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#get ready to be torn apart

hgduo · 1 year

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Some say that Quackity feels suspicious of everything because since he didn't have Luzu by his side (the first person who treated him well) that's why he's now paranoid. I think it could also be that obviously, all of that is suspicious but :(

Yeah I'm seeing that theory around too :( The one that's like Q y L still have some memories just not of each other and so all k!Q is left with is mostly unpleasant memories since before the betrayal Luzu really was the only one he felt like he could trust so from his pov he has no one on his side- like it's no wonder the first thing he thought of after the mind-wipe was seeing his cousins again since his family is the only people he really has- it must have been very distressing to see that image of Cochi and Beni in prison and not knowing why and not being able to contact them ( I hope they show up again- though a part of me fears for their safety if they do because they aren't just gonna put up with their cousin having his memories erased and being pals with the person they were fighting against.)

It is pretty neat in a way though seeing Luzu and Quackity sort of flip in disposition from how they were at the start of k5, back then Q being more open and bright (even if he was still putting on a facade even back then, he was at least genuinely enjoying his time there... and a large part of that was having Luzu by his side) compared to Luzu who was wary of the others and quickly latching onto his desire to protect Quackity- without that stress and obsession of worrying over Q Luzu now seems more calm and light in comparison while Quackity is the more uneasy quiet one- (Lowkey I kinda get the vibe that Luzu lost more memories then Q because his unhealthy fixation on Q was a major part of his character this season- leaving him with just things like his time with Titi, time as a psychologist, and the wedding fiasco, and some other things I'm forgetting rn lol- in turn Quackity has more memories they just aren't pleasant ones leaving him feeling more jaded)

However they both still seem very suspicious of everything though and quick to pick up on how things aren't adding up.

I wonder what we'll see next from them and what the future holds.

#Luzu #Quackity #Karmaland #🌑#☀️#( I feel torn because a part of me really really REALLY wants them to finally like... be happy and healthy y'know :[)#(but like... not this way- not with them being tossed around like this- with their memories all torn apart and being lied to by everyone)#(so there's also a part of me that desperately wants them to regain their memories... even if it ends up hurting ;u;)#(what will happen if the memories slowly come back while they once again become close...)#(hell that's assuming they even get close again... it's possible this is it for them and they drift apart......)#(after all they always did have trouble logging in on the same time heh........... but I'll be heartbroken if that happens)#(............. apollo dni pls I'm begging- I need to see more of these two and their story I'm not ready to say goodbye ;n;)#anon #ask

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tvrningout · 4 months

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OH I JUST OH!!! so i wanted to make my lil guy related to rin bc why not!! expand on the clan of elves she comes from!! buuuut maybe he's not from her clan but rather : ) her brother : ) and this is where it might get a lil confusing asdf bc her brother is dead, but reincarnation is a thing in dorverold, so!! rory/ciaran would be his reincarnation -- his face and body are different, but his soul is the same. and if i run with the idea that eyda makes a deal with rory/ciaran : ) then wouldn't that be a neat lil idea considering that sunna chose rin as her champion : ) might be some set up for some tragic stuff in there huh : )

#haha something bad could happen between two loving siblings who were already torn apart : ) wouldn't that suck : )#but also consider that rin would have no frikkin clue that that's her brother if she were to meet him #she might feel drawn to him feel easily endeared #but has no idea and maybe feels a repulsion at the same time bc of his connection to eyda #this would mainly apply to dorverold bc i haven't figured out a modern verse for rin but oh my gosh... i have to commit for real now #get ready to ramble | ooc #also the idea of two divine siblings possibly using two mortal siblings to fight each other is just so funny and dramatic tbh

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greyturned · 2 years

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honestly, after the events of TROS is a whole other shitshow for him - after the war ends, everything seems like it’s looking up, he’s finally free and can figure out his own path and who he is without interference, and he’s working towards rebuilding the Republic and prepared to deal with whatever fallout comes if the galaxy outside of the Resistance finds out that he was Kylo Ren, when it finally hits him just all that happened to him, that he had everything taken from him. his childhood, his chance, his mind, etc, and was a tool of the Sith. he never really got a chance to process all that after Snoke was killed because the fight wasn’t over and he’d been trying not to think about it. he’s angry all over again, and while he’s better about talking it out, he isn’t inclined to do so because he doesn’t want to worry others with his problems and isn’t sure they could relate / help him through it.

#* &. i'm being torn apart. / headcanon #palpatine was there from before /birth/ ready to twist him into a tool for his power crusade #like his grandfather before him #and ben never had a chance because no one figured it out and he didn't know better until he was much older #but snoke was in then and was able to steer him away from thoughts about getting help #twisting his mind further so he would lean more on him rather than his family #after tros he's mourning what he could've been and what he lost to palpatine

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creative-hanyou-girl · 2 years

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So I've finally actually been able to catch all the way up to the Yona of the Dawn manga (ch. 226) and I've really been enjoying it so far!!!! But.....

So help me to all that is holy, Yona, Hak, Yoon, and the dragons better not die. ESPECIALLY the dragons ('cause, you know, that dream Yona had....?)

If I'm being honest tho, I've kind of been expecting to have at least Zeno die in the end of the series, 'cause that's his ultimate wish. So while I hope I'm wrong and that he can somehow find a way to no longer be immortal without dying, I'm kind of expecting his death to be the endgame for him. If that does happen, I at least hope the other 3 dragons don't die.

This is why I don't like starting series' that aren't fully completed. Because then your stuck worrying about how it's all gonna end and if any of you favorite characters are gonna die.

I couldn't help myself tho. The anime was just too good not to read the manga.

#yona of the dawn #I'm kind of thinking that maybe I'll hold off on reading anymore of the manga. at least for a while if not until it ends #i just don't want to be disappointed if I wait for more chapters only for it to end in a way that makes me sad #i just want Yona. Hak. Yoon. and the dragons to live dang it!!!! and be happy!!!!!!!#i love this found family #i don't want it being torn apart #honestly wouldn't care much at all if Soo Won died tho.#i don't exactly hate him. but I don't like him either #he could literally drob dead in the bext chapter and I won't feel anything.#anyway. back to my inuyasha bullshit #i need to start getting ready for inukag week #yona of the dawn manga

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phantomrose96 · 6 months

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Thinking about Edward Elric as the Amestrian Military's specialest little unfireable boy

State alchemists can be fired for underperforming. We know this up front from the likes of Shou Tucker. And this makes a ton of sense from the homunculi's standpoint since the state alchemists are sacrifice candidates, and the homunculi would want to cull the weakest candidates and focus only on cultivating the strongest ones who stand the best chance of opening the portal.

........Then there's Edward. Who's already opened the portal.

There's no need to cultivate him. No gamble taken on whether he's good enough to open the portal. He passed the final test already. Graduated 4 semesters early.

And as such, has a free pass to do Absolute Fuck All.

And I'm imagining how funny this is from like an outside perspective.

Some newish state alchemist who'd only ever read up on the stories of Edward Elric, ready and excited to start their career of being paid handsomely with endless freedom to research and travel and do anything they want in the pursuit of science... surprised and confused to find themselves put on probation their first month for things like "ignoring orders." Which is, as best they had thought, a famous Edward Elric pastime.

Roy showing a slight bit of stress about his yearly state alchemist report, and Ed just snorting and rolling his eyes at Roy because every year HE just hastily does his on the train ride over (canon in the manga, a travesty it was left out of the anime) and it gets rubber stamped. Ed not realizing that other alchemists' reports get genuinely scrutinized and torn apart while Ed is free to turn in whatever absolute bullshit he thinks of 36 hours ahead of time. One year his report was about whether alchemy could be done via dance (conclusion: no it can't) and no one cared. Roy WANTS to tell Ed there's some kind of unknown favoritism around Ed making him literally bullet-proof but Roy has no way to phrase this that doesn't sound like he's just in denial and mad at how good Ed's train-reports are.

Guy from the Internal Amestrian Affairs sector who's responsible for auditing other internal military personel for any suspicious activity hitting about 1 million red flags for Edward Elric, issuing a STRONG and URGENT recommendation to suspend the alchemist pending further investigation into things like "literal bunk-buddies with two members of the Xingese royalty (enemy nation)" and "spent $10,000,000 of his stipend on a librarian to make her re-copy (what he seemed to interpret as?) military records in some extremely transparent effort to unearth state secrets (it was a recipe book but he was literally asking her about state secrets)" and "literally has never once obeyed an order, ever, not even once in his career, and is on public record having said 'I do not care about the goals and protections of the Amestrian Military. I am in fact only pursuing my own interests several of which are diametrically opposed to the safety and well-being of the governing body of Amestris'"

The issued recommendation is intercepted before it even reaches its intended desk. President Bradley himself has taken issue with it and denies it before a single set of eyes has seen it. The President's veto stamp is a terrifying hammer, used rarely, and it is now sitting on the auditor's desk.

The auditor sleeps with one eye open from then on out.

#fma #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood #fma:b #literally anything about the dynamic between edward and the amestrian government is so so so funny to me #im begging you to come pick up your alchemist he keeps committing treason #Roy: absolute perfect ass-kisser and career-man playing the part 24/7 to disguise his treasonous ambitions and still #not flying under the radar #Edward on his public Twitter: bored. might tear down the Amestrian government for fun.

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chuluoyi · 4 months

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i love your comedy and fluff! but my masochistic heart is itching for more angst to fluff for gojo🥲 and i have this brainrot ever since i read "baby", "protect" and "wife": childbirth gone wrong, that's why he is sooo concerned about your wellbeing during your maternity leave~

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 09:45 P.M 」

tw: childbirth. there are two very same ask for this now and so that's the cue for me to practice my crack/angst more :3 okay this is basically an extended version of protect's epilogue and oh, it's a happy ending! mini sequel -> 11.10 p.m

a part of gojo's love entries

“you’re always doing whatever you want! ow!”

“deep breaths, sweets. deep brea—”

“easy for you to say! you don't contribute anything other than shoving that damn stick into me! and now i’m left with the consequences!”

“i kindly remind you that you very much enjoyed my stick that night—”

“i hate you!”

satoru looked at your tear-streaked face and patted you in the head—his notable love language, erupting into laughter. “of course you do.”

lying on the hospital bed, tears welled up in your eyes as you roasted your husband and your contractions kept getting closer together. three hours after you woke up to your labor pains, all you could feel was that you were ready to burst.

gripping his hand tight, you purposefully dig your nails in just to spite him. “i’m serious. i hate you. you’re not putting me up for this again!”

“you say that now, but the moment we are home, those words are going to be null and void,” satoru snorted in an attempt to lighten the mood, ignoring the slight pain you inflicted on him, because what was this compared to what you were going through?

but his facade dropped as soon as breath was knocked out of you and you whimpered. he instantly gathered you in his arms.

“hey, hey... take deep breaths...” when you did, he planted a tender kiss on your damp forehead. “that's it, there you go... the baby's going to be here real soon, okay?”

you panted, limp in his hold as dull pain overwhelmed you. “yeah... your baby.”

“our baby, love. not just mine,” he corrected, smiling. he had one hand on your swollen belly, palming the subtle firmness, and gently rubbing it. “our munchkin.”

“i’m just the container though.”

“heh, no,” he chuckled softly. “you're everything.” his eyes crinkled affectionately, a hint of laughter still in his voice, and your heart actually melted when he whispered: “my everything.”

truthfully, despite your bravado, you were scared shitless. yet, as you nestled your head against your husband's strong chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his reassuring heartbeat, and when you gazed into his eyes, you were sure, because he exuded confidence as if he had no doubts that this was going to go perfectly fine.

and so holding onto him you did. he held your hand through it all, talked you through your pain, and you were so, so grateful to have him by your side.

the next hour was a blur, as excruciating pain blinded your senses. you were wailing when everyone told you to push, and you gave it your all. you kept it up even as you felt like being torn apart.

and before you knew it, cries unlike any other, ones you had only imagined until that moment, echoed through the room.

“he's here!” satoru's hitched voice reached your ears, and you went slack, falling back to the sheets.

you were completely spent and all you could register was that the cherished baby both you and satoru had been waiting for was here. you shivered, your mind tuning in and out—lightheaded, wondering why you felt so drenched down there.

“holy shit! i can't believe it! i can’t—” if you were awake enough, you would realize that it was one of the rarest times when satoru was choked with emotions. he turned to you. “i—”

and suddenly you felt strange. an eerie chill seemed to engulf your entire being. your hand slipped from satoru's grasp as your vision dimmed, the world growing darker.

“are you okay? hey—” his voice sounded distant, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. satoru finally realized that something was wrong, as his six eyes discerned the rapid dwindling of your cursed energy, and the room reeked of the tangy scent of blood.

you barely made out the nurse's shouting next. “blood pressure is dropping!”

"come on!" now he was utterly panicked and tried to get a hold of you, shaking you slightly. “hey, stay awake—look at me, i’m right here, please—”

but to his horror, your head lolled back as you lost your consciousness. soon, he was thrown out of the delivery room. just like that, in one sick twist, his world was crumbling down hard and fast.

a sense of helplessness washed over him as he stood outside the room, barred from being by your side. inside, you were bleeding out, and he was unable to do anything but wait.

didn't he say he would protect you with everything he had? once again, gojo satoru was humbled—not everything was in his grasp. he couldn't save those chosen by fate not to be saved.

suddenly, it felt like suguru all over again, except the stakes were higher. he shuddered—his fist clenched so hard that it drew blood, while his other hand clutched his chest, desperately willing the searing pain away.

would he really lose you this way? the sheer thought made his ears ring. no fucking way. even hell knows he'd go berserk. would fate really let him decimate anything in his path? surely, no... right?

he was unaware that he had been murmuring these silent prayers when the doors slid open, revealing the doctor who had been assisting with your delivery earlier with the news. it was a case of a postpartum hemorrhage, she said, an unfortunate incident.

all things considered, you were going to be okay. that knowledge alone was enough to make him breathe freely once more.

when he was allowed to see you, the moment your eyes blinked open, the first thing he did was burying his head in the crook of your neck.

and there you have it—the first time you had ever seen him really shaken to the point of shedding tears.

“you scared me,” he rasped, voice thick with emotion. “i—i can't stop thinking— if you really left me—”

“i’m fine now...” you were somewhat wonderstruck by the knowledge that you had this potent hold over him. oblivious to how your soft voice calmed the depths of his soul, you stroked his hair, and he breathed in your scent, grateful to every force imaginable for returning you back to him.

“sleep,” he gently pulled away, his eyes rimmed with red, his fingers caressing your cheek. “you need it. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”

“the baby—”

“they just cleaned him up. he's resting too,” satoru reassured with an impossibly tender smile, and his next words made your heart lurch.

“my strong girl, you did it. you're a mother now… thank you. thank you... for making me the father to our child.”

you felt like you might burst into tears. you felt so loved, so secure, even after you went through the most challenging ordeal in your life. and as you drifted to your rest, you could hear the love of your life whisper in your ear ever so lovingly—

“i know i have said it before, but i’ll say it again. with everything it is that i have, i swear to you, nothing will befall you and our baby, for i will spare nothing and give everything for both of you... even my own life.”

#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #okay i'm just in the mood of very soft gojo #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff #gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #jjk angst

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satormi · 2 months

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·.⌇CRACK, BABY !

synopsis. toji is obsessed with his pretty little housewife. he just loves you so much, he wants you to have all his babies !

wc. 2k

warnings. MINORS DNI. fem!reader, breeding kink, degradation, praise, impact play, choking, unprotected s*x, dumbfication, dirty talk, overstim

“i’m home.”

toji, your caring and hard working husband says at the door, expecting you to be in the living room. usually, by now you’d run up to him and start peppering kisses all over his face. after a few seconds, his nose takes in the delicious aroma that was coming from the kitchen.

“hi baby.” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

you turned towards him, jumping as your husband’s broad shoulders that lurch over you, kissing your neck and looking at what you were preparing on the stove. when you take a good look at him, his pupils were dilated, and… hunger in his eyes. you ran your hands up around his face with a gentle yet cautious smile. “you scared me…”

with a smile, toji picked you up by your ass cheeks. your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, clinging on as he placed you on the counter. he then buried his face in your hair, before moving to the crook of your neck. fuck, you smell so good. “you’re wet.”

although you’ve been married to toji for a year now, he still manages to shock you with his foul language, “you pervert—!“

and he shuts you up with a kiss. one that’s needy and so sloppy, completely wiping your mind of any thought. the softness of his lips always made you feel fuzzy, and the way his large hands placed themselves on your waist had you shivering. he gives your ear a lick before whispering,“‘m gonna fuck you right here. right now.”

he stripped free from his work attire, unbuttoning the shirt quickly. he was hard already, and you’re starting to wonder if he was that hard at work as well. regardless, he presses himself against you again.

