#so might fuck around and let this anger consume me !

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ jealousy. ✦ 」

[Mattheo riddle × reader]

Summary : The night started perfectly: a party with music, friends, and Mattheo by my side. But everything shifts when Mattheo reappears, a dark fury clouding his features and a smear of blood on his face.

Words: 1k

Warning: angst , smut , fluff , unprotected sex .

The pulsing bass vibrated through the floorboards, the party a sensory assault of flashing lights, pounding music, and the excited shouts of our friends. But none of it registered as Mattheo shoved through the crowd, his face a mask of tightly controlled fury.

"Mattheo, what's wrong?" I blurted out, concern twisting my gut into knots. "Mattheo, are you okay?" I reached out, but instead of taking my hand, he grabbed it roughly, his grip sending a jolt through me.

Panic clawed at my throat , as I noticed the blood on his face The darkness in his eyes, the raw anger emanating from him - it was terrifyingly unfamiliar. "Baby, you scare me," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the din. "Did something happen?"

Still not answering me, he marched towards the bathroom, his movements focused and aggressive. He flung the door open with a bang, slamming it shut behind him with a sickening thud. The lock clicked into place.

Trapped in a silent bubble in the middle of the pulsating party, my heart hammered against my ribs.

"Baby please say something ?" I called out, my voice trembling. "What is going on?"but he doesn't answer His lips crash onto mine, and I find myself pinned against the wall, my back hitting it with a soft thud. I moan into the kiss, my body already responding to his touch.

"Shhh, do you want them to hear you y/n?" he murmurs, his lips brushing against mine. I shake my head, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Are you bleeding?" I couldn't help but ask, terrified that he might be in pain.

“ it’s not my blood “ he say and kissed me again not giving me a chance to respond, the kiss was rough, almost desperate, as if he needed to feel me against him, to reassure himself that I was real. I responded eagerly, my hands instinctively wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. Our bodies pressed together, the heat between us igniting a fire that seemed to consume us both.

His kisses became more demanding, his lips trailing along my jawline, down my neck, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. My breath hitched as he found that sensitive spot just below my ear, his teeth grazing my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his hands roaming my body, cupping my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, making them harden under his touch.

I let out a soft moan as he slid his hand down my body, his fingers tracing the outline of my panties. "So wet for me," he whispered, his fingers slipping underneath the fabric, finding my clit.

He rubbed slow circles over it, making me gasp. His other hand reached up, cupping my breast, his thumb flicking over my nipple. I arched my back, pressing myself closer to him.

His fingers moved lower, sliding inside me, curling up, hitting that spot that made me see stars. "Oh, Mattheo fuck," I moaned, my legs shaking.

He started moving his fingers faster, his thumb still working my clit. I was close, so close. But then he stopped, pulling his fingers out of me.

"No, don't stop Matt please ," I whimpered, but he just smirked.

"Bend over," he ordered, and I did as I was told, my hands bracing myself against the wall.

He hiked up my dress , pulling my panties down to my knees. I heard him spit, felt his cock rubbing against my entrance, slick with saliva.

"Mattheo," I moaned, pushing back against him.

"You want it, baby?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

"Yes, please," I begged.

He thrust into me, hard and fast, making me cry out. "You're so good for me, so fucking good around me, you feel so fucking good," he groaned, his hands gripping my hips.

He started moving, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. I could feel him hitting that spot inside me, over and over again.

I moaned, my legs shaking. "They were looking at you," he growled, his thrusts becoming erratic. "They will pay for it."

His dirty words only made me hotter, my orgasm building up inside me. "Please, Matt ,"

“you want to cum? beg “

"Mattheo. " I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“try again, love.” he said , his thrusts becoming harder, more demanding.

“ please,Matt”I cry out, my body shuddering, my muscles clenching around him.

“Such a good little girl , aren't you?”, his thrusts becoming wild, I could feel myself getting closer and closer, my legs shaking, my breath hitching.

"Cum for me, baby," he ordered, and I did, my orgasm exploding through me , He follows me, his release filling me, his body shuddering with pleasure .

I barely fainted in his arms, my legs too weak to hold me up. He pulled out of me, turning me around, his lips crashing onto mine.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his forehead pressing gently against mine. His warm breath tickled my skin as he spoke. "I just needed to have you, Was I too much? Did I hurt you "

I shook my head, pulling him into a tight hug. "No, you were perfect ," I whispered, planting a soft kiss on his temple. His arms enveloped me, holding me securely against him.

I looked up at him . "Can we go home? I don’t like this party ," I murmured, my eyes searching his.

"You know I would never say no to you," he replied with a warm smile before leaning down to give me one last kiss.

He helped me fix my dress, his touch gentle and caring. Taking my hand, he led me out of the bathroom and back into the party.

As we walked out, I noticed a boy who seemed to be injured and bleeding. I glanced up at Mattheo, and he simply remarked, "He should have kept his mouth shut." and in that moment, everything became clear to me.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheoriddle #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n

[absurdthirst]

Puppy Love {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 12.1k

Warnings: Mentions of pimping someone out, post apocalyptic morality, mentions of violence, guns, biting, infected, death, slapping, angst, anger, Joel being emotionally constipated, declarations of love, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, outdoors sex, pulling out, mentions of pregnancy/infertility

Comments: You always follow Joel Miller around, you've got his back. You're in love with him. Putting up with Tess's nickname of puppy dog, you don't realize that Joel feels for you until the end.

A/N: ~Contains spoilers for Episode 2~ Follows the episode along with some canon divergence.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Your eyes slide up and down the streets, daring anyone to come closer or ask questions as you clean against the crumbling brick facade and twist your head to look back at the two men huddled together about a hundred feet from where you are. You can’t hear what they’re saying but Joel looks even more pissed off than normal, even for Joel. 

“What?” Joel shakes his head in annoyance, knowing he’s being squeezed for cards. He doesn’t get charged that much for the entire hydro stash he gets from his seller. “No, no fucking battery is worth that much and you know it.” He growls, narrowing his eyes at the untrustworthy weasel in front of him. 

Robert’s eyes slide nervously around and he gives a small shrug, uncomfortable being around Joel and preferring to deal with Tess. “What can I say? Times are hard. It’s getting harder to come by these things.” His greedy eyes shift over to where you are looking out at the street. “Although….I’m sure we could work something out. I could cut the price in half if you, say, let me have your little pet there for the night.” He chuckles, referring to Tess’s mocking nickname for you. ‘Joel’s little puppy dog.’

Joel stares at the other man for a few seconds, just processing what he said, until it finally sinks in. “What the fuck did you just ask for?” He growls, low and quiet so you don’t hear. 

“You heard me, Miller. A night with your little lapdog over there. She’s gotta be good at sucking cock because you keep her around. Got a fucking harem started with her and Tess. Do you have one sit on your face and the other ride your cock?” Robert guesses, crossing his arms with a cocky smirk, “or do they take turns sucking your dick? Mmm if you guarantee me a blowjob, I’ll even throw in some extras.”

You tense slightly, shifting forward from your place leaning against the way. Eyes watching the way that Joel’s fist curls tight for a moment. Wishing that you could hear what the fuck they are saying,  but Joel told you to stay here, so that’s what you’re doing. “Joel?” You call out, getting his attention as he turns his head towards you. You’re wondering if you need to come over, knowing you will throw yourself into a fight for him if needed.

He shakes his head, holding his hand up towards you to stop you. He considers the guys offer, he can’t deny it. It would get him a hell of a lot closer to where he needs to be without having to do several burns for the cards. “No. She’s not available.” He finally says, not wanting to force you into something like that. He might be an evil bastard but he’s not a monster. “She’s not an option.” He decides, “you get more ration cards when we meet for me to collect it.”

“Come on man.” Robert shakes his head and his eyes slide past Joel to leer at you. “It’s just a fucking blowjob. I’ll tell you what?” He huffs, smirking and looking back at Joel. “Let me fuck her, both holes, have her suck my cock and I’ll give you the battery for free. Hell of a deal, right? I’ll even let you watch if you want to.”

Joel can’t help but reach up to squeeze the asshole’s throat. His anger makes him growl as he chokes the prick who dared to violate you like that. “You get the ration cards when I collect it or I can kill you now and get the battery for free? Hell of a deal, right? I’ll even let her watch me kill you.” Joel sasses, tilting his head as he watches his eyes practically bulge.

“Shit!” You leap forward but Joel just turns his head. 

“Stay there!” He orders harshly, making you stop in your tracks. Watching as Joel leans in and whispers something else to the disgusting little rat he was having to buy from to get the battery he needed. 

“No, no, it-it’s good!” You hear Robert choke out, gasping and sputtering when Joel lets him go. Clutching at his throat and coughing as Joel turns around and starts striding back toward you. 

“Let’s go.” He demands, his scowl even deeper than normal as you scramble to catch up with his long legged strides. You weren’t short but he’s speed walking. 

“What the fuck just happened?” You demand, wanting to know what the fuck is going on.

“Don’t worry about it.” Joel growls, body still vibrating with anger. He hates that you were a bargaining chip in this new world. Twenty years ago, it would’ve been illegal but anything goes in this new era, even the things the QZ deems illegal are turned a blind eye to. 

“Did you get the car battery?” You ask and Joel doesn’t look at you, knowing he’s barely holding on to the thread of decency he has when it comes to you. 

“No.” He says without further explanation, “he’s got to locate it.”

“Okay.” You think there is more to it, but he obviously doesn’t want to talk about it. You just walk along beside him, watching some of the people on the street part, giving Joel a wide berth. “So what do we do now?” You ask, unsure if he had other things to take care of.

“We keep low. You seen Tess? I ain’t seen her for a couple of days. Startin’ to get worried.” He frowns, guiding you down the alleyway that takes you back to his building. “I haven’t seen her.” 

You mimic his frown, both wondering where Tess is and hating that he’s so worried about her. It’s always been the two of them. You know they fuck, you know sometimes Tess will sneak into his bed, and you hate it, but you don’t hate Tess. She is capable of a lot in this world and you know she keeps Joel grounded, something you seem unable to do. 

“Let’s head to mine and then we will try to track her down.” Joel says, unaware that Tess is already waiting in his room, her face beaten up and sore.

You sigh softly, knowing that you will do whatever he wants. It’s dumb, but Joel had saved you when you arrived in the QZ, scared off some less than honorable people and you have been drawn to him ever since. It’s hard being in love with a man who doesn’t love you, doesn’t even look at you like a woman, but you are loyal to him. He claims he’s not a good man, and that’s true at times, but he’s good to you. “We’ll find her. I’m sure she’ll be in your arms tonight.” You mutter, hating how your stomach twists in jealousy.

Joel pretends to not hear you, knowing you and Tess have some tension going on between you but he ignores it. This life is rough enough without needing to fucking deal with women drama. He gets what he needs when he wants and that’s all that matters to him. He rolls his eyes and strides a little faster to get to his room. 

When he opens the door, Tess is sitting there with her face bruised and swollen and he’s ready to fucking kill whoever did that to her.

“Jesus.” You huff, eyes wide at her injuries. It’s on the tip of your tongue to make a snarky comment, but instead you watch Joel fuss over her and clean up the wounds with the bottle of alcohol sitting next to the sink. It would be touching if it didn’t break your heart. “What the fuck happened to you?” You ask finally as he’s dabbing at the corner of her mouth. You flop down on his sofa and glare at your feet.

Joel gently grips her chin as he cleans her up, his eyes burning into hers and he doesn’t hear your question, too busy making sure Tess is okay. Neither of them see the crestfallen look on your face until your scowl covers it. Tess sighs, gently pushing Joel’s hand away as she explains that she was held hostage by a couple of Robert’s goons. Joel hisses in annoyance, knowing he should’ve killed that asshole when he had the chance.

You hate how neither one of them includes you, feeling like an extra wheel. Dragging your feet off the coffee table you slap your hands on your thighs and stand. “Since she’s home, I guess I better do the same.” You want Joel to tell you to stay, but you know he won’t. Wondering why you put yourself through this torture when he only had eyes for Tess.

Joel wants to ask you to stay but he needs to talk to Tess about what happened. He needs to form a plan and you distract him. “See you later.” He tells you, not even looking your way and Tess offers you a slight smirk as she bids you goodbye. Joel tuts when you stomp out, slamming the door behind you. “Tess…” He murmurs, shaking his head. 

“What? She’s like a damn puppy dog hanging around you all the time.” 

Joel snorts, “what does that make you?”

Tess frowns for a moment before she leans forward. “You know what I am to you.” She challenges him, holding his gaze until he turns away. You have fucked everything up, everything was fine until you showed up and things changed. “Joel-“ She pauses, deciding against asking a question she doesn’t want to know the answer to, or at least have it confirmed. Instead she decides to change tactics. “We need to go find Robert and our battery.”

Joel nods, “we do. I’ll go find her and then we can get ahead. Get your shit together.” He orders, standing up and making his way out of the door to track you down. He needs you for backup and also, he is secretly amused at the way Tess frowns whenever you are mentioned. Tess is…Tess is a comfort to him, the woman who has seen him at his worst and still wants him. 

You are innocent really, still able to fight but you haven’t seen that side of him. He doesn’t want you to. He wants you to think of him as the closest version to the person he used to be. He misses that person sometimes, grieves him almost as much as he grieves Sarah. The small things he’d bitch about, like money or working late, are trivial compared to the issues he faces today. 

When he finds you, you are sulking in your room, “come on. I need you to help me and Tess track down Robert and his goons.”

Staring at him incredulously, you huff after a moment, bending down to pick up your boots. “You’ve got some fucking nerve, Miller.” You grumble, feeling like you are being taken advantage of right now. Joel doesn’t comment, just sends you a satisfied look as you put your boots on and turns towards the door. 

“Get your pack, we might need it.” He tells you before he walks out of your rooms like he owns the damn things. Your fault for letting him in, your fault for being so fucking in love with him that you let him walk all over you. 

“This is the last goddamn time.” You promise yourself, muttering angrily as you get ready. 

Joel doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrows as he listens outside. Both you and he know that’s not true. When you’re ready, he guides you down the alleyways to meet up with Tess. “Right. Let’s go get this fucker. I’m sick of his bullshit.” Joel huffs, making his way through the alleys to find the place Tess detailed when she told him where she was held.

“Awwww, you decided to come along, I’m so touched.” Tess coos mockingly when you reach her, making you grit your teeth and want to punch her in her good eye. 

“Well, someone has to clean up your mess.” You huff back. 

“Enough.” Joel growls, shaking his head at you before he turns to Tess with a pointed look. They did that a fucking lot, silently communicate like you weren’t fucking there.

Tess nods and Joel leads the way, entering the building with gun in hand and he creeps down the hall, using hand signals to gesture for you to walk or stop. He knows you and Tess have some fucking women issues between you but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t have time for that trivial shit.

It’s not the time to be snarky. Instead of dwelling on the issues, you focus on the task at hand. All you care about is keeping Joel safe. Tess by extension just because you know that he would be upset if something happened to her. She was his woman, not you. Your own gun in your hand, you flank his left side as you follow, eyes peeled for any danger. 

Joel is naturally anxious, keeping his eyes open and ears clear for any noises. When he spots the dead bodies of Robert and his goons, he doesn’t give a fuck. He wants to know who did that to them. When the door to his right suddenly opens, he doesn’t think. He just acts. Shoving the girl against the wall so she drops the knife and placing his foot on it, gun aimed at her. When Marlene appears, Joel narrows his eyes, listening as she begs him not to shoot.

Your fingers tense around your own weapon, aimed at the two fireflies in front of you. “What’s who he sold our battery to? The Che Guevara of Boston?” You roll your eyes at her humor but it’s true. Listening to her tell Joel that they need to take this girl to the state house to meet her group. “Bring your puppy with you too.” You hiss at that, pissed off that Tess’s fucking nickname for you has caught on. “I tried to recruit her, but she’s too loyal to you Joel.” 

Joel conceals the way his heart flutters at the news that you wanted to stay loyal to him. His face remains impassive and the girl tries to get her knife back while Marlene points out that she is bleeding and he needs to hurry up and decide. “Fine.” He grunts after Tess states her case.

Huffing, you shake your head. “You two have fun with that.” You know it’s a bad idea. This is bullshit and there are other places to get a battery. 

“You’re going with us.” Joel tells you sternly and you know that you will, if for anything but to watch his back. 

“We don’t need her. Joel. She’ll just be a liability.” Tess barely spares you a glance and that pisses you off more. 

“I’m going.” You hiss, glaring at her.

Joel doesn't need this catty bullshit, the girl is glaring at him and it's putting him on edge. "Fine. Get your shit kid, we are leaving." He orders the girl, Ellie, who goes to get her knife back with a scowl. When night falls, Joel guides the group through the old tunnel that he uses to smuggle things in and once you're outside the QZ, Ellie's eyes widen. 

"Holy shit." She gasps and a truck drives by. 

"Get down!" Joel hisses, forcing you to duck alongside Ellie.

“Jesus.” You hate being outside the QZ. Hate the risk and you know that it’s getting harder and harder every time. “We need to move. The fucking soldiers have been crawling around.” You murmur quietly, looking around and shivering slightly in the rain. 

Just as you get ready to move, the QZ guard who buys from Joel approaches you, gun raised. Joel doesn’t even think, surging forward to start pummeling the guy to death. He’s feral and there’s nothing any of you can do except watch him. Ellie watches with a fascination while Tess stares impassively.

“Joel.” You know the man is capable of violence, you’ve seen it, but this was unhinged. He turns back to look at the girl and you, the expression on his face is fierce and you shake your head after Tess shows him the red scanner. She’s infected. You listen to the hurried explanations and you know you need to have this conversation somewhere else. “We need to go.” You tell him, picking up the knife that the kid had stuck in the bastard’s leg and handing it back to her. You don’t know about her claim that she’s immune, but she deserves to be able to protect herself out here. “Take the rifle.”

  Ellie takes it and Joel is almost dazed as you walk through the debris and overgrowth to find shelter in the city. Once you’ve found where you usually stop, Joel slumps down in the chair, flexing his knuckles and hissing. Ellie looks exhausted and you tell her to get some sleep, you’re stopping here for the night. “She’s infected.” Joel grunts when she’s fast asleep, bringing yours and Tess’s eyes over to him.

“Her wound looked healed.” Of course it had been dark as shit, but bites from the infected never looked better. It’s always inflamed as the fungal infection spreads through the body, taking over. You glance at his knuckles, wishing that you had ice to put on it. “You should wrap it up.” You tell him.

Joel ignores you, just imagining what could’ve happened out there if that asshole had blabbed. You’d all be dead. Hung for treason or some bullshit like that. “I’m fine.” He finally answers and Tess looks over at him, “she’s right.” That Joel definitely ignores. He grunts, standing up, “I’ll take first watch. You two get some sleep. I’ll watch the girl.” He says, grabbing his rifle and ignoring the pain in his knuckles when he grips the handle.

You sigh, knowing it won’t make a damn bit of difference, but you find yourself a corner away from the door so you have time to react and lay your pack down. Using it as a pillow as you turn your back to Joel and Tess. You don’t want to see whatever else they do or talk about tonight, tired of being the third wheel and tired of feeling like you should just leave.

Joel keeps watch most of the night until Tess tells him to get half an hour. “Lazy bitch couldn’t even get up for a watch.” She scoffs at your sleeping form. 

Joel shakes his head at her, “she didn’t sleep the night before. Trying to help me out by keeping an ear out for the radio. Just - let it, okay?” Joel asks and Tess snorts, nodding her head. He sits down, closing his eyes but he never truly relaxes, just rests until the sun starts to rise. 

“What do we do with the girl?” Tess asks when he stands up, walking over to her. 

“Kill her.” Joel says, knowing that Marlene wouldn’t find out. He could lie and say she got infected for real this time. It’s not far from the truth. “We don’t know if she’s gonna turn.” He murmurs, keeping his eyes on the curled up ball in the middle of the room.

Grunting, you wake up with a jolt, used to the nightmares that plague your sleep. Everyone in the fucking horror reality has them, or they’ve never lived outside the QZ they were born in. Flipping over, you notice that Joel and Tess are already awake, both of them watching the girl. “Shoulda woke me.” You grumble, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes before you shuffle over towards Joel.

“You needed the sleep.” Joel murmurs, ignoring the scoff from Tess. “We should kill her.” Joel says with finality just as the girl wakes up, glancing around to see you sitting up and Joel sitting there with his rifle aimed towards her, anxious and tense as hell. “You make one wrong move and I’ll kill ya.” He promises, making Ellie scoff and pull her sleeve up. 

“I’m fine. No different than last night.”

You shift slightly, looking from Joel to Ellie. “Why didn’t she kill you?” You demand, asking about Marlene. Ellie explains about the daily testing and holds out her arm to show that it is perfectly steady. No tremor, which is normally the first sign of infection besides a bite. “Jesus.” You shake your head, unsure of what all of these means and look back towards Joel. It’s him she needs to convince. Or Tess rather because she can sway Joel’s opinion.

Joel considers not killing Ellie when Tess points out that it hasn’t spread. “Fine. Better get something to eat before we head out.” Joel says, sitting down, and he flexed his knuckles. 

“Broken?” Tess asks and he shrugs, “hairline. It will heal fast.” 

You frown at that but still get your jerky out of your pack. 

Ellie, meanwhile, pulls out a delicious looking sandwich and your eyes widen. “Is that chicken?” Tess asks and Ellie explains how Marlene got it from smugglers. Joel snorts, chewing on his jerky and trying to ignore the pain in his hand.

You hate that he is hurting, knowing that he can’t take anything that would help because it would make him slower to react. Instead of offering to take the gun, you open your pack and offer him the precious bottle of aspirin you have. It took a month of ration cards to get it, and you normally used it when your cramps would get too bad. “Here.” You offer quietly, “to help with the swelling.”

Joel takes the pill, knowing it’s aspirin and trusting you. He swallows it dry and makes the decision to head out. “Let’s go. We need to take advantage of the daylight.” He says, standing up to grab his pack and the rifle. Ellie scrambles to pack up her pack again and soon enough, you are heading outside with Tess keeping close to Joel.

“Do we want to take the long way or the short way?” Joel asks and it’s not your opinion he’s actually asking for. Tess snorts. 

“You mean the long way or sure to die way.” She corrects sarcastically, making Ellie’s eyes widen dramatically and you roll your own. You’ve been the short way and it’s fine as long as you pay attention. 

“I vote for the long way given the small amount of information available.” Ellie huffs, making you smirk. 

“The long way, fast.” You decide. “Sooner we get her to the state house, the sooner you have the truck you need to get to Tommy.” That’s what all this is about after all, getting to his brother.

Joel nods, agreeing with you. You, Tess, and the girl trail behind him. Joel hears Tess telling the kid about Boston and the wreck it is now, but he isn't really listening, too busy scanning the area for any threats: human or infected. 

He walks into the hotel and Ellie is amazed. "Wow. Did you guys ever stay somewhere like this?" She asks and Joel snorts while Tess says, "it was a bit out of our price range." You can't help but snort when Joel sasses the kid by hopping down onto the last step. 

"Come on." You urge her forward and she rambles on about the hotel. When she rings the bell, Joel rolls his eyes and you shrug, offering him a look of amusement.

Halfway through the lobby when Ellie screams, you turn around and rush back through the water, unsure if it’s a clicker. Relieved when Joel isn’t shouting and shooting, you find the decayed bones of an unfortunate bastard floating. He must have moved and scared the girl. You hum, watching as Joel offers her his hand, something that he wouldn’t have done if he didn’t somewhat believe her story about not being infected, so it bodes well for her. “Come on kid,” you offer, giving her a small smile. “Let’s go up to the rooms. We’ve got a hell of a climb.” 

Once you climb the ridiculous amount of stairs, Joel curses when he finds the exit has caved in. “Fuck.” He grunts. 

“I can fit through. Let me try and get through.” Tess says and Joel shakes his head, “we can go the short way.” 

