paulmescalsbootycheek

[koolaidoverwriting]

GENERAL DATING HEADCANONS

CHARACTERS: Eyeless Jack, Jeff the Killer, Gender Neutral Reader

Request. I wasn't sure if you meant Jack x Jeff. I stuck to separate SFW and NSFW headcanons. But you can send another ask to clarify! :)

CW: Explicit Sexual Content, But Also Romantic Fluffy Stuff, Blood, Self-Harm, Cannibalism, Biting, Not Graphic

NSFW UNDER CUT! MINORS DNI!

EYELESS JACK

SFW:

Jack doesn't feel as much empathy or sympathy as other people. It definitely takes a long time for him to warm up to you, let alone get comfortable enough to date you.

Jack is an outlier in the mansion. He likes being alone, doing his own thing. Plus, a lot of people don't like his bluntness and sarcasm.

His tar spills faster when he's upset, but it's pretty much gone when he's happy. That's why he hardly cries tar around you.

He has a hard time showing affection through his words, but you know he loves you. Sometimes, he just pops up and holds your hand, or wraps his arms around you.

When you're hurt, he tends to your wounds, cooks you warm meals, and stays by your side. It's a mutual silence where you're just enjoying each others' presence.

Jack is a bookworm. You spot the books he reads and you check them out. Jack is over the moon when you randomly reference his favourite book. "Did you really read that for me?"

Surprisingly, Jack talks a lot. He rants about his interests in gardening and science.

Speaking of gardening, he'll most definitely grow your favourite flowers for you. He'd give you handmade bouquets and flower crowns, as well as perfumes and scented candles.

Jack isn't against light–hearted teasing. He says flirty things just to catch you off guard since you aren't used to it. Most of these "flirty things" are phrases he heard from TV shows.

He does try to get you to try kidneys. If you refuse it because it's raw, he'll cook it for you. If you refuse it because it's gross, he'll shrug a shoulder and eat it himself.

NSFW:

Jack is gentle with you. He knows how much smaller you are in comparison, so he makes sure he doesn't bruise you.

If you allow it, he'll bite you enough to draw blood, but nothing more.

His ears are sensitive! Licking or biting them gets him all worked up.

Jack has three tongues that overlap in his mouth, meaning he's a fucking demon with oral sex. His tongues squirm inside of you, hitting all the right spots. He could eat you out for hours before substituting his tongues for his cock.

When he sees you're close, he only fucks you harder.

Jack's cock doesn't fit inside you all the way. Your senses leave you, and you're a drooling, blubbering mess as he rams into your entrance.

After you're done, he'll clean up any blood that spilled and kiss your bite marks. While cuddling, he asks you what you want to eat. He'll cook anything for you.

JEFF THE KILLER

SFW:

Jeff lives in the mansion and has been living there since he was 17. Before that, he lived with a blind old woman who thought he was her grandson.

Dating him means you're going to have to get used to his angry outbursts until he learns how to control them better. He tends to lash out and then apologise later. You're sure with enough patience, things might get better. Especially because you know he's trying his best.

He loves emo music. In fact, he collects merchandise from the concerts he sneaks into. At night, you get to cuddle with Jeff while some emo song blasts on his speaker.

He also plays the electric guitar and would love to teach you how to play. And if you already know how to play, he'll get really excited about duetting with you.

Jeff has had self-esteem issues since the incident. He tries everything to make himself "beautiful", taking extensive care of his skin, hair and clothes.

He believes the scar makes him look better, maybe because it distracts from other parts of his face he's insecure about. He refreshes his cut every month.

You have to remind him that he's beautiful just the way he is. There are nights where you argue over it, but you try everything you can to help him overcome his insecurities — or at least accept his flaws.

He has a knife collection. He paints the handles of his knives all different colours. Some days, you could sit and talk with Jeff while you paint knife handles together.

"Can I test the sharpness on you?" "What?" "...I'm joking."

Jeff isn't a good cook. He never put time into learning how to cook. You, knowing he has to learn at some point, convince him you're on a "cooking date" whenever you want to teach him how to make a meal.

NSFW:

I already have a NSFW post for Jeff, but these are softer alternatives for when he's in a relationship.

Known fact: Jeff will use his knife during sex. He enjoys grazing it across your skin, smiling at your "cute" reactions.

The tip of the knife scratches your thighs. Your legs twitch as he looks into your eyes with a needy look.

Jeff likes seeing your desperation. He loves it when you grind against him, begging for his cock. He'll keep his hands off you, forcing you to grind helplessly. "Horny little bitch... Yeah, tell me how much you want me."

He fucks you at a rough, unstable rhythm as he tries to reach his peak. When he's in the zone, it's only his orgasm that matters to him.

Jeff mutters profanities under his breath with almost every thrust. It's a mixture of praise and degradation. "Fuck... D–Damn slut... You feel so fucking good..."

For aftercare, he doesn't do much. Just small things like giving you water and cuddling with you in bed. It's simple and it's nice.

!!! i'm very sorry if you meant "jack x jeff"! feel free to let me know in another ask, though!

[bunnys-kisses]

hi bunny!!! if the bakery isn’t too busy, maybe i could get some sausage rolls with a side of cider for me and my bf John Price :D

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! there is all kinds of stuff to pick from!! as for this lovely person, thank you for the submission! i am so happy that you picked john price, i love him. he is my sweet big bear and i want him to smother me with his biceps <3333. thank you for ordering!

sausage rolls ("i wonder how much i could get for photos of this cunt.") + cider (body worship) served by capt. john price (call of duty)!!

cw: smut/pwp, body worship, age gap (20s/40s), older!price, size kink & difference, outdoor sex, fuckin' on a plastic lawn chair, husband!price, naked reader/clothed price

"baby girl." he said, his voice a low drawl as he leaned back in the plastic chair in the back garden.

you looked over after tending to the tomato plants by the fence. you were bent over to look at the soil, with your gardening gloves on and big floppy hat to keep the sun off your face. you smiled, "yes, honey!"

he took a sip of his beer and shifted in his seat a little, "c'mere."

you raised your eyebrows, "c'mere? why don't you come here, since you're just sitting there."

price chuckled and said, "please, baby girl. i'm just so comfy right now."

you chuckled, "comfy? on that plastic chair? sure.' you took off the gloves and walked towards him. you felt price's eyes linger across you form. your husband's gaze made you hot all over.

he took another sip of his beer and said, "you're the most beautiful thing out here." he smiled against the rim of the beer bottle. he loved the sight of you now perched on his knee. he drank in your beauty.

you were in shorts and a t-shirt that price kept in the back of the closet, from his early days in the military. one of his large hands came and pushed up the shirt a little, exposing your body to him.

he licked his lips, "always so beautiful." he chuckled before you leaned in for a gentle kiss on his lips. he shifted a little more in his seat as he got his hand onto the button of shorts you wore. once that was undone, his hand dipped in between your legs and rubbed against your panty-clad cunt. he groaned a little against your skin, "someone feels good, huh beautiful?"

you said, "please, john. we were supposed to be gardening."

he chuckled, "the plants will be there when we're done. so why doesn't my beautiful wife get undressed and let me see all it." he licked his lips once more.

you took off your top and price's large hands palmed at your breasts. you squirmed a little bit and felt the stutter in your pulse. your husband's grasp on you made you feel warm all over.

price grabbed at your thighs to get your shorts off of you, and you squirmed in his lap to get them off along with your panties. price then took the motion to take off your bra as well, leaving you naked in the private backyard you had.

the high fences would keep from any prying eyes on your love making. price held you by one hip as with his other hand he got his cock out of his basketball shorts.

he looked hot in the grey pair and a tight white t-shirt. and only the sight of his cock made you more aroused. and then when he placed you onto his cock and leaned back into the lawn chair for you to work on his length.

"oh you're beautiful." he purred. his smile large as he held onto you soft hips, "so beautiful." he ran his hands up and down, "i'm the luckiest man in the world because i get to sink my cock into this every night. you playfully smacked his chest and he laughed, "i'm jokin', baby girl. i love you."

"i love you too, honey." you replied as you tried to meet his thrusts as the two of you made love in your backyard.

it was the god's honest truth. you loved him, he made you feel warm all over and deeply loved. his affection for you was not limited to physical intimacy. you heard and felt how he worshiped your body, that you were the highest creation ever made. more beautiful than roses, and sweeter than honey.

you moved up and down price's cock and took his face in your hands once more. the two of you began to kiss softly, his hands continued to roam your curves.

"my beautiful wife."

you giggled, "i'm not that beautiful."

he rested his hands on your hips and moved up against your pussy. the drooling head pressed against your cervix. price was a big man all over, and he made you feel good. he looked into your eyes and said, "i'm not lyin', love. you are the most beautiful thing i've ever seen. everythin' about ya drives me crazy."

you moaned a little louder and he basked in the feeling of you. you held onto his shoulders tightly, feeling the well loved t-shirt under your fingertips as you continued to move against him even more.

price continued to meet your pace, he felt the rush through his body. you were just so perfect for him. he loved you, you had captured his whole heart. and he'd love you forever.

"mmm, john." you panted.

he replied in that gruff voice, "i know, baby girl. i love you too. always and forever." he panted heavily.

you held onto him tightly, your breasts in his face to get the best angle. you arched your back a little bit and let out a loud moan. you came around your husband's cock

price bit gently into the flesh of your breasts, bruising it all up.

you panted wildly, knowing your husband was close too. you raked your nails across his shoulders, "fuck, price."

he finished inside of his sweet beloved with ease. he could feel at rest knowing that he made you both feel good. he held onto your hips and helped you into a different position so you didn't slip off the chair by your knees.

he panted a little bit before he took your face in his hands. he then pulled you in for a hot kiss that made a shudder run through you. when he parted the kiss soon after he said, "why don't we get ya dressed and inside. i don't want you to get a sunburn." then kissed the apple of your cheek.

price's other hand groped your ass and you giggled. the feeling was euphoric, your husband's touch was like a current. he'd help you put your clothes on, he'd even help you tend the garden after with his cum running down your leg <3

[zombieplaygrounds]

cw: noncon hinted, hinted somno, creampies, sexual fantasies, masturbation, fem! afab reader, forced impregnation, stalker behavior, dead dove do not eat

MDNI.

It rained today; it had rained the day before as well. But today was different - at least, for Simon it was. The usual scent of cigarette the reeked around the neighborhood was washed away by the sweet, fresh fragrance of rain. He couldn't fucking sleep for the life of him, too accustomed to his shitty, inflexible work schedule. Sleep for three hours, wake up, report in, missions, come back, standing duty, work out. It was a filthy, scrambled jumble of a schedule that made his brain hurt.

His only luxury was the reservation of his civilian life.

Didn't socialize. Hell, he barely even glanced at someone's face for longer than a few seconds - didn't need to. He had already memorized their features for as long as he deemed important. Which is how he got to finding you.

You, his pretty little neighbor. You were all too fucking sweet for a bastard like him to have such possessive fantasies about. Spend the day time outside, tending to a garden, barbequing, reading a book while bathing in the sun. Your reading glasses were a cute look for you, as was everything else.

And in the evening, when you got to cooking, you'd prop open your kitchen window and let the food cool down. The sound of your dishes being scrubbed could be heard from his own yard - it's not eavesdropping if you're so got damn loud, darling. You yammer to your friend about life, work, the bullshit you experience and the guy who tried to get in your pants last week.

Oh, a pretty thing like you doesn't deserve to tell such vulgar stories. And Simon knows it's wrong to listen. He really does have morals, and respect, and chivalry. Sure, it's hard to prove that when he's fisting his hung cock. Muffling his grunts with sucks of air and shaky exhales.

Your laugh makes his cock twitch, and your sweet little "Mhmm"s make his tip leak with bitter tasting pre. He's sure he'd taste awful, splattered in your mouth. He was sure that you were spoilt on the delicacy meals you'd make in your kitchen. Simon wouldn't force you to endure something so cruel. He'd let his cream fill your cunt, holding your hand while you cry through your orgasm, because he is a gentleman.

Realistically, Simon probably couldn't last long. Especially given the way he busted in his pants the one time you came over to the fence, leaning over it with a hop on your ladder. Gave him a great view of your tits, something you had to be aware of as you begged him to give you some of the oranges from his tree.

'Course, he complied, who was he to reject his sweet little thing?

But love, when you initiate something like that, don't be surprised when the creep at your work randomly disappears. And when you wake up to the window you left open last night closed shut, and your panties full of a sticky white liquid. If they were even still on, you'd be lucky to have some dirty panties left.

You figured, you were a sleep walker. So innocent you are. Go to the doctor about all the "discharge" leaking out of you, not even questioning the throb against your cervix and imagining they were just some cramps from an upcoming period. One that never would come. And only when he hears you sobbing while waiting for one of your pies to cool down will he approach, very sweetly asking what's wrong. Leaning by your window well you break the news to him. You're gonna be a mother, and you don't even know the father. You've been abstinent for months!

Much to your surprise, your neighbor, generously offers to help. Because baby, he gets those combat paychecks; money isn't an issue for him. Simon would generously help you, from the bottom of his heart, with no ill intent, of course.

The military offered great family benefits, after all.

ahh </3 I haven't written in so long :T

anyways i wanted to try writing somno stuff because why not.

[tender-rosiey]

Hii! Could you write another part of husband Sukuna? I really liked Rhymes and I just can’t stop rereading it (atp I have unhealthy obsession with sukuna fluff). If it’s bothering you no need to write it 💗

Wishing you amazing day/night 💗

that of flowers — sukuna x f!reader

a/n: it makes me so happy that you liked rhymes, luv <33 hope you like this as well and have a wonderful day/night too 💕

“sukuna, look!”

he sighs, “when I said we could go to the garden, I didn’t say you can trample over my stuff, woman.”

you stop in your track and sassily turn to him, “don’t act like you care about the flowers, mister.”

he grumbles, “I don’t,” and you notice his glance gravitate towards you, “I tend to be possessive over what’s mine, you know that.”

heat rises into your cheek as you look away.

his gaze never fails to fluster you; it’s so intense.

