#the huge gap IS necessary

[cookieshower]

surprisingly i'm not a big hater (only 2) 🤓 tier from twt

#op forgot A Lot of non euro chara... well! #had to add sea+ind+sey #everyone else not listed is middle tier #the huge gap IS necessary #newer micronations on 🥱next tier too

[randomshyperson]

Sanctify - Cult Leader!Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Kinktober #06

Summary: After your worst semester at NYU, your Aunt Agatha convinces you to join the Children of Chaos as an alternative, and very expensive form of therapy. Leaving the cult becomes a very difficult task when you develop an unexpected affection for their leader.

Warnings: (+18), dom!wanda and brat!reader, rough smut, face-fucking, power dynamics, brat taming (ish), praising, lots of tension and teasing, definitely blasphemous on some levels, a lot of plot, mentions of past toxic relationship, unspecified age gap.  | Words: 7.900k

A/N-> I’ve been dying to write something about Cult Leader Wanda since I watched the second season of Yellowjackets and became obsessed with Lottie Matthews, so while writing this, I was picturing Lottie’s cult to be fair. I also like how I ended this, as it makes it possible to turn it into a series. Good reading!

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

Although the movement of the car brought a gentle breeze through the window, the weather was hot enough to actually make thinking painful.  In an attempt to relieve the temperature a little, and perhaps escape Aunt Aggie's provocative reminiscences about the long journey and the events that made this trip necessary in the first place, you put your arm on the door, and propped your chin up, your face on the safety edge outside the window.

New York had been out of sight for hours and had given way to countless trees and a plantation further and further away. You figured it wouldn't take long for the radio signal to stop working, but to your pleasant surprise, the soft melody of cassette tapes hidden in the glove compartment by Nicholas were picked up once that happened.

Your cousin had grown up over the summer - His still youthful appearance now featured neatly cut curly hair and reading glasses that he often hung on the collar of his shirt. When younger, it was common to hear how much he resembled Sir. Scratch, his scumbag father in the words of Agatha and the other adults, not yours - but over time, he looked much more like his mother.

Nick met your gaze through the rearview mirror and gave you an assuring smile. You didn't reciprocate, but not because you were upset. Just because you were distracted by the huge sign coming around the next corner. 

"Oh, boy, I've missed this place." Agatha commented with a nostalgic sigh, as soon as she noticed the entrance plaque. She slowed down enough that the wind wasn't enough anymore, so you returned to your original position with a low snort.

"There's still time to turn around." You muttered, getting a warning look from the older woman.

She leaned over, without answering you, to grab something from the open glove compartment. You pushed your hair back as a pamphlet was dropped into your lap.

"I know you hated the idea, but you need to trust your elders for once in your life, darling." Agatha began, as you grimaced at the crumpled paper. The title Children of Chaos was painted in red, but it was faded in several places. "The 70s were the apex for this place, I had a lot of fun here. It's such a unique experience, connecting with nature and the chaos that is part of us all."

Nick chuckled through his nose. "Mom, don't start your witch thing again, you'll scare her." Mocked your cousin from the passenger seat, but Agatha waved him off.

"She'll thank me when she gets there, I'm sure." 

But you didn't do that. When the car finally came to a stop, and what looked more like a fancy farm merged with the forest took over your vision, all you did was crumple the Immersive Community pamphlet into your pocket and throw your old backpack over your shoulder.

Aunt Aggie and your cousin hugged you tightly, saying they were going to write, but they couldn't get past the reception desk since they weren’t part of the program. You saw Agatha take your mom’s borrowed credit card out of her purse to start your so-called treatment, and the last goodbyes left your tongue before one of the tutors started the tour of the place.

In between presenting a large number of different huts that served as dormitories and classrooms for the most diverse activities - painting, handicrafts or poetry were the ones you memorized - Mr. Emil Blonsky also took the time to welcome you, emphasizing how incredible the community was and how lucky anyone was to be there. You bit your tongue to keep from telling him that only those with money could.

Finally, Blonsky showed you the stables and greenhouses on the edge of the property, and on the way back to the rest of the huts, you noticed the path up the hill.

"And what's up there?" 

The man stopped walking with a small smile. He was wearing clothes very similar to those of the other people you'd seen on the tour, the difference being a golden necklace with a strange symbol that was hidden by the movement of his loosely buttoned shirt.

"We must not go up there without permission." He begins, although he's smiling, there's something in his gaze that says this rule cannot be disrespected. " The Prophetess' Retreat is a sacred place of peace and reflection." 

You look back at the hut at the bottom of the mountain, far enough away that you can't make out the decorations on the balcony, but still beautiful and quiet, high enough to make it look like the prophet had her own little piece of heaven.

"So, no bothering the boss without asking? Got it." You retort, getting a chuckle from the other at the summary. He starts walking again along the path towards the general area, but you can't help the curiosity burning in your chest. "About this prophet, will she be isolated up there or will I get a chance to meet her?"

Blonsky walks up beside you, and looks you in the eye to say; "You'll meet her when it's time to meet her, not early and not late."

You don't know what to say to that, everything here is so theatrical in a way. Mystical, you might say. It suits Aunt Aggie so well, that it's not hard to imagine her here, dancing to the midnight moon and talking to the trees. She already does that in New York, it should have been much simpler in the middle of the forest.

"Come, child. You must start the cleaning process soon." Announces the man as he picks up the pace on the trail. With a sigh, you decide not to contradict him by saying that you bathed before coming, thank you. 

It was soon revealed that the cleansing process really meant a bath - the colleagues around you who helped you laughed when you joked that it was a strange way of saying that someone stinks, before clarifying that it was nothing of the sort. The Cleansing Process was a bath of salts and herbs, in a tub of stones and some kind of botanical baptism, the latter of which only members who had completed thirteen full moons could take part in. You would be invited to the baptism with the prophet's blessing, but there was still a long way to go.

Blonsky handed your uniforms, and explained the last rules before leaving you alone, or almost, since your hut was shared with six other people, and despite this, it seemed very comfortable and organized. There were bunk beds and private bathroom spaces, and at least three spacious shelves for each. The latter wouldn't be of much use to you, since you'd brought almost nothing and the vast majority of your belongings had been left at NYU. Just thinking about that place gave you a terrible stomach ache: You would have skipped dinner, but the mere suggestion of not attending made one of your colleagues frown in concern and repeat the rules, so you ended up giving that up.

The routine that followed was calm: it didn't surprise you that the new members were responsible for the hardest tasks, and it didn't bother you either. You were never afraid of hard work, and keeping your hands busy also helped to calm your mind, so it was a win-win. Besides, even if you didn't get the jobs nobody wanted, all veterans had chores. There was some rule about the amount of service time and dedication being rewarded, so those senior members could choose what they wanted to do first. 

You didn't have to worry about this anyway: you would do what you had to do because, after all, the agreement was to stay here only for the summer. However, with each passing day away from exams, traffic, and New York's typical filth, it became harder to imagine leaving the Children of Chaos and their strange harmony and kindness.

After three weeks in the group, you learned to knit. You also earned the privilege of mail when you showed up for all your appointments without delay and decided to check the items in the privacy of your cabin during the last hour of prayer.

Since you hadn't yet found your faith or received your calling or whatever weird way Blonsky explained this, you barely joined in the prayer sessions. This evening, excited to receive news from home, was no different.

Aunt Aggie wrote about the store doing well and mentioned your mother, who didn't write to you with more than vague words about hoping you'd feel better soon. The best present was hidden in Nicholas' letter about the university being a sack without his favorite cousin. Wrapped in silk and next to a lighter.

You haven't earned the right to write outside yet - something about a month in isolation to accomplish. So you just clutched the items to your chest and wished your cousin knew how grateful you were.

Your initial intention was to save the weed for some more stressful day - which was rare in the leisurely pace of this place - but the last letter made you consider using it all that night.

The recipient's perfect handwriting, and the address you knew by heart. You didn't even open the item, you put it away in your drawer and stood up with the weed hidden in your pants pocket.

The common area was empty, as the vast majority of your colleagues were praying. You stepped up to one of the bonfires and threw the unopened letter into the flames, without hesitation and without caring to see it burn. You turned on your heels and continued along the trail, heading for one of the few more secluded spots you had discovered during the hours of exploring between tasks.

The rules were clear about the prophet's hut but said nothing about the road towards it. And since apparently everyone there was afraid of upsetting the boss, that spot was always empty and the perfect place to smoke in hiding.

You leaned against a tree, curled up and lit the weed, and tried to keep away all the painful memories about last semester that the damn letter had brought up.

You were halfway through a joint when you heard a voice at the end of the trail next to you.

"Good evening, Y/N."

"Jesus fucking Christ." You gasped, jumping with fright and almost dropping the blunt to the ground. You looked sideways abruptly, imagining that you were hallucinating because of the weed, and were almost sure that you were when the words escaped you due to the apparition in front of you. The most beautiful woman you've ever seen in your life. Instead of a uniform, she wore a loose dark wine dress that hugged her curves perfectly; her long red hair cascaded down her shoulders and back and her emerald eyes shone curiously in your direction. The dim light from the fire lamps scattered along the trail and the moon really made the woman look like an angel. 

You coughed awkwardly. "Sorry, you scared me." You clarified, the cigarette hidden behind your back a stupid attempt to mask what you were doing. Sure enough, your pupils were dilated, and it was very easy to see the smoke. So, as soon as you tried to hide it, you gave up, offering the woman an awkward chuckle and gesturing the cigarette gently. "Don't tell on me."

There was a soft pause, which you couldn't tell from the intoxication in your system. The woman watched for a moment as the charming gesture of bringing the cigarette to the smile formed on your lips and blew the smoke into the starry sky with your neck slightly stretched. Your mind seemed to clear, and before the woman could speak, you grimaced. "Wait, didn't you just say my name? How..?"

She smiled, folding her hands in front of her body. "It was premeditated that we met today, of course. I'm Wanda."

You've heard her name before, in conversation circles and in advertisements about her heavenliness hanging around. 

"Shit." It was your natural reaction, which made her laugh softly, and it must have been the weed's fault that the sound echoed in your mind and made your body shudder.

"Don't worry, I won't snitch on you." She assures you with an easy smile playing on her lips, and you swallow dry, completely at a loss.

"Thanks... but I thought you were the boss." You mumble, and Wanda makes a funny expression, like a false realization. 

"Oh, you're right." She murmurs amusedly. "I think I can let this one slide if you'll share it with me." 

"Fuck, of course, here." Your limbs feel strange, almost too heavy to move around her. You awkwardly hand her the cigarette, certain that your face is flushed. Hell, the last time you were this clumsy was last semester, with-

"You swear a lot." Wanda's comment pulls you out of your daze. She takes a long drag before adding: "Especially for a Christian."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "My father's a Christian, not me." You retort, and end up grimacing. "And how do you know-"

"This is a very exclusive program, sweetheart." Wanda cuts you off again, the cigarette between her fingers but her gaze is completely focused on your face. "Having a lot of money or being someone's niece isn't enough to guarantee you a spot, but a good letter of recommendation might. And Agatha wrote me almost everything about you, except the reason for rushing to get you here before the next recruitment period."

The sentence was an invitation for you to speak, but you didn't fall for the bait. On the contrary, you looked away with tense shoulders, and Wanda didn't press. At least, not now. She took another drag before commenting more softly:

"We have general meetings every Wednesday. We encourage members to open up." 

You grimace softly. "Group therapy isn't my thing."

But Wanda smiles lopsidedly, giving you back the joint. " Neither is nice weed." She retorts a little provocatively, attracting your attention. "If you want to try something new, show up next week. And if you want to try something good, you should try the weed from our greenhouse. It won't taste like crushed dirt." Adjusting her hair around her shoulders, she offers you a wink. "Have a good night, darling."

You think about the color of her eyes for the rest of the night.

-&-

Sooner than you'd expect, you'll discover that Wanda isn't the type to let things slide. Far from it, she notices everything, especially those who are being too slack and prone to not following the teachings of the Children of Chaos, possibly ruining their record of total efficiency or something.

She puts an end to your plans for a quiet summer, trying to go unnoticed among the countless other followers just as abruptly as she left her meditation hut. Wanda seems to appear at every moment that you consider escaping from your commitments - it even occurs to you that she has a particular interest in watching you, but the idea sounds so absurd that you push it away while forcing a polite smile before returning to your duties.

Less than two weeks after you met, you finally stopped avoiding Group Therapy and showed up on time to join the session. The presence of Wanda, in a loose dark purple dress and her red hair tied up in a neat braid, makes you almost give up, convinced that you couldn't say anything without stuttering in the presence of such a stunning woman.

But she offers a gentle smile, opening her arms softly. "Come along, darling, you're just in time." She greets and you stumble towards a corner in the background, begging the gods that you can attend in silence this time.

It doesn't seem so difficult when it's other people doing it. A young man with whom you've already shared the task of looking after the stables spoke of the frustrations of returning from enforced service with a missing limb, and how the support he didn't get from the government and family members, he found here. Bucky received a finger-snapping applause - something that was explained to you as a way to avoid triggers on the countless ex-combatants or victims of post-traumatic stress that make up the crowd - before giving his turn to another ex-military woman, Carol Danvers.

More stories were shared until Wanda's gaze fell on your slumped figure and she called your name. All the attention in the room fell on you too, and you chuckled awkwardly.

"Thanks, but I'm not good at public speaking." You retorted, but Wanda, with her hands folded over her stomach, gave you a gentle smile.

"Don't worry about it, dear, this is a no-judgment zone." She says, but you make no mention of getting up, and her gaze becomes more insistent. "It's important that we all make an effort to be present at these exercises. We encourage participation around here. Come along, dear, please." And she smiled so kindly that you could only trust her.

The group offered a small chorus of encouragement, and before you knew it, you were a few steps away from the redhead, who held out her hands for your wrists.

"I want you to take a deep breath and close your eyes." Wanda guided, her melodic voice bringing goose bumps all over your body. "Turn all your attention inward. And tell me, is there anything in there that you'd like to share with the group?"

The memories of last semester hit you full force. But Wanda massages your wrists and it feels as if she can calm down the whole storm inside of you.

You sigh, before opening your eyes. "I... I don't know where to start." Your whisper is met by another chorus of support from the members, who retort that you're safe. Wanda releases your wrists to sit with the others, and you try not to be so self-conscious while you're in the spotlight. "I think I can share with you the reason why I'm here." You declare a moment later, taking another deep breath.

Bucky gives you an encouraging smile, mimicking that of the people around him, and you swallow.

"I don't have a history of fighting and overcoming war or any illnesses, so I'm sorry to disappoint anyone." You mumble, receiving confused looks.

The former sergeant assures you: "No problem competes with another. All our pains have their importance." And it seems to be something that has already been repeated here a few times because everyone shakes their heads in agreement.

You scratch the back of your head awkwardly. "Right... well, I won't beat around the bush. A month ago, when I was first enrolled here, I had just been kicked out of my house. Well, it wasn't exactly my house anymore, because I'd been living on campus for about three years, but I think you get the idea." You say, laughing awkwardly at the anxiety in your chest. You try to clear your throat so that your voice doesn't come out so shaky, but only Wanda's gaze really helps to calm your nerves. "And the reason for this was a relationship that my parents, more specifically my mother, didn't approve of. To be fair, no one really approved, because, well, the person... hm, I don't think there's any other way to put it, was another woman. An older woman, and also my professor. And well, the whole thing would have been a scandal anyway, but I really let myself believe that when the worst was over, we'd be fine. Bad news, we weren't." You laugh sadly. You pause, imagining that you'll get judgmental looks, but everyone listens attentively. "For a while, I thought the worst part was afterward. When everyone knew and judged me, and how my mother freaked out, and I tried... but no. The worst part was not realizing what that love if I can call it that, was doing to me. How ill it was making me. And until I got here, learned things about myself, and managed to take a break from everything that was left behind... For a while, I really hoped to go back and fix everything, but now... damn, sometimes I don't even think about leaving this place."

The group celebrates quietly, exchanging words of encouragement. Your ears feel warm, and Wanda stands up again. "You can stay as long as you need, darling." She says, massaging your forearm. She calls someone else to speak, but doesn't miss the opportunity to whisper in your ear: "I'm proud, stay a little longer today, I want to talk to you." 

And you think you haven't absorbed anything for the rest of the morning.

Eventually, the session ends, and as soon as the room is empty, Wanda turns her face towards you.

"You were brave today, sweetheart." 

Your hands, busy putting the cushions away, tremble a little. But you offer her an incredulous chuckle.

"Yeah, right." It's your answer, which makes Wanda frown in curiosity. At her inquisitive silence, you sigh before clarifying: "Everyone's nice, but I know it's kind of silly that my big trauma is a break-up and not post-traumatic stress from war or something that actually matters."

Wanda presses her lips together, studying you for a moment, and you take the opportunity to put away the last of the cushions. Suddenly, she says:

"This lack of respect for your own feelings comes from parental negligence, I suppose."  You turn your face away in surprise, but Wanda gives you a small smile: "James wasn't lying when he said that no pain should compete with another. We all have our internal and external battles, and we shouldn't belittle our pain. I believe we should honor it, and wear it. And here, dear, you will learn to do that." Wanda makes her way around to one of the cupboards at the back, and you watch her movements in silence, from reaching into one of the last drawers to returning to you with an item in hand. "I have an invitation for you."

She opens the box she's brought, and inside is a necklace very similar to the one the instructors wear. The main difference is the symbol, the crown that Wanda also carries on the pendant around her neck. You frown in confusion.

"What is it?"

She wraps the item between her fingers, her gaze on you. "The disciple's necklace. The last one from the current solstice." 

You imitate the gesture, touching the item with the tips of your fingers. Wanda doesn't move her hand away as your fingers brush together, and you ignore your own shyness as you watch her bite her lip for a moment. "I don't understand what it means."

She licks her lips, and the movement doesn't go unnoticed by your eyes. "It means that you would be my apprentice. You would accompany me during periods of meditation, you would study my teachings closely, you would be... entirely dedicated to..."

"You?" you add, and Wanda lets out a shuddering breath, warm against your cheek. When did she get so close?

"If you wish." She whispers, and you pull away gently, your face hot but the last thread of sanity in your mind.

"I'm sure there are more experienced members dying for this position. It wouldn't be right-"

Wanda shakes her head, interrupting you. "They weren't chosen. You were." She assures you, pressing the box with the necklace against your chest. "And if it wasn't you, the place would be empty until the next solstice. You don't have to accept it, darling. It's not a summons. It's an invitation."

You sigh, holding the box against your chest. "I just... I've never done anything like this. I don't want to mess things up."

There's a bell in the distance, signaling the start of the next activities. Wanda glances outside briefly before stepping close enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth that makes your whole body heat up at once.

"Just listen to your instincts." She whispers, before pulling away with a small smile.

You write to Agatha about it the following evening, but you don't have the courage to seal the letter for sending. The whole conversation with Wanda seems too private to be shared in this way. 

Although the woman said it was just an invitation, you could feel some pressure to make a decision, and it seems that the news had been circulating ever since one of the tutors couldn't find the box of the last chaos disciple pendant, and Wanda ended up mentioning that she had extended another invitation.

In a way, you were stalling. Between your activities and meetings, you hadn't made any decisions and you hoped that the end of the summer would force Wanda to choose someone else. But there was also the question of the new, burning feelings that had appeared since you first laid eyes on her, and which seemed to awaken every time you two were in the same environment. 

The idea of departing, of leaving her behind like a closed chapter in your life, seemed absurd every passing day.

In your second month with the Chaos Children, you received a rather unusual request: take the prophet her morning drink.

The crumpled piece of paper was handed to you by one of your cabin mates: Kate Bishop. A former student, a little younger than you, who, after destroying a bell at the university, was sent here by her millionaire mother. Kate was to stay until she had balanced her irresponsible impulses and could take over the family's security empire.

She seemed a little reluctant to interrupt your concentration on cleaning the garden, but much more determined not to disappoint Wanda.

"Just give it to the kitchen staff, they'll know what to do. And prioritize, she doesn't like to wait." Said the girl, but you gave her hand a gentle tug before taking the paper.

"But why did she ask me?" you asked, but Kate had no idea and just shrugged before leaving the garden.

While the kitchen staff prepared the item, you tried to improve your appearance in the bathroom next to the lounge, wiping all the soil from the plants from under your fingers, and even what had run into your cheeks. 

When you came out, there was another order on the counter and a small group of people who hadn't been there before. They didn't see you. Blonsky, accompanied by two other women you didn't know, were talking to each other.

"I bet it was Carter. She hasn't stopped talking about her private piano lessons with the Prophetess for four whole weeks." Said the first, but the other laughed quietly.

" Sharoon is a simp, that's all. Wanda wouldn't choose her after the episode with Rogers last year, she knows she can't trust her." Rebutted the other. "Besides, I would have assumed it was Bishop, after all, she already acts like a maid. Why train another when you already have one so dedicated?" The women laugh amongst themselves until they finally notice you approaching, and fall silent. Blonsky smiles, but he appears very vicious. 

"Hello, miss. Wouldn't you like to have a say in who our next disciple is?" He asks you, but you shrug, moving forward in the queue in front of the canteen to grab the prophet's items that were clearly being prepared in priority. 

"I don't know anything about it." That's your answer, but the shorter woman gets in your way.

"Come on, dear, it's easy." She begins with a giggle. "Every solstice, the prophetess chooses her disciples. There are 24 of them, 12 of whom will become apostles after their apprenticeship."

You grimace softly. "It's very biblical."

Blonsky chuckles. "Of course, it is, despite the multiculturalism of our group, Wanda was raised in a Jewish Christian home. You're not going to tell me you didn't know that?"

You clear your throat. "Not really. Sorry, I have to run."

But the man puts a hand in your way, only to stretch his body out on the counter and reach for some colored leaves that he crushes and drops into Wanda's glass.

"She likes it this way. I would know, I prepared many when I was her houseboy for the first few weeks here." He says, and you swallow dry, mumbling an awkward thank you before hurrying off.

The path is a little tiring, you think it makes sense of Wanda's physique if she had to climb that trail every day, and you mentally curse yourself for thinking about her body. It's not at all appropriate, honestly.