Tess huffs, “we don’t have time. I’ll be fine.” She promises and starts to climb through the debris. You hover near Ellie, trying to ignore the way your heart pangs at their secret look, only between them. It makes you feel like you’re a thousand miles away from them. Ellie slumps down on the floor and Joel follows suit, looking over at you while Ellie starts to ask him questions.

You fiddle with your gun, trying not to feel like you are stuck in the middle of a Q&A that you don’t want to be at. Snickering to yourself when Ellie sasses back at Joel that she knows where Detroit is. Only to be surprised moments later when Joel actually knows where you are from. You had only told him once and assumed that he had forgotten or didn’t care enough. “So you and her are….” Joel’s entire body tenses. 

“Pass.” Of course he wouldn’t define their relationship, he doesn’t ever acknowledge things Tess says in front of you, but he doesn’t deny them either. 

Ellie huffs and turns her inquisitive eyes towards you. “So that means you and her are……” She trails off, trying to get either one of you to fill in the gaps. 

Joel grunts, “pass.” He doesn’t want to talk about you or Tess with Ellie. 

“Are you- is it like a throuple situation?” She guesses and Joel snorts, “nope.” 

You and Tess would kill each other before you fuck each other. “Absolutely not.” You wrinkle your nose at being with Tess. God, she gets under your skin but she is important to Joel. 

“Rightttt.” Ellie drawls just as there’s a thumping on the door. Joel stands up, gun in hand, anxious until Tess shouts her announcement that she’s back. Joel sighs slightly, relieved to see Tess, and he gestures for you and Ellie to get your shit.

Your stomach knots, knowing that the hardest part is coming up but there is something calming about the view from the terrace. Looking out over the ruins of the city that you had wished to have visited before all of the world went to shit. Tess pulls back the heavy plastic curtain so Ellie can get her first look and you walk up to the ledge. 

Ellie has to step up on the little ledge and she looks down at the courtyard below. “There’s so many of them.” Ellie exhales, looking at that view. You shift to stand next to her, Joel on the other side. Tess starts to talk, explaining the way the fungus spreads. “They’re connected.” Tess hums. “More than you know.” Joel looks over at you and meets your eyes for a second. 

You wish that he cared about you, but he doesn’t. You tear your eyes away from his and listen to Tess tell Ellis about how the tendrils spread underground, alerting other infected to your location. “You’re not immune from being ripped apart.” Tess cautions her. “You understand?” For a moment, the woman you hold such a grudge against seems almost motherly and you wish that she could talk to you with half the kindness, although you know you’ve not been exactly nice to her. Your feelings for Joel getting in the way of that.

“So we’re not going that way.” Ellie huffs and you shake your head, knowing what’s coming. “Short way?” She asks, looking between the three of you and you look to Joel for his opinion. 

“Museum.” He decides, making you roll your shoulders in anticipation of the problems ahead. 

You are anxious, preparing yourself to enter the museum and Joel glances at you, "be careful." He tells you softly, ignoring the glance from Tess. He opens the door, pleased after discovering the fungal roots are dry. He enters the Bostonian Museum, keeping his gun raised and ready.

Blowing out a soft breath, you grip your gun in your hand tightly and keep your head on a swivel as you watch your steps. The museum is dark and all you have for light is the flashlights, the kid breathing heavily at your back and you swear you hear her huff under her breath because Joel wouldn’t let her have a gun. She looks around, taking in the scene as the old building creaks and groans around you. “Yeah, cooked.” Joel says and Tess grunts. 

“Finally some fucking luck.” Ellie steps forward, almost carelessly at their conversation. “I guess we should have gone this way in the first place.” Joel hums, not watching as Ellie turns a corner. 

“Oh shit!” You rush over and shine another light on the body she discovered, groaning to yourself when you see that the person has been ripped up. Knowing what causes that. “What the fuck did that?” She demands, making you shush her quickly. You look over at Tess and Joel, the other woman looking nervous. 

“Maybe.” Tess whispers. “Maybe he was attacked outside. Crawled through the door, the door was open. It could have been him.” She insists, making you roll your eyes and scoff quietly. She knows that’s not what happened. 

“I don’t hear anything.” She insists. “What would you hear?” Ellie demands, her voice at a normal volume and all three of you turn towards her to quiet her down.

Joel holds his hand up, telling Ellie to quieten down. “What would you hear?” She repeats in a whisper, “you saying an infected did that?” Tess shushes her and you bite your lip. “-because I’ve been attacked by one and it wasn’t like that.” Ellie looks back at the body. 

“Okay from this point forward we are silent. Not quiet, silent.” 

Ellie shakes her head “what-” 

Joel cuts her off, “no questions. Just do it.” Joel is anxious, always tense when he’s in closed spaces, and he slowly makes his way up the stairs. It’s difficult to move so slow but he is careful when he steps on the dried fungus. He manages to make it up the stairs and onto the second floor. He opens the door, walking in with his gun ready. The ceiling collapses and Tess shoves Ellie forward, pushing her into you and the three of you fall onto the floor. Joel helps Ellie up and that’s when you hear it. A clicker.

Shit. Your gun comes up and you immediately move in front of Ellie, flanking Joel to his left and Tess to his right. You’re trapped in a room with a fucking clicker. You don’t dare to breathe, barely creeping forward since they rely on hearing, totally blind with the large, hard fungal growth covering their heads. You hear her breathing start to pick up and you turn to find her wide as you realize there is more than one. All of you crouch down behind a display and Joel motions to Ellie that they rely on hearing. You can see the terror on her face, making the way your heart is pounding in your chest. Joel puts his finger to his lips again as they continue to make horrible screeches and clicks as they search for the source of the sounds. The clicker comes around the display and the little girl sees it for the first time, inhaling sharply. 

Shit. The clicker turns and screeches before Joel brings his gun up to shoot it. 

It’s terrifying, fighting for your life, and you are scared that Joel is gonna get bitten. You scramble to shoot the clicker but eventually you run out of bullets. Joel curses, “fucking go.” He hisses, “I’ll distract it.” You rush to hide around a corner to reload your gun. The girl and Tess are across the room and your hands shake as you struggle to reload your weapon. “

Fuck.” You hiss and Joel comes to stand beside you, doing the same thing. His eyes are full of fear and you stare back at him until you hear the clicks.

Your eyes close for a brief second, well aware that this could be it for you. You hate it. The fact that you could die in this fucking museum and never find Tommy. Never tell Joel how you feel. The floorboards creak and you hear the clicks right next to you. Another sound draws its attention and you turn to watch it, finding Ellie cowering behind a display and both you and Joel creep over to her. Making your way silently until Joel steps on a piece of broken glass. You cry out and start shooting as the clicker flies over the display and knocks all three of you to the ground, trying to infect you as you fight it off. 

Joel curses, scrambling to keep the clicker away from you and Ellie and himself. It’s a struggle but eventually he manages to push it aside and put a bullet in its neck and eventually it’s face. Just as that one falls, the other rushes forward and Tess swings an axe into its head. Joel scrambles to grab his rifle, shooting the bastard in the head to kill it. “You alright?” Joel asks Tess as she stands. 

“Twisted ankle.” 

He turns to you, eyes wide and asks you the same question. “I’m fine.” You answer and Tess asks Ellie who exhales shakily, “well I didn’t shit my pants.”

You can’t help but laugh at her response, knowing you felt the same way the first time you dealt with clickers. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Turning back towards the kid, your eyes widen when you see that she’s injured again. “Ah…I mean if it was going to happen to one of us.” 

You catch the way that Tess tenses up, making you frown slightly but she’s quickly redirecting the conversation. “Hey, let’s get out of here.”

Making your way onto the roof, it’s obvious that Tess needs medical attention. Joel hands Ellie a rag for her arm and turns his attention to Tess. Leaving you to walk over to the other girl and help her while he concentrates on wrapping her ankle. “Come here. I’ll help you.” It will be a good distraction, tending to her wound rather than watching Joel fret over a twisted ankle. Soon her arm is wrapped and she’s walking towards the edge and the scaffolding that connects the two buildings. “Over there?” She asks and Joel barely glances at her. “Yeah, I know it looks scary.” Joel starts but Ellie interrupts him. “That was scary, this is wood.” She huffs as she brazenly walks across the beam and makes you smirk at the other two adults. 

"Just wait there. Give us a minute." Joel says and you step to follow Ellie across the wood, not wanting to see the tenderness Joel gifts Tess with. "Be careful." Joel warns you while opening his backpack. You scoff, walking across the wood as brazenly as Ellie. Joel shakes his head, while he tapes Tess's ankle. 

"Told you, she's trouble." Her eyes focus on Joel but he doesn't notice, set on the job at hand. "There's probably more ahead." 

Tess nods, "so we'll deal with it then...I got it. I got it." She tells Joel when he wraps around her ankle again. 

Joel leans back to look at Tess until his gaze turns to the building across from them. "What about the kid?" He asks, "maybe the first bite didn't take but what about the second?" 

Tess huffs, turning towards him, "why don't you just take the good news? Can you do that?" She asks Joel, "can you just for once think that we might actually win?" Tess asks and shakes her head, "just go and watch her and your fucking puppy." 

Joel sighs, grabbing his backpack and rifle before making his way across the wood. “Wow.” Ellie exhales, looking at that view. You shift to stand next to her, Joel on the other side. 

“Is that everything you hoped for?” Joel asks Ellie as you stare across what used to be a major city now turned to a deserted urban jungle. 

“Jury’s still out.” Ellie replies back, “but man…you can’t deny that view.” You hum in agreement and Joel looks at Ellie before his eyes meet yours for a second.

“Tess gonna live?” You ask, breaking the moment up but you hate how his eyes seem to suck you in. It’s not going to happen for you and you need to accept that. You’ve already decided that when Joel and Tess get their vehicle from the Fireflies, you are going to stay. You’ll go with them or turn around and find a way back to the QZ. You can’t do this anymore. It’s too hard and you know that it will never be you that he picks. Stupid of you to fall for a man who was obviously involved with someone whether or not he admitted it. Joel rolls his eyes, not answering you and you swallow harshly. “When we get to the state house-” You start, wanting to tell him your plan, but Tess comes hobbling up. 

“Come on, let's get there before it’s dark” She demands, impatient to get moving again as she swings herself onto the ladder. 

Ellie goes next and then you look at Joel who nods at you. You nod and make your way down the ladder, firm in your decision. Joel glances at his watch, thinking about Sarah, and forces himself to keep going. As you walk towards the state building, Joel glances down at Ellie’s arm. Cautious and wondering if she’s gonna turn at any second. When you arrive, there’s no one there and you duck behind a car to see if anyone shows. “Where the fuck are they?” Tess asks and Joel shakes his head, looking back at Tess before his eyes meet yours. 

He stands, rifle in his grip, and he makes his way over to the truck. Cautious and alert, he opens the passenger door and turns back to you, Tess and Ellie. “Stay back.” He orders, making his way around the truck to find the back is empty.

“Joel, what the fuck is going on?” You, Tess and Ellie come towards the truck and Joel shakes his head. 

“I don’t know.” 

You look around, a bad feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. “They went inside.” Ellie tells you, pointing to the blood on the ground and you sigh, knowing that is never a good sign. 

Tess seems to take this as a personal attack and grabs Ellie’s hand as she marches towards the steps. “Tess.” Joel huffs, making you roll your eyes but you follow are the pair. Not for Tess’s sake, but for the girls. You know Joel will be right behind you. You walk into the state house, finding all of the crew dead on the floor in the middle of a vegetation patch. 

“Holy shit.” Ellie hisses, and you have to agree. This is bad. 

“Fuck.” You hiss under your breath, checking for signs of FEDRA or if it was infected that got them. 

Tess searches the bodies, “I mean there’s gotta be a fucking radio or something, right?” She says, searching the crate closest to her. 

“Who killed them? FEDRA?” Ellie asks and you shrug, glancing back at Joel who pulls the body at his feet back onto its back. 

“No. One of them got bit. The healthy ones fought the sick ones. Everyone lost. Tess? What’re you doin’?” He asks, turning back towards her as she continues searching. 

Tess steps towards the girl and you edge your way in front of her to protect her. “Where did Marlene say that she was taking you? Ellie!” 

The girl steps forward, “uh. I don’t know. Just west.” 

Tess turns away, “just west. Fuck. Okay. Well, I mean one of them’s gotta have a map on them, right?” She says more to herself. “Joel, can you help me?” She asks, nearly begging. 

Joel shakes his head, “no! Tess, it’s over. We are going home.” He walks towards her, wanting to get everyone back to the QZ and safe. 

Tess growls, “that’s not my fucking home.” Joel stares at her, eyes unreadable as Tess stands up. “I’m stayin’.” She declares, “I mean, our luck had to run out sooner or later.” 

Joel’s face falls and your eyes widen just as Ellie says, “fuck. She’s infected.” Joel turns back to Tess, staring at her, almost begging her with his eyes for that to not be true.

“Show me.” Joel demands and you can hear the agony in the two words. He doesn’t want to believe it, doesn’t want it to be true. Your stomach drops, hating that she has been infected despite your differences. It didn’t mean you wanted her dead. 

“Joel.” She takes a step towards him and instinctively, he jolts backwards, pulling away from her. You walk towards the kid and put your arm around her shoulder gently, wanting to comfort her. Tess pulls her jacket away so you can see the bite on her neck and you close your eyes. “Oops.” She jokes. “Right?’ She turns to Ellie. “Take your bandage off.” You help Ellie take the bandage off to reveal that her own wounds from the clickers haven’t gotten any worse. She’s not infected. Walking over, she takes the girl's arm. “Look, Joel.” She demands, holding it up for  him to inspect. “This is real. Joel she’s fucking real.” She insists. “I need you to get her to Bill and Franks.” 

“No,” Joel shakes his head. 

“They’ll  take her off your hands. They’ll handle it from here.” 

“No, no, no, I can’t. They won’t take her. They’re not going to take her.” He frowns. 

“They will ‘cause you’ll convince them.” Tess tells him. “Yes you will. I never ask you for anything. Not to feel the way I felt…” You frown in confusion, not understanding what the fuck she is talking about. Joel loves her. 

“No.” Joel shakes his head but Tess interrupts him. 

“Not to…shut the fuck up because I don’t have time.” Joel looks devastated and you clutch Ellie’s shoulder as you try not to react to this entire scene being played out in front of you. 

“This is your chance. You get her there, you keep her alive, and you set everything right. I know you don’t feel the same way I do but you need to stop burying your feelings. Life is too damn short to keep lying to yourself.” Tess says, her eyes meeting yours before she looks back at Joel’s. “All the shit we did…” She looks over at you, “he was gonna offer you up to Robert. He was gonna trade sex with you for the battery we needed.” 

Your jaw drops and Joel refuses to look at you, keeping his gaze on Tess’s. “Little puppy dog, always following him around. Thinkin’ you were the third wheel when it was always me.” Tess chuckles humorlessly and shakes her head. “Please say yes, Joel, please.” Tess begs and Joel’s gaze shifts over to you. 

The way you’re looking at him is enough to make him say no. He wants to protect you, protect the girl. He can’t do that if he takes you both to Bill and Frank’s. “Please.” Tess begs again just as the body behind Ellie shifts to crawl. 

“Oh fuck!” The teenager yells and ducks behind you and Joel when you move her out of the way. Joel doesn’t hesitate to take his gun out, killing the bastard, and his jaw is clenched when he sees the fungus curling around the dead digits. He looks towards the door and rushes past Tess to open it. Eyes panicked when he looks back after shutting the door. 

“How many?” Tess asks. 

“All of them. Maybe a minute.” Joel says, spinning around in a panic to face you but you refuse to meet his eye.

Tess gets to work, pushing over the barrels of gasoline, spilling it over the ornate tile floor. “What are you doing?” You ask and Tess answers with “making sure they don’t follow you.” 

Joel is frozen, facing the reality that the woman who’s been his right hand for so long is not walking out of this building with him. He steps closer to her, grenades roll across the floor. “Joel.” Tess moves to stand in front of him. “Joel.” She repeats and he finally meets her gaze. “Save who you can save.” She orders, her eyes flicking over to you before she meets his dark stare. 

He’s struggling. Part of him wants to drag Tess out of here but the other side of him wants to keep you safe. He’s torn and eventually, the side of the living wins. He stares at Tess, offering her a small nod, and he spins, grabbing Ellie’s hand and wrapping his arm around your waist. “Stop! We’re not leaving her. Get off of me you fucker! I’m not going with you!” Ellie shouts and you let Joel drag you out of the building. He’s frantic to get you away before the building explodes with Tess inside of it. 

“Hurry up.” He growls, dragging you both until you’re far enough away. He ducks down as the glass explodes, shoving you on the floor, and he grabs his rifle to aim it in case any infected chase after you. 

Ellie stands beside him, watching their bodies fall to the floor with the flames, and Joel eventually lowers the gun. “Joel…” You trail off and he shakes his head, turning to walk away. Ellie lingers for a moment until you step forward to follow him.

Your jaw rocks and you shake your head, unable to believe that he had refused to even talk to you after Tess dropped that bomb on you. At least she told you before she died, even though it was supposed to be one last barb through your heart. “I’m not going.” You decide, stopping short, only a few hundred feet from where you had watched the building explode. “This is your mission. For Tess.” You turn around and start walking back the way you just came, sure that the infected will be burned now given the size of the fire bomb and the smoke still billowing from the building.

Joel pauses, watching you for a moment until he strides forward to grab your wrist, pulling you back to stop you walking away. “You ain’t going anywhere. It’s too dangerous. Stop movin’.” He growls when you try to pull out of his grip. “I don’t understand. What - why you wanna go back?”

Instead of trying to pull out of his grip, you spin around, slapping him across his cheek. “You fucking bastard!” You hiss, yanking your wrist away from him as he loosens his grip in shock. “You were going to- going to fucking sell me to Robert for your fucking battery!” Hot tears spill down your cheeks and you don’t even bother wiping them away. “I knew you didn’t-“ you break off, “fuck you, Miller.”

Joel is shocked that you slapped him and he hisses, “Jesus Christ.” He curses Tess despite her soul not even leaving the damn earth yet. “I didn’t sell you. He wanted you and I said no. I fuckin’ told him no.” He clarifies, ignoring the wide eyed look from Ellie. 

“Tell me you didn’t think about it.” You challenge him, chest heaving as you step closer and square up to him. “Tell me that you didn’t consider it.” Joel doesn’t answer you and your chin trembles when you see the guilt in his eyes. “I thought so.” You choke out. “I fucking loved you and you were going to whore me out to save money and get your goddamn battery.”

He shakes his head, “no baby. I didn’t - I didn’t do it though.” He chokes, knowing you hate him and he doesn’t know why that destroys him when he’s fought so hard to keep you at arms length. “You can’t love me, okay? I’m - I’m a fucking mess and I was fooling around with Tess until I realized that I -” He cuts himself off, knowing that it’s getting dangerous.

“Until you what? Couldn’t whore her out?” You spit, shaking your head at him. “I put up with the stupid fucking nickname. ‘Puppy dog’.” You sneer. “Guess that’s what I was, huh? A stupid little puppy dog that doesn’t fucking realize she’s not wanted. Following you around, helping you, trying to make you- fuck, I don’t know.” You lift your hands helplessly and slap them down against your thighs. “Make you love me, I guess. But that’ll never happen. I’m not Tess.” You close your eyes, and sigh. “Just- go to take Ellie where Tess wanted you to, go find your brother. I’ll- I’ll be fine. I’m not your problem.”

He knows he will lose you forever if he lets you go now and he’s lost so much in his life. The burden he carries every damn day with each life he loses around him. He can’t lose you too. He brushes over what you said to finish his own sentence. “I was fooling around with Tess until I realized that I was fuckin’ in love with you and Jesus fuckin’ Christ that terrifies me.” He confesses, chest heaving.

You frown, not believing him for a second. “Don’t lie to me, Joel.” You sob out angrily. “You at least owe me the fucking truth.” 

Ellie steps forward. “Hey so, uh- it’s-“ 

You turn around and glare at her. “Not now!” You hiss, wanting to finish this so you can leave and find some place to hole up for the night before sneaking back into the QZ. “She was practically living in your apartment. She was there every damn night. Now you want to tell me you weren’t fucking her?”

“I stopped. We weren’t - we were plannin’ the smuggling. We weren’t doing shit other than figurin’ out how to get shit past the wall, past FEDRA. Jesus, sweetheart, I didn’t - I don’t want to put you in danger. I’ve been tryin’ to keep you safe. Tess knew how I feel. Shit, she was jealous and that’s why she called you my puppy dog. I should’ve stopped it but doing that wouldn’t meant acknowledging these fuckin’ feelings that I’ve been tryin’ to squash down. Love doesn’t succeed in this goddamn hellhole. Love is a weakness and I - shit - you make me weaker than a paper straw under a one ton weight.”

You don’t know if you believe him. The sting of finding out that he had even thought about giving you to Robert, even for a moment, stings. But you know it would be safer for Ellie if there was more than one capable adult looking out for her ass. There’s enough of you that immediately wants to forgive Joel that you stare into his dark eyes for a moment before you nod. “Fine.” You whisper. “I’ll….go with you on this fucking haul.” 

Joel is relieved that you are coming along. He knows this conversation isn’t over but you need to get moving. Get to some kind of shelter before it gets dark. “Come on baby. We can talk later. Let’s get safe first.” He says, grabbing his rifle. Ellie raises her eyebrows at him as he walks past her. 

“Never knew you were so emotional, Joel.” She scoffs, remembering the books that would be passed around in secret at the school about romance and how the guy would kiss the girl after declaring he loved her.

Instead of following directly behind Joel,  you put the girl between you and him. Bringing up the rear for safety as well as to give you some space to allow for thinking about what the fuck you are going to do. You know Joel isn’t a ‘good man’ in the pre-end of the world morality. Maybe he was then, but this life, this world changed everyone - you included. You don’t even know as much as Tess might have, but you know that he had saved you when he could have killed you. That he didn’t give you to Robert. Biting your lip, you wonder if that’s why he was choking the bastard the day before yesterday. Not that it mattered, the fucker was dead. Sighing softly, you shift your gaze around the fading light to look for somewhere to safely pass the night. 

Joel guides you through the forest that is invading Boston, nature taking back what is rightfully hers. Joel sighs, holding his rifle, until he comes around a sheltered area. It’s not comfortable but it’s safe and that’s all that matters. “We will set up here.” He declares, watching the tree line for any disturbances and when he doesn’t find any, he shrugs his pack off.

You don’t speak, just shrug off your own pack and set it down as you start to get the area ready for the night. While the infected weren’t in this area, wild animals were. A fire would be necessary to keep them from getting too close and you know that the sun will be setting soon. You start to drag trash and debris closer, scrapping out an area to start the fire and pile things high. Joel can’t move much, not with his hand even though he would protest over it. 

Joel watches you start the fire and Ellie sits down on the ground, opening her pack to pull her sandwich out. She’s starving and she doesn’t want to wait to eat. When you’ve started the fire, Joel pulls out his food and water, holding it out towards you. “You gotta eat, sweetheart.” He says, watching you sit down across from him. He will mourn Tess later when he takes watch. He doesn’t want to show his emotions now when you’ve shattered him with your onslaught.

Shaking your head, you don’t take his offerings. “You need it more than me.” You tell him as you reach for your own pack. “I have my own but I just-” You bite your lip. “I’m going to sleep first. You take first watch and wake me in a few hours.” You don’t let him argue, setting your pack up as a pillow and turning your back on him and the girl, curling in on yourself and forcing yourself to close your eyes. 

He doesn’t argue, knowing you need to rest and he needs time to think. Ellie looks at him as he starts to chew on the jerky and he ignores her raised eyebrows. “Don’t say a word, kid.” He orders, shaking his head after he swallows the chewy bark. 

Ellie rolls her eyes, “whatever dude. You can’t see what’s right in front of you. What Tess saw.” She says and continues eating. Joel grimaces, thinking of Tess. He tried to hide how he felt about you from her, thinking he had been successful but he wasn’t.

