” you shrug, men being assholes was nothing new to you. You’re just glad that in Jackson it seems that there are more good apples than rotten ones. “Too bad even paradise comes with drawbacks.”

Joel snorts as Tommy cuts in, “Maria would be thrilled if she heard you calling it paradise.”

“What are you smiling at? You think you can find anywhere better?” You playfully nudge Joel with your elbow. “You know there’s nothing but hell out there.”

“I do, I just think callin’ here a paradise is a bit of a stretch is all.”

The line moves and the three of you are finally at the counter, “You’re just a grump,” you tease Joel before turning your gaze to Poppy, the barista who knows everything about everyone. “Hey there, Poppy, the usual please.”

“And a damn raisin bagel,” Tommy adds.

“Well, isn’t it my favorite trio,” Poppy grins. “I’ll get all that ready for you in a second,” she locks her blue eyes on you and leans closer, you mimic her by instinct. “By the way have you heard of Ian? He wound up dead right outside the chopping block, an axe right through his chest.”

You frown, “Good morning to you too, Poppy. Jesus Christ.”

“I’ll confess I didn’t love the guy but isn’t it worrying that there’s a killer among us?” she murmurs while stuffing the goodies in paper bags. “Be careful out there.”

“Well, if the culprit is here I think I might be safer out there,” you say and turn to Tommy. “Does Maria know?”

“Of course, she does,” when you part your lips to say more, he lifts a finger and shoots you a crooked smile. “It’s confidential.”

“Aw man, can’t you just tell us who she thinks it is?” Poppy asks, Tommy shakes his head and she lets out a dramatic sigh, “I miss my murder mystery books.”

“I’ll try to find you something while I’m out,” you say, ignoring the way your heart began to race. Jackson is still a small town, it’s jarring to think someone might be out there, looking for their next target. “Though I think we could all do with a little less murder.”

You hadn’t expected your voice to crack but your tone had betrayed you. Poppy extends you the bag of goods and a latte, as you reach out you feel Joel’s hand on your waist. His lips touch your ear. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m sure whoever it is is only goin’ after those who deserve it.”

You lock your eyes with him, blinking heavily at the weight of his words. His voice had dropped, nothing but gravel as he whispered the words into your ear. A cold sensation slithers down your spine, chilling you to your core and making your throat tighten.

His hand never leaves your waist as the three of you head out, and after a while, that chill slowly dissolves into a pleasurable warmth.

You find solace in the woods. You love Jackson, but being in the woods away from everyone and everything makes you feel comforted. The first time you went scavenging, there was a slight fear in your movements; no matter how good your aim was, any kind of infected was difficult to kill.

But now you walk with ease. There isn’t an ounce of worry in your bones. The trees rustle happily and the smell of flowers and pine fills your nostrils. You can feel your lungs rejuvenating with every breath. Trickles of orange sunlight pour from the gaps of the trees. The sun sets, meaning you need to set up camp soon.

While unpacking, you think of this morning. How Joel and Tommy stepped in when Tucker started bothering you. Honestly, you didn’t need their protection; Tucker is just one of those men who think they might have a shot if they bother you enough times. Still, it was nice to be claimed in a way, to be accepted into a family and cared for.

Your breath hitches slightly. Tommy, you see as a close friend, a brother perhaps, but Joel... Joel is another thing. Just thinking about him is enough to start a wildfire between your legs. You wish you were brave enough to do something about it, though. Whenever you two patrol together or stay awake late at night drinking, you always chicken out in the end. It doesn’t matter how his hands linger on your thighs or his eyes drop to your lips; you're just never convinced that the Joel Miller would be interested in you beyond a friend.

An unease starts to settle in the pit of your stomach. As the air grows colder with the approaching night, your skin prickles and you feel the phantom sensation of claws dragging down your back. You set the tent as quickly as you can, your eyes darting around the depths of the forest. Briefly, you bend over to adjust the ropes.

A breath warm and damp ghosts the back of your neck and you jump, gun in hand as you turn around only to find—

Nothing.

And no one.

Your heart is hammering in your chest, adrenaline pumping in your veins, a drop of sweat trickling down your forehead. You've never had a trigger finger, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to just shoot every shadow you see.

“Dammit Poppy,” you mutter, annoyed that she gave you the brutal knowledge of Ian’s death right before you were heading out. Guilt stings at your heart. Ian was an asshole for sure, and you don’t exactly feel bad that he’s gone, but still, it was an eerie thought that someone had murdered him so violently. It had to be personal.

Some part of you wishes Joel was here, or even Tucker, just another human being to tell you you’re just seeing things.

You take a deep inhale and follow it up with a long exhale. You’re fine. There’s no one here.

You give your surroundings one last suspicious look before going back to setting the tent.

No matter how hard you try you can’t shake the feeling of someone watching you amongst the shadows.

Joel hears crickets and owls. The night had always been his friend since the outbreak. He had become a violent man with an equally violent heart. He waits in the shadows, watching. Laughter and playful shouts echo from the bar, and soon the door swings open; the man he's been waiting for crawls out of the establishment, shit-faced. The drunk man shouts his farewells and staggers toward his home.

Joel follows, his mask heating up the skin that lays underneath. His fingers itch with the need to wring that asshole's neck. One by one, he had been cleaning Jackson for the better. His tendencies subdued while also doing some good. Ian was one of those people who deserved it and Joel had enjoyed the chase, the pleas, he especially enjoyed the way he tripped and cried right before he sunk the blade of the axe through Ian’s chest.

Tucker trips, making Joel want to laugh. The idiot might not even realize he’s being hunted. Joel looks around, they are far enough for the chase to begin. Tucker continues to slip and fall as he attempts to get up. Taking the opportunity, Joel walks towards him with quick steps, making sure the first thing the asshole sees is his mask.

Tucker notices him before he gets up, his hands bracing the ground, his eyes go wide, “What the fuck?”

Joel only tilts his head. He sees the trembles rolling down the other man’s body, he relishes in his fear.

“Look man, I don’t want any trouble, whoever the fuck you are so. . . scram.”

Joel’s eyes dart to his hand on the dirt, without a second thought he lifts his foot and curb stomps Tucker’s hand. Then he kicks the side of his face, an audible crunch echoing before his scream could. The man whimpers and falls back in his attempt to crawl away. He holds his jaw, blood streaming down his broken nose.

“Who the fuck are you?!”

He steps closer and watches as Tucker’s eyes bug out. He’s too drunk to properly run away or even scream. Such an easy target. He grips the other’s hair and lifts him to his feet, he can feel the strands starting to rip from his scalp one by one, Tucker’s face twisting in pain. “Your worst fuckin’ nightmare,” Joel answers eerily calm. It doesn’t matter if Tucker recognizes him. He’d be dead soon enough anyway.

“P-Please,” he begs, realizing the same thing. “I’ll do whatever you want promise. I don’t want to die.”

Joel grunts, not dignifying his pleas with an answer. Lifting his other hand, his knuckles connect to Tucker’s face with a loud crunch, body flying to the ground headfirst.

He pulls out his knife and drops down, ignoring the ache in his knees, he grabs Tucker’s arm and aligns the sharp blade against his wrist. Tucker notices, his face going pale as a ghost. “D-Don’t—”

Joel doesn’t bat an eye as blood spurts violently over his clothes and the dirt. Drops of crimson seeping into the fabric. The knife cuts through the flesh like butter, severing hand from bone. His hand clamps over Tucker’s mouth. Joel smiles as his screams bounce off of the palm of his hand.

You come back to Jackson hand empty and earlier than intended. You were too much at unease, and being so jarred wasn’t the best while scavenging for supplies alone. During your trip, you did end up scribbling something for Poppy. It wasn’t finished but you hoped she would enjoy the first draft of the first chapter. It was mostly descriptions of what you felt, a cat-and-mouse game between two people who had bumped into each other accidentally.

While heading into Jackson, you notice a crowd in the distance. You promptly get off your horse and walk with haste. You recognize Joel and Tommy easily, both brothers standing on each end of the crowd like gates keeping a herd of sheep in check. Ellie is standing right next to Joel, lifting herself on her toes to see; Joel is holding her back by gripping the cap of her hood.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

Joel turns to you, his eyebrows raising when notices it’s you and not some random person he has to ignore, “You’re back,” he says. A statement rather than a question.

“Yeah, wasn’t feeling that well,” you shrug him off. “So what happened?”

His eyes turn to steel, his jaw locking in place. Before you can ask again, he gestures for you to move up the crowd with a tilt of his head.

“Lucky,” you hear Ellie murmur as you walk ahead, gently pushing those who were looking at the sight with concern. With every step you take, the murmur of the crowd fades into the background, becoming nothing more than white noise. Maria is addressing the crowd, you think, though you're not entirely sure. The scent of blood is thick in the air, disorienting you as you get closer.

Your eyes go wide, the earth slips from beneath you but your expression remains emotionless.

It’s Tucker.

You feel as if you’re standing alone. As if you’re the only one taking in the sight of absolute horror and gore. Tucker is lying in a pile of his own blood face first, his eyes are open and lifeless, his one hand is outstretched like he’s about to crawl away.

His right hand, however, is chopped off.

It’s not even a clean-cut. The edges of his flesh are jagged and crooked, his blood-caked where his hand should be. Whoever did this cut it so it would hurt, so he would suffer tremendously.

You can’t help but gasp, covering your mouth with your right hand. You begin to shake, confusion churning in your stomach as bile coats your tongue. He’s dead. Just like Ian.

When Maria’s eyes find your own, she narrows her gaze, a small warning for you to keep it together. You can’t though. How could you? Tucker was alive and kicking a couple of days ago, just being his annoying self around Jackson.

“Calm down,” you hear Joel mutter into your ear. You shiver at the brush of his lips. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

Safe. You want to laugh. You don’t even know what that word means anymore.

Joel’s mouth moves over the shell of your ear, “He was a nuisance. Don’t feel bad now that he’s dead.”

“I didn’t want him to die,” you hiss back. “And knowing there’s a serial killer out there doesn’t exactly make me feel safe.”

Despite your half-angry tone, you find yourself leaning into Joel’s presence. Your shoulder presses into his broad chest, and without missing a beat he wraps his arms around your shaking frame. Relief comes in the form of warmth spreading along your chest, tingles forming at the tips of your fingers and toes. The voices of the crowd gradually come back but you only hear one of the many questions.

“What do you think the message means?”

Confusion crosses your face, brows furrowing as you try to make sense of it. Joel makes a choked-out sound that could’ve easily been taken as an amused chuckle.

Then your eyes drop to Tucker’s outstretched hand and his dying message written in blood.

O W L

A week had passed since Tucker’s death.

You've been thinking about both murders relentlessly, trying to piece together everything that you know so far. During this time, you're grateful for Poppy, who comes by almost every night to help you try to solve the case. That's been your sole focus for the past few weeks; you haven't been scavenging since you spooked yourself so badly that you returned early, only to find Tucker dead.

Some part of you thinks that the eeriness you felt that day was a sign of what was about to happen. It's also an odd coincidence that he ended up dead the same night he harassed you in the morning. However, there are no forensic investigators in Jackson, so it’s almost impossible to determine the exact time of death. That fact alone makes you anxious. It only means that whoever is killing everyone has nothing to worry about because even if they leave traces, who’s going to know?

In order to keep your nerves in check you end up writing a lot. You haven’t shown any of it to Poppy yet but you’re excited. You never thought writing a thriller would be the perfect way to escape the horrors of your actual life. At least in your stories, you have control.

You also visit Joel and vice versa.

Something had shifted the day he held you as you both gazed upon Tucker’s lifeless body. Maybe it was just you who felt bolder since death was once again right around the corner — or maybe Joel just felt more protective now, wanting to check on you as much as he could.

“You’re really writin’ a whole ass novel?” he asks, pouring you a glass of scotch. You still can’t get over the fact that it nearly tasted identical to the actual stuff. Jackson is truly a miracle; at least when bodies aren’t dropping left and write.

Ellie’s at a sleepover, which means you and Joel have the whole house to yourselves. With everything going on you’d expect your libido to diminish a bit but it’s as strong as ever, ready to go.

You smile as he places the glass in front of you, “Yeah,” you say, picking up the glass and heading toward the living room. “I couldn’t find Poppy anything to read and it helps me relax.”

“Relax, how?” he asks, taking a seat next to you. The couch dips with his weight, and heat crawls up from your chest to your neck when his knee brushes against yours.

“Well, it’s a horror thing. Horror slash mystery? I don’t know—whatever it is, it’s nice to have an outlet to escape what’s been happening lately.”

“So to escape brutal murders you write more brutal murders?”

You chuckle at the way his eyebrows raise, eyes going wide, “I don’t really focus that much on the gore. It’s more psychological, my sweet brute. Things don’t need to have blood to be scary.”

His grin is wide and instant, dark eyes lighting up with amusement, “What did you just call me?”

“I. . .” Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, suddenly realizing what you’d said.

“What cat got your tongue?” he teases. Joel leans closer, fingers dancing along the curve of your shoulder. You can feel the gravel in his voice. “You just called me yours, sweetheart. Does that jog your memory?”

“I also called you brute,” you quip back immediately, cheeks aflame. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Don’t it?” his palm now presses fully into your shoulder, keeping you in place in case you might run. Joel tilts his head slightly, the plush of his lips only an inch away. “I like you callin’ me that,” the pink of his tongue swipes over his bottom lip. “Say it again.”

“S-Say what?”

A small chuckle parts his lips, oddly enough it almost feels like his patience is wearing thin. He comes closer, the tip of his nose brushing yours. “That I’m yours,” he clarifies. “Been waitin’ to hear those words come from your mouth since I met you.”

“You’re mine,” you whisper against his lips, eyelids fluttering but not quite closing. With the confession, you feel the brush of Joel’s lips on yours. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth. You part for him with a moan, and taking the opportunity, he slides inside, tasting every inch of you.