The door is open, but you knock anyway. The woman inside, wearing her typical long, loose dresses at the edge, is busy finishing a loose fringe in her hair and offers you a smile.

"Come in, dear." 

You do so a little awkwardly, almost overwhelmed by the moment of entering the most private place in the whole camp. It's a beautiful cabin, you let her know, without stopping to admire the perfectly arranged surroundings. You would have thought that the privacy of this place would allow her to make some kind of personal mess, but everything is impeccably in place.

Wanda approaches to pick up the items, and the smile falters on her face at the first sip of her drink.

"Did you put... did you put maca root in this?" She asks, and your natural reaction is a short laugh.

"I didn't prepare it, Wanda."

But she doesn't smile again, her tone of voice remains the same but her attitude changes to one of false kindness. "My morning drink is an ashwagandha. I need my concentration to increase, not my libido." It really sounded like a scolding, and her attitude of handing the cup back to you, accompanied by the memory of the recent events, made your blood boil.

"Well, I'm not your fucking maid, so if it's not good, get another one downstairs, or even better, make it one yourself."

It's the first time you see any kind of fury in her gaze, hot and vibrant, and it makes something in you rouse. Your mention of leaving the cabin is prevented by her hands closing the door and trapping you against the wood.

Wanda takes a deep breath, and the gleam in her eyes changes. "Can I ask... where did this attitude come from?"

You hold the glass tightly against your body, very aware that you'll drop it if Wanda doesn't step away and let you breathe. "I just want to make things clear." You retort with a seriousness that doesn't do justice to the way your heart is racing. "I didn't come to this place to be your personal servant."

Wanda chuckles briefly, letting her gaze drop to your mouth. "Oh, of course not, darling." She whispers. "You're not the type to follow orders willingly. You'd do a terrible job."

Swallowing dryly, you retort: "And why am I here then?"

Wanda smiles innocently. "I asked you to bring my drink." It's her reply, clearly trying to tease you, and you snort impatiently.

"I bet you expected an answer. Well, I haven't made up my mind yet, so if there's nothing else, I'll just go."

Wanda moves to take the glass from you and put it on the table by the door. The next second, her hands are in yours.

"Don't be silly, of course, there's another reason." She retorts, pulling you along as she walks backward into the cabin. "I hear you love painting."

What you had assumed was her personal painting canvas is offered to you. The laugh that escapes you is shy and genuine.

"Wanda, I don't... paint anymore."

But she doesn't flinch, her hands still in yours. "I know you haven't since last semester. It was in the letter. But you've progressed so much, that I thought you could paint for me." When you don't answer, she makes such an adorable expression that your heart skips a beat. "Please?"

Wanda definitely knows how beautiful she is, and how those puppy-dog eyes can take her anywhere. You bite back a smile, agreeing, and almost forget to breathe when she jumps excitedly onto your neck, hugging it for a whole moment before letting go as if she hadn't turned you into a complete mess with one touch.

She doesn't complain about the cocktail again - instead, she drinks it entirely while you get comfortable on the painting stool, doodling for a few moments before starting to paint the only thing you could after so many months without touching a paintbrush.

It's only when the drawing is clearer on the frame that Wanda becomes restless again. Loud sighs take your attention away from the painting and towards her.

"Is something wrong?"

She smiles half-heartedly, and only now do you notice the soft color of her cheeks. "I shouldn't have ignored my own complaints and drunk that juice."

You frown in confusion, letting the brush rest next to the paints. "Was it that bad? If you want, I'll complain to the kitchen-"

Wanda chuckles, shaking her head and you have to shut up because she reaches over to push the canvas out of the way and stops right in front of you, close enough to touch.

"Remember what I said? About focus and about... my libido." She asks, and you can swallow dryly, looking up in the direction of her dilated eyes. She lets her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing the weight of her body gently into yours. "Well, I suppose you'll have to see for yourself. Hold out your hand sweetheart, no, no, down... yes, you can move my dress out of the way." Your trembling fingers brushed against her knee, and immediately obeyed the order. Slowly making your way under her dress, while Wanda bit her lip and watched you draw patterns on her thighs. Finally, your fingers reached the side of her underwear. Instead of pulling it down, you let the inks drop to the ground, and your other hand went under her dress too, repeating the same path as before while you and Wanda panted together. Your face fell forward, flush into her dress, and you pressed your nose against her, inhaling deeply the scent of arousal she exhaled so strongly.

Her hands squeezed your shoulders as yours began to pull down her panties right away. A moment later, gracefully as everything so far, she kicked the item aside and spread her legs gently so that you could slide your fingers between more easily.

You looked up the second your index finger met her warmth, gasping at the mischievous smile of the woman in front of you.

"All this time I've been here..." You started hoarsely, your fingers spreading the wetness between her folds, and enjoying the way Wanda's breath caught in her throat. "Were you this wet?" 

Despite the failure of her own breathing, and the way it's harder to stand up with your intimate stimulation, Wanda gives you a mischievous look and leans her forehead against yours, her red hair making a curtain between your faces. 

"I get like this every time I'm around you." She confesses, giving you a provocative tug on your lower lip that forces you to thrust inside her with more determination. Almost enough for her to lose her pose. Almost. "It's disconcerting, to be honest."

Your thumb presses down firmly on her clit, and Wanda almost buckles into you, the delicious sound that escapes her throat will be in your dreams for sure. "Well, should I apologize, high sanctity?"

She chuckles at the teasing hidden in the nickname, before leaning in completely and capturing your mouth in a fervent kiss that takes you out of orbit for a whole moment, intense enough for you to whimper into her tongue, and force her hips down into yours, practically begging her to grind your lap. Wanda's response to this is a dirty giggle mixed with a moan into your mouth.

Without breaking the kiss that turns into a much hungrier one the next second, you get to your feet, adjusting your hands to grab her thighs to pull her onto your lap and carry her around the room. Between stumbles, you press each other against the various surfaces of the room, tables, and cupboards, exchanging increasingly hot and desperate kisses, and you're pretty sure you're going to have Wanda against the bookshelf if she keeps grinding into your abdomen like that.

In a pause for breath, when she's still wedged between you and the bookcase, your mouth descends on her jaw and Wanda struggles to keep her eyes open. She whimpers shamelessly as your curious hands advance down her body, pulling her dress out of the way and leaving it barely hanging off her body for you to clasp your palms over her now-bare breasts.

Her patience for release is quickly exhausted by the precise stimulation of her breasts, your eager fingers teasing and pinching her nipples until you turn her into a whimpering mess. She gives a determined tug on the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your face back to hers in a hard, dirty kiss that makes you shudder. She breaks it only to give an order: 

"On your knees." And you groan in obedience, falling to the floor almost at once, desperately pulling her dress aside to force your face into her, now with nothing in the way. Wanda arches her back once your hot mouth finds her drenched cunt; her hands desperate for some kind of support on the shelves behind her, while her chest heaves and her hips are restless against your face. 

Your hungry mouth leisurely devours her, your tongue teasing her folds, spreading her wetness around and making a mess on your face. Your closed eyes show your dedication and surrender to the task, but Wanda tugs at your hair again, trying to gain a little control back and order you to quit the teasing and fuck her the way she needs you to. Fully dilated Irises then confronts her from between her legs, and Wanda loses her breath. 

"Beautiful." She panted, staring back, shamelessly grinding herself into your face. "So beautiful... fuck... on your knees for me... oh, God, detka." She struggles to compliment you, but her native language begins to escape mixed with English shortly afterward, her climax approaching. You moan contentedly at the scene, aware of the state of your own underwear from all this play. Wanda's body begins to betray her, trying to pull away so you grab her thighs with a strong grip, and one of her legs ends up over your shoulder, increasing your reach just the way she needs it to fall over the edge.

Wanda comes on your tongue, spasming against the books, and in a deep moan. You don't let her pull away, keeping her restless hips in place as you lick your way through her previous climax in search of a new one. Soon her whimpering protests at the overstimulation turn into begging, and you fail to hide the smug smile at feeling her so at your mercy for a second time.

She's so close, so close, that the Sokovian comes back to her tongue, but there's a sudden knock on the door, and all the stimulation is interrupted by your fright. Wanda gasps incredulously, losing the time to react in time due to her own lust, and having to watch you stumble away - quickly wiping her cum from your chin with the back of your hand - as she tries not to fall down on her shaking knees.

"Why the fuck did you stop?" she asks in frustration through her teeth, but you, with a very flushed face, look at her with a certain desperation.

"Wanda, there's someone at the door!" You retort as if it were a very justifiable reason to steal an orgasm from her. Wanda huffs angrily, lunging at you and ignoring your confused eyes to pull you upright by the collar of your shirt, hurriedly throwing you onto the mattress. "W-wanda, what?"

"Quiet." She cuts in, pushing your shoulders until you're lying down and following the movement of your body to straddle your lap. The person outside knocks again, and although she's pulling her off, and is still shaking from her last orgasm, Wanda manages to speak in the same tone of voice as she does every morning meeting: "What is it?"

Your protests are muffled when Wanda sits on your face, and in fact, you would have forgotten any guests if Blonsky's voice hadn't sounded in the next second.

"Good morning, Reverend, I've come to join you for today's service." Says the man, but Wanda has to bite her lip hard because you're eating her out again, somehow even better than before. "Reverend?"

Wanda shakes her head, frowning at the difficulty of maintaining a rational thought when she has your tongue inside her. "Hm, I'm not going today, Blonsky... Deliver the service in my place." She fails to sound so breathless and has to close her eyes when your hands grip her thighs tightly, holding her down. 

Blonsky then sounds concerned: "Aren't you feeling well, Reverence?"

Your nose nuzzles into her clit and Wanda reaches for the headboard, a satisfied sigh escaping her. "I feel great." She murmurs back and has to take a deep breath so that the next sound that escapes her isn't a moan. "Just busy. Anything else, Blonsky?"

The man clears his throat, Wanda has to press a hand against her own mouth as you reach another right spot. 

"Hm, yes, Reverend... As you know, the deadline for the selection of the disciple is coming to an end." He begins, luckily unable to hear the muffled sighs inside the room through the closed door. "I have expressed my concerns to Your Reverence about a premature choice of new members-"

Wanda snorts impatiently. "Are you really going to question my choices again, Blonsky?"

"N-no, reverend!" He defends himself quickly. "Never. I just worry that the... affinity, that Your Reverence has acquired for some new members, might affect your judgment about their vocations. The premature choice of a disciple could result in their departure from our community, and we know how the withdrawal of one of our own affects everyone..."

"Don't worry about it." Wanda cuts dry, and now, she's remarkably close to climaxing. She doesn't care about the roughness, she thrusts her hips frantically into your face, muffling your breathless moans. "Y/N is the best choice... she's... so-god... dedicated and-hm... talented-" Wanda's lucky you're quick to react too. She would have screamed to the ceiling, exposing all the inappropriate activities in the room if you hadn't grabbed her thighs and spun her on her back onto the mattress. She didn't have time to lose this orgasm by the brief interruption of your movements - your fingers took the place of your tongue when you hovered above her, and your free hand covered her mouth when you sank inside her again.

Wanda came harder than before, squeezing your fingers and wetting the bed. She clings to your body in a desperate grasp, shocked by the achievement over her body, and grateful for the muffling of her moans. You keep thrusting until she stops squirting on the sheets.

You only remember that Blonsky is still outside because he speaks again. "I'll take your word for it, Your Reverence. And I hope you've made a good choice." He says at last, the sound of his footsteps moving away is ignored by you and Wanda, who meet in a hot kiss in the next second.

Your fingers continue to thrust lightly inside her, even though Wanda shudders from the excessive stimulation. And despite this, she also controls the kiss, which slows down so that she can ask in between: "Tell me, love. Did I do it? A good choice."

You kiss her a little harder. "I still don't know... what I want... or what I should do, Wanda."

She brings one of her hands up to your wrist, stopping your movements. You open your eyes to look at her. Wanda smiles, but her eyes are very mischievous. "You think too hard when the answer is right here." She retorts, giving your hand a gentle tug. You follow her lead, and soon, you have your drenched fingers with her cum inside your mouth. Your hips move instinctively, pressing down on her, and Wanda giggles mischievously, her free hand trailing down your back to encourage the movement. "Don't you want that, baby? You can be all mine."

You suck your fingerprints clean, removing them from your mouth to support yourself on the mattress now that you're so wildly grinding your hips against Wanda's thigh. She doesn't let you indulge in the sensation, grabbing your cheek and stopping your hips with the other at your silence.

Your soft protest is ignored, and your voice is almost a pathetic plea when it comes out. "It's not fair... I was feeling so good."

"Oh, darling, I can make you feel even better, every day if you decide to stay with me." She retorts, her grip softening on your cheek. You look at her, but there is still hesitation in your gaze and Wanda wishes to replace this doubt with something else. She kisses you but pulls away when you go to increase the intensity, ignoring your protest and pushing you gently away by the shoulders. "No playing, until I have an answer."

Wanda flees - because she doesn't think she'll live up to her words if she is under you - and slips out of bed before you can grab her back. Your next long protest is muffled against the mattress because you press your face down.

Wanda giggles half-heartedly as she stands up, reaches for her dress, and tries to adjust her appearance a little. "Thank you for the sex, sweetheart, it was a very pleasant surprise, but I can't let Blonsky lead a communion, he's not good at it. And you have errands, so if you'll excuse me..." Your silence made Wanda, now dressed, look at the bed again. To her surprise, you were sitting on the mattress, hanging something around your neck. 

Your gaze met hers as the disciple chain was secure on your skin. The mischief in your gaze made her swallow. Twirling the symbol between your fingers, you smiled as you asked: "So how does this work? Should I confess my sins so that you can forgive me?"

"God offers forgiveness, not me." Wanda whispers back, brazenly watching you start to unbutton your shirt, the necklace hanging in the valley of your breasts is doing things to her. 

"Hm, since I'm going to be forgiven, maybe I can sin a little more..." Wanda moved on instinct, crawling onto the bed to meet you halfway like a magnet being drawn towards you.

Your foreheads touched, and she sighed against your lips. "I should punish you for this blasphemy." She says, to which you smile naughtily before sticking out your tongue to tease her lips, eliciting a low moan from her.

"Promise?" You challenge, and Wanda gets tired of wasting time.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #kinktober 2023 #marvel imagines

[sirfrogsworth]

Whenever I see an up-and-coming Youtuber I notice they often make the same mistake. When the time comes to increase production quality, the absolute first thing you should do is invest in improving your sound. Not the camera or the lens or lighting or set design. Audio quality trumps all of that. People being able to understand what you are communicating should always be the highest priority.

And the cool part is you can do this with a cheap lav mic. There are some that can just plug right into your phone. The next priority is learning how to set levels and make sure your voice isn't distorting from being too loud. You can even record a little quiet and bump up the levels later on. But if you record too loud to begin with, you can't fix that.

After that you can "treat" your room. Which just involves controlling echo and reverb. Foam acoustic panels are expensive and not necessary. You can do the same thing by just filling your room with stuff. Furniture, books, blankets, pillows. You want to eliminate large flat surfaces. If the sound has to bounce around on 20 different surfaces before it comes back to your microphone, it will have much less energy.

You can also figure out which wall is the biggest echo offender and hang a couple of heavy blankets in front of it. If you can score those moving blankets on the cheap, those work great. And if you can put a gap in between the blankets that will further reduce echo/reverb. You don't have to cover the entire wall, just the main area in front of where you are speaking. If you can reduce that very first reflection, the sound will have much less energy to bounce off other surfaces.

All that said, sometimes people will go overboard with sound and buy that giant phallic SM7B dynamic microphone. I see those things everywhere. Yes, Michael Jackson used it and it does sound great. But with so many quality USB mics that plug straight into your computer, it is a huge hassle and really overkill unless you just enjoy audio tech and want a cool toy. The SM7B requires extra equipment to make it sound good. It's XLR so you need a special interface. And most people add a "cloudlifter" because it isn't very sensitive and can be really quiet without it. Plus, dynamic mics need to be super close to your mouth and I think covering half your face with a giant mic isn't the best visual. There are lav mics in a wide spectrum of price ranges that can be hidden and sound great. Or you can do a shotgun mic like they use in movies. It can be hidden offscreen and pick up your voice from a distance.

Big dynamic mics are great for people with baritone voices. If you are James Earl Jones and you want to show off your voice, the SM7B or something similar makes more sense. Beyond that, most of your viewers just want clarity. Good room treatment and a $30 lav mic can achieve that pretty well. And if you watch a few tutorials on how to EQ and process audio, you can do a lot to make a cheaper microphone sound great. Reaper is a wonderful audio program with professional features and a reasonable price.

TLDR... fix your sound first!

[witchxxjpg]

lestappen hogwarts au dedicated to my harry potter marathon (1k words)

+ seeker Charles and chaser Max (definitely not dating you know👀)

(i know that the age gaps are incorrect and that 11 years-old Max never raced international but for the sake of this au i change these things))

******

Max sat in his compartment alone.

When he looked outside all he could see was children and their parents running around Platform 3/4 with huge trolleys filled with bags and suitcases. But Max himself had only a mediocre case with shabby textbooks and some clothes to wear during his first school year.

Honestly speaking, he didn't know what he was supposed to do. He didn't want to stand out, even though he was well aware that he wasn't quite like all the others.

When he passed by the other compartments, all the children were chatting and, Max guessed, they were just happy to see or meet each other, while some of the older students were discussing their summer breaks.

Max didn't know anyone here. He didn't even have anyone to say goodbye to.

His mother was too busy in Belgium to fly just for him to London. And his father was still furious at him for the decision to take a year off karting to study in this school for wizards. He had just dropped him off three hour ago near King's Cross Station and left without any goodbye.

Standing on the platform, Max'd thought about what to do.

After a failure of trying to ask an officer about platform 3/4 that was written on his boarding ticket Max'd sat on a nearby bench, hopping that soon he'd see someone who looked like a wizard.

And he was lucky enough that after only an hour of waiting he saw a girl, pulling a trolley of suitcases and a cage with a huge brown owl.

When Max had visited Diagon Alley last week with a big disheveled guy named Hagrid to buy all the necessary equipment for his first year, he'd been told that he's allowed to have a pet like a cat or an owl in Hogwarts. But his father didn't even want to give him money to purchase a wand, so Max knew better than to ask for an animal, even though he really wanted to have a cat.

He got into the train well earlier than all the other students, because almost all sofas were empty. He took one of the farthest compartments and put his case on the bench near him. He was too short to throw it on the top shelf and he didn't know any lifting charms. Then started looking at other wizards.

After an hour of observing the almost empty platform, Max finally started seeing more people.

They were all different: some of them wearing usual clothes, that Max's seen people in, while some others were in ridiculous outfits that he decided was sort of wizard style.

But there were a lot of children, of course. Most of them were in the same usual clothes. However, Max was relieved to see that others wore black robes that Max himself was dressed it.

Later he noticed that some of the robes of other students were with colorful elements, unlike his own that was fully grey.

The departure time of the Hogwarts Express was close, so Max sat there and waited, listening to dulled noises on the platform.

Until the door of his compartment was wide open.

"Hey, sorry, all the others are full," said a young boy, who looked around Max's age. "Do you mind if we sit with you?"

Max didn't mind at all, so he shaked his head and offered the seats.

Behind the boy who asked were two older guys who entered the room.

"Need help with your luggage?" asked one of them, pointing at Max's miserable suitcase, and Max, nodding, pointed out in his head that they're not from England, judging from the accent of these two of them.

While he put Max's case on the top shelf, the other one asked, seeing his stiffness, "First time, right?"

Max smiled awkwardly and nodded.

"Don't worry, we don't bite," cheered up the guy who helped with the luggage, chuckling.

"But Charlie can, though!" said the other, ruffling the hair of the younger boy who entered first and laughing.

Max assumed that they were all brothers, considering how well they knew each other.

The younger boy, Charlie, looked scandalous, "Hey, it only happened once!" pointing at the guy who accused him. "And you totally deserved that!"

"Okay," chuckled again the older guy. "We'll go buy us some food".

"Yeah, let the kids bond together," said the other when they exited the compartment, still giggling.

As soon as they left the younger guy jumped on the seat, opposite Max, with a huge smile and stretched out his right hand, "Hello, I'm Charles".

Shaking Charles' hand, Max mumbled, "I'm Max".

"Oh, by the way, that were Jules and Lorenzo," said Charles, pointing at the direction where the older boys had left. "They can be very annoying, I know. But still cool".

Max hesitated, "Are they your brothers?"

"Lo is," Charles smiled. "Jules is my godfather, but he's more like a brother. Do you have siblings?"

With that question Max realized that he actually missed Vic. He last saw her two months ago, while video chatting with their mother. He hoped he'd be able to go visit them on winter holidays.

"Yes, I have a sister," Max mentioned. "But she lives with my mother, and I live with my father".

He saw that Charles liked talking. "Oh, are you parents wizards?"

"No, they are both -" Max remembered that Hagrid had called them somehow, people who can't do magic. But he didn't remember. "Well, you know, not wizards".

"Muggles?" helped Charles. "That's so cool! Mine are from Monaco. Both wizards, but it's a boring story".

That explained the accent, even though Max'd thought they were French.

Max thought if he could share more about himself, "Oh, I raced in Monaco once", he said before realizing that maybe wizards didn't even know what karting was.

Until he saw how Charles' eyes went comically wide.

"Really?!" he jumped off the seat opposite Max and sat right near him. "You do karting? I also do karting. Not like anything professional but we do it every holiday".

Time passed and Max didn't even realize that. Soon returned Lorenzo and Jules with their hands full of sweets and chocolatebars. That's when Max tried his first chocolate frog and got his first card.

Then when Charles was very emotional to discuss Max's karting championships with his brothers, deep red Max was awkward to hear all this excitement (he'd never admit that he liked it). And he didn't know what to say when the older guys invited him to Monaco for winter holidays to show off the skills.

During boat trip to Hogwars Max listened to Charles speaking about four houses and how he was sure he would be in Gryffindor, because all his family was Gryffindor. Max decided that he also wanted to be brave and be in Gryffindor.