“a-anyways,” you quip before running to the flower field.

he merely watches you: he was never one for to participate in such active activities, save for fighting, of course.

he sees you kneel down and start to gently stroke the flowers’ petals with a soft smile on your face. you start thinking about something and he sees the way you brighten up at whatever idea you came up with.

you’re so obvious, he thinks, such an open book. but perhaps it’s just because he spent so much of his time with you, he even learned every single one of your mannerisms.

he knows when you’re sad, mad, excited, happy, and everything else.

it surprises you every single time, especially since he seems like the type to not care much about anything but his own desires.

so when you think back to all the moments he was able to tell your mood in a glance, you can’t help but laugh at how perceptive your husband is.

maybe it’s because of how observant he generally is, but, of course, it peaks during battles and matters related to you.

on the other hand, he thinks, til now, it��s all because of the amount of time he spent with you.

obviously, he would remember every detail about you, right?

both of you failed to realize in the beginning that one of his desires, that soon came to be, was one to protect and love you—a love befitting of the king of curses, not overly affectionate, but it’s there.

he claims he is not obvious with what’s on his mind, but when you run to him, smiling with a flower crown and hopping from happiness, he can’t help but sigh contently.

though no ears hear it.

“sukuna! what do you think of the flower crown?” you beam and he grunts while eyeing said flower crown.

“it doesn’t matter to me.”

“well, it should,” you smile mischievously, “especially since I made it only for you.”

his eyes twitch, “I am not wearing that ridiculous thing; I am a feared king.”

you grab your chest dramatically and fall to the ground, “you would deny your wife of such a simple request?!”

“all I want is of you to wear this crown I wholeheartedly made for you, my king!”

another thing you noticed that you’ve come to learn that the fastest way to make sukuna do something you want is to either compliment him or act dramatic.

so it’s not surprise to you when he sighs before sticking his hand out.

“oh? what is it that you want, my dear husband?”

“don’t antagonize me, woman; give me the damn crown!”

you chuckle and rest a hand on your hip while you wave the flower crown in your other hand, “you mean this?”

sukuna is a man who does not need to do much to get what he wants.

accordingly, he simply crosses his arms and glares at you.

eventually you start giggling and finally give him the flower crown.

he wears it, albeit reluctantly, and he says nothing more. his gaze still never leaves you.

you cup his face, “you look lovely.”

he quirks an eyebrow, a frown ‘adorning’ his face, “I am the king of curses; I am not ‘lovely’.”

you press a kiss to his cheek, “to me you’re and it’s nothing bad.”

he smirks, “oh? why’s that?”

you then hug him tightly, “because I am your wife!”

he grunts.

“you’re trouble,” he grumbles before pulling you close gently—as a man like him could— and kissing the top of your head, “and nothing more.”

a giggle escapes your lips, “still, you keep me around.”

“against my will; trust me.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will face the wrath of the rock

[arkadijxpancakes]

Yes. The Weasleys had too many kids. An analysis. (Part 1 of 2)

Everyone who read Harry Potter read about the prejudices regarding the Weasleys: They all have red hair, are poor and have more kids than they can afford. Insert a sneering Malfoy here.

The books were adamant that that was not the case. The Weasleys are depicted as the best family in the books. (Just look at the others. The Dursleys were narrow-minded, bigoted and abusive. The Malfoys were bigoted terrorists. The Lovegoods were weird. Let’s not even start about Merope and Riddle.)

However, if you look closer, the prejudices have some truth to them: They had more kids than they could afford. However, money isn’t the issue here, not really.

Yes, the Weasleys are clearly depicted as members of the working class. They don’t have much money and fall back on second-hand stuff a lot of the time. Ron in particular is shown to be using hand-me-downs in book one.

However, they don’t live in abject poverty. The family owns their own home on their own land. They have a garden to grow their own vegetables and they have chickens. This means that food scarcity shouldn’t be a big issue for them, because they can produce a lot of it on their own. (Magic should make this even easier, because they can use it for the gardening stuff. And if we assume that you can duplicate food, this should keep everyone well-fed.)

The main issue when it comes to money isn’t that they don’t have anything. They have clearly enough money to stay comfortably over water. They just don’t have enough money to buy all the fancy shit the wizarding world uses as status symbols. (Like racing brooms and dress robes.)

Could things be better, money-wise? Sure. But one can have a loving, comfortable childhood, even with second-hand clothes and working class food. So no. It’s not about the money.

It’s about time. 

And it's also about how the parents divide that time (and the work that comes along with it.)

The Weasleys follow a family structure one would expect from a muggle family of their time (the second half of the 20th century): Arthur is the one who goes out to work and earns money, while his wife Molly is a stay-at-home-mother who takes care of their home and kids. It’s also just their nuclear family that lives in the burrow. There are no other relatives (no grandparents and no aunts or uncles, either) living there.

I find this a little bit weird, tbh. The nuclear family (parents and kids) living alone, without any other relatives and with the father as the sole breadwinner, is a pretty new development. The practice only really established itself after the Statute of Secrecy went into effect. It developed first in the upper classes (who used this to flaunt their wealth) and in urban centers (where there was no space to live together with your extended family.) Before this, living with one's extended family was very common, especially in rural areas, where it was beneficial to stick together. The Weasley’s don’t really have a reason to live as a nuclear family. There is no need for wizards to follow the Muggle trend, and things were different before the statute. Living with other, adult family members would also be beneficial, especially for Molly. And the books do suggest that the extended family is quite large, so “They don’t live with other relatives, because they don’t have any” doesn’t fit their situation either.

This is a common theme for Rowling, by the way. She tends to ignore the extended families of her characters, whenever it is possible. The numbers of grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins that get mentioned in the book is incredibly low. (The only character who seems to have close connections to his extended family is Neville – and that’s because the other members of his nuclear family are completely absent because of health reasons.)

Anyway. When we look back at the Weasleys, this leaves Molly basically as a tradwife. (Minus the religious baggage.) But let's start at the beginning. 

(Note: I will focus on the books in this. I don’t consider the games canon and will not use them as a source.) Arthur and Molly were born around 1950. We know that he went to Hogwarts from 1961 to 1968. They were close enough in age to start a relationship while still at Hogwarts, and they married shortly after graduating. For this to work, she must have been in his year or maybe the year below or above.

Bill was born in 1970 and was followed by six siblings, the last who was born in 1981. So from the age of ca. 20 to the age of ca. 33 Molly was either pregnant or nursing at least one baby at any given time. (There might have been a short break in that pattern between Charlie and Percy, but it only got worse after that.)

As I said before, Molly and Arthur seem to have a very traditional division of labor between them: He works at the ministry and earns money, she takes care of their home and kids. This means that Molly has drawn the short end of the stick.

While Arthur is working one job 9-5, Molly has to work three jobs and at least one of them is 24/7. Let’s pick them apart:

Her first job is to take care of the home. Molly cleans the house and does the laundry. It is also very likely that she is not only responsible for cooking, but for food production in general. This means that she takes care of the garden and chickens. This would be pretty exhausting, if not for her magic. She can likely cut down on time and effort by using magic for most of those tasks.

On top of this, she is also producing at least some of the clothing her family wears. We don't see her sewing, but she knits a lot. She is using magic for that, too.

Her second job is to raise their kids. Molly is their primary caregiver and does most of the parenting. This is a difficult job to begin with, but there are seven of them. This is where her workload starts to stretch her thin. It can’t be easy to do the laundry, while Ginny needs to be fed, Bill and Charlie are arguing in the backyard, and the twins have just vanished. Magic is less helpful here, because a lot of the work requires her to interact with her kids. She can’t really flick her wand to speed that up.

On top of that - and this is where things get even worse - there doesn't seem to be any kind of elementary school in Wizarding Great Britain. At the very least, the books do not mention any form of primary education and Hogwarts seems to be Ron’s first school. But Hogwarts still requires its students to be able to read, write and do math. Having some education about the Wizarding World couldn’t hurt, either.

However, someone has to teach the kids. And this someone is probably Molly, because Arthur is at work, and they don’t have the money for a private tutor. They cant sent their kids to an elementary school, because there is none. (And they obviously did not send them to a muggle school.) 

So this is her third job. This is another job she can’t really speed up with magic, because she can’t hex the knowledge into her kids’ brains. (Or at least I hope she can’t, because everything else would be disturbing.)

This means Molly has to take care of their home, produce their food, take care of their kids and teach them elementary school-stuff. All while being pregnant and/or nursing for circa 13 years straight.

Her workload just isn’t doable for a single person. It might have started off okay, when she only had Bill and Charlie, and it probably got better once most kids had left the house to study at Hogwarts. But the years in between must have been hell. And she did not really have any help to do it.

Arthur was off to work most days and seems to spend quite a lot of time on his hobby. Additionally, he just doesn’t seem to be all that involved as a father and seems to take care mostly of the fun stuff. 

His parenting style is much more relaxed than Molly’s, too. He’s probably the parent the kids go to when they want to do something their mother would say no to. This, of course, makes parenting even harder for her, because she doesn’t just have to deal with the kids, but also with Arthur’s parenting decisions. There are no other adult family members around to help her, either. They also don’t have the money to hire help. (No wonder Molly dreamed of having her own slave house elf. It would have allowed her to drastically reduce her workload. It’s a really disgusting wish, but I understand where it comes from.)

This is where the family dynamics probably took their first severe hit: It’s very likely that Molly’s workload left her with more work than she was able to do consistently. Whether Arthur pulled his weight in that regard is questionable (and he was at work for most of the day anyway.) She also had no other adults to help her, so she probably offloaded her workload elsewhere: her kids.

Yes. I think it is very likely that the Weasleys parentified their kids, especially Bill, Charlie and Percy. We don’t see it with Bill and Charlie, probably because they had already left the house when Harry meets the family. Still, it’s a little weird that both of them went to live so far away from home. Yes, sure, exploring tombs in Egypt and taming dragons in Romania is fun and exciting in and off itself – but being so far away from home that mom can’t rope you into household chores and babysitting duty is probably a really nice bonus. It would also relax their familial relationships quite a bit, because moving away gives them control over when and how they want to engage. (And it’s probably easier to be the fun big brother to your younger siblings when you aren’t required to watch and control them every day.)

We do see it with Percy, however. He looks after and take responsibility for his younger siblings a lot, especially at Hogwarts. You can see it in the way he looks after Ginny and how he’s constantly at odds with Fred and George because they refuse to follow any rules.

Fuck, he still does this after the big row with his father. Yes, the letter he sends to Ron is pretty obnoxious, but he still wrote it. He did not need to. At that point he had cut all contact, after all. He clearly cared for his younger brother and wanted to look out for him, even if he did it in the most annoying way possible. It would be interesting to know whether he also wrote to Ginny or the twins or not.

Also, did I mention that the Weasleys have too many kids?

They have too many kids.

It’s a numbers game, really. The more kids you have, the more time you have to use for household chores (you need to clean more, wash more, cook more, etc.) You also have less time to spend time with each kid individually. This is especially true for quality time – so time that isn’t spent on chores or education. Time that is spent playing and talking with each other, just to enjoy each other's company.

Molly is already working three jobs. She doesn’t really have any opportunity to spend time with her kids equally. She’s too busy looking after the home and teaching the older ones, while watching the younger ones and making sure the twins don’t burn the house down. 

I just don’t see her spending quality time with her kids regularly, because of this. It’s just difficult to talk with Charlie about his favorite dragons or read something to Percy or to play with Ron, when there is always someone else who needs her more. Full diapers. Empty stomachs. Unyielding stains of unknown origin on Arthur's work robes. A sudden explosion on the second floor. And probably everything at the same time and all the time.

So yeah. Chances are that her attention and her affection can be pretty hard to come by at times. (To a certain degree, this also applies to Arthur, because he is away from home so much.)

Let’s look at the timeline.

It probably starts pretty harmless:

1970 - Bill is born, and he’s the only kid for two years. Yeah, it’s Molly’s first child, and she is a really young mother, but she is a stay-at-home-mum, and it’s just one kid. It’s mostly her and Bill who are at home, and her workload isn’t all that big, because she can use magic for most stuff. The war has started, but it probably hasn’t kicked into overdrive just yet, so this shouldn’t affect her too much either.

1972 – Charlie is born. Molly’s workload is expanding, but things should still be pretty manageable. Also, they don’t have another kid for almost four years. This allows Molly to adjust to caring for two kids. She can also relax from both pregnancies and births. If it wasn’t for the war, this might be her favorite years as a mother.

When Arthur is involved in parenting Bill and Charlie, it’s probably on the weekends. I can imagine him taking them out to do fun stuff, so their mother can get some rest. It’s probably a great time for him, because he can bond with his boys. I can’t see him do much more than that, though. Molly has a handle on things, and interfering could be seen as overstepping.

1976 – Percy is born. This is probably the moment, where the attention-distribution in the family gets a little bit wonky. Molly has three kids now, and it’s the middle of the war. Bill is almost six, which means that she has to start teaching him, while simultaneously nursing Percy and keeping Charlie entertained/away from trouble. This is probably still manageable. She can wait a little longer with teaching Bill, so she can teach him and Charlie together. She can also hand him (and maybe Charlie) over to Arthur, so he can teach him/them on weekends.

Additionally, Arthur is probably still taking Bill and Charlie out for some bonding-fun-time. However, the war is in full swing now, so leaving the house gets increasingly dangerous. Their trips will get shorter and stay closer to home. They will happen less frequently, too. He will also end up working more because of the war, doing overtime much more frequently. When he is home, he is going to be exhausted, as a result.

1978 – Fred and George are born. The attention-distribution in the family falls off a cliff.

This is when Molly's workload starts to become overwhelming. Charlie will be 6 at the end of the year, Bill will be 8. She has to start teaching them, if she hasn’t already. Otherwise, Bill will not be ready when he starts Hogwarts.

And on top of everything, Molly has to take care of the twins. She has to do everything that needs to be done for a newborn – times two.