His lips taste and feel like the forests you wander off to; it soothes you, calms your nerves, and has the taste of home. They’re chapped from the sun, yet soft. You can’t have enough of him, if he’d offered, you’d gladly kiss him forever.

Joel parts with a shaky breath, his chest heaving, “And you’re mine,” he groans, his eyes dark with arousal. It’s an involuntary action but your eyes drop to the front of his pants where you see the thick outline of his cock.

Your mouth goes dry, yet you manage to speak anyway, “Are words all you’ve been waiting for?” It’s bold, you’re highly aware, but you can’t help it when he’s this close. His scent suffocating, pulling you to him like a moth to a flame.

He stares at you silently. His thumb touches your bottom lip, slightly tugging it down. He’s not smiling anymore, only observing.

“No,” Joel answers slowly. He leans towards your ears, the thick hairs above his lips tickling your skin. “I’ve also been waitin’ to feel that velvet tongue on my cock, honey. And to feel how tight your throat gets when you take every inch of me.”

Joel blows a puff of air, it caresses your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He brings your hand to the front of his pants, dragging your palm up and down his length. You shudder. The heat of it seeps into your palm despite the thick fabric of his jeans, you lick your lips absentmindedly. “This is all for you sweetheart.”

“Fuck, Joel. . .” your eyes roll back when he kisses your neck, open-mouthed kisses laid upon your skin like a gift. Your nipples tighten and if you look down right now, you know you’ll see them peeking through your shirt.

He reads your thoughts, eyes moving down before meeting your gaze again. “Didn’t know you walked around without a bra, sunshine.”

“I only go braless when I’m comfortable,” you answer. Joel cups your breasts roughly, kneading the flesh, he simultaneously sucks on your neck, teeth nipping the sensitive skin. “Oh god,” the fabric of your panties grows damp and you clench your thighs together.

“Not god,” he says sharply, sinking his teeth into you. “Joel.”

“Joel,” you moan and arch your back, filling more of yourself into his palm. You squeeze his cock, relishing in the way he makes a strangled sound. “I want to suck you off, Joel.”

“Be my guest.”

You push him until he’s lying on the couch. You’re about to unbutton his jeans but he stops you.

“Turn around,” he says.

“What?”

His wide grin nearly stops your heart, “Want to taste that sweet pussy, sunshine. Strip down and take a seat.”

“On—On your face?”

“Where else?”

You’re too embarrassed to speak, tongue suddenly too big in your mouth. Quickly, and a bit clumsily, you strip down and turn before straddling his chest. You don’t need to touch yourself to know that you’re soaked.

You swallow, “I’ve never done this before.”

His hands come up to cradle your hips, urging you to move back towards his face. You feel the blunt sting of his nails.

“That’s alright,” he mutters. “I won’t let you fall if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m more worried about how I’m gonna move, or accidentally suffocating you.”

“What a noble way it would be to go.”

“Joel!” you laugh, playfully smacking his thigh. He answers by giving your hips another squeeze, you surrender and move back until you’re hovering over his face. Your hand planted firmly over his hip bones, you lower yourself. You shudder as his tongue licks a stripe between your folds. He moans into your cunt, pulling you flush against his face.

Meanwhile, you finally unzip his pants and pull his cock out, the heft of it bumping against your nose and lips. You drip at the smell of him and swear he smiles as he sucks on your aching clit, short-circuiting your brain with arousal. His cock throbs in your palm, a drop of precome glistening at the tip. Your mouth watering, you lean forward and clean him off. Another groan echoes within his chest and he thrusts forward, the tip of his cock kissing your lips.

Eyes fluttering closed, you suck on the bulbous head and force yourself to go down until he hits the back of your throat. You wrap a hand around the base, stroking where you can’t fit, and hallow your cheeks.

“Come on, sunshine. You can take me,” he rasps. “You’re mine, aren’t you? That mouth is meant to take me.”

Without waiting for an answer, Joel pushes his tongue inside, your walls clenching around the wet muscle—you let out a loud gasp and grind down, then you feel the sting of his palm against your ass, pain blossoming from where he smacked.

Your throat rattles with a moan and Joel takes the opportunity to drive forward, your eyes go wide as you feel the length of him sliding down your throat, cutting the air from your lungs.

“Oh, fuck—” he moans unabashedly, the sounds sending a pleasurable tingle down your spine despite the strain on your throat. “That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Fuck, fuck—”

Your throat tightens around him, your lungs starting to burn. His hand caresses both sides of your ass, the abrupt pain of the smack from before subduing, “Relax,” he says, swirling his tongue around your clit. “Breathe through your nose. Just a bit more. . .”

Your nails bite into his thighs as you attempt to follow instructions. You relax your throat and slowly begin to breathe from your nose. It’s still difficult, but your lungs rejoice in the minimal amount of air that comes through. You make a mess of him. Saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth and down his length.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he murmurs. “Gonna fuck that pretty throat now and make this pussy come, understood?”

Eyes tearing up, you nod. From the way your stomach convulses, you know that you’re close, your skin tight over your trembling muscles. The nod is all that Joel needs from you. Holding you in place, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself completely down your throat while flicking his tongue against your clit. You scream around him, eyes rolling back as he continues to devour you and take you apart at the same time. He licks you with fat strokes of his tongue, a hint of teeth scraping your folds here and there as he fucks your throat with shallow thrusts.

You’re limp against his broad body, allowing him to use you as he pleases while all you can do is hang on for the ride. Pleasure licks the base of your spine, a searing heat caressing your skin while Joel continues to build you up only for you to fall spectacularly. Your lips start to ache, your throat squeezing around him whenever he snaps his hips forward—

And all hell finally breaks loose.

You come undone with a devastating cry only for it to be muffled by his cock going down your throat. You gush around his tongue, soaking his facial hair and mouth, Joel is underrated, licking and sucking until you’re shaking above him, every bit of tension draining from your body.

Joel comes shortly after, his hand slides from your waist and he manages to reach out in order to hold your head down. You don’t have a choice but to swallow as he spills down your throat, thick spurts of come going down while he shudders and pushes even deeper.

There’s so much of it, cock twitching and throbbing in your mouth until your mouth sucks him dry. You’re lightheaded from the lack of air; you find that it adds to the pleasure that’s buzzing in your veins, your cunt still pulsing with the heft of him still buried in your lips.

He pulls out with a satisfied groan and you manage to scoot down so you’re straddling his chest instead of head. Joel caresses your back, the gentle repeated motion sending tingles down your spine.

“That’s was fuckin’ amazin’,” he says, voice hoarse. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” you answer sounding meek. “I think I need some water though.”

You get off, legs still shaking, but he grabs your hand, halting your movement. “Let me get it for you,” he says, sitting up.

“I’m already up,” you smile as his brows furrow with worry, the expression warming your heart. You quickly bend down to kiss him and he’s quick to lick himself into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. “I’ll be right back.”

You have no idea how you’re standing while feeling like jello but you manage to get yourself all the way to the fridge. You smile at the coolness touching your warmed skin when you open the door. Scanning the interior, you thoughtlessly rub at your throat in an attempt to soothe the ache a little. You grab the pitcher of cold water and notice a bit of apple pie left over.

“Hey, Joel?” you call out. He hums in acknowledgment. “Can I have a slice of pie?”

His humored chuckle follows through, “You can eat the whole damn thing after what you’ve done,” you smile and take the desert out. “Can you bring me a slice too?” he adds.

You smile and place the pie on the counter. The leftover is already two slices give or take so you decide to just take two forks with you instead of dirting a plate. Looking through the drawers, you try to remember which one is the cutlery drawer.

On your second try you find something else.

Something that makes your eyes go wide and heart throb painfully.

Your hands shaking, you pick up the owl mask from the drawer. The surface is smooth, and the color of it a light shade of brown just like a tawny owl. All the pleasant tingles fade away, the buzz of pleasure in your veins replaced by fear and adrenaline.

Heading back to the living room, you show the mask to Joel.

“What’s this?” you ask, your voice betraying your sudden outburst of fear.

Joel looks up, eyes flitting between you and the owl mask. He raises a brow, his confusion evident across his face. “It’s a mask, sweetheart.”

“No no, I know it’s a mask,” you answer, breathless. “But why do you have it?”

“It’s Ellie’s,” he stands up, his pants still unbuttoned but pulled up. You fight the urge to step away, fight the urge to flinch when he touches your cheek. “They were makin’ Halloween masks last year in school. I didn’t even realize we still had it.”

“Really?” you ask and he nods.

“Really,” Joel claims your lips in a chaste kiss, thumb stroking lines up and down your cheek. His hand slithers down your arm to your wrist and when he squeezes, you drop the mask. “Why?” he breathes into you. “Is this about the damn thing Tucker wrote down?”

You remain silent and he pulls away, dark eyes boring into yours.

“You need to relax, sweetheart,” he mumbles. “Why don’t you just allow yourself to enjoy this? You deserve to be happy.”

Your eyes widen with surprise, his words crashing into you, “I. . . Do I do that? Really?”

“It’s normal, darlin’,” he answers. “I’m pretty sure we all have survivor’s guilt.”

You let out a shaky exhale. He’s right. You were just feeling guilty of being alive when so many had died. Joel smiles back and traces the curve of yours with his fingers. “There’s that smile that I adore,” he guides you towards the kitchen. “Now let’s go eat some pie.”

No matter what though, you can’t help but turn back to look at the owl mask one last time as it lays lifelessly on the floor.

“So, tell me about this book you’re writin’?”

You let out a low laugh, “I already told you about it. What more do you wanna know?”

You stare at Joel’s back as he takes the lead, he’d decided to join you in your explorations ever since you told him how nervous you had gotten the last time. You had appreciated the gesture but still felt a tad anxious around him ever since you found that damn owl mask—

A branch snaps into two under your steps and he turns, extending his hand to you. With a smile you allow him to lace his fingers within yours, your stomach jumping a little as he tugs you close so the two of you are walking side by side instead.

“If memory serves me right we got distracted when you told me about it,” he says with that southern drawl of his. “So tell me again what it’s about.”

“Okay okay,” you smile, squeezing his hand twice. “It’s all a big mess now but the premise is that there’s this guy obsessed with this woman and he stalks her and no matter what she does, she always feels like there’s someone watching.”

Joel looks ahead, “Sounds familiar. Isn’t that how you felt last time you were out here?”

“Yeah, and it’s when I started writing it.”

“So do these two people know each other?” his tone drops, his fingers suddenly feeling like barbed wire within your hand. You swallow. “I mean in their regular lives, does the woman know that he’s the one stalkin’ her?”

You roll your shoulders, a weak attempt to shrug off the eeriness that you feel.

“Exactly. I think that just makes the whole thing creepier. He’s just a normal guy, even a friend, but he’s also the one among the shadows.”

“Interestin’,” he murmurs. “You think that’s happenin’ to you?”

“I don’t think there’s someone stalking me, if that’s what you’re asking,” you utter every word hastily, your pulse quickening under your skin.

His lips curl in a half smile, “That’s good,” he says. “Wouldn’t want you to be laying awake thinking about what might lingerin’ on the other side of the window.”

“I think I’m more likely to stay awake thinking about infected,” you say with a soft laugh. “But yeah, it’s all fiction. That day I probably just got scared because of what Poppy said about Ian.”

“Probably,” Joel trails off, his steps slowing. “How do you think it’s gonna end?”

“W-What?”

He stops and so does your heart. At least you think it does.

Joel faces you fully, his presence towering, he grips your shoulders and pushes you back until the air is knocked from your lungs by a tree right behind you. Your eyes go wide. He leans in, breath tickling your lips.

“How do you think your book is gonna end, sweetheart?” he asks again, eyes gleaming with something dark. “Is the guy gonna get the girl?”

“I—I don’t know.”

All you can think about is the owl mask and how it would perfectly fit his face. He cocks his head and taking a step closer, he slips a leg between your thighs. Slick gathers at your underwear—he feels the fabric dampening on his leg and grins.

“Fear turns you on doesn’t it?” he purrs. “Wicked thing.”

Relief drowns your senses. So that’s why he got all weird suddenly, he’s just teasing you. With a laugh, your head falls back against the tree trunk, “Jesus Joel, you scared the shit out of me.”

“It ain’t my fault,” he says, nipping at your chin. “You’re easy to scare.”

“Well, two brutal unsolvable murders will do that to a girl.”

Joel lets go and pulls away, smiling as he shakes his head, “What’s it gonna take for you to believe I had nothin’ to do with those? Even in death, Tucker causes nothin’ but fuckin’ trouble for me.”

“You don’t need to do anything, I’m sorry,” you pull him back, relishing in the way his strong arms wrap around your frame. “I’ll stop being such a chicken, promise. I’m still a bit jittery that’s all.”

“I forgive you,” he says against your lips, kissing you quickly before pulling you away from the thick trunk of the tree. “Now let’s find a place to settle down for the night.”

When you two return to Jackson three days later, the first thing you notice is the crowd. Your stomach drops at the familiar sight and instinctively you reach out to Joel, lacing your fingers together. He squeezes your hand two times.

The last thing you should be feeling is relief that now it’s not possible for Joel to be the one killing all those people but alas, that’s all you feel. Relief and love.

The trade fair sprawls before you. Stalls with makeshift awnings, tattered banners, and worn tarps create a patchwork quilt of colors, beneath which a diverse array of goods is proudly displayed. The air is thick with the scent of freshly baked bread, the tang of cured leather, and the earthy aroma of herbs. Laughter, chatter, and the occasional clinking of metal form a lively symphony, a chorus of life that drowns out the ever-present background hum of death and infection.

You’ve always enjoyed the time of the trade fair. People move like busy ants, weaving between the stalls. Children, their cheeks dusted with earth, dart through the crowd, their carefree laughter that should be comforting doing the opposite. Since Tina’s death— she was one of the council members— you had been sleeping at Joel’s. Neither he nor Ellie seemed to mind you staying there.

