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tojiphile · 8 months

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you don't need other boys when you have him, your daddy’s best friend. he’s everything you’d ever need and more, better than all the boys—he’s a man. a good man. these are the words he croons into your ear every time he sneaks into your room late at night, slipping an arm around your waist and his cock in your eagerly waiting cunt.

it all started when you had a fight with your dad. even though your dad was hosting his own birthday party, you sulked all night. your dad didn’t try to hide his own snide comments, so why should you? you didn’t greet guests nor help out, instead choosing to use your phone, drink as much booze as you could and retire to your bedroom early.

as you lay in bed, you could still hear the reverberations of music and the boisterous laugh of middle aged men and women alike. you groaned and covered your head with a pillow, trying to drown out the noise. so when he knocked on your door, opened it when you didn’t answer, and walked in, you jumped when the weight shifted on your bed as he sat down.

“i didn’t mean to scare you,” he says kindly, lending you a smile, “you just seemed… off, today. i wanted to check in on you.”

you sit up. this man was your dad’s best friend of years. not having any kids of his own, he spoilt you rotten. he bought you all the toys and pretty dresses that your dad refused to, arguing that they were too expensive before throwing money at gambling or whatever new woman walked into his life. as you grew up, you couldn’t help but develop a soft spot for him. when you sat still and pretty during dinners and parties, nodding along like a good girl your father demanded you be, your eyes always fell on him. his charming disposition, the way he chided your father like no one else could, and the way he’d always put food on your plate first, giving you a wink as you said thank you wordlessly.

of course, when your friends would talk about dilfs, your mind would never go to your father, the deadbeat dad who provided nothing for you. instead, you would always think about him. his salt and pepper hair that he ran his calloused hands through, smile lines set on his face more defined than any wrinkles, his toned body that you would dream about, touch yourself to every night. you were suddenly conscious that you weren’t wearing a bra. nor shorts.

“i’m fine.” you pull your blanket up to cover your chest. maybe it was the six pack of beer or the cask strength whiskey, but your head was pounding, and your heart was racing. he put a large hand on your thigh. your blanket hid your bare skin from his, but his gentle touch already sent heat pooling in your lower body.

“i’m sorry about your dad,” he says, “he’s an idiot.” he rubs your thigh reassuringly, perhaps innocently unaware of what he’s doing to you, “he doesn’t know how to treat a woman. much less his perfect daughter.”

you flush. was he really saying this? he continues, “i’ve tried to tell him so many times, y’know? how amazing you are, so filial, better than so many other daughters this day and age. he keeps blaming it on your mum leaving but god, that shouldn’t be a fucking excuse.”

he’s working himself up, you can tell as his brow furrows, his arms tense. it feels good to be validated, especially when your father was so unmoving. you place a hand on his toned arm, “i’m fine, but thanks.”

“but you shouldn’t be fine!” he stands up, pacing. you internally bemoan the loss of contact, “if i was your dad, i’d never treat you this way,” he sits back down softly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, “if you were mine, i’d take care of you.”

his flushed face is inches from yours, you can smell the whiskey on his breath and see the heat in his gaze, almost blazing. he cups your face gently, eyes studying your face before falling back to your eyes, “you’re perfect, so beautiful.” you hold his gaze, you don’t know where this is going but you don’t want this moment to end.

the moment ends when you both hear your father yell and a beer bottle break. he must have lost in a game of poker. before you can react, your father’s best friend shoots up, “i’m sorry,” he trudges towards your bedroom door, “i shouldn’t have come up.”

his hand is already on your door handle and your mouth acts before your brain can stop it, “no.” he turns to look at you.

your pull the blanket off, revealing your bare legs, nipples perky against your thin shirt, “stay.”

his breath hitches, and you can see his pants tightening. he can’t peel his eyes away from you but he manages to mutter, “it’s wrong.”

you turn your body to his, spreading your legs and placing your feet on the bed, exposing your core to him.

“please.”

whatever self control he had left seems to have evaporated at the pleading sound of your voice as he clicks your door lock into place and races over to your bed, forcing you to lie flat as he climbs on top of you, slotting himself between your spread legs, trapping you under him.

“you’re beautiful,” he whispers, leaning down to press featherlight kisses on your neck, “so beautiful.” you gasp as a hand grips your waist, running down the side of your figure.

“but this is wrong…” he tries to pull away but you stop him. “i don’t care.” you yank him by the front of his shirt, pulling all his weight on top of you as you press your lips together, running your hands down his broad back. he takes a second to react but follows your lead, he nips at your bottom lip and as you moan, he slips his tongue into your mouth.

he breaks away from the kiss, sitting up to pull off his shirt, revealing his defined abs. you let yourself feel him, reveling in the feeling. he leans back down, gaze never leaving yours but just as your lips are are about to meet, he stops. you can’t help but whine, though the sound is replaced by a gasp as a calloused hand cups you through your panties.

“you’re already soaked,” he laughs, “good girl.”

embarrassed but so unbelievably desperate, you let out a sigh, “only for you, daddy.”

he scoffs, “i know.” he pulls your panties aside, revealing your puffy pussy, “this isn’t the first time i’ve come up to your room.” he spreads you with his fingers, and you shut your eyes in anticipation, “i tried to find you last week to say goodbye but your walls are really thin. i heard you call out my name.”

the last time he was over, he must have come from the gym as his damp hair along with the tightest compression shirt you’d ever seen was enough for you to squeak out a tiny “excuse me”, before running to your room before you creamed yourself right there at the dinner table.

he slips two fingers into your greedy cunt, snapping you back to reality. he moves slowly, but his long, slender digits worked their magic, loosening you up while hitting at that spongy spot inside you. his thumb finds your clit and moves in small circles, causing your brain to short circuit. he hadn’t done much but the pleasure is insurmountable, the whole situation overwhelms you, and you find your core tightening, close. “cum for me,” he kisses down your neck, sucking near your collarbone. at his okay, you chase your release, writhing under him as his fingers continue working.

“so good for daddy,” he kisses you as you pant softly.

he slips his fingers out of your cunt and display them to you, slick and dripping. “messy girl.” you squirm as he spreads his fingers, showing off your viscous juices. he maintains eye contact with you as he takes his own digits in his mouth, sucking them clean, tasting you.

"sweet, just like you." he proclaims, booping your nose with the same finger that was just in his mouth seconds earlier. “can you take more?”

you nod. he grins, pressing a chaste kiss onto your lips. he sits up, one hand caressing your face and the other unbuckling his belt. he pulls it off in a swift motion, but before he can begin unbuttoning his pants, you move your hand to do so. "allow me," you smile up at him, puppy eyes glinting.

"someone's excited." he laughs, moving his hand to allow you to work on his buttons. his other hand, still on your face, makes its way down slowly, before his grip finally rests on your neck.

you unbutton his jeans and are faced with his grey underwear, straining from his bulge. “keep going,” he nudges you with his free hand. you pull at his waistband, allowing his cock to spring free. it’s thick, veiny, and big, bigger than any of the other boys’ you’d ever been with. tentatively, you wrap a hand around his length, causing him to hiss softly. your thumb doesn’t meet your fingers, so as you start pumping him slowly, up and down, you have to use two hands to grip him tight.

“god, you’re amazing,” he says with a sigh, giving your neck a gentle squeeze, gazing at you like you’re the most beautiful thing that’s ever crossed his sight. when you meet his eyes you can’t help but look away. still, you manage a whisper, “i- i want you.”

“say that again?” he asks, distracted by your hands working to unravel him. you flush.

“i want you…” you meet his eyes, “…in me.”

he barks out a laugh, spurred on by your boldness, “anything for you.”

he moves to stand up, shrugging off his bottoms. he moves to your bedside table and rummages around, looking for something. “any condoms?”

you shake your head. “i must have ran out. are you clean?”

he laughs. “considering you’re the first person i’ve fucked in a few years, i’d hope so.”

“good,” you hide a cheeky smile, before giving him your best puppy dog eyes, “because i really, really want daddy to give me his babies.”

with a raise of an eyebrow, he accepts the challenge. he always loves you best when you’re confident. makes him want to ruin you. he climbs back over you, spreading your thighs apart and aligning the tip of his cock with your dripping cunt.

he looks at you for your approval, and at your nod, he pushes his tip in. you gasp at the stretch, his thick cock opening you up like a present. you wanted him, no, needed him to fill you up, to make you feel so, so full.

you rut into him and he gets the hint, pushing himself deeper into you. it starts to feel painful, and you clench around him, trying to seek some relief. your fluttering walls make him feel so good, too good. he could feel himself coming close. “don’t do that!” he warns, but it comes out more as a moan.

you disobey, of course, and squeeze tighter. wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him in deeper, causing you both to breathe in a sharp intakes of breath. any pain had evaporated into the pooling warmth in your stomach.

both of you stay in that position for a while, eyes locked. “fuck it,” he growls under his breath, grabbing onto your waist and pulling your body away from his, before snapping it back. he’s thrusting in, and pulling you off, all while his curved cock continues to hit that sweet, sweet spot that makes you see stars. you almost fall limp, but wanting to prove yourself, you start fucking yourself on his cock, lifting your hips and trying to move yourself to ease his load.

“such a good, a good girl. my good girl. my girl. my girl. mine.” he chants it like a mantra, each syllable a beat he moved along to as he fucked you silly. “who owns you?”

“you, daddy!”

he places a hand on your bare stomach and squeezes. following the curve of your body, he finds your breast. he takes your whole boob in his big hand, squeezing it so tightly it hurt. he moves to play with your nipples, rolling it around between calloused fingers, pebbling it. you moan and arch your back, allowing him to sink deeper into you.

“what a good girl you are, huh? fucking yourself on his cock. my pretty, pliant girl. ‘m gonna fill you up with my babies. wanna see your cute little stomach swell.” he lifts one of your legs, tucking it over his shoulder, allowing him to go even deeper than you thought he could. you’re squirming, trying to keep up with his relentless pounding but god it’s too much. his hand wanders your body, gripping at your tender flesh. he wants to feel you, every part of you.

just the thought makes the pooling heat in your stomach come to a boil, your toes curling, you cry out, “i’m gonna cum!” he continues fucking you, his stamina never letting up, “cum for me, my pretty girl, i’m close too.”

the pleasure is building to a climax and as he places a hand on your neck and squeezes, you feel your high washing over you, cunt convulsing over his cock. his grip doesn’t release, and black spots start to cover your vision, making you let out a shaky moan.

as he looks down at you, back arching and falling while he fucked you through your orgasm, the obscene sight of your precious body squirming under him is what takes him over the edge. he’s cumming into you, warm jets of white shooting straight into your cunt. his head empty other than his relentless thoughts, “mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.”

you both reach that peak together, gripping onto each other for dear life. when you’re all done, he presses a deep kiss on your lips and slips his softening cock out of you, rolling to lie by your side. still, greedily, he pushes his cum back into you, “take it all.”

he opens up and lets you roll into his arms. he places a gentle kiss on your forehead, and smooths out your tangled hair. you both lie there in comfortable silence, your eyes falling shut and his focused on you. soon, your breathing became even. when you fall asleep, he rolls himself out of your bed, looking down at your sleeping form, so peaceful and worry-free. he wants you to look like that always. slowly, he gets himself dressed to rejoin your dad’s party downstairs. tucking you in, he presses one final kiss on your head and whispers,

“good girl.”

GETO SUGURU, gojo satoru, zhongli, hajime iwaizumi, NANAMI KENTO, tetsuro kuroo, aki hayakawa

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bigification · 26 days

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Bear Darts

"Yes! They finally came in." I say in excitement as I pick up a package in front of my dorm. I rush inside and rip open the package. 8 small darts with a weird green liquid inside and a bamboo tube. "There's no way they actually work right?" The website seemed so legit and the concept seemed too good to be true. "Guaranteed to transform any man into a certified bear." Was the tag line. I am tempted to jab one of them into my arm right now, but I'm too nervous. What if it's just poison or something? I should at least test it out, it'll be fun anyway.

I stuff the darts and the bamboo into my bag and head to campus. Who to start with? Mr. Henderson could be a good option. I don't like him so if it goes wrong I don't care, and he's pretty scrawny so I'll be able to see any difference. I decide to head to Mr. Henderson's office, figuring he'll be a good test run.

On the way, I come across a raccoon rummaging through garbage in an alley, and an idea sparks through my mind. If it's that harmful, it would hurt a raccoon, so I might as well test them out. I pull out a dart and the bamboo and head into the alley. I slot the dart into the end of the bamboo, line up the shot, and blow as hard as I can. I hear the swoosh of the dart piercing the wind. The dark hits the raccoons back and it barely reacts, as if it's just a measly mosquito bite. The green liquid drains out of the dart, and I wait for a reaction. It doesn't take long for the animal to start twitching. It's hard to tell in the shadow of the alley, but my kind went straight to the worst, it was poisonous. But then I saw its body change shape. It wasn't much, but its scrawny limbs grew thicker, its belly grew rounder, and its grubby little paws grew larger. By the end, it still resembled a raccoon, just larger and meatier than you'd expect a raccoon to be. Could this be real? I continue watching as the raccoon resumes its normal activities.

I let out a chuckle in excitement at what was yet to come. I walk back out of the alley and speed walk to Mr. Henderson's office, this was gonna be good. The website said results may vary depending on what the person looked like before the transformation, and based on other things like genetics. Essentially it's random. But I was still hoping to see Mr. Henderson with a big hairy gut spilling out of his shirt.

I finally make it to his office and I slowly open his door just a sliver. He's standing in the middle of the room, looking over at the wall to the left of the door. I feel confident enough that he's not able to see the door from the way he's looking. I look over to see he's very concentrated on a bunch of photos hung up on the wall, which makes sense as he's a photography prof.

I take a mental image of the prof before I line up the shot, so I can compare the before and after in my mind. He's got buzz cut and a bushy salt and pepper beard. His frame is quite skinny but I can see a little bit of a belly and moobs under his shirt. That shirts definitely not doing him any favours, I wonder what it will look like on him after. His arms and legs are scrawny, with little fat or muscle on them. He's also wearing some camo shorts.

Now with his image locked in my head, I prepare a dart and like up the shot. Same with the raccoon, I blow as hard as I can and the dart lodges into the side of his belly. He flinches for a moment, but then stops in places. I can see his muscle twitching, as if they're cramping and freezing him in place. It all happens so quickly. It starts with his belly. His small belly grows in waves of soft fat, each wave packing dozens of pounds. Each wave makes his gut jiggle more and more as it grows rounder and rounder. His gut and his love handles spill over his waistline as his shirt rides up, revealing a stretched out belly button. Soon enough, it appears as though he stuffed a small beach ball into his stomach with how large it is. Though it is soon complemented by a growing pair of soft moobs. If what he had before were moobs, he now has full on man tits. They're soft and round, pressing tightly against his shirt. I can even see his nipples harden under the shirt. Next to fall is his ass. His once flat derriere quickly plumped up similar to his belly. Waves of fat perked up his ass as it threatened to rip through his shorts. The button on his pants popped off and flung across the office in dramatic fashion, leaving his fly wide open. His arms and his legs thickened slightly as a layer of fat covered them, though they stayed quite skinny in proportion to his body. Also, in the process, his beard had grown out and became almost all grey.

The entire time I could feel my dick riding up into my waist band. This was so much hotter than I expected it to be. I want to go in there and get my hands on that fatass so bad, but I have to have restraint. His muscles have stopped twitching and he seems back in control, though he still seems laser focused on the wall of photos. He reaches to scratch his belly and seems a bit shocked at the fact that he's scratching skin rather than shirt. "Huh, I coulda sworn this fit yesterday, musta shrunk in the wash." He shrugs, completely oblivious to the changes his body had just gone through. I don't know if I find it more or less hot that he seems to not care that he's a fatass. I don't have time to think about it though, as he starts to turn towards the door. I quickly grab my bag and run. I'll get to see him for photography class tomorrow anyway.

I think about who I want to hit next. I've got 6 darts left and plenty of profs on my list. Now that it seems safe, I'm more willing to go for profs I like. So I think one of the hottest prof off the top of my head. Mr. Ahmed. God he's hot. He's got perfectly toned skin, a thick black beard, and beautiful eyes. The only thing is he's quite skinny, and I like my men thick. So this is the perfect opportunity, and his office is close by.

I arrive at his office and see him just on his phone. My mouth salivates as I think about what I'm gonna do to him. I pull out a dart and shoot it. It lands right into his biceps and the green liquid rapidly drains from the dart. My hand instinctively drifts to my crotch as I wait in anticipation.

He froze in place, just like Henderson. But this time it started from his arm instead of his belly, it must be from wherever the dart hits. His once skinny arm swells, ripping his sleeve in the process. His forearm followed suit, growing a thick pelt of hair in the process as his delicate hand grew into a monstrous man hand. The transformation continued into his shoulders, then to his chest. His shoulders broadened, pushing his small shirt to its limits. Then his suddenly exploded outward, tearing straight through what was left of his shirt. Thick muscles now lay under thick man tits as they hand over his stomach. His already thick chest hair became more dense as his nipples grew large and sensitive. His other arm quickly grew just as large as the first, evening out his hulking body. His exposed belly went from flat to large and rotund in a matter of seconds, though it remained quite solid from strong muscle that grew below it. His gut befell a similar fate to the rest of his body, being covered in a layer of dark hairs.

His lower half quickly grew to match his upper half. Fat and muscle flooded into his ass and thighs until his dress pants ripped in dramatic fashion, leaving him in nothing but his extremely tight underwear, leaving little to the imagination. The legs continued to grow, and his feet seemed to grow at least five sizes, busting out of his shoes. Finally his facial features began to change. The rather young professor looked as if he aged 15 years in just moments as wrinkles and blemishes riddled his face, and his hairline receded slightly. His face also seemed to become a bit chubbier, matching his hulking gut.

He finally unfroze, seeming unfazed by changes in his body. He reached to stretch some of his muscles, I'm sure they're sore after such an intense transformation. But he quickly realized his lack of clothing and left to a backroom to find some. The idea that he wouldn't be able to find any clothes that remotely fit him made it all the more hot for me, but I got out before I got caught.

I was on top of the world, there was no way I would stop now. I thought about who to find next, and the choice seemed obvious. Mr. Salim, how could I forget the health and fitness prof. Ive never had him, but damn it is tempting to take a fitness class just to get to look at him more. He kinda looked like Mr. Ahmed but buff, cocky, and far more charming.

I quickly made it to the fitness building and found his office. I peaked in and saw him working out with his earbuds in, this was my shot. Without hesitation I load a dart and shoot. I chuckle quietly as I see the dart lodge into his ass. He goes to scratch his ass but fails to notice the dart, soon after he drops his weights and freezes in place. His already perky ass grows slightly, but not as much as I'd expect. Still enough to pants ride down his ass a bit, revealing a bright blue jockstrap. Of course Mr. Salim would wear a jockstrap. His thighs grow significantly, bulging with muscle to the point of ripping his pants. The rest of his legs follow suit, growing thick calves and massive feet.

I can see under his shirt that his waist is tightening up, which is surprising given that he's the first one to not get fat. A little disappointing if you ask me, but I'm not disliking what I see so far. His shoulders broaden and his chest puffs out, ripping right through his shirt. His arms nearly double in size, making his look like a bodybuilder as his hands grow to match. His face seemed to age as some of his hair turned grey. As he aged, his already hairy body became even more so, covering most of his body in thick salt and pepper hair. Even his stubble grew out into a thick silver beard.