“is wifey ready to take all my load tonight?” he grinned against the shell of your ear, giving an affectionate peck to the side of your head. “i was thinkin’ ‘bout the conversation we last night ‘n got so fucking hard. my balls hurt... hope my lady can take it all.”

his dirty words make you even dizzier, and you find yourself unconsciously leaning your head against his face as your eyes close and imagine the sight of your husband’s cock. hard, probably an angry shade of pink, topped with a pretty milk color. he must be leaking, you think. his balls always get so heavy when you mention wanting to get pregnant. the thought of filling you with his cum and knocking you up drove him insane.

“take your clothes off, baby.”

at that, you suddenly snap back to reality. “w-wait toji, but dinner—”

“ah, baby. ever heard about reading the fuckin’ room? ” he snarled, palming your clothed cunt. “dinner can wait. i want my wife right now.”

in one swift movement, your apron and the rest of your clothing was torn apart, leaving you fully exposed to the man who is practically eating you alive with his eyes. he took a step back with a smirk, admiring your naked frame before palming the hard-on in his pants.

“y-you’re staring, y’know…” it was supposed to come off stronger on your end, but making eye contact with him when he’s like this is… intimidating.

“weak attempt to bite back,” he scoffs playfully and you look away with a pout. so cute. he ripped the belt from his pants, tugging them down with quickness. he then proceeded to begin walking towards you quickly, making no room for personal space. he continues this until you begin shuffling backwards, landing on the bed.

“you’re driving me fuckin’ crazy,” with a grumble, toji nudged your knees apart gruffly. he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and placed them on his cock for you to stroke. “fuck… tonight’s the night, baby. ‘m gonna give you a child.”

“y-yes pleas— toji!”

he pushes you by the chest to lay your back down on the bed and smirks at how offended you look, but kisses you to make up for it. you could feel his swollen tip sliding against your entrance, your wetness making it easy for toji to glide his length against you. your eyes fluttered while you let out a gasp, arching your back against the mattress.

“such a well-trained cunt i have...” he hummed, before licking a trail from your collarbone to your mouth. “already nice n wet ‘f me. my wife’s a slut at heart, hm?” he rasped, releasing your wrist to palm at your tit and give it a good suck.

his words cause you to whimper, and he decides to gently bite at your nipple so you could let out more noises. cute, he thought. he loved how it only took a few touches and kisses to get you all dumb in the head.

when he finally pushed his length in, you arched your back, your pussy instantly gripping onto his throbbing cock nestled between your folds. “fuck..”

he released another ragged moan against your ear, pushing your legs widely before diving in for a kiss. “my little breeding bitch.” he panted quietly, “how’s hubby’s cock?”

dumbly, you shook your head — did you even hear what he said? chants of don't stop’s escape your lips as a cruel smirk stretched his. he let out a breathy laugh, mouth forming the shape of an ‘o’ when he pulled out and pushed back in.

he swallowed, tapping the side of your cheek. “not what i asked” he scoffed, he bottomed out with a groan and your eyes flutter closed. this is what pleasure feels like. you’ll never get used to how big his dick is. how much it stretches you. “mmmmh fuck, baby. y’ goin’ stupid on me already? look at your face.”

you squirmed beneath him, rocking your hips and meeting harsh thrust. waves of pleasure consumed as you with each push. this was a mind-numbingly good fuck. his roughness, his hand gripping your throat, his mouth all over you — this is how a wife should be fucked.

“‘m thinkin’ a boy first, then a baby girl after.” his pace quickens at the thought of your stomach getting round with his kid. you mewled, whining as he pressed the backs of your thighs towards your ears. “this position will give us a baby boy.”

toji’s eyes fell to the sight of his glistening cock sinking into your swollen pussy, juices already leaking a mess all over the sheets. he brings a finger down to rub at your clit and your pussy hugs him even tighter. he gritshis teeth watching his cock disappear into your cunt.

“f-fuck. y’don’t know how to speak, baby?” he looks at you, balls slapping. “a boy, and then a girl. what do you think?”

you whimpered, lost in a haze of pleasure. “y-yes… as long as the b-baby’s healthy…”

he places the strands of hair on your forehead away from you face and kisses you. “that’s right, baby. as long as they’re healthy.”

you were losing your fucking mind. if he asks you another question, you weren’t sure you’d be able to answer him as coherently as he’d like. he was filth. his voice. his hands. his words. his cock.

“pussy so fuckin’ t-tight.” he rasped, “i’m going to pound you so full of my... uhhh— c-cum… that you’ll be dripping from that pretty mouth.”

you husband let out another moan before kissing your neck and jaw. when you finally had it in you to open your eyes, you could see the crazed look his expression had. he was unhinged, the grip around your thighs created lightened marks beneath the dent of his fingertips.

“mmmmhh…! h-hhf! d-don’t stop...toji—!!”

“i don’t plan on stopping,” he huffed a laugh, suddenly pulling your wrists and flipping you on all fours. “not until you’re round with my babies…”

his slippery cock popped from your hole with a squelch and your body fell on the mattress. in a flash, toji yanked your hips towards his pelvis, sinking himself back inside. the two of you moaned in unison and he gripped your throat and pulled you against his chest.

“…’m gonna cum sooner than usual, babe…” he moaned into your ear, before placing a harsh slap against your ass. “‘s all your pussy’s fault..”

you could feel the veins in his cock swell. pulsing, ready to burst. his body gearing to give you what you craved. a beautiful baby. it would have your eyes, and his black hair, he thought. toji’s thrusts were becoming sloppy, erratic breaths as he lost himself in your pussy.

whines of his name leaked from your throat. you felt like a bitch in heat. your cheek were pressed to the mattress by toji and he hoisted your ass in the air. he juddered, the slap of his tight balls against your clit ripping a squeal out of you.

toji chuckled, a choked one, as he gently slapped at your cheek. “that’s it, baby. that’s it. f-fuck, how badly do you want my cum?”

you were close. so fucking close. you were going to cum all over toji’s cock like the good wife you were.

“‘mm~ i wan’it so badly..fill me t-toji… yes p-please!” you cried. your hips bounced back desperately as you tried to keep his cock steady against your wetness.

“mmm, i don’t know, baby..” he taunted, planting his thumb at the center of your clit, massaging tight circles. “what did you want again?”

“mmh hm~ y-you’re cum… please..” you managed through a strangled cry. “i-ngh… want all your cum...”

he let out a toothy grin and nibbled at your neck, “cum.”

and then you felt it — his cum spilling inside clenching walls, hot seed sloshing inside the deepest part of you. toji’s chest curled against your back, hair sticking to the sweat gathered on it. he thrusted into you a few more times before emptying himself in your heat.

“hold on.” he murmured, carefully pulling out of you. he laid down on his stomach as he watched his load slowly fall out of your hole.

“s-stop staring…” you whisper, dazed. “it’s… embarrassing.”

though he doesn’t listen. instead he takes a finger, dragging his cum that drips down your leg back inside your cunt, sealing the deal with a kiss on your clit.

“it’s a boy,” he glides his face down your leg and stops at your ankle, giving it a kiss. “i can feel it.”

at that, you simply roll your eyes, bracing yourself up with your elbows to stare at him. he lurches towards you and gives your forehead a kiss and rubs the sides of your waist. “i say it’s a girl.”

“i hope it’s both. at the same time.”

and you stare at him like a madman and playfully hit his chest. he’s lost it. “it’s definitely not twins,” you smile at him, “but whatever they turn out to be, we’ll love them regardless.”

toji smiles. as he stares at you he realizes he’s absolutely fucking whipped for you. “yeah.”

you both stare at each other lovingly, smiling at the newfound hope that filled the both of you — until you caught a whiff of the scent surrounding the room, one that wasn’t just sex.

“shit—toji, the dinner!” you quickly get up and run to the kitchen to see the area had been surrounded in smoke, the fire detectors, just now deciding to ring. you turn back to your husband who is chasing after you and you glare at him, coughing. “this is your fault, now there’s no dinner!”

he looks at you sheepishly, “…takeout?”

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chrollohearttags · 4 months

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“silly boy, come find me when you’re older!” • a. artlert

synopsis: two lovers realize their relationship isn’t meant to be but that doesn’t mean they have to part ways forever..

content + themes: fem!reader (black coded), age gap (2-3 years, armin is 19, reader is 21-22) college au-ish (armin is going to nursing school + reader is a business grad), star-crossed lovers trope, angst + comfort, missionary, riding, hand holding, heavy kissing, crying (not dacryphila), accidental creampie, pet names (baby, mama, baby boy, angel), drug mentions, he gets possessive for like .2 seconds.

word count: 3.1K

📝: I have been so in love with fluff and the idea of soft smut lately (maybe it’s the holidays, maybe it’s my hormones..who knows!) but this is a part of a new au I’m starting! A new story that’ll be coming out soon and I can’t wait. For now, enjoy one of several side fics to accompany it! Also, please tell me y’all know this title reference 😭

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰───────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰────

“I really wish you wouldn’t look at me like that…”

the phrase seemed to have alluded him yet again..slipping through one ear and out the next. Almost as if only his body was present and his mind and spirit were elsewhere. It was to be expected though..

“..armie..? Aren’t you going to say something, baby? Anything?..”

you had just confided in him quite possibly the worst thing ever. In truth, his heart was breaking and there wasn’t a single thing that either of you could do to mend it. Although, you felt solely responsible..that the reason for his pain was entirely your fault. But it was a necessary confession nonetheless. One that you truly believed would benefit you both. Distance. Distance between the two of you so that he could properly pursue his education. A long sought after dream of becoming a nurse. Following directly in his mother’s footsteps and making her proud..it was all Armin ever wanted. As it stood, that was a mere concept and it was thanks to the girl lying next to him. His sweet, beloved (y/n). The (y/n) he reunited with at a house party one night and had been wildly entangled with ever since. Hooking up, drinking and smoking…what most peers your age was doing but you also had bigger aspirations for both Armin and yourself. He wanted to become a registered nurse, working with children and you were already two years deep into your collegiate journey as a business major. Laser focused and ambitious..ready to conquer your goals. You couldn’t waste your lives away in the back of his car, hotboxing and having sex. As fun as this little whirlwind romance was, you had to cut things off. At least for the foreseeable future..for both of your sakes. It wasn’t an easy decision in the slightest and you were far more torn up by the situation than what you were letting on but it had to be done. Regardless of your emotions..

“..I just don’t understand..I mean, is there someone else? Why don’t you want me anymore?…”

there it was..underneath all of those newly etched tattoos, shaggy blonde locks and suave charm lied that sweet, gentle boy. The same nerdy kid you’d first encountered whilst attending the same high school. Although two years apart, you found him to be adorable and couldn’t help but to grace the awkward brainiac with a smile every morning on his visits to the library. A beautiful goddess like you even acknowledging him? He was grateful for that alone! But it wasn’t until his senior year did the two of you reconnect. By that time, he had shed his thick, wire framed glasses for icy blue contacts to match his own..grew out his blonde bowl cut to a curly shag and had even acquired a couple of art pieces on his arm. Not to mention, gained some muscle from playing basketball. Some say you were the catalyst for his sudden change. Although this appearance was new, deep down, he was still that wide eyed genius with unbelievable intelligence. And best believe, your kindness wasn’t lost on him. So it came as no surprise, when you happened to cross paths with him at a graduation party that your younger sister, who happened to be in the same class with him, was attending..he found the courage to finally talk to you face to face. All of his newfound confidence flew out of the window when he saw you..that ethereal skin, deity like features and of course, that smile. That smile that made his heart flutter. “You haven’t changed a bit, baby boy…”

certainly his looks had, but you saw through all of that. You saw Armin for who he truly was and for that, he couldn’t allow you to slip away without confessing his true feelings. So that night, with liquor in his veins, he charmed you with sweet words and told you that he’d always had the biggest crush on you. It didn’t take long for you guys to get involved..days after that party, you began seeing one another. Both romantically and intimately. However, your relationship wasn’t exactly conventional or ideal..you were good for each other, perhaps a little too well. Because every moment that presented itself, you’d find yourself in every bed, couch, bathroom or backseat..going at it like rabid animals. The sex was insane and you couldn’t get enough of each other. It was only coupled by the sensation of the drugs coursing your veins..stimulants that sent your mind to places you didn’t need to be. Although there was never a single fight between you two, you knew the relationship wasn’t a healthy one. You encouraged each other’s worst habits. He had gotten a full ride scholarship to his dream school and you had obtained several as well for your ideal program. But you both stood to lose those if you didn’t make some changes. Ditching class to go smoke and then fucking him in every square inch of your off campus apartment. Sending him nudes and salacious messages during class, along with always being underneath each other. He’d never be able to focus and stay on track at this rate! Hence why you had to be the mature one and break things off. Even if it brought you to tears as well. So with a shaky palm, as you lay in bed next to one another, you’d bring a hand to his face and quell his doubts.

“You couldn’t possibly think that..you're the only one I want, Armin. I swear on everything..but..we can’t keep doing this. I love you so much but we’re no good for each other. At least not right now..”

but he’d attest, almost immediately. Insisting that he could buckle down and focus on his goals at hand. However, your mind was made up. That blind obsession and adoration for you would never allow him his room for growth. It wasn’t fair. Here you were only another year shy of receiving your degree and he was barely even started. You had to give him a fair shot, even if it meant removing yourself from the equation. You had even found an internship. He’d try to talk you out of it, convince you that he could juggle both college and you but regardless of how smart he was, nursing school was an entirely different beast in and of itself. It would require his full attention and dedication if he wanted to be an exceptional caregiver. No drugs, no distractions…no you. His studies deserved all of his time.

“So why can’t we make it work then? Isn’t that what couples do or was I nothing more than a joke?”

“Armin…”

in that moment, he’d tug away and roll over onto his side, giving you the proverbial cold shoulder and it stung like hell. The last thing you wanted to do was fight the man you loved. If anything, you wished things could stay like this forever. But you both had growing up to do and until that happened, it was best you parted ways.

“..I have an idea..”

But it wasn’t something that had to be permanent..for now though, there was no need to be upset with one another when you could spend your remaining time enjoying yourselves. Gently pulling him back towards you, you’d maneuver your legs until you were able to crawl on top of him. Those long acrylics scaled his freshly tattooed chest as you gently straddled his waist..at that moment, his little cheeks flushed red and you’d feel his breathing becoming slightly heavier. You’d lean down and begin peppering light kisses to his temple and all around his face..all while slowly rolling your hips against his crotch. With you, he was vulnerable..at his softest and would undoubtedly listen to whatever you said. “I’m all ears..”

that’s when you’d devise a plan that you believed that both of you could agree upon. An agreement of sorts.. “..two years..in two years, we can see each other again, just like this. We’ll work hard and reach our goals. You’ll be in your senior year, doing clinicals and I’ll be at my new job. We can find a place and finally start our lives together. Armin, I love you so much and I don’t want to see you throw your life away. Please..promise me you’ll find your way back to me when you’re ready. When we’re both in a better place..” once he spotted your tearful plea and heard the tone in your voice, he knew what had to be done. Personal feelings aside..you were absolutely right. He knew if he stood any chance of keeping you in his life, he had to blossom into a grown man that you could be proud of. One that was worthy of being called yours. Reaching up, Armin would grasp your hand and bring it to his lips for a gentle kiss, holding it close. He wanted to remember that feeling..savor it and savor you as well. God, he didn’t want you to leave, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye!..but this was the only way. The only way he could ensure that he got to have you in the long run. He wanted you two to grow old together so he’d make this temporary sacrifice to be able to share an eternity with you.

“..you have my word, angel. I promise..I promise I’ll come back to you a better man than what I’ve been..”