Of course, they didn't get to the same house, none of them didn't even get to the house that they'd wanted, but it wouldn't stop them from becoming best friends and probably something more.

But that's a story for later.

Now Max was just excited for his first year in the magic world.

#lestappen #charles leclerc #max verstappen #cl16 #mv1 #mv33 #my art #f1 art #f1 fandom #formula 1 #digital art

[ph4ngz]

[DARK CONTENT] Dabi x ProHero!Reader

Warning(s): NON-CON, Reader is under a quirk suppressant, physical abuse, Dabi is kinda scary and psycho tbh, Reader is a very new hero, crippling corruption kink, use of fire quirk (he brands reader), mtf oral, ass play, nipple play, Dabi is a huge dickhead, cumming inside, talk of getting pregnant toward the end, kinda hurried to finish it lmao...

/-/-/-/

"Oh, good morning sleeping beauty."

Your restless stirring seizes the exact moment an unfamiliar hoarse, teasing voice registers in your brain. What the fuck?

Urging to find the source of said voice, you find an intense pain blossoming over the span of your right cheek when you attempt to lift yourself from the ground despite the handcuffs binding your wrists. You'd opened your heavy eyelids for a split second just now, all you saw was the blinding sun beaming through many jagged gaps of a wall made of cracked cement, but the sudden pain had made you clench them shut again before you could make any sense of your fleeting view.

"Ooooh, yeah... Spinner threw you to the floor last night. Impact do a number on ya, huh? Sa'shame none of your useless hero friends could be bothered to save you."

The scent of cigarettes and damp concrete surrounds you, the strength of it almost suffocating. Where the hell are you? Who is Spinner?

"F-Fuck off." hostility laces your words, yet your supposed kidnapper is rather amused by them, a scoff ringing in your sensitive ears. His heavy footsteps echo everywhere as he saunters around above your place on the cold floor, purposely keeping a certain distance so you can't see his face if you open your eyes. The ground's temperature is numbing your shivering body through your thin training getup. Goosebumps cover your chilled skin, although you're not entirely sure whether it's the flooring or the anonymous villain at fault for them.

"Unless you wanna be burnt to ashes, you better watch the attitude, bitch."

White pulses in your vision once the villain stoves the heel of his steel-toed boot into your side, the thick block digging into your ribcage and leaving a dusty, dark imprint on your shirt.

Your bloodcurdling cries echo within the confines of what you assume is some warehouse tucked away in the city, car horns and occasionally loud pedestrians fading in and out of your hearing capabilities. It's entirely possible that your screams will not be acknowledged from this distance, obviously decreasing your chance of gaining backup from other pros.

You consider unleashing your quirk, but deem your current situation grants too little information for you to use it yet. Best to wait until it's guaranteed safe and necessary. Even though, guessing this guy's quirk is heat or fire-based, your own powers wouldn't be of much help.

The heel bruising your side lifts slightly but not completely, relief only surfacing for a quick second before being dragged away by the villain ruthlessly nudging you around with his foot like a feline plays with it's prey. High pitched groans pass through your gritted teeth, making him close his eyes as if listening to the soothing whisper of each tree in a forest.

"God, can you tone it down? My ears might bleed from all that useless whining." Another gravelly voice enters the vicinity and you pause your involuntary wailing and thrashing. Once again, you open your eyes to be met with nothing but the ground.

You recognise that voice.

Flashbacks of what past UA students refer to as 'The USJ Incident' and "The Training Camp Incident" flicker inside your mind like a dying flame. Shigaraki. Holy shit, you've been captured by the League. You could've sworn your heart just skipped at least four beats.

"Oh boss, such a buzzkill." the pressure on your ribs finally disappears and the boots responsible for your noisiness step directly in front of your line of sight, albeit sideways which, when paired with your facial injuries, brings on some dizziness.

You're practically paralysed as the man you'd woken up to lowers himself into a steady crouch beside you, allowing his patchwork face to be visible. A pair of the most enthralling blue eyes seem to glow beneath a veil of messy obsidian hair. Dabi, the only member of the league who excels in long distance attacks. His quirk is basically fire, from what little findings you've heard from Hawks during your mere few weeks of being a number 6 hero. Wonderful.

"Is this the hero Spinner brought back for us, Shiggy? Woah, she's super adorable!" A petite, blonde girl lays a hand over the shoulder pad of Dabi's coat, eager to inspect. Toga. Deku had told you about this one as you'd volunteered to help at that infamous training camp during your third year, Uraraka too.

A faint shout from another room, “Not as super adorable as you, my darling Toga! Yeah, you’re totally smokin'!”,sounds before Shigaraki speaks up again.

"Fresh out of UA, her quirk would be an insanely helpful addition in order to achieve my goals, but her pain tolerance is something to be ashamed of. I suggest leaving the room before your ears are damaged beyond repair."

The chuckling man before you dons a sickening saccharine smirk as he holds eye contact, "She's a noisy one, ain'tcha? Kinda cute too."

You glare daggers at him from your place below him, soft and aching cheek smushed against the dirtied concrete still.

"N'awh, don't go lookin' at me like that..." Dabi tilts his head, pouting with childish ways lacing his every word.

The way his large, shaky hand threads itself through the hairs on your head shouldn't be as comforting as you think it should be, especially after he'd stepped on you like nothing more than an empty soda can not even five minutes ago. You swallow dryly at the fact that his palm is covering the entire visible side of your skull, then sparks crackle inside of your veins, every part of you tingling at the villain's blunt nails barely scraping along your scalp.

Shigaraki mutters a few words whilst you close your eyes, something along the lines of: "Overhaul" and "forty-eight hours", to which Dabi responds with an ominous "how exciting". Maybe, maybe not. You don't quite catch anything they say, but you’ll stick with your guesses.

You're ashamed when you come to realise that the other members, even Toga whom was directly in front of you, had already filtered into another room as you'd been focusing mainly on the calming sensation. Some hero you are, you wonder if somebody had made a mistake by placing you at number 6 on the charts.

No, you don't have time to wonder this, wonder that.

Not when you're alone with him.

The cold hardly allows you to fully experience the next surge of agony, and you're somewhat grateful for that, when Dabi yanks your head upward by your hair to then fit his other hand beneath your arm, propping you up like a limp ragdoll.

You’re sat with your back against the wall now, legs spread slightly and wobbly like jelly. Your wrists seem to be as heavy as led, laid awkwardly on the gritty concrete.

“What’re you gonna do to me…” you exhale with utmost fear, lack of confidence visible to whoever wants to see it whilst he situates himself lazily on the floor in front of you, one leg splayed out and the other tucked in. The corners of the villain’s lips pull upward at your question. Dabi relishes in your wide eyed reaction to his joyous smirk. Shit, he hasn’t even given an answer yet!

“Fuck, I love this question. Alright…”

No.

You strain to activate your quirk, whether this environment is safe enough to use it or not. It’s necessary. You perform everything in your power, every ounce of inner strength seeping from your pores… but it’s not working. Not on your first try, second, third nor fourth.

No, no, no!—

Azul, infernal threat emitting from the calloused palm of your captor immediately brings an end to your violent squirming, the instantaneous lick of scorching flames enough to stun you.

“Jesus Christ, have a day off. The boss wasn’t kidding when he said you were a fresh one.”

Despite the panicked currents whizzing back and forth within your state of mental whiplash, the features on your face relax. Your jaw, slack and vulnerable to snap with a single blow. Eyes drooped and void of metaphorical light, aimed his way.

Your kidnapper’s croaky chuckles bury themselves inside your poor head, his voice unforgettable.

“Pfft, perk up a little will'ya?” Leaning forward, Dabi pinches both of your hard yet covered nipples to elicit an adorable yelp from his newest muse. The sudden stimulation has you come alive once more, reacting in a way you don’t want to pay mind to.

“That’s better, riiiight?” The utterly disgusting, condescending mumble that falls from his lips when he’s tantalisingly peeling your skintight vest above your bare tits dares your brows to bow, but you manage to refrain.

What the hell is wrong with you?

“Nngh—! Stop it! Bastard!” The humiliating villain’s fingers rise to torture you with your pebbled nipples a second time, though now he’s carefully circling them with his thumbs as he observes you helplessly wriggling away from his touch. It’s making your clit throb, and you can feel the arousal starting to gather in sticky droplets before soaking into your panties.

Your captivating, fucking adorable, perky tits fully exposed to him, nipples painfully hard and sensitive thanks to the cold. Dabi's smiling still, like you're some tiny, mewling kitten in front of him. Stubborn but so curious, ready to play with him yet too proud and full of hero syndrome bullshit to admit how much your claws are begging to sink into the pleasure.

He's squeezing the fat of your breasts harder now, the soothing heat of his palms warming your chest. Or is that something else entirely?

“Hah, hah, h- AH!” An ear ringing slap to your already bruised cheek causes you to cry out in stinging pain. You can already picture the huge, pink handprint staining your face. During this moment, you sense him shuffle along the concrete floor to close even more distance between each other, kneeling between your legs.

The involuntary pout curling your bottom lip would probably be more than enough for the childish man to fall head over heels for you if he could, if he wasn't already out of his fucking mind. Two pairs of thumbs and forefingers grab ahold of your sore, puffed out cheeks and stretch them, squeeze them, mush your features which ultimately makes you appear even cuter. Dabi's patchwork face is directly above yours, hovering menacingly and casting a shadow over you as he begins to humiliate you once again.

“You're so precious, ain’t ya…” he nods and copies the fearful, pouting expression you’re blessing him with. He circles his thumb over the hot mark on your face then slowly trails it across to your bottom lip, playing with your mouth as the dirtiest thoughts play out in his vision.

You’re sat there, shivering uncontrollably and trapped under his predatory gaze, watching his other hand lowering closer toward the area between your legs in your peripheral vision. You’re about to break eye contact with the intimidating villain when he presses a few of his fingers over your clothed clit, making your thighs try to clamp together on instinct, although Dabi’s keeping them open with his body wedged between.

He giggles hoarsely, finding your pathetic body’s reactions so very cute. An experimental circle of his digits against your now pulsing bud has you holding your breath, doing your damn best to ignore the lowkey clenching of your leaking hole. After a moment or two, he swiftly discards of your sneakers to be met with the most endearing pair of socks, an array of tiny strawberries decorating the pink cotton. Soon, you notice him tugging at the hem of your joggers and images of what’s bound to happen if you let him pull them down project inside your muddled brain like a one second slideshow.

You’re scared. Absolutely terrified. But you have to acknowledge it now, the feeling has grown too much to disregard any longer. You’re so fucking turned on.

“Ass up.” Dabi orders whilst backing up a couple inches on his knees so there’s more room.

And you comply, willingly! Well, it’s not like you can make use of your quirk to escape, so…

He practically rips your bottoms off of your body in one fell swoop, leaving you almost fully exposed bar a pair of thin socks, matching underwear and the vest bunched up around your collarbones. He’s eyeing you like a starving vulture, faintly drawling out a “good girllll”.

Of course, your body reacts in the worst of ways to the villain’s praise, toes curling and fists closing and opening. He notices, and you swallow hard.

“Oh, so you get off on praise? Want me to tell you that you’re doing well? That you’re making me feel so good?”

Tears are beginning to blur your vision as he shuffles closer once more and leans in, pushes your panties aside to spread your pretty pussy with both of his thumbs. Your fingers twitch when Dabi dips his head into the side of your neck, lips ghosting upward until they reach your earlobe.

“Or do you want me to bully you? Make you cry, make you fucking despise me, play with your little virgin clit until you pass. The FUCK.” He gives a biting smack to your cunt, “Out?”

The tears escape at the sudden shouting and they don't stop, even if the rest of your face tells a completely different story. You can't tell whether your mouth opened in a silent moan or a silent scream just now. Dabi licks his lips at the view.

"Awww, know what? I like the second option much better." he coos softly, kissing the side of your head. It's his body heat drawing you closer into his affectionate kiss, the way it's radiating off of his entire form is making you crave his warm touch. Right?

In a matter of seconds his thumb is already back on your pussy, and the stimulation is so powerful that you can already feel your abdomen tensing. You’re gritting your teeth with panic, wide eyes observing his hand between your thighs as he’s biting your neck.

With a single buck of your hips, Dabi presses his forehead against yours, donning a mean smirk with his eyes closed.

“Desperate.” He almost whispers whilst positioning his other hand directly on top of your lower tummy, pressing slightly and creating an irresistible pressure which gets you that much closer to release.

Once more, the villain lowers his head to face your nipples, taking one into his mouth and watching your sweet face struggle to hide the truth. He circles your clit faster, his touch hardly there at all but enough to have you squirming. The near unbearable pleasure you experience when his tongue repeatedly swipes across one of your hardened buds is making you pant, jaw slack.

You’re almost laying down, only your head and shoulders leant upon the wall now, how easily you let your guard fall is terrifying.

“Stop, stop stop stop—” you gasp and plead for him to seize his actions, but it’s no use.

“Or what. Feel too good, sweetheart? You gonna cum for me? Heh, I can see it written all over your face, how pathetic.” Dabi muses, his words so condescending and hurtful.

You shouldn’t cum. You shouldn’t. You should be screaming and yelling and doing everything in your power to escape. Not just laying here willingly, letting this happen to you—

“C’monnnnn, I know you want to. You wanna let it all go, cum all over my fingers,”

Stop.

“You want me to go faster, make my little virgin hero’s legs shake,”

Stop!

“That’s it, that’s it, cum for me, cum for me—”

“Fuck!” You yelp, voice breaking after trying to suppress it for so long.

His touch is removed from your pussy as soon as your orgasm hits, only to be returned by his long middle finger rapidly brushing along and rubbing your inner walls. Instead of overstimulating you, it makes you yearn for more. More orgasms, more touch, more him.

This is bad, very bad.

Your high has hardly calmed down at all when he orders you to stand, “up, face against the wall.”

You do as told, humiliatingly eager. Although a bit too slowly due to your hands being cuffed, so Dabi stations an iron grip on your upper arms and tugs you upward, most likely leaving a bruise to match the rest. He manhandles you into his desired position, an unmistakable glint of excitement in his eyes.

You catch the villain lowering into a crouch position behind you after arching your back and spreading your legs. You wince when his large hands painfully grab both of your asscheeks, spreading them to see both twitching holes. Arousal and cum are dripping from your cunt, his needy tongue snaking from his mouth on impulse, and he lets you take a good look at him too.

“Blehhhh.” Dabi almost taunts you childishly with his mouth from behind you, your head turned to witness his display, and your brain willingly burning the dirty image into itself. His blue eyes are captivating, so bright that they seem to glow even in the daylight. You notice his eyes begin to narrow as a devilish smile also rises on his lips, clearly having seen your moment of fascination.

With you still looking, he disappears from your gaze to hurriedly close his wet, soft lips over your puffy, throbbing clit. His hands are holding onto your ass for stability, fingernails clawing at the skin and leaving red, raw strips in their wake. There’s no time wasted, one heavy lick after another, more of your juices gather upon his tastebuds and he’s fucking ecstatic.

You’re in too deep to try and hold on to your resolve now, you know that, but maybe it’s just your nature. Strained moans escape your plumped lips, deep pink and sore from biting down so hard in order to refrain from enjoying your captor’s antics.

Lewd noises of suction and your wetness sound as his mouth pulls away from your cunt for the first time since he started.

“Ugh, fuck…” he groans lowly, his heavy breath fanning out onto your aimlessly clenching, drenched hole when he leans back on his heel to take in yet another view of your behind. A few seconds pass before he decides you’re too addictive to stay away.

“Mmph- Ah, you taste so sweet, so fucking innocent…” Dabi breathes, his skilled tongue flicking your bud back and forth so much that your knees threaten to buckle, and of course he wouldn’t let that go unnoticed.

“Look at you, mm, can hardly handle it.”

He’s eating you so fast that it’s getting more and more difficult for your brain to keep up, and before you know it you’re coming undone for the second time. You barely even registered your orgasm building up, so this time it’s much more intense.

“GRR! C-CUMMING!”

Dabi’s irises swirl with unexpected surprise and pure elation.

Your eyes clench shut, harder than ever as you endure the way your hole spasms, the way your body jolts under the villain’s hold on you. Thighs so desperately trying to close again, you strain to keep them open for him, even as you feel something watery sliding down the plush skin.

Even as you’ve hit your peak, he’s still got his mouth on you, this time shaking his head with his long tongue lolling around and gliding over every inch of your sex. For a split second, you wonder why he’s riding you through this one. And for another split second, you internally thank the concrete wall in front of you for being something to lean your full weight on.

“Sh-Shit, you’re a squirter too?” He asks rhetorically whilst standing, using the back of his hand to wipe his chin. Man, he's starting to think he should keep you after this.

“I… I don’t know! I’m sorryAH!” Your apologies are cut short by a firm smack to your ass and a breathless chuckle.

“You’re so CUTE!” He yells with a crazed grin and delivers another smack, harder than the last and sure to turn your skin a darker shade of red.

You’re well beyond crying over the pain now, instead you’re starting to fucking enjoy it, crying over the pleasure. Broken sobs echo with each crisp smack he hurtles toward your ass until he stops completely.

Without any warning, Dabi leans over your trembling body to take your jaw in one hand, keeping it steady for his other thumb to bully its way into your mouth. He coats it with your spit, rubbing the pad of his thumb all over the surface of your tongue and eventually removes himself from you.

The silence is deafening, that is until you break it with a sharp exhale.

He’s slathering your asshole with your own saliva, circling around it and causing you to pant, who knows why. Exhaustion, anxiety, anticipation, fear… pleasure.

“Oh? You like that?” He places his other hand around your waist, his featherlight touch tickling you slightly and making you twitch.

“Filthy girl.”

The harder he begins to push against your puckered hole, the louder and faster your breathing becomes. He’s contently watching you clench around nothing from above your pathetic form, and it’s when he dares to slide his thumb past the rim that you finally break.

“Urngh! Pl-ease, please!” You beg, non injured cheek scraping slightly along the wall.

“Begging? For what?”

You pause to think for a moment. Mind blank. There’s no answer, and Dabi can see it on your face.

“Haha, my dumb little hero doesn’t even know what she’s begging for! What, are you all fucked out already?” His raspy voice is pleasant in contrast to the words he says with it.

Suddenly, the villain slips his slicked thumb fully inside of your ass, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking it backward at the same time. He leans forward again, only to whisper in your ear.

“I hate to break it to you, precious, but I’m sure as hell not done with you yet.”

It seems like your entire world spins ten times faster, like you’re floating as he speaks.

“God, I’m gonna fucking ruin you…” he states, voice still low as his hold on your hair drops and he softly caresses the length of your spine in a way that’s frighteningly loving.

In a matter of minutes his coat is flung onto the ground, jeans are unzipped and pushed down with his underwear to free his throbbing cock, a sigh of relief from him indicating that his hard length was getting worse to deal with by the second.

You’re soaked, your cum spilling out of your hole without much of a push at all, and it’s driving Dabi insane. He wants to corrupt you, your sweet little cunt is practically calling his name, just asking for him to claim it. He’s sick of all the foreplay nonsense, all he wants is to split you in half, fuck you so dumb on his fat cock to the point where you can’t even form a coherent sentence.

So that’s what he’s going to do. Say buh-bye to the adorable virgin hero you are.

Quickly running both hands through his obsidian head of hair, he stares at his dick. Angry, long and jumping. Yeah. You’re destroyed. Your captor grips both of your shoulders, his cock level with your puffy, slicked up pussy without even having to align it. You’re the perfect size for him, now let’s see if you’re the perfect fit.

“MMPH! NNGH!” You squeal loudly, the searing pain originating from your sex automatically sending hot teardrops over your waterlines, the corners of your mouth downturned into a cute, wobbly pout.

“Oh, shut up. That was only the tip. Some pain threshold for a hero.” He says through gritted teeth, hiding his twisted enjoyment.

Dabi’s sinking you down onto his cock by your shoulders, his forceful grasp too much for you to wriggle away from. Inch by inch, he’s sliding in, the pain so overwhelming that you’re feeling lightheaded again.

“Almost done, don’t worry. You’ll be screaming for me by the end, virgin slut.”

That’s it. His attitude is getting to you.

“Get off on innocence much?” You backchat with a pained and hostile twinge.

“OI!” He shouts, pausing any movement for the time being, his voice making you jump in the process.

Good, that tormented look is back on your face.

The villain sucks on his teeth before slamming his hips into your ass, immediately nudging your cervix all the while branding your shoulders with burning handprints which evokes an agonised reaction from you.

A silent scream leaves your lips, the sensation so intense that no noise is enough to convey it.

“I thought I told you to watch the attitude, princess. Tch, stupid bitch.”

Fuck, you’re so tight around him that it’s hard to move. Inhaling through his teeth, Dabi attempts to thrust his twitching cock in and out of you. He succeeds, but only just. Looks like you’re growing accustomed without him having to touch your clit, how cute.

The pain is succumbing to the sheer pleasure, the feeling of his length brushing up and down your inner walls drowning it out. Whiney groans are erupting straight from your chest, playing like music to your captor’s ears. Every thrust is becoming more and more powerful, his cock dead set on finding release inside of you before anybody else ever can.

After a short while, your heated face is occasionally bumping into the wall as you’re bouncing on him, echoes of strained grunts and the sweetest moans mixing with each other and the sound of skin against skin.

“Sssshhhhit! You feel me? Yeah?” His gravelly questions pierce through your mind, every word he says so clear to you.

“Yes, yes! Hard-Harder!” You’re a blubbering mess now, letting yourself go, completely unhinged for your villain.

Your villain? THE villain. What’re you thinking?!

“Hahaha! You’re taking it like a bonafide slut! Turn around and I’ll go harder for you.” Dabi is loving this way too much.

Obeying orders, you turn around only to be picked up and manhandled once more, this time your back pushed into the wall with him between your legs. You’re left with an unbearable feeling of emptiness without his perfect dick stretching you out, but that feeling soon disappears when he instantly slams back into you. Wrapping your arms around his neck and scrunching your pretty face, you cry out, “Fucking hell!”