You don’t know how long you’ve been asleep, but your jerk awake with a gasp. Your hand reaches for the gun that is right next to you and you flip over to try to figure out what woke you. The fire is still burning and the kid is curled but about five feet from you, wedged between the concrete wall and the fire. Joel is still awake, his eyes watching as you sit up. “Shit.” You huff, putting the gun down and blinking rapidly. “Get some sleep, I’ll take over.” You promise, groaning quietly as you move to your feet to stretch.

Joel shakes his head, “no. I wanna talk. Come here.” He pats the space beside him, wanting you to come and sit down. 

You hesitate but eventually sit down beside him. “What is it Joel?” You murmur, not wanting to rehash this bullshit. 

“Shut up.” He orders and you open your mouth. “Shut the fuck up.” He hisses, pissed off with you. “I’m not gonna make this damn speech again, okay? I don’t do this shit. Not since before outbreak day. I - I love you. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t - I can’t lose someone else and I - I haven’t felt this way in so damn long and I tried to ignore it but I love you. I’m in love with you darlin’ and that fuckin’ terrifies me.”

His speech startles you, not expecting to hear something like that. Not from him. You close your eyes and absorb the words that you have wanted to hear for so long, believing them to be nothing more than a wistful dream. “I’m sorry.” You offer. “For that, I guess. For Tess.” You have to look away from his dark gaze, unable to look at him for too long without wanting to kiss him. “I’m not sorry that I love you though.” You murmur, looking into the fire. “It’s- it hurt everyday but it was worth it.”

He turns to look at you, his brown eyes almost orange as they reflect the flames of the fire. He’s slow, giving you a chance to pull away but he leans in, cupping your cheek. His calloused thumb caresses the skin there and he leans in to kiss your lips. It’s soft, the opposite of him, but he wants this moment to be good, to be memorable in case you don’t make it past tomorrow. In this life, every day is a bonus.

Eyes slipping closed, you want to live in this moment. Joel’s lips on yours makes your entire body tingle. Reaching up and taking his hand while your other finds his shoulders. Moaning softly because you can’t believe this is happening and you never expect it to be so gentle.

Joel groans softly into the kiss, grabbing your ass to pull you into his lap. Straddling him and he glances over your shoulder to make sure the kid is still asleep. “Fuck.” Joel groans when you are pressed against him, his lips finding your jaw and he kisses until his lips press against yours again.

You whine again his lips when his hands squeeze your ass just like you’ve imagined more times than you ever want to admit. Wrapping your arms around his neck and shamelessly grinding down on the bulge in his jeans that you had always salivated over. “Joel.” You whisper, not wanting to wake the kid. “I-“ he shushes you, pressing his lips to yours again.

His hands slide under your shirt, wanting to feel more of you, and he groans when you grind down on him again, cock hardening in his jeans. He thinks you’re gorgeous, fucking gorgeous, and he’s jerked off thinking about you too many lonely nights after he stopped sleeping with Tess. “We gotta be quiet.” He orders, sliding his hands higher so he can undo the clasp of your bra. He doesn’t take it off, just pushes it up your chest so he can slide his hands around your torso to cup your tits, squeezing them in his rough hands.

There’s a voice in the back of your mind that wonders if this is because Tess is dead. If you’re merely replacing her for him. You push it down, ignore it. You don’t care when you are getting to touch him like you’ve always wanted to. Ducking your head down and kissing the bare patch on his jaw like you’ve always wanted to. Your fingers fumbling with his belt as you try to get him free from his pants. You can’t ride him like this, not without taking your pants off and that’s dangerous. Hell, this is too dangerous really. You’re distracted by him.

He knows this is dangerous, the girl could wake up, but he desperately wants to feel you. He works on your pants, unbuttoning them and he shoves his hand inside, cupping your cunt after sliding under your panties. He finds you wet but not dripping and his fingers rub your clit after sliding through your folds.

You swear you’re going to bite through your lip trying to keep quiet. Loving the thick fingers you’ve watched so many times slide though your folds and press against your clit. “Joel.” You pant, needing more from him. “I- you have to fuck me.” You gasp out. “Please. Just- just once.” You know that he might change his mind come morning. That he could put that wall back up but you will be happy if you just get one night. “Please, baby. I need you.”

He nods, knowing he needs that connection. Losing Tess, nearly losing you, it’s been a long ass day and he wants to connect to you. He whispers for you to stand up and he withdraws his fingers, making you whine softly. When you stand, he pulls your jeans and panties down to your ankles, dragging you back into his lap so you are straddling him, cunt bare to the cool night air. He reaches down to take his cock out, “can’t cum inside of you. Gonna need you to let me drag you off when I cum.” He whispers, knowing he won’t risk you like that.

You nod quickly, readily agreeing to whatever he wants. “I know- it’s- it’s okay.” You promise, reaching down and wrapping your hand around the thick head of his cock and moaning quietly at the smear of pre-cum building up on the tip so gorgeously. “I-“ instead of telling him that you love him again, you rock your hips forward and line him up so you can sink down on him with a moan of his name that is pressed to his shoulder as you take him.

Fuck, you’re so tight. Hot and wet around him and you mean so much to him. His heart thumps in his chest while his cock twitches when you bottom out. “Fuckkkk.” He hisses through his teeth, hands gripping your ass and he struggles to remain calm as he allows you a moment to adjust around him. “Gotta be quiet.” He whispers in your ear, kissing the skin beneath it.

“You- you might have to cover my mouth.” You admit breathlessly, whispering the words to him as you flash him a quick smile. “Always been loud in bed.” An irony in a world where you’ve had to be silent at so many times when you just wanted to scream. Your fingers sink into his hair and you tug on it slightly as you start to move, wanting to ride him and eager to feel this incredible cock filling you more.

Joel knows he will want more after this. He’s already addicted to you and the thought of ever giving this up, you up, has him on edge. He presses his lips to yours, silencing you with his tongue, and he groans softly when your walls grip him tight when you find the angle that works for you. His hands slide up and down your back, squeezing your ass and enjoying how damn good you feel around him.

You try to stifle your sounds but it’s hard when he feels like he’s in your fucking throat. Stretching you out and making you feel more relaxed than you have in years, while craving more. Your tongue tangles with his while your thighs start to push up and down, moving yourself on his length in a way that keeps you as close as possible. Needing to feel every inch of him as much as you can.

Joel is trying to hang on to his composure, resist the urge to roll you over and just slam into you, fuck you into the ground, but he can’t. The kid is there. He can’t do that now. So he lets you lead, just pulling back to watch you work yourself on his cock. When your mouth opens to moan again, he shoves two fingers in there, wanting you to keep quiet. “Can’t wake the kid, darlin’. You gotta keep quiet.” He reminds you, leaning in to rasp in your ear.

His hands are dirty, filthy. You should want to spit them out but you don’t. Not even caring at this point. The feeling of his cock shredding up into you every time your hips fall is too good to care. His voice rumbling in your ear makes your cunt clench around him, swearing you can cum from him talking.

There’s so much to say to you and yet he can’t. The risk is too much, to both waking up the kid, and to his own heart. He can’t bring himself to say anything but he does lean in to kiss you, replacing his fingers with his lips, and his hand finds your clit. Rubbing tight circles in it as he gets closer to his own orgasm.

You whimper, groaning as he keeps rubbing your clit. Trying to keep quiet but it’s so hard when he feels this good. Your arms tighten around him and you kiss him harshly, feeling your cunt bottom out and your entire body light up with pleasure as you start to cum for him.

“That’s it baby.” Joel practically exhales into your mouth as you clamp down on his cock, body shaking against his. He pulls you closer, thrusting up into you as best he can until he’s pushing you onto the ground beside him, barely managing to shift onto his knees to cum on the dirt and not ruin your clothing. He pants, chest heaving while his cock twitches in his hand. “Jesus Christ.” He exhales, letting go of his cock to tuck himself away and he shuffles over to where you are on the ground. “Sorry baby. Couldn’t - needed to pull out.”

“It’s fine.” You pant, understanding why he needed to pull out, but wishing he hadn’t. “You can’t risk it.” You’ve never told him anyway and in the moment isn’t a good time anyway. It’s not like it matters anyway. You shuffle quietly, trying to pull your clothes back on and put yourself to rights.

Joel watches you put your clothes back on and once you’re settled, he reaches for your hand, dragging you close to wrap his arms around you. He breathes you in, relieved that he didn’t lose you today. He lost Tess, which he will process and grieve in his own way, but right now, he’s just happy to have you. He loves you, he really does. He wishes he had told you sooner but this life is unpredictable at the best of times. You have a journey ahead with him to get to Bill and Frank’s and he will do everything he can to keep you safe. Whatever it takes…he won’t lose anyone else he loves.

****

Joel reluctantly turns over the responsibility of watch to you. He needs rest, you know he didn’t sleep last night and he’s had a fucking hell of a day. You all had, but him most of all. Whatever him and Tess had been towards the end, he had cared for her in his own way and he needed to grieve her. You keep the fire crackling, staring into the flames when you aren’t watching the inky blackness around your small space and listening for more than the rustles of wildlife. Your jerky and your water bottle your own companions through the rest of the night until the first rays of sun peak over the horizon and the sky begins to brighten.

When Joel wakes up, you and Ellie are talking, and he winces at the sunlight, trying to figure out how long he’s been asleep.  “Why didn’t you wake me?” He grunts and you shake your head, “you needed to sleep.” 

Ellie nods, “yeah man. You had a rough day yesterday.” 

He sits up, running his fingers through his hair and he shifts to stand up. “We gotta get going. Get your shit together. I’m gonna take a piss.” He stumbles to the tree line, gun in hand and he checks his surroundings before he shoves the weapon in the back of his jeans and pulls his cock out to pee. When he returns, you’ve put the fire out and are ready to go. Joel grabs his pack and leads the way, rifle in hand.

You walk alongside Ellie for a bit, hanging back as you try to figure out how to tell Joel. You should, he deserves to know. “So, uh, did you work your shit out?” Ellie asks, making you look over at her. “Cause I don’t want it to be a tense trip.” She offers, making you snort. 

“It’s going to be a tense trip regardless.” You remind her, the journey is no walk in the park for sure. “But we’ve talked. While you were asleep.”

Ellie snorts, “talked. Sure.” She doesn’t believe you just talked. She’s not dumb. She learned about all that in school and she knows that’s how most adults show how they feel. You fluster and look at Joel as he strides ahead, rifle gripped in his hand. He sighs and looks over his shoulder at you and Ellie.

You see Joel jerk his head towards you, motioning for you to come up beside him. Eager to get away from Ellie’s prying questions, you hustle forward and catch up to him. “Something up?” You ask, wondering if he wants to talk about the plan for getting Ellie to Bill and Frank’s.

Joel turns to look at you as you come alongside him, “everything okay with the kid?” He asks and you nod, “yeah she’s good.” 

He sighs, “you think she’s gonna be okay with Bill and Frank?” You shrug, “who knows.” Joel glances behind him again to see Ellie looking around and he takes a chance to reach out and hold your hand.

Shocked, you look down at his large hand wrapped around yours, holding it tight and yet he’s not crushing it. Your heart thumps in your chest and it’s impossible to not fall more in love with him. “Joel- I need to tell you something.” You murmur softly, not wanting Ellie to hear.” You can feel him tense up but you squeeze his hand reassuringly. “It’s not- it’s nothing bad. Or, I guess it’s better to say, "I made peace with it a long time ago.” You take a deep breath. “You don’t have to worry about getting me pregnant.” You confess. “I can never have kids.”

Joel frowns, turning to look at you. "You can't - shit. Baby, I'm so sorry." He murmurs, knowing it must've been hard to process. "What - what did they say?" He is curious and wants to know why you can't have kids. He also wants to comfort you but all he can do is squeeze your hand. Even this is more intimacy than he is used to displaying.

“Premature ovarian failure.” You roll your eyes at the words that had been told you so many years ago. “Basically, I stop producing eggs.” You explain. “I found out about two years before the end of the world. So I guess it’s handy?” You try, your joke falling flat. “Not that I would want to have kids in a world like this. It’s not fair to them. Not fair to her.” You nod back towards Ellie. “I just- if we, you know, again….you don’t have to pull out if you don’t want to. If you do, I get it.”

Joel feels guilty that he is happy to hear he doesn't need to pull out but he's sad that you won't get to be a mom. You'd be good at it, even in this fucked up world. "I'm sorry you couldn't, you know, but, next time...I want you in a bed and I ain't gonna pull out." He murmurs so the kid can't hear.

You shiver slightly, happy to hear that there will be a next time if both of you can help it. You hum quietly and shoot him a small smirk. “Maybe we can find a hotel to spend the night in tonight.” You tease softly, not sure what awaits you on this journey but at least you’ll be there. By his side this time, instead of trailing along behind him like his little puppy.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #hbo the last of us spoilers #tlou hbo #hbo tlou #hbo the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction

[aemonds-sapphire]

Take a Seat

Summary: You tell Aemond you can´t stand him. He invites you to take a seat.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Face riding. Oral sex. Aemond is a tease. Aemond's nose is amazing. Masturbation. Aemond’s POV.

Word count: 1.3k

“Aemond!”

Your screech reverberated through the walls of his bedchambers.

The young prince reckoned it wouldn’t take much longer before your angry voice was heard yet again.

“Aemond!”

There it was.

A wave of satisfaction rippled along his entire body as anticipation gradually built up.

“Where are my clothes?” you bellowed in frustration from inside the bathing room. “Your sister awaits me! I will be late.”

Truth be told, Aemond dreaded having to part ways with you this early in the morning. Selfishness might be an overstatement.

He preferred to see it as a need.

The need to have you around and all to himself.

To consume all of you.

So, he decided to hide your clothes and bath towel while you were readying yourself for another day at court.

Quite a dull a fair, in his opinion.

He could deliver so much more to you than a day of walking around behind his sister and tending to her needs.

What about his needs?

And yours?

His antics proved to be enough to kindle your anger and frustration, which would only work in his favour in the end.

The dragon always comes out victorious.

As soon as your burst into the room, dripping wet and ready to pounce him, Aemond felt a rush of blood flooding downwards in a subtle tingling sensation.

“What did you do with my clothes?” you growled, taking large steps in his direction. “I will be late!”

Aemond merely shrugged, grateful that his ever growing erection was neatly hidden away from you under the bed cover.

He watched in sheer delight as you grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him, which he promptly deflected with one hand, his reflexes sharp as ever.

“You are so… infuriating!” you sighed in exasperation.

A teasing smile curled his lips. Getting under your skin had become one of his favourite pastimes. It got you all riled up with this pent-up tension that he’d so gladly fuck out of you.

But then something else crossed his mind.

Oh… you were probably going to flip at this.

But he was feeling particularly daring and willing to push you a little more than usual.

“I’m feeling feverish,” he started. “There’s this pain….”

And just as he had predicted, the visible traces of anger on your face faded into a worried look.

You sat naked on the edge of the bed, placing the back of your hand to his forehead.

“Where does it hurt?”

Aemond lifted the bedsheets, revealing his hard cock to you. “Here.”

You immediately scowled at how shameless he was.

“I was seriously worried!”

And just as you stood up and were about to smack him, he took the opportunity to grab both your wrists and had your leg swing over his body with such refined skill you were left sitting on his bare torso at lightning speed.

You tried to jerk free from his grasp. “Aemond! I’m going to be late!”

He honestly couldn’t care less. Having you fully naked and on top of him only served to further ignite his desire for you.

“Your sister awaits me near the gates of King’s Landing,” you huffed in annoyance. “We are going for a walk today.”

“I’ll fly you there on Vhagar if I have to,” he said casually, rubbing both thumbs along your pulse points. “I am sure my sister can do without you for a while, my lady.”

Once again, you yanked both arms in an attempt to break free, but all in vain. He was far too strong, and he wasn’t willing to let go of you just yet.

“I cannot stand you!” you growled menacingly.

What a blatant lie.

All that forced outrage had his cock twitch in anticipation. How he adored fucking you into submission, peeling off all those layers that you so vehemently insisted on keeping on just to have him crawl for you.

You were aware of your hold on him. If you really wanted to, you’d be able to bend him to your will.

He’d do everything and anything for you.

“Say that again.”

Your eyes narrowed with renowned defiance. “I cannot stand you.”

“Then sit on my face.”

Your eyes then widened in surprise. “What?”

Aemond wanted to let go of his hold on you have his hands cup your breasts, but he decided against it. He wanted to make sure you were fully committed to him.

“Let me taste you,” he insisted, his cock throbbing lightly.

You faltered briefly as you clenched your thighs around him. “You’re so…”

“So what, my lady?”

Aemond then let go of you, knowing fully well he had you trapped.

“Infuriating.”

“I’ll take that as compliment,” he said and with one hand, he smacked your ass lightly, but you didn’t budge.

“I… I am going to be late…”

Aemond was a patient man, but his patience was wearing thin. “Then stop wasting time and ride my face.”

You hesitated at first, but caved in eventually. He slid his pillow to the side so that he could be the perfect seat for you. Carefully, you lifted yourself from him before finally settling directly above his face.

Aemond wouldn’t mind parting ways with life with the sight of your inviting pussy as his last memory.

What a glorious way to go.

He nearly letting out a groan and a sigh of relief rumbled across his chest the moment you were fully sitting on him.

Instinctively, he brought both hands to grip your thighs. The delicious moan that escaped your lips was incentive enough for him and without much effort he parted his lips and delved his tongue deep inside you.

Delicious.

“Oh…”

You were so fucking endearing. The fact that you were still surprised that he could deliver all that pleasure with just a few strokes of his skillful tongue did wonders to his ego.

Your folds encased the corners of his mouth, as if trying to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

And he had no intention of doing so.

Aemond was well aware of how to increase the pleasure he delivered to you.

He knew you would quiver from feeling his nose pressing into your swollen clit.

The moment he did so, his hands had to grip your thighs harder to keep you in place from all the shuddering.

An intense shiver ran down his spine as he was able to feel the pulse from your throbbing clit on his nose.

Truthfully, he simply could never get tired of how your body responded to him so eagerly.

His hips to shot up reflexively as his cock twitched from the need to be buried inside you.

“Aemond… not … not the—”

Your words faded and turned into a pleasurable moan as soon as his tongue went deeper, forcing his nose to press into you harder than before.

Aemond was still able to watch you gripping the headboard for support, before shutting his eyes as overwhelming bliss filled him. His cock throbbed with each heartbeart and the skin at the base pulling as he hardened even more.

He kept tongue-fucking you, drinking in your juices and your whimpers. Your wetness was now spreading across his chin, and he brought one of his hands to free his cock from the sheet on top, allowing it to spring free. The dire need to fuck you was ever growing.

But he had would have you reach your peak on his face rather than his around his cock.

The way his nose rubbed your clit caused your hips to buck and jerk from the stimulation, forcing his other hand to increase his grip even more on you to keep you in place as you were riding his face.

“Oh… oh… Aemond…”

You were done for.

And so was he.

He wrapped his fingers around his leaking and needy cock, yearning for nothing more than relief. It was becoming unbearable to feel your heartbeat invade his mind and travel down his body in rhythmic waves of pleasure.

A high-pitched moan fell from your lips. “Aemond… my prince… please…”

Aemond had no need of your words of approval or praise or bliss. He could feel your pleasure and that was all he needed.

Showing was far more saturated than telling.

The obscene slurping sounds coming from him were enough to have his hips jerk once again as he fucked his hand desperately.

He was too close.

Almost embarrassingly so.

He was aware that pumping his own cock drastically hindered his endurance. There was only so much he could withstand.

Soon enough, he felt your thighs begin to quiver erratically as he ran his tongue along the sensitive clit.

With a few more jerks from your hips, you were catapulted into your orgasm, shaking violently into his face while raking your fingers through his hair before gripping a few strands forcefully.

“Good… so good…” you cried out too lost in your own pleasure as a gush of your wetness flooded his tongue.

Not long after, he felt your legs begin spasm uncontrollably. And he didn’t just feel this because they were tightening around his head; he felt your every contraction and twitch as he brought his nose to tease your swollen bud, tongue still lodged between your soaked folds.

And that was precisely what pushed him over the edge.

The overwhelming pleasure took over him completely and Aemond reached the point of no return. Hot spurts of cum shot from his tip with each spasm of his own body; the muscles in his thighs and lower abdomen tightened along with his balls.

No words in High Valyrian or any other tongue could do justice to the intense pleasure that took over him.

A few strands of hot liquid ran down his fingers, but he paid no mind to the mess. His own heart pounded insanely loud inside his ears and he stopped breathing for a moment as a guttural growl ripped through his throat through gritted teeth.

You slid off to the side, allowing his deep groans to echo around the bedchamber.

Aemond’d endurance was something he took pride in, but a powerful release was still enough to have him panting and feeling lightheaded. Your juices were spread across his chin and lips and jaw and nose with a few drops running down his face.

“I still cannot stand you…” you struggled to say in between pants.

He licked the excess liquid from his lips, locking his eye with your hazy ones. “Are you challenging me to bring you to your peak once more?”

“I am already late,” you protested, struggling to slide out of bed and nearly tripping as your legs wobbled from having your strained leg muscles.

Aemond couldn’t help but to chuckle as you tried your best to keep your balance.

“I will carry you to Vhagar and fly you there,” he offered. “I doubt you’ll be able to walk regardless.”

It was in moments like these that Aemond was thankful to his fast reflexes as his hand prevented yet another pillow from reaching his face.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #aemond x reader #aemond x you #hotd smut

[enditen]

birds of a feather

summary: a bit of understandable anger toward your fiancé for— in your eyes— unwise decisions leads to hurt feelings and avoidance. thankfully, the two of you come back together in the most interesting of places.

word count: 4090ish.

rating: m

warnings: public sexual acts. talk of death ( rooster's, goose's and carole's ). angst. two adults being stubborn fools. talk about breasts. talk about ruining hawaiian shirts and dress whites. kind of playing around with naval deployments and what not.

pairing: bradley ( rooster ) bradshaw x female reader ( callsign vulture )

author's note: hi, first fic in this fandom that was simply supposed to be hot titty fucking with a title of a tit for a cock and then turned into 4k of angst then some titty fucking. some of you might recognize me from another fandom on here on tumblr to which if you do, hi y'all. also i feel like i missed tags and i'm sorry about that. assuming i write more for this because i've gotten over my nervousness i'll learn. and special thanks to @blurredcolour for being a little cheerleader

You’re beginning to wonder if there’s just something about Maverick that just turns everyone around him a bit stupid. You like to think that most of the team surrounding your fiancé aren’t idiots and yet there you were being proven completely wrong as you listened to Bradley explain what exactly had happened on the mission.



“That’s not what he meant when he said don’t think!” You remembered screaming into the phone, knowing fully well that while Mav was his own special brand of stupid- and deliriously lucky he wasn’t the same level of pure unadulterated idiocy Bradley was displaying.

“It worked out!” Was somehow his raspy defense and it had taken all your self control to not hang up the phone right then and there, the sheer unmitigated aggravation seeping through your pores As it stood, what you did end up doing was letting out the world’s most put upon sigh as you rolled your eyes.



“You’re just lucky Mav didn’t have to bury another bird.” At Rooster’s sharp inhale you started to speak again. “I didn’t mean it— I’m just—”



“No. I get it, Vulture,” he spat out your callsign, a definite sign that he’s pissed and you had struck a nerve you honestly shouldn’t have right in that moment before you heard something in the background. “You don’t have to come get me, I’ll get home fine.”



The silence after he hung up feels almost as all consuming as the idea of him dying was.

It’s always been a thing that when one of you comes back from deployment or from a mission or from visiting friends who are stationed somewhere else that you pick one another up. Some of your friends call it silly, but for you and Rooster it works. You’ve always wanted to be together all the time but at the same time— when opportunities present themselves you’ve never been the type to ignore them. Hell, even if you wanted to, the other one would just argue against ignoring the opportunity. That’s why you found yourself here, waiting for Rooster to come back from what should have been a mission he didn’t come back from. What was almost a mission he didn’t come back from. You wonder if this is how his mom felt with his father and if the reason she never wanted him to become a pilot like this is to avoid anyone else having her fate. You see Rooster walking with Hangman and are about to lean out of the car to tell him to get his ass in the car before he sees you through your windshield. The look he gives you is one of aggravation and hurt that you’ve so rarely seen on his face that it practically pins you to your seat in the car. You've seen those brown eyes look at you with so much love and you've made jokes comparing them to warm chocolate more than once but in this moment— all they do is remind you of a hardened and unbreakable tree.