So her workload explodes. Molly is raising five kids, now. She needs to educate Bill and Charlie, nurse Fred and George, and has to make sure Percy doesn’t fall to the wayside completely. She also has her household chores that aren’t related to her kids. The war is still raging on. Arthur is probably tied up at work most of the time, and when he is home, he’s exhausted. And Molly will be pregnant again in a year. (Really, why do they have so many kids during a war? One or two, I would understand, but this is getting irresponsible.)

This is probably the time when Bill has to take over at least some chores, not just to learn how to do them, but to take some pressure off of his mother. This might not be parentification yet, but it will get worse over time. I assume he has to look after his younger brothers a lot.

On top of all that, it is increasingly hard to shield the kids from the war. At least Bill and Charlie are old enough to understand that things are really, really wrong and scary. And there is not much Molly can do about it.

1980 - Ron is born. The twins are already old enough to open cupboards. Molly is not having a great time. She probably hands over Percy to Bill and Charlie (“Go, play with your little brother!”), so she can take care of baby Ron while keeping an eye on the twin shaped chaos that is growing by the day. She will be pregnant again in a couple of months.

Bill (who will be 10 at the end of the year) and Charlie (8) still require teaching. Percy (4) isn’t old enough just yet, but he will be, soon. (And, let’s face it: It’s Percy. Chances are that he wants to learn, even now.)

The war is still in full swing. Arthur is still overworked and underpaid. Everyone is tired and scared. This also affects the kids. There is probably a lot of pressure on Bill as the oldest brother to watch over his younger siblings, to make sure all of them stay safe. They don’t spend much time outside their home, because it’s just too dangerous to do so.

Around 1980/81 is also the time when Molly’s brothers Fabian and Gideon die. (Gideon can be seen in the photograph that was taken of the Order before James and Lily went into hiding, so he was still alive back then. But we know that he dies soon after the photograph was taken.) Molly never talks about her brothers in canon, but this must have been horrible for her.

1981 – Ginny is born. They are seven kids now. Fabian and Gideon will be dead by the end of the year (if they aren’t already.) Molly’s workload is at its peak, while her ability to pay equal amounts of attention to her kids is at an all-time low. She’s grieving, the rest of her family is in danger, and Arthur is stuck at the ministry. This means that she will likely lean on Bill’s support even more. As Charlie is 8 now (and will be 9 at the end of the year), Molly might consider him old enough to help, so he might see an increase in responsibility, too. At this point, we are in parentification-territory.

With each day, the twins grow more into the troublemakers we see in canon. This sucks away attention and affection from their siblings (simply because they need to be watched and disciplined).

I think the following years are very formative for the family dynamics between the kids. It’s probably less pronounced for Bill and Charlie (who are stuck with chores and babysitting-duty and will leave for Hogwarts soon-ish) and Ginny (who gets more attention because she is the youngest child and only girl). It’s worse for the others. Percy, Fred, George and Ron are basically in direct competition for their mother's attention. I think the dynamic develops as follows:

Fred and George are active and pretty extroverted. They explore a lot and start to play pranks on their family members. This is overall harmless, but Molly has to pay attention to them, to make sure that no one accidentally gets hurt. From this, the twins learn that they can get Molly’s attention by causing trouble, so they will lean into it even more.

This sucks away attention from Percy and Ron. It causes Percy to veer hard into the opposite direction: He tries to gain Molly’s attention by following all her rules and fulfilling her wishes. This earns him her affection and will turn him into her golden child in the long run. It will also put a strain on his relationship with the twins, because Molly compares them a lot, especially when angry. This will cause Percy to perform the “Good boy”-role even harder (because he doesn’t want to be treated like the twins), while they start to resent him on some level.

Ron on the other hand is still too young to affect the family dynamic on his own. He internalizes that his mother cares more about his siblings and that there is nothing he can do about it.

The only good news: At the end of the year, the war ends. This will bring a lot of relief. (It’s short term relief for now, things will need some time to go back to normal.)

However, the end of the war also means, that Percy gets a pet. Either late in 1981 or early in 1982 he (or another member of the family) finds a rat that is missing a finger on its front paw. Percy keeps him and calls him Scabbers.

We all know who Scabbers is, of course. I just want to highlight how fucked up this situation is. Percy is 5, when he adopts him. Because he was a little kid, he probably took him everywhere without a second thought – into the bathroom, into his bed, you know, everywhere. There is probably no part of Percy’s body Scabbers hasn’t seen. Percy probably told him everything, too, all his worries, all of his fears. It’s just creepy.

And keep in mind, Scabbers – Peter – is not just a random wizard. He is a Death Eater and mass murderer. We don’t know if he ever hurt Percy (there are fanfics that do explore that possibility). He probably didn’t, but the idea alone is nightmare fuel.

To get this back on track: This could have impacted the sibling-relationship, too. It depends on whether the other kids were allowed to keep pets.

With that, we are done with the war and with Molly’s time being pregnant. The family dynamic is already fucked up – and it will get worse, as the kids get older. However, this post is long enough, already. So we’ll take a break here. Next time, we will look at how the dynamics shift, once the kids start to go to Hogwarts. See ya!

[inkdrinkerworld]

hi fawn! i've recently started smoking [bad ik, but just occasionally] and i had a thought about sirius finding the reader smoking and what his reaction would be to it! especially if the reader hates smelling like smoke and has to go shower/change their clothes directly after smoking hehe, thanks sm <3

"I thought I'd find you here," Sirius finds you at the back of your house, tending to your garden with a cigarette hanging from your mouth.

It's a new habit that had been a long time coming- you're an easily stressed individual but smoking had been a thing only for nights out. Now, you'd smoked three cigarettes over three weeks when you were sober but stressed.

"Sorry about the smoke," you say around the cigarette, blowing the smoke out with the wind away from Sirius.

Your boyfriend plucks the half smoked cigarette from your lips and slots it between his own. "Hard day?" Sirius can tell it has been besides the smoke- you're weeding and your knees are all smudged up.

"Yeah, everyone was just assholes." you take the cigarette back, take a drag and offer it to Sirius who declines. You rub the lit end into the wood of your grow box and stuff the butt in your garden overalls.

Sirius smiles, "Does that mean we're having steak for dinner or soup?" with the winter months coming in, you'd been more obsessed with soups than usual. Sirius doesn't mind, he's a master at soup making.

"Oh wanton soup, please Siri." You press a kiss to his cheek. "Can I love on you after I change? The smell is driving me crazy."

Sirius laughs then, turning your face back to him and stealing three kisses in quick succession. "You're so strange poppet," you know what he means and you tend to agree.

You're not sure how you developed the habit where it made you smell like something you hated, but it had grown and now you were smoking a single cigarette a week and showering after every single smoke.

"And yet you love me." Sirius nods, grey eyes a clear sky.

"I do indeed," he slots his fingers between your own. "Let's go have a soak, angel girl and then I'll start on the soup."

[livelaughlovesubs]

Make me your god, I can give you everything~

Wuwa boys + hierophilia!! Plot: they worship dom!gn!reader as their god

Warning: hierophilia, blowjob (implied), hair pulling, clothes sniffing (implied), dacryphilia

Nini!rant: I hope I included all of them? Also I’ll not write for yuanwu cuz I have absolutely no clue what his character is like, and lingyang bc he looks and acts childish. Anyway, I’m not up to date with the game, so the character’s personalities might be a bit off :(

Aalto

- He’d be the puppy kind, a very smart himbo (?)

- a loyal follower of yours, believes you are a being above since you are so graceful and divine

- you could do no wrong, and he’d believe your every word, he’s bound to your voice

- obeys everything like a good servant, even though he’d be a bit cheeky just for the sake of it

- he likes doing stuff that involves personal stuff of yours, like doing the laundry, cleaning your chambers

- should you trust him with your stuff? Well he definitely won’t steal it but maybe sometime else?

- “want me to do this? Oh, lord…! Well, anything for my deity~”

- could be a little demanding at times, begging and asking for a reward if he did something well (or thinks he did)

- “god, please give me some of your blessings?”

- overall a fun good boy

Chalcharo

- he is loyal, like really loyal, and faithful

- so loyal that it gets annoying at times, always wanting the best for you

- would have a hunch of overprotectiveness too, thinking he did well taking care of the dirty work for you

- in other words instead of waiting for a command, doing things by his own initiative

- he likes staying by your side and protecting you, if there’s not much to do he’d stare at you, thinking he’s sneaky when he isn’t

- wouldn’t voice it but wants you to praise him and show him your full attention afterwards

- tell him he’s a good boy and your most trusted follower and he’d be seeing the gates of paradise

- if he didn’t actually help he wouldn’t know and still expect that, so it’s up to you whether to punish him or not

- if you allowed him to, he’d love to lay his head on your lap or straddle you (he’d never admit)

- “I worship you, my lord, the dearest, please let me be useful to you.”

Jiyan

- pretty similar to chalcharo? BUT more shy, he blushes so sweetly whenever you compliment him, or touch him

- he’d flinch all surprised and embarrassed too

- a veeeery good boy, sometimes does things by himself but mostly waits for your order

- since he’s so cute, he’s very fun to tease, leading to him being red faced all the time

- but he doesn’t mind, he liked the feeling to being loved by you, a divine presence, to shower in your attention (who doesn’t?)

- headcanon that he’d enjoy taking care of the flowers around the house/ church/ wherever this is taking place

- you think he looks very cute a tad messy and sweaty after tending to the garden

- you once stroked his hair while whispering something about wanting a drink, so he suddenly got up to get you one

- but bc you were still holding his hair you accidentally yanked on it

- it felt so good he moaned, “ah-ahhnnggg~” now he has dirty fantasies about it almost every night

Mortefi

- take jiyans embarrassment and multiply it by three, that’s how he feels when he’s showing his devotion to you

- not because he thinks the act itself is humiliating, but that he’s not doing enough

- nevertheless doesn’t want to trouble you, since that’d be beyond him, so he always brushes it off

- he’s content with reading the holy books and scrolls in your presence, and knowing you gift him with the occasional glances

- sometimes he gets so engulfed in reading you really just want to tease fuck him from behind

- if you did do it… he’s so honoured..! And so, so lucky! But he wouldn’t be able to look you in the eyes for a while

- wants to do so much more but again, wouldn’t tell, you’ll need to reach out to him

- it’s your judgement whether or not he deserved your care, he will try to gain it, but not expect it

- would deny wanting anything physical at first, but melt the moment you touch him, even if it’s through gloves

- “f-forgive me lord, for being greedy.”

Rover

- sweetest and most diligent follower ever

- way more bold and direct than the others, would seek you out when he wants your attention

- and that’s like, always, so expect him to be clingy

- mostly quiet, just gently appreciating you caressing him in any way

- he liked putting his head on your lap the most, second only to more intimate stuff

- a little like a lap dog? His duty is to entertain you, if they are all members of some church for example he’d be a rookie

- anyone would be jealous that a newcomer gets to spend so much time with you…! And he’s so smug about it too

- smiles a lot! Really warms you up! Makes you want to make him cry as well-

- seeing that soft and tender face of his twisted into a writhing one as he cries out, “m-more!! Don’t s-stop.. my lord” must be pretty great

Scar

- so bold it’s unreal, he’d barge into your room whenever which would be seen as disrespectful but he’d also get on his knees immediately and pray to you

- beg you for your affection, he’s soooo needy with his god

- also definitely tries to seduce you, and if he was doing that with anyone else he would have been kicked out

- you seemed to find it fun so that’s why he kept his position

- many think you are too lenient with him, and too benevolent considering how cheeky he is

- demanding attention, skipping chores to wag his tail around you, touching you all comfortably as if you allowed him so

- it’s like he’s trying to get laid by his deity

- the only one who’d be daring enough to be sarcastic with you, and bratty

- just fuck him stupid maybe then he’d learn how to behave

- “ah, hnNghh~ l-lord, so rough..! GentleEEeeeKKK!!”

Geshu lin

- actually the only one who’s somewhat on equal standing with you? Or rather, he acts normal with you in comparison to the others

- converses with you, plays traditional games, many would agree that he seems a bit like your right hand man

- but to you? You see him as just as desperate as the others

- there’s no way to hide those eyes full of worship and yearning, and admiration

- gets so jealous when you spend too much time with the others, he’s the worst one, and it shows in his actions

- cuz then he’d be more demanding, louder too

- wouldn’t expect you to touch him or anything, and thinks it’s too disrespectful to touch you without asking, so he’d be shameless enough to straight up ask

- even if it’s some lewd places, places that are otherwise forbidden to these loyal pups of yours

- he still has his needs after all, whenever he first sees you he’d get on his knees and give you his greetings

- “good morning my lord, may I use my mouth to express my love and adoration?”

[minhosimthings]

Gods and Monsters

Symphony Smut Series Day 1: Lana del Rey's God's and Monsters

Lyric: In the land of gods and monsters, I was an angel, looking to get fucked hard.

Pairings: Cupid!Minho × fem!angel of heaven, includes Yuna from Itzy in a scene

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), loss of virginity (reader), overstimulation, p in v, slight breeding kink, corruption kink, possesion kink, hair pulling, use of kitten and angel, Minho cumming in reader

A/N: alright, first day! I am saur excited for this series so we're starting off strong with my husba- I mean my bias Minho! This was heavily inspired by his WKorea photoshoot.

THE SYMPHONY SMUT SERIES MASTERLIST

Gods existed. And so did monsters. But monsters didn't have a particular description, in Minho's opinion.

There he was, an angel, with the brightest wings of them all, holding metal tipped arrows in his hand, shooting all those who he believed deserved love, or worse, rejected love.

And yet, sometimes Cupid falls in love too. High angel of God never mattered to him much. Why would it? When beautiful angels roam the gardens of Eden, stroking their frocks and picking berries and flowers all day.

You were one such beautiful angel.

The prettiest of them all, according to Minho.

"Minho has his eyes on you again Y/N." Yuna nudged your shoulder gently, accidentally making you drop the berries you had in your hand. You rolled your eyes and picked them up again, quickly throwing them into your basket.