“Then take me…right here.”

just then, you’d feel his hand snake up your spine and tug you down towards his chest..not another word was exchanged. Just slow, tender pecks and breathy moans..immersed in the covers and in one another, you’d allow the moment to take you both. Your palms cupping his cheek and his gripping your ass, you’d tousle around underneath the sheets. It didn’t take long for the endearing moment to become rather heated but it was a true testament of the passion between you two. In a moment of haste, his nails would gently dig into the curvature of your back as you leaned up. In a matter of minutes, you’d feel his once flaccid erect growing harder underneath you. The sensation of your dripping heat making direct contact with him..and it was driving him crazy! He needed you so badly right now and you were just the same.

“Armieeee..”

calling out with a high pitched whimper as you ground yourself against him. You couldn’t stop either..almost as if you’d simply combust if you were to be pulled away from him right now. Frail cries would escape his lips as well but he’d find a semblance of control to satisfy your desires, which took precedence over everything else.

“Yes, baby? Tell me what you need..”

cooing to you in that sweet, loving tone that always managed to turn you to meet putty in his hands every time. You were still hopelessly rutting yourself against him; arousal overflowing from between your thighs that quickly. He knew what you wanted but he needed to hear you say the fateful words..give him instruction and guidance the way you had always done. “Hey, look at me, mama..” gently snatching your head forward and forcing eye contact as your chest heaved. “N-need you. Need you so bad, baby..please. Make love to me..” and with that whiny declaration, he’d make haste in fulfilling your wish. With a cocked smile, Armin would reign you in tighter, reaching for you. “Then here..take my hands, angel..” on his command, your hands would join in a gentle clasp, combining as one as you adjusted your lower half to align with his. He’d buck his hips upward and you’d lower yourself down as your bodies became one… meeting in an instant. “Fuck…” the word escaping your mouths simultaneously along with gentle moans. That seemed to be the theme for the night. A stark comparison to the wild nights you shared together previously. Perhaps.. it was the realization that this was really the last time you’d get to do this for a while. That he wouldn’t be able to feel the comfort of your body, to smell your intoxicating scent..to clash with your plump lips..to taste the sticky gloss that coated them. To stare into those gorgeous brown eyes. So as he lie underneath you, being rode to kingdom come as your tightness constricted around him once more, Armin would close his eyes and absorb every memory, every fiber of you..ensuring that he’d never forget his first and true love.

“There you go, baby. Right there..ride me—fuck!”

and he couldn’t possibly forget how you made him feel. How you set him ablaze with your overwhelming passion..still bound hand in hand, heart to heart, you’d keep going. Throwing your head to the wind and calling out your lover’s name, lifting it to the heavens as you bounced up and down. Taking him to your hilt; allowing that swollen tip to prod your most sensitive area. “Armin, baby! Yes..oh my gosh, you feel so good.” For the first time, you didn’t just fuck him. His flesh was more than a mere vessel of pleasure..it was your soul becoming one with his own. You were experiencing true pleasure in its purest form..and neither of you wanted it to end. Finally opening his eyes, he’d be greeted by the ethereal view of your breasts swaying and your beautiful face throwed in ecstasy filled bliss. “Aw, baby..you’re so beautiful. My favorite view in the entire world.” Smiling as tears streamed generously down your cheeks. “Oh my God—I love you, Armin! I love you so much.” Confessing with all that you could muster. And that warm, gushing sensation derived from your sex wasn’t lost on Armin either. He’d find himself in a fit of heaving as your walls closed in around his cock. Squeezing him as if to never let go. “Ahh!-shit..I love you too, baby!—“

in that moment, he could no longer hold back his urges. His need to claim full dominion over you..hastily, he’d bring you to a cease before maneuvering and flipping you over onto your back. It was then that he’d mount you. Diving between your legs as he held each in place. He didn’t even take a moment to adjust. It was mere seconds before you’d find yourself filled with him yet again and he’d begin his descent into your mix. Sloshing and drumming up slick as your thighs collided in a fiery haze. The bed..the one that you’d messed around in so many times before served as the place of consummation for your devotion tonight..ricocheting and colliding with the wall as thunderous slams erupted. Your limbs entangled as your legs found home around his waist and your arms on his back. His entire frame lay bare and pressed to your own as those hips crashed into you. It felt unreal..so unbelievably unreal. But this was the present..your reality for the time being so you’d savor every last moment you got together. Drilling further into your body, his pace sped to a barrage of more steady, consistent strokes. Ones that he would accompany with sloppy tongue kisses. Filling your mouth with them as he pounded you gently. You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. Regardless of how many times you slept together, something about this moment was starkly different. “Look at me, (y/n)!…” once again, snatching your head forward to meet his gaze. “You’re mine..you’re mine and I don’t give a damn where you go. I belong to you, you hear me? Don’t forget that..” those tears that had been brimming in his eyes finally fell and you’d affirm his sentiment with a fierce nod of your head, assuring him that no amount of distance or time could ever dissipate the love you shared for one another. “Yes baby! And I’m all yours, forever. I won’t ever leave you.” Sealing your promises with one final act..

“Yeah? You mean that?” “Every word, baby. I want you to always be with me..” Vocalizing back and forth as he continually thrashed around inside of your pussy until he sensed the urge that you were close. Upholding one another’s heads in a passionate fury, you’d exchange breathy words amid your love making. Telling him you’re near your peak and him telling you to let go. “Come for me, baby. You can come all over—“ but alas, before he could grant you permission, it would seem that he’d reach his climax first; glaring with a wide eyed expression as his seed filled you to the brim..something he’d never done before! Cursing himself and apologizing as he shook violently, draining every drop of himself into you. Perhaps he took your words a bit too literal but it was far too late to turn back now and shortly after, you’d follow. Showering him with a splatter of sticky rain. Squeezing and dripping all down his shaft. You’d convulse and flail around the mattress until he was able to quell you with gentle kisses. “I’m right here, mama. Let it out, it’s okay..” but once you were back into consciousness, you still wouldn’t let go and you remained entangled like this minutes afterwards. Exchanging “I love you’s” and sweet nothings. Along with tears..shedding them not for what would be lost but the time you had together and the comfort in knowing that you’d reunite soon enough. This time as more than friends with benefits or even mere freshmen sweethearts. But as an entity, an item that could never be separated because your bond was forged on a stronger foundation than one made of pure lust. It was love that would drive you to be better versions of yourselves, to work hard and it was love..that would bring you right back to one another when the time was truly right!

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@citysweet @greenieweeniesworld @hoohoohope @c0pkiller @bey0nseh @violetxxvenom @dragonmaiden79 @fuck-your-chickenstrips-hoe @saiki-enthusiast

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ourautumn86 · 4 months

Text

consume

vampire! reader x human! ellie williams

“ and you can take my flesh if you want girl, but baby don’t abuse it. these voices in my head screaming run now, i’m praying that they’re human. ”

synopsis; heartbroken, for having lost the love of her life, in one of her multiple sleepless nights, the danger creeps through her open window, hungry, famished for blood… a danger with your face.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!! angst (with happy ending), blood, breeding kink, praise kink, praising, dirty talking, degradation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (e! receiving), fingering (f receiving), tribbing, cum eating, dirty talking, dry humping, teasing, overstimulation, blood kink, blood drinking, biting…

That night was like any other. Ellie laying there in absolute darkness and silence, staring at the ceiling, trying to sleep to no avail. She had been crying all day. Like the last 6 days. Unable to stop thinking about you, her girlfriend, who had disappeared almost a week ago with no trace behind. It had all been her fault. If only she had given you a lift that night after the cinema… If only she had insisted when you said you wanted to take a walk back to the apartment… Maybe you would be safe now. Maybe you would be knocking at her door, sleeping beside her… She would be hugging you, kissing you, saying i love you to you in the mornings…

But suddenly, she heard something bumping through the night at the salon of her apartment. Her eyes widened as every single muscle of her body froze in place, expecting, awaiting for the sound to fill the space once again so she could be sure that it was real and not just another trick of her tired mind. Her breathing was quiet, so quiet she may have even stopped breathing at all.

She jumped out of bed when she heard more bumping and crashing down the hall, all six senses on alert and ready to fight. ‘2:45’ her clock read. Someone was inside her apartment, someone who wasn’t supposed to be inside.

“Shit.” she muttered, eyes quickly looking for something to defend herself. Her mind was working on full speed, ‘till her switchblade came to it. Her hands were shaking when she took it in between her fingers, steps silent and careful as she walked towards her door, swinging it open as she heard ruffling from the kitchen.

As she grew closer to it, the refrigerator’s light filled the room and allowed her to see the window she had left just the slightest open, so the apartment wouldn’t get too hot, completely open, the curtains dancing with the wind that came through and inside.

Carefully, she neared the end and corner of the hallway, peeking just the slightest just to see someone rumbling through her fridge, tossing things out of it, breaking glass jars and containers in the process all around the floor. Ellie almost cursed. She couldn’t really see the person, head fully inside the fridge, only a pair of really dirty and torn shorts with messy shoes on sight. Nice, probably a fucking drug addict or psycho. And the phone was just beside the door, across the goddamn kitchen. She would be seen before she could get to it.

She would have to take care of it on her own.

She slowly approached the intruder, knife in hand and silent steps, though her heart jumped on her chest when the person rumbling through her bridge suddenly stopped, froze on the spot. Ellie’s eyes widened, she was feet away from them. There was no possible way she had been heard, right?

Oh but she had…

Her breath hitched when the intruder took a grip on the fridge’s door. Fingers curling, sharp and blood stained nails screeching on the metal.

“Oh shit.” she said, quickly turning around towards the door to run. Run as faster as she could. ‘Cause she knew that whatever it was that was inside her apartment wasn’t human. Not anymore.

However, she couldn’t reach the exit, faster that the human eye, the intruder blocking her way before she could even take a single step.

She stumbled backwards, tripping over a carpet and falling to the floor, knife scattering away from her grip and reach. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” she cursed, her heart hammering against her ribs when the creature stepped closer, her trying to get away, talons digging in the rug. Soon enough, she found herself cornered against the kitchen’s little aisle. She screamed when it lounged itself towards her, straddling her lap, face incredibly close to hers. The light from outside doors made it imposible to figure out its face. Her eyes widened when one of its hands rose towards her face, sharp nails inching closer to her skin. She knew she had to move, now.

In a quick movement, she got herself on top of the intruder this time, one of her hands gripping its wrists to keep it from scaping or moving.

All the words died in her throat when her eyes found those which she had stared into with so much love years on end. Those same eyes that stared up at her in complete silence, fear, embarrassment... “y/n?” she inquired, voice just above a whisper, strangled, hurt…

You looked away before she could look too closely, eyes shut and teary, though it didn’t work since her warm touch tried to cup your cheek, your hands quickly darting to push her away “Don’t touch me!” and —faster than she could follow— crashing against the furthest wall. Your voice was hoarse, terrified… Ellie just stared at you, shock crushing her veins as tears down her cheeks.

It was you.

You clothes were a mess, all bloody and torn on the places you’ve been attacked, hair locks sticking together due to the pool of blood your body had rested on your last moments, skin paler than the moon and colder than pure ice and your eyes… Those eyes that she so adored… Were the color of the purest vermillion she had ever seen. But it was you.

She tried and step closer to you, try to ask where had you been. What had happened. But you rose one of your hands to keep her from doing so, stopping her on her tracks. “Don’t.”

“y/n, baby, please…” she tried.

“Please don’t.” you begged her, voice breaking in sobs. “I’m a monster…” you said, hiding your face, your arms surrounding your body, as if you could hide yourself from her eyes.

She should be confused, and she was, but the fact that you were there, alive, that you were there, back at her, the fact that she could see you one more time, hear your voice… Healed her broken heart, made all that sadness inside of her, choking her, disappear.

Her hands reached for her abandoned phone on the aisle, sending a ‘code red’ message to the group she shared with you and her best friends before putting it back down. Emergency. Making counts, they’d be there in less than 20 min with Dina’s car.

You flinched when she took a step closer, hands raising to your ears. “Stop.” you muttered, but she took yet another step. You could hear everything, from the energy buzzing on the refrigerator, to the flapping of bats’ wings outside the window, the walking of little insects on the gravel, the sound of her tears rolling down her cheeks, her shaky breathing, her quickened heartbeat, the rushing of her blood, the pulse on her neck…

You pushed yourself even harder against the wall, as if you could melt with it, scape.

“y/n, please… Look at me…” she pleaded, she was now just inches away from you. “Please baby…, look at me.”

“Stay away!” you screamed, eyes fully open, red showing against the white. It was then when she saw them; the fangs. White, sharp, deadly fangs that shone under the moonlight, threatening, trying to scare her away. You quickly turned your face away, hiding it.

She knew she should be terrified, all those voices in her head screaming ‘run now’, but she only could think about how beautiful you were.

Your hands pushed against her chest when her hand gently cupped your cheek, brushing your cheek bone, her warmth contrasting against the coldness of your skin and making you shiver.

“Don’t look at me, I’m horrible…” you cried, having nowhere to run when she fully cupped your face, making you stare right at her.

“You’re beautiful.” she muttered, shaking her head, her face so close you could count her beautiful and curly eyelashes. “So fucking beautiful…” you watched her lean in, no fear in her eyes as she stared at your chapped lips.

She needed to kiss you. Needed to make sure that this wasn’t just another one of her dreams, that you were there, back into her arms. That you were still hers, just as she was yours.

Sadly, the sound of car tires against the asphalt brought you two back to the present, and then, knocking in the door. Multiple of them. Dina and Jesse.

“Ellie!!!” Dina called out for her, all the sudden noise making you get startled when Jesse started to scream too. If she didn’t open up soon they’d woke up the neighbors.

“Don’t move.” she said, and with a chaste kiss on your forehead she stepped away. You found yourself missing her touch, her warmth, her smell… But also felt relief. Relief that she wasn’t just mere inches away from you. ‘Cause the only thing you could focus on was in the way the blood in her veins called out for you. Lured you in. Your throat itched, something deep within you begging for just a little taste. You didn’t understand what was going on. The heightened senses, the sensibility, the incredible new speed and strength…

The last thing you could remember was pain. So much pain… And blood, of yourself full aware of your imminent death. Next thing you know? You had woken up in the woods near your town, alone. You didn’t know for how long you’d been asleep, but it felt like ages.

Finally, you’ve crawled your way back into town and somehow found Ellie’s apartment. You didn’t know what had happened. Had you died? Why were you alive? The only thing you knew was that there was something wrong with you. It only took you a glance to yourself on one of her windows to see that.

“What is it?!? What’s wrong!?” Dina inquired as she quickly stepped inside the apartment, bat on hand and ready to swing.

“Guys-“

“Where is the motherfucker? I’ll take care of it.” Jesse said, stepping up with a gun in hand.

“There is no intruder.” Ellie tried to calm them down.

And you could see their bodies relaxing a little bit, muscles not as stiff anymore. Relief.

“Then what is it?” Dina asked, but before the auburn head could answer, you had stepped out of the shadows.

“It’s me.” They got startled by the sudden intrusion in their conversation, ready to fight once again, but when the light that seeped in through the open door of her apartment made you visible, their weapons dropped.

“y—y/n?” they were in shock, frozen in space. In time. Were you real or were they all having a collective hallucination?

You looked at them and gave them a weak smile, insecure, afraid. And that was when they realized that you were indeed real. That it was you.

“Oh my god.” Dina sobbed, covering her mouth with her hands.

They were quick to try and approach you, but Ellie was quicker to step in between to stop them as you staggered backwards.

“Woah, easy.” she rose her hands, eyebrows quirked in a warning. You hid behind her, feeling overwhelmed. They stared at her in confusion. “We need to talk.”

“…”

“What the hell?!” Jesse inquired, in shock.

“So… You don’t remember anything?” Dina inquired, as shocked as her boyfriend, who faced you as you sat on Ellie’s couch.

“Nothing.” you nodded, eyes squinting at the light above your head. Head throbbing. You could hear it buzzing. “I just… Suddenly there was a lot of pain. And blood everywhere. And then nothing.”

“Shouldn’t we… Get her to a hospital or something?” Jesse spoke up, winning a ‘really?’ gaze from the girls. “Okay! I’m sorry!” he rose his hands. “Not every day someone dies and comes back from the dead, you know?” he mumbles, barely a whisper.

“Maybe…” Dina started, and everyone looked at her with expecting eyes, as if she had finally might found an answer to whatever is going on. “Maybe not.” she backed up and they sighed.

Your eyes quickly darted to the window when you caught the sound of crickets, they were like sirens ringing right beside you. You tugged your legs closer to your chest, teeth bitting down on your nails.