Dabi bites his lip at the sight before him and licks up a few of your stray tears, then finally presses his lips against yours. Your teeth clash sometimes with the movements but neither of you give a shit, you’re definitely too fucked. The villain soon slows his pace, still keeping the strength in his thrusts consistent, the slight decrease in speed allowing you to force your tongue into his mouth without biting it.

He sighs loudly and pleased, undeniably happy with your little performance of courage. He’s keeping you, he’s decided. The kiss is broken, and the pace is increased once more.

“I’m gonna cum—” Your captor warns.

“N-Not inside! Ah! Ah!” You attempt to yell through every bounce of your ass upon his strong thighs, sweet panic arising on your features.

“Sorry, what was that?” He asks menacingly, the muscles in his arms tensing up as they secure your legs. You can feel his cock jolting inside of your tight cunt. No no no!

“Please! N-ot insi-ide—!” Your nostrils are flaring, heart beating about a mile a second but he isn’t pulling out.

Dabi hears you, loud and clear. But damn if he isn’t going to make a show out of this. With his plumped lips open and teeth gritted, he closes his eyes and bows his eyebrows, pulling the perfect face of release just for you.

“Nngh— fuck, fuck…” the villain pants with his nose touching yours. As soon as his eyes open to be met with yours, filled with terror, excitement, lust… all such emotions that contradict with each other playing on your face, he just laughs at you dryly. Dumb, tiny virgin bitch.

“Whoops. Too late.”

Your wide eyes are boring into his narrowed ones as a mixture of his and your own cum droops to the ground beneath you, not a thought present inside your head. Shock numbing your emotions. Still, you attempt to weasel your way out of his hold, which gets you nowhere.

“You didn’t think we were finished, did you? Don’t worry, I’ll be the one to tell your hero buddies you’re on maternity leave... Hey, what'd you expect? A fuckin' apology?”

/-/-/-/

#bnha smut #bnha x reader #mha smut #my hero acedamia #bnha dabi #dabi #dark content #dabi smut #dabi headcanons #touya todoroki

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

TAKE CARE OF YOU [3]

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)

Chapter Word Count: 4,501

Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It's why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn't look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn't be so hard. Would it?

[a/n: I'm feeling Fridays for the update day, but i'm not married to that idea yet. also thank you for all the love this has seen so far!! I am so happy to know I'm not the only one that would sell my soul to have Joel Miller as my sugar daddy.]

03: YOU THINK MY VOICE IS PRETTY?

"the way his voice sounds, or the words he speaks, i can never decide what pulls me in more." -butterflies rising

‘Morning, sugar’.

You chuckled at the term of endearment and leaned back in your seat. The other people on the bus surrounding you were living their own lives as always. You recognized many of your routine bus neighbors. The woman who ate an onion bagel every single morning on her way to work, the man who still read an actual newspaper rather than use his phone, the brother and sister duo⏤only teens⏤ on their way to school. You wondered how these people classified you in their head. 

‘Morning to you too⏤’ You paused. Should you call him ‘daddy’ again? Saying it teasingly was one thing, but typing it somehow made it seem more permanent. Which was a stupid thought to have, but it was the one that plagued you nonetheless. You deleted your words and started again. ‘Morning! How⏤’ Again, you froze. Was the exclamation mark too much for this early in the morning? It was only yesterday that you made this deal with him and it would be sad for you to annoy him so early in the deal. Delete. Repeat. ‘Joel⏤’ Way too formal. Okay. You were officially over thinking this.

‘Hey! How’s your morning going?’

The moment you hit send that dumb little anxiety riddled voice at the back of your head tried to criticize your choice of words and you had to wrestle it back down. Almost immediately you saw the text bubble of dots pop up as he typed.

‘Great. First meeting got canceled. You?’

It was marginally funny to you that the man who owned this huge company seemed so dead set on avoiding meetings. Plus, it was kind of cute that he was more comfortable in flannel than suits.

‘Just on the bus heading to work!’

The text bubble popped up immediately, then disappeared, then came back, then disappeared once more. As you waited for it to return, his name filled the entire screen as he called you. Your eyes widened in surprise. After getting past your shock, you answered, “Uh, hi.”

“Sorry, repeat that for me.” Joel’s voice was nearly drowned out by a bunch of noise that you’d have to guess dealt with some kind of construction. “You’re on the ‘what’ heading ‘where’?”

“Bus? Work?” You replied in confusion.

Joel cleared his throat and he must have been moving since the noise simmered down. “Yeah, that’s what I thought you said, darlin’. Can I ask why?” The sound that left your mouth was a good representation of your broken brain. “Because I’m pretty sure you and I made a deal yesterday. Didn’t we?”

“We did.” You said slowly. “But⏤”

“Darlin’⏤”

“In my defense, I can’t just quit work. I respect Henry too much. I have to at least give him a two weeks notice so he can find a replacement.” You argued. Even if Henry wasn’t someone you considered family you’d still feel obliged to quit the correct way. Still, maybe that was something you should’ve mentioned yesterday before the two of you parted ways. “Sorry, Joel.”

He let out a small sigh. “There’s no need to be sorry. I understand. You’re too responsible for your own good.” You chuckled. “But the bus? The bus?”

You had to resist the urge to laugh at how insulted he was at the prospect of you on public transportation. You glanced over your shoulder out the window to see how far from work you were. “Well, ubers and taxis are so expensive from my house to the bakery. Plus, I have a bus card!”

“Bus card?” Joel repeated. His incredulous voice took an amused tone. “Sugar, you got daddy’s credit card.” Your eyes widened and you felt your entire face burn as heat filled your cheeks. As if somebody would be listening in, you glanced around at the people sitting near you. Joel chuckled, the sound low and deep, “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“I, uh, I⏤ That’s a good point.” You cleared your throat. “It felt silly using the card for something like an Uber or taxi though. You know?”

“Nothin’ is too silly. I want you to use that card. All the time. Understand?”

“I understand.”

“I understand…” Joel repeated with enunciation at the end. Waiting for something. Waiting for…

“I’m on the bus.” You whispered into the phone, in shock, while covering your mouth.

Joel hummed. “Oh, I know. Now. I understand…”

You chewed on your lower lip, glanced around, then whispered into the phone quickly, “I understand, daddy.”

“Sorry, sugar. Couldn’t quite hear you there. Must be because of how loud and hectic that bus is.”

Your lips curled up into a broad grin as your face continued to burn. He cleared his throat to urge you on, and you shook your head with a slight chuckle. You blew out an amused breath and repeated yourself. “Yes. I understand, daddy.” 

An older woman sitting to your left shot you a curious glance and you sunk in your seat, and turned toward the window to laugh. You could hear Joel’s breathy laugh over the line as well. Joel spoke up, “That’s better. As for this transport problem,” You rolled your eyes still grinning, “Can you drive?”

“Well, yeah.” You replied and the smile fell as a thought occurred to you. “That is not a reason to buy me a car.”

“Wow, you really think I’d buy you a car right out the gate like that?”

“Oh. Right. Sorry. I⏤” You paused then shook your head. “Wait, no, actually I do. I do think you’d do that.”

“You’re right. I would. You got a preference, sugar?”

“Please do not buy me a car.” You blurted. “I… I really don’t like driving around this city. Last time I even got behind a wheel was over two years ago.”

“Fine. No car. I’m gettin’ you a driver then.”

“That still feels excessive.” You replied hesitantly.

“Do it for me then? I’d feel more comfortable knowin’ you’re not ridin’ around with strangers.”

The words were spoken with kindness, actual concern, and a part of you wondered if he was saying what he was because it was expected of him? The deal was for him to take care of you and keeping you safe could arguably fall under that umbrella of responsibilities. You just found it hard to believe he’d care out of the goodness of his heart considering how little time you had spent with one another thus far. It wasn’t a criticism of him at all. Maybe he was just that kind deep down, maybe he did have a bleeding heart. It was the process of trying to apply that thought, those concerns, to yourself that felt silly. At the end of the day, that voice of anxiety just couldn’t fathom a near stranger actually worrying over your well being with no ulterior motive of their own.

Joel said your name over the line, snapping you out of your line of thought, and you forced your smile to return. It wasn’t hard to find. “Alright. For you.”

“Good.” He blew out a breath of what almost sounded like relief. “What time does your shift end?”

“It’s Sunday so I usually close up the shop around 5:30, then pack away all the leftovers to take to the shelter a few blocks away.” You replied. Anytime the shop had any leftovers, which was happening more and more, Henry would donate the goods to the local shelters and kitchens rather than toss it. 

“I’ll have my guy there around 5 then. I don’t want you waitin’ on him.”

“Yeah, but now he’ll have to wait on me.”

“I know. That’s the point, darlin’.”

You couldn’t decide which you liked more. Joel calling you ‘sugar’ or ‘darlin’. Then again the sound of your name was equally as intoxicating. Honestly, it wasn’t fair how good his voice sounded in general. The bus peeled off to the side to come to a stop and you hiked your bag up your shoulder to get off.

“I’m at my stop.”

“Say good-bye to the bus. You ain’t ridin’ on it again as far as I’m concerned.” You chuckled and as you walked off you couldn’t help but glanced back at the familiar people you had gotten used to seeing so often. You mentally wished them a farewell. It was cheesy, but it nearly felt like the end of an era. Joel spoke again as you stepped onto the busy sidewalk. “And remember, my guy is pickin’ you up today. No ubers. No taxis. No buses.”

“I know, I know. I promise I won’t make a run for it.”

“Good girl.” Joel chuckled and your face immediately went warm once more. A habit you were beginning to pick up around this man. Joel said quick good-byes, saying he needed to help someone out on site and promised to text you later. You echoed his sentiments and tucked the phone away after hanging up. Wow, okay, it seemed hearing him call you ‘good girl’ won in a fucking landslide.

As it turned out, Henry had come in early to bake for the day, but left it open for you to set out as he hadn’t been feeling well and had to leave before you even got the shop fully open. It was incredibly poor timing because you planned to announce your two week’s notice to him and that seemed like a dick move to do while he was sick. Tomorrow. You’d try again tomorrow. No big deal. What would a one day difference make? 

The bakery always had it’s busiest days on Sunday, weirdly, but still it was nowhere near the kind of traffic this place truly needed. Usually days where it ended up being you alone were even more painfully boring, but today had been, well, fun. Joel continued to text you through the day and the conversation was a decent distraction from the dichotomy of doing nothing between customers. Plus, without Henry there, you didn’t even have to pretend like you weren’t playing on your phone the entire time. 

The last hour of your shift had gone by without Joel as a distraction because of a meeting. One he had grumbled about twenty minutes prior to it. You were in the process of packing items away when you noticed a black SUV sitting outside on the side of the road. Pausing in your work, you ran your hand down your apron and made your way out of the shop and toward it. You had just planned to tap on the window to get his attention, but you were barely halfway to the SUV when the man behind the driver’s seat jumped out and hurried around with a nod.

“Ma’am.”

“Hi.” You gave a small wave. “I’m⏤”

The blond man blurted your name out with a nod. Of course he knew who you were. “Is there anything I can do to help you, Miss?”

“No, no. I wanted to invite you in! It’ll be a minute before I’m done.”

“It’s alright⏤”

“I insist.” You said firmly. He hesitated once more before going to turn the car off. He was older than you, if you had to guess, and he wore a clean, black suit and a pair of dark aviators over his eyes. If he had a little radio in his ear you’d have him pegged as some kind of secret service guard. “What’s your name?”

“Riley Talbot, ma’am.”

You motioned for him to take a seat at one of the tables with a smile. “Well, Mr. Talbot, you have a muffin preference?”

“Just Riley is fine, and you don’t have to⏤”

“Either you tell me your muffin preference or I’m gonna pick at random, Riley.” You replied then ran through the options you had today. Riley hesitantly told you his preference for the banana nut option and you brought it over for him on a small plate. The man took his sunglasses off, tucking them into his inner suit pocket, and you took note of his very blue eyes. “How long have you worked for, Joel?”

Riley shrugged. “I’ve been working for Mr. Miller for the last five years.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. Five years as a driver for Joel? You couldn’t imagine Joel using a driver. The man who preferred flannels over suits seemed like the kind who was adamant about driving himself. Plus, this wasn’t the person who had picked you up yesterday. How many did he have?

“Well, give me a second here and we can head out. I just gotta finish packing up today’s leftovers.”

“Please, take your time.” Riley nodded then motioned to the muffin. “And thank you.”

You left him to enjoy his snack in peace so you could go back to cleaning out the display stand. It was repetitive, simple work that you had gotten very used to doing mindlessly over the years. You were on the last row of cookies when your phone buzzed in your back pocket. Pulling it out you saw it was a text from Joel.

‘Did Riley show up?’

‘Yupp. He’s in the bakery eating a muffin right now.’

‘You didn’t need to feed him, sugar.’

‘Too late. Besides, that’s one less muffin for me to carry now.’

‘Put it on my tab.’

You rolled your eyes, as if a singular banana nut muffin was of significant cost, ‘Shouldn’t you be focusing on your meeting?’

There was a longer pause before you got a response.

‘Touche’

You chuckled under your breath and tucked the phone away once more. After stacking a few of the boxes on top of one another, you shrugged out of your apron to hang it back up on the wall. Riley had risen from his seat and you took the plate from him before he could argue otherwise. You gave it a quick wash before setting it away to dry for the night and when you returned Riley was still standing by the boxes of baked goods.

“I’m almost done. I’m gonna carry these down to the shelter.”

“I’ll help.” Riley replied.

“You don’t have to do that⏤”

Riley gave you a friendly smile. “It’s my pleasure. Mr. Miller was adamant about me helping out where I could.”

Knowing arguing was only going to stretch this process out you nodded and he took half the boxes. At least this would save you a second trip. As the two of you made your way down the street you learned that he was older than you, in his mid thirties, and he had been in the Marines before picking up work with Joel. It was actually through Riley that you learned Joel had a brother who had also been in the military as well. You’d have to ask him about that.

“I’ve been saving to buy a ring.” Riley shrugged as you both got onto the topic of relationships while on your way back from dropping off the boxes.

“If your girlfriend is as sweet as you claim I’m sure she’d be charmed by anything you got her.” You argued. “And how long have the two of you been dating?”

“Three years next month.”

“Aw, congrats!” You chirped. 

Riley continued to gush about his girlfriend and how she worked as a kindergarten teacher. The way his voice held so much love for the woman he bragged about to you made your heart ache. You had always thought this was how your last relationship would look like. You and your ex-boyfriend had been on a similar path after all. When he broke up with you six months ago, the two of you had been weeks away from your three year anniversary. For the longest time, he had been the one you thought you’d be marrying.

And here you were today with a sugar daddy on speed dial.

Funny how life worked.

“Let me grab my stuff and lock up and I’ll be right back out.” You said and Riley agreed with a nod before heading to the SUV himself. Maybe you’d text Nima and see if she was busy tonight. It had been a long time since you thought about your ex and letting him slip back into your head had been a dumb move on your part.

Once out, Riley held the back door of the SUV open for you to slide into. He asked for your address which you provided before settling back in your seat. The radio played a soft tune, you couldn’t hear the roaring of the roads outside, the air smelled clean, and you had ample space to stretch out. This was a far cry from the bus. Nima texted you back, answering your request for drinks tonight, but she had to turn it down because she had a date. Though she did follow it up to ask if you were feeling well and that she’d bail if you needed a girls’ night. You smiled at her words, but reassured her that everything was fine.

‘Hang out with your daddy! 🤪’

Despite the teasing nature of her text, she may have been onto something. Riley was getting closer to your apartment complex and you leaned forward a bit. “Hey, Riley?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you know what time Joel usually gets off of work?”

“It depends. I think he mentioned today he was gonna be working late. That’s why he sent me instead of coming to get you himself.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. It hadn’t dawned on you that Joel wanted to be the one to pick you up and just hadn’t been able to due to his own work. Still, that shot your back up plan in the face. That was probably for the best. You didn’t want to come across as clingy. Though, maybe you were supposed to? Joel said there was no social quota for you to meet, but you doubted the validity of that.

“Thanks, Riley!” You said after exchanging numbers with him and climbing out of the SUV. 

Your apartment was nothing to write home about, but it could be worse. It was a simple one bed, one bath on the fifth floor of a complex that had technically seen better days. However, despite the age and general weariness of the building itself, the residents you lived beside were nice, the owner actually cared about the people renting from him, and security was decent. More so than the other places in this area.

After dropping your stuff down and tossing your keys into the bowl near your front door, you pulled out your phone to see you had missed a text from a few minutes ago. ‘You home?’ Quickly, you responded with a positive and thanked him again for sending Riley to pick you up. ‘Good. Don’t thank me, sugar’.

You rolled your eyes. If he really thought you were going to accept things without thanking him he was dead wrong. Hell, you were struggling with the ‘accepting things’ part which was hilarious considering you had chosen and agreed to this deal with full knowledge of what that meant. You set down your phone to clean the work day off of your skin.

A few hours had passed, where you showered, changed into home clothes, ate, and then settled on the couch with a large glass of wine. Despite it only being close to nine you were almost considering chugging the remainder of the wine in your glass and calling it a night. You had work in the morning after all. As you brought the glass to your lips, your phone buzzed off to the side. 

The text was from Joel. It was simple, and honestly hilarious to see.

‘You up?’

Your cheeks warmed and you wondered if he knew the connotations of texting a woman that message with no warning at night. 

‘Yes lol I am up’

‘Can I call?’

Your eyes widened in surprise at the request. You took another rather large sip of your wine before setting it down on your coffee table and responding to him. The affirmative text hadn’t been sent longer than a few seconds when his name flashed across your screen. You had gotten used to mostly texting the people in your life rather than phone calls. This would take some getting used to. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, sugar.” Joel breathed. “Sorry for calling late.”

“It’s hardly late.” You glanced at your clock on the wall. 9:07. “Are you just getting home from work? Riley said you’d be stuck there late.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately. Every once in a while I’m stuck in the office all day like this. At least I got to be on site this mornin’.” He groaned.

It sounded like he was pouring something on his end of the line. You commented on it, “Are you making yourself a drink?”

“Mhmm.” Joel took a sip of whatever it was he had poured, you could hear him swallow and made your throat dry up. “That alright?”

“Hey, I’m on my second glass of wine so I can hardly judge.”

“Second? You have a long day, sugar?” He asked in concern. Again, the sound of it caught you off guard. You could count on one hand the number of people who showed you genuine concern in the last two years. “Everythin’ okay?”

You forced out a chuckle and nodded despite him not being able to see it. “I’m fine.” It was probably a little early to be flooding him with your problems and the history of your ex. Instead, you jumped over it entirely. “I was actually gonna ask if you wanted to get dinner or drinks, but when I asked Riley what time you got off he said you’d be working late.”

“What?” Joel asked in surprise. He grumbled under his breath before speaking up. “Don’t ever let that stop you, darlin’. I always got time for you. Honestly, it would've been a nice surprise and a good excuse to leave early.”

You let out a soft laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

“You better.” Joel grunted as he dropped down into a seat. Another tired sigh left his lips and you opened your mouth to suggest that he get some rest, but he beat you to speaking. “Tell me about your day, sugar.”

“It was pretty boring.” You replied. “You’ve seen how empty the bakery tends to get.”

“So? I still wanna hear. Talk about somethin’ at least. Lemme hear that pretty voice.”

You grinned to yourself. “You think my voice is pretty?”

“I think everythin’ about you is pretty. Now, no more stallin’. Hit me with it.”

If he wanted to hear about your boring day you’d be more than happy to indulge him. His words still caught you off guard though. He liked your voice? It was extra funny considering how much you liked his voice personally. You talked about the few customers you did have today, how thankful the shelter had been for Henry’s leftovers, and getting to know Riley.

“Yeah, Riley is a good guy.” Joel agreed. “Figured the two of you would get along. Plus,” He took another sip of the whiskey he had told you he chose as his drink earlier, “I know he’s head over heels for that girl of his so I didn’ have to worry about him makin’ a move on you.” You laughed at the sentiment and Joel let out a small chuckle himself. “I ain’t kiddin’, sugar. I only just got you to agree to put up with me. I ain’t plannin’ on losing you quite yet.”

 “Put up with you.” You scoffed. “As if I don’t equally enjoy talking to you.”

Joel chuckled in response then cleared his throat. “How’d it go with your boss? How’d he take the news?” Your smile turned sheepish and rather than answer you picked up your wine glass, now at the end of your third, and took a long sip. Joel sighed. “Sugar?”

“Okay, so, hold on.” You blurted. “He was sick today. Henry left like right after coming in to help me open and I didn’t wanna spring the news on him when he already felt so terrible.” You set the wine glass down then buried yourself into the couch under your blanket. “I’m already worried I’m gonna break his heart.” Joel blew out a sigh and you winced. “Sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t.” Joel responded, but it wasn’t sharp or demanding. He just didn’t want to hear you apologize. “I want you to stop workin’ because I think you’d be happier out of that place, but I’m not tryin’ to shove you into quittin’ if you ain’t comfortable with it yet, darlin’. If…” Joel paused. “If you think you need to stay there a little while longer then I’m not gonna guilt you otherwise.”

His words made your lips curl up into a small, soft smile. It wasn’t that you loved your work there by any means, but you did love Henry. He was family. Plus, that small voice of anxiety was still nagging loud enough that you couldn’t quite fully ignore it. This was still so new. What if Joel got to the end of this week and decided you were more annoying than entertaining. You couldn’t just tear up your roots with no guarantee that this life was fully concrete. 

You didn’t know if Joel understood that from the same angle you did, but you did appreciate that he was willing to bend on that topic. “Yeah.” You said quietly then added in a teasing inflection added, “Thanks, daddy.”

Joel chuckled in response, “You’re gonna be the death of me, sugar.”

You remembered a topic you had planned on asking him earlier in the day, and maybe it was the three glasses of wine that had loosened your tongue, but you blurted it out without thinking. “So, hey, I hear you have a brother?” Joel was quiet for a beat and it was only then that sober logic regained control. “I mean, I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to blurt it out like that. Riley mentioned he was in the military and that you had a brother who was too. I didn't mean to pick at a sore topic if⏤”

“No, sugar.” Joel chuckled. “Not a sore topic. Just caught me off guard is all. But, yeah, I got a baby brother. Tommy.” Tommy Miller. You tucked the information away in the folder of facts you were learning about Joel. “He was in the Army for a while, but left a long time ago. He actually works with me now at the company. Was with me when we went from small time contractors to whatever the hell we are now.”