"Let him. Why should I care?"

"He's a high ranking angel Y/n." Yuna mumbled, adjusting her skirt, "They say he serves God directly."

"Nobody has seen God Yuna." You smiled gently at her. Even though she was older than you, by a few years or so, she was always the more mischevious one, always keeping an eye out for spotting your admirers.

"He is handsome, but we all know I have probably zero chances with an angel like that."

"Suit yourself then." She huffed, her mystical eyes scouring the dirt below your feet for more berries.

"Why are we picking so many berries anyway?" You questioned, adjusting the basket on your hip. Yuna shrugged her shoulders and made a face which clearly screamed confusion.

"I've hear a rumour though." Yuna whispered excitedly to you, toying with a mulberry leaf she has accidentally plucked, "Apparently Minho needs them for his monthly ritual tonight."

"The ritual?" You asked, "The one where he..."

"Takes an angel for his own, yes." Yuna completed your sentence, removing a thorn stuck in her wickerwork basket, "Apparently if he falls in love with any of them, he shall be promoted to a higher position, one where he can actually see God."

"But that hasn't happened yet has it?" You chuckled, the scent of honeydew plantations tickling your nose, as you saw some angels tending to them with their bare hands all pricked with thorns, "He's a Cupid. Cupids can't fall in love. Even though, I admit, he is dashing."

"Angels, may I have a moment of your time?"

A cold voice sounded like a gong behind your ear drums as you spun around (your skirt spinning with you), to face a cat-like face with bunny teeth.

"Minho." Yuna perked up, brushing her hair out of her face. Gosh, she really did like him. Like you, and every other angel in Heaven and Hell.

"How are you today?" " Fine as ever, Yuna." His tone was condescending, a weird one to use for a casual conversation such as this one.

"Y/N." He bowed to you, the eclipses of his soft hair falling onto his face as he did. "Minho." You answered, the neckline of your frock falling down as you bowed, revealing your cleavage, which Minho tried hard not to stare at.

"You look beautiful today." He complemented, his white teeth on full display, "as always." His addition at the end made you blush.

Was he this nice to every pretty angel?

"I assume you ladies are picking these beautiful berries for my ritual tonight?" He bent over your basket, examining all the black and red berries stuffed into it.

"We are." You cleared your throat, noticing how close Minho was to your bosom, "aren't they delicious looking?"

"We'll see tonight." Minho toyed with a blackberry, "When I drink them up."

Something about his tone scared you, as Yuna bowed him out of the garden, leaving you, tucking your skirt in a little more secure, and looking at the berries all arranged neatly in your basket.

Unexpected things always happen to humans, as you had heard. But sometimes they can happen to angels too. They can happen to anyone really. They just need time.

"Y/N." Minho caressed your cheek gently. The smell of crushed blackberries filled the room, as a bowl of red berries lay beside you.

Being chosen by Minho, hearing your name fall from his lips like an ill forgotten name of a God was shocking, as Yuna nudged you forward to the stand. All the angels looked at you with pity, as if you were a lamb going off for slaughter.

But you hadn't expected him to treat you so kindly.

"My angel...." Minho whispered, tucking a stray hair back behind your ear. "Why me?" You whispered back, as he kissed your knuckles gently, his wings fluttering gently behind him, as he folded them into his back.

"Why not you?" He chuckled, looking at you with bedroom eyes. Reaching his hand behind you, he picked up a berry from the wooden bowl and held it in front of your mouth.

"Be a good angel and open for me." He imitated an opening mouth with his own, "ah there you go, good girl."

The cherry was sweet, running with juices as you tasted it in your mouth, it's bitterness not bothering you. Spitting the seed out quickly, you looked up meekly as Minho's naked figure.

His jaw, lined with heavy lust, his eyes darkened as the night, and his muscles throbbing into your skin. You were wearing a loose robe of reds and whites, a show of the corruption of the pure.

"Oh don't worry darling." Minho caressed your cheek again, his thighs rubbing against yours as he laid you back on the silk ridden bed, "You'll feel nothing but pleasure tonight." "Minho I-Im scared." You whimpered, unsure of what to do. What if he didn't fall in love with you? What if you became another wasted angel?

"Don't be." Minho chuckled, "A pretty angel like you shouldn't be."

You sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up robe. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now. He paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.

You leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.

"May I?" Minho asked gently, toying with your robe. You nodded your head in a weak attempt of saying yes. His face, mere inches from yours rendered you speechless again.

And with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. Minho pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.

he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.

“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.

His kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.

“oh, kitten, you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” His hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.

“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. He licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.

“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, kitten?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” And you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.

You were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. You were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. His arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.

“you did so well, angel.” Minho crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”

Minho's hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.

“you’re so fucking good for me, God.” Minho almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.

“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. Minho was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.

“You’re so fucking tight.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back.

“ahh,” you moaned, trying to tilt your hips so he stopped rutting against your clit, but he was too heavy for you to move beneath him. You could feel another orgasm brewing and you squeezed your eyes shut, your brain fogged. “M-minho” you cried, not knowing if you could keep going like this.

Minho's erratic hips never faulted, “shh,” he cooed unsteadily. “you can take it.” 

You shook your head back and forth and mewled in your throat. Minho tried to reassure you, “m’almost finished, kitten.”

As wild and deadly as he was in the battles of Heaven , he was just as primal in the bedroom. Thee softness of your skin felt heavenly against Minho's sore body and against his calloused hands. he slid a hand into your hair, his fist grasping tightly. “this is the last time. i promise.” His deep baritone sent you over the edge. you cried out loud, your legs squeezing against Minho's body, your body shaking as he pummeled you through another orgasm. 

You could barely hear the way he was grunting and moaning as you clenched down impossibly hard around him. “gah, fuck,” he groaned.

Minho spilled inside you, your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt him fill you once more that night. You weren’t even sure how he still had more to give at this point.

His thrusts turned slow but remained powerful when he bottomed out, hitting you as far back as he could. you gasped with every rut of his hips hitting yours. 

His seed leaked out around his cock as he rode out his orgasm. you weren’t sure you could go for another round, hoping Minho was true to his word and this actually was the last time.

His hand aimlessly stroked your hair. he pulled back to look at you, smiling at the sight of your flushed face and disheveled hair. “see. knew you could take it.” he kissed the tip of your nose, regretfully pulling out of you. you whined at the loss—you had got so used to the feeling of him inside you, it was almost painful for him to leave. he marveled at you as he sat back on his haunches, looking between your legs and watching his seed gush out of you. 

"You're mine now." Minho whispered into your ear, looking at your cum ridden tummy, "all mine for the eternity of heaven."

As if to seal a charm, Minho kissed you on your neck, wrapping your weak figure into his arms, and running his fingers through your hair to cradle you to sleep.

"My angel."

[captain-hawks]

Do you write for aizawa? If you do, can you do him and reader having a cool drink on the porch/balcony after a hot day

shouta aizawa x f!reader

c: 18+ only, pining, (un)requited crush, misunderstandings, masturbation, shower sex, oral sex, unprotected p in v, cockwarming, creampie

SPICY SLEEPOVER WEEKEND — HEAT WAVE EDITION

When you brightly offered to come help tend to the garden Shouta had unwittingly inherited with his new home—the bright, unruly annual blooms seemingly appearing out of nowhere between one day and the next across the tiring expanse of landscaping in his backyard—he hadn’t quite spent enough time thinking through exactly what he was signing himself up for. 

It’s enough of a battle in and of itself to ignore the insistent tug of attraction in his gut whenever you pop into his classroom with a coy wave on his way to your own, the way you playfully hip check him in the lunchroom and carelessly lean into his space whenever you’re sitting side by side.

It’s enough of a challenge that he somehow has to look you in the eyes each morning as you pass one another in UA’s hallways, to pretend like he wasn’t furiously fisting his throbbing, leaking cock to the thought of you the night before.

—despite the goddamn golden band nestled on your ring finger.

He wishes you’d give him some room to breathe, a pocket of air free from the soft, floral scent of your shampoo.

(It’s always fucking wafting somewhere in his periphery as you bound into his space, smiling and laughing and batting your eyes like you’re entirely unaware of the way his balls immediately clench at the sight of your pouty lips.)

If Shouta was a better man, he would have turned you down when you insisted on helping him after you overheard him groaning about the mess of flowers. He would have made up an excuse about having already secured assistance elsewhere, would have paid an exorbitant amount of money to drag some poor sod at a local landscaping company to get it all done immediately.

(Even if you have a plant Quirk that makes you more than a little qualified for the job.)

If he was a better man, there are a lot of things he’d probably do—like stop fucking jerking off to the thought of you, for starters.

But Shouta’s not the selfless hero some like to make him out to be, at least not where you’re concerned.

And he almost made it through the entire ordeal, even after getting over the initial shock of the ridiculous excuse for shorts that you arrived in—at what point did shorts become underwear?—brushing off his raised brow with a shrug and offhand comment about the hellish weather outside.

(It’s not that you were wrong—it was terribly hot out.)

(Hot enough that he’d begrudgingly put on a pair of shorts himself, even going so far as to stuff his messy black hair into some semblance of a bun if only to get it off of his neck beneath the harsh rays of sun beating down on the two of you.)

He’d even bitten his tongue when you shrugged off your t-shirt and continued working in a sports bra, studiously placing his focus on the vicious, thorny tangle of the rose bush in front of him, rather than the tantalizing swell of your breasts.

It’s when you’re seated side by side on the small couch on his back porch drinking cold glasses of orange juice that Shouta finally accepts defeat, silently wishing he’d just burst into flames as you accidentally gesture a bit too enthusiastically and send half of your glass sloshing all over his crotch.

He’s probably sure that you don’t think twice about it, the way you immediately reach for the towel you’d been wiping off your forehead with to dab up the mess.

There’s absolutely, certainly nothing intentional about the way you unknowingly press down right on the outline of his rapidly hardening cock, letting the orange juice transfer from his shorts to the towel.

It can't be.

But he fucking blurts it out anyway, a little more roughly than he means to—

“Shouldn’t you get home to your husband?”

You pause, eyes going a little wide as you seemingly realize that you’re basically halfway to giving him a handjob, and you slowly raise your head, gazing up at him.

Then you look down at your hand, the one that stupid ring is usually on, the one that’s oddly bare at the moment.

And you fucking laugh.

You throw your head back and laugh until you’re nearly crying, and Shouta feels like he’s going to be sick. Maybe.

“I’m not married,” you tell him between the fit of giggles that continues to rack through you.

He stares at you, blinking.

“Or engaged,” you continue.

He still stares, and his dick is still embarrassingly hard.

“I’m single,” you tack on, just for good measure.

“What?” he asks, voice hoarse.

You waggle the hand that the ring is usually on in front of him. “I used to teach at a university before I transferred to UA, and I got tired of profs and students making passes at me. It just became a habit to keep putting it on every day.” 

“So you…” he trails off, a little dumbfounded with the neon-bright clarity that’s currently ricocheting through his stupid brain.

“Yeah,” you finish for him, understanding his train of thought and looking a bit sheepish. “I figured you weren’t interested, and I was ready to throw in the towel after today, honestly.”

At the mention of the word “towel,” both of you glance down, Shouta pinching the bridge of his nose at the little noise you let out when you finally see just how hard he is.

“Oh,” you say quietly, and he’s not quite sure if that’s a good or a bad thing—

(All of his doubts are quickly cast aside when you settle into his lap with the grace of a cat and card your fingers through his hair as he cups your face in his hands and kisses you until you’re both panting and gasping for air.)

(They’re basically forgotten by the time you’re gasping for him beneath the cool spray of the shower water, the sweat and dirt of the day swirling down the drain, your legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks you up against the slick tiles.)

(As you tell him how many nights you touched yourself to the thought of him while you suck his cock in the kitchen hours later.)

(He can only tired scrub a hand over his face and quietly laugh to himself as he wakes the next morning, his body curled around yours, his cock still nestled in the warmth of your cunt from the night before.)

(—and as much as he despises mornings on his days off, he knows, with sure certainty, that he’ll gladly rouse with the birds and the sun if it means he gets to hear your sleepy, needy moans as overnight cockwarming turns into morning sex while he fucks his cum back inside of you.)

[anakinsbunniee]

Ermm househusband!Nanami who always waits soo long for his partner to come home.

You're usually not that long at work, but to him, it still feels like an eternity. You knew that to spend his time usefully, he does simple stuff like cleaning some parts of the house, cooking, tending to your shared garden, or maybe even going outside with friends.

Today was another day where he just stayed at home, reading and doing a bit of paperwork, while baking a special treat for you for when you come back home.

“Good evening, hun! I made us some pie.” Kento calls out from the kitchen as soon as he heard the front door open and close. 

Since he has so much time on his hands now, he adores to always try out new recipes with you as his personal food tester.

“Thats amazing, Ken,” you call out as you take off your shoes and coat, walking over to the kitchen where he was already waiting. He was wearing one of those sweet aprons of yours that barely even fit him and already ripped at certain places.

He let out a huff once he noticed your gaze directed towards his chest, where the apron was already tearing a bit. He completely forgot to buy himself his own one.

“Can you just try the pie, please?” he mumbles, turning his head away for a second.

With a light chuckle, you kiss him on the cheek and grab a small piece of pie, holding it above your hand. Without further questions, you take a big bite, your body immediately shuddering at the immense peach flavour.

“And? How is it?” he asks inquisitively, looking at you with something that almost seemed like puppy eyes.

“Gosh, Ken, it's delicious. You know- you should write a cookery book with all these great recipes.” you reply, taking another bite.

A faint red colour fills his cheek as he watches you finish your piece. He didn't really mind getting compliments, but for something as simple as peach pie with a recipe he got from the internet?

If it's really this easy to impress you, he'll definitely try something like cherry or strawberry pie next.

[simmer-emsie]

Not So Berry Challenge 3

Couldn’t get enough of the original Not So Berry Legacy Challenge? Already played through Not So Berry Challenge 2? Wishing you could play a challenge with content from 2021 onward? If you’ve been daydreaming about an updated Not So Berry Challenge (2023), look no further!