Mr. Salim put down his weights, got up, and walked to the mirror in his office. He turned so he could see his ass in the mirror and snapped a photo.

A part of me was hoping to see him become a fat slob, something about fat gym teachers always got me going. But I certainly wouldn't complain about this view.

The health and fitness building is right beside geography and history, so I should head there. I try to think of a teacher I've had in this department. Maybe Mr. Smith? I had him for first year history and he's hot, I just remember him being a bit weird. That doesn't matter, I'm already on my way to his office.

I peak through his door and see him focused on his computer, perfect timing. I load a dart and shoot it. It hits him in the side of his thigh. Within moments I can see his jeans struggling to contain his growing legs. His jeans become even tighter as fat fills his ass, creating a loud pop sound as his belt snaps off.

His slim torso expands until he has a thick muscle gut and love handles that spill over his jeans. His chest grows into two strong but soft looking pecs that are impossible to miss through his tight shirt. His arms explode with muscle, making it look like they're gonna rip his sleeves. Finally his face fattens up a bit as a short beard covers his soft jawline.

Mr. Smith leans back in his chair and crossed his arms over his tank of a gut.

It wasn't what I expected for Mr. Smith to be honest. I expected him to turn into a big fat history teacher, but he is hotter as a muscle chub. As I'm watching, he goes to unzip his jeans. He whips out his massive dick and starts to jerk off. Damn I didn't expect Mr. Smith to be packing that, but maybe it's a side effect of the darts. I keep watching until he swivels his chair in my direction, I can't risk being caught so I leave.

I look at my watch and realize I've lost track of time, I have a math class right now. I run across the campus to my math class and quietly sit at the back of the theatre.

I quickly get bored and wonder if I should hit Mr. Derrick with a dart in the middle of the lecture. It's risky but I'm bored so fuck it. I pull out the dart and try to shoot it as quietly as possible and it hits him square in the stomach. Mr. Derrick is a very scrawny man, so I'm curious about how it's gonna effect him.

As soon as he gets hit, he stops talking and freezes in place, but weirdly enough, no one in the class seems to notice. The man's skinny body explodes with fat. At first he grows a small pot belly, then a sizable beer belly, then it settles as a giant ball gut that looks like he stuffed a beach ball down his button up. I'm surprised his shirt has ripped yet. His chest grows two man tits that are visible through his shirt. The sleeve of his jacket starts to look like stuffed sausages as his fat arms fill out all the space in them. The man's thighs thicken until his pants start to rip and his fat ass causes his fly to rip open. Finally his clean shaven face grows a thick brown beard.

He continued the lecture as if nothing had happened. His lack of awareness of his body makes even more hot. I can't believe he ended up that fat, I can see his gut spill out of his shirt each time he reaches up. And every part of his body bounces when he walks around. Eventually he ended up sitting down for the second half of the lecture, and he was often out of breath from just talking.

Once the lecture is over, I walk up to the front of the theatre and talk to Mr. Derrick.

"Hey, I've been struggling keeping up with the material lately, I was wondering if we could have a one on one session?" I ask him.

"Oh ya for sure, just come by during my office hours and I'd be happy to help." He responds. The man is practically panting at this point and I can see the sweat start to drench his beard.

"By the way, I don't think that shirt fits you anymore sir." I say just to make him uncomfortable. He just looks down, blushes, and runs off. Hobbling as fast as he can out of the theatre.

I got two darts left, I should use them wisely. The only teacher I can think of right now is Mr. Brown. His voice is so deep and buttery but his body doesn't match it, he's really skinny. I think he'd be better off as a bear anyway.

I make my way to the athletics facility, I've had him for French and English class, so I know where to find him. He works out around this time most days, so I make my way to the gym. As I walk to the gym, I see him in the corner of my eye in the showers. He's turned away from me, so I quickly take my shot, hitting him in the back. His back muscles grow and become more defined before a thick layer of fat covered them and creates thick rolls down his back. His stomach grows into a sizable belly with a thick belly button. His chest expands, first to juicy pecs, but then they slowly soften into a pair of moobs. His traps grow as his shoulders broaden, I also notice that he's getting taller, like a lot taller. He was shorter than me, but now his head is well above the shower head. His arms grow to match the rest of his hulking body.

Next his ass widened and started to sag slightly under its own weight. His thighs thickened until they rubbed together and his feet grew from a size 11 to a monstrous size 20. I also noticed his dick grow to at least 10 inches, if not more. All the while he was still getting taller, by now his shoulders were above the shower head. Finally his facial features became softer and fatter as the hair on his head fell out, although his stubble grew into a thick black beard.

As the transformation ends, Mr. Brown reaches behind him and grabs the dart out of his back. He's the only one to have noticed it. He looks at the dart for a moment, then turns toward me. I try to duck behind the wall, but I think he saw me. I hide in one of the bathroom stalls until I hear him leave, with the size of that man, it's not hard to tell where he's walking.

Once I can't hear him anymore, I rush out of the stall and grab my bag. But just as I reach the door, I bump into Mr. Brown. He's waiting at the doorway with a small green towel wrapped around his waist.

"What's this?" He says holding up one of my darts. Interestingly enough, it's a full one. The one I shot him with should be empty, so that means. Oh no. I look through my bag, the last dart is gone. Before waiting for a response, Mr. Brown just grabs my arm and jabs the dart into it.

I feel frozen in place. My clothes feel tighter and tighter until I hear them rip. I feel the warmth of the locker room air touch my bare skin. I start to feel itchy all over my body as my perspective shifts higher and higher. I feel so strong. I feel like I've grown a foot in height, but I'm still at eye level with Mr. Browns chest.

I finally gain control of my body and look down at the damage. I have thick pecs and a little bit of a belly, all covered in hair. Thick arms and legs, also covered in hair, actually my entire body is now covered in hair. And the bulge in my underwear is massive.

I turn my attention back to Me. Brown.

"Where did you get these?" He asks in his deep intimating voice. I stutter for a moment. "I'm not gonna snitch, I just got a few people I want to use it on." Mr. Brown asks. My fear turns to excitement as I realize the damage Mr. Brown and I are gonna do together.

#male tf #masculine #fat tf #hairy #male wg #reality change #muscle tf #male transformation

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celtic-crossbow · 6 months

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I’d Break the Back of Love for You

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth (No France)

Warnings: Oral (f receiving), sexual situations

Summary: You have some serious appreciation for Daryl’s shoulders.

A/N: As you should, reader. As you should.

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

“How long will you be gone?” You asked before popping a strawberry into your mouth. Daryl had brought them home upon his return only two days prior. You didn’t ask where he found them and he didn’t offer, but he wasn't banged up so he likely didn’t risk life and limb for them. Well, anymore than he always did by going outside the safety of the Commonwealth.

He was already gathering supplies to head out again after a broadcast that Eugene had picked up on the radio. There wasn’t much to it. Just a couple of scrambled words and a lot of static. Not enough, in your opinion, for Daryl to run out and risk himself.

The archer gave you a quick look, a corner of his mouth tugging upward when he noticed the plate of strawberries by your hip. “Few days maybe.” He answered, wrapping some bread and grabbing a couple of refilled bottles of water. He placed the items next to his shirt, on the counter you were currently calling a seat.

When he scratched at his chin, your eyes followed his movements but lingered once he had dropped his hand and moved on with packing. His goatee was more of a starter beard these days, no time for trimming. It didn’t bother you. The salt-n-pepper hair felt good when scratching against the right patches of skin.

There were so many things about your archer that you could admire in that regard all day if you ever had the chance.

The obvious one being his cock. You couldn’t say it was the biggest you’d ever seen but it was definitely to be admired. The first time, back on the Greene farm, he’d pushed into you and you’d nearly came from the stretch alone. It wasn’t just about size though. The man knew how to use it to make you come apart over and over. It always made you want to giggle when you would think back to how socially stunted he had been one day and then the next, he was fucking you stupid over Hershel’s porch railing.

His hair was so long now, the waves taking off a few inches. It was well onto his back when wet. You could still remember when it was barely over his eyes. You had loved it then too. But now, when you would bathe together, you’d have him sit in front of you so you could wash it for him. You’d always end up playing with it; braiding it or carding your fingers through it. However, the best thing was how it clung to his face and neck when he was sweaty after a thorough fucking. You’d push it off of his face, letting your fingers catch on the tangles as you kissed him.

His hands were so much bigger than yours. On the few lazy mornings you were granted, when Carol would get the kids to school for you, you’d just lie there and hold your hands together. With your palm flat against his, he could bend his fingers over the tops of your own. It was easy to imagine his thick fingers inside of you. He had sent you tumbling into oblivion plenty of times with only one curling within your walls. Those hands didn’t just hold weapons; they worked magic, too.

But it was the man’s shoulders that did you in. All that lean muscle that contracted and moved as he lifted and tugged at things to pack. You’d never admit it, but the nights alone in his absence, it was the thought of your legs over those broad shoulders and his face buried in your cunt that brought you to completion over and over.

You really needed to hide any of his shirts that weren’t tank tops.

Who would’ve thought that out of any part of that man, the one that would make you almost instantly wet was his “shoulders—”

“What?”

You shook your head and looked around a bit wildly until you found his gaze and locked on. “Hmm?”

“What ‘bout my shoulders?” He asked as you lifted another strawberry toward your lips. His question had you fumbling the fruit, catching it at the last second before it could fall to the floor.

You laughed nervously. “Shoulders? What? I didn’t say—” you stuffed the entire berry into your mouth to stop your embarrassing rambling. Hopefully, he’d just let it go and keep packing.

That hope went careening out the window when he looked down at his right shoulder and then back at you, a smirk on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

“Nah, ya definitely said somethin’ ‘bout shoulders.” He sat the canteen he had been about to fill next to the sink and started walking toward you. “Still got my hearin’, Sunshine.”

You felt heat pooling in your cheeks and…other places when he leaned into your space, a hand braced on either side of your hips. The strawberry was swallowed down with an audible gulp.

“I, uh, like your shoulders.” You whispered. Daryl laughed in the form of an exhale and leaned in closer, his lips coming to press against the side of your neck. Maintaining any sort of control was almost futile. “Daryl, you need to get packed.” You attempted to sway him but he simply hummed against your flesh.

“Whatcha thinkin’, pretty girl?”

You groaned but leaned back your head to grant him more access. “A lot of things that are gonna make you late.” He didn’t respond to that. Not verbally. He grabbed your hips and pulled your body to the edge of the countertop, your groin coming into contact with the evidence of his own arousal.

“You’re right.” He rasped against your collarbone. With one roll of his hips, you both gasped from the friction. “I guess I should be gettin’ on with packin’.” He rolled his hips again, growling against your jaw. “D’rather have those legs’a yours over these shoulders.”

You whimpered and squirmed against him, mewling when the rough fabric of his jeans grazed against your sensitive core through your thin sleep shorts and panties. That voice of his always made you putty in his hands. “I—please, Daryl.”

“M’gonna give ya whatcha need, Sunshine.” He leaned back and tapped both of your biceps. “Up.” Your arms were immediately raised and your shirt pulled over and off. The cold air against your nipples had them hardening before Daryl could even touch you.

Your small hands found his shoulders, gripping tight while he worshiped your breasts with mouth and hands. The skin of his palms was rough and calloused but that alone brought you so much pleasure. He cupped your left breast, kneading the soft mound and pinching your nipple while circling his tongue over its twin. You had never been so sensitive to a man’s touch in your life, but Daryl could play your body like an instrument.

He pulled off of your breast with a wet pop and searched out your lips, his tongue pressing through to tangle with your own.

“Lay back.” He ordered against your mouth. You did as you were told, only slightly embarrassed by how you knew your wetness was showing through your shorts. Of course, that was the first thing he noticed when he took a step back. “So wet for me an’ I’ve barely touched ya.” His thumb pressed into your clothed opening and trekked upward, earning a few panted moans and a raise of your hips.

He continued past your pussy until he reached the waistband and turned his hand to dip his fingers underneath it. Joined by his other, he pulled your shorts and panties off in slow movements, letting them fall onto the floor.

His large hands pressed into your inner thighs to open you up so wide that it bordered painful. All you could do was bite your lip and watch him. His tongue creeped across his bottom lip, and you shivered.

“Prettiest pussy there ever was.” He commented absently, releasing one of your legs so he could slide his index finger up and down your slick lips. He was rewarded with a needy whine and the sight of you clenching around nothing. With a smirk, he moved his finger straight to his mouth, not pushing it past his lips until you opened your eyes. “Sweet lil’ thing too.”

“Daryl.” You whined. You both knew you weren’t above begging. It was only a matter of whether or not he wanted to hear it this time.

“I gotcha, Sunshine. Gonna make ya feel real good, okay?”

You had zero doubt about that.

“Sit up for me.”

You planted your palms on the counter and came up to meet him, wrapping your hand around the back of his neck to drag him in for a kiss. He chuckled, a sound you adored, and pulled away from you to sink to one knee. A sweet kiss was pressed into your left thigh and then he was looking up at you. Oh, you were burning that sight into your memory for later. He placed his hands beneath your knees and stilled, smirking.

“You’re gonna need to hold on, pretty thing.”

You gave him a quizzical look but then he pulled you forward, his face diving into your waiting cunt as his hands quickly moved to your ass. You had just enough time to twist your fingers in his hair before he was rising from the floor.

“Oh, fuck.” You yelped, not just at the sensation of his tongue breaching your opening, but also at being six feet off the ground. How the man knew where to walk was anyone’s guess but his steps were sure. Your back pressed against the wall beside the refrigerator, giving him a little leverage to really work at your pussy in earnest.

The initial shock had worn off, now replaced by the sensations his mouth was causing and the absolute thrill of legitimately being perched on those fucking shoulders while he devoured you like a man starved.

“Fuck, that feels good.” You praised, fisting one hand in his hair while the other came up to palm the wall beside your head. He knew exactly what he was doing in every sense at that moment. You could feel the tense muscle below your thighs. His tongue delving deep inside your fluttering walls. His nose rubbing against your rapidly swelling clit. His beard scraping your overheated flesh.

A new wave of arousal seeped out of you and he groaned, happily lapping it up with sounds that definitely did not belong in a kitchen. The cord inside you was heating up, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, an absolutely delicious feeling of both tension and ecstasy building and yearning just below the skin.

When he slid his tongue up through your wetness to flick at your clit, you almost couldn’t stand it; desperate to cum and hear him cooing praises after he drank every drop, but also wanting to savor the delectable journey toward an inevitable mind blowing orgasm that would likely leave you unable to speak anything but his name.

“Fuck, oh, right there!” You slapped your palm once against the wall with a long, wanton moan. You wanted to grind against his face, aid in coaxing your high out of you, but he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. His grip on your ass tightened and he pressed face even closer to you, lips encircling your bundle of nerves to suck at it while his tongue worked it from inside his mouth. “Goddamn, Daryl! Fuck!”

He went back to kitten licks, tilting his head down so his nose continued to press at your pulsing nub while he slurped up any new arousal that had dripped out of your entrance.

He was killing you. And you loved it.

Daryl Dixon may have been called many things in his life, but absolute destroyer of pussy needed to be added to that list. When he wasn’t sucking your ability to think right out of your clit, maybe you could remember to call him that in front of one of your friends.

“Fuck.” You felt like you could almost cry, your orgasm not just creeping closer but sprinting. “Daryl, I’m—I’m gonna cum.” He gave your ass a hard squeeze, his way of demanding you let go.

It was gradual, a pins and needles sensation that started from where his lips pulled tightly on your clit and spread out through your limbs, causing them to begin trembling. Then it was all at once, a wave of pleasure hit you so hard that you jerked and the back of your head hit the wall while your hands pulled roughly on his hair. There were a few moments unaccounted for, your vision overtaken by darkness and stars and the distant sounds of your own screams of his name.

When you came back to yourself, your arms were dangling uselessly. You were panting while your body spasmed through the last pulses of your high. And Daryl was eagerly lapping up every drop.

Once you were completely spent, you felt one of his large hands slid up to brace the small of your back while the other lifted one of your legs from his shoulder. He switched, gripping just above your hip on that side to keep you from falling while he moved your other leg. Then you were sliding down until he stopped you just in front of his face, his lips readily pressing against yours.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, feel your own wetness smearing across your face from where it had gathered on his beard. The kiss itself was sweet and lazy and loving, whispered praises between each press of his lips. Your feet slowly touched the floor and his hands came up to cradle your face.

You wanted to melt against him and beg him not to leave you. To clean you up and take you to bed so you could surprise you both by climbing above him and riding him until he filled you over and over. That fantasy had you reaching to cup him through his pants, feeling the straining hardness for only a moment before he gently grabbed your wrist.

“Let’s take a bath an’ getcha cleaned up an’ ready for bed.”

You pulled back, frowning in confusion. “Don’t you have to leave?” You felt your heart spin when he gave you the sweetest smile; the one he gave to only you.

“Nah, need to be here.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, one side and then the other, before gently cupping your chin and kissing you. “They can send someone else.”

“You mean it?” You asked, eyes sparkling with more hope than you meant to reveal.

“Nah, lemme go an’ finish packin’.” He started to turn away but you caught one of those beautiful shoulders to easily spin him back to you. He deflected your attempt to smack him by ducking and hoisting you up over the very same shoulder you had grabbed. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Oh, woe is me!” You laughed, kicking your legs to get out of his hold. You didn’t even remember you were still naked until he gave your ass a gentle smack as he walked up the stairs. Once at the top, you wiggled forward so you could reach and slap his ass one good time. “Hey, if that’s what happens when I say your shoulders are sexy, what would you do if I said you have a nice ass?”

He barked out a laugh that you didn’t hear often enough and used the heel of his boot to kick the door closed.

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vivian-pascal · 3 months

Text

Rainy days║chapter 1║

𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘴.

dbf!joel x f!reader

summary: When it's Joel instead of your dad picking you up after you land, you can't resist your urges when you see him for the first time in 2 years.

warnings: sexual tension, slow burn, unspecified age gap, feelings, f!masturbation, reader has description for what they are wearing and their hair.

As you step off the plane you immediately get hit with the summer smell of Austin. The hot breeze landing on your face making your hair flow in the wind. The dusty scent of the air going up your nose as you breathe in softly. The feeling of the warm sun on your skin as you walk to the pick up area.

You had jut gotten back from your second year of college studying to hopefully become a psychologist in law. You asked your parents if you could stay with them for summer break since it was going to be packed in LA. Of course they had said yes. They missed you dearly and you were very excited to revisit your childhood home.

As you carry your suitcase close to your side, walking along the outside of the airport, you text your mom you've landed and park yourself on a bench. Your wearing a white sun dress with yellow daises on it and some white converse to match. Your hair is tied back in a high ponytail with two strands sticking out at the front of your face. You go to check your phone to see that your mom has replied back. As you open the message, your face pauses in horror.

'Hey hun! dads at work and im out with the girls, something came up and i can't drive so joel's gonna pick you up ok? love you so much and i can't wait to see you! safe travels!'

Joel. Fucking Joel Miller. The man you had been crushing on since you were a teenager. Your dads best friend. The man has been through everything with you growing up. He even witnessed your first period. You were so embarrassed because it had happened at his house with Sarah. You've always had a childhood crush on him. You'd just hoped those feelings would've gone away. Guess you were wrong.