“Big deals.” You joked. “If your fancy building is anything to go by.”

“Guess so by someone’s definition.” Joel snorted. You liked that he still felt so grounded and to the earth. It had been part of the reason his proposition caught you off guard because after meeting him you never would’ve suspected him to be the kind who owned a large and very rich company.

“You’re not mad that Riley told me that, are you?” You asked. “Because if you are, I'll admit to wrestling the information out of him.” 

Joel laughed. “I ain’t mad, darlin’. Like I said, I’m glad the two of you get along. You’re stuck with him now.” You hummed in confusion and Joel added. “He’s your driver. Anywhere you need to go, any time, just call him.”

“Wait, seriously?” You cried.

“I told you I ain’t letting you get on a bus again.” Joel replied like he was still appalled you had done so this morning. “And since you won’t let me buy you a car…”

“Fine, fine, fine.” You blurted and he let out a soft laugh. A beat of silence stretched between the two of you, but it was a comfortable one. The kind where you just enjoyed knowing he was on the other end of the call even if he wasn’t actively speaking. 

You accidentally let out a small yawn and Joel hummed. “You need to get to bed.”

“Nuh uh.” You replied. “It’s only…” You found the clock and your eyes widened. 12:01. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh. I’ve kept you up long enough, sugar.”

“I’m not even tired.” You whined and rose to your feet. The stiff movements made you realize how close you had been to just passing out on the couch. 

“Sure, you ain’t.”

You meandered to your bedroom, flipping out lights as you went, and shut your bedroom door. “Will we talk again tomorrow?”

“You mean later today?” Joel joked.

You chuckled. “Yes.” It didn’t even matter to you that you may have sounded needy. Being on the phone had not only been fun, but it had been just what you needed to settle the turmoil you had accidentally scourged up earlier. “So?”

“Course, sugar. I’ll text you on your way to work. Riley’ll be there at 6:30 to pick you up.”

“Alright. Night, Joel.” You replied sincerely. “Thanks for talking to me.”

Joel hummed and you could hear him moving around on his end as well. “Should be thanking you.” He added quickly, a tinge or nervousness seeping into his voice. “Hey, do you wanna, uh, you wanna plan for dinner?” Your eyes widened marginally but your lips spread out into another warm and wide grin. “I got a few more busy days, but this Wednesday I’ll be free all evening. Wanna make a night of it?”

“Yes!” You answered much faster than you had initially planned. There went being cool and collected. Joel chuckled. “I mean, yeah. That would be⏤ That would be fun.”

“Good. Get some sleep, sugar.” Joel replied. You wished him well before the call ended and you were left standing in your bedroom feeling like you were on cloud nine.

taglist:

@weddingfairy @bfences @jasminedragon @biwitchy @huffle-punk @shelbyteller @anoverwhelmingdin @aheadfullofsteverogers @stagerightlauren @basicoccult @rinnfey @boofy1998 @farintonorth @thepascalofus @amatis-gray @casa-boiardi @northernbluess @jettia

[previous][next]

✨J.M. Masterlist✨

#the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #modern au #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #sugar daddy!joel miller #reader insert #female reader

[catt-leya]

07/05

rick grimes x fem!reader

warnings: angsty (reader getting stabbed), blood, handjob, age gap, dirty talk, crying Rick and smutty stuff

💗 This fic is a second part but it's not "necessary" to know the first one. That's why it's called Thoughts and not mainly Dirty Pt.2 (together it would be Dirty Thoughts hihi)💗

request, part I

Before you can even say a word, you notice how he closes up again. You notice him stiffening between your legs before he takes a big step backwards.

Without his body heat, the room is far too cold and you stare at him with huge eyes, "Rick?"

Stripped bare, you sit in front of him and ice chills run down his spine.

Fucking hell, he can't bring himself to do that. 

Fucking you is one thing, admittedly completely morally reprehensible, but still explainable. But falling in love with you a completely different.

An old guy who likes to be in a 22 year old pussy is sick, but maybe still understandable. 

But loving a 22 year old completely inappropriate.

He shouldn't have done that. He's the older one and should have brought you to your senses and not given in to your first touch.

You would never let a guy like him screw you if you had a choice. 

He's sure of that.

And now he's standing here, staring at his cum slowly dripping out of you, knowing he's going to hell for this.

Rick takes another step back and he feels like he hit you. 

Like he rammed his fist right into your face.

He bends over and yanks his pants up over his ass like the little room is on fire.

Almost in a panic, he yanks the door open behind him, leaving you exposed and vulnerable in the room.

Alone.

The feeling of being abandoned in this way is beyond description.

For a few minutes you are not even able to move an inch.

Stunned, you sit there thinking about what just happened.

Sure, you kind of seduced him, but he wanted you.

Again and again his words flit through your mind and you wonder at what point he had decided to leave you lying there like a piece of used meat.

"Spread your legs for me."

"That's good. Your pussy is so wet and all this just for me."

"I want you to cum on my cock. That's why I stopped."

"Do you realize how deep I am inside you. I'd love to stay right there forever."

Tears well up in your eyes.

It's not like you were expecting a declaration of love or anything like that. You're sure that for Rick, it was nothing more than physical attraction that led him to fuck you in the end. 

But you expected a modicum of respect.

At least to be treated with respect to the extent that he doesn't run away from you while his cum is still leaking out of you and you're sitting trembling in front of him.

Slowly, you stand on your feet and reach for your clothes.

You move as if in a trance and as you open the door and blink, looking into the sun, the only evidence that the whole thing with Rick really happened is your sticky legs.

Used and discarded.

That's how you feel and that feeling isn't going away anytime soon, especially since you really like Rick. 

Yes, crushing on him.

Two weeks go by in which you hardly get to see Rick. 

In which he avoids you at every opportunity.

If anyone around you notices, no one brings it up and you don't say a word about it either.

It's weird because you guys have always been relatively close and now he can't even look at you.

You should be mad and wish him the worst, but every time you catch a glimpse of his dark curls, your heart stops for a brief moment and you have to restrain yourself from running after him.

Even now, you scan the place for him, even though you should already be sitting in the car next to Glenn.

From the second floor window of the jail, Rick watches you walk around the car and get in on the passenger side.

One last time, you lift your head and look straight up at him. 

It's as if you've felt his gaze on you.

Hectically, he takes a step back and leans his back against the wall.

With closed eyes he stands there and doesn't get your gorgeous face out of his eyes. 

Your face that was still beautiful even when you looked at him with tears in your eyes as he forcibly pulled up his pants.

If he was a good man, he would tell you the truth. 

Oh fuck, if he was a good man, he wouldn't have fucked you in the first place.

But he's scared, way too scared of what might happen and some stupid part in his heart might have that little bit of hope that you might want him as much as he wants you. 

He's acting ridiculous and he knows it, but he's not a good man.

As planned, you and your people search the small abandoned town you just discovered the other day and find a surprising amount of stuff, considering the town was looted long ago.

You wander from house to house and in a small room overlooking the surrounding forest you stop.

The house is gorgeous and you can imagine how a small family must have lived in this pretty place.

Maybe they are still alive too, who knows.

You run the flat of your hand over the dusty windowsill and stare at the little specks of dust that you swirl into the air, not noticing at all that you are no longer alone in the house.

Your people are a few houses away and you have remained alone in the house, as you assumed, but when you suddenly hear strange voices downstairs, you flinch.

You quickly look around. 

You can't get out of the window without breaking every bone in your body, and the only other way out is blocked by the people downstairs.

So it's a choice between broken bones and possible direct death.

You choose the broken bones.

As quietly as you can, you pry open the window and hear a deep male voice from below, "I'll check upstairs."

Now you're getting frantic, you may only have a few seconds before the guy comes up the stairs and looks straight into the room where you're standing.

You shoulder your backpack and there's the guy standing in the room, "Hey, guys. Here's a chick."

He wants to reach for you, but you're already hanging on the other side of the window with one leg. 

But before you can swing the other leg to the other side as well, he grabs your lower leg and you stagger your upper body further out the window.

Pure will to survive shoots through your veins as he hisses, "Come on, kid. I'm not going to hurt you."

You kick at him, not caring that you'd land head first on the ground, but the guy doesn't let go and pulls a knife from his pants with his free hand.

You scream out as a second guy appears in the room and you kick again. 

You're lucky he lets go of you this time, but with his other hand, he tries to grab you again and rams the knife into your thigh.

Blood splatters your face and the guy's hand slips off.

You don't even have the chance to scream, because you already fall.

You are lucky that you landed in a bush and only got a few scratches from the fall.

Limping you get up and hear the men shouting something, you run as fast as you can in the direction of your companions.

The fall has ripped the knife out of your thigh and now the blood is running unhindered down your leg, praying that the guy didn't nick any major artery.

You're not fast, but fast enough to reach your group and you gasp, "Another group...two men...knife."

Arm dragging, the others pull you to your car and all you hear is, "It's going to be okay," before you black out.

Rick is helping with the new posts for the fence when he sees your car.

Even from a distance he can see that something is wrong. 

You're speeding toward the fence way too fast.

"Maggie! Open the gate!", Rick's voice echoes across the yard and Maggie, standing closest to the gate, does as he asks.

With screeching tires, the car comes to a stop and the driver gets out, panicked and covered in blood.

Immediately Rick thinks the worst, "What happened? Where is she?"

'She' could have been anyone, but everyone knows who Rick means.

The door to the back seat opens and Rick hears your faint voice, "I'm fine. I just need to get some sleep."

The whole car smells of the iron in your blood and in his whole life he has never had such a panic as the moment he gets to see your pale face.

Immediately he pushes everyone aside and somehow squeezes his big body into the car without hurting you.

"Baby?", pure panic drips from that single word and you smile weakly at him, "Oh, so I have to be stabbed first for you to talk to me again?"

You lazily close your eyes and immediately his rough hand is on your cheek, "Don't fall asleep, yes? You have to stay awake."

"I'm so tired though," you don't even realize how weak your voice is, but Rick is almost cracking up, "Baby, look at me. I know you're tired, but please look at me."

It's exhausting to keep your eyes open, but you oblige, whereupon he reaches under your legs and mutters, "Just look at me, okay? We'll patch you up."

Slowly he lifts you out of the car and you mumble, "Are you going to stay with me this time or are you going to leave me alone again?"

A twinge of guilty conscience presses against his heart and he whispers softly, "I'll never leave you alone again," and he is completely serious.

He expects an answer, but nothing more comes from you and when he gets out of the car with you in his arms, your eyes are closed.

"Baby?" his voice whips up to unimagined heights and his heart threatens to leap out of his chest.

No.

Oh no.

Please don't.

He has no idea if you're even still breathing.

If he looked closely he would see your chest rising and falling but naked panic and fear pumps through his veins and he runs to jail with you in his arms, "Hershel!"

The older man is on the spot and with just a glance at the nearly motionless figure in Rick's arms he shouts, "Put her on your bed!"

The blood from your leg soaks his shirt and as he places you on his bed, his shirt sticks to him like a second skin.

As Hershel comes rushing into the small room, Rick makes as much room for him as the older man needs without leaving your side.

At the head of the bed, Rick kneels down and brushes a few sweaty strands from your face.

"Is she dead?", Rick's voice breaks and Hershel growls, "Calm down, son. She's just passed out."

Immediately Rick fixes his gaze on your chest and for the first time he doesn't look at it suggestively, but waits for the faint breath that lifts your pretty boobs.

When he sees with his own eyes that you're actually breathing, he rests his forehead against yours, gasping, and murmurs, "Oh my God. You're alive. You're alive and you're with me. You're alive."

He would never have forgiven himself if you died and your last memory of him was that he left you alone and vulnerable. 

He never would have forgiven himself if he never told you the truth.

Rick presses his face against your neck so that his nose presses against your pulse and murmurs in a choked voice, "Baby, I love you. I'm sorry I've been such an ass. I promise I'll never leave you again. I love you so much. I love you."

"Rick?", Hershel's voice is soft, "You should tell her that when she regains consciousness."

Face still buried in your neck, he can't hold back the tears and while Hershel saves your life, Rick cries like he never has before.

Groaning softly, you open your eyes and try to adjust to the light conditions.

You're in prison but don't remember how you got here. 

Darkly you remember Rick begging you to look at him and the rest is completely gone.

Lazily, you try to turn onto your side, but bump into something.

Confused, you turn your eyes to your hip and blink several times, thinking it's a dream.

Completely drenched in blood, Rick is sitting on the floor next to the bed you're lying in, his head resting on the mattress next to your hip.

His soft snores fill the small room and you wonder how long you've been unconscious.

"Rick?" your voice is raspy, but immediately Rick startles out of his sleep and stares at you, "You're awake."

Groaning, you frown, "Obviously, or I wouldn't have woken you up after all."

Sliding up to you on his knees, he murmurs softly, "Doesn't have to mean anything. You kept calling my name all night, but you were never awake."

Grumbling, you close your eyes and Rick reaches for your hand, "How are you?"

It's strange to see Rick so interested in you, and the way he clings to your hand feels like he's expecting you to get up and just disappear at any second.

"I feel like my leg was put through a meat grinder, but other than that, everything's top notch," you lazily open your eyes and Rick nods, "Okay, I'll get Hershel."

He stands up, but you squeeze his hand so tightly that he stops beside you, "Wait a bit. I want to be...alone with you."

Slowly, he kneels back down beside you and murmurs, "That can wait."

You roll your eyes and mumble, "No, it can't, because I don't know if you'll slip away and I'll never get to see you again."

Under his lashes, he looks at you, "I'm not leaving. Ever again."

Surprised, your eyebrows twitch up, "Oh yeah? Where'd that change of heart come from? Do I have to almost bleed to death for you to realize it was shitty of you to just leave me sitting there after you had your dick up to your balls in me?"

Rick winces like you hit him and in a perverse way it feels good. 

It feels good that you can hurt him, too.

He doesn't even dare look you in the face as he whispers, "I'm sorry. There were so many different ways to handle the situation and I chose the asshole version."

Now you have his apology, but you still feel so hollow.

Not expecting anything more, you let go of his hand and nod, "Okay, thanks."

He wanted your young body, you're sure of it, and he got it.

That's all it is, and that's all it will ever be.

"Go get Hershel," at your words he looks up and stares at you like you asked for the moon.

You don't care that he admits to being with you all night. 

You don't care that he called you baby at one point, and you don't care that you'll never be anything more than a nice pussy to fuck. 

At least that's what you tell yourself.

A few seconds pass with no one stirring until Rick murmurs, "If you think it's disgusting or perverted, tell me and I'll shut up and never speak of it again."

"What?" you have no idea what he's talking about, but he slumps down and whispers, "I love you."

The silence is oppressive.

You're not even breathing anymore.

Apologetically, he looks at you with his pretty blue eyes, "I love you. I know it's sick and I'm sorry. You don't have much choice when it comes to sex and probably between all the others, I'm the best choice because you've known me the longest. I don't know. But I do know that I shouldn't have fallen in love with you. I mean, I've been thinking about fucking you forever. Way before that incident two weeks ago and even then I had a little crush on you. But finally holding you in my arms was…I was cracking up because I realized that I love you. With all my heart. And I felt like a pervert and then I acted like an ass. Then I held you bleeding in my arms and thought you were going to die thinking that I treated you like shit and not knowing how I felt about you, so I'm telling you now. I love you."

You blink.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then you lean forward, and Rick flinches as you place your lips on his.

For a brief moment, he stiffens again before leaning in toward you to put more pressure into the kiss.

You can practically taste the fear he had for you on his tongue and move a little closer to him.

Half erect, your torso brushes his and immediately he releases the kiss, "You should rest, baby."

The endearment, makes your cheeks warm and your lips brush his graying beard, "Hmhm."

Even dirty and sweaty, he smells so incredibly good that you press your nose against his neck and your heart does a somersault because he doesn't pull away from you and instead murmurs, "Baby, please."

Your leg screaming in pain completely fades into the background as you start sucking on his neck.

Rick flinches and digs his fingers into the edge of the mattress you're lying on.

Damn, you know exactly what you're doing and you should take it easy, especially since you weren't even conscious a few minutes ago.

As you bite into his neck, he squints his eyes and tries one more time, "Baby-"

"You know, I haven't been completely honest with you either," your voice is muffled and he only manages a soft "Huh?".

You press your mouth to his jaw, "I told you I was attracted to you because you're so manly."

He tilts his head to the side a little so you have better access.

"Were you just trying to boost my ego and actually think I'm a wimp?" his voice has dropped an octave and you suppress a whimper at the harsh tone in it.

How can it be that he doesn't know the impact he has on you? 

How easily he can make you drool.

Gently, you lick over the new glowing spot on his neck, then whisper, "No, that was the truth. But it's not the only reason I'm so attracted to you."

You move away from him a bit and blink up at him, "You're good. You're a good man and your heart is in the right place. I don't care how old you are, and in a way, maybe your age turns me on a little bit, if I'm being honest. But I didn't want you just for sex and certainly you weren't one choice out of many. In fact, you have no competition at all because you were all I ever wanted. Always."

You bite your lower lip, "You know, I've had a head over heels crush on you forever. I...well I didn't think you could even like me like that."

He stares at you like you've grown a second head and you smile shyly at him, "Well, what I'm saying is that I love you too, Rick."

Blush stains your cheeks and only makes you more gorgeous.

You love him.

You.

Love.

Him.

Without thinking, he presses his lips to yours again and you moan in surprise into the kiss.

Gently, he straightens up a bit and presses you back into your pillow this way.

His beard scratches over your soft skin and you lift your hands to his cheeks to stroke the stubble.

He runs his tongue over your lower lip, "Should I shave my beard?"

He always had to do it with Lori because she had hated the way the stubble felt on her skin. 

After that stopped being an issue, though, he let it grow.

But if you asked him to, he would still get a razor today just so he could keep kissing you.

What he didn't count on, though, is your soft laugh, "It doesn't bother me, Rick."

You tug on his beard, "Besides, it suits you."

Somehow you like the way the stubble feels against your skin.

Especially at the thought of how they would feel between your legs.

Rick's gaze softens and he leans further over you, nudging your leg a little, and you wince.

"Sorry, baby. I'll get Hersehl right now," chuckling, you stop him, "Relax. If I don't move it, it'll be fine."

Skeptically, he looks at you and you slide a hand to his belt, murmuring softly, "If you don't touch me, we'll be fine."

"You don't have to do this," he says, but in his eyes you see once again how much he wants to.

That's the interesting thing about Rick. 

He can make his voice sound cold and impassive and look like he's about to rip your head off, but his eyes give him away.

Every time.

Because they're so bright, they also stand out so incredibly and it's playfully easy to read him in them.

Slowly you undo his belt and he doesn't budge an inch as you breathe, "I want to."

Hectically, his gaze slides to your bandaged leg and you purr, "Just relax. Think of it as a reward for taking such good care of me."

"Okay," his voice is soft and uncertain. 

Frantically, you try to suppress a grin because it's so unlike him, "Stand up."

Immediately he looks you in the face again, sure you've changed your mind and want him to go get Hershel after all, but you whisper hoarsely, "If you stand, I can get to your cock better lying down."

He swallows a whimper.

When did he become such a wimp?

But your wide eyes and soft hand stroking his lower belly make him tremble and he nods.

With soft knees he straightens up to his full height and immediately you pull his pants down enough to get at his cock.

This innocent touch makes him moan harshly and he clings to the bed frame of the bunk bed.

Your eyes are glued to his upper arms, where his biceps now bulge strongly, and you whisper, "Say it again."

Rick looks first to your hand around his cock and then back to your face, "I love you."

You stroke his hardening cock and he moans, "Oh God, I love you so much."

He thrusts his hips at you and you just can't take your eyes off his face, not when he opens his blue eyes and looks at you like you're everything to him. 

Maybe you even are, "I love you so much."

When he fucked you, you were so distracted by your pulsing pussy that you barely paid attention to how gorgeous Rick looks as his whole body shakes and he squints his eyes as if by willpower alone he won't manage to cum in your hand right now.

How could he behave at you any other way when you're lying in front of him, practically begging to jerk him off?

You try to straighten up a bit so you can breathe a kiss on the tip of his cock, and the way he flinches at the brief contact of your lips is enough amends for the stinging pain that emanates from your leg as you move.

Briefly, you think about what would happen if Rick were too loud. 

If someone came into the small cell while you lay flat on the bed and Rick towered over you, fucking your hand.

The thought makes you whimper softly, "Fuck me."

As you expected, he shakes his head, "No, baby. You wanted my cock so jerk me off and I'll fuck you as soon as I can push your legs apart again."

Your grip tightens and you whimper softly, "Please don't talk like that."

Irritated, he frowns and when he sees you slide your free hand between your legs, he grunts, "It turns you on, right?"

Hesitantly, you nod and he grins at you, "Then keep your hands off yourself, baby."

Your hand freezes in mid-motion and Rick continues to fuck your hand, "Good girl. Imagine all the things I'm going to do to you because you're finally mine."

You moan softly, "Rick, please..."

"Shhhh, just jerk me off, baby," he teases you and you know it.

His cock is hard and swollen in your small hand and every time you graze his tip it twitches in your hand.

His knuckles stand out white and he moans harshly, "Where do you want it?"

Greedily you open your mouth and he growls, "Shit you're dirty."

He pushes your hand aside and aims for your wide open mouth as he rubs his shaft and he rests his forehead against his forearm to look down at you as he cums.

Some of his cum hits your mouth and the rest runs down your cheek.

You swallow what he gives you and gather up the rest from your cheek to put your finger in your mouth and suck his cum from your finger.

With his mouth open, he stares down at you.

You are perfect.

In every way, shape, and form.

With a 'plop' you pull your finger on your mouth as you hear Hershel's voice from outside, "Are you done?"