Welcome to the Not So Berry Legacy Challenge 3, a ten generation rags-to-riches legacy challenge with colour-themed heirs. Note: This challenge requires basically every pack except My First Pet Stuff and Journey to Batuu (…y’all know why).

Thank you to @lilsimsie​ and @alwaysimming​ for the inspiration (and the rules!).

Basic rules:

Each heir must represent the colour of the generation (like hair, makeup, clothing), but brightly-coloured skin isn’t necessary.

The colours of the spouses don’t matter as they aren’t part of the challenge. Unless otherwise stated you can do whatever you please with them.

Cheats can be used, but not excessively.

You may live wherever you please unless something is specified in the rules of a generation.

Every generation is supposed to complete both the career and aspiration of the heir unless explicitly stated otherwise.

Keep the lifespan on Normal.

Generation One: Soil

Well, you’re on your own now and you haven’t got much to your name except a plot of land and a couple of chickens. That’s alright though; animals tend to understand you better than Sims, anyway. Living off the land is difficult work but you’re determined to cultivate a respectable farm with livestock, fruit trees, and even some oversized produce!

Traits: Animal Enthusiast, Socially Awkward, Music Lover

Aspiration: Country Caretaker

Career: None

Rules:

Complete the Country Caretaker aspiration.

Start on an empty lot in Henford-on-Bagley with 500 Simoleons. Hard mode: Start as a teen.

Max the cross-stitch and gardening skills.

Play using the Living Off the Land lot challenge.

Befriend Patchy the Straw Man.

Complete 5 requests for your neighbours.

Generation Two: Sprout

Your best buddy growing up was a farm animal, and now you want to give back to the creatures that meant so much to you. As a veterinarian, you meet a lot of people and make a lot of friends. You spend your free time volunteering and training the animals you bring home with you.

Traits: Cat Lover, Dog Lover, Outgoing

Aspiration: Slumber Party Animal (Child), Friend of the Animals

Career: Veterinarian

Rules:

Complete the Friend of the Animals aspiration.

Max the veterinarian and pet training skills.

Befriend one of your parent’s farm animals as a Child.

Adopt at least one cat and one dog.

Volunteer on weekends.

Generation 3: Blossom

So, your parent was really into animals. And maybe that was a little bit too internalized in you… because now you can’t stop thinking about embracing your primal side and becoming a Werewolf. You still need to pay the bills though, so you work as a Green Technician to protect your territory’s ecosystem. On the weekends, you and your pack go bowling.

Traits: Lactose Intolerant, Insider, Loyal

Aspiration: Werewolf Initiate, Emissary of the Collective OR Wildfang Renegade

Career: Civil Designer, Green Technician branch

Rules:

Complete 2 Werewolf aspirations.

Max the bowling and logic skills.

Become a Werewolf.

Find and marry your Fated Mate.

Go bowling every weekend.

Generation Four: Mist

Uhh… you okay? You were kind of raised by… literal Werewolves. The experience was kind of traumatic, and now you’re trying to live a normal life. You eat grilled cheese as a coping mechanism and as a teen, you start a side hustle so you can move out on your own ASAP. You go to university and get a completely normal job in the city. You struggle to trust someone enough to fall in love, especially after the whole… “Fated Mates” thing your parents had going on. You just really, really want something normal.

Traits: Overachiever, Paranoid, Perfectionist

Aspiration: Goal Oriented (Teen), Grilled Cheese

Career: Any side hustle or part-time job (Teen), Education

Rules:

Complete the Grilled Cheese aspiration.

Max the cooking, baking, and flower arranging skills.

If your Sim is given the option to graduate early, take it.

Get a degree.

After university, move to the city (San Myshuno, Del Sol Valley, or San Sequoia) and get a bonsai tree.

Marry someone with a secret (for example, is an Alien or a Criminal).

Generation Five: Lava

Things were kind of weird growing up, and now you’re healing from your childhood. If therapy was a thing, you’d so be there. But since it’s not, you dedicate yourself to journaling, wellness, and less socially-acceptable coping mechanisms. 

Traits: Erratic, High Maintenance, Party Animal

Aspiration: Drama Llama (Teen), Villainous Valentine (Adult), Inner Peace (Elder) 

Career: Culinary, Mixologist branch

Rules:

Complete the Villainous Valentine aspiration.

Max the mixology, wellness, and writing skills.

Have a negative relationship with your parents.

Have an affair with a celebrity.

Have a child with a married Sim.

Write a tell-all memoir book as an elder.

Generation Six: Ash

You had a fractured family life growing up, but one thing your parents told you about was your ancestor who started a magnificent farm. You want to start anew, just like they did. But, well, you’re kind of a city kid… so you only grow avocados. Also, you’re totally in-tune with the paranormal and commune with ghosts for work.

Traits: Bookworm, Childish, Unflirty

Aspiration: Playtime Captain (Child), Soulmate

Career: Freelancer, Paranormal Investigator branch

Rules:

Complete the Soulmate aspiration.

Max the medium and gardening skills.

Live in an apartment and grow avocados on the balcony.

Marry a Sim that you’ve brought back from the dead.

Generation Seven: River

If there were an award for weirdest upbringing, you’d probably get it. Seriously… one of your parents came back from the dead to have you! The fun doesn’t stop there though. You’re determined to keep having cool experiences and write about them for your whole life.

Traits: Bro, Good, Jealous

Aspiration: Mind and Body (Child), StrangerVille Mystery

Career: Drama Club (Child/Teen), Writer

Rules:

Complete the StrangerVille aspiration.

Max the writing and fitness skills.

Have a child with someone from StrangerVille.

Take your child on vacation at least once every life stage (infant, toddler, child, teen).

Chapter Eight: Ocean

As the heir to a wealthy writer, you’re used to having things handed to you, like jobs and vacations. Now that you’re old enough to make a name for yourself, you want to build your Trendi empire as a Simfluencer. You pick Sulani as the perfect place to make your mark; beautiful weather and beachfront property mean all your followers will be so jealous of you. You love the water more than anyone you know, until one day you see someone a little too far out to sea to be natural… 

Traits: Child of the Islands, Child of the Ocean, Mean

Aspiration: Admired Icon (Teen), Party Animal

Career: Trendi (Teen), Simfluencer

Rules:

Complete the Party Animal aspiration.

Max the entrepreneur and media production skills.

Live in Sulani and become a mermaid.

Sell an outfit on Trendi for 9,999 Simoleons.

Get 1,000,000 followers.

Generation 9: Sand

Your parent always encouraged you to do great things with your life… as long as what you want is to be an Interior Decorator. Your real passion is music and you practice whenever you can. You’ve always wanted to rebel against your parent, but never had it in you to actually do it.

Traits: Creative, Gloomy, Neat

Aspiration: Musical Genius

Career: Interior Decorator (Adult), Entertainment, Musician branch (Elder)

Rules:

Complete the Musical Genius aspiration.

Max the violin and guitar skills.

Have a Strict family dynamic with your parent (you may cheat for this).

Get a Fine Arts degree at university.

If your Sim experiences a midlife crisis, you must complete it.

Generation 10: Flame

As a little kid, your biggest goal in life was to one day become the best parent ever. Your own parent was sad a lot and you acted out because of it, but you want your own kid to have a happier home. You want to provide everything for your children with your own two hands. You like building on the woodworking bench and brewing herbalism concoctions.

Traits: Family-Oriented, Loves Outdoors, Maker

Aspiration: Live Fast (Teen), Outdoor Enthusiast

Career: Culinary, Chef branch

Rules:

Complete the Outdoor Enthusiast aspiration.

Max the cooking, handiness, and herbalism skills.

Have at least three children, one of whom is adopted.

Go on family vacations to Granite Falls as much as possible.

Good luck and have fun!

[the-raindeer-king]

CoD Department Store idea au because I got bored at work and was trying to figure out where everyone would work lol

Laswell is obviously the store manager. She's strick but means well. And she's not afraid to get her hands dirty and help out around the store. Ends up being the best store manager you'll ever have.

Price is the assistant manager. Also isn't afraid to help pick up the slack. Looks scary (and he is sometimes) but he also cares about his associates. And he actively encourages you to take extra time on your break, after kicking out a customer for getting aggressive with you.

Gaz is customer service. He's witty and charming, and can calm down even the most irrate Karen's. He bitches to Price every time they have to bend over backwards for a customer. Takes extra time on his breaks though...

Soap works the housewares department! Whether it's loading a couch into a customer's car, or getting a coffee pot off the top shelf, he's your man! Just as charming as Gaz, but tends to have a short fuse and will snap at rude customers.

Ghost works in the back, unloading the trucks. It's far away from the view of the public, and it keeps him busy. He's been sent out to help customers with carry-outs, but he's awkward and a little unsettling. Definitely walks way too quiet for a man his size and has scared several associates and customers because of it!

Rudy and Alejandro work the deli/bakery department. They're sort of isolated from the rest of the store, and rely solely on their own team to get stuff done. But they'll also sneak you cookies and muffins, claiming to have made too much.

Alex gets hired in apparel. I'm thinking shoes and accessories specifically. Lowkey hates it and transfers to garden as soon as he can. Loves watering the plants every morning.

Farah works in the garden center. Has worked there for at least 3 years, and can practically run the whole department with her eyes closed. Sneaks out nubs of succulents to grow her own.

Gary worked in housewares with Soap. But transferred to overnight due to a personal scheduling conflict. Soap and Gaz like to joke that he's died, much to Gary's annoyance.

[penvisions]

by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 2}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: It goes without saying that your first overnight patrol in years happens to be with Joel Miller. But the conversation doesn't flow easily like it normally does, with your haywire emotions and his unintentional eavesdropping...

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, unrequited feelings, joel a little daft in this, reader is a little daft in this, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, reader snaps at joel, lots of feelings, slight angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, jealousy, three (3) instances of joel miller gently touching reader, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, protective joel, minor injuries, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: i just really got caught up in these two after work yesterday. i hope this chapter reads as well as the first one, i'm super nervous bc i want to keep it soft, but i did say there was slight angst in this! love y'all ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

You were minding your own business walking back from the mess hall when you caught wind of the conversation.

It was a hushed thing, between two people right outside of the turn for the main street. Two women standing close to each other. You had been passing them by when your ears caught your nickname. And then your real one.

“Olive? What kind of grown woman willingly goes by such a silly nickname.” One quiet voice uttered.

“Tommy Miller gave it to her, on account of the trees in her backyard. Surprised she even knows what to do with them.” Another one, both of them faintly familiar. While Jackson was small, only a few hundred people, it was easy to recognize them. They were the ones you often heard while helping out with the gardens, offering trade with the owners as you all shared the spoils of your own personal ones tended to in backyards.

You knew you were intent on pulling your own weight to support and protect the town. Having been grateful for stumbling across the safe haven it provided all those years ago now. Partaking in the patrol rotation and helping out with anything around the town. You had made a life here, one that you had always wanted to try and salvage from the wreckage of the world.

But that didn’t stop people from being people. Rumors and gossip spreading as quickly as the virus that forced the world into small communities like this one. You just happened to be the star in the most recent bout, it seems.

“Yeah, but she does bring them to the markets and trade, so she’s not all that daft.”

“She’s going on the overnight patrol. With Joel Miller.” A whispered reveal, as if it was a death sentence, something that couldn’t be spoken at a regular volume lest it manifest into something.

“Hopefully she doesn’t get-“

“He’s so much more capable, they already saddle him with her for two of his mornings shifts.”

“And now they’re putting her with him for one of the most important ones, what are they thinking.”

“She’s a dear, truly, but she’s going to lose it. Just like she did all those years ago.”

“If she’s the only one that comes back…”

“Marsha, hush, you can’t speak that way. He’s capable enough for the both of them.”

Oh, they weren’t just talking about mundane stuff. They were talking about that. Your chest tightened as you realized they didn’t have any faith in your skills, in the risks you took every time you went beyond the gates to ensure their safety.

Turning back the way you came, not able to face walking past the two women huddled close together and talking so casually about the things that kept you up at night and made sleep hard to come by. You walked straight into a broad chest smelling far too familiar. Smelling like Joel. A grunt that sounded way too baritone and way too close sprung into the evening air at the contact much like your wheezing gasp.

“Woah there, sweetheart, where’s the fire?” Large hands skimmed over your back, arms encasing you, and making you feel a little light-headed, righting your balance as you began to waver from the sudden contact. Oh no, not that honeyed drawl, not that voice, not that tender nickname, not him, not now.

Your composure was already slipping, and you didn’t think you could hold on to what little you had left if he were to ask you if you were alright. The need, the want to answer his questions always winning out.

But you couldn’t, not this time.

“I-I’m fine, just forgot- something.”

“Hey.” And you stopped trying to step back. His hands came up from around your arms where he had grabbed you, cradling your face and tilting you to look at him. His features were softened, the wrinkles beside his eyes and in his forehead creased as he looked you over, making sure you were okay. But you weren’t and you didn’t want him to know. Spurred on by the sound of two voices that had caused all this rounding onto the street, you ignored the fluttering of your heart, the way your breath had caught in your throat, the way he had been touching you and fled.

“See you to-tomorrow!” You managed to squeak out as you stepped away from him, avoiding looking at him directly, his arms falling back to his sides. You weren’t sure if he was trying to catch your eyes, not raising them past his chest as you walked around him. His gaze was heavy on you, following you as you took off down the street in a roundabout way to get back to the streets lined with houses.

“Tommy, please.” Your voice was small, an imitation of what it normally sounded like, and Joel stopped in his tracks. He had a bag of things for Maria, for his brother that he had wanted to drop off before retiring for the night. He tried to quiet his breathing, standing as still as a statue in the back part of the hallway of their house, your voice carrying in from the open sliding door that led out to the sunroom.

He had just run into you down by the shops, or more accurately you had run into him. Literally. His mind had blanked at the feel of your body against his own, the soft press of you up against his chest, the feel of your warm breath fanning over the skin of his neck. And not for the first time, he thought of how well you would fit into him. How well his body could wrap around yours.