He shakes his head before turning to keep talking to Hangman, laughing at some probable dumb joke the man said and you swear your stomach drops through the floor of the car. You hadn’t thought he was serious about not wanting you to come get him and here he was getting into someone else’s car to go— home? Maybe, or maybe he was going to crash on Hangman’s couch or find— no. No, for all that Rooster was angry with the slip of your tongue he would never cheat on you. He loves you in a way that makes other people sick and makes Maverick and Penny tell you that yeah, you kind of remind them of his dad and Carole.



Still, he’s never been this angry at you and that terrifies you in ways that you can’t put into words. You’ve flown dangerous missions that didn’t terrify you as much as the look on Rooster’s face did right in that moment. After what feels like hours, but is only really ten minutes you pull out of the area you were parked in and head home. You don’t realize Hangman hasn’t left and that Rooster watches you leave from his side of the truck. 



“She couldn’t have done anything that bad, man.” Jake tries to reason as he puts the truck in reverse. 



“You don’t know her like I do," he scoffs, shaking his head and slipping on his aviators. "I forgot why she’s called Vulture. Just— Just drive.”

You suppose it's a mercy that you see Rooster the next morning, making coffee as if he didn't break your tradition with one glance through a car windshield. Suppose you should be thankful he's back home and in your kitchen and not back home in a casket, but you've never been one to allow yourself simple pleasures like that when you're hurt. When your heart's twisted into the version of itself that only releases anger and toxic fumes to push away everyone you hold dear.



That anger has your mouth moving before your brain can catch up and make you see sense. All you know is that the man you love hasn't said one word to you since that phone call and he's only making one cup of coffee and not two. Another tradition broken and you can only see red.



"Are you ignoring me?" You ask the moment he turns around, sipping his coffee without seemingly a care in the world.



Bradley isn't necessarily the more verbose out of the two of you, but he's never particularly short with you. Today is the exception, much like everything about the past two days.



"No." A pause as he sets down his coffee cup and you see a bit of coffee clinging to his upper lip and that stupid little mustache you've grown to love over the years. "Maybe."



"Maybe," you parrot, moving over to where he's standing and watching as he moves just far enough away to allow you to grab your own cup and your own specific pod to make your coffee. "You nearly die, I say something stupid and now you're acting like a moody teenager. Cute, Roo."



Roo. Not even Rooster and certainly not his name because he certainly doesn't deserve it in this moment. You watches as his eyes drift over your body, noting how you're wearing one of his favorite Hawaiian shirts with the top buttons unbuttoned, revealing skin that normally he'd have covered in kisses a thousand times over since he returned last night. Instead it's unmarred by his lips and teeth and you're as vicious as can be. Two can play that game. Two can be childish.



"I'm sorry, something stupid. No— no, you didn't say something stupid. You said something cruel. That's a big difference, babe. One is normal, the other is you reminding me that I could have left you alone just like my mom was. Like that didn't go through my head. Like Maverick didn't tell me that much while we were heading back. "



A laugh erupts from deep inside your chest as you turn to look at Rooster. "Did it really go through your head? Did you think I'm throwing away my life with Vulture because I need to save someone who ruined parts of my life? Or did your brain get scrambled from the G's?"



You watch as eyes that you love start to fill with something resembling tears as his hand clenches the coffee cup. He loves you, he knows that to be a simple fact. He loves you. His father loved him and his mother. Mav loves him and loved his father and his mother. And you love him. In this moment though, that last one feels like a joke, feels like a dagger twisting in his chest. Maybe you don't love him if this is what you want to spew at him. You're a woman who should have had a callsign of Viper but only gets Vulture because you can handle things other people couldn't. You take care of things other people wouldn't or couldn't. He supposes you taking on all of those things is what makes you the way you are.



"It's what my dad would have done," he forces the words out and tries to not cry because you know what that means to him. You know know better than anyone. "I was his wingman."



"And what about my wingman, Bradley?" Your question comes out softer than you mean it to even as you slam your coffee pod into the machine. Somehow tears start to tease the edge of your eye line. "You were just going to leave me without mine. You really are your father's son. Guess I should be happy we don't have a little you running around. That's a little too on the nose."



The slam of the coffee cup startles you more than anything you've thought was possible in that moment and yet without missing a beat you turn to face Rooster once again in time for you to see angry tears falling from his eyes. "I'm not doing this. You're— I didn't leave you. You're not having to bury me and you're not having to be by my side as I bury the closest thing I have to a father now. That is what should matter. Not what I did. What I know you would have done for some people. What you'd have done for Phoenix alone. I'm here in our kitchen wearing my engagement ring and you're just wearing my shirt and not sobbing into it because it's the closest thing that smells like me. Let it go." He takes a moment to take a shaky breath and starts to move toward you. "I made a mistake but I don't regret it. Let. It. Go."



If you were younger, if you were the same girl Rooster met all those years ago you'd have taken your ring off and slammed it on the counter right next to his coffee cup in a fit of anger. You're older now, same as Bradley and you stop yourself even as your hand inches toward your ring finger. Bradley's always been taller than you unless you're in heels and it forces you to look up at him. "You forget who you're wanting to marry, Bradshaw. I'm— I'm not letting this go. Just— you know what, sleep on the couch, do whatever. I don't care— you're not sleeping in our bed. Especially if you want to act like I meant to say what I said in the first place. You want to ignore me? Fine. Then do that."



You see Bradley's jaw tense, and watch the way it moves as you normally would enjoy before he speaks. "Wasn't planning on sleeping there for a while anyway. Enjoy your coffee, Y/N."

Ever since you had started dating, you and Bradley had talked every single day. No matter the fight, no matter what happened between you two you would never let something like this drag on for so long. Life was short after all and you two were both vividly aware of that.



This time though, this time it drags on for two weeks and you have a half right mind to stand in front of Bradley until he talks until you realize from how even Phoenix looks at you while at the Hard Deck that it wouldn't help. It truthfully might make things worse. So you let him stew and he lets you stew. You miss him and you like to think he misses you but you're both very stubborn people who know how to hold grudges with the best of them.



It's strange, ignoring someone you love in your own house but sometimes you'd like to argue that you and Bradley are strange people. Normal most of the time but with those small little scars inside and out that make you do strange things. Strange things like make sure your dress whites are ready to go the day of what you think is a ceremony— honestly you hadn't paid attention for once to the notice. That's what you do with someone you love and someone you care about— not someone you're still so angry with that it hurts to talk to them.



You arrive separately to questioning looks from most of the Dagger Squad and Maverick but you both shrug and smile them off even as you stay apart most of the night. What you both don't realize is that the other is sneaking glances when one of you looks away. Your eyes take in the man who you think— you hope— is still going to be your future husband and bemoan the fact that he can't wear this uniform everywhere. There's something special about seeing him all dressed in white and looking every bit a dashing naval aviator.



His eyes? Oh, his eyes take in the woman he knows he's still going to marry if one of you would just break already. They take in you in white which you hate wearing because it shows off everything and stains and all those silly things you say. They take in how your jacket contains your chest but how the buttons strain just a little and how he knows that you're probably wearing a lace bra that he loves underneath it. He knows how that bra feels against his hands when he cups your breasts and squeezes them in his hands. Your chest is a work of art sometimes— all the time really and he hasn't touched in over two weeks.



Jake is the one who notices how Bradley's eyes haven't left you for a few minutes and notices how he's shifting in place— fidgeting in a way he's never seen him.



"She's been staring at you too," the blonde chuckles. "This is— This is every bad high school dance and military ball I've ever been to rolled into one. Go over to her, Rooster. Stop pining, man."



Bradley wants to defend himself but he turns to look at you again only to catch your eyes and how they slide down his body before stopping at his crotch and— he finds most logic and sense goes out the window. Like two magnets drawn to one another you both find yourselves by each other's sides, with hands grazing each other's hips.



"I—" He starts before you shake your head.



"I was being cruel. You've— We both know I get like that and I was terrified, Bradley. I saw our lives flashing before my eyes the second I found. It was gone in an instant. That doesn't excuse—" Your words are cut off with a soft kiss that you're both endlessly thankful no one sees.



"Babe. Trust me, I know I was an idiot and that same vision you had? Yeah, you weren't the only one. I swear I heard my mom and my dad yelling at me." His words are soft as he nuzzles his nose against yours, laughing softly when you scrunch up your nose because of his mustache. "I'm sorry."



You sniffle a little, partially to prevent a sneeze from his mustache hair and to cover up the fact that you're a little emotional. "I'm sorry too." You take a moment to look up meet his eyes only to see how his eyes are trained on your breasts. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, are you staring at my boobs in public? At a function?"



You watch as a light dusting of color reaches his cheeks before he bites his lips. "And if I am?"



A breath leaves your mouth slowly as you move the hand that's been on his hip toward the front of his dress pants, giggling softly at the slight hardness you feel. "I'd say you should stop unless you want me to take care of this in the bathroom."



His eyes dart around the room checking to see if anyone will notice you're both gone for a bit before he laughs. "Meet you there in five?"



You practically give yourself minor whiplash as you nod quickly. "Can I keep the bra on?"



His groan almost gives the two of you and your plans away.

The great thing, you think, about this bra, is that it makes it so easy to have Bradley stick his cock in between your breasts without taking it off. You know by the end he'll want it off, want to squeeze your breasts as he slides his cock in between them but in the beginning he's fine with this.



"I missed my girls," he groans as you press your arms against the side of your chest, pushing your breasts together even more. "Should— Should've gotten over myself and fucked you in my shirt that morning."



"You would have gotten come on your favorite Hawaiian shirt, Bradley," you try to reason with him even as your voice takes on an airy sort of quality the quicker your fingers move in between your legs. You should have taken off your pants but you realize it's a little too late for that now.



"We're probably getting come on our dress whites, babe." It's a joke but one that's likely very true from the way you can see his cock pulse and from the way your fingers— even through the articles of clothing you're wearing sound so obscene as they squelch and slide between your folds. "Would've made it better. Fuck, swear this bra does something to your tits."



"It's a bra? A dressy one? That's the point?" You can't help but giggle as he moves faster, his cock gilding against the soft skin of your breasts. "You getting close baby?"



"Lil bit," he grunts out, his hand moving to try and grasp at one of your nipples. "You wanna free them? Let your nipples join in on the fun?"



"You just wanna smear them with precome, Bradshaw, you're not slick." It's not a no, and your hands move to start undoing your bra even as you look up and see Bradley with the dumbest smirk you've ever seen him have. "Why are you—"



"You're slick though," he pulls his cock out from between your breasts and bends down to kiss you as your bra releases your breasts. "Bad—"



"Bad dirty dad joke," you cut him off with a fond shake of your head. "At least wait until we have a little birdy before you stoop that low."



A shrug is the only answer you get as he lines his cock up with your breasts and waits for you to press them together before saying a single phrase. "Sorry. It's in my blood."



You look up at him through your eyelashes and sigh, ignoring how your heart twists a little at the faked twinkle in those brown eyes of his. Instead you bend your head down just a little to lick a small kitten lick at the head of his cock. "Doomed to those jokes for the rest of my life as Mrs. Bradshaw. What have I done?"



A shudder ripples through him at your lick and he has to force himself to not come right then and there all over your perfectly made up face. He wants to though, wants to see you debauched like you should have been the second he came home and was alive and in your arms. He should have painted your face white. Should have made it so there was a stain on his favorite shirt that he'd wear proudly because it'd tell everyone how needy you two were for each other. It'd remind everyone that he's taken by the most vicious, intelligent, and vivacious woman he's ever met. It'd remind him that you missed him that much that you couldn't bear to be apart from some part of him for too long.



He didn't though and he can't right now but tonight when you're home and laying across your shared bed maybe he can do it then and watch as your lips try and lick bits off your face. The image he paints in his mind is something else and it has him clenching the fabric of your jacket before his own hands move to play with the tops of your breasts. The action earns a low whine from you, wanting more of his large hands on you, his thumbs playing with your nipples as he kisses you. You two have to make this quick though and it shows in how Bradley's thrusts increase in speed and how he motions for you to do something— anything— with your boobs and your hands until you finally catch onto his meaning.



"You are so boob drunk, Bradley," you mutter as your hand wraps around the part of his cock not between your breasts. With every thrust up you manage a lick or two just to tease him until you see his thrusts getting messier and less controlled.



A breathless low chuckle leaves him. "Nah, just you drunk. Fuck, babe, Y/N. I'm— let him go. Gonna—"



"Cum on them. Just cum on them. I'll wipe it off."



You look up with all the confidence in the world to see him with blown out pupils and a wet lips from where he's bitten them to keep quiet. "You su—" You cut him off with an almost violent nod that has the head of his cock brushing your chin as he does. "Okay okay."



What happens next is a flurry of limbs and grunts and low whines from you and Bradley as you chase your respective highs. Bradley comes first, hips stuttering, painting your chest with his cum, pearly white and just uncontrolled enough that some lands on your lips and chin and another bit lands on your dress shirt, narrowly avoiding your jacket. Your name falls from his lips easily as you look up at him, your fingers curling just so inside of you as he reaches out to cup your cheek his brown eyes so full of love, arousal and adoration that you come with a silent cry, your body threatening to fall forward from the sheer intensity but his strong hands are there to stop you.



You both lean back— him against the wall and you on your knees- catching your breath before he moves to grab paper towels, wetting them just enough for you to clean his release off of you. He embarrassingly lets out something close to a childish whine as he watches you lick the traces of come off your lips until you raise an eyebrow at him and his hardening cock.



"When we get home." You both manage to say at the same time before letting out matching peals of laughter. After a moment where you both can't keep a straight face Bradley starts to tuck himself inside his dress pants and you start to button your shirt back up before he pulls you up with an ease that marvels you even to this day. You feel the warmth of his large hand through your shirt as he straightens it out, making sure it's regulation ready. He winces at the slight stain of his come near your shoulder before remembering you still have to get your jacket on. His hands make quick work of the buttons and he notes with pride the only sliver of come one can see is easily explained away as water.



You can't help but bite your lip at Bradley when you see him looking down at you, inspecting his handiwork. Almost as if he realizes you're staring he meets your eyes and smiles this stupid half smile that makes his mustache look far cuter than it has any right to be and has his eyes dancing with mirth.



"Come on Lieutenant Bradshaw, they're gonna notice if we stay here," he tries to school his face into something resembling a serious look before he chuckles softly.



"Aye aye, Lieutenant Bradshaw." A pause. "You can't call me by your last name yet, you know."



He shrugs, unlocking the door as he wraps his arm around your waist. "I almost died. I can do it if I want. Besides, saw your thighs tense up."



You tamp down on the urge to slap his arm playfully as your own arm moves to snake around his waist. "You're lucky I love you."



"Yeah,' he stops right before you reach the door to reenter the hall and presses you just lightly against the wall. "I love you too."

#bradley bradsaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw angst #rooster smut #rooster angst #bradley bradshaw fic

[doumadono]

Emergency request!!

Hii! How are you?? Hope you doing well! 💕

If you comfortable, can you write some jik or bnha character comforting me? I was (tw alert) r4p3d earlier this year after an college trip and I'm still recovering 🫠

You can ignore if you not comfortable enough 💕

Wishing you an Happy Christmas and New Year!

Nanami & Gojo with s/o who was raped - headcanons

A/N: I'm so saddened to hear that you went through such a traumatic experience. It takes immense strength to share something so difficult, and I want you to know that I'm here to support you in any way you need. Your recovery is a journey, and it's okay to take the time you need

JUJUTSU KAISEN EMERGENCY REQS

Nanami

Understanding the weight of the situation, Nanami might initially choose to stay silent, offering a reassuring presence without pressuring for details.

Upon discovering the harrowing truth about what she endured, Nanami's fury surges, his blood boiling with anger.

Struggling to contain his own tears, the weight of regret bears heavily on him. His cherished, precious girl has had her dignity stolen, and the realization that he couldn't shield her in that moment pains him deeply.

A profound sense of self-directed anger takes hold as Nanami berates himself for not being there when she needed protection. In the midst of this turmoil, he makes a solemn promise to himself — a commitment to eradicate those responsible for the unspeakable harm inflicted upon her.

After a moment, Nanami would express genuine concern, reassuring his girlfriend that he's there to support her in any way she needs. "I'm here, I'm here," he whispers.

Nanami might offer a subtle but comforting touch, such as holding her hand or placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Nanami would validate her feelings, letting her know that whatever emotions she's experiencing are completely valid and understandable.

Nanami would be patient, allowing her to speak at her own pace and share as much or as little as she feels comfortable with.

When she's not around, Nanami paces restlessly across the room, his mind consumed with thoughts of retribution against those who caused harm to her. "They'll fucking pay," he whispers to himself.

Gojo

Gojo would encourage open communication, letting her know that he's ready to listen without judgment whenever she's ready to talk.

Gojo might use physical affection as a way to comfort, offering hugs or holding her close to convey a sense of safety. "I'm here, babygirl, no one is going to hurt you ever again."

Sensing when she needs a break from the heaviness of the situation, Gojo might suggest a temporary escape, like watching a movie or taking a walk.

Gojo would assertively promise to do whatever it takes to ensure her safety and well-being, instilling a sense of security.

Gojo would gently assure his girlfriend, "I promise you, babe, I'm going to find those responsible for causing you this pain. No one gets away with hurting someone I care about."

She looks up at him, her eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and gratitude. "Satoru, I… I don't want you to do anything reckless."

He places a reassuring hand on her shoulder, offering a comforting smile. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I won't do anything reckless, but I won't let them go unpunished either. We'll make sure justice is served."

#emergency request #jujitsu kaisen #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk x you #nanami x you #nanami kento jjk #nanami kento imagine #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #jjk imagine #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x y/n #jjk headcanons

[show-your-fangs]

HOLY FUCK WAIT IDEA!!!!! WHAT ABOUT A TYPICAL CRIMINAL MINDS TROPE WHERE SOMETHING GOES SOUTH AND READER AND HOTCH ARE DATING BUT ITS STILL FRESH BUT SOMEHOW ONE OF THEM GETS IN TROUBLE AND WHEN IT ALL ENDS THEY HAVE ANGRY SEX BC HOW COULD THEY RISK THEIR LIFE LIKE THAT AND THEN THEY CONFESS THEIR LOVE

anon you are a fucking GOD

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU f!Reader

Words: 868

CW: 18+, nsfw, mdni, rough smut.

Tags/warnings: established relationship, mean!hotch, tiniest bit of exhibitionism, sir kink, rough unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it or at least make sure you talk it over with your partner and get tested!), love confession.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

You were bent over the hood of the SUV, your arms pulled behind your back, your skirt hiked over your ass and your panties tossed to the side as Aaron fucked you from behind. The dark country road he’d driven the two of you on your way out of the hospital deserted, even from wildlife. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” your screams filled the night air, pleasure and pain blurring together as he continued to pound into you. He didn’t care, he couldn’t care about how bad you were feeling, about how he should’ve probably not been this rough with you. But the doctor had said you didn’t have a concussion, so he’d allowed himself the leniency to be brutal. “It hurts, Aaron, please!”

But he didn’t stop. As much as you were protesting, as much as you claimed you weren’t enjoying the sadistic pace he’d set, he knew deep in his heart that you loved it. You loved it when he showed you who was in charge, who you belonged to, and he also knew that you would take this punishment for your carelessness without question.

“Being sorry is the least you can do,” he spat, words mean and heavy. “You were stupid,” he landed a powerful smack against your ass and you whimpered. “Refused to follow orders,” another blow, the sting only adding to the lightheadedness. “And almost got yourself killed!” he slapped your ass twice to emphasize his words, the weight of them, how your actions had made him feel. 

“I’m so sorry, sir,” you sobbed, tears blurring your vision, stinging your eyes. “I didn’t– I didn’t mean for that to happen I was just trying to help.”

Your voice seemed to snap him out of whatever anger fueled trance he was in. He finally took you in, your shivering body, your heavy breathing, the sobs you were desperately trying to conceal. 

He gently let go of your hands, giving you a moment to shake out your arms to relieve the pressure. He then stepped further into you, connecting your bodies as far as he could go before he leaned his chest over your back, pressing into you, enveloping you in his warmth. 

You whimpered against him, slowly but surely calming down as he ran soothing hands over your body. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered in your ear before placing a kiss on your neck. He was everywhere, you felt him everywhere, the pressure he was putting on you grounding. “I was just so scared, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You nodded, your face turning over the cool metal of the hood to face him. “’S okay,” you managed. “I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“I always worry, baby,” he confessed. “Every time you’re out in the field and I’m not there with you…it kills me.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “I worry too, Aaron,” he kissed your cheek before pressing his own tightly against your temple. “I know you’re this…this confident and strong person but I still worry something might happen and you won’t come home to me.”

The thought alone terrified him. He’d been so consumed by his own fear, his own feelings that he hadn’t stopped to think about how you could possibly feel the same way about him. His heart ached, his cock twitched inside of you and you clenched around him. 

“I’ll always come home to you, baby,” he said, gently rocking his hips into you, slow and soft thrusts to show you exactly how he was feeling. “You know why?”

You shook your head, your brain slowly disconnecting from your body as he resumed his previous movements. Only this time they were precise, calculated, meant to pleasure solely. His hand snaked into the front of your panties and his fingers began to lazily rub circles over your clit. 

“Because I love you, and there is no way I’m ever going to let anything keep me from coming back to you,” he confessed and all you could do was moan in response. Your sounds egged him on, made him pick up his pace just a little bit. “Tell me you love me,” he commanded, his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

You squealed, the sensation uncomfortable and painful once more. 

“I love you, Aaron,” you slurred, anything to make it stop. He pulled back then, chest overflowing with warmth, heart beating faster than ever before. He rammed back into you, his thrusts moving in tandem with his fingers. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you whined, your brain too far gone to think of anything else to say. 

Your walls constricted around him, your body tensed and he knew you were close. “Cum for me, come on, show me how much you love me.”

You came undone in seconds, powerful waves of pleasure washing through you and against him. He managed a few more thrusts before he sank himself in you, painting your walls with his spend. 

He held onto you tightly, like his life depended on it, gently caressing your body as you both came down from your highs. “I love you so much, baby.”

I need a fucking cigarette dude.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #show your fangs writes #aaron hotchner fanfiction #show your fangs asks #mean!hotch #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner blurb #show your fangs hotch blurbs

[ultraacherries]

Need - jude bellingham 🍒

this is my first time writing a fic so my grammar and spelling is horrible lol i’m open to criticism so feel free to tell me what i should improve on !! if you want to leave suggestion all feel free !!

Him wanting you was an understatement.

He needed you.

He needed to ruin you in every way possible.

He needed to undress the innocence that wrapped around you like a cloth and taint you with every sin known to man.

He needed to break every part of you and then piece you back together with love that is on the edge of consuming him.

The lustful attention thrown at you did nothing to sedate the thoughts of having you to himself, your very being belonging to him. Only him.

Everyone could see it, from his unwavering longing gazes, to his protective touches, everyone but you. Your oblivious nature didn’t mean your feelings towards him were platonic like they once were.

You started to feel a sudden shift when Jude moved to real madrid, his confidence and physique filled you with an indescribable feeling, one you’ve never felt before, his friendship was always something you treasured dearly but now you found yourself craving for something more.

You might be oblivious however he wasn’t. He saw the way you’d blush when he’d hold your hand protectively guiding you through a crowd or when you clenched your thighs together as you watch him working out. But he knew you wasn’t ready, although your thoughts mirrored his, your thoughts were clouded with confusion as to what these emotions were. He was willing to wait for you, rejecting the urge to destroy his years of self control.