“And now she has this…, super powers.” Jesse squinted, and Ellie nodded. “Like Superman?” he inquired.

“No. Or yes? I don’t know!” your girlfriend sighed, obviously stressed and overwhelmed by the situation. The conversation only heated up even more after that.

“You don’t know?!”

“No.”

“How come you don’t know?!”

But you weren’t truly listening. Too focused on everything you could catch. The sound of all their breathings, the sound of a couple of fighting cats in the distance, the wind whistling thought the trees branches, your own blood painfully pumping through your dried veins…

“Too much.” you mumbled.

“Dude. I’m telling you. I know about music, not supernatural shit.”

“Guys…” Dina tried and stopped them from fighting.

“But you found her!” Jesse ignored her.

The intensity of the light below you, the feeling of your skin glued to your muscles, the tickling of your hair…

“Too much.” you repeated, teeth breaking the skin of your fingers.

“She was the one that found me!!”

“Jesse, stop.” Dina said, and then everyone was talking over everybody.

You could see the pulse on their neck, their veins pressing against their skin. So vulnerable… So easy… You could almost taste it on your tongue. It’s sweetness, it’s thick and warm consistence sliding down your throat.

“Stop!!!!” your scream almost ripped your throat, so loud you swore you had woken up the whole neighborhood.

They all backed up a little when your red eyes met theirs and your fangs showed up. Dina and Jesse couldn’t help the way their hands twitched with the need to raise their weapons.

You covered your ears when the sound of their quickened hearts pushing against their ribcages got louder, groaning.

“Fuck.” you whimpered, hiding your face. “I’m sorry.” you cried out, voice strained. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to…” and just as Ellie was about to step closer you stoped her. “No. Please don’t.” you curled on yourself, pressing your hands against your face, sobbing. “I’m so hungry.” you cried, suddenly, and if you weren’t that serious about it, you would have laughed about the stupidness of your words. But you felt like dying.

Every goddamn cell on your body burned, begged… Something deep inside you aching to bite, tear… Teeth hurting, fangs growing. You stood up, and in a blink of an eye you were back on her fridge. They seemed surprised, cause you were quicker that the light itself.

Glass broke under your shoes as you searched inside for something that you could eat. Anything. That’s when you smelled it. That sweet metallic smell. Your shaky hands threw everything aside, mouth watering at the sight of a full raw and big steak. Meat. Fresh and bloody cow steak.

Stumbling against the kitchen aisle, you tore down the plastic that enveloped it, nails digging on the softness of it. You couldn’t even think. Hand quick to tear the meat to pieces and push it inside your mouth. You looked like a predator, blood dripping down your lips and chin, down to your chest and onto your torn tee. You hummed, eyes bloodshot and bluish veins growing under your eyes as you fed on it. You sighed, throwing your head backwards, feeling relief yet still not getting rid of that aching deep inside your bones.

When your eyes met your friends’, they were wide open, speechless. They were frozen in place, feet glued to the floor as they watched droplets of blood soak the aisle.

It was then, when you realized what you had done.

And the only thing that you could mutter was a “What’s happening to me?”

You were completely silent, sat inside a bathtub full of warm water, Ellie gently washing your hair for you, her own on a low bun as she concentrated on taking every last bit of blood and dirt out of your locks and body.

It was around 4AM. Dina and Jesse had gone home, promising to come back in a few hours after getting some sleep to start thinking about an explanation and a plan to explain your survival and new life style.

“I can…” you tried to say, but she hushed you, gently washing off the shampoo on your hair and the blood on it. You felt relaxed. You should be feeling overwhelmed, since you could smell Ellie everywhere, but just by having her by your side you felt… Safe. Better. Although scared… Better.

“Let me.” she soothed you, giving you a soft smile. You shivered when her fingertips brushed your hair away, head lolling to the side and onto your shoulder. Your skin burned where her warm touch resided. “You alright?” she asked, pouring more water onto your back to wash away the soap from your body.

You hummed, silently allowing her to take care of you through the whole process of washing you clean and rolling you up on a towel to keep you warm as she drained all the dirty water before drying you up.

Her eyes never left your face as she did so, even though you were completely naked in front of her, she only focused on you, on dressing you up on the comfiest clothes she could find on her closet and combing your hair. You swore you had fallen in love yet once again.

You caught her attention when your hands gripped softly her shoulders, her eyes leaving your hair to find yours. “What is it, baby?” she inquired, and you felt tears pooling on your eyes, ‘cause she treated you like always, like she did before you died, before you turned into this… Monster.

You didn’t say anything, you didn’t have to, it was all in your eyes. You felt like melting against her when she got rid of the comb on her hand to hug you closer to her by your waist. You gasped, cause just the simple feeling of her hands was so intense… Her breath against your lips, her hands, her body pressed tightly against you… That you had to pull away before she could kiss you.

“Sorry.” you muttered against her chest, fisting the fabric of her soft tee. She only smiled, shaking her head.

“Let’s go to bed, hm? You need to sleep.” she pressed a little kiss on your forehead before taking your hand and guiding you towards your room.

She tucked you in but didn’t get inside the bed. “You aren’t staying?” you rose to your elbows as she walked to the door.

“I thought…” her mouth opened and closed before continuing, unsure. “I thought about leaving you the bed for tonight so you can-“

“I don’t wanna be alone.” you cut her off, surprising her. “I…“ and before you could continue, she was already by your side. Holding you close. Holding you as if she’d fall apart if she let you go. As of you’d disappear if she let go of you.

You shook in her arms and she was about to pull away, but you hugged her back, trying to not let the overwhelming feeling of her being so close to you prevent you from finally being back into her arms.

“Is this okay?” she muttered softly on your ear, hearing your shaky breathing. You were burning, her warm body tightly pressed against your freezing one, skin tingling where her fingers rested.

You didn’t know how much time you stayed like that. Minutes turned into hours, and soon enough, she had fallen asleep. She was finally sleeping, for the first time in days. And you? You couldn’t even close your eyes.

Whatever you did, all you could see, smell and feel was Ellie. She was making your senses collapse, getting you high as if she were some kind of drug you craved with every fiber of your being.

You could hear her steady and slow heartbeat, feel her soft breathing against your neck, making your skin grow in goosebumps. Your lips mere inches from hers. Against the pulsing vein that called your name with every thump of her heart. Suddenly, that aching deep within you that had subsided after your ‘meal’, came back, making your throat grow dry and mouth water. You only needed to lean just a little bit closer, erase the few inches that separated your lips from her neck and…

In a quick movement you were out of the bed and far away from her, hands covering your mouth as you felt that incredible hunger threatening you to break your bones.

You grunted as you staggered away from the room and outside the apartment, the freezing air of the night hitting your already dead cold skin, yet you couldn’t feel it.

“What’s wrong with me?” you muttered in between sobs. “Why… Why me?” you broke down, unable to stop your crying.

This wasn’t supposed to go this way. You were supposed to rest knowing that you had loved, loved so hard you couldn’t breathe. That you died knowing what true love was. You weren’t supposed to come back, you weren’t supposed to be turned into this… Thing. This monster that scared your friends, a monster that can only think about her girlfriend’s blood on its lips.

Your eyes squinted when a sudden beam of sunlight hit your face. Sunrise. It hurt your eyes, really badly, so you forcefully had to wipe your tears and get back inside, where Ellie was already waiting for you, fully awake. You almost cursed.

“Hey…” she whispered, getting closer to you. “Where did you go? I woke up and you weren’t there anymore.” she was soft, concerned. And it only made you feel worse. Sicker.

“I just went outside for a little. Needed some air.” you gave her a weak smile, eyes resting on the hand that stroke your arm, on the veins on her wrists.

You suddenly felt dizzy. So dizzy you almost fell if it weren’t for the auburn haired, who caught you on time.

“Woah woah, you okay baby?” she inquired, and you nodded.

“Yeah, sorry.” you lied. “I just felt dizzy all of a sudden.”

“Here, sit down.” she helped you get to the couch, never letting go of you. “Jesse and Dina will be here soon, I just got a call from them.” she said, pulling a blanket on top of you. “We’ll make you feel better soon, alright? I promise. We’ll fix this.” she kissed your forehead, the feeling of her lips lingering on your skin, burning. You almost begged for more.

But you knew you couldn’t have more, ‘cause it would never be enough.

You knew you couldn’t have enough. You couldn’t ‘cause you knew it’d consume you.

“We’ve got it! We’ve got it!” you whined when Jesse came rushing inside through the apartments door with a loud bang. “Sorry.” he awkwardly apologized when he saw you holding your head in between your hands.

“What is it that you’ve got?” Ellie asked, munching on cereals. Their crunching only made your headache worse. Whatever you did, it only seemed to get worse by the second. It wouldn’t got away. Like your growing hunger.

“We know what’s wrong with her.” Dina explained.

That made Ellie push everything aside to pay attention and concentrate on what mattered the most: You.

“You know?” you too focused on the group, hope in your red eyes.

“She’s a vampire!” Jesse exclaimed.

“Vampire?” you scoffed. “So you’re saying that I’m a vampire?” you let out a laughter, awaiting for all of them to tag along, but when they didn’t, you slowly fell silent, frowning as you noticed. “I’m a vampire.”

“You’re a vampire.” they all nodded, and you fell backwards onto the couch, a sigh leaving your lips, your mind a mess.

That explains everything.

“And what does this mean? Will I get to live forever? Am I allergic to garlic and holy water now? Will I die if I stay underneath the sun for too long?” you inquired, swallowing harshly. “Will I… Will I need to drink blood for the rest of my life?”

They were all silent for a second.

“Do you feel the need to drink it now?” Dina inquired, taking a seat beside you.

They all awaited expectantly for your answer, which only made you nervously smile. “I guess this isn’t the best moment to say how good all of you smell, right?” you joked, although it didn’t really seem to get them. “Yeah, sorry.” you muttered, curling yourself in the blanket.

“So…, what do we do now? ‘Cause she surely doesn’t look really good and It’s not like we can get blood anywhere, right?” Jesse inquired, and once again there were a couple of seconds of silence.

“She could drink from me.” Ellie suddenly said, and the whole group looked at her with a surprised face and widened eyes, even you.

“No.” you quickly blurted out before any of them could add anything.

“But y/n…” Dina tried and talk you down, but you were quick to turn her down.

“No.” you repeated, harshly this time. “I’m not gonna drink from Ellie nor any of you.” your fangs showed as you stood up, tossing away the blanket and stepping away and towards Ellie’s room. “I’d rather die of thirst first.” and with that, you closed the door.

“y/n, baby, please…” she pleaded. You had heard her talking with the group just a few minutes earlier, they had been coming every morning to ask for and about you. Each day that went by more and more concerned.

It had been almost a week since your last encounter and since you had grounded yourself in her room under the promise that you’d rather die than drink from them. They had even snuck into the hospital and somehow stolen a blood bag and brought it to you, but you yet turned it down, unable to —even though your hunger was tearing you apart—, drink it up. ‘Cause you knew that if you did, whatever that this curse was would be real. You’ve done your research, —well, the group had and you’ve heard— and you knew that you only had a few days to drink human blood to complete the transition and become a full vampire or else you’d die.

You hadn’t left her room since then, —unless you had to make a short trip to the bathroom—, burying yourself in between her sheets, ignoring her every time she tried to make you change your mind.

You were dead. And you’d be in just a couple of days. That’s how it had to be. The natural course of things. Ellie didn’t deserve to be stuck with a leech for the rest of her life —‘cause you knew that she loved you enough to do so if you didn’t walk away—, she deserved someone who was still alive, someone warm, someone who didn’t need to consume human blood to survive and that will live forever. Someone who she could take out without having to hide or be scared to be discovered due to a slip.

She deserved the best she could get. And that wasn’t you. That would never be you anymore.

So you’d wither. You’d sleep. And when the time came, you’d turn back to the dust that you came from.

“Please, look at me.” your heart broke every time she would face you, kneeled on the floor, on her knees and begging for you to just stare at her. But you couldn’t, ‘cause you knew that if you did, if you looked into those beautiful green eyes of hers, you’d give in. You’d listen. You’d let her convince you to drink her blood and live.

And you couldn’t do that to her.

“Baby…” he was desperate. Tears prickling her eyes as she caressed your hair, your hollowed cheeks and prominent cheekbones, warm fingertips against your cold stone skin, which slowly turned into ice. You looked like a living corpse, with thinning hair and the palest skin, which started to show your bones due to starvation.

You could smell the blood on her veins, your stomach turning on itself, urging you to bite down on her wrist and suck. You squeezed your eyes shut as your tongue dampened your chapped grayish lips, fighting off the urge to feed on her, to sink your teeth on her neck, but she saw it, how those little veins below your eyed appeared and your fangs pushed against your bottom lip. She felt like dying along with you with every day that passed by.

“Please, don’t do this to me…” she muttered, unable to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks. “Don’t let me lose you again.” she pleaded.

And you couldn’t help to look at her when your ears took in the sound of the droplets falling onto the floor.

And just like every time she looked at you, she took your breath away. You hated it, hated the way she would make you weak on the knees even on this situation, make you want to make up your mind, convince yourself that everything would be fine and that it was right to live beside her.

“Don’t leave me.” she sobbed, making you feel like you’d fall apart right and there. “I need you. I can’t sleep if you are not there for me to hold. I can’t breath of you’re not around. I can’t think, I can’t function if you’re not there.” your cold hand cupped her cheek, making her take a shaky and hurtful breath as you tried and wipe away her tears. “I can’t live without you.”

“You can’t live with me now either.” you whispered, your voice breaking due to the amount of days you’ve stood silent and the dryness of your throat. She shook her head, trying to talk, but you went ahead and cut her off. “I can’t be with you. Not like this. I’m dead Ellie… I’m a monster. I’ll never age with you. If we ever wanted to, we wouldn’t be able to have kids… I’d watch you get older, and die. And I’d still be here, for eternity. An eternity without you. Without the love of my life…” you muttered, unable to hold in your tears any longer. “You need someone that can give you all those thing, Ellie. You deserve it…”

She was shaking her head, needing to tell you that none of that was real. That she loved you the same. That you weren’t a monster. That you both could adopt if you ever wanted a kid. That she’d never be able to find another love. ‘Cause you were it for her.

And she did, she said it all out loud without even realizing it. Pouring her heart out for you to see, For you to take. For you to hold on to.

“I love you. I’ll always love you. I’ll die for you. I’ll find a way to live with you forever. ‘Cause that’s all I ever wanted, an eternity by your side. An eternity that was taken away from me one time. And that now I’d not let get away again. So please… Love me. Choose me. Choose me over all the odds. And if you need to, kill me. ‘Cause either ways, I’d be dead without you.” she said, taking your hand and pushing it against her chest, over her heart. It sounded almost strained, ready to burst, to break in a million places.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t say no. Not when you loved her so much it hurt.

She was quick to held you in between her arms when you gave in, hands gently pulling from you to straddle her lap, chest against chest, tightly pressed against one another. “I’m yours. My blood is yours.” she said, one of her hands softly brushing your hair and guiding you to the crook of her neck, where her pulse pressed against her soft skin. “You can bite me, sweetheart. I’m all yours.” she promised, assuring you that it was okay. That she was okay.

You felt the hunger kick in like a tidal wave, making your skin crawl and your breath shake. You could smell it, almost taste it. Eyes turning red as you neared your lips to her neck, the hand on your hair never faltering, steady, ready. She shivered when your lips brushed against her skin, her head tilting even more to the side to give you all the space you needed.

And before you could realize it, blood was spilling inside your mouth. Warm sweet blood that made you grip her bare shoulders and hum as you sucked. Her fingers dug on your hips, gasping when she felt the pinch of your fangs and droplets of blood slid down her neck and onto her shirt.

“That’s it, baby.” she said, pulling you closer and relaxing against the bed’s headboard. “Take as much as you need.” she muttered, sighing at the new and strangely pleasant feeling of the bite.

She had made herself aware about the fact that it would probably hurt. In the end, her neck was being punctured. But strangely enough, it felt…, nice. Incredible even.

Her head felt all fuzzy. She felt…, high. At least there was no other way to describe it. It was probably an effect of the bite, an aphrodisiac, to soothe the ‘prey’ so they won’t fight as you drank from them.

She felt amazing. And so did you.