Smutty May Masterlist

Taglist: @hail-yourselves   @bean-is-reading   @chanlvr2   @criminalwalkingsupernatural   @sunshinevirus   @toxic-ink    @kingtwhiddleston    @bloodycherry22    @vane28282    @bamslover    @revesephemeres    @emo-potato-virgil    @mrsashleybarnes18-blog  @starsaroundmyscxrss  @starkstiless  @easystreet07 @darylsonlylove @your-shifting-gurl @strnqer @dreamtofus @lincolnswidow @rickswh0r3 @iluvdixon @sinsandsweetness @beekassyy

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #rick grimes imagine #twd x reader #twd #the walking dead #request #andrew lincoln #smutty may 2023

[doumadono]

Hiiiii!

Your annoying anon here! 🔥🔥🔥

sunday is approaching so I'd like to again ask for Enji Todoroki and maybe... reader wearing really short skirt! I wanna know his reaction and the things he would do with the reader.

Dear Nonnie! I had a sneaking suspicion you might drop into my askbox again, and you did! ♥ You're genuinely my preferred Sinful Anon! Whoever you are, let me send virtual kisses and hugs your way. I adore the fact that we both share a bit of a soft spot for Enji. If you're up for it, please, please, feel more than welcome to slide into my DMs so we can chat a bit more about our fiery man! 🔥

SINFUL SUNDAY

Sitting in the room just outside Endeavor's office, you were engrossed in the papers spread out in front of you, carefully reviewing each one. The door to his office stood ajar, and through that opening, you could feel his gaze, his strong presence. His watchful eyes followed your every move as you worked diligently.

His gaze moved deliberately, trailing down your form and then ascending again, lingering on your bare legs, the very short black skirt, and the crisp white button-up shirt. You might have been dressed more formally than necessary for the hero agency office, but his apparent approval made it clear that he didn't mind in the slightest.

You turned your eyes back to Todoroki, only to find he had vanished. Letting out a sigh, you returned your focus to the documents on your desk. Before you could scold yourself for being so concerned about your boss's attention, you sensed someone standing right behind you. If you could have caught your breath, you might have let out a surprised squeal. With an uncanny certainty, you knew it was Endeavor, a realization that sent shivers down your spine.

Endeavor whispered, "If you're as wet as I am hard, we'll be fucking amazing." His hot breath tickled your ear and gave you goosebumps. "4 minutes, 6th floor, government documents," he demanded and left.

You rose from your seat, a growing frustration propelling each step. Your irritation was evident as you jabbed the elevator button with more force than necessary, and your foot tapped impatiently while you waited. As the doors slid open, you entered the elevator. When the doors reopened on the sixth floor, you headed towards the government documents section. You spotted your boss at the end of one aisle, his gaze tracking your approach.

He closed the gap between you two, his fingers gripping your wrist as he growled, "Why did you choose to wear such a short skirt, hmm? Was it deliberate, an attempt to distract me? Or do you like looking like a cheap whore?"

Endeavor yanked you toward him until you collided with his huge chest. He growled and walked you backward until you felt metal shelves against your back. He leaned toward you, and his heat was intoxicating.

You nervously looked to see if anyone was around.

"I don't give a damn who's watching," Endeavor growled as his lips moved toward hers.

He forcefully pulled both your wrists above your head with one hand, his entire body pressing firmly against yours.

Your eyes widened as you felt his undeniable hardness within his pants.

Todoroki shoved your legs apart with his thick thigh so he could fit his hips better against yours. Your short skirt bunched up baring more of your legs. He just leaned in and licked your upper lip, soon kissing you fully, his tongue slipping into your mouth. He parted your shirt after every button was undone. One finger softly rubbed your bra back and forth over your left bud, and you whined quietly. "Such a needy, little doll," Endeavor mused, son sucking your lower lip into his mouth.

You lifted one leg up and wrapped it around his hip to pull him tighter against your body and rolled your hips forward. "Yeah, I'm so needy, boss," you admitted without a shame. "I need you to fuck me."

His hand fisted in your hair and yanked hard. "Look at me," Endeavor demanded.

You obeyed immediately.

"I am not fucking you here. I need a bed and about four hours for that." His hand slid beneath your short skirt as he added, "But I gotta touch you right now, I gotta check how wet you are for me." He groaned in frustration when his fingers met your cotton panties, and he pulled away slightly to yank them down. They wouldn't go very far since you still had a leg wrapped around his hip, but it was enough to slide his hand inside. Endeavor shoved a finger inside your pussy and growled. "Jesus, you're so fucking wet, doll. You can take more already."

Before you could process exactly what he meant, Todoroki added two more fingers inside you. All three stretched you painfully as he pushed a little harder. "So fucking hot. I hear how wet you are."

You flushed as you heard it too - the unmistakable sound of his fingers moving in your dripping cunt.

He let go of your hair, fingers scrambling to undo the fly his pants until he held his bare cock in his hand.

You watched Endeavor's hand as he began stroking himself at the same pace his fingers were withdrawing and thrusting inside your needy hole. You desperately wanted to touch his thick dick, wanted to help, but you were so overwhelmed all you could do was clutch his shoulders and hang on. "O-Oh, yes, yes!" You moaned for him, your lips parted, your tongue running along your lower lip as it got dry. "Oh God," you kept moaning over and over between grunts as he shoved his fingers inside you at fast pace. Your head rolled back, and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the pleasure.

Endeavor almost yelled, "Look at me when you come, bitch."

You opened your eyes and looked into his.

"I need to hear you," Todoroki demanded as he was jerking off so fast his hand was a blur.

He pumped his fingers into you harder. His thumb grazed your slick clit, and your fingernails clawed at his shoulders. He panted, "Mine, you're all fucking mine."

You screamed with your orgasm, forgetting where you were or who might hear. Your pussy clamped down on his fingers, and your leg tightened around him. "Enji, oh my God, yes!"

With a few loud grunt Todoroki came all over his hand, his semen slowly dripping down his calloused fingers. He groaned deeply in satisfaction. "Damn, you're so hot, doll," he slid his fingers out of you. He licked his forefinger. "Delicious. I need to lick you, taste you." He tucked his cock into his pants and fastened up as he turned away from you. "Come on."

You held onto the shelves behind you for balance as you stared after him.

He got halfway to the elevator before he realized you hadn't moved. You saw him turn around and head back your way. "I said, come on," he explained as he began buttoning your shirt. "I'm granting you a free afternoon. Now, we need a bed. I said I need my cock inside you."

#doumadonos sinful sunday 🔥 #sinful sunday #mha smut #bnha smut #my hero academia smut #anime smut #smutty smut smut #smutty blurb #asked and answered #sinful sunday anon #anonymous #enji todoroki smut #enji smut #endeavor smut #todoroki enji x reader #endeavor x reader #x reader #enji todoroki imagine #endeavour #endeavor #endeavor bnha

[yourhighness6]

I can't remember where I saw this but there was this post I saw a while ago about how if zutarians "really wanted to engage in media analysis they would ship zvkaang" and I just... Ugh.

For one, the age difference is gross to me, especially considering a lot of anti-kat@ang zutara arguments center around the fact that Aang was not mature enough to be in a relationship based on the way he treated Katara, and pointing out that Katara is considerably more emotionally mature than Aang throughout the series. Shipping Aang and Zuko, who remember are canonically twelve and sixteen throughout the series, may be okay for a lot of chronic anime fans (from my understanding anime has huge age gaps like that all the time) but a large age gap is basically the first thing that puts me off of a ship. It's the same thing with ships like tokk@ and zvtoph and sokk@ang. A two year age difference is fine for high schoolers, but four years is really, really pushing it, especially when you consider that Aang would be fourteen when Zuko is eighteen.

And if that weren't disqualifying enough, whereas zutara has a truly incredible amount of romantic coding from the music used in certain scenes to small gestures such as them reaching for each other in the final agni kai and Katara's thumb on Zuko's lips in the crystal caves scene to the "she's not my girlfriend!", a common romantic trope being used several times between them, zvkaang has no romantic coding. They honestly remind me of that "platonic tension" textpost that was making the rounds a while ago. That being said, I do understand that "chemistry" and "romantic coding" are fairly relative concepts, but it definitely isn't heteronormativity that makes people see zutara instead of zvkaang as romantic (and although I also ship zvkka to a lesser extent the same can kind of be said there).

Anyway, with a weird age difference and zero romantic coding, that, in my opinion, kind of derails the ship, but its also worth mentioning that the original post's only argument seemed to be that just because Zuko and Aang are narrative foils, it makes sense that they should be romantically involved, which frankly, isn't a very good argument, especially when you consider that Zuko and Azula are also narrative foils and siblings. Narrative foils come in many forms, and come to think of it, I don't think I ship narrative foils from any show I've ever watched. The parallels between zutara often specifically highlight how they might suit each other romantically, and fit with the show's themes of balance.

This is just my opinion, and certainly not meant as a callout for any zvkaang shippers, especially those who are zutara and zvkaang shippers, I just felt it necessary to debunk the idea that if zutarians actually cared about literary analysis, they would ship zvkaang. It's just another half-assed, poorly thought out way to delegitimize zutara shippers and pretend that the ship has no canon basis, while in reality, anyone with an objective eye for media analysis can see that zutara is by no means a ship to be ignored.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #zutara #fandom salt #anti zukaang #anti zukka #anti kataang #emmie babbles

[hisunshiine]

—i kiss your waist and ease your mind [6/7]

Part 6 of 7 of the Seven Days Series ↣ series masterlist

🗓️pairing: nurse!jungkook x teacher!reader 🗓️au/genre: non-idol au, brother’s friend au, fwb, age-gap(reader is older), f2l, fluff, angst, smut 🗓️rating: M 🗓️wc: 6,323 + text message 🗓️warnings: angst, mentions of Gwangju Uprising, casualties from the Uprising, hospitals, argument, hurt feelings, minor character death, grief explicit sexual content: unprotected sex, creampie, grief/comfort sex?   🗓️an 0.5: WELL, THE POST WAS ACCIDENTALLY DELETED AND ONLY SHOWS IN CERTAIN SITUATIONS, SO I HAD TO RE-UPLOAD. 🗓️an: well, well, well…back again for some pain, are you? I would apologize for how this ends, but it’s necessary for the set up of the final day of the week, and truly, I think it makes the final day that much more better if we have to hurt a little bit more, right? Thank you for reading, and again, I appreciate my beta readers for all of their help!   🗓️summary: “i kiss your waist and ease your mind.” The only thing that could make you feel better is the same thing that made you feel worse. You and Jungkook are both confused with your emotions, but two different stories help you both see a bit more clearly. The only problem is that when the two of you get around each other, clarity goes bye-bye. don’t let these soft lyrics fool you; make up sex doesn’t actually solve any issues if sex is the only communication that happens.  

Taglist: @sizzlingfestpeach @mochminnie @jungkooksmytype @kookslastbutton @taebangtanbabe @bbtsficrecs @jk97bam it’s not letting me tag you (if joining the taglist, please think about reblogging with tags/leaving feedback!)

Last night could not have been any worse for Jungkook—well, he’s sure it could have—but luckily the worst that could’ve been, had not come to be. Today, however, is proving itself to be a challenge in its own right. Jungkook knew he had to work early in the morning, but was alright with going out last night because he was with you. 

Last night honestly had been turning into a great night—the way you had silently laid your claim to him at the club, possessive of him in a healthy way—Jungkook thought things were progressing in the right direction. And clearly, you did, too. Hell, he knew he was all over you last night. Knew that he was taking a huge risk in advancing the relationship past friends with benefits when he threw all caution out the window to kiss you like that in front of your friends, but at the time, Jungkook didn’t care. 

And now? Well, that would be a different story, seeing as now that several people know that you’re the one he’s been fucking every night, they might all think something more should come from this situation. Jungkook doesn’t know what to tell them if they ask, and he’s been avoiding Jimin every chance he gets during his shift so far, because he doesn’t really know what to say. He walks to the nurses station to grab his oversized water bottle, drinking several large gulps before being interrupted. 

“Jeon, we have a case that’s just moved over to us, can you help?” Park Soo-hyun, the head nurse for the shift, asks him. As he lowers the semi-transparent canister, he takes in her cotton candy pink hair, which is mussed in a few places; the corners of her eyes are pinched with stress.

“Yeah, no problem.” Jungkook sets the bottle back on the shelf, and follows the shorter Nurse Park down the hallway to the right of the nurses station and watches as she pauses at the elevators to press the call button. Jungkook slows his walk and raises an eyebrow at his fellow nurse. 

“Sorry, we need the help on another unit,” she shrugs, elbow extending her arm to pass Jungkook a slim tablet with the patient's info pulled up. 

“Honestly, that’s perfect.” Escaping to a different floor means almost zero percent chance of Jungkook running into Jimin, so he strolls into the elevator with no regrets. 

Jungkook scrolls past the general information to see just exactly what he’s dealing with as the metal carriage rises. 

His heart breaks a little when he sees that this case is a hospice care one—a focus on the quality of life at the end of it. He follows Nurse Park, barely noticing as he puts one foot after the other, approaching the room. There are several acronyms listed in bold to the left of the door. This clues him into the fact that the goal has shifted from treatment care to comfort. 

Jungkook sees a sleeping, elderly woman in the hospital bed closest to the window, her grey hair pulled away from her face in a short ponytail. Next to her side is a similarly (he assumes) aged man, holding her wrinkled hand in his own. It is a sight that tugs at Jungkook’s heart; he doesn’t usually struggle with the elderly, just small children who end up in this unit, but with how he’s currently feeling about you, he thinks it's impacting him more than he’s used to. 

“Mr. Kim? This is Nurse Jeon. He’ll be with you and your wife for most of today,” Soo-Hyun says kindly as she pats Jungkook’s back in a motherly nature. “Please let him know if you need anything, okay?” She passes Jungkook a small phone, which he pockets, and leaves him in the sunlit room. He steps closer, pulling up the doctor’s chair to sit; a small, rolling, cushioned stool in hospital green. He glances at their names on the whiteboard. Patient: Jung Min-Ji, Spouse: Kim Tae-Woo.

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jungkook starts, voice gentle and quiet so as not to disturb the sleeping woman.

“Hello,” Mr. Kim replies, voice weathered with time and wisdom. “We’re okay, son, you don’t need to sit with this old man.”

Jungkook is no stranger to the phrases the older generation tend to say when in this position. The feelings of being a burden on the hospital staff, guilt for brief thoughts blaming their loved one for being in this position, grief that they could possibly lose their loved one—they’re all valid emotions, and a lot for a person to bear. Especially an elderly man who appears to be carrying this weight alone. Instead of responding to his statement, Jungkook changes the topic. “How did the two of you meet?”

The man’s eyes sparkle to life as he looks at Jungkook’s eager face. “Oh, we’ve known each other since we were kids. She was the most beautiful girl in the village, and I was just some dumb kid who followed her around like a puppy. She’s older than me, you see, and I was the annoying little brother of her best friend.” He smiles fondly at her sleeping form, and Jungkook feels his chest grow tight. “She used to hate my guts. My friends and I would terrorize her and her friends, pull their ponytails, leave frogs in their backpacks, all the terrible things thirteen-year-old boys would do to pretty girls they were afraid to talk to.”

“No wonder she hated you, Mr. Kim!” Jungkook laughs. “I’m guessing you finally stopped tormenting her if she ended up married to you?” Jungkook points out.

“Yes, yes.” The man chortles fondly as he reminisces. “I finally grew up, and realized that treating her badly was not the way to her heart. A little too late, though. She ended up married to some other punk in the neighborhood. He wisened up a little faster than I did, told her how he felt one winter, and they were married by the time the cherry blossoms bloomed.” He sighs, and Jungkook tilts his head, questioning. “Oh, I was distraught. I couldn’t do anything about it, though, I realized that I missed my chance, busy playing games. I ended up married to one of her friends, and well, we spent the next fifteen years circling each other.”

“Wow, that must’ve been hard to deal with.” Jungkook can’t imagine being in his shoes. Or well, he can, but he doesn’t want to imagine that future for himself. Doesn’t want to see a future where he stands in suit and tie to take wedding photos, and it’s not you next to him in them.

“Oh, I loved her enough, my ex-wife, but I think she always knew deep down that she wasn’t…she wasn’t Min-Ji.” Jungkook can see his hand tighten imperceptibly around his wife’s frail one. “We never had kids, and when I came home from work one day to find her waiting with her things packed...I think I always knew that day would come.”

“So, how did you end up winning over Min-Ji?” Jungkook is intrigued by the man’s story. He doesn’t know what he would do in this situation.

“Oh, I wouldn’t call it that. She was thirty-two with a new-born daughter, and left a widow after the Gwangju Uprising. Her husband was one of the many lost that summer. I was freshly twenty-eight, newly single, with an empty house, and still in love with her. I stepped up as her friend, offering her and her daughter a place to live and slowly we became a family. I asked her to marry me a couple years later and she said yes.” Kim Tae-Woo’s eyes water, and even in the dimly lit room, Jungkook can see the love he has for the woman in front of him. 

“That’s an amazing story, Mr. Kim. I’m glad you found each other.”

“Oh, me too. She’s given me everything I never knew I wanted. Three children and the best forty-three years of my life. She’s my everything.” He turns back to Jungkook, a look on his face that he can’t read. “Do you have someone, Nurse Jeon? Someone you love more than your own life?”

The question throws Jungkook for a loop, because the whole time his patient’s spouse was telling their story, there was only one person who crossed his mind. You. He hesitates to answer, but Mr. Kim was honest with him, and Jungkook is sure that he can be vulnerable with this man, too. 

“Yeah, I think I do.”

—————

“Stop staring at your phone and moping, oh my god.” Yoongi rolls his eyes at your mood, whispering to Leah about how you’re the rain cloud following them around, ready to ruin the wedding tomorrow. 

You glance at the message one last time before locking your phone and stuffing it into your hoodie’s front pocket. 

You hate that you and Jungkook ended the night like you did, even more that he didn’t text you his usual morning text. The thumbs-up emoji haunted your dreams last night, and you barely slept, waking up throughout the night. The bags under your eyes reflect the nightmares, a fact your annoying little brother enjoyed pointing out when they picked you up at 10 AM.

-10 am flashback

“Shush Yoongi!” Leah berated him gently, “need I remind you how you looked after our almost break-up?”

“Hey! I thought we promised never to bring that up again!” Yoongi pouted the whole trip to the wedding venue for the final review of the plans. 

-end

You sit back in the chair, your head facing away from the floor-to-ceiling window of the wedding venue, wishing not for the first (or even second) time that things had gone down differently last night. Sorting through all of your feelings is a lot harder than you thought it would be. Especially with your brother’s looming nuptials while seated in a decorated wedding hall. 

“I’m not moping, jackass.” You pick at non-existent lint on the sleeve of your hoodie before tilting your head back and allowing the hood to fall off. “I just don’t know what to do with myself.”

“We’re almost done. Leah is just dropping off the last of the checks for the vendors, and we are running through the ‘Day-Of’ itinerary one last time with the planner. Then we can grab some lunch, and you can fill us in on the troubles running through that head of yours.”

“Sushi?” You make your eyes big and pout your bottom lip as you turn your head to look your brother in the face. He looks good; his hair is freshly done with an undercut cropped close to his head and the top layers falling in organized, chaotic layers. He has a healthy glow about him that screams ‘happy and in love’, that makes you feel wisps of green envy. His face breaks out into a smile, eyes disappearing in delight. 

“Of course, princess. Whatever you want, if it means you’ll be in a better mood.”

Hearing Yoongi call you ‘princess’ reminds you of Jungkook, and you turn away again, hiding your crestfallen look as Leah walks back into the room with the wedding planner. Yoongi leaves you to join his soon-to-be wife’s side, shaking hands with the wedding planner as they bid her goodbye and motion for you to meet them at the exit. 

Finally supplied with sustenance, you feel a little better as you chew and swallow the tempura-fried shrimp drizzled in spicy aioli sauce. Though that feeling dissipates a bit when Yoongi sets a deliberate gaze on you. 

“Spill it. I know you're moping about Jungkook, but what happened? Do I have to kill him?” he attempts to make you smile, but the joke falls flat with you today. 

“To be honest, it all happened really fast. One second we were good, really good. And then he just kind of shut down and called me a taxi and kicked me out at like 2 AM.”

“Wait, that dickhead kicked you out at 2 AM? I should fucking kill him! What if something had happened to you?” Yoongi’s ears are red and his eyes glint in anger. Leah reaches out a hand to soothe him as you speak quickly to do the same.

“Nothing happened to me. I’m a big girl, Yoongi. I’m pretty sure I said some hurtful things to him, and if the situation was reversed, I would’ve asked him to leave, too. If I had been a little more sober, I probably would’ve left on my own volition instead of getting into an argument.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Leah cuts in tentatively, “you do like Jungkook, right? Like not just as a friend?”

Your face says everything your mouth won’t as you shift in your seat. Leah nods knowingly, and Yoongi takes a deep breath. 

“Okay. You’ve already told Mom and Dad that you’re dating him or whatever, so what’s holding you back from taking that step with him if you like him so much?”

It takes everything in you to not cut your eyes at him. You see Leah cover her mouth; the mirth there doesn’t match the situation, but she can’t help but feel like her very smart and emotionally aware fiance is missing some important social factors. You don’t blame her for the smile, in fact, you welcome it, knowing full well that she gets it.

“What’s holding me back? Maybe that conversation with Mom earlier this week, where she nagged at me for being single and not giving her grandkids, and then when I told her I was seeing someone, she ridiculed Jungkook’s age? Or how about the fact that the stupid goth art teacher talked shit about how young Jungkook was?” You shake your head, defeated. “Everyone judges the relationship between me and Jungkook, before it’s even a relationship. So what happens when it is real?”

“What changed?” Leah’s brows are furrowed, and you can see her mind sorting through the information you’ve given, or lack thereof. “Something must have happened to make what you had going no longer work for either of you, right?”

You decide to trust them both and tell the truth of what happened.

“So after we left the club, we went back to his place since it was late. Taehyung, Jimin, and Hoseok are now fully aware that there’s something between me and Jungkook because he wasn’t exactly subtle. To be fair, I didn’t stop him either, so I guess if I’m being honest, we weren’t exactly subtle. We get back to his place, and it’s business as usual.” Yoongi grimaces as he reaches for his whiskey, downing the entire thing as you skim most of the sex, though a memory surfaces as you let the night replay in your mind. 