That was until he saw you in Rodrygo’s embrace after a match. Jude gathered his things ready to finally see you and sink into your warm presence only to find you with someone else.He was aware that your relationship is nothing more than a “platonic pair”, but his self control cracked as unreasonable rage consumed him.

You felt a hand dragging you out of the stadium, into the parking lot and pulled you into the passenger seat, to then sit on the opposite side without a word.(pretend jude has his license lol)

You were about to question what the hell just happened but his clenched jaw and tight grip on the steering wheel made you hesitate a little. After a few minutes of silence you mustered up the courage to ask.

“Jude are you mad at me” you said quietly. He turned towards you with a dark look that softened a little as soon as he saw the soft gaze directed at him almost forgetting that you where in the arms of another.

He turned away refusing to let your eyes deter him and asked “what were you doing with Rodrygo baby” his calm tone that once offered you comfort now fills you with unease.

“Rodrygo is also my friend Jude i was congratulating him on the win” you tilt your head in confusion you didn’t see why you need to offer an explanation.

He lets out a sarcastic laugh that made a shiver run down your spine but that didn’t stop your frustration.

“ i don’t see why you have an issue with this you don’t-” he cuts you off.

“finish that sentence Y/N go on i dare you”

your mouth clamps shut in submission surprising the hell out of you. He exists the car and walks over to your side and opens it. Even his rage couldn’t stop him from taking care of you and it made your heart flutter in your chest.

He takes your hand taking you up to the hotel room where you were staying until you two return back home from Barcelona. He swipes the card key opening the door and pushes you onto the wall beside it.

“Jude ” you’re silenced by the hand the creeps up to your waist. You can feel the anger vibrate off of him and form into a state of desperation.

“i love it when you say my name baby it drives me fucking crazy, ” his voice filled with a need that mirrored your own.

“jude-” he groans which makes your body fill with warmth and shock.

“did his arms feel this good y/n” he questions as he rests his head in the crook of your neck, his breath ticking the special spot that made squirm.

“n-no” his hands go up his jersey that you were wearing and he rests them on your stomach. The heat of your body clashes with his cool skin leaving your mind hazy.

“you’re already gone, and i’ve barely touched you sweetheart” he chuckles in a way you found so attractive it made you freeze in his hold. This was wrong he was your friend.

“jude ”you whine and his grip on you tightens.

“hmm” he groans into your neck again heightening your arousal.

“friends don’t” you were to shy to carry on, to admit what’s happening between the two of you. However, Jude wanted to hear you say it. He needed to hear you say it.

“best friends don’t what ? i wanna hear you say it baby go on” he looked up at you but his gaze was too much to bare so you look away.

“b-best friends don’t touch each other like this” you stuttered. Deep down he knew you were right but his frustration was clouding his judgment.

Your chest moving with every breath, the slight tremble your body omits is enough for him to bend you over right now and have his way with you.

"okay then ill back away and we will pretend this didnt happen" his voice so soft it sounded like a whisper, he saw the disappointment quickly surround the lust in your eyes. Jude felt his shorts tighten around him begging for release.

"is that what you want y/n you want us to be just friends?" he taunts as he raises those hands further up your body. God those hands drove you crazy you never want him to let you go.

The undiscribable feelings you felt now made sense, you wanted everything he wanted to give you, forgetting and remaining in the comfort of friendship was the last thing you desire.

You desire him. The words you want to say were stuck in your throat, the ability to express them were always denied in his presence, so you look away only for him to turn your head so you can face him again.

" nah baby i want you looking straight at me" his grip on your chin is firm. His eyes overwhelmed with determination. "tell me" he says.

"i-i dont want that jude" he gives you a nod in encouragement telling you to go on, which makes you drip with arousal and confidence which leads you to utter;

"i want you jude" you take step closer even though it was impossible with how intertwined your bodies were.

" i need you jude" you whimper in his hold as he moans at the juxtaposing innocence and lust swimming in your eyes. He brings you into a long awaited kiss that conveying the burning desire and desperation, making you both dizzy.

Jude’s thoughts we’re preoccupied with one thing…

You needed him.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #fanfic #footballer x reader #jude bellingham x y/n #first time writing #help idk what im doing

[misscheavus]

(( REMINDER ))

I KNOW YOU’RE MAD // BUT SHE AIN’T EVEN WORTH NONE OF MY TIME

PAIRING: Jealous(?) Minah Lee x F!Reader (referred to as ‘girlfriend’ and ‘girl’)

WARNINGS: I wrote Redy a not the greatest person and I apologise for that, but the plot needed it D: (Not proofread (sorry)), swearing

LENGTH: 1,340+ words

This is a work of fiction and is in no way a reflection, description or depiction of any person(s) in real life. Images and names are merely used as placeholders in this work. You are responsible for the media that you consume.

Minah couldn’t help herself, rolling her eyes as she watched the interaction unfold in front of her. Maybe Bada’s beef with Redy wasn’t as unfounded as the team she thought. Fuck, at this rate, she might join her leader in her view of the 1Million dancer.

She watched as Redy brushed your hair away from your face, running her hand down your arm as she drowned you in compliments so obnoxiously loud that Minah could hear her from across the stage: “Oh my gosh, you’re so talented!” “I’m so envious of how your body moves!” “Your body is so incredible! You must work out lots to be so strong and pretty.” “You’re so flexible! You’ll have to show me sometime.”

Minah almost gagged.

And maybe she did because Bada turns from her spot in front of the girl, an eyebrow raised and stupid, knowing smirk plastered on her face.

“You good?” Bada places a hand on the younger’s knee, squeezing gently. Minah simply scoffed, not wanting to dignify her feelings with a response. Unfortunately for her, that was more than enough of an answer for the leader. She laughed, turning away from the girl and joining Minah in observing the situation in front of them develop. Bada tilts her head, looking back up and noticing Minah purposefully looking away, the tips of her ears red. “She looks uncomfortable, Minah. That’s more what I’d be worried about.” Bada hums, leaning back on her hands.

It’s almost comical how quickly Minah’s head snaps back to watch you closely.

It’s not like you were dating… well, you weren’t exclusive (yet). But you were something, right? Minah wasn’t even sure if she had any right feeling the emotions she was feeling… but focusing back in on the two of you and the way you were reacting to the other dancer made her emotions feel more justified.

She felt heat claw up her neck, wrapping around her chest tightly the more she watched. Even though you were giggling and seemed to be playing along… something looked off. Minah leaned forward, observing… almost waiting for the other dancer to make a wrong move and let her pounce.

You moved back quickly, just out of immediate reach of Redy’s overly touchy hands as she seemed to reach for your face again. Minah watches you bow, putting more distance between you, eyes darting away from the forward woman and thanking her for whatever stupid shit she said. You scratch your forearm, gulping obviously as you try to shuffle back.

Bada was right. You were uncomfortable. And Minah wasn’t going to sit opposite you and let you be uncomfortable.

She stands abruptly, Bada leaning out of the way and letting the younger step past her.

Minah has tunnel vision; seeing nothing but you, trying to politely turn Redy’s advances down. It’s even worse because your team can’t even understand what’s being said to help you out. “Oh, thank you for the offer, but I’m not interested. We’re really busy, and I’ve already got someone in my life…” She hears your quiet response as she gets closer.

‘…Did she ask you out?’ The anger bubbles over inside Minah. She all but storms up to the pair, arms crossed intimidatingly. “She’s saying no, Redy. She’s uncomfortable. Leave her alone. You got your answer.” Minah’s bluntness is a welcome relief. You quietly let out a sigh as Minah stands in front of you, feeling the weight lift slightly off your chest.

“Sorry, were you involved in our conversation? I don’t think you were, actually-“ Redy starts, moving closer to you again.

“I am because you’re coming onto my girlfriend. And I’d really suggest backing up before things get bad for you. Quickly.” Minah’s eyes are narrowed, chest puffed as she takes a step closer. You look over at Redy, her eyes now wide as she puts the pieces together. You quietly apologise to the girl, before standing and taking Minah’s arm and leading her off-set and into an unoccupied corridor backstage.

“No, let me back at her. I swear to God-“

You place both hands on Minah’s shoulders, squeezing gently. That stops her rage for a moment, finally focusing on you. “Are you okay? She didn’t touch you, did she? I know you were uncomfortable… I just…” Minah’s eyes closed for a moment, trying to calm herself.

“I really shouldn’t find you that attractive when you’re jealous and overprotective.” Minah’s eyes pop open, looking at you incredulously.

“I was not jealous. I-“

Before she can open her mouth to keep lying, you answer her questions, “She only touched my arm, and I’m okay. Just… unsettled? Sorry, you had to help me deal with her. I just… didn’t know how to stop her without coming across as rude. You did a good job though.” You smile, hands deftly sliding up her shoulders and to her face, cupping her cheeks.

Minah brings her hands to rest over yours, sighing. “Don't apologise, baby. Just be rude. I hate watching people try and take advantage of your kindness. Especially like that. Bitch.” She hissed the last word quietly, feeling your fingers tap her cheek in response to her choice of words. The anger Minah had before fills her body for a moment before it softens as she meets your eyes. You take a step closer, Minah’s hands now dropping to your waist, thumbs caressing your skin. She sighs, “I… sorry. I hate seeing you uncomfortable, even a little bit. I care about you too much to see you like that…”

You’re both quiet for a moment, simply enjoying each other's presence; Minah squeezes your waist as she tries to calm down again, ignoring the nagging feeling in her heart as her brain keeps replaying the events of before over and over. Redy's hands on your face, your arms... She bites her lip, suppressing her internal desire to go back out and-

“So… girlfriend, huh?” You can’t help but tease the girl in front of you, breaking her building bitterness, laughing as she groans and rests her head against your shoulder. You bring a hand up and stroke the back of her head, still giggling. “I liked it before you apologise. You should introduce me like that more often.” You feel Minah’s body tense before she pulls back to look at you.

“Yeah?” She smiles so cutely you can feel your heart race at her beauty, “You wanna be my girlfriend? You’ll be mine?” You return her loving smile, resting your foreheads together. “Mhm. As long as you’ll be mine.” Minah all but smirks at your reply, pulling back a little further and resting her palm on the back of your neck and brings you in. The glint in her eyes as her gaze drops to your lips giving you all the answers you need as she closes the distance between you.

————

About 10 minutes later, you both emerge, back at the ring, hands entwined. Minah walks you back to your crew, squeezing your hand once more before returning to Bebe. Bada and Lusher stifle a laugh, Tatter motioning for the younger to come to them. Reaching up, Tatter wipes away smeared lipstick from the corner of Minah’s swollen lips. “Maybe next time you get all macho for your girl, look in a mirror before you come back?” The three giggle as they adjust Minah’s jacket and hair, askew and mused from your hands.

“Poor girl, did you maul her in, like, five minutes?” Lusher chuckles, noticing the already darkening mark on your neck from across the room… on the side of your neck that faced the 1Million crew.

Minah can’t even bring herself to be embarrassed, looking over at you and sending you a cheeky wink, before meeting Redy's eyes. Minah raises an eyebrow, wiping her lips and smirking at the elder, unable to stop herself from mouthing a quick 'mine' and glancing in your direction. She can't help relishing in how quickly Redy averts her eyes from both of you, laughing quietly.

Yeah, this was way better than her plan about 15 minutes ago.

#Minah Lee #minah Lee x reader #Minah x reader #Minah Lee imagine #Minah Lee fic #minah imagine #Minah Bebe #swf fic #swf2 x reader #swf2 fic #swf2 #kpop imagines #bada lee x reader #bada x reader

[cononeillbreastingboobily]

Thoughts and feelings about Izzy in s2ep4 and what it means to me as a fellow disabled person:

Yeah, so, that episode, huh?

You know, I already knew going into this new season that Izzy's storyline is going to hit me hard regardless of the exact little plot points it might have, but it's only now, several hours after I've watched eps 4&5 that I'm really starting to digest what his story means to me in it's current shape. This is... a bit long. I also mention a character from a different show - Isaac from Sex Education.

Izzy has always been a bit of a dick, right? That's the reason a lot of people hated him in the first season.

Well, now he is a bit of a dick and disabled. And let me tell you how fucking ecstatic I am about that.

You see, looking for disabled characters in media I consume has rarely been gratifying - if they are there at all, which already is rare, they have very little to do, and if they're even semi-important, they're almost always the epitomes of goodness. Nice, understanding, quiet, patient.

Barely there.

The first time I truly felt something change in this area was with the appearance of Isaac in Netflix's Sex Education. He's sarcastic, funny, talented, honest and mean.

The fandom of that show hated Isaac, let me tell you.

It was mostly because he took direct action to separate the main ship of the show that had many people obsessed. As you'd expect. People's ableism immediately jumped out. As you'd expect.

Because how dare he have his own motivations and wants, and to do what he thinks is right?

Barely there.

And now we have Izzy. Izzy, who also did what he thought was right, which in s1 of the show was trying to separate Ed and Stede. He wasn't trying to make himself too likeable at any point (well. when the crew almost mutinied on him in s1 he did do a last ditch effort but. you remember how well that went).

My point is that now we have someone who isn't particularly nice, and now he's dealing with a sudden loss of ability in his body, which is going to make him even worse. He's angry! Of course he is! He's hobbling around with half a leg gone, humiliated, exhausted, barely recovered from impromptu amputation, no anesthesia. And a suicide attempt! He's angry at himself, his body, at Ed, at Stede, at God if he still believes in one, and who knows who else.

He isn't suddenly going to become nicer to people just because. He doesn't need to be humbled.

(a little sidenote: I do not accept the reasoning that Izzy somehow deserved to lose his leg, that "oh what did he expect riling up Ed when he was heartbroken?" etc. He wasn't expecting to get shot in the fucking leg. Nobody fucking deserves that, and if you think that Ed shooting him in the leg and Izzy subsequently having to have it amputated was an "appropriate punishment" for "what he's done", you're just cruel and wrong. Now scram.)

But that's the point. Disabled people deserve help regardless of whether or not we are nice.

Thankfully (not from Izzy's point of view - his pride was definitely bruised in that moment) the crew saw him struggle, and acted in kind. Because Izzy is their dick. And now - also their unicorn.

And it means so much to me that we get the representation of disabled people who thrash around and rattle the bars of their societal cages, furious at the world that isn't welcoming to us, and receive love and care and an invitation to a loving community regardless.

We shouldn't have to be here just when ableds are ready to give. We aren't meek vessels for your good will. Izzy is such a painfully realistic (as far as the universe of the show permits, given it's unavoidable goofiness) portrayal of the anger of someone who's lost some of their body's past ability, and how one might deal with it.

And I really wanted to say something about that, because I'm afraid it might get lost in the discussion about the more popular and more easily digestible aspects of the show.

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #long post #disability #ableism #disability in media #tw suicide attempt #ofmd meta #ofmd s2 meta

[mindyco]

Man, I've been daydreaming about this scenario all fucking day long but I've only now gotten the chance to actually type my thoughts out. I tried my best to write out their biggest fears, but I'm not sure if I got it exact. Artwork credit: @Somebody-1

Scenario: How do they respond when you ask them, "Are you okay?"

Lucifer:

At first, Lucifer raises an eyebrow and gives you a skeptical look as if questioning your motives.

He then puts on a composed facade, straightens his posture, and clears his throat.

Lucifer responds with a cool and slightly annoyed tone, "Of course, I'm fine. I'm always fine. There's no need to worry about me."

Deep down, he appreciates your concern and the fact that you took the time to ask. It subtly warms his heart.

"Rest assured, I appreciate your concern. It's nice to know that someone cares enough to ask how I'm doing."

Mammon:

Mammon's reaction is instant and exaggerated. He dramatically clutches his chest and feigns a dramatic swoon.

He quickly recovers and gives you a sheepish grin, trying to brush off any concern.

Mammon puffs out his chest, striking a pose, and boasts, "Me? The Great Mammon? I'm more than okay! I'm magnificent!"

However, his voice falters slightly, and he averts his gaze for a moment. "Well, maybe sometimes I... worry about not being good enough, ya know? That I won't live up to everyone's expectations."

Mammon's tone becomes softer as he continues, "But knowing that you asked if I'm okay, it's like a ray of light in the darkness. It reminds me that there are people who see me for who I am and care about me."

He quickly regains his confidence and grins, nudging you playfully. "But don't worry, I'll always bounce back! After all, I'm the Great Mammon!"

Leviathan:

Leviathan initially avoids eye contact, fidgeting with his sleeves and mumbling something incomprehensible.

Leviathan's response is a mixture of embarrassment and relief. He scratches the back of his head, looking away, and stammers, "Uh, me? I'm okay, I guess. Just doing my usual stuff... games, anime, you know."

There's a hint of vulnerability in his voice as he continues, "But sometimes, it gets a bit lonely, you know? I mean, I have my demons and all, but... it's different. I wish I could connect with people better."

Leviathan's eyes meet yours, and he smiles shyly. "But when you asked if I'm okay, it's like a tiny spark of hope. Maybe I can find my place, my own little world where I truly belong."

He takes a deep breath, his enthusiasm growing. "And hey, maybe we can watch some anime together sometime! It would be really cool to have someone to share my hobbies with!"

Satan:

Satan's response is thoughtful, with a touch of vulnerability. He adjusts his glasses and replies, "Am I okay? Well, intellectually, I am always in control of my emotions and thoughts."

His expression softens as he continues, "But you see, there's something that often troubles me. It's the fear of losing control, of letting my anger consume me and harm those around me."

Satan's voice becomes more earnest as he looks at you, his eyes filled with genuine concern. "So when you asked if I'm okay, it's like a reassurance that there are people who believe in me, who see beyond my flaws and trust me to keep my darkness in check."

He smiles appreciatively. "Thank you for caring, it means a great deal to me. It reminds me that I am capable of being better and that my demons can be tamed."

Asmodeus:

Asmo's eyes widen, and he immediately puts on an exaggerated pout. "Oh, darling, you're too kind! I'm always fabulous, but it's so sweet of you to ask."

He strikes a pose and giggles. "But seriously, there are days when I might not feel my absolute best. You know, the occasional bad hair day or a fashion mishap. It's not often, mind you, but it happens even to someone as glamorous as me!"

Asmo's tone turns more sincere as he continues. "But beyond the superficial, there are moments when I worry about not being good enough, not living up to the expectations I set for myself. I strive for perfection in every aspect of my life, and sometimes it feels like a never-ending pursuit."

He reaches out to gently touch your hand, a touch of vulnerability in his eyes. "So, when you ask if I'm okay, it's a reminder that I am more than just my appearance or my accomplishments. It reminds me that I am loved and accepted for who I am, flaws and all. And that means the world to me."

Beelzebub:

He rubs his stomach and lets out a sheepish smile, saying, "Well, I'm hungry as always, but that's not what's on my mind right now. There's something more important."

He looks around to make sure no one else is listening and leans in closer, his voice lowered. "Lately, I've noticed my brothers haven't been themselves. They've been acting a bit off, and it's been bothering me."

Beelzebub's eyes reflect his deep concern as he continues, "I know they try to put on a brave face, but I can see through it. Something's been weighing on their minds, and I want to help if I can."

He pauses for a moment, contemplating, before a determined look crosses his face. "I'll make sure to keep an eye on them and be there for them when they need it. After all, that's what brothers are for."

Beelzebub's appreciation for your question is evident as he says, "Thanks for asking, it means a lot to me. Knowing that someone cares about my brothers as much as I do gives me hope that we can overcome whatever's troubling them."

Belphegor:

Belphegor's response is laid-back, with a hint of concern. He leans against a nearby wall, yawning, and replies, "Am I okay? Well, I'm the avatar of sloth, so I'm pretty much always okay, even when I'm sleeping."

His expression turns serious as he continues, "But you know, there's something that does bother me from time to time. It's the fear of missing out, of being left behind or forgotten."

Belphegor glances at his brothers, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "So when you asked if I'm okay, it's like a reminder that someone cares about me and that I'm not alone in this chaotic world. It helps ease that nagging feeling and brings me comfort."

He chuckles and stretches lazily. "But don't worry, I'll always be here, keeping an eye on my brothers and enjoying my own little moments of peace."

～𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

#Obey me #belphie #beel #lucifer #satan #asmo #levi #x reader #fluffy #comfort #cute #headcannon #obey me headcanons #obey me comfort

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 19

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, car sex, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You nestle down on the couch. The house is quiet and dark, only the low glare of the television lighting the front room as you listen to the drone of your favourite Drew Barrymore movie. A shiver rolls through you as you recall the last night you spent in this house, the one that ended in the wet grass.

You still don't know what you were thinking and yet the temptation lingers. You're listless, still lost in the sea of Lloyd's making.

You keep a pillow between your legs to ease the pain in your hips. Ever constant but more obvious with the growing weight of your stomach. You fear one bad night might have you once again bedbound. As if pregnancy isn't uncomfortable enough. You already feel helpless, even without a fetus sucking the life from you.

You rest your hand on your belly and bend your arm under your head. You and Colin never wanted a kid. You liked it just the two of you. You did. Apparently it wasn't enough for him. You sigh away the thought. You shouldn't think about him so much but a whole decade can't just fade away in the bat of an eye. Even Lloyd's.

"So, you're not comin' to bed," he frightens you as he shadow looms behind the couch, hands on the back as he bends slightly over you.

"Yours? No," you answer bluntly, recentering your vision on the television.

He huffs, "I know you're mad but--"

"I'm restless. I can't sleep because the baby..." you retort, "the baby you cursed me with."

"The baby you don't give a fuck about, apparently. Your self-preservation is not your strongest suit, you know?"

He crosses his arms over the back of the couch as he stoops lower. You sniff and let it out slow. You could strangle him, slap him, spit in his face. It's always your fault, he can do no wrong. You didn't ask for any of this. He knows that. If anything, he basks in that fact.

He hums, "it's cold upstairs. And this couch isn't the best for sleeping."

"Are you tryna be a good guy? Too late for that."

"I'm trying to make it up to you--"

You snarl and push yourself up, an awkwardly struggle to roll onto your back that undermines the anger within.

You sneer up at him, "make what up? That you humiliated me? Drag me around the mall and flirt with young girls in front of me? You're the same fucking pervert I met in the shop. Actually, you've proven yourself a lot worse," you snap. "Oh or are you sorry for shoving your dick down my throat until I gagged? You never seemed to mind that before. Wait, wait, I keep forgetting, I said his name. Wow, my god, fuck me for wanting to feel something. Anything!"

You swing your legs over the side of the couch and stand with a grunt, bracing your lower back, "leave me the fuck alone, Lloyd. Mommy's got you presentable but you can't fool me."

"Look, we were both wrong. But you didn't need to try to off yourself. You're not a weak bitch. I know that--"

"Oh, you think that's a compliment," you stomp away. "You'll have to try harder, if you ever try hard at anything besides being a fucking prick."

"Nah, that comes naturally," he follows you into the kitchen. You distract yourself with the fridge as you open it to search for a snack, "you should stay away from too much sugar--"

"Don't you even dare right now," you bark as you let the door shut and roll open the freezer drawer, "ah, here we go."

You take out the tub of rocky road and plop it on the counter. You fish out a spoon and peel off the lid. You stab the spoon into the frozen cylinder and dig away at it impatiently.

"I said sorry--"

"Because mommy told you," you scrape away a spoonful, "I don't fucking buy it, Lloyd. I know you. A little better than I want to."

"Uh, yeah, we are married so--"

"Don't remind me," you shove the spoon in your mouth and lick it clean, "it's a walking nightmare. Not like I don't have enough of the normal kind. Every time I close my eyes, I see your stupid fucking mustache and hear your dumb fucking voice--"

"I'm flattered."

"Of course you are. You're ego can't process what I'm saying," you jab the spoon down again, frustrated as you try to get past the hard surface to a chunk of chocolate.

He's quiet as he watches you. He moves closer, hand dragging across the counter. You focus on fighting the icy quart.

"I was tryna make you jealous. Those girls aren't my type, you know that."

"Not making it better," you growl and turn on him, raising the spoon, "get away from me before I scoop your eye out."