Her blood was the best thing you’ve ever tasted. You couldn’t get enough. It made the ache on your body go away, your headache, your dizziness, your weakness… Everything. And left you feeling hungry for more. More of her. Of her touch, of her quickened heartbeat.

Everything seemed too much. But even if it was, you craved more.

“Shit.” Ellie cursed when you grinded yourself down on her lap, making the grip that she had on your hips tighten.

You got away from her neck, blood dripping from the corners of your lips as you stared at her, tongue darting out to clean your bottom lip from the crimson. “Ellie…” you whimpered, smelling the arousal grow underneath her sweatpants. You were burning up.

“Fuck, doll.” her eyes were half-lidded, breath heavy and shaky and lips blushed due to her bitting down on her bottom. “What d’ you do to me?”

“I don’t know…” you whined, unable to stop your hips to rocking against hers, the brushing and jumping against your clit intensified, making your mind all fuzzy. It felt so good…

You looked so hot, with your red eyes and blood tinting your lips. You didn’t looked sick anymore, your hair shining and color blushing your cheeks. You looked as beautiful as the day she lost you. Even more, if that could be possible.

And she needed you so much you were driving her insane.

“You taste so good…” you groaned, going back to her neck, licking up the blood and kissing bruises on her skin, making her tilt her head backwards in a moan when you went back to drinking from her.

“You’re killing me.” she withered underneath you, her hands helping you to rock against her, feeling like if you stopped whatever you were doing she’d die, needing you to keep touching her, licking her neck, using her… She needed you to suck her dry.

“Fuck Ellie, I need you.” the two of you felt so turned on… Probably due to the blood, bite and the connection you already shared. It was as if you were two magnets, two puzzle pieces meant to fit together, meant to be stuck together for eternity.

You needed her to take you, to make you hers, to fuck you ‘till you’d lost your voice. Needed to taste her, to ride her. You wanted everything at the same time. Whimpers leaving your throat at the aching in between your legs, in your bones for her to touch you, to set you on fire with her burning touch.

Your skin grew in goosebumps when she harshly crashed her lips onto yours, the taste of her blood on your lips making her groan, hips jerking up as her hands slid underneath —her— your shirt, warm fingertips against your cold skin, exploring the body she so well knew already.

The kiss was messy, the clashing of your tongues and teeth making it feel primal, as if the only thing there were was the two of you, your sharp nails dug on the neck of her shirt, ripping it apart in a quick movement, teeth biting down on your bottom lip when your blood-shot eyes roamed through her bare chest, which raised with every quick and shaky breath. Her skin was like fire against your cold fingertips.

You shivered when her thumb pulled from your lip, letting it go from your fangs, eyes fixated on your mouth as her tongue dampened her own, begging for another taste. She moaned when your lips brushed her wrist, your hand keeping it in place as you leaned in and bit down on it.

“Shit.” she gasped, her pussy throbbing inside her pants when you moaned against her, ready to bust, arousal soaking her underwear. She swore she could just cum by the feeling of your teeth on her skin. She was on edge.

She looked so beautiful, with blood sliding and pooling on her collarbones and her tits, crimson swollen lips and green blown eyes shining under the moonlight that came through the window of your bedroom.

“You like that?” you teased her, licking the blood off her wrist with a smirk. You could feel just how wet she was, smell her arousal. It made you so wet. Wetter than you had ever been. And you craved her so much you felt like dying.

She groaned, as if she were in pain. “Don’t.”

Her head lolled backwards, your lips leaving blood stain marks on her chest and down her stomach as you lowered yourself and slid down her body, your fangs gracing her skin in playful yet teasing marks that weren’t hard enough to break the skin.

Her fingers laced on your hair when your lips latched to her hip bone, sucking a bruise on her skin, making her moan and buck her hips against your mouth when your tongue traced the print of her wetness from beneath her clothes. “Fuck, baby…”

You hummed, knowing exactly what she needed. What you needed. “Want your pussy, Ellie.” your hands were quick to push down her sweats and underwear, her soaked cunt showing, puffy clit and twitching entrance begging for attention.

Your mouth watered at the sight. The smell of her musk so strong it was driving you crazy. You needed her on your tongue. Needed her to fill your mouth in cum, fuck you stupid…

She let out a raspy moan when your tongue sticked out, tasting and wiping off the slick from her weeping folds, your heightened senses making you hum at the taste. You felt like you couldn’t get enough of it.

Her fingers tugged harder on your hair when your tongue kitten licked her swollen clit, making her tremble, the aphrodisiac effect of the bite making her the most sensitive she had ever been before. You kissed her lips, teeth gently brushing against the sensitive skin, making her moan.

You smirked, eyes meeting hers when you tongue made a long stripe from her clenching hole to her clit, fangs on display and blood on your lips. Her cunt now stained on her blood, what made her twitch. “Such a fucking tease…” she groaned, breath hitching when you suddenly sucked her clit in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks. “Fuck!” she almost came on the spot, your own moans vibrating around her, making her head roll backwards.

She looked so hot, your thighs clenched and pushed against each other, trying to find some friction, anything. The needy moans and whimpers that left your throat made the feeling of your mouth, warm against her, heavenly.

“So good…” she praised when you started to earnestly eat her out, your head moving up and down and side to side as you licked her, her hand guiding you, your nose burying in her pubic hair, making your head all fuzzy. You loved giving Ellie head, feeling her slick fill your mouth, loved it when she fucked your face with the purpose to please herself. You loved to be her little toy. “Yeah, just like that, fuck.” it all felt so intense for the both of you, like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. “Such a good little girl, letting me fuck your mouth how I want.” your nails dug in her thighs, making her groan. “I’m gonna cum, shit.” she mumbled, her mouth falling open as you sucked harder on her clit, the oversensivity being too much and pushing her straight to the edge. “Fuckfuckfuck!!!” hot stripes of cum filled your mouth as she thrusted against it one more time, keeping you still as she came, groaning in pleasure. And if she weren’t that turned on and needy, she would have been embarrassed by how hard and fast she had cummed, but that didn’t matter, ‘cause you were back on her lap in a blink of an eye.

She was still dripping and throbbing after her first orgasm, and the feeling of your damped panties —since you had gotten rid of the pajama pants she had lent you— against her stomach made her groan. “Ellie…” you whined, feeling yourself about to burst when you rocked your hips against her, your skin burning whenever your bodies made contact. “Touch me please…” you begged, moaning when one of her hands pushed your tee above your head to latch her lips to your chest and tits as the other sneaked inside your panties. “Fuck!” you screamed when you felt her fingertips slowly slide in between your lips, getting soaked by your arousal.

“Too much, baby?” she mocked you, teasing you just like you had, her teeth biting on your nipples as her middle finger played with your clit. “You’re so wet. Did drinking my blood turned you on this much? Or maybe it was having my pussy on your mouth? Did you miss my cum, hm?” you nodded, whimpering as you rocked your hips against her fingers, which now circled your twitching tight hole. “Of course you did.” she cooed, pouting at you and then smirking when your mouth fell open in a silent moan at the feeling of two of her fingers easily sliding in into your soaked cunt. “Look at you, taking my fingers so good…” you were moaning as she thrusted into you, slowly, driving you insane. “I bet I can make you cum with just two of ‘em.” she mumbled against your ear before nipping at your earlobe, picking up her pace. “Do you want it? Want to cum all over my fingers, hm?” you hummed, tilting your head to the side when she started to suck on your neck, the feeling of her lips burning your skin. “Mmh? What was that? Need you to speak louder for me, baby.” a moan left your lips when she curved her fingers, hitting that sweet spot on your gummy walls, the squelch of your juices only making her cunt wetter and your mind dizzier.

“Yes, yes, please Ellie.” you sobbed, hands gripping her shoulders, nails digging on her skin when her free hand surrounded your neck, adding pressure. “Need it. Need it so bad…” you were a mumbling mess, her thumb now pressing against your clit, the coil in your stomach only getting stronger. You felt like you couldn’t breath.

“Good girl.” her fingers now fucking you just like you needed it, faster, deeper, harder, your g spot being hit with every new thrust, what had your legs shaking and moans and whimpers spilling from your swollen lips. Your walls tightened around her digits at her praise, teetering the edge, jumping on her fingers to make them reach deeper inside you, driving you insane. “You gonna cum, baby?” she hummed, loving how desperate you seemed. How wet you were for her, how beautiful your tits bounced with every grind of your hips, how your half-lidded eyes looked at her, full of desire. “Go ahead beautiful, come for me. Cum on my fingers.”

She didn’t have to ask twice, just the sound of her voice making you come the hardest you’ve ever had before. Vision turning white and ears ringing as you gushed all over her fingers, her thumb circling your clit to help you extend and help you ride it out. “That’s it. Give it to me, sweetheart.” you gasped for air as you came down, entrance twitching when her cum covered fingers left you “Look at that…” and found their way to her mouth, licking them clean and tasting you with a hum. “You’re always so sweet for me.” you moaned, making her eyebrows raise. “What is it, baby? Want a taste?” she inquired, and you were quick to pull her in for a wet and needy kiss.

She could taste herself in your mouth and yourself in hers. The mix of both of you making you crave for more, tugging from her as you let yourself fell backwards, making her rest in between your legs, pussy pressed against your sensitive and recently fucked cunt, what made the two of you moan on each other’s mouth. “Shit.” she cursed when you harshly bit down on her lip, her blood mixing in the kiss as you sucked on it, her hips rocking against yours, pussy sliding up and down in between your puffy and soaked folds. “Fuck, doll.” she muttered when your lips latched onto the skin of her neck, humping yourself against her, moaning when your clits bumped against the other.

“Fuck Ellie, fuck me, please… I need you so bad…” you pleaded, sloppy open mouth kisses driving her insane, one of your hands sliding into her hair to tug.

“Fuck, you’re such a greedy slut… I gave you my fingers and yet here you are, begging for my pussy.” she muttered, the hand on your neck tightening as she pushed you against the sheets, pining you down and lifting one of your legs to straddle you. “Look at you, so desperate. Can’t get enough, huh? It’s almost embarrassing.” you whimpered, you could perfectly push her away with your new incredible strength but there was something in her dominance that made you even wetter.

The prey hunting the predator.

“If you want it so bad, why don’t you show me?“ you moaned when her lips sucked a new bruise on your chest, one of her hands reaching down to your clit. “Show me how much you want it. Fuck yourself on my pussy sweetheart.” she nipped on your neck, and in a quick movement you were on top of her, having changed positions in a blink of an eye. Her head fell backwards when you exasperatedly straddled her, lined her up with your soaking cunt and sat down on hers, whimpering at the feeling of her wetness. “Shit, baby.” she let out a breathy groan as your nails dug on her chest.

“E-Ellie...” you shakily breathed out, your whole body shivering at the feeling as you rolled your hips. You felt so… Alive.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart. Fuck my pussy.” she grunted, the feeling of your soaked cunt against hers making it hard to hold off. She groaned when you sped up, desperately bouncing on her clit, using her to get yourself off. “So pretty jumping on my clit. How ’s it feel, hm?” she smirked when, when you felt her fingers brush away a lock of your hair from your face, you whimpered, eyes on her bloody wrist.

“So good…” you moaned, the smell of her blood making your hips stagger, the need to taste her once more making your skin grow in goosebumps.

“You hungry, baby?” she teased you, whispering, purposely letting the bite mark on her neck show, lingering right in front of your face.

You whimpered when just as you leaned in, fangs painful pushing against your gums ready to bite down on her neck, her hand gripped your neck once again, pushing you onto your back and taking one of your legs to fuck your cunt in earnest.

She was edging you. Starving you from her sweet blood.

“Ellie!” you screamed when when she harshly thrusted against your slick folds, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You always had a hard time taking it like this, at his relentless and merciless pace, the feeling of her clit pushing hardly against yours. But yet, you found pleasure in the pain, in the primal of it all. The neediness in her eyes, the grunts that fell from her lips.

“Yeah, just like that. Fucking take it.” she moaned, her thrusts being so hard the headboard of the bed banged against the wall, probably leaving dents. “Shit, so good.” she slurred, relishing on the babbling mess that you were underneath him. “You like that? Like my pussy, sweetheart?“ she smirked, pushing two of her fingers inside your mouth, making you choke on them, drool spilling down your chin before she’d duck down to kiss you, licking it from your lips.

The sight of your naked body underneath her, the way your tits bounced, the mess of your hair, the tears that started to pool on your eyes… It all only made her pound against you harder, feeling like it could never be enough of the feeling of your cunt against hers, making her grunt.

“Ellie, shit, har—ah—harder!” you begged, your sharp and pointy nails drawing blood from her arms and hips, making her moan.

“Harder?” he inquired, making you shakily nod, lost in your own pleasure. “Like this?” she relished on your high pitched scream when both his hands reached down to grip your hips to start pulling you harder against her clit with every new pound, making your back arch against the mattress with every thrust, your sensitive and throbbing clit being abused over and over again due to the new angle. Your moans only got louder, your voice strained and words being all slurred.

Your voice broke, feeling yourself getting closer to coming for the second time in less than 15 minutes, head lolling to the side. “I’m gon—na, gonna cum!” you somehow managed to babble out, in need of reaching your high.

“You gonna cum?” she smirked, making you moan as she focused on pounding you just how she knew you loved the most. “Gonna cum on my pussy?” you hardly nodded, muttering a string of messy ‘yes’s. “Look at you, so pussy drunk you can’t even talk.” she chuckled, feeling your walls tighten. “Go ahead baby, cum all over my pussy. Want to see that beautiful face of yours fall apart.” one, two, three thrusts more and you were dissolving under her touch, moans slipping from your lips as well as her name as you gushed all over her cunt, your orgasm tearing you apart. “Fuck, that’s it. Shit. ” she muttered, flopping on top of you to continue her relentless thrusts, making you sob due to the overstimulation. “I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill this greedy pussy of yours so full your tummy will swell up.” you cried out at her words, pulling her closer. “Fuck, bite me…” she begged, precum leaking more and more as he neared the edge. “Bite me, baby, please…” she didn’t have to plead for it, your lips quickly latching to her neck before your teeth sunk into her flesh, fresh blood filling your mouth, what worked the two of you closer to your respective highs. “Shit, I’m cumming!” and with that she came on your cunt, painting your clit and slick folds of the purest white, the feeling making you reach your third orgasm in a row, making your thighs shake and your stomach turn. You whimpered on her neck, her blood spilling and painting your chest and tits.

She continued to thrust against you to help the two of you ride your orgasms as she leaned down and latched to your chest, tongue darting out to lick her own blood out of you skin, what made you cry out.

As you came down from your respective highs, the two of you stayed like that for a couple of minutes, trying to calm yourselves down from the mind-blowing and best sex you had ever have in your lives. You shivered when she pulled away, your combined warm loads dribbling from your folds and onto the mattress, her blown out eyes taking the sight of your shaky legs and twitching entrance with a starving gaze. “Shit baby, you did so good for me.” she muttered, biting down on her bottom lip.“Fuck, look at that…” she sighed and a whine left your lips when two of her fingers pushed it all inside, slowly pumping her cum in and out of you with a squelch.

“Ellie!” you tried and push her away, your hands grabbing at her wrists. But soon enough you were a moaning mess, rocking your hips against her fingers, giving in, the overstimulation moving from pain to pleasure. She only smirked, lowering herself ‘till her lips were only inches away from your neck, making you shiver, the contact making your skin grow in goosebumps.

She chuckled at your reaction, her blood staining her white teeth and lips in a malicious smile.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart… I don’t bite.”

@fleshunger 💋🧛‍♀️

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motherofagony · 5 months

Text

FIRE WALK - one shot

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: au, no outbreak!joel x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+, minors dni word count: 6.5k summary: a chance encounter at a motel has you crossing paths with a stranger in a blue t-shirt. content warnings + tags: age gap (we'll say 15-20 years), very brief references to past non-con encounters (not with joel, no details just shitty men in general), soft!joel, alcohol, mentions of family trauma and ab*se, unprotected piv, fingering, oral (f + m receiving), A Scene With a Belt™, slight mentions of reader's clothing but no physical descriptions otherwise, love as consumption and women as fruit a/n: this was a brain-worm of a one shot, so i had to press pause on AHFE and get it out. consider it a dirty love letter to strangers with stories in shitty motels. and i have to give the biggest thank-you to @iamskyereads for stepping in and offering to be my beta reader in the final hour. she was so unbelievably thorough and thoughtful and kind. i owe you big.