“Oh god!” You slap your hands to your face, covering your mouth. “I just remembered…I kind of let slip that I loved him while having sex,” you mumble into your hands, head dropping down in embarrassment. “And then right afterwards he’s receiving a ‘you up?’ text from SoHee—with a fucking topless picture!—and I just lost it. There was an argument, which I honestly can barely remember what was said. We were both so mad, you know?”

“Wow, no wonder you were mad. I’m guessing he didn’t say anything about your confession,” Leah questions, validating your feelings in a way that warms your heart. You definitely think you and your new sister-in-law (as of tomorrow) will get along great.

“No, he didn’t. And it’s not even that he has to say it back or anything, I didn’t say it for that reason, but the fact that we just had—”

“Please don’t say it again!” Yoongi interrupts.

“I wasn’t! Anyways, the fact that we just had such an intimate moment happen, and here comes SoHee texting Jungkook her perky tits asking if he’s awake? I know a booty call text when I see one.” 

“Wait, but you just said SoHee texted it to Jungkook, right?” Yoongi sits back, a quizzical look on his face. “So, he got a text from SoHee and you got jealous. But I’m gonna be that person right now and point out to you that technically, you and Jungkook aren’t together.”

“Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “Anyways, we were in the bathroom,” you think back through the specifics. “His phone went off, and he set it down to dry my hair, and then it went off again. The message lit up his phone, so I saw the text from SoHee.”

“Sis, you know I love you, but I think you’re jumping to conclusions. It sounds like Jungkook was just the recipient of the messages, not necessarily the instigator. Guys can receive unsolicited tit pics just as much as women get dick pics. People just think all men are horny 24/7, but we also can feel uncomfortable in these situations. If we’re at work or start dating someone new, and an old flame sends us a ‘you up’ text or sends nudes? Not to mention, sometimes we just aren’t attracted to the people sending us stuff. It causes issues no one asked for.” 

Yoongi’s eyes show no malice as he speaks a truth you’re upset with yourself for not realizing in that drunken stupor, or even in the light of today. “Jungkook’s hot, you know? He could’ve just been the recipient of unsolicited nudes. He might actually get quite a few that he ignores, because that man is high-key in love with you.” 

“Honestly, I’ve seen you and Jungkook together, and I agree. Who cares what other people think, especially the ones who don’t know either of you well enough and shouldn’t matter enough to sway your happiness with each other.” Leah looks at Yoongi, and he takes her hand gently. “This wedding tomorrow will not be my first one, but it’s the one that matters the most to me. Your brother loves me on a level that I never knew was possible, thanks to my ex, and though our age gap isn’t as big as yours with Jungkook, I’m still older than him. Both of these are things your mom took issue with, but you know your brother.” She looks over to him with a fondness you understand. It’s how you look at Jungkook. “The only thing that matters is what you and Jungkook want. I know it’s not easy, but it’s infinitely worth it.”

By the time Jungkook finishes a sponge-bath and documents the care Min-Ji received during this time, he realizes it’s past the typical lunch time and that the husband has yet to eat. The three children he mentioned live on the other side of the country, but are traveling now to be with their parents. He had hoped they would arrive earlier with the promised food Mr. Kim is waiting for, but Jungkook insists he get something to hold the man over for the time being. He reminds him of which buttons to press to contact the phone in Jungkook’s pocket, then heads to the canteen.

The employees share the cafeteria area with the visiting families of patients, and it is bustling quite a bit as Jungkook exits the elevators straight into the lobby of the cafe. To the left, the room extends into a seating area once past the cashier lines, and Jungkook sees the moment SoHee spots him through the crowd. 

He’s tired of hiding from people—tired of hiding from his feelings, really—so he decides not to run away this time. If SoHee decides to talk about the messages she sent last night, he will address it and let her down easily. They’re still friends, in Jungkook’s mind, so he smiles at her as she approaches him, soft pink scrubs swishing lightly from her quick steps.

“I am so excited about the wedding tomorrow!”

Jungkook can tell; her smile is glowing. Once upon a time, he might’ve been enthralled by it, it’s still a beautiful smile, and it sucks to know that he might be the reason it fades in a few moments.

“Yeah, me too. I actually wanted to talk to you about it.”

“Yes, that’s why I came over here, in fact, so we could finish coordinating and—”

“SoHee, wait.” Jungkook knows he’s being rude, cutting her off, but the longer she stands there, grinning up at him like that, the more his chest feels tight. “I can’t be your date for the wedding.”

As he predicted, the rosy apples of SoHee’s cheeks lower along with her smile as she processes his words.

“I don’t think I understand?” She's polite as she speaks, head quirked to the side as if showcasing her confusion, but Jungkook is no fool to the glint of a woman’s eye as she braces for battle. 

“I know that it took me a lot longer than I promised to get back to you about this, but I’ve only just figured things out myself, and I just don’t want to string you along.”

“What have you been doing then, if not stringing me along?” SoHee crosses her arms across her chest, stance shifting to one of defensiveness. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, Jungkook, but from my point of view, it kind of seems like you’ve been doing exactly what you claim you don’t want to do.”

Jungkook sighs, restraining himself from rolling his eyes at her words and tone. He can’t help but feel that SoHee is being a bit dramatic—it’s not like he was the one who started all this wedding date talk, and he never even agreed to be her date! He did put off turning her down, but she’s the one who texted him to say he didn’t need to feel obligated to take her. And then she sends nudes and a booty-call text message at the worst possible moment last night and wants to get mad at him?

“Look, SoHee, I know that you probably feel like I’m the bad guy in this, but—”

“You’re an asshole, Jungkook.” SoHee’s voice carries a little too well, and other nurses standing nearby tune into the conversation. He really hates public confrontation like this, especially when he didn’t do anything wrong, and yet, here he is dealing with this bullshit.

Jungkook doesn’t mean the words he says in the way that they come out, but he feels cornered. “What do you want me to say, SoHee? ‘I’m sorry that I like somebody else’? Or possibly, I’m sorry that you sending me nudes I never asked for at 2 AM fucked up my relationship?” He probably could’ve said it with a little less attitude, probably should’ve held back from the second example, especially when he sees the way SoHee’s eyes begin to fill with tears as she looks at all of the gawking bystanders. One of the other nurses walks over and places an arm around SoHee’s shoulder, glaring daggers at Jungkook as if willing him to keel over on the glossy linoleum. 

“You really are an asshole, Jeon. Why would you say that to someone, in front of a crowd? You have no tact.” 

Jungkook is about to fire back at the other woman, but a hand on his shoulder reigns him back in despite his blood continuing to boil.

“Janice, why don’t you escort SoHee to the employee lounge for a bit? I’ll have a chat with Jungkook here.”

Frozen eyes sending a final chilling glare, the women disappear as Jungkook finally moves through the cafe line to the cashier, Jin following quietly. He continues to shadow Jungkook as he makes his way back to the palliative care and hospice unit to deliver the food. As he rounds the doorway, he sees that the patient’s adult children have arrived, a few grandchildren as well. 

To his surprise, Min-Ji is awake, but this only makes him worry about what’s to come. He sets the food to the side, greeting the members of Min-Ji’s family as he does a quick check of Min-Ji’s breathing. The pattern appears abnormal—though normal for someone approaching the end of life. He’s glad her family made it in time to see her; he knows that before the day is out, possibly even before his shift ends, she’ll quietly cross the veil.

Jungkook slips back out of the room to give the family some privacy, and to meet with Jin, who he knows is waiting for him. The two men walk to a nearby empty nurses’ desk, and Jungkook waits expectantly for Jin to speak. 

“Well, that went swimmingly.”

“All thanks to you, my friend,” Jungkook responds snidely, “not only is SoHee mad at me, I’m also not talking to You-Know-Who right now because of a pretty serious fight we had last night.”

“Calm down, she’s not Voldemort,” Seokjin snorts out. “But you two fought about something serious?”

“Yeah…She was at my place last night and saw a series of messages from SoHee that included a nude. She kind of went spastic on me, accusing me of requesting the nudes from SoHee after having sex with her because I’m ‘too young’ to behave any differently. I honestly was so angry, I called her a taxi and sent her home.” 

Seokjin blinks at Jungkook dumbfoundedly before speaking. “Maybe if you’d already told our dear friend you’re banging his sister, and then told her that you want to date her, none of this would have even been able to happen.”

“This advice would’ve been better than encouraging SoHee’s imagination,” Jungkook grumbles out, though his voice takes a softer tone when he says your name as he continues, “if she had wanted to date her brother’s youngest friend, I think she would’ve said something by now.”  The condescension towards the age gap is laced through every word. Seokjin ponders his words before speaking his point of view.

“You know, I think that maybe the two of you put too much weight on this age gap. Even now, you’re taking on this submissive role, waiting for her to tell you or make the first move. But let me tell you a little something about women. No matter their age, they want someone who isn’t afraid to want them back. And you, my friend, are shaking in your scrubs.”  

“I’m not scared,” Jungkook instantly defends, but even he can hear the lie whistle through his teeth.

“Then why are you waiting for her to make all the decisions? Why haven’t you had an adult conversation, sat her down, and told her what you wanted for a change?”

“Because I—” Jungkook pauses, unsure of how to answer. In all realness, he is scared. He enjoys what the two of you have going on, and he worries that if he speaks up for what he wants, if he asks you to change the friends-with-benefits status to something real…being incinerated by the sun after being lit on fire by jet engine fuel would hurt less than the hypothetical rejection he fears. 

Seokjin just gives him a knowing look, his eyes soft with empathy for his younger friend's dilemma. “Just talk to her. Show her you want her, and not just in a friends-with-benefits way.” He once again gives Jungkook that knowing look. “Tomorrow is the perfect opportunity to clear the air. Everyone loves a good wedding.”

“Except SoHee is also going to be there.”

Seokjin curses lowly under his breath and is about to say more when Jungkook’s phone begins to emit a shrill tone for attention. The two men silently make their way back to Min-Ji’s room, knowing that if the phone is ringing, it’s not for any good reason.

It’s been a long day full of revelations. The long talk with your brother and his soon-to-be wife has left you feeling drained and empty. Sitting on your couch, you open up the app to order food from your favorite takeout place barely a block away. Carelessly, you reorder the last meal you placed before slumping backwards into the plush cushions. 

Now that you’ve ordered, you really wish you had chosen delivery, like the lazy ass you want to be, but it’s not that far from your place. You close your eyes for what feels like a moment, but an alert jerks you out of the light slumber you’d slipped into. Your food is ready to be picked up. Sighing, you rock back then forward to lift yourself from the sunken spot on your comfortable couch and shrug on Jungkook’s hoodie for the trek. 

The weather teases a light rainfall, the petrichor scent enveloping you as you quicken your steps through the glass door of the establishment. Approaching the counter, the cashier recognizes you and pulls your order—two plastic bags with a brown paper bag inside each full of steaming hot food.

Checking the receipt stapled to the first bag, you see that you’ve accidentally ordered twice as much food; your last placed order was a meal for two, and the extra food? Jungkook’s favorite dishes from here. With resignation, you grab both bags, attempting to balance them on each forearm and use your foot to push open the door, but the door swings open as a man with an umbrella steps through. 

Jungkook says your name as if it's a curse and a prayer, sidestepping back onto the sidewalk to hold the door for you to exit. You thank him, fully intending to keep walking past him, but he follows you instinctively. 

“Let me help,” he says, his hand reaching out to grab one of the bags, and like muscle memory, you allow it, both of you walking in tandem until you reach your place. Unlocking the front door, he follows you in if only to set down the bag, but you stop him with a hand to his wrist before he can leave. 

“I, uh, accidentally ordered your favorites when I rushed my last reorder. You can have it, if you want. I can’t eat all of this.”

Jungkook just shrugs, and you finally notice how he looks. It’s not good—well, he always looks good; he can pull off anything. It’s more so that he doesn’t look well; his face is pale, eyes listless and devoid of any joy, parts of his face a bright red from being picked at. It’s one of his habits you’re well aware of, like when he bites his nails when nervous. Reaching into the bag, you lift out the container and pass it to him along with napkins and utensils. Taking the food from you, he steps into your living room, plopping down onto your couch as if muscle memory has taken over, he takes off the lid and begins the motions of eating the meal.

Your own thoughts are racing, unsure of what to do or say, so you just say nothing, instead pouring two glasses of water and delivering them to the coffee table before going back for your food. You end up sitting on the smaller couch, the corner closest to where he sits on the larger couch. The room fills with the sounds of you eating, an awkwardness that never used to be there lingering in the air. Your eyes flit from your food to Jungkook’s slow movements, so after you swallow your most recent bite, you take a sip of water before speaking.

“Is everything okay, Jungkook?” The urge to call him ‘baby’—to cuddle him to you and comfort him—is strong, but you resist.

His hand moves the food around a bit, and you watch him as he gathers himself to reply. It feels like hours, but he finally looks at you. “Yeah, I just had a really hard case today. It was a hospice patient, and I spent most of the day with her husband. Well, second husband—but the love of her life, I’m sure.” 

“Oh,” you don’t know what to say; you’re not really sure what made the case so hard, so you wait for Jungkook to elaborate.

“They, uh, knew each other for a long time, since they were kids, you know? But he was the younger brother of her best friend, and she married someone else before he worked up the courage to pursue her. He ended up married to one of her friends instead, but she left him. He said his first wife knew that no one could compete with the girl he actually loved. So when the first husband died in the Gwangju Uprising, leaving her a single mom with a small baby, he stepped in to provide them with a place to live and just help out, but they ended up together eventually and they have a big family.” Jungkook’s eyes look back at his food, a bit teary. “I met their kids and grandkids. They arrived right before she—” he clears his throat, but a small tear sneaks down his cheek.

You reach out for him, pulling the food from his hands and placing it on the table. You scoot closer to him, taking his hands into yours as he looks down at where the two of you connect. He sniffles, trying to stabilize his voice before he continues with his story.

“They arrived right before she passed. She’d been asleep the whole time I was there with her husband, but once everyone arrived, she woke up and was talking to them all, told them she loved them one last time, and then she just…slipped away. I don’t think I can ever forget the sound her husband made as he cried.”

“Oh, Jungkook…” unable to bear it, you join him on the same couch, holding him close to you as he cries. Your own eyes are wet; something about this couple’s story resonates with you after everything that you’ve experienced today.

“I can’t imagine going through that,” Jungkook says with a wobbly voice. “Losing the person that you love the most in the world? I mean, he almost avoided having to go through this, she married someone else! And the chance comes around for him to be with her and he takes it, but the way he cried when he lost her…I’m not sure it’s worth it in the end.” 

His words cut like a knife to your heart. You want to remind him of the good that he told in the story, how the couple had a large family, how the wife was surrounded by the evidence of their love when she died. How the man taking that second chance meant a single mom and her baby had a better life—that anguish he felt when he lost her was because they shared a love like no other. To you, it’s always worth it. 

Instead of saying what you want to say, you ask him what he needs. And those beautiful teary eyes look up at you and he whispers one word; “You,” and you’re unable to say no to him. Not when his lips meet yours with a desperation that you can’t begin to decipher, not when his hands pull you closer, and he clings to you like a lifeline, and definitely not when he sighs out your name against your lips, as if the simple utterance fills him with solace and relief of all that ails him.

His strong hands relieve you of your clothing as his lips remain fervently attached to yours. You relish in the feel of him as your naked form meets his own body, skin to skin, while he lays you back onto the couch. His kiss leaves you dazed; you have no idea how long it took for you both to end up naked, and by the time the question is flying through your mind, Jungkook is already nestled between your thighs, his cock hard and throbbing pressed against your lower stomach and your ankles crossed at his lower back.

When he pulls away slightly—reaching to line himself up with your slick opening—you bite his bottom lip where it was resting against your own, and the sensation causes him to surge his hips forward, fucking himself deep inside you. The intrusion is orgasmic, stretching you to a fullness you only experience when he doesn’t take time to prep you. Jungkook is needy, fraught with a raw emotion he can’t yet put words to, but his body can.

With each stroke, he finds comfort, the grip of your walls building the friction to a pleasurable high that he wants to drown in. Is there anything better to ease his mind than to be buried inside of you? He knows you're close, can feel the way you quicken—hurtling towards climax as you dig your nails into his back and cry out his name. Your body wrapped around him brings him a level of peacefulness that allows his mind to empty and his heavy cock to release thick spurts of cum until you're full and leaking around his softening member. 

You lay underneath him, holding him close as his chest rises and falls, and he peppers kisses along your shoulder. His movements are slow and you can feel the effects of the day taking over and pulling him into sleep. He slides his body so that the two of you are back to front, him curling around you as the big spoon. He grasps the blanket you keep across the top of the couch and attempts to cover you both, but you take over for him. 

He drops his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest as he kisses the back of your head once more. 

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he mutters before he’s softly snoring, and you lay there in his embrace, contemplating what his apology could be for. 

Was he apologizing for sending you home last night? For that thumbs up he sent that ruined your day? Because he feels bad that he only made you cum once after using your body to make himself feel better?  It’s only when you’re about to drift off that you remember his words about his patient, and your mind wonders if his apology is telling you sorry because he can’t give you what you want the most. Himself.

stay tuned for “i’ll be loving you right, seven days a week” coming 9-?-2023!

↣all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2023. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

#bangtansorciere #bangtanbathhouse #clubzerooclock #bangtanwhq #thebtswritersclub #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook au #jungkook writings #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfiction #bts imagines #bts #bts reactions #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts smut #bts au #bts angst #bts fluff #hisunshiine writings #seven days series

[uzumakiramen]

☼ when they have a crush on you [the sand siblings] ☼

gn! reader.

NOT PROOFREAD!!

warnings: 1 curse word.

a/n: maybe I’m a gaara simp. mind your business🤨

gaara

he does not know how to exist around you

becuz hes so used to feeling constant hatred towards almost everyone in his presence it really does catch him off guard when he starts to take a liking to you

you make him nervous!!

and you make his heart race!!!

and you make him feel all tingly on the inside!!!!

like you could just smile at him and his face world turn the same color as his hair😭😭

gaara really doesn’t know how to be near you without blushing or stuttering or just gapping at you like a fish out of water

sooooo he’s definitely the type to admire you from afar

he just can’t help it‼️

the way your eyes light up when every u talk to your friends and the way you smile and laugh with them is just so mesmerizing

seeing you so happy makes him feel all warm on the inside

he’s definitely not getting over this crush anytime soon🙃

temari

she just doesn’t know how to let u be😭😭

she’s always trying to protect u from something

or save u from tripping out in the sidewalk

and as cute as u think it is u try to tell her that it really isn’t necessary

but she just wouldn’t know what to with herself if something happened to u and she could’ve easily stopped it

she just loves you so much—

oop🫢. yeah it’s not even a crush anymore

she’s just in love.

kankuro

to other ppl he’s stand off-ish and arrogant

a bit of an asshole tbh

but with you he’s extremely flirty and actually pretty nice

he’s always throwing pick up lines at you and offering to train with u

he even offers to buy u ur favorite snack after a long day ☺️

he honestly just puts up this whole confident flirty facade to hide the fact that u actually make his heart beat out of his chest everytime he sees u🤭

it’s so out of character for him that you kinda think he’s just pulling a huge prank on you😭

but u enjoy him doing it anyways becuz u most definitely have a crush on him too.

© 2022 copyright. all rights reserved. @uzumakiramen.

#naruto headcanons #gaara x reader #kankuro x reader #temari x reader #naruto fluff #naruto crack #naruto imagines #naruto x reader #kazekage gaara #gaara headcanons #naruto scenarios #faithwrites🌱 [anime vers]

[peachdues]

THE GREAT WAR (PART I) — ANNOUNCEMENTS AND CONTENT WARNINGS

Well, this one has been a long time coming, hasn’t it?

My goal is to get Part I completed and published this weekend. It will be roughly 25-26k words in length.

I’d really appreciate it if y’all can read through this before you read Part I. The Great War is very different from my other fics, in terms of both style and the general setting, so I feel it necessary to give some context.

First, The Great War is a non-linear story. This might seem a bit confusing, given that Part I takes place over the course of a little more than a year. However, you’ll likely notice there are some gaps in the story as you read through — these are intentional. While Part I is a chronological telling of Reader and Giyuu’s relationship, Part II features several major flashbacks to events that occur during the timeline of Part I that are not actually shown in Part I. So if you find yourself getting curious about when a character finds out a bit of information, or referenced some past occurrence that you didn’t read — know that it’s intentional, and it will show up in Part II.

Second, Part I of The Great War follows the canon timeline as closely as possible, with a few minor deviations. There are references to multiple canon events in the series, and I tried to follow it as much as I could. Huge shoutout to @/demonslayedher her incredible timeline.

Third, the reason TGW has taken so long is that I tried to be as historically accurate as was feasible to both Japan and its culture. That said, Shinto shrines and the practices of Shrine Maidens in particular were heavily cracked down upon by the Imperial government during the Meiji Era (the era immediately preceding the Taishō period in which Demon Slayer is canonically set). Obviously the reality of Shinto shrines and their practices during that period complicates the setting of TGW, and particularly, the Reader character, so I took some creative liberties. However, I do reference the fact that the Shrine where the Reader trains is not what it once was, and it functions more like a girl’s boarding house/school, where the girls who live there just happen to also be educated in Shinto practices/Shrine keeping.

Fourth, because there are a lot of references to Japanese culture and practices, I will link an addendum for your reference. The most important things to know is that Miko means “Shrine Maiden,” which is why it is used frequently.

Finally, I do want to acknowledge that the Reader is given a slight description — namely, in terms of her hair. It is described as very long, and when discussed from Giyuu’s perspective, he frequently depicts it as “silky.” This is not meant to be exclusive in any way — lots of hair types can be silky. I do make a very conscious effort to avoid using physically describing my Reader inserts (apart from acknowledging their beauty because, guess what? You’re all beautiful!!) But as the story is set in Taisho Era Japan and Reader is a Shrine Maiden, I found it difficult to avoid giving some vague description of her hair — especially given its importance with respect to a certain gift she receives from Giyuu during Part I. Please know that these references come up very sparingly, and again, I do avoid going into greater detail. Beyond that, she is only described as beautiful from Giyuu’s point of view.