"I'd like to see you try, sweet cheeks," he laughs, "come on, I'm pouring out my heart here, peaches. I only want you, you know that."

"You're an idiot."

He inhales and turns, reaching up to the cupboard and opening the door. He takes out a bowl then slides out the drawer, grabbing the scoop. He runs it under warm water and grabs the tub of ice cream, carving out several balls of rocky road and putting it before you.

"There."

"I don't need your help."

"You need me, whether you want to accept it or not," he insists, "and," he turns to lean on the counter and crosses his arms, dipping his chin down, "indoo."

"Indoo? What gibberish--"

"I need you," he throws a hand up as he raises his head, "okay? Got it?"

You look at him as you spoon up the ice cream. You take a long taste as you consider his avoidant posture. He refuses to even glance in your direction.

"You don't get to just take everything. You, the baby," he talks with his hand, but not to you, "I don't get to find you dead on the lawn. That's not how this works."

"I know exactly how it works, Lloyd, why do you think I went out there?"

"Because you're stubborn as fuck," he snorts, "and that's exactly why I like you, peaches."

You send the sudden movement and you turn, deflecting his hand away from your ass. You tut and point the spoon at him, "ice cream and humble pie isn't gonna wipe the slate clean."

"Can you acknowledge that I'm trying?"

"I can acknowledge that you gave me a snack," you take the bowl and prance away.

"Not gonna return the favour, though, huh?" He trails after you.

"You try to touch me again, and I'll bite something off," you flop onto the couch, "go back to bed, give me some space. That's what you can do for me."

He looms and lets out another heavy breath, "are you gonna come to bed? Eventually?"

You don't look at him, opting instead to stare at the carnival scene playing out on television, "dunno."

He's quiet as he shifts on his feet, "I love this movie, you know? Had a big thing for Drew--"

"Go away," you say sharply, "or did you want me to go sleep in the yard?"

"Fine, fine," he raises his hands, "but... I'm just putting it out there that I changed the sheets and it's all nice and cozy and soft for you. I even freshened up my stache--"

"I'm going to throw this at you in ten seconds," you snarl, "and I'm not gonna be happy about the wasted ice cream."

"Sorry, mistress," he says coyly as he steps back on his heel, "whenever you're ready to spank me--"

You chuck the spoon in his direction and he dodges with a cackle. You shake your head as he quickly retreats.

"I'll be waiting with cheeks ready," he tosses back with another snicker.

"Fucking idiot," you growl as you put the bowl down, droplets of ice cream across your shirt from the angry hurl.

You shake your head as you listen to him go. How the fuck does he always wriggle his way out of these things? Well, you're not gonna let him off that easy.

#unexpected #lloyd hansen x reader #dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #drabble #dark drabble #series #dark!drabble #the gray man

[fanandfiction]

For Lunch

How Arcane Characters Would Eat You Out... (part 2)

Summary: A balanced diet usually consists of three meals a day. Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner. Which will you be joining us for today?

AN: Surprise, I live! One minute I’m having a manic episode, writing every day for a whole two weeks, the next thing I know 4 months go by and my will to live has been completely nonexistent. Don’t you fear though bc low incomes got your back and for the time being I’ve got my ✨sparkle✨ back! (take your medication kids! you wouldn’t have it if you didn’t need it!)

Word Count: 2.06k words

Warnings: +18 MDNI, Cunnilingus, Oral (F receiving), Fingering, Cheating, Overstimulation, Jayce is a switch lmao, Threesome, F/F/M, Mild Exhibitionism, Mild Voyeurism, Spanking, Corruption kink, Mild Dubious Consent.

Characters: F! Reader, Jayce (ft Mel), Cassandra, Silco, Vi. (You can tell who my favorites are 😣)

THERE IS NSFW CONTENT BELOW THE CUT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Cassandra sips a glass of red wine from her office balcony most mornings. As the councilwoman’s secretary, you usually scurry around the office or run small errands for her in the city.  Some days, when her silly little husband or naive daughter works her nerves just right, Cassandra needs to release her pent-up frustration. That’s where you come in. It’s your job to alleviate her stress and workload; what better way to relieve stress than having your secretary bent over your desk for brunch? You were always so good to her, never causing her the stress her daughter did, always willing to try the things her husband would shy away from.

One of Cassandra’s dainty gloved hands massages your ass, squeezing the supple flesh as her other hand is lodged in your sopping pussy, slowly fucking you with her long, slender fingers. It’s a privilege to have an audience with the councilwoman like this, so if you want to cum, you must beg for her, she says. At the same time, she’ll exhale lightly against your clit, teasing you all the more. You have no choice but to beg for her, not that you weren’t seconds away from dissolving in a blubbering mess anyway. The stimulation from her fingers alone was divine, but they were nowhere near enough to get you close to the edge. So you do, like a pathetic little puppy, you beg for her. You plead for her to let her anger and frustration out on you.

            “Please, Miss,” you whimper. “Use me, give me all your stress. I’ll take it, all of it.” 

 If Cassandra’s feeling nice, she’s quick to give you what you asked so nicely for.  She’ll move you to your back with your legs spread to make it easier on her own - you will never catch the counselor on her knees for anyone. She’s quick to press her de-gloved fingers back into your pulsing entrance, her mouth joining them this time, nibbling and suckling your clit. You try your hardest not to scream in pleasure- the last thing you want to do is alert someone to what is happening. But with all her stimulation, you can feel yourself tumbling toward the edge. Failure is inevitable, and you moan loudly when your orgasm consumes you. 

Cassandra slows for maybe a minute as you're coming to, your pussy is pulsing around her fingers, and you’re trying to flinch away from how sensitive you feel, but she’s not stopping. She chuckles into you, steadying you with her free hand, “I’m still very frustrated, my dear. And we haven’t even gotten to the main course. I’m afraid you might need to readjust my schedule after lunch.” 

Jayce would have you at the grand table in the conference hall after a relatively gruesome meeting. He would claim that after such a long boring conference, he needed a snack- he was “just absolutely famished.” You were quick to offer yourself to him, and he wasn’t hesitant to accept your offer. Jayce happily lapped at your cunt, savoring your juices almost as if he had been without food and water for weeks. There was nothing more Jayce wanted than to taste your sweet release, and he had you close to cumming relatively quickly. Jayce is incredibly skilled with his mouth; while his tongue works dutifully, leaving long broad strokes through your folds, one of his hands stimulates your clit. His thumb circles it without remorse, and you’re sure you’re falling apart then and there. But to your surprise and dismay, he halts his movements. 

“Well, don’t stop now that you’ve gotten caught,” Councilwoman Medarda stood tall and as elegant as ever in the doorway. You didn’t hear her come in. In shock, you try to get up, but Jayce halts you. Heeding her wishes, Jayce continues, holding you in place with his free hand. 

“I- Councilwoman- I-I’m sorry!” You squeak, trying to shuffle away from the persistent counselor between your legs. 

She strolls into the room, her hips delightfully swaying as she makes her way to join you. “Don’t be. You’re not the one in trouble- What a good aide you’ve been, helping this greedy dog get his fix,” Mel says. She stands in the inner portion of the table, near your head, peering down at you. She reaches down and begins gently massaging your breasts. “I think if the poor dog wants to eat so bad, we should let him eat, and eat, and eat until his heart's content.” 

There's no time for you to ponder or even process what she means. Your first orgasm comes crashing over you as Jayce takes your clit between his lips and pushes his fingers into your dripping heat. He doesn’t stop, and you can quickly feel the familiar tension returning in your lower abdomen. You attempt and fail to choke back sobs from the overstimulation. His fingers thrust in and out of you with remarkable precision and consistency. As you cum a second time, Mel comforts you by wiping the sweat from your brow and cooing gently in your ear. “There, there. If you waste all your tears night now, you won’t have any for the main event.”

Silco was a busy, busy man. It’s hard work running the undercity and raising a daughter with a loaded, trauma-filled past. So naturally, after a relatively long week of chem barron negotiations that went virtually nowhere, Silco’s patience was wearing thin. He didn’t have time to entertain you or put up with your bratty antics. That, however, has never stopped you, and you don’t take neglect from your beloved too well. If anything, it makes it ten times harder on Silco. You ramp up your brattiness and constantly interrupt his work until he snaps, deciding nothing can move forward until you’re punished. 

Paper and pens are strewn off his large oak desk in seconds, and your body replaces them just as quickly. You're bent over the cold surface, standing on the tip of your toes as you present yourself to him. Your knuckles pale as your grip tightens in anticipation around the edge of the desk. “Is this what you wanted, my attention?” Silco says as he makes quick work of discarding your undergarments. You hum “yes” happily when the cool air hits your sopping cunt. 

“Well, now you’ve got it, my little dove,” he says, groping and massaging the globes of your ass. Don’t be fooled. Silco isn’t letting you off scot-free. Not after all the strife you’ve caused him. His right hand lifts from your ass, and before you have time to register what he might do with it, it’s coming back down hard against your behind. You let out a surprised squeak, tensing when Silco grabs the tingling flesh.  

“ Count them,” he says simply. With little warning, the next one comes down as ruthlessly as the first. 

One, two, three, four, five. You heed his command and count each one. Every harsh slap is heavy and quick, causing your breath to become quick and shallow. 

Your ass is on fire, but that doesn’t stop your pussy from clenching desperately around nothing. As Silco harshly squeezes your burning flesh, his thumb makes its way to massage your tight button hole and your pussy entrance, teasing you. You whine and whither in his grasp. “Do you need something?” Silco’s low vibrato causes shivers to run down your spine. 

“ I need you, please,” you whimper pathetically. 

“We’ll get there, dove…Right now, we’re teaching you a thing or two about patience,” You can feel Silco’s warm breath graze against your entrance. “Keep counting.” He says as laps at your pussy.

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. He slaps your neglected left side just as aggressively as the other. Both sides tingle, radiating heat as Silco devours you. It’s hard for you to focus, but you manage all while grinding back into Silco’s mouth. 

Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Silco can tell you’re close by how you tense around his tongue, and your legs start quivering. He moves to suck on your sensitive clit, and you grind backward onto his nose. Moments later you're tipping over the edge, Silco guiding you through every second of pleasure. 

Once you’ve caught your breath, Silco retreats, you don’t dare to move or get up. You hear him lick his wet lips and the metal buckle of his pants come undone. “Now onto the main course, my dove.” 

Due to her hostile nature, Vi had spent the first several years of her sentence alone within the concrete walls of Stillwater. The only human interaction she’d had was between meal times when the guards would bring her a tray of gray slop and stale bread or during hygiene hour when she is granted daily access to the showers. One day that changed, instead of being delivered the usual atrocity that was lunch, you’re delivered. Whether it be because her behavior improved or because the prison had reached a certain capacity, Vi didn’t know. When she got a good look at you, she quickly decided she was grateful to have a new cellmate either way. 

This innocence radiated from you, something Vi craved and hadn’t had for a long time. Something about you just screams, “she doesn’t belong here.” There's no way you were in this shit hole on anything more than petty charges, false ones even, Vi pondered. 

You fall into your place in the natural hierarchy so easily as well. Vi didn’t have to fight or intimidate you for anything. She was in charge from the beginning. Food, necessities- anything she asks of you, you give her. You never ask much of it. She kept peering guards off your back and ensured no bigger fish came to snatch you up. Although, maybe you should’ve been more aware of the peering eyes just behind you or the monster sleeping above you, waiting for the perfect moment to devour you whole. 

Before long, the tension you seem too naive to notice becomes almost overbearing for Vi. She’d asked you to scrub her down in the shower, wash her hair, and dry her off. You had done so dutifully, assuming the way she twitched beneath your fingers was due to stress and fatigue. It wasn’t until you found yourself face down against the cool bathroom counter and stripped of your lower garments that you considered anything else. 

“V-Vi!?” you stammer. Alarmed, you begin to thrash, trying desperately to face your cellmate. Only you find it’s futile. With one hand, Vi has your arms in a firm, unrelenting hold behind your back. 

“So innocent, so precious,” She drags out her words like a snake, grabbing and massaging your bare ass with her free hands. “I could just eat you whole.” 

Vi leaves you with no time to ponder her words before her warm mouth finds your cunt. She moans loudly at the taste sending vibrations coursing through you. You try to fight her, but your resolve is already weakening drastically, and your thrashing only serves to push you further into her warmth. 

“Mmh,” she hums. “You taste even better than I imagined.” 

“Please…” you whimper. 

“Please what? Do you want more?” She teases. Before you have time to deny her accusations, two of her fingers join her mouth, thrusting into your dripping hole. The feeling immediately shatters what’s left of your will to fight back. Kitten-like mews and whorish whimpers erupt from your throat. 

“There, there,” she coos, as your walls tense and un-tense tightly around her fingers. She can tell you’re close already.

Her mouth finds its way to your sensitive clit, and she begins sucking hard. With the combined efforts of her mouth and fingers, you're cumming in no time. Screaming out her name as your release finds you, your juices spill down Vi’s face. 

When she stands, her reflection in the mirror serves as your only method of looking at her. She wears a proud smirk on her face, watching as you pant and twitch beneath her. “What a good little slut you are. When we are done, everyone in Stillwater will know who you belong to.”

Next part- For Dinner - Set to include: Sevika, Renata Glasc, Finn, Jinx, Ambessa Medarda

#arcane #arcane headcanon #arcane league of legends #arcane imagines #arcane x reader #arcane netflix #arcane jayce #jayce talis #jayce x reader #mel medarda #mel medara x reader #cassandra kiramman #cassandra x reader #cassandra kiramman x reader #silco x you #silco x reader #silco league of legends #cassandra kiramman league of legends #vi league of legends #vi x y/n #vi arcane #vi x reader #vi x you #smut #arcane smut

[citadelsanchez]

Hey there

May I request a rick × a female short-tempered reader whose soft and kind, only with him and for him?

Thank you so much~

Heyoo. Ngl, I wrote this half asleep tbh and my brain would not give me any better ideas so I hope it's decent haha. Enjoy (:

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I swear to Goddddd" you seethe, gritting your teeth and clutching the steering wheel.

You'd been stuck in traffic for a ridiculous amount of time, which was adding onto your anger from the hours before. There wasn't anything in particular that ruined your day, just the usual routine of rude customers at work, your one (and honestly only) friend pushing your buttons, and now shitty drivers making the way home insufferable.

Your almost-relationship also hasn't responded to your texts in 3 hours, which secretly made you want to scream although you'd never let it be known. He thrives off of your annoyance, there's no room for emotional vulnerability slips.

Which most people don't seem to expect from you anyway.

"You need to work on your friendliness," your manager quipped at you earlier. "Your happy tone is there but your face just looks flat and unamused constantly."

You'd just bit your tongue and refrained from saying that it's already a massive effort to keep from strangling most of those that come in everyday.

"Uh-huh, sure. So can I come over later when I get off?" You'd texted Rick, your aforementioned almost-relationship. You call it that because you've been seeing each other for a couple of months, but haven't put any labels on anything. They weren't really his thing; you guessed it came with the territory of being insanely intelligent. Nothing needed to be explained in his eyes.

You felt like the text came off as clingy, and assumed that it's why he didn't text back, which only made you feel worse. But oh, if you would have asked to sit on his cock, he would've texted back at the speed of light. Such an asshole.

You pull into your driveway now, getting out and slamming the car door. A nosy neighbor was on the sidewalk across from your house, mindlessly staring at you and the display of irritability.

You put your hands together to mimic a camera and pretend to click the top.

"Take a fucking picture, yeah?" You say and head inside. You don't mean to be so volatile and hot-headed, but in your humble defense, people truly drag it out of you.

You go into your bedroom and sigh, flinging your work clothes off to slip into casual pajamas and flop down on your bed.

"D-damn babe, judging by the way you toOOOK those clothes off, I'm assuming it wasn't a g-good day at work?" A voice says, making you screech as you had your eyes closed.

You look around the room to see Rick, stood in front of your closet, half smirking with portal gun in hand.

"Rick- fuck, don't scare me like that you massive cunt," you breathe out. You've told him that you're not a huge fan of him portaling into your personal space at random. But Rick being Rick, you might as well have been talking to the wall.

"T-tell me how it went, Ms. Grumps," he responds, walking over to sit on the bed with you. You feel a sense of comfort wash over you as his scent fills your nose and the warmth of his body radiates beside you.

You bite your lip and look down, embarrassed at how often your rage consumes you. You also don't want him to notice that your body seems to naturally detox when he's around.

"Um, ya know, just the usual stuff. Which you would know if you had texted me back," you replied, a hint of both hurt and playfulness in your voice.

He stares at you for a second before he gently puts his hand on top of yours and clears his throat.

"Yeah I-I'm sorry about that, M-Morty and I got caught up on Flarbellion chasing t-these Robobros. Almost took my fucking h-hand" Rick says.

"Uh huh, I'm sure. I just missed you" you mumble, still feeling a little upset and being unable to hide it.

"Come on d-don't be whiney, I'm- your knight in shining armor is here now," he smirks again, leaning in to move a strand of hair out of your face and put a hand on your thigh.

Your breath hitches a little and your heart starts beating rapidly. You're used to being around him and being in him but these sweet actions- they're small and rare all the same.

Rick shifts to sit behind you and starts running both hands through your hair now, one massaging your scalp slowly and the other petting it gently. You moan slightly in ecstasy from the feeling and lean back into him.

"Rick, that feeels so good."

After a minute or two you turn around and wrap your arms around him sheepishly. "Thank you, Rick. I can return the favor if you'd like."

"Th-that's okay hun, just wanted to help. I-I've got some favors you could return instead though." He says, his voice suggestive and grin as evident as ever.

"Shut up, you're the worst. And the best," you admit, realizing that in just a few minutes time he'd made all your stresses melt away completely. It happens every time.

"D-don't I know it, sweet girl," he smiles down at you, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

#rick sanchez #rick and morty #rick sanchez x reader #rick and morty season 6 #rick sanchez x oc #morty smith

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Eros

a/n Don't have a clue about what this is or what this will be. As with most of my series the first chapter is always a test run. But I want to say a huge thank you to @moonlightazriel and @fieldofdaisiies for being my beta readers cause without them this would have stayed in my notes forever. Love you two! Enjoy! 🤍✨

Azriel x reader x Eris

warnings: mature themes, sexual interactions.

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Lust. A strange, wicked thing. So inexplicable, yet when it strikes, no words are required. So empowering, but it leaves you panting and, most of the time, empty. What is a desire if not the most primal urge to feel? To belong. The ones who don't mingle at the top can find relief for their desires anywhere and with anyone. When you have power, everything changes. Yet it's not even really about the power. Power buys your desires and prevents those around you from gossiping. But it's the mask, a shield that one holds that doesn't allow slip-ups like this. Any form of emotion can be turned against you. Anyone who receives your emotions may become a target. You might leave the deal empty-handed, just as you entered it. Or maybe even with blood coating your fingertips.

You try not to think about things like that. In general, at least for a portion of the day, you try not to think because the mind is just as powerful as lust, if not more. It can consume you and break you quicker than you could ever imagine. And you can indeed manifest your worst nightmare to come true if you think long enough about it. And there are many, many bad thoughts in your head. Ones that could drive you to such extremes that you doubted that anyone would be able to bring you back.

"So, do you agree?", you blink quickly. You've slipped in your head again, for fuck's sake. Your eyes meet the man sitting in front of you. His eyes soften, and you instantly turn your face away from him. "We could talk about what's been on your mind, you know?", you bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your predatory stare straight. "Sister...", he pleads again, and you make yet another mistake that day by turning your gaze back to your brother.

Thesan, bless him Mother, was nothing like the rest of your family. There was that warm light within him. He was the Dawn himself. Doubtfully, was there a soul who hated him. He was a true healer and passionate about it too. "Just tell me what you were fussing about, and let's end this, please," you bite back coldly. Regret can take a nibble out of your soul later on; now you need to be out of the palace as soon as possible, considering that you were already late.

"I want us to attend father's meetings together. We could use a bit more calmness in this house," Thesan says, and you can't help but snort. Hopefully, death will take the old fucker soon or he will finally step down, just like he's been promising. Yet your brother doesn't share that same amusement as you. You lean forward, bracing your hands on his wooden table, which your father had shipped for him as a birthday gift from the other side of Prythian. "Keep your nose out of my business. I'm perfectly capable of handling that old shit myself", "The old shit is our father", Thesan steps forward, and for the first time in a long time, you appear to be visibly frustrated. If you weren't in a time crunch, you might have entertained this even more. For your enjoyment.

"Do you back that statement? Do you have enough faith in it?", you bite back. The truth is that Thesan is the last person who should be on the receiving end of your anger. He had always loved you as a sister, and you loved him as a brother. You would set Dawn on fire, but he's the one who's keeping you at bay. He loves this place too much, and for that alone, you would never lift a hand against something he takes great pride in.

"I don't care whose blood runs through your veins; you are my family." Truth be told, you weren't the one and not the first to suspect that you weren't your father's child. That your mother had an affair, which unfortunately resulted in you, and that the male whose roof you lived under would gladly rip you to shreds in the blink of an eye. Not that he hadn't tried to do that. The difference now was that you had become someone to fear. That kept the dagger away from your heart at night, although it's not like you spent many nights in the palace anyway. "That makes you a lonely soldier," you say quietly as you turn away from your brother, exciting his study before his pleading eyes ripped through the thick curtains covering your heart.

You need to get out of here. Another minute between these suffocating walls and you might crumble. With a quick stop at your room, you pick up some of your weapons along with some other extremely essential things for tonight. Just a moment longer. Long way down the stairs, out through the back, and down the river bank, and you can winnow out of this place.

"Where do you think you're going?", the voice startles you slightly. You were running way too low on energy if a thing like that made you jumpy. You didn't jump, and you didn't flinch. You had people throwing daggers at you for entertainment purposes. Not a single hair rose from your skin at that time. Pull yourself together.

"I don't need a babysitter," you said bitterly, before continuing to make your way down the stairs. Atlas grips your hand firmly, making you stop in your tracks. For your father's general of the armies, he had because comfortable around you. "You are an heir; what image do you paint going out like this?" And here was the reason for his concern. He wanted you on that throne more than anything else. Your father had lost interest in battles and desired to gain land. His abilities shifted to breaking and manipulating those closest to him. That left Atlas bored in his stables. 

"Oh, my apologies. Do you want me to sit in front of a book all day? Put a pretty bow on me while you're at it," you say, yanking your hand away from him as you move to pull your hood over your head. "You're getting out of line again," again, that word should warn you. Maybe even scare you. If only you cared. You step closer to him, feeling his breath on your face; a shiver runs down his spine. Good. This means your work here hasn't gone unnoticed. "None of you own me, get that through you thick scull", "Get into your room, or I'm telling your father", the general warns you one last time but you only let out a bitter laugh. Before winnowing yourself out of the palace, something that your father had highly forbidden.

The ability to winnow is something you cherish more than anything. It's liberating. The feeling of darkness surrounding you is more than inviting. Soothing even. You are everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

You open the door to the cabin quickly, fidgeting with the key as it gets stuck in the lock for a moment. Your hands are shaky; you'll need to try and hide that tonight. The inside is even nastier than the last time you were here. The staircase to the second floor has finally fallen apart. You lock the doors behind you before moving to the back of the house and down the stairs that lead into the basement. It's pitch black here, but you move around the place as if you had night vision. Two steps to the right, your hand touches the corner of the wall. You trace the pattern of the chipped pain before pushing both of your hands against the wall, and the door opens. 

It's much warmer down here, so the fire must be on. The secret room is nothing like the outside building, the cabin itself is made to serve as a cover-up in case someone came across this place. While the back room is neatly arranged and freshly painted, made to accompany all the needs one could have. You stop for a moment, standing as still as a stone. A laugh echoes from the back room, and you feel a sense of yourself crawling from deep within you. "You're late, snowflake," the male's voice says as you round the corner, a pleased grin on your face. "Some of us have responsibilities, you know, fireling," the male snickers as he lifts the glass and cheers you before placing it to his lips. "I like your boots," you feel a hand inching up over the leather, gently squeezing your thigh. It's almost enough to melt some of the tension away from your shoulders. "Highly inspired by your leathers," you chirp back at the winged warrior before inching away from his touch to shrug off the jacket from around your shoulders.