New-age boogeymen hang two-way mirrors and jiggle motel door handles with broken hangers.

That’s what the news says.

August licks an unforgiving line of heat up your back, and cutoff denim and halter tops do nothing but give the sun more skin to burn.

It’s sweltering, brutal as an Arizona summer is, and The Palms Motel promises a pool and a mini bar on their dirty marquee. You’ll take what you can get, can’t really afford to be picky with fifty dollars in your pocket, but at least maybe you’ll live like royalty tonight.

Some guy you met — Tom, Tim, Jim, whoever — pulls his convertible up to the front office. Your knees knock together over the speed bump, cartilage kissing bone.

It’s the closest you’ve ever come close to a chauffeur, but the chauffeur you see in movies doesn’t usually take liberties with trying to work his grease-speckled mechanic hand up the passenger’s shirt.

You met him at a gas station in Tucson, thumbing your way from northern Texas to put as much distance between you and your whiskey-breathed dad as you could. He’d torn your clothes apart at the seams with his eyes when he spotted you in the parking lot, swimming in blood-infested waters with sharp, sharp teeth.

There was no plan, no directions penned and cities circled on a folded map, just glass in your hair and a final straw.

He asked if you could buy him some booze — revoked license, baby, y’know how that goes — and you shouldn’t have, but when he flashed a leather wallet thick with cash, you knew you’d be stupid not to.

You hid behind a shelf inside the gas station while he idled in the parking lot and plucked a fifty from the wad, stuffing it deep in your bag. You grabbed some shitty malt-something from a fridge along with a 6-pack, flashing the slack-jawed cashier a wink.

He didn’t try to hide the eye contact with your tits, but neither do most men. Sometimes you milk it in your favor, sometimes it just makes your lunch rise to the back of your throat.

And when you’re by yourself, it’s hot iron, ready to strike. A doe in their headlights, a buck with a nice rack. Skipping through the center of their bullseye.

You bought a little palm-sized bottle for yourself and tucked it safely next to the stolen cash in the abyss of your purse. These tiny cons got you by, made power surge deep in your belly. It made loneliness feel worth it, knowing you had an upper hand to lean on if you were ever in a bind.

He bitched about inflation when you came out with less than was reasonable for the amount you spent, and you just shrugged. Not your cash, not your problem.

You bartered for a ride to the nearest motel, and now Tom-Tim-Jim is asking you over the purr of the engine if you need company for the night.

If you were feeling a little more you, you might’ve taken him up on it. Maybe he would’ve even paid for the room, maybe he wouldn’t get angry like your dad does. Maybe he’d be able to fuck you without hitting you.

You’re good at diffusing the temper in most men, can touch them in ways that make them grit their teeth, can be a good girl and go fetch.

But you’re not in the mood to bend, to give someone’s son — someone’s husband with a tan line around their ring finger — a place to wipe their shoes on. You don’t feel like wiping their dirt, your mascara from your eyes and saying thank you while they zip up their pants.

And you sure as fuck don’t fancy being on a milk carton.

“I’m alright, sugar. Thanks for the ride,” you say, dipping your chin to peer over your sunglasses. “I know where to find you, don’t worry.”

Yeah fuckin’ right.

He doesn’t try to conceal his disappointment, just sucks his teeth and squeezes at the exposed skin of your thigh. His way of saying goodbye to something he could’ve dripped sweat on, came in too early. You think your flesh might rot off in chunks.

You open the door and swing your legs out in a way that’s a little too eager.

Tom-Tim-Jim waves solemnly with two fingers up and two bent, and then he’s gone in an aggressive rev.

The motel might’ve been a kitschy dream in its heyday. It’s not a total dump; more of a vintage skeleton of washed-out pink and umbrellas that’ve been ripped by weather and overuse. There are a million faded emblems of cartoonish palm trees. It’s almost endearing how tragic it is.

You can tell that it was popular and swarming with tourists at one time — there are dusty, water-stained pamphlets lining the wall next to the front desk that brag Named one of Arizona’s top destinations in 1996!

A mounted fan whirs and oscillates, but it might as well be someone blowing hot breath down your neck.

There’s a tired woman holding down the fort at the desk with a name tag that claims Brenda, and she looks surprised to see you. You figure most customers are stopping in for a night’s rest on the way to somewhere more important, their final destination. But you don’t look like you have anywhere better to be.

“Hey, honey,” Brenda trickles, laced with an accent that’s more New Orleans than Arizona. “Need a room?”

“Yeah, just for the night,” you say, fishing out your wallet with confidence that doesn’t meet your eyes. “How much?”

“Forty-five a night, ‘less you wanna upgrade to the honeymoon suite.” She looks somewhere over your shoulder.

That’s nearly everything you have, but it sounds a lot like tomorrow’s problem. At least you’ll be safe tonight from the prowling stares of nighttime predators, and the leftover change will give you a decent vending machine dinner.

“Just a normal room’s fine,” you smile, sliding over the crumpled, stolen fifty.

Brenda types busily on the keyboard, asking for your name but nothing else. And when she hands you a plastic keycard, you finally relax your shoulders. Untangle the nerves in your lower back that are choking one another.

Room 17, it reads. Your oasis awaits!

You thank her, spin on your heel, and immediately bump chest to chest with something hard.

You’re eye level with a worn, cornflower blue t-shirt, ringed with a light stain of sweat at the collar. They’re grasping both of your arms to steady you, and you’re snagging the gaze of a tousled man with a bag slung over his shoulder.

“Watch where you’re goin’,” he murmurs, but it isn’t reprimanding or mean like you’re used to, just sickly sweet and Texan. Syrupy in a way that drips right down between your legs.

You don’t remember seeing anyone else in the lot when you’d pulled up. And the stealth of him entering soundlessly behind you sends a jolt of electricity up your spine, the clench of something that would be fear if it were any other stranger.

But he doesn’t look at you with intent to devour or to claim. Just eyes you like you’re anyone else. An equal. The bare minimum, but rare and shiny nonetheless.

“Sorry,” you breathe, and he’s releasing you a little too quickly for your liking. Leaving brands on the creases of where your forearms meet upper and elbow.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

So you don’t.

You brush past him on the way out, a polite nod. And that’s that.

The heat is the kind that feels hotter, unbearable when paired with the shrill sing of cicadas. An endless buzzing that you think might be the sun sizzling on the concrete. If you stood in one place for too long, your flip flops might very well melt you in place.

Your room key clicks to unlock Room 17, and you push the door open to a heavy, humid space that smells vaguely of mold. You’re so grateful for the privacy that you can’t even bring yourself to wrinkle your nose.

Flip flops discarded, your toes sink into shag carpet — a dirty luxury that makes you moan. It’s only been two days since you left home, fled home, but it beats sleeping with one eye open on a bus stop bench.

You up-end your leather bag, dumping all of its contents onto the bed. Cigarettes, some loose film canisters, your toothbrush, a lighter. There wasn’t much time to pack, nothing worth bringing, and the less, the better. Nothing to weigh you down if you had to dip at a moment’s notice.

It takes you only a couple minutes and a light sheen of sweat to realize that the A/C is busted. Smothered, you try to crack open a window in the bathroom, but it’s no cooler than the hell you’re standing in.

When you let Brenda know, she just shrugs with an apologetic kind of half-smile.

“Most of ‘em are out these days, honey,” she says, and you decide then that it’s a small price to pay. “We got someone comin’ to look at it next week.”

You shoot her a smile, figure that she’s had enough rotten backtalk in her day. You scoop a set of flamingo-themed matches from the bowl on the counter and turn around, only to see a familiar blue shirt waiting his turn.

His eyes try not to roam, but he’s giving you a nod and stepping up without hesitation, asking Brenda for extra towels.

The way that she titters and blushes, you’d think he’d asked if he could spit in her mouth.

It irritates you, and you can’t say why.

The door chimes behind you as it closes, and you linger, striking a match and lighting a cigarette. When he emerges, a stack of towels so high it’s hitting his chin, you step in stride on the walk back. Tracing his footsteps, catching up with his shadow.

“You followin’ me?” you quip, a cigarette dangling from your mouth. The cherry ignites on every breath, smoke erupting in tendrils that hug each word.

He answers with a laugh, turns and squints back at you with one eye. Almost as if he was expecting you to ask.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart? Could say the same to you.”

You stop in front of 17, hand over your brow to shield from the sun that’s winding its way down, getting ready to tuck itself in for the night. There’s nothing that touches your tongue that doesn’t sound exactly like a fuck yes. So you don’t say anything.

“Enjoy your sauna,” he chuckles over his shoulder, passing you with his towels on the way to Room 20.

—

Led Zeppelin filters out through the radio, half-static, half-electric. Your legs are crossed in the air behind you, and you’re posted up face down on the bed, kicking along to the beat while you flip through whatever Cosmopolitan someone left behind in a drawer.

Someone raps a few times on the door, and if it’s a repairman, they’re getting their fucking dick sucked.

You army-roll off the flowery duvet, abandoning a how-to on finding your g-spot, and you peer through the peephole.

Your breath hitches on a soft swear.

When you open the door, you see Blue T-Shirt standing there, skin creasing around his eyes slyly. An unopened beer hangs and swings from his restless fingers. He offers it up wordlessly, the butt of it pointed at you.

It’s ice-cold and slippery to the touch, erupting goosebumps on your forearm. Saliva coats your tongue, and you don’t think it’s the thirst for alcohol, but maybe the tall drink of water.

“Um… thanks?”

“Figured you’d either be dead by now or parched,” he says smugly, and it’s velvet to your ears.

“Oh. Yeah, thanks. I got the fan to work at least,” you mutter, jerking your thumb vaguely behind you.

“Listen, uh —”

He’s rubbing the nape of his neck, and you catch the way the network of muscles flex from his elbow to the seam of his armpit. He looks like he’s in pain, struggling with the fit of a puzzle piece into something rough and jagged.

Something he shouldn’t be trying but has to see it through, exhaust it until it’s definite one way or the other.

You just squint, sucking in the corner of your lip between your teeth. You nearly grin, but it’s much more fun to watch than to connect the dots for him.

“A/C works in my room, so ‘f you wanted to… y’know,” he trails off, not even sure in his own offer. “No pressure. It’s hot as hell outside, don’t want you t’get heat stroke ‘f I can help it.”

This kind of approval you like. This kind that sizzles girl-honey between your legs, winning it from a man that’s playing to earn, not to cheat.

“I try not to make a habit out of going into motel rooms of guys I don’t know the names of,” you harp sweetly. But it might as well be a done-deal.

“D’you make a habit outta accepting beers from ‘em?”

You smile. Typically, yes.

“Joel.”

His hand shoots out, strong and suggestive. Fingers like alligator teeth that’ll grip you, hold you under until you thrash.

And you pluck your cigarettes and gifted liquor bottle from the bed, arms full when you carry them down to Joel’s room.

—

You’re sprawled on the full-size bed next to his, head propped up on hand propped up on elbow.

You’ve been trading your little fist of bourbon back and forth, swapping stories in the same way. Somehow, you fall into it easy like old friends, and it’s nice to follow someone’s lead instead of keeping one step, three, seven steps ahead. Arm outstretched to the door knob, feet ready to break into a run at the change in tone, blackening of pupils.

Without meaning to, you’ve wordlessly agreed that the person in possession of the bottle has the proverbial mic, and they swig to help with details and theatrics. It’s counter-productive in flow, but it makes you laugh when Joel exaggerates the story he’s telling on purpose, reaching out to pass it back and suddenly yanking it back, remembering a shade of gray or a funny expression.

Your knuckles keep zapping each other, brushing a little longer than the time before. There’s no numbness to consensual touch.

Joel’s mid-40s. From Texas, like you. He came to visit his daughter Sarah at college, says she’s growin’ up too fast, doesn’t need her old man anymore. It’s a thrill to see someone talk about their own flesh with love, admiration for who she is and who she’s becoming. You find yourself leaning in, enraptured that there are no IOUs or fine-print that you know to come with a parent’s love.

Mentions of his stubborn brother Tommy who he works with and who just can’t stop getting into trouble. The unspoken guilt that maybe he could be the one to keep him out of jail if he tried harder. It doesn’t work that way, and you tell him so.

You tell him about your dad when he asks about your life, your story, and you don’t know why you do but maybe you know exactly why. No one ever gets close enough to ask, so it comes leaking out of the corners of your mouth.

You’ve never told anyone, not even your diary, not even the guidance counselor who slipped a note to your fifth grade teacher and pulled you out of class. Shaky fingers, shaky limbs when they asked if they could roll up your sleeves just to see and you said no.

Crying because you knew your dad wouldn’t let you go back. Not to school, not to your friends.

You omit the nitty-gritty details, but Joel gets the gist. Swigs his share of the liquor a little too angrily with tight lips. Not like your dad does, but you don’t miss the irony of it all.

He holds anger for you, on behalf of you. It simmers as he listens to you in patient silence, coming to a boil at the bad parts when he gets up and starts walking lines in the shitty carpet. Pretending to look outside in interest at his truck parked at the end of the lot, but gripping the curtains until you can see every expanse of bone in his hand.

You don’t need this from him. It’s a hurt you’ve wedged between the pages of a book and doused in flames of acceptance long ago. But it spreads from your toes to your ears, the burn of someone feeling like this. For someone like you.

He finally settles down in an armchair by the window, a funny corduroy thing that would probably light up under a blacklight on one of those crime shows. Legs parted, a warm stare on the way you take up space on the bed. Facing him comfortably, your vision buzzing around the edges. A loose smile shared as if this room was meant for the two of you all along.

“So, what’s your plan?” Joel’s humming, his words getting lost in an echo of the bottle neck.

You don’t have one. Can’t have one when you have nowhere to go but gone.

It stretches on and on between you — a mouth opened and closed too many times on possibilities. If you admit to it, you end up with pity or an upper hand dealt to a stranger. You can’t afford to owe anyone a favor, nor can you front the cost of needing one.

But you’re so tired.

“Dunno. I’ll figure it out.”

“You got enough time for that?”

And you know what he means. Enough time in the motel, enough time before you’re a thief at wit’s end, doing anything for survival. He doesn’t need to ask to know you don’t have a destination, some relative waiting for you in a California dream.

You’ve excused yourself to the bathroom, soft radio bleeding in under the door, arms braced on the sink, all glossy eyes.

You want him, bad. But he won’t make the first move, won’t take advantage of what isn’t his and what others before him took without asking. You’re a pawn, entitled to the first move. The rejection would kill you, but not knowing would be worse.

He could hold you soft, give you something to think about when tomorrow rips you both in opposite directions.

When you pull open the door, Joel’s frozen in mid-stride towards you, like he’s just made up his mind about something.

He straightens but he’s still. Afraid of moving too fast, saying too much, scaring you into flight. Out of the unlocked cage of his room — something he did on purpose, because he doesn’t expect anything from you and wants you to know he doesn’t.

You meet him in his dusty shag quicksand. You take his wrist in your hand, kiss the thrum of life in the dip where veins meet palm. An offering.

Joel looks like he’s in pain, like what you’re doing is excruciating and thorny. The front of his jeans strains. He’s searching you for any hesitation, any obligation because he did something kind. He knows what currency you feel the need to pay in, and this isn’t that.

“Please,” you whisper simply. And he nods, accepting, succumbing.

There’s a careful meeting of lips, wanting to do it the right way, in the right order. When you push your tongue in, used to the pace of animals, he just holds your face and slows you down. It’s languid, his mouth showing you what sweet and gentle can taste like. Your tongues take their time, and your hands slip beneath the hem of his shirt, all ribbed muscle with a sprinkling of hair.

He shudders against the lightness of your feather-fingers.

Joel’s hands are peeling your shirt off, his thumbs resting to press against pillowy hips. He’s not letting your lips go, something like impatience stirring in you.

Doesn’t he want to fuck you hard? Fuck you fast and selfish?

Isn’t there a catch?

He’s taking his shirt off now, up and over. Carved by Michaelangelo, thrown up on a ceiling in a library book you read once. You’re touching him in reverence, but not letting yourself learn too much of him.