Now, onto the content and trigger warnings.

Like most of my works, The Great War contains explicit sexual content, so minors do not interact.

This next warning is not so much centered around Part I, but more for the story in general. TGW is heavily centered around Giyuu attempting to deal with his trauma following the end of the canonical series — and it does feature violence as well as instances of PTSD. I don’t believe anything is too graphic, but it’s just something to keep in mind. That said, his PTSD will not appear in Part I — however, it will be a main focus of the story from Part II, on.

So, here are the warnings for The Great War

CW: explicit sexual content • MDNI • loss of virginity • unprotected sex • virgins being virgins • oral sex (F!receiving) • squirting • fingering • Giyuu is obsessed with Reader’s pleasure • creampies • semi-public sex • tbh they fuck everywhere but the bed • mention of pregnancy • protective Giyuu • possessive Giyuu • Giyuu is a simp for one person and it’s Reader • pregnancy (later)

TW: canon-typical violence • strangulation • PTSD • depictions of trauma • nightmares • some angst • Giyuu struggles with communicating his feelings • brief instance/implication of stalking by a non-canon character • mild description of panic/anxiety

My goal is to have Part I posted this weekend, so here’s to hopefully seeing y’all soon!

#🍑 — announcement #giyuu tomioka #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny giyuu #giyuu x reader #demon slayer fanfic #kny tomioka #tomioka giyū #tomioka giyu x reader #giyuu

[tillthelandslide]

Same For You : (1) And This Is How It Starts...

A/n: okay guys... I'm all over the place at the moment and I seriously apologise for making series after series and then taking ages to finish them... But here's another to add to the list... This is going to be a slow burn fic but I hope you enjoy. I can't lie, I haven't been this excited for a series in a long time... I really love this one and I hope you guys too. Let me know what you think 🫶🏼 - Lou

Series Warnings: slow burn romance, eventual smut, age gap, complicated relationship (low-key unhealthy dynamics), eventual love...

Series Masterlist

The bar is a dingy little thing down some street in Soho, smoke clouds the room making it harder to see the people sitting in the booths, not that she minded. From where she stood, in the middle of the small stage, she could barely make out the faces of the people who were laughing amongst themselves.

She saw the usual people who attentively listened to their band every week when they did this gig: the guy who would be considered (by most) slightly too old to listen to them, a group of 'edgy' girls and guys who had supported them from the start (their own little fan base), a few of their friends, the usuals.

She stood in front of a microphone, holding her dark green electric guitar, the strap hooked loosely over her shoulders. She wore leather trousers and a black bralette, her hair which was once curled and down now sat in a messy bun on the top of her head.

Her band mates accompanied her, each taking a little break from their set. Her voice filled the small venue and she sounded sure of her self, confident, like she knew her place in the world. And when she was singing, performing, she did, she was home on that stage, on any stage and from the boys say, it was clear as day.

From where Matty, George and Jamie sat, they could see her and her band clearly, but their attention was trained only on her, like it had been the entire night.

"She's really good Jamie, how did you hear about her again?" Matty raises his glass to his mouth after he speaks, his curly mop of hair bouncing as he gestured towards the woman on stage.

"I didn't... George did. She's amazing though, they all are" Matty's eyes flick to George at Jamie's words, who was nursing his own drink, eyes trained on the girl too who was beginning a song on her own.

"She runs in the same circle as Charli" George says and his words surprise Matty. Matty takes in the girl on stage, she was cool, just like Charli, but the music he had heard so far was completely different to hers, more rocky and less poppy, more gritty. She looked like a rockstar and the fact she hung out with Charli's friends surprised him.

"Really? Bit of a different vibe than Char" Matty says, making George nod. It wasn't a bad thing necessary, Matty loved Charli, and obviously George did, but the girl on stage was just... Different.

"I know... Years younger too, but Charli says she's the coolest person she's ever met and that's saying something..." George says, chuckling at the memory of his girlfriend practically fawning over her to him.

"What's her name again?" Jamie asks George, eyes flicking from the stage to George and then back again.

"Y/n, Y/n Y/L/N" Jamie nods, jotting the name down in his phone.

"How have we never heard of her? Never heard her songs?" both Jamie and George shrug at Mattys words, the three of them falling silent and listening to her sing. It was a slower song than before and they hadn't realised she had swapped her electric guitar for an acoustic one. The song stops and she smiles at the people who clapped, the group of people who the guys had now identified as her 'fans' cheered and she laughed at them, throwing a hand their way as if to say "stop it" all with a huge smile on her face.

"Thank you" she says, handing her guitar to someone off stage, before they see the bassist of the band walk over to her, hooking an arm around her shoulders and pulling her towards them. They watch as they black haired bassist whispers something into her ear before she pulls away. The girl they now know as Y/n is then looking directly at them, she doesn't smile, she smirks, before they hear her speak to her microphone.

"So... We have some special guests in tonight" they hear her say. Matty and George's attention is quickly turned away by someone joining their table: Ross.

"Took your time getting here" George's eyes flick from the tall man to the girl on stage, not wanting to miss a single moment, especially now her words were directed towards them.

"Got here as soon as I could, now what's the emergency?" Ross asks, sitting down next to Matty.

Matty points to the stage and Ross' eyes follow him, breath faltering as his eyes landed on her, smiling at him, at them. He didn't often get breathless, but she was truly beautiful, and undeniably cool. As crazy as it was to say, to even think, Ross felt some kind of magnetic pull towards her, instant feeling like a fool for even thinking it, because seriously? Who believes in that? Definitely not him.

"I've been a fan of this band since I was 15... I'm now 24... anyway this is completely unplanned but we've got to give our guests a warm welcome" she nods at them, her words making them all smile. Matty nods at her, a silent thank you and she awkwardly waves back. Her eyes flick to Ross, who she finds staring at her, mouth slightly agape. He feels goosebumps rise to his skin when she sends another smile his way.

"Jesus she's ballsy" Ross says with a smirk on his face, only tearing his eyes from her for a sllit second. They hear the opening guitar of Pressure being played, by her, not the guitarist, her.

"She's fucking good man" George says, visibly getting excited as they listen to them play.

She's hot, she's beautiful, she's amazing Ross thinks.

We need to know her, I need to know her Matty thinks.

Jamie watches with a smirk too, thoroughly impressed.

"She makes Hann look shit" George says, all of the guys present laughing at his words.

"And me..." Matty says, making the three of them laugh again. They all watch in awe, clapping and cheering when the song finishes.

"We have to sign her to the label " Matty says and Jamie nods, calculating a plan in his mind, already searching her name on Google to find out if she had a record deal, a label, anything. The search reveals a few tweets about her band, a small fan base, her Instagram profile and the bands page but no information about whether they had a label or a record deal and the man shakes his head, shocked at this revelation.

They're surprised to see her standing from the stage, passing the guitar to someone off stage, she lets her hair loose from the confines of it's bun and Ross watches in awe as it falls in soft curls down her back. He realises his mouth is hanging open when she begins walking towards them, a soft smile resting against her mouth. Ross saw something sparkle in her eyes, he wasn't sure what it was, but he sure as hell wanted to find out. The idea frightened him to no end but he always felt excitement buzz in his stomach.

"The 1975... Well three of you anyway" the guys smile at her words, not out of politeness or necessity but because she genuinely made them smile. The fact she knew about them, although not utterly surprising, made them happy and for whatever reason, made them feel special.

"Y/N... I know your girlfriend" she extends her hand to George who smiles and shakes her hand.

"I know... I have to say when Charli told me how talented you were I didn't think she meant THAT talented. You're amazing" George says and she smiles, then thanks him.

Matty notices that she was the box tattoo on her wrist, he reminds himself to ask about that later but for now he smirks to himself.

"Matty" he says, offering her his hand to shake.

"I know... Big fan..." She says smiling "of all of you to be honest" she says, Matty can't help but feel proud at her words and maybe he felt something else too, excitement maybe? Her eyes then land on Ross... The one her bandmates knew she had a crush on.

"Ross Macdonald, lovely to meet you darling" he says placing his hand in hers, the tingles they both felt were hard to ignore.

"The bassist..." She says making him nod, her words are laced with something he can't put his finger on. Was it awe? Was it interest? Was it intrigue? He didn't know.

"The bassline for Love Me is one of my favourites... I forced Clara our bassists to learn it when we started playing with each other" she says making Ross smile, she throws a hand over her shoulder, gesturing to a black haired girl walking off the stage. The bassist smiles at them and y/n waves as she smirks back at her.

"Clara" she explains, they all nod.

"What brings you to this bar then? Not really your scene is it?" Her words are accompanied by an eyebrow raise, one which is almost challenging them.

"Charli told us you'd be here tonight" Jamie says "sorry I'm Jamie, the boys manager" she nods.

"We want to sign you to our label, dirty hit" he blurts it right now. He never acted like this, but just like he knew with the 1975, he knew she was it. She had starpower.

"Wow... Okay, guess we need to get to know each other then" she says, sitting down with them, right next to Ross, who was sitting with his arm resting behind her on the booth. She can't help but smirk when he doesn't remove it.

Note: AHHHHH!!! I really hope you like this so far and I hope you're as excited as me for this series!!! You'll just have to keep reading to see what I have up my sleeve for this one... I'm honestly so excited. Love you all and thank you for your continued support, would mean to world if you would like, comment or reblog - Lou

(2) Your Very Own Mirror

#ross macdonald #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy #matty healy x reader #ross macdonald x reader #george daniel #adam hann #ross the 1975 #ross mcdonald fanfic #ross macdonald imagine #matty healy fan fic #matty healy fanfic #matthew timothy healy #matthew healy

[onlinekitsune]

demon boys reaction to catching you singing ♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪

this is incredibly self indulgent but i just had to do a little drabble on this!! there’s no way the brothers aren’t at least somewhat musically talented… especially since they all have songs!!! and i don’t see people talk about it much? and as a person who listens to music constantly, i had to change that

LUCIFER ; he went to ask you something but found you singing in the music room, whatever he wanted to ask is long gone, he is stunned and mesmerized by your voice, he just stands there not wanting to interrupt you or for you to pause, your voice was the most soothing thing he’d ever listen to, no vinyl could compare to you, he’d give you a very much worthy applause, and ask if you wanted to sing another song while he’d play piano, you obviously say yes, on the back of lucifer’s mind he was wonder how’d he get you to record a vinyl just for him

MAMMON ; per usual he’d come crash in your room, before he got there though he heard you singing, but not just any song your guys song, not officially but that’s what mammon thought whenever he heard it, he totally did not associate it with you at all, there was a duet in the song, mammon took the chance to fill in the gap, and maybe impress you, he’d sing the other part while walking in the room, acting like it was nothing despite being so nervous, he’d trip over scattered items on your floor but would continue his lines, he avoided your gaze while waiting for you to join him, he didn’t want to expose how much he’d be blushing

LEVIATHAN ; he’d left his room for a little bit, not too long he’d never keep you waiting for long, but long enough for you to start singing an opening from the current anime you two were watching, it was catchy and stuck in your head, instantly the blue coded demon was bright pink, you were too cute for him, this was something that only happened in anime, so why is it happening now, he’d make his presence well known by falling right in front of you, you stop from the sudden thud of levi, he’d apologize relentlessly for interrupting you, you assured him it was okay, he’d want to sing it again for him

SATAN ; to no ones surprise (expect satan) the library wasn’t the most occupied room in the house, you’d sneak in there to just have time to yourself and to sing without being interrupted, or so you thought, satan decided to treat himself to a cozy reading time at the library, upon hearing music he was a little confused, he didn’t really expect someone in there playing music, you guys had a whole music room, but as he peeked in and saw you he was pleasantly surprised, he didn’t hesitate much, he had other motives, he booked it to his room and grabbed his violin, he returned accompanying you on your song, you couldn’t help but to be enamored 

ASMODEUS ; you didn’t necessary avoid asmo when you sang, but you knew he’d give it so much attention, you were caught off guard one day while scrolling through devilgram, you were mindlessly scrolling while singing, nothing too impressive to you, but when asmodeus caught you he was in awe, to your surprise he didn’t make such a big deal out of it (yet), he’d instantly wip out his phone to record, for his personal viewing but he’d totally think about the views he’d get from posting it, then he would make a huge deal out of it, bombarding you with why you never told him you could sing like that, how long have you been singing, can you sing for him again, he’d also ask you if you wanted to do it professionally, he would use his connections to make that happen if you ever wanted

BEELZEBUB ; cooking and cleaning was a no brainer combo, it made the whole process just so much better, and whenever you had cooking duty with beel it was perfect, you were very comfortable singing with him present, but when you first sang with him while cooking he just stopped dead in his tracks, he didn’t expect how heavenly your voice sounded, it was sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted, beel wasn’t much of a singer but he’d hum along to whatever you decided to sing, he’d want to indulge himself in your song anyways, there was a little bit of pride and love knowing that you felt so comfortable around him that you’d sing by him

BELPHEGOR ; he was aware of your talents from long ago, you’d sing on the staircase to the attic late at night, he didn’t really bring it up, that was until he caught you singing in the planetarium at night, the atmosphere and the echo of your voice was too perfect for you to not sing in here, especially at this time with the stars above you, belphie wouldn’t say anything but he’d sit beside you and look at the stars, you’d pause for a second, not really knowing if you should continue, but he’d ask for you to while he stared at the stars, you’d soon sing him to sleep before falling fast asleep beside him

#omswd #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me fluff #obey me fandom #obey me brainrot #om! lucifer #om! mammon #om! leviathan #om! satan #om! asmodeus #om! beelzebub #om! belphegor #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #lucifer avatar of pride #mammon avatar of greed #leviathan avatar of envy #satan avatar of wrath #asmodeus avatar of lust #beelzebub avatar of gluttony #belphegor avatar of sloth #🌸🍙 ━ mochi's recipebook

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hi, I have a technical question, I guess.

Lately I’ve repeatedly run into an issue when my characters are talking about basically the events of the previous scene — like, A and B do/witness something meaningful to the plot, then A talks to C, who wasn’t present at a time but needs to have that info. For example, a doctor sends the nurse to check in on their patient, then said nurse reports back and so on.

I’m not sure how I’m supposed to go about such cases — including both the scene and corresponding dialogue portion feels repetitive and redundant, cutting out the scene in favor of intact dialogue turns my narration into “tell, not show”, keeping the scene and skipping the corresponding lines leaves a huge gap in the dialogue that feels awkward and unnatural.

How would you solve this?

Keeping Absent Characters in the Loop

There's only so much you can do to keep an absent character in the loop when they miss out on important events. That said, your best bet is to alternate between the different methods to minimize repetition as much as possible. Here are the methods...

1 - Try to Work Them In - This won't work most of the time, because if the character's not in the scene, that's probably for a good reason. Still, it's worth going through these scenes and making sure there's not a way for the character to be in them. In other words, make sure their absence from the event is necessary. Because if you can eliminate even a few of these scenes where a character is missing and will need to be caught up later, that only helps things in the long run.

2 - Dialogue Catch-Up - This is definitely the method you'll use the least, because it really only works for scenes where there are just a few quick salient points the other characters need to know, and then other things for them to discuss/do in the scene.

So, for example, let's say you have the doctor sending the nurse to check on the patient. Then the nurse has to fill the doctor in on the patient's status, but also they need to discuss a couple other patients, and then a new patient arrives. This could be a good option for the dialogue catch-up, because after the scene where the nurse checks on and interacts with the patient, she can come back to the doctor and just say, "Sally is tired but ready to go home, and her vitals look great," and that's that... they can move onto the other stuff, and there's no repetition or rehashing of the actual scene.

3 - Reference of Future Catch-Up - Another option would be to have one character mention that they're going to catch the absent characters up later. Then, you can just skip that dialogue catch-up scene entirely, because the reader knows that catch up will happen. When the absent characters show up again and already know what they need to know, it's understood that they were caught up off-screen.

For example, the nurse can pat Sally's arm and say, "I'm going to let you get some sleep while I go catch Dr. Howard up on how you're doing." When the nurse and doctor are interacting in the next scene, maybe that evening, if the doctor says, "I'm sure glad Sally is doing so well," it won't be weird that he knows that. The reader understands the nurse caught him up later off-screen.

4 - Reference of Previous Catch-Up - Alternatively, you can start the subsequent scene with the absent characters saying they were already caught up. For example, you might start a scene with the doctor where he's interacting with another nurse who asks about the patient, Sally. Maybe the nurse can say, "I heard Sally is doing well?" And the doctor can say, "She is. Karina checked on her earlier and her vitals looked great." Or, maybe the nurse approaches the doctor and says, "Did Karina catch you up on how Sally's doing?" and the doctor can say, "Yes, she reported back to me about ten minutes ago. She's doing great!" Or, maybe the doctor walks into the next scene looking at his cell phone, and someone asks, "Good news?" and he says, "Yes, Karina checked on Sally and says she's doing great."

5 - Exposition Catch Up - You can also use exposition to let the reader know the characters were caught up. For example...

Doctor Howard was still beaming from Karina's update about Sally. Things had been touch and go for so long, he wasn't sure there would be a day when her vitals were steady. For the first time in a long time, he felt hopeful that she would be going home soon.

This method is great because it lets you also examine what the character thinks and feels about whatever information they learned about the event they missed. It's a good opportunity to work in other relevant details

By alternating between these methods and using the method that works best for each situation, you can greatly reduce the sense of rehashing previous scenes in character catch-up dialogue.

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[neongreenllama]

Prompt: Conquest

@wolfstarmicrofic - 895 words

Genderqueer, slutty Sirius?

cw explicit talk of kinky sex

-

“I told him to go harder, I swear to God he went softer. I was just like are you gonna be done soon? Like I was dreaming of going back to studying.”

Chairs screeching and plates clattering, a loud group of students sat down at the table Remus had previously eaten alone at. He’d been hoping to get some peace to go over his notes before the next lecture, but at this time of day the cafeteria was always crowded.

“And he kept calling himself Daddy,” one of them kept talking, animatedly and probably louder than would be necessary to be heard over the general bustling. ”Like, Daddy is gonna give it to you, and, tell me how bad you want Daddy’s cock, and I was just like ugh stop.” They rolled their eyes in a way that clearly spoke of disdain.

Remus pretended to be focused on his notes and his food, but he was glancing up out of the corner of his eyes to look at the person who was apparently talking about their latest conquest. They were very pretty. Long black hair, a lot of piercings, and tattoos. Just from the way they dressed, which included a skirt, a mesh shirt, and a bright green oversized blazer, it was impossible to make out what gender they identified as.

“His cock wasn’t even that good. Below average for sure. Like he said to tell him how big his cock is and of course I was like, sooo big, I don’t know if I can take it, but –“ They gave a pointed Look and held their thumb and index in a way that left a very small gap.

“Your standards are just too high,” someone else, a girl with a huge afro, chipped in. “You’re always complaining.”

“What do you even want with cock, pussy is so much better,” a girl with a shaggy bleached mullet added, grinning at a girl with the prettiest, longest braids Remus has ever seen.

The other girl grinned back, and they shared a French fry in the most PDA fashion possible. Remus felt out of place witnessing it and quickly looked back at his notes.

“I haven’t even got to the worst part yet,” the person continued as if the couple wasn’t breaking the university’s campus rules. “He wanted me to piss on him. He said ‘Yeah you little bitch, you wanna piss on Daddy?’” they imitated a deep, rough voice. “I was like no. No I don’t. Like whatever I guess, do what you want, I don’t care what you’re into, but I don’t even know you and I’m not into that. Like do that with your girlfriend but leave me out of this.”

They stole a handful of the couple’s French fries and shoved them in their mouth, earning them loud complaints. Again they completely ignored the couple and simply shook their head at the audacity of their one night stand.

“And he was like call me, and I was just like yeah, yeah, whatever. I deleted that number so quickly,” they added with a laugh.

They must have felt Remus looking because their eyes met for a brief moment before Remus quickly looked away, desperate to pretend he hadn’t been staring or listening. These people were cool and they knew it, which made them arrogant, the black haired one most of all. And cool, arrogant people were the sort to pick on the quiet loser people Remus was a part of.

A red-haired girl huffed. “Have you ever thought about being nicer?”

“Mhh.” They made a show of thinking about it. “No.”

They grinned sweetly at her. Remus wanted to roll his eyes.

“But if –“ she tried to argue, but a man with his arm around her shoulder interrupted her.

“You can’t stop Sirius from doing anything, babe. It’s useless to try.”

Remus almost scoffed.

“Exactly, Prongsie gets it.”

They high-fived each other and one of the girls changed the subject to upcoming lectures. Sirius’ eyes caught Remus’ once more before he returned his plate and left for the bathroom.

He was washing his hands when Sirius came in.

“A piss kink, really?” he asked drily, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.

A huge, shit-eating grin grew on Sirius’ face as they shrugged. “I have to keep up an appearance.”

“But do you have to be so …” obnoxious about it, he wanted to say, but refrained from it because the answer was clearly yes.

“What? You’re telling me you don’t like to be called Daddy?” They blinked innocently, nearly pouting.

He huffed. “I don’t.”

They leaned in over his shoulder.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” they whispered close to his ear and Remus would keep pretending for the rest of his life that never affected him. After a few seconds and in a normal voice Sirius added, “We could also just tell them.”

Remus let out a sigh. “Not yet. I just … need a bit more time,” he said and felt bad about it because he knew how much Sirius’ friends meant to them. He just wasn’t ready yet.

“Whatever you say, baby, but I’m telling you they’ll love you. More than me probably. If anything, I should be the one worried that they’ll replace me with you.”

He looked up at the mirror to take in the sight of Sirius and himself next to each other.

“Soon,” he promised.

#wolfstarmicrofic #conquest #cw sex talk #cw kink #genderqueer sirius #genderfluid sirius #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar fic #wolfstar #remus x sirius #marauders #marauders girls #with a side of dorlene and jily #i'm never gonna be able to post these on the day im sorry