The purpose of the fair is to exchange goods – to exchange, to connect, to share stories of survival.

Your eyes scan the crowd for Joel's familiar silhouette. He and Ellie had headed out before you since you wanted a change of clothes. Just as your gaze begins to falter, a voice reaches your ears. "Hey!" It's Poppy, she waves you over.

You navigate your way through the bustling stalls until you stand before Poppy. She's leaning against a rough-hewn post, a glint of excitement in her eyes.

“Hey, Poppy,” you greet her with a smile. “I’m looking for Joel, or Ellie, have you seen either of them?”

“Well, Ellie is with Dina, hanging out,” She points to the forest that skirts the settlement. "I saw him heading that way not too long ago."

“Alright, thanks. I’ll see you later then,” Waving her off, you head after Joel.

The trees are a bit more scarce here, there’s more room between them. The forest opens up, revealing a sprawling expanse that stretches as far as the eye can see. It's a stark contrast to the dense woods you often travel to, where the trees stand like guardians, their branches interlocking in a tapestry of shadow and light. Here, the gaps between the trees create pockets of sunlight that dapple the forest floor.

However, the expanses between trees can be deceiving, and without the markers and familiarity of the well-trodden paths closer to home, it's easy to lose your way.

For some reason instead of calling out for Joel, you decide to wander aimlessly. You’re not sure why. You don’t come to this side of Jackson often enough to feel comfortable with your surroundings and shouting his name would definitely be easier than walking without aim.

Soon enough you hear faint murmuring beckoning you deeper into the forest.

Survival instincts kicking in, you slow down your steps, making sure to step onto clear dirt instead of gravel or fallen branches. Hiding behind a rather large tree trunk, you stare ahead. In the distance, you see two men: one with his back against the tree, while the other holds him by the neck, the sharp blade of his knife catching the sunlight and reflecting it directly into your eyes.

You hold your breath and your eyes go wide. You hear the thrum of your heart. It’s the killer. It has to be.

You can’t quite hear them but you can decipher the tone of begging for one's life. The man holding the knife tilts his head slightly, your mouth waters at the prospect of finally seeing the murderer's face—

It’s the mask.

The same mask you found in Joel’s home in the shape of an owl. Your stomach churns violently, bile raising to your throat as you watch on. You rub at your eyes, take deep breaths—anything you can think of that would erase the image before you.

Goosebumps raising across your skin, you shake your head. It can’t be Joel. He was with you the day Tina died and no matter how competent he was not even he could be at two places at once.

A muffled scream echoes within the forest and your eyes snap to the two men, the owl had driven his knife into the flesh and bone. He pulls it out, and the body falls. You recognize who it is; Jacob. You heard his name a couple of days ago from Ellie, he was bothering both her and Dina because they were hanging out.

He’s still alive when the killer stomps his head in, blood splattering across the leys.

You’re frozen in place. Your throat dry and tongue motionless. The killer kicks Jacob one last time for good measure and finally stops. You observe the way his shoulders drop as if a great weight had been lifted off of them, then he looks up into the sky, the golden sun highlighting his mask.

Very slowly, he lifts his hand and takes it off.

Every feeling comes rushing back, too fast and too soon. Your tongue is alive again and so is your body, the world is suddenly vibrant with life and horror. The sun continues to caress the countenance of the unmasked killer’s face, his sunkissed skin the perfect canvas to soak up the light.

Joel.

You take a step back, every thought of precaution dropping from your mind. The forest starts to spin. It spins and spins and spins until the ground slips from beneath your feet. You catch yourself at the very last second.

When you look up you see his gaze staring directly into yours.

“Fuck,” you hiss out, quickly staggering up. The last thing you see before you start running is his extended hand as he tries to reach out for you.

“Wait!”

You don’t. You do the exact opposite of that. You run. You run for your life and those in Jackson at the fair.

You run with memories loud in your mind. How Joel had listened to you, comforted you, fucked you—

Tears sting your eyes. Every part of this feels like a nightmare that you hope to wake up from anytime soon. But as the wind hits your skin, you know that every part of this is very much real. Your chest burns from how fast you’re going, your legs starting to falter underneath you.

Before you can react, an unexpected force slams into you. The impact sends shockwaves through your body as you collide with something—or is it someone?—their presence as jarring as the jolt itself. Your momentum falters, and for a fleeting moment, time seems to slow as you stumble, desperately trying to regain your balance.

Two arms grab at you and without even seeing who it is, you start to push the person away, fighting against it like a wild animal.

“Let go of me! Let go of me!”

“Hey hey hey,” you hear a familiar voice repeat. “It’s me, you’re okay,” you’re shaking all around, only when you feel his hands cradle your cheeks do you open your eyes. He smiles when he sees your eyes flicker in recognition.

“Tommy?” you whisper. He nods and without a thought you jump him, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him close. His arms coil around you in response, promising to not let go. “Oh, thank fuck it’s you.”

“What happened? Are you alright?”

“I—I am okay but—Joel—It’s Joel, Tommy he’s been the one behind all those murders. We need to warn everyone, we need to tell Maria!”

You grab his arm and tug him along toward what you assume is the right way out of the forest. He remains still. Turning around, you shoot him a confused glance. 'Tommy, we need to tell people.'

“Can’t let you do that sugar, sorry.”

“Why. . . Why not?” you let go and slowly step back, heart pounding. “Is it because he’s your brother?”

You wish that was his excuse. Some moral obligation towards Joel because he’s his brother, that you can relate to. Your heart still pounds for Joel and in your brain, you’re still desperately seeking an explanation.

But Tommy allows the silence to linger, your fear and worry quickly turning into anger.

“Fine, I’ll tell them. It’s wrong.”

It only takes a blink of an eye; you feel Tommy’s iron grip around your wrist, yanking you back into his chest. He holds you. Oddly tender for someone who had made your arm nearly fall out of its socket. You thrash within his arms, pulling and hitting his chest.

“We’re doing good,” he grunts. “You gotta see that.”

You refuse to listen, your ear narrowing on the sound of your own blood rush instead of his words. By some miracle, you manage to slip your arm out and punch him square in the chin. It was a weak punch but strong enough to startle Tommy.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart, calm the fuck down—” he tucks your arm back against your body and turns you around so your back is flush against his chest. You’re breathing raggedly, chest rising with every deep gulp of air. His lips touch your ear, his tone menacing, “I really wish you would’ve not done that.”

“Why?” you gasp. “You’re gonna kill me too?”

Silence follows, and with every passing moment sweat beads on your forehead, “It was you wasn’t it?” you continue. “You killed Tina. Joel only came along with me to calm my suspicions.”

Before Tommy can confirm your suspicions, you notice movement within the forest and your eyes are immediately drawn to the shadow coming forth.

“Smart girl,” Joel remarks with a half smile as he emerges from between the trees. There’s a splatter of red over his shirt but the knife seems to be tucked away. For now. “But you’re only half right, darlin’. I came along because I like spendin’ time with you.”

“Is that supposed to make me ignore the fact that Jacob’s body isn’t even cold yet?”

Joel curls two fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze while Tommy continues to hold you back. You shudder against him, a soft sound parts the younger Miller’s lips.

“He was a piece of shit,” Joel grunts. “He was botherin’ Ellie, callin’ her names, he deserved what he was gettin’.”

“So what, you guys are just playing hero? Killing everyone who’s causing trouble in town? There’s a system for that.”

“Honey,” he tuts, an involuntary warmth spreading within your abdomen. “The system didn’t work before the outbreak, it ain’t gonna work now either.”

“We protect our own,” Tommy says from behind you, breath fanning your neck. “We take care of it before it escalates. You have to understand that.”

“And why the hell would I understand?” you hiss, looking directly into Joel’s eyes while addressing Tommy.

Joel smiles, his lips curling slowly, “Because you’re one of us. And you like it when we protect.”

Your lips part with an exhale. He’s right, not that you still agree with them killing people, but you had enjoyed that primal protection coming from the Millers. It made you feel powerful, loved, cared for. All the things you craved deeply.

You ignore Joel and his words entirely, averting your eyes with embarrassment and shame.

“I just don’t understand why you did it, Tommy” you murmur. Tommy tenses behind you, his arms tightening around your frame, drawing the remaining oxygen from your lungs. “I understand the other’s to an extent but Tina didn’t do anything wrong.”

Joel looks towards Tommy, it was his kill after all and the older Miller had nothing to say about it.

“She was wrecking what Maria is tryin’ so hard to build,” he answers. “She’s pregnant, stress ain’t good for her or the baby.”

“Does. . . Does Maria—”

Tommy cuts you off, “No.”

Joel leans closer, mouth an inch away from yours as he parts his lips. “I killed for you,” You hate the way your body reacts to him, wanting to close the distance between you two despite how unsettled you feel. “Ian was a piece of shit, so was Tucker and Jacob. They don’t deserve your empathy, honey. And you can’t deny that you’re glad they’re gone.”

His hair is a delightful mess. Soft locks going in every direction. All you want to do is thread your fingers within and forget about all of this. Joel’s gaze is observant, dark eyes darting all over your face. You don’t know what he sees but whatever it is, he nods to Tommy for him to let you go and he does. Legs lifeless and shaking, he catches you, his warmth welcoming. He’s still tender with you. Hands delicate as they move over your arms, shifting you so you'll be facing Tommy.

Joel’s hand curls around your neck and holds your chin so you can’t look away. You can’t read Tommy’s expression. You’re not sure what he’s feeling. However, you think he looks almost relieved that you’re not fighting anymore.

You shudder as Joel drags his lips down your neck, taking deep breaths of your fear-induced scent. His hands slip under your shirt and cup both breaths, making you squeal. Your objection is short-lived when he brushes his thumbs over both nipples, awakening them with slow strokes.

Tommy’s gaze drops to your chest.

“He’s been watching you, you know,” Joel says. “When I had things to settle in town it was him who looked after you,” his voice drops, eyes observing his brother. “I think he deserves a bit of a show, don’t you think?”

The whimper you let out is enough for Tommy to meet your gaze curiously. Joel smiles into your skin and your eyes widen as he pulls out a knife—a different one from the one he used on Jacob, you realize with relief.

Your breath hitches as he slides the knife under your shirt and cuts your shirt clean from the middle, exposing you completely to his younger brother’s eyes. Sudden arousal pools between your legs and you clamp them together suddenly, the movement not unnoticed by either of them.

“You like it when my brother watches?” he asks loud enough for Tommy to hear. “You got a little crush on him too, sweetheart, hmm? Don’t worry, he’s always goin’ to be lookin’ out for you. That’s what family does after all.”

Your neck strains as Joel tilts your head suddenly, claiming your lips in a violent kiss. He doesn’t wait for you to part your lips for him and pushes his tongue into your mouth, licking the surprised sounds of pleasure right from your mouth. Your heart skips a beat. He presses the flat side of the knife against your warmed skin, the chill of metal settling in your bones.

When he parts away, a string of saliva connects you still. “You’re mine aren’t you?” Joel groans, lips moving over yours.

You nod in a daze and he smiles, “And I’m yours too,” he says.

Your eyes meet Tommy momentarily, the younger Miller’s lips twitch in a half smile. He doesn’t say a word as he closes the distance.

Tommy cradles your face tenderly, urging you to come close as he envelopes your lips with his own, taking you by surprise.

The kiss lacks the intensity compared to Joel’s. Tommy caresses your cheeks with both thumbs. You don’t even feel his tongue, it’s just a gradual movement of lips, a type of affirmation and comfort.

“You’re one of us now,” he says pressing his forehead against yours. You don’t know how to react or what to say and you end up just nodding, your hands fisting his shirt. Him, parting away from you almost feels painful but you’re not sure why. Tommy gives you a smile and Joel a nod before he leaves.

You and Joel stand like that for a while, in complete silence, bodies flushed together, knife still resting over your stomach.

“I only did what was right,” he breaks the silence. His tone isn’t one of asking for forgiveness or understanding. His arms tighten around you. “Are you afraid of me?” he whispers into your ear, the thick hairs above his lips tickling the shell of your ear.

You don’t answer him.

“You don’t need to be,” he continues. He allows you to move within his arms, you want to see his face, you need to see him to not fear for your life. You ignore the knife grazing your skin as you turn around, your bare front snug against his chest. “I’ll never hurt you. And you’re the only person in this whole damn town that can say that. You and Ellie.”

“What about Tommy?”

“Tommy’s priorities lay elsewhere.”

He doesn’t allow you to inquire further about what he means by that. All you can detect is a hint of anger that quickly dissipates when he claims your lips once more.

You’re lost in him. His tongue captures you in a way that makes you forget the blood on his clothes—on his hands. His tongue slides against your own, pressing until you’re moaning into his mouth, your knees faltering at the knife smoothing down your skin.

Before pushing you down to the ground, he takes off the shirt he cut in half completely off of you, your bra following the pile on the grass. Your breath hitches as he takes his place between your legs, his mouth devouring your neck, “Joel. . .” you moan, fisting his shirt and grinding up to feel at least a bit of friction.

A silent laugh seeps into your skin, his breath sending shivers up your spine, “Do you still feel bad for them?” he teases, laying a wet kiss between your breasts.

You don’t think much as you answer, “No.”

And as a reward, Joel closes his lips over a nipple, sucking hard until your breathing goes ragged.

“That’s my girl,” he groans, moving towards the other pebbled flesh. “You’re too good, too kind, but they don’t deserve that sweetheart.”

He hooks his fingers into your belt loops and tugs down your jeans, laving you with soft, ticklish kisses as he moves lower and lower. When you’re completely bare to him, you have the urge to cover yourself, the grass tickles your back and the wind feels colder now. Joel smiles and pulls your arms away. He lays the knife right above your stomach and your breath hitches.