"No extra company tonight?", you ask, turning back to the two of them, throwing your hair up into a messy bun. It's not like most nights there are more than the three of you here, but Eris likes to go big sometimes. God knows where he finds those sorry souls, but it adds a little something to the ambiance of the night. Not to mention that being the only girl here can get a bit boring.

"Us two won't do for you, vixen?" Your eyes fall onto the sight in front of you. One that would bring joy to sore eyes. The fire is peacefully cracking in the fireplace. Softly illuminating the room with its warmth. And then there are two males sprung out on top of a pile of blankets right in front of it. And not just any males, but two males who have quite a reputation in all of Prythian. Shirts unbuttoned as they lazily sipped their drinks. Plates of food covered the two nightstands that Eris had dragged from somewhere.

You just shake your head at the lordling, missing the confused look the two males share before you free fall into the sea of different furs and knitted goodness. Closing your eyes for a moment. Carefully pushing every bit of today to the back of your brain, forcing your thoughts to shrink. A breath hitches in the back of your throat as the sensation of a kiss being placed on your lower stomach fills your senses.

They trail up to your neck as they slowly ignite the longing need within you. You open your eyes just as you feel him breathing right against your neck. But even without a gift of vision, you know that it's Azriel. He shoots you a smile before closing the distance between the two of you. You can taste the brandy on his lips. It's way too slow for your liking, way too gentle, but it's something, and you're not the one to complain.

"Hi," the shadow singer whispers after he pulls away slightly. "Hey," you rasp back, moving your head to the side as he dives back to your neck. You know that it's his silent way of asking if you are okay. No doubt he had noticed the shift in your demeanor. Azriel was the newest addition to the group. Came here all drained and torn after being told off after persuading things with a female that he shouldn't have been pinning after. You found them arguing one night. You weren't so sure why Eris brought him here of all places, but he was here, and you weren't about to kick out an Illyrian warrior with the biggest wingspan. Azriel was the most affectionate of the bunch. Poor touch-deprived creature. He soaked up any form of loving touch you decided to give him. Ready to crawl if only that got him into a warm embrace. At times, it felt slightly suffocating. His clingy touches almost made you feel trapped. As if you were back at Dawn again.

You were about to pull the spymaster in for another kiss when you felt a tug on your ankle that dragged you from beneath the winged male. You let out a surprised squeal as Eris pulled you closer to him. Azriel grunted in annoyance as he watched you two. "I didn't think you were the jealous type," you cooed as you ran your hands over his exposed chest. Eris leaned in, nipping your lip teasingly, "I just want to say my hellos as well." You roll your eyes at Eris, pulling him closer to you by the hems of the shirt. Pulling him in so hard and so quickly that your teeth practically clicked together. Eris was hungry. Always so freaking hungry. It was more than true that autumn males fucked like they had a fire in their blood. His hands cupped your bum as he slithered them underneath your skirt. You took this as an opportunity to gently bite his bottom lip, earning a low moan from Eris in return.

You doubted that anyone would ever know you the way Eris knows you. There wasn't an inch of your body that hadn't been touched by him. He was your first back then. You two had known each other practically since you started walking. Both have seen many acts of court brutality. Both were scared until being scared was no longer an option. You turn your face to the side as your head fills up with rivers of memories.

"What is going on with you tonight?", the lordling pulls away from you, yet his hand doesn't let go of your body. There was no frustration directed toward you in his voice. Nothing that happened here was ever forceful. Letting yourself sink further into the soft surface beneath you, you throw an arm over your mouth, letting out a scream that's muffled by your skin. "Hand me something to drink," you growl, fingers gripping the roots of your hair. "Have you eaten dinner already?", Azriel asks, making Eris hum in consent. "More like, have you eaten at all today?", you throw the lordling a glare, but you know that no matter how much you stared, there wasn't even the slightest part of him that you could frighten.

"Open up," Azriel says quietly before lowering the fork containing food to your mouth. You take the bite even if all you want to do right now is throw a fit. But then again, you can't help the tiny moan that almost escapes your lips at the flavors that seep into your taste buds. You shuffle closer to the table. Azriel lets out a chuckle when you lean against his chest, opening your mouth and waiting for another bite. He doesn't hesitate. Quickly arranging yet another bite before carefully bringing it to your lips.

"Tell me that you brought something good to smoke", Eris is laying with his head hanging off the piles of blankets, "Inside pocket on the left side", the fireling stands up with a smirk on his face, "Only you keep smoke next to your heart", you can't help a smile as well, especially when Azriel's lips find your shoulder again, "Keep the things you love close am I right or am I right". 

Eris makes a quick rumble through the pocket before lighting up the joint between his fingers. He puffs out the smoke a couple of times before flopping down, his head now resting on Azriel's thigh. "I have a couple of letters for you," Eris says after blowing out a cloud of smoke right at your face, "And I swear I will split your head in two if you'll start talking business right now." "Bingo, it's your father who pissed you off," Lordling chirps before lifting the cigarette closer to Azliel's lips. Something about that makes your stomach feel fuzzy. The way spymaster's fingers curl around Eris's wrist, holding it securely in place. You lick your lips quickly, "Surprisingly, it wasn't my father today." You rasp out your eyes while still watching them. You don't even think they are listening now. Eris drags his finger over Azriel's bottom lip with his thumb. The moment Azriel is fully hooked, Eris pulls his hand away.

"So it's the general then," even though you can hear the fireling's voice, your focus is now on Azriel. The way his eyes look down on the male leaning against him. You move to take the fork out of the spymaster's hand, flipping it somewhere on the table. Inviting his fingers to dance over your skin instead. You brush your lips over him gently, and he leans into you, starting to get fed up with being declined. So you give in to letting his lips dance over yours. Azriel feels so close to you, yet in reality, you can't be further apart. His lips are so soft, it's almost surreal. You pull away slightly even if the spymaster is protesting against it, hand moving to the back of your head, holding it in place firmly as he claims the last bit of oxygen away from you. 

"Kiss," you murmur, still catching your breath, "Kiss each other." You move out of the way slightly. Truth be told, you had no clue if they had one-on-one meetings with one another. But you've never seen them kiss before, and suddenly you crave to see it. Your mind is finally starting to get murky enough to the point where the outside world is starting to melt into nothing. "What do you say, shadow singer?", Eris purrs, looking up at the male towering over him. For a split second, you had a doubting feeling that the shadow singer was going to say no, especially when he turned to the side.

But then Azriel turns back to the lordling, hands moving to undo Eris's shirt further down, before Azriel lifts the bottle of whiskey, pulling the cork out with his teeth and tilting the glass bottle to the side. You watch them with your mouth partly open. Shifting on your legs that are tucked under you for a little more friction as the heat pools between your legs. Eris hands you the joint quickly before his attention is back on the male, who is now hovering over him. Azriel's gaze is still on the fireling as he licks the alcohol off his skin. You manage to take a couple of drags from the cigarette, but even that seems less important than what's going on in front of you. You grip the blanket beneath you as Azriel stops before wrapping his hand around Eris's neck. Then their lips meet, and it's the sloppiest thing you've ever seen. Azriel is usually quick to give up dominance, but now he's fighting for it, and fighting hard. Eris tries to shift away from the shadow singer, but Azriel only pushes him down more.

Subconsciously, your hand slips between your legs. It almost feels like you shouldn't be there. Shouldn't watch them. But it's as if your eyes are glued to them. You can see them grinding against one another. Mother, you've seen them naked before. You had sex with them before. Why are you out here acting like a dumb teenager? You circle your fingers slowly, coating them in your wetness. A moan slips through your lips, and the two instantly stop. Azriel's eyes are on you, and abruptly you feel like a wild animal under the spotlight.

"Was that a moan I heard?", Eris grins, licking his puffy lips. You know that lying would be stupid; the placement of your hand alone is clear evidence that this is a turn-on for you. "I believe you've been asked a question, shorty. You've been awfully bad at answering today," Azriel says as he approaches you. But you just stare at him, unable to move. His eyes are on you the whole time until he's able to reach for your hand, carefully pulling it away from your body. Your fingers glisten in the dim light. Eris lets out a laugh, and Azriel just grins at you like he's found a fortune. "Wet, huh?" You nod your head carefully. Feeling the blush on your cheeks.

"Mother, if you could see yourself. I think I'm ready to die now that I've seen your smartass mouth shut like this", Eris watches you in amusement, and Azriel shoots him a warning look as if he's scared Eris might bring out your feisty side back. "Lay down, gorgeous. Your time to shine", you swallow thickly, there must have been something in that joint. Or maybe it was just the effect of seeing the two of them make out.

The moment Azriel hikes your skirt up, and his fingers slowly move to slip over your folds, you feel as if the world around you is spinning. You know you are close, and it's almost embarrassing because he just started touching you. Eris slithers closer to you. That self-assured smirk on his face is so annoying. "What got you so worked up, huh?" His warm hands push the top of your shirt down. The feeling of Eris's tongue swirling around your erected nipple pulls a deep moan out of you, and you instantly grab fistfuls of his red hair, pushing him even closer to you. Azriel leans in to kiss the inside of your thigh, nibbling at your skin here and there. Leaving you wishing you had more than two hands.

"Azriel...", you cry out softly, and the male is quick to shush you, "We've got you. Let yourself go, baby." With that, his mouth is lapping at your hot folds, suckling as if there's no tomorrow. You arch your back from the blankets, but Eris is quick to pin your hips back down. "Stay still, vixen, let him pull it out of you." The movement restriction only increases your sense of pleasure. The lulling voice in your ear makes another shiver run down your body. The fact that you have your hands pushing both of them closer to you sends you into overdrive. Azriel moves to circle his thumb over your bundle of nerves, and you're over. Oven and under as a wave of pleasure spreads through your body. Your toes curl, and a mess of random words fall from your lips.

It feels like you are finally able to take a breath. Like your system finally had a reset. The drumming heart in your chest is a clear reminder that you are alive. You open your eyes slowly, only to be met with two sets of eyes watching you. You smile at them, and Eris moves to kiss your shoulders before rolling over to grab another bottle.

"Should I...", the two of them instantly shake their heads, "Just reset your brain before you explode". Azriel emerges from the back room with a wet cloth, wiping down your still-glistening thighs. You offer him another smile, which he returns in a heartbeat. You let yourself stare at the ceiling for a moment before Azriel is dragging you up on his chest, pulling a blanket over your shoulders. A wave of tiredness washes over you, and you find yourself searching your mind for the last time you slept properly. You meet Eris's gaze for a second, his knowing eyes piercing through your chest. You turn away, allowing yourself to close your eyes. Real life doesn't exist here, and for that, you are thankful.

———————–

All acotar writing: @brekkershadowsinger r @cityofidek @baebeepeach @lucyysthings @hideing @urfavbrunettebish @historygeekqueen @marina468 @courtofjurdan

Series taglist: @peachycandy10

#azriel x reader x eris #azriel x reader #eris vanserra x reader #acotar x reader #acotar imagine

[centaurianthropology]

Keyleth, Orym, Ashton, and Anger

Something struck me on the most recent 4SD that I've been mulling over ever since, and that was Taliesin saying that Ashton didn't steal anything from Keyleth's room while they were visiting because he was so star-struck. This might be the coolest person Ashton had ever seen: injured, in pain, angry for 30 FUCKING YEARS, and what does she want from them?

She wants a place to finally put that anger. She wants a way to take this pain and turn it into something good, if not for her then on a broader sense. This is exactly the same conclusion that Ashton came to, I think, watching Bor'dor die. Because Bor'dor let that anger consume him. He looked at this group of people who had hurt him indirectly, who didn't know him, with whom he could have a genuine new start, and decided that his proudest moment in life was duping them into thinking he cared, all so he could drop a Vitriolic Sphere on them as revenge. He didn't find anywhere to put his anger that was good. He let it and his pain and the unfairness of the world eat him to the point that he turned around and attacked Prism, who had never done anything to him, who looked at him as one of her best friends, all because she was guilty by random association.

And I think Ashton saw themselves in Bor'dor far more than they saw themselves in Laudna in that moment. And in that moment, Ashton finally decided to let Bor'dor die, and that part of themselves that's angry at the world at random, that lashes out in pain at anything close, had to die with him.

Ashton is on a new path. They have finally found somewhere to put their anger. They've decided to be a fucking hero. And out of nowhere this woman that Orym respects more than anyone says the exact same thing. She, the wisest person Orym knows, is also looking for a place to put her anger. She is also in pain. She is also injured, and needs somewhere to finally focus all that rage that is bubbling up inside her.

And they don't share any real moment together. They don't know one another. Ships that pass in the night, and all that. But she does know Orym, and she does speak to Orym, and I have to wonder in that moment if Ashton looks at Orym and recognizes that same pain and rage in him. This quiet and calm man, Ashton's balance point since early on, has the same rage, the same pain, and now also has a place to put it, and it's all the same place. All three of them are aiming the same.

Anyway, I would love to have a followup conversation between Ashton and Orym after the meditation conversation, with Orym coming to Ashton to talk about anger. If Ashton wants Orym to teach them how to find a calm at their center, Orym might just want Ashton to teach them about directed rage. And I know it probably won't happen, but wouldn't it be cool if, at the next level-up, we got a little swap? Ashton takes a level in fighter, and Orym takes a level in barbarian. Ashton gains a little of that battlefield focus, and Orym finally has an outlet for all that rage.

#Critical Role #Ashton Greymoore #Orym of the Air Ashari #Keyleth

[absentcigarettes]

Whiskey Through Anger

Relationship: Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith

Word Count: 6751

Summary: Arthur near pitied the women who'd slept with Charles. He confused pity for envy. charles is mad bcs of the poachers who killed the bison, Arthur cheers him up by lending him his ass

Note: was my first time writing smut so it may be cringe. also it's completely un-beta'd so it might have mistakes

read on ao3

I need a drink.

That was the first thing Charles had thought after leaving the hunter bastards' camp. It was likely the only thing that would take his mind off of the merciless cruelty imposed upon those poor bison. It would also distract him from the unneglectable urge within him to hunt down the man who'd paid those poachers himself. That- and a quick fuck. Preferably with one of the saloon girls. The prostitutes would work, but most of them weren't as appealing to Charles; most looking for rich men rather than a good time. And it did well for Charles's ego whenever he successfully wooed the women into sleeping with him. On the way to Valentine, he'd suddenly remembered Taima's need to be brushed and fed. So with the most miniscule amount of sense left in his mind that had thankfully not been overtaken by the rumbling rage travelling through his veins, he turned back and rode towards camp.

He leaned against a tree, beside the horse's hitching posts, awaiting Taima's return from the lakeside. Earlier, he'd decided to settle for a quick shave. If he was gonna fuck, may as well be presentable. He shaved frequently but not daily; he wasn't into the scraggly, unkempt beards most men in the gang had. Except Arthur. That man could make anything Charles found revolting to be absolutely alluring.

Taima had returned, as he knew she would. "Here, girl.." He reached his hand out, to which she happily nestled her head in the palm of his hand. He felt his fury dissipate.

Until Micah came.

"Darkie!" The rough shrill of his voice called, "Where's your boyfriend?" Boyfriend. A nickname begun by Dutch to tease Arthur as he'd been seen frequently hanging around Charles more often. It ain't helped that they'd barely ever spoken up 'til Colter and that Charles rarely hung out with people. At best, he drank with Javier and John. Any other interaction with the gang members weren't personal. He didn't mind the nickname. But Arthur sure did, and that stung somehow.

"Excuse me?" His fury returned.

Micah leaned nearer, "You deaf, redskin?" He snarled, shoving him back. Charles could smell the nauseating toxins released from his mouth; Micah's breath was worse than a pile of rotting corpses.

Charles shoved Micah back. Harder. Micah fell back, knocking over the wooden crates behind him, as well as everything on them. The sound of the gang's belongings clattering on the dirt caused heads to turn in their direction. With the tip of his boot, he'd kicked Micah hard in the stomach, "Fuck." Another kick, "You." One final blow.

He considered spitting on him, but decided against it. He wouldn't resort to such feeble means to take his anger out.

"Let's go, girl," He said to Taima, jumping on his horse, who neighed in agreement before galloping away.

"Gimme a whiskey." He'd barged into the saloon and sat at the counter. The bartender was often friendly with Charles; despite the short time they'd been there, Charles had frequented going there to drink with Javier and at times, uninvited imbeciles such as Bill and when really unlucky- Uncle. Instead of striking up a conversation, as Charles usually would to pass the time, he stared at the bartender with dark eyes, expectantly awaiting his drink. It was evident that he was in a sour mood, so a glass was poured and served swiftly and without a word.

He took the sip, taking pleasure in how the burn in his throat so effectively distracted him from the seething wrath consuming him. Stirring the clear bronze liquid with his finger, he couldn't help but remember how he'd confronted those poachers. The anger that had overtaken him in that moment. The loud blast of the gunshot he'd heard after subconsciously shooting a dent in the man's face. He didn't regret it.

Suddenly, he remembered the cowardly pleas of the second poacher. How much he took pleasure in watching the man squirm. And suddenly- Arthur stepped in.

Arthur.

Oh, how his heart softened for that man.

He'd regretted yelling at him for letting the pathetic bastard go. He was always much more of a better man than Charles could ever be. Through his blind hatred, he couldn't think right, but there Arthur was. Returning to him his sight and helping him retrieve his mind- though, simultaneously overtaking his heart. After having first laid eyes on him back in Blackwater, the snarky cowboy with wits as well as beauty- he could never stop looking at him. For him. Whenever he'd leave Charles's line of sight, his eyes would instinctually begin to search for the man once more. He remembered wandering around the area for no particular reason but to catch a glimpse of him. At the time, he wasn't the kind to drink often, but whenever he was asked to tag along and told that Arthur would follow, he accepted immediately.

Pathetic. He thought. How delusional.

The man would never love him. He knew this. If by some miracle Arthur Morgan, the Van der Linde gang's best shot and toughest member, somehow held interest for the male sex, there was absolutely no way in hell he'd choose Charles.

It was enough for him that he could be considered a friend to Arthur. He was satisfied.

His solution to escape from his anger led him to wallowing in self-pitiful sorrow. Far worse than anger.

When the whiskey reduced to drops, he requested a second glass. Feeling his temper cooling, he sighed. Maybe time for that fuck.

A rough voice came, one he'd recognise anywhere: "I knew I'd find you here!" A slap on the back.

"Arthur." He near smiled.

The cowboy took a seat beside him and requested a beer. Charles took a sip, placing the glass down with a thud, "What are you doing here?"

His drink was served and Arthur took a sip. A smile played on his lips, "Heard a friend of mine were here. Unfortunately, it was you."

Though he knew Arthur joked often, he couldn't help the thought that lingered telling him it wasn't a joke. "Come on. Really."

"Well," Another sip, "I'd been searchin' for you."

"Hm?" He felt his cheeks heat up.

"Yeah, after I'd looted them bastards' camp, I rode back home. Thought you'd be there but all I'd seen were a very mad Micah." Arthur grinned, knowing damn well who caused Micah's well-deserved fury, "Second place I'd thought you'd be was here. Drownin' your anger in whiskey."

"You know me well." Charles smiled, taking a sip of whiskey.

"'Course i do."

Arthur accompanied him throughout the evening, 'til the sun had set and the customers increased. He provided a very welcome distraction for Charles from his foul mind and Charles was grateful.

The words they spoke became slurred and he couldn't help but notice how Arthur's lips turned more pink and how visible the flush on his cheeks were. They were both drunk. He knew that.

He hadn't drunken enough to puke his guts out or haze his vision 'til all he saw were distorting waves. But he was drunk enough for his lust to take over. Something that always happened when he drank and it certainly didn't help that right beside him was the man he oh so desperately craved for. They sat close. Too close. Charles could smell the wooden scent of his soap as well as the smell of cigarette smoke that lingered within his clothes. The whiff of whiskey on his breath, as he'd purchased a bottle for both him and Charles.

It didn't help the erection growing in his pants that their knees kept touching. And it certainly didn't help that Arthur was one touchy fella. Every few minutes a hand was placed on his thigh, shoulder or knee. It lingered a few seconds longer than natural that Charles nearly would've thought it was intentional if he didn't know any better.

When intoxicated he spoke his mind. It took a mighty amount of effort with the little composure he had left to prevent himself from yelling out his desire to fuck his closest friend. Instead he said, "I need a fuck."

Arthur stopped, "Don't wanna drink no more?"

"Mm.. not really."

"Really. Not enjoying my company?" He teased. God, of course he was.

"I always enjoy your company, Arthur," He said, slurring slightly. "But unless I can fuck you, I don't think I can sit here much longer. I'm still mad about this afternoon. Can't be sittin' here anymore- shit- I'd probably fuck you if I did." Fuck. Why would he say that. Why did he say that. Fuck fuck fuck.

The words Charles had uttered sent a spark down the pit of Arthur's stomach. Surely he didn't mean it like that. He was drunk. But then- so was Arthur. So he swallowed, "I wouldn't mind." The words come out before Arthur can stop them.

That had to be the alcohol talking, right? There would be no way in hell, that Arthur Morgan would ever say such a thing. Even if Charles was lucky enough to be blessed with the chance of even touching Arthur's bare torso- he wouldn't even dare to in fear of causing Arthur even the slightest bit of discomfort.

But.. Then again, he may never get such an opportunity again. Was Arthur bluffing? Or was it the whiskey. God, he couldn't think straight.

Finally he spoke, "What.." A pause, "What do you mean?"

He didn't dare look at Arthur.

Despite the bustle and laughter of the drunkards behind them and the sound of drinks being poured into glasses continuously, all that surrounded them was the awkward noise of silence. He looked at Arthur, surprised to find a prominent flush painted upon his cheeks, intentionally avoiding Charles's gaze, "I-" He cleared his throat, "A..As long as it'll help you."

Silence.

"Help me?"

A nod.

"You know what that means, Arthur?"

He swallowed. Another nod.

They sat in silence for a bit before Charles spoke, "Okay."

"..." Arthur chugged down his whiskey, "Okay."

Suddenly they were upstairs. In a room they'd rented, with Charles's large frame pressed up against Arthur's, pinning him against the door. With their mouths pressed together, moving messily in terrible synergy. Wet and sloppy as saliva ran down their chins. Their hands running across eachothers' bodice in desperation, eager for the most meager amount of contact. Charles's hands running down Arthur's sides and Arthur intertwining his own hands into Charles's hair, tangling the once straight strands and tugging at the scalp.

Immediately after renting a room they'd headed upstair, uncaring of the eyes that may have followed them nor the whispers that could've trailed behind. Once in said room, the door slammed and Arthur was shoved up against the door, Charles's lips crashing into his with drunken desire. Catching Arthur by surprise, taken aback by his aggressive passion. He didn't know what to do except melt into the sensation and oh. Oh, how good it felt. The way Charles kissed him was- he'd never been kissed like that before. Charles kissed him with hunger. With need. As if he were a man who'd starved for so very long and it was only Arthur who could satiate that hunger.

Charles placed a knee in between Arthur's thigh causing the man to break the kiss, eliciting a moan from him, "F-Fuc...k," He whispered. God, the sound was heaven. He couldn't believe this moment was real. That Arthur Morgan himself was so near. Pressed up against him in such a vulnerable position. He connected their lips once more, pushing his tongue into the man's open mouth causing Arthur to groan into the kiss. God, he was perfect.

Charles broke the kiss and stared at Arthur. His lips reddened and lustrous, slightly parted as Arthur panted heavily. Beautiful.

Leaning in once more, Charles pressed his lips upon his jaw. Trailing his jawline with kisses a small nips, down to his neck and collarbone. Arthur whimpered from receiving Charles's not so gentle bites and sucks. He wanted more.

"Arthur.." He hummed, leaving marks upon his collarbone.

"Y-yeah?"