He had noticed that while around town you were hesitant to let anyone so much as clap a hand over your shoulder. Aside from the children, whose hands you gladly held with kind smiles and whose arms you welcomed around your shoulders with laughter. Tommy and Maria being the only ones he had witnessed you embracing in quick hugs.

He was always so careful with you, not allowing for direct contact to linger. It always made his heart thunder in his ears, and he wasn’t sure if you were okay with it, the casual touching. You never shied away from him, from the skimming of his fingers against your own or the more recent indulgences he had given into with the touch of his hand or the touch of his lips to minor injuries. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it delighted him to see the way your lashes fluttered and the feel of your breath hitching. He was a man after all, and he was one who was a fool for the jittery feelings you stirred in him. Even if he worried for them at the same time.

“Olive, you can’t let their words get to you.” His brother’s voice was calm, assuring you of the worries you shared with the man.

“But they’re right, Tommy!” Your voice rose to the highest volume Joel had ever heard and then wavered to nothing. More hiccups and sniffling sounding through the door. A particularly harsh hiccup sounded, startling him as he realized you were crying. Chest tight, Joel couldn’t even picture it. The thought of tears running down your upset face steeled his heart. He clenched his hands tight over the handle of the bag in his grip as he heard the shuffle of movement. He couldn’t see through the glass for the curtain fluttering in the evening breeze.

Joel was turning on his heel as your sniffles grew into sobs, moving as quietly as he could back through the house. He set the bag atop the kitchen counter and closed the front door behind him as gently as he could to not garner your or his brother’s attention. He had already heard more than he had meant to, the sound of your distressed voice beckoning him to you as he felt the need to console you. To make whatever it was better.

He knew you had been acting off earlier, just moments ago. From your wild eyes to the way you had been so distracted, the stutter to your voice.

But you were a private person, indulging him in his silly, earnest questions while out on patrol. But this?

This was something you definitely would not someone overhearing, and he respected that. He knew all too well the things people kept to themselves, things that were never exposed to the light of day, spoke of in front of others. And he didn’t want to betray the trust you seemed to have in him by hiding behind a curtain while you fell apart in front of someone who already knew of your struggles and ghosts.

He only hoped that one day…you would feel safe enough and comfortable enough with him to help you shoulder their weight. Because he knew not every patrol went smoothly, how could they, when the whole point of them was to keep up with any possible threats.

Once back in his own home, he found Ellie fast asleep on the couch with a movie playing on the modest television and a sketchbook dangling from her fingers. He removed his boots and then his coat, catching a whiff of the scent of you on his clothing. Light, slightly floral, sweet. You must’ve been tending to the garden he knew you kept in your yard earlier that day. Or baking something like you were apt to do.

With a sigh, he turned off the movie and closed the sketchbook to set it atop the table in front of the couch before moving into the kitchen. The slice of pie you had given him the other day was somehow still in the container you had fumbled for. Ellie must’ve known it was from you because she hadn’t said anything or tried to steal it. Knowing Joel liked to enjoy the treats you shared with him in the evenings with a cup of coffee.

So, he did, as he sat in his work room and began to sketch out some simple designs. He would fill your whole kitchen with whatever you wanted if it meant he would never have to encounter your tears again.

“They- they said I’m going to get him killed, that I shouldn’t even be on the no-normal patrol rotation.”

“It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.” Tommy tried to console you, taking in the situation and your words a best he could. But you had rushed through them, explaining in bits and pieces. You were emotionally charged, worked up, and nearly trembling. You thought you had worked through this, at least enough to be okay on the day-to-day front. But those two women, Marsha and her friend, had taken you back to the wave of everything as if it had just happened.

You were scared. Because they were right, you were dangerous. There was the very real possibility that you could cause harm to Joel, and you didn’t even want to begin to entertain thoughts like that. He…he was good and you didn’t want to be the cause of the man’s downfall. A promise to his brother to fill a spot on patrol spiraling into the current situation and it hadn’t even happened yet. It was supposed to, first thing in the morning.

“No, it’s not, Tommy. Everyone in town thinks I’m going to get him killed. That I got Aiden killed.” The name was foreign falling from your lips after not speaking it for so long. It was something you hadn’t been able to do since that patrol so many years ago now. “I ca-can’t stomach the thought of him getting injured because of me, because I’m not good enough to protect him. He does so much more for this town, he’s important. He deserves someone alongside him that will be a help not a hindrance.”

“You listen to me, and you hear me,” Tommy’s voice was firm, wide eyes focused and mouth a thin line as he spoke to you. Soft undercurrents of assurance in his tone. And you knew what he was about to say. It was always the same thing, the same sentiment, reassurance that it hadn’t been your fault. It had just been the circumstances, the world operating as it tended to do now. Unfairly. “Honey, it wasn’t your fault that those people found you. You cover your tracks well, hey, you do, okay?”

“I had been so focused on him, I didn’t, Tommy I didn’t hear them come up on us. Not their horses, not their footsteps, I didn’t even hear the gunshot until he was falling over.” Footsteps on the wooden floor thudding as you pacing back and forth, arms crossed over your chest and shaking your head in the way that you did when the thoughts got too overwhelming.

“But it wasn’t your fault. It was a messy situation, they happen. Hey, honey, they happen even to the best of us.” Tommy reached for you, standing from the chair he had taken beside you when you arrived in a flurry. Ushering you to the sun room at the back of the first floor, furthest away from the main bedroom upstairs. Maria had been in bed all day, not feeling well and had finally found the peace of sleep after an early dinner. His arms were wrapping around you and you allowed him to pull you into his chest, face pressing into his sweater.

“I should’ve been looking! I should have been more aware…”

“Shh, it’s okay, the patrol is going to go okay.” He rested his chin on the crown of your head and felt your hands tangle in the front of his clothing. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“You, ah, you…been okay?” Joel tried to break the uncharacteristically tense silence in an easy move, with a relatively harmless question. He had been up all night, wondering and worrying about this being the first longer route with you. Not that he didn’t trust in your skills and ability, but that he didn’t trust in the secrecy around why you didn’t do the longer routes. Of the things he overheard in his brother’s house just last night. Tommy had claimed that if he was to know, it had to come from you. That it wasn’t the younger man’s story to tell and Joel was trying to respect that.

And if that hadn’t sent alarm bells to rumble low in his mind, then your behavior this morning would’ve.

You hadn’t been at your house when he went to pick you up, the windows dark and the door locked. He had knocked, thinking maybe you had overslept. He had found you at the stables, cursing at the clasps of the saddle that weren’t cooperating with your ministrations to secure them. The way that you jumped when he cleared his throat and greeted you, wide eyes settling on him and body tense as if having expected someone else. Someone you had to protect yourself against, if the hand flying to your holstered gun was any indication.

Definitely concerning.

The sound of twin sets of hooves the only sound for the last fifteen miles or so. You had been content, or as well as could be considering the circumstances, beside him. Wide-brimmed hat drawn low to shadow over most of your face, body on a constant swivel as you took in the new to you surroundings. The landscape covered in autumnal tones. It was beautiful, the warm reds, oranges, and yellows of the changing trees. But it was also deadly, threats hidden within the lush tree line, just over the rolling hills, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

“Been okay.” Was your short answer, not feeling like you knew how to hold a causal conversation anymore. Not since seeing the man’s craft had cropped up in his brother’s home and the way in which he had denied your part in the idea. That paired with the anxiety of being so far out from the settlement wasn’t sitting well. “You been okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Just busy, you know?”

“You hardly ever take a moment, see you and hear talk of you bouncing around so much. Everyone must really appreciate you willing to help. The skills you have, they mean so much. They allow us a better chance to not just survive, but to live.” You wished he could see it, the way children would stare transfixed as him and Tommy led a team of people through creating things the way that they did. From foundations to frames, tiling roofs and securing windows into place. It meant growth, the ability to rebuild, it meant anticipation of the future beyond just a few days. And he helped to provide that for the settlement with the use of his hands and the skills comprised in his head.

He only hummed in response, as if he was disbelieving of the sentiment behind your words.

And then, of course:

“Is…is there a reason why you don’t do the overnight routes?” It was a cautious one, though you could hear the undertones of concerns that coated his polite curiosity. And undercurrent of worry in his beautiful eyes that had turned amber in the sunlight you caught sight of with a quick glance when he had continued to speak.

But his question was ill timed, everything too raw in you to indulge in it at the moment.

“Joel, that’s none of your business.” You felt the easy smile fade from your face as you turned away from the man. You ignored the inclination to face him, feeling the weight of his eyes watch the way you squared your shoulders. Searching for signs of something you weren’t quite sure of. You were always willing to chat with him, about everyday stuff and the heavier stuff should one of you need to vent or rant. Never talking about it back inside the walls and surrounded by the people you went out to protect. But this?

You couldn’t. It was too much, and you know your voice had turned hard, sharp.

“Shit, I’m sorry- we just, normally you’re okay with my questions. I didn’t mean to overstep a line.”

“Well, you did. Just drop it, okay?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t-“

“I get it, just, stop please.” Snapping the reigns, you clicked your tongue to get Lowry to pick up the pace of her hooves. Moving ahead, following the path that was slowly coming back to you as the event you tried to block cropped up in your mind piece by piece.

“Okay.”

It was easy, comfortable to be beside him even in uncharted territory and land new to you after so many years. Because despite the rough start to the day, having reached the proverbial fork in the road that would take you farther from Jackson you had been in so long, it was easy to feel like things might just be okay with him mounted on his own horse ahead of you.

Even despite his rather invasive question.

You felt bad for snapping at him, for being too caught up in your own mind to enjoy the time beside him.

He was always so busy around town, but out here on patrol; he was yours.

His attention not being pulled in endless directions of so many who looked to him for help and advice, for his opinion on something or other. He was so willing to take the time and fix, mend, build, repair, anything that people called on him for. He had just been trying to do the same here, now. Ensuring you were okay. Because you knew your behavior wasn’t normal. You had jumped when seeing him this morning in the stables. You hadn’t taken the offered thermos, not wanting the caffeine to make you even more jittery paired with your anxiety and nervousness. And it was silly because you knew he meant well.

He couldn’t have known the question was a landmine.

He couldn’t have known it was the one, seemingly simple question that you were unable to answer him.

He had fallen quiet since you asked him to drop it. And you felt bad. There was tension about him, in his broad shoulders and the grip of his hands on the reigns in front of him. His legs shifting more than normal as the muscles tensed and relaxed in a pattern you couldn’t quite make out. You had bothered him, with your sharp words. And you worried that you had broken some part of what this was.

“Hey, Joel?”

A huff.

“Did you finish all the coffee?”

“No, got your thermos right here.” He patted the bag attached to the saddle. You couldn’t have known he meant that it was truly your thermos. Always nestled between his own and Ellie’s, in the cabinet, in the drying rack next to the sink. Yours, and not just while on patrols.

“May I please have it?” Nerves alight, you chanced a glance. He had to have been lost in his own head, his eyes coming back to the present slowly as he cast them toward you.

“Only because you asked so nicely, sweetheart.” He leaned down to retrieve it, holding it out to you. You were careful not to brush your fingers against his own. Thinking that maybe he hadn’t been too comfortable with the casual touching that seemed to have grown in occurrence, even if he had called on you and pressed his lips to your wounded head. Undeserving of the attention he had deigned to give you, you didn’t want him to think you were doing it on purpose. Trying to impinge on his personal space in such an intimate way.

“You-your from Texas, right?” Of course you were stuttering, nervous to interact with him, to try and bridge the divide you had caused. But you still tried, not wanting to lose the dynamic you two shared, even if you had been in your head. Even if you had no intention of physical contact, you still yearned for the easy conversations you two shared.

“Right.”

“Did you see a big change between the seasons?”

He seemed to deflate, the tension in his body ebbing just as the quick beat of your heart did as he turned to look at you for the first time in hours. Calming, reacting to each other, softening in the wake of what had happened.

The village was just as you remembered, as the horses came up on a hill looking over it. It was small, a collection of long abandoned houses and businesses on the cusp of the national park that once boasted large crowds and endless visitors who came to enjoy the views. The mountains surrounding it were breathtaking, covered in the changes of the season. Looking for all the world a quaint little getaway.

Another hour and you found yourself working silently beside Joel to clear the buildings, searching for anything that could be of use for the town, for its inhabitants.

Another hour and you found yourself stood in the kitchen of a small house, rustling through the cabinets in search of whatever may be hidden within them. With a delighted hum, your fingers wrapped around the soft casing of canvas and you pulled it out from within the depths of the one you had crouched down to inspect. Joel’s jacket hushed as he turned to you at the sound, his eyes watching, ever vigilant and ready to strike sound something be wrong.

But nothing was wrong, you leaned back on your heels as you pulled the object out into the light of your flashlight. It was a canvas pouch, rolled up and secured with leather straps that had seemed to stand the test of time and decay.

“Oh my gosh, Joel!” You looked up at him with a pleased grin, teeth flashing at him as you did so. Giddy with the discovery. You set it down over your thighs and unfastened the straps, rolling out the canvas to reveal beautifully crafted handles nestled into small, slim pockets. His steps were quiet as he moved closer, shining his own flashlight onto the find. With nimble fingers you shut your own off and tucked it into the internal pocket of your dark green jacket, pulling one of the handles carefully from where it rested to reveal a sheathed chef’s knife.

The sheath was a little worse for wear, the plastic cover faded and brittle, but when you removed it, the blade proved to be in pristine condition if a little dull.

“Joel, these knives are so beautiful.” Your words were practically a purr as you checked the others to find them nearly perfect. The whole set. Each blade crafted beautifully with a wavy design of darker metal inlaid into a lighter one, the blunt side fading from dark to light. “These are classic Japanese crafted, perfectly balanced. A bit dull, but with some care and a good sharpening block they would be as good as new.”

“Oh, so you didn’t just dabble in the kitchen then.”

“Hmm?”