“I want to taste you,” Joel says. “But not in the way you think, darlin’,” he kisses the sensitive skin right adobe your belly button, and brings the sharp edge of the knife to your skin. “I want to taste the life that pumps through your veins.”

Your eyes widen as he nicks you. It’s a small cut and blood beads at the wound instantly. He doesn’t allow it to gather enough so that’ll trickle down, he quickly presses his lips against it, your essence coating his tongue as he gives it a tender suck. You can the blood leaving your veins, a pleasant tingle echoing from the wound and spreading throughout your body. Your eyes flutter, a moan escaping your lips as he flattens his tongue against the cut and licks with board strokes.

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he rasps, pushing two fingers into you with ease. You gasp at the sudden stretch, your back arching into his touch. “So darn wet—All this for me, sunshine?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, grinding down. “Joel, please—”

You hear the sound of his belt buckle coming undone, his breath heavy in your ear, “Since you asked so nicely, sweetheart, I’m obliged.”

You feel the head of his cock brush against your entrance, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Your eyes close in anticipation and you whimper as he slowly slides inside you inch by inch. You can feel it, that intense fullness that can only come from him, taking his time to make sure it feels good. His size is intimidating but you feel yourself melting around him, eager and willing.

“That’s it. . . you’re takin’ me so well, such a tight little hole for me. Fuckin’ amazin’.”

He presses his forehead against yours, nipping at your bottom lip before thrusting, sending a wave of pleasure that makes your toes curl. You cling onto him for support as he pumps deeper and faster, hitting all the right spots. It takes neither of you long to climb the edge, ready to fall. You can feel the warmth of his breath, and his grip tightens on your hips. His pace quickens as the intensity builds, and you clench around him as he groans your name.

“Gonna come inside,” he slurs his words. “Gonna fill you up—shit—”

You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of you, his hard length contracting. As he pushes deeper into you, your insides flutter, squeezing around him. Your orgasm is ripped from you, shattering and mind-numbing. Your head spins and you cling to him, afraid that the world underneath you might slip entirely. His hot come warms you from the inside out, spilling from where his cock stretches you.

Joel remains inside until he starts to soften. He pulls out of you, leaving you feeling a longing ache deep within your core. You shudder as his come trickles down your thighs, your cunt clenching around nothing.

“Such a pretty sight,” he murmurs, entranced, as he gathers himself over his fingers and pushes it back inside you. “Try to keep as much as you can inside.” To emphasize his want for it, he slides your underwear up your legs.

You’re tied to him now. And even though you shouldn’t, you enjoy being the one near the beast. Joel helps you dress, at least helps you with what remains, and gives you his leather jacket to wear since your shirt is in ruins. Neither of you says a word as you walk back to where Jacob’s body rests. You help him bury the body, not feeling a single thing; no grief, no remorse, no sadness.

You always did have a complicated relationship with death after all.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #hauntedhoedown

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emelinstriker · 8 months

Text

Wukong ♡ Part Of The Family

I'm not dead whoop- Just lost motivation and also didn't really have time. I don't know if I'm now fully back, but here have this one-shot... And a Mink (Ink MK) X Reader is in the making as I'm publishing this one-shot. c:

And Wukong's got a thing for MK's mom in this one...

ⓘ Reader is USING SHE/HER PRONOUNS

♡ ~ Fluff ~ ♡

"Alright, I'll be heading home now."

"Make sure not to forget your backpack this time."

"Oh c'mon, I told you I was in a hurry yesterday, Pigsy! Anyway, see you tomorrow."

And with that, you put on your backpack and made your way over to the front door of the noodle shop. You were casually walking outside, humming a tune that's been stuck in your head the entire day... Until you noticed a little boy standing there, nude and covered in dirt, just staring at the noodle shop's bright light in awe. Confused and concerned, you glanced around the area in search for any possible parent looking for their runaway child. But there was no one even walking around the street. It was almost closing time for many people, after all.

When the boy still didn't move, you decided to take action. Slowly approaching the boy, you kneeled down to be more at his height. "Hey there, sweetie. How did you end up here like this? Are you lost? What's your name?" He looked at you, then back at the shop. Yet, he did not talk. Scratching your head in thought, you decided to approach the situation differently. "So, uh... Are you hungry? I'm sure I can let Pigsy take a bit off my paycheck for some noodles. I don't think he would turn down cooking for a kid in need."

Again, he just looked at you, then back at the shop. You sighed. This would be a fun problem to solve past closing hours. Extending your hand out towards the boy, you stood up. "C'mon, sweetie. Let me at least get you inside. I'd rather have you sit inside in the warmth than standing outside in the cold and dark once the sun is gone. I'm sure we can help find your parents."

This time, the boy looked at you, then at your hand. He hesitantly placed his tiny, kinda dirtied hand in yours and you began to slowly lead him inside the noodle shop's light.

Your boss was kind and helped you clean him up and gave him spare clothes, which looked a bit too big on the boy, then cooked up a meal for him. Sadly, you were unable to figure out what happened to him or where his parents were. You even looked outside the shop in the dark occasionally, trying to hear or see anyone who was looking for their child. But nothing came of it. Eventually, you found out the child's name and... It was really long. And since neither you or Pigsy could be bothered with saying it, you decided to nickname him MK. Your choice of the nickname was actually inspired by the legendary Monkey King, how he also had a really long name that got shortened for convenience as well.

A couple of days passed and there still was no parent looking for their child, nor was there any missing person report regarding a young boy with his descriptions...

You were basically taking care of MK during day and night, taking him home with you. At one point you suggested placing him in an orphanage, but MK only started to sob and cry, hugging your leg, not wanting to leave you. And being unable to say no, you accepted your fate. Hell, you even went the extra mile and became his legally adoptive parent with the paperwork you filled out, with Pigsy as uncle-figure of course.

As time went on, so did the years of development for your son. He moved out of your house and moved into the apartment Pigsy owned right above his shop, making him have a much easier time going to work. Meanwhile, you decided to travel through other towns all around the country, sending many little souvenir gifts and postcards over to Megapolis for MK to see, as well as keeping in touch with him through texts. And just a few years later, you heard news about various demons attacking your Megapolis, and how a boy called the Monkie Kid saved the city multiple times. Concerned, you started to travel back to the city, trying to get back as soon as you could to make sure your son and your former boss were alright.

To be honest, you arrived at a probably horrible time.

Looking at the city's skyline in the distance, you had to rub you eyes in confusion. Were you seeing this right? The city was partially covered in what seemed like giant ice shards... Did climate change really hit this area this bad the past years? It wasn't like it covered everything, but there certainly seemed to be a lot of icy remains. Shaking your head to regain focus, you proceeded with your self-proclaimed mission of checking on your son and your former boss. Cautiously making your way through Megapolis... the city seemed rather ruined. People were seemingly trying to get rid of any remaining ice as well as just generally trying to recover from whatever occurred. You were more confused if anything. What happened? Was this the aftermath of an attack of a demon you heard and read about in the news?

You then found your way back to Pigsy's Noodles. The noodle shop didn't seem to have changed at all. Upon entering, you immediately recognized some familiar and some unfamiliar faces. But the three you were most happy about to see were MK, Tang and Pigsy. You grinned, staying quiet as you leaned against the wall next to the entrance.

"MK! Order up!" Pigsy yelled out with a smile... It was certainly strange to see him smiling, but you weren't going to complain. Nice to know he was happier than when you left.

"On it, boss!" MK exclaimed as he swiftly grabbed the ordered bag. Though, as he turned to leave, his eyes spotted you... He froze, almost tripping over himself as he nearly let the noodle order fall in absolute shock. The boy simply looked at you with wide eyes... Before he started to tear up and seemingly hugged you at lightspeed. "MOM! YOU'RE BACK! I MISSED YOU! IT'S BEEN SO LONG!"

You chuckled as you tightly hugged him back, slightly tearing up yourself. "I'm home, sweetie..."

Of course, due to MK still having to go on his delivery route, he didn't have time to catch up with you just yet. However, you asked if you could join him on his delivery to catch up while he drove around. And of course, he happily agreed. Though, it was interesting to see where he went for those deliveries... The way he so casually delivered those noodles to so many demons with you... However, he was inhumanly fast at it. You were actually intrigued... What happened to your son while you were gone? Why was he suddenly so fast? Sure, he was a pretty hyperactive kid at least since you and Tang told him about the legend of the Monkey King, but this speed was new to you.

However, it wasn't until the last delivery where you were really questioning things. He had to deliver to Sun Wukong, the legendary Monkey King. At first you were under the assumption that he was supposed to place the delivery as an offering at his temple... You did not expect your precious baby boy to crash into a rock solid wall, apparently revealing the Monkey King's home on the other side, and creating a hole in the wall from excitement... Yeah, you definitely were missing out on major context here for sure. And if that wasn't enough, the legendary Monkey King himself was actually standing behind said wall and casually greeted your son as if it were just another day... Was this real? Didn't Sun Wukong supposedly vanish since he sealed the Demon Bull King? Was this a fake? You were actually internally freaking out at the sight of the legend himself from the stories. Though, you tried to keep calm and not squeal like a fangirl. He looked too real to be a human in a costume...

"Hey, bud!" Monkey King greeted MK before noticing you. He blinked at you in confusion. "Oh- Who's your friend?"

But before you could introduce yourself, MK hugged you excitedly from the side. "Monkey King, this is my mom! Mom, meet Monkey King!"

You awkwardly wave with a nervous, not sure if you were even allowed to be here. "Uh... h-hey."

"My mom and Mr.Tang are the reason I became a fan of your stories in the first place! She's a huge fan of you too!" MK said excitedly, which made you blush in embarrassment as you pursed your lips, mentally wanting to shut your son up from talking about you and your interests.

Monkey King couldn't help but snort at the dynamic you and your son have. He didn't even need his powers to notice the clear embarrassment and awkwardness you felt at your son's words. "Well, I'm glad to be able to meet the mother of my successor." The ginger-furred simian held out his hand for you to shake. You smiled awkwardly and hesitantly shook his hand, internally screaming that you were literally shaking hands with the Sun Wukong...

But then his words hit you and you looked at him and MK in confusion. "Wait a minute... Successor? Of the Monkey King?" You gave MK a slight glare. "He didn't tell me anything about that..." Your son laughed sheepishly, to which the Monkey King grinned smugly at him.

"Whaaat? You didn't tell your mom about how you can wield my staff and powers? And how you did a bunch of hero stuff?" Monkey King teased the poor boy. MK really just wanted to disappear right about now in fear of your silent rage.

"MK, I'm not mad that you didn't tell me... Well, I kind of am. But I'm mainly just worried about you and your safety, sweetie." You stated as you kissed MK's forehead. The way you handled MK seemed to very slightly stir something deep inside the Monkey King... He didn't know what it was, but it made him feel a little funny. It was a rather pleasant feeling... Just the way you talked with MK and treated the boy who was somewhat of a son to him.. Wait.

Actually- Nevermind, he realized something.

MK whined a bit, "Mooom, but I'm grown up already! I can handle some bad guys, even the big ones!"

"And I'm supposed to believe it how? Sure I've seen you running extremely quickly, but I haven't seen you use any actual powers- Besides you breaking the wall-" You paused. Then you turned towards the Monkey King and bowed a little. "I'm terribly sorry that my son broke your wall! How much would it cost to fix it? I-I'm sure I can cover the cost somehow-"

"Psh, it's fine, don't worry about it, Miss (Y/N). No need to pay for it. We tend to destroy walls surprisingly often during training. I can just easily fix it later myself if necessary", Monkey King cut you off. He then got an idea of how to prove it all. He placed his hands on his hips and grinned. "Well, speaking of training... How about your son and I show you what he can do already? We haven't been training in a while anyway, so it could be a nice refresher after everything that happened with the Lady Bone Deeeuuuuhhhh... Forget that part, actually."

You give both a confused and somewhat suspicious look. Now it was Monkey King's turn to laugh nervously. "Aahahaaaanyway- Let's show her what you've learned so far, bud!" He then grabbed you and MK and lead you outside to the cliffside of his home, where him and MK would usually chill and train at. And to give credit where credit is due, it did seem like MK learned quite a bit from his mentor. He even performed some of Monkey King's 72 transformations to show off his skills. Of course you were proud and happy for your son, but you were still a little worried about him having to face actual threats as the legend's successor.

That's when Monkey King started to act... strange, as MK would put it. He wanted to spar with the young boy, which was fine... But unlike their usual sparring sessions, this time his mentor was shirtless. MK immediately knew something was up because he has never seen him spar shirtless since there was no need. Monkey King never even break a single sweat during training. Nor did he ever overheat...

Meanwhile, you couldn't help but eye the ginger-furred monkey's physique. Despite being on the rather lean side, he did have refined muscles on him which were clearly visible due to the bright sunlight. Monkey King noticed your staring and only seemed to move more in a calculated way as he dodges MK's attacks. It was if he was showing off his body more, which made you faintly blush while he grinned... You thought he was grinning because of how easily he dodged MK's attacks with his staff.

However, Monkey King seemed so distracted and was holding back by showing off his body that he did not manage to block one attack from MK. The attack knocked the monkey to the ground due to him losing his balance in surprise. MK laughs victoriously at his mentor's defeat since the task was to land a hit. "Ha! I did it!"

Monkey King blushed a bit in embarrassment as he watched you hold back your laughter. He sheepishly smiled at his successor before using his tail to help himself off the ground. "Yeah, you sure did bud. Congrats."

Suddenly, your phone rang, capturing the attention of both of them. Looking at your phone, you noticed it was Pigsy calling. You sighed as you turned towards the other two. "I'll be right back, I got a call." You said before going a bit further away from them so you could be able to peacefully listen to what Pigsy wanted to talk to you about.

Meanwhile, MK just had to make sure of something. He raised an eyebrow at his mentor, grinning smugly. "Soooo... My mom...~?"