You were nervous as fuck. Its been only two minutes since your mom sent the message and you are sure you could just run home at this point. In fact, you would much rather do that, than sit in a car with Joel.

You finally respond to your mom with a thumbs up emoji and settle back in your bench. You slowly lean back against the head rest and close your eyes.

You open your eyes to the feeling of calloused hands on your shoulders. Joel. "Why hello there darlin'." He gives you a lopsided grin as he stands with his hands on his hips. You look up at him and itch the back of your neck. "Uhm, hello." You look up at him and give him a soft smile. He swiftly crosses his arms over his chest and leans forward a bit.

"Wow, I came all this way to pick you up and all I get is a 'uhm hi'??" he opens up his arms as to what you assume is a hug. " C'mon now sugar, give your old man a hug." he says with a southern drawl as he leans down to give you a hug.

He's always been the best at giving bear hugs, and with you, the height comparison made it feel a little more special. He always had to bend down and wrap his strong arms around your small little figure. He would nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck and all you could smell was him.

He softly lets go of you and carries your suitcase to his truck. You walk around to the passenger side and hop in. He walks around to his side and jumps in next to you." How was the flight?" he asks as he starts reversing.

God, you forgot how beautiful this man was, his fluffy salt and peppered hair, his graying scruff around his face, large hands in the steering wheel. "It was okay." you answer after a minute of silence. You lift your leg up so you can rest your head on your knee and look out the window, Out the corner of your eye, you can see him looking at where your dress runs up a little to high on your thigh, showing a bit of your white lace underwear. You grin to yourself as you look out the window once more.

"What're ya doin' again in school?" he asks keeping his eyes on the road. You feel a little more comfortable with him now and begin to get a little cocky. "Joel, every time I see you, I always have to tell you! You getting old, old man?" you smirk as you see his jaw tighten and his hands on the steering wheel squeezing hard.

"Better watch that tone darlin'. Didn't come all this way to teach a brat a lesson." You scoff at his remark and begin to take your leg down, crossing it over the other. You can see his stupid grin on his face. You swallow roughly and run your hands threw your hair. You begin to close your eyes, as it has been a long flight for you.

When you slowly lift your head and come back to reality. You think you've been sleeping for ages. A voice knocks you out of your dreaming state and you realize its Joel.

"Why hello there darlin', Almost thought i'd lost ya. Didn't realize traffic was that bad so we took a little longer than we needed too. You're gonna stay at my place till mornin' alright sugar?" he smiles softly and you nod your head. He grabs your arm and helps you out of the truck to get your bags.

Once you get inside, he leads you to the guest bedroom and sets your things inside. "Where's Sarah?" you ask before he leaves. " She's out tonight with a couple of work buddies, just you and me tonight darlin'." He grins then walks out the room. You smile softly and check the time. 10:00pm. You begin to unpack your pajamas and close the door.

Once you get changed, you walk downstairs to see the tv on and Joel sat on the couch. You walk to the kitchen and quickly grab a class. Joel slowly looks over at you and begins to speak. "Do ya want any whiskey?" You look at your empty glass then back at him. "Oh, uhm, no thanks, i think i'm just gonna go to bed, its been a long day." You smile at him and begin your descent up the stairs.

You stop short when you hear him speak again." Hey, f'ya need anythin, i'm just two doors down." He gives you a reassuring smile as you nod. You begin to walk when he speaks once more. "Hey sugar?" he asks. You turn around. "Yes Joel?" He stands still for a moment before smiling a little. " Sleep tight." You give him a quick grin and head for your room.

Once your inside, you close the door and put the glass on the bedside table. You crawl under the sheets and turn the lamp off. You breathe in swiftly and all you can smell is him. You close your eyes as you begin to drift off into a soft slumber.

You wake up abruptly and realize you need to pee. You get out of bed and slowly make your way over to the door. You quietly crawl out of your room and down the hall into the bathroom. You close the door and go inside. Once your done, you wash your hands and make your way back to the room.

You get back in and shut the door, You make your way over to the bed and crawl in once more. You lay awake for several minutes. Dreaming, thinking, wondering about Joel. You can feel your sleep shorts getting wetter and wetter each minute you think about him. The way his hands squeezed tightly on the steering wheel, how his soft curls would fall in front of his face just right.

You couldn't help but trickle your fingers down the length of your body and into your short. You began to slowly massage your clit and imagined his hands. Big, strong, calloused hands everywhere on your body. You quietly moaned at the pleasure you felt. You began to move your fingers to your weeping cunt and inserted a finger.

You covered your mouth in attempts to hide your moans as you added a second finger. All you could think about was how he would move his fingers in all the right places, praising you as you did so good for him. Taking his big cock down your throat as he fell apart under you. You couldn't help the whimper that fell from your lips as you felt the tight coil in your stomach begin to build.

You moved your fingers faster and faster as you dreamed of him. You try your best to cover your moans as you orgasm washes over you. You finger movements go to a slow as you take deep breaths in. "Fuck." You close your eyes and try to calm your breathing. At least you'll be able to sleep now.

The morning comes by quickly. The early sun rising in from the blinds you forgot to close the night before, You sleep short still a little sticky from your previous actions. You slowly yawn and reach over to check the time on your phone. 9:00am. You quietly get out of bed and make your way over to your suitcase pulling out your toothbrush and heading down the hall to the bathroom

You close the door and begin to brush your teeth. When you're done, you open the door only to be greeted with a big, bare chest. He rubs his eyes slowly as you take in his figure. His bed head is gorgeous, all strands of hair going every way, his tanned chest is filled with little freckles, his boxers, which are packing a lot of weight, are fit tighlty around his ass. You close your mouth and swallow deeply as you drag your eyes up to his face.

He looks down at you with an awkward smile. "Well, uhm, morning darlin'. You look directly into his eyes. "Morning Joel." And with that you make your way past him and rush into your bedroom. You quickly close the door and lean against it as thought begin to fill your head.

Holy shit, what if he heard me last night? What if he knows? He can't know, can he?

"Fuck." you whisper as you make your way to the edge of the bed and sit down. You hear a faint knock on your door. " Hello?" you ask. "Hey, i'm uh, i'm dropping you off in about 10 minutes, just wanted to give you a heads up." You nod to yourself. "Okay." You say quietly.

Once your dressed, you grab your bags and begin your descent down the stairs. Joel is sitting at the bar with a cup of coffee and some toast, scrolling through what you assume is facebook. You put your suitcase next to the door and stand there awkwardly.

"So, how'd you sleep?" He looks up from his phone and puts his toast down. "Fine, how 'bout you?" you debate on actually telling him what had happened in the depth of the night but you thought that was absolutely absurd and its not like he would care,right? "I slept okay." You say quietly. He gives a quick nod and stands up from his stool. He walks over to the sink and puts his plate inside while chugging the rest of his coffee down.

"Alright, let's get goin.'" He grabs his keys and picks up your suitcase as you both head to his truck. He puts your suitcase in the back and hops in the drivers side. You quickly buckle up and sit with your legs crossed. He reverses and puts his hand behind your head rest to look out the back. You can see all the veins on his arms that are popping out. Perfect for you to lick.

You quickly look away as he removes his hand and puts it on the steering wheel. You sit in an awkward silence, as you look out the window and watch the world go by. You get a text from your dad asking when you'll be there. "Do you know what time we'll be there?" you ask looking at him. "20 minutes." He doesn't look at you.

"Okay." You say blandly. You quickly text your dad back and wait for his response. You watch as the nostalgic scenery fills your view with all the places you used to go to as a kid. Playing with Sarah while your dads talked away about their new contracting business. You then remember that Joel has a brother. Jesus, it hasn't been that long since ive been home, has it?

"How's Tommy doing?" you ask. He takes a deep breath in. "He's fine." you look down at your lap and play with your fingers. "That's good." you say quietly. He makes a right turn into a neighborhood that you instantly remember. All the times you've played with Sarah in the surrounding fields, it makes you a little emotional but also excited to be home.

You text your dad you've arrived as Joel pulls into the driveway. You quickly unbuckle as you see your dad in the doorway. You run out of the truck and into his arms. "Hey honey! I missed you so much!" He gives you a big hug and squeezes you tightly. "I missed you so much dad!" You give him one last hug before going out to Joel. Your dad takes your bags in and walks into the kitchen.

You find Joel in the same spot. "Well uhm." You scratch the back of your head. "Thanks for picking me up and letting me stay at your place." You smile shyly as he begins to move closer.

He opens his arms for a hug and you lean into him. A few seconds go by with your eyes closed and his head is right next to your ear. You were breathing him in. Physically. "You make some pretty goddamn noises sugar." He whispers. You don't know what he's talking about until you realize. You quickly stiff in your stance. He nuzzles into your neck and gives you a quick kiss under your earlobe.

He let's go of you and stands up straight. Your still in awe as he begins to speak. "See ya 'round sugar." He gives you a quick smile as he makes his way back to the truck with his hands in his pockets. You slowly watch as his truck backs out of your driveway and you see him give you a nod and a sly wink.

"What the fuck."

#joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #dbf!joel

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Text

Silence can never be bought, only rented.

pt. 2 of 6, 2.5k | dbf!Joel x fem!reader | 18+

picks up after Pt 1 . Story Master List

Joel Miller List

“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat. As he pulls his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair. The glimpse makes your knees weak.

Thank you @dark-scape for the mini mood boards!

Warnings/notes: no-outbreak AU. Reader confident in string bikini, there may be more to joel than meets the eye. Legal age gap. Masturbation. cumshot. Kinda dom reader. i don't know all triggers, not used to detailed warnings in my usual fandoms sorry

NEXT: PART 3

Catch up on Part 1

-----

It's June in Texas. You packed your swimsuit this weekend. You don't know why Joel would wear a jacket in this weather anyway. Hopefully he doesn't fuck your stepmother while he's breaking it off. In the big scheme of things, one more time wouldn't make much of a difference. It's more about the fact that he's your property now.

Back at your friend's place, you plug in your phone across the room while you settle in to watch another movie. Her new sound system is badass, so you don't hear it when your phone rings, but she does.

She’s a lot closer to it than you are, so you tell her she can send it to voicemail. She leans over and looks at the screen.

“Joel." Her eyes widen. "DILF Joel??”

You scrunch your face up. “Gross, he's like 50.”

“Okay, what does non-DILF Joel want?” She rightfully uses finger quotes around "non." In the back of your mind, you always knew Joel was hot. It turns out, you had no idea.

You sigh, “Probably just checking on me while my Dad is away.” You're tempted to tell her–at least the part where Joel is fucking your stepmother–but for now, you don't. You enjoy being the only one who knows and could ruin both of them.

“So why not answer?”

“Guess I just don’t feel like talking.”

She looks at you sympathetically. She knows why you came home this weekend. You needed a change of scenery after things got messy with a guy you were seeing. “I get it,” she says. “But I promise you’re gonna be over him before you know it. Then on to the next,” she smiles.

If only it were that easy. You really don’t feel like going back and facing life. Technically Chad is right, you never defined your relationship or agreed to be exclusive. But you spent so much time together, and he said he loved you. You know he’s a chode and not at all worth your tears. You just hate feeling so powerless. On the plus side, you've barely thought about Chad at all since the moment you first saw Joel's truck this weekend.

Your phone dings. Your friend looks at it.

“Who leaves voicemail?” she asks. It dings again and her face gets serious. "Oh, shit. You should really call him. He said Trouble."

"That's just what he calls me." You suppress a smirk at the nominal determinism.

"Oh, yeah. Ugh. I hate that I'm gonna miss the HOG barbecue this year. "

HOG. . . Hot Old Guy. She really tickles herself pink with that. Your dad and Joel cook out at Joel's pool every independence day with a couple of other friends, and you normally bring her.

Your phone dings again. She looks at the screen and side-eyes it.

"What?" You ask

"You should block Chad."

You feel a rush of satisfaction followed by shame as you eagerly go over and look at the phone.

Chad: miss u already.

In a way, it’s the best possible message, but seeing the dumb way he writes, your shame is replaced by anger.

"God what an asshole," you fume. You don't respond.

You finish watching the movie, and eventually start catching up on Joel's texts. Come out and talk to me for one minute. A pit forms in your stomach. He was here? Are you that predictable?

When it's time to leave and you get to your car, there's a note. It's the same one you left on Joel's truck, the one that said You're sick. There's a response scrawled under your writing:

You have no idea.

Your heart races as you look around the street. How dare he? And why are your cheeks burning?

You start driving back to your apartment. It’s well under two hours away, it's still afternoon, and you don’t know what you'll do with the day when you get back. Laundry, you guess. You can hardly bear the thought of being back there alone with your thoughts.

Instead of 35 South to San Antonio, you find yourself on Joel's street. Joel is a successful contractor and has a nice house. Comically high-security, too. Today, the gate is already disarmed, so you don't have to put in the code or talk to him. You park in his big wraparound driveway, grab your bag, and head around back. The pool gate is disarmed, too. You enter the code to the pool house door.

When you walk in, the air conditioning blasts on and it's freezing. Kind of obnoxious in a state with a power grid crisis. You throw your stuff down on the big couch, not bothering to go any further. You strip down to your underwear, ass facing the window. Then you put your swimsuit cover-up over your underwear. Feigning modesty, you take your underwear out from under the cover-up and replace it with your two-piece.

When you come out, Joel is sitting in a zero gravity lounge chair across the pool in front of the big glass windows of his house. When you see him, your heart skips a beat, even though it’s no surprise. It’s like when you’ve been thinking about someone so much they practically become a celebrity in your mind, even if they don’t deserve it.

You bring your bag out to the deck and sit across the pool from him. He’s wearing the same tight, blue t-shirt and jeans. Now he has on Ray Bans and flip flops instead of boots.

You slather your sunscreen on as he watches. He doesn't bother pretending not to watch. You slip your hands inside the cups of your bikini top, lotioning up your breasts. He adjusts himself, which sends a tingling rush to your core.

Once your sunscreen is dry, you wade into the pool. You walk around aimlessly, then swim over to his side, keeping your head above water. When you get to the edge, you rest your forearms on the deck, then put your head down on the crook of your arm and float your legs behind you.

“Come to give me my jacket?” he asks.

“I don’t know how you’re wearing jeans, much less a jacket." You lift your head to look at him.

“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat.

He stands up, and as he's pulling his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair. The glimpse makes your knees weak. He pulls the elastic waistband up and leaves the boxers on. He sits down again and crosses his ankles.

You ask, “How’d it go?”

“Oh, about how you’d expect.”

“How long were you fucking her?”

“Does it matter?”

“You’re gonna tell me everything I ask.”

“Few months. Look, Trouble, I’m human at best. She came onto me.”

“Knew you’d say that.”

“What if I could prove it?”

You don’t say anything. He takes out his phone and scrolls for a while, then brings it to the edge of the pool. You watch his heavy quads quake with each step but avert your eyes while he bends his knees. You have no interest in seeing his balls or anyone else’s. His boxers tighten around his muscular thighs as he sits down and lowers his feet into the pool right next to you.

“There,” he says, handing you his phone. You can barely see in the sunlight and don’t really care who initiated it anyway.

“Why don’t you just get a girlfriend?” you ask.

“You wanna set me up?” he smiles. “Got any single friends?”

“Why don’t you ask Sarah? She’s older than me.”

He grabs his chest like you shot him. Sweat is blotching his softwash t-shirt already.

You hand his phone back.

"There's one inside for you," he says. "It's on the counter." He gestures through the window.

"One what?"

"iPhone pro. Since you can't seem to answer whatever piece of crap you're using."

"What do I need an iphone pro for?"

"They didn't have the regular one in blue."

Your favorite color is a nice touch, but an iPhone isn't going to make this all go away.

"How’s it goin’ with what’s his name?”

“Chad? It’s not.” You hate him for bringing up Chad. You harden your face, but it isn't convincing.

Joel nods regretfully and there's a long moment of silence.

“You’re better than him, Trouble."

You don't say anything.

"Shit, you can have any guy you want.”

You can't see his eyes behind his shades, but something in his voice tells you how hungrily he's looking at you.

You still don't say anything.

Joel stretches his leg and the top of his foot grazes your quad, then your inner thigh. All your blood rushes to your loins. You don't move. He strokes your other inner thigh with the arch of his foot, getting a little higher with each pass. A tent forms in his boxers and he adjusts himself again.

“See what you do to guys?” The top of his foot brushes your crotch and you throb. When he tries to slip a toe inside the fabric, you float out of reach.

“You’re not a guy, you're a grown man.”

"Exactly. And he's just a guy."

"A grown man and a pervert." A wave of anger hits you when you remember your stepmother. "And apparently you'll fuck anything."

If he's still listening, he ignores it.

“God damn. Look at you.” He shamelessly palms himself over his boxers and suddenly his body is the only thing on your mind again: The way his naked ass flexed while he looked at you. The length of his cock slamming into her when he came. And now it's right there for your taking. Your core churns needily, slickening itself for what it desperately wants. Too bad he doesn't deserve it.

“Yeah. . . ” Your hands slowly reach behind your back to unfasten your top as you sink down into the water. "Look at me," you echo as you take the halter over your head.

You lie back with your nipples above the water line, lazily floating and barely pushing yourself around in the water, watching him watch you.

He takes a deep breath and his lips part. He digs the heel of his palm into his boxers. You grip the deck with one hand. You hover just far away enough that he can't touch you. He picks up his phone, swipes it, puts it down. He exhales through pursed lips and adjusts himself again.

"Take it out," you tell him, then lean back, jutting your tits into the air again.

"Yes ma'am," he growls.

He reaches into his boxers and holds his hard cock with the tip pointed toward you.

"The whole thing." You nod at it.

He pulls the fabric back.

"Now take your hands away."

"God almighty," he groans as he complies. He sits back with his hands on the pool deck.

Big mistake if your goal is to stay in control. This is going to take more restraint than you thought.

"Take off your sunglasses," you demand.

The sky is getting cloudy enough. He complies.

It’s the only cock you’ve ever seen that actually makes you salivate. Thick, slightly tapered, circumcised, prominent tip. Salt and pepper peeking out from the fabric and creeping up the base. You recall for the hundredth time how he felt pressed up against you by your car the night before.

Your nipples harden and his cock bounces on its own. He inhales deeply through his nose, his chest stretching his sweaty t-shirt. You wet your lips and he exhales loudly. You approach his knees and rest your hands on his thighs, letting your nipples graze his shins. His phone buzzes and he ignores it.

A bead of precum grows at the head of his cock. He clenches his jaw.

“Go ahead,” you tell him as you back away. He gathers the precum with his thumb and begins to stroke himself slowly. He’s proportional - His massive hand is a good fit.

“I’m gonna put this back on in two minutes,” you tell him, dangling your swimsuit top in your hand.

He shakes his head slowly. “Yeah, you would.”

He looks down at himself then back up at you. His eyes darken. The vein on his hand makes you weak - his big, masculine hand wrapped around his thick cock. . .

His breath becomes ragged, his eyelids get heavy.

You disappear below the water, and when you resurface, you come to the edge of the pool between his legs. You plant your hands just above his knees and inhale his musk from several inches away as you watch.

“Thirsty?” he breathes.

“Hell no. Just wanna see what a sicko's cum looks like.”