“You were a chef, weren’t you?”

“Oh, um, yes. But that doesn’t mean much these days, so I tend to downplay it.” You stood, the pouch rolled back up and secured.

“You let me go on about jarred tomato sauce and cereal.”

“I meant it when I said those were balanced meals, I swear!”

“Uh-huh, sure you did. Entertainin’ me, is what you were doin’.” He was delighting in the friendly banter, no true hurt or dismay in his words if the upturn of his lips on one side was an indication. The smirk allowed for that endearing dimple to appear in the pocket of his right cheek, much like his brother’s.

“Joel, no offense, but hush. Food is food.” You tried to make it seem like you hadn’t meant any harm, because you hadn’t. Food was food, back then and even more so now. It was a way to survive, important and so scarce a necessity these days. The abundance of it within the settlement still something that amazed you. The ingenuity of people to create and cultivate agriculture as a base function of humanity and community.

“I’d bet my left arm you didn’t used to think like that. Back when we had the choice between organic and fresh to mass produced and cheap.”

“Hey! Junk food was important too! You know how many times I had a family sized bag of chips for dinner?”

“No, sweetheart, how many?”

“At least twice a week.” Flicking your hand with two fingers raised up, you couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that sprung up from your chest. Fighting the wide smile threatening to break out on your face at the faux shock he displayed with a hand to his chest and a roll of his eyes.

“Which ones?” His brown eyes glittered in the shine of his flashlight, following your movement toward your bag left atop the couch.

“I was rather fond of sour cream and cheddar.” You could practically taste the tang of the sour cream on your tongue as you made room in your pack for the pouch of knives.

“I was a salt and vinegar man, myself.”

You just pinned him with a teasing look, one eyebrow raised up in question.

“That’s just gross, Joel.”

“And there she is, the food critic I knew you were.”

“Go to sleep, mister judgement. I’ll take the first watch.” You stuck your tongue out at him, waving him away with your hands as you settled on the couch and leaned back into the dusty cushions. His chuckle was the only response as he retreated to the only room in the house, the bed springs creaking as he settled into an equally dusty mattress.

You were already back in the saddle on Lowry and moving when it happened. Joel was adjusting the saddle on his own horse and hadn’t heard the shuffle of the leaves. The tree line was just a few yards away. And a trio of infected had just breached the end of it.

“Joel! On your six!” You shouted, reaching for your shotgun slung over your back. Joel was reaching for his own laid out atop the saddle when the horse whinnied, kicking her front legs out at the infected. He reached for the reigns, quickly trying to console the amped up horse when he was knocked to the ground. Your shot missed, his horse freaking out too much and you worried for Joel on the ground.

Your own horse began to fidget, but you calmed her with soft whispers and a quick pat to her neck.

Rolling away to avoid being trampled on, one of the Infected left caught sight of him at the movement.

You were too busy leaning heavily to the left to get a good aim at the other two as they began to tear into the throat of his horse, cutting off the distressed cries of the creature. Heavy body thudding to the ground, you fired two headshots before searching for Joel. But he was blocked from your view by the downed creature.

Careening your body over the side of your own horse until you were practically hanging from the side of it with your feet secure in the stirrups, you used gravity to aid you in getting a clear view. Your middle burned with the effort as you tried to get vision of the man fighting against the Infected that had him pinned to the ground. When you did, your mouth went dry. The claws of the Infected had managed to rake down one of his cheeks, blood bright. Breathing in, you aimed and fired.

The shrieking of the figure fell silent, and its body went limp.

Grunting, Joel shoved it off of him and scrambled back away from it with a heaving chest. He looked over his shoulder toward you, his eyes nearly black from the adrenaline, his plush lips parted as he tried to get enough air in his lungs. Eyes frantically looking him over, you could see the split in his lip from the distance.

Slinging the shotgun back over your shoulder, you dismounted and rushed to his side. Your hands reached everywhere they could as you tried to sus out any more injuries. The intention to keep them to yourself short lived and fruitless. Joel was just staring at you, no words coming from him, only the sound of his panting breath as he pushed himself up on his arms.

“Are you okay? You didn’t hurt your back when you fell? Kiana didn’t step on you or kick you, did she?”

The questions flowed from you in quick succession, not giving the man a chance to answer any of them as you twisted to take a kerchief from your back pocket and began to dab at his cheek as lightly as you could. He let out a low hiss as the skin throbbed, but he let you do it anyway.

“I’m okay,” He finally croaked, sitting up completely when a few tears spilled from your lash line. One of his hands cradled your face, thumb brushing them away. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you did good.”

Through your tears, you worked at getting the blood cleared from his cheek, moving to focus on his split lip and the drops of blood that had trailed down his chin. He let you, his hand falling from your own face to your shoulder, anchoring him close. When you managed to wipe away what you could you sighed, blinking the tears from your eyes as best you could.

His eyes were so soft when you looked into them, watching. Your breath stalled for the barest of moments as you wondered if he would wear the same open expression right before a kiss. Heat flooded your face as you realized you had dug your other hand into the soft curls at the back of his head to help keep him steady and his eyes dilated at the sound. Your sore body protested as you leaned in impossibly closer, chest brushing against his.

The long travel had magnified the scent of him, cedar and sweat dizzying this close to him and it made you want to bury yourself in his arms. To burrow into him and just stay there, enjoying in the warmth and safety you felt when around him.

His eyes fluttered closed at the gentle press of your lips to the scratch on his cheek, tension leaking out of his own sore muscles at the feel. Nose brushing against his own, you were suddenly overcome with the urge to press your other hand to his chest and press him back to the ground, to straddle his thighs and show him how much he was beginning to mean to you. But that would be far too forward.

Heartbeat tittering, your eyes roved over his face, gauging his reaction to the uncharacteristic display. His face was so handsome, the trimmed scruff dusting his cheeks a mix of silver and gray complimenting the tan of his weathered skin decorated with sparse freckles, a patch vaguely resembling a heart low near his chin. And you fleetingly pressed your lips to it, unable to resist. The muscle in his jaw twitched at the pressure, but he didn’t move otherwise, eyes still closed shut.

Despite the journey from the day before and an overnight stay in an abandoned building, you still smelled faintly of the woody, floral scent. It was stronger due to the tense situation of a few moments ago, lingering in the sweat you had felt bead up along the back of your neck and the small of your back.

He seemed to breathe it in, his inhale catching in his throat when you couldn’t help the temptation of pressing your lips to where his bottom one was split in a chaste kiss, caught up in mingling of your scents and the effect he was having on you being so close.

“There,” You breathed against him, fingers clenching around the curls in your grip, surprised he hadn’t jerked away from the rather inappropriate move. His eyes remained shut, as you leaned back to look over the entirety of his face. You felt a nervous flutter of warmth low in your middle, mirroring the words he had whispered to you in your kitchen just a few days ago. “All better.”

Your body was alight with the feel of his body behind you. His chest bumping into your back on every jaunt of Lowry moving over the terrain. You hadn’t been able to look directly at him, keeping your eyes downcast in embarrassment as you had helped him up from where he had fallen. Your hands small in his as you had done so, but immediately dropping the contact once he had been back up on his feet.

It had been silent for a long pause, no words coming from either of you as he gathered what he could from the saddle of the downed horse and you adjusted your own belongings to make room. Lowry had been rather worked up, deservedly so at seeing her friend and own patrol partner taken out in such a gruesome way. The beginning of the journey back to Jackson started off on foot, you on one side of her and Joel on the other, guiding her back at her own pace.

But somewhere after the first couple of hours, you had begun to drag your feet. The adrenaline of the morning waning and leaving you utterly exhausted. That’s how you found yourself seated in the front of the saddle on your horse, Joel’s firm body behind you. His height, even while seated, allowed for every other breath to rustle the hair atop your head. The wide brimmed hat you donned while on patrol hanging from the front of the saddle so as to not bump him or obstruct his vision.

But he kept his hands to himself, save for when he gripped your hips when the horse tipped your combine gravity on the errant downslope of the route.

“Get some rest,” Joel’s words were a haze as you twisted to wave a parting at him. Safely back within the walls of the settlement and having completed the patrol write up. The loss of a horse something you were sure wouldn’t be overlooked, even in light of how it happened. You could’ve saved her, but had been too slow to find aim. But the only thing on your mind right now was a warm bath to wash away the day and then the comfort of your bed.

“You too, Joel.” You turned back to face forward, feet carrying you slowly even if the desire to be unconscious was a strong pull to pick up the pace toward your home.

“Hey, Olive?” Hesitant, the sound of your nickname was in his voice.

“Yes?” You pivoted once more, taking in the way he was looking at you. Concern in his dark eyes and softening his features. The feel of his lips sparking through you as you lingered on them. But you pushed it down, knowing it was one-sided and would always be so. He didn’t see you like that, couldn’t see you like that with all the attention he got from around town. So many other people to entertain and you were just another.

“You can always talk to me, you know, about anything. I’ll always listen to what you have to say.”

“Yeah,” The denial of you suggesting the cutting board washed over you, deflating you even more so in the late afternoon. “But I wouldn’t want everyone to think we do talk. Seemed pretty keen on hiding it from your brother the other day.”

“That- that wasn’t why I said it was my idea.” His jaw jumped, the muscle clenching and unclenching, his hands mimicking the motion at his sides. A heavy sigh deflated his own chest. “I was…embarrassed because it was the first one I made. It-it wasn’t very good.”

“Joel, everything you make is well done.” You assured even as you turned from him and walked away.

“I’m so glad you came back okay from that long patrol, Joel. We would’ve missed your amazing hands.”

Joel tried his best to tune the woman out, Marsha liked to ramble to him when he called on her to fix things in her house. She was about his age, an appropriate age. Headed the gardens and yearly plantings, helped out in the mess hall, and tried to help Tommy keep up with the holidays in order to make the town feel a little more comforted. But today, her words felt weird. Like a backhanded comment to something he intended to figure out. Because it felt like it was about you rather than just a well-meaning sentiment.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Joel tried to keep his voice even, tempered. But he could feel tingles of anxiety come to life in his chest.

“Oh, I’m just saying, everyone was rather shocked that you got stuck with Olive for Teton. She hasn’t been on anything other than her two morning routines in, gosh, such a long time n-“ He surged up from where he had been underneath the sink. The steady beading of water from the cracked pipe measuring the tense passage of time as he stood to his full height. The wrench in his hand pressed into his stomach as he placed his hands on his hip and looked directly at the woman who had been hovering over him as he worked. She had been idly peaking potatoes on the counter beside the sink, making sure to stick close to him like she tended to do when he was in her home.

But she had fallen quiet at the direct attention, a flush visible on the tips of her ears and the swell of her cheeks.

“Did you say ‘stuck with Olive’? Because I can assure you, she’s capable enough to not be talked about that way.” His brow furrowed as his lips tugged downward in a frown, unsure where this woman got the gall to sling around talk of you like this. To him, of all people. He wasn’t completely daft, he knew the women around town fawned over him. Both the younger ones like yourself and those closer to his own age and beyond. But he ignored it, because he wasn’t here for that, his heart didn’t soften for just anyone. And the woman in front of him was bad mouthing the one it had without him even realizing.

“I just meant that- since she’s so much younger and doesn’t have as much experience as you-“

“Hold on, lemme stop you right there.” Joel held out a hand, the wrench acting as a barrier between their bodies. “Olive is more than capable of being my partner on patrol. It don’t matter what her experience is compared to my own. And I don’t like the insinuation of her not being anything other than a hardworking person who willingly puts her life on the line for this town.”

“She just- there was an incident a while ago-“

“I don’t care what happened a while ago, she’s good to me now.” Anger flared, tinging his eyes into the deep, dark tone of fresh brewed coffee. His grip around the wrench was pulling the muscles in his hand, causing an ache that was becoming far too familiar a sensation. But he kept his focus on the woman in front of him, the one who had felt like it was okay to talk about you in such a way in his company, to him.

He was always polite, always lending an ear to what the people of the town wanted to say, allowing for easy conversation most of the time, but this was something he wouldn’t allow and the tone of his voice had shifted. It was assertive and left no room for interpretation that he didn’t share the sentiment of the woman in front of him. And then he thought back to the other night before the route in question.

Tommy had been consoling you, telling you to ignore the things people were saying about you, the rumors that had cropped up once your name had been added next to his on the assignment sheet. This woman had apparently been the cause of your tears, the fuel to your already present insecurities flaring and making you close in on yourself. This woman had taken the teasing jokes, sweet laughter, soft smiles, and easy-going conversation typical of time spent with you and stolen it from him. Tainted the air so badly that you had been decidedly not yourself on the last patrol and so wound up that you had snapped at him.

“She’s done nothing to deserve the way you’re speaking about her, and I would like you to apologize.”

“Joel, I- I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would upset you.” Her eyes shifted frantically over his face, realizing that she had offended him with her casual words. “I was saying that-“

“Not to me, to her.” He cut off her words with rough ones of his own. Past the point of caring about being polite and heeding everything the town needed his help with at the moment. All he cared about right now was you, and how you had been singled out as the most recent subject of town gossip. He tried to tamp it and he had gotten fairly good at keeping his frustrations to himself. Ellie being the recipient when she was particularly stubborn and bull headed, but she got that from him too. From traveling with him for as long as it had taken them, their entire journey now allowing for them to explore the softer and kinder parts of themselves within the safety of the settlement.

But right now? Joel felt like he was back outside of them, the need to protect and eradicate any perceived threat strong. Thrumming in him as he felt like what was his was being singled out and targeted.

“But-“

“We clear?”

Marsha squeaked out an affirmative, her hands wringing around each other over her middle. Without a glance toward the open cupboards beneath the sink, Joel gathered his toolbox laid open beside them and his flashlight.

“Need a new pipe, nothing else I can do at the moment. Tommy will be by before nightfall with a replacement.”

He didn’t bid her goodbye as he walked through the front of her house and out the front door. Leaving the shell-shocked woman standing in her kitchen with her heart beating rapidly in her chest at his rather uncharacteristic display of anger.