"You're doing this to help me.. right?" He sucked another mark onto his terribly sunkissed skin.

He swallowed, "Y..es.

"Good.." He whispered, his voice low and sweet, dripping of luscious, sweetened syrup, it made Arthur feel something he hadn't felt before and he absolutely loved it. "Get on your knees."

"What?"

Charles caught a hint of doubt hidden among his words. He kissed his jaw, "You sure about this.. right?" He whispered, "You can still back out.." It was the last sober part of himself that spoke. He knew once they'd gone farther he would've been far too intoxicated by Arthur to stop.

"Yes." Arthur whispered, low and breathy.

"Good.. On your knees, Arthur." Arthur did as told.

He ran a hand through Arthur's hair in admiration, taking in every bit of the man. His eyes peering up to stare at Charles, his cheeks so very flushed and his lips. God. His lips. "Good boy.." He spoke. The praise sent a terribly satisfying warmth down the pit of Arthur's stomach.

Charles could feel his erection hardening at the sight of the man. Arthur watched as the man undid his belt, unbuttoning his pants, his eyes widening when they caught sight of the beast of Charles's cock. The length was slightly over average, nothing special but fuck, the girth. He near pitied the women who'd slept with Charles. He confused pity for envy.

He flushed. Beginning to understand what Charles wanted. "Charles.."

"Yes, Arthur?" Charles traced his jaw, tilting his head further upwards.

"I.. I ain't ever done this before.."

A force tugged upon Charles's lips. He smiled, "Don't worry, I'll guide you.."

A nod from Arthur.

"Use your mouth, love. Hands too. Just lick it, suck it.. yeah.. like that." Love. He'd never called him that before.

Arthur placed a hand at the base of the cock. Fuck, it was huge. He could barely wrap his hand around it. He swirled his tongue around the tip, flicking at it once in a while, simultaneously pumping at the base. He mouthed the sides of the prick before enclosing his lips around the head of his cock. A groan escaped Charles's lips, encouraging Arthur to continue. He tried hard to remember how women he'd been with in his past did it to him but it was so long ago he'd forgotten.

Pushing his head down further he felt the tip of the cock hit the back of his throat, he fought hard not to gag, pushing the cock down his throat 'till his nose was buried in the man's pubes.

"God, you're so beautiful.." Charles whispered. Arthur felt his own erection growing as he pulled his head back and forth, gagging on his cock each time. It felt so good. He never would've thought he could get off on choking on another man's cock but Charles made it feel so good. The hand tangled in his hair began to grip harder, taking control of Arthur's motions as it forced Arthur's head up and and down. The cock hitting the back of his throat repeatedly made him gag. Arthur choked. Tried to pull back but Charles wouldn't let him, thrusting into his mouth as if he was nothing but a hole to relieve himself in.

Fuck, the thought made him harder.

His eyes rolled back as he choked on the cock, allowing Charles to take complete control as he relished in the his groans. "Fuck, fuck.. fuck, You're so good Arthur, so good for me. I'm gonna cum Arthur. Stay put for me, sweet thing.." Charles pushed his head down hard on his cock, not releasing the vigorous grip he had on Arthur. The man moaned, sending vibrations across his cock as he felt the hot, sticky liquid spill down his throat. Finally Charles let go, Arthur pulling back, panting hard as Charles's spend dripped down his chin. His lips reddened from the friction and his tongue stuck out with drool hanging off of it. His eyes glassy and face flushed. The sight was obscene. It nearly made Charles hard again.

"Arthur.." Charles sighed, his heart near implosion from the bliss of this moment. He pulled him up, pressing their lips together as they moved messily in poor attempts of synchronised rhythm. Through sloppily sensuous movements, Arthur panting in-between each slow motion. They stumbled towards the bed, Charles pushing Arthur not so gently down on the thin, old mattress. Finally he pulled away. Arthur panted, "D.. Did I do well?" His voice rasped.

God.. How adorable, "Yes, Arthur," He smiled, pressing a kiss upon his nose, "You were so good Arthur.. So good for me.."

The words unleashed a whine from Arthur, his cock pressing so hard against the fabric of his pants he feared the cloth would tear. Suddenly a palm rubbed at his groin. The moan Arthur let out was more than shameful. He covered his mouth with both hands, embarrassed of the volume of the sound.

"Don't cover your mouth," Charles whispered, palming harder between his thighs, "C'mon.. you made me feel so good, Arthur.. Tell me what I can do for you."

Arthur flushed, he didn't expect to receive any pleasure from this- though, in truth being this intimate with Charles was already far more pleasuring than anything he could ever have in his sad life. But he'd expected to help Charles release stress, doing anything Charles wanted, and once done he'd shamefully jerk off in silence with the thought of Charles's body above his (however far they'd go,) to help him relieve himself.

"I-It's fine Charles. I'm helpin' you get off, you don't gotta worry 'bout me."

"Yeah, but what if getting you off is what gets me off?" He spoke, pressing kisses across his clothed thighs.

"Then.. go ahead."

"Take off your clothes, sweetheart." Fuck, these pet names were getting out of hand. Arthur was enjoying them far too much.

He did as Charles said. With the cold air hitting his freckled skin, he couldn't help but feel so ashamed. Of his body and how turned off Charles might be. He felt too exposed. Charles just stared at him, his eyes never leaving, his gaze never faltering. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Did he just fuck it up? Was Charles so disgusted by his body he couldn't even utter a measly syllable out of his soft, soft lips? Fuck. Of course. He's such an ugly fuckin' bastard, no wonder-

"You're beautiful, Arthur."

"Huh?" He must've misheard him.

"God, Arthur.." He spoke as if breathless, "You're so perfect." He kissed him. Slow and steady, as if trying to take in all of Arthur. As if this moment was going to end if he didnt do so. God, he hoped it'd never end. "You're so beautiful." He whispered, leaving a trail of kisses down to his throbbing, weeping cock as he whispered bits of praise and words of affections. Arthur nearly believed it.

"Have you ever done before, Arthur?" He spoke lowly against his unclothed thighs, sending scalding reverberations across his lightly haired skin.

"Not.. Not with a man, no." He slurred, the effects of the whiskey still weighing heavily upon him, stirring his mind into a hazed blur as it rushed all the blood from there to his cock.

"You do this frequently, then? With women?"

"No, not- not in a long while now."

Arthur gazed blearily at the man whose face had been positioned between his thighs, aware of how vulnerable this position was for himself- as well as how it was so terribly tantalising.

"You," He broke the silence, "You done this before? With men?"

"Yeah. Not too often but it isn't anything too rare."

"I ain't thought you were the kind."

"What kind?"

"Y'know, the-"

"Cocksucking kind?"

Arthur flushed at his bluntness, "Well.. Yeah."

"I don't mind sucking cock. Don't mind fucking anyone with one too. As long as the holes attached to a warm body, I don't mind."

"So I'm just another warm body to you?" Arthur teased, though his heart near cracked open at the thought.

You're so much more than that, Arthur. Charles thought to himself. And his drunk self said exactly that as he pressed more kisses along his jawline, Arthur flushing at the words.

"So- how does this work? Sex with two men."

"One of 'em takes it up the ass."

Arthur's eyes went so wide, Charles feared it'd remain that way.

"And you.." Arthur muttered, "You took it up the ass before?" He asked in hopes of there being a chance he wouldn't have to take Charles's horse cock up his ass.

"Never. The other guys always just happened to want me to do them."

"Oh.." He didn't really like thinking of Charles and other men. Other people.

He opened his mouth to speak before Charles did so, "You don't have to take it up the ass. You already made me feel good, I just want to do the same, Arthur."

In truth he did want to take Arthur in the ass. He wanted to fuck the man so hard he begged for more. He wanted to fuck him into the bed. Hard enough that the rusted springs of the lumpy mattress no longer worked. He wanted the man to forget his own name and for the only thing left, engraved in his mind would be how good Charles made him feel. Oh, how he wanted to ruin the man.

The last sober part of himself had fought every other terribly, drunkenly lusted part of his body saying those few words. Though in truth he did want to pleasure Arthur. It was just that he wanted to fuck him while doing so.

"Will it hurt?" Arthur's raspy voice came.

"What?"

"If I.. took it.. there. Would it hurt?"

"Not if I do it right."

"Okay."

"Okay..?"

"Lord, Charles- Are y'gon'make me say it?"

A smile drew upon his lips, "I wasn't. But now I am."

"You're a bastard, Mr. Smith."

"Bold choice of words for the man who holds your precious orgasm in the palm of his hand."

"You make it sound like a threat. I don't need you to get me off." He spat.

"Really.." Charles leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of Arthur's ear, "You really think I can't just tie you up? Leave you here, splayed out on the bed for whoever comes next. Your lassos right on the ground, at my disposal." The words sent all the blood to his cock, it cried for release as it leaked precum upon Arthur's belly. Charles reached a hand down, rubbing a calloused thumb over the head of the cock, "You like that, Arthur? If I tied you up with your own lasso. While your cock's begging to be touched. Weeping for release. You like that? If I left you here for someone else to find. Someone else to fuck." Charles was bluffing, anyone else who tried to fuck Arthur- let alone touch him wouldn't still be alive to try anything.

"Christ, Charles." He breathed. Each word had sent a shiver that travelled down to his cock, "I want you to fuck me."

"Really. Where are your manners?"

"Please." He gritted out, "Please fuck me, Charles."

"So sweet, aren't you, Arthur?"

Arthur merely rolled his eyes in response.

Charles travelled downwards. Trailing kisses down his neck. Down his torso and up to his ass. Purposefully avoiding the man's terribly hardened cock as he whined for friction. He pressed kisses around the man's puckered hole, earning sweet, sweet moans that'd leaked out of the man's sweet, sweet lips.

Suddenly, his tongue begun to stretch the man's tight ring of muscle, earning a sharp gasp from Arthur. He was invading uncharted territory, savouring the sounds Arthur made and how beautifully his body reacted each time his tongue moved around within him.

Finally he'd pulled away, earning a loud whine from the man writhing beneath him. Grabbing the back of his knees, spreading them further open, he spat on his hole, making a mess as he coated the spit around the hole with his fingers. A finger doused in spit pressed up against his hole, "I'm putting a finger in, Arthur."

Arthur nodded before feeling something stretch him out. The burning sensation was not enough for the man to tell him to stop. It didn't hurt, but it sure as hell hadn't felt good. Why any man would willingly want this was completely unfathomable. But then- if the man was doing it with Charles Smith, he wouldn't mind.

"Does it hurt?" He whispered, pushing the digit in and out of the hole in slow, unhurried motions, taking care not to hurt the man.

Arthur hated being treated so- kindly. So properly taken care of, as if he were something fragile- something worthy of care. It made him feel so pathetic. "No. Put another finger in."

Charles merely hummed in response, slipping out the digit before swiftly pushing two fingers deep within him. Thrusting inwards and out, he kept wondering whether the men who enjoyed taking it up the ass were delusional. No way in hell could this have felt good-

Oh. Oh.

This was good.

"A-Ah.. More- there, Charles." He whined, it felt too good for him to be ashamed of the near ludicrous sounds he let out. Curling his thick fingers upwards, Charles massaged the man's sweet spot, splitting both fingers apart, scissoring him from within as he stretched him apart.

Briskly, he pulled out both fingers and pushed them back in, along with an additional digit as he spread them all out, stretching him out so well the uncomfortably pleasurable burn had morphed into a terribly intensified pleasure. He wasn't aware of the sounds he'd made, all he could focus on was how much Charles's perfect fingers stretched him out.

It wasn't enough. He wanted more.

"Fuck me Charles. P-Please, I need you."

"So polite now, Arthur.." He could hear the smile in Charles's tone as he felt him press more kisses around his collarbone.

"Please, Charles.."

"Since you asked so nicely."

He pulled his fingers out, soaked and wet with his own fluids. Swiftly, he pulled off his shirt and spat on his own cock, aligning its length in-between Arthur's flawlessly imperfect ass cheeks. It rubbed against his hole, he couldn't wait anymore- he felt so empty. So- So-

Full.

Fuck..

Charles had pushed all the way in, from the head to base, he took it all in. He forgot the girth of the man's cock, how thick and heavy it'd laid on his tongue earlier. Fuck. It stretched him out. His cock rubbed at the walls of his ass, just grazing upon his prostate. "Fuck, you're tight.." Charles groaned, placing a hand under his knee, rubbing circles upon the skin with the pad of his thumb in attempts of comfort, "Relax, love.. Just tell me to stop and I will." Arthur nodded.

Despite feeling Arthur relax around his cock, the warmth enveloping him still felt as if it was clenching around him. Threatening him to stay, restraining him from pulling out.

"I'm going to move now, Arthur." Another nod.

Slowly, he pulled out and slowly, he pushed in. Repeating these motions 'till he felt the man completely relax around him. He picked up the pace, thrusting in faster. Harder. Arthur began to whine loudly. Too loud.

Charles moved his legs which had previously wrapped loosely around his hips, upwards. His shoulders just beneath Arthur's knees. The position allowed Charles to hit deeper within him. Every brutal thrust inwards inflicted such terrible abuse upon Arthur's bruised prostate. Arthur loved every bit of it.

Pushing Arthur's knees against his chest, near folding him half, he whispered to the man, "Quiet down, Arthur. We can't have people hearing your sweet noises, now can we?"

Arthur merely babbled incoherent syllables before clamping his hands over his mouth. Adorable.

He hadn't assumed Arthur to take him so literally.

"You're so beautiful, Arthur.." He repeated for likely the millionth time during their encounter. Taking in Arthur's beautifully flushed and freckled face along with his beautifully glassy eyes as tears spilled out of them. He pressed kisses along those tears, tasting the salt on his lips, "So, so beautiful.." He whispered, burying his face in the crook of the man's neck, sucking and biting at his neck, leaving bruises and marks, that he was sure wouldn't leave for at least a week.

Arthur unclasped his hands from his mouth, "Ch-Charles, I-I'm- I'm gonna-"

"Go ahead, sweetheart.." He mumbled into his skin.

Arthur's moans grew louder and far more risqué as he wrapped his arms around the back of Charles's neck. "A-Ah! More, more, Charles! Pl..ease- There! Right there!"

As his pleas grew needier, his whines grew more lubricious. His intensifying grip around his neck reminding Charles of his strength. Despite how strong the man was, he submitted so willingly to Charles. Oh, how he loves the man.

Nearing his release, he let out louder cries that practically flooded the enclosed space, he didn't bother to silence Arthur, now uncaring of the possibility of them both being hanged if someone were to discover the intimacy of the position the were in. Instead, he revelled in the sweet symphony of his whines, his cries and his moans. He relished in the scent of sweat coating Arthur's olive skin and the sweet scent of sex as he fucked faster and harder into Arthur.

Hot, white cum spurted in-between their bodies. Onto Arthur's abdomen and Charles's toned belly. Dazing through Arthur's post-orgasm haze, he didn't feel Charles stop. Instead he fucked him harder. Faster. Arthur felt like he was going to burst from such overstimulation, "C-Charles, a-ahh, stop! Stop, stop, stop please- it's, it's too much!" But he didn't stop. Instead, a hand wrapped around his worn out cock, pumping it hard as his erection reformed.

"You can take it, Arthur.. You promised to make me feel good, didn't you?" He continued fucking him, rubbing hard on the terribly sensitive crown of his cock.

"Yes- Yes, Charles.." He moaned, "A-Ahh- I can't cum no more, Charles! Please-"

"You can, love.. C'mon.."

Arthur merely whined in response, squirming powerlessly beneath him. It was all too much. Everything felt like too much. Arthur soon felt his orgasm bubbling up as Charles fisted his once-again hardened cock. Feeling Charles pounding harshly within him whilst pumping his cock was too much- He was gonna- gonna-

"I-I'm gonna cum, Arthur.." He heard the low pitch of Charles's voice.

"M-Me too." He forced out, lacking the mundane ability to string together proper sentences due to having his brains fucked out by the man above him.

He let out the loudest moan known to man. It near shook the entire saloon but he was far too fucked out to be embarrassed of the noise. The man was utterly debauched.

The warmth of Charles nearly depleted as he felt the man about to pull out before he wrapped his legs tighter around him, "Cum- inside.."

The sight of Arthur was enough to make Charles heed his plea without a thought. He hummed, fucking him harder as he chased his release.

Finally- through his own orgasm, he felt a warm, viscous liquid released inside him. It felt so good. His load felt never ending, it continued to spurt out all over his ass after Charles pulled out. Such a position should've made him feel degraded, pathetic, instead- he felt completely raptured. The feeling of Charles's semen all over him nearly made him hard again.

Staring at his own thick cum spilling out of Arthur's so very reddened and swollened asshole, the white droplets sliding the bruised skin of both his inner and outer thighs that pressed so tightly together. He couldn't help but admire the work he'd done.

His eyes trailed upwards from Arthur's terribly abused hole to his wonderfully rubescent face; taking in how his eyes brimmed with saltwater as they so gracefully fell down his rosy, freckled cheeks. As if he'd lost himself in the mere sight on Arthur. In his red, swollened lips; glistening and nitid, wet from their shared , sloppy kisses. They parted slightly, taking in shallow breaths, panting from the sex mere moments before.

"Why're you lookin' at me like that?" Arthur spoke, his voice raspy, never-changing.

"Like what?" Charles responded breathlessly.

"Like you wanna goddam' eat me." A chuckle from Charles.

"Maybe I do." He pushed apart Arthur's bruised thighs and leaned into him, pressing more kisses at his already purpling jaw. "Charles Smith." He whispered, his tone meaning to be teasing but coming out broken and breathy.

"Arthur Morgan." He said in response at the shell of the man's ear.

Charles rolled off of Arthur, laying at his side. "I can't believe that just happened." Charles sighed ever-so blissfully, as if all his troubles had just been washed away and the sex they just had had granted him the secrets of eternal life.

"Y'mean- the fuckin'? Or the fact that it was with a man."

"The fact that it was with you."

"Oh." Arthur's eyes began to avoid his gaze, his cheeks beginning to redden as he muttered several minor words, "I can't believe it too well either."

"Y'know.." Charles turned to him, a hand reaching out to trace his cheekbone with his knuckles, "I've been wantin' this for so long now."

"You're kiddin'"

"Not at all." He swallowed, the alcohol that continued to coarse through his veins gave him courage to utter these pathetically buried feelings. Feelings he'd never admit to if well and sober. It was now or never. "I.. I've been interested in you for a while now."

"Since Colter?"

"Since Blackwater."

"You- Charles.." He stammered, unable to find the words to say, Charles merely chuckled at his bashfulness.

"It's alright Arthur. I knew those feelings would go nowhere," He'd uttered, Arthur missed the hint of sadness within his words, "The moment I heard you speak- your quick wit as well as your sarcastic quips, they immediately charmed me. You were just so oddly charismatic, and your beauty- Arthur. Your beauty. You were breathtaking. You are breathtaking."

Arthur couldn't utter a single word, his face merely continued to overheat as his mouth stood agape. "In Colter, when Mr. Pearson asked you to go hunting with me- My heart absolutely flipped. I jumped at the chance."

"Yeah, it was weird that you wanted to help me out. Y'know 'cause o' your hand an' whatnot."

"You wanna know how I injured my hand, Arthur?"

"Been wonderin' for a while now."

"In Blackwater, durin' the heist- when you came to the boat, I saw a fella'. Probably a Pinkerton, wasn't sure. But he aimed his gun at you, I didn't think- I just put my hand at the barrel then knocked 'im out after."

A pause. His eyes traced the apple at Arthur's throat, watching how it bobbed as he swallowed. Watching how he took Charles's hand off his face and held it so very gently. Arthur Morgan. The Van der Linde gang's toughest, most intimidating member. The man he'd just fucked. That same man held him so, so softly. Tracing the grooves and bumps of his dark knuckles as well as the veins behind his terribly calloused hand. Then he spoke, looking up to reach his eyes, "Shoulda let me get shot."

Charles merely smiled, "I know. I'm a fool."

They laid beside each other, bathing it the afterglow of their previous activities. The only thing on both of their minds being the unknown mutual hope that it wouldn't be the last time they were so intimate. So Arthur broke the silence. "You tired, Charles?"

"Not.. in particular."

"Think you can go another round?"

An imperceptible smile, quirked upon Charles's lips, "I could go for several more rounds."

With those words, Arthur got up and straddled the man all in one swift motion. He leaned downwards, pressing their lips together for the millionth time.

His hands reached down to Charles's pants, "You gotta get these off though."

"No rush. We have all night.

The thought of Charles's fucking him into the mattress all the way 'till morning made his dick twitch. He kissed Charles once more, whispering through the kiss, "I wanna have our whole life."

He took a breath. "Let's have that then."

When the sun rose, casting it's amber hues across the rented lodging of their room and bathing the town with its slight warmth, Arthur's eyes fluttered open, wandering blearily around the foreign room before landing on the sleeping face of Charles.

Charles.

Charles?

He stared at the man beside him, the strong, sculpted arms wrapped around him. He couldn't move if he tried. The memories of the night before blurred through his mind, a flush crawling up his neck. Untrusting of his own intoxicated mind, he looked beneath the thin, cream blanket that barely covered them as it was clearly meant for merely a single person. As if their naked bodies pressed together and the near dried cum spilling out of his ass wasn't enough proof, the sight of Charles's bare cock underneath the blanket surely was.

Attempting to shuffle within Charles's death gripping bear hug, still processing the knowledge of getting fucked by the man the night before. Multiple times. The memory of Charles's cum in his mouth still lingered. The taste of salt and texture of slime that would've made him puke if it was anyone else but last night- was absolutely intoxicating.

With curious eyes he looked at Charles, taking in every curve and crevice on his face. Seeing things he'd never seen before. Every pore was visible, as was every spot of hair that trailed from his chin to his jaw. The memory of Charles's words to him as he laid beside him upon the white, dirtied mattress sheets made Arthur's heart absolutely dance. In truth, he'd felt the same. Ever since speaking to him at Colter, all that lingered within his mind was the faint thought of Charles. If the night before hadn't happened he'd never admit the fact he felt this way about another man. He didn't even know how he felt.

Suddenly Charles's eyes opened, blinking a few times as he looked at Arthur with half-lidded eyes. A lopsided smile bloomed upon his face, "G'morning, Arthur." He leaned nearer, pressing a kiss on his lips. The action made his heart thud so hard upon his ribcage he feared it'd explode. "Mornin'.." He forced out.

He didn't know how to act, considering the fact that they'd fucked continuously throughout dusk, passing out just before dawn. He hadn't had sex in years. Not since Eliza's death.

Charles merely continued to run a hand through Arthur's sandy, uncut locks, long overdue for a haircut. "I still can't believe last night." He heard Charles murmur.

"Neither can I."

A smile from Charles. "Thank you, Arthur." He looked at Charles, into his eyes, noticing the slightest bit a sorrow within them. As if unwillingly acceptant of the fact that last night was and inevitably would be nothing more than a one night stand. Charles parted his lips, as if wanting to say more. But the words never left those soft lips.

"What for?"

"Last night. Helping me blow off steam."

Oh.

Was that all it was to Charles? Were all the sweet nothings said the night before just a result of too much whiskey?

"Arthur?" Charles's voice, "You alright?"

Before he could stop it, the words ran out of his mouth, "I don't want last night to be the last."

"What?"

"I-" Fuck. He'd already said all that. Might as well. "I wanna do it again. With you. "

"Right now?"

"No- Charles. I mean-" He was never one for words. He wasn't even that good at English himself. "Arthur."

He looked up. Charles smiled.

He spoke.

"I'd like that."

"Yeah?" Arthur had never been the emotional kind but fuck. The knowledge that it wouldn't be the end made him near tear up. Or maybe getting fucked in the ass had shredded up his masculinity.

Nah.

"Yeah." Charles couldn't stop smiling. Fuck, the man was handsome.

"But- ignoring what I just said, you ain't too tired for another fuck, are you?"

Charles only laughed, crawling on top of Arthur and smashing their lips together through the laughter that bubbled throughout.

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