He smirks, then it fades. The dark, hungry look on his face makes you breathe heavier, throb harder, and twitch.

His ass clenches and he points the tip directly at your neck, then he groans as a hot, white rope meets your collarbone and the halter tie. A few more ropes gurgle into his fist.

“Gross,” you say. But you ache for him so badly. “You know, a gentleman always asks.”

“I'm a sicko, remember?" He dips his hand in the pool, shakes it around, then wipes his hands on his boxers and puts his dick away. "Give me a minute."

You dip your head under the halter tie of your bikini top to put it back on, but you let it float, not covering your breasts. He pushes himself up and grabs his phone. He looks at it and says under his breath, "gotcha, pendejo.” Then tells you, "I've gotta make a call." He pulls on his jeans but leaves them unbuckled. Somehow, that’s even hotter than his pantsless look, but you’re miffed that he got dressed so quickly.

You would've made him take off his shirt, but you love the way it stretches with every move he makes. Half of it is dark with sweat now. His back is a sight to behold as he walks over to the watertight, faux wicker box with the dry towels. You squeeze your thighs together and clench around nothing.

He pulls out two perfectly folded towels and you wonder out loud, "Are you fucking your maid, too?"

"Not this one," he says matter of factly. He drops a towel on the deck near you, then goes into the house.

He stands in his large window, spreads his feet as he does something on his phone, then looks at you as a water jet blasts into your thigh right at crotch level.

How devious of him.

You shift your hips slightly, just like he knew you would, and try to manage your best poker face as you let the jetstream carry you over the edge. You close your eyes before they roll back in your head. Your core implodes and your whole body pulses as a much-needed orgasm is wrenched out of you. Your mouth falls slack and you open your eyes in time to see him watching you with his phone to his ear. He smirks as the jetstream fades, then walks away.

You lay your head in the crook of your arm and let your bikini float near your breasts as you recover, with the occasional aftershock. Then, you hear his truck start up and drive away. Asshole.

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villain-apolog1st · 6 months

Text

Distance (David Rossi x Ex!Reader)

Summary: you have some realizations when your ex comes to town

Tags: NSFW, exes to lovers, lots of emotions, hints of jealousy, reader is down bad for rossi, confession of feelings, clitoral stimulation/fingering, oral sex (rossi’s a munch), [unprotected] PinV sex, assumed birth control, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, (fem!reader)

Translations: dolcezza (honey), gattina (kitten)

A/N: so long but also sweet and sexy. Not sure where this came from but hope you enjoy it !

“Y/N, just finished a case in town. Up for a drink and a chat? -DR”

You read the message over again, heart racing. The sign off, while characteristic, wasn’t necessary since you hadn’t deleted his contact. There was always that small part of you that hoped (prayed, manifested, dreamed) that you would get a text like the one that was currently lighting up your phone.

How long had it been now? Nearly two years, you figured. Your relationship with the renowned FBI agent was a memorable one - full of passion that at times felt all-consuming. But then came your promotion, the realization that long-distance wasn’t feasible (not with your already packed schedules), and a painful but necessary goodbye.

And yet, here you were now, miles away from where you first met but with that same thrumming feeling in your chest that only he brought about. You’d almost been expecting the text - he was no doubt in town for the high profile murder case that had been all over the news. When you had first seen the reports about the Black Jack Killer, you’d (sadistically) hoped it meant that he would be paying your part of the country a visit.

You picked up your phone, staring at the expecting message. Drink and a chat wouldn’t hurt, right? Sure, you’d been trying to move on and sure, it was quite possible that this would set you back. But there was no denying the eagerness you were feeling at the idea of seeing him after so long, hearing his voice and laughter.

Gnawing at your lip, you quickly typed out and sent a response. “That would be nice. There’s a bar on 5th, Fox & Trot. See you at 8?”

Before you could regret your decision and consider blocking him altogether, your phone vibrated with an immediate reply. “Looking forward to it.”

•••

You tightened your coat around you as you made your way to the bar. Despite your nerves, the November air was still cold enough to make you shiver. You had spent the time since his text trying on outfits and doing your hair and makeup, but now you found yourself regretting the short dress you’d decided on.

Lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t even realized you’d made it to the bar. As you pulled out your phone to let him know you’d arrived, you heard the door to the bar open behind you and someone step outside.

“Y/N,” the voice was familiar, making the knot in your stomach tighten. You turned and were greeted by none other than David Rossi, looking at you expectantly with a grin.

You couldn’t help the smile that broke out on your face upon seeing him. “Dave,” you greeted, trying to mask the excitement you were feeling. You could see that the two years had treated him well; his goatee and hair had gained some grey flecks, giving him a salt-and-pepper look.

The agent pulled you in for a hug and you let yourself be enveloped in his arms and surrounded by the familiarity of his cologne. His face was pressed into your hair and you could feel him inhale as he took in your scent. David pulled away after a moment but held onto you to take in your appearance. You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze. “What?”

“Nothing. I just,” he paused, eyes roaming over you. “You look as beautiful as ever. This place has treated you well.”

You prayed he couldn’t tell that your face was on fire, or that the butterflies in your stomach were migrating downwards. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you grinned, eliciting a chuckle from him.

David gestured towards the bar, which was filled with people. “I’d suggest we get out of the cold but it seems like there isn’t room for us in there.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I know the owner, Kevin. There’s a booth saved for us.”

“Well then,” he said, pulling the door open. “After you.”

•••

Inside, you were lead to your booth as promised. The bar was one of your favourite places in the city. It was intimate and classy, and on nights like this it would have local jazz performers playing, creating an inviting atmosphere. You and David settled in, making small talk about your lives as your drink orders arrived.

“So, Kevin, huh? Must be a good friend if he’s saving you seats at his joint.” David’s tone may have been nonchalant but the look in his eyes was anything but.

You took a sip of your drink before answering, amused by his forwardness. “Yes, Kevin and his husband are good friends of mine. They were the first people I got to know well here.”

“Ah,” David gave you a sheepish grin, making you giggle. “Well, do you blame me for wanting to know who you’ve moved on to?”

Your cheeks warmed again, but this time from mild embarrassment. What were you supposed to say? Well, actually Dave, I’m still hung up on you and haven’t really been able to connect with anyone since we broke up.

You opted for deflection instead. “Please,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “If anyone is going to move on to someone new, it would be you.”

“Hey!” David exclaimed, feigning offence. “Are we forgetting who gave whom their number?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at this. It was true, you were the one to slip him your number when you first met him as he was investigating a case. “Touché. But I’m sure I’m not the only one.”

“You’re the only one that mattered, dolcezza.” David said softly. His eyes held your gaze, trying to gauge your reaction. You could feel warmth spreading under your skin at his words, the small glimmer of hope you were afraid to entertain.

Suddenly, the waiter came by with another round of drinks and you couldn’t be more grateful. You cleared your throat and took a generous sip of your drink, before shifting the conversation to your professional lives. “How’s your team doing? Morgan, Emily. All of them.”

The change of subject was clear to David, and he tried to mask his disappointment. The two of you began talking about work - David about the team and their recent successes, and you about all you’ve accomplished since your promotion.

You didn’t even realize how much time had flown by until you glanced down at your phone hours later. Conversation with David was always easy and never-ending, and this night was no exception. Ever the gentleman, he covered the bill and promptly decided he would be walking you home.

•••

Outside, the two of you began the short walk to your place. It had gotten colder and David offered his arm to you, which you accepted gratefully. Arm in arm, you could almost pretend that nothing had changed in the last two years, that this was just another night.

David was the first to break the silence. “So, is it fair for me to assume there’s no special someone waiting up for you tonight?”

“You’re the profiler, aren’t you?” You teased. “You tell me.”

“Well,” David started. The two of you had come to a stop, standing at the foot of the stairs to your front door. He was standing in front of you now, so close that you could see the fine lines decorating his face, evidence of time and the nature of his job. “I would say that no, there isn’t someone waiting up. And I would go as far as to say that, like me, that hasn’t been the case since we split up.”

“Y/N,” he continued, an earnest look in his eyes. “I regret it. I regret breaking up, I regret letting you leave like that. I’ve missed you ever since.”

Your chest felt tight from your proximity and from David’s words. He was verbalizing exactly how you felt, and yet you were still unsure.

“Dave…” you began, but he cut you off. “Don’t try to tell me you don’t feel the same, Y/N. If you want me to leave, I’ll leave. But don’t lie to me.” You felt your heart squeeze at the raw emotion plain on his face.

You sighed softly as David’s hand came up to brush your hair away from your face before settling against your cheek. You found yourself leaning into his touch, his palm cradling your cheek. “I don’t want you to leave,” you admitted, almost in defeat. “I’ve missed you too, Dave. More than you could know.”

David wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered, your mouths so close that you could feel his breath against your skin. “Say it and I’ll go, Y/N.”

You could feel heat pooling low inside you, your nerves buzzing from having him so close to you again. “I won’t,” you said breathily.

Suddenly, his lips were on yours, soft yet hungry. He held you tight against him and you moaned, savouring the feeling of his mouth on yours and his tongue slipping between your lips.

The two of you broke the kiss, breathless. You brought your mouth close to David’s ear and whispered, “Let’s get inside.”

•••

The door had hardly shut before David had you against the wall and was shrugging your coat off, his own following suit. You brought his mouth back down to you, revelling in the familiar feel of his lips against yours. His hands were gripping your hips and you could feel your dress riding up as he slotted his thigh between your legs. You moaned into his mouth while grinding down, enjoying the pressure against your mound.

“There’s the Y/N I know,” David murmured into your ear. “Always desperate for more.” He suddenly pulled his leg away but before you could protest, his hand was sliding under the hem of your dress and into your panties.

“Fuck,” you gasped out when his fingers made contact with your clit. David watched you intently, lips parted, as he began rubbing circles around your clit.

“So wet for me, gattina,” he whispered before trailing kisses along your jaw. The combined feeling of him sucking on your neck and his experienced fingers on your clit had your back arching off the wall as you came.

David withdrew his fingers as you came down from your orgasm, panting. He kept his gaze on you as he sucked his fingers clean of your juices, moaning as he savoured your taste. “Even better than I remember,” he smirked.

Grinning, you pressed your mouth back against his, tasting yourself on him. “Why don’t we take this upstairs,” you teased, taking his hand to lead him ro your room.

•••

Now it was your turn to pounce on David. You unbuttoned his shirt as you walked him backwards to the bed. You hardly gave him time to lay down before you were straddling him, lips back on his and your tongue exploring his mouth.

You could feel his bulge beneath you and you groaned, grinding down against him. “Fuck, Y/N,” David panted. His hands were tight around your hips and he suddenly flipped you over so that you were under him instead. “Hey!” You exclaimed.

David chuckled darkly but didn’t say anything, opting instead to move his mouth towards your chest. He slipped the straps of your dress down your shoulders until your tits were exposed before attaching his mouth to your nipple, swirling and sucking expertly.

“Beautiful,” he murmured as he continued travelling downwards. He pulled your dress down the rest of the way and discarded it off to the side, returning his focus to your centre which was scantily clad by the lace panties you had on.

You writhed under him as he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down. You could feel his breath against your centre as he used two fingers to hold your folds open. David held your gaze as his mouth made contact with your centre, making you gasp. His tongue gently flicked your clit, running through your folds to collect your juices.

“Dave,” you moaned as he sucked on your clit, his fingers teasing and slowly entering your soaking hole. He picked up the pace, his tongue making you whimper as he brought you closer to the edge. Instinctively, your thighs tried to close together but David held them apart, forcing you to feel the full brunt of the pleasure. You could see the smug look in his eyes before he brought you to orgasm for the second time, your body arching and writhing on the bed as he held you down.

David brought his mouth back up to yours in a sweet, deep kiss after you came down from your high. “Dave,” you mumbled between kisses. “I need to feel you in me.”

With his body over yours, you were able to reach down and unbuckle his belt, making him smile against your lips. He pulled off the rest of his clothes before kneeling in between your legs.

You felt him slowly guide his tip through your folds, and you gasped when you felt him nudge your still-sensitive clit. Gently, he began pushing his cock into your hole. You hissed as he pushed deeper, the sharp pain giving way to pleasure quickly.

“That’s my girl,” David praised from above you. “God, you’re tight, Y/N.” He lowered himself onto you until his face was hovering over yours. He then began a tortuous rhythm of drawing his cock almost all the way out before filling you back up again.“Fuck,” you moaned in his ear. “I’ve missed your cock.” Your words fuelled him, and he met your mouth again in a heated kiss, moaning.

Suddenly, he began slowing his pace until you were whining, and guided you so that you were on all fours by the edge of the bed and he was standing behind you. You gripped your sheets as he began thrusting his cock deep inside you again, making you whimper with pleasure.

“Now this is a sight I’ve missed,” David grunted from above you. “You take my cock so well, gattina.”

You could tell he was nearing the edge; his pace was getting more erratic and you could feel his cock pulsing inside you. Your pussy clenched with your own building orgasm and began milking David’s cock with every thrust. “Come, come for me baby,” you moaned.

“Agh, fuck,” David groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. You suddenly felt his cock twitch and release his load just as waves of pleasure rocked through your body.

Both of you collapsed back into bed, covered in sweat. “You’re incredible, Y/N,” David murmured against your skin. You smiled and pressed a sweet kiss onto his lips before you untangled yourself from him to clean yourself up. Afterwards, you slipped back under the covers. David welcomed you into his arms again where you eventually fell asleep, head nestled against his chest.

#c: david rossi #david rossi #david rossi smut #rossi x reader #david rossi criminal minds #david rossi x reader #david rossi x fem!reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #bau #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds oneshot #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan #spencer reid x reader

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grandlinedreams · 6 months

Note

Will I tire of sending Law requests? Never. So bare with me.

Law meets a girl on an island and they hit it off. She wants to go with him, but he says the sea is too dangerous for her. And he admits he likes her before taking off.

Instead of being broken hearted, she takes this as motivation to go out to sea and find him.

After months she finds him, and after slapping him into the next century, she tells him she likes him too. And maybe after some fluff, maybe have her mention not being left behind because “there’s only so many times you can handle being slapped by me”

Hiya!! I can absolutely do this minus the slapping ghlkjadf

Notes: reader has Ruby's weapon from rwby bc why not even though I've not seen that in years

[heads up!: afab/fem aligned reader, fluff, some silliness, angst, cursing, implied drinking]

You've been out on the sea six months.

One hundred and eighty-two days ㅡ down to the exact day. Gone is the rickety sloop you'd ventured from your home on ㅡ and you'd bartered, sweet-talked, and bargained your way into a ship far better than that.

You've even made a name for yourself, though it's been through some odd mix of unfortunate circumstance and luck ㅡ but you're still no closer to your goal.

Because you're not looking for something, you're looking for someone. And that in and of itself is a drop in the bucket because there are a thousand places he could be, and a thousand that he couldn't.

But as with all places that you stop at, you have to start somewhere ㅡ and so you start at the local bar. It's the best place, after all ㅡ liquored mouths tend to talk the loudest, and you're good at listening.

ㅡ

"You're not from around here, are ya?"

You smile against the rim of your drink before you set it down, watching the ice cubes clink. "What gave it away?"

"The fact ya aren't absolutely trashed off yer rocker," your new companion snickers. He's an older man somewhere in the range of salt and pepper hair and a couple of wrinkles that deep when he grins. "And that ship of yours out at the harbor."

You blink and shift in your seat, letting your fingers drift over the rectangular metal pack at your thigh.

"Relax, missy. Not lookin' for trouble." Your companion eyes you. "Ya must be lookin' for someone if yer here though."

You pick your drink up, sipping from it carefully. "You're right, I am." Your new friend watches as you turn to rummage in your pocket, producing a worn, battered piece of paper and unfolding it.

It's a wanted poster, creases made for how often you've shown it ㅡ and you point to the photo. "Have you seen this man?"

Your companion leans back, humming thoughtfully. "I think I saw 'im a couple days ago. He 'n his crew were stopping for supplies at the next island, I think. But isn't heㅡ"

"Thank-you," you say, folding the paper up and tucking it away before you toss a handful of beri onto the table and stand. "For the drink, and for you. You've been very helpful."

The man watches you go, then glances down at the beri, metal shining dully in the light. "What's a bounty hunter want with a war lord?"

ㅡ

You arrive at the next island by mid-afternoon the next day. Hungry and more than a little exhausted, your mood is far from stellar when you step foot on the dock.

"First food, then a nap, then I'll ask around," you mumble to yourself as you stretch, stifling a yawn. "He's turning into more trouble than I bargained for..."

Part of you often wonders what you're even doing ㅡ leaving your home behind, embarking entirely alone on the basis of talking to someone who'd left you without so much as a goodbye.

Correction, he had ㅡ and it'd sucked.

"Who leaves somebody with 'if it were safer I'd take you with me but it's dangerous no matter how I feel' as a goodbye? That sucked shit!" You grouse, kicking at a loose stone. "Trafalgar Law, you're a jerk."

And a warlord, apparently ㅡ he'd forgotten to mention that. And you suppose you have to commend yourself ㅡ most girls in your situation would probably have sulked and moped, maybe stared out at the sea like a grief stricken widow.

You, on the other hand, had simply sulked for two days before scowling and stomping out of your house and declaring that you were going to track the jerk down and demand an apology and a proper confession because that one sucked.

Six months and a growing reputation as a bounty hunter (whoops) later, here you are. Starving, tired, and desperately hoping Law and his crew are still here.

You're not sure what to do if they aren't. Will you keep chasing him, doom yourself to an eternal game of cat and mouse? You're not even sure he feels the way he had before, or if he'd ever felt that way in the first place ㅡ what if it'd just been to placate you?

No, you don't need to fall into that line of thinking ㅡ you're just tired, that's all. And hungry.

You trudge your way towards the nearest restaurant, footsteps heavy as you stagger your way to a table and slap a handful of beri down when a waiter approaches you. "Whatever is the recommended meal, please."

If there's judgement about how bedraggled you must look (if you look how you feel), you don't hear it ㅡ nor do you care.

Once your stomach has stopped rumbling enough to suggest that it's gnawing on itself, you find the energy to look around, catching the handful of wanted posters tacked to a board near the door.

If nothing else, at least you have means to continue that turn of events. Once your meal is finished, you leave a tip and stand, snagging one of the posters on your way out.

Certain that you haven't noticed them, a pair of men stand a few minutes after you leave, sharing a look before they move to follow you.

ㅡ

You notice the pair following you in under five minutes. For starters, they're nowhere near as sneaky as they think they are ㅡ and while your observation skills need refining, you're not completely without them.

"Alright, you two." You come to a stop, hand at your thigh, ready to engage the metal pack with a single touch. "What do you want?"

"You're a bounty hunter," one of them starts, eyeing you warily. "We've seen your face before."

"Really," you answer dryly. "Good for you. I'm not in the mood for small fry, so if you leave now, I'll pretend I didn't see you."

You really, truly are not in the mood to deal with these two ㅡ you're tired damn it, you want to sleep.

You hear the click of a gun cocking, and you sigh as you press the shallow button ㅡ and watch as your weapon springs to life with a series of sleek metallic clicks. "Alright," you sigh, "you asked for it."

ㅡ

"Excuse me," you say, voice strained for the effort it takes to haul the two unconscous knuckleheads behind you and prop them up against the kickboard of the bar counter. "Two questions. Where is an inn or a hotel or something, and where can I turn these two in for their bounty?"