Monkey King blushed as he looked away, laughing nervously as he scratched his cheek. "Ahahaha! W-What are you talking about, kid? W-What about you mom ahaha-"

"You like her, don't you?" MK asks smugly. "You never take any clothes off during our sparring sessions, not even the smallest piece. Even when someone else is around... You even held back on your dodges to flex! This is the first time I see you trying to impress someone!"

If the ginger-furred simian had been drinking something, he would've either spat it out or choked on it as he tried to nervously laugh it off. "O-Of course not! Wha- W-What makes you say that? That doesn't prove anything! I just... felt like sparring like this today, okay? There's a first time for everything after all!" He tried to justify his actions. MK on the other hand just hummed, still grinning smugly. For anyone else trying to hook up with his mom, he would feel disgusted by it. However, the idea of the Sun Wukong, his mentor, legally becoming his father would be amazing. So, what else is there to do than for him to tease his probably and hopefully future dad? "...I don't like how you're looking at me right now." Wukong commented as MK simply continued to grin at him.

"Just admit it."

"...Admit what, bud?"

"That you like my mom."

"Oh- Ahahaha- Psh, I don't like her. I-I mean I like her, you know? She's nice, she's caring... But, I don't like-like her, y-you know? I-I, uh, just-" The ginger simian stammered nervously.

"Mhm. Sure..." MK's grin didn't fade.

After some awkward staring, Monkey King sighed in defeat. "...Okay fine, maybe... Just maybe I do like her just a tiny smidge more than I should for just meeting her today..."

MK chuckles as he leans against his staff. "So like, do you want me to play matchmaker and set you two up? I could get Mei and Sandy involved too in helping you get her to like you back."

The ginger-furred simian blinks at him in both surprise, confusion and embarrassment. He thought his successor would either just drop the topic or continue teasing him behind your back. Maybe he somewhat expected him to even resent him in a way for liking his mother... He just didn't expect him to willingly want to be a supportive matchmaker.

Monkey King nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Um... How about without them- I just... don't want this to be a big thing since I just met her...?" That came out as more of a question than a statement. The young Monkie Kid happily looked at his mentor, seeing his answer as a clear-cut confirmation of the Great Sage Equal To Heaven asking him for help.

It didn't take long for a plan to be formed.

From then on, just to have both of you to get to know each other better, MK asked you continuously to come with him to Flower Fruit Mountain everytime him and Monkey King were training... And your son was an annoyingly persistent bean, so you usually were dragged away and over to the Monkey King's lair. Then, after every training session, his mentor would talk to you.

It started off simple, actually. You would usually ask about MK's progress as well as about what kind of trouble he's already gotten himself into while you were gone. Apparently the day you returned, MK and his friends had just defeated some ancient bone demon spirit and Megapolis was still recovering.

But then your topics became a lot more personal with each new conversation. While your conversations once were just about things regarding your son being the successor of the Monkey King, over the course of the next weeks, Monkey King would talk to you more about personal preferences. Soon, most of your conversations became rather personal between you two. And oddly enough, MK never once bothered you two. Which made you a little suspicious because MK would usually pester you about what you were talking about with someone else.

You actually became quite good friends with your son's mentor. And after some more time, Sun Wukong, the legendary Monkey King, the Great Sage Equal To Heaven, asked you out for dinner on Flower Fruit Mountain. You, a mere mortal human, of course were stunned. But also excited to basically go on a date with Sun Wukong himself. Though, it didn't take long for you to figure out that MK was helping out his mentor in hooking you up with him... Just the fact that he was not so secretly asking Wukong about his type right in front of you, to which the Monkey King was responding in a way that was describing you, was evidence enough. It was cute and amusing to see the legendary Monkey King so awkward and flustered that he needed the help of his successor though.

But, your first date was great. You could've sworn MK and Wukong's monkeys were helping him behind the scenes, but they never directly interfered or showed up. Either way, your second date was definitely something Wukong himself set up without MK's or the other monkey's influence, which you appreciated a lot.

However, your monkey boyfriend became a lot more bold in your relationship over time. He turned from awkward and nervous to the horny equivalent of his lip bite meme pictures... Beware of his bad pick-up lines and other advances, because those were the only things that really made MK regret helping him...

"Hey there, beautiful. Are you a peach? Because I want to get a taste of you-"

"Oh my god, Wukong."

"Whaaaat? I just love and a-peach-iate you, babe-"

> Masterlist <

#lmk x reader #sun wukong x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk sun wukong x reader #lego monkie kid #monkey king x reader #lmk sun wukong #wukong x reader #i need sleep gn8 #will add to masterlist tmrw #lmk mk #fluff

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bo0tleg · 2 months

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GEMS MY FRIEND SAID WATCHING 'TOP GUN: MAVERICK' FOR THE FIRST TIME:

"The jacket! The famous jacket that pulls women, pulls men, pulls the world!"

"Oh look how hot~ he looks on that motorcicle. He's even pracing his ass!"

(Maverick, on screen: "Well... He's not here yet.") The mans madness has begun."

"MAVERICK DON'T DIE YOU STILL NEED TO HAVE YOUR GAY ROMANCE!"

"He lasted two months at Top Gun? HA. He probably was a bigger piece of work than the students."

"From what I can tell, Maverick tamed Iceman. In the first one he was the little annoying bitch and Maverick saw a challenge."

"I mean, at least these two (Penny and Mav) have chemistry. They hooked up in a plane, after all."

"Iceman solves his problems, Iceman keeps his job, what a simp. That's dog behavior."

"Maverick doesn't look likes he's flirting with her, he's just confused. His confused face looks like his flirting face, and people assume. I know this because people do it to me."

"Yeah, he's kinda like that one Olívia Rodrigo song that she gets confused when she sees her ex... What was it again?" ('bad Idea right?' by Olivia Rodrigo)

"I like him (Bob)! He's pathetic like me!"

"Oooohhh they're (Phoenix and Bob) gonna be besties! I can feel it."

(When Phoenix racks Rooster with the cue) "OHOHOHOOOO I LIKE HER ALREADY."

(Didn't notice Hangman taking Bob's cue, I relayed the information) "Aaaahhh don't steal Bob's cue. Bob's cool, Bob's nice."

(After rewinding the scene) "NO, NO, NO! WHO IS THAT? NOBODY CAN STEAL BOB'S CUE! I don't like him (Hangman)."

(Hangman, on screen: Bradshaw! As I live and breathe!) *Slowly turns towards me with dead eyes*

"That's not enemies to lovers, that's just enemies."

"With just this scene, I can tell this guy (Hangman) comes and goes. 'Sometimes I flirt with you, sometimes I hate you.' He's like a tsudere."

"Oh, got it. Phoenix is adopted into the man's group. She's a bro."

"I wouldn't say that they're his support system, but those two are the people that know him the best. Hangman is paying attention because he wants to be the best and needs to defeat Rooster. Phoenix is demonstrating a more sibling like worry."

"Hondo is like Mavericks babysitter."

"Oh. Oh, now Mav's flirting with her."

(Following the 'Baby on Board' comment) "Don't talk shit about Bob! I don't like Hangman."

"Maverick is like a step father to Rooster. Not in the 'HAHA I FUCKED YOUR MOM' kind of way, but in the way that he helped raise him."

"Where is Iceman? I'm here for the two of them, I don't give a fuck about Aeronautics."

"I think Ice and Maverick had a long relationship, but they're not together anymore. They maintained a friendship, but their lives probably went in different directions. I'd say they were together for 10, maybe 20 years."

('I ain't worried' by OneRepublic starts playing) "This song is from 2022? OH MY GOD THE SCENE"

"DON'T PLAY AROUND WITH GRANDPA!"

*Started chanting "BOB! BOB! BOB!" When he got picked up*

*Eeriely quiet during the bird strike, until Maverick starts talking to Rooster* "OH THEY'RE NOT DEAD. THEY COULDN'T HAVE KILLED BOB! IF THEY KILLED BOB I WOULD STOP AND NEVER WATCH TOP GUN EVER AGAIN!"

"Definitely 20 years. Ice is probably the only person Mav actually loved. Like, not a fling?" "Yeah, probably." "He's been with lots of women, and men, but Iceman is the only person he was ever in love with– maybe still is."

"I think his (Ice's) wife knows. That's probably why she recognizes Mav and is kind of friends with him." "That's probably why she just let him go up to see Ice." "YEAH GO AHEAD, FUCK MY HUSBAND!"

"It's pretty easy to notice that Snowman– No, ICEman."

"That is the face of a man who just lost the love of his life."

"Damn, the mans a beast. If It was me I'd already have cried, alone, in a room absolutely destroyed, never to come out again."

"He's got nobody, dude! I just want his step child to come back, because If he doesn't that man's gonna kill himself!"

"Why does it always have to have a romantic ending. Just leave him with his adoptive son. Go away."

"They (Penny and Mav) aren't going to end up together."

"I have a theory! Fanboy is obsessed with women! Cus he's 'Fanboy'." "But wouldn't he be called Simp, then?" "Ah, then he's obsessed with men." "... simp can be for men too."

"There's gonna be a Top Gun Three? Who's it gonna be about? It ain't gonna be Maverick, that man has a foot in the grave already."

"Bob is my favorite in the second movie. I have no favorites in the first one because everybody is very macho and very gay, and that's boring."

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rwby-encrusted-blog · 9 months

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She Wants her Grandbabies, Jaune.

Mama Arc: Jaune? My sweet baby boy?

Jaune: (OH GOD. She called me 'Sweet baby Boy') Y-yes Mom?

Mama Arc: You stole the Family sword, and ran away from home! You're on a team with some of the most powerful and beautiful Huntresses-in-training in the world! Why do I not have granchildren yet!

Jaune: Because you never trained me, they were the first- Wait, What?

Mama Arc: Where are my grandkids! The Leader of your sister team is adorable, The blonde one is smoking hot, I know Blakes mom and we both agree the two of you would have the most adorable kittens-

Jaune: Hold on-

Mama Arc: Schnee is hella rich! Pyrrha Nikos is Pyrrha FUCKING Nikos! Hammer Wielder is short-stacked to high hell!

Jaune: Mom, what the hell are you talking about!

Mama Arc: And the Green one can cook! She looks so svelte, but tall and built! She'd be perfect for you!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Mom, Ren's a boy.

Mama Arc: *Studying a picture of Ren* ...

Mama Arc: Adoption!

Jaune: Look, even if I wanted to, Ruby only see me as a friend, Yang and Blake are dating, I already blew it with Weiss, Why the Hell would Pyrrha date me - Also don't call her "Pyrrha Fucking Nikos" Or she will put you through a wall - And Nora and Ren are together.

Mama Arc: Being couples never stopped anyone! Just ask Team STRQ! They were a whole thing!

Jaune: Look, none of them want to date me, just drop it for now.

Mama Arc: I want my grandbabies JAUNE!

#rwby #jaune arc #rwby shitpost #mama arc

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fastcardotmp3 · 1 year

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thinking about Max and the Munson's living across the way from each other post s3 again, but maybe specifically Max living across the way from Wayne post s3.

Wayne Munson knows what a kid looks like when they hide behind well practiced and carefully crafted defense mechanisms, after all, and he recognizes a kid with too much responsibility on their shoulders.

He sees this teenage girl with the pigtails and the hard eyes who doesn't answer the door when her friends come to call even though Wayne saw her sitting on the porch twenty minutes ago; who is always the one bringing groceries home on foot even when her mom's car is there; whose bedroom light is too frequently on when Wayne gets home before the sun even has the chance to think about rising.

And he's not gonna overstep about it, he has no intention of making this girl uncomfortable because he is a stranger to her and he knows how both he and Eddie look on a first glance, wouldn't blame her for not being entirely trusting, but he keeps an eye out for her anyway.

Tells Eddie too-- "She's home alone a lot, you make sure no one tries takin' advantage, hear?"-- even if Eddie is mostly preoccupied with his own shit most of the time, because if Wayne can recognize a kid hiding, a kid carrying too much around on that skateboard of hers, then Eddie certainly can too.

"You adopting another stray, old man?" is Eddie's response, but he glances out through the blinds at the trailer across the way with a heaviness to his shoulders in understanding at the sight of that girl sitting on the porch with her headphones on and a school book in her lap that she's decidedly not paying any attention.

"Something like that," Wayne claps him on the shoulder, squeezes as he passes by, but he doesn't think anything will really come of it.

There's not much they can do except keep an eye out, carry the Mayfields' paper up to the porch on rainy days so it won't get soggy and unreadable, offer a wave and a kind word and a reminder that "if your Mama ain't home and you need something, you just give us a knock," despite the brush off he gets every time.

And then one night-- one morning really, before the sun is about to rise-- Wayne pulls up at home after his shift to find Eddie standing out in the snow, odd enough in and of itself made odder by the fact he isn't alone.

"--don't know what you think you're gonna accomplish here at four in the goddamned morning, Harrington, but--"

"I mean, that doesn't feel like any of your business."

"You're parked outside my home, yeah it's my business," Eddie gestures broadly at the unfamiliar BMW the two of them are standing next to as Wayne clambers out of his own truck on tired legs and overworked shoulders.

He needs a hot shower, a good, long sleep.

But Eddie is getting in this other kid's face and it's--

"I'm parked outside that home," Harrington, big coat and gloves but thin pajama pants poking out underneath it all, points at the Mayfield trailer with exhausted exasperation and something tinged with a bit more urgency too, "and I don't know you, man, nothing I do is any of your business--"

"Steve come in-- do you have visual yet, over?"

"Jesus Christ," Harrington reaches into the front seat of his car, yanks out a radio that has Wayne's eyebrows shooting up even as he approaches them, the impatient and anxious shift of Eddie's untied sneakers in the December slush. "Gimme a minute," he says into the walkie-talkie, "I told you I'd call when I did."

"Yeah, but it only takes you ten minutes to drive to her place and--"

Harrington shoves the antenna down and shuts the thing off, just as Wayne finally stops beside his nephew with a hand at his elbow.