His eyes are molten. Joel walks you back to the edge of the bed, scratchy quilt tickling your thighs when you fall back on it. You start to pose yourself, angles that make you look more desirable, pliable. But he’s not paying attention to that, just unbuttoning your shorts, kissing the jut of every curve and permeating down to the bone, punching out a soft groan when he slides the denim off and sees the shining ambrosia that’s waiting.

He’s kneeling, tugging you down to meet his waiting mouth. And you’re just breathless, flinching when he pulls you apart, guiding your legs over his shoulders and wasting no time devouring you. Your legs, his bib.

Joel’s tongue flicks through the shell of you, teasing you in alternates of quick and slow, starving and full. It feels like a slice of heaven.

You pitch out a tangled gasp, hands instinctively moving to knot in his hair. Anything to hold onto, a different kind of grounding.

“So wet f’me,” he vibrates lowly into you, all husk. “Taste so fuckin’ sweet.”

He sinks a middle finger into you, and you’re keening, hips canting and unable to stay glued to the mattress. You feel him smile against your cunt, just pressing his forearm across your lower half to keep you still.

Joel’s twisting and working into you, onto you, and you’re so fucking close from just this — a tiptoeing to the edge that grows longer, more erratic in stride. He sucks your clit — pulsing sensitive, so swollen — into his mouth and grazes it with the tip of his tongue just so. Baring his incisors and closing around you in a delicious scrape like a Venus flytrap taking its meal.

You think you see God behind the flutter of your eyes.

You’re close enough to warn him, to rasp it out in the symphony of moans. His free hand reaches up to roll your peaked nipple between his forefinger and thumb, and he stretches you with an added ring finger. You’re writhing. Possessed.

He’s watching you through thick lashes. Letting your heels dig into his shoulders as the drenched sounds of you fill the room.

“Joel, please — I’m gonna —”

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he just murmurs.

You feel that little pull at your navel.

And you’re tipping in a freefall, seeing stars. You clench down around his fingers, fingers that are still pumping against that spongy spot deep inside you. Your arousal gushes, wet and sticky against the scrape of his beard. He laps you up, the sight making heat creep up your chest and wrap around your neck.

When he lifts his head, he’s high on it. Pupils dilated like tiny, round moons. Your orgasm glistens on him, smeared over lips and chin. The fur of a peach peeled back far enough to sink teeth into.

It’s fucking filthy.

Joel places open-mouthed kisses from your hip up to the center of your breasts, a trail of your orgasm shiny on your skin in perfect, sloppy Os. His breath meets your throat where he nips at you, and you don’t have time to drag in a breath before you’re tasting the saltiness of yourself on his tongue.

Your fingers fumble on his belt, practiced with years of releasing the tension on the metal prongs, the slithering sound whooshing from the loops of pants. You’re good at it, like you used to be good at gymnastics until your mom stopped getting out of bed to drive you.

There was always a little gold for contorting your body.

He detaches from you unwillingly, putting all of his weight on his knees and shins as he straddles the space of your thighs.

You’re pulling yourself up in a sitting position, pushing denim and boxers down past his hips. Letting his cock spring free, the head a dark pink and beaded with precum. You swipe the flat of your tongue against it, peeking up at him while you soak up the taste of it.

When you push the length of him into your mouth, ridged hard with veins, Joel tips his head back, chin to the ceiling. He groans something brutish yet helpless, cradling the back of your head. You’re seated in the driver’s seat, all control.

It’s new, different.

But then he’s moving his hips back, pulling himself from your mouth, wiping the saliva from your chin with a steady thumb.

“Don’t need t’do that,” Joel whispers hoarsely. “Not ‘f you don’t want to.”

Confused, you knit your brows. He laughs darkly, shaking his head.

“Didn’t mean it like that, it’s — it feels fuckin’ good,” he says, awestruck. “Would just rather make you feel good instead.”

Oh.

He doesn’t wait for an answer or a negotiation. The rest of his clothes pool on the floor in a pile, and he’s climbing back over you, an anchor or a buoy in a storm.

He lines himself up at the seam of you, puffy and so wet from before, nudging the tip of his cock at your warm center. A thumb coaxing the bud at the apex of you in lazy circles.

Joel’s sliding in slowly by each inch, filling you full until there’s nothing left and his patch of hair prickles the pearl of your clit. All you can do is whine and tense around him.

He’s resting tentative hands on either side of your face, indenting the weak mattress with handprints. He groans, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t give in when you try to rock against him.

“This alright?”

You’ve forgotten how to do anything, hoping that digging your fingertips into his forearms is communication enough.

“I’m gonna need a yes, baby.”

You feel around in the dark for the tether back to your body, and it jerks you like a marionette, giving him a nod.

“Yes. Fuck.”

That’s enough. He’s rewarding you with a roll of his hips, and you feel like you’re on fire. It’s a stuttering, painfully slow pace at first, his mouth so close to your ear that every grunt is amplified. But it evolves into something eager, unsatiated, snapping up into you with a relentless sort of fucking.

He’s hitting that place so deep within you, letting you unravel and grow hoarse from the moans tearing their way up your throat. That pressure is roiling, the kind that you get only when you touch yourself but intensified by a million.

It just feels so right, because there’s nothing to prove.

You’re ships passing in the night, strangers making a pit-stop on the way to nowhere. There’s no backstory, no history to make mention of. No shame in the morning when he inevitably rolls over and pretends to be asleep, and you scrub off the smell of him with your provided travel-size shampoo.

It’s not love, but it might be the closest you ever get.

The glow of him above you, a deity with his face screwed in agony. Chasing after you when he feels the tightening of your cunt, the easy glide of every thrust that tells him you’re close.

Then, you’re snapping like a rubber band. Gushing in a dripping mess that trickles to where your ass meets thigh. Crying without tears, overstimulated but blissful. Joel is quick to follow, like he’s been waiting his turn.

He’s trembling, emptying inside you in a warm flood. Groaning low and beautiful, gripping your hips to keep you flush to him.

When pulls out, tearing himself away, he’s slinging an arm over his eyes on the pillow beside yours. One hand on your leg to make sure you don’t go anywhere.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him mutter.

At some point you drift off, his arm draped over you. You open a bleary eye to a neon 2:49AM that casts a halo over the nightstand. Joel’s tucked you in, the thin duvet snug up to your shoulder. He’s not snoring but not not snoring, just breath getting caught in his throat in a satisfied, well-spent way.

It’s all too much, too pure to be real.

Before you let yourself change your mind, you slink out from under the warmth of your generous stranger. You step in your shorts one foot at a time, tugging them up gelatin legs too springy from coiling and uncoiling.

You promise yourself that you’ll take just one mental picture as a keepsake, and it’s this. A sleepy Joel who will be well on his way to a second cup of coffee on the way out of Arizona, maybe even nursing a little headache behind his right eye. And he’ll remember an apparition of some girl he fucked in a motel. The touristy thing to do, a sight to see.

He might even tell Tommy, say you were a crazy little thing with too much baggage, but it was fun to stay up past his bedtime.

You don’t mean to do it, really you don’t, but you flip through his wallet that lays innocently on top of the TV.

If you take a little something, that’ll turn this into another one of your stories that you tell your kids born from a loveless marriage somewhere in the crevices of a future from now. It won’t pull on the tendons of your heart.

And it won’t mean anything. You won’t let it.

—

The next morning, there’s a soft knock at the door, and it’s probably housekeeping kicking you out for overstaying your welcome. Time to turn down the bed for the next lost soul. You imagine Joel’s long gone, hopped in his truck and back to a reality you’ll never meet him in.

Your fingers are slow to gather up your purse, and you’re shoving your toothbrush in from its place on the sink.

“I’ll be out in a second!” you yell in a voice that reeks of years of diner-flavored customer service.

More persistent knocking that borders on pounding. It shakes the chain in the deadbolt.

You’re yanking open the door, and there’s Joel, white shirt and jeans. And it isn’t that cushion of admiration from last night, no greeting with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

Just a wolf coming to claim his continental breakfast.

Fuck.

You try to shut the door, suddenly too ashamed of what you’ve done, and to someone undeserving. Someone that showed you kindness, empathy.

But his boot catches the door before it can close, and he’s inside, slicing through the space between you. It’s not quite anger, but it’s shadowy. Sardonic.

Your shoulder blades kiss the cheap wallpaper.

“You’re real funny, y’know that?” he starts, and he’s smiling but not really.

Shrinking small, so small that maybe you’ll disappear.

There’s a tick of silence. His thumb skates to your collarbone and then to the hollow at the base of your throat. He wants to squeeze but he doesn’t, his fingers wrapping loosely around the column to fix you there. Heat creeps up the back of your neck into your hairline.

The instinct to flinch bubbles up against your joints, but you can’t bring yourself to.

“Y’think you can fuck me,” he muses, disgustingly deadpan, “‘n steal from me.”

Dread weighs heavy like lead in your stomach. You can’t stop yourself from shaking your head, still playing dumb.

He bristles at that, thunderous. You both know it’s a lie; you’re a hundred dollars richer than you were last night. His fingers briefly flex around you in a way that you’ve seen before, and horror hits a fever pitch in you.

Tears prick your eyes, and you’re putting your palms on his chest and shoving, but he doesn’t give. Unstoppable force meets immovable object, and all that.

It’s not so much the blaring punctuation in a sentence, the ticking of dynamite ready to blow. He’s confronting you with proximity, with your own dishonesty. Wanting to shake you and tell you that it doesn’t have to be this way.

Joel just leans in closer, almost grazing noses. You try to breathe around the lump of panic.

“The hell’s the matter with you?”

It’s disbelief, it’s hurt. In the same way, it’s understanding, incredulous. It’s him stepping back and loosening the hold around your neck like no one’s ever done; it’s softening and imploring.

He’s shoving his hands in his pockets, guilty and recoiling. Sorry he could even make himself look like one of them — a forced penance in the flesh.

There’s no answer that can justify what you did. Nothing simple about nothing personal. But truly… that’s all it was. A pie wafting steam on an open windowsill. Something to make you feel better about the void he’d leave.

“‘F you needed money, you coulda just asked.”

He’s disappointed, desperate. In a tone that really says, I would’ve done anything you wanted.

A dam inside you gives, crumbling deep at the foundation and knocking the walls down around you. Words don’t come, but you shove your hand in blind into your bag, pulling out the loose bill and extending it.

Joel sees the regretful offering and your heart with x-ray vision. That you think of yourself as a doll, less valuable without her box. Used without tags. Free to a good home.

He shakes his head, the softness of a keep it barely peeking out of his mouth.

You’re skinning yourself raw, wanting another way out but having none. With half a mind to say that the next night could come with fangs.

You feel the stab of relief, and shame. So much shame.

Like a soothsayer, he foresees the coldness of a bench, the shrinking of you into the safety of an alley.

You drop to your knees in exaltation, thinking you know what’ll fix this. You can’t see through the watercolor blur of your tears, but you touch his belt with fingers that are cold to the tips.

But Joel knows what you’re doing, shaking his head no no no.

He won’t let you do it like this. He drags you up gently by the elbows. Pulls you into his chest, says stop stop stop. Kisses your hair, then your lips. You cry until he can taste the tears, until the front of his shirt is damp.

“I’m sorry,” you rasp out roughly. “I’m so sorry.”

He tells you to never say sorry to him again.

—

Joel pays for a room for two more nights, but only one — his with the working A/C.

You move your toothbrush and your bag over to Room 20.

You go to the pool, swimming laps around him in a tank top and your cherry-embroidered underwear, squealing and splashing in a flail when he swims underneath your legs and stands up to hold you on his tan shoulders.

Sunscreen streaks greasy on your stomach when you lay out together on the loungers after. Joel likes a cat-nap with his face under a towel, grumpy and tired from the sun. But he never snaps at you, never gets impatient when you ask too many questions while he’s dozing off.

You learn the pinched expression he makes just before he comes. That his right palm has hundreds of lines you can see best by lamplight. He misses the noise of Sarah in his house, of sharing the coffee pot with someone. He doesn’t like the small piling of toast crumbs left only by him on the kitchen table.

He learns that you apologize for wet, clean hair on his pillowcase, for laughing too loud. Things that don’t need a sorry. A collection of oversaturated manners that might take time to unlearn, but he promises to teach you.

He learns that you approach an orgasm with tentative toes in cold water, almost unbelieving that sex can give, give, give instead of take, take, take. He learns that you like the meeting of eyes when he’s buried between your legs, pushing your thighs apart to keep from suffocating. That when he does let you get on your knees for him, you know just the spot to caress with your tongue on the underside of his cock.

Joel’s belt is snaked under your stomach, across your hips, fists intertwined in the leather as he pulls you back, slams himself forward. It bites and creates indents in your flesh, and you don’t care. He gives you marks to love, to admire in your reflection, never ones that are ugly. Never ones out of hate over spilled milk.

There’s a dirty slap of skin, growing louder, competing with your moans. Your nails are tearing into the cheap sheets, and Joel’s so close but won’t come until he coaxes another out of you. A grand total of at least four by now, but you’ve lost count.

At long last, you splinter around him. Pitching off the cliff in a cry. Joel’s leaning — his chest, your back — and spilling deep, holding onto you for dear life. You hear him whimper in a strangle. Big, tough game that’s been taken down with an arrow in his chest.

Hot tears are flowing out of you, stuttering sobs close to follow, and Joel pulls out slowly. Seems to know why. And he rolls you over, into him, hand careful in slow strokes against your hair.

You’ve never been good at goodbyes. Maybe that’s what this is.

Men like to say that women like you are insane, too analytical, too tear-streaked, too conscious of the way they look when they sleep. Because waking up with your mouth open, a drying corner of drool threatening your cheek is too human, not pretty.

Sometimes women like you are dead, rotting pomegranate flesh. Long forgotten in decay on the ground when the weight became too heavy to hold yourself up. And those men pick up your seeds and shove them squelching back into places where they don’t fit.

The winters come bitter and harsh, but you’re always reborn in the spring. And without fail, you grow back fiercely into a tree reminiscent of Eden, low-hanging apples plucked and bruised and bitten into once and spit out in tart disgust.

Women like you choke men like this with your pits, strangle them with vines, poison them with berries. They can consume, but so can you.

But then, in the ripe, cool shade of summer, you’ll have a visitor like Joel that will come with a basket and a blanket and they’ll stay and read books beneath you. They’ll enjoy your fruit, you’ll drip from their mouth and dry tacky like flypaper, and they won’t be able to imagine a day before you.

They’ll collect all the pieces of you on a Tuesday morning and give you change to get a Coke after checkout. They’ll tuck you into the front seat of their truck, let you put your feet up on the dash, hand protective and calm on your thigh while the other steers you both back to Texas. A new home without shouting and bottles thrown.

And they’ll stay through every season.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #the last of us au #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #fire walk #my writing #joel miller one shot #motherofagony

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satocidal · 6 months

Text

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ Da Vinci in making — Gojo Satoru

Warnings: establish relationship; you have a kid together idk

Satoru who sits there with his shoulders shaking and lips bitten hard, as he tries to hold back his laughter.

“It’s a very pretty drawing honey,” you add weakly, your help not worth a dime as your son sighed in his dismay.

The both of you, Mr. and Mrs. (Or another Mr. If that’s what you prefer) Gojo lay in your bed, ready to call it a night when your son hopped into the room all so merrily—in his hands, hoisted his proud little drawing.

But that was the scene 5 minutes before the silly little disaster because as of now, Satoru sat their clutching a pillow to his face as he tried to hide his laughter in vain—“It’s ugly,” your child whined again, deflection plastered over his face.

“Oh baby it’s not- It’s, it’s really p-pretty baby,”

“Why’s dad laughing then?” The innocence in the words of the little boy panged nails of guilt at your heart for you too, struggled to manage your own laughter.

“That’s because,” you paused, it was a hideous drawing, “Because…because,” you stared at your husband, glaring at him—you knew he was aware of your annoyed gaze, “Because my son’s Da Vinci in making,” Satoru mumbled against the plush of the pillow.

And you wondered just how he managed Tsumiki and Megumi when he did—but then Megumi wasn’t exactly happy to be with Satoru anyways.

“Daddy’s an idiot and doesn’t understand the beauty of art,”

And just at that, Satoru cackled into the pillow louder— the annoying idiot, you groaned internally, “It’s alright sweetheart, just gotta practice more right? We- we can put it on the fridge if you want,” your suggestion did lighten his mood a slight.