The bartender blinks at you, then at the unconscious (and lightly bleeding) pair behind you. "Uh..."

Across the room, however, you're being watched again. This time not from small time pirates or thugs. Rather, a set of golden eyes lock on you, trying to parse out where he knows you from ㅡ and then narrowing when it hits him.

Several sets of eyes lock on him as he stands, somewhere between confusion and concern as he weaves around tables, intent on reaching you.

A fist in the back of your shirt is not what you expect ㅡ nor is the abrupt lurch backwards, making you windmill your arms to keep your balance, only to lose it anyways as you're hauled towards the exit.

"Hey!" You snap, squirming to free yourself with one hand as the other goes to deploy your weapon, "what is your problem?"

"My problem," a familiar voice says as they stop, "is that you're here."

You bristle as you wrench free, narrowed eyes sweeping up to lock with gold, blazing beneath a very familiar cap, spotted with the motif of a snow leopard.

And after six months of searching, you've found Trafalgar Law.

ㅡ

Law stares at you, wholly unchanged since you last saw him save for the look of irritation on his face. "Explain."

Of all the places he'd thought to see you again, it wasn't here ㅡ because truthfully, he hadn't been expecting to ever see you again at all. He'd left you in your tiny island town, turned, and refused to look back.

"Explain what?" Your head tips, and his teeth grit.

"This," he says, waving at the cruel curve of metal that arcs over your head from the metal pole in your hand, "and what you're doing here."

You still, and the playful glimmer in your eyes snuffs out like a candle. "What I'm doing here?" You laugh, the sound incredulous and tinted with a hint of hysteria. "What I'm doing here? I was looking for you!"

Law tenses. "For me? Why?"

"Because, you asshole," you snarl, eyes blazing, "you broke my heart!"

ㅡ

"Did you really leave her like that captain? That's cold."

Law's eyes flick to Penguin. "Eavesdropping is an awful habit to pick up."

Penguin shrugs. "We weren't, she was yelling at you pretty loud."

And you had ㅡ close to shrieking as you'd poured out every frustration over the last six months trying to find him, and what he'd done to incite it.

And then you'd cried. One tear, then two ㅡ hiccuping as you tried to stem the flow, weapon put away in favor of pressing your palms to your eyes.

Law had seen no other option but to bring you back to where he and the others were staying, chest aching for the rough way you'd yanked from his touch and retreated to one of the rooms ㅡ his room, ironically.

"What are you going to do?" Bepo watches him, and Law wonders what exactly they're expecting him to do as he sighs and stands, heading for his room.

"What I have to."

ㅡ

"Go away."

Law stares at your back as he steps into the room, watches you tense as he shuts the door. "We need to talk."

"I told you to go away."

"This is my room, technically." He approaches, perching himself on the edge of the bed. "You don't have to talk to me, but listen."

"Why should I?"

"Just listen to me, damn it!" He pauses and then tries again, softer. "Please."

You still won't look at him. "Fine."

Law sighs, trying to collect his thoughts before he says something that will get him into even deeper trouble with you. Had he meant what he said before he left? Yes, he had ㅡ but he hadn't meant for it to be an invitation for you to come find him.

"I'm...sorry. For leaving you the way that I did. But I stand by the fact the sea is dangerousㅡ"

"Made it just fine on my own so far."

Law bites his tongue, pushes back the snappy retort that you'd gotten lucky so far. Even though it's clear you have your own skillset, and that you can hold your own.

Maybe he'd been wrong.

"You'll get yourself killed if you're alone." He doesn't want that, it's the very reason he left you there ㅡ that you'd be safe. "Which is why," he continues before you can snap back, "...I want you to come with me."

You shift, and your eyes lock. "What?"

"Come with me," he repeats. "My crew. On the Polar Tang."

You sit upright. "You better not be saying that to get me to forgive you, Trafalgar Law. It's going to take a lot more thanㅡ"

He snatches your wrist, yanking you in for a clumsy kiss that you pull away from quickly.

"Seriously?" You eye him, then turn away with a huff. "If I join you, I have two conditions."

He raises an eyebrow. "And those are?"

"You still owe me for that shitty and now that shitty kiss. This isn't a romance novel, you jerk."

#ㅡmine.#one piece scenario #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #ㅡanswered.#this took so fucking long i'm sorry

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twilightsagasworld · 13 days

Text

Paul x Reader

Imagine

Requested by @littlemissvenom0

It disgusted you to a deep degree, and Leah had warned you long before you started dating that Paul was a loose guy, never being able to fully commit to something.

It wasn’t that your relationship even felt real. Paul was incredibly distant and avoided doing anything that put you two in the same space for too long. Like he was some royal who couldn’t even entertain the idea of mingling with poverty.

You were again reminded of this when you and Leah hung out today. The weather was cloudy and the remnants of earlier rain was still around, making everything wet. You and Leah were out in the forest near the river border of the tribal grounds.

“I don’t understand why you just don’t break up with him, (y/n). You guys haven’t even acted like a real couple for months”

You sighed while rolling up your vest sleeves, shifting your position on the damp clump of rocks you two were sat on. Distant laughter was in the background, coming from the Black residence.

Leah’s head turned to you, waiting patiently as you puffed your cheeks before letting the air go.

“Yeah, I know, I know… “ you took a pause, tossing a pebble down to the river below you, “I geuss I just hope he’ll come around before I do decide to break it off”

Leah rolls her eyes, “I can’t believe you’re holding on to some slim piece of hope that he’ll maybe turn into some prince charming or whatever, its not”

You frown slightly, “You obviously don't think I should''. Your cousin gives you an exasperated expression, “All I see is him flirting with every girl within a few feet of him, while you stay back all embarrassed all the time, it's getting frustrating and I keep having to listen to him think about it everyday. You have to do something about it”

You look away, biting the inside of your cheek as you listen to her talk. Truth be told you knew your relationship with Paul could only go one of two ways, either you break up with him, or he miraculously turns from his ways and realises how much he actually loves you, if he even does love you.

“You’re right Leah” you stand up, pulling your cousin up with you. “I think it’s time I have a serious talk with him”. You two make your way to the Black residence in a matter of minutes, just as the rain comes pouring down around you.

You and Leah made it just in time to see Paul getting it on with a brunette you absolutely didn’t think you’d see again. “Isnt that Jessica?!” You hear Leah from a few feet behind you. You couldn’t believe it, Paul knew you didn’t like Jessica at all, she was as pretentious and bratty as they come and seeing Paul make put with her under Billy’s porch roof just triggered something in you.

Your breathing got heavy, a heat like you’ve never felt before started spreading though your veins, Leah’s eyes got wide and she called for Sam who came rushing out of the cabin, Quil and Embry on his tail.

“Hey! (Y/n), calm down!”

Sam was standing a bit back. You couldn’t focus on him right now, steam was pouring off your skin and you winced and yelped as you felt your skin and bones move inside you. Leah rushed away from you just in time as you recklessly shifted into a medium sized salt and pepper toned wolf. You stumbled as you threw yourself off balance and landed disgracefully in the muddy grass. No one moved, Paul had already started making his way down when Embry held him back.

You didn’t wait to see or hear what was going on as you stumbled and ran into the forest, Leah’s hollering voice yelling for you to wait and come back.

•••

“ I thought she didn’t have the wolf gene in her?!”

“ I know, im pretty sure everyone here thought so”

The wolf pack, along with Billy Black all crowded Billy’s small living room. The rain was still going hard and you had left the grounds 10 minutes earlier. Sam and Billy were in a heated talk.

Paul threw his hands up,and pushed himself out of the chair, “I’m going after her-“ Leah grabs Paul’s arm, “No way! You think she wants to look at your ugly face right now? You’re the reason she turned !”

Paul got in Leah’s face, but she wasn’t intimidated, “What did you just say?!”

“Enough!”

Sam’s authoritarian voice broke them apart and a silence filled the room, albeit tense. Billy cleared his throat and spoke to Sam, “I think you should be the one to go look for (y/n), she trusts you, and you’re the only one who could handle another accident”

Paul huffed and stormed out, no one bothered to stop him.

•••

“(Y/n)!”

Sam had been searching the woods for hours, but it was futile, he didn’t think she’d have gone so far from the reservation.

Sam shifted into his wolf form as a last attempt to find her.

He stood still in the dark forest. Listening.

Help

His ears twitched to the front.

Paul

Help

Its so cold

Sam didn’t hesitate now as he ran forward towards the mountains. Wherever (y/n) was, she was in trouble.

It wasn’t long before he reached the base of a mountain, rain falling hard around him and mud splattered through his wet fur. He stuck his nose to the ground as he took a deep sniff, letting the aromas and smell of the forest drift through his senses until he latched onto a sweeter scent, perfume. He followed the scent, leading closer and closer to a rushing river where he finally found her.

(Y/n) was back human now, and unfortunately in the nude as far as Sam could tell. But he acted quickly, coming to his senses as he rushed to (y/n), laying half in the river and on the riverbank. As gently as he possibly could while in his wolf form, Sam pulled her completely put of the river. Her body had turned from a tanned olive to pale and sickly. He brushed past the fact that she was bare and pawed at her to wake her up. Moments later her eyes fluttered open slowly, she looked sluggishly up at him and struggled to push herself up as best she could. Sam laid flat to allow (y/n) to slide herself onto his back.

•••

Leah rushed out of Billy’s house as soon as she heard Sam’s thoughts. The rest of the pack behind her.

They all gathered outside as Sam came jogging through the treeline, still in wolf form. A pale body hung onto him and he came to a still infront of the group. Paul ran forward and scooped (y/n) from Sam’s back, pulling her protectively into his body as he and Leah entered Billy’s place.

Billy motioned for them to take (y/n) into Jacobs old bedroom as he rolled to a linin closet and took out heavy blankets to give to Leah. “Thanks Billy” Leah took the pile and pushed Paul out of the bedroom, he looked offended but didn’t push it and went back into Billy’s living room where only Sam was waiting, now human and dressed in jean shorts.

Billy sighed, “Leave her be for now, go home” Sam nodded and moved to leave, Paul stayed sat, Billy stared pointedly, “You too, Paul”. Paul stayed put, leg twitching, “No way, not until she wakes up, I have to see her open her eyes Billy”. Not wanting to make a scene Billy let Paul be.

•••

(Y/n) didn’t wake up that night, or the next day.

It took a week for her complexion to return.

And when she did wake up, Paul was by her side, tear uncharacteristically streaming down his face as he grabbed her hands and kissed them.

(Y/n) frowned, “Paul?… where am I?”

“You’re at Billy’s place, you were asleep for a week, I thought… “ Pauled rubbed his eyes, “Forget it, how do you feel?” He let go of her hands as she sat up, she popped her back, no longer bare as Leah had gone to fetch clothes for her.

Paul stepped back, guilt covering his face. “Whats that look for Paul?”. (Y/n) sat on the edge of the bed, sluggish and confused.

“Im so so so sorry (y/n)…”

Her eyes went wide. This was a Paul she had never seen before. She kept quiet.

“I screwed up by doing what I did, but it was because I was scared”

“Scared?” She gave him an umimpressed look.

He nodded, “Believe it or not, I thought I could push you away because I was scared of what I was feeling for you, I never expected it to happen with you”

She frowned, standing up slowly and steadily, “What? What didn’t you expect Paul?”

His words froze her in her place.

“I imprinted on you (y/n)”

And apparently that was all it took for her to collapse back on the bed, tears coming to the front.

She struggled to find the words, but Paul seemed to hear what she was thinking.

Paul spent the better half of the night explaining to (y/n) what happened, why it happened and why he did what he did. He got a scorching red hand print on his cheek by the end of it, along with a heavy scolding. But not forgiveness. (Y/n) explained that she couldn’t forgive him right off the bat, although his intentions were understandable, he did wrong by her and to her by what he did with all those women, especially Jessica.

She needed time.

And Paul gave her that, without a word against it.

•••

It took (y/n) 3 months to fully forgive Paul.

Another 4 months to agree on dating.

And all the while Paul was respectful of (y/n)’s wishes and compromises.

Leah gave him an earful telepathically and verbally almost every chance she got.

But by the end of the year, they were happier than they were before. Although their relationship was far from perfect, and they argued still, they were happy. Paul no longer went out of his way to apite her and make her jealous and (y/n) put her foot down alot more.

Leah held a grudge against Paul a bit longer but eventually gave in.

Sam and the pack helped (y/n) integrate into the wolf pack and train her.

For now, all was well.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

Thank you dear reader.

And thank you to littlemissvenom0 for requesting this.

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight x reader #jasper hale #twilight carlisle #edward cullen #twilight-x-reader #alistair+twilight #carlisle-cullen-x-reader #alice cullen #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote #wolf pack #leah clearwater #Spotify

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karniss-bg3 · 7 months

Text

Midnight Snack

In the late hours of the evening Tav found themselves hungry. Moonrise was uncharacteristically quiet and still, many of its denizens out on patrol or assigned to various parts of the withered city. Tav enjoyed these rare moments of solace and solitude especially considering how often they were under scrutiny by the dark residents. They wandered into the kitchen, an area that was in various states of cleanliness. Pots and pans were scattered about haphazardly and a slightly musty aroma lingered in the air likely from the build-up of dust and rot. Despite this Tav wasn’t willing to sacrifice a proper meal regardless of their surroundings.

They got to work gathering what pans and utensils they could scavenge which still held promise, dumping them into a wash basin to give a good scrub down. While elbow deep in the soapy water their ears pricked when they heard a familiar clicking nearby. However, it wasn’t at ground level. Rather it was along the walls within the room, shifting as it seemed to come closer. Tav knew that sound, growing accustomed to it in their short time in Moonrise. Carefully they let their gaze drift to their peripheral managing to catch a fleeting glance of a certain drider looming nearby, moon lantern suspiciously absent. Kar’niss had likely heard the commotion and opted to come investigate, perched on one of the walls close to the ceiling. Unfortunately, he was too large to walk upside down but he did take advantage of the darker corners to keep himself moderately concealed. Tav pretended not to notice resuming the task at hand but kept an ear out all the same.

Eventually they finished cleaning and wandered over to the wood stove, tossing in a few logs and lighting it with a fire cantrip. A fire roared into life with such fervor that Kar’niss backed away and smushed himself tighter into the corner, quietly hissing to himself. Tav said nothing as they dusted off their hands. They knelt down next to their travelers pack digging through the contents until they found the ingredients they were after. Much of the available food in this area was rotten or less than ideal, long past its expiration date. It made Tav thankful that they had extra supplies from their journey through the mountain pass. They cut up sausages, onions, carrots and a bit of garlic which were dumped into the heated pan on the stove top. The ingredients started to sizzle on contact, a notion that caught the drider’s attention, leaning forward with a hint of curiosity while maintaining a wide gap of distance.

“Hungry?” Tav asked, keeping their gaze on the food.

Kar’niss jerked from some surprise, gazing about with some haste as if confused on who Tav was asking. He realized no one else was in the room bar the pair of them which made him shift with some nerves.

“We do not eat what True Soul eats,” his voice quiet.

Tav used a spatula to stir the contents of the pan to prevent it from burning, the various aromas mingling together drowning out the musty smell of the room. “A shame, this is a good meal. Also, you can call me Tav if you wish. True Soul sounds so...formal.”

Kar’niss’ eyes squinted, crossing his arms over his chest. “No, Majesty bids we address you as She wills it.”

Tav hummed and nodded knowing better than to push the issue further. They went back to cooking, grabbing a bit of lemon to squeeze over the meat for added kick and finally some salt and pepper to taste. “Curiously, what is it you do eat?” Kar’niss took a cautious step closer, more of his twisted form revealed in the dim light. “Blood. We must feed every four days, more often is ideal.”

“Heh, sounds like someone I know,” they mused. “Well are you able to at least have a taste? You still have a mouth, seems silly that you can’t at least sample what I’ve made.”

The drider pressed his lips into a thin line. “We can, but why would we? Pointless.”

Tav dumped the contents of the pan onto a plate, using a fork to scrape it into a manageable pile. They’d then wander over to where Kar’niss was perched, peering up at him in his cozy corner.

“Because I still owe you for saving my skin the other day. I’d be a corpse if you hadn’t acted quickly. This isn’t much of a thank you, granted, but it is a start.” They’d smile and stab the fork into the meat and vegetables. “You’ll have to come down though, I’m unable to reach you from here.”

A deep, vibrating growl rumbled in Kar’niss’ throat although it was not threatening, more like confused annoyance. At first it seemed he had no intention of answering the request, perfectly happy high up on the wall away from the perceived pest. Tav waited patiently able to see the mental journey Kar’niss was going through due to his conflicted expressions.

“Tch, if it pleases the True Soul then it also pleases our Queen,” Kar’niss concluded.

Hesitantly Kar’niss descended, his legs clinging to the stone walls barely managing to keep him aloft. He’d lean down as Tav lifted up their arm, extending the fork toward his mouth once in range. The former drow sniffed at the collection of food skewered through the metal prongs, his head jerking back as if the smell offended him.

“Come now, it’s not as bad as all that. Just one bite and I promise I’ll let you be,” Tav said.

Kar’niss sighed, his reddish eyes darting between the fork and Tav, his arms defiantly crossed over his chest. He leaned closer, his lips trembling as if he worried the food would bite back. With a sharp snap of his head his mouth took in most of the fork, lips forming a seal. He’d then jerk back using his lips to free the food stuffs from captivity, backing up and away from Tav as he did so. With his mouth full at first he looked stumped as if unsure what to do. Who knows how long it had been since he’d consumed solids and his recent inexperience was showing. Tav looked on but allowed Kar’niss to take his time, recalling how temperamental the drider could be.

He’d soon will his jaws into working, fangs gnashing awkwardly at the portion with some struggle. Thankfully it hadn’t been a large serving, soon conquering the morsels and alleviating his mouth with an audible gulp. His expression scrunched and a shiver ran down his spine as if the entire performance was most unholy. “Awful. Tastes like sawdust,” He concluded with a spit. He stuck his tongue out and began furiously wiping his palms over the surface to rid himself of any remaining particles.

Tav blinked at his assessment before a wide smile creased their lips, followed by an amused chuckle.

“I suppose I didn’t know what I expected. Your taste buds were probably permanently altered when you changed considering your new diet. As you said, pointless. I thank you for humoring me all the same, Kar’niss.” Tav scooped up a fork full for themselves, popping it into their mouth with a pleased crunch. They didn’t seem concerned about eating after the drider, something he took notice of.

Tav retreated to a nearby table to sit and finish their meal. Even though their interaction appeared to have concluded, Kar’niss remained. He smacked his lips together, rolling his tongue behind his teeth, trying to collect a hint of the offerings natural taste. Alas it appeared such was not meant to be. He peered at Tav with some confusion. They were easily the most bizarre True Soul he’d ever encountered and he wasn’t sure what to make of them. He rubbed the back of his neck while his eyes blinked intermittently out of sync, watching the strange individual while they ate.

“I do have a question,” Tav began between bites, “before you changed, what did you like to eat?”

The question caught him off guard, his mouth opening as if to speak yet his voice escaped him. It took him time to think it over to recall such a distant memory, scanning the depths of his broken mind. He shrank in place when he dug too deep, memories resurfacing in bits and pieces, many of which made his stomach churn. It took real effort to shove certain thoughts away in order to focus on what he wanted to recall.