"Everything alright here, boys?"

Wayne knows his kid, is the thing, so he knows the protective tension in the cross of those arms, the furrow of his brow, knows that Eddie is maybe seeing himself in Max Mayfield a little too fully on this night, dragged out of his bed by god only knows what to argue with a Harrington in the brisk wind of winter.

And Wayne knows his kid, so he recognizes the work of his jaw when he's about to burst out into a spiel to make himself the target instead of whoever he's put behind him this time around, but he doesn't get the chance to start before he's being interrupted.

"Steve, why are you harassing my neighbors."

Flat and unimpressed but shaky around the edges like she's not quite getting enough air, the orange glow of the light inside her trailer spilling out past her into the blue of night as Steve Harrington's legs all but give out with a breath of--

"Oh, thank god," he shuts the door to his car behind him as he takes a few steps closer to him, Eddie trailing like he's ready to literally put his body between them instead of just figuratively, "are you okay?"

"I'm not the one driving around town in the middle of the night, what are you doing here?" she crosses her arms, doesn't leave the cracked doorway at the top of the steps and Harrington doesn't try to climb them either.

And then it's a quick, well-punctuated punch of a conversation in which Wayne feels like he's missing about half the facts, standing by nonetheless.

"Lucas walkied."

"I told him I was fine."

"You called him at three A.M. and hung up on him without explanation," Steve points out surprisingly levelly.

"Yeah. After I told him I was fine."

"Max."

"I thought I wanted to talk about it and changed my mind."

"You know he'd listen."

"I can't-- you know I can't--"

"Yes you can."

"Not about him. Not to Lucas."

"To me, then," Steve throws his hands up in exasperation, and Wayne can feel something crackling in the air.

It's the same thing that had been there the first handful of times Eddie had picked a fight with Wayne after he first moved to Hawkins, looking for the line, looking for how far he could go before it all went to shit again.

Wayne knows this girl, even if he doesn't know her, because years ago he'd brought a boy with a buzzcut for a visit and he'd never left.

Which is maybe why he speaks up even though he knows how that boy would've reacted.

"If you need something, kiddo..."

"I need everyone to leave me alone," she snaps, striding out all the way onto the porch, only the bravado of it falters when the door slams shut behind her and she all but jumps out of her skin. "Fuck. God, shit, that door--"

She opens it again, yanks it nearly off its hinges just to slam it once more like she's trying to break the thing.

And now she's definitely not getting enough air. Now she's--

"Max, hey, alright--"

"Buddy, I dunno--"

"Back off, Munson, this is really not your business," Harrington shoves past Eddie and strides up the steps as Max slumps down onto the top one, arms wrapped around herself and Eddie looks ready to fight but Wayne just.

He doesn't know Steve Harrington, doesn't even really know his family beyond the way of small towns and knowing names and the neighborhoods in which they reside, but he knows a kid in distress leaning towards safety even if they don't believe they deserve it and Max Mayfield is leaning towards him.

Not Wayne, not Eddie, but this kid with the walkie-talkie and-- is he wearing two different shoes?

Wayne waits the compulsory moment to see Max really fall apart, right there into the fabric of Steve's coat as she keeps her hands tucked under her arms but catches her breath with that one point of contact-- forehead to shoulder-- as Steve speaks gently, words getting caught in the wind. As she stutters out rattling feelings right back.

"The door slammed when she left for work and I-- thought he was-- back again-- I thought-- and I shouldn't've-- not Lucas-- not for, for this--"

Wayne crosses the distance between him and Eddie, hand on his shoulder dragging him out of his own head, wherever it is he goes when his gaze goes glassy and tired like it does now in the gray glow of this place as the snow starts up again.

"You did good," Wayne murmurs, tugging Eddie back towards their own home, just across the way. "Good job, Ed, she's gonna be okay."

"She's..." Eddie clears his throat, looks so much younger than he is for a moment.

"Being looked after," Wayne says with a certainty he wouldn't have felt about the matter a day ago, Eddie following him listlessly back up the steps to the unlocked front door. "You did good."

"I didn't do anything," Eddie frowns, the pink of his cheeks and his nose practically glowing once they're inside.

"You showed her you've got her back," Wayne tells him without room for argument, pulling off his winter coat and moving to heat up water on the stove even as Eddie peeks through the curtains again, seemingly unable to accept that nothing bad is going to happen tonight.

Wayne can't be sure what put him in this state of mind, how he even got alerted to Harrington's arrival in the first place, but he knows he'll find his way back to solid ground soon enough.

Hot tea and warm clothes, when Wayne pulls Eddie away from the window, he catches sight of Steve speaking into the walkie with one hand and holding Max to rest against his shoulder with the other.

He'll make sure they get out of the cold before he goes to bed, but for now he has his own kid to sit with in the ghosts of past hauntings brought back to life for the night.

"We gotta keep an eye out for her," Eddie mutters as he accepts the mug Wayne hands him, feet tucked up under a blanket on the couch.

Wayne sits down next to him and props his tired feet up on the coffee table with a heavy breath.

"We will," he says, because he knows there's no discouraging Eddie now.

The kid learned his habit for picking up strays from somewhere, after all.

#dot post #dot fic #this was a three sentence thought that turned into 'oh wait I have feelings to share' so whoops #eddie munson #wayne munson #max mayfield #steve harrington #tw implied child abuse #I entered this fandom having feelings about max and eddie bonding and here I remain

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lowkeyrobin · 27 days

Note

Platonic Phoebe and Trevor x Gary Grooberson’s teen kid reader and adjusting to being stepsiblings?

OH MY GOD YES BRO RJSKDMSNSN ; I did my best pls bare w this 💀💀💀

SPENGLER SIBLINGS ; stepsiblings

summary ; youre Gary's kid and you have to adjust with two new stepsiblings

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; your mom is nonexistent/Gary adopted you. it's not a topic brought up at all I don't think but you can choose, ik some people don't like kid of ___ reader or ____ sibling reader so beware lol, takes place between afterlife and frozen empire so no spoilers for anyone who hasn't watched gbfe yet, reader can drive/is around Trevor's age

word count ; 675

masterlist

it's so awkward at first

especially since you've never had siblings before so it's like they're teenage roommates

like okay your parents are dating or whatever but like, ew?

except you're living with them, not the other way around

both gary and callie are trying to urge you to interact but it's just not happening

you're not really a ghostbuster either, you aren't smart in the sciences and aren't into the whole ghost thing anyways

you're more into traditional ghosts anyways, not the ones that show up in broad daylight and need to be trapped by proton barriers

it's very rough at first

you connect with phoebe first, as a once in a blue moon experience happened, she wanted to act like a normal 14yo and go get ice cream

Callie couldn't take her because she was busy helping trevor with work stuff and told her to ask you

she was like 🤨 and like... "okay?-"

she asks and you look at her like 🤨😊

you guys go get ice cream and she tells you all about the shit you pass on the way there and back home

you surprisingly end up bonding over the struggle of talking to others like normal people and being well reserved with little to no friends

then comes the bonding over a certain book you both liked

the whole car ride home is oasis on the radio and chatter about this book, and going the longest possible way home because you didn't want this bonding moment to end

you sat in the car after phoebe got out, just sitting in silence

you were kind of in awe yet saddened the moment had ended because you were bonding so well

after that she clearly sees you in a new light and looks to you for your wisdom and clear view of the world when she's wrapped in her own madness and needs untangled

you were the trusting older sibling she needed since trevor never really understood the proper being there for your sister thing

they're proper siblings and whatnot but it's not like they go to each other if it's not to shit talk people

you're like their mediator and therapist sibling

getting through to trevor was much harder

you ended up finding him a job and he was like 🤨😒 when you showed him

"oh- uhm, sorry. I was just trying to be nice" and you quickly scramble away

he's just confused cause like ??? you never talked, he didn't even know how you knew he was looking for a job

he comes into your room a couple hours later like "Hey sorry I acted all weird, thanks"

and that's it

bonding with him is so hard, and Gary and Callie are like "okay go fucking do something"

you're all (spengler-groobersons + podcast bc phoebe needed a friend her age) out at an amusement park, and these mfs ditched yall at the carousel next to the bathrooms

and they weren't picking up their phones

you were basically forced to interact now, which was much less awkward in an amusement park

you guys ride some rides and get some food as you frequently call your parents

you finally find them, phew

but you two obviously made a little friendship and had fun together

took a little longer to get used to each other but you're fine now

awkward teenager shit yk?

in general, the three of you now are super close

trevor is your hype man when it comes to talking to people or doing something out of your comfort zone

phoebe is your hype man when you talk to her about maybe wanting to be a ghostbuster / study ghosts

you're the driver for the three of you, callie doesn't trust Trevor with driving, considering how he was driving the ecto1 when he first got it usable again, and obviously, phoebe can't drive

after a few years you're basically just like normal siblings

you three have a sibling group chat and it's 90% you sending memes, Trevor sending random tik tok links and phoebe begging you two to stop blowing up her phone

spenglerson siblings 🔛🔝

#lowkeyrobin #ghostbusters frozen empire #ghostbusters afterlife #ghostbusters x reader #trevor spengler x reader #trevor spengler #spengler siblings #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #phoebe spengler #phoebe spengler x reader

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torukmaktoskxawng · 11 months

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Headcanons if Avatar!Grace lived and raised Kiri alongside the Sullys and adopted Spider:

"Jake Sully, I know damn well that you didn't just ground your son for recklessness! 'You wanna hear about reckless? How about the time you taunted a baby hammerhead titanothere and its mother before being chased into the jungle by a Thanator like the asshat you are."

Spider is depressed because Neytiri has yet to warm up to him. Grace gathers him up like he's still a baby and since she's a Na'vi and he's a human, it's so easy to do: "Give her some time, kiddo. Neytiri has lost more than most to the Sky People. In the meantime, go find your sister. I think she's been wanting to show you her newest verse in her songcord."

"Neteyam, sometimes you gotta just ignore your father. He's a jarhead. No. I'm not telling you what that means."

Kiri when she's vocal about her insecurities and how she feels different from everyone else. Grace silently listens before saying: "You hear Eywa? Normally, I would call you crazy from a scientist's perspective... but after what Eywa has done for me... After she saved all that I am in this body while the human one died, and after she gave me you, I don't think it sounds as crazy anymore. You're a miracle, baby. My sweet little miracle. You and your brother are so special, and any moron who says otherwise must have a death wish."

Ever watch Once Upon a Time? Remember this scene between Regina and Emma? ⤵️

Quaritch: He's my son-!

Grace: HE'S NOT, HE'S MINE!

"Jake, Lo'ak came to me traumatized because he walked in on you and Neytiri."

Jake: It was an accident. But at the same time, he can't just walk in without announcing himself.

"No? Huh. That's funny. Hey, I think Norm should go talk to your son about the time you wheeled in on him and Trudy--"

Speaking of Norm, Grace has a hard time being able to fit herself in their portable biolab due to the size so Norm and Max build a large greenhouse and lab meant for Grace's new height difference. They can't change the fact that the microscopes are still too small for her hands, however.

"If my hands weren't capable of crushing the damn thing I would've done it myself instead of letting you idiots tamper the samples with your saliva AGAIN."

She still teaches all the village kids how to speak English among other human customs. A new school is built in the mountains and Tuk is her best student, obviously.

Grace vocally admits she prefers Jake in a wheelchair because he was easier to push around. To which Jake responds: "Woman, you know damn well you still push me around."

Here's some more angst: Kiri and Spider are arguing and I believe this scene comes from the live action Mowgli movie:

Kiri: You're my best friend, Spider. I understand what it's like for no one to want you. I don't have any friends neither. But we have each other and we're like the same--

Spider: We're not the same.

Kiri: We are. Because- you're special, and I'm special--

Spider: WE'RE NOT SPECIAL! Don't you get it?! We'll never be one of them! We're freaks! You're not special, Kiri! It's just something Mom tells you to make you feel better about yourself BECAUSE YOU CAME OUT WRONG!

(Side note: Wow. I just made myself cry.)

Grace would be beside herself. She's trying to comfort Kiri after the fight and trying to figure out what to do with Spider. She knows she should ground him, but at the same time, she knows where he's coming from and why he finally snapped. With Quaritch hunting them and likely trying to take Spider back, the boy is beyond stressed on top of still trying to fit in.

Lo'ak ended up being the one who got Kiri and Spider to make up after giving each other the silent treatment for a week. Lo'ak understood them better than Grace ever could.

Grace, with Rotxo, probably: If you break my daughter's heart, then I'll break your tail.

Jake is trying to get his whole family to behave alongside the Metkayina so that they could stay there and not get kicked out. He didn't realize he'll have to make GRACE AUGUSTINE behave on top of that.

Ronal and Grace have MAD respect for each other you can't convince me otherwise.

I NEED to see Avatar!Grace riding a skimwing with the brightest smile on her face that would be so amazing.

Tsireya buddies up to her immediately, sticking to her side like glue and asking a hundred questions, usually followed by "Can I take Kiri and Spider swimming?"

Ao'nung keeps a good several feet between himself and Grace. He's suspicious and she straightens him out with one glare, ESPECIALLY after he bullied her kids around for being freaks.

Grace even got Tonowari to laugh when she came dragging his son home by the ear for talking rudely to her.

Grace is like a second mom to Neytiri when they're so far away from home.

And finally:

"I'm too old for this bullshit."

Please reblog and add your own headcanons! I need more Grace

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vypridae · 14 days

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Velvette seeing Vaggie hanging around and going ah shit another kid to get to like me is hilarious to me. Cause imagine if she goes to Carmilla like Why didn't you tell me you had a third kid?!? And Carmilla is like "??I don't? I have Odette and Clara. That's two." And then Vaggie comes in and Carmilla smiles at her and is all "Vaggie! How are you? How's your day? Do you plan to join us for dinner tonight?" In the same tone she uses for Clara and Odette and Velvette is just....staring at her like Yeah she's not your kid my ass....

Clara to Velvette quietly: I don't think Mom knows she's adopted a kid yet. We have a bet on when she'll figure it out.

Velvette: Considering it took two years and seven misunderstandings for her to realize I was trying to court her and not one of you two? We'll be waiting a while.

LMAAOOAGOADHFOA OH I LOVE THIS ACTUALLY, velvette, odette and clara trying to convince carmilla she DID in fact adopt another child accidentally . i feel like vaggie would bond with velvette only over that fact; that it took/is taking FOREVER for carmilla to realize something about a relationship with someone (realizing she adopted vaggie/realizing velvette was courting her)

odette and clara make bets on if carmilla will realize she adopted a kid every other week. clara has yet to win one

#xanbox #hazbin hotel #brokerdoll #velvette #carmilla carmine #odette carmine #clara carmine #vaggie

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aokoaoi · 1 year

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Hi, I love your writing! I would like to request a sully family x adopted daughter reader where she is sad since she misses home but doesn't let anybody see that she is sad?

— pairings : sully family x fem!adopted!reader.

— warnings : avatar the way of water spoilers. more like fluff then angst.

— author's note : Tuktirey and mama Neytiri fluff coming through<3. very short, but i wanted it to end with ma neytiri being the best mom🤞

You watched your siblings play in the water with the Metkayina siblings as they learned of their ways. You were just sat on the woven material of the Marui, a material that acted as a 'blanket' that your friends from back home weaved draped over your lap.

Tuktirey nears you, panting heavily as she tugs on your tail softly. She wipes off the water that irritated her face, giving you her signature big smile. "Come on, (name)! Swim with us!" She cheers.

At her sentence, the attention of your brothers and the two Metkayina siblings was caught. "Yeah, sis!" Lo'ak splashed around the water childishly, accidentally splashing on Tsireya in the process.

"What? Do you not know how to swim?" Ao'nung questions, getting on your nerves. Tsireya gives him a scolding glare, and then turns to you with a sweet smile.

"Come with us, (name), I will be teaching you if you have any problems." She states, looking up at you as your face scrunched up.

"I– i don't know, I think it's just best if I stay here."

Neteyam shakes his head, his braids moving at his actions. "Father will be mad if he learns you didn't spend the day learning, sister. He's gonna give you one of his big lectures again." He says, stating the obvious.

You blew raspberries, making Tuktirey giggle. Groaning, you stood up from your sitting position and went back to the direction of your home.

Neteyam pursed his lips as Tuk whined at you as you walked away. Tsireya looks at Lo'ak with a confused face, slightly worried for you. "Will she not be joining us? Maybe something is bothering her." She asks out of concern.

Lo'ak was about to respond to her despite not knowing why as well, before he heard the sound of loud thudding footsteps. The rest turns to see you jump in their direction, leaving them to scramble away as you jumped recklessly into the water.

Neteyam and Tuktirey cheers as you did so while you hurriedly went up the water to come up for air. "Yay! You did it!" Tuktirey praises, swimming towards you and wrapping her legs around your waist as she clung onto you like a koala.

You chuckled, "I haven't even done anything yet."

"Yeah, but you joined us." Lo'ak gently hits the back of your head, and you hissed at him playfully. Tsireya smiles at the scene as Ao'nung tried his best not to role his eyes.

"Come now, you four have still lots to learn!"

"Four?" You questioned, tilting your head. "Where's Kiri?"

"Not again."

"Again?" You exclaimed incredulously, looking at Neteyam with wide eyes. What does he mean again?

"Don't worry guys, Kiri is right here!" Your group hears a voice from a distance. You turn to see a boy frantically waving his hands in the air as kiri laughed at him, and you sighed in relief.

"Keep an eye on that girl, why don't you?" You clicked your tongue and Neteyam, and he playfully salutes at your orders.

The sound of knife chopping on your families dinner ingredients filled the silence as you helped your mother with preparing. You have been drained from earliers activities, and your muscles were definitely sore.

You were thankful Tsireya was patient with you when her brother wasn't, or else you would've given up right then and there. You appreciated the girl, and you had taken a liking towards her. She was definitely good in teaching, her words and examples were well, but you had wished she told you about the pressures of the water when you rode your first Ilu.

Thankfully you weren't embarrassed like how your brother was.. you felt bad for him though.

Your mother, Neytitri noticed your unusual silence and stopped her chopping, looking at you suspiciously. "Is there something the matter, child?" She questioned, hiding her concern.

You let out a sigh, your harsh and hasty knife chopping slightly faltering at her acknowledgement. "I miss our home, ma." You told her, after a few beats of silence.

Your mother let's out a deep exhale, moving towards you to comfortingly rub circles on your back. Your shoulders slumped at her actions, finding her ways of reassurance nice. "I know, ma dear. But you know your father's intentions, you of all your siblings would understand." She says in a low voice.

"At least Tuk is enjoying it here." You blew raspberries, going back to chopping. Neytiri fondly smiles at your words, her hand switched from your back and on to your shoulder.

"What do you miss of our home?" She questioned.

And without missing a beat, you answered. "Everything." You said. You glanced at her, eyeing her reactions.

"It's gonna be hard to adjust for now, ma dear. But I promise you, you're going to fit just right in." Your mother spoke, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. You softly smiled at her, leaning your head on her chest. Her hand holds you there, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as she comforts you.

At the corner of her eye, she sees a tall blue figure standing at the opening of there house. She turns to see her husband looking at them fondly, and she smiles at him.

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 6 months

Text

Bisexual. Bisexual. Bisexual. Bisexual!

It was the only word that was now bouncing around in Eddie Munson's brain. Steve had come out several minutes ago along with Robin, and they had long since moved on to playing Rocky Horror Picture show. The characters danced around in front of him, along with the word bouncing around in his head, in time with the music. Steve was saying how hot Tim Curry was, and suddenly Eddie imagined putting on the outfit himself. He imagined Steve saying that about him as he ran his hand up his thigh. Eddie shrieked.

"Pause! I have to make a phone call!" Eddie exclaimed, jumping up.

It was like all the lights in his head turned on, and there was this little man standing standing next to a projector as he showed Eddie all of the things that he had suppressed.

"Are you okay, Eddie?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, can I use your phone?" Eddie exclaimed.

"Sure, man," Steve said.

Eddie rushed into the kitchen and grabbed the phone. He dialed the familiar number pretty quickly and waited impatiently as the phone rang. A few rings later, and Ronnie answered the phone.

"Hey, Ronnie," Eddie said.

"What did you do now? Your voice sounds pretty high," Ronnie said.

"Nothing, Jesus," Eddie said rolling his eyes.

"You haven't been accused of murder again, have you?" Ronnie asked.

"No!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Yeah, you still haven't told me exactly what happened," Ronnie said.

"And I'm still not going to," Eddie sighed. "This isn't why I called. Do you know David Bowie?"

"Do I know him personally? No," Ronnie said. "Do I know of him? Yes."

"Ugh, you sarcastic shit. I think I'm like Bowie," Eddie said and groaned. "Ugh, I had that word in my head, but I think it fell out. . . Bisexual! Yes, that."

"Oh. Wow," Ronnie said and paused. "Would it annoy you to know that I kind of already figured that out a long time ago?"

"What? How?!" He asked.

"Oh, you were obvious even if you didn't know that you were being obvious," she said.

"Well, you could have given me a heads up, Ronnie," Eddie said.

"Oh, yeah, no. This was something that you needed to figure out for yourself," she said, and she paused. "Thanks for telling me."

"You're my best friend, Ronnie. You should be the first one to know about anything big like that," Eddie said. "Which apparently you already knew about."

"And yet, I still don't know what happened over spring break," she said. "Which is fine. By the way, even if I didn't know before I left, I would have known immediately when you made the call from the hospital and ranted about Steve Harrington's strong arms."

"Jesus, don't remind me," Eddie blushed. "I was high on pain meds."

"By the way, when I called before, it was Steve who answered. I like him. I approve of you and him raising that orphaned child together," Ronnie said. "He wouldn't shut up about you or what you're like with that kid. Jesus, why didn't you tell me you adopted a child with a man?"

"His name is Dustin, and he has a mom," Eddie rolled his eyes.

"I definitely like him better than Paige," Ronnie said.

"Would you give it a rest about Paige?" Eddie rolled his eyes.

"I still don't think she ever had a deal in place to begin with. You would have gone to LA, and there would have been no audition," Ronnie said.

"I'm hanging up now," Eddie sighed, the corners of his mouth lifted up.

"Good luck," Ronnie said, and Eddie hung up the phone.

Eddie walked into back into the living room where Steve and Robin were whispering amongst themselves.

"Everything alright?" Steve asked as Eddie sat back on the couch.

"Yeah, apparently I'm bisexual and I've always been like that. I just didn't know it," Eddie shrugged.

"What? Are you telling me you just had a crisis? Did you just go double-check?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, a little crisis, but I'm good now," Eddie said. "I called Ronnie."

"Ronnie?" Robin asked.

"Eddie's Robin," Steve explained.

"You have a Robin?" She asked.

"No, a Ronnie," Eddie corrected, and she rolled her eyes.

"So, you realized it just a few minutes ago?" Steve asked as he leaned over Robin.

"Yeah, after you guys came out, then when Tim Curry came on and then again when you called him hot. All I kept thinking about was how I wished you were calling me hot," Eddie rolled his eyes.

"Time for us to switch places," Robin grinned.

Steve and Robin swapped, so now Steve was sitting close to Eddie. He put his arm on the couch behind Eddie.

"Eddie," Steve said softly, and Eddie turned to face him. "You are very hot. Hotter than Tim Curry. You would look absolutely sinful in that outfit."

He leaned forward and kissed Eddie gently. Eddie kissed him back before Steve broke the kiss. He leaned back against the couch and pulled Eddie against his side, wrapping his arm around his shoulders.

"If Vickie wasn't working tonight, then this could be a double date," Robin said.

"Next time," Eddie grinned.

"Welcome to the club, Eddie," Robin said.

"Thanks," Eddie said softly.

Eddie relaxed into Steve’s arms, turning sideways and burrowing his head into Steve’s neck while throwing his arm across his stomach. The puzzle that was his life felt a little more complete now.

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my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction · 2 months

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Gojo satoru x F!reader fic in which you and Megumi interact after his "adoption"

You guys I know Gojo's more like a mentor to Megumi in cannon, but pls pls pls just let me have this, I'll give you good vibes for a week if you do 😭 Also, Satoru is more like a side character in this one, sorry babes.

Warnings: Slight innuendo, some cursing, good feels

The walk home with Gojo was...interesting. No, scratch that. Annoying. Megumi could do nothing but listen to him talk and talk and talk, to the point that he wished he was getting sold to the Zenin clan.

"Man, you're boring for a 1st grader, huh? What are you, like 8?"

"I'm 6."

"Rightttt....most serious 6-year old I've ever met."

coming from him? Megumi liked that. Whoever Gojo found entertaining had to be crazy.

"You know, my usagi-chan is gonna looove to meet you,"

"Usagi-chan?" He stretched out the pet name, a confused and judgmental tone in his voice. What kind of parent names their kid "little bunny"?

Gojo beamed, holding his hand out and counting on his fingers all the things he liked about you. "Oh yeah, She's great! She's smart, and funny, and she's a great cook, and a really strong sorcerer, and..."

Megumi tuned him out. It was bad enough, dealing with this guy, now there were going to be two of you? He dreaded what the rest of his life would look like.

Gojo was still talking as they walked up the final steps to Jujitsu tech, making their way to the dormitories, only shutting up for a moment when he opened the door to Megumi's new room.

You were there, setting a bouquet of carnations in a vase and angling it perfectly on Megumi's new night stand. The second you realized they arrived, you nervously turned around and smiled sweetly. "Hi! You must be Toj- uh, Megumi Fushiguro!"

"Toji's son" sounded a little demeaning to you.

Megumi nodded, seeming to be examining your face, trying to get a read on you. "I'm (y/n), It's great to meet you...I was going to make lunch, but then I realized I don't even know what you like...so how about when you're settled you can tell me what you like and I'll make it for dinner?" So Usagi-chan wasn't your real name...

"Can you even cook," Megumi asked, the first thing he's ever said to you, his little voice mature sounding for a kid his age.

You giggled, his bluntness making you relax a little at how amusing it was. "Well, he thinks I can," you laughed, pointing at Gojo, who has now made his way over to be next to you, "But he thinks I'm good at everything, so how about you try it and find out?"

Megumi hesitantly nodded, satisfied with your answer, and plops his backpack on the ground. He's decided he likes you.

You made pork gyoza for him that night, some of the best gyoza he's ever had, yet to be matched in his mind. As time went on, Megumi came to realize that you and Gojo filled entirely different roles. While Satoru lived in the dorm right next to Megumi's, Megumi saw a lot more of you than him, even though you worked at the Kyoto sister school.

You came over every day, eating dinner with him and shoveling big portions on his plate because he was "a growing boy", helping him with his homework, listening to his problems, attending his elementary and middle school graduations. At first, Gojo really only interacted with him to train every weekend, to bring him up to his level, but as you took a more parental role, so did he.

Of course, neither of you wanted to be called mom or dad, and Megumi didn't want that either, so he just called you by either your names or "sensei" when being educated. That said, you and Satoru always joked with each other about being teen parents, lamenting the fact that you "got the kid without any of the fun." The very implication of you two doing that always made Megumi gag.

Speaking of that, having the talk with him was surprisingly easy for you and Satoru, disgustingly easy in Megumi's 12 year old eyes, and although at the time he never intended on putting the information to use, it was still good to have.

You were always patient with him, staying gentle during his angsty middle school years, and eventually helping him train even more once he entered high school. You even insisted he danced with you at your wedding, stating that you needed "at least one dance with a gentleman."

All of this said, none of the other first years in the Tokyo school even knew of your existence until the good will event. You showed up with your students, The first person you greeted being Maki. Despite being Mai's teacher, Maki loved you. You were just so...bubbly.

"Maki! Ugh, it's been forever since I've seen you," you squeal, bringing her into a tight hug. You greet Toge and Panda respectively, Before rushing over to your now husband and dramatically swooning into his arms. "Oh, Satoru," You sigh, the back of your hand resting delicately on your forehead. "Ah, Usagi-chan, How I've missed you in the time we've been apart," he sighed, holding you by your waist and the nape of your neck. The sight was completely cringe-worthy, but it was funny to you two and that was all that mattered.

The two of you kissed, much to the confusion of Nobara and Yuji. You opened your eyes, peaking at their faces, and quickly sprung out of the arms of your beloved husband.

"You never told me how adorable your first years are," You giggled, taking Itadori's face in your hand and examining it. You didn't release him as you turned back to Gojo, calling out, "This is the vessel, right?" Satoru nodded, saying, "That's him," proudly. Yuji finally spoke up while Nobara laughed at the sight, asking, "Uhhhh...who are you?"

You pulled back, posing a little and responding with, "I'm (Y/n) (L/n), Satoru's wife!" You never took his last name, seeing as just being connected to the Gojo clan made you a bigger target than you already were. Nobara and Itadori's eyes lit up, both of them shouting, "Tell us everything!"

You would have been happy to, but you saw Megumi out of the corner of your eye. "Ah, Megumi!" You zoomed over, hugging him so tightly his bones might crack. "I've been meaning to ask, what do you want for dinners this week?"

Nobara and itadori got even more excited, you being the best source of information on their closed off friend and surprisingly mysterious teacher.

"I don't care..." Megumi sighed, blushing a little at how open you were about all this. "Maybe Gyoza," he muttered.

Ok, you could be a little annoying sometimes, but that's how all mothers caregivers were. He wasn't mad, even when you invited Itadori and Nobara over for dinner after the event, or spilled all of the details (except for the ones not even Megumi knows) about your life with Megumi and Satoru. He was ok with this, albeit a little peeved, because at the end of the day you cared for him in a way he never would have imagined being cared for.

Life didn't turn out to be so bad after all.

I absolutely loved writing this, it's been on my mind for a while now! As always, let me know what you think :)

#fanfic #new to tumblr #fan fiction #new writeblr #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #megumi fushiguro #jjk x reader #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi

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aris-ink · 2 years

Note

Please consider writing about Daddy Joon who adopted reader after her mother died and who forces her to sleep in the same bed as him and one night she wakes up to him force breeding her 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 doing his absolute best to make her a mommy 💛

no words fhdhshdfsd

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: forbidden romance, step!father au

warnings: mentions of death and violence (not towards the reader), some angst, soft corruption and manipulation, pseudo incest, daddy kink, somnophilia, dub con, hints of breeding kink, dirty talk, praise, creampie

edited.

Namjoon tried his best to be a good father. He didn't get the chance to watch you grow up, and he was perfectly aware of the fact that you were a woman now. But deep down, in his heart, he still saw you as his little girl. You changed his life, marked him forever. All the unexplored and untouched nooks that twisted through his soul; your light went right into them, a gust of bone chilling wind, breaking through the cobwebs and dust, rattling him to the core. Awakening something so old and primitive from its sleep, it felt nearly sinister.

But it was perfectly fine, Namjoon figured. All little girls had a monster under their bed; it just so happened that yours protected you. Ironic, how it didn't even occur to him that perhaps what you needed protection from was him.

When your mother passed away, he took you in without a moment of hesitation. A lost baby bird that needed their wings nursed back to health. You didn't have to be looked after anymore, sure - but you still needed your daddy. All little girls needed their daddies. And Namjoon would have gladly went to hell and back to provide you anything your heart desired.

It was sweet, your friends thought; how close you were with your stepfather, how tight knit your bond was. Especially knowing you barely remembered your own father. His absence left a hole in your life that seemed impossible to fill before Namjoon started dating your mom.

But what would they say if they knew? If they knew how as soon as you moved in with him, he had you sleep in his bed? How he coaxed you and rocked you in his arms while he brushed your tears away? Weren't you too old for this?

"I'm worried about you, baby," he whispered, his hand burning hot on your knee. "I won't let you sleep alone."

You were opposed to the idea; but something in the way he spoke to you made your mind cloud, the low murmur of his voice filling it up like fog.

"Just lie down for me, sweetheart. Good girl. Don't cry."

He didn't really give you much of a choice; and you felt so warm and safe in his embrace, so loved. Still, a tiny pang of guilt stirred in your chest. Like you were doing something wrong. It definitely seemed wrong to feel every muscle of his body; in his chest against your back, in his arms as they enveloped you. The intimacy of it felt so... new. You've shared hugs before, but you never shared a bed, let alone cuddled in it.

You tried to ignore this train of thought, willing it to crash and crumble. Your cheeks warmed as he sighed against you, from the sheer embarrassment of your own paranoia. This was Namjoon, for god's sake; your mother's ex husband. He must have been suffering too. He must have felt lonely. But most of all, you knew how worried he could get about you. He had always been much more mindful than your mother, paying attention to your moods, asking you about your day, helping you with your homework. You drifted off with only him on your mind, surrounded by the scent of his cologne, the heat of his body entwined with yours. The comfort of it lulled you into the best sleep you've had in months.

After that, you slowly stopped rejecting the idea of sharing a bed with him. Namjoon held an important place in your heart for years. No wonder he'd be the one to keep it from falling to pieces. He was just looking after you.

Right?

Then why did that murky, uncomfortable feeling continue to unfurl in your chest? All logic was against it. And yet you couldn't help but pick up on the little things; how persuasive he was, how his hands wandered over your waist under the sheets. Why did it all bother you, when technically he wasn't doing anything wrong? Most importantly, you reminded yourself over and over again; you weren't doing anything wrong.

Though you might have been unaware of it, Namjoon could see how conflicted you were. He could also see the goosebumps on your skin as he caressed your back, your muscles tensing, suppressing shivers. Unfortunately, it didn't look like you'd give in so easily.

"Go to sleep, baby," he murmured, leaving a kiss on your head before turning to lie on his back. You just needed a little push. That was okay. All good fathers knew their little girls inside and out; and sometimes they had to do what was necessary for their greater good.

You breathed a sigh, nuzzling your cheek into the cool pillow.

"Goodnight, daddy."

Something in his lower stomach stirred. The affectionate title fell from your lips so quietly, like you were already on the verge of succumbing to your exhaustion, slipping right off the precipice and into its dark embrace.

He hasn't heard you call him that in weeks. He listened to your breathing even out, lifting himself up on one arm.

Fuck. He needed you. You needed him too, didn't you? Of course you did. He knew you did. That was what he told himself when he brushed your hair away from your neck, pressing his lips into its column. He covered every inch of it he could reach with butterfly kisses, ending the trail right below your ear. Unlike his lips, his hand was less gentle, squeezing your hip, like he was searching for a way to keep at least some semblance of self control. It was difficult when you felt so soft and warm beneath him. Even more so when he realized that for the first time, he was finally able to act out on his fantasies. For the first time, he had you in his bed, with no one to come in and interrupt you, no one to witness him sliding down your underwear, sticky from how he played with you. The excitement bordered on predatory, but what else could you expect with that thing you set free in somewhere in his soul, the darkness that broke through? It was all your doing. And Namjoon was all yours. The most sinful, immoral parts of him included.

Sinful they were, for no good father should ever touch his little girl the way he touched you, but how could he resist when you responded so well? Your nipples felt so hard under his tongue, the little twitch in your body enthralling. You were so easy to defile; so willing. Namjoon didn't think he's ever felt more in love.

The sight of his aching, fat cock lined up with your cunt was enough to make it drool. He was so hard every vein and ridge seemed to throb. You wanted this, didn't you? You just needed that one, little push. One push of his hips, and you'd wake up gasping from your needy, mortal dreams, only to awaken in heaven; his hand around your mouth, his thick cock filling you up to the brim.

It didn't take long. He pressed his weight into you, groaning as you startled, trashing under him.

"Shhhh, baby," he whispered, breathing harshly into your ear. "It's just me."

Your pussy clenched around him. Namjoon stilled inside you for a moment, holding back a grunt. He looked up at you, trying to force himself to slow his thrusts. The tears stuck in your eyelashes made his heart twist. He took his hand off your mouth, replacing it with his tongue instead, kissing you and trying to pour all his love into you.

He could feel your distress, feel the hot tears flowing down your cheeks.

"Don't cry, baby," he breathed as he pulled away from your mouth. "It's okay. You're so good for daddy."

"N-no," you stuttered out, your hands trembling as they pushed at his chest. "Get off me."

An unexpected, hard thrust had your back arching, a gasp leaving your throat.

"Get off you?"

There was a significant change to the tone of his voice; it was lower and dark now, his eyes stuck on yours as he continued to fuck you.

"That's not what this cute, little cunt is telling me, baby. You're squeezing me so tight."

His teeth gritted at the last word. You couldn't believe the soft moan that slipped past your lips, your body betraying your morals. Namjoon gripped your jaw, fingers digging into it, his cock making wet, obscene sounds as it split you open.

"Fuck," he growled. "You hear that? So wet. Good girl."

You didn't feel like a good girl. More tears threatened to spill from your eyes, and you quickly found yourself realizing you were helpless.

"Please, daddy!" You whined, still pushing at his chest, but your attempt at trying to make him see reason had the opposite effect. His cock only seemed to grow harder inside you - if that was possible - his balls slapping against you faster.

In one swift, rough motion, he turned your head to the side, plush lips pressing right into your ear.

"Do you want me to stop? Is that it? You want daddy to stop pounding your little pussy?" He dropped his voice down to a whisper. "Or is my little girl crying because she's ashamed of how depraved she is?"

The pressure of your hands pushing at his chest softened. You blinked a few times before burying your face in his neck, your arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders.

"Daddy-" you sobbed out, half pleasure, half pain.

Namjoon groaned, his hand slipping under your thigh.

"It's okay, baby... I love you. You're my good girl."

He pressed his lips into your shoulder, leaving kisses over your sweaty skin, his cock reaching deeper than you've ever been touched. He could tell from the way you gasped, trying so hard not to give in to him - and failing.

"Daddy's almost done, baby," he soothed. "Gonna fill you up so- oh-" his hips stuttered when your pussy clenched again. "Ohh fuck."

"Wait, you can't-" the words were abruptly cut off by his kiss, your protests turning into more incoherent, muffled moans.

A string of saliva connected your lips when he pulled away.

"Be a good girl," he groaned. "I can feel how much you want it. Want me to come inside you and make you all mine, huh?"

Your thighs tightened around him as his finger found your clit, slippery and throbbing.

"Want daddy to make you a mommy," he grunted, circling the sensitive bud in fast circles, desperate as he felt you clench. "Yeah? Want to be all fucking mine?" He was hanging on by threads, the filth spilling from his mouth turning into breathy moans when you started coming. He fucked you harder, letting you claw at his back, hot seed spilling deep into your tightening cunt. The sound of your loud whines only made him twitch more, his head spinning.

"Good fucking girl," he whimpered, stilling in between your legs.

He stayed inside you, unable to force himself away, his hands running up and down your arms soothingly.

"Baby," he whispered a moment, lifting his head.

You didn't shy away from his gaze, but more tears lingered beneath your lashes, and he couldn't help but sigh.

"I love you."

He pressed a kiss into your forehead, his thumb wiping your wet cheeks.

"Don't cry."

You struggled to reply verbally, instead choosing to hide within his embrace.

"It's okay," he reassured. "I promise. I got you."

You nodded into his neck.

"Good girl."

Namjoon knew he had to pull out eventually. He sighed again, dropping another kiss on your lips.

"Get some rest, baby."

A shudder went through you as he lifted himself up, dragging his cock out of your cunt, leaving behind nothing but a feeling of emptiness and his cum dribbling out of you. He almost shuddered too, his abdomen clenching at the sight.

"Good girl," he couldn't help repeating himself, his hand massaging the soft flesh of your thigh.

He wanted to fuck you again. The thought of overwhelming you stopped him, though. He knew just how much you could handle, and that was it for tonight. It was more than enough.

He lowered himself onto his side, wrapping both arms around your waist. This time, you didn't try to scooch away. You didn't try to get closer either, and he left it at that, the soft hum of post orgasmic bliss filling his body and tempting his lids to drop.

"Goodnight, daddy," you whispered, or sighed, he couldn't be sure, your voice so soft as it breached the sleepy, softened walls of his mind. His heart fluttered in his chest, fingertips brushing yours.

"Goodnight, baby."

He tried not to think about tomorrow. Tried not to get excited over the possibility of you getting pregnant; of finally being able to be a real family, the kind he could never imagine with anyone else.

How could Namjoon ever consider fate cruel? Meeting your mother has led him to meeting you, and in a twisted, tender way he loved the role he took on for you. He loved providing for you; he loved the authority that came with his title. And he loved you, so fucking much. Fate has been kind to him in all aspects so far; even sweeping your mother out of the way for him. He didn't have to lift a finger. Before she died, he had started thinking that she might need a little push, too. Down the stairs perhaps. But all is well that ends well, he supposed, and this ended as well as it could without him interfering.

Did he feel any grief at all? No. Why would he? The woman has been far too self absorbed, far too neglectful of you. She was became nothing but a burden; one he was glad to be rid of.

He knew that wasn't the case for you, however. You were too kind to think that way. He didn't mind, though. No matter what, he wouldn't let guilt eat you alive. It was the last promise he made to himself before falling asleep, his arms tightening around you. He'd fill you up with his love and his cum until you could think of nothing else, glowing and warm.

You were his little girl. He'd take his time; and he had all the time in the world.

#no words but also ily #yandere bts #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts smut

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