“But daddy’s…” your son’s dismay confused your heart- torn apart you sat, “Daddy will get it framed if that’s what it takes baby,” you grumbled under your breath—pinching Satoru’s side as you did so, a squeal he let out at that.

Your son smiled softly at his father’s squeal—loving the sound, “You like it mommy?”

“Course’ I do honey,” and that was solace to your little son, who wobbled away—shooting his father the ultimate side eye when Satoru asked for a hug from him.

“You’re such an idiot,” you mumbled as the door closed behind him, huffing at your husband.

“You gotta admit babe,” Satoru grinned, “it was ugly,”

And you had to admit for what it was, a pretty ugly stick man for Satoru that he’d drawn—but surely, it was the thought and effort that counted.

“But alright, I’ll frame it for right above our bed so you can see sexy lil me when I fuck-”

“-Satoru!”

All of this work is entirely original and my own, please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

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argreion · 1 month

Text

Just a Deal

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — P in V, breeding kink/talk, mating press, cream pies, Leon being old and aching, talks of eating out/cunnilingus, talks of Advil (reader using the deal of Advil jokingly for sex). Leon wondering if he's mid.

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 1.5k

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆❜𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 — Well, this is my somewhat proud attempt to come back to writing smut. I want to write more, so... Yeah, there's that! I'd call this a valiant attempt, y'know? Breeding kink is yummy. Don't murder me if there's a mistake, I haven't written actual smut in so long. :')

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

“Just an idea.” You said, glancing over at the male with a small smirk. Talk of sex over dinner? Maybe you shouldn't have waited till he got home from a mission. Hearing the pop of his back and the pained groans miles away from the apartment. Yet, you have to make a deal sweeter; Advil. The baby he loved, would sing it to sleep if he could. Pop a few and it worked wonders on him.

“That idea is…” What does he respond with? Makes his dick hard? The idea of folding his lover? Tapping his fork against the ceramic—reminds you to scold him later for that. Fine china was getting harder to get, and you’d rather it not have scratches on it when it’s for sale. “I wouldn't mind doing it if you'd want me to. Sounds interesting, doll. Didn’t know you’d like me to ‘ruin your pussy like it’s your last day alive. To fuck your babies into you’.”

“Never say that out loud ever again, my soul left my body for a few seconds.” You sighed, hand already coming to rub your face. Cheeks were flush from the embarrassment of him being blunt. Someone above, please shut this man up.

“I’ll let you finish up here, ‘kay? Don’t keep me waiting too long, supercop.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Two hours later, dinner finished, and clothes are torn and flung away.

Forced into a mating press against your shared bed. Your legs loosely around his hips, moving with each thrust. Balls slapping against your ass as Leon pressed you deeper into the bed. Soft moans came from your lips at his pace. Curling up to hit your core in just the right places. Leaking more than you should’ve, silly little idea.

His hands came to hold your upper back, making your body flush against his. “What, thought you wanted this, doll? Wanted to be full of babies, right?” He taunted, wanting to rub it in your face. Rub it in your face that you weren't ready for him—weren’t ready for subpar dick. You’d thought he’d be slow, boring, but no, someone liked this idea. The idea of breeding had gotten to him. So much so that he manhandled you and did it himself.

“Mmmm, look at you, already willing to become a mama. Can’t wait to cream this pussy...” Leon leaned in, his lips brushing against your ears. “We aren’t wasting any drop either, doll. You know the rule. Call me a baker for making a cute little cream puff; gotta make sure she’s extra full.”

His chest rumbled as he felt you tighten around him. Attempting to milk him of his worth. He was doing something right. Wringing out moans from your lips left and right. Was doing something right with the way this was going.

“You like that, don't you?” He purred, letting his forehead fall to your shoulder. Sweating at the extortion of his aging body. Nipping at the skin, he quickened his pace. Little red marks litter your upper torso, shoulder-to-shoulder. “Didn’t know I had a whore in my apartment. Should’ve thought of this sooner.”

You moaned in response, the lewdity had you rolling. ‘Call me a baker for making a cute little cream puff; gotta make sure she’s extra full.' It was bad that your baby fever had already made you so… Aroused. Choose a mating press over anything else for merely that—breeding kink on an all-time high from that. Over the kitchen counter, on his motorcycle, in the car, anywhere. The thoughts running through your head made you clench, erupting a groan from Leon's lips.

“Seems my question is already answered—you are a whore. A cute one at that.”

Leon purred in delight, satisfied by your response. Hands moving from behind your back to beside your head. Engaging your head as he maneuvered himself comfortably so that he could get rougher. Force himself deeper, make him feel like he could do something.

Yet, when someone musters up all their strength; means they crash and fall harder—especially on their lover.

With each harsh thrust, Leon could feel himself being drained. His old age was catching up to him, as was the ache in his back. Beginning to bubble up from his lower back to the beginning of his spine. Arched over his love like a cat hissing in old-timey movies. Your fingers grasping at his back and legs tightening around him. Exposing your neck to the open-mouthed kissing he brought on you. Stubble brushing against your delicate skin, vulnerable to a quick hickey.

More moans came from your mouth as he buried himself inside you. Sent you spiraling with each slam of his hips. A cloudy ring started to form and leak down onto the bed. Needed this more often, needed to be manhandled.

“Almost there…” He panted after each word he spoke. You could feel pity in your chest as you watched him struggle. Stamina wasn’t his strong suit anymore, sadly. Reminds you of when he was better in his younger days. Twenty-seven and lasting two to four rounds.

Might buy an extra bottle of Advil, just for him.

In the back of his mind, he was cursing himself out for not being you to a climax. He knew worth wasn't purely based on orgasms or how experienced he was. Gosh darn it, though, made him feel horrible. Useless, or some other word Rebecca used that he couldn't remember.

Being brought out of his thoughts by the feeling of nails piercing his skin would leave a mark he’d have to explain at work. Your back arching into his chest surprised him—he had done it. Blue eyes widened as you seized in his grasp, mouth agape as you gushed around him. If he had only recorded this, he'd love every second of it. Imagining you sucking him in every way he could think possible. Oddly, brought a smile to his face, alongside the ego boost.

“That's it, let it out. I gotcha, pretty girl.” Leon whispered, rubbing your cheek as your eyes fluttered. One second they were squeezed shut, and now it felt like he was looking down at the prettiest girl in the world. That pleased look in your eyes made his balls tighten. His eyes fluttered, as his hips stuttered. Oh, fuck him.

“Go ahead and let that pussy cry more for me… So fuckin' gorgeous. Deserves this so badly.”

He'd already reached his peak, cumming inside your walls, panting heavily. Wish he lasted longer than this. Arms encircling your head as he pressed himself fully into you. The sweat from earlier now oozing from the bedsheets. Squeezing his eyes shut as he slowly emptied himself into you. Counting his blessings as you'd nag him to help change the bedsheets later.

The drive slowly faded into stillness. Finally resting inside you as he seemed to come down from the quick high. In some ways, it felt anticlimactic. An anticlimactic filling that leaked down onto the bedsheets. Cloudy ring, now a creamy white. Fresh new stain to add to the collection.

“I'm getting old, aren't I?” Leon asked himself out loud, trying to break the silence. It felt awkward, impregnated—something he didn't like. Too serious for his brain to handle.

“Maybe.” Was all you said, letting out a heavy sigh. “It's certainly getting old that you're laying on me now.”

“Forgot about that, sorry.”

You could feel the bed dripping beside you as he moved off. Letting himself curl up beside you, not wanting to waste a drop in you. Leon felt fragile for some reason, like a shivering old man in your head. Curled up beside his wife—crying, ‘cause he ain't got no one better. Maybe calling him an old man suited Leon now.

“I mean, that wasn't amazing.”

You paused; maybe you should've chosen your words more carefully. Leon was sensitive. Sex didn't feel amazing like it did in books or movies. Could women get post-nut clarity? Was that even a thing? Were you having that, or were you just not womaning? Maybe you should save yourself thinking for another time.

“But you do better than a lot of guys, at least. For a super awkward man, who crashes almost every vehicle he drives, and can't tie a tie, you did well. Mating press might be your forte in sex positions.”

A smile came to your lips, leaning over to kiss the tip of his nose. Pleasantries aside, he'd take it over you using a vibrator or dildo. Enjoyed watching it, but hated not being the one to do it. Ok, well, he's just picky in that regard. A bit of a bummer, wouldn't you think?

Well, there was something he wouldn't be bummed out about...

Leaning over, your noses barely touching as you asked the one important question on the tip of your tongue, “If I get you an extra bottle of Advil… Will you eat me out?”

The response couldn't get any better, as he smirked.

“If you get me ice cream, I will.”

“You've got cream right here, dumbass.”

The chuckle that left your lips felt sinister. Followed by a smirk as you straddled him. Hands pressed against the sheets as you rested mere inches above his face. Dripping down onto his dumbfounded face.

“Well? Get to it, lover boy.”

Oh, he loved this game again.

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 — @rigorwhoring

You're welcome to send an ask or DM to be on my tag list!

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut

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woso-dreamzzz · 22 days

Text

Surgery V

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You lose your lion

"Come on, Cub!" Mapi calls from the door," We're leaving!"

There's the familiar pitter-patter of your feet as you come running out of your room. You don't come straight to the door though, you run past to check the sofa cushions, pulling them up and throwing them back down.

"Cub!" Mapi calls again," We're going to be late."

"My løve (lion)!" You cry, turning around so Mapi can see just how distressed you are," It's gone! Mami, løve's gone!"

"What do you mean your lion's gone? Where's he gone?"

"I don't know!" You tug at your hair.

Most of the time, Ingrid's the one that does your hair, tying it back in a braid out of your face so it doesn't get in the way of your playing. It's loose right now though because Ingrid had gotten up late and Mapi was the one to get you ready.

You pull at the loose strands and Mapi has to gently pry your hands away.

"Hey," She says," What have I said? We must be nice to our bodies. Don't pull on your hair, please."

"Løve!"

"Cub, I'm sorry but we have to get going."

"Mami," You whine," Løve! I want løve!"

"Cub-"

The door opens.

Ingrid was waiting in the car, completely exhausted from her late night out with Frido and Aitana. She's got a to-go coffee in her hands and she rubs her eyes.

"Mapi? What's taking so long?"

"Mama!" You cry, running over and crashing into her legs," My løve is gone!"

Ingrid picks you up easily, balancing you on her hip as she surveys the destruction of the apartment.

Your bedroom door is still open and Ingrid can see where you've torn it all up looking for your lion toy. The pillows and cushions on the sofa have also been flung around the living room with no regard as you desperately looked for your toy.

"I'm sorry, cub," Ingrid says," We really need to go. We can look for him later."

You go completely limp and boneless in Ingrid's arms, trying to get her to release you so you can go back to searching but she's got a tight grip and soon you're strapped into your car seat and Mami is driving you all to training.

That's when you regain your movement again, brutally kicking the back of Ingrid's seat as you scream and cry for your løve.

He's your extra special baby toy that you got when you were baby. He's your most favourite toy in the world because he's a little lion like you are. Even your wild hair matches his mane.

Mami doesn't let you take Bagheera to training so your løve is a nice substitute but you couldn't find him when you woke up this morning. You can't even remember if you went to sleep with him last night.

"Cub," Ingrid says sternly," If you kick my seat one more time then you're going on timeout when we get to training."

You want to kick the seat again to prove a point but Ingrid is the boss in and out of the house and you don't want her to be angry at you.

"Want my løve!" You cry instead.

Your hair is still loose so you keep tugging at it even though it makes the top of your head hurt a little bit. You want your lion and you don't know what else to do now that you can't kick Ingrid's seat.

"Hey," Mami says as she glances at you through the rearview mirror," Cub, stop that. You're not being very kind to your body right now. It looks like that's hurting."

"Don't care!" You shriek.

"Well, I care. You not being nice to your body is making me sad. It makes me very upset. Can you please be nice to yourself?"

"Want løve!"

"I know," Mami says," It's just a little longer to training. Do you think you can be nice to yourself until then?"

You stop pulling your hair as tears stream down your face.

You stop kicking Ingrid's seat and you stop being mean to your body but you don't stop crying. You can't stop crying, not without your løve and Mami and Ingrid holding you.

They can't hold you in the car even if they want to so you're left to cry and scream in the backseat as Mapi finally parks the car.

Both of them are out quickly and Ingrid's the one to finally lift you into her arms, Mapi gently rubbing your back as you sob.

"I lost my løve!" You cry.

"You didn't lose him," Mapi says," Don't worry. We'll find him. He'll be at home somewhere."

"Came back from seeing Tia Leila day before yesterday," You whimper," Coulda left løve on the plane!" The thought makes you sob harder. "Didn't mean to!"

"We'll find your løve," Ingrid assures you," You haven't lost him."

Mapi is frantic as she runs ahead, just to warn everyone of what mood you're in so no one teases you or pushes you too far.

She skids into the locker room, mouth already open to word vomit everything that happened that morning but the words get stuck in her throat.

She points to Aitana. More specifically, what Aitana has in her hand.

"Cub's lion!"

"Yeah," Aitana says," She left it behind yesterday. I was meant to give it to Ingrid when we met up last night but I forgot. Here."

"Aitana, you're a lifesaver. She's been in tears all morning looking for him."

The door swings open and, true to Mapi's word, your face is tear streaked as Ingrid walks you in.

"Cub, look! Aitana found your lion!"

"My løve!" You say, reaching for it and burying your face in his fur as soon as you've got him in your grip.

"Hey," Ingrid jostle you," Say thank you to Tana."

"Thank you for finding my løve, Aitana."

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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dolldefiler · 22 days

Text

C/W: Gaslighting, rape

Remember that cute, depraved wife that I want? The one that’ll break down innocent girls with me into disgusting, broken fleshlights? I’m still craving her.

She’d invite our neighbour’s daughter over for supper, offering to help her out with homework or a college assignment. As she’d set down her bag, I’d follow her slutty body with my eyes. My wife would be excellent at choosing our next rapetoy. We’d seduce the naive little cunt on two legs with wines and conversations that turn adult very quickly.

“You’ve never had a boyfriend? Does that mean you’ve never even…?” My wife would ask, her hand stroking my cock beneath the table. The poor girl wouldn’t understand why my wife would be so agitated. Fresh fuckmeat. A sex toy that we’d break in ourselves and train into our exclusive set of holes. My wife would move to sit next to her, getting handsy very quickly.

“She’s got some perfect little titties, doesn’t she darling?” You’d ask, knowing I’d been eyeing her all evening. In response, I’d get up and sit by the girl’s other side, snaking my arm across the back of her shoulders. She’d suddenly be very aware of our presence. “No, no, no, sweetheart. You’re not going anywhere.” My wife would say, her smile turning wicked. To the girl, she’d look terrifying. To me, it’d simply be a signal for the beginning of our fun. I’d unzip my pants, fishing out my throbbing cock amidst the panicked gasps of our young friend.

“Suck it,” my wife would order, pushing the college fuckdoll’s lips onto my shaft. “Do you like that? Do you like that Daddy? Do you like her pretty mouth on your cock?” and I’d groan in response, pulling her in for a kiss. “You’re doing amazingly, sweetie,” I'd say. “Keep up the good work, baby!” Little bits of praise to keep her mind from exploding entirely.

My wife would let our victim breathe momentarily before pushing her back down. Until I was ready to break her in. To tear away her virginity.

“That’s a good girl. Just get on all fours like that. Perfect, now you don’t need to do anything.” I’d bury the girl’s face against my wife and slam my cock into her untouched fuckhole. She’d scream. Of course she would, the pathetic little fucksleeve. Still, I’d use a few gentle words to soothe her. To let her know she’d be alright but that I wouldn’t stop for her. That I’d rape her virginity tonight but that it’d feel amazing. My wife would layer her face with kisses and whisper soft assurances into her ear. It wouldn’t matter. I’d fuck her anyway. I’d stretch out her virgin cunt, pounding in and out of her while she writhes against my wife’s cunt.

How adorable, she’d look.

The innocent girl coming over to a trusted couple’s house for dinner only to have her world torn apart. I know my wife would cum at the thought. I’d hold her tight butt, and breed the little bitch. I’d pound myself in and out of her, milking out every last fucking drop of cum.

My wife would eagerly leap to eat my sticky jizz out her cunt, before spitting it into the confused, broken whore’s tired mouth. I’d jerk my cock off to the scene, getting ready for round two.

It’d be a long night.

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