“Grilled...rothé. I liked grilled rothé and zurkhwood mushrooms.”

“Ah, underdark cuisine. Makes sense. Well, if I can ever get my hands on either maybe I can make it for you. It might taste like sawdust but it’ll be a nice break from blood, hm?” Tav finished off their plate feeling far more sated.

The drider’s face scrunched up with some anger, crawling down the wall to step on the floor below. “Why does True Soul care? We do not need these things! All that matters is our Majesty’s will, Her desires! We must focus on guiding more faithful to Her path and that should be your only concern.”

Tav looked up from their empty plate as Kar’niss stomped over, his form tall and imposing especially with Tav seated as they were. They’d look up at him able to glean the conflicted wave of emotions etched in his expression.

“Are you not one of her faithful?”

“Tch, we are Her most faithful!”

“Who is to say I was not sent here to reward you for your service?”

Kar’niss felt every muscle in his torso tense in unison as if a minotaur had punched him in the chest. He backed down from the table lifting one hand to grasp at his hair, bewildered by such a bold statement.

“What is the True Soul suggesting?” “I am suggesting that our Queen sent me to look out for you. She led me to the lyre, She led me through the mountain pass, and She led me to you. Is it really such a far fetched notion, after everything you’ve done?”

Tav knew what they said was dishonest and they were playing a dangerous game. But they couldn’t hope to make leeway unless they humored the notion of the Absolute to some degree. Their very presence at Moonrise risked being compromised at any given moment. They had spoken with many in the tower and deemed most of them beyond saving. Most, except for Kar’niss. Tav’s gaze settled firmly on Kar’niss maintaining their composure hoping their deception wouldn’t be perceived.

Perhaps it was because Kar’niss desperately wanted approval from the Absolute, or perhaps his mind was far too fragile and scrambled to notice, but he seemed to believe the statement that was made. His sharp fingertips scratched the front of his throat, his bulbous backside wiggling with a clumsy wag.

“Sh-She has...rewarded us,” He whispered under his breath. The hint of moisture collected in the corners of his primary pair of eyes, a shaken breath pulled deep into his lungs. “Majesty, have you really heard us? We are worthy of your mercy?”

Tav looked on while Kar’niss processed everything. It broke their heart to see the drider like this, lost to the cult mentality and the desperate search for acceptance. They knew they had a long road ahead but if they could disconnect Kar’niss from the rest of Her followers, perhaps healing could begin. They rose from the chair, collecting their empty plate to dump in the nearby wash bin. They’d approach Kar’niss whose gaze seemed transfixed on the ceiling, delivering silent, tear-filled prayers to his savior.

“You are worthy of more than just mercy, Kar’niss. Majesty has seen the sacrifices you’ve made, as well as the suffering that came with it. She might not always speak to us but she shows her approval in other ways.” Tav paused and bit their lower lip as a thought came to them. “Our Queen has just spoken to me. Tomorrow evening meet me here after the patrols have left.”

Kar’niss swallowed heavily, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “She speaks?! What did She say, True Soul?”

“I can’t tell you, not yet. Tomorrow all will be revealed. Trust in our Queen and all will be well, alright?”

“Y-Yes...yes, She knows what is best, she will protect us with her endless wisdom. We will return here tomorrow.”

Kar’niss wouldn’t spare a moment more loitering in the kitchen. He had to retrieve his moon lantern from Balthazar, he needed to be prepared for what was on the horizon. He climbed back up the wall and headed for a hole in the ceiling, barely managing to squeeze his large body through, entering the second floor. Tav stood there and watched him retreat, exhaling a heavy breath of relief. That was close, too close. They had plans of their own now and the clock was ticking. They’d grab their pack and hoist it over their shoulder, the cogs in their mind working overtime.

“I really hope this works, for his sake and mine.”

#baldur's gate 3 #kar'niss #drider #bg3 #karniss #baldurs gate 3 #karniss x tav #sfw #karniss fanfic #bg3 fanfic #my writing #kar'niss fanfic #kar'niss x tav

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justsome-di · 1 year

Photo

Now a Pulitzer Prize winning book (don’t fact check this, just trust me) and featured on Obama’s 2023 Summer Reading List!

You should be reading Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs! Why? See above.

It’s a good story if I do say so myself. And if you read it, you’re a cool kid. Don’t you want to be a cool kid? This is something called peer pressure, and it usually works.

But for real, if you read Nobody Ends Up Dead then you’re going to go on a good adventure with good characters I guarantee you will love. Not to brag, but it is a pretty good story. There’s funny one-liners, a cute plot, and relatable characters that have been developed for years. Just heed warnings at the beginning of chapters. NEUD deals with some heavy topics such as eating disorders.

NEUD is officially all online for free. But you can still access bonus chapters and short stories on Patreon for only $4.

Links:

AO3

Wattpad

Patreon (Patrons had early access to the whole novel and also get exclusive short stories with the characters and sneak peaks for new projects!)

Netflix Previews

Characters’ Playlists

You can also check out my carrd if there are any updates to how/where I post, it’ll probably be the most accurate place to find new or updated links.

Transcript under cut:

The Story is Dope

A New York office worker and a sex worker get set up on a date--one thinking it's a real blind date, the other under the impression it's an ordinary appointment. After realizing it was all a shitty prank, they set out for revenge. Their plan: show up to an upcoming Halloween office party as a genuine couple, convincing the pranksters they genuinely fell in love and refusing to let themselves become the butt of the joke.

Our main characters are Alex, an awkward admin assistant for a medical company who hasn't been on a date since he was a teenager, and Damián, a sex worker who seems way out of Alex's league but keeps insisting on spending time with him so they can perfect their revenge scheme.

The novel features a diverse cast and explores sex positivity. I also like to believe that it portrays sex work well. Damián is a hardworking man, doing what he loves, and meeting mostly great people along the way--but he also would benefit greatly if sex work was decriminalized and therefore had better resources at his disposal.

If you're looking for a story with LGBT characters that's mostly light-hearted but still packs a punch every few chapters, this is it! Overall, it's a happy story.

The Characters!

oh boy the characters!

we got Damián who's hardworking and doting on his lil bro but oh wow does he have some angst

we got Alex who is nothing more than a burning ball of anxiety trying his best--all too relatable

Leo, Damián's bro, is an ally, and he will make sure everyone knows. Also has angst.

Eve, Alex's lil sister, is an edgy teen who's failing calc and runs a queer book club

together, they're a weird lil dysfunctional family

I'll be honest. There's a lot of love in this story. From me and among the characters. The characters love each other, and I think the readers love them, too.

It touches on a lot of loneliness--inspired by how I've felt since Covid started--and a lot of the conflicting emotions that come with being gay. What happy endings do we deserve? What about happy middles?

It's a touching book about learning to be a better person and finding people who love you--platonically and romantically.

Here are some of my fave parts:

And then there was a streak of gray hair that shocked Alex. A streak of gray hair off to the side, nestled close to a salt and pepper beard. Textured hands held cocktails. Little, subtle lines creased when mouths laughed. Alex held his breath. On the packed floor, they were the only people Alex could see. They were laughing and holding each other and enjoying themselves, firmly in the place they knew they belonged. Flashes of teeth pressed against each other, disappearing for long seconds at a time.

“Sorry,” Alex said. “Your arm got heavy on top of me.” “You’re a little mouse of a man. I didn’t mean to crush you.” “I’m what?”

“A dog!” Damián cooed as he sat across from the lesbians. “His name is Yam,” Martin said.

“His name is Yam,” Damián cried. Kris and Clara released Yam and gently nudged him to Damián. Ecstatic, Damián picked him up and set him on his lap. “His name is Yam,” he repeated to Alex. “I heard.”

But he couldn’t deny that he was having a good time. It was like intense yoga with the perk of having a cock shoved up his ass. He was going to feel limber as fuck after.

“Can I do anything?” Alex asked. “To help cheer you up?”

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’d like to. If you let me.”

“Wow this sounds great where can I read it?”

Tumblr @justsome-di

Watpadd @justsome-di

Patreon @just some di (link on Tumblr)

AO3 @justsome_di

Updates every friday!

#writeblr #writblr #nobody ends up dead

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tightjeansjavi · 9 months

Text

Slow Hands | Joel Miller x f! reader

Chapter 2 “an espresso a day keeps the doctor away”

A/N: I breezed through this chapter just like the last one 🥺 I hope you all enjoy reading. Please note there is mentions of anxiety attacks and PTSD in this chapter. If this sort of content triggers you, please tread carefully if you choose to read. 🤎

~word count: 4.2k~

Summary: Joel is overwhelmed with the realization that he knows you in some capacity and struggles handling his emotions that come with the realization.

Warnings: mentions of PTSD episodes (I am in not claiming to be an expert on this stuff but I did do some research to actively depict what this disorder is like for Joel) anxiety, anxiety coping mechanisms (ie counting, focusing on one thing and blocking out everything else) overwhelming emotions, mentions of alcohol consumption, fainting, feeling like breathing is not possible, zoning out, disassociation, denial, mentions of childloss, mentions of loss in general, internal thoughts, angst, mentions of prescription pills for anxiety, some fluff towards the end, no age gap, no use of y/n, reader has no physical description but goes by the nickname ‘Beanie’ (+18 minors dni!)

“…Joel?” You asked softly when he didn’t immediately respond to you stating that the coffee was so good because of a bit of sugar and love sprinkled into it.

Joel blinked and tightened his grip around the mug slightly. His fingers flexed, and his jaw tightened to an edgefold.

“Is everything alright? Did I..say something wrong?”

Your voice was sounding fuzzy and muffled to his good ear, almost as if you were standing far away; too far for him to detect the words flitting past your lips.

His eyes were focused on a spot along the wall next to your head. He tried to not allow his thoughts to presently consume him, but when these episodes sprung up, it was a challenge for him to handle. The room felt like it was closing in on him. Inch by inch till he felt like he was suffocating from the paranoia.

Fuck me. His internal thoughts plagued him.

Breathe, Joel. Fucking Breathe.

I can’t breathe. I’ve forgotten how to.

Fuck.

Fuck. Not this again.

His hand that wasn’t presently purchased around the mug was now resting along the rustic wood. His fingers thrummed nervously as he struggled to take steady inhales. Something that once was so easy, and required little to no thought, was now becoming a struggle once more.

His lips opened and then closed, and then opened again but no words flowed through them. He could taste the anxiety lingering on his tongue as his mouth went dry. The last time he had one of these episodes was when he and Ellie arrived in Jackson for the first time. His mind kept playing tricks on him when he saw a woman who would be about Sarah’s age (if she had lived) with a little girl. Now, he didn’t just face images of Sarah flashing in his brain. He saw Ellie now too.

“Joel? Can I–get you some water or something? You look as if you’ve just seen a ghost..” Your hand had reached out to gently touch his forearm and he immediately flinched back, as if he had touched something scalding and his body's natural defense was to flee from it. The milky whites of his eyes were on display, reminding you of a frightened, cornered animal or a deer fleeing from a pack of wolves.

“I’m–I'm sorry.” He sputtered out. Trying to gather his thoughts so that he would come across as being coherent. “You–I have to–I have to go.” He raked his fingers through his salt and peppered stained tendrils of hair. “I’m sorry, I just–I can’t be here right now darlin.’”

His voice was so low and timid, you could barely depict the words he was saying. You had opened your mouth to speak again, but his broad frame was already scurrying out the door. The sound of the hinges being smacked open nearly startled you as a frigid breeze whipped past, carrying in a spray of snow in its wake.

Joel Miller was gone within a blink of an eye and only after he had left did you realize that he had abandoned the owl mug on the counter.

Joel’s boot-clad feet were carrying him faster than his brain could keep up with.

One foot after the other easy peasy.

One. two. three. four. five. six. seven…

20 steps to the Tipsy Bison.

“TOMMY!” Joel’s deep baritone voice boomed through the empty establishment, sans his younger brother moseying around the bartop.

“What are ya fuckin’ yellin’ for? Christ, Joel! Nearly gone and gave me a heart attack!”

“DID YOU FUCKIN’ KNOW THAT WE SORTA KINDA KNOW EACH OTHER?!” Joel was one hot mess as he stopped just in front of the bartop. His fists were trembling at his sides and he did in fact look like he had seen a ghost.

“Brother, what in the hell are you goin’ on about? Why are you yellin’ at me?” Tommy responded with genuine confusion. He hadn’t a clue who, or what his brother was referring to. “Why don’t ya sit down, and i’ll pour ya a drink, okay?” He gestured to the open bottle of whiskey on the smooth countertop.

“Did you know that Beanie is from Austin? You said you knew her in some capacity, right? Did you fuckin’ know that she used to own the coffee shop on mainstreet? ‘Cuppa Smiles’ was the name of it. Did you know this entire fuckin’ time?” Joel yanked back the stool before sinking down on it as Tommy poured him a splash of whiskey to which Joel downed in one hefty gulp.

The younger Miller brother’s face fell at the realization. “Fuck, Joel. I’m so sorry. I swear..I had no idea. No fuckin’ clue. Now that you mention it, Beanie does look like that barista that always did the silly little latte art on your coffees. Hey, Joel? Maybe you shouldn’t–”

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do, alright? Jus’ pour me another.” Joel mumbled as he rested the rim of the glass along his temple. “Yeah, the coffee shop with the fuckin’ strawberry jelly filled donuts that Sarah loved so fuckin’ much.” He croaked out the last part. “She loved those donuts Tommy. She loved them!” He slammed the glass down on the bartop so hard, Tommy swore that it had shattered.

“Alright. Alright, Joel. Let’s just..lets take some deep breaths before we go and get ourselves all worked up over this, okay? If I knew Beanie was that barista, I would have told you right away brother. You know I would never ever hide somethin’ like that from you. I would never.” Tommy’s tone was ten times softer than Joel’s as he tried to talk him down.

“I forgot how to fuckin’ breathe Tommy.” Joel deadpanned as he stumbled off the stool and began to pace while gripping his hair from the roots so tightly, Tommy was afraid that strands were going to be yanked out. He started counting under his breath as he paced back and forth. Tommy knew that his brother had these episodes however, he didn’t realize until now just how bad they could get.

“That’s a piece of my fuckin’ past out there that I had no fuckin’ clue existed up until now! I fuckin’ froze in front of her like a goddamn vegetable. A fuckin’ vegetable Tommy!”

The walls were closing in again on all sides as Joel struggled to regain his composure. Counting wasn’t helping like it normally would and now it really was beginning to feel like his airway was being physically cut off.

Tommy was already jumping into action when he realized nothing he had said was talking his brother down. As soon as Joel felt Tommy gently grasping his forearms, everything went black as his body collapsed to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Joel had only fainted once or twice during an episode, and it was only when he was alone with his thoughts that had become too painful to handle.

Joel woke up in a scratchy hospital bed with one damn flickering fluorescent light buzzing above his head and he was visibly confused as to how he ended up there in the first place. One second he was yelling and pacing and the next? He couldn’t remember the exact moment everything had gone black.

His brain barely registered a familiar pair of arms hugging him tightly. It was Ellie clinging to him like a koala bear. “Tommy, He’s awake!” the teen exclaimed as she buried her face into Joel’s shoulder.

“Ellie? What’re you– hey, s’alright baby girl. I’m alright.” He softly rasped as he brought his hand gently against her hair, threading his fingers through the dark brunette strands to soothe her. “How the hell did I end up here, kiddo?” He turned his head slightly to the side so he could kiss her temple gently.

“You fainted in the Tipsy Bison. Tommy was there with you, and he said you were yelling and pacing and then you–you just dropped to the floor. He said it was so sudden he didn’t know what the fuck to do at first. Next thing I know I see him and a couple men carrying you down the street. Do you feel okay? Does your head hurt?”

Ellie couldn’t help but ask as many questions she could cram in at that moment. Her and Joel may have not been on the best speaking terms, but that didn’t mean she still didn’t care about him. She cared about her dad more than she was willing to admit.

“Oh, thank fuck.” Tommy announced as he stepped into the examination room. Deep creases of worry were etched between his brows as he took a seat in the chair at the front of the bed. “How you feelin’, brother? Doc is gonna be here in a sec. Can I getcha anythin?’”

Joel was still gently twirling strands of Ellie’s hair between his fingers. The motion soothed both her and him and he no longer was feeling like he was trapped in a figurative box. “M’alright. My head kinda hurts? Dunno. Do I got a bump or somethin? I’m sorry for freakin’ you out like that Tommy. Everythin’ sorta just felt like it was closin’ in on me, y’know?”

“Joel, you don’t have to apologize for that. I’m sorry there wasn’t more I could do to help you through that. You did hit the floor pretty fuckin’ hard, so I won’t be surprised if you do in fact have a nasty bump on your head.”

Ellie was already gently feeling around his head for any signs of a head injury and when her fingers brushed over a particularly tender spot along the back of his head, Joel visibly winced from the light pressure. “Ouch.” He mumbled softly.

“Yeah, you got yourself a decent sized bump. We’ll get some ice on it, okay Dad?”

“Okay baby girl.”

The tender moment between father and daughter came to an end when Jackson’s doctor strode into the room carrying a clipboard in one hand. “How’re you feeling after that fall, Joel? Feeling any pressure in your head?”

If there’s one thing Joel Miller despised; loathed even, it was doctors. Before the outbreak happened he dealt with his primary doctor talking to him about cholesterol and his bad back and minor addiction to caffeine. Joel always waved his doctor off and continued on with his life. Hospitals had the same effect. He was certain it was because of the annoying fluorescent lights, the chilled air, and the underlying smell of bleach. The only time he could confidently say that he ‘enjoyed’ being in hospital was when Sarah was born. He was there the entire birthing process and once his baby girl was placed into his arms his life changed forever.

Now? Well, things had changed, and all he really wanted to do was go home and sleep this entire thing off.

“You want the truth or some bullshit lie doc?”

“I take it you aren’t the biggest fan of doctors?”

“Not in the fuckin’ slightest.” He deadpannned

The doctor nodded as he set his clipboard aside. “Good. I won’t bullshit you either then, Joel. So, do you know what post traumatic stress disorder is?”

Joel couldn’t help but scoff at his question. “Do I fuckin’ look like I know what the hell that is, doc?”

“It’s more commonly known as PTSD. Post traumatic stress disorder is a psychiatric disorder in which a person has a difficult time recovering after he or she has experienced or witnessed a terrifying event. PTSD can sometimes last months or years. In some cases, there are certain triggers that can bring back those specific memories of the trauma. These memories can be accompanied by intense emotional and physical reactions to the trauma.”

“So..you think I have this disorder or somethin?’ Well, I don’t have that so no reason for you to go and blow smoke up your own ass doc.” Joel retorted.

The doctor let out a heavy sigh as he rubbed the pads of his fingers against his temple. “So, you’re telling me that you’ve never experienced any kind of trauma in your life? Nothing at all? No loved one dying? Outbreak day?”

Sarah dying

Tess dying

Bill and Frank dying

Henry and Sam dying

Ellie..

These were the people who immediately popped into Joel’s head and he averted making eye contact with the doctor all together as he found himself focusing on a frayed edge along the collar of Tommy’s jacket. Ellie had found his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as she stroked the outside of his hand with her thumb.

He swallowed hard as he gently squeezed her hand back. “Yeah, my daughter died n’my arms on the night of the outbreak. Some government solider shot at us. Tommy was there to witness it. Then my–my partner Tess got bit. She sacrificed herself so that Ellie and I would survive. Then..our good friends Bill and Frank died. Suicide. Henry and Sam dying in front of of us and Ellie, my daughter she–”

“It’s okay, Joel.” Ellie whispered softly to him.

“I’m very sorry for your loss, Joel. Your daughter dying, and all the other people you lost along the way is what’s triggering these episodes that you’re having. Where were you today when you started feeling overwhelmed?”

Joel exhaled a shaky breath as he squeezed Ellie’s hand tighter in his grip. “Beanies coffee shop..we know each other from Austin apparently.”

“Ahh, yes. The nutty coffee woman. When you realized that you knew her from the past, how did that make you feel?”

Joel felt like every pair of eyes in the room were focused on him and he hated it. He didn’t want to be answering these questions. He didn’t want to be stuck in this scratchy bed. He didn’t want to listen to the annoyance of the buzzing fluorescent light above his head. He just wanted to go home.

“Overwhelmed and shocked I guess? Then it just felt like the walls were closin’ in on me and all I could see was Sarah and Ellie’s face and–I ran.” He admitted quietly.

The chair the doctor was sitting in squeaked as he stood up. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but all the signs are pointing me to diagnose you with PTSD. Now, these are just my suggestions, and I honestly don’t expect you to agree with them. My first suggestion is that you cut back on the amount of coffee you’re drinking. Caffeine can make you jittery and cause you to feel all wired up. If you experience another episode like the one you just had, caffeine in your system will probably do more harm than good. I also suggest you distance yourself from Beanie’s coffee shop for the time being. Things and people from the past can trigger these episodes to happen. Maybe just take it easy for a few days before you do anything drastic.”

“You want me to give up coffee? Ain’t no fuckin’ way that’s gonna happen.” Joel immediately put his foot down.”

“Like I said, these are just my suggestions. I could probably get you some anxiety meds as well. There’s not a ton of options due to low resources, but I can try and work something out.”

Joel shook his head immediately in response. “No, that’s alright i’d rather not take anythin’ that could potentially fuck with my emotions more. I got addicted to takin’ pills when I was livin’ in the QZ. It was an ugly time in my life and I'd rather not revisit it.”

“Suit yourself.”

It was late in the evening when you had finally gathered enough courage to return the mug Joel had left. The snow was beginning to steadily fall as your boots crunched under the white fluff. Joel’s house was just on the other side of town. Word spread pretty damn fast about Joel fainting in the Tipsy Bison shortly after he was at your shop. You couldn’t help but feel like this was partially your fault. Deep down you knew that you had no control over Joel’s reactions and emotions. This however didn’t have you feeling any less empathetic for him than you already did.

“Alright, here’s the plan. You’re gonna walk up to the door, knock and then if Joel answers you’re gonna hand him the mug. If he doesn’t answer, just leave the mug outside on the porch or something.” You gave yourself an encouraging pep talk as you walked up the steps, kicking off the extra bits of snow from the crevices on your boots. You took a deep breath, exhaled and knocked softly on the door.

You could hear faint shuffling along the otherside of the door. You were just about to set the mug down off to the side when you heard the lock unlatch and the door creak open. Ellie popped her head out with a curious expression on her face when she saw you. “Oh, hey Beanie! What brings ya here?”

“Hey, El. I just um–Joel left this in my shop earlier. I heard what happened and I just..wanted to make sure this got back to him.” You gestured to the mug in your hands.

Ellie turned her head back inside the entryway before yelling, “JOEL! There’s a nice lady here waiting for you with a mug!”

Joel’s grumbled tone could be heard approaching from the kitchen. “Ellie, what did I say about openin’ the door to strangers–” He paused as he approached door and peeked his head out over the top of Ellie’s “Oh, hey Beanie. Uh–sorry about my kiddo. I hope she didn’t give ya a hard time or nothin.’”

Ellie gave him a light and playful shove, sticking her tongue out before she said goodnight to you and retreated back inside.

“Oh, no no. She didn’t give me any trouble at all. I just–wanted to stop by and make sure that this got back to you.” You held the mug out to him as he stepped outside onto the porch with his broad arms crossed against his chest to block out the chill.

“Shit, the mug. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to leave it there I swear. I hope I didn’t freak you out or anythin.’ I just was y’know, goin’ through somethin.’” He cleared his throat nervously.

“It’s okay. I heard that you fainted at the Tipsy Bison? Word travels fast around here unfortunately. How are you feeling?”

“Yeah, I heard everyone in the damn town knows about it now. I’m alright, jus ’ got a minor bump on my head and I've been diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder. Ain’t that a mouthful?”

“Sounds like you’ve had a shit show of a fucking day, Joel.”

He lightly laughed as he felt a small grin tug on his lips. “Yeah, you can say that again. Doc also said that you’re bad for my health..I don’t really give a fuck what he has to say ‘bout it.” His reply was so casual in deliverance that your silly little heart skipped a fucking beat.

“The doctor really said all that? I don’t want to end up triggering you or anything like that, Joel.”

“Yeah, the way he put it is that I am pretty much forbidden from seein’ ya and havin’ your delicious lattes. Forbidden might be a tad on the extreme side, but he just suggested that I uh–stay away from you for the time being, cus’ I got issues. We all do, but the doc pretty much said no more coffee. You know what I gotta say to all that? Fuck it. I don’t believe in any of that mumbo jumbo doctor bullshit anyway. Life’s too short for me to be givin’ up the simple pleasures in life just because they may or may not trigger me.”

“I do agree that it does seem a bit extreme. I just honestly feel terrible for earlier today and dropping that complete bomb on you like that. It wasn’t how I had planned for our first interaction to go. Well, first in over 20 years.”

“Darlin,’ there ain’t nothin’ you should be feelin’ terrible about, okay? You didn’t do nothin’ wrong. I haven’t had an episode like that in a while, and just about anythin’ could have triggered it. I just was not mentally prepared to run into someone from my past so suddenly. The funny thing is that for the past few months I've walked past your little shop, shaking my head and muttering because a coffee shop in a post-apocalyptic world? Seemed a bit silly to me at first. That latte you made me seriously brought me back to those mornings with my daughter. I ain’t just sayin’ that to blow smoke up your ass either. Your coffee was delicious before the outbreak, and it sure as hell is delicious now.”

His fingertips lightly brushed yours as he removed the mug from between your palms. His eyes fell upon your own as you locked in a soft gaze. “You really loved my lattes that much?” There was so much more you had wanted to say but Joel Miller had left you feeling positively flustered.

“Absolutely, silly latte art and all. Listen, I know it’s probably overwhelmin’ for you as well, but..would it be alright if maybe we uh–we talked more and possibly became friends? Tommy has been encouraging me to get myself out there more and try to live a normal life. He was the one who actually suggested that I go to your shop. I was against it at first, but I realized there was no harm in it, y’know? Anyway..i’m ramblin’ again.” He chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish smile.

“Of course we can talk more. I have honestly struggled to make friends here as well. You’d think it would be easy considering Jackson isn’t that big, but some days I still feel like an outcast. I spend most of my time making new mugs for the shop in hopes that more people will come in. I guess I'm just known as the ‘nutty coffee woman.’ I think it’s quite fitting.”

“Well, we can be outcasts together? I think Beanie is actually more fitting than the ‘nutty coffee woman.’ Maybe some folks around here are just jealous of your talents. Your mugs are truly a work of art.”

“I like the sound of that; outcasts together. Maybe I can show you how to make a mug one of these days? It’s pretty simple once you get the hang of it.”

“I’d love that.” Joel admitted truthfully.

A comfortable silence washed over the two of you as the snow began to fall harder in bigger flakes as the wind picked up. “Shit, I'd better start heading home before the snow worsens. I’ll see you tomorrow?” You were balancing your weight on either foot as you wrapped your arms around yourself to block out the chill.

“Do you want me to walk you home? I don’t mind at all. Yes, of course we’ll see each other tomorrow.” He could see you shivering from where he was standing under the porch light. If he had a jacket on he surely would have offered it to you now.

“I appreciate your offer but I'll be alright. You’ve had a long day and should get some rest. Enjoy the mug and I'll see you tomorrow.”

Joel nodded as he watched you turn on your heel and descend down the porch steps. “I’ll see ya tomorrow, Beanie. Have a good evening!”

You paused, glancing over your shoulder as you waved, “See you tomorrow, Joel!”

He waited until your silhouette disappeared into the falling snow before he headed back inside. He placed the mug on the center of the counter and headed up the stairs to his bedroom.

It was some time in the middle of the night where Joel found himself unable to sleep. He had a nightmare of the day where he thought that he had lost Ellie for good. It was the one thing that had caused their relationship to grow rocky and created the distance between them. He tossed and turned before giving into his consciousness. The floorboards groaned and creaked as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed the sleep from his tired eyes. The snow had continued to fall as he made his way down into the kitchen for a glass of water. The billowing snowflakes casted a shadow through the soft curtains as his eyes zoned in on the mug you had returned to him. With a light sigh he picked it up, rubbing his thumb across the detailed painted owl as his eyes closed. He pictured Sarah, and the strawberry jelly filled donuts inside of your shop. I can do this. I can be her friend. I can let her in. He internally thought to himself.

He gently set the mug down next to the coffee pot on the backside of the countertop so that he could have his morning coffee in it and immediately think of you, his newfound friend from a life he once knew.

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Chapter 3:

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floralcyanide · 9 months

Text

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - 𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐲

cillian murphy x gn!reader

After a sleepless night, you decide it's finally time to leave your husband, Cillian. Based on the song Every Light in the House is On by Trace Adkins.

warnings: angst, failed marriage, depression

word count: 1583

authors note: this is kinda mehh but I had no idea what kind of angst to write that wouldn't be soul-crushing lol and I didn't want to do that to ya'll just yet!! but if you like this please give feedback <3 (of course I did not proof read I just depend on Grammarly to guide me through the darkness lmao)

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“I told you I'd leave a light on in case you ever wanted to come back home. You smiled and said you appreciate the gesture.”

Deciding to leave has been one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do. But it’s come to the point that you have to go- you’re no longer being treated the way you deserve and loved in the way you desire. Cillian’s career has reached a peak moment, and he’s been swamped for the last few years. He’s been studying J. Robert Oppenheimer for his role as him and has become Oppenheimer in a way. He’s distant, cold, and critical of everything. Cillian being occupied with studying and filming has made him a different person, a person you didn’t know. A person you no longer wanted to be married to.

You decided to wait until after the movie premiered to see if he’d change, but he didn’t. And it took you packing your things for him to begin waking up, metaphorically and literally. It was very early in the morning as you couldn’t sleep, and you finally got up from bed, digging out your luggage from the closet. You had been patiently and neatly folding your belongings and putting them in one of your suitcases for about two hours when Cillian first said something.

“Where are you goin’?” he asks, his accent thick from sleep.

“Away,” you say plainly.

“Away where?” Cillian sits up in bed, rubbing his eyes.

“From you,” you say, holding back tears.

A look of confusion crosses Cillian’s face, “What do you mean, love?”

It’s been ages since he last called you that, and the softness of his voice paired with the name sends tears rolling down your cheeks, “I’m leaving you, Cillian.”

Cillian is now climbing out of bed, all but tearing the covers off his body. He hurries to stand beside you, grabbing hold of your wrists, “What? W-why?”

“You aren’t you anymore. You’re not lively or happy as much as you used to be. I thought maybe you were getting old on me, but now I realize you’re just growing bored.”

“I could never be bored of you, sweetheart,” Cillian looks at you, his eyes softening, his salt and pepper hair tousled in a mess.

“Really? When was the last time we had sex, then?”

Cillian pauses, and a look of defeat crosses his features, “A while.”

“It’s been years, Cillian. At first, it wasn’t a big deal, but as time passed, I realized how long it had been. The last time was when we were in quarantine two years back,” you say, letting your tears fall freely now, “Of course, sex isn’t as important to me as you being you. And you just haven’t been the same for the last few years.”

Cillian nods slowly, taking in your words, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, let me make it up to you. Please?”

“It’s too late,” you frown, finishing your folding and closing the first suitcase, “It’s been so long already. And whenever I tried talking to you about it, it was like talking to a brick wall.”

You pull the suitcase off the bed and place it with the other luggage on the floor. Cillian then realizes you’d been packing for a while during his sleep. He hardly remembers you trying to talk to him about your relationship- hell, he hardly remembers anything from the last three years, really. But he doesn’t doubt that you did. He doesn’t think you’d ever lie to him, even if he probably deserves harsh punishment. You leaving him, he’s decided, is punishment enough.

“Will you ever come back?” Cillian inhales sharply, trying not to get visibly upset as he follows you down the stairs.

“I don’t know.”

If Cillian knows anything about you, it’s that once you’ve made up your mind on something, there’s no going back. And he knows that even if he gets on his knees and begs you to stay or cries his eyes out as he holds you close to him, you are still leaving. There’s nothing he can do about it except give you time.

“It’s still dark out, so be careful,” Cillian says, watching as you bring down the remainder of your things from your shared bedroom, “I’ll leave a light on, you know, in case you change your mind.”

He knew that you wouldn’t change your mind, though. But it was worth a shot.

“I appreciate the gesture,” you say, looking Cillian in the eyes.

Cillian looks down at the floor, and you sigh, unlocking the front door as you move your luggage to the front porch. Your best friend was picking you up, and you’d stay with them for the time being. Being away from Cillian will be hard, as you’ve been together all your lives. But you needed to do this for you.

“Every light in the house is on just in case you ever do get tired of bein' gone.”

“If I should ever start forgettin', I'll turn the lights off one by one. So you can see that I agree, it's over.”

It’s only been a few days since you left, but it’s felt like an eternity for Cillian. The house is eerily silent without you playing his vinyl and singing along or you humming as you clean the house. The TV isn’t playing a documentary or a show you’re binging anymore, mail piles up at the front door where the slot is, and dishes sit in the sink. A layer of dust is already coating photographs and knick-knacks, some of which were yours. Cillian is a mess and a half without you. He kept his promise, though. He left the porch light on for you. Also, the lamp at the front door, the lamps in the living room, the kitchen nightlight, the hall light, and the lights in the bedroom were kept on, too. You could probably see the glow of the house from the road. The home you two used to share is like a bright sunny day, contrasting with the darkness outside because of all the lights being left on.

Every day, Cillian sits in his office, reading a book and checking the time every five minutes. He also checks the window to see if your best friend’s car is there or if you are approaching the front door. But the car is never there, and you aren’t either.

After a few weeks of no sign or word from you and a higher electric bill, lights in the house slowly begin to be turned off. Cillian is more of a shell himself now than he was when you were together. He realized that he had been exhausted and inside his head too much, and that’s why he didn’t give you the attention you rightfully deserved. Cillian decided he would work on it, and if it would bring you back, then he’d do anything. But slowly, he began to give up on you ever coming back. Even if he did work on himself. So, he turned off the hall light, after that, the kitchen nightlight, and then the lamps in the bedroom.

“Every light in the house is on just in case you ever do get tired of bein' gone.”

The night that the very last light is on- the porch light- Cillian is heading to bed and decides perhaps he should finally turn it off. It’s been months now with no word from you. No calls, no letters, nothing. It’s time. When he goes to the front door, he sees something, no, someone at the door through the side windows. At this time of night, there is only one person it can be, but he won’t believe it until he sees it. He unlocks the door and pulls it open, and there you stand. Cillian can’t believe his eyes.

“You left the light on?” you ask, a tearful smile on your face.

It’s been raining and still is, and you’re soaked from head to toe just from the short walk from your friend’s car to the front door. Your wet hair is sticking to your face, and Cillian thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do right now.

“Of course,” Cillian says, “Every light in the house was on at one point.”

“So I heard,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him and his sweet yet sometimes dramatic gestures.

“Are you here to stay?”

“Maybe,” you say, crossing your arms, “How has it been without me?”

“Horrible,” Cillian says immediately, “Quiet and dreadful. The grass isn’t quite as green without you here, and the birds don’t come to visit anymore.”

You laugh at the sad yet poetic way Cillian has made the house seem without you in it, “That’s too bad.”

“Yeah,” Cillian frowns, “I’ve missed you terribly.”

“I know. That’s why I’ve come to see you,” you say, turning around and waving off your friend so they could leave, “For a little while, at least.”

“Any time with you is time well-spent,” Cillian smiles.

This is the Cillian you’ve been missing, the witty and sweet man who’d do anything to see you smile. You come inside with your bag, and Cillian quickly runs upstairs to run you a warm bath, turning on every light as he goes. You notice there were no lights on in the house until you walked through the front door. Now, the whole place is alight again. You hope it’ll stay that way.

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@baizzhu @aporiasposts @queenshelby @orijanko @raineeace @nela-cutie @langdons-slut

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy angst #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy imagine #angst #floralcyanide writes

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hotcheetohatredwastaken · 4 months

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what do you think the chains favorite breakfast foods are (if they eat breakfast)

I WAS HALFWAY THROUGH ANSWERING THIS AND MY PHONE DIED AND DELETED EVERYTHING I HAD WRITTEN, DEATH AND SORROW AND DESPAIR.

Okay I'm good now.

ANYWAYS, I split you ask into two sections: first, their favorite food ever if they can get their hands on it, the second what they like to eat on the road. And then a final unhinged rant at the bottom about the one thing about teenage boys/young men and their food that I'll never understand: Bacon.

Legend--I have a feeling that he likes sweets. Specifically, waffles with whipped cream and berries. They're a little burnt, but Ravio made them for him, so he'll pretend he doesn't notice (and grows to like them better that way). On the road, he'll go for coffee/tea (he's not picky) if one of the others make it, or nothing at all.

Hyrule--does he have a favorite breakfast food? Food isn't very stable where he comes from--Legend and Wild would spoil him so much in regard of expanding his palate. But I imagine that something like a fried mixture of beef/sausage, vegetables, and a starch (perhaps an even poorer version of an already poor person food Shepherd's Pie, perhaps? it could be a breakfast food) would be a sort of filling, tasty, and easy to procure/make/preserve food that he'd like. On that note, I would say something simple, easy to get and preserve, and hardy would be his go to breakfast on the road--maybe meat jerky.

Wild--Also a sweets person. Fruit cake, cinnamon rolls, frosted cupcakes, basically all the little delicacies he could get at a dumb party 100 years ago, he ain't picky, it's for breakfast and it's fueling a day long sugar high. On the road he, unlike the other Links, can be pretty creative with his breakfasts, and he likes his spice as well. So, I think he'd like Meaty rice balls.

Four--direct this question to someone else please. He has four voices in his head fighting to answer right now, and none of them agree. I surely dont know if he doesn't.

Time--Pancakes and farm-fresh scrambled eggs and toast with jam. Malon makes it for him. What can I say. On the road he is a habitual coffee drinker, he wouldn't be functioning in the mornings without it. But he'll also take a poached egg if he has the time (heh).

Warrior--unlike Time who is a habitual coffee drinker, he is a coffee connoisseur. He likes the breakfasts they serve at the castle--a lot of meats and fruits, expensive, and on top of it all, well plated. Not to say that he can't eat simply--he was in a war, mind you--just that he prefers not to. On the road, he strikes me as the kind that would drink those tasteless quick oats (y'know you just add water, shake and go?) and also be very vocal about much time (heh) it's saving him (being none). I don't know what the Hyrule equivalent of those are.

Twilight--our favorite country boy. I think he likes a true southern breakfast. Ham and pan-fried potatoes and eggs over-easy, with a side of cheesy grits and sausage biscuits and gravy like Uli used to make for him (I HC this man has a black hole of a stomach, out of all the Links). On the road he'll inhale a boiled egg or two (salted and peppered if he's feeling fancy) that Wild made for him. I also head canon that Twilight likes tea with an intensity. And not only sweet tea, but like, ALL of the teas. He gets obsessive. I literally have in my detail/subplot tracking documents for BDOR the following entry underneath chapter 8--Tea: "Twilight’s cure to Wild’s voice is tea. His cure to life’s woes is tea."

Wind--whatever his grandma is making, probably with seafood involved. I've had a crab-spinach-egg casserole for breakfast before, it was good, so I'll give him that. On the road, I can see him packing a lot of bread and some meat (dried fish if he can get it).

Sky--This guy honestly has me stumped. Do those on Skyloft eat Loftwing eggs, or are they considered taboo? They have a lot of pumpkins around--do they incorporate them into their meals?@needfantasticstories you know a lot of Skyward Sword lore, bequeath me your wisdom. Anyways on the road he's a meat and bread person like Wind. Practical.

Now, for my rant about young men and their food quirks:

Bacon. Bacon, as I have witnessed, drives the most reasonable of men insane.

I just a few things to say about this. I have younger brothers, and I born witness to many male sleepover parties. I--as the resident nasty fe-male XD--have been (forced) to cook for them in the mornings. Set a pile of bacon in front of them (or really any meat, but I have found that bacon has the strongest affect) and they turn into WOLVES. They start to crowd around and stare as soon as they begin to smell it (which hey, give me space in the kitchen, please!), snatch it up before the grease even cools, and then retreat into their separate corners of the living room/kitchen and scarf it down, all while avoiding eye contact and projecting just how much they don't care about the bacon they're eating (perhaps so one of the others don't take notice and try to steal it). There's an odd little ritual/rules to the thing, too: for example, it's frowned upon to take more than three or four pieces at a time, there has to be enough for everyone, obviously; but if you finish a second and third serving before some poor sod stumbles in and gets himself a piece--why that is acceptable, even encouraged. But at all times, you could feel them watching each other, judging whether each person had taken acceptable amounts. 6 at once, I have determined, is veritably considered too much, as I have watched an entire group of mid-late teenage boys chase another through the house and outside for this crime of greed. Another thing was the presence of literally any other edible food. If there was anything else--eggs, fruit, even something like a few slices of unbuttered toast or coffee or juice sitting out, this reaction was largely tempered--even if none of the boys took the other foods, they would take a meager one or two pieces of bacon and be satisfied, perhaps reassured that other food was present and their hope of a filling breakfast was not in vain. Most, at that point they would restrain themselves from eating anything (other than their bacon tax) and wait so that everyone could eat together. But the mad scramble that occurs when there is bacon and only bacon in the kitchen (even if other things are cooking, nearly done, and visible to them) is otherworldly.

I never saw it with anything else, not eggs, not fruit, not even sausage or any other breakfast food. And it must be noted that I was exempt from their little ritual of judgement--perhaps as the only woman, or perhaps as the cook, I was allowed to take as much bacon as I liked from the pile, once the initial wave had attacked and retreated with their bounty (and the strips of bacon had cooled enough that mortal human hands such as my own could pick them up). And while they behaved like beasts, I was always very politely thanked for making breakfast once it was over and the frenzy had abated.

Anyways, your ask got me thinking about Malon making a pile of bacon for the boys, activating the beforehand undiscovered "PANIC! BACON!" mode in their brains, and just being utterly confused as they turn into animals. Just the boys descend, and then a few shouts of "Thanks, Malon!" drift in on the wind as they scatter like racoons with treasure, leaving an empty plate spinning behind them.

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ghostchems · 10 months

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have some sympathy and some taste - dracopia x female!reader

you become charmed by a spooky live performance at a bar you wandered into.

author's note: this is dedicated to @blacktie-whitenoise for their birthday and also for how much they have done for the red jacket copia community :) this has been in my brain since the red jacket debut. mdni! 18+! about 3.6k words.

You let out a deep sigh as you cross the street, the club you have just left thumping in the background. Your friends were still there but you had gotten sick of being packed in with so many other people to the point you could hardly navigate the dance floor. You just need some air or at least some kind of break from the mess of bodies and incredibly loud music.

A dimly lit sign catches your attention: The Pinnacle Lounge. There is no music thumping so loudly that you can hear it outside from the bar so you decide to pop in for a drink to yourself and then head back over to your friends.

You push open the door and beeline directly for the bar and you’re somehow able to secure a stool for yourself. You quickly have a seat and order a mixed drink before your eyes wander throughout the bar. Dim red lights glow and it’s almost as if a fog has rolled into the room. Everything seems a bit hazy but it’s still calm. Much calmer than the club across the street.

The stage is being set for some kind of performance and you can’t help but focus your attention on it while you sip at your mixed drink. It definitely beats just sitting on your phone. The people in masks bring out a mic stand, amplifiers and begin working on laying the cords just right. You make a plan for yourself: stick around and watch the performance and then meet up with your friends after. Or, if whatever the performance is sucks, skip it and head across the street.

Masked people start to take the stage but the main microphone is still alone in the front. The lights dim even further and you feel almost like you’re in a trance. A voice rumbles through the bar over the speakers.

“Please, welcome to the stage — Papa Emeritus the Fourth and the Nameless Ghouls!”

You are startled by the sound of the bar crowd cheering for the band. And then — he takes the stage. His presence is so commanding, despite the extremely sparkly red jacket. Your breath catches in your throat as you take in his features, his salt and pepper hair, the skull face paint, the mismatched eyes. It must be some kind of gimmick, you assume, but you are enthralled by the vibes of it all.

Papa starts to sing, his voice low and strong and you instantly recognize the song as a cover of Sympathy for the Devil. It fits… well, the entire aesthetic of the bar and the band. The crowd is loving it, completely enraptured by the group’s stage presence and honestly, so are you. It sure beats whatever your friends are up to now.

His voice grows more powerful and booming as the song progresses. You find yourself leaning forward over the back of the stool, one hand propping your head up and you keep your focus trained on him. The way he moves his hands along with the music and sways his hips are mesmerizing.

At the start of the last verse, while he is belting out “so if you meet me”, his eyes find you and they stay on you. His white eye is burning into your skull and you think, for a moment, that you can feel something poking around inside you, fishing around your deepest thoughts. Heat flares in your chest and face, your body suddenly flushing and arousal growing between your legs. It’s like he just pushed a button inside you and completely changed how you were feeling.

The performance ends and you are feeling suffocated by how overwhelmed and stimulated you suddenly are. The performance ends and you are off your stool and out the door. The cool air of the night hits your lungs and you finally feel like you can breathe. You wander to the alleyway beside the bar and lean against the wall, pulling your phone out of your pocket to mindlessly scroll through in order to ground yourself back in reality.

“Do you have a light?”

The voice startles you and you’re unsure of how long you’ve been distracted by your phone. Your look at him and your mouth goes dry - it’s Papa. His red jacket shimmers in the moonlight and he is holding a cigarette between his fingers with a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Oh, no. Sorry.” You squeak and quickly settle your eyes back on your phone. You think if you don’t look at him, you’ll be safe from whatever it is he’s done to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his cigarette light up but you don’t see a match or a lighter. A shiver runs down your spine as he settles against the wall next to you.

“I saw you in the crowd, cara.” His accent makes your cheeks burn but you still don’t look up at him.

“Yeah, you were really good.”

Papa slinks closer to you and you smell the smoke from his cigarette.

“No, cara, I saw you.”

Your head snaps in his direction and he is just beside you, his lips still quirked in a grin. He flicks the cigarette to the ground and stomps it out without even looking. You feel your chest start to grow hot and the acknowledgement of whatever happened between you two makes you feel dizzy.

“Oh, there’s no need to be frightened, cara. This is a good thing. Good for both of us.” He tries to soften his features a bit but his glowing white eye is doing him no favors. The longer you look at him the more you feel you can’t look away, like you’re trapped by his gaze.

“What… what happened?” Your voice is soft, only a little bit louder than a whisper.

“I chose you and you opened yourself up to me..” It looks like his white eye is steaming. You can’t look away from it and it’s almost as if you can feel him probing your mind. He’s suddenly so close to you now, his expectant eyes tracing your be face before he reaches and takes you by the chin.

“I could have anyone I want and I’ve chosen you, cara — you should feel honored.” His voice sounds so soft yet threatening. Words get caught in your throat as he tips your head up. You press your palms against the wall and you brace for the worst. His head dips down and you draw in a sharp gasp —

His cold, soft lips drift against your neck and your entire body shivers. You were expecting something a bit more violent but there’s something sinister about the way he is lightly kissing your neck. He exhales deeply into the crook of your neck and you feel his tongue against the sensitive skin. His hand snakes up the side of your neck and grabs at your hair.

Copia gives it a harsh tug and his teeth immediately sink into your neck. Your body lurches forward and you manage a small cry in pain. He has you pinned against the wall, his body completely trapping you against him as he drinks from you. You start to feel sluggish and your limbs feel heavy while your eyes flutter open and shut.

He moans as he removes his fangs from your neck, his breath ragged in your ear. “Come back inside with me, dolce.” His voice is so smooth and it takes so much willpower to stop yourself from agreeing on the spot.

“I-I… can’t. I know where this is going. I’ve read books.” You whisper, your voice rushed and quiet. He pulls his head away from your neck slowly and settles just in front of your face. His lips are smeared with your blood but despite this, his sharp features have softened.

“You’re allowed to say no.” Copia says quietly, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “But if you say yes… I promise you will make it home safely.” His breath is hot on your lips. “I just want to play with you a bit. It’ll feel so good for you, too.” He nips at the tip of your nose and then takes a step back.

You exhale slowly, feeling as if you have been holding your breath for the past few minutes. He reaches a hand out for you. It’s somehow gotten darker in the alleyway since you’ve been out there and you can barely make out his face apart from the white paint and his glowing white eye. You feel the pull toward him. It’s like some invisible force is making you move towards him, your hand outstretched but you hesitate before placing it in his.

“I may be a monster but I’m not a monster.” His lips twitch in what appears to be a genuine smile. Then, he whisks you away toward the back of the alley, away from the entrance to the bar. You are feeling foggy but the same knot of fear is still in your stomach as he pushes open a random door. You follow him inside and it looks like it’s part of the same bar, but perhaps a more private area.

It is still packed but there are more people dressed up as nuns and wearing masks with horns. There’s a few… acts going on that would immediately have you heading toward the exit but you feel strangely unphased by it. Copia leads you into a private room, complete with a curved couch, private bar and red lighting. He turns to look at you and he looks even more devilish now, his lips pulled into a tight smile with his fangs poking out.

“Have you ever fantasized about being with a creature before, dolce?” His hands slip around your waist and he backs you into the couch, the cushions hitting the back of your knees.

“I feel like you already know the answer to that.” You are desperately trying to hold your own, keeping yourself standing up straight and gazing back into his eyes.

“Ah, si. You’ve read books.” Copia says darkly and you feel a rush of warmth spread between your legs. His strong hands dip lower to grab and caress your ass through your tight jeans before moving with such speed — and suddenly you’re straddling his lap with him sitting on the couch beneath you.

He pushes and pulls you by the hips, grinding you against the growing tent in his pants. You gasp at the sudden friction and rest your arms on his shoulders. Copia’s hand snakes up to grab you by the hair and tips your head forward, his lips crashing against yours. You can taste the blood on his lips and his cold tongue pushes into your mouth.

You feel him growl into the kiss, his other hand still firmly on your hip. It’s a deep, messy, sensual kiss and you can’t get enough of it. Your fingers play at the hair on the nape or his neck before moving them up to rake through his hair. His hips buck into yours and he pulls you in even closer, pressing your chest flush against his.

Copia bites down hard on your bottom lip, your eyes snapping open as you whimper. His fingers knot in your hair and give it a sharp tug while he sucks on your bottom lip, blood flowing into his mouth. He is moaning into your mouth, completely lost in the taste of you. You grind into him more, your nails digging into his sequined jacket.

He pulls away from your lip, his head tilting back against the couch as his hand on your hip inches up the hem of your shirt. His mouth is agape, blood smeared on his lips and his white eye dimly glows. You help him with your shirt, pulling it up off of yourself. Copia leans forward, his hands immediately moving to unclasp your bra.

“A delicacy.” He breathes into your ear, his teeth nipping at your earlobe as your bra falls off of you. His gloved hands wander your body, running over every curve of yours and spending time massaging and caressing you. A moan slips from your lips as his hands find your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples while he massages them. Every touch is sensual but calculated, like he knows exactly how to get the reactions he wants out of you.

“Will you take these off, dolce?” His fingers pull at the waistband of your jeans, a soft smile playing on his bloodstained lips. You immediately slip off of him, standing between his legs as he opens them wider. The power he has over you is becoming quite clear but something about it makes you feel extremely aroused. You work off your jeans, pulling off your underwear in the process and pushing them down to your ankles, stepping out of them.

He slinks forward on the couch, his hands grabbing for you and pulling you into him. His lips are on your chest, nibbling and sucking as his hands cup your ass. You can feel how badly he wants you, how his ice cold touch has warmed up. His mouth moves down to your breast, his tongue licking at your nipple before taking it into his mouth. Copia groans against it, his eyes squeezing shut as he sucks on your nipple. His hand drifts down your hip, then settles between your legs and lightly drifts his fingers along your dripping folds.

Copia looks up at you with your breast in his mouth and you feel the soft pinch of his teeth. You give a small squeak, your hands falling to his disheveled hair. He growls against you and releases your nipple, trailing kisses up your chest to your collarbone. He presses his fingers more firmly against your folds and you tilt your head back with a moan.

“Oh, cara, if only you knew how much I crave this — this connection.” Copia whispers into your chest before leaning back. His hands fall to his pants, toying at the laces for a moment, then unlaces them. His cock springs from his pants, thick and leaking. “Look at what you’ve done to me.”

You’re at a loss for words, your body practically buzzing because of how aroused you are. His lips are curled into a smile, his head tilted to the side as he looks up at you. He gives himself a few lazy strokes and you can’t contain yourself anymore, straddling him again. He seems a bit shocked but quickly rests one hand on your hip and uses the other to line his cock up.

“Fuck.” You hiss as you sink down on him, your walls stretching around him. His hips roll against yours, his hands helping to guide you up and down his cock. His lips are on you again, this time grazing your neck as he pants and groans with each thrust.

A low growl rumbles from his throat, one of his hands pressing against your back to push you flush against him. You pick up the pace, rocking yourself up and down and using his shoulders to balance yourself. His growls and moans only grow louder, his grip on you tightening.

Copia sinks his fangs into your neck and you cry out, your arms wrapping around him for support. You can feel the burn of his teeth, his tongue lapping the blood spilling from your wound. Tears sting your eyes at the pain but it mixes so deliciously with having his cock massaging spots so deep inside you. He removes his fangs from your neck slowly but keeps his mouth on you, growling against your skin.

He grabs you by your hair and gives it a sharp tug as his other hand digs into your hip hard enough to leave bruises. You give a deep moan as he holds you in place and thrusts his hips into you roughly. He fucks you hard, pounding himself into you with loud, wet slaps of his skin against yours. Your legs are feeling weak, trembling more and more as you desperately cling to him.

Copia leans back into the couch but keeps you where you are, creating an even deeper angle to fuck you. You can’t stop yourself from moaning over and over and you’re not sure if your vision is blurring due to the blood loss or the intensity of his throbbing cock. You’re able to focus on his face for just a moment and you see that his eyes are focused on you, his lips are parted and smeared with your blood that drips down his chin. He looks positively devilish.

Just seeing him like this is almost enough to send you over the edge. He tugs at your hair again and slams into you hard at the same time and you scream out, your eyes squeezing shut as bliss overcomes you. Copia pulls you into him so your chests are pressed together and he wraps his arms around you. He chases his own release, frantically pumping into you as he snarls wildly until his hips stutter and his cock pulses with each release. His breath is ragged and heavy in your ear, but you’re hardly able to hear it over your heart thundering.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood, dolce.” He whispers before he presses a few soft kisses to your ear on cheek. “Let me help you get cleaned up, si?” You can only muster a few nods against his shoulder and he carefully lifts you from off of him and carefully settles you on the couch.

You practically sink into the cushion, your limbs still tingling and your head still hazy. You close your eyes for what feels like a second when suddenly, you feel something warm and damp against your neck.

“What the-“ Your eyes snap open and your head jolts forward before you realize what’s going on.

“Calmati, cara.” He purrs as he gently uses the damp cloth in his hand to wipe at the wounds on your neck. “Shhh, let me take care of you.” You’re still dizzy but you manage to watch him as he cleans the blood off of you.

“Is this typical vampire aftercare?” You ask, blurting out the first question that comes to mind.

“Mmm. No.” He chuckles darkly as he brings the cloth up to wipe at your bloody lower lip. “But I promised you that you would make it home safe, didn’t I?” There is a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Copia finishes with the cloth and sets it down, then drifts his gloved up your bare chest to your neck. “These will heal in a few days. Might want to cover them up in the meantime, dolce.” He lightly brushes his fingertips over the bite marks.

There is such care in his voice and it makes you feel strangely comforted by his touch. You find yourself leaning forward to him, his hand still on your neck as your lips meet his. Copia sighs into the kiss and gives your throat a soft squeeze. Your arms slide around his neck and you deepen the kiss, humming quietly into it. He keeps his hand firmly on your throat as his other one starts to wander down your body.

“You don’t usually sing here, do you?” You whisper against his lips.

“Only when I’m desperate… and things typically end up much more bloody and much less fun.” He chuckles darkly and presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Cara, you really have lost a decent amount of blood. Let’s get you home so you can rest, eh? I am trying to keep my promise to you.”

You grumble a little bit and start to get dressed. To your surprise, he helps you — he slips your pants up your legs and helps you with your tank top. He still has that edge that sent shivers down your spine in the alleyway but he is now considerably more polite and gentle. It’s kind of cute.

He takes you by the hand and leads you through another door leading out of the private room, which takes you to the front of the bar. The stage has been cleared and the crowd has thinned out. The two of you are out the door in a second and the cold air hits you, giving you goosebumps. Before you even say anything, he is already draping his sparkly red jacket over your shoulders.

“Thank you.” You smile faintly as your eyes drift to the car he is leading you to.

“Will you come see me again?” Copia asks ever so quietly as he opens the door to the car for you. You glance back at him and notice how hopeful he looks. You feel a tingle in your chest.

“I think I might.” You offer a coy smile. His eyes light up at your response and you think you might even see a blush rise to his cheeks. It’s funny to you that, in his own words, he could have anyone he wanted and yet he is asking you to come back.

“Get home safe, dolce.” He purrs and presses a tender kiss to your cheek. You slide into the backseat and he closes the door behind you.

You still feel like you are in a dreamlike state and pull the red sparkly jacket tightly around you as your eyes are glued to the passing buildings and lights out the car window.

#Copia #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus iv #Cardinal Copia #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfics #dracopia

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