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dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics and @cafekitsune

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[paradiseismine]

His Favorite - Miles Fairchild x reader

Pairing: Miles Fairchild (The Turning) x f!reader

Warnings: all smut, degradation, sort of free use (?), spanking, imbalanced power dynamics. This is much more intense than the stuff I usually write lol

Summary: our boy Miles is used to always getting exactly what he wants.

It had been a few weeks since you started working at the manor. You were still a minor, nearly 18, but had no family and had to make ends meet somehow. So, when you saw the opportunity to work as a young maid in a manor, granted to live and eat there for free, you took it without any further thoughts.

The teenage boy who lived there, Miles, caught your eye the very first time you saw him. There was something about his petulance, his wit and his dark eyes that really got your panties wet. He took an interest in you, and soon enough, you realized that doing him sexual favors got you in a much better position than not - plus, you also had the hots for him.

Miles was tough on the outside, but whenever Kate or any other person from the manor’s staff tried to get in your way or tease you, Miles would practically JUMP at them. You were sacred to him and everyone knew that. You could get away with half-assing your work, showing up late or refusing to do things. Nobody else in there could do that, so of course, they all hated you.

It was a Tuesday afternoon. The little girl, Flora, was playing in the gardens of the manor with her babysitter, and you were in the kitchen, washing the dishes. Miles was sitting on the kitchen table, toying with a rubber band, and you tried your best to pay him no attention at all. In a clumsy attempt to wash another plate, you ended up dropping it inside the sink, causing it to break.

Miles let out a chuckle.

- It’s hard to conciliate your little whoreish brain with doing your chores, isn’t it? All you can think about is getting your pussy fucked, right?

You chuckled at him, trying your best to clean the mess as fast as you could. The other maids would end up getting blamed for the broken plate, so you wanted to hide the evidence. But the way his voice reverberated in your ears simply wouldn’t let you work in peace. Not a minute after, you dropped another plate into the sink - to no surprise, it also broke in half. Great.

- Why are you so stupid today, huh? - Miles asked, rolling his eyes as he approached you, then grabbing the hair at your nape in a possessive way. - You’re lacking some cum inside your cunt, aren’t you, dumb slut? I bet you’d love to be filled to the brim with some warm cum, wouldn’t you?

You could barely talk back.

- Y-yes sir, I’d love that very much - you nearly whispered, your upper thighs sticking to each other already. Nothing made you hornier than tending to that preppy manor boy.

He made your knees weak and he knew it. That cocky grin in his face gave it all away.

- I knew you would - he bent you over the sink and lifted up your skirt in a swift movement, his fingers lightly lowering your panties down to your knees. - Your ass looks so pale… I think it could use some spanking, couldn’t it? It would look much better with a reddish color to it…

- Yes, sir, please - you pleaded, your cunt visibly slick with arousal.

You could hear Miles lightly chuckle before laying his hand harshly on your ass, spanking it. He would alternate between your butt cheeks, but without fail, all of your ass would be red and even a bit purple after he was done.

- There - he said, his voice lower than before. You could tell how hard he was just by the way he was talking. - Nice and spanked, my little whorelet.

- Thank you sir - you moaned, softly.

- You’re welcome - he replied, his tone still different than before - Now, since you can’t bring yourself to even wash the dishes properly, I think I could use you for my own entertainment.

- W-what do you mean, sir?

- I mean, I think my cock needs some good sucking… Get on your knees, you dumb slut - he ordered.

You quickly obeyed, kneeling in front of him as he sat in one of the kitchen chairs. You lowered his pants and took his cock in your mouth hungrily, lapping up the precum from his tip and deep throating his length as much as you could.

- Yes - he moaned, grabbing a fistful of your hair. - Just like that… Such a slutty little maid, aren’t you? Did you always go around sucking your masters’s dicks like that?

You moaned in response, his cock still deep down your throat. Miles tightened his grip on your hair and forced you to take him even deeper. He was so huge, you couldn’t believe it. Such a lanky pale boy, and hung like a horse. After another 20 minutes of hungrily sucking his dick, your jaw was nearly numb, when Miles suddenly shifted in the chair.

- Get up and spread your legs - Miles ordered, firmly, letting go of your hair. - I want to fill up your cunt with my cum.

- Finally - you moaned, bending over the sink and spreading your legs. - Cum inside my whorelet pussy, sir. Make it yours, put me in my place…

Miles shoved his cock in your dripping wet pussy all at once, immediately releasing hot ropes of his cum in your insides. You could feel the warmth from his seed seeping inside you, and you orgasmed solely from that feeling, your cunt clenching uncontrollably around Miles’ cock.

- Ah - he moaned, still releasing his cum inside you. It was so much cum, it would drip out immediately, you couldn’t possibly hold that much inside you. - Yes, milk my dick just like that, suck all my cum inside that worthless cunt of yours.

- Yes, sir, please give me all of your cum - you moaned, your knees weak.

After he was done, he put his pants back on and left the kitchen as if nothing had happened.

The other maids would come in a few minutes later and see Miles’ cum dripping down your legs. They were jealous, you knew that. They got scolded by him everyday, and so did you, but you were different. You pussy was the only one he’d cum in. You were the only one in the manor staff he’d protect and defend when needed. You were his favorite.

-

Love note from Nina: part 2 here.

[cafecourage]

Little Red Riding Hood where Reader is Little Red but also a werewolf

Love Interest and rest of chain can be assigned however

(Cause I'm always down for a fairytale au)

I did a little twist on this. Idk if this was what you wanted. I had to ask doggo experts for how doggos act around each other. I am leaving this off on a small cliff hanger because I do want to write more of this.

Twilight didn’t trust the new person in the group. Well. It’s more like he didn’t know what to think of her. She came in like a hurricane running after the Shadow like it was her prey. Then when the dust settled and she calmed down the group quickly learned of why. The short of it being that for some reason the Shadow attacked her brother and she took chase. Which then led to her to finally agree to join the chain. Much to the Ranchers chagrin. However, he knows better than to start an unnecessary fight. Twilight could be civil.

Civility could only go so far.

Little Red, as Warrior’s likes to call her, noticed Twilight’s presence and slight unease of her and ran with it. Twilight couldn’t understand just why she was always running circles around him talking about this and that. It confused him to no end when she instantly would stick to him even when he was wolfie. He had to on more then one occasion threaten to bite Little Red’s hands. She never cared or backed away from Wolfie when he showed a bit of aggression. “He is going to bite you.” Wild warned her as he watched Little Red try to play with Wolfie.

She looked up at Wild while holding Wolfie’s face, “what? No the baby is just playing.” That comment only made Twilight growl more.

“Baby? Wolfie isn’t a baby.” Wild was torn between being completely amuse and helping Twilight out as he did know about his slight distrust of Little Red.

“No no no, Champion. This is a wolf pup. He has to be like…” Her attention draws to the wolf as she observes the good boy. “Man… I have to say maybe 10? He is very small even for that age. Wolfie is like an adult dog size but he is definitely a wolf.” She boops the snoot and quickly pulled back as Twilight tries to bite her hand again. This only makes her giggle more.

“I think your wolves might be just bigger than my Hyrules.” Honestly to Wild, Wolfie was the same size as most wolves, but he just shrugs and not questions that further. Twilight couldn’t understand why you were like this, he wonders if it was just an eccentric thing. He has met a lot of weird people in his life and Little Red might be one of them. After being free from your grasp he takes it upon himself to run away for now. Only because you don’t tend to grab his face while being Twilight and thats the most annoying part of being wolfie around you.

It wasn’t until they finally came to her era that he finally understood.

The village Little Red lived in was small, but cozy. It reminded Twilight of his own home. People tended to light up when seeing Little Red. But given the size of the group following them most villagers tended to just say hi and remarks that they needed to talk to her later. “My house is a bit further.” Little red said pointing to a path that ran into the woods. “It’s just me, my brother and Grandma oh and our cat. I’ll make sure to keep her out of your stuff. But we should have room to fit everyone.” She explains as the path slowly clears up to a cottage in the wood with a small garden. There was a small pup running around in the yard playing with said cat. Who was purely annoyed at ready to pap the puppy in the head.

Little Red’s eyes brightened “Link!” She calls out gaining the Pups reaction.

She dashes towards the house as the puppy starts running towards her. They meet halfway and the puppy shifts into a young boy. “You’re back! You’re back!” This Link giggles as he gets lifted in the air by his sister and spun around.

“I am! For now.” Little red nuzzles her brother’s face as she shifts her grips on her brother to put his weight on her hip. “Boy’s this is my brother. Link these are the adventurers I’ve been traveling with.”

She turns to the group with a smile. The chain was utterly confused and silent before Wind speaks up “Did he transform into a wolf?”

[kairiscorner]

Okay okay, hear me out. Miguel trying to figure out your secret identity because you're the only spider person who hasn't shared their backstory and Lyla can't find anything about you besides your spidersona, so he breaks his own rule and sneaks into your dimension in disguise, searches the city for you and is ready to go home with a failed personal mission, till (thanks to his super hearing) he hears you singing in your apartment and sees your open window with all your plants and a stray happily sunning itself while you tend to them all, and he's just mesmerized on the street cause like, woah. 🌷🌷🌷

oH MY GOD–I LOVE THIS !!! bc i recently also watched rocketman, i'm making y/n sing an elton john song favorite of mine 💖

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

hold me closer, tiny dancer. – miguel o'hara x reader

as night fell in the city, cicadas and crickets hummed their songs in the bright, moonlit evening of tonight in the humble boulevard of the dimension you belonged to. you didn't live in the most well-off or best town in the city, but it was your home; your home that nobody else in HQ ever knew was even yours. you were a complete enigma to the rest of the multiverse, and you preferred to stay that way. it didn't bother you one bit that you only had your little rooftop garden to tend to and greet when you get home from a long mission. you made yourself a warm cup of tea and sat down by your little wooden table by your rooftop, your outdoor plants hung up by the macrame hangers you made for them all. you looked off at the yellow and white studded distance beyond your balcony and smiled slightly to yourself, enjoying the silence and solace of being alone, in your own home, in your own space. though little did you know... someone was searching for you, trying to figure out just who you were; it was no adoring fan of yours from this dimension, it was instead a coworker, your colleague back in earth-928: miguel o'hara.

"this is hypo and critical, mig." lyla warned miguel as he lifted up his gray jacket's hoodie up on his head as he scanned his surroundings. "would you kindly shut up and let me do my job?" he snapped at the AI assistant as she raised an eyebrow at him, shrugging. "one, i do all the scanning and difficult processing stuff for you in the nanoseconds, stand back and let me do my job. two, not my fault my servers don't have anything on them. just turn back now, miguel, it isn't worth finding out who they are—these are your principles, by the way." she reminded miguel as he sighed and covered the watch she was being projected from with his hand as he hid behind an apartment building. the surroundings were pretty clear, nobody else roamed these streets at night, except for a few night crawling critters that sung about in the night. though these creatures weren't the only singers of the night, for as miguel was about to head off in the opposite direction to begin searching for the person behind the spider person mask he had been so used to seeing—yearning to see the lovely face hidden underneath it—he had heard the opening notes of a classic melody being played on a piano. the melody sounded as though it were recorded, its sound was being carried out from a couple of speakers that didn't sound modern in the slightest.

"what is that?" miguel asked aloud to nobody in particular. "they're the opening notes to the elton john song, 'tiny dancer'. it's cute as hell." lyla said with a grin as miguel stepped out of the shadow of the big building and followed the sounds. the song reverberating from the speakers was fainter, but a new symphonic sound rang in his ears. a voice? a voice rang out in the depths of the otherwise silent, unbothered evening in this quiet, ordinary boulevard in your quiet, ordinary dimension—for the most part. as the song progressed, miguel had finally pulled himself out of the shadows and seen the lit up home you had. he took in the full view of the balcony of yours that was adorned with macrame hangers, potted plants of all different sizes and colors, and... you, there, looking off into the distance, smiling as that sonorous voice came from you.

"pretty-eyed... pirate smile... you'll marry a music man." you sang along as the song went on, taking a spray bottle from near the railing and humming the rest of the song's lyrics, spraying water on the plants' leaves all carefully and gently murmuring to the plants how big and healthy they've gotten. you smiled and continued singing the song as it got closer and closer to your favorite part of the song. "looking on... she sings the songs... the words she knows, the tune she hums..." you continued as you set the spray bottle down finally and sat down on your chair by the balcony, with miguel peering his head up ever so slightly to catch a better glimpse of you. "i know that voice..." he muttered as he almost accidentally slipped and landed in the light emitting from your home. "but, oh, how it feels so real—lying here, with no one near; only you, and you can hear me. when i say softly... slowly..." you sang in a gentle voice as you got up slowly and put one foot over the other, as if in a ballerina position and raised your arms slightly, not caring who would see... not knowing miguel was watching you perform for yourself in full view. "hold me closer, tiny dancer... count the headlights on the highway..." you sang as you twirled yourself around gracefully, with the skills of a poised ballet dancer. your gentle, elegant movements made miguel pause and open his mouth slightly ajar in amazement. "they're... wow." he whispered to himself as you put your arms down and sighed, re-entering your home and sliding the windows closed, disappearing into your home for the night. miguel had known you were a sophisticated fighter that always carried honor in their hearts and poise in their movements—but he never witnessed you perform, let alone so freely, happily and... alive.

"y'done?" lyla asked miguel, snapping him out of his trance. "a-ah, right, um... okay. we... can go home now." "something tells me you don't wanna just yet." lyla pointed out as miguel darted his eyes back up to your unit and quickly tore his gaze away with a sigh as he put in the coordinates back to HQ, opening a portal and stepping foot in it, casting one last glance back up at your humble little apartment, the apartment where the tiny dancer who has his heart performed for the very first evening when his life felt like it really started now. "...it doesn't matter what i want. i got what i came here for, let's go." he whispered as he moved his gaze away from your home and wordlessly bid your dimension a goodbye, or rather... a see-you soon.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @ophanimgold @fictarian @yuridopted